I Wrote This Promo On Paper Because I Had No Internet.

[Jimbo]

We open on the closing moments of The End vs. Adam Sanders and Chris Sanderson.

Sanderson charges in to try and disrupt things, but Fargo yanks the ropes down to launch him out of the ring. Fargo then lifts Sanders as Mehrunes goes up top, and before Sanderson can do anything, The End has sandwiched Sanders with a Backstabber Shooting Star Press combo finisher! Fargo rolls out to hold Sanderson down so Mehrunes can get a definitive three count!

We open on The End, Scott Fargo and Mehrunes Smith, marching down a corridor in the Lakefront Arena. Fargo has a towel draped around his neck, and Mehrunes is to his right, holding his ribs with one hand and his mask in the other, wincing in pain as the camera moves in closer. Kelly Ross moves into frame.

Scott Fargo, Mehrunes Smith, congratulations on a big win tonight over the team of Chirs Sanderson and Adam Sanders. This victory moves you both into the finals of the NLW Tag Team Tournament, where you will face the team of Waylon Kirk and Beau Traywick, The New South. What are your thoughts now?

Fargo looks to Mehrunes, who leans back against the wall and nods to Fargo. Fargo takes the towel and wipes the sweat from his face and tosses it over his shoulder.

If you had said, at the beginning of this tournament, that THIS is what the finals would look like, you’d be called crazy. We beat the piss out of Dunne and that idiotic manchild so bad they needed some time off, and tonight? We smacked the dog shit out of Sanders and Son.

Fargo pauses and shakes his head and mutters under his breath.

Stupid fuckin' name…

He looks at Mehrunes,

shrugs

Shakes his head as he looks back at Kelly.

This tournament was made for two teams in my mind, and you can’t tell me any different.

He holds up two fingers.

The Goons and The New South. BB Gunn and the management, in theory could have just made a match between them both to crown the first champions, and I don’t think anyone would have batted an eye. People would have said.

Fargo tilts his head and shrugs.

“Oh, well, that makes sense. They are THE NLW tag teams. It only makes sense that one of those teams will be the first champions”. But, that’s not how this works.

He looks at the camera and shakes his head, staring into the camera.

Not.

At.

All.

The Goons? They failed. Ricardo, it seems, is too busy chasing singles gold to even care. Which makes me wonder how David feels about all that. As for the New South? Congratulations. You, unlike them, made it to The End. And I mean…

Fargo pauses and steps forward, with a smirk across his face.

The End.

Fargo looks back at Kelly Ross.

Got what you wanted? Take it easy.

Fargo looks back to Mehrunes and both men begin walking off before Ross can respond, or ask another question. The scene fades to black.

---

Sanders and Sanderson put up a better fight than even I thought they would.

Weeks later, opening from the black screen to Mehrunes Smith, he is sitting on a black leather chair, and behind him, Scott Fargo stands with his arm crossed, his usual stoic self.

But, at the end of the day, they were never going to beat us. They weren't even a real tag team.

But it was enough of a fight to put The Goons outta the block, but then again, they're not much of a tag team either these days anyway.

In saying that, it's like Fargo said after we beat Sanders and Sanderson, no one would have expected the finals would look like this. In one corner, you have the first “official” NLW Tag Team, and whatever weight that brings, and in the other corner you have The End. You have us.

Mehrunes with an usually arrogant tone, laughs and shakes his head.

Now no one expected it, but we’ve been saying it all along.

Smith leans forward and puts his palms on the table in front of him and pushes himself up to his feet. Staring in the camera as Fargo flanks his right side.

In a perfect storybook happy ending, this tournament would have ended with The Goons and The New South. The Goons let not only us down by failing to make it out of the first round, they let the fans down, they let NLW down, and I even suspect they may have let The New South down. You can’t tell me that you wouldn't have wanted that. To finally cement yourselves as the face of the NLW Tag Team ranks over the team that the people ARE the face of NLW Tag Team wrestling?

I'm sure you would have.

But, don't worry, I'm sure after Chant beats Ricardo, they'll try to worm their way in to get a shot regardless of whoever wins at Homecoming. But they got to understand something…

Fargo smirks as he stands over Mehrunes’ shoulder.

Trash will wait at the back of the line.

Mehrunes chuckles to himself as Fargo begins circling around in front of the table.

Y'see, there is a hell of a lot of things going on in the NLW, and truth be told, Mehrunes and myself know very little outside of this tournament. We, purposefully, have isolated ourselves and focused completely on it. We did a little tape studyin on The New South. We know that the two of you beat that little El Rey weasel and his punk ass partner, and we also know that the only reason you pair made it to the finals anyway was by the intervention of The Goons.

Had it not been for David taking out Riley, and little Richard keeping Chant occupied, then I’d say this tournament final would look a little bit different.

Fargo scoffs.

Coz all of ya have talked a big game, no doubt. The Goons were the loudest voice, but The New South? The New South was the first voice. And look at you all now. Ricardo is so preoccupied with staying on Leon Chant like a bad smell that he cost The Goons their chance at being the first ever NLW Tag Team Champions. And you pair? You pair only got here because of them. And boys? We’re mighty glad that ya did.

Mehrunes nods along.

See, when Sanders and Sanderson beat The Goons, I was upset, WE were upset. Because we both wanted to put them in their place so badly. We wanted to crush their dream. But, I believe they already crushed their own dream themselves. That's just what happens when one member of a team has their eye off the prize. But now? Now, Fargo and myself still have that opportunity. It stands to reason that The New South also want to be the first ever NLW Tag Team Champions. Both of you have a chip on your shoulders, both of you would want this more than anything else. And that is also precisely why YOU are here and why The Goons are not.

We weren’t meant to crush David and Ricardo Goons' dream. We were meant to crush yours. And at Homecoming II, November Twenty-Seventh?

Mehrunes leans back in the chair.

We will.

Fargo smirks and claps his hand on Mehrunes shoulder.

That’s right! And crush your dreams we will. Sanders and Son may have put up a tougher fight than we expected, but we still smacked the dog shit out of them both. Tilted Cartridges were a walk in the park. But neither of those victories were handed to us by a pair of jaded hoodrats. Don't get it twisted, we know you both are a threat, that you're dangerous. It's safe to say that The New South is a major step up for us. Credit where credit is due, you aren't a little pushover coached by talentless "veteran", and you sure as hell are a REAL Tag Team. You're our biggest opponents yet, and this is our biggest match yet.

It's only fitting that our biggest match is for the biggest prize.

You said on the last the NLW TV that you were ready for war. Well, as far as I'm concerned, ya said the magic word, son.

Fargo smiles again, the possibilities running through his head.

War is violent. War is hell. And I am a violent man. Just run down my history in the ring and you'll see a list of men and women that are out of the business coz Scott Fargo put em outta the business. Wrestling a man like me is a career changing thing. So, when you say you're ready for war, I hope you're serious.

Fargo steps back, letting Mehrunes take over as he cools down.

Ascendancy was a great learning experience for us. We brawled it out, as you do when signing a contract. You stood tall. You put Fargo through a table. As the medics pulled splinters out of his back, we understood it for what it was. You’re good. Real good. Great even. But that’s your limit.

Are you ready to bleed?

Take a moment and prepare for it. Say your prayers while you still can and take a good look at those belts, because when we leave Homecoming they’re coming home with us.

And they will be staying with us for a very long time.

Mehrunes unzips the mask and pulls it off.

The New South, you were the first. The first “official” NLW tag team. The first team to reach the finals. The first to arrive.

To The End.

Fargo walks out of the frame, and Mehrunes places the mask on the table.

The first to arrive, the last to fall.

He stands as the camera holds on the face of the mask.

The End remains the same.

Mehrunes and Fargo walk away, footsteps on the concrete slowly trail off as we fade into an image.