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Devon Kayl vs. Orlando Cruze
Topic Started: Jun 24 2013, 05:51 PM (114 Views)
Mr. D
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The SCW Owner and Leader of the Nation of Moderation
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Devon Kayl vs. Orlando Cruze

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Deadline: Noon EST July 4, 2013
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WINDS OF CHANGE – CHAPTER SEVEN

DYLAN MOSS APARTMENT
NEW YORK CITY

Orlando stands and gets to his feet, looking down at the prone body of Dylan Moss, the guy he had just allowed to die in front of him. His emotions are running rampant, a mixture of shock and elation mixing in his already confused mind. He looks down at his phone, 911 still staring at him, his thumb still hovering over the call button. His head goes to his mouth, and he licks his lips to allow some moisture to them, the dryness making them sore. Finally he presses the button, puts the phone on speaker and places it on the desk, allowing it to ring out.

Operator: 911 how can I assist you?”

Orlando: Err, ambulance please, my friend…I think he’s had an heart attack

Orlando goes into a trance, answering questions without even thinking about his answers. The rest of the conversation is a blur, his mind wandering elsewhere, to his family, the ones he had left behind. A picture forms in his mind of a happier time, a time before all of ‘this’ when life was so much simpler. But he comes crashing back to earth with a bang, as the realisation hits home again of what he had done in allowing a man to die.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

Orlando watches as Moss is loaded onto a stretcher, his face covered over and then carried out of the apartment building. He’d not said a word when the paramedics had arrived, only to point out where the body was, and to answer some simple questions. He’d watched as they had tried to bring him back, a pointless exercise he knew, but he had still held out some hope that just maybe Moss would wake to end this nightmare. When he didn’t it wasn’t a surprise, and as if to confirm his confused state, he had actually felt relief there too, that this ‘benefactor’ that had come along and placed him right in the middle of a gang war was now gone, though he did realise that this left everything up in the air. Again he tries to process everything going on, and doesn’t even see the badge thrust into his face until he feels a hand rest on his shoulder

“Sir?”

Orlando shakes from his trance and turns his head to face a guy in a light tan suit, stubble purposely grown on his chiselled face. Having got Orlando’s attention he goes on.

“I’m Detective Moorcroft, this is Officer Springer, and we’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind…purely routine you understand?”

Orlando: Yeah, err of course, how can I help you?

Orlando had been in situations such as this before, and knew that at the moment all the cops were doing was do their job, but he also knew that if he wasn’t careful and showed any sign of suspicion, what was a simple heart attack could turn into something a great deal worse

Moorcroft: Normally, we wouldn’t be here, but Dylan Moss is someone that has been well known to us for a long time. He has a lot of enemies, people that will be rejoicing that he is dead, so we need to make sure this is just a simple heart attack

Orlando: I understand that

Moorcroft: Good, how did you know the deceased?

Orlando: We go way back to when I was starting out in the business, he wanted to take me under his wing, be my manager if you like

Moorcroft: This is wrestling right?

The officer gives a little bit of a laugh, but a stern glare from Moorcroft shuts him up

Moorcroft: Sorry Sir...if you could continue?

Orlando: Yeah, PROFESSIONAL wrestling. When I was just starting out I decided against taking up a contract with Dylan and went with a different manager. In fact it’s only recently we have gotten back in touch

Moorcroft: Any reason for that?

Orlando: I’ve been going through a rough time, Dylan was putting me back together I guess, and putting me back in the business

Moorcroft: OK, but you were aware of the other side to him right?

Orlando: Of course, I know he wasn’t a good guy by any stretch of the imagination. You only have to look at the way people stare at him, or cross the street to avoid him to see that.

Moorcroft: But you still hung around?

Orlando: I was desperate Detective. The fact was I didn’t have anyone else to turn to, family & friends, I basically ostracised them all and saw Dylan as my only hope. He got me back into the SCW; he put me back on my feet.

Moorcroft pauses for a moment, and Orlando notices this pause, wondering if he was getting in any way suspicious of him. He quickly dispels the thought to the back of his mind; the last thing he needed to do right now was get paranoid. He is thankful however that the pause is broken.

Moorcroft: So, explain to me what happened prior to Mr Moss collapsing? Did he look unwell?

Orlando: Dylan has been under a lot of stress recently, he owes money in various places, don’t know the details but know he was waiting for his share from my signing fee. He was sweating a lot before; his speech was a little slurred…like he’d been drinking a lot.

Moorcroft: I see, so would you say he was ill then?

Orlando: Possibly…well, obviously

Moorcroft: OK, and have you noticed anything out of the ordinary in your day to day dealings with Mr Moss that would lead you to think that someone would have done this to him. Has he been paid any visits by anyone, any threats to his well-being?

Orlando: Nothing that I have seen no…like I said, he was stressed, but I didn’t think he would keel over

Moorcroft: Before he collapsed, what happened then?

Orlando: What do you mean?

Moorcroft: I mean was he just sat there, was you talking about anything?

Orlando: No, I stood up to leave, he did the same and the next minute he was down on the floor.

Moorcroft: And you called 911 straight away?

Orlando: Once I had tried to resuscitate him myself yes

Moorcroft: You tried to bring him round?

Orlando: Of course…you learn a few things in my business, thought I could help

Moorcroft: OK, I think that’s about it…I don’t think there is much more to say about this really. Officer?

The officer shakes his head

Moorcroft: Oh, one more thing…has you ever heard of a Glyn Slater?

It was a question Orlando wasn’t expecting, and he knew it was an answer he would have to give truthfully. It could have been a trick, and he already might have been seen with Slater.

Orlando: Yeah, I know Glyn, he and Dylan are sworn enemies

Moorcroft: Do you think this could be anything to do with him?

It was a strange question to ask, and Orlando says the first thing that comes into his mind.

Orlando: I don’t know, you’re the Detective

Moorcroft: Indeed I am, just taking in all possibilities. Nothing else to say here, I’d say that Dylan’s lifestyle eventually got the better of him before Slater could. Thank you for your time Mr Cruze.

Orlando: Welcome, and if you need anything else

Moorcroft: I’ll be sure to get in touch…we’ll see ourselves out.

Orlando watches as the officers leave, and opens the drawer to the desk, pulling out Dylan’s whiskey and placing the bottle on the table. He pushes a glass in front of him and unscrews the lid

Orlando: May as well, he won’t need it.

He pours himself a glass and raises it, surprising himself with the callous nature of the gesture. He did feel guilt, and he knew it would fester inside for years to come, but what was a little more on top of everything else he was feeling right now. He had to keep telling himself that Dylan had deserved his demise simply for what he had tried to do to Kloe, and that the world was a better place without him. But somehow he didn’t think Slater would share the same opinion, and would now want to know how he would get his money back. Orlando knew that wasn’t good news for him, and had come to realise that Dylan’s death would come with its fair share of consequences.

GLYN SLATERS OFFICE
TWENTY FOUR HOURS LATER

Finch swallows hard, and knocks on the door, pausing until he is told he can come in. It was a unwritten rule of the office that if the door was closed, it was that way for a reason and you never ever walked in without being told to. Finch had a lot more latitude than most in the office, due to his acceptance into Slater’s inner circle, but he also knew what would happen if he didn’t follow the code. Slater’s holler’s a ‘come in’ and Finch opens the door, striding into the office and sitting in the chair he is offered. Slater doesn’t look up from his lap top, and finishes the sentence he is on, before saving the document and turning to his associate

Slater: Sorry about that Finch, what can I do for you?

Finch: Well, heard a rumour doing the rounds boss, and done a little digging and had it confirmed

Slater: Sounds interesting

Finch: Don’t think you are going to like it

Slater: OK, well spit it out then, it has to be important if you’ll come knocking on my door

Finch: It’s about Dylan Moss

Slater: Ah, my good friend Dylan, has he been up to his old tricks again? What scam is he trying now to pay of his debts to me?

Finch: I’m afraid it isn’t a scam boss…he’s dead

Slater scowls, and for a moment it doesn’t look like he believes Finch, and is about to have a go at him for this ‘joke’. But Slater studies his eyes, and sees no sign of humour only seriousness in his colleagues face, and that’s when the realisation that it is true begins to sink in

Slater: How? Was he taken out by someone, one of his many enemies?

Finch: No, apparently it’s nothing sinister…heart attack

Slater: Heart attack huh? No doubt the cops will be trying to pin it on me

Finch: No, apparently then had a witness who was there at the time

Slater: Really…who was…?

Even as he begins to say the sentence he realises what the answer is going to be.

Slater: Cruze yeah…Cruze was there when all of this happened

Finch: It seems so boss, our guy on the force reckons Orlando tried to save him but he was long gone. Just waiting on the autopsy to confirm all the details, but NYPD are not treating it as suspicious

Slater nods his head, knowing that if it was in anyway suspicious he would have been paid a visit long before now.

Slater: Good, at least that’s something

Finch: You sound disappointed.

Slater gives a wry smile, and reaches in his desk searching for a particular document and pulling it out, placing it on the desk.

Slater: Yeah, I guess I am Finch, I just always thought that I would be the one who brought his life to an end. Feel like I’ve been cheated, and that’s not to mention the money he owes me that I will now have to write off.

He flicks through the document, turning to a particular page and scanning through the fine print shaking his head

Finch: Something else?

Slater: It’s what I thought, Cruze’s earnings from SCW

Finch: What about them?

Slater: My contract is with Moss, not with Cruze, the contract only states that I am due a percentage of Dylan’s share…

Finch: Not Orlando’s?

Slater: That’s right…so as of right now I have no legal claim to any monies earned by him…FUCK.

The emphatic nature of the expletive made it clear that he wasn’t happy and indeed he wasn’t. He curses himself for his stupidity when putting the contract together, but his attention very quickly turns to what he is going to do about it

Slater: Guess there is only one thing left to do then

Finch: What’s that?

Slater: Go and fetch me Cruze please Finch…I think Orlando and I need to have a little chat

Finch smiles, as for a moment his thought his boss was going to accept defeat on this one, when it was now clear that wasn’t going to be the case. He stands, heading to the door before turning…

Finch: And if he won’t come?

Slater just laughs, placing the document back in the drawer.

Slater: Then you make him

Finch nods, and exits the room, leaving Slater to think about his next move. Orlando had grown stronger, his resolve would need to be broken if he was to get his way.

NEWQUAY
ENGLAND

Kloe sits on the edge of the bed, four bin liners of Orlando’s clothes in front of her. She had spent the last half an hour going through his things, most of it going to charity; the rest would find its way into the rubbish. She’d meant to do it a long time ago, but for some reason had never had the closure she had now got, and so she had put it off, still believing that one day he would return. But she didn’t think that any longer, she knew that the man she had loved, the man she had married and had children with, was now long gone. It had taken a lot of heart ache and realisation to get to this point, but she was glad that she finally was. She at least now felt like a weight had been lifted, and could now attempt to rebuild her families shattered life.

Her thoughts turn to Shaun, the brother who had steadfastly stood by Orlando through everything, and even now would offer him a second chance if there was indeed any hope. Shaun if anything had been even more devastated than she was, and was struggling to come to terms with what had happened over the last six months, a six months that should have been the happiest of his life. She’d looked into his eyes this morning whilst asking him if he was ok, and she could clearly see the sadness within them, a disbelief that he had to let go of the brother who he adored. Only his new born children were keeping him afloat now, and she knew the decision he had made to return to SCW was the wrong one but that his mind was already made up. Orlando would just take the opportunity to further hurt his sibling and without any remorse. And right now that was the last thing that Shaun needed.

“Mum?”

Kloe snaps from her trance, her gaze moving from the bags to her son Owen who was stood in the doorway. He was getting so tall, much taller than most of the children in his year, and also above average for what a nine year old boy should be. He was growing into the boy that Kloe and Orlando had always hoped he would, a young son that parents should be proud of, even with the trials and tribulations being a Cruze brought.

Kloe: Owen, you startled me I thought you were still at Football practice.

Owen: Sorry, Pixie just dropped me off now

Kloe: Did she not come in?

Owen: No, she said to tell you she will see you tomorrow. She wanted to get back to Uncle Shaun

That made sense because she was worried what Shaun might do if she let him out of her sight for too long. He’d already disappeared to America once before without her knowing, and she didn’t want a repeat performance. She knew if she was by his side, she could strengthen his resolve if ever he showed signs of weakness.

Kloe: OK fair enough, I’m finished here so I’m guessing you’d like something to eat?

Owen: What’s that Mum?

His eyes dart to the bags, as do Kloe’s and immediately she knows what he is referring to. As well as Orlando’s height, Owen had also inherited his perception, and not much went past without Owen noticing it.

Kloe: Just stuff for charity Owen, a few clothes that’s all

Owen: There Dad’s aren’t they?

Kloe is caught by surprise and finds herself nodding her head

Owen: You can tell me these things you know Mum, I’ll be ok and I’ll understand

It was like she was listening to a grown man, and not a nine year old boy, but in that moment she felt prouder than ever.

Owen: He’s not ever coming home is he Mum?

Kloe pats the bed and Owen sits down beside her

Kloe: I don’t think so Owen. Your Dad has changed, he isn’t the man he once was, and I don’t think he ever will be again

Owen: Do you think I’ll ever see him again?

Kloe: I honestly don’t know Owen

Owen lowers his head, obviously upset

Kloe: In his own strange way Owen, he does love you. He just believes that by staying away he is giving you a better chance at a good life

Owen: He’s wrong

Kloe: I know, but when your Father makes up his mind about something there is no changing it…not ever.

Owen: Do you still love him?

It was the most obvious question ever, but it was still one that Kloe was unprepared for. Her response surprised her ever more

Kloe: I do Owen, and I always will, but I’m afraid it doesn’t matter anymore

Again Owen lowers his head, sliding off the bed and heading towards the door. As he reaches the doorway he turns around

Owen: We will be ok won’t we Mummy?

Kloe: Better than ever Owen, you’ll see.

Owen forces a smiles and heads into his room, leaving Kloe alone once more. Nothing was going to stop her from giving her family the life they deserved, and Orlando’s cowardice wasn’t going to stop that. She knew that she now had to become both parents, and give Owen the support he would obviously need, and she was ready to do that.

RECORDING…

Orlando sits cross legged on the floor, behind him an idyllic scene, trees, grass & fields, the whole works. You’d expect him to be angry, or at least just a little annoyed, but beneath his sunglasses his eyes do not betray him, his smile is as truthful as it can be. No Orlando Cruze isn’t angry in the slightest; he is happy, happy that finally the whole SCW world knows precisely what he always did.

“It’s been a while since I had to some airtime, a chance to speak to you people, seems the SCW and Olek will do everything in their power to keep me off the television screens. Don’t blame them after the travesty that was Taking Hold of the Flame, but you would have thought they would be a little more subtle. Because if I listened carefully enough I could hear them, the mocking voices of the ‘SCW’ claiming to have won some kind of moral victory at the PPV. Claiming that the IWC had fallen short on its promises, claiming that the ‘rebirth’ of the IWC had been stopped in its tracks before it had even gained any sort of momentum. More importantly, claiming that the IWC had been wrong. That was what the ignorant have been saying over the last few weeks, and shouting it from the rooftops. Simply because whether they would ever admit it or not, they were scared at Taking Hold of the Flame, because they thought it would happen.

The ones who stayed quiet, who didn’t put their heads above the parapet, they BELIEVED that just maybe Hurse, Porno and I would head into Rise to Greatness with a shot at the world championship. So right now they are RELIEVED that it didn’t come to pass and all is now right in the world, the SCW getting its rightful challenger in the shape of Shilo Valiant. But Ladies and Gentleman, or those beliefs have proven is just like I stated, they cannot see what is happening so clearly in front of their nose. They see what they CHOOSE to see, and not the facts that are laid out before them. But like the fans of this company, they accept the mediocrity that the SCW brings, and they choose not to see what the future will bring. But as always there is another option, a CHOICE if you will, because rather than the way it has been spelt out to you just moments earlier, the true facts of what happened at the PPV I will furnish you with now, because although we didn’t win, and their ‘prestigious’ world title will now be competed for by a woman who wears too much make up who will face up against Syren, what we achieved will actually have a more long lasting effect on the future of SCW.

My point, well it’s easily proven where can I start? Hurse and I both finishing in the top five would be a fair indication of what we achieved, considering the odds where solidly against us. It started 27 against 3, and yet still when it came down to it, Hurse and I were still fighting for our lives. In the end it was still three against two, and how was I eliminated, at the hands of a fluke and a chair, not by someone having the back bone to throw me over the ropes.

Take a look at the match itself, a match that saw me spend a lot of it facing off against one of the ‘favourites’ Thirteen, someone else that I outlasted to go besides the likes of Josh Hudson and Blitzkrieg who is was thought would be there till the bitter end. All you that claim we lost you’re forgetting the purpose, which was to prove a point. Will Cole, NME, Bell and Scrappy claim that we are jokers now seeing as they were eliminated by my hand? Does Aiken realise that I’m just a little more intelligent than he gave me credit for, as I told him quite categorically his ‘client’ couldn’t win, because there would be a point when the SCW decided it would be best for all if he was taken out of the match. I could go on, predictions I made, corrections on peoples assumptions of victory. And as I clearly quoted, twenty six individuals left disappointed after claiming they would do something that they clearly were unlikely to

And that’s always going to be my point SCW, until you wake up, you are going to accept this shit as if it is real, when the sad fact of the matter is these ‘heroes’ of yours cannot stack up to the golden era when even the newcomers could probably outwrestle seventy five percent of this roster. I’m not going to say it’s all bad, because there are those that could hold their head high in the new IWC we are promising, the likes of those who spent time in the last five with myself and Hurse for example. There is talent here, and they are the ones that need to realise they are being wasted by Olek and his staff. Don’t think for one second not winning the Battle Royal is the end of us, because you’re going to find with the IWC there is always a Plan A,B,C,D and as many as we need, and not winning at the PPV doesn’t break us, it just makes the resolve a lot stronger. So we won’t compete for the World Heavyweight Title at Rise to Greatness, that’s fair enough we didn’t achieve that particular victory, but the Heavyweight title is not the only belt to be prefixed with the word world is it? And the SCW World title will never mean the same as the IWC version I claimed so easily from my brother…will it? Oh yeah, where is my brother now anyways? That’s right, vanquished back home to look after his screaming brats because that’s all he is capable of being…ordinary”

He stands, feeling the warmth of the grass on his bare feet. He puts his arms out, motioning at the scene around him.

“Beautiful isn’t it, extraordinary even…that is the level to which my brother could never reach. He was supposed to take the Cruze name to new heights, he was supposed to keep the legacy alive, yet time and time again he has blackened my name, and yet I am the one supposedly at fault. He wasn’t supposed to be ordinary; he wasn’t supposed to lose to the likes of Katie Steward. He was supposed to be the continuation of all that I had achieved, and yet here I am, having to come back to repair my tarnished image…my brothers current situation is not my fault, it’s his, and totally his doing. He allowed the lower expectations of this company to stop his development, and he aspired to nothing more than adequate. Just like my opponent on Supreme Saturday Devon Kayl”

He says the words with distain…another arrogant piece of shit with his eyes on merely one prize.

“First of all Devon, I want to break the ice with you for just a second and say, with total respect of course, that the mere presence of you on SCW, the whole Kayl.TV gimmick you are making us endure, simply makes you the poster child for everything that is wrong with the SCW. You’re just another example of the ego that plagues this place from top to bottom, and another pointless exercise for me to have to undertake. How many times have I now heard those words, I will be the world champion, come from the mouths of people that simply are not good enough to carry a world championship belt, not even the SCW version, the mere fact that you believe that you are anywhere near that level is nothing short of ludicrous. I’ll admit, you are a fairly capable wrestler, better than some, but not as good as others. But believe me, if I was sat at home, listen to you try and justify your existence here, if I didn’t have to face you on Saturday, I would have cracked a rib by now, because that my friend is how hilarious you are. But it’s time to put your finger on your lips and hush it up a little now, because Orlando’s addressing you, and quite frankly Kayl, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about that you have to say. Let’s just get one thing straight right Kayl, you will never be the SCW World Heavyweight Champion, and there are many reasons why that is. You don’t have the drive, you don’t have the courage, but more than anything you do not truly believe the words that come out of your mouth

See, you like to believe that you are more intelligent than the rest of us, that you have the whole situation sussed. We were supposed to buy into the fact that prior to Taking Hold of the Flame, you were just taking time out, to gain some kind of advantage prior to the event so that you could make good on all those promises. And that’s all well and good, or at least it would be if that was the way things panned out, yet even entering at number thirty, even after being the freshest person in the entire match, you still only just managed to squeak into the top ten. Even with the advantage, your words, of being fresh, even coming in at number thirty, you still couldn’t get the job done. And the guy with two surgeries, who entered over twenty minutes previously, still managed to go further than you could manage. That doesn’t make you look intelligent Kayl that makes you look as stupid as the rest of the SCW reprobates that can’t see the wood for the trees. You want titles, I’m here simply as a means to an end, in preparation for the bigger picture. I can assure you this Devon; it won’t be you that gets what they want, not this time”

No one knew what Orlando wanted, they were all too eager to assume that he just wanted the demise of the SCW. They were close to the truth no doubt, but the reveal would be far more shocking than a simple takeover of SCW. At the moment the IWC was just playing, knowing that at Rise to Greatness no one in the SCW was prepared for the events that were scheduled to happen. The culmination of a chain of events leading to only one possible conclusion

“Kayl, if I don’t do anything else I want you to realise one thing, nothing you have done in the past is going to prepare you for the shit storm that is brewing. You want an exclusive for Kayl.TV, you need to listen very carefully to my final words, because if you haven’t understood me before, this will be the moment I leave you in little doubt. On Supreme Saturday, I don’t step into the ring with Devon Kayl looking to defeat you because it will get me one step closer to the World title. I step into the ring because it gives me the opportunity to drive yet another nail into this godforsaken company’s coffin, whilst getting just that little bit nearer to the epic conclusion. So regale me with your retort, amaze me with your perceived intelligence, then dwell on the realization, that yet again the Independent Wrestling Cartel will be, and has always been one step ahead of Supreme Championship Wrestling. And I, just like many of your peers, will always be one step ahead of you. There is no way you are going to come out of this looking anything other than second best, deal with that now, prepare yourself for the worst, and perhaps that overinflated ego of yours won’t be totally deflated.”

With that Orlando stands his back to the camera as it starts to fade

“Don’t and maybe you’ll take another ‘rest’ huh? And perhaps this time do us the favour of never returning”

END
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Silence! I keel you!
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The Scene: The gallery from what appears to be a press conference. Tensions are in the air as the reporters, kept in the dark about the purpose of this presser, are left to consider what this entire conference was about. And, with nerves building, not a single reporter shuffles even a half-step out of place for fear of causing the tension to shatter and all the frustrations to come to a head. It was somewhere during this stretch of time that Devon Kayl slipped into the room, making his way to the table at the front of the room and taking his seat - front and centre. As he sits back, arms behind his head and feet propped up on the desk in front of him, he clears his throat...

Kayl: Ahem.

...to no reaction. With a grin on his face, Kayl starts tapping the heel of his shoe on the table repeatedly. One by one, the reporters let the tension seep out of their bodies as they turn to face the front of the room. Devon Kayl, the centre of attention, grins.

Kayl: Now that is a little more like it.

There isn't a murmur to be heard throughout the room as all eyes fix on the former purveyor of Kayl TV. He sits back, a smirk on his face, as he looks off to the side of the stage. Someone rushes him a bottle of water, which he takes and opens, taking a swallow without so much as shifting his position.

Kayl: What… have you guys never done a presser before? I sit here… you ask me questions… and I give you valuable recordings. It’s not hard, people.

With a bit of hesitations, one of the reporters musters up a little bit of courage and raises her hand. Kayl spots her and points her out.

Kayl: See… finally, someone with some balls.

He looks to the woman, who appears moderately offended.

Kayl: No offense. What do you want to know?

Reporter 1: I… um… I want to know about your last match on Breakdown a few weeks ago against Simon Lym…

Kayl immediately starts to talk, cutting the reporter off.

Kayl: I actually wanted to correct you here… my last match was against Christian Savior.

Reporter 1: With all due respect, sir… that match never sta…

Again, he cuts her off.

Kayl: Yes… while that match never started, who’s fault was that? Not mine. I was luring Savior into a state of false bravado before I was going to lash out and absolutely dominate him when Thirteen interfered and attacked him instead. The fact that the match never started is entirely on Savior, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes me the winner by forfeit. But since you were asking about the match with Lyman…

Kayl takes a drink first.

Kayl: I beat him. It’s just that simple. My head was in the game and even though I “only” picked up a countout victory, the fact is in my past two matches, I defeated former World Champions. If that isn’t a sense of my future… I don’t know what is.

Another reporter steps up to the microphone.

Reporter 2: Well, what about what happened at Taking Hold of the Flame?

Kayl swallows.

Kayl: I don’t want to talk about it.

Reporter 2: Well, I think you can agree that you had a decided advantage in…

Kayl: That was the night that my career could have ended. You saw the way I was dangling from the ropes… if I slipped out, I could have landed square on my head. I could have broken my neck and been the latest great wrestling tragedy… all of this potential lost… confined to a wheelchair… because of the way Hurse decided to pull at my arm. Now, I’m a tough son of a bitch, and I’m damn lucky I landed the way I did.

Kayl sniffles a bit, shaking his head.

Kayl: Next question… next question…

A third reporter steps to the forefront.

Repoter 3: After Ta…

He looks at Kayl, who is already returning a cross expression.

Reporter 3: Uh… the event which shall not be named… you dissolved Kayl TV. Why?

Kayl chuckles a bit, taking another swill of water.

Kayl: Because I had ridden that horse as far as she was going to go. I made Kayl TV great. I made great TV… but the fact is people didn’t appreciate great TV. No, they wanted bland. Expected. I wasn’t going to get ahead by holding on to that albatross around my neck.

He shakes his head.

Kayl: No… I didn’t need Kayl TV. That was something I did for the people. And thinking about doing things for the people means I’m not thinking about advancing my own career. If I’m not advancing my own career, I’m stuck in neutral, not becoming World Champion. It’s just that simple.

Reporter 4: On Breakdown, you confronted Marina Trent…

Kayl: I did. I don’t think she should be United States Champion. I think she was cherry-picked into an opportunity that at least half a dozen others responded to before she did on Twitter, and was parachuted in and virtually handed the US title. I don’t respect that.

He shrugs.

Kayl: Am I saying I should be US Champion? Sure. I tend to make divisions worthwhile. Ask anyone who was in the Adrenaline division while I was Champion, and they’ll tell you a story of the greatest Adrenaline Champion of all time. No question. I could easily revolutionize the United States Championship for SCW… but…

Kayl chuckles again, pointing to his temple. Another reporter stands in place.

Reporter 5: Do you have any comment to make on your upcoming match against Orlando Cruze?

A Cheshire smile comes onto his face.

Kayl: I was waiting for that question…

He pulls his feet down off the table and sits forward.

Kayl: I know people malign the idea of taking 20 minutes to say something they could say in 2… so I’m going to put this out there: I will win the IWC World Championship at Supreme Saturday.

Smiling, Kayl sits back. Another reporter rises.

Reporter 6: The Championship isn’t on the line, and besides… it’s unsanctioned in SCW.

Kayl: And look at all the fucks I give! Either that Championship is on the line, or I’m not wrestling the match.

Reporter 7: What’s in it for Orlando Cruze to defend the Championship against you?

Kayl: That one’s easy… he wants to prove IWC is superior to SCW, despite the fact that it was defunct for a couple of years while SCW continues to run… he wants to prove that he’s better than SCW’s best. Well, I am SCW’s best. He should want to prove himself and his company by defeating me… and how can he defeat me if I’m not willing to lock horns with him? Ultimately, it all comes down to that belt he carries. If he wants to prove he’s better than me, he’ll put the belt on the line with a smile on his face.

Reporter 8: That still doesn’t give SCW any motivation to allow that match to take place.

Kayl chuckles, standing up.

Kayl: Irrelevant. You know what’s going to happen though? I’ll put aside my logic hat for a moment and put on my James Bond villain toque. I’m facing Orlando Cruze at Supreme Saturday. I will defeat him. I will claim the IWC World Championship belt as my own. And once I have it, I’m carrying that belt to Rise to Greatness X… where I will hand it to whomever SCW wants me to hand it to… in exchange for a shot at the SCW World Championship at Apocalypse. Then, it doesn’t matter if it’s Syren or Shilo who stands atop SCW as its Champion and it’s albatross… because I will defeat them and take the SCW Championship for my own. My destiny will not be denied!

He moves to walk out of the room, stopping momentarily…

Kayl: Oh… this press conference is now over. Remember this conversation on Sunday after I win the IWC Championship not for SCW… but for Devon Kayl.

Without another word, and with pronounced purpose, Devon exits the scene. We go to black…
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