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| Online Countdown To Rampage [03.10.12] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 11 2012, 10:50 PM (466 Views) | |
| KliqerT | Mar 11 2012, 10:50 PM Post #1 |
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Doughy
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[The screen is black.] "A night of mixed emotions." [We cut backstage after the wild night. Most if not all of the locker room has already left the arena. The hardest working men in the UWF, the ring crew have already started to clean up and take the ring down. Sitting in the same chair his daughter did earlier in the night is UWF superstar, Brett Young.] "Tonight ... was a night that was so close to becoming the biggest night of my wrestling career." [The Fantasy looks down for a slight moment then back up.] "Tonight, almost was the first night in my career that my daughter was going to watch me wrestle ... live." [The Voice of 16 year veteran is rough ... you can feel the emotion and how much tonight meant to him.] "It didn't matter what the outcome of the match was. The second I saw her in the arena I had already won. Until ..." [The emotion turns to anger ... and pure hatred.] "Pablo, what has gone on between you and I ... That happens in this business. This business is built around ego's and opportunities. I may have not liked the way you stabbed me in the back and tarnished my family name .... but, I understood why." [Young glares into the camera not even blinking.] "Tonight wasn't about ego's ... Tonight wasn't about opportunity ... Tonight you wanted to break me. You wanted to protect yourself by getting in my head and taking the last thing you could take from me. A moment I have always dreamed about with my daughter." [Slowly shakes his head.] "While watching her walk away ... it was a dagger in my heart ... The single hardest thing I have ever had to do in this business." [Brett pauses.] "You didn't count one thing. It did the opposite effect.} [Brett lets that sink in for a moment.] "I sat in the back trying to focus on my match ... I kept playing Megan storming away not staying to watch the match. I kept playing the words said to her. That hurt changed ... It began to fuel me ... It began to drive me ..." [A sinister smile.] "I knew I had to win the match. I knew all it took was a victory here tonight and there was no where for you to run. No more games. No more hiding from me. No more being the chicken <bleep> that you are!" [nods.] "Pablo, you miscalculated greatly. I have nothing left to lose. Do you know what happens when you step in the ring with a desperate man?" [Big smile.] "I am going to take this fist ... and I am going to drive it into your skull ..." THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! [Brett slams his right fist into the palm of his left hand.] "The referee isn't going to be able to stop me until pieces of your skull is dented in. I am going to take everything important from you. Starting with that UWF TV Championship. And when you wake up? You will gaze into the eyes of the love of your life ... except there will be sorrow in her eyes ... She won't recognize the man she is looking at." [Nobody has ever seen Brett like this.] "For the rest of her life ... She will gaze upon the damage these fists have done. Memories of the "good" times. The choices in life you two made. And the worst decision of your life. Messing with Brett Young." [Fade into a modest graphics sequence set to "Days Are Forgotten" by Kasabian.] O-N-L-I-N-E ____ C-O-U-N-T-D-O-W-N T-O / __ \____ ____ ___ ____ ____ ____ ___ / /_/ / __ `/ __ `__ \/ __ \/ __ `/ __ `/ _ \ / _, _/ /_/ / / / / / / /_/ / /_/ / /_/ / __/ /_/ |_|\__,_/_/ /_/ /_/ .___/\__,_/\__, /\___/ /_/ /____/ 03.10.12 [And we dissolve through the meager logo to a shot from one of the executive suites here in the MGM Grand Garden Arena. To the back of the shot is the interior of the arena, barely visible as the couch, chairs and bar area dominate the shot. Moe Owens is seated at the bar on a stool in front, and young intern Jesse DeCarlo stands beside him.] MO: Good evening wrestling fans, welcome to another edition of the UWF Online Countdown to Saturday Nigh Rampage! I'm Moe Owens, and Jesse DeCarlo is here once more to help set the table for tonight's impending broadcast of SNR. JD: Ah, Las Vegas! So much history here. Black Diamond wins the world championship off of Brett Greene in 1997, Dan Kauffman and Caliban have an absolute war in 2000... Tom Landis and Tara Marshall even got married here in Vegas! What a city. MO: You know, most people people would just talk about the gambling and the nightlife. JD: Still living the dream, Moe! MO: Oh boy. Well you can add another big event to the UWF's history in sin city tonight, in just over two hours our main event is going to rock the building. It's the New Alliance against the members of RIOT in a special six man tag team match! JD: Yeah and can you blame RIOT for wanting a piece of the three-headed monster? Edwin Lopez was sent to the hospital because of them. MO: And I'm not entirely sure it's a smart idea to immediately step into the ring so soon after the injuries he suffered. Johnny Axis and Orin LeBlanc are healthy, but you can't say the same about Edwin. We understand he was diagnosed with a concussion thanks to Derek Martin's actions, thankfully the talk of a more serious neck injury was put to rest this week though. But knowing how vicious their opponents can be, I can't imagine why Edwin would want to push it so soon. JD: It's pride, Moe. And not one of the greatest supergroups in wrestling history either. RIOT wants revenge, in the worst way. I think the real surprise is they're gonna wait until the end of the show to get it. MO: You mention surprises, as usual last week we saw a bunch of them. But one of the bigger ones was the appearance of Jerry Saxon, who as we learned represents a wrestler by the name of Tiger Soul. Tiger Soul will be in action tonight on Rampage, but while the mysterious Japanese star hasn't had much to say the same can't be said for his mouthpiece- er, manager. [We open inside a shady looking small office. A sigh hangs above a desk: LOANS FOR BLOOD! Sitting at a desk is wrestling extraordinare manager, Jerry Saxon. The man who has brought the wrestling enigma from Japan to the UWF, Tiger Soul. He hangs up the phone and then leans back in his leather office chair turning towards the camera.] JS: Welcome to my humble abode! [The Sax opens his arms to say welcome.] JS: This is where the Sax makes a living ... that's before I found my golden ticket. [A big sleazy grin forms across The Sax's face.] JS: My man ... Tiger Soul is UWF bound and ready to turn heads and make fans LEAP out of their seat. Never before have you seen anything like this guy. The things he does ... It's like he has Tiger blood inside his veins. [Deep breathe.] JS: There isn't anyone quicker ... The moves he brings haven't even been NAMED yet! The word phenom is an understatement ... To be blunt friends - You just haven't seen anything like this before. [Pure excitement from The Sax!] JS: Like a Phoenix born again to rise from the ashes ... [Take that PVW!] JS: He is going to take the wrestling world by storm right here on the biggest stage of them all! The UWF is about to be DEVOURED, Friends ... Devoured by the soul of a tiger ... And put on a show like NEVER before while doing it. Yes friends ... If you want to see the greatest spectacle on earth ... A performance like you have _NEVER_ seen before ... Then, you have to make things right with Tiger first before anything else. [A grin like no other!] JS: You have to make things right with the Tiger Soul! [The Phone rings ... The Sax looks towards the camera.] JS: Time is money Friend ... [... and with that we fade.] JD: Wow, he's like a young Marty Stevens or "Fabulous" Frank Friday. MO: Jesse... good lord. I swear, you have an encyclopedic knowledge of this company's history. Those are names I haven't heard in years, and in at least one case one I hoped I'd never hear again. JD: Sorry, my point is he's really selling Tiger Soul's sizzle. I guess it's gonna be up to Tiger Soul himself to showcase the steak tonight. MO: It's a testament to this company that so many young talents are signing and coming aboard. There's Tiger Soul, we still don't know the status of the inimitable Nenshou who was a guest at Rampage last week, and the team that seems to be on everyone's lips lately... the undefeated Buster MacDonald and Remy Dupuis, better known as the Midnight Children. JD: Alex Kidd's top students, and it's beginning to show why he thinks of them like that. MO: The Midnights are teaming up with Fire And Ice tonight in a special eight man tag match against a common enemy, Ravi Kapoor's India Inc. as well as Stars And Bars. JD: The southern gentlemen who call themselves Stars and Bars took on Alex and Michael last week right here on the Countdown, looking to make a name for themselves. I wonder if tonight they'll be more in a mood to take the outright victory. [Cut to backstage, where we see young Buster MacDonald walking through a hallway. He is dressed to compete, in his red ring gear and sports a confident and happy swagger in his step. The young Jamaican-Canadian smiles and nods as he passes a few techies. BM: Remy... Remy... Where are you man? [As he wanders, he is glancing in and out of doors in search of his partner. He finally stops once he looks up ahead.] BM: Remy!? What are you doing? Excuse me guys... [Buster walks past the camera and finds his partner, young Remy Dupuis standing in front of a door, trying to take a picture with his camera phone. The Quebec native is also clad in his ring gear and smiles as he greets his partner.] RD: Droit à l'heure. Right on time... [Remy reaches out to his partner and hands him his cell phone.] RD: Buster, take my picture. [Remy leans up against the door and flashes a goofy grin with two big thumbs up.] RD: Come on, take it. BM: Dude, for real? RD: I'm serious, just take it. [Buster lets out a sigh of frustration but snaps the picture for his partner.] RD: Sweet, let me see... [Remy leans in and checks out the picture on the camera phone. When he moves, we see a specific logo on the door behind him. The logo belongs to Fire And Ice, The Midnight Children's partners in tonight's eight man tag.] RD: Ah, merci Buster... Growing up, Fire and Ice were one of my favourite tag teams. I loved watching these guys... I can't believe we get to team with them tonight! It is literally blowing my mind that we will have Michael Ice and Alex Perkins in our corner. This is gonna be epic! BM: Well, did you knock? Are they in there? RD: I don't know... I got too nervous. You do it. BM: Oh for Pete's sake. [He leans in to knock, but just before his hand makes contact with the door, Remy reaches out and stops it.] RD: Wait! BM: What now? RD: Do you think... [Remy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black sharpie marker and a pad of paper.] RD: Do you think they would give me an autograph? [Buster's eyes bulge out of their sockets as he slaps the sharpie marker out of his partner's hands and knocks down the paper.] BM: Man, what is wrong with you? RD: Hey, that was my lucky marker! [Buster quickly glances around to make sure no one saw... aside from our camera person of course.] BM: We are supposed to be UWF wrestlers, signed sealed and delivered and you're standing here acting like a damn groupie for these guys. Remember what Alex taught us about being professional... Get it together man, before they kick us out and make us buy a ticket to get in. [Remy goes stone faced as he mulls it over in his mind.] RD: Okay, you're right... Be professional. I don't know what came over me. Thanks pal. BM: All right, that's more like it. Relax, and let's do this. [Buster leans back in and knocks on the door. Remy stares at the floor, talking to himself.] RD: Ok... Be cool... Be cool... You can do this Remy, just be cool... [The door opens slightly, and the scarred, bald head of "Red Hot" Alex Perkins peaks through the gap. He sizes up the two men standing at the door curiously for a moment, before pulling the door open more and turning his head into the locker room.] AP: Hey Mike, we got company. [He turns back towards Remy and Buster and smiles, offering a hand.] AP: Buster, Remy... welcome to our humble abode. Please, come in. RD: Aiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! [And with that, cool just went out the window when Remy goes in for a hug.] RD: I can't believe it's you! I am such a huge fan! OMG this is awesome!!! BM: Did you just say OMG?!?! Get off of him!! [Buster pulls his partner off of Alex Perkins and cuffs him in the back of the head.] BM: I am so sorry Mr. Perkins. [Perkins laughs, waving it off.] AP: Sorry? Are you kidding? No need for that... Remy just made my day. [Dupuis beams.] AP: Our first welcome into the UWF was done with chairs to our heads. I'll take Remy's welcome over that any day. MI: Besides, we've been star struck before. Like, when one of the best young teams in the game today walks into our dressing room... [Into the picture steps "Iceman" Michael Ice. He wipes his hand on his tights, before offering it to MacDonald who returns the handshake in a slightly more professional manner than his partner did. He manages a handshake out of the still-giddy Dupuis as well.] MI: The pleasure is all ours gentlemen. [Perkins, still grinning cheesily, motions for their guests to take a seat.] MI: So, Mr. MacDonald, Mr. Dupuis... what brings you this way? [Buster quickly interrupts.] BM: We're here to discuss strategy. RD: Yes... Strategy... We are here to discuss strategy. You know, for our match tonight. MI: Okay, sounds good. Come on in guys... [As The Midnight Children enter, Michael closes the door leaving our camera man outside. Although it is muffled, a voice can be heard inside.] RD: So.... Where do you guys stand on the whole autograph thing? [Cut to ringside.] MO: Looks like you're not the only one who's a little starstruck about being here, Jesse. JD: Of course not, Buster and Remy are about my age, they grew up with the UWF just like I did. And like me getting to work with you, they got to work and train with the only three-time world heavyweight champion in UWF history. We're all living the dream. MO: From one side of that match to the other, here's a word with Stars and Bars. [The three men who comprise Stars & Bars are in front of a plain white wall. Mallory Savage is sitting on a folding chair wearing a faded t- shirt with a barrel that looks like a skull and two crossed bottles underneath it as well as his Confederate Navy Jack tights. The Bad Hand is leaning against the wall, wrapping some bullrope around his right fist. Meanwhile Jimmy Bellevue paces around with nervous energy.] MS: I would like to apologize for the atrocious behavior you saw on the last UWF program we, Stars and Bars, were on. I am afraid that I haven't the inkling what came over us and I assure you such actions are not the normal behavior that our mothers raised us to condone or take part. [Mallory smiles.] MS: All in all, it seems that the UWF has a problem with fair contests and keeping things sporting. In fact, they seem to promote this sort of "competition" to their audience. The UWF announcers, while studious in their own right, have painted us, the boys of Stars and Bars, as rowdy. Mon frere Jimmy, what say you about such all-e-ga-tions? [Mr. Bellevue keeps pacing.] JB: Oh c'est tres Drole mon frere. The Stars and Bars we ain't a bunch of rowdy ronalds, no. Why we never started no fight with no one.. but we sure ended a lot of fights. [A brief stop and then Jimmy turns to the camera.] JB: Jimmy, he likes to kick back in the swamp and bother nobody. But sometimes fancy boys and their belles come down from the big city like Baton Rouge and New Orleans. [Bellevue's features soften.] JB: Now these boys show up in their fancy cars, wearing they pretty clothes and why do they show up? [Jimmy's eyes light up and pounds his chest.] JB: They show up to laugh at Jimmy and his people! They think it tres drole that people living in the swamp, our ways be funny to them city boys! So they laugh and point and make jokes about ol' Jimmy. Jimmy just takes it and let it run off his back - Jimmy don't want none of that trouble, no sir. Jimmy's mamma done raise him the right way! [Bellevue begins to shake his head and his hands are balled up into fists.] JB: But these fancy city boys - they don't let up; they fix to make Jimmy and his kin look the fool in front of they belles. Jimmy can take so much of that, Jimmy think of turning his cheek but then... then hecan't and when Jimmy can't take it - Jimmy give it. Jimmy teaches those fancy boys a lesson, Ayee! He mess up they hair, he dirty they clothes and he send them running back to those fancy cars as fast as they can run and those city boys they don't come back, ever! [Spit is flying and Bellevue stomps over to the wall and pounds it with his fist.] JB: UWF is like them fancy boys who like to taunt ol' Jimmy. Go ahead UWF you tease and taunt and you say your mean things about me and mon freres. We'll take it, we all grown. Then we get sick an' tired of you laughing and then... then we mess up your pretty faces, ayee! [Bellevue is breathing heavy and hard, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring. Mallory stands up and puts his hand on Jimmy's shoulder. This action seems to calm his brother down. Segue to a series of boom mics, lights, and a wall covering with UWF logos stands in an open area near a junction of hallways backstage, all of it showing this area has been set up to tape various segments the UWF production crew needs. At the moment, Dalbello Rage is standing in front of the camera, speaking in the background of our shot. We can't make out every word, but it sounds like she's filming one of those "we're trained professionals - don't try our moves at home, kids." type of PSAs. The newest backstage interviewer in the UWF, Cammy Magnus, stands just outside the hastily done up set, looking bored while she waits for her turn in front of the camera. Meanwhile, along one of the hallways leadings past this set, three very angry men are walking while talking to each other. No, Rampage hasn't been replaced by an Aaron Sorkin show - it's Ravi Kapoor and the Bhatt Brothers, India Inc. Both Jay and Naresh Bhatt are already in their ring gear, matching white singlets with orange anbd green boots and trim, and a prominent Indian flag centered over each hip. Kapoor is in a loose fitting sports jacket, the top two buttons of his dark blue dress shirt undone, no tie - and we can tell he's out of sorts, as he doesn't even have his Bluetooth headset in his ear.] RK: He can't lay his hands on me! I'm a manager! I'm a businessman! I'm not here to get physical with anyone! He should have been fined, damnit! He needs to pay! NB: He will pay. JB: They'll both pay. They embarrassed as all... Perkins, Ice, those two Canadian goofballs, too... they'll all pay. And we'll be the bill collectors. [As India Inc reach the end of the hallway and turn into the next one, Cammy sees them passing, and instantly her eyes light up. Finally, something to do! She dashes forward, microphone in hand, frantically trying to get their attention.] CM: Ravi! Mr. Kapoor! [The call of a young woman is the one thing designed to always get Ravi Kapoor's attention. He turns his head to see what's going on, and on seeing Cammy running towards him, he stops and puts a hand out to warn Naresh to do the same. Jay, bringing up the rear, looks impatiently with his partner and manager for stopping, but reluctantly does so himself. Magnus, slightly out of breath, sidles up to the three of them to begin asking her questions, all while Kapoor just blatantly looks her up and down like a side of beef.] CM: Tonight, you're in an eight-man match with Stars and Bars against the team that beat you last week, the Midnight Children, and the team who cost you that match, Fire and Ice. [This open-ended statement must be meant as a question, because Cammy stands there expectantly, waiting for one of the members of India Inc. to start spewing venom at their opponents. But none of them do. Both Jay and Naresh just stand there impassively, while Kapoor smirks as he continues to do nothing but openly check the far too young for him Magnus out. Cammy becomes a bit flustered at the silence from the Bhatts and the creepy attention from Kapoor, blushing as she fills in the silence herself.] CM: Do you have any thoughts on the match tonight? What's your game plan going into it? [Jay scoffs at that question, making a small nasal snort in response. Naresh just stands there, face blank, not even really looking at our interviewer. And Ravi, apparently having taken in all the eye candy he cares for, turns to his two men and begins to ignore young Cammy.] RK: Come on boys, let's go. [And with that, all three men turn on their heels and continue on down the hallway and out of our shot, leaving an astonished Cammy Magnus standing behind them, sadly holding her microphone, none of her questions answered.] MO: Nice to see Cammy pick up another interview, such as it was. JD: Well she did get that exclusive with Trinity back on Throwdown. MO: Yes, I meant to ask her how she managed to finagle that. JD: Pretty simple. Much like Laura Davis and the rest of Trinity, her fancy is unstrikeable. Kindred spirits I think. MO: Her fancy is unstrikeable? JD: Yep, trust me on that one. MO: Okay. We're almost ready for our first bonus match on the evening, featuring more new blood coming into the UWF's ranks. "Wild" Bill Ian scored his debut win last week, but faces stiffer competition tonight in the highflying John Shock. [Fade in from black. We're in the backstage area of the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas. Standing by with us is "Wild" Bill Ian, well, he's not actually really ready to give his thoughts right now. Rather, it seems as if "Wild" Bill is setting up some business on the other end of the phone currently attached to the side of his head. "Wild" Bill seems to be a little bit upset as he speaks loudly right back to the unknown caller.] WBI: I'm going to tell you the samething I told the others... my price continues to go up. My original offer? Why don't you just triple it now. [There is a pause.] WBI: Well, didn't you watch the last Rampage? Exactly, my price has gone up as a result. [Again another pause, "Wild" Bill just cracks a smirk.] WBI: It's a seller's market, amigo. [He pulls back the phone as if the other end is screaming loudly.] WBI: I'll let you think about it. [He hangs up the phone and tucks it into the side of his blue jeans. "Wild" Bill stands up and knocks the ash off the front of his black Tom Waits t-shirt before reaching into his pocket for another light. He turns right to the camera as he puts on his oversided Aviator sunglasses in this dark room.] WBI: What is this? Is this the land of cheapskates? You make a reasonable pitch, you make a fair offer and they say 'oh that's too much, 'Wild' Bill!' You're the ones looking for my help, you're the ones who came calling for me and yet you turn around because the price is too high? But, I'm not worried. The stakes are only going to be rising from this point on, more and more people are going to look at the number I have written down and handed them and slowly that number is going to look better and better. Soon, it's going to seem like a bargain. [He stops and thinks about it for a moment. Any excitement fades from his face quickly.] WBI: ...or is this the land of doubt? [Bill just shakes his head.] WBI: Maybe the price only seems too high to some of you 'cause you just don't know what expect from "Wild" Bill. Maybe you don't think too much of what I can do for you or think I can't live up to the services I offer. Doubt me? [Bill flicks open his lighter and sparks it.] WBI: Tell you what, I want everyone in the back pull a chair up to nearest monitor here in the back and watch me out there against John Shock. I want you to remember that I really have nothing against John Shock, no harsh words to say, no ill feelings towards him. Watch him tumble. Watch him twitch. Now remember, it's only business for me. It's only about that cold hard cash. [Looking directly into the flame, Bill shuts the top of the Zippo with that last statement.] WBI: If you know him, if you know his family... make sure they know that too, make sure little Johnny or Jenny know it was only business before packing up their lunches and sending them off to school the next day. Hell, give'em a kiss from dear old daddy too. No ill will. No harsh words. Business. [He's cold and unemotional now, no real movements in his face, none of the usual twitches.] WBI: After it's all over, I want to you to look at that number in the palm of your hand once again and start asking yourself can you afford me... no, screw that! I want you to look at that number in the palm of your hand and wonder who else is looking at that exact same number, who else is starting to think maybe it's a good solid number. [Bill looks down at his hands.] WBI: Either way, from doubt to tightwad... you're going to give that number a double take. Don't forget to leave a message if the line is busy. [With that, Bill hauls off towards the ring.] -O-C----------------------------- "Wild" Bill Ian versus John Shock -O-C----------------------------- Ian and Shock wasted little time in connecting, as the larger "Wild" Bill attempted to rough his opponent up and got in a few shots before the aerial maneuvers began, Shock catching Ian with a handspring elbow and leading into a pump splash for a near fall. Ian caught the Shock Kick and slugged him down, waited for him to return to his feet near the ropes and caught him with a lariat that propelled both out of the ring to the floor. Ian followed this with a short-arm clothesline into the ringpost that left Shock sprawled on the floor, and Bill slid back into the ring just in time to beat the count. WINNER: Bill Ian by countout MO: "Wild" Bill scores a big win here! Someone on the complete other end of that spectrum is Trey DaMann, the former world heavyweight champion. In fact, since he lost the championship last summer Trey has been unable to break out of his losing slump. JD: Yeah, I thought he might have been able to pull it out last week in the three-way dance but bad luck struck again. MO: Bad luck, Victor Frost and Pablo O'Connor, that is. When I talked to Trey he seemed like he was in a fog after the match, and after you see this next piece of footage I think that fog has yet to lift. [The view fades in to show a pattern of small white boxes with black outlines. As the camera pans out, this is revealed to be the ceramic floor of a locker room backstage. A pair of legs adorned in black dress pants and faded black wingtips are stretched out along the floor. The man's torso is leaning up against a row of old lockers. His black button- down shirt is untucked and completely undone. Between the camera and the man is a solitary red candle. It's nearing its end, as it is no longer standing as tall as it used to. Streaks of red wax fall from the top, down the sides, and into little pools on the tile floor. Trey DaMann just stares coldly at the dancing flame. The fire burns a very bright white up at the top. Below, the part that surrounds the blackened wick is a deep blue. This is where the fire is hottest and does the most damage. Even lower, there is some small piece of the wick that is pristinely white and not yet touched. It will be devoured soon enough, which in turn, leads to another pristinely white piece being exposed and eventually burned as well. TD: (whispers) Johnny Axis. Michael Bonn. Brett Young. Pablo O'Connor. Johnny Axis. Michael Bonn. Brett Young. Pablo O'Connor. Johnny Axis. Michael Bonn. Brett Young. Pablo O'Connor. [His voice rises to what may be described as a more normal tone.] TD: Oh, so much wonderful revenge for the taking. I love revenge. [Every word is given exaggerated emphasis.] TD: Who. Will. It. Be? Who...... Will...... It....... Be? [He strokes his chin, covered with several days' worth of stubble. Trey's baby blue eyes stare into the flame as he searches for an answer.] TD: There's only one choice. It's you, Gabriel Whitecross. [His gaze shifts from the flame to the viewers at home. The dark shadows around his eyes now appear larger and blacker.] TD: You, Gabriel Whitecross, who can make all the bleeding stop. [DaMann displays a pained grin. The light from the candle embellishes all the lines in his cheeks, around his eyes, and across his forehead. He is starting to look much older than his 27 years.] TD: You can make no more screaming in my head. They're ashamed and disappointed and angry and they're not quiet about it. It causes so much pain in my ears. It makes everything hurt. They've turned my own head against me. It doesn't listen anymore. Such a naughty brain. Sit in the corner for a while and think about what you've done. [Trey runs his hand through his disheveled black hair, which is now starting to grow long and wavy from lack of attention.] TD: Gabriel Whitecross will make it go away. He stops the bad people. He is the hero. He is everyone's hero. He will be MY hero. [DaMann giggles to himself.] TD: I just need to ruin him. Like he did to me. Beat all the pride and conviction and righteousness out of him until they are little puddles of blood all over the floor. [Trey looks down, eyes widened from shock.] TD: Oh no! Look at the mess we've made. Daddy is going to be so angry! [His baby blues angle up once more.] TD: It will be so beautiful. [DaMann bites down hard on his lower lip. His teeth gritted and corners of his lips turned upward.] TD: Give me what I want, Gabe. You know you won't say no. Deep down, you love revenge almost as much as I do. Come back and put things right. Make all this agony I feel disappear into the air. Goodbye. [DaMann looks up and off into the distance, slowly waving his hand at nothing in particular.] TD: Ha ha ha. [His gaze turns back towards the flame.] TD: What a fancy situation we have here. [Trey reaches out to the candle with his index finger.] TD: I can hurt you, and all you can do is save me. [He looks intently at the fire, with his finger moving closer and closer.] TD: That makes me feel all tingly inside. [DaMann's eyes close as his finger now touches the bright white top of the flame. His grin is one of pure bliss. Trey begins to lower his finger slowly towards the deep blue tip. His eyes remain shut as he relies only on feel for direction.] TD: Return Gabe, you coward. Allow me to have my fun. Let me make you suffer, the way I do. I've been a good boy, and I want my dessert. [DaMann finally reaches the blue tip and keeps his finger there for as long as he can. Reflex forces him to pull it back, causing his blissful smile to turn into a disappointed frown. His eyes open up once more.] TD: I want to hear your screams become louder than my own. Then the puzzle will be put back together. Be a pretty picture once more. Come back for one more, Gabe. That's all I need. [Fade.] JD: He's kinda losing his mind, isn't he? MO: It's unsettling to see what's become of DaMann, considering how inflated his ego was much of last year. His psyche couldn't take the loss of the championship, and Gabriel Whitecross has been the target of his obsession ever since. But even in his current mental state, he's still a very dangerous man. And from one danger to another, Taylor MacKenzie has wasted no time in proving herself to the women's division after months of running around as the Woman In Black. In few few minutes, she'll face stiff competition in the ring against "Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson. [Cut to the locker room, where we find Trinity member and UWF's newest addition to the women's division Taylor MacKenzie sitting cross-legged on the bench. She is wearing a red half-top, black tights, red boots and black fingerless gloves. There is a chilling calmness in her grey eyes as she nods curtly towards the camera.] Taylor: Summer, I hope you've given some thought to the Trinity's offer. We are not asking for a decision now -- it would be unfair to take focus away from your title defense against a certain egomaniac. Even though, I doubt she'll be a problem... [The barest trace of a smirk crosses Taylor's face.] But the very fact the UWF considers her "worthy" of a shot at your belt should give you cause for concern as to who they really want to promote here. A narcissistic "diva" who has dragged this sport down just as much as Nikki the Cat -- or your last challenger Nina Grimsson. [At Nina's name, Taylor scowls.] Taylor: [voice quiet and steady] You are a degenerate, Nina. The fact that you EVER held gold in this federation is a disgrace. When Laura proved she was your better, you whined about a bias against your so- called hardcore "talent", but she just showed you up for the petty little THUG you really are. And you're STILL whining. Against Laura and Scottie, against Summer -- against ANYONE who recognizes that you're nothing but a sick little girl with big delusions of being a threat. There is NOTHING redeemable about you in your attitude or skill. [Taylor's mouth curls into a faint, serene smile] And that means I don't have to hold back tonight.... You are just another piece of garbage for the Trinity to cull, Nina. You are unwelcome in this place. [Her grey eyes blaze in righteous zeal.] And after I am finished, no one will miss you when you are gone... -O-C----------------------------------------------- Taylor MacKenzie versus "Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson -O-C----------------------------------------------- Taylor came down to the ring accompanied by Scottie Saratoga, and the crowd booed them mercilessly. When Nina arrived, she heard a mixed response but more positive than it's been in a while. The match started off in something of a technical vein, but it wasn't long before a concentrated attack on Grimsson's legs by Taylor resulted in the two spilling to the outside where anger boiled over and Nina whipped her hard to the barrier for a brutal assault. Saratoga's running commentary distracted Nina and allowed Taylor to regain control in sending Nina headfirst into the post, then smashing her onto the ringsteps with a bodyslam before throwing her back into the ring. As the crowd began to boo her again, Taylor scowled and hooked Grimsson by the neck for a quick series of moves targetting the throat. Nina started to battle back, but a concealed leg trip by Scottie and Taylor was quick to pounce with the Savage Grace and a quick three count with a handful of Nina's waistband. Following the match, Nina slowly got to her knees and began to laugh with a sinister expression on her face. This continued on her entire way back to the locker rooms, which left the crowd slightly freaked out. WINNER: Taylor MacKenzie by pinfall MO: Two self-righteous combatants with something to prove, and what a war that was. Scottie might have tipped the scales in Taylor's favor, but one way or another the crowd wasn't going to be happy with the decision. And what on earth was that reaction after the match? Nina Grimsson clearly with something on her mind there. JD: Another win for Trinity, but I don't think their evening's over yet. Summer Blake's going to be on Rampage, and I have a hunch they may come calling to get an answer to their offer. [Elsewhere backstage at the MGM Grand Garden Arena we spy young Penny Zadian going through some forms on a clipboard. She is absorbed in her work until...] "Look! It's the lovely Miss Zadian!" [She looks up then jumps back when she sees Stephanie Delacroix and Pablo O'Connor approach her. Delacroix is in a navy blue dress suit with a light blue shirt underneath and has a cherry colored purse with her. O'Connor is wearing a white Real Madrid t-shirt and black Adidas track pants. He also seems to be hiding something behind his back. They sport big fake looking smiles and Zadian immediately puts her clipboard behind HER back.] PZ: O'Connor! Delacroix! If it isn't UWF's Sweethearts. SD: Why hello, Penny! You are looking so lovely today, isn't she honey? [Pablo makes a face then flashes the fake smile again.] POC: Mighty purty looking! PZ [deadpan]: A master of flattery, thank you. SD: Yes, look Penny.. [Stephanie steps closer towards Penny, who looks very weary of this advance.] SD: I know that we haven't exactly gotten off on the right foot. But we would like to put the ugliness of all that behind us. So to make up for it we wanted to give you this! [Delacroix nods at her husband who then produces a Hello Kitty clipboard from behind his back and hands it to Zadian!] PZ: A Hello Kitty clipboard? SD: To make up for the clipboard that accidentally got broken the last time we met. PZ: I don't think we have the same definition of "accidentally". SD: It's a really nice clipboard! You should see all the Hello Kitty things you can buy! PZ: I've always dreamt of impressing corporate bigwigs with something like this. SD: Well you keep that for whatever you want. It's yours! PZ: Well, thanks. You've rendered my tablet obsolete. [Stephanie looks at Pablo who nods his head and winks at her.] SD: Yes, now.. is Miss Reed in? We really need to see her. PZ: Miss Reed... SD: My husband is feeling under the weather.. [Now Pablo makes a pained face and holds his stomach and theatrically swoons.] SD: I don't think he can compete tonight! POC: UGH! Guts are on fire! So... So weak! PZ: Let me guess... Chili's? SD: These things come and go, you know how it is, right? [Zadian is poker faced.] POC: I so wanted.. UGH.. To do the fisticuffs against that scoundrel "brother" of mine.. UGH... SD: I know you did, Honey Bunny! PZ: Hmmmm... SD: So, can you set up a little meeting for us with Miss Reed? [Penny sighs then shakes her head.] PZ: Even if I was a personal secretary, which I am not, she's too busy to deal with the talent directly, whether they're champions or cowards trying to weasel out of a match. [Oh no she didn't!] SD: WHAT?! POC: Cowards?! PZ: Isn't your match coming up like real soon? POC: My guts are on fire! [Zadian looks Pablo over then shakes her head.] PZ: No they're not. If they were, they'd be red instead of this shade of yellow. SD: This is outrageous! I will have your job, kid! [Penny shakes her head again.] PZ: If you want to apply for the position, you can leave a resume. But they prefer hiring smart people. [Delacroix shakes a finger at Zadian.] SD: One of these days.. Somewhere.. Someway.. I am going to make you suffer! *YANK* [Zadian rolls her eyes as Delacroix yanks back the Hello Kitty clipboard and they stomp offscreen. She pulls out her other clipboard and goes back to work.. Until..] *YANK* PZ: Hey! [Pablo is back, and has the clipboard with the forms on it in his hands.] PZ: Wait.. Don't... *SNAP* [He breaks it in half over his knee, just like he did the other time, and then walks offscreen again. Zadian rubs the temples of her head then picks up the broken clipboard and surveys the forms.] PZ: Well at least they didn't rip the papers this time. Fax machines iron out wrinkles, anyway... [With that she walks off as we cut to Moe and Jesse one more time.] MO: Pablo and Stephanie appear to be up to their old tricks again. JD: Yeah, and he's got to fight Brett Young in a little bit. He's got to be absolutely freaked out by that. MO: If I know the two of them, that probably wasn't the first time he tried to get out of his match. I think... [pause] What's that? Hmm. Well ladies and gentlemen, I've just been informed that we have a bit of a breaking story to report and some footage from one of the mobile crews has come in. Let's go to that. [A bar at mid-day. It's fairly empty, because lets face it...no sane person drinks during the day unless they're a raging alcoholic or from a European country. That being said, a woman sits on the stage with her back turned away from the camera, strumming a guitar, entertaining the...three people in there. Next to her, sits a half-empty bottle of spirits.The mid day light shining through the window drowns out her features. At that moment, the front door swings open as a hooded female strolls in. How do we know it's a "she"? Those gorgeous gams, dude...ain't no man ever gonna' have legs like that(Sorry, Landis). She deposits herself at the bar and from beneath her cloak, she slams a box marked "Beard Papa's" onto the counter.] *WOOSH!* *SNAP!* [Along with a collapsible baton.] *ZZZZZZZ!!!* [A tazer.] *CLICK* [And a pink, Hello Kitty box cutter blade. The barkeep raises an eyebrow, but shrugs. It's not really different from the norm. Then, it a high- pitched, too-cute for such a grim-looking shadowy figure to have voice, she demands...] "Patrón." [The barkeeper seems mildly shocked.] Barkeep: Woah...are you sure about that? Creampuffs and tequila are a DANGEROUS mix. "Leave the bottle." Barkeep: Well...don't say I didn't warn you. Anything else? "Yes." [At that moment, she pulls back her hood, revealing an unamused Miyuki Ozaki. She has a weary look on her face and her hair is now a very noticeable...BLACK. She pouts her lips and turns around, yelling at the musician on the stage.] Miyuki: STOP PLAYING THAT HIDEOUS MUSIC! [One last strum of the guitar hits an awkward chord as the musicians head rises. Her music stops and the three patrons sitting nearby immediately leave their seats, moving to the edges of the bar. The path between the two women becomes clear.] Musician: I don't recall asking you for your opinion. [And then she strums, this time a better chord, though admittedly, amateur.] Musician: And if I had? I'd ignore it anyways. [And strum...] Miyuki: Feh. Amateur playing... [Miyuki downs a shot in one gulp and slams it back down on the counter. ] Miyuki: ...from amateur musician. [She turns back to her drink and cream puffs and we then cut back to a close-up of the musician, still playing on her guitar.] *HOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!* [When a huge honking sound rips through the bar like Scottie Saratoga through an unattended bag of twinkies(Long story). The musician is noticeably startled, almost dropping her guitar. The shot then cuts back to Miyuki, back still turned towards the bar, arm raised high into the air...holding an air horn.] Miyuki: Why you stop playing? [Shot. Swig. Slam.] Miyuki: I thought you ignoring my opinion. [Smirk.] Musician: ... [The musician takes the guitar by the neck and sets it aside. She then turns around to see just who is working so hard and succeeding so easily at pissing her off. Having turned towards the bar, the light from the window reveals the red color of her hair and the remnants of a massive facial bruise created by Laura Davis' boot.] Tesla St. James: Fantastic. [A grunt] The walking Acme bag of tricks. [Looks along the bar, specifically on either side of Miyuki, seeing that she is alone.] TSJ: Where'd your pack of Wile E. Coyote's go? [There's a slight look of disappointment on Miyuki's face, as if she expected someone else entirely. Possibly Aunt Maria or an evil clone. But alas...it's just boring ol' Tesla St. James.] Miyuki: Oh...it's you. [Miyuki examines her perfectly manicured nails, not too concerned by Tesla at the moment.] Miyuki: I give girls an important mission. Must get even with the stupid cat lady. [She looks up at Tesla.] Miyuki: If he still alive, I sure Lee-sensei will tell you about it some day. [Miyuki stretches out her arms, revealing her attire underneath the cloak: a sleeve-less shirt with a milk carton "MISSING" image of Johanna Suprema, leather pants, combat boots, a length of chain wrapped around her right forearm, several weapons strapped on her person...and what looks to be a utility belt. She gets up out of her chair and strolls up to Tesla, looking her eye-to-eye.] Miyuki: So...why YOU here singing crappy love songs instead of beating Laura Davis head in, Tesla-chan? [Tesla bites her tongue for so many reasons, the least of which being her immediate desire to rip Miyuki's heart out, Temple of Doom style. For a moment she looks back to her guitar, the gears turning, the need and want to make the musical instrument an instrument of pain. Instead, she resists temptation and turns back to Miyuki.] TSJ: Because I don't need to send minions on missions. Because I don't need to create some Machiavellian scheme to denounce every woman who ever wrestled and cry foul that I was overlooked. I will do things my way and in the course of that, if I want to take a break and meditate, that is what I will do. And then, as you say, I will beat Laura Davis' [MEEP]ing brains out. I'd advise you not to get in my way. [Tesla emphasizes her point by poking Miyuki in the chest.] Miyuki: Really? More like you get in MY way. I figure you sitting around waiting for me to take care of everything for you. After all, if we leaving things up to Tesla St. James, she probably just going to- [Tesla cuts her off, her voice low and on the brink of anger.] TSJ: Don't you dare say it. [There's only one person in the world that could've stopped Miyuki Ozaki at that moment from saying the words that would seal her fate, but unfortunately for Tesla St. James, she is not Devil Hoshino. Miyuki grins, saying the unspeakable word with a big smile.] Miyuki: ...choke! [OH NO SHE DIDN'T! The next sound we hear is a glass falling to the ground and shattering as the barkeeper can't believe what Miyuki just said. This is then followed by the sounds of four pairs of feet quickly exiting the bar. Time stands still as the scene almost begs for a tumbleweed to roll on by. Tesla's eyes grow wide like an exploding star. But rather destroying anything and everything around her like said cosmic event, her rage turns inward, binding so tight like a concentrated black hole of spite. The redhead's eyes grow thing, her pupils constrict and only spiteful words come forth.] TSJ: No wonder Scottie dumped you. [There is no reaction from Miyuki. These two girls just "WENT THERE" and they're not coming back. Miyuki stares at Tesla and then takes a step back, as we see her rummaging beneath her cloak. As she does so, almost as if something has been broken inside her psyche, she calmly speaks in Japanese.] Miyuki: (The average Japanese woman is expected to be betrayed by a close friend a minimum of fourteen times in her life.) *CLANK!* *CLINK!* *THUD* [From beneath her cloak, we see a pair of brass knuckles, a pair of nunchuks, a steel chain, several pairs of handcuffs, an icepick, the official 19 disc DVD set for the PVW Tradition VII main event and a tire iron fall to the floor. Whether Tesla understands what Miyuki is saying, we don't know...but even she knows some serious ju-ju is going down. However, what Tesla does understand is body language, and she senses a fight brewing. Tesla keeps her eyes on Miyuki as she pulls off her jacket and tosses it aside.] Miyuki: (I have experienced this thirteen times now, but it's not betrayal that pains my soul...it's the blatant lack of respect shown to me. I can wrestle anywhere else in the world and be treated with respect, but it's only in the UWF where I'm treated like a second-class citizen.) [Miyuki unhooks her cloak, letting it slide to the floor.] *THUD* [That thing was apparently a lot heavier than it looked.] Miyuki: (It's one thing to be put down by a coward like Taylor McKenzie who tucked tail and ran off to the outer reaches of Canada when faced with the slightest hint of competition or to be mocked by a passive- aggressive backstabber like Scottie Saratoga who couldn't even tell me to my face that she never wanted to be my friend or even a jealous, insecure world champion like Laura Davis, who probably didn't get enough hugs when she was a child...but you, Tesla? I really expected better from you.) [Miyuki balls her hands into fists. Tesla acknowledges the gesture, getting into a fighter's crouch. In the precious seconds before the soon to be epic physical confrontation, Tesla speaks, but not in English. To provide symmetry to this all, Tesla speaks in the language of her Russian father.] TSJ: (Whatever happens, know that you brought this upon yourself.) [Miyuki nods grimly at Tesla's statement.] Miyuki: (I'm going to attack you, Tesla. Pray for your survival.) [She takes in a deep breath, before saying something everyone can understand...] Miyuki: Ginger slut... [Woah. Haven't heard that one in awhile.] Miyuki: ...YOU DIE NOW!!! [And with that, the two charge at each other...the world fades to an overly dramatic, yet cost efficient black. 3... 2... 1... RAMPAGE!] |
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3:30 AM Jul 11