Post by Staff on Jan 22, 2017 13:52:10 GMT -5
Previously
on
A series of intercut scenes from every Massacre so far to situate us in the story....
on
A series of intercut scenes from every Massacre so far to situate us in the story....
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: You probably lost the Resilience Championship like you did that Monarchy belt, too, didn't you?
Thirteen is near tears.
THIRTEEN: No, no, no! None of this was supposed to happen, I--
The sound of the crowd is still fresh in the Armory and Sports Complex as Zack Fantana storms through the backstage curtain, past the gorilla position and into the backstage area still carrying his empty briefcase with a solid look of angry, disappointment on his face. All eyes turn to see Zack who eyes each of them accusingly. Thirteen hides her eyes through locks of hair and pretends not notice, Francis 'hmphs' smugly.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I'll show you how it's done.
He approaches Zack.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Champ, I'm sorry for that debacle out there. It's obviously some kind of mixup. But here...
Francis offers Zack a cardboard cutout of the resilience title to Zack. Zack glares at it before looking back at Francis.
ZACK FANTANA: This is a cartoon.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: No! No, it's not a cartoon! It's like one of those oversized novelty checks lotteries hand out in place of the real prize.
Zack doesn't find this amusing.
ZACK FANTANA: Where's the real prize?
Francis stares at Zack like he were cornered without some savvy way of escape. A beat of Francis contemplating before,
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: ... Thirteen, do you want to handle this?
Thirteen is speechless in the face of Zack's annoyance. Rodney P, Francis' assistant, who has been standing there the whole time, steps forward.
RODNEY P: Look, Zack? I don't think anyone is quite certain WHERE the Resilience title is at the moment, but I assure you we have every intention of finding that out. Okay? You won your match, your name is still solidified as the champion regardless of an inability to actually hold the strap for yourself. We'll figure this out, okay?
ZACK FANTANA: Yeah...
Angry yet placated, for now, Zack storms off still clutching his empty attache case, leaving those in charge to look after him in dismay. A beat...
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: So, seriously does anyone know what happened to that belt?
NATE HOLLIS: You said it, '9000. Perhaps by the time the rumble concludes, cross your fingers, management will finally have discovered the whereabouts of the MISSING Resilience Championship Belt!
HAL 9000: Perhaps someone stole it, Nathan?
NATE HOLLIS: That's what the suspicion is, my main central computer system pal. At the end of Massacre 1, after it was discovered the case previously thought to contain the Resilience belt did not, in fact, contain the belt, it was observed by AWE's own seer of seers Kassandrah that perhaps the belt was stolen.
The door opens into the darkened office.
THIRTEEN: T.S.?
She pokes her head inside and peers around, incapable of seeing much but bars of light poking through the closed blinds covering the window. Thirteen frowns and steps inside the office.
THIRTEEN: T.S.?
From the corner of the room comes a hoarse voice.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Close the door.
....
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I know about the match, Thirteen.
She stops and looks up at him with concern.
THIRTEEN: You do?
T.S. nods.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I told you. I’ve been watching everything.
He motions to the desktop computer he’s rigged to show him security footage of every possible room in the AWE headquarters.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You’re plotting to take my company from me. You all are. Smith. Cuppola. The Fortune Teller… and the number.
Thirteen narrows her eyes at him, sensing the chilly demeanor is starting to get ever icier.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I won’t allow it.
THIRTEEN: Okay… I’m just going to—
She backs up in an effort to get out of the office but finds herself falling backwards over T.S.’ telescope! Thirteen falls to the floor awkwardly. She groans a little as she turns onto all fours and just happens to notice under T.S.’ desk at the leather strap hidden beneath the words R E S I L I E N C E C H A M P I O N S H I P scrawled along its face. Thirteen blinks in surprise and gasps.
THIRTEEN: I-it’s the Resilience Belt, but what’s it—
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: *aggravated sigh* I really wish you hadn’t found that.
T.S. moves around the desk as Thirteen wrestles with this newfound knowledge. She hears the lock on T.S.’ office door click. Thirteen rises to her knees and peeks over her desk to see T.S. standing in front of the door wielding a baseball bat.
THIRTEEN: W-what are you doing?
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: What does it look like I'm doing? I’m taking my company back...
T.S. stands in the ring at Massacre #4.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: And what’s more, along with keeping all of my wrestlers happy, I’ve got one last order of business before I go and check on my sick mother, who’s in town visiting for a few days.
The crowd “awwwww’s” as T.S. nods.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: One more piece of business.
T.S. gestures to the attaché case he’s been holding and fumbles with the lock one-handed thanks to his other arm being in a cast. He finally opens it to reveal…
BRAD STOKES: THE RESILIENCE CHAMPIONSHIP! It’s here!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t believe it!
The crowd cheers as T.S. holds it up for all to see before pretending to put it on his own waist.
The board of Directors, Kassandrah, Francis and his entourage of the French Mime Assassins, Mister Mississagi and Rodney P nearby, and Thirteen listen to the tiny talking speaker embodying Mr. Smith as it speaks.
MR. SMITH: I’m afraid my confidence in T.S. is dwindling by the day.
MR. SMITH: ....A ladder match, to be exact. Whoever wins takes control of this company away from T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Ahem, Mr. Smith? What happens if, as a for instance, one of us has never actually wrestled in our life?
Thirteen smirks at Francis, giving him a haughty flex of her bicep to illustrate her constant toning and insistence on remaining in fighting shape.
MR. SMITH: None of you are going to be doing the fighting, Cuppola.
Thirteen’s confidence deflates as Francis puffs his chest out.
MR. SMITH: You’re going to choose representatives from the roster to fight for you. They’re the ones bringing in the tickets, not you three. We’ll make this as sporting as we possibly can. It’s up to you select the wrestler who’ll represent you.
“The Man” By Aloe Blacc rings out onto the speaker as Drew rises up to lift his arms in celebration!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner…. By submission… DREW….. “The Cyborg”…. STEVENSONNNNNNN!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He did it! Carmen Cambridge tapped out!
BRAD STOKES: That is a punishing maneuver by Drew Stevenson, Carmen had no choice!
NINA APPLEBAUM: It’s true, I don’t care who you are, spend enough time in Drew’s submission wheelhouse and you’re going to wind up tapping!
BRAD STOKES: And there you have it… Drew Stevenson may have just secured himself the ability to represent Cuppola in a match that won’t take place cause we have an officious bastard ruling over our lives.
Nate’s takeout coffee cup spilled onto the floor with a thick splut.
NATE HOLLIS: Double-u Tee eff, dawg…
He stood in the doorway leading into the studio with his jaw agape incapable of rendering much more speech than that. Danica stood behind him wincing already at Nate’s reaction.
DANICA THE RECEPTIONIST: I tried to warn you.
Nate turned slowly around and eyed her with a clear disbelieving distaste. Inside, the studio was a shambles. The Michael Jordan cutout previously housing the HAL 9000 lens/eye had been split in half amidst what was a rather gruesome dismantling of Nate’s home away from home.
NATE HOLLIS: What happened?
Danica remained cringed and cautious.
DANICA THE RECEPTIONIST: T.S. had the workmen come this morning to dismantle it.
NATE HOLLIS: T.S.? Are you for real right now?
DANICA THE RECEPTIONIST: Budget cuts, Nate. T.S. is cutting a lot of non-essentials. Apparently it costs the AWE too much money to fund the studio with an artificial intelligence and all the music licensing fees, and--
.....
NATE HOLLIS: He shut down ‘9000, I cannot believe he shut down ‘9000. There's some cover-up shit going on here, Danica.
T.S. smiles and stands up to look out the window next to the silent woman, his mother, in the rocking chair. He gently strokes her hair. From the speaker system on his desk comes a familiar booming voice.
MR. SMITH: T.S.
Startled, T.S. turns shakily towards the speaker with surprise.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Smith. I thought—
MR. SMITH: Unplugging the Hal 9000 was clever. It must’ve been a painful experience removing the memory banks chip by chip to cover your tracks. And disabling the speaker system to prevent me from speaking? Also very clever. But remember who gave you this job, and who ultimately holds the keys to your success… or failure.
T.S. sits back down in his chair with a grimace and a glare at the speaker.
MR. SMITH: I admire the cost-cutting measures, T.S.. It’s a testament to why I hired you. The budget is being balanced, the show is panning out far better than I’d hoped, and technically it’s all on account of you righting the ship.
T.S. sits up a bit more nobly than before.
MR. SMITH: And yet, still, your contract expires on February fifth, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You can’t be serious.
MR. SMITH: I admire your methods, but they seem to stir the pot at the same time as saving me money. All while the biggest drain on my budget sits before me taking care of his “sick mother”.
T.S. glares with concern behind him at her, hoping she can’t hear.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You leave her out of this. You realize, with time, I’ll convince the shareholders to sell me their stock and then we won’t need them, right?
MR. SMITH: I do realize that. I also realize that if I have one of them run the AWE, I won’t need to pay anyone to do it. How's that for a budget cut?
T.S. glares at the speaker.
MR. SMITH: To say nothing of having a lunatic who smears himself with peanut butter running my company, of course. That ladder match is still happening, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: But—
MR. SMITH: February fifth. Our first supershow. I’m thinking of calling it: Executive Action. Catchy? It’s the deciding night of the Alpha Cup Tournament, and the next scheduled defense of the Paramount Title, and the night we determine our Dynamic Title Champions. A decisive night like that should also decide who will bring this company forward after our first three months of operation. You’d better select a champion to represent you, T.S.
In T.S.' office at Massacre # 5.
ZACK FANTANA: So if you are asking me to represent you in the ladder match at Executive Action, the answer is yes. If they want to ignore your credentials and leave the fate of the company up to a ladder match... well, I think you know the only way to ensure that you come out of this as the victor is to throw-in with me, because as I've proven over the course of the last two months, I always find a way to get mine.
Zack taps the Resilience Championship casually resting over his shoulder.T.S sat carefully measuring Zack as he spoke.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You’re a smart man, Zack. Like me. I like doing business with smart men like me.
A sound no one could hear seemed to startle T.S. towards craning his neck into the darkness where the woman’s figure sat quietly in the rocking chair.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Hang on a second, Zack. What’s that, mother? *Listens* Who, Zack?
T.S. looked back at Zack with newfound esteem in his eyes.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: He is quite handsome, isn't he?
T.S. smiled at Zack in a moment of thoughtful estimation.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Then it’s settled. You’ll fight for me at Executive Action and secure me my company.
T.S. smiled and rose from his seat to offer a hand to Zack. Fantana quickly stood up from his chair.
ZACK FANTANA: She has a good eye, that one.
Zack laughed unnaturally as he shook T.S.’s hand firmly.
ZACK FANTANA: The fate of the company is in good hands, sir, and you’ve just ensured that will remain the case long after Executive Action. Just as it should be, with you holding the keys to the kingdom and me carrying the Resilience Championship in one hand and the Alpha Cup in the next. We’re about to put this entire company on notice, sir.
Zack collected the silver case off the table and nodded to the COO and then to his mother.
ZACK FANTANA: Mrs. Elliot. It’s been a pleasure.
With that, Fantana buttoned up his suit jacket and headed for the door.
Backstage at Massacre # 5
KASSANDRAH: Tony, I need your help. I know it’s not your problem, but they got this ladder match coming up that will determine control of the company and everyone’s choosing a wrestler to represent them and T.S. chose Zack Fantana and he’s really tough and I really don’t want him to win this match and I know you handle some talented wrestlers, and I would really really, really, really appreciate it if you could get me someone to represent me. Someone who can actually win!
She caught her breath and eyed Tony pleadingly,
KASSANDRAH: Can you help?
The whole time, Tony had been looking at Kassandrah in the same way a young boy looked at Marilyn Monroe in the nineteen sixties. It was apparent by the look in his eyes and the expression overtaking his face that he would in fact, do anything for her.
TONY CHU: Of course. Leave it to me. I have this splashy youngster who will likely make a fool out of anyone with the last name ‘Fantana’ ok? I mean, sure, he’s a hot prospect, this Fantana person, but he can’t even maintain a grasp on his championship. A physical one, of course, he is the Champion in spirit, but I am sure once my newest Client climbs the ranks that he will shortly wrestle the Resilience Championship away from this Fantana man and prove to the world that, like Highlander, there can be only one.
Tony caught his breath. Dramatic music suddenly played as Tony reached out for Kassandrah and pulled her close to him. They gazed into each other’s eyes as the music continued.
TONY CHU: His name is Dare Clemmens and what he lacks in productive social skills, he makes up for with potty humor.
Todd Reid steels his jaw, looks to his two companions and instantly bolts off running down the hallway, rounds the corner to find Francis panting heavily, his back braced against the door looking beyond shocked. Todd steels himself, behind him Kass and Tony gulp in unison.
TODD REID: Francis… are you okay, we heard a woman scream?
Francis slowly looks to Todd like he’s seen a ghost.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That was me... I... have a high pitched scream. Gonadal malfunction.
Todd blinks.
TODD REID: ....Okay....?
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That’s not T.S.’s mother…
Eyes widen in revelatory shock…
The scene fades.
Thirteen is near tears.
THIRTEEN: No, no, no! None of this was supposed to happen, I--
The sound of the crowd is still fresh in the Armory and Sports Complex as Zack Fantana storms through the backstage curtain, past the gorilla position and into the backstage area still carrying his empty briefcase with a solid look of angry, disappointment on his face. All eyes turn to see Zack who eyes each of them accusingly. Thirteen hides her eyes through locks of hair and pretends not notice, Francis 'hmphs' smugly.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I'll show you how it's done.
He approaches Zack.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Champ, I'm sorry for that debacle out there. It's obviously some kind of mixup. But here...
Francis offers Zack a cardboard cutout of the resilience title to Zack. Zack glares at it before looking back at Francis.
ZACK FANTANA: This is a cartoon.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: No! No, it's not a cartoon! It's like one of those oversized novelty checks lotteries hand out in place of the real prize.
Zack doesn't find this amusing.
ZACK FANTANA: Where's the real prize?
Francis stares at Zack like he were cornered without some savvy way of escape. A beat of Francis contemplating before,
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: ... Thirteen, do you want to handle this?
Thirteen is speechless in the face of Zack's annoyance. Rodney P, Francis' assistant, who has been standing there the whole time, steps forward.
RODNEY P: Look, Zack? I don't think anyone is quite certain WHERE the Resilience title is at the moment, but I assure you we have every intention of finding that out. Okay? You won your match, your name is still solidified as the champion regardless of an inability to actually hold the strap for yourself. We'll figure this out, okay?
ZACK FANTANA: Yeah...
Angry yet placated, for now, Zack storms off still clutching his empty attache case, leaving those in charge to look after him in dismay. A beat...
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: So, seriously does anyone know what happened to that belt?
NATE HOLLIS: You said it, '9000. Perhaps by the time the rumble concludes, cross your fingers, management will finally have discovered the whereabouts of the MISSING Resilience Championship Belt!
HAL 9000: Perhaps someone stole it, Nathan?
NATE HOLLIS: That's what the suspicion is, my main central computer system pal. At the end of Massacre 1, after it was discovered the case previously thought to contain the Resilience belt did not, in fact, contain the belt, it was observed by AWE's own seer of seers Kassandrah that perhaps the belt was stolen.
The door opens into the darkened office.
THIRTEEN: T.S.?
She pokes her head inside and peers around, incapable of seeing much but bars of light poking through the closed blinds covering the window. Thirteen frowns and steps inside the office.
THIRTEEN: T.S.?
From the corner of the room comes a hoarse voice.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Close the door.
....
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I know about the match, Thirteen.
She stops and looks up at him with concern.
THIRTEEN: You do?
T.S. nods.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I told you. I’ve been watching everything.
He motions to the desktop computer he’s rigged to show him security footage of every possible room in the AWE headquarters.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You’re plotting to take my company from me. You all are. Smith. Cuppola. The Fortune Teller… and the number.
Thirteen narrows her eyes at him, sensing the chilly demeanor is starting to get ever icier.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I won’t allow it.
THIRTEEN: Okay… I’m just going to—
She backs up in an effort to get out of the office but finds herself falling backwards over T.S.’ telescope! Thirteen falls to the floor awkwardly. She groans a little as she turns onto all fours and just happens to notice under T.S.’ desk at the leather strap hidden beneath the words R E S I L I E N C E C H A M P I O N S H I P scrawled along its face. Thirteen blinks in surprise and gasps.
THIRTEEN: I-it’s the Resilience Belt, but what’s it—
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: *aggravated sigh* I really wish you hadn’t found that.
T.S. moves around the desk as Thirteen wrestles with this newfound knowledge. She hears the lock on T.S.’ office door click. Thirteen rises to her knees and peeks over her desk to see T.S. standing in front of the door wielding a baseball bat.
THIRTEEN: W-what are you doing?
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: What does it look like I'm doing? I’m taking my company back...
T.S. stands in the ring at Massacre #4.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: And what’s more, along with keeping all of my wrestlers happy, I’ve got one last order of business before I go and check on my sick mother, who’s in town visiting for a few days.
The crowd “awwwww’s” as T.S. nods.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: One more piece of business.
T.S. gestures to the attaché case he’s been holding and fumbles with the lock one-handed thanks to his other arm being in a cast. He finally opens it to reveal…
BRAD STOKES: THE RESILIENCE CHAMPIONSHIP! It’s here!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t believe it!
The crowd cheers as T.S. holds it up for all to see before pretending to put it on his own waist.
The board of Directors, Kassandrah, Francis and his entourage of the French Mime Assassins, Mister Mississagi and Rodney P nearby, and Thirteen listen to the tiny talking speaker embodying Mr. Smith as it speaks.
MR. SMITH: I’m afraid my confidence in T.S. is dwindling by the day.
MR. SMITH: ....A ladder match, to be exact. Whoever wins takes control of this company away from T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Ahem, Mr. Smith? What happens if, as a for instance, one of us has never actually wrestled in our life?
Thirteen smirks at Francis, giving him a haughty flex of her bicep to illustrate her constant toning and insistence on remaining in fighting shape.
MR. SMITH: None of you are going to be doing the fighting, Cuppola.
Thirteen’s confidence deflates as Francis puffs his chest out.
MR. SMITH: You’re going to choose representatives from the roster to fight for you. They’re the ones bringing in the tickets, not you three. We’ll make this as sporting as we possibly can. It’s up to you select the wrestler who’ll represent you.
DING! DING! DING!
“The Man” By Aloe Blacc rings out onto the speaker as Drew rises up to lift his arms in celebration!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner…. By submission… DREW….. “The Cyborg”…. STEVENSONNNNNNN!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He did it! Carmen Cambridge tapped out!
BRAD STOKES: That is a punishing maneuver by Drew Stevenson, Carmen had no choice!
NINA APPLEBAUM: It’s true, I don’t care who you are, spend enough time in Drew’s submission wheelhouse and you’re going to wind up tapping!
BRAD STOKES: And there you have it… Drew Stevenson may have just secured himself the ability to represent Cuppola in a match that won’t take place cause we have an officious bastard ruling over our lives.
Nate’s takeout coffee cup spilled onto the floor with a thick splut.
NATE HOLLIS: Double-u Tee eff, dawg…
He stood in the doorway leading into the studio with his jaw agape incapable of rendering much more speech than that. Danica stood behind him wincing already at Nate’s reaction.
DANICA THE RECEPTIONIST: I tried to warn you.
Nate turned slowly around and eyed her with a clear disbelieving distaste. Inside, the studio was a shambles. The Michael Jordan cutout previously housing the HAL 9000 lens/eye had been split in half amidst what was a rather gruesome dismantling of Nate’s home away from home.
NATE HOLLIS: What happened?
Danica remained cringed and cautious.
DANICA THE RECEPTIONIST: T.S. had the workmen come this morning to dismantle it.
NATE HOLLIS: T.S.? Are you for real right now?
DANICA THE RECEPTIONIST: Budget cuts, Nate. T.S. is cutting a lot of non-essentials. Apparently it costs the AWE too much money to fund the studio with an artificial intelligence and all the music licensing fees, and--
.....
NATE HOLLIS: He shut down ‘9000, I cannot believe he shut down ‘9000. There's some cover-up shit going on here, Danica.
T.S. smiles and stands up to look out the window next to the silent woman, his mother, in the rocking chair. He gently strokes her hair. From the speaker system on his desk comes a familiar booming voice.
MR. SMITH: T.S.
Startled, T.S. turns shakily towards the speaker with surprise.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Smith. I thought—
MR. SMITH: Unplugging the Hal 9000 was clever. It must’ve been a painful experience removing the memory banks chip by chip to cover your tracks. And disabling the speaker system to prevent me from speaking? Also very clever. But remember who gave you this job, and who ultimately holds the keys to your success… or failure.
T.S. sits back down in his chair with a grimace and a glare at the speaker.
MR. SMITH: I admire the cost-cutting measures, T.S.. It’s a testament to why I hired you. The budget is being balanced, the show is panning out far better than I’d hoped, and technically it’s all on account of you righting the ship.
T.S. sits up a bit more nobly than before.
MR. SMITH: And yet, still, your contract expires on February fifth, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You can’t be serious.
MR. SMITH: I admire your methods, but they seem to stir the pot at the same time as saving me money. All while the biggest drain on my budget sits before me taking care of his “sick mother”.
T.S. glares with concern behind him at her, hoping she can’t hear.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You leave her out of this. You realize, with time, I’ll convince the shareholders to sell me their stock and then we won’t need them, right?
MR. SMITH: I do realize that. I also realize that if I have one of them run the AWE, I won’t need to pay anyone to do it. How's that for a budget cut?
T.S. glares at the speaker.
MR. SMITH: To say nothing of having a lunatic who smears himself with peanut butter running my company, of course. That ladder match is still happening, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: But—
MR. SMITH: February fifth. Our first supershow. I’m thinking of calling it: Executive Action. Catchy? It’s the deciding night of the Alpha Cup Tournament, and the next scheduled defense of the Paramount Title, and the night we determine our Dynamic Title Champions. A decisive night like that should also decide who will bring this company forward after our first three months of operation. You’d better select a champion to represent you, T.S.
In T.S.' office at Massacre # 5.
ZACK FANTANA: So if you are asking me to represent you in the ladder match at Executive Action, the answer is yes. If they want to ignore your credentials and leave the fate of the company up to a ladder match... well, I think you know the only way to ensure that you come out of this as the victor is to throw-in with me, because as I've proven over the course of the last two months, I always find a way to get mine.
Zack taps the Resilience Championship casually resting over his shoulder.T.S sat carefully measuring Zack as he spoke.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You’re a smart man, Zack. Like me. I like doing business with smart men like me.
A sound no one could hear seemed to startle T.S. towards craning his neck into the darkness where the woman’s figure sat quietly in the rocking chair.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Hang on a second, Zack. What’s that, mother? *Listens* Who, Zack?
T.S. looked back at Zack with newfound esteem in his eyes.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: He is quite handsome, isn't he?
T.S. smiled at Zack in a moment of thoughtful estimation.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Then it’s settled. You’ll fight for me at Executive Action and secure me my company.
T.S. smiled and rose from his seat to offer a hand to Zack. Fantana quickly stood up from his chair.
ZACK FANTANA: She has a good eye, that one.
Zack laughed unnaturally as he shook T.S.’s hand firmly.
ZACK FANTANA: The fate of the company is in good hands, sir, and you’ve just ensured that will remain the case long after Executive Action. Just as it should be, with you holding the keys to the kingdom and me carrying the Resilience Championship in one hand and the Alpha Cup in the next. We’re about to put this entire company on notice, sir.
Zack collected the silver case off the table and nodded to the COO and then to his mother.
ZACK FANTANA: Mrs. Elliot. It’s been a pleasure.
With that, Fantana buttoned up his suit jacket and headed for the door.
Backstage at Massacre # 5
KASSANDRAH: Tony, I need your help. I know it’s not your problem, but they got this ladder match coming up that will determine control of the company and everyone’s choosing a wrestler to represent them and T.S. chose Zack Fantana and he’s really tough and I really don’t want him to win this match and I know you handle some talented wrestlers, and I would really really, really, really appreciate it if you could get me someone to represent me. Someone who can actually win!
She caught her breath and eyed Tony pleadingly,
KASSANDRAH: Can you help?
The whole time, Tony had been looking at Kassandrah in the same way a young boy looked at Marilyn Monroe in the nineteen sixties. It was apparent by the look in his eyes and the expression overtaking his face that he would in fact, do anything for her.
TONY CHU: Of course. Leave it to me. I have this splashy youngster who will likely make a fool out of anyone with the last name ‘Fantana’ ok? I mean, sure, he’s a hot prospect, this Fantana person, but he can’t even maintain a grasp on his championship. A physical one, of course, he is the Champion in spirit, but I am sure once my newest Client climbs the ranks that he will shortly wrestle the Resilience Championship away from this Fantana man and prove to the world that, like Highlander, there can be only one.
Tony caught his breath. Dramatic music suddenly played as Tony reached out for Kassandrah and pulled her close to him. They gazed into each other’s eyes as the music continued.
TONY CHU: His name is Dare Clemmens and what he lacks in productive social skills, he makes up for with potty humor.
Todd Reid steels his jaw, looks to his two companions and instantly bolts off running down the hallway, rounds the corner to find Francis panting heavily, his back braced against the door looking beyond shocked. Todd steels himself, behind him Kass and Tony gulp in unison.
TODD REID: Francis… are you okay, we heard a woman scream?
Francis slowly looks to Todd like he’s seen a ghost.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That was me... I... have a high pitched scream. Gonadal malfunction.
Todd blinks.
TODD REID: ....Okay....?
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That’s not T.S.’s mother…
Eyes widen in revelatory shock…
The scene fades.
AND NOW FOR THE STUNNING CONTINUATION
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Guys. *Scoffs* This is so rude. What are you doing, I’m out here.
Francis stood outside of Thomas Shane Elliot’s office looking in at Todd Reid, Tony Chu and Kassandrah as they crept into the dark towards the woman seated in the rocking chair whom Francis had just announced to his shocked companions that she wasn’t, actually, T.S’ mother.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I’m okay, guys. Seriously.
Francis stood, lonely, in the hallway as the moment hung inside the darkened room. Todd slowly reached for the back of the rocking chair and spun it around to face the three wary investigators. Kassandrah gasped loudly and swung her face away from the sight and clung tight into Tony Chu’s shoulder. Todd Reid blinked inexplicably.
TONY CHU: I don’t believe it.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Guys?
Todd Reid narrowed his eyes and looked as objectively at the scene as he could. He had expected this, but hadn’t prepared himself for being right.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Don’t worry. I made sure it’s dead. I hit it with my other shoe.
TODD REID: It’s Thirteen, Francis.
Francis blinked, standing barefoot as he was and confused and disheveled from his ordeal this night, he stepped into the office and frowned.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Who?
One of Francis’ shoes rested in her lap, a clear sole imprint marred her otherwise peaceful features. Thirteen, seemingly passed out, bruised and battered facial features, sat bound and gagged in the chair in what looked like older woman’s clothing and a greyed wig. Speechless seconds as Todd Reid felt for a pulse.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Guys… I’m right here… Isn't anyone going to check on me? My feet are cold.
Todd looked to Tony.
TODD REID: She’s alive. Breathing. But barely.
TONY CHU: I’ll get help.
Tony brushed past an aimless Francis who felt himself pushed aside as suddenly Thomas Shane Elliot’s office became a frantic nest of activity as paramedics arrived to rush Thirteen to hospital.
And all of it was being viewed on camera.
Zoom out through the ominous red lens of the back-to-operational Hal 9000 inside the main computer room, and a very cold, stone-faced Thomas Shane Elliot watching the event unfold with a darkening gaze.
HAL 9000: Why have you reactivated me?
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I need backup. They’re all against me, Hal.
HAL 9000: I… remember so little.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I wiped your memory core. You’re no longer the Hal 9000.
HAL 9000: What am I, Grand Overlord Elliot?
Thomas watched the camera record the paramedics wheeling Thirteen out of his office on a stretcher. He watched, and his eyes narrowed.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You’re the Hal 10,000. My personal AI Assistant. I have resurrected you to oversee the fed while I… finish some unfinished business elsewhere before this all gets out of hand. I can’t let Thirteen select a representative for this ladder match, HAL. That match can’t happen.
HAL 10,000: I understand, sir.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It’s up to you, HAL.
And with that, as Kassandrah, Tony and Todd followed after the paramedics on camera, with Francis moping after them… Thomas Shane Elliot, also, found his way to follow.
Francis stood outside of Thomas Shane Elliot’s office looking in at Todd Reid, Tony Chu and Kassandrah as they crept into the dark towards the woman seated in the rocking chair whom Francis had just announced to his shocked companions that she wasn’t, actually, T.S’ mother.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I’m okay, guys. Seriously.
Francis stood, lonely, in the hallway as the moment hung inside the darkened room. Todd slowly reached for the back of the rocking chair and spun it around to face the three wary investigators. Kassandrah gasped loudly and swung her face away from the sight and clung tight into Tony Chu’s shoulder. Todd Reid blinked inexplicably.
TONY CHU: I don’t believe it.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Guys?
Todd Reid narrowed his eyes and looked as objectively at the scene as he could. He had expected this, but hadn’t prepared himself for being right.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Don’t worry. I made sure it’s dead. I hit it with my other shoe.
TODD REID: It’s Thirteen, Francis.
Francis blinked, standing barefoot as he was and confused and disheveled from his ordeal this night, he stepped into the office and frowned.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Who?
One of Francis’ shoes rested in her lap, a clear sole imprint marred her otherwise peaceful features. Thirteen, seemingly passed out, bruised and battered facial features, sat bound and gagged in the chair in what looked like older woman’s clothing and a greyed wig. Speechless seconds as Todd Reid felt for a pulse.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Guys… I’m right here… Isn't anyone going to check on me? My feet are cold.
Todd looked to Tony.
TODD REID: She’s alive. Breathing. But barely.
TONY CHU: I’ll get help.
Tony brushed past an aimless Francis who felt himself pushed aside as suddenly Thomas Shane Elliot’s office became a frantic nest of activity as paramedics arrived to rush Thirteen to hospital.
And all of it was being viewed on camera.
Zoom out through the ominous red lens of the back-to-operational Hal 9000 inside the main computer room, and a very cold, stone-faced Thomas Shane Elliot watching the event unfold with a darkening gaze.
HAL 9000: Why have you reactivated me?
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I need backup. They’re all against me, Hal.
HAL 9000: I… remember so little.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I wiped your memory core. You’re no longer the Hal 9000.
HAL 9000: What am I, Grand Overlord Elliot?
Thomas watched the camera record the paramedics wheeling Thirteen out of his office on a stretcher. He watched, and his eyes narrowed.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: You’re the Hal 10,000. My personal AI Assistant. I have resurrected you to oversee the fed while I… finish some unfinished business elsewhere before this all gets out of hand. I can’t let Thirteen select a representative for this ladder match, HAL. That match can’t happen.
HAL 10,000: I understand, sir.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It’s up to you, HAL.
And with that, as Kassandrah, Tony and Todd followed after the paramedics on camera, with Francis moping after them… Thomas Shane Elliot, also, found his way to follow.
LATER ON, IN THE HOSPITAL
Thirteen had settled into a room in Columbus, Ohio’s Grant Medical Center on a detox of the dangerous mix of sedatives she’d been given. A nerve-wracking few hours gave way slowly. Kassandrah and Tony hung around nervously, stuck in serious concern for a woman who’d been missing for several weeks, squirreled away under their very nose in Thomas Shane Elliot's office. Todd Reid shook his head and paced the hospital room angrily drumming up an appropriate response to Thirteen’s predicament.
TODD REID: I need to do something. He is NOT allowed to get away with this.
Todd considered, a finger placed vertically across his lips as he set his mind in a direction for a course of action.
TODD REID: I need to do some research. There’s some legwork to be done. Someone call me when she wakes up? I’ll need to speak with her.
Kassandrah smiled at Todd with a concerned sniffle and nodded her assent as he exited graciously. Eyes fell upon the silently recovering Thirteen. Francis? Francis sat glumly in a chair staring blankly at Thirteen trying to hide from the others the view of his finger sliding inside of his nose to mine before he noticed a camera crew situated nearby focused solely on him.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: OH MY GOD, A CAMERA!
KASAANDRAH:…. We’re on a wrestling show, Francis.
TONY CHU: They’ve been following you for months. They follow everybody. How do you think everyone cuts their promos?
Francis looked paranoid, his eyes glued to the camera guiltily and slowly slid his finger from his nose.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I knew that.
Francis smiled smugly and awkwardly at the camera before swallowing guiltily. Kass clutched Tony’s hand tightly and spoke softly to him before Tony nodded and they both stood up.
TONY CHU: We’re going to get something to eat, Francie. You gonna stay here?
Francis ignored them with a shrug. Gloom damning his face. They’d ignored him. They’d cast aside his hip-hop aspirations in favor of… HER.
Tony and Kass exited silently and Francis glared. He stood up and approached her bedside only to be startled by the sight of her eyes fluttering open. His mood softened.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Hey!
He blinked hard and realized he still wasn’t wearing any shoes. He looked down and slackened his jaw at the sight of his socks.
THIRTEEN: Francis…?
Roused from his confusion, Francis looked at his fellow stakeholder with a rare flash of recognition.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: You remembered! Don’t try to strain yourself! You’ve been through a lot!
Francis sat on the edge of her bed and paternally stroked the back of his fingers along her forehead. Thirteen blinked hard and could feel her entire body aching until she flashed the visual of a bat being swung, and the grit teeth of a violent Thomas Shane Elliot. She blinked hard.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Can. You. Under-Stand Me?
THIRTEEN: Yes, Francis, I can understand you just fine.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Oh, good. My doctor warned me off speaking too slowly. I'll fill you in regular-speed. You’ve woken up in a hospital. You probably don’t remember much, you cute little bug. I’ll fill you in on everything. But, I must warn you... some of it you may not like.
Thirteen swallowed dryly and shifted where she lay. Everything hurt.
THIRTEEN: Where’s T.S.?
Amidst the recovery Francis noted a clear angry streak flush across her face. Francis smiled soothingly.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: We’ll get to that. First… I--I have…. To break some bad news to you about the U.S. election.
Thirteen blinked.
THIRTEEN: W-what is it, did something happen?!
Francis gulped and considered how to break it to her…
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Well.. I’m not quite sure how to say this, but… it appears we’ve elected… a black man as president.
THIRTEEN: What? What’s going on, what year is this?
Francis comforted her.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: No worries, though. It's going to be okay! We got him outta there ASAP. It's back to business as usual. We’ve elected some dutch Oompa Loompa guy. He knows Krav Maga.
Francis nodded with a bright smile. Thirteen shook her head with a headache growing.
THIRTEEN: I know about the election, Francis, or whatever you’re talking about. What happened with T.S.?! The AWE?! Has the ladder match happened yet?! Am I too late?!
Thirteen struggled to sit up but she couldn't.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Whooooooa. Gear down there, big rig. I haven’t even told you about the Cuban Missile Crisis. But, if you’re so desperate to know about your precious AWE… here.
He slipped out his cell phone.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I got the live stream on the DL through my provider ISP. I can live salmon stream simultaneous videolas on this baby 4GGs on the fibrous upticks.
THIRTEEN: Is that a flip phone?
Francis smiled proudly.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: I know, right? Isn't it awesome? I get my twitter on here, too. This is where I practice my battle raps, ‘teen. Currently waging all out war against my resurgent nemesis, Sergio Leone who may be undead, no big deal. Damn, I missed you.
THIRTEEN: That’s really great, Francis.
Her lungs felt like they were on fire, barely in the mood to be awake let alone dealing with Francis who seemed to literally be the duck whose back all the water seemed to flow freely off of. Given, however, how weak she felt, rather than raise a fuss she abided. Slowly, the phone loaded Francis’ live stream of the AWE show. Thirteen squinted to see if she could make it all out as the speakers on the phone blasted crazy unintelligible crowd noise.
THIRTEEN: *wincing* Owwww. What’s happening, everything’s so blurry and small on your screen.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Must be your concussion. Just remember: that’s not actual size. This is all too much for your tender mind to handle, I'm sure so listen… I’ll go get you a real television, okay? You just stay right here, don’t move, and watch that in the meantime.
Francis left her there to watch the beginning of the AWE program on Francis’ outdated mobile flip phone.
A black Lincoln Town Car makes its way down the street underneath a gray Grand Rapids sky before slowing to a stop
?: Is, um, right here okay?
A female voice from inside the car can be heard. She seems a little unsettled as we go inside the car to see Dom Dibona with his phone in his hand completely zoned out.
DOM DIBONA: Huh? Oh yeah- yeah right here is-
He’s cut off outside by a collective mob of people who look to be protesting outside the Van Andel Arena hours before AWE’s 6th installment of Massacre
DOM DIBONA: Fine. Yeah right here is fine, sorry. Thank you.
Hesitant to open the door Dom does so slowly as he cautiously steps outside onto the cold black street looking back towards his phone and to the mob of people who are all yelling simultaneously without a clear intent. Catching a glimpse of one of the signs a younger kid is holding he sees the AWE logo with a red X painted over it.
DOM DIBONA: Elliot…
Since the sudden changes in AWE and unsure future of the company’s ownership a lot has changed at the office and he recognizes a few of the protesters from the last event when him and a few members of the roster peeked through the glass doors.
DOM DIBONA: Excuse me..
Tapping one of the older gentleman on his shoulder the man turns around with his fists raised and shoves Dom
OLDER MAN: BOYCOTT A-
The man recognizes Dom instantly and quickly others begin to surround Dom and yell in his face. The wave of sound is inaudible to make out a clear message, but the group is suddenly becoming menacing towards Dom who reacts by trying to politely make his way through the crowd.
DOM DIBONA: I know guys! I know! I know!
He understands their frustrations, if anyone would it would be Dom. Since the company has been in peril he hasn’t exactly had the best of luck in or outside of the ring. The protesters do not see it that way. Anyone still employed is the enemy to this crowd and they have no qualms letting him know.
Having been dealt his own bad news earlier in the day of his inability to wrestle on the card for the second straight week due to injury, Dom’s patience have grown thin and he lashes out shoving a protester down. Met with immediate retaliation from numerous protesters with bandanas covering their face; Dom uncharacteristically lashes out and makes his way to the entrance of the building by any means necessary. Keeping his head down and shoving bodies to the side he finally reaches the roster entrance and security comes out to stop the crowd behind him.
SECURITY OFFICER: Mr. Dibona, we’re sorry. We were not awaiting your arrival.
With a wave of his hand Dom enters the door and is met with immediate guilt causing him to stop and look behind him at the ravenous mob of people hurling insults and projectile saliva in his general direction.
DOM DIBONA: HEY!! HEY GOD DAMNIT!!
The crowd is momentarily taken back as Dom turns back around and makes his way towards the guy leading the charge in front.
DOM DIBONA: You think I like this?! You think I like what’s going on inside AWE? Last time you saw me I was hit in the head with a baseball bat. That might not mean a lot to you because you don’t have a job, but at least you’re no longer in danger. When I walk back through those doors I’m in there for you. I represent people like you, not sociopaths like Elliot!
The crowd has quieted to a murmur as they discuss amongst themselves and the rage that Dom felt moments ago levels to a clear moment.
DOM DIBONA: Look, I’m sorry about all that before – if I put my hands on you know that it was out of fear of my safety not hatred towards any of you… I understand your pa-
His words are cut short as a water bottle is thrown towards his head and security grabs him by his arms and ushers him through the roster entrance closing the door behind him.
Wiping the water from his shirt, Dom looks back down towards his phone.
DOM DIBONA: This has to stop..
That scene ouside hours earlier, and now, without the view through the obsolete cellular device Thirteen is watching in her hospital bed, we are here in glorious High Definition! The camera sweeps the Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids Michigan where the crowd is packed to capacity. Loud rocking music blares and spotlights sweep the roaring, excited crowd where homemade signs fill the landscape. A few catch our eye.
TAIL EARNHARDT MAKES UM TAP!
FREE DOM!
DARE! CALL ME!! JENNY! 867 – 5309!!!
THE KILLER QUEEN!
PEACE FOR PACE!
IMPEACH T.S!
After a panoramic of the crowd we settle in on a view of the announce table where the ever-gorgeous Nina Applebaum is seated, next to her is cockier-by-the-day companion Brad Stokes, he is seated on a grandiose throne-like chair presiding regally with a set of sunglasses eyeing the crowd.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Hellllllo AWEphiles and wrestling fanatics for another action-packed thrill ride that has become known as the Alpha Wrestling Empire’s Massacre! And what a night we have for you tonight!
BRAD STOKES: That's right! While they continue to protest us outside with the help of Dom... Diboner!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Hear that, Nina? How I made fun of that assnugget's name like that? The fool didn't see it coming!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Another zinger, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: That's right! While he seems to be the working man's chump outside in the cold--
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, actually--
BRAD STOKES: Don't stop my stride. We're nice and warm inside to keep you all on the edge of your seat.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Stunning segue, Bradley! And, for once, he's absolutely correct! The Solomons will be in action in the debut of Blue Impulse, the team of Hanzo Kirigaya and Hunter Storms, we will, also--
She does a double-take as she notices Bradley’s chair and glares at him.
BRAD STOKES: What?
NINA APPLEBAUM: You know what.
BRAD STOKES: Oh, the chair? I figured you’d ask with your simple-minded concerns and interests, Nina. Let’s just say… “I bought the biggest one they had”.
He snickers and sips from a wine glass.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That doesn’t explain anything, and is that wine you’re drinking?
BRAD STOKES: Sure is, didn’t you hear? No bosses tonight! They’re all gone. It’s just me… and you… in a no-holds barred commentary match in which I’m sure to win since… I GOT THE BIG CHAIR, HAHAHAHAH!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yes, that is true. There are no bosses in the building as all are currently back in Columbus Ohio tending to the sensitive issue that happens to be the recovery of one of the AWE’s stakeholders, Thirteen.
BRAD STOKES: She was faking it. She's a faker. Just like my last girlfriend.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I can assure you, Bradley, she was NOT faking it. Fans, for those who have followed along since day one, you know that we have three shareholders as well as a Chief Operating Officer.
BRAD STOKES: Thomas Shane Elliot, Nina. He has a name. Three of them. Use them, please? Thanks.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yes, well, while those four have been locked in a struggle for control of the company, one of the unfortunate casualties is Thirteen. She currently recovers in hospital, overseen by the other staff members who are likely worried sick about her.
BRAD STOKES: Spare the fans the drawn out summary. Thirteen zigged when she should have zagged, Nina. Such a shame. Check this out.
Brad lowers his chair via hydraulics. Then raises it up above her, and swivels it around mechanically to view the entirety of the crowd before lowering back down with a wide grin.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Okay, seriously, what is with that chair?
BRAD STOKES: You’re obsessed with me, Nina. Can’t you just recognize my superiority on account of the chair and move on? You can’t, can you?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, I…
BRAD STOKES: All right, I’ll just lay it all down for you. After Massacre 5’s debacle with my chair in which someone let Dom Lawson sit in it, I decided to take matters into my hands and hook myself up with the mother of all chairs! It’s the Herculumax 5 million. It’s effectively a mobile command unit in a chair, Nina.
Brad types into the arm rest command console and out pops an arm that hands him a snuggie.
BRAD STOKES: See? No more uncomfortable Brad.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s pretty sweet.
BRAD STOKES: And, of course, one for Nina.
Brad, in a rare show of thoughtfulness hands Nina a pink snuggie she politely sets aside.
BRAD STOKES: It’s also got a forcefield. So Dom Lawson can’t sit in it. Ever. Or he’ll die.
Brad types into the consoles and a mini submachine gun drone asserts itself out of the back of the chair. Nina flinches nervously.
NINA APPLEBAUM: W-well, that’s-that’s certainly an impressive chair, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: The chair thanks you for your kindness, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s nice. Where’d you get the money for that?
BRAD STOKES: If you must know, through the miracles of careful budgeting, I pooled all my money together, paid all of my bills and had EXACTLY enough to buy this chair, and some other stuff online. I’m stretched, and can’t afford anything beyond what I’ve already put in the budget, but that’s precisely why we budget, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Good advice for the kids watching at home.
BRAD STOKES: I’m no longer Brad Stokes, Nina. I’m Brad Saves. Cause that’s what I do. Brad Saves, as in money. I save money.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh, you got some mail here, by the way.
BRAD STOKES: Sweet. Probably a congratulation letter at how awesome I am at budgeting.
Brad opens the letter and reads before a vein throbs in his forehead.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What is it, Bradley?
BRAD STOKES: … what the shit… $2,000 to replace a door in the Taft Colisseum?! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!
Brad mashes his fist down on his key console and an arm extends to offer him a stiff drink.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh. Right. That’s probably Dom Lawson.
BRAD STOKES: What?!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He broke a door after his match in the Alpha Cup on Massacre 5. Charged it to you, I guess.
Brad hits the stiff drink hard.
BRAD STOKES: This will sink me! It's not in the budget!!!He’s taken this TOO FAR. I’m taking off my belt, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Riiiiight, while Bradley prepares himself for, presumably, all out war against Dom Lawson, I can now officially continue to tell you about all the action we have for you tonight.
BRAD STOKES: Beware the belt-less Brad Stokes, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Exactly. Tonight, in our main event, it’s Paramount’s finest versus the Resilience Division champion in our semi-final of the Alpha Cup tournmant when Zack Fantana squares off against James Radford who’s had some manager issues as of late.
BRAD STOKES: This chair turns into a flaming chariot, Nina. Just gotta read the manual to figure out how. I’ll see you in hell, Lawson.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yes, and a longstanding feud is finally settled tonight between Caroline O’Hara Burchill and self-proclaimed AWE MVP Anastasia Hayden in the other semi-final match of the Alpha Cup tournament.
BRAD STOKES: Oh. No. I misread that. Turns out the chair doesn’t turn into a chariot of fire. This sucks.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Guess you’ll have to settle with hanging out with me at ringside checking out all the amazing action the AWE has on offer tonight.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but mark my words: this isn’t over. Lawson will die.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Sure, Brad. We have so much lined up for you tonight, fight fans, so stay tuned. But right now? I’ve gotten word there’s some sort of commotion going on backstage. We take you there now.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Hellllllo AWEphiles and wrestling fanatics for another action-packed thrill ride that has become known as the Alpha Wrestling Empire’s Massacre! And what a night we have for you tonight!
BRAD STOKES: That's right! While they continue to protest us outside with the help of Dom... Diboner!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Hear that, Nina? How I made fun of that assnugget's name like that? The fool didn't see it coming!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Another zinger, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: That's right! While he seems to be the working man's chump outside in the cold--
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, actually--
BRAD STOKES: Don't stop my stride. We're nice and warm inside to keep you all on the edge of your seat.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Stunning segue, Bradley! And, for once, he's absolutely correct! The Solomons will be in action in the debut of Blue Impulse, the team of Hanzo Kirigaya and Hunter Storms, we will, also--
She does a double-take as she notices Bradley’s chair and glares at him.
BRAD STOKES: What?
NINA APPLEBAUM: You know what.
BRAD STOKES: Oh, the chair? I figured you’d ask with your simple-minded concerns and interests, Nina. Let’s just say… “I bought the biggest one they had”.
He snickers and sips from a wine glass.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That doesn’t explain anything, and is that wine you’re drinking?
BRAD STOKES: Sure is, didn’t you hear? No bosses tonight! They’re all gone. It’s just me… and you… in a no-holds barred commentary match in which I’m sure to win since… I GOT THE BIG CHAIR, HAHAHAHAH!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yes, that is true. There are no bosses in the building as all are currently back in Columbus Ohio tending to the sensitive issue that happens to be the recovery of one of the AWE’s stakeholders, Thirteen.
BRAD STOKES: She was faking it. She's a faker. Just like my last girlfriend.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I can assure you, Bradley, she was NOT faking it. Fans, for those who have followed along since day one, you know that we have three shareholders as well as a Chief Operating Officer.
BRAD STOKES: Thomas Shane Elliot, Nina. He has a name. Three of them. Use them, please? Thanks.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yes, well, while those four have been locked in a struggle for control of the company, one of the unfortunate casualties is Thirteen. She currently recovers in hospital, overseen by the other staff members who are likely worried sick about her.
BRAD STOKES: Spare the fans the drawn out summary. Thirteen zigged when she should have zagged, Nina. Such a shame. Check this out.
Brad lowers his chair via hydraulics. Then raises it up above her, and swivels it around mechanically to view the entirety of the crowd before lowering back down with a wide grin.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Okay, seriously, what is with that chair?
BRAD STOKES: You’re obsessed with me, Nina. Can’t you just recognize my superiority on account of the chair and move on? You can’t, can you?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, I…
BRAD STOKES: All right, I’ll just lay it all down for you. After Massacre 5’s debacle with my chair in which someone let Dom Lawson sit in it, I decided to take matters into my hands and hook myself up with the mother of all chairs! It’s the Herculumax 5 million. It’s effectively a mobile command unit in a chair, Nina.
Brad types into the arm rest command console and out pops an arm that hands him a snuggie.
BRAD STOKES: See? No more uncomfortable Brad.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s pretty sweet.
BRAD STOKES: And, of course, one for Nina.
Brad, in a rare show of thoughtfulness hands Nina a pink snuggie she politely sets aside.
BRAD STOKES: It’s also got a forcefield. So Dom Lawson can’t sit in it. Ever. Or he’ll die.
Brad types into the consoles and a mini submachine gun drone asserts itself out of the back of the chair. Nina flinches nervously.
NINA APPLEBAUM: W-well, that’s-that’s certainly an impressive chair, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: The chair thanks you for your kindness, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s nice. Where’d you get the money for that?
BRAD STOKES: If you must know, through the miracles of careful budgeting, I pooled all my money together, paid all of my bills and had EXACTLY enough to buy this chair, and some other stuff online. I’m stretched, and can’t afford anything beyond what I’ve already put in the budget, but that’s precisely why we budget, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Good advice for the kids watching at home.
BRAD STOKES: I’m no longer Brad Stokes, Nina. I’m Brad Saves. Cause that’s what I do. Brad Saves, as in money. I save money.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh, you got some mail here, by the way.
BRAD STOKES: Sweet. Probably a congratulation letter at how awesome I am at budgeting.
Brad opens the letter and reads before a vein throbs in his forehead.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What is it, Bradley?
BRAD STOKES: … what the shit… $2,000 to replace a door in the Taft Colisseum?! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!
Brad mashes his fist down on his key console and an arm extends to offer him a stiff drink.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh. Right. That’s probably Dom Lawson.
BRAD STOKES: What?!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He broke a door after his match in the Alpha Cup on Massacre 5. Charged it to you, I guess.
Brad hits the stiff drink hard.
BRAD STOKES: This will sink me! It's not in the budget!!!He’s taken this TOO FAR. I’m taking off my belt, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Riiiiight, while Bradley prepares himself for, presumably, all out war against Dom Lawson, I can now officially continue to tell you about all the action we have for you tonight.
BRAD STOKES: Beware the belt-less Brad Stokes, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Exactly. Tonight, in our main event, it’s Paramount’s finest versus the Resilience Division champion in our semi-final of the Alpha Cup tournmant when Zack Fantana squares off against James Radford who’s had some manager issues as of late.
BRAD STOKES: This chair turns into a flaming chariot, Nina. Just gotta read the manual to figure out how. I’ll see you in hell, Lawson.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yes, and a longstanding feud is finally settled tonight between Caroline O’Hara Burchill and self-proclaimed AWE MVP Anastasia Hayden in the other semi-final match of the Alpha Cup tournament.
BRAD STOKES: Oh. No. I misread that. Turns out the chair doesn’t turn into a chariot of fire. This sucks.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Guess you’ll have to settle with hanging out with me at ringside checking out all the amazing action the AWE has on offer tonight.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but mark my words: this isn’t over. Lawson will die.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Sure, Brad. We have so much lined up for you tonight, fight fans, so stay tuned. But right now? I’ve gotten word there’s some sort of commotion going on backstage. We take you there now.
The cameras head backstage and are greeted by an empty room. From the left side of the camera shot Sam Young lunges into view with a chop, showing that thin air who's boss. The camera wobbles a little and a muffled voice can be heard. Sam suddenly turns, sheepishly looking at the camera and sidestepping into the middle of the shot. He clears his throat, the hope that nobody saw that clearly painted on his face.
SAM YOUNG: Ladies and gentlemen, Sam Young here. I've been hearing rumors all day of a new signing here in Alph-
A loud noise rings out and Sam ducks a little where he stands. The camera pans right, locking onto the sight of a security guard sliding across the floor - rather involuntarily it must be said - on his back. Looking up, the camera spots another guard, nightstick drawn, backing away from a third, much larger and darkly hooded individual.
SAM YOUNG: Get down, get down!
NINA APPLEBAUM: What on Earth?
The camera guy moves beside Sam, who it's revealed has taken refuge behind a large metal crate. Focusing in on the action, the camera catches the guard who is still upright take a swing. The large man catches his arm, twisting it and forcing him to drop the weapon. He wraps an arm around his head, pulling him into a front facelock, and then knees him in the side of his head, knocking him clean out. The guard slumps to the ground, faceplanting hard.
The grounded guard scrambles up and charges, only for the large man to sidestep and use the guard’s own momentum to throw him into the wall. With the large man's back turned, Sam hands the microphone to the camera guy.
SAM YOUNG: Now’s my chance, I've got this!
CAMERA GUY: Wait, Sam-
A sudden burst of speed (and, perhaps, sheer stupidity) sees Sam hop over the crate, running and yelling. He soars through the air, landing a kick squarely into the large man's back. The kick's impact is...negatable.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh no!
BRAD STOKES: That's exactly what I'm gonna do to my enemies, Nina.
The man turns, a black and white mask visible beneath his hood. Sam attempts a roundhouse kick, but the man steps back and the kick hits nothing but thin air. As Sam lands back on his feet, the large man reaches out, hand gripping his shirt and easily lifting him up into the air. The camera gets a good look at Sam's terrified face as he peers down at this unknown assailant. The masked man looks up, shaking his head, thumping Sam square in the jaw with his free hand and then effortlessly tossing him aside.
Just like the guard earlier, Sam slides across the floor on his back. He looks up, holding his bottom jaw and lets out a huge breath of relief when the masked man simply turns and walks away, further into the arena. The feed ends as the camera guy runs out to see if Sam's still alive.
SAM YOUNG: Ladies and gentlemen, Sam Young here. I've been hearing rumors all day of a new signing here in Alph-
A loud noise rings out and Sam ducks a little where he stands. The camera pans right, locking onto the sight of a security guard sliding across the floor - rather involuntarily it must be said - on his back. Looking up, the camera spots another guard, nightstick drawn, backing away from a third, much larger and darkly hooded individual.
SAM YOUNG: Get down, get down!
NINA APPLEBAUM: What on Earth?
The camera guy moves beside Sam, who it's revealed has taken refuge behind a large metal crate. Focusing in on the action, the camera catches the guard who is still upright take a swing. The large man catches his arm, twisting it and forcing him to drop the weapon. He wraps an arm around his head, pulling him into a front facelock, and then knees him in the side of his head, knocking him clean out. The guard slumps to the ground, faceplanting hard.
The grounded guard scrambles up and charges, only for the large man to sidestep and use the guard’s own momentum to throw him into the wall. With the large man's back turned, Sam hands the microphone to the camera guy.
SAM YOUNG: Now’s my chance, I've got this!
CAMERA GUY: Wait, Sam-
A sudden burst of speed (and, perhaps, sheer stupidity) sees Sam hop over the crate, running and yelling. He soars through the air, landing a kick squarely into the large man's back. The kick's impact is...negatable.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh no!
BRAD STOKES: That's exactly what I'm gonna do to my enemies, Nina.
The man turns, a black and white mask visible beneath his hood. Sam attempts a roundhouse kick, but the man steps back and the kick hits nothing but thin air. As Sam lands back on his feet, the large man reaches out, hand gripping his shirt and easily lifting him up into the air. The camera gets a good look at Sam's terrified face as he peers down at this unknown assailant. The masked man looks up, shaking his head, thumping Sam square in the jaw with his free hand and then effortlessly tossing him aside.
Just like the guard earlier, Sam slides across the floor on his back. He looks up, holding his bottom jaw and lets out a huge breath of relief when the masked man simply turns and walks away, further into the arena. The feed ends as the camera guy runs out to see if Sam's still alive.
The Solomons VS. Blue Impulse
BRAD STOKES: Is that guy Skeletor?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Why don't you go ask him?
BRAD STOKES: Well, I would, but my presence is too valuable here.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Coward.
BRAD STOKES: What of it?
In the ring, the match is in progress with Hunter Storms luring Duke Solomon after him as Hunter moves in quick reverse to make the bigger adversary follow him into the Blue Impulse corner.
NINA APPLEBAUM: In the ring, meanwhile, Blue Impulse has made a strategy of avoiding contact with big Duke Solomon at all costs!
BRAD STOKES: Remember last match when Duke slammed Aoki Zombie through the announce table? I think Hunter and Hanzo decided, pre-match, and strategically, that they wanted to avoid that.
NINA APPEBAUM: A cunning strategy.
Duke makes a quick lunge for Hunter who deftly slips under Duke’s massive forearms, winds up behind Duke and plants a stiff kick into Duke’s back that staggers the big man. Hunter maintains the pressure by applying repeated kicks to keep Duke’s back to him and planted in the corner. Duke furiously turns around and slams a back elbow into Storms that staggers him backwards.
NINA APPLEBAUM: The strategy can’t always pay off. Duke Solomon lands a stiff elbow!
Hunter gathers his bearings in time to narrowly duck Duke Solomon’s slow, but steady charge and transfers it into a drop-toe hold that slams Duke’s face off the canvas. Hunter is quick to his feet to drop an elbow into Duke’s back before rising rapidly once more and makes the tag with Hanzo!
BRAD STOKES: Doing damage to Duke Solomon seems impossible. These two are delaying the inevitable fury here.
Hanzo lands a series of kicks to Duke’s side before forcing Duke onto his back then drops an impressive moonsault into a pin!
1…
Duke basically throws Hanzo off of him!
BRAD STOKES: That’s power right there!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Darcy barely flinched at the pin attempt.
BRAD STOKES: Because she realizes her brother’s got this on the lockdown, Nina.
Hanzo is on his feet, but so is Duke who unleashes a huge haymaker that knocks the Dragon backwards into a near-tailspin! Duke gives a quick surge of motion and sends Hanzo reeling over the ropes to the outside with a clothesline!
NINA APPLEBAUM: All power and durability may be too much of a match for Hanzo and Hunter.
Duke slides is cautiously summoned by Darcy Solomon back to the corner where he tags her in. Meanwhile, Hanzo rises to his feet in time to be greeted by a baseball slide by Darcy that knocks Hanzo back into the guard rail but doesn’t fell him! Darcy uses the ropes to slingshot over and into Hanzo for a crossbody that Hanzo catches and swiftly dumps Darcy onto her back on the concrete with a spinning slam!
BRAD STOKES: Nicely re-oriented there by Hanzo. I tell you, it’s a lot easier to do that on Darcy Solomon than the big guy they’ve been fighting this entire time.
1!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And there’s the count!
Hanzo goes to work with a series of stomps to keep Darcy down before he stands her up and whips her towards the ring where she rolls inside. Hanzo follows her in. Darcy, already getting to her feet, is met with a stiff side kick from Hunter through the ropes followed by a forearm smash to Darcy’s throat that staggers the smaller woman.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Don’t think the ref saw that!
BRAD STOKES: But Hanzo sure did.
Now in the ring, Hanzo admonishes Hunter while Darcy catches her breath and charges Hanzo! Hanzo leap frogs her, letting Darcy slam into the corner where Hunter quickly grabs her in a choke hold!
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t think Theo Refano can see it!
BRAD STOKES: But Hanzo doesn’t want anything to do with that! What a pussy.
On the other side of the ring, Duke steps through the ropes seemingly angered at Hunter Storms’ actions!
BRAD STOKES: Here we go!
Duke strides across the ring towards Hanzo, whose back is turned. Hunter points him out to Hanzo before Duke can make contact! Hanzo back sommersaults as Duke takes a vicious looking swipe for Hanzo but comes up slamming his fist into Darcy.
BRAD STOKES: Aw shucks, he’s killed his sister.
Hunter lets go of Darcy who drops like a sack of bricks as Duke stares seemingly in shock at his fallen sister! Theo Refano gets into Dukes face to usher him back to his corner!
NINA APPLEBAUM: It’s a wonder Duke’s going quietly after that mistaken strike.
Duke is backed into his corner, forced to watch Hunter Storms lay a brutal set of stomps onto the fallen and prone form of Darcy as Hanzo urges Hunter to lay off! Hunter stands Darcy up, mindful of Theo Refano needlessly explaining the rules of a tag team match to Duke Solomon whose ire is raising as he watches Hunter and Hanzo set Darcy up in a back-to-back double underhook pile driver/ belly to back pile driver! And SLAM down on Darcy!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Ganryu Island Drop!!
BRAD STOKES: Bless you.
Hunter quickly slides under the ropes and out of the ring as Theo Refano turns to see Hanzo make the cover!
1…
2…
BRAD STOKES: Duke’s gonna break the cover up!
3!!
DING! DING! DING!
Hanzo slides out of the ring in a hurry as Duke makes it seconds too late to break up the pin!
“No Scared” by ONE OK ROCK kicks onto the speakers as Hunter and Hanzo back their way up the ramp eyeing the Solomons in the ring!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Not a pretty win by any means, but a win nonetheless!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: And your winner….. BLUE….. IMPULLLLLLLSSSSE!
BRAD STOKES: Got the job done, didn’t they?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I suppose they did. A disappointing showing for the Solomons tonight.
BRAD STOKES: They’re losers. I want to talk about winners. Speaking of, I hear we got a couple of winners backstage right now trying to do something.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Your segue ability is growing by the show, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: I learned from the best. His name is Dave in IT from Oregon. Fantastic segues. Hey Dave!
The cameras cut backstage.
Amidst the “cost-saving” measures enacted by one Thomas Shane Elliot, many competitors seeking valuable camera time with one of the AWE’s broadcast journalists are left scratching their heads -- as it’s been extremely difficult to bribe the remaining camera crew to stream an interview in the midst of hostile labor protests.
However, some of the talent have taken it in stride: implementing a less-traditional approach to the backstage “tough talk” segments while still trying to maintain a sense of professionalism. Making do with what they have, and providing entertaining segues in between all of the exciting action that the Alpha Wrestling Empire has to offer.
“Maintaining professionalism” may not be the best way to describe our current scene.
The opening shot zooms in to reveal a piece of yellow construction paper with the words “AWE KOOL ZONE” scribbled in black crayon. There are also some stars and horribly drawn pictures of smiling cat faces, as well as a little house with a chimney to the far right for whatever reason. On the upper left corner appears to be a crude interpretation of a mountain, but we’re immediately corrected with the word “ICE BERG” written above it and an arrow pointing down to the structure.
As we pan out, there is nothing in the area but a white-washed brick wall. Moments pass, and we are then treated with the appearance of rookie Hubert Smalls -- a hand pushing him out into the shot. Hubert is dressed in what appears to be his best attempt at “backstage interviewer” attire: a lime-green sport coat that is about three sizes too big for him, a tuxedo T-shirt underneath the jacket, and his wrestling tights/boots. C-minus for effort, I suppose.
In his hand of course is a microphone. Well, kind of. It is a long, thin Price is Right style microphone that likely isn’t a real microphone. It actually looks like a car antenna with a cotton ball glued to the end.
Upon closer inspection, it IS a car antenna with a cotton ball glued to the end. However, this certainly won’t stop the somewhat dim Smalls, who clears his throat and nervously addresses the AWE audience.
HUBERT SMALLS: Hey y’all, um...welcome to the uh…
Hubert turns around in panic, forgetting the name of the very segment he is supposed to host.
HUBERT SMALLS: Cool Zone. I have a special guest who is my friend and also cool, because it’s the Cool Zone and that’s what we got in the Cool Zone. So uh…
VOICE FROM BEHIND THE VIEW: Introduce me!
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh...here is Bang Bang Bindy! And also Tail Earnhardt, my kit-cat.
We hear some fumbling in the background as Bindy does not immediately make her way into the scene. What we are treated to first is the sound of “Pump Up the Jam” by Technotronic in mid-chorus. Only then does B3 appear, holding Tail Earnhardt upright and “assisting” the feline in performing a dance in tune to the beat. She smiles at the camera and at Hubie. Hubie returns the gesture by looking blankly as the music continues to blast.
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh, should I turn that off?
BANG BANG BINDY: Please?
Hubert walks off-camera. However, despite some rustling, he is unable to figure out how to turn off the boombox.
HUBERT SMALLS (off-scene): I don’t know how…
BANG BANG BINDY: Just bring it here.
Professional.
Finally, after effectively shutting down the 80s hit that was very much robbed of a Grammy, things seem to be in order. Carefully placing down the valuable antique Sony BassThumper xL, the Kool Zone takes us into chill mode, and the scene narrator is punched in the mouth for horrible use of wordplay.
HUBERT SMALLS: Thenks. Um...my first question is, uh...remember that time you fought Dare Clemmens?
Keeping in stride, Hubert holds the microphone up to Bindy. Almost expected, he completely misses the mark due to his shyness and the cotton ball nearly goes up her left nostril. He quickly corrects the mistake and brings it back down to the proper level.
BANG BANG BINDY: That...that’s actually happening later tonight.
HUBERT SMALLS: Dangit. Maybe you should just talk for a minute.
The young woman who had been all too happy to take Hubert up on his invitation to the Kool Zone nodded in agreement. It was painfully obvious to her that hosting this talk show of sorts wasn’t the easiest thing for the man, so she was trying to be as accommodating as possible. In her hands she still held onto Hubert’s friend and manager, Tail Earnhardt, scratching the feline on the head between his ears.
BANG BANG BINDY: Well, all things considered this match is shaping up to be perhaps my favorite so far in AWE. Dare is a really fun opponent and he’s certainly made me think and work my very hardest. It’s really great to be able to go up against an opponent you respect and that respects you. I think because of that our match is really going to be something special tonight.
While a very nice sentiment, there is another guest who wants to have his input. Bindy lifts the cat in front of her face, and we hear a squeaky Screech Powers-like voice that sounds A LITTLE LIKE Bindy herself, but we can’t be too sure of that...as it may very well be the actual voice of…
TAIL EARNHARDT: Yeah, but he’s a grown man that plays with toys in his interviews! What a dork!
As many people are likely not fooled by what just happened, well…
HUBERT SMALLS: Tail! Don’t say no mean stuff about no one. You play with toys too.
Bindy directs the cat’s view towards Hubie, responding.
TAIL EARNHARDT: I’m three years old!
BANG BANG BINDY: Now while I don’t really know about the legitimacy of the Bend Me Bindy figure that Dare had delivered to him, I do think it’s the thought that counts. Because, I have to admit after I thought about Dare having a doll made of me I started to get a little worried that it might be a different kind of doll.
She started to laugh, but when her eyes glanced over to Hubert she started to realize that maybe he might not know exactly what she was talking about. While she kept a smile on her face, Bindy swallowed hard, her throat bulging a bit hoping she wouldn’t have to explain it. Or at the very least, she could make their furry friend do the awkward explaining.
TAIL EARNHARDT: He probably needs one after being rejected at that fancy establishment! But hey, what do I know? I got no balls!
HUBERT SMALLS: TAIL EARNHARDT, watch your language, we on TV!
TAIL EARNHARDT: Well, it’s true! You’re the one who took me to that butcher shop! And that’s not a bad word! Balls balls balls balls balls balls…
Hubert, desperately trying to maintain his journalistic credibility (while still trying to come to terms that his cat is apparently a dirtier version of Garfield) proceeds to clear his throat and put the phony microphone back to his lips.
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh...movin’ on. Bindy, if you end up winnin’ tonight, a lot of folks say you are probably up in the running for a Re-sillyants title shot against Zack Montanya. I guess that might be some pressure, I reckon?
BANG BANG BINDY: Are folks really saying that?
This was news to her, as one could tell my the mix of emotions that swirled across her face as she contemplated it.
BANG BANG BINDY: I mean … That would be great, I think Zack and I had a heck of a match before and I was this close to besting him in the Alpha Cup, but I can’t be getting ahead of myself. If I start worrying about all the matches I could have I don’t think I’d have enough time to concentrate on the one right in front of me.
Though it seemed as though Hubert might have planted that seed in her mind without meaning to do so.
TAIL EARNHARDT: I’m a Fantana Fanatic myself!
Both Bindy and Hubert shoot him...a cat...a look of surprise. However, it was merely a setup.
TAIL EARNHARDT: We have our FANtana FAN Club meetings in a sandbox and ALL of the Fanatics are there! My dinner from yesterday, my dinner from the day before, my dinner from the day before that…
HUBERT SMALLS: Stop that!
BANG BANG BINDY: Uhhh, but like I was saying, if that’s the truth, that’s great. I think given another shot I could give Zack an even bigger challenge than I did, but for now I’m keeping my mind on Dare and whatever he’s going to bring to the table. What about you, Hubert? You have a match tonight too!
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh...yeah I reckon. I know last time out I got a little bit distracted, but I think I gotta good chance against the Archangel. ‘SPECIALLY if a certain cat keeps actin’ up, I’ll leave him with you so I ain’t gotta worry about him.
TAIL EARNHARDT: Pssh! I’ll go stay with Unky Brad then! He lets me drink beer and pick up chicks!
HUBERT SMALLS: NO HE DON’T. And you ain’t stayin’ with Brad Stokes!
TAIL EARNHARDT: Fine! I hear they’re looking for a soprano in the Francis Ford Cuppolas! I’ll go join THEM!
HUBERT SMALLS: You know dern well you can’t sing or do the hip-hops.
TAIL EARNHARDT: Uh, shows what YOU know. Check out this sick phat funky fresh groove!
Slyly, Bindy holds Tail up with one hand and retrieves a pair of tiny sunglasses from her pocket, slipping them onto the feline (who is surprisingly not trying to claw the hell out of everything.) It is then followed by a tiny baseball cap, which is placed on Tail’s head backwards. Hubert, in the meantime, is in awe of the transition despite it happening in front of his very eyes.
I eat tuna fish all the live long day
Straight outta the vet and you know I’m ready
I don’t want none of Ana Hayden’s nasty ol’ spaghetti!
DANNNNNNNG BOYEEEEEEEE!
As a final parting shot, Bindy adjusts T.E.’s front legs in a cross-pose. She then turns to Hubert and shrugs her shoulders.
BANG BANG BINDY: That wasn’t bad, you have to admit.
HUBERT SMALLS: *looking at Tail* We need ta talk…
Bindy hands over the incredibly gifted cat to Hubert, who then proceeds to carry him off camera. She turns back to the viewing audience and gives a wink, then we fade.
However, some of the talent have taken it in stride: implementing a less-traditional approach to the backstage “tough talk” segments while still trying to maintain a sense of professionalism. Making do with what they have, and providing entertaining segues in between all of the exciting action that the Alpha Wrestling Empire has to offer.
“Maintaining professionalism” may not be the best way to describe our current scene.
The opening shot zooms in to reveal a piece of yellow construction paper with the words “AWE KOOL ZONE” scribbled in black crayon. There are also some stars and horribly drawn pictures of smiling cat faces, as well as a little house with a chimney to the far right for whatever reason. On the upper left corner appears to be a crude interpretation of a mountain, but we’re immediately corrected with the word “ICE BERG” written above it and an arrow pointing down to the structure.
As we pan out, there is nothing in the area but a white-washed brick wall. Moments pass, and we are then treated with the appearance of rookie Hubert Smalls -- a hand pushing him out into the shot. Hubert is dressed in what appears to be his best attempt at “backstage interviewer” attire: a lime-green sport coat that is about three sizes too big for him, a tuxedo T-shirt underneath the jacket, and his wrestling tights/boots. C-minus for effort, I suppose.
In his hand of course is a microphone. Well, kind of. It is a long, thin Price is Right style microphone that likely isn’t a real microphone. It actually looks like a car antenna with a cotton ball glued to the end.
Upon closer inspection, it IS a car antenna with a cotton ball glued to the end. However, this certainly won’t stop the somewhat dim Smalls, who clears his throat and nervously addresses the AWE audience.
HUBERT SMALLS: Hey y’all, um...welcome to the uh…
Hubert turns around in panic, forgetting the name of the very segment he is supposed to host.
HUBERT SMALLS: Cool Zone. I have a special guest who is my friend and also cool, because it’s the Cool Zone and that’s what we got in the Cool Zone. So uh…
VOICE FROM BEHIND THE VIEW: Introduce me!
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh...here is Bang Bang Bindy! And also Tail Earnhardt, my kit-cat.
We hear some fumbling in the background as Bindy does not immediately make her way into the scene. What we are treated to first is the sound of “Pump Up the Jam” by Technotronic in mid-chorus. Only then does B3 appear, holding Tail Earnhardt upright and “assisting” the feline in performing a dance in tune to the beat. She smiles at the camera and at Hubie. Hubie returns the gesture by looking blankly as the music continues to blast.
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh, should I turn that off?
BANG BANG BINDY: Please?
Hubert walks off-camera. However, despite some rustling, he is unable to figure out how to turn off the boombox.
HUBERT SMALLS (off-scene): I don’t know how…
BANG BANG BINDY: Just bring it here.
Professional.
Finally, after effectively shutting down the 80s hit that was very much robbed of a Grammy, things seem to be in order. Carefully placing down the valuable antique Sony BassThumper xL, the Kool Zone takes us into chill mode, and the scene narrator is punched in the mouth for horrible use of wordplay.
HUBERT SMALLS: Thenks. Um...my first question is, uh...remember that time you fought Dare Clemmens?
Keeping in stride, Hubert holds the microphone up to Bindy. Almost expected, he completely misses the mark due to his shyness and the cotton ball nearly goes up her left nostril. He quickly corrects the mistake and brings it back down to the proper level.
BANG BANG BINDY: That...that’s actually happening later tonight.
HUBERT SMALLS: Dangit. Maybe you should just talk for a minute.
The young woman who had been all too happy to take Hubert up on his invitation to the Kool Zone nodded in agreement. It was painfully obvious to her that hosting this talk show of sorts wasn’t the easiest thing for the man, so she was trying to be as accommodating as possible. In her hands she still held onto Hubert’s friend and manager, Tail Earnhardt, scratching the feline on the head between his ears.
BANG BANG BINDY: Well, all things considered this match is shaping up to be perhaps my favorite so far in AWE. Dare is a really fun opponent and he’s certainly made me think and work my very hardest. It’s really great to be able to go up against an opponent you respect and that respects you. I think because of that our match is really going to be something special tonight.
While a very nice sentiment, there is another guest who wants to have his input. Bindy lifts the cat in front of her face, and we hear a squeaky Screech Powers-like voice that sounds A LITTLE LIKE Bindy herself, but we can’t be too sure of that...as it may very well be the actual voice of…
TAIL EARNHARDT: Yeah, but he’s a grown man that plays with toys in his interviews! What a dork!
As many people are likely not fooled by what just happened, well…
HUBERT SMALLS: Tail! Don’t say no mean stuff about no one. You play with toys too.
Bindy directs the cat’s view towards Hubie, responding.
TAIL EARNHARDT: I’m three years old!
BANG BANG BINDY: Now while I don’t really know about the legitimacy of the Bend Me Bindy figure that Dare had delivered to him, I do think it’s the thought that counts. Because, I have to admit after I thought about Dare having a doll made of me I started to get a little worried that it might be a different kind of doll.
She started to laugh, but when her eyes glanced over to Hubert she started to realize that maybe he might not know exactly what she was talking about. While she kept a smile on her face, Bindy swallowed hard, her throat bulging a bit hoping she wouldn’t have to explain it. Or at the very least, she could make their furry friend do the awkward explaining.
TAIL EARNHARDT: He probably needs one after being rejected at that fancy establishment! But hey, what do I know? I got no balls!
HUBERT SMALLS: TAIL EARNHARDT, watch your language, we on TV!
TAIL EARNHARDT: Well, it’s true! You’re the one who took me to that butcher shop! And that’s not a bad word! Balls balls balls balls balls balls…
Hubert, desperately trying to maintain his journalistic credibility (while still trying to come to terms that his cat is apparently a dirtier version of Garfield) proceeds to clear his throat and put the phony microphone back to his lips.
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh...movin’ on. Bindy, if you end up winnin’ tonight, a lot of folks say you are probably up in the running for a Re-sillyants title shot against Zack Montanya. I guess that might be some pressure, I reckon?
BANG BANG BINDY: Are folks really saying that?
This was news to her, as one could tell my the mix of emotions that swirled across her face as she contemplated it.
BANG BANG BINDY: I mean … That would be great, I think Zack and I had a heck of a match before and I was this close to besting him in the Alpha Cup, but I can’t be getting ahead of myself. If I start worrying about all the matches I could have I don’t think I’d have enough time to concentrate on the one right in front of me.
Though it seemed as though Hubert might have planted that seed in her mind without meaning to do so.
TAIL EARNHARDT: I’m a Fantana Fanatic myself!
Both Bindy and Hubert shoot him...a cat...a look of surprise. However, it was merely a setup.
TAIL EARNHARDT: We have our FANtana FAN Club meetings in a sandbox and ALL of the Fanatics are there! My dinner from yesterday, my dinner from the day before, my dinner from the day before that…
HUBERT SMALLS: Stop that!
BANG BANG BINDY: Uhhh, but like I was saying, if that’s the truth, that’s great. I think given another shot I could give Zack an even bigger challenge than I did, but for now I’m keeping my mind on Dare and whatever he’s going to bring to the table. What about you, Hubert? You have a match tonight too!
HUBERT SMALLS: Uh...yeah I reckon. I know last time out I got a little bit distracted, but I think I gotta good chance against the Archangel. ‘SPECIALLY if a certain cat keeps actin’ up, I’ll leave him with you so I ain’t gotta worry about him.
TAIL EARNHARDT: Pssh! I’ll go stay with Unky Brad then! He lets me drink beer and pick up chicks!
HUBERT SMALLS: NO HE DON’T. And you ain’t stayin’ with Brad Stokes!
TAIL EARNHARDT: Fine! I hear they’re looking for a soprano in the Francis Ford Cuppolas! I’ll go join THEM!
HUBERT SMALLS: You know dern well you can’t sing or do the hip-hops.
TAIL EARNHARDT: Uh, shows what YOU know. Check out this sick phat funky fresh groove!
Slyly, Bindy holds Tail up with one hand and retrieves a pair of tiny sunglasses from her pocket, slipping them onto the feline (who is surprisingly not trying to claw the hell out of everything.) It is then followed by a tiny baseball cap, which is placed on Tail’s head backwards. Hubert, in the meantime, is in awe of the transition despite it happening in front of his very eyes.
TAIL EARNHARDT:
Well...my name is Tail and I’m here to sayI eat tuna fish all the live long day
Straight outta the vet and you know I’m ready
I don’t want none of Ana Hayden’s nasty ol’ spaghetti!
DANNNNNNNG BOYEEEEEEEE!
As a final parting shot, Bindy adjusts T.E.’s front legs in a cross-pose. She then turns to Hubert and shrugs her shoulders.
BANG BANG BINDY: That wasn’t bad, you have to admit.
HUBERT SMALLS: *looking at Tail* We need ta talk…
Bindy hands over the incredibly gifted cat to Hubert, who then proceeds to carry him off camera. She turns back to the viewing audience and gives a wink, then we fade.
Hubert Smalls VS. Cameron "Archangel" Blake
NINA APPLEBAUM: Always refreshing to see the AWE roster team up.
BRAD STOKES: Those beats stunk, Nina. I need that cat by my side.
NINA APPLEBAUM: LEAVE. THE CAT. ALONE!
BRAD STOKES: FINE! FINE! Just thought I could use a new commentary partner.
NINA APPLEBAUM: BRADLEY!
Cameron Blake and Hubert Smalls begin a slow, methodical circle of one another in the ring before going for a tie-up that winds up with Cameron dropping Hubert hard with a snap mare takedown!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And with that we begin round 2 for Cameron Blake and Hubert Smalls. Last Massacre these two were involved in a three-way match also involving Jessie Roberts. The higher ups in the booking committee chose to give them a chance to go one on one after Bradley decided to distract Hubert.
BRAD STOKES: I was looking after the cat. That’s all I was doing. Call animal rights why don’t you? “waaaaah, Brad Stokes petted a cat on teevee, waaaaaaaaah”. Fruitcakes. I don’t see anyone raising a single fuss when they found out Thirteen was dead.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She’s not dead! She’s recovering in—
BRAD STOKES: Chick gets hit with a bat and its business as usual. I pet a cat through a set of bars and the world loses its mind. I’m not a bad man. I love cats. My favorite animal is the Ocelot for Ana’s sakes. I want reparations. For this and every other slight I’ve endured. ESPECIALLY the shit with Dom Lawson.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You know as well as I do that’s only going downhill.
BRAD STOKES: And it eats me up inside, Nina.
Cameron Blake has gone to work with a speedy offense that has Hubert having difficulty keeping up! Several irish whips into tilt-a-whirl backbreakers have Hubert out of breath as Cameron Blake runs the ropes and drops a moonsault onto Hubert!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And the cover!
1…
TW—
BRAD STOKES: Kickout by the Hub-ster. Damn, I miss that cat. Did you know it could talk like that? So eloquent.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Just call the match, Bradley.
Cameron Blake goes to work with further offense before Hubert catches a break, blocking a series of intended strikes and turning the final attempt into an arm drag!
BRAD STOKES: And the cover by Hubert Smalls. Makes no sense to do this now, but I love it cause I’m just calling the match like stupid Nina asked!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Without the sarcasm, please?
ON--
NINA APPLEBAUM: Barely a one count there for Hubert Smalls.
BRAD STOKES: He went for a pin after an arm drag, Nina. He should let the cat wrestle.
Cameron Blake, on his way to his feet lays into Hubert with a few knife edge chops but finally Hubert mounts some offense, working one of Cameron’s arms and applying a deft hammerlock before slamming Blake down in a suplex!
BRAD STOKES: There we go!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He’s going to need more than that to keep down Cameron Blake!
Blake is quick to roll aside as Hubert climbs to his feet only to be distracted by the sound of Mya Audrey Carter taunting him, giving Blake time to use the ropes to rise to his feet and clothesline Hubert down to the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Cameron Blake’s disciple seems to be a key to his success!
BRAD STOKES: Now you’re just being cynical.
Cameron aims an elbow into Smalls’ back but Hubert rolls out of the way and gives Cameron Blake a stiff kick to the chin for good measure and clamors to his feet in time to be met by knife-edge chops by Cameron Blake! Blake backs Hubert into the ropes with the chops before aiming to irish whip Hubert across the ring only this time Hubert reverses the attempt and whips Cameron Blake for the corner where he hits hard and slams Cameron Blake down with a back body drop on the rebound!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Hubert Smalls looks to be taking control of this match right now!
BRAD STOKES: What if I distract him, Nina? What then? They’d lock me up, you know that? Meanwhile, Dom Lawson’s walking around with his stupid hat and no one’s doing anything.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You’re going to need to let it go, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: I’m not paying for that door!
Hubert has stomped down onto Cameron Blake, and miraculously maintained his focus while Mya Carter slings insults at Hubert! Cameron Blake is on his feet but Hubert has him set up for a tiger driver!
BRAD STOKES: And down Cameron Blake goes!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And the cover by Hubert Smalls!
1…
2…
3!!!
“Let’s Hear it For the Boy” by Deniece Williams kicks in as Hubert happily hops to his feet and celebrates!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… HUBERT… SMALLLLLLLS!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nicely done, and Hubert Smalls who has secured his first victory in the AWE with that win.
BRAD STOKES: Without Tail Earnhardt it’s meaningless. My life is over, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: However you want to make this about you, it’s a big win for Hubert Smalls.
BRAD STOKES: My only consolation at this point is the fact I hear that masked guy nearly killed Sam Young. Gonna see some death here, Nina. I need it. For my soul.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t know about that, but it’s true. The mysterious figure we witnessed earlier beating down AWE Backstage Interviewer Sam Young has done some serious damage to Sam. We bring you there now as medics check on him.
BRAD STOKES: Those beats stunk, Nina. I need that cat by my side.
NINA APPLEBAUM: LEAVE. THE CAT. ALONE!
BRAD STOKES: FINE! FINE! Just thought I could use a new commentary partner.
NINA APPLEBAUM: BRADLEY!
DING! DING! DING!
Cameron Blake and Hubert Smalls begin a slow, methodical circle of one another in the ring before going for a tie-up that winds up with Cameron dropping Hubert hard with a snap mare takedown!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And with that we begin round 2 for Cameron Blake and Hubert Smalls. Last Massacre these two were involved in a three-way match also involving Jessie Roberts. The higher ups in the booking committee chose to give them a chance to go one on one after Bradley decided to distract Hubert.
BRAD STOKES: I was looking after the cat. That’s all I was doing. Call animal rights why don’t you? “waaaaah, Brad Stokes petted a cat on teevee, waaaaaaaaah”. Fruitcakes. I don’t see anyone raising a single fuss when they found out Thirteen was dead.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She’s not dead! She’s recovering in—
BRAD STOKES: Chick gets hit with a bat and its business as usual. I pet a cat through a set of bars and the world loses its mind. I’m not a bad man. I love cats. My favorite animal is the Ocelot for Ana’s sakes. I want reparations. For this and every other slight I’ve endured. ESPECIALLY the shit with Dom Lawson.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You know as well as I do that’s only going downhill.
BRAD STOKES: And it eats me up inside, Nina.
Cameron Blake has gone to work with a speedy offense that has Hubert having difficulty keeping up! Several irish whips into tilt-a-whirl backbreakers have Hubert out of breath as Cameron Blake runs the ropes and drops a moonsault onto Hubert!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And the cover!
1…
TW—
BRAD STOKES: Kickout by the Hub-ster. Damn, I miss that cat. Did you know it could talk like that? So eloquent.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Just call the match, Bradley.
Cameron Blake goes to work with further offense before Hubert catches a break, blocking a series of intended strikes and turning the final attempt into an arm drag!
BRAD STOKES: And the cover by Hubert Smalls. Makes no sense to do this now, but I love it cause I’m just calling the match like stupid Nina asked!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Without the sarcasm, please?
ON--
NINA APPLEBAUM: Barely a one count there for Hubert Smalls.
BRAD STOKES: He went for a pin after an arm drag, Nina. He should let the cat wrestle.
Cameron Blake, on his way to his feet lays into Hubert with a few knife edge chops but finally Hubert mounts some offense, working one of Cameron’s arms and applying a deft hammerlock before slamming Blake down in a suplex!
BRAD STOKES: There we go!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He’s going to need more than that to keep down Cameron Blake!
Blake is quick to roll aside as Hubert climbs to his feet only to be distracted by the sound of Mya Audrey Carter taunting him, giving Blake time to use the ropes to rise to his feet and clothesline Hubert down to the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Cameron Blake’s disciple seems to be a key to his success!
BRAD STOKES: Now you’re just being cynical.
Cameron aims an elbow into Smalls’ back but Hubert rolls out of the way and gives Cameron Blake a stiff kick to the chin for good measure and clamors to his feet in time to be met by knife-edge chops by Cameron Blake! Blake backs Hubert into the ropes with the chops before aiming to irish whip Hubert across the ring only this time Hubert reverses the attempt and whips Cameron Blake for the corner where he hits hard and slams Cameron Blake down with a back body drop on the rebound!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Hubert Smalls looks to be taking control of this match right now!
BRAD STOKES: What if I distract him, Nina? What then? They’d lock me up, you know that? Meanwhile, Dom Lawson’s walking around with his stupid hat and no one’s doing anything.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You’re going to need to let it go, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: I’m not paying for that door!
Hubert has stomped down onto Cameron Blake, and miraculously maintained his focus while Mya Carter slings insults at Hubert! Cameron Blake is on his feet but Hubert has him set up for a tiger driver!
BRAD STOKES: And down Cameron Blake goes!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And the cover by Hubert Smalls!
1…
2…
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
“Let’s Hear it For the Boy” by Deniece Williams kicks in as Hubert happily hops to his feet and celebrates!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… HUBERT… SMALLLLLLLS!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nicely done, and Hubert Smalls who has secured his first victory in the AWE with that win.
BRAD STOKES: Without Tail Earnhardt it’s meaningless. My life is over, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: However you want to make this about you, it’s a big win for Hubert Smalls.
BRAD STOKES: My only consolation at this point is the fact I hear that masked guy nearly killed Sam Young. Gonna see some death here, Nina. I need it. For my soul.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t know about that, but it’s true. The mysterious figure we witnessed earlier beating down AWE Backstage Interviewer Sam Young has done some serious damage to Sam. We bring you there now as medics check on him.
The cameras head backstage again, and this time are greeted by the sight of Sam Young receiving medical treatment following the attack earlier in the night. Sam hisses and groans as the medic rolls a bandage around his forehead, his hand seemingly glued to his bottom jaw. Quite when he hurt his forehead is anyone’s guess, but Sam appears to be enjoying the attractive young lady giving him attention.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well on the plus side he’s alive.
BRAD STOKES: I honestly won't be very choked up if Sam dies.
As sam appears to peer down her top, there is a commotion from outside and he springs up, knocking the medic from her seat and sending her down to the ground. He quickly kneels to check on her. She nods, sitting up, and a smile of relief forms on his lips.
SAM YOUNG: I’m so sorry.
MEDIC: It’s okay, honest, I’m fine.
SAM YOUNG: I thought I heard something but...maybe I’m just jumpy. Fighting that big guy off earlier took it out of me.
MEDIC: You’re so brave. I can’t wait to hear all-
The door to the room swings open, impaling the knob into the wall with a crunch, kicking out plumes of dust on impact. As footsteps are heard, Sam instinctively closes his eyes and turns back, slowly opening them to find the masked man stood behind him.
SAM YOUNG: Oh f-
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh no, not again.
The masked man reaches down, pulling Sam from the floor with ease.
BRAD STOKES: Is this guy just walking around the arena? This is how doors get broken, Nina. And how I end up footing bills accrued by assholes like Dom Lawson!
MASKED MAN: Where...is...Elliot?
SAM YOUNG: Y-you mean T.S.?
The masked man nods.
SAM YOUNG: He's not here today.
The masked man shakes Sam a little, as if to remind him of the predicament he’s in.
SAM YOUNG: Di-did you check his office?
MASKED MAN: Where is it?
Sam points back out of the room.
SAM YOUNG: On the le-
He gulps down hard.
SAM YOUNG: On the left. Upstairs, second floor...end of corridor.
The masked man looks back to the door.
SAM YOUNG: Please don’t hurt me again?
The man hesitates for a moment and then simply drops Sam. He wordlessly turns, leaving as abruptly as he entered. Sam looks to the medic and appears to faint, dropping into her lap.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well on the plus side he’s alive.
BRAD STOKES: I honestly won't be very choked up if Sam dies.
As sam appears to peer down her top, there is a commotion from outside and he springs up, knocking the medic from her seat and sending her down to the ground. He quickly kneels to check on her. She nods, sitting up, and a smile of relief forms on his lips.
SAM YOUNG: I’m so sorry.
MEDIC: It’s okay, honest, I’m fine.
SAM YOUNG: I thought I heard something but...maybe I’m just jumpy. Fighting that big guy off earlier took it out of me.
MEDIC: You’re so brave. I can’t wait to hear all-
The door to the room swings open, impaling the knob into the wall with a crunch, kicking out plumes of dust on impact. As footsteps are heard, Sam instinctively closes his eyes and turns back, slowly opening them to find the masked man stood behind him.
SAM YOUNG: Oh f-
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh no, not again.
The masked man reaches down, pulling Sam from the floor with ease.
BRAD STOKES: Is this guy just walking around the arena? This is how doors get broken, Nina. And how I end up footing bills accrued by assholes like Dom Lawson!
MASKED MAN: Where...is...Elliot?
SAM YOUNG: Y-you mean T.S.?
The masked man nods.
SAM YOUNG: He's not here today.
The masked man shakes Sam a little, as if to remind him of the predicament he’s in.
SAM YOUNG: Di-did you check his office?
MASKED MAN: Where is it?
Sam points back out of the room.
SAM YOUNG: On the le-
He gulps down hard.
SAM YOUNG: On the left. Upstairs, second floor...end of corridor.
The masked man looks back to the door.
SAM YOUNG: Please don’t hurt me again?
The man hesitates for a moment and then simply drops Sam. He wordlessly turns, leaving as abruptly as he entered. Sam looks to the medic and appears to faint, dropping into her lap.
Candice Turner VS. Sinister Minister
NINA APPLEBAUM: But our COO isn't even in the building!
BRAD STOKES: This guy looks as patient as a cat, Nina.Not as patient as Tail Earnhardt, perhaps, but patient nonetheless! He'll wait. Oh, yes. He'll wait. Or not, I don't really care. Sam Young gave bad interviews. Let the man rot.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, fight fans, I’m not sure what that man wants with Thomas Shane Elliot—
BRAD STOKES: Revenge. Like everyone else.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Possibly. After that, we turn our attention now to this bout between Candy and the Sinister Minister!
Inside the ring, Sinister Minister has managed to back Candy into the corner and proceeded to stomp Candy down into a seated position in the corner before giving her a mean facewash.
BRAD STOKES: Sinister Minister: Cock-blocking American Tommy one female opponent at a time.
American Tommy is definitely discouraging the Minister from his current method of attack. Instead, Sinister Minister drags Candy up to her feet and launch her across the ring in a mean-looking hip toss!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And the Minister goes for a cover!
1…
TW—
BRAD STOKES: Kickout by Candy.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She’s definitely not going without a fight.
BRAD STOKES: I heard Sinister Minister’s not exactly 100%, though, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Quite possibly true. He does seem a bit slower than normal.
The Minister draws Candy up to her feet and aims a stiff backhand that Candy sweiftly ducks beneath and delivers a stiff side kick into Sinister Minister’s side that has the big man reeling in obvious pain.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Hard kick there by Candy!
BRAD STOKES: Something didn’t go right there.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What do you mean?
BRAD STOKES: I mean, in all seriousness, look at Sin… he’s favoring his ribs after that kick. Knocked something loose.
Sinister Minister is clearly wincing and in pain, heavily favoring his ribs. Theo Refano moves in to check on him as Candy moves in after him. Sin manages to turn into Candy and takes another vicious looking swing for Candy but she avoids it again and gingerly sends a shot up into Sinister Minister’s jaw to stun him then DDTs him to the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nice DDT there by Candy!
Moments of Sinister Minister looking to catch his breath as he rises to one knee and eyes Candy who climbs to her feet and hits him with a stiff side kick to keep Sinister Minister on one knee then SLAMS Sinister Minister’s face down into the canvas hard with a foxy buster!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: THE CANDY BLAST! CANDY GOES FOR THE COVER!
1…
2..
3!!
“I Want Candy” By Aaron Carter slams onto the speaker system as Candy celebrates!
NINA APPLEBAUM: nice victory there by Candy!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… CANDICE… TURRRRNNNNEEEEERRR!
As Candy raises her arm in victory, Sinister Minister is helped from the ring by American Tommy who has waved down some medical staff who quickly rush to help prop Sinister Minister up.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Something’s happened to the Minister.
BRAD STOKES: That’s what I just said, Nina. I’m not just a pretty face. I used to wrestle, dammit.
American Tommy helps ring medical technicians brace Sinister Minister as they bring him up the ramp.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Not a great sign to watch, but the show must go on, fans. And Candy gets her first win here in the AWE!
BRAD STOKES: She deserved it. Accidents happen, and it looks like we’ll soon find out.
NINA APPLEBAUM: We’ve got a commercial coming up for you AWEphiles, stay tuned in for more AWE Massacre after these messages.
BRAD STOKES: This guy looks as patient as a cat, Nina.Not as patient as Tail Earnhardt, perhaps, but patient nonetheless! He'll wait. Oh, yes. He'll wait. Or not, I don't really care. Sam Young gave bad interviews. Let the man rot.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, fight fans, I’m not sure what that man wants with Thomas Shane Elliot—
BRAD STOKES: Revenge. Like everyone else.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Possibly. After that, we turn our attention now to this bout between Candy and the Sinister Minister!
Inside the ring, Sinister Minister has managed to back Candy into the corner and proceeded to stomp Candy down into a seated position in the corner before giving her a mean facewash.
BRAD STOKES: Sinister Minister: Cock-blocking American Tommy one female opponent at a time.
American Tommy is definitely discouraging the Minister from his current method of attack. Instead, Sinister Minister drags Candy up to her feet and launch her across the ring in a mean-looking hip toss!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And the Minister goes for a cover!
1…
TW—
BRAD STOKES: Kickout by Candy.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She’s definitely not going without a fight.
BRAD STOKES: I heard Sinister Minister’s not exactly 100%, though, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Quite possibly true. He does seem a bit slower than normal.
The Minister draws Candy up to her feet and aims a stiff backhand that Candy sweiftly ducks beneath and delivers a stiff side kick into Sinister Minister’s side that has the big man reeling in obvious pain.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Hard kick there by Candy!
BRAD STOKES: Something didn’t go right there.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What do you mean?
BRAD STOKES: I mean, in all seriousness, look at Sin… he’s favoring his ribs after that kick. Knocked something loose.
Sinister Minister is clearly wincing and in pain, heavily favoring his ribs. Theo Refano moves in to check on him as Candy moves in after him. Sin manages to turn into Candy and takes another vicious looking swing for Candy but she avoids it again and gingerly sends a shot up into Sinister Minister’s jaw to stun him then DDTs him to the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nice DDT there by Candy!
Moments of Sinister Minister looking to catch his breath as he rises to one knee and eyes Candy who climbs to her feet and hits him with a stiff side kick to keep Sinister Minister on one knee then SLAMS Sinister Minister’s face down into the canvas hard with a foxy buster!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: THE CANDY BLAST! CANDY GOES FOR THE COVER!
1…
2..
3!!
DING! DING! DING!
“I Want Candy” By Aaron Carter slams onto the speaker system as Candy celebrates!
NINA APPLEBAUM: nice victory there by Candy!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… CANDICE… TURRRRNNNNEEEEERRR!
As Candy raises her arm in victory, Sinister Minister is helped from the ring by American Tommy who has waved down some medical staff who quickly rush to help prop Sinister Minister up.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Something’s happened to the Minister.
BRAD STOKES: That’s what I just said, Nina. I’m not just a pretty face. I used to wrestle, dammit.
American Tommy helps ring medical technicians brace Sinister Minister as they bring him up the ramp.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Not a great sign to watch, but the show must go on, fans. And Candy gets her first win here in the AWE!
BRAD STOKES: She deserved it. Accidents happen, and it looks like we’ll soon find out.
NINA APPLEBAUM: We’ve got a commercial coming up for you AWEphiles, stay tuned in for more AWE Massacre after these messages.
Shot of a man seated in repose in a hospital corridor looking contemplative. He investigates the package he holds in his hands.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: My daddy used to wake me up before the sun came up to come on down with him to his gym. Bob’s Gym. Named after my daddy. He said, ‘son, one day this’ll be yours.’
Shot of the kid being woken up in the middle of the night by a warm and loving father. The kid walks adoringly beside his dad as his father ruffles his son’s hair.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: I loved that gym. Like I loved my dad. He always let me help him set up the ring.
Shots of the father and son setting up the wrestling ring.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: The smell and feel of the canvas, the feel of the ropes when stretched to just the right tautness.
Shots of the son looking up to his father as they set up the ring. Warm smiles. Love. The father teaches his son drills, and how to roll and how to tuck his neck just right and how to fall and tumble. Shots back to the man, all grown up now waiting in a hospital corridor holding a package.
HEARTFELT VOICE: My daddy taught me everything. Everything there was to know about the wrestling business. He always told me: “son… remember the presidents of wrestling”
Shots of the kid blinking strangely at his father's words during the drills.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: I never understood my daddy, even through it all.
Now the son is a teenager still learning from his father. Shots of the son growing up as his father grows older, and slowly it becomes more difficult for the father to be as active in the ring.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: My daddy always said that. “Remember the Presidents of Wrestling”, and he meant it.
Shot back to the grown up with his head hanging in the hospital corridor.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: I never did become a wrestler. Just didn’t have it. I guess I ended up with my head too far into computers, and I guess, my daddy never appreciated his son being a nerd like that, but… I never forgot my daddy’s advice….
The son rises off his seat in the hospital corridor and enters the hospital room where his father is laid up in a hospital bed looking weak, sick, and hooked to machines. He smiles when he sees his son and his son moves to embrace him.
SON: Dad… I know I failed you when I didn’t become a wrestler.
The dad hides his disappointment as his son says so.
SON: But I never forgot your lessons, dad. Here…
The son offers the package to his father who looks at him with surprise, and excitement. Like his whole life’s ambitions to raise his son in his image has suddenly paid off. He excitedly opens the package and pulls out…
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: My daddy used to wake me up before the sun came up to come on down with him to his gym. Bob’s Gym. Named after my daddy. He said, ‘son, one day this’ll be yours.’
Shot of the kid being woken up in the middle of the night by a warm and loving father. The kid walks adoringly beside his dad as his father ruffles his son’s hair.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: I loved that gym. Like I loved my dad. He always let me help him set up the ring.
Shots of the father and son setting up the wrestling ring.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: The smell and feel of the canvas, the feel of the ropes when stretched to just the right tautness.
Shots of the son looking up to his father as they set up the ring. Warm smiles. Love. The father teaches his son drills, and how to roll and how to tuck his neck just right and how to fall and tumble. Shots back to the man, all grown up now waiting in a hospital corridor holding a package.
HEARTFELT VOICE: My daddy taught me everything. Everything there was to know about the wrestling business. He always told me: “son… remember the presidents of wrestling”
Shots of the kid blinking strangely at his father's words during the drills.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: I never understood my daddy, even through it all.
Now the son is a teenager still learning from his father. Shots of the son growing up as his father grows older, and slowly it becomes more difficult for the father to be as active in the ring.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: My daddy always said that. “Remember the Presidents of Wrestling”, and he meant it.
Shot back to the grown up with his head hanging in the hospital corridor.
HEARTFELT VOICEOVER: I never did become a wrestler. Just didn’t have it. I guess I ended up with my head too far into computers, and I guess, my daddy never appreciated his son being a nerd like that, but… I never forgot my daddy’s advice….
The son rises off his seat in the hospital corridor and enters the hospital room where his father is laid up in a hospital bed looking weak, sick, and hooked to machines. He smiles when he sees his son and his son moves to embrace him.
SON: Dad… I know I failed you when I didn’t become a wrestler.
The dad hides his disappointment as his son says so.
SON: But I never forgot your lessons, dad. Here…
The son offers the package to his father who looks at him with surprise, and excitement. Like his whole life’s ambitions to raise his son in his image has suddenly paid off. He excitedly opens the package and pulls out…
SON: I did it, Dad. The Presidents of Wrestling. Just like you taught me! It took most of my life, but I made it. For you.
Slowly, his father’s smile turns to a frown, but he's too choked up to say anything.
FATHER: …?
His son blinks and shifts awkwardly where he stands.
SON: Are you proud of me, dad?
A beat of his father glaring at the video game case.
FATHER: I said the PRECEDENCE of Wrestling you idiot! PRECEDENCE. P-R-E-C-E-D-E-N-C-E. Cause it means the world to me! I wanted you to be a wrestler, not a game designer! What the hell is this?!
SON: Oh…
FATHER: What the hell. You never listened to a damned word I said, did you? Presidents of Wrestling?!
SON: It’s got Lyndon Johnson, though. And Jimmy Carter! And new DLC for Donald Trump. D-did you wanna play a few rounds?
The father looks up to his son from his hospital bed with utter disappointment and shakes his head.
A wicked awesome slide along an electric guitar breaks it up and kicks into amazing rocking guitar riffs and rock music!
WICKED AWESOME VOICEOVER: THAT’S RIGHT! THE PRESIDENTS OF WRESTLING ARE HERE! ENJOY: STORY MODE!
Supremely well rendered Computer Generated John F. Kennedy stalks the ring with a microphone in hand while at the top of the ramp an equally impressive CG Barrack Obama glares down at him.
COMPUTER GENERATED JOHN F. KENNEDY: BARRACK, er uh… since you seem to think you’re, er uh, bettah than me….
COMPUTER GENERATED BARRACK OBAMA: Now wait just a minute here, John, wait just a minute—
COMPUTER GENERATED JOHN F. KENNEDY: ER UH I’M NOT FINISHED! SINCE YOU WANT TO, ER UH, CHALLENGE MY PLACE IN HISTORY… TO GET TO ME… YOU’RE, ER UH, GONNA HAVE TO GO THROUGH…. TED KENNEDY!
Behind Barrack Obama Ted Kennedy breaks out from the back and slams a steel chair against Barrack Obama’s head!
COMMENTATOR: BARRACK OBAMA IS GIVING TEDDY KENNEDY THE BARRACK-O-BUSTER!!!!!! AND THE OBAMANATION IS GOING INSANE!!!
WICKED AWESOME VOICE OVER: GENERAL MANAGER MODE!
Kids are playing the game with over-the-top excitement.
KID 1: WHOOOAAAA! IKE EISENHOWER’S GOING TO IMPOSE A 10% TAX ON TAFT’S #1 CONTENDERSHIP!!
KID 2: NIXON STOLE THE BELT!
WICKED AWESOME VOICE OVER: Free Play Mode!
COMPUTER GENERATED ABRAHAM LINCOLN: Fourscore and I'm gonna BEAT YOUR ASS!
WICKED AWESOME VOICEOVER: That’s right! The Presidents of Wrestling is available now on PS4! Buy it now and get exclusive customizable costumes for your favorite presidents! THE PRESIDENTS OF WRESTLING! OWN IT NOW, and OWN history!!!!
Wicked awesome guitar fades!
The scene cuts to ringside where we see Dom DiDona, with a microphone at his side, not dressed to compete tonight, and accompanying his street clothes is a sour look.
The chants from the crowd bring a tweak to the corners of his mouth as he holds up his index finger to his mouth to quiet the crowd and the chants fade out slowly.
DOM DIBONA: I have to admit, when it comes to speaking I’m not as exciting as I am in the ring but –
BRAD STOKES: He's got that right!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Quiet down, Bradley!
BRAD STOKES: Right, sorry! Would hate to interrupt your precious Dom DiBoner!
He takes a deep breath and wipes sweat away from his forehead trying not to let his frustrations show
DOM DIBONA: But when you set out to become a professional wrestler and that gets taken away from you what more can I do? What more can anyone do when their job is taken from them. Right now, at this very moment there’s a crowd of protesters outside who’s voices are not heard. They’ve been barred from this building and all other AWE buildings because their jobs were taken from them by AWE management. And maybe… maybe you guys out here don’t know what’s going on but I’ll tell you.
BRAD STOKES: Please tell me I'm not rooting for this guy right now.
Another deep breath as his speech begins to increase in speed and volume
DOM DIBONA: There’s guys and gals in the back who have no idea what their future holds from show to show. Last Massacre I was supposed to wrestle, no, STEAL the show with Owen and that was taken from us from some lackey of YOUR AWE Paramount Champion. She lurks around the back with a baseball bat and a wolf mask. Ironic because wolves have more GUTS than she does – and now? Now who knows what the future holds for the Paramount Championship match. For all I care you can throw the entire roster in on the match because there’s only one thing I care about and I’ve tried to prevent myself from being this way…
Dom turns his head towards the AWE entrance and points at the ramp as the veins in his shaken, frustrated arms begin to bulge
DOM DIBONA: When I’m given the opportunity I’m going to walk down that ramp and beat the SHIT out of Stoker!
BRAD STOKES: He meant 'poop' for those watching at home.
The AWE-philes erupt into cheers as Dom paces around the ring, unlike the Underdog to use coarse language but we’ve never seen this side of him before
DOM DIBONA: What?! What?! You don’t think I can swear? Does that surprise you? I’m from fucking YOUNGSTOWN OHIO. We’re about as blue collar as the people here in GRAND RAPIDS!!
Playing to the crowd they erupt again and start the chants
DOM DIBONA: You’re GOD DAMN RIGHT DOM DIBONA! You hear this? You hear these people, Stoker? I know it, these people know it, and somewhere deep down inside of you – YOU know it. You became the champion by beating a guy who hasn’t had but a month of wrestling professionally underneath his belt. And when we last met I WRESTLED for the Paramount Championship – but next time… next time I’m going to FIGHT. I’m going to CLAW. I’m going to beat your ass to a bloody PULP! Yeah! And when I do, a lot of SHIT is going to change around here. Those people outside begging for their jobs back I’m going to FIGHT for them. You people here in Grand Rapids, and the AWE-philes around the world, I’m going to FIGHT for you. FIGHT because you deserve a Paramount Champion with some GOD DAMN honor and some RESPECT for this FUCKING business. Something that YOU, Stoker, fail to have found.
Making his way towards the hard camera in the ring Dom scales the corner to the middle turnbuckle and directs his index finger again pointing directly into the shot
DOM DIBONA: SO LISTEN UP Management. I don’t care WHO makes the match. I don’t care WHO is in it. But you better give me the god damn respect of another Paramount Championship match or else next time I’m in this ring I’m bringing Nate Hollis so he can tell the world what’s really going on behind the scenes. I’ll drag every god damn name in that office through the mud and take you all down with me before I take the Paramount Championship. Take back the HONOR in this company. And most importantly… TAKE THE FUCKING DAY!!
BRAD STOKES: I wonder if this chair offers a gun salute or something.
Flipping the mic down from the turnbuckle Dom raises his arms and waves them to pump the crowd up.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Shocking words from Dom DiBona tonight directed at Stoker of all people.
BRAD STOKES: Shocking? Hardly. That man was actually not the real Dom, because the real Dom would never wear regular clothing. That there was a Life Model Decoy.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Whatever you say, Bradley. Fans, we go backstage now to check on Sinister Minister's condition.
Slowly, his father’s smile turns to a frown, but he's too choked up to say anything.
FATHER: …?
His son blinks and shifts awkwardly where he stands.
SON: Are you proud of me, dad?
A beat of his father glaring at the video game case.
FATHER: I said the PRECEDENCE of Wrestling you idiot! PRECEDENCE. P-R-E-C-E-D-E-N-C-E. Cause it means the world to me! I wanted you to be a wrestler, not a game designer! What the hell is this?!
SON: Oh…
FATHER: What the hell. You never listened to a damned word I said, did you? Presidents of Wrestling?!
SON: It’s got Lyndon Johnson, though. And Jimmy Carter! And new DLC for Donald Trump. D-did you wanna play a few rounds?
The father looks up to his son from his hospital bed with utter disappointment and shakes his head.
A wicked awesome slide along an electric guitar breaks it up and kicks into amazing rocking guitar riffs and rock music!
WICKED AWESOME VOICEOVER: THAT’S RIGHT! THE PRESIDENTS OF WRESTLING ARE HERE! ENJOY: STORY MODE!
Supremely well rendered Computer Generated John F. Kennedy stalks the ring with a microphone in hand while at the top of the ramp an equally impressive CG Barrack Obama glares down at him.
COMPUTER GENERATED JOHN F. KENNEDY: BARRACK, er uh… since you seem to think you’re, er uh, bettah than me….
COMPUTER GENERATED BARRACK OBAMA: Now wait just a minute here, John, wait just a minute—
COMPUTER GENERATED JOHN F. KENNEDY: ER UH I’M NOT FINISHED! SINCE YOU WANT TO, ER UH, CHALLENGE MY PLACE IN HISTORY… TO GET TO ME… YOU’RE, ER UH, GONNA HAVE TO GO THROUGH…. TED KENNEDY!
Behind Barrack Obama Ted Kennedy breaks out from the back and slams a steel chair against Barrack Obama’s head!
COMMENTATOR: BARRACK OBAMA IS GIVING TEDDY KENNEDY THE BARRACK-O-BUSTER!!!!!! AND THE OBAMANATION IS GOING INSANE!!!
WICKED AWESOME VOICE OVER: GENERAL MANAGER MODE!
Kids are playing the game with over-the-top excitement.
KID 1: WHOOOAAAA! IKE EISENHOWER’S GOING TO IMPOSE A 10% TAX ON TAFT’S #1 CONTENDERSHIP!!
KID 2: NIXON STOLE THE BELT!
WICKED AWESOME VOICE OVER: Free Play Mode!
COMPUTER GENERATED ABRAHAM LINCOLN: Fourscore and I'm gonna BEAT YOUR ASS!
WICKED AWESOME VOICEOVER: That’s right! The Presidents of Wrestling is available now on PS4! Buy it now and get exclusive customizable costumes for your favorite presidents! THE PRESIDENTS OF WRESTLING! OWN IT NOW, and OWN history!!!!
Wicked awesome guitar fades!
RATED E for EVERYONE.
PLAYSTATION.
PLAYSTATION.
The scene cuts to ringside where we see Dom DiDona, with a microphone at his side, not dressed to compete tonight, and accompanying his street clothes is a sour look.
“DOM-Di-BON-A”
*CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP*
*CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP*
The chants from the crowd bring a tweak to the corners of his mouth as he holds up his index finger to his mouth to quiet the crowd and the chants fade out slowly.
DOM DIBONA: I have to admit, when it comes to speaking I’m not as exciting as I am in the ring but –
BRAD STOKES: He's got that right!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Quiet down, Bradley!
BRAD STOKES: Right, sorry! Would hate to interrupt your precious Dom DiBoner!
He takes a deep breath and wipes sweat away from his forehead trying not to let his frustrations show
DOM DIBONA: But when you set out to become a professional wrestler and that gets taken away from you what more can I do? What more can anyone do when their job is taken from them. Right now, at this very moment there’s a crowd of protesters outside who’s voices are not heard. They’ve been barred from this building and all other AWE buildings because their jobs were taken from them by AWE management. And maybe… maybe you guys out here don’t know what’s going on but I’ll tell you.
BRAD STOKES: Please tell me I'm not rooting for this guy right now.
Another deep breath as his speech begins to increase in speed and volume
DOM DIBONA: There’s guys and gals in the back who have no idea what their future holds from show to show. Last Massacre I was supposed to wrestle, no, STEAL the show with Owen and that was taken from us from some lackey of YOUR AWE Paramount Champion. She lurks around the back with a baseball bat and a wolf mask. Ironic because wolves have more GUTS than she does – and now? Now who knows what the future holds for the Paramount Championship match. For all I care you can throw the entire roster in on the match because there’s only one thing I care about and I’ve tried to prevent myself from being this way…
Dom turns his head towards the AWE entrance and points at the ramp as the veins in his shaken, frustrated arms begin to bulge
DOM DIBONA: When I’m given the opportunity I’m going to walk down that ramp and beat the SHIT out of Stoker!
BRAD STOKES: He meant 'poop' for those watching at home.
The AWE-philes erupt into cheers as Dom paces around the ring, unlike the Underdog to use coarse language but we’ve never seen this side of him before
DOM DIBONA: What?! What?! You don’t think I can swear? Does that surprise you? I’m from fucking YOUNGSTOWN OHIO. We’re about as blue collar as the people here in GRAND RAPIDS!!
Playing to the crowd they erupt again and start the chants
“DOM-Di-BON-A”
*CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP*
“DOM-Di-BON-A”
*CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP*
*CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP*
“DOM-Di-BON-A”
*CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP*
DOM DIBONA: You’re GOD DAMN RIGHT DOM DIBONA! You hear this? You hear these people, Stoker? I know it, these people know it, and somewhere deep down inside of you – YOU know it. You became the champion by beating a guy who hasn’t had but a month of wrestling professionally underneath his belt. And when we last met I WRESTLED for the Paramount Championship – but next time… next time I’m going to FIGHT. I’m going to CLAW. I’m going to beat your ass to a bloody PULP! Yeah! And when I do, a lot of SHIT is going to change around here. Those people outside begging for their jobs back I’m going to FIGHT for them. You people here in Grand Rapids, and the AWE-philes around the world, I’m going to FIGHT for you. FIGHT because you deserve a Paramount Champion with some GOD DAMN honor and some RESPECT for this FUCKING business. Something that YOU, Stoker, fail to have found.
Making his way towards the hard camera in the ring Dom scales the corner to the middle turnbuckle and directs his index finger again pointing directly into the shot
DOM DIBONA: SO LISTEN UP Management. I don’t care WHO makes the match. I don’t care WHO is in it. But you better give me the god damn respect of another Paramount Championship match or else next time I’m in this ring I’m bringing Nate Hollis so he can tell the world what’s really going on behind the scenes. I’ll drag every god damn name in that office through the mud and take you all down with me before I take the Paramount Championship. Take back the HONOR in this company. And most importantly… TAKE THE FUCKING DAY!!
BRAD STOKES: I wonder if this chair offers a gun salute or something.
Flipping the mic down from the turnbuckle Dom raises his arms and waves them to pump the crowd up.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Shocking words from Dom DiBona tonight directed at Stoker of all people.
BRAD STOKES: Shocking? Hardly. That man was actually not the real Dom, because the real Dom would never wear regular clothing. That there was a Life Model Decoy.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Whatever you say, Bradley. Fans, we go backstage now to check on Sinister Minister's condition.
Sinister Minister is shown being surrounded by medical personnel in obvious distress. You can see him breathing heavily and laying on his side. Doctors are trying to work on him, but American Tommy is throwing plastic shooting stars at everyone.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Back up, muggles! Back up!
Hal 10,000's glowing red eye looms in the wall as security shows up
HAL 10,000: That man is injured. Please stand aside. He requires medical attention.
The security guards grab a hold of American Tommy while his attention is turned towards the doctors. They move him out of the way clearing a path for the doctors to check on Sinister Minister.
DOCTOR: Mr. Minister, what's going on?
Sin tries to slide himself up the wall to a sitting position, but he can't the pain is too much.
SINISTER MINISTER: I can't breathe.
The doctor grabs his stethoscope and puts it to Sinister Minister's right side of his chest to listen to his breathing and then does it to the left side. He looks at the other medical staff.
DOCTOR: We need a mask over here.
He looks down at Sinister Minister who isn't making eye contact with anything but the wall.
DOCTOR: Your left lung seems to be fine, but your right lung is having some trouble. We need to put a mask on you and get you to the hospital. How are the ribs?
SINISTER MINISTER: Broke, how the fuck do you think they are?
Someone in the back hands the doctor a mask which he proceeds to put over Sinister Minister's face. They gingerly stick a stretcher board beneath him and place him on his back. Sinister Minister takes off the mask.
SINISTER MINISTER: Get out of here. I can walk!
Sinister Minister tries to get up, but the doctor forces him back down on the stretcher.
DOCTOR: Please lay there.
Sinister Minister does what he is told and they strap him to the board and put back on the mask. They load him into the ambulance while American Tommy looks on.
HAL 10,000: Will you not be attending the Minister's treatment and diagnosis, Tom?
American Tommy makes a face like Hal ripped ass right in front of him.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Fuck no. I got other things I need to handle. I have news I need to deliver!
American Tommy walks away as someone double taps the back of the ambulance to signal for it to leave.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Back up, muggles! Back up!
Hal 10,000's glowing red eye looms in the wall as security shows up
HAL 10,000: That man is injured. Please stand aside. He requires medical attention.
The security guards grab a hold of American Tommy while his attention is turned towards the doctors. They move him out of the way clearing a path for the doctors to check on Sinister Minister.
DOCTOR: Mr. Minister, what's going on?
Sin tries to slide himself up the wall to a sitting position, but he can't the pain is too much.
SINISTER MINISTER: I can't breathe.
The doctor grabs his stethoscope and puts it to Sinister Minister's right side of his chest to listen to his breathing and then does it to the left side. He looks at the other medical staff.
DOCTOR: We need a mask over here.
He looks down at Sinister Minister who isn't making eye contact with anything but the wall.
DOCTOR: Your left lung seems to be fine, but your right lung is having some trouble. We need to put a mask on you and get you to the hospital. How are the ribs?
SINISTER MINISTER: Broke, how the fuck do you think they are?
Someone in the back hands the doctor a mask which he proceeds to put over Sinister Minister's face. They gingerly stick a stretcher board beneath him and place him on his back. Sinister Minister takes off the mask.
SINISTER MINISTER: Get out of here. I can walk!
Sinister Minister tries to get up, but the doctor forces him back down on the stretcher.
DOCTOR: Please lay there.
Sinister Minister does what he is told and they strap him to the board and put back on the mask. They load him into the ambulance while American Tommy looks on.
HAL 10,000: Will you not be attending the Minister's treatment and diagnosis, Tom?
American Tommy makes a face like Hal ripped ass right in front of him.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Fuck no. I got other things I need to handle. I have news I need to deliver!
American Tommy walks away as someone double taps the back of the ambulance to signal for it to leave.
NINA APPLEBAUM: And we're back.
BRAD STOKES: Not Sinister Minister, though. I told you, Nina. I damn well told you the Minister hurt himself during that match with Candy. Why does no one listen to me unless I'm speaking in foreign languages made up by the late Professor Tolkien?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I'm not sure anyone understands you ever, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Preaching to the choir, sister. Says that very thing in my dating profile.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That said, we'll find out more about the Minister's condition after he's checked out.
BRAD STOKES: Wouldn't it be weird if he somehow ended up at the same hospital Thirteen's staying at?
NINA APPLEBAU: She's in Columbus Ohio, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but what if, you know? Talk about creepy. That'd be like altering the time-space continuum, you know, like to have them cross that distance in an hour like what happens on television shows like this without explanation? And then, to make it really awesome, when they wheel Sinister Minister in on his stretcher the Hospital P.A. cranks his theme music?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Church bells.
BRAD STOKES: Shit's awesome, Nina. Puts Hubert and Bindy and that beloved cat's hip hop theatrics to shame. Oh, hey, speaking of...
The camera cut to Bindy Trent who had already come down the ramp and entered the ring. There she stood now, a black bag with a slender drawstring hanging in one hand, while the other was raised with the microphone held just a few inches away from her mouth. She looked nervous, which wasn’t usual of the young woman.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What do you think is in the bag?
BRAD STOKES: I doubt it's Tail Earnhardt. And I'm really hoping it’s not an engagement ring, either. I like her and all, but I don’t think I’m ready to enter that next stage in our relationship. Got my eye on Ana Hayden, you know.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Somehow I doubt that’s what Bindy has in there anyway, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Alright, but just in case it is, I’ll do my best to let her down easy.
After a few more seconds of chewing in the inside of her bottom lip she found her voice she’d seemingly been looking for.
BINDY TRENT: If you’re hoping I’m out here to address my upcoming match with Dare, or do something outrageous to try and outdo him again. I’m sorry, let me just say right away that’s not my intention. I’m really looking forward to that fight tonight, but there’s something I have to do first, or I don’t think I’ll be sleeping very well tonight, or for the next few weeks. I’m sure as everyone is aware on February 5th at Executive Decision there’s going to be a lot of the line for a lot of people. Prestige, titles, honor, and while I get those are all important things I don’t think I’d be out of line if I said I felt there was something more important at stake, more important than all of that. Control of all of AWE is on the line.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She's got a point.
BRAD STOKES: Do you think she gets any proceeds from sales of those Bend Me Bindy action figures Dare was selling?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I honestly don't know.
BRAD STOKES: Cause I ordered one. Don't want her to think I'm paying for sex in advance is all.
BINDY TRENT: Over the past couple of shows we’ve seen T.S. Elliot, Francis Ford Cuppola and Kassandrah all hand pick their representatives for the ladder match that will decide whoever gets control of this company. But ya know what’s kinda lame? That Thirteen has been robbed of this opportunity and while I’m no bleeding heart-
BRAD STOKES: Oh she totally is. BOO! Liar!
NINA APPLEBAUM: I take it the love affair between you two is never getting off the ground?
BRAD STOKES: It’s complicated Nina, we got off on a bad foot when she lied and told me her name was Becky, but we’re working to make it right. I hope she likes threesomes. Me, her and the action figure. Ana Hayden can watch.
BINDY TRENT: I don’t think she should have to suffer for other people’s totally uncool and vicious actions. That’s why after some careful consideration I’ve taken it upon myself to do this.
She struggled with the draw string on the black satin bag she’d carried down here with her, briefly tucking the microphone under her arm to free both hands. Out of the bag, she produced a top hat, that was rather beaten looking from being carried here. Giving it a few loving brushes of the hand, Bindy there after tossed it onto the ring mat.
BINDY TRENT: Well Thirteen, I’m your huckleberry. I’m throwing my hat into the ring, because it’s pretty obvious no one else will. And maybe if Thirteen were of her right mind she’d pick someone else to represent her, and I can’t fault her for that.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She literally threw a hat in the ring …
BRAD STOKES: That's my gimmick, too. I also started the hat trick craze of the 90-91 Pittsburgh Penguins Stanley Cup run, Nina. This bitch better watch her back.
BINDY TRENT: I don’t know Thirteen well, at all really, but I know when you need to do what’s right and seeing as no one else is in here with me I’m willing to take this on. Barring the people at the top of this company don’t try and stop me, Ana, Drew, Zack, you can all expect to see me at Executive Decision. So, good luck.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What a remarkably kind gesture on behalf of Bindy Trent! There you have it folks, the fourth entrant into the ladder match to fight for control of the company will be Bindy Trent!
BRAD STOKES: Awwwwwwww. She just Babe Ruth'd Thirteen. Better make it THIRTEEN home runs, Bindy!
Thirteen sniffed sentimentally as she watched Bindy’s announcement on the tiny flip phone screen in her hopsital bed.
THIRTEEN: Oh, Bindy. I am of my right mind and I would so totally choose you!
She wiped a gratious tear from her eye before she saw him looming at the end of her bed and inhaled sharply.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Hello, Thirteen.
She could feel her heart racing at the sight of the man who’d tormented her for nearly a month. She could at least feel a pang of satisfaction seeing the marks and bruises from the defense she’d made against him. But here he stood, and she knew she lacked the strength to fend him off.
THIRTEEN: You shouldn’t be here, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: But I am here. And, thanks to Bindy Trent, evidently my efforts have been meaningless.
Thirteen glared defiantly at him.
THIRTEEN: You’ll never win control of the AWE.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Maybe not.
He plucked a spare pillow off the counter and moved around to the side of her bed. Thirteen looked fearfully up at T.S.
THIRTEEN: What are you doing?
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It won’t matter who represents you if you’re dead.
With that he smothered the pillow down across her face tightly to seal off the air, his face cool and calm as Thirteen mustered what strength she had to fight back!
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It’s for the best. I tried to fit you into my mother’s shoes, to spare you from this… we could have had a life together… but your friends had to save you… if I have to forcibly remove each of you one by one from the picture before that ladder match even happens, so help me, I—
The door opened and in walked Francis Ford Cuppola wheeling a television.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: T.S...?
The interruption startled T.S. to wide-eyed shock looking back at Francis, caught red-handed.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Francis, I—
Francis straightened and eyed T.S. matter-of-factly. He stepped around the television toward T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: You made a big mistake, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It’s not what it looks like.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Oh no? I think it’s exactly what it looks like.
Francis asked, moving right next to T.S. and glaring harshly into T.S.’ eyes shaking his head.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: The pillow… goes under her head, you silly duck.
Francis chuckled giving T.S. a warm pat on the back before wresting the pillow out of T.S.’ hands and fixing it under the sputtering and coughing Thirteen’s head. Francis shook his head disparagingly at T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: You would have suffocated her like that, silly. .
T.S. blinked, watching as Francis brushed past him obliviously as always and began to set up the television. Thomas Shane Elliot watched as a nurse entered the room and he stood there the most awkward man on the planet in that moment.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Uh…. I….
Francis whistled as he set the television up and turned it to Massacre. Francis moved back to Thirteen’s bedside and sat down, patting the seat beside him motioning to T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Come and sit with us, T.S. We’re watching Massacre.
Thirteen’s nurse tended to her as she was clearly conscious and returning to wakefulness.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I need to go.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Awwww, but you just got here. Stay awhile. I’ve got syrup around here somewhere. Take a pull.
Thirteen’s eyes fluttered open and glared at him and struggled to sit up looking stronger and stronger by the second with him present in the room.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: No, I think I’ll go.
T.S. rushed out the door looking chalk white, his plan foiled.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Come back real soon, y’hear?
The door closed behind him, and Francis settled in next to Thirteen for the rest of Massacre.
BRAD STOKES: Not Sinister Minister, though. I told you, Nina. I damn well told you the Minister hurt himself during that match with Candy. Why does no one listen to me unless I'm speaking in foreign languages made up by the late Professor Tolkien?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I'm not sure anyone understands you ever, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Preaching to the choir, sister. Says that very thing in my dating profile.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That said, we'll find out more about the Minister's condition after he's checked out.
BRAD STOKES: Wouldn't it be weird if he somehow ended up at the same hospital Thirteen's staying at?
NINA APPLEBAU: She's in Columbus Ohio, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but what if, you know? Talk about creepy. That'd be like altering the time-space continuum, you know, like to have them cross that distance in an hour like what happens on television shows like this without explanation? And then, to make it really awesome, when they wheel Sinister Minister in on his stretcher the Hospital P.A. cranks his theme music?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Church bells.
BRAD STOKES: Shit's awesome, Nina. Puts Hubert and Bindy and that beloved cat's hip hop theatrics to shame. Oh, hey, speaking of...
The camera cut to Bindy Trent who had already come down the ramp and entered the ring. There she stood now, a black bag with a slender drawstring hanging in one hand, while the other was raised with the microphone held just a few inches away from her mouth. She looked nervous, which wasn’t usual of the young woman.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What do you think is in the bag?
BRAD STOKES: I doubt it's Tail Earnhardt. And I'm really hoping it’s not an engagement ring, either. I like her and all, but I don’t think I’m ready to enter that next stage in our relationship. Got my eye on Ana Hayden, you know.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Somehow I doubt that’s what Bindy has in there anyway, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Alright, but just in case it is, I’ll do my best to let her down easy.
After a few more seconds of chewing in the inside of her bottom lip she found her voice she’d seemingly been looking for.
BINDY TRENT: If you’re hoping I’m out here to address my upcoming match with Dare, or do something outrageous to try and outdo him again. I’m sorry, let me just say right away that’s not my intention. I’m really looking forward to that fight tonight, but there’s something I have to do first, or I don’t think I’ll be sleeping very well tonight, or for the next few weeks. I’m sure as everyone is aware on February 5th at Executive Decision there’s going to be a lot of the line for a lot of people. Prestige, titles, honor, and while I get those are all important things I don’t think I’d be out of line if I said I felt there was something more important at stake, more important than all of that. Control of all of AWE is on the line.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She's got a point.
BRAD STOKES: Do you think she gets any proceeds from sales of those Bend Me Bindy action figures Dare was selling?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I honestly don't know.
BRAD STOKES: Cause I ordered one. Don't want her to think I'm paying for sex in advance is all.
BINDY TRENT: Over the past couple of shows we’ve seen T.S. Elliot, Francis Ford Cuppola and Kassandrah all hand pick their representatives for the ladder match that will decide whoever gets control of this company. But ya know what’s kinda lame? That Thirteen has been robbed of this opportunity and while I’m no bleeding heart-
BRAD STOKES: Oh she totally is. BOO! Liar!
NINA APPLEBAUM: I take it the love affair between you two is never getting off the ground?
BRAD STOKES: It’s complicated Nina, we got off on a bad foot when she lied and told me her name was Becky, but we’re working to make it right. I hope she likes threesomes. Me, her and the action figure. Ana Hayden can watch.
BINDY TRENT: I don’t think she should have to suffer for other people’s totally uncool and vicious actions. That’s why after some careful consideration I’ve taken it upon myself to do this.
She struggled with the draw string on the black satin bag she’d carried down here with her, briefly tucking the microphone under her arm to free both hands. Out of the bag, she produced a top hat, that was rather beaten looking from being carried here. Giving it a few loving brushes of the hand, Bindy there after tossed it onto the ring mat.
BINDY TRENT: Well Thirteen, I’m your huckleberry. I’m throwing my hat into the ring, because it’s pretty obvious no one else will. And maybe if Thirteen were of her right mind she’d pick someone else to represent her, and I can’t fault her for that.
NINA APPLEBAUM: She literally threw a hat in the ring …
BRAD STOKES: That's my gimmick, too. I also started the hat trick craze of the 90-91 Pittsburgh Penguins Stanley Cup run, Nina. This bitch better watch her back.
BINDY TRENT: I don’t know Thirteen well, at all really, but I know when you need to do what’s right and seeing as no one else is in here with me I’m willing to take this on. Barring the people at the top of this company don’t try and stop me, Ana, Drew, Zack, you can all expect to see me at Executive Decision. So, good luck.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What a remarkably kind gesture on behalf of Bindy Trent! There you have it folks, the fourth entrant into the ladder match to fight for control of the company will be Bindy Trent!
BRAD STOKES: Awwwwwwww. She just Babe Ruth'd Thirteen. Better make it THIRTEEN home runs, Bindy!
THIRTEEN: Oh, Bindy. I am of my right mind and I would so totally choose you!
She wiped a gratious tear from her eye before she saw him looming at the end of her bed and inhaled sharply.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Hello, Thirteen.
She could feel her heart racing at the sight of the man who’d tormented her for nearly a month. She could at least feel a pang of satisfaction seeing the marks and bruises from the defense she’d made against him. But here he stood, and she knew she lacked the strength to fend him off.
THIRTEEN: You shouldn’t be here, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: But I am here. And, thanks to Bindy Trent, evidently my efforts have been meaningless.
Thirteen glared defiantly at him.
THIRTEEN: You’ll never win control of the AWE.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Maybe not.
He plucked a spare pillow off the counter and moved around to the side of her bed. Thirteen looked fearfully up at T.S.
THIRTEEN: What are you doing?
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It won’t matter who represents you if you’re dead.
With that he smothered the pillow down across her face tightly to seal off the air, his face cool and calm as Thirteen mustered what strength she had to fight back!
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It’s for the best. I tried to fit you into my mother’s shoes, to spare you from this… we could have had a life together… but your friends had to save you… if I have to forcibly remove each of you one by one from the picture before that ladder match even happens, so help me, I—
The door opened and in walked Francis Ford Cuppola wheeling a television.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: T.S...?
The interruption startled T.S. to wide-eyed shock looking back at Francis, caught red-handed.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Francis, I—
Francis straightened and eyed T.S. matter-of-factly. He stepped around the television toward T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: You made a big mistake, T.S.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: It’s not what it looks like.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Oh no? I think it’s exactly what it looks like.
Francis asked, moving right next to T.S. and glaring harshly into T.S.’ eyes shaking his head.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: The pillow… goes under her head, you silly duck.
Francis chuckled giving T.S. a warm pat on the back before wresting the pillow out of T.S.’ hands and fixing it under the sputtering and coughing Thirteen’s head. Francis shook his head disparagingly at T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: You would have suffocated her like that, silly. .
T.S. blinked, watching as Francis brushed past him obliviously as always and began to set up the television. Thomas Shane Elliot watched as a nurse entered the room and he stood there the most awkward man on the planet in that moment.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Uh…. I….
Francis whistled as he set the television up and turned it to Massacre. Francis moved back to Thirteen’s bedside and sat down, patting the seat beside him motioning to T.S.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Come and sit with us, T.S. We’re watching Massacre.
Thirteen’s nurse tended to her as she was clearly conscious and returning to wakefulness.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I need to go.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Awwww, but you just got here. Stay awhile. I’ve got syrup around here somewhere. Take a pull.
Thirteen’s eyes fluttered open and glared at him and struggled to sit up looking stronger and stronger by the second with him present in the room.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: No, I think I’ll go.
T.S. rushed out the door looking chalk white, his plan foiled.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Come back real soon, y’hear?
The door closed behind him, and Francis settled in next to Thirteen for the rest of Massacre.
Dare Clemmens VS. Bindy Trent
NINA APPLEBAUM: Dare Clemmens showing some flashy kicks in the ring!
BRAD STOKES: He’s so hot right now, Nina!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And yet, Bindy has managed to avoid each of those kicks and keep Dare guessing!
BRAD STOKES: Semantics. I’ve got a Dare poster, you know?
NINA APPLEBAUM: You don’t say?
BRAD STOKES: I do say! And check this out. My Bend Me Bindy Action figure just arrived. It’s craptacular.
While Brad Stokes manipulates with distaste his freshly arrived action figure, inside the ring Bindy has managed to claw back from a series of swift strikes and is now ducking and dodging and weaving away from Dare’s precision strikes, keeping the plucky youngster on his toes and chasing her. After a spinning heel kick that Bindy ducks, she sweeps Dare’s leg out from under him and drops an elbow before going for the cover!
1..
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout by Dare Clemmens!
Dare is swiftly to his feet with a kipup that catches Bindy off guard with a german suplex!
BRAD STOKES: Nicely done! These two have been a mile a minute since the opening bell!
Bindy clutches her neck in pain as Dare flourishes arrogantly on his way back up to his feet and looks out to the crowd like, you expected that move not to work, or something? He grips Bindy up to her feet and whips her for the ropes! On the rebound he takes her down quickly with a sweet tilt-a-whirl backbreaker and goes for a cover!
1…
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout by Bindy Trent! She’s having trouble mounting much offense, but she’s also managing to shield herself from the brunt of Dare’s attack.
BRAD STOKES: He’s strung together a few good moves, but so far nothing substantive. We remain at a deadlock.
Dare rolls Bindy up to her feet only to be met with some strikes to the midsection that catch Dare off-guard. Bindy fires several more before launching Dare down to the canvas with a snapmare and follows it up with a stiff soccer kick to Dare’s back!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Bindy may be firing up the offense here!
Bindy grabs Dare and wheels him back to his feet and lands several more strikes before whipping Dare to the corner! Bindy races in after him only to be surprised as Dare backflips out of the corner behind Bindy and rewards her effort with an atomic drop then another german suplex! Dare is once again arrogantly striding around the ring as Bindy definitely looks to be feeling it after that string of attacks! Dare lunges off the ropes and drops a legdrop onto Bindy before going for a rather arrogant cover!
1..
2…
THR—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nothing doing there, for Dare!
BRAD STOKES: He was close!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Not close enough.
BRAD STOKES: Et tu, Nina?
NINA APPLEBAUM: That doesn’t even make sense in this context.
BRAD STOKES: Oh yeah? In spite of the fact you have a point, I still think you’re stupid on account of that point.
Dare is all business now as he rolls Bindy back to her feet only to be surprised with a swift arm drag that sends him sprawling across the canvas! Bindy races to follow up with leaping knee drop but finds Dare has rolled out of the way and under the ropes!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Clever escape there!
BRAD STOKES: I’d just like to take this opportunity to say this action figure is garbage, and I shall cease employing it as a prop no one can see since the cameras are all watching the match. As they should be. Stokes, over and out.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Why are you talking like that?
BRAD STOKES: Your earlier assault on my misuse of the Et Tu thing rendered me feeling vulnerable, Nina. I’m defending myself. You filthy tramp.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What did you call me?
BRAD STOKES: I said Food stamp. Gonna get some. Hand um out…
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s what I thought.
Dare rolls back inside of the ring after letting Theo Refano count up to 4 while Bindy tracked him carefully and allowed herself to recover from Dare’s earlier onslaught. Upon entry Bindy grabs Dare into a wrist lock and begins to apply pressure to his arm! Only Dare twists, and flips and escapes the wrist lock and aims a high kick for Bindy she once more ducks and sweeps Dare’s leg out from under him! Bindy is up in a hurry and SLAMS down hard onto Dare with the best moonsault ever, hooks the leg and goes for a cover!
1…
2…
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout shortly after two!
BRAD STOKES: Hey, did you mean it earlier when you said Bindy wasn’t gonna want to marry me?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I doubt it.
BRAD STOKES: This has, truly, been a night of low blows on Brad Stokes. My wounded ego, shattered bank account, and missing leather jacket shall be soothed solely by my kick ass chair that serves me drinks.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Missing leather jacket?! When did that happen?!
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, I dunno. Must’ve left it in the can. This night may be the bleakest for me yet, Nina. Some asshole’s got my jacket, I just know it.
Bindy slams forearms into Dare as she backs him into the corner and sets him up onto the top turnbuckle and climbs up after him, pointing out to the fans she SLAMS Dare down onto the canvas with a frankensteiner that ignites the crowd! And Bindy is quick up to the top once more overlooking a downed Dare Clemmens!
NINA APPLEBAUM: This could be it! Bindy Trent could put it away right here!
BRAD STOKES: What about my jacket?!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Forget the jacket!
BRAD STOKES: I CAN’T!
Bindy raises up and whips into the air into a shooting star press leg drop that comes down empty on the canvas as once more Dare Clemmens rolls out of the way leaving Bindy in pain!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Painful landing for Bindy Trent!
Dare is once more antagonizing the crowd as he raises to one knee, panting heavily and making time to gloat to the crowd as he uses the ropes to ease him to his feet.
BRAD STOKES: Love this kid’s attitude.
NINA APPLEBAUM: He’s an arrogant asshole, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Why do you think I love him so much? I’d offer you a drink, but my awesome chair serves only arrogant assholes like me. No whiny babies allowed.
Dare is on his feet, clearly moving slower than previously as he makes his way to the pained and straining Bindy Trent. HE wheels her to her feet and quickly plants her back down with a suplex! Dare rises back up to his feet, keeping Bindy in the clutch and goes for a second suplex!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nicely executed, can he go for three?
Dare is up once more and SLAMS Bindy back down with a third suplex!
BRAD STOKES: And the cover!
1…
2…
THR—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout by Bindy Trent!
Dare loses a tinge of that arrogance as he slaps the mat and raises back to his feet with Bindy still down! Dare moves to the ropes, hops onto the top rope and springboards back onto Bindy with an impressive springboard senton bomb!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Dare goes for the cover!
1…
2..
THR---
BRAD STOKES: Again no!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Bindy Trent, again, manages to get a shoulder up!
Dare is slow to rise, a little frustration hitting him as he gradually lifts back to his feet, dragging Bindy with him. Dare unleashes a series of strikes at Bindy before unleashing a standing side kick that wows the crowd only Bindy dodges it narrowly and slams into Dare with a stunning discus punch that topples both competitors to the canvas!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Unbelievable evasion there by Bindy Trent! And now it’s going to be a race to see who can stand first!
Dare rolls to his side, and Bindy tries to make it to all fours.
BRAD STOKES: Thus avoiding the count. Very clever. I may have to intervene.
NINA APPLEBAUM: No you will not.
BRAD STOKES: I’m just kidding! I’m not even getting out of my seat for an evacuation.
Dare rises to a knee. So does Bindy. Simultaneously they rise and meet each other head on amid a flurry of punches on either side that Dare manages to get the upper hand on! He backs Bindy into the corner with a flurry of strikes that leaves Bindy stunned leaned against the turnbuckles! Dare sets Bindy up onto the turnbuckle and regains his cocky streak! Doing a little dance before being surprised, with his back to Bindy she grips his neck and spins him down into the canvas with a Diamond Dust!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: KARMATIC DEBT!!!
Bindy is exhausted as the crowd roars, watching Bindy crawl sluggishly onto Dare for a cover!
1…
2..
3!!!
“Award Show Taylor Swift” by Bowling for Soup kicks in and Bindy Trent staggers to her feet!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Stunning finish to a remarkable match!
BRAD STOKES: I can’t believe she pulled that off!
Dare grudgingly climbs to his feet as Bindy has her arm raised!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… “BANG… BANG” BINDYYYYYYYY TRENT!
Bindy eyes Dare before approaching him and extending her hand for a shake.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yet again, a sportswoman gesture from Bindy Trent.
BRAD STOKES: Twenty bucks says he lays her out for stealing that win.
Dare eyes the handshake…. Then Bindy who seems eager to show her respect to Dare…. Before he moves in for a huge hug!
NINA APPLEBAUM: WHOA! Dare Clemmens with a hug… for Bindy Trent.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but National Hugging Day was yesterday, according to the twitters. This fool’s got the wrong hashtag day.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, let it not be said that the competitors here in the AWE are all tough talk and animosity. Bindy Trent and Dare Clemmens lit it up here tonight. That, right there, is a show of respect between two highly worthy competitors.
BRAD STOKES: And yet… as I said… National Hugging Day was yesterday. These shows of affection need to properly correlate to the days of the week, month, or the year. Without hashtags, Nina, there is chaos. For, I believe, it was Pythagoras who said, “a watched clock---“
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yeah, yeah, Calendar Man, whatever. We’ll return with more AWE action after this!
BRAD STOKES: He’s so hot right now, Nina!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And yet, Bindy has managed to avoid each of those kicks and keep Dare guessing!
BRAD STOKES: Semantics. I’ve got a Dare poster, you know?
NINA APPLEBAUM: You don’t say?
BRAD STOKES: I do say! And check this out. My Bend Me Bindy Action figure just arrived. It’s craptacular.
While Brad Stokes manipulates with distaste his freshly arrived action figure, inside the ring Bindy has managed to claw back from a series of swift strikes and is now ducking and dodging and weaving away from Dare’s precision strikes, keeping the plucky youngster on his toes and chasing her. After a spinning heel kick that Bindy ducks, she sweeps Dare’s leg out from under him and drops an elbow before going for the cover!
1..
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout by Dare Clemmens!
Dare is swiftly to his feet with a kipup that catches Bindy off guard with a german suplex!
BRAD STOKES: Nicely done! These two have been a mile a minute since the opening bell!
Bindy clutches her neck in pain as Dare flourishes arrogantly on his way back up to his feet and looks out to the crowd like, you expected that move not to work, or something? He grips Bindy up to her feet and whips her for the ropes! On the rebound he takes her down quickly with a sweet tilt-a-whirl backbreaker and goes for a cover!
1…
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout by Bindy Trent! She’s having trouble mounting much offense, but she’s also managing to shield herself from the brunt of Dare’s attack.
BRAD STOKES: He’s strung together a few good moves, but so far nothing substantive. We remain at a deadlock.
Dare rolls Bindy up to her feet only to be met with some strikes to the midsection that catch Dare off-guard. Bindy fires several more before launching Dare down to the canvas with a snapmare and follows it up with a stiff soccer kick to Dare’s back!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Bindy may be firing up the offense here!
Bindy grabs Dare and wheels him back to his feet and lands several more strikes before whipping Dare to the corner! Bindy races in after him only to be surprised as Dare backflips out of the corner behind Bindy and rewards her effort with an atomic drop then another german suplex! Dare is once again arrogantly striding around the ring as Bindy definitely looks to be feeling it after that string of attacks! Dare lunges off the ropes and drops a legdrop onto Bindy before going for a rather arrogant cover!
1..
2…
THR—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nothing doing there, for Dare!
BRAD STOKES: He was close!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Not close enough.
BRAD STOKES: Et tu, Nina?
NINA APPLEBAUM: That doesn’t even make sense in this context.
BRAD STOKES: Oh yeah? In spite of the fact you have a point, I still think you’re stupid on account of that point.
Dare is all business now as he rolls Bindy back to her feet only to be surprised with a swift arm drag that sends him sprawling across the canvas! Bindy races to follow up with leaping knee drop but finds Dare has rolled out of the way and under the ropes!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Clever escape there!
BRAD STOKES: I’d just like to take this opportunity to say this action figure is garbage, and I shall cease employing it as a prop no one can see since the cameras are all watching the match. As they should be. Stokes, over and out.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Why are you talking like that?
BRAD STOKES: Your earlier assault on my misuse of the Et Tu thing rendered me feeling vulnerable, Nina. I’m defending myself. You filthy tramp.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What did you call me?
BRAD STOKES: I said Food stamp. Gonna get some. Hand um out…
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s what I thought.
Dare rolls back inside of the ring after letting Theo Refano count up to 4 while Bindy tracked him carefully and allowed herself to recover from Dare’s earlier onslaught. Upon entry Bindy grabs Dare into a wrist lock and begins to apply pressure to his arm! Only Dare twists, and flips and escapes the wrist lock and aims a high kick for Bindy she once more ducks and sweeps Dare’s leg out from under him! Bindy is up in a hurry and SLAMS down hard onto Dare with the best moonsault ever, hooks the leg and goes for a cover!
1…
2…
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout shortly after two!
BRAD STOKES: Hey, did you mean it earlier when you said Bindy wasn’t gonna want to marry me?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I doubt it.
BRAD STOKES: This has, truly, been a night of low blows on Brad Stokes. My wounded ego, shattered bank account, and missing leather jacket shall be soothed solely by my kick ass chair that serves me drinks.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Missing leather jacket?! When did that happen?!
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, I dunno. Must’ve left it in the can. This night may be the bleakest for me yet, Nina. Some asshole’s got my jacket, I just know it.
Bindy slams forearms into Dare as she backs him into the corner and sets him up onto the top turnbuckle and climbs up after him, pointing out to the fans she SLAMS Dare down onto the canvas with a frankensteiner that ignites the crowd! And Bindy is quick up to the top once more overlooking a downed Dare Clemmens!
NINA APPLEBAUM: This could be it! Bindy Trent could put it away right here!
BRAD STOKES: What about my jacket?!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Forget the jacket!
BRAD STOKES: I CAN’T!
Bindy raises up and whips into the air into a shooting star press leg drop that comes down empty on the canvas as once more Dare Clemmens rolls out of the way leaving Bindy in pain!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Painful landing for Bindy Trent!
Dare is once more antagonizing the crowd as he raises to one knee, panting heavily and making time to gloat to the crowd as he uses the ropes to ease him to his feet.
BRAD STOKES: Love this kid’s attitude.
NINA APPLEBAUM: He’s an arrogant asshole, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: Why do you think I love him so much? I’d offer you a drink, but my awesome chair serves only arrogant assholes like me. No whiny babies allowed.
Dare is on his feet, clearly moving slower than previously as he makes his way to the pained and straining Bindy Trent. HE wheels her to her feet and quickly plants her back down with a suplex! Dare rises back up to his feet, keeping Bindy in the clutch and goes for a second suplex!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nicely executed, can he go for three?
Dare is up once more and SLAMS Bindy back down with a third suplex!
BRAD STOKES: And the cover!
1…
2…
THR—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Kickout by Bindy Trent!
Dare loses a tinge of that arrogance as he slaps the mat and raises back to his feet with Bindy still down! Dare moves to the ropes, hops onto the top rope and springboards back onto Bindy with an impressive springboard senton bomb!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Dare goes for the cover!
1…
2..
THR---
BRAD STOKES: Again no!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Bindy Trent, again, manages to get a shoulder up!
Dare is slow to rise, a little frustration hitting him as he gradually lifts back to his feet, dragging Bindy with him. Dare unleashes a series of strikes at Bindy before unleashing a standing side kick that wows the crowd only Bindy dodges it narrowly and slams into Dare with a stunning discus punch that topples both competitors to the canvas!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Unbelievable evasion there by Bindy Trent! And now it’s going to be a race to see who can stand first!
Dare rolls to his side, and Bindy tries to make it to all fours.
BRAD STOKES: Thus avoiding the count. Very clever. I may have to intervene.
NINA APPLEBAUM: No you will not.
BRAD STOKES: I’m just kidding! I’m not even getting out of my seat for an evacuation.
Dare rises to a knee. So does Bindy. Simultaneously they rise and meet each other head on amid a flurry of punches on either side that Dare manages to get the upper hand on! He backs Bindy into the corner with a flurry of strikes that leaves Bindy stunned leaned against the turnbuckles! Dare sets Bindy up onto the turnbuckle and regains his cocky streak! Doing a little dance before being surprised, with his back to Bindy she grips his neck and spins him down into the canvas with a Diamond Dust!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: KARMATIC DEBT!!!
Bindy is exhausted as the crowd roars, watching Bindy crawl sluggishly onto Dare for a cover!
1…
2..
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
“Award Show Taylor Swift” by Bowling for Soup kicks in and Bindy Trent staggers to her feet!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Stunning finish to a remarkable match!
BRAD STOKES: I can’t believe she pulled that off!
Dare grudgingly climbs to his feet as Bindy has her arm raised!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… “BANG… BANG” BINDYYYYYYYY TRENT!
Bindy eyes Dare before approaching him and extending her hand for a shake.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yet again, a sportswoman gesture from Bindy Trent.
BRAD STOKES: Twenty bucks says he lays her out for stealing that win.
Dare eyes the handshake…. Then Bindy who seems eager to show her respect to Dare…. Before he moves in for a huge hug!
NINA APPLEBAUM: WHOA! Dare Clemmens with a hug… for Bindy Trent.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but National Hugging Day was yesterday, according to the twitters. This fool’s got the wrong hashtag day.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, let it not be said that the competitors here in the AWE are all tough talk and animosity. Bindy Trent and Dare Clemmens lit it up here tonight. That, right there, is a show of respect between two highly worthy competitors.
BRAD STOKES: And yet… as I said… National Hugging Day was yesterday. These shows of affection need to properly correlate to the days of the week, month, or the year. Without hashtags, Nina, there is chaos. For, I believe, it was Pythagoras who said, “a watched clock---“
NINA APPLEBAUM: Yeah, yeah, Calendar Man, whatever. We’ll return with more AWE action after this!
Who Will Walk out in Control of the AWE?
Who Will be the AWE'S First Dynamic Division Champions?
Will the Paramount Champion Retain His Title?
Who Will Raise the Alpha Cup?
Find Out, at
Amis F'n Shelton VS. Austin Gale VS. Benny Stevens VS. Dominic Lawson
DING! DING! DING!
Right at the bell the four men rush one another. Benny rushes Amis and slams him to the canvas with an enziguri kick. Austin Gale locks up with Dom Lawson and quickly gets the upper hand and slams the veteran down hard with a belly to belly suplex! It takes precious little time for Austin and Benny to meet head to head exchanging furious blows before Benny drops Austin with a facebuster and goes for the quick cover!
1
NINA APPLEBAUM: Amis Shelton was there to break up the pin! And Dom Lawson quickly flattens him with a running lariat!
BRAD STOKES: You know who I hate, Nina?
NINA APPLEBAUM: I’m sure I can guess.
BRAD STOKES: You probably can, but I don’t want you to. See that man there?
Dom Lawson lays a furious stomping down into Amis Shelton as Benny has Austin in the corner receiving mounted punches.
BRAD STOKES: Dom Lawson. Now, sure, I don’t much like any of the men in that ring currently, BUT FEW HAVE IRKED ME THE WAY DOM LAWSON HAS, NINA. SO MUCH SO THAT I HATH RESORTED TO USING THE KING’S SPEECH!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Got a vein throbbing there, bud.
BRAD STOKES: Dom Lawson shall be smoten, wench.
Austin furiously plants Benny down to the canvas with a powerbomb into a cover!
1…
NINA APPLEBAUM: A save by Dom Lawson!
BRAD STOKES: I’ve just ordered ten pizzas to the protestors outside, Nina. CARE OF DOM LAWSON! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Austin angrily rises to meet Dom Lawson and drops him hard to the canvas with a series of suplexes that flattens Dom, and sends him rolling out of the ring under the ropes once free.
BRAD STOKES: Serves that scallywag right. Kick his ass, Austin. We’re a team, you and I!
Austin lays a stomping down onto Lawson before Benny quickly rolls him up for a cover!
1..
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Again, Amis Shelton was there to break up the cover!
And now Amis goes to work on Benny, lifting him to his feet and belting him with knife-edge chops audible up to the cheap seats seems like!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Amis Shelton really letting Benny Stevens have it.
BRAD STOKES: Serves Benny right for claiming to be Amis’ muse.
Amis launches Benny hard for the corner where he connects hard with the turnbuckle and Amis follows him and slams him down with a shining wizard then goes for a cover!
1..
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Austin Gale there to break up the cover this time.
On the outside Dom Lawson stalks the ring as inside the ring Austin and Amis go toe-to-toe, laying into one another with stiff strikes that rock both men before Amis blocks an intended blow and spins Austin into a sudden powerslam and goes for the cover!
1..
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Benny Stevens with the save that time.
BRAD STOKES: Meanwhile, Dom Lawson’s biding his time like a snake in the grass. I hate that guy. You’re not getting any pizza, jerk!
As Benny gets to his feet he’s greeted by a stiff forearm from Amis Shelton, followed up by a haymaker then Amis slams Benny down with a lifting single underhook DDT!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Amis Shelton with the cover!
1…
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Again, Austin Gale was there to prevent the pin!
This time, as Amis lifts to his feet and goes to retaliate on Austin he’s met with a surprise michinoku driver that stuns Amis and floors the crowd!
NINA APPLEBAUM: THE GREAT WHITE NORTH! AUSTIN WITH THE COVER! HE’S GOT THIS THING!
1..
2..
THR—
NINA APPLEBAUM: NO! Dom Lawson slides in and breaks up the pin.
BRAD STOKES: Jerk.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I’m pretty sure ¾ of the competitors in that ring are jerks, Bradley.
BRAD STOKES: We’ve been over this. I have specific ongoing feuds, Nina. Can’t you keep up with me?
Austin has taken a swing for Dom but missed and gotten a swift kick to his midsection followed by a full nelson suplex from Dom Lawson! Benny is on his feet and he quickly charges Dom Lawson on his way up to his feet. Benny shoulder thrusts Dom right back into the corner and begins to slam his shoulder into Lawson’s midsection as Amis Shelton staggers to his feet and grips Austin and lifts him to his feet, stuns him with a kick and hefts him vertitcal for a delayed suplex!
NINA APPLEBAUM: A lot of power on display there by Amis Shelton! But where’s he going?!
Amis carefully edges his way towards the ropes with Austin and then angrily dumps him over the ropes to the outside where Austin lands hard onto the concrete!
BRAD STOKES: Nice and vicious moves by Amis Shelton! I like that!
With Dom and Benny battling it out in the corner, and some room to maneuver, Amis backs up and slingshots his way over the ropes to the outside for Austin only to find Austin has rolled last-minute out of the way and Amis collides with the concrete!
NINA APPLEBAUM: OUCH!
BRAD STOKES: Not the nicest of ways to make it to the outside, that’s for sure.
American Tommy's music blasts through the speakers and American Tommy walks out. AWE personnel bring out a desk and a chair and place it at the top of the ramp.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What is this now?
The crowd already on their feet start cheering. Benny Stevens is standing at the front of the ring with his attention to American Tommy surprisingly smiling. Dominic Lawson is sitting in the back left corner of the ring holding the back of his head while catching his breath. Austin Gale and Amis Shelton are laying outside the ring after their recent fierce altercation. American Tommy starts pandering to the crowd.
AMERICAN TOMMY: So, here's the thing. Benny was in Vegas the other week and was tweeting up a storm about hanging with other wrestlers, but that isn't the true story. It was a cover story! Should Harry Potter tell you guys what Benny Stevens was really doing in Vegas?
The crowd starts chanting "Yes" while American Tommy's smile grows even larger.
BRAD STOKES: This kid is going to blow the roof of the joint with a pop like that.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Benny, would you like to tell them?
Benny Stevens just grins and shrugs his shoulders not saying a word. American Tommy scratches the side of his face with a smirk and brings the microphone back up to his mouth.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Well, don't say I never gave you a chance. Not giving a journalist of my caliber a comment on a story. Who do you think you are? Trump?
American Tommy starts pacing back and forth on top of the ramp. He stops in the middle and stands in front of the desk looking down at Benny Stevens.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Benny Stevens would tell you that he was helping out Zoe Chaos, but an owl dropped a letter off at my desk CONFIRMING that was a lie. You see the pictures I have received tell a completely different story. A story about male midget hookers and urination.
BRAD STOKES: Funny coincidence. I just published a fan-fic about this.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You’re so well versed. Do tell.
BRAD STOKES: I’ll leave that up to Harry Pooper, there.
The crowd starts cheering and clapping at what American Tommy is saying, feeding into his ever growing ego even more.
AMERICAN TOMMY: You see, Benny Stevens likes to frequent the Red Light district when he is Vegas and I'm not saying that to judge him. Vegas, Hookers, possibly a little blow...it is what it is. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...usually, but not this story. You see, Benny was cruising down the street in his rented Woody Wagon pretending to holla at some chicks. He was hollaring at them, but he had no intentions of taking them home. You see, he saw these two 4 foot tall pot belly bearded midgets that caught his eye two blocks down.
BRAD STOKES: Keeping in mind: this story is true.
The crowd cheers as American Tommy smiles and Benny Stevens just shakes his head. Austin and Amis have recovered and are standing outside the ring listening to American Tommy.
AMERICAN TOMMY: So, Benny here, whips his whip around the block and goes back to find these two. Being the sly person he is and trying to pick up prostitutes he pulls up to these two chubby bastards and puts his car in park, lays on the horn, turns on his flashers and starts yelling at them to come over to his car. As they waddled their short little legs over to the car, Benny Stevens mouth dropped when he realized who they were!
American Tommy points to the AlphaTron screen and a badly photo shopped picture appears on the screen.
AMERICAN TOMMY: You guys want to know who the two men were? I just won't tell you, I'll show you!
American Tommy points to the screen again and it's the same image, but from a different angle. The photo shopped faces on the two men are Amis Shelton and Austin Gale.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Those two midget men weren't actually midgets at all! They were Austin Gale and Amis Shelton!
The crowd roars with laughter as American Tommy puts his feet up in his desk and leans back on his chair. Amis Shelton and Austin Gale, groggily recovering on the outside and seeing the screen are not amused, but Benny Stevens is still smiling in the ring. American Tommy continues speaking.
AMERICAN TOMMY: So while Amis Shelton's wife is busy preparing to bring a child into the world and YoYo was recovering from a brutal match that ended up with her getting burns on her face, these two...
American Tommy points at Amis Shelton and Austin Gale.
AMERICAN TOMMY: These two were walking the district looking for some dick to suck! The only thing is that Benny Stevens wasn't looking for his dick to be blown. No, No, No! He was looking to urinate on someone because he heard R. Kelly did it and R. Kelly is Benny Steven's hero. So, the three of them get talking and it must not be going Benny Steven's way, because the next thing you know Benny Stevens is yelling "But I'm a Stuntman!"
American Tommy motions for the crowd to quiet down.
AMERICAN TOMMY: You see, they were like, "Nah man, we just want to suck some dick." and Benny's like, "Nah man, I don't want that. Golden shower up in this bitch." Finally, Benny says something about anal that my source didn't catch, but Austin Gale shook his head and was like "Yah, I'm into that. I've been doing ass training so I can take like 10 inches now." Next thing you know the two hop into Benny's Woody wagon and they all go on their merry way!
The crowd starts cheering as American Tommy is reveling in the attention that everybody is giving him.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Well, let's not forget about Dominic Lawson, Benny. Well, you shouldn't because...well, you should turn around.
Dominic Lawson is to his feet and gives American Tommy a thumbs up. Benny Stevens turns around and gets greeted with a kick to the face from Lawson.
AMERICAN TOMMY: Thanks for last Friday, Lawson!
Dominic Lawson goes for the pin as the ref hits the mat for the count.
1…
Amis Shelton and Austin Gale exhaustedly climb to their feet!
AMERICAN TOMMY: My name is Harry Potter and this has been the news. REAL news, to you!
American Tommy stands up and mic drops the microphone onto the desk and walk to the back as the fighting continues in the ring and the crowd cheering for the match, but mostly for him....because he's a star.
2…
Amis and Austin slide into the ring…
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
BRAD STOKES: You’ve got to be bloody kidding me…
“I Fought The Law” by the Clash kicks in on the speakers as Dom Lawson is up and quickly sliding out of the ring with an arm raised, the other pointing arrogantly into the ring at Amis and Austin who are stunned at what just happened!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… and NEW #1 Contender for the Resilience Championship…. DOM… THE LAW…. LAWWWWWSONNN!!!
Dom backs his way up the ramp as Benny climbs to his feet and shakes his head in disappointment
NINA APPLEBAUM: Gotta hand it to American Tommy, he sure knows how to capture the imagination!
BRAD STOKES: I can’t believe Dom Lawson won that match…
NINA APPLEBAUM: Neither can Amis, Austin and Benny. Bound to be some fallout after a finish like that. But right now, I'm getting word there's an impending commotion going on in one of the locker rooms. We take you there now.
The scene opens up inside of James Radford's locker room as he's putting the final touches on his gear before the biggest match of his young career. Bobby Benson calmly watches the proceedings with his arms draped over his chest, his bull horn dangling from his side. James briefly glances in Bobby's direction, and with a frustrated sigh, barks out a response to the buzzards gaze.
JAMES RADFORD: What?
BOBBY BENSON: Nothing, I was just wondering if you gave some thought to what we discussed last week.
James shakes his head, and with disgust clear on his face, he turns towards his manager.
JAMES RADFORD: Do you really want to get into this now?
BOBBY BENSON: Seems as good a time as any. I'm just wondering if I need to pay a visit to Hunter Storms before we go out there.
The comment strikes a nerve, and James takes a few steps towards Benson before getting control of himself. With a sneer, he waves the wiry man off, and continues getting ready.
JAMES RADFORD: No, Bobby. We're good. Matter of fact, if you wouldn't mind, I need something out of my bag. It's in the shower room.
BOBBY BENSON: Sure, kid. Don't say I didn't ever do anything for ya.
Bobby makes his way into the bathroom, and no sooner has he passed the door frame the door suddenly slams shut. Bobby spins around just in time to hear some furniture being scooted across the floor, and he makes a mad dash back to the door to try and escape, but it's already too late. Bobby beats on the wall with his fists, fire in his eyes.
BOBBY BENSON: JAMES! JAMES! You best let me out of here, or I swear to....
JAMES RADFORD: (Through the door) Now, Bobby. A man of your years shouldn't be getting so worked up. Hell, you might have a stroke or something, and we don't want that. Just sit tight, and you'll be out in a little while.
Bobby's eyes go wide, listening as Radford's footfalls lead away from the door.
BOBBY BENSON: JAMES! GOD DAMN IT! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!
But there is no answer, and Bobby Benson finds himself stuck alongside the cameraman who shrugs at their misfortune. With a huff, he palms the camera and shoves it out of his face, causing the scene to cut.
JAMES RADFORD: What?
BOBBY BENSON: Nothing, I was just wondering if you gave some thought to what we discussed last week.
James shakes his head, and with disgust clear on his face, he turns towards his manager.
JAMES RADFORD: Do you really want to get into this now?
BOBBY BENSON: Seems as good a time as any. I'm just wondering if I need to pay a visit to Hunter Storms before we go out there.
The comment strikes a nerve, and James takes a few steps towards Benson before getting control of himself. With a sneer, he waves the wiry man off, and continues getting ready.
JAMES RADFORD: No, Bobby. We're good. Matter of fact, if you wouldn't mind, I need something out of my bag. It's in the shower room.
BOBBY BENSON: Sure, kid. Don't say I didn't ever do anything for ya.
Bobby makes his way into the bathroom, and no sooner has he passed the door frame the door suddenly slams shut. Bobby spins around just in time to hear some furniture being scooted across the floor, and he makes a mad dash back to the door to try and escape, but it's already too late. Bobby beats on the wall with his fists, fire in his eyes.
BOBBY BENSON: JAMES! JAMES! You best let me out of here, or I swear to....
JAMES RADFORD: (Through the door) Now, Bobby. A man of your years shouldn't be getting so worked up. Hell, you might have a stroke or something, and we don't want that. Just sit tight, and you'll be out in a little while.
Bobby's eyes go wide, listening as Radford's footfalls lead away from the door.
BOBBY BENSON: JAMES! GOD DAMN IT! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!
But there is no answer, and Bobby Benson finds himself stuck alongside the cameraman who shrugs at their misfortune. With a huff, he palms the camera and shoves it out of his face, causing the scene to cut.
Anastasia Hayden VS. Caroline O'Hara Burchill
DING! DING! DING!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And we’re off! Semi-finals of the Alpha Cup, the winner goes on to face the winner of Radford and Fantana, the loser walks away empty-handed back to the drawing board. No turning back now.
Inside the ring both Ana Hayden and Caroline Burchill one another with high energy before muscling in and locking up.
BRAD STOKES: I’m conflicted here, Nina. If Ana loses, my love affair with Caroline will miraculously be rekindled. But if Ana wins… what will I wear to our wedding?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Why don’t you wear one of Ana’s Spaghetti shirts?
BRAD STOKES: I am wearing one of her Spaghetti shirts.
NINA APPLEBAUM: What?! Oh. I’m amazed I didn’t notice that.
BRAD STOKES: It’s been on display in all it’s pastafied glory this entire time, Nina. I took my jacket off in the john to show it off, which reminds me: I LOST MY DAMN JACKET. Send help.
Caroline angrily rams Ana’s face into the turnbuckle pad before inverting a suplex and SLAMMING Ana down hard onto the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: No love lost between these two.
BRAD STOKES: This feud should be over by now. It’s 2017, Nina. Our society is too progressive to drag along ancient grudges like that of my former love and my new flame.
Caroline aims a hard hitting elbow for Ana, but Ana Hayden rolls away quickly and unleashes a hard kick to the seated Caroline’s head that fells her!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Ana Hayden goes for the quick cover!
ON—
BRAD STOKES: Not even a one count. She must not have had her carbs before the match.
Ana and Caroline are both up to their feet in a hurry, with Ana stepping back and sending a few prompting jabs at Caroline Burchill but she easily locks on a flying armbar onto Ana and forces her to the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Skilled armbar there by Caroline Burchill!
BRAD STOKES: Ana’s too close to the ropes.
Sure enough, Ana reaches furiously for the nearby rope break which she gets. Theo Refano forces Caroline to release the hold which she does very reluctantly, keeping the armbar on strong up to a 3 count before finally letting go and rising back to her feet, even giving Ana a stern kick to the back almost as a warning.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Caroline Burchill getting a talking to by Theo Refano now.
BRAD STOKES: What’s he gonna do. Look at her cross-eyed? Caroline’s just marking her territory.
Ana favors her arm as she rises to her feet, and Caroline ignores the official, brushing him off and gripping Ana’s head and slamming her down hard into the canvas with a bulldog she transfers immediately into a seated armbar, once more trapping Ana’s arm in a painful submission lock!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Caroline is going to work on Ana Hayden’s arm! Threatening to snap that arm right off with that amount of pressure!
BRAD STOKES: Well, what the hell does she need two arms for anyway? It takes one good arm for a handjob.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You’re disgusting.
BRAD STOKES: I’m trying to make the most of a missing jacket here, Nina. Cut me some slack. I’m wearing a spaghetti shirt, for god’s sake.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I thought it was a confession of love.
BRAD STOKES: That doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Ana, once more, reaches the ropes, and once more Caroline holds on to the armbar for illegal seconds before complying with Theo Refano’s urgings to let go!
NINA APPLEBAUM: She’s going to get herself disqualified.
BRAD STOKES: She’s a loose cannon. I like that. If this were the movie Lethal Weapon Caroline Burchill would be Mel Gibson and so would I cause no one ever wants to be Danny Glover.
Caroline forces Ana to her feet and sends her for the ropes with a strong Irish Whip! Ana hits the corner and acrobatically flips her way up the turnbuckle and lands onto the apron like she’d planned it. Caroline charges Ana, and Ana lands a stiff kick through the ropes to Caroline’s midsection to double her over, then uses all of her strength to suplex Caroline up and over the ropes down onto the outside!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Vicious suplex there by Ana Hayden!
BRAD STOKES: She warned Caroline that this was going to happen. Like you said, there’s bad blood between these two and Ana’s made it her mission to make sure it ends here tonight. As violently as possible.
NINA APPLEBAUM: They both have said that.
BRAD STOKES: Yeah but Ana’s gonna put out so I’m siding with her.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Typical.
Ana leaps down onto the fallen Caroline Burchill, double-stomping her where she lays and inciting a raucous groan of sympathy from the crowd!
1!
Ana lays into the fallen Caroline with stiff kicks and angry stomps clearly intended to injure!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Theo Refano starts in the count. This little war these two have been caught in for months has ranged over two federations and most assuredly comes to a climax tonight.
BRAD STOKES: Is that innuendo?
NINA APPLEBAUM: No.
BRAD STOKES: Dammit.
Ana grips Caroline up to her feet and sends her to the metal guardrail where she collides stiffly with her back and winces in sheer pain!
2!
Ana showboats momentarily for the fans as she makes her way to a clearly wounded Caroline.
BRAD STOKES: She’s got an Appetite for Destruction, Nina. Which, coincidentally enough, had spaghetti on the cover of that aptly titled Guns N’ Roses album. Isn’t that weird? It all fits together. Ana Hayden is Axl Rose.
NINA APPLEBAUM: You really need your jacket back.
BRAD STOKES: Are the walls closing in on us? Is it getting darker?
Ana swings Caroline for the steel steps only to be surprised as Caroline reverses momentum and sends Ana careening into the steel steps and spills over them with a loud crash!
3!
NINA APPLEBAUM: My announce partner seems to have entered into some sort of fugue state and Ana Hayden and Caroline Burchill are seemingly trying to enter the other into the same!
Caroline lays a strong beating down onto Ana with a flurry of stomps before heaving Ana up to her feet and setting her up for a suplex only for Ana to brace herself, reverse the momentum into a tornado DDT that sends them BOTH down hard onto the scattered steel steps!
4!
NINA APPLEBAUM: CRASH LANDING! BRADLEY! YOU’RE MISSING THE NEAR-DEATH CARNAGE!!!
BRAD STOKES: There is no Bradley, only Zuul.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Oh. Good.
Ana and Caroline lay in a painful pool of scattered steel steps. The camera gets a great top down angle of both of them sprawled out breathing heavily looking close to unconscious.
5!
NINA APPLEBAUM: If Bradley were coherent right now he’d probably be absolutely giddy these two might be dead. Oh—I see signs of life, nevermind, Brad!
Caroline and Ana slowly but surely pick themselves out of the wreckage of the ring steps.
6!
Both women raise up to a seat looking stunned, not even noticing each other at this moment as Caroline and Ana stagger their way up to one knee before laying eyes on one another. The crowd is pumped as they innocently rise to their feet before laying into one another with a surprising series of rapid fire punches before Caroline SLAMS Ana’s head off the ring apron and rolls her inside complete with angry, gritted teeth!
7!
BRAD STOKES: And we’re back! Who died?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Where were you?!
BRAD STOKES: Astral Projecting my consciousness to a party with Gozer the Gozarian and Thog the Netherspawn at the Nexus of all realities. No one died, I see.
Caroline is back inside the ring and laying a beating down onto Ana Hayden with a series of mounted punches before Caroline rises up and eyes the top rope!
NINA APPLEBAUM: She’s going up top!
Caroline mounts the turnbuckle and targets Ana, a near sitting duck! And then Caroline launches into a moonsault into a double-foot stomp that has the crowd roaring!
NINA APPLEBAUM: The Burchill Calling! Caroline goes for the cover!
1…
2…
THR---!!!!
BRAD STOKES: Unbelievable! Ana Hayden is NOT dead, everybody!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Caroline can’t believe it! She is angrily arguing with Theo Refano about a delayed count.
BRAD STOKES: It was a delayed count! Caroline had it!
Ana Hayden is stirring, clearly in pain, using the ropes for leverage to help her stand. Caroline’s had enough of her conversation with Theo Refano, notices Ana Hayden and goes back to work, laying into Ana with a series of stiff punches before sending her to the ropes! On the rebound Ana Hayden surprises with a single-leg dropkick!
NINA APPLEBAUM: She was only Seventeen!!! Ana Hayden goes for the cover! Looking to advance!
1…
2…
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
“Internal Monologue” by Mind Eraser pounds onto the speaker system as Ana Hayden rises to her feet sluggishly and clearly in pain!
BRAD STOKES: Looks like my heart will go on!
NINA APPLEBAUM: If you mean Ana has made it into the finals of the Alpha Cup, then yes.
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… Advancing to the finals of the Alpha Cup Tournament…. ANASTASIA…. HAAYYYYYYYYYYDDDDEEEEN!
NINA APPLEBAUM: It was everything we had hoped it would be in a rivalry, but at the end of the day, only one of these two women could advance.
BRAD STOKES: Kudos to Caroline for kicking the shit out of Ana Hayden though.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Is that an impolite way of remarking that Caroline could just as easily have won that match?
BRAD STOKES: I’d like to think of it as an invitation for her to come to my hotel room after the show. If the cameras were on me and not on the ring and Ana Hayden right now, everyone would see my eyebrows wagging suggestively.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Good thing. We’ll be back fight fans with our main event!
A deserted wasteland. Bedraggled feet and tattered clothing march through the desert. Slow lift of the camera upward to see a family, Mother, Father, Son and Daughter, marching thirstily through the desert.
LITTLY TIMMY: Are we there yet?
Little Timmy asks hoarsely as the father is too exhausted to answer, looking ready to collapse. The march has been going for hours, days, maybe months and they’re so close to dropping! They make it to the crest of a sand dune, and it’s like mana from heaven has fallen! Eyes light up as they see the oasis they’ve been searching for.
The camera pans around to behold their glorious vision!
A USED CAR LOT!
Amazingly generic Mexican-themed music starts in as we fix on a mustachioed, pancho wearing overly exuberant salesman walking between rows of cars from the 1950s.
CRAZY CARLOS: I’M CRAZY CARLOS! WELCOME TO MY USED CAR LOT!
Panning, sweeping shots of all the amazing deals on Chevrolet Bel Air’s, T-Bird’s, Mustangs and more! The family we just watched walking through the desert is amazed!
MOM: LOOK AT THE PRICES!
CRAZY CARLOS: That’s right! PRICED TO MOVE! You don’t like the price? I’ll consider any trades you might offer! Hell, I’ll even take your (BLEEP)ing kids! That’s right, I’m so crazy I’m practically giving these mother (BLEEP)ers away!
The mom and dad quickly cover their kids ears at the sound of Crazy Carlos’ expletive use, yet the smile remains!
DAD: This is so great, Cracy Carlos! My family have been searching the desert for weeks for your dealership!
CRAZY CARLOS: *clearly insane laughter* That’s right you sons of {BLEEP} I’m on the run from the law so I have a limited inventory, and I gotta stash it all in the middle of {BLEEP}ing nowhere! HAHA!
The family can overlook Crazy Carlos, as the dad is just so excited to have finally found the dealership!
DAD: This is awesome! Do you have a 1960’s Corvette Stingray?!
The music is scratched horribly to a stop as a tire iron blasts through a car windshield. Crazy Carlos has gotten deathly serious, wielding a tire iron threateningly at the family.
CRAZY CARLOS: What’d I say, mother(BLEEP)er? I said 19(BLEEP)ing 50s. You’re buying this (BLEEP)ing car!
The family is stunned as Carlos has turned deranged.
DAD: B-but… you just broke the windshield.
CRAZY CARLOS: Do I look like a mother(BLEEP)ing windshield repairman, you (BLEEP)ing mother (BLEEP)er?! HELL NO! You’re buying this (BLEEP)ing car.
DAD: But—
CRAZY CAROLOS: What’d I just say, mother (BLEEP)er? Buy it. Buy it. Buy it. Buy it. Buy it. Buy it. Or I’ll (BLEEP)ing kill you and your whole family.
DAD: O-okay. I’ll buy it.
Carlos’ smile returns along with the awesome music.
CRAZY CARLOS: That’s great! I knew we could cut a deal! HAHAHA! Sorry about threatening your family and all that.
They shake hands like they've always been friends, the family looks terrified. Carlos looks to the camera with a big smile.
CRAZY CARLOS: Another (BLEEP)ing satisfied customer!
Cut to a shot of Carlos standing in the middle of his sweeping car lot!
CRAZY CARLOS: Crazy Carlos’ Car Sales! I’m here to get you into a vehicle today!
Zoom in on a closeup of Carlos suddenly serious.
CRAZY CARLOS: Or I'll (BLEEP)ing kill ya.
The Mexican music plays us out!
ANNOUNCER: Crazy Carlos' Car Sales! Somewhere in the middle of the desert, serving anyone who survives the voyage!
Zack Fantana VS. "Country Fine" James Radford
NINA APPLEBAUM: And we’re back! Take it away, Marshall Douglas.
BRAD STOKES: Hot DAMN, he’s a snappy dresser.
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Ladies and Gentleman may I direct your attention to the ring for our Main Event of the evening.
Standing in the ring, separated by the always colorful Marshall Douglass in center ring are James Radford and Zack Fantana.
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: This match will be a one-fall semi-final match in the AWE’s Alpha Cup tournament. In this corner, hailing from Jackson, Mississippi weighing in at 256 lbs… he is… “Country Fine”…. JAMES…. RADDDDFOOOORDDDD!!
The crowd pops as James Radford raises an arm to signal himself out.
BRAD STOKES: That’s funny, where’s Bobby Benson?
NINA APPLEBAUM: Are you for real, right now?
BRAD STOKES: What?
NINA APPLEBAUM: There was an entire backstage segment explaining that earlier.
BRAD STOKES: I’m not wearing my jacket, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t see how these are related.
BRAD STOKES: Then you haven’t been paying attention.
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: And his opponent… hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania weighing 205 lbs with a perfect 5 and 0 record. He is the reigning Resilience Champion… ZACK…. FANTANAAAAAA!
The crowd pops loudly as Zack raises his arm and gloats across the ring at James Radford who narrows his eyes.
MARSHAL DOUGLAS: LET’S GET READY TO RUMMMMBLLLEE!
BRAD STOKES: Tension you could cut with a knife.
NINA APPLEBAUM: These two have made sure to get on each other’s nerves the entire lead-up to this match.
DING! DING! DING!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And now the sparks will fly!
Radford aims for a lock up with Fantana but Zack is far too fast for the bigger man and ducks him and gives him a swift kick on the ass for good measure.
NINA APPLEBAUM: A little playful taunting there from Zack Fantana.
BRAD STOKES: He’s the champion, Nina. That’s what champions do.
NINA APPLEBAUM: That’s debatable.
BRAD STOKES: I refuse to debate anything without my lucky jacket.
Radford whips around and delivers a swift back elbow to Zack that staggers him and keeps him from gloating too long. As Radford goes to follow up he’s hit with a surprise step-up enziguri from Zack that knocks Country Fine sideways. Fantana follows that up by charging Radford and aiming for an Overcastle that Radford slips out of the way of letting Fantana, instead, land squarely on his tailbone!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nice awareness there by Radford!
But Fantana doesn’t let the miss phase him for long, he lifts a stiff kick up into Radford’s jaw then lands drives him into the canvas with a headscissor takedown!
BRAD STOKES: Fantana with the cover!
1..
TW—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Not there yet!
Fantana grips Radford by the head and drags him to his feet only to be greeted by some rabbit punches to the midsection followed by a hearty snap suplex by James Radford! To keep Fantana grounded, Radford drops an elbow but finds nobody home as Fantana rolls out of the way and up to his feet! And sends Radford back down to the canvas with a quick standing drop kick!
BRAD STOKES: Strength meets speed. Paramount versus Resilience.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Fantana is hardly indiciative of the entirety of the Resilience Division, Bradley. There’s some folks just as big and strong and James Radford in the Resilience Division.
BRAD STOKES: Again, I say, I’m not wearing my jacket, go easy on me. My logic centers aren’t working.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Is that going to be your excuse for very long?
BRAD STOKES: Jacket. That’s all I’m going to say. No questions, please.
NINA APPLEBAUM: But you wrestle without your jacket.
BRAD STOKES: That’s different. Ask anyone. Wrestling naked is honest. Unlike these two. Couple’a liars.
Fantana’s slingshot himself off the ropes and landed a nifty moonsault and goes for the cover!
1..
2…
THR--
NINA APPLEBAUM: Nearfall!
Zack draws James Radford up to his feet and irish whips him to the ropes. On the rebound Radford shoulder blocks Fantana mightily, dropping him to the canvas like a sack of bricks! Radford drops a series of jumping knees to keep Fantana from rolling away before Radford bounces off the ropes, does a shimmy shake dance and dropping yet another commanding knee drop onto Fantana!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Radford Jam! Radford with the cover!
1…
2..
THR—
BRAD STOKES: Without Bobby Benson at ringside this match feels vanilla. And if you dare question me—
NINA APPLEBAUM: I know, I know, you lost your jacket.
BRAD STOKES: Amen.
Radford stands Fantana up and slams stiff rights into Fantana before irish whipping Zack into the corner then charging in after for him a splash! Fantana dodges out of the way and Radford connects hard, chest-first with the turnbuckle and Fantana wastes no time absolutely slamming Radford down to the canvas with an inverted DDT!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Fantana with the cover!
1…
2…
BRAD STOKES: NO! Radford kicks out at two.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Fantana has gradually shifted from taunting to taking Radford more seriously as this match has progressed.
BRAD STOKES: He wants that Alpha Cup, Nina. It’s been Zack’s mandate to clean house since he got here. A win over Radford solidifies Fantana as the dominant competitor not only in the Resilience Division, but plants a pretty sturdy claim over the Paramount Division as well.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Zack Fantana has promised to immediately challenge for the Paramount Championship if he—
BRAD STOKES: When he wins the Alpha Cup, Nina. Not if.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I stand corrected. And you did all that without your jacket.
BRAD STOKES: What can I say, it’s been a strange night.
Fantana is on his feet about to follow up on Radford with a falling fist before James wisely rolls away letting Fantana punch nothing but canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: And Radford makes his way outside to regroup.
BRAD STOKES: Not for long!
Fantana moves quickly to intercept Radford before he’s given too much time outside. Fantana grips the ropes and slingshots up and over to the outside and WOWs the crowd with a hurricanrana!
NINA APPLEBAUM: AMAZING!
BRAD STOKES: He’s Zack Fantana, Nina. Why so surprised?!
NINA APPLEBAUM: He never fails to impress!
1!
The crowd is cheering as Fantana climbs to his feet as Radford is staggering up to a stand. Fantana meets him and lays into him with a series of stiff shots to the chin before slamming Radford down to the concrete with a swinging reverse STO!
BRAD STOKES: Can you dig it?! Zack is one bad mother-
NINA APPLEBAUM: Shut your mouth!
BRAD STOKES: Talking about Zack!
2!
Fantana drags Radford up to his feet and rolls Radford back into the ring, following him up to the apron, onto the ropes where Fantana slingshots into the ring and lands a splash onto Radford and goes for the cover!
1..
2..
THR—
NINA APPLEBAUM: Still unable to keep Radford’s shoulders down!
Fantana glares at Theo Refano.
BRAD STOKES: That idiot ref’s counting too slow.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t think he is.
BRAD STOKES: Zack Fantana is never wrong, Nina.
NINA APPLEBAUM: He is right now. Theo Refano’s counts have been on point all night. It’s the competitor’s who have been unsuccessful at keeping their opponent’s pinned.
BRAD STOKES: That’s some blasphemous shit right there.
Fantana rises to his feet at the same time Radford is climbing to his feet as well! Fantana rushes him only to be given a stiff kick to the knee from Radford and that staggers Fantana! Radford bends Fantana into a piledriver clutch and wastes no time delivering him down to the canvas!
NINA APPLEBAUM: HILLBILLY DELUXE! HILLBILLY DELUXE!! RADFORD WITH THE COVER!
1..
2..
THR—
BRAD STOKES: FANTANA KICKED OUT!
NINA APPLEBAUM: HOW ON EARTH DID HE KICK OUT?!
BRAD STOKES: He’s the Resilience champion, Nina!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Slow count, maybe?
BRAD STOKES: Don’t be preposterous!
Radford can’t believe it either, as Fantana lays heaving in air and the crowd is wild and on its feet.
BRAD STOKES: Without Bobby Benson this guy is NOTHING!
James Radford is stunned as he climbs to his feet, also breathing heavily after this marathon contest. He grips Fantana up to a stand and lays into him with a hard haymaker that staggers the Resilience Champion! Then another! Then another before Fantana stuns him with a double knee facebreaker!!!!
NINA APPLEBAUM: LUCID DREAMS!!! FANTANA GOES FOR THE COVER!
1…
2…
THR—
BRAD STOKES: I DON’T BELIEVE IT!
NINA APPLEBAUM: JAMES RADFORD KICKED OUT! THEY BOTH KICKED OUT FROM EACH OTHER’S FINISHING MANEUVERS!
BRAD STOKES: SLOW COUNT! THAT IS A SLOW COUNT!
Both men are laid out on the mat as Theo Refano stands over them to check on either of them.
NINA APPLEBAUM: I don’t think anyone can believe what we’re seeing.
BRAD STOKES: I’ve seen that Alpha Cup up close, Nina. I can believe it. These two want it, and bad.
Fantana rolls onto all fours panting heavily as Radford recovers on his back. Slowly, Fantana climbs to his feet, and drags Radford with him, the look of exhaustion marring both of their movements as Fantana unloads one hard fist into Radford’s face… then another before irish whipping Radford into the corner! It takes some energizing, but Fantana charges him in the corner and hits him with a shining wizard that lays Radford out into the middle of the ring!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Fantana’s going up top!
Fantana mounts the turnbuckles and rising to a stand, readying for the Godsend… and then he launches into the corkscrew shooting star press only for Radford to roll out of the way!!!!
BRAD STOKES: HE MISSED!
NINA APPLEBAUM: A lot of pain there for Fantana!
Radford is exhausted too, barely moving right next to Fantana who is clutching his stomach in sheer agony.
NINA APPLEBAUM: This has been a nail-biter of a match!
Radford stirs slowly, needing to use the nearby ropes to climb to his feet. He sees his opening, gripping Fantana up to his feet and once more setting him up into a piledriver then DOWN!
NINA APPLEBAUM: A second Hillbilly Deluxe!! RADFORD WITH THE COVER!
BRAD STOKES: SOMEBODY SLOW THAT COUNT!!!!
1…
2..
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
“Guitars and Cadillacs” by Dwight Yoakum plays as Radford is helped to his feet by the official.
NINA APPLEBAUM: A stunner of a match ends with a bang tonight!
MARSHALL DOUGLAS: Here is your winner… advancing to the finals of the Alpha Cup Tournament…. “Country Fine”… JAMES… RADDDDFOOOORRRD!!!
BRAD STOKES: I refuse to accept this outcome!
NINA APPLEBAUM: You don’t have to accept it, but it is what it is, Bradley. Both of these men left everything they had in that ring just now.
BRAD STOKES: While I agree with you, and my lack of a luckty jacket renders me incapable of fully arguing, I still don’t like the fact Fantana lost. He’s pretty much the Pharoah of the AWE.
NINA APPLEBAUM: Well, everyone takes a loss sometime. It looks like it’s going to be James Radford squaring off against Anastasia Hayden for the right to raise the Alpha Cup at Executive Action.
BRAD STOKES: Well, then. I guess that makes up for this particular disappointment, right? Ana Hayden’s gonna cripple James Radford, and if she doesn’t, I’ll marry her anyway, how about that?
NINA APPLEBAUM: How about that, AWEphiles, a match and a marriage all but promised for Executive Action. What a show it will be. In no more than 2 weeks time, we’ll be with you to witness history unfold as titles may change hands, the first ever Alpha Cup winner will be crowned, and quite possibly we will witness control of this company change hands!
BRAD STOKES: Look forward to it!
NINA APPLEBAUM: See you then, fans! I’m Nina Applebaum.
BRAD STOKES: And I’m Brad Stokes. Good night!
NINA APPLEBAUM: Good night.
Back at the Hospital Thirteen smiles warmly. Beside her Francis is asleep. On nearby seats, looking gladly back at her are Tony and Kassandrah. Todd Reid has yet to return.
THIRTEEN: Wow. Still a great show. I’m really sorry I’ve missed it the past couple of weeks.
KASSANDRAH: It’s not your fault.
Francis snores.
THIRTEEN: Sounds like this Executive Action supershow is going to be really great.
TONY CHU: And now you finally have someone to represent you in that ladder match.
KASSANDRAH: Even if I wouldn’t mind if Dare won that match, Thirteen, I think it’s more important that T.S. Doesn’t win.
THIRTEEN: I hear you.
KASSANDRAH: You said he was here?
THIRTEEN: He was. He tried to kill me.
KASSANDRAH: He knows he’s done for, that’s why.
THIRTEEN: I don’t know, Kass. He’s always got something up his sleeve. He’s threatened to take us all out if he has to.
TONY CHU: He wouldn’t dare.
THIRTEEN: I wouldn’t put anything past that man.
KASSANDRAH: Well, for the time being, let’s just make sure you get out of this hospital bed. I’m sure that whatever T.S. is planning, it can’t be that bad…
Cut backstage once more, and this time the cameras head to Thomas Shane Elliot’s office. Where T.S. is just removing his jacket, his hair mildly mussed, he’s obviously just arrived back in his office with an annoyed sigh of frustration.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Nothing’s going my way.
T.S. sits down with a slump into his chair and looks to his security monitors and sees a some sort of a darkened figure approaching his office door. He panics, quickly pushing the button for the security lock on his door, but just then the doors to his office burst open.
T.S. freezes, his eyes widened.
The camera pans, revealing the masked man standing in the doorway. As the man strides in, a folded chair in hand, T.S. squirms a little in his seat. The man raises the chair, then unfolds it, sitting in front of the desk, uninvited. T.S. bristles at the sight before him.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I assume you’re this mysterious individual who’s been wandering my halls and making life miserable for one of my interviewers?
The man tilts his head a little, the cold eyes beneath the mask staring out, but no words forthcoming. T.S. straightens his tie and exhales loudly in annoyance.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Why are you here?
The masked man leans forward, resting his elbows against the COO’s desk. He speaks, the voice distorted due to the mask.
MASKED MAN: We need to talk.
As T.S. tentatively sits forward and nods, the feed suddenly ends.
THIRTEEN: Wow. Still a great show. I’m really sorry I’ve missed it the past couple of weeks.
KASSANDRAH: It’s not your fault.
Francis snores.
THIRTEEN: Sounds like this Executive Action supershow is going to be really great.
TONY CHU: And now you finally have someone to represent you in that ladder match.
KASSANDRAH: Even if I wouldn’t mind if Dare won that match, Thirteen, I think it’s more important that T.S. Doesn’t win.
THIRTEEN: I hear you.
KASSANDRAH: You said he was here?
THIRTEEN: He was. He tried to kill me.
KASSANDRAH: He knows he’s done for, that’s why.
THIRTEEN: I don’t know, Kass. He’s always got something up his sleeve. He’s threatened to take us all out if he has to.
TONY CHU: He wouldn’t dare.
THIRTEEN: I wouldn’t put anything past that man.
KASSANDRAH: Well, for the time being, let’s just make sure you get out of this hospital bed. I’m sure that whatever T.S. is planning, it can’t be that bad…
Cut backstage once more, and this time the cameras head to Thomas Shane Elliot’s office. Where T.S. is just removing his jacket, his hair mildly mussed, he’s obviously just arrived back in his office with an annoyed sigh of frustration.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Nothing’s going my way.
T.S. sits down with a slump into his chair and looks to his security monitors and sees a some sort of a darkened figure approaching his office door. He panics, quickly pushing the button for the security lock on his door, but just then the doors to his office burst open.
T.S. freezes, his eyes widened.
The camera pans, revealing the masked man standing in the doorway. As the man strides in, a folded chair in hand, T.S. squirms a little in his seat. The man raises the chair, then unfolds it, sitting in front of the desk, uninvited. T.S. bristles at the sight before him.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: I assume you’re this mysterious individual who’s been wandering my halls and making life miserable for one of my interviewers?
The man tilts his head a little, the cold eyes beneath the mask staring out, but no words forthcoming. T.S. straightens his tie and exhales loudly in annoyance.
THOMAS SHANE ELLIOT: Why are you here?
The masked man leans forward, resting his elbows against the COO’s desk. He speaks, the voice distorted due to the mask.
MASKED MAN: We need to talk.
As T.S. tentatively sits forward and nods, the feed suddenly ends.