Facing Your Demons (CTA RP)
Jun 2, 2021 1:23:28 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, anthonycaffrey, and 1 more like this
Post by Vodka Fizz on Jun 2, 2021 1:23:28 GMT -5
The gentle, rhythmic snorting of someone that is asleep breaks the pristine silence of what at first appears to be a dark room. There is a gentle rattle of an old film projector that has clearly run out of film but was left running, though it appears that the bulb has burned out to create ambiance. The movie theater is a makeshift endeavor, with uncomfortable-looking chairs set up in rows, and instead of a proper movie screen it appears that makeshift moviegoers have used a a bedsheet. Suddenly, with a cough, the snoring stops, followed by a muttered curse and arms stretching from a heap in one of the chairs. The camera pans to reveal the man in the chair is Fireside Wrestling superstar and vaunted public nuisance, Vodka Fizz. He looks confused and blinks away sleep, trying to make heads or tails of what he's seeing.
VODKA:: Where is everyone? Last thing I remember we were watching Papillion. What a boring film; that's the last time I trust a cowboy to recommend a movie.
Vodka sighs and rubs at his eyes again. He rises from the chair, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket to use as a makeshift flashlight. He looks around the small theater, not really revealing anything out of the ordinary. He turns towards the exit, the light from his phone finally falling on someone hunched in front of the projector.
VODKA:: Hey, are you okay?
There is no response from he slumped man. Vodka creeps closer, reaching out to poke the man, who still doesn't move. Voddy grabs onto his shoulder and shakes the body, which slides free of the projector with a wet sort of sucking sound, immediately bathing the room in light. Vodka winces at the sudden light from the projector, not immediately noticing the state of the lens. He kneels down next to his prone compatriot.
VODKA:: Are you oka....... aaaaaaaaaaa
The eccentric wrestler's voice dies in his throat as he finally notices that the man prone on the floor is Joe Nobody, who has a rather horrific injury to his his face. The wrestler is clearly dead, with blood and brains leaking from the horrific injury. Vodka immediately leaps away from his dead teammate, looking around for someone to ask for help. He has trouble finding his voice at first, until a large hand sets on his shoulder.
NEWCOMER: Chill out, brother. Just take a deep breath. In and out. In and out. You're alright, buddy. Ooooh yeeeeah.
After a moment of hyperventilating, Vodka seems to have regained some of his composure. His eyes dart over to the heaped remains of Joe Nobody, which remains prone and staring up at the ceiling. Vodka shudders, finally turning his attention to the person who helped him calm down.
VODKA:: Hey, that was pretty cool of you to help out. I don't know what... the... FUCK?
The camera finally reveals the good samaritan, who appears to be a severely burnt corpse dressed sort of like the Macho Man Randy Savage, but dressed in ring gear that appears to be made of the scarred and mutilated shin of several other corpses. He either grins at Voddy, or the scarred, taught grimace he shares is some form of rictus.
VODKA:: What the hell are you?!
The corpse man's expression falters slightly.
GHOUL: That's not very nice, yeah. Just cause I'm not the most handsome fella that don't make me a monster, yeah.
Vodka looks disgusted for himself for a second, then clenches his hands, offering a noticably forced smile to the ghoul.
VODKA:: You're right. I'm sorry. Let's start....
GHOUL: The fact that the Mauler Man is gonna gut ya like the rest of your team is what makes Mauler Man a monster. Oooooh yeeeeah!
Vodka stops cold, clearly processing what the Mauler Man has said. He raises one finger to his lips then points at the ghoul. Before Vodka can speak, the s0-called Mauler Man's hand morphs into huge metal claws which strike out at the erstwhile eccentric superstar, and with nary a sound, Vodka Fizz's finger falls to the floor.
VODKA:: WHOA! Jesus Christ, dude, you cut off my finger!
MAULER: Don't worry, Vodka Fizz! The Mauler Man is gonna do much, much worse to ya, Yeah, but the Mauler Man is gonna make this sporting, so I'm gonna give you a head start.
Vodka looks confused again, taking the moment to work through what the clearly murderous monster is saying.
MAULER: Beat feet, Voddy! It ain't no fun if you don't run!
The video suddenly cuts to a somewhat grainy, theater-format video, and music starts to play (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmQjP3K57D8). Vodka finally seems to catch on and sprints for the exit of the theater. The Mauler Man stays put, making no move to follow Vodka, but watching the other man with a great deal of interest. The video suddenly cuts to show one of the cellblocks. Vodka is bailing his way down one of the steel walkways, his heavy footsteps echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the prison. He looks around for somewhere to hids, but all of the cells are, mysteriously, locked, despite the fact that the prison appears to be otherwise empty.
Finally he slams through a door that leads into the recreation yard. He stops to take a breath and gather his thoughts.
VODKA:: Okay this doesn't make sense. Everybody's gone. Joe Nobody is.... yeah. but there's no other bodies so far. And this Mauler Man guy... I know this place is supposed to be haunted, but nobody said anything about an evil Zombie Macho Man. Something isn't adding up.
Vodka takes off his hat and runs his hand through his hair, finally remembering his finger injury. He checks his hand, surprised to find his finger uninjured.
VODKA:: Okay, what the fuck is going on...?
There's suddenly another abrupt change in scene and, instead of the recreation yard Vodka is standing in the middle of a dusty road in the middle of a western town. The basketball hoop is set up in the middle of the intersection as a makeshift gallows and, suddenly, a man is stood on a stool, restrained, with a sack over his head and Shane Locke's hat pinned onto the sack. The Mauler Man is standing next to the makeshift gallows, dressed in what would be a very nice cowboy suit, were it not made of the same patchwork skin that his wrestling gear was made out of.
MAULER MAN: Bout time you showed up, ya no good varmint.
VODKA:: Is that Shane Locke? Man, you don't have to do this, he's got a wife and kids!
MAULER: You're right, Vodka! How does it feel knowing that a promisin' young wrestler is doomed because he's part of your team? Yeah, bet that eats you up inside, doesn't it? This is a team game, and you're the weak link, right Vodka Fizz? You're the joke, you're the goon, you're the eccentric, you're the guy nobody believes in. And that's why your team is gonna flounder and die, Vodka. Because. Of. You.
As if to punctuate that statement, Mauler Man kicks the stool and the man who is presumably Shane Locke drops with a snap, his body going limp. Vodka lets out a cry of anguish and the Mauler Man beckons to him, suddenly back in his horrible wrestling gear. He is in a pose preparing ro grapple with Vodka, but instead Vodka splits, dashing off into the makeshift western town. Vodka slams thorough a door, finding himself in a cell. He droops down on the chair, resting his head in his hands.
VODKA:: Jesus. I can't take this. I'm not ready, this isn't fair. Fuck. FUCK. I don't want this. I DON'T WANT THIS.
Vodka wraps around his heads, starting to hyperventilate again, until a clanging comes at a bar. He looks up to see a guard in an old-fashioned guard uniform.
GUARD: Whatcha doin' in here, Fizz? Grabbing a nap? You're lucky the warden doesn't catch ya. Fuckin' layabout.
Vodka examines himself to find that he's dressed in a similar uniform, right down to an enamel badge with the name 'V. Fizz' emblazoned on it. He scrambles to his feet, swiping a hand at his eyes, and he steps out of the cell to join the guard, who immediately pushes someone dressed like a prisoner into Vodka's hands.
GUARD: Dead man walking! Dead man, walking down the green mile!
Vodka searches the mysterious prisoner for any indication as to who it might be, but he is dragged down the long walk to the electric chair, finally falling into step beside the other guard. Suddenly the other cells are full of people, shouting and catcalling, until they finally reach the execution chamber. Vodka leads the man to sit in the chair, who is all the while protesting muffledly from underneath the mask. Vodka is shoved away as the would-be victim is strapped into the chair, right down to the dampened sponge and the skull cap strapped down over the poor man's head.
VODKA:: I gotta do something. What can I do?
Suddenly the Mauler Man appears again, this time dressed in a horrible double breasted suit. His hat is gone, replaced instead by a sparse combover and horn-rimmed glasses that accentuate his milky, colorless eyes. He strolls over to a comically large lever, resting his hand on the handle.
MAULER: Evan Valentine Jr! Such a shame to see a promisin' young man to death, and yet your fate was sealed! You tied your anchor to a man who led you astray and now you'll pay the price! You may have earned your place by nepotism, but you deserved better than what your teammate led you to! A tag team where you're anchored to a joke, to a loser! To a buffoon! Your father and he had a weird sort of magic, but all Vodka Fizz has done is bring you down, and lead you to where you are today! Your sentence, my boy, is death by electrocution! Ooooooh Yeeeeah!!
Mauler Man starts to flip the big, metal knife switch but stops cold when a telephone rings, and Vodka suddenly notices an old rotary phone, which is the source of the noise. Vodka picks up the receiver.
VODKA:: H-Hello?
The voice from the other end is clearly audible to everyone, and is the Mauler Man putting on the affectation of a female voice.
MAULER MAN: This is the Governor! Stop the execution! Tell the warden the Valentine boy has been pardoned!
Vodka lets out a sigh of relief, but doesn;t say anything. Suddenly he notices the many eyes starting at him, and he swallows.
MAULER: Well boy, who was it? What did she say?
Vodka licks his lips and clears his throat, all the while keeping an eye on his ghoulish tormentor.
VODKA:: Um. It was the, um. It was the Governor. She says Valentine has been pardoned.
Suddenly everyone in the room is cheering. Mauler Man waves Vodka over and shakes his hand, smile-sneering at the wrestler.
MAULER: You did it, Vodka Fizz! You won! You bested me, yeah, and that should feel real good, right? Ohhh yeeeeah!
Vodka is hesitant for a minute, then nods. Before he can speak, Mauler Man continues.
MAULER: Now all ya gotta do is turn off the chair, and we'll let Evan go free. Yeah, sounds real simple, right? Just... flip the switch, Vodka.
Voddy reaches for the switch, grabbing onto the handle. He stares at it for a long moment, then watches the Mauler Warden for any signs the monster is going to try anything, but Mauler just continues to watch him with what is almost a cryptic look on his face. Rather than turn the chair off, Vodka slams down the switch, earning horrified gasps from everyone in the execution theater. Mauler Man smirks at him and Vodka watches with a degree of facination and discust as the man in the chair twists and writhes and spasms and burns as electricity surges through his body.
MAULER: Damn, Vodka Fizz. I knew you were messed up, but I think you and your tag partner have some things to talk about. Oh yeah.
Vodka creeps closer to the body, pulling the covering over his head aside to reveal the scortched and mutiliated remains of his tag team partner, which promptly causes him to drop to his knees, hugging himself and whimpering. Mauler man comes over to place a hand on Vodka's shoulder.
MAULER: See what you did, Vodka Fizz? I offered you a chance to save your partner and you destroyed him anyway. You're dragging him down, and he's not even that good. You earned your spot, and he's only there because his dad is a legend, and that kills you doesn't it? So much that instead of taking the chance to save him, you made the choice to destroy him. Messed up, man.
Vodka suddenly starts awake in the prison cell from before, but all of the people are gone. The music playing is still playing louder and louder, but there is no sign of his paranormal oppugnant. Vodka takes a moment to catch his breath, rising from the bed he had been resting on, and exiting the cell. He creeps through the once again empty halls, looking for any sign of the other prisoners from before, finally coming across a door marked 'Dining Room.' He tries the knob and finds it open, creeping into the dining area.
Instead of the Dining Area, however, Vodka emerges into a brightly colored sound stage, with over-sized set pieces promoting 'Wykkid Stix,' which appears to be a parody of Slim Jim's. A giant Mauler Man reaches down and pick's up Vodka, setting him down on top of one of the boxes. Vodka notices a nearby table with a pile of the meaty snack on it, along with a comically oversized meat grinder out of which the lower half of Jaice Wild's torso is sticking out.
MAULER MAN: Hungry? Rip into a Wykkid Stix! No matter how pathetic you care, you can taste the inevitablity!
VODKA:: ENOUGH! Stop this!
Suddenly, Vodka and Mauler Man are alone, standing in what appears to be an empty room.
MAULER: You figured it out, huh?
VODKA:: I figured out nothing is gonna change if I don't face you.
Suddenly the empty room morphs into a wrestling arena. The crowd is full of faces Vodka recognises as the people he fought and lost to before coming to Fireside, and two in the front with blacked-out faces are particularly noticeable. Vodka is suddenly in his ring gear, as is his opponent.
MAULER MAN: This is how it ends, Vodka Fizz! We're gonna wrestle in front of all the people who never believed in you. If you win, you're free to go. If you lose, then Mauler Man gets a new patch for his skin suit.
Vodka nods.
VODKA:: Bring it on, you ugly fucker.
From somewhere, a referee appears, and a bell rings. Fizz and Mauler Man face off against one another, shouting things back and forth. Mauler Man holds out his hand to Fizz who stares at it for a moment before reaching out to grab the former champion's hand. He yanks Mauler Man forward, attempting an ripcord clothesline that the Mauler ducks. Vodka maintains his grip on Mauler Man's wrist, pulling him back and into position for a Sidewalk Slam. Vodka goes for a quick pin, but Mauler kicks out before the referee can count 1
Vodka gets back up to his feet and Mauler Man rolls on his side, trying to regain his composure. Vodka doesn't press the attack right away, taunting instead to earn a pop from the crowd and then going to pull Mauler Man for his feet. Mauler Man counters with a jawbreaker followed by a rope-assisted knee lariat. Mauler Man is quick to push the advantage, hauling Vodka up to his feet and whipping him into the ropes, following up with a quick suplex. Mauler Man goes for a pin of his own, but Vodka kicks out before the ref can even get into position.
Mauler Man is first up to his feet and leans down to pick up Vodka, who rolls the ghoul up.
Mauler Man scrambles to his feet and makes some distance between himself and Vodka, who gets back to his feet as well. Vodka lunges at Mauler Man, who catches him in a headlock position. Mauler Man attempts to use the headlock to gain an advantage, but before he can exert any real force. Vodka steps into the move and turns it into a modified Olympic Slam.
Vodka locks his harms around one of Mauler's arms and one leg, linking his hands together and bridging for a pin, but Mauler kicks out at a bare 1 count.
Vodka looks like he's getting into it, turning around just in time to catch a punch to the throat, followed by the Snake Eyes, dropping him throat first on the top rope. Mauler Man follows up with an Atmoic Drop! Mauler Man covers!
1! 2! 2.9 KICKOUT!!
Mauler looks at Vodka, who can barely move on the mat, then climbs the turnbuckle. He points out into the jeering crowd then leaps off for the flying Elbow Drop, but out of nowhere Vodka leaps to his feet and, as if the murderous ghoul is falling in slow motion, catches him in a crossface chickenwing. He cinches it in, and the Mauler Man has no choice but to tap out!
the referee calls for the bell, and Mauler Man stares at Voddy for a moment before taking his hand and raising it in victory. The crowd cheers for Vodka, chanting his name. Things start to become more and more ethereal.
MAULER MAN (voice fading away): Good Job, Vodka Fizz. Now show 'em what you can do at Call to Arms! OOOOHHHHHH YEEEEAH!!!!
************
VOICE: Vodka! Vodka, are you alright? Vodka!
Vodka wakes up again, this time from laying in a heap on the floor in what is clearly a kitchen. Popcorn and xanax is scattered everywhere, and Shane Locke, Jaice Wilds, Evan Valentine Jr, and Joe Nobody are standing over Vodka.
VODKA:: What happened?
Evan helps Vodka up to his feet, and the eccentric brushes various detrius off his clothes.
EVAN: You said something about making popcorn and wandered off. We came to look for you cause you'd been gone for a while. It looks like you found a sour gas line and you passed out.
Vodka looks thoughtful for a moment.
VODKA:: Sounds like the sort of thing I'd do. I gotta tell you, though, I had the weirdest dream.
He points at Joe.
VODKA:: You were there.
He points at Shane.
VODKA:: You were there.
He points at Jaice.
VODKA:: You were there.
He points at Evan.
VODKA:: You were.... Man I gotta unpack some stuff. Jeez.
Evan looks confused, but shrugs it off. Shane looks at his watch.
SHANE: Come on, guys! If we hurry back, we can still catch the end of Papillion!
Vodka lets out a grown, but follows his team mates back to the theater. The camera pans to a photograph of the Macho Man Randy savage, which winks at the camera, before the video cuts.
VODKA:: Where is everyone? Last thing I remember we were watching Papillion. What a boring film; that's the last time I trust a cowboy to recommend a movie.
Vodka sighs and rubs at his eyes again. He rises from the chair, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket to use as a makeshift flashlight. He looks around the small theater, not really revealing anything out of the ordinary. He turns towards the exit, the light from his phone finally falling on someone hunched in front of the projector.
VODKA:: Hey, are you okay?
There is no response from he slumped man. Vodka creeps closer, reaching out to poke the man, who still doesn't move. Voddy grabs onto his shoulder and shakes the body, which slides free of the projector with a wet sort of sucking sound, immediately bathing the room in light. Vodka winces at the sudden light from the projector, not immediately noticing the state of the lens. He kneels down next to his prone compatriot.
VODKA:: Are you oka....... aaaaaaaaaaa
The eccentric wrestler's voice dies in his throat as he finally notices that the man prone on the floor is Joe Nobody, who has a rather horrific injury to his his face. The wrestler is clearly dead, with blood and brains leaking from the horrific injury. Vodka immediately leaps away from his dead teammate, looking around for someone to ask for help. He has trouble finding his voice at first, until a large hand sets on his shoulder.
NEWCOMER: Chill out, brother. Just take a deep breath. In and out. In and out. You're alright, buddy. Ooooh yeeeeah.
After a moment of hyperventilating, Vodka seems to have regained some of his composure. His eyes dart over to the heaped remains of Joe Nobody, which remains prone and staring up at the ceiling. Vodka shudders, finally turning his attention to the person who helped him calm down.
VODKA:: Hey, that was pretty cool of you to help out. I don't know what... the... FUCK?
The camera finally reveals the good samaritan, who appears to be a severely burnt corpse dressed sort of like the Macho Man Randy Savage, but dressed in ring gear that appears to be made of the scarred and mutilated shin of several other corpses. He either grins at Voddy, or the scarred, taught grimace he shares is some form of rictus.
VODKA:: What the hell are you?!
The corpse man's expression falters slightly.
GHOUL: That's not very nice, yeah. Just cause I'm not the most handsome fella that don't make me a monster, yeah.
Vodka looks disgusted for himself for a second, then clenches his hands, offering a noticably forced smile to the ghoul.
VODKA:: You're right. I'm sorry. Let's start....
GHOUL: The fact that the Mauler Man is gonna gut ya like the rest of your team is what makes Mauler Man a monster. Oooooh yeeeeah!
Vodka stops cold, clearly processing what the Mauler Man has said. He raises one finger to his lips then points at the ghoul. Before Vodka can speak, the s0-called Mauler Man's hand morphs into huge metal claws which strike out at the erstwhile eccentric superstar, and with nary a sound, Vodka Fizz's finger falls to the floor.
VODKA:: WHOA! Jesus Christ, dude, you cut off my finger!
MAULER: Don't worry, Vodka Fizz! The Mauler Man is gonna do much, much worse to ya, Yeah, but the Mauler Man is gonna make this sporting, so I'm gonna give you a head start.
Vodka looks confused again, taking the moment to work through what the clearly murderous monster is saying.
MAULER: Beat feet, Voddy! It ain't no fun if you don't run!
The video suddenly cuts to a somewhat grainy, theater-format video, and music starts to play (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmQjP3K57D8). Vodka finally seems to catch on and sprints for the exit of the theater. The Mauler Man stays put, making no move to follow Vodka, but watching the other man with a great deal of interest. The video suddenly cuts to show one of the cellblocks. Vodka is bailing his way down one of the steel walkways, his heavy footsteps echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the prison. He looks around for somewhere to hids, but all of the cells are, mysteriously, locked, despite the fact that the prison appears to be otherwise empty.
Finally he slams through a door that leads into the recreation yard. He stops to take a breath and gather his thoughts.
VODKA:: Okay this doesn't make sense. Everybody's gone. Joe Nobody is.... yeah. but there's no other bodies so far. And this Mauler Man guy... I know this place is supposed to be haunted, but nobody said anything about an evil Zombie Macho Man. Something isn't adding up.
Vodka takes off his hat and runs his hand through his hair, finally remembering his finger injury. He checks his hand, surprised to find his finger uninjured.
VODKA:: Okay, what the fuck is going on...?
There's suddenly another abrupt change in scene and, instead of the recreation yard Vodka is standing in the middle of a dusty road in the middle of a western town. The basketball hoop is set up in the middle of the intersection as a makeshift gallows and, suddenly, a man is stood on a stool, restrained, with a sack over his head and Shane Locke's hat pinned onto the sack. The Mauler Man is standing next to the makeshift gallows, dressed in what would be a very nice cowboy suit, were it not made of the same patchwork skin that his wrestling gear was made out of.
MAULER MAN: Bout time you showed up, ya no good varmint.
VODKA:: Is that Shane Locke? Man, you don't have to do this, he's got a wife and kids!
MAULER: You're right, Vodka! How does it feel knowing that a promisin' young wrestler is doomed because he's part of your team? Yeah, bet that eats you up inside, doesn't it? This is a team game, and you're the weak link, right Vodka Fizz? You're the joke, you're the goon, you're the eccentric, you're the guy nobody believes in. And that's why your team is gonna flounder and die, Vodka. Because. Of. You.
As if to punctuate that statement, Mauler Man kicks the stool and the man who is presumably Shane Locke drops with a snap, his body going limp. Vodka lets out a cry of anguish and the Mauler Man beckons to him, suddenly back in his horrible wrestling gear. He is in a pose preparing ro grapple with Vodka, but instead Vodka splits, dashing off into the makeshift western town. Vodka slams thorough a door, finding himself in a cell. He droops down on the chair, resting his head in his hands.
VODKA:: Jesus. I can't take this. I'm not ready, this isn't fair. Fuck. FUCK. I don't want this. I DON'T WANT THIS.
Vodka wraps around his heads, starting to hyperventilate again, until a clanging comes at a bar. He looks up to see a guard in an old-fashioned guard uniform.
GUARD: Whatcha doin' in here, Fizz? Grabbing a nap? You're lucky the warden doesn't catch ya. Fuckin' layabout.
Vodka examines himself to find that he's dressed in a similar uniform, right down to an enamel badge with the name 'V. Fizz' emblazoned on it. He scrambles to his feet, swiping a hand at his eyes, and he steps out of the cell to join the guard, who immediately pushes someone dressed like a prisoner into Vodka's hands.
GUARD: Dead man walking! Dead man, walking down the green mile!
Vodka searches the mysterious prisoner for any indication as to who it might be, but he is dragged down the long walk to the electric chair, finally falling into step beside the other guard. Suddenly the other cells are full of people, shouting and catcalling, until they finally reach the execution chamber. Vodka leads the man to sit in the chair, who is all the while protesting muffledly from underneath the mask. Vodka is shoved away as the would-be victim is strapped into the chair, right down to the dampened sponge and the skull cap strapped down over the poor man's head.
VODKA:: I gotta do something. What can I do?
Suddenly the Mauler Man appears again, this time dressed in a horrible double breasted suit. His hat is gone, replaced instead by a sparse combover and horn-rimmed glasses that accentuate his milky, colorless eyes. He strolls over to a comically large lever, resting his hand on the handle.
MAULER: Evan Valentine Jr! Such a shame to see a promisin' young man to death, and yet your fate was sealed! You tied your anchor to a man who led you astray and now you'll pay the price! You may have earned your place by nepotism, but you deserved better than what your teammate led you to! A tag team where you're anchored to a joke, to a loser! To a buffoon! Your father and he had a weird sort of magic, but all Vodka Fizz has done is bring you down, and lead you to where you are today! Your sentence, my boy, is death by electrocution! Ooooooh Yeeeeah!!
Mauler Man starts to flip the big, metal knife switch but stops cold when a telephone rings, and Vodka suddenly notices an old rotary phone, which is the source of the noise. Vodka picks up the receiver.
VODKA:: H-Hello?
The voice from the other end is clearly audible to everyone, and is the Mauler Man putting on the affectation of a female voice.
MAULER MAN: This is the Governor! Stop the execution! Tell the warden the Valentine boy has been pardoned!
Vodka lets out a sigh of relief, but doesn;t say anything. Suddenly he notices the many eyes starting at him, and he swallows.
MAULER: Well boy, who was it? What did she say?
Vodka licks his lips and clears his throat, all the while keeping an eye on his ghoulish tormentor.
VODKA:: Um. It was the, um. It was the Governor. She says Valentine has been pardoned.
Suddenly everyone in the room is cheering. Mauler Man waves Vodka over and shakes his hand, smile-sneering at the wrestler.
MAULER: You did it, Vodka Fizz! You won! You bested me, yeah, and that should feel real good, right? Ohhh yeeeeah!
Vodka is hesitant for a minute, then nods. Before he can speak, Mauler Man continues.
MAULER: Now all ya gotta do is turn off the chair, and we'll let Evan go free. Yeah, sounds real simple, right? Just... flip the switch, Vodka.
Voddy reaches for the switch, grabbing onto the handle. He stares at it for a long moment, then watches the Mauler Warden for any signs the monster is going to try anything, but Mauler just continues to watch him with what is almost a cryptic look on his face. Rather than turn the chair off, Vodka slams down the switch, earning horrified gasps from everyone in the execution theater. Mauler Man smirks at him and Vodka watches with a degree of facination and discust as the man in the chair twists and writhes and spasms and burns as electricity surges through his body.
MAULER: Damn, Vodka Fizz. I knew you were messed up, but I think you and your tag partner have some things to talk about. Oh yeah.
Vodka creeps closer to the body, pulling the covering over his head aside to reveal the scortched and mutiliated remains of his tag team partner, which promptly causes him to drop to his knees, hugging himself and whimpering. Mauler man comes over to place a hand on Vodka's shoulder.
MAULER: See what you did, Vodka Fizz? I offered you a chance to save your partner and you destroyed him anyway. You're dragging him down, and he's not even that good. You earned your spot, and he's only there because his dad is a legend, and that kills you doesn't it? So much that instead of taking the chance to save him, you made the choice to destroy him. Messed up, man.
Vodka suddenly starts awake in the prison cell from before, but all of the people are gone. The music playing is still playing louder and louder, but there is no sign of his paranormal oppugnant. Vodka takes a moment to catch his breath, rising from the bed he had been resting on, and exiting the cell. He creeps through the once again empty halls, looking for any sign of the other prisoners from before, finally coming across a door marked 'Dining Room.' He tries the knob and finds it open, creeping into the dining area.
Instead of the Dining Area, however, Vodka emerges into a brightly colored sound stage, with over-sized set pieces promoting 'Wykkid Stix,' which appears to be a parody of Slim Jim's. A giant Mauler Man reaches down and pick's up Vodka, setting him down on top of one of the boxes. Vodka notices a nearby table with a pile of the meaty snack on it, along with a comically oversized meat grinder out of which the lower half of Jaice Wild's torso is sticking out.
MAULER MAN: Hungry? Rip into a Wykkid Stix! No matter how pathetic you care, you can taste the inevitablity!
VODKA:: ENOUGH! Stop this!
Suddenly, Vodka and Mauler Man are alone, standing in what appears to be an empty room.
MAULER: You figured it out, huh?
VODKA:: I figured out nothing is gonna change if I don't face you.
Suddenly the empty room morphs into a wrestling arena. The crowd is full of faces Vodka recognises as the people he fought and lost to before coming to Fireside, and two in the front with blacked-out faces are particularly noticeable. Vodka is suddenly in his ring gear, as is his opponent.
MAULER MAN: This is how it ends, Vodka Fizz! We're gonna wrestle in front of all the people who never believed in you. If you win, you're free to go. If you lose, then Mauler Man gets a new patch for his skin suit.
Vodka nods.
VODKA:: Bring it on, you ugly fucker.
From somewhere, a referee appears, and a bell rings. Fizz and Mauler Man face off against one another, shouting things back and forth. Mauler Man holds out his hand to Fizz who stares at it for a moment before reaching out to grab the former champion's hand. He yanks Mauler Man forward, attempting an ripcord clothesline that the Mauler ducks. Vodka maintains his grip on Mauler Man's wrist, pulling him back and into position for a Sidewalk Slam. Vodka goes for a quick pin, but Mauler kicks out before the referee can count 1
Vodka gets back up to his feet and Mauler Man rolls on his side, trying to regain his composure. Vodka doesn't press the attack right away, taunting instead to earn a pop from the crowd and then going to pull Mauler Man for his feet. Mauler Man counters with a jawbreaker followed by a rope-assisted knee lariat. Mauler Man is quick to push the advantage, hauling Vodka up to his feet and whipping him into the ropes, following up with a quick suplex. Mauler Man goes for a pin of his own, but Vodka kicks out before the ref can even get into position.
Mauler Man is first up to his feet and leans down to pick up Vodka, who rolls the ghoul up.
Mauler Man scrambles to his feet and makes some distance between himself and Vodka, who gets back to his feet as well. Vodka lunges at Mauler Man, who catches him in a headlock position. Mauler Man attempts to use the headlock to gain an advantage, but before he can exert any real force. Vodka steps into the move and turns it into a modified Olympic Slam.
Vodka locks his harms around one of Mauler's arms and one leg, linking his hands together and bridging for a pin, but Mauler kicks out at a bare 1 count.
Vodka looks like he's getting into it, turning around just in time to catch a punch to the throat, followed by the Snake Eyes, dropping him throat first on the top rope. Mauler Man follows up with an Atmoic Drop! Mauler Man covers!
1! 2! 2.9 KICKOUT!!
Mauler looks at Vodka, who can barely move on the mat, then climbs the turnbuckle. He points out into the jeering crowd then leaps off for the flying Elbow Drop, but out of nowhere Vodka leaps to his feet and, as if the murderous ghoul is falling in slow motion, catches him in a crossface chickenwing. He cinches it in, and the Mauler Man has no choice but to tap out!
the referee calls for the bell, and Mauler Man stares at Voddy for a moment before taking his hand and raising it in victory. The crowd cheers for Vodka, chanting his name. Things start to become more and more ethereal.
MAULER MAN (voice fading away): Good Job, Vodka Fizz. Now show 'em what you can do at Call to Arms! OOOOHHHHHH YEEEEAH!!!!
************
VOICE: Vodka! Vodka, are you alright? Vodka!
Vodka wakes up again, this time from laying in a heap on the floor in what is clearly a kitchen. Popcorn and xanax is scattered everywhere, and Shane Locke, Jaice Wilds, Evan Valentine Jr, and Joe Nobody are standing over Vodka.
VODKA:: What happened?
Evan helps Vodka up to his feet, and the eccentric brushes various detrius off his clothes.
EVAN: You said something about making popcorn and wandered off. We came to look for you cause you'd been gone for a while. It looks like you found a sour gas line and you passed out.
Vodka looks thoughtful for a moment.
VODKA:: Sounds like the sort of thing I'd do. I gotta tell you, though, I had the weirdest dream.
He points at Joe.
VODKA:: You were there.
He points at Shane.
VODKA:: You were there.
He points at Jaice.
VODKA:: You were there.
He points at Evan.
VODKA:: You were.... Man I gotta unpack some stuff. Jeez.
Evan looks confused, but shrugs it off. Shane looks at his watch.
SHANE: Come on, guys! If we hurry back, we can still catch the end of Papillion!
Vodka lets out a grown, but follows his team mates back to the theater. The camera pans to a photograph of the Macho Man Randy savage, which winks at the camera, before the video cuts.