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Jason Zero vs. Drew Weilacher
Topic Started: Mar 11 2010, 12:18 PM (138 Views)
Kassie Khane
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Jason Zero vs. Drew Weilacher

Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday, March 16, 2010
RP Limit: 2 RP per person, per match
~~Good Luck to Everyone!~~
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Hobo
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*In the office of Matt Bishop, we find Mr. Drachewych seated in front of the desk as Bishop is pacing back and forth behind it. Bishop seems to be rambling about something, but Drachewych appears calm and collected*

"Everything was so perfect! We had it all planned out and almost got that title away from Starr!"

"Matt..."

"Then Jason Zero had to stick his nose where it didn't belong!"

"Matt..."

"Zero isn't even a fucking referee! He had to right to-"

"Matt, shut up for a moment."

*While it wasn't a shout, the threatening tone of his boss's voice is enough to silence Bishop, who now stands perfectly still with his eyes glued to Drachewych*

"It's true that Zero stuck his nose in our business, where it didn't belong, at Retribution and ruined everything. But this is far from over. One little setback isn't going to stop Infection from regaining control of SCW."

"No offense Mr. Drachewych, but it's starting to get harder and harder to get SCW back under your control. Retribution was our best chance with your daughter banned from the building and CHBK hurt from his match, and Zero ruined everything. And while Drew and I are completely loyal to you, I'm not so sure how long Greg is going to stand by us with Starr constantly escaping with that title. And Stacy's not coming back for quite some time thanks to Drew."

"Which reminds me... Drew's been pretty quiet since our little meeting began. Is everything alright with him?"

*Drew Weilacher is finally noticed leaning against the side wall of the office. His arms are folded across his chest and his eyes are closed. And there's a disturbing smile on his lips, but it's one that carried hints of maliciousness instead of happiness*

"He's fine. It's just that this is the first time in a long time he's been happy after hurting somebody. Normally he'll just break somebody in half and move on to the next victim, but he was quite pleased with what he did to Stacy. He's trying to keep that mindset for when he faces Zero at Breakdown."

"I'm glad to hear that. If Drew keeps this kind of focus when he causes someone harm, Zero will have to be taken out of the US Airways Center in an ambulance."

"And that means one lest pest to try and interfere with Infection."

*There's a big smile on Bishop's face as he seems to be imagining the torture Weilacher will put Zero through at Breakdown. It's at this point that Drew's eyes open and he finally says something*

"Any chance I can shoot something to address Zero real quick?"

*Bishop and Drachewych exchange glances for a moment*

"I don't see why not."

"Might as well let him know he's a dead man walking sooner rather than later."

*****

*The scene opens to the office of Matt Bishop, manager of Drew Weilacher. Drew is wearing only his usual torn up blue jeans and a pair of faded tennis shoes, his arms folded across his chest and an evil, disturbing smile on his lips*

Drew: I bet you're feeling pretty damn proud of yourself right now, aren't you Zero? Why shouldn't you? You inserted yourself into a situation you didn't belong in, and you screwed Greg Cherry out of what should've rightfully been his a long time ago. You can argue that Cherry didn't deserve it because he wasn't even a part of that match, but you'd be ignoring the fact that Sasha didn't put him in there when he deserved that shot a whole hell of a lot more than Thorn did. I mean, think about this: the name of the fucking show was Retribution, so wouldn't it make sense putting Starr up against Cherry, who has a score to settle with him, instead of Thorn, who is friends with Starr and would rather preach all that 'respect' bullshit? And right when the man who should be in charge of SCW right now is about to make everything right, you decide to play the 'agent of chaos' like you've been preaching about and fuck everything up. You know what that earns you, Jason? It earns you a one way ticket to your annihilation, and I'll be more than happy to lead the way.

*Drew cracks his knuckles*

Drew: It's been a long time since I've felt any enjoyment in dismantling someone. But when I took that bitch Stacy and gave her not one, not two, but three Jersey Devil Drivers, I actually felt happy at what I'd just done. That only means bad things for you, Zero. When I can really enjoy hurting someone, I'm far more dangerous than when I'm simply pissed off. This way, I can actually take my time in causing you pain. I'll drag out your suffering in order to thoroughly enjoy myself before I pin what's left of you and walk away with the win.

Tell me something Jason... do you consider what you did at Retribution 'chaos'? That wasn't chaos, that was you making sure that order remained in the main event. I thought order was the opposite of what you were trying to bring to SCW? Or do you just have the definitions of 'chaos' and 'order' mixed up? If you wanted to create chaos in the main event, you would've laid everybody out or caused something to happen that would've left people wondering who the world champ is right now. But you didn't do either of those things. All you managed to do was show Infection that you're a pest, and I'm going to be the exterminator at Breakdown. When I'm through with you, it'll be a miracle if you can ever walk again.


*Drew chuckles*

Drew: When we face off at Breakdown Zero, I'm going to show you what real chaos is. I'm going to give those fans a reason to have their jaws on the floor, and I'm going to need a bunch of security guards present to hold me back as though there was a full blown riot going on. You'd better have an ambulance ready and waiting Zero, because you're going to need it when I'm finished with you. You're going to regret ever getting involved in business that wasn't yours. And the best part is... there's not a damn thing you're going to be abloe to do to stop me.

*Fade out*
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Faust
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OOC: Wow... I wrote this last night when I was somewhat inebriated from partying with the pals in Stratford... so here goes man. I have no idea what I was thinking here, so if it doesn't make any sense, my apologies. Just had to get it up for peace of mind since I don't know if I will be around the computer any time soon.





Laughing in the face of the Unknown
Rage.

For the past few weeks to a month, I have been feeling nothing short of the purest of rage beginning to flood my senses. It all started simply enough with annoyance. The Two For One Special did not go as planned. Savior was someone that had been a pain in the ass for awhile, but with the exception of one solitary incident, I had had all but obliterated him at every turn. I sent Cherry off too, his bags packed and all of that glorious shit (or so I thought), Karnivale had beaten the rest of Infection senseless in so many matches all over the country. All of this had managed to open up Olek’s eyes. From that point, everything was supposed to be all hunky dorky, but alas...Things are never quite as they seem, are they? Like an annoying rash, the Infection remained. The structure of power had somewhat altered, but they remained.

Annoyance turned to frustration. Week in and week out, Olek and Cherry have found some way to dick with me and Starr, worming Cherry into no less than 4 different title shots. Beating me down for two weeks straight, trying to book me into a death match that they expected I would have no way to keep my IWC title and generally humilating me-I was getting tired of it. I played as nice as I could. I didn't pull a Savior and try to trick them into giving me what I wanted. I didn't try to power play my way into anything. I just played the game legit, quietly going through the motions along side of the rest of the main roster with the enthusiasm of a dead man. That letter from my overseas contact concerning my first attempt at a ‘power play’ was something of a relief, to know that they could only dick me over so much...but then again… you all saw that.

Finally, anger comes into play. Weeks of being fucked over by those with power, weeks of being treated like a fool and made to look like I'm some kind of feeble fucking idiot. Getting cheated by Sasha and ignored by Douglas over the simple matter of whether or not the IWC title belongs to Starr or me. I didn’t mind if it turned out to be his… I just wanted a goddamn answer. Meanwhile, Savior, who is the wrestling equivalent of a dingleberry, was spineless enough to steal it. Now though...Now, they deny me the right to even know who I am supposed to defend my title against at Paranoia or rather… if I am defending it at all! As for SCW, I am left picking up the scraps of the once proud fed and trying to do what I said I would do. So who could call me a villain? IWC… They deny me the right to adequately prepare myself. SCW… They've set me up to fail. They've set me up for more of their taunts and their mocking laughter. A man can only go for so long, receiving blow after blow to their body and ego before one of two things happen; they either break down and give in or they snap.

I'm about to snap.

I've been treated like shit for years of my life. Regardless of if I was someones source of amusement or able to think for myself freely, unhindered by the constant bullshit that was fed to me in my early, ignorant years. Every single day, from the age of seven on. Here I am, going on twenty six, and the bullshit continues. A man can only take so much. I can only take so much before that animalistic urge to strike back rears its head. I can feel it, even as I sit here upon the balcony of my hotel room. Through the numbing cold, through the constant buzz of traffic raging below through the night, I can feel it. It surges through my mind, flooding my thoughts and feelings with something cruel and brutal. For so long, I've played the nice guy. I've just happily trudged along through it all...

A man can only take so much.

Forget the happiness I should be feeling right now. Forget the fact that a date for judgment day has been decided on. Forget the fact that soon, I will have the kingdom that I have always been denied. Forget each and every detail, each and every single thing I could take solace in. Breathe in the cold air, feel the rage building. Feel it manifest into strength. Feel it all and focus.

Dully, my eyes turn downward toward the city below. The dull lights assault my eyes, their yellowish hue makes it hard to see to some extent, but I can see my target clearly from my current position. None too far off stands the Breakdown Arena, where this event is stated to occur. I chose this hotel just so I could look out at it, so I could observe it and let my mind focus upon exactly what it is that I have set out to do. Like the living dead, I stare vacantly at it like I have done for many times this past week before I slowly push myself up onto my feet.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

My body's automatic, ignorant to any conscious thought I may have. Something instinctual drives me, something bestial and ancient. Something powerful. Without anything else daring to steal my eyes attention, I move toward the railing. I still don't know why. Not even as my hands settle on top of it, my fingers clutching the frigid metal before my triceps force my body upward. It's a natural movement, one so well practiced that I barely realize what I'm doing until the pads of my feet are pressed into the steel and once more I rise. This time, however, I am not standing on the balcony. I'm standing on the rail, staring out at the city like a suicide waiting to happen.

I still don't know why.

Like a hawk, I stare down upon this place while my arms rise upward. I should be struggling for balance, yet my body is as calm as it offers itself to the world. In a Jesus Christ pose, I stand silent through cold wind. Whatever it is that drives me to this, I cannot help but give in. Here, perched upon this ledge, I am fearless. There is no more anger, only intent. If I can stand against the world, I can stand against anything. I can defeat anything.

“...What are you doing?”, a meek voice sounds out from behind me. It's a voice I know well-Felicia's. In a dead manner, I glance back over my shoulder and gaze upon her. She's barely clothed, wearing a short , light pink night gown that clings to her in the right places. An expression of light fear and confusion rests upon her features. She knows full well that this isn't what it appears to be, but she still cannot help but feel that natural fear that comes from such a sight. For a few long moments, we trade glances. Hers just as confused and frightened and mine just as blank as before. She doesn't know what I'm doing, nor do I.

Without a word, I step backward and give in to gravity. My weight drops back down onto the concrete of the balcony, my knees flexing beneath my weight to allow me to land in something of a crouch. Without another word, I slowly turn to face her properly and, as though nothing had happened at all, I walk toward her. The cold flesh of my arm wraps around her waist, my hand clutching her warm body by the waist as I lead her back into that hotel room. I don't say anything, I simply usher her back inside while reaching behind myself, closing the sliding glass door behind me. I don't hear the dull click, nor do I hear the words that leave her lips as she speaks to me. I simply nod to whatever she says and lead her back to bed.

I know what is occurring within my mind now. I know where it is that I have gone. The frustration as come to a head, my anger as pure as it can be. I have stood against the world, dared it to take me over as the frigid air had assaulted by flesh. I have stood against many odds before and I have won more often than not. Something within me knows this, it cherishes this. I can stand against these insults, I can rise above them.

Give me whoever you wish, Sasha. Drew, Bishop… even Oleksa himself. If the world cannot push me over the edge, you don't stand a chance.

========================================================

“So, you got all the info I wanted, right?” Zero asked as he sat at the dining room table inside of his hotel. Infront of him, three folders laid neatly in front of him with each one labeled with a name. While there was an obvious level of certainty in his voice as he said it, knowing full well that the man who had delivered those files wouldn't short him on said information, there was also a slight sense of doubt. Three folders seemed to be lacking for the questioned ask.

“...Kind of.” That man would reply as he stood in the kitchen, idly measuring out honey for his green tea. “...There was more, but Road Block decided he wanted to make a human snow globe.” Exile said as he stirred in the vicious amber fluid into the steaming fluid. Once he was content with the mixture, he would step into the living room to join the one codenamed ‘Black Cat’. He was dressed as per usual; a full suit and tie get up, with a black overcoat covering his figure. His hair was a calculated mess and a few days worth of stubble lined his jawline.

Shaking his head at the revelation, Zero would bring a hand up and lightly knead the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. Road Block had rarely been a source of trouble for him as whenever he was around, why he ever was allowed into the Elite, Zero had no freaking clue. Neither of these two had a clue concerning the true bearer of vial ‘Adam’ nor the intentions of one of their top agents. They were about as clueless as Oleksa and his precious Infection copy-cat regime, had been concerning the identity of the man only known as K.K. This development, with the Elite however, was a bother, one that had Zero's bare shoulders slumped as he sat there, wearing only a pair of silken black pajamas. “...That's great.” He said dully, his voice as flat as it could possibly get. “I needed to know every possible person that Sasha and Oleksa could try and fuck me over with...And these names aren't exactly plausible as I see it.”

Just Four… CHBK, Christian Savior, Adam Riddick… and Kassie Khane.

Looking down at these names as he pulled his hand away from his face, he'd let those blue eyes absorb each one before he shook his head with a deep, drawn out sigh. “I mean, really...Savior has been humiliated by you at every turn so you know his tactics. Riddick is too busy pulling a false ‘I’m the nice guy on the ‘Edge of Reason’ after he did a Lindsey Lohan with his career to even think about wrestling and CHBK just got his face scrambled by Hudson at Retribution.” He paused, rubbing at his knitted brow for a few moments before continuing on. “I don't see how any of these guys could be challenging to you. Hell, for all I know, Savior went out and threw a shitload of money at someone like Oleksa to try and take the US belt off of Shilo...”

Exile didn't say a word after that as Zero mused over his thoughts aloud, instead opting to sip at his tea as he thought over it all. Exile might have looked and often acted like a petulant child, but he was wickedly intelligent and thoughtful. Sipping at his own tea for a few moments longer, he'd close his eyes in silent thought before opening them and looking to the former SCW Champion, gesturing with the coffee mug in his hand as he spoke. “..Savior might be a prick, but he'd never get the resources to pay off Oleksa OR Sasha. Although… Drachewych, both of em, blew a lot of money during the war with one another, Even if the board would let him have enough money to buy both of them off, they wouldn't let him buy his way into the US title.. or any other title for that matter. In SCW, allegiances count for everything, not cash. Drew Weillacher, or whatever his last name is… he is living proof of that in his association with the Inferior Infection.”

“Yes I see your point.”

Zero said with a dull groan as he looked over at Exile, his disdain hidden beneath a slightly playful smirk. While they had mended their relationship to a certain extent but there was still a certain tension. However, Exile didn't acknowledge it. Maybe it was all in Zero's head. Either way, it was ignored for the most part. Exile wasn't done speaking.

“...So then there's Kassie Khane. Ignoring the fact that she's been a ghost since you let her come back with your master plan, Kassie, in my opinion, is a liability because she’s also managing Riddick. I know you don’t trust him and for good reason. Without Kassie to link you two… Riddick would never get anywhere near a title shot if you could help it.” Nodding sagely, Exile would take another sip of his tea before leaning back against the door jamb, making himself comfortable. “Even if that weren't the case, Kassie is also not a business man... sorry business woman. Her sense is A poor one, but she isn't completely stupid. Just ruled by her heart, which is unfortunate for you, because you are not. Do you think she'd let the potential cash she could make off of you go out the window because it wasn't in her husband’s best interest? The same husband who abandoned her for two years? Poor business… but in my opinion, Zero… she is just waiting for that opprtunity.”

“Okay,” Zero began, turning to look back to Exile as he leaned up against the finely carved wooden backrest of the seat. “ so that leaves Oleksa. That son of a bitch and I have been at war since day one of SCW. I don’t think it is ever going to end…” His voice trailed off, pondering over it. Oleksa would've been a difficult adversary to have once, but the man had made a legacy in his war with CHBK and the Hero of Time. Could he take him on again? Probably. CHBK was a different question. The guy might have been a retired at one point, but he had gotten a fire under his ass. He had gone far, made himself a credible threat against Hudson and, despite how much he might have hated to admit it, posed a possible threat to Starr’s title reign. Could he beat him? He didn't doubt it, but he'd pay a price for it and there was always the possibility to getting caught.

“...I wouldn't count CHBK out of the list. He might be iffy, but he's made it clear that he wants to kill off the corrupted power base and, if Alex can't beat someone physically, he'll try to find any way around it he can. Remember, he threw me over a bridge in a car just to get me off of his ass once before...Do you doubt he'd do it again?” Exile offered a pointed look at Zero, raising his eyebrow as he did before taking yet another sip of his tea. There weren't many options in his mind when it came to THIS breakdown and my match. The problem wasn’t Drew. The problem was who Drew would bring with him.

Most of Oleksa's heavy hitters were taking part in matches that night, many of them rather brutal. From a pure business standpoint, he didn't have many people the crowd would aid him in a match against the Hero of Time.

“No...” Zero sighed out, his hand once again moving to pinch the bridge of his nose in thought and frustration. Alex, on the other hand, was an enigma to him. Sure, he could understand the man to a certain extent, but CHBK was still a questionable individual. He never seemed to make much sense to him. “...So that leaves Drew on his own, according to you. Why him, though? He's had no luck against Karnivale… so what makes him think he could take on a former SCW Champion?” Zero looked to him with questioning eyes as he sat there. He wasn't so much worried by this point, but he hated these kind of games that they were intent on playing. He wasn't stupid, but he didn't have the ability to analyze things quite like Exile could.

“Probably Oleksa and Sasha’s way to fuck with you. They know of the history with both you and CHBK and you and Infection, so they could possibly jump start a certain amount of animosity between everyone… should Drew come into the match and beat you. He's also a certified lap dog and someone you've never faced before-He has believability and a certain chance to beat you that someone like Kissinger or Savior don't.” Exile said matter of factly as he looked to Zero, his free hand rising to gently rub at the stubble upon his chin. “...I mean, CHBK is good and all. No disrespect to him at all, but you've faced him before and you know his style. Add in the potential fatigue from fighting a monster like Hudson and it'd be like forcing him on a death march. He wants something more out of you than just a win. Alex knows something. I can tell.”

Exile's words made sense to Zero. Drew, while no friend of his, wasn't someone he had directly faced off with before in some time. He had all the confidence in the world that he could take him on, but there was a certain amount of the unknown that came with facing him. He would be followed by help of some kind… but Zero was not fully concerned, because something had happened to Zero a while back. He had changed things quite a bit since he had put on the mask of Zero and subsequently removed it. Zero seemed stronger, more powerful, neigh invincible... Shaking his head of such thoughts, Zero would look to Exile for the moment, remaining silent for the time being as he watched the man.

'Oh man. Time for a pep talk...' Exile thought to himself as he watched Zero give him that look. It was a questioning one, almost child like in nature, that seemed to ask him what to do. Taking a moment to down the rest of his tea, he'd walk over to the man that he deemed to be his little brother and, after placing the empty mug in his hand on the table, reach up to fuss the messy brown hair upon Zero's head, making it look all the worse. “...Will, you've got all the talent in the world. I've been trying to beat that into your head for years and sometimes, despite how much you've grown, I can't help but think that you've got too many doubts. “

Scrunching his shoulders up, Zero looked like even more of a child as he attempted to get away from that taunting action. It was annoying, as he had told Exile many times, when he did stuff like that. Making a slight noise of annoyance, he'd lean back and away from that offending hand before shooting Exile a glare; something that made the man laugh a bit.

“...Ah, Black Cat.” He'd say with a shake of his head and a small grin as he backed away from his friend. “You're gonna be fine out there, no matter who they put you up against. Drew or an entire army of Olek’s followers. I know you've been going through a lot of lame shit back in SCW, but you're the champ in IWC, the real champ, and a legend of SCW for a reason; you kick ass. So don't let the bastards get you down. You're gonna whoop some ass and walk home with the IWC belt back in your possession legitimately, and after that? You're going to take Lady Poison out for some fine dining and...” He paused, shuddering for a moment. He still wasn't comfortable with the concept of Kassie Khane, for she had changed quite a bit since the return of Riddick. “...Make love to your beautiful Felicia. Then talk about the problems you have with Riddick to Kassie… or something like that.”

Zero couldn't help himself. He just had to laugh from the way that Exile reacted to his own mention of the Hero’s Manager. He knew that Ex didn't approve of her, but she was good for him and he loved her in a brother sister sort of way. He respected that, he knew that Exile did. Sighing lightly after having that good laugh, he'd sit back up in his chair proper before turning his eyes toward the suited man infront of him. “Yeah, you're right. You're right, Ex..” He said with a small smile, looking to him for a few moments longer before he glanced back down to the folders in front of him. Gazing at them for a second, he'd lick over his lips and nod a bit. He was right. He'd go out there and whoop some ass; he had no doubts about that in his mind at all. He'd do everything that he said he would. It was just who he was.

Watching Zero as he moved back to those folders he had brought him, Exile smiled slightly with a certain sense of pride. How bad off was Zero before Boss Bellos had gotten hold of him and showed him what was possible as opposed to what the original Infection had offered him? He had grown up and grown out of that shell he was once in. He felt almost like a father. Almost. “...I know I am, so you go ahead and get your mind right. I've got some other things to handle while I'm up here, but I promise I'll come see you after you're done taking down the phony Infection and getting back that title. You take care, alright?” He said as he began to back away, his eyes never once leaving Zero as he moved. Not until he had acknowledged him.

“Yeah, Ex. You too...” He said with a dull smile as he looked back over to him as he began to back out of the room. It wasn't because he was sad that his smile had lost it's luster, but because his mind was going else where. He was settling, sharpening and focusing. The world was becoming secondary as he began to let everything fall into place with his mind. He told Exile that he'd win, in so many words, and that meant he had a promise to keep. He had to beat whomever they threw in front of him, Drew or otherwise, whoever they thought could take Zero down a peg. All he had to do was believe in it, to whole heartedly believe in it. And if he did, nothing could stop him.

Nothing in the world.

==============================================

[Darkness. The camera always started off in darkness. Within moments though, light began to filter through the darkness and, in a few moments, replace it with light. The light revealed a rather simple scene, the kind that anyone would encounter on a daily basis; a simple room. White walls, simple but sparse decoration in the form of various paintings and sculptures and some minor furniture. It was all rather expensive looking, upscale and far out of reach for the average household. However, the occupant of that room was not your average man. No, the occupant of the room was the TRUE IWC World Heavyweight Champion, a man known the world over as Zero. A small, almost shy smile rested upon Zero's lips as he sat there, dressed to kill in his blackened Valentino suit. His over coat was left undone, revealing the white button up undershirt that covered his torso, as well as the black silk tie which hung from around his throat, tied up in a perfect Windsor knot. Gold and onyx cufflinks hung from his suit, while a simple white rose laid pinned to his lapel. Perhaps he was trying to look a bit like Frank Sinatra or maybe he was just going for a different look. One thing was certain though; for all of those expensive clothes and well placed accessories, the most important one laid over his lap-Gold. The leather and Gold strap known as the IWC World Heavyweight Title… the one he had gotten back the past night on Riot! It lay gently along his stomach, unfastened with the straps tucked behind that large face plate. Leaned back and comfortable within the leather comforts of a couch, Zero simply gazed at the camera for a few long moments before speaking carefully.]

Zero: So, here we are...After weeks of being dicked around. After weeks of being taunted and toyed with, here we are. Breakdown after Retribution and suddenly ALL the power cards are in my hand. The show… A stacked card, so many battles that are going to take place...but there is one battle we know nothing about. One match actually not on the card, placed high above all the others, that we don't have word one about. The match...

[As he spoke, his right hand would rise up from his side and drape itself lazily along the top of the title leaned up against his waist. It is not the belt he means though but a piece of paper.]

Zero: ...For this. The most important thing in the company, the one thing that everyone in that locker room is dying to hold; not the World Heavyweight Championship of either IWC or SCW. No… this is a battle for power! TRUE POWER! Say what you want and say what you will, but if anyone in the back tells you that they don't want this; they're either a liar, stupid or Greg Cherry and his Infection cronies.


[Shifting in his seat, Zero's face would take on a more serious nature as he leaned forward slightly, the hand that was raising up from his title to point at the camera directly in an address to the entire roster.]

Zero: I'm worried about you.

[His gaze remained fixed upon the camera for a few moments, his face etched in seriousness as he leaned back into the couch to get comfortable again. His hand resumed resting atop of the belt and shoulders slumped slightly, relaxed but still filled with a certain unspoken tension.]

Zero: Now, don't get me wrong. On the whole, I know I could probably beat the grand majority of you with about as much effort as it takes someone like Hurse to 'act' crazy, but still...You're all wild cards. Each and every single last one of you have the potential to ruin this night for me… when I make my biggest move in the history of SCW. Be it Drew or Savior, to Adam Riddick to the bald bastard himself, bloody Father Christmas. Anyone, everyone! It could be someone who was fired months ago for all I know, or the newest damn signing on the block! I don't know...But don't think that makes me worried.

[Licking over his lips lightly, his face would take on a less serious lilt as he gazed upon the camera. He was relaxing more and more as time went on, finding himself in his element once again.]

Zero: You see, maybe you all don't realize it and maybe Sasha and Olek don't realize it either, but you don't get to where I am by being worried. You don't get to where I am fearing the unknown and the unexpected. Each and every day you pass through those halls in the back of the arena or make the longest walk of your life to the squared circle, you face it. You know it well...So really, you two try to scare me with this whole facing Drew on my own thing? You try to make me nervous with the imminent threat of another Infection beatdown? You try to take me off of my game?

[Leaning forward, the look on Zero's face was almost goofy as he donned the goofiest, cheesiest grin imaginable, one that makes his Cheshire Cat grin actually seem cool.]

Zero: ...Hah.

[Outright laughing, the Hero would lean back into the couch once more, kicking a single leg up over the opposite knee as he got cozy. Going so far as to hike the belt up onto his shoulder, he'd slap that Gold lightly before continuing on, grinning weakly.]

Zero: There's nothing you two can do to me, nothing that you two can throw at me, that's going to take me off my game. I don't care what it is, be it a match against the entire DAMN ROSTER, gauntlet style, or facing off against that beautiful, luscious, tempting, sensuous Syren…. The SCW Women’s Champion.

[Pausing, Zero looked away to suppress a laugh.]

William: Sorry, Syren Babe. Just kidding. Really...BUT THE POINT REMAINS! You two can do anything you want to try and fuck me out of my night where I change the landscape of SCW. You just can't do it. I don't care what you do, I'm just too damn good. Try me. Please, try me. I dare ya...Come on...

[Grinning all the more, Zero would beckon toward the camera a hand, waving on some unseen competitor with a hand for a few seconds before finally waving it off with a chuckle.]

Zero: ...See? I'm calm, I'm relaxed. I'm in the best shape of my life, physically and mentally. I'm ready for the games and the tricks, Olek. I'm even ready for Savior to come up and offer me a hummer in order to lay down for him to become the new IWC champ...You two can try anything you want, money or anything. This belt is staying with me, and Breakdown is going to belong time. It's the night where SCW joins her sister, IWC, in state… pure Chaos! ...and that's a fact.

[Smiling, the Hero would lean back into the couch for a moment, his head leaning back into the cushion for the sake of rest. A few seconds later though, he'd pull his head off of the couch and glance to the camera, looking nonplussed by it all as he spoke one final time.]

Zero: Prove me wrong...I'm beggin' ya.

[And with one more grin and a self-assured chuckle, Zero let his head fall back into the leather. That belt, it looked so perfect upon his shoulder. So perfect and comfy. No one was going to take it from Zero nor would they take his night away, not without a good deal of trickery and hijinks. But Zero was ready and willing to play the game, knowing full well that he could fend it all off. Could he though? Could someone take the night from him? It was a question that would have to be answered at a later time as the camera faded to black, leaving the true champion with that grin still etched upon his face in a knowing manner and that gold, glimmering lightly in the light before all became darkness once again.]
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