Survive and Conquer match RP thread

[President Jeff]

ALL RP'S FOR THE SURVIVE AND CONQUER MATCH IS TO BE POSTED IN THIS THREAD ONLY. ANY OTHER POST WILL BE DELEATED

Deadline to RP for this match is on January 27th at 9:00pm EST allowing 3 weeks to RP for this match, Any RP's posted after the Deadline time will NOT COUNT. There will be a 1 RP MAX LIMIT and a 4000 WORD MAX LIMIT for this match. Also NO EDITING OF RP'S. Results will be posted Sunday, January 29th. Good Luck to Everyone

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SURVIVE AND CONQUER MATCH
Featuring 86 Wrestlers

Sally Talfourd Vs Johnny Rebel Vs CJ Gates VsKurt Noble Vs Dan Bochner Vs Isamu Suzuki Vs Justice Legal Vs Anthony Bailey Vs Dan Quinn Vs Johnny Knuckles Vs Chris Hart Vs Rory O'Connell Vs Alex Castellanos Vs Spider-Bait Vs Kid Dynamo Vs Keaton Saint Vs Alioth Starre Vs Chaz Dillinger Vs Faith Simpson Vs Crowbar Vs Aspen Chaud Vs Donald Deruty Vs Alexis Terry Vs Marcus Hister Vs Scott Matthews Vs Wake Walker Vs Terry Marvin Vs BAD ASS Vs Adam Young Vs Billy Dork Vs Jason Andrews Vs Halo Vs Ryan Jackson Vs Leon Stone Vs Tony Miranda Vs Whiskey Ayano Vs Assassin Vs Brandy Boyer Vs Gally Po Vs Seth Black Vs Jimmy Helmsmen Vs Juan Ramirez Vs Paradox McSweeney Vs Gabriel Alighieri Vs Alex Black Vs Rob Daniels Vs Alan Christopher Vs MDK Vs Alyssa Casteele Vs Julius Farquhar Vs James Stall Vs Ricky Stanton Vs Zachary Rodell Vs Bryan Laughlin Vs Matt Matlock Vs Christian York Vs Jim Black (FWA) Justin Blade Vs Sayge Jemson Vs Slash Vs SM Raye Vs Giselle Stratten Vs Sophie Oliveria Vs Mark Jackson Vs ArcAngel Vs Angelica Monroe Vs Eliza Gray Vs Vantage Vs Lisa Loriann Lyon Vs Josh Redwood Vs Eric James Vs Brad Jackson Vs Adrien Specter Vs Jessie Goldberg Vs Jacob Davies Vs Ian McCanty Vs Hot Mask Vs Level One Vs Broken Saint Vs Loki Vs Sean Rhodes Vs Seifer Vs Jonny Cedrone Vs Azrael Goeren Vs John Reese Vs Andy D

[Kid Dynamo]

The scene begins black. 

Still black. Right before your instinct to refresh the page, a voice is heard, the voice of Our Hero.

I…am a hero.

I am not a celebrity pandering for attention…

…I am not a mythical creature…

…there is no need for back-story, or secret enemies, or even family. All that I need…is to be... the hero.

Eyes open in the middle of the screen, conquering the screen as if the blackness was merely an eye mask. 

In wrestling, there is usually only two sides: good…and evil. It is easy to know who is good and who is evil, and it is easy to cheer for the good and against the villain.

Tonight, there are no sides, and there are no lines. A 86-sided polygon cannot be bisected.

But if there is no line, then there is no way to cross it. How can one be a villain when one cannot cross the line? If there are no lines to cross and no sides to choose, then…

…who is the villain?

There is a longer pause than normal, and the eyes close, but an answer comes eventually…

…EVERYONE!

Another voice is heard whispering “hey” repeatedly, then a guitar pattern enters your ear canal: Tool’s “Aenima”. It begins to play in full force, though catching itself in irregular loops, making certain lyrical passages coincide with…

…the blackness is pulled away from the screen, and it was indeed a mask, a mask worn by Our Hero. The camera zooms out to his full body, and we can see him as he prepares to pace in front of a green screen that is simply projecting a moving graphic cover from Tool’s AEnema album.

Some say the end is near.
Some say we’ll see Armageddon soon.
I certainly hope we will,
‘cause I sure could use a vacation from this…

Since I came to APW, my mission was simple and crystal-clear: I intended to worry not about myself but about the fate of the #1 wrestling organization in the world. I didn’t care about winning championships as much as I care about earning five stars for my matches. I was indifferent to my success, but intended to be a one-man army elevating the performance level of Action Packed Wrestling. 

Only time will tell if I am the answer, but the question is simple: the fans are looking for a change, and I’m not talking about ratings or irrelevant things of that nature. No, I am talking about the fact that fans have been…

…betrayed; betrayed by villains that no longer care if they are hated, by heroes who no longer care if they are deemed heroic. Yes, wrestling is a sport, but that doesn’t mean that we had to turn our beloved sport, full of might and magic, heroes and villains, trials and triumph, from the gloriousness that it once was to another version of MMA.  Every single wrestler who hears these words, look at yourself in the mirror, and ask yourself: “What am I doing to make the fans care more about me than they do an MMA fighter, or a basketball team, or a particular entrant of the Westminster Dog Show?” 

Do you even notice? Do you even care? OF COURSE YOU DON’T. As long as you get paid, right? This shifting baseline, propelled downward to oblivion by indifference, forces promotion leaders’ hands and the conspiracy of apathy continues to dilute this sport. 

It’s about time that someone gave a damn about something more than themselves and their brand. It’s about time that someone gave a damn about not only winning, but winning in grand fashion, in being an entertaining victor. Sure, anyone can bodyslam an opponent until they stay down for three seconds, but how many of you actually built an arsenal that was breathtaking to watch as well as being painful to receive? How many of you think about ways you can make the fans stand up and cheer your name instead of just thinking how to get to your next payday? The answer is none…

…none of the 85 other entrants of the Survive and Conquer match care about anything more than earning a paycheck and walking away. To Hell with the fans if they want something more, right?

Fret for your Prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your contract and
Fret for your car.

You don’t believe me? I mean, SURELY your favorite mega stars care about the fans, right?

Wrong.

I know this first-hand, because, well, let me tell you a story.

As soon as I was able to, I volunteered my services in this match, looking forward to competing in what has turned into probably the single most quantitatively massive match in professional wrestling history. But, as I entered APW headquarters to officially sign my contract to participate, the talent executive pointed out a clause in the contract requiring me to publish a promo or other hype video that APW could utilize for their propaganda machine to maximize interest in the event, I, of course, had no problem with this endeavor, but blurted out, “But there’s going to be 40 or more people in this one match! I obviously can’t run every single one of them down verbally, so what do you want me to discuss in this hype promo?" He said this, and I quote,

“Talk about what that half-a-million-dollar paycheck would do for you…you know, like everyone does.”

I was taken aback, but it was true after pouring through the archives. Everyone from rookies to icons just spewed on and on about themselves and their benefit and what cars and private jets and other crap it would get them. Those that shied away from the paycheck talk just rambled on and on about how it would benefit their career, how this would rocket them up the ladder to the World or Undisputed Championships…

…oh wait, there it goes, back to money again. Oh okay, I won’t be SO cynical. Maybe they wanted the prestige of winning or at least making the Final four, but, again it was all about what this match could do for them.

No one seemed to care – and I hazard that no one still does – about what they could do for this match. No one thought about just taking the opportunity to give the fans in attendance either live or televised something they would remember forever. See, EVERYONE forgets about the titles. Once you are a former champion, your reign was just an insignificant blurb in the history of this company and this sport. Like I have said before, TRUE IMMORTALITY is only achieved when you give the fans a show that they would remember forever, the kind they would include in their “all-time” rankings on Bleacher Report and such. 

In other words, the last thing on ANYONE’S MIND was YOU THE FAN. Never mind that if you were just as apathetic about them as they are of you, all of us would be unemployed. 

Some say a comet will fall from the sky.
Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves.
Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still.
Followed by millions of dumbfounded dips---s.

But maybe that can change. Hell, I feel like I have already made a noticeable impact on APW and I have only been here a couple of shows. So maybe there is hope. Maybe there is a chance that one person can reinvent the landscape of an entire company from the inside out, and MAYBE there is a way for me to get through to my brethren of competitive combat that there CAN be more to this sport than going through the motions until it’s your turn to wear the championship. 

If there is hope, it is but a distant light at the end of a tunnel. Through this tunnel I must navigate, surrounded on all sides by professionals – I repeat, PROFESSIONALS – that I will have to drag kicking and screaming into the future. What person wants to earn a paycheck when they can get one without effort? What person would want to sacrifice their body when it doesn’t change what appears on their check on Tuesday? I have legitimate and logical answers for questions like these, but it is not about answering them. It’s about getting wrestlers to stop asking them.

I have a long way to go. For every wrestler like Dan Quinn who I can antagonize into becoming one of the great new rookies in APW, even if it is only to eventually glorify ME when I inevitably defeat him, there are wrestlers like Julius Farquhar that will only look at me as “some rookie” and roll his eyes while I propel forward up the ladder. What can I say to guys like that? I want everyone to be a part of a new Golden Age of APW and professional wrestling, but I can’t drag people by the scruff of their necks up the ladder. All I can do is be me and be the answer to the prayers of an increasingly disinterested fan base. Those that are too entrenched in their own effortless mediocrity will just have to be the ones “left behind”.

F--- all these gun-toting hip gangster wannabes.

Of course, the buzz that has been permeating around APW ever since the 5th of January is about “the invaders”. Survive and Conquer has always been a contest that was too big for APW, so it is no surprise that there are entrants from CWC affiliates such as Phoenix Wrestling or independent promotions looking for an opportunity to make a name for themselves such as Galveston sland Wrestling. 

Here’s the part that gets me. Everyone from Azrael Gören to Aspen Chaud to Paradox McSweeney come and crash the party at Overdrive last week. The last two matches of the night – two matches that the fans were really looking forward to, I might add – are deemed completely pointless because idiots like these came in and decided to show of how tough they are and how their promotion is going to walk away the winner of Survive and Conquer. 

However, here’s the problem: WHAT ON EARTH does that have to do with the match itself? Why should I feel the least bit concerned or intimidated because you came out to do a sneak attack OVER THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE MATCH?!? I mean, if your intent as these different collectives was to injure people or “getting the first shot in” before a match, don’t you think the SMART time to cause mayhem would be, I don’t know the one just a few days before the Survive and Conquer show? I can name a dpzen injuries of the top of my head that can be inflicted on the fifth and heal by the 29th. So, in short, no matter what your plan was, it was a stupid plan to begin with and it most definitely failed.

But the best part isn’t even that, it’s BEYOND that. You see, ladies and gentlemen, you all are pretty smart, right? So, let’s just say that the company that you work for was hosting a big sports event in a few weeks. Now, as the boss starts hyping up that day so you’ll be excited to go, some people from another company come in and tell you how they’re going to win the event. Which makes more sense, guys? That these employees “crashed” a secure building that has a detail of personnel specifically trained to prevent disruptive people from entering their building…

…or that they were LET IN!!! I mean, as much as Phil Atken wants to throw Jeff under the bus, let’s be real. ANYONE who was backstage had to pass through security, and therefore everyone in the arena had permission to be there. Doesn’t sound much like a “invasion” to me. 

F--- smiley glad-hands,
With hidden agendas.

Now, I wasn’t planning on singling out EVERY SINGLE opponent I have in this contest, because, well, with 85 people, that’d be a pretty long promo, and I don’t think either you nor I have the energy to withstand that. Nonetheless, some people deserve to get some special attention.

The first man is the APW Undisputed Champion, C.J. Gates. The word I got was that he was one of the first people to sign a contract to participate in the Survive and Conquer match. I also have no doubt that, when he decides to let the fans in on his feelings heading into the match, he will brag about caring about them and doing it for them and everything else. 

Well, Gates, I have a newsflash for you. You talk about being all about the fans, right? Well, guess what the fans want to see at the APW pay-per-view…MAYBE AN UNDISPUTED CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH! When you were so busy polling the audience to get a pulse on what your fans want, did it ever occur to you that fans LIKE WATCHING TITLE MATCHES?!?

I’m on to you, Gates. I totally get why you signed up for the match, and it is incredibly simple: it’s okay to lose Survive and Conquer. This year even more so than previous iterations, there will be a sense of acceptance for the 82 people that don’t make it into the Final Four, where it really matters. “Awww, you lost? That’s okay. Didn’t you see all the talent in that match?” So what can you possibly lose? Nothing, except the respect of the fans. I'm not the only person who can read between the lines and decipher your true intentions. And, frankly, you aren't being very subtle with your attempts to duck out on being a true champion and defending your title. I mean, has there even been a MENTION of a number one contendership? Yes, there is talk that Overdrive champion John Rebel is a deserving candidate, but isn't pigeon-holing the secondary champion as the top primary champion's contender kind of a copout? Moreover, C.J., where are you on television? Where's the proud champion demanding challengers? Oh right. You AREN'T the proud champion, or at least the champion that respects the gold you carry. I'm sure you LOVE being the champion, but when it comes to defending the title...are you just going to rest on your laurels after that Iron Man match? Well, I guess you are.

So, how are the fans supposed to feel about you, Gates? How is the audience supposed to respect you when you are using the Survive and Conquer match as a way to duck out of your duties as champion to defend the title? It's not like we need you in this match. You know more than anyone that the Survive and Conquer match is about allowing the cream of the crop in APW and around the world to rise to the top, wrestlers that DON'T necessarily have the status and reputation of other established icons of the sport. So there's absolutely no reason why you NEED to be in this match. In fact, this pay-per-view is looking pretty thin with you refusing to defend the title. Way to think about the fans, Gates. Way to go. I'm sure they'll remember this when you walk out next week on Overdrive and insist that they cheer you like you are their hero. You are no hero to the fans. You are a hero to yourself, and I guess you can live with that, can't you?

F--- these dysfunctional, insecure actresses.

Now what C.J. Gates is doing by participating in this match is particularly despicable, he is certainly not the only person who is proving his desperation and failure by clinging to this match. I'm talking about wrestlers like Lester Only, Sally Talfourd, and all of these other former APW personalities that abandoned the fans either for early retirement or, worse, choosing the easier competition of indys like Phoenix Wrestling instead of manning up to the big leagues. It's amazing how people like Lester Only - oh I'm sorry, I believe it is customary for me to metaphorically kiss his ring by calling him Level One at least once - but, yeah, guys like Lester who just walk into APW and pretend that they didn't just disappear for months. Yes, fans of Action Packed Wrestling, you must understand that you are supposed to not care when you are abandoned, betrayed, or otherwise ignored by pompous, self-absorbed "legends" who demand genuflection at all times whether or not they deserve it.

Fans, I know that you will still cheer when your heroes from the past return. That moment is full of hope. It's not about that one second in time when that familiar oldie hits the PA system. It's your imagination running wild that this superstar is back for good and he or she will be around for years and years to continue to provide you with the excellent wrestling you remember before. It's a heart-breaking assumption, but it is one that a loyal fan of the company will make every time.

THAT is what makes these burnouts villains in my eyes. People like Sally Talfourd come out and declare that they are going to come back and represent APW at Survive and Conquer...and then come February, she's gone again. Why on earth should anyone care that she came? See, I'm not a big believer in nostalgia, but even if I was, that isn't the point. None of these guys are going to come out and talk about how this is "reliving the glory days" or anything like that. They are going to want you to believe that they are for real and are a credible threat to win the whole thing...

...and then what? Ladies and gentlemen, your 2012 Survive and Conquer winner...Some APW Burnout! And how will you build off of this win? Oh yeah, by dropping off the face of the earth until next year. Thanks for nothing.

Don't just call me pessimist.
Try and read between the lines.
I can't imagine why you wouldn't
Welcome any change...

You know, I have been quite vocal about my quest to change APW for the better by creating a higher standard and expecting everyone - franchise or curtain-jerker - to live by that standard. You know what I keep hearing backstage and on Twitter? "Shut up, rookie!" "Get back in line" "Pay your dues for a few years" and, of course, my favorite "Guys like you come in and flame out all the time".

First of all, let me be crystal clear: there has NEVER been another like me. I have seen what wrestling was like at the turn of the century: underground wrestling was an absolute spectacle. Back then, there were no cushy television deals and people didn't have thousands of matches available on YouTube. We had to survive by being examples of perfection, and perfection we were. The curtain-jerkers of a decade ago would be World Champions in this day and age, but they have all faded by the wayside. The people that replaced them stopped caring about being perfect. They started worrying about merchandise deals, and scoring TV contracts and propelling their success into rap music albums and movie contracts. 

The WRESTLERS all vanished, slaughtered at the sport's Ragnarök, and the combatants that repopulated the wrestling world as the new dawn emerged all went in collusion to create a diluted product. See, if EVERY wrestler mailed it in, how would we know it was mailed in? If EVERY wrestler gave no effort, then what could we call a "no effort" performance?

These modern day superstars don't even realize it sometimes. Guys like Johnny Rebel and Keaton Saint demand that I wait my turn like the sport of wrestling is managed by a "U-R-Next" machine; they don't think about why a promising rookie isn't worth their time, they just do what they have been taught to do: have contempt for anyone who isn't part of the "in crowd". They had to spend months, even years, breaking through and earning a spot in the Good Ol' Boys club, so why shouldn't these other new guys, wait?

Simple: IT'S WRONG!!!

When someone comes into a promotion and declares that they are the next World Champion, what are you supposed to do? You march down to that ring to meet him and you knock him around until he understands that maybe, just maybe, he has some work to do before he tries again.

Do you wanna know why today's stars were taught not to do that, and instead to blow them off and demand that they take their "rightful place" at the opening of the show?

The rookies sometimes win. For every dozen newcomers that are simply spewing hot air, there is one or two that actually CAN hang with the big boys and DOES deserve to go straight to the big boys' table without passing GO or collecting $200. 

But, no one wants to be the one that let a rookie break the system. No one wants to risk putting an end to this shifting baseline and ruin the game for everyone else. NO ONE WANTS TO HAVE TO GIVE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT ANYMORE!

Well, here's my chance to make a change. Here's my chance to break the system down. Survive and Conquer: 86 wrestlers all in it for themselves...well, one is in it for the good of the sport and the good of the fans. But, here, in this gigantic conflagration of combative chaos, the Lester Only's, CJ Gates', Kurt Noble's, and Azrael Gören's can't control the masses like they can in a normal match. There's too many wrestlers from too many promotions to "keep everyone in line". And because of that, their worst fear is possible:

A rookie could win the match.

Invading wrestlers will tell you that winning this match means that their home base is worthy to stand up to APW.

One-time-only Ex-retirees will tell you that winning this match proves that they are still as good as they were when they cared enough to show up week in and week out.

Current entrenched APW stars and other APW newcomers will tell you that winning this match means they deserve to be looked at as World Title contenders, and, if they already are, should get to jump the line.

Not me. I'm not here to prove the worth of another home. I'm not here to prove that my "used-to-be" trumps your "is". I'm not here to earn a World Title shot.

I'm here to save the sport of wrestling, to be the Ragnarök of this sad state of conspired dilution and to create a new world where the millions of fans watching APW can actually witness the untapped potential of two or more combatants giving every single thing they have just to earn the privilege of your respect and admiration or hatred. THAT'S what I win when I am the last man standing. THAT'S what I conquer if I survive.

This promo is my Book of Revelations, for this match is the Rapture for my 85 other opponents. Those willing to join me will be the godfathers of a golden age of wrestling, but for everyone else too entrenched in mediocrity to accept change, too afraid of accepting that "the best" is an ever-shifting title, too consumed by self-absorption to be willing to serve the true owners of power...the fans...

THIS...IS...THE END...

...0F THE W0RLD!!!

With the same timing as its previous interruptions, the ending sequence of Aenima overtakes the volume of the room as Our Hero exits. When the music resolves, the green screen morphs into words:

Survive and Conquer
20120129
#end0fthew0rld

[danquinn]

HANDLER NOTE: To help those reading understand what the characters are saying the apostrophe before a word means the exclusion of the letter “H” in their pronunciation. The apostrophe in the middle of the word replaces the unpronounced “T” or “H” in the cockney accent.The word "them" is also sometimes shortened to "'em". Please do not count this note in the RP word count, as it is not a part of the RP.

--Belmarsh Prison, Greenwhich, England—

4 days until Survive & Conquer

Two prison guards are talking about the release of one of Belmarsh’s most notorious inmates ever to serve time at her majesty’s pleasure.

Guard 1: Did you ‘ear?

Guard 2: I ‘eard. E’s out today, in’t he?

Guard 1: Yeah, couldn’t be good be’aviour, must be sick ’n’ tired of ‘im.

Guard 2: I say good riddance to bad rubbish! E’s got a screw loose that one, I’m tellin’ ya! E’s a psycho, a nutter, a complete and utter-

A voice comes from behind the two men

…Lunatic? Mental case? Deranged, twisted, freak?

Standing in the courtyard, just in front of the door to the prison is a middle-aged man, with a sick smile that was missing his front two teeth. He isn’t big, and could be mistaken for weedy if it weren’t for the veins popping out of his arms, his most defining features are the scar that stretches from the corner of his forehead to the bridge of his nose and the greasy mop of hair on his head. This is Blake the Rake; he got the nickname because of why he was in prison. You see Blake liked to hurt people; he also was offended very easily and an extremely sensitive man. When people insulted him or tried to demean him, it made him sad, it made him angry, and when Blake was angry he used to attack them with whatever he could find, unfortunately for the poor soul that said Blake’s shed could “do with a clean up” now looks like an albino zebra. As for Blake, well the last six years have given him a lot of time to think, prison made him less sensitive to taunts, but only increased the pleasure he got from hurting people.

Blake: Would you Adam and Eve it? It’s my two best buddies from inside the nick. What can I say? It’s been emotional boys; we’ve been through a lot together. It seems they are le’’ing me go in order to “ ’elp me, ‘elp myself. Get my life back on track and once again become a contributing member of society”.

Guard 1: So what’s the plan then? I can’t exactly see you working at ASDA. Green never was your colour; I’ve always thought that orange jumpsuit suited you best.

Blake looks at the guard for a second, walks up to him slowly and moves in so close his nose is a millimetre away from the guard's.

Blake:And I’ve always thought that uniform of yours would look a lot better with a bit of crimson on the collar…. You always did have some bo’’le, and believe me sweet’eart if I were planning on staying in London, I’d ‘ave changed the colour years ago.

He steps away from the guard, turns around and starts to walk away, the Guard laughs loudly

Guard 1: And where is a psychopath like you gonna go? Where in the world is going to take in someone like you? They would ‘ave to be stupid, they would ‘ave to be negligent to their own welfare, they would ‘ave to be-

* * *

- Welcome to America, Mr?

The woman behind the Newark Airport desk enquired as she took Blake’s passport.

Blake: It’s Quinn, Blake Quinn.

Woman: Well we hope you enjoy your stay, sir. Everything seems to be in order.

Blake takes his passport and turns away

One-second sir. Would you mind answering a survey question for us? We’d just like to know why you chose America for your destination today?

Blake stops in his tracks, and turns back around to the woman

Blake: It just ‘ad to be America, didn’t it?

* * *

--Dan Quinn’s New York City Home, United States—

1 Day Until Survive & Conquer

Dan Quinn has just finished his workout in the gym, training hard for Survive & Conquer; he takes a Stella Artois from the fridge and cracks it open. His phone starts ringing, as he picks it up from the kitchen counter. He stares at the unknown number that appears, and stares at it for a few seconds, and answers it cautiously.

Dan Quinn: ‘Ello?

Blake Quinn: Daddy’s ‘ome, son!

Dan stares at the floor, and lets out a deep sigh

Dan Quinn: For fucks Sake!

* * *

The scene switches to Dan Quinn driving a car through New York City at night, with Blake Quinn in the passenger seat, staring out the window. His greasy hair not even flicking in the winter wind.

Blake Quinn: Why…out of everywhere in the world would you choose America?

Dan Quinn: In London I ‘ad no money, a criminal record, and no friends. In America I ‘ave lots of money, a job where I get to ‘urt people for that money and…well I never had an interest in friendship anyway.

Pause

‘ow did you find me?

Blake Quinn: We live in an age where the In’ernet is king, Danny boy. I asked one of your old mates, said you were in America. I type in your name in Google, and a bloody wrestlin’ site pops up. I click on it and I see your picture, along with a couple YouTube videos an’all. So I figure I’d give my only son a visit.

Dan Quinn: Tssh, Only son my arse, you slung one up 'alf of London, there’s probably a foo’ball team of mini you’s runnin’ around. Admit it, you’re ‘ere because I’m rich, because you sure as ‘ell didn’t care when I wasn’t.

Blake Quinn: I know I wasn’t the best Dad in the world but prison ‘as changed me! I’m a be’’er man!

Dan Quinn: You raked a man across the face because ‘e told you to tidy your shed!

Blake Quinn: And what makes you any be’’er? I’ve seen you smash someone’s ‘ead against a brick wall!

Dan Quinn: Yeah, but at least I ‘ave the decency to be proud of it!

There is a pause as they look at each other and laugh

Blake Quinn: I still don’t understand though, why wrestlin’? Why not Boxing?

Dan Quinn: You ‘ave to wear gloves

Blake Quinn: MMA?

Dan Quinn: Too many rules, what does it ma’’er to you anyway?

Blake Quinn: Jus’ showin’ an interest ent I? So what’s this Fight and Conquer thing that’s ‘appenin’, saw you was involved

Dan Quinn: It’s SURVIVE and Conquer, and ‘ave you ever been in a prison riot?

Blake Quinn: Course I bloody well ‘ave

Dan Quinn: Like that.

Blake Quinn: Bollocks! In a wrestlin’ match?

Dan Quinn: It will be if I ‘ave anything to say about it. If I get to the final four we fight inside a steel cell, then if I get to the last two without bein’ pinned then it’s the first man who climbs the ladder on top of the cell and get’s the briefcase that wins.

Pause

Blake Quinn: ahahahahahaha! What nutcase thought that up? Throw me in that cell; I reckon I’d fancy my chances against ‘eadcases like that!

Dan ignores the disrespectful comment

Dan Quinn: Look, Dad. That’s the thing, I’ve gotta be in Florida tomorrow for the match. ‘Ave you got anywhere to stay?

Blake Quinn: Ah, well you see, I was kind of ‘opin’ I could stay with you for a bit. That’s not a problem is it?

Dan thinks for a moment, knowing he couldn’t let him stay in his home by himself, he would be robbed blind before he even stepped foot in the ring. But he was still his Dad, and as much as Dan hated himself for it, he was one of the few people he cared about.

Dan Quinn: I’m stayin’ in an ‘otel after the Pay-Per-View, getting there a few hours before; I’ll book you a room.

Blake Quinn: Can’t I just stay ‘ere?

Dan Quinn: I said I’d book you a room.

The rest of the journey was silent as father and son drove off home, preparing for their journey the next day. Dan, although he wouldn’t admit it, was thinking only of his strategy to win Survive & Conquer.

* * *

--Four Seasons Hotel, Miami, Florida—

Eight Hours Until Survive & Conquer

Dan & Blake are standing on the balcony of the Four Seasons, smoking and talking about Survive & Conquer

Blake Quinn: Do you think you can win, then?

Dan Quinn: Of course I can win, but I don’t care about that

Blake Quinn: Isn’t that the ‘ole point?

Dan Quinn: I’m goin’ in there to prove a point, all these pre’’y boys, all these trash talkers, all these wankers that think they’re the dog’s bollocks just because they can throw another greased up nobody around the ring ‘ave probably never been in a proper fight all their lives. They’ve probably never got jumped from be’ind, ‘ad their ‘eads smashed into a wall or been properly, and incompre’ensively beaten to a pulp…Neither ‘ave they experienced the beau’iful feeling of your ‘ands soaked in another man’s blood.

Dan is starting to get angry, winding himself up

There’s no grit anymore, no pain, no REAL suffering. That’s what people want to see, that’s what people really want. Not some college boy sucking up to the fans telling ‘em it’s all for them, it’s not, it never was. It’s always about the wrestler, ‘ow far they can get in this business, ‘ow much money they can squeeze out of their pathe’ically corny merchandise. They care as much about those ignorant fans as I do, and I ‘ave to be ‘onest, I couldn’t care less if they were there or not, all it means to me is that there’s an audience when I smash someone’s face in. At least I’m ‘onest, at least I admit I don’t care about ‘em, everyone is selfish, everyone is violent, I just seem to be the only one embracin’ it. When I go into Survive & Conquer, I’m not doin’ it for the cash, I’m not doin’ it for the recognition, I’m not doin’ it for the fame, or for the en’ertainment of the fans.

Dan stares at his father

I’m goin’ into Survive & Conquer to do what I was made to do, do what I was born to do, and do what you, Dad could never do. I’m going into that ring to tear apart eighty-five men, I can’t get disqualified, I can’t get pinned, all there is to do in there is cause pain, make ‘em suffer, and when they’ve suffered enough, I’m gonna make ‘em suffer some more, and when I finally feel their carcasses are picked clean, I’m going to send their bodies… their dreams… and their ‘opes over the top rope.

Looking back over the balcony, clenching his fists

I’ll destroy Dynamo, ruin Rebel, gout Gates, annihilate Noble, knockout Knuckles, smash Saint, decimate Dillinger, and everyone from the other feds, the only welcome they’ll be getting’ from me is broken bones, snapped ligaments, torn tendons and the only thing they’ll experience at the ‘ands of me is BLOOD, SWEAT and FEAR!

There is a pause as Blake looks at Dan, at first slightly fearful, but then he smiles and starts laughing, then laughs some more and is eventually in hysterics.

Blake Quinn: You sound just like one of ‘em!! Haha! Listen’ to you, thinkin’ you’re some kind of ‘ard man! You’re gonna go in there, and not last five minutes! You mark my words Danny boy! Haha! Who do you think you are? “Blood, sweat & fear!” Give me a break! If you didn’t care Danny boy, you wouldn’t ‘ave flown all the way to bloody Florida to beat a few people up, if it wasn’t about the money, you wouldn’t ‘ave signed this contract in the first place. You would’ve stayed in London and kicked people’s ‘eads in there! You’re a bloody ‘ypocite, you know that? You couldn’t ‘ack it in London, so you come to cosy, sunny Florida and act the big man ‘ere instead! You’re nothin’ Daniel, nothin’! They might be afraid of you over ‘ere, but we ate pussies like you for brekkie in Belmarsh! You wouldn’t ‘ave lasted five seconds in there, and you won’t last five minutes in this match tonight! Why don’t you just give up? You always were a complete waste of space, and I always knew you were never gonna take after me. If you’re so ‘ard son, then prove it. Prove you’re as much of a nutter as your old man! Go on, I dare ya!

Blake stops talking as Dan glares at his father, fists clench. Suddenly he smiles his sick smile, relaxes his hands and steps towards his father.

Dan Quinn: I find it ‘ard to believe you ate pussies in prison, Dad. I think you were too busy getting done up the-

Before Dan can finish his sentence, Blake punches him hard across the face. Dan, stunned for a second, turns back around to face his father. At this point Dan loses it and begins throwing right and left hands at his father on the balcony; he grabs hold off his father and pushes his upper body so it’s leaning over the balcony.

Blake Quinn: Go on? What are you wai’in’ for? Do me in!

Dan waits for a second, but can’t do it. In a rage he launches his father through the glass doors of the balcony back into the hotel room, he goes in after him and starts laying rights and lefts into his father’s face. Blake in desperation manages to knock a stand with a vase mounted on top, which lands directly on Dan’s head, knocking him off of Blake. Blake, his faced now bloodied, struggles to his feet and proceeds to kick Dan in the stomach, with a kick after every word.

I

Kick

Told

Kick

You

Kick

To

Kick

Do

Kick

Me

Kick

In!

He kicks Dan one last time, with Dan left clutching his stomach

You call this a beatin’? This is nothin’; this is a cuddle in prison! Although you never did get any cuddles, did ya? Your Mum always did prefer stickin’ needles in ‘er arms than givin’ you any love!

Upon hearing this Dan jumps up and pushes his father into the flat screen TV mounted on the wall, shattering the screen. Dan precedes to head butt his father’s nose repeatedly, holding him up against the wall before throwing him back onto the floor. Blake is now brutally beaten, his nose is crooked and his face covered in blood.

Dan Quinn: You asked for this old man! You got what you wanted, now ‘ow does it feel, eh? Does it feel good?

Blake spits some blood on the floor and then coughs.

Blake Quinn: Still in better shape than your mother.

Before Dan can go for his father again the door breaks down and several MPD officers burst through and tackle Dan to the floor, the other officers pick up Blake and put him in cuffs.

MPD Officer: You two are under arrest for disturbing the peace, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?

Dan Quinn: Yes

Blake Quinn: Do I look like I can afford a bloody attorney?

The MPD lead Blake & Dan out of the room and the scene cuts out. Dan Quinn has been arrested only 8 hours before Survive & Conquer.

--Miami-Dade County Jail, Florida—

1 hour before Survive & Conquer

Both Dan and his Father are in separate cells in the jail, Blake is sitting against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him smiling, being so used to his surroundings. Dan is frustrated, holding onto the bars looking out and pacing around.

Blake Quinn: I don’t think we’ve ever spent so much time with each other, Danny boy. I think we’ve made some progress in our relationship.

Dan doesn’t respond and carries on pacing around the cell and panting

Oh come on son, don’t be like that. It’s only wrestlin’ after all, you like beatin’ people up don’t ya? Well you just did that didn’t ya?

Dan continues to not respond, as Blake doesn’t know when to shut up

I mean, it’s not like you were gonna be big anyway. You’re not a wrestler Danny boy, you’re a fighter, and judging by today, not much of one. You couldn’t even finish me off…you must take after your mother, she had trouble finishing me off as well!

Dan Quinn: SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU WITHERED OLD C***! This was my chance! This was my moment! My chance to show everyone I could compete with the best! This was my biggest oppertuni’y to prove I could fight with some of the best talent in the world!

This isn’t just wrestlin’ to me! You know what I used to do when you were getting’ yourself nicked and Mum was fillin’ ‘er veins with that shit? I was sittin’ in my room, watchin’ people like The Rock, people like Austin and The Undertaker, my idols, my ‘eros, the father figures that YOU should ‘ave been to me! I would just sit there and ‘ope, and pray that ONE DAY I might be in that ring, fans cheering my name with a championship around my waist.

I never thought it would ‘appen, so I got angry, when kids picked on me at school I just stomped the shite out of ‘em! I could never use words to express myself, I never ‘ad anyone to tell me it was gonna be okay, I never ‘ad anyone there to be proud of me! So I went it alone, I decided to make a name for myself one way or another, and then one day my dream ‘ad come true, I got a call from APW tellin’ me they wanted me on the roster. The biggest wrestlin’ company in the world wanted ME!

By that point it was too late though, I’d lost my faith in everythin’, I lost my faith in family, in friends, in the fans and I can’t see myself ever getting’ that back! Thanks to you I’m nothin’ more than a monster heel! Thanks to you I’m going to no show the biggest event of my life so far, and after that I’ll be forgotten, just like you forgot about me, just like Mum forgot about me, and just like everyone else will, I guess I’m just another Quinn that’s never meant to make it work for ‘imself. Looks like I take after you, after all.

Dan sits down with his back against the wall as the camera shows both Quinns in the same shot, sitting in the same position. Dan has his head in his hands and Blake is silent after Dan’s rant. A MPD officer enters the room and unlocks Dan’s cell.

MPD Officer: Daniel Quinn, you’re free to go. Someone covered your bail.

Dan Quinn: What? Who?

James Stanley walks into the room with a huge smile on his face. Dan, forgetting himself walks over to James and hugs him tightly.

James Stanley: When was the last time you hugged someone? I think you popped a lung

Dan Quinn: Ah, erm, it’s been a long time! Sorry mate. ‘Ow did you know I was ‘ere?

James Stanley: As soon as I found out your Dad was in the country I thought I’d better take a trip out here to make sure nothing stopped you going to Survive & Conquer, and when I found out you weren’t at the arena I came straight here. I knew he’d wind you up!

Dan Quinn: Yeah, well I guess ‘im and me aren’t that different. Survive & Conquer is in less than an hour, I’m meant to be there by now!

James Stanley: I’ll run you over there now mate; I’ll speak to the staff and tell them it was out of your control. You are NOT missing this match! Come on, let’s go!

As they leave Blake starts laughing and they stop in their tracks.

Blake Quinn: You think it’s gonna make any difference? Look at me, son. Look at your Mother. It’s not in your blood to succeed, it’s not in your mind, you ‘aven’t got it in you! Mark my words you’ll end up just like me, you’ll knock up some slapper, and end up with a pussy for a son!

Dan walks over to the cell slowly, with his sick smile, looking like he is ready to strike.

Dan Quinn: I am not a pussy…and I am NOT your son!
…
Officer, how much would I ‘ave to give you to knock out my Dad without consequences?

Blake starts laughing

MPD Officer: Call it 100?

Dan Quinn: Done

Blake Quinn: What?

Dan drives his fist into Blake’s nose, knocking him back onto the stone floor. James gives the money to the officer as they hurry out of the building, as Blake lies unconscious in the jail cell.

* * *

--American Airlines Arena, Miami, Florida—

10 Minutes until Survive & Conquer

James & Dan arrive at the arena, and are backstage in the locker room, awaiting the Eighty-Six man battle. James is giving Dan some words of encouragement.

James Stanley: Now listen to me…You are APW’s most dangerous competitor, you’re not the best wrestler, that’ll improve with time, you’re not the biggest guy in that ring, but you’re by no means the smallest. You are fierce, violent, and determined! You have everything you need to be the best! You are nothing like your father; you came from nothing and ended up here, deep down, although you might not admit it, you believed in yourself, you knew what you wanted and you got there, by yourself. All you have to do now is prove to everyone how damn good you really are, this is your chance, this is your moment, this is YOUR TIME to be the biggest, the baddest and the BEST! Now who is going to be the last man standing? Who is going to be the ONE survivor?

Dan Quinn: I am

James Stanley: LOUDER!

Dan Quinn: I AM!

James Stanley: Good! Now go out into that ring and prove to everyone just why you are The Practitioner of Pain, THE most dangerous man in wrestling, and just why they should all be ready to experience…

Dan Quinn:
…
BLOOD
…
SWEAT
…
AND FEAR!

As Dan hears the roar of the crowd he makes his way to the Survive & Conquer match, hell bent on leaving the winner.

[showtime]

The setting is the ring for Survive & Conquer. A typical wrestling ring. Wrapped around the ring a steel cell. Atop the cell a metal ladder balances precariously. And seated at the tippy-top of this ladder is Jim Black. Consider Jim Black a moment. A well-muscled man, a few more scars than when he debuted in the business some 13 years prior, but still in fighting prime. In his hand is a broom handle wrapped in black electrician's tape. That's sort of a trademark of his. Well regardless what he looks like or what he carries or what colour his pants are, he is there.

Jim Black: Top of the ladder. Winner takes all. It's kind of symbolic that I start here. From the day I began wrestling in a long-dead company called the FWA, I--Jim Black, Magnificent Bastard--have been at the top. Winning always came easy for me, and there was nothing I loved more than pissing off the "established" stars by brushing them aside, disregarding their achievements and taking in mere hours what sometimes they took years to achieve.

Jim Black considers the stick in his hand, shrugs and tosses it away.

Jim Black: Put who gives a toss about what I, Jim Black, did a million years ago? Hell, most of the guys and gals I'll be tussling with in a few days time weren't even old enough to watch wrestling back then. "Who's this used-up, but undeniably handsome, old fart bleating about how it used to be in the dumb-old past?" they might ask. And if I fall into that trap, then I will just become the thing I hate.

Jim Black begins descending the ladder. he is in no hurry and talks on the way down.

Jim Black: No, I am not going to become "that guy." Complaining about who much better things "back when." Frankly, things have always had an equal measure of sh*t and sunshine. Back when I started, every second schlub was asking me if I could smell his eyebrow or telling me--in third person--how he'd kick my ass. A little while later everyone was rapping like it was a mid-80s sitcom. Nostalgia is just a trap that has-beens fall into to justify their failures. I will not try to make you care about what I did back in a place that doesn't even exist anymore. Not to say I am not a has-been. But a wise man once said "Has been once was. Has been can be again."

Yep, he just quoted William Shatner. Deal with it.

Jim Black: Don't get me wrong. I respect the FWA that was, it was what made me what I am. But things change. When I debuted, I was billed as "A no-nonsense hardcore brawler." That sure didn't last. I am pretty much all nonsense, and only a suicidal idiot or a painkiller-junkie calls himself "hardcore" these days. Yes, I took a few bumps, I had my ever-so-trendy eyebrow piercing torn out--thankfully, god what was I thinking?--so I can say I paid my dues. But it makes more sense to NOT get beat up, and let the guy on the other side of the ring get hurt instead.

Jim Black gets to the bottom of the ladder, and he begins to walk to the edge of the cage.

Jim Black: So hurting the other people in this match is a much better option. Only an idiot would let 85 other people beat him--or her!--up. And you can call Jim Black a bunch of things: A hypocrite, a liar, a raconteur, an idiot... but no one will ever say Jim Black is a Libertarian! Speaking of 85 other idiots, while none of you have heard of me, let me counter and say that I have heard of none of you either. Now I am not saying I am related to Seth or Alex Black, but I did get really stupid drunk pretty often in my adventurous youth and I have nailed a lot of ugly ring rats in the course of my career, so it is not out of the question. But! Do not think for a moment I will lay off on yourselves just because I am you father.

Reaching the edge of the cage, Jim Black begins to climb down.

Jim Black: I've been in this little business 13 years, I have crossed a lot of paths and I have pissed in a lot of cornflakes, but not ever had a chance to do this to so many people at the same time. And I tell you, I am going to enjoy myself. I know I may estrange myself from my two illegitimate sons Seth and Alex by taking away their only chance to finally surpass their dear old Dad. But in this industry, it is dog-eat-dog, cow-moon-cow, cat-screw-rabbit. Every person for themselves. And if you two ungrateful bastards think I'm gonna give you a free ride, then I just didn't raise you right.

Jim Black reaches the ground. he begins to walk up the entranceway.

Jim Black: So that is it. Come January 29th, I will walk down this very aisle, "survive" the onslaught until on four of us remain, disown my ungrateful kids Seth and Alex, bust out of that cage, climb yonder ladder, and once again prove that I can just waltz in and beat everybody else. I've cast off the past, and am stepping into my future. And as always, I'll make history every step of the way. Ta ta.

Jim Black walks behind the entranceway curtain, and we fade to black.

[crowbar]

The Scene Opens to Crowbar standing in front of a WARPED Wrestling banner, Digitalism - Pogo plays quietly in the background. He holds a smoke in one hand, a lighter in the other. He puts the smoke in his mouth and lights it before looking up at the camera in front of him.

"APW! I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Crowbar and I'm here to represent the fine federation who's banner you can see behind me" Crowbar points backwards with his thumb. "Now, I know many of you have absolutely no idea who I am so let me give you some insight."

Crowbar draws back on the cigarette and blows out the smoke.

"I'm part of WARPED Wrestling, I'm a former WARPED World Champion and Evolution Champion, I'm the only man to hold both belts simultaneously, and I've been known to have a slight temper." He flicks the cigarette on the ground and continues. "I'm here quite simply to represent WARPED in the Survive and Conquer match, which, I believe I shall come out the victor, or at least hold out until the end so I can smack my fellow WARPED competitor Leon Stone around a bit." Crowbar laughs and looks at the list of competitors, before looking back up. His manager, Jessika, walks up and whispers something in his ear and he nods. "So, number 3 is me, lucky number 3...85 other opponents....all for varying federations around the place and one match to prove dominance. Interesting concept, I have to say. When I heard about the match I just had to throw my name in the hat, as I believe that I can show without a shadow of a doubt that I am one of the best competitors around today, I plan to outshine everyone...now, whether that happens is another question, but we'll see!"

Crowbar lights another smoke.

"Now look, I've only ever fought against one other man in this match, so I'm not going in assuming anything. I'm sure you're all great...I'm also sure you're all pains in my ass and will feel the wrath of the KFO, and yes, its a jumping cutter, just like an RKO, a move with a fancy name. Difference? I can hit it at random, more so than an RKO. I may not be a 'Veteran' of the business, but I've held my titles, holding both the World and Evolution titles isn't exactly an easy feat, either. See, I'm an FnX expert, which is quite a bit more extreme than a typical hardcore match, so this? This will be a walk in the damned park." Crowbar looks past the camera and shoots a nod "Sup Starr?!" and then looks back. "To be honest, I've never been in a match with so many people, I really don't even know what the fuck a Survive and Conquer match is, except that a cage is involved, which is excellent, a weapon surrounding the ring is never a bad thing."

Crowbar begins to walk away from the WARPED banner and it shows he's backstage at WARPED #38 prior to accompanying Alexander Starrzoe to the ring.

"So, after being crushed under the old stage, I decided to take a break and record this, because, well, my schedule is probably going to be very busy after this. However, cage, no cage, weapons, no weapons, 85 other people are going to fall to the KFO and WARPED Wrestling will stand on top as the victor, and I'll show the world that ....most of the roster, not everyone...wait, Leon Stone, why the fuck are you representing us? Go represent someone else you hack. I'll rephrase what I was saying...I'll prove the Main Eventers in WARPED are more extreme than you'd ever imagine. PKA, Alexander Starrzoe, Myself and everyone else that puts their ass on the line every show are here, and the landscape will be changing. I may be the only real wrestler from WARPED competing in this match, but believe me, next time? I'm bringing friends. But for now, all 85 of you should just give up now, you're gone. Dead. I'd wish you all the best of luck, but fuck you're going to need more than that."

Crowbar turns as Hollywood Undead - Been To Hell hits the PA. He begins to walk off towards the curtain before turning around "guess that's my queue. Welcome to the world where dreams become nightmares."

The camera fades to black.

[Jacob Davies]

Not much is known about Jacob Davies, outside of the fact that he’s openly talked about his childhood – a difficult time which involved him growing up early and learning responsibility, just to look after his younger siblings. He also trained and competed for a short time in Mixed Martial Arts, but it didn’t provide the financial means that he required, and so pursued a career in professional wrestling and was trained by his cousin – a wrestling ‘thoroughbred’ of sorts. Following this, he briefly teamed with his cousin, but it quickly fell apart and Jacob was left to find his own way. Cue years of being in and out of various promotions and never truly settling, until one day – over two months ago – he was contacted about the chance to work in the Universal Wrestling League.

It was a bold move on the part of the UWL, Jacob had proven himself to be inconsistent and restless, but so far the offer has paid off. Jacob has been in UWL for two months now and has settled in well with the company, already winning the newly revived Television Championship. After hearing about a large, interpromotional event taking place in Action Packed Wrestling, he decided to put his name down to represent the UWL.

The man known as the Prodigy was on his way to Miami on the 29th of January to take part in, quite possibly, the biggest match of his career so far.

---

Scene opens to reveal a large, dark warehouse, lit only by the rays daylight coming through small windows around the top of building, obscured by years of grime that points out the obvious – this building is neglected. Dust floats aimlessly around the building, visible only in the rays of light. The focus eventually falls from the upper portion of the building, down to the worn out wrestling ring in the middle of three separated, moveable bleachers with a couple of rows of chairs in front of them and a small aisle that cuts through of several rows of seats, all fenced off from the ring and aisle by rusting security rails. The other end of the aisle stands the steel skeletal structure of a far more elaborate entrance stage, long since dismantled and left to stand.

The camera, standing in the middle of the aisle, makes its way towards the ring, but for no apparent reason it turns left at the bottom of the ramp and follows the path along ringside. It stops and looks out into the middle of the bleachers, just to the right sits a dark, previously unseen figure, sitting a few rows up and looking up at the roof. The camera approaches, fitting through a handily positioned gap in the security railings and chairs that lead straight to the person. Once closer, the camera stops a few feet short of the bottom of the stand, then looks up to focus on the subject.

A man, a young man at that, a wearing an unzipped, dark grey – or so it appears to be in this light – hooded jacket, a light grey t-shirt with an indistinguishable design on the cover, tatty and worn dark blue jeans, with a pair of equally dishevelled black and white converse. At his side, shining in the faint light, is a championship belt.

“I’ve always liked this place.”

He speaks with a calm tone, no evidence of emotion but not completely robotic. His focus turns from the roof to the camera, revealing himself – to those that are regular UWL viewers – as Jacob Davies, which makes the title at his side the UWL Television Championship.

“This is where I earned my first pay cheque wrestling. To just about everybody else in attendance, it was just another night – another payday. To me, it was the beginning of something. It’s taken me six years to start piecing myself together to compete properly – to finally start living up to my early potential. That’s a long time for anybody to wait for anything.

Trust me when I say that it was torture.

I’ve had a few ups and a lot of downs. The ups have been few and far in between and I’m the first to admit that it was my fault. I didn’t apply myself to my profession as much as I should have. I allowed too many distractions... too much excess that dragged me down. I’ve had personal problems, battled demons, and I’ve come out stronger.

But I’m not here for the fight the good fight speech. I don’t do that. People need to learn for themselves that what they’re doing is wrong and sort out their own problems. Nobody can help you but yourself as far as I’m concerned.

Ever since then, I’ve improved – both as a person, but most importantly as an in-ring competitor. I’ve learned focus and I’m finding my motivations. I’m still a young guy finding his abilities at the end of the day.

I’m still the Prodigy, though.

It makes me one of the finest talents you’ll find out there. This business is in my blood, it comes naturally to me, and I intend to show that to you people. No doubt many of you have been living your lives under rocks because it appears that I’m an unrecognised talent here in ‘Action Packed Wrestling’. That’s fine; they say that ignorance is bliss. In this case, however, ignorance is a boot to the jaw.

I could go on a tangent about how I can use your ignorance to my advantage, but let’s face it, that’s boring and you already know that I’ll be doing that. Nobody here knows the first thing about me except that I’m ‘some kid from Detroit’, weigh two-hundred and twenty-something pounds, representing Universal Wrestling League and has been in and out of promotions for years.

Congratulations on reading my Wikipedia page if you have indeed discovered these facts, you have now done what I like to call the “Javex Valerius level of scouting”. Googling a guy’s name doesn’t nearly count as research, but with an education system like ours where a student simply Google’s a subject, plagiarises a few paragraphs and hands it in for a passing grade, I’m not surprised that this is what we consider research.

I’m not particularly surprised either if that’s what some people even managed to do because – let’s face it – there are eighty-six of us in the match. We can’t look up every little fact about everybody, it’s too time consuming and we’re not likely to meet every single person in the match, are we?

But what you do is highlight the key threats in a match like this, now from my recollection, we have recognisable names such as C.J Gates, Kurt Noble, Level One... as a UWL wrestler, I’m also keeping an eye on Robb Daniels and Billy Dork, I expect them to surprise a few people in this one, meaning we should all hold our own pretty well. Obviously, I don’t think they’ll top my performance though.

You see, I’m a pretty confident guy. I’m not overconfident, but I’m confident. I fully trust my flourishing abilities and I’m reaping the benefits of that. Most guys – I’d say about... eighty to eighty-five percent of the ones in this match – don’t fully trust their abilities, or overestimate them, making these people extremely dangerous, if only to themselves more than others. The moment that you climb the top rope, trying to show off your ‘skills’ and end up eating canvas? That’s the moment where I’ll capitalise and throw you out of the ring. Sure, I’ll take risks of my own – calculated risks. I’m not about to throw away a match that has the potential to improve my standing in professional wrestling.

I’m a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain. If I lose and put in a bad showing, then I can just take my title and slink back home to the UWL and continue to build my legacy there, where I’m already making some headway in climbing up the ranks. Whereas if I put in a good performance and still lose, then I’ve made people sit up and take notice. The people of APW and the rest of the world will look to me and start saying ‘this kid’s right, he IS a prodigy!’

At which point, I’ll slap the taste out of their mouth and inform them that I am THE Prodigy. Not A prodigy. THE Prodigy.

The complete flipside of this would be if I won the match. It wouldn’t matter if I put in a good or bad showing because I’d have won. I’d have won a match that eighty-five other men couldn’t do. It would catapult me into stardom and make me one of the premier talents in all of wrestling.

A ‘kid’ with the lowest ranked championship in the UWL.

It has a nice, fairytale sort of ring to it, doesn’t it? The guy with no real accomplishments to his name, only recently signed up to UWL and already a champion, suddenly overcomes the odds and adversity to win a huge event, beating some of the most accomplished individuals in this business as he does it.

This ‘dream’ would be out of the reach of most people. Let’s face it; everybody in this match thinks that they can win, what’s the point in entering otherwise, right? Obviously, only one person can win however, and most of the faceless, generic nobodies will just make brief cameos as the true stars of the show make strong showings and stake their claims for victory.

But this is my year.

It’s the Era of the Prodigy.

My year started by winning the UWL Television title and will continue in this manner of success. I don’t see why I can’t walk out of this as the winner, I have all the tools necessary and I fully expect to claim a few scalps as I progress in the match. Maybe one or two will be very recognisable? I think so. I quite fancy toppling a few giants in this one, because it’ll show then world that I’m not some ‘kid’ here looking for an easy payday.

I’m here to make a name for myself.”

He stops talking and picks up the title at his side, then stands and makes his way down the bleacher, until he’s at face level with the camera. As he walks forward, he continues to speak.

“Like I said earlier... this is where it all began for me. The promotion has long since left this warehouse – it’s beyond repair. I called in a few favours to get it all set up as it used to be. Most of it has been in storage for years now, so it’s far from a useable state.”

Stopping at ringside, he leans on the apron and inspects every detail of the ring, carefully looking from the corners to the mat, then at the ropes in front of him, nodding his head slightly.

“Just like it used to be.”

He turns around and leans back against the apron, then points past the camera – which it follows the direction of – revealing the corner of the security railings closest to the aisle. There’s nothing special that strikes anybody watching, it’s just a regular corner of the railings, just a little more rusty than the rest.

“That’s where I got my first taste of crowd interaction – literally. A fan threw a cup of beer right in my face. It caught me off guard at the time and, as a young kid just coming through, it actually hurt my feelings a bit.”

He lets out a small laugh as he looks down at the ground and shakes his head.

“How times have changed, huh?”

After looking around at the chairs and bleachers, he pushes himself from the ring and starts walking around it, away from the aisle. He continues to look at the entire thing closely, taking in the memories and nostalgia.

“Here...” he stops and points at a part of the mats at ringside. Despite their padding, they offer relatively little protection to anybody falling on them. “This is the first place I took a bump out of the ring during a match. It didn’t go well. I fracture my ribs and spent a few months sitting on the sidelines. I hated every minute of it.”

He continues walking, patting the steel steps as he passes them. Again he stops, this time just off centre of the ring and stares at the ropes.

“The turnbuckle snapped once, just as I was about to bounce into the ropes, so I went over the second rope and landed on the floor. I wasn’t hurt, but it was a scary experience for a young wrestler. I didn’t trust the ropes for a long time after it, but I eventually learned it was a one-off.”

He turns to face the camera, eyebrows raised slightly and a joking smile across his face.

“Nobody ever said that wrestling was an easy thing to pick up when you’re first starting. You need to be ready to spill some blood, fracture or even break a few bones, and to be in agony for most of your career. I’ve never complain about the pain I’ve endured as a rookie, I just accepted it as part of the business.”

He shrugs with the last sentence and turns back around, then continues on, eventually heading, slowly, up the aisle. He runs his hand over the railing on his left, staring down at it as it glides over the rusting metal. Eventually he reaches the top of the aisle and stops just in front of the stage, then turns to face the camera.

“More people need to start accepting what’s part of the business. Whether it’s the fact that they’re simply not good enough to be the best, or that they’ll burn out before the age of twenty-five and need to look for a new career instead of carrying on as a shell of what their former, meagre, potential promised.

People need to start accepting that they’re not capable of winning Survive and Conquer. There’s very few who can claim to be real contenders to win it... and I won’t be considered amongst those elite few. I’m nothing special to these people; I’m a no-name with nothing to say. Well, as it turns out, I have a lot to say.

I’d like to say that I’m sick of being considered an underdog. Underdogs are people who get by on heart and luck, I don’t do that. I have pure talent, something that very, VERY few have. I’m only just showing glimpses of the potential that somebody titled the Prodigy will have, and I’m not about to just enter a huge competition and roll over. I’m here to show you all that I’m top calibre talent that belongs at the top of the card.

I should NOT be propping up the rest of the show, no matter who I’m facing or the title on the line, I’m the best damn competitor in the UWL and will prove that with nothing less than a performance of the highest order – exactly what I’ve been doing with every match of the past two months.

Action Packed Wrestling? You guys have swamped this match with your roster and that doesn’t surprise me – it’s your show, your match, why would you want to give people who don’t work for you a chance to win it? However, it won’t be your performances that you’ll be remembering. You’ll be too busy talking about the young kid who came from a small promotion down south, carrying their lowest ranked championship, and showing you up for the talentless hacks you are.

Sure, you’ve got a few good guys – they’re the ones with the real talent that I’ve been talking about. I mean, I can’t help but hear people talking about wrestlers like C.J Gates, and I would relish the chance to go toe to toe with this man, but these people are just very talented. They aren’t Jacob Davies. They aren’t the ‘kid’ that nobody fancies to do well.

I might have started out in a small warehouse on the outskirts of Detroit and fight in front of a few hundred to just over a thousand fans every week, but I’m well capable of stepping it up to perform in front of thousands of people. I’ve wrestled at this level before and I look forward to making my return to the larger stage. A stage where people can sit up and take notice.

And that’s what I need, a stage to show that I’m all that I say I am. I’m not some guy who’ll just run his mouth off and not back it up, I do everything I can to back up every single word that I say. I’m building a reputation of delivering what I promise, like the time I promised to get my revenge on Javex Valerius for handing me a disgusting loss in my debut match. I’m not talking about being a sore loser here either; the man made another sell his soul just so he could pick up a win. I paid him back for that a month later and halted his ‘meteoric rise to the top’.

I promised that after gaining the number one contendership to the Television title – which I got by beating Javy – I’d then go on to bring home the gold.

Guess what?”

He raises the UWL Television title to face level; it still shines dimly in the relatively little lighting of the warehouse.

“I delivered on that promise as well.”

The title is lowered back to his side.

“I’m not actually going to promise victory – I simply can’t. I want to, but with eighty-five other people passing through that ring at some point, anything can happen.

I know, I know... I can practically hear you all thinking ‘he’s conceding defeat’. Trust me when I say that I’m not, I’m just saying that I simply can’t promise to deliver on that promise, which is why I won’t make it. I like to think of it as honesty as my part, you can call it negativity if you like, but I’d like to see you promise a victory and then lose when something unusual happens.

If this was one on one or a even a smaller multi-man match, I’d feel more confident in telling you that I’d win. But this? This is an insane match to even try and comprehend. Eighty-six people in a single match is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before and that’s what attracted me. The chance to test myself in such a unique contest.

Nothing can be guaranteed in this one, but I will, ‘go out on a limb’ as it were, and promise you this; I’ll put in the performance of a lifetime. I’ll prove that I’m the best that UWL has to offer... I’ll show you all why I’m the Prodigy and that it isn’t just a fancy nickname that I picked for myself. It was handed to me because I showed the potential that only a Prodigy could.

I live up to that moniker every single time I step into the ring, and Survive and Conquer will be no different. I’m not going to give you the false speeches about how I guarantee victory, like lesser people have done already – it gets boring. We’d rather see a guy just go out there and give a damn good performance. Sure, I’ll be wrestling the night before and probably defending my title at UWL’s first event of the year – Access Denied – but rest assured, I’ll walk into Survive and Conquer as the Television Champion, and will walk out with a reputation that has been earned through a showing that shocks the world.

APW, you’ve been warned. I’m gunning for your biggest and best. I have EVERYTHING to gain in this one and your big names have it all to lose if they go out quickly. Me? Nothing you can possibly take away from me. I’m just a no-name from nowhere, remember?

I talk about twenty-twelve being my year for a reason... I’m on the fast track to being the next big thing. Don’t be surprised to see me in the running for a ‘wrestler of the year’ award come the end of the year, and then expect me to continue my rise to prominence, carrying the UWL on my back to bigger and better things, raising the standard and quality of competition on my way.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Era of the Prodigy will arrive at the APW, and there will be no doubts about why I promise to make 2012 my year.

No doubts about why I carry this title over my shoulder.

No doubts about why I’m so confident in my abilities.

No doubts... EVER again.

See you in two weeks time.”

He smirks, then turns his back on the camera and disappears behind the dusty, torn curtain in the middle of the stage. The camera pans a full one-eighty degrees to look out at the ring, chairs and stands.

Fade.

[2nd Generation Saints]

Cameras fade in on Cid Phoenix, who sits next to Dan Bochner and Rhonda Vixen on a couch, as Dan is intently staring at the list of wrestlers competing in the APW's Survive & Conquer Tournament.


RHONDA: 85 Competitors... Wow, just... Wow.

CID: I did one of these awhile back, you know?

RHONDA: How'd you do?

DAN: He got tossed out on his ass early on!

Cid and Dan share a brief chuckle

CID: But you know what, Dan? I've never been a part of anything as big as this..You have a strategy on how it is you're gonna approach this thing?

Dan scoffs at Cid.

DAN: I don't care what experts who've done this before say - there is no set way to prepare for one of these. You have to try and survive, or you get eliminated. It's like fighting for your life. If you took it more seriously back then, Cid - you have one of these to celebrate under your belt.,

CID: Oh, and you will?

DAN: Yeah. Because I'm looking at this as not just another battle, but a test for survival. In order to survive and win this contest, I'm going to have to awaken something primal yet keep my wits about me. Alot of hopefuls are in this tournament, and something like this could put my name on the map!

RHONDA: Why didn't you do it, Cid?

CID: I'm going to do it next year for sure. But Dan really wanted to do it, and we both feel that Dan needs to make his own bones. So this is the best way to start, by competing in something like Survive & Conquer and winning - Dan will be known by many - probably more so than I!

DAN: I kinda doubt that, Cid - How many people have you pissed off?

CID: Never mind all that.

RHONDA: Why don't we just go through the list and see who's a threat and who's not?

DAN: Sure!

CID: Alright!

Cid gets up and sits next to Rhonda, facing Dan, Rhonda takes the sheet of paper and the two begin looking over the list of competitors for the Survive and Conquer Tournament. Rhonda looks up first.

RHONDA: Sally Talford..

DAN: Sal-Tal? Oh, Great! Miss "I'm holier than though with my dual-meaning of half-sexual innuendos" is back for another round of the "I'm holier than thou" spectacle? I'd better be on my toes then because this bitch is just as dangerous as she can be annoying! And by the way, she's been around for like ever! How old is this bitch? 40??

Cid bursts out laughing, damned near to tears. Rhonda hits him upside the head and tells him to stop. He shakes his head and chuckles. Rhonda keeps her game face on and reads on..

RHONDA: Justice Legal.

DAN: Justice Legal? Are you kidding me? Wasn't he ever so briefly in SCW for like two weeks? I guess he couldn't "cut the mustard" there either. What a waste of space!

Rhonda reads on..

RHONDA: "The Promise" Anthony Bailey.

DAN: Anthony Bailey? The Promise? Promise of what?? The promise that he's gonna bore the fans with another retarded promo? He's just a damn college boy who took a left turn at Alberquerque. He's in the wrong business. I give that cocksucker about five minutes before his ass gets eliminated and he goes running crying to the back!

RHONDA: Dan Quinn?

DAN: Dan Quinn? Just fuckin' rich! Another limey prick low-life from a broken home who thinks that he's gonna make an impact based on his bad attitude and broken english. In plain English, this guy's "rubbish".

Cid Phoenix takes a gander at the letter.

CID: What about Johnny Knuckles?

DAN: Johnny Knuckles is an over-glorified idiot, mobster whose nearing 30, who failed at his attempts to become an MMA Fighter. That guy's just dead weight with cement shoes, he's just too stupid to realize it..

CID: Chris Hart?

DAN(scoffs): He's just some loser trying to hang on to Kurt Noble's coattails, instead of making his own bones.. Pathetic.

CID: Rory O'Connell?

DAN: What's the big deal? That guy thinks he's big shit because he beat up "Bones from Star Trek"? The man got kicked out of a friend's wrestling gym because he was such a total loser. He has a very weak left shoulder and elbow, which is always good to know.. I hope he breaks his arm out there!

Rhonda winces at the comment. Cid looks down to read off another name from the list and chuckles. Rhonda looks at Cid, who goes from chuckle to full-on laughter.

RHONDA: What is it?

Cid can't breathe from the laughter, but holds up the paper and points to a name, which Rhonda reads..

RHONDA: Spider...Bait?

Dan sits up eyebrows raised.

DAN: What?

RHONDA: The guys name is Spider-Bait.

DAN: More like "just plain bait", if you ask me. Who gets these guys? This guy sounds like he heard about us at the San Diego Comic-Con, and decided his failed attempts at being a superhero might work better in a wrestling ring! I'll "unmask" this fucker quick if he gets in my face!

CID: Bio says he's a gymnast.

DAN: HAHAHA Aside from the stupid name, he's a gymnast trying to be a wrestler. Most likely won't last 5 minutes before he comes to the harsh reality that he's bitten off more than he could chew!

CID: Kid Dynamo?

DAN: Most likely some "mark" who became a wrestler. From what I've seen of him, he's quite careless in the ring, and will probably have a short-lived career trying to execute some insane high-risk aerial stunt. Not a threat at all, but he might injure himself or someone else.

CID: Keaton Saint?

DAN: That guy is somewhat of a "poster boy" who made some kinda impact in last years S&C, by being like the 7th entrant and lasting through to the finals. Probably psyched and ego-driven and thinks that history might repeat itself, or smile upon his fortunes. Looking forward to eliminating him if we just so happen to cross paths..

CID: Alioth Starr?

DAN: Now he's just another glory hound who thinks he's the hottest thing since string cheese. A long reigning champion who won't let go of the past (looks over at Cid) Kinda like some people I know!

CID: What? Why are you looking at me?

Dan shakes his head and Cid goes back to reading the list.

CID: Chaz Dillinger?

DAN: Chaz is a silver-spoon punk and apparent heir to one of history's most notorious bank robbers. Don't know how legit that all is, but his nickname isn't even original, it was on loan.. He's just as pathetic as the rest and he's nothing more than cannon fodder.

CID: Faith Simpson?

DAN: Now there's a young lady who's talents would be better suited sliding on a pole than trying to wrestle in a man's sport.

Rhonda furrows her brow at Dan, who doesn't skip a beat.

DAN: Of course, Rhonda - you are an exception to that rule, my dear.

Rhonda smiles, reaches forth and messes up Dan's hair.

CID: What about this Crowbar guy?

DAN: He's a low-level talent trained by some has-been. He's also been dealing with "anger management" problems. Exploit this and he's out. Most likely gonna get himself arrested after being eliminated. Fuckin' bi-polar hothead - he's in the wrong business. Better off getting a job in Postal or even the Welfare office..

CID: Aspen Chaud? Why do I feel I know this name?

DAN: She's some Hollywood bigwig's daughter who's mother probably had to to "suck cock" for a bit part in a movie. Otherwise, she's a pathetic little scheming bitch who acts like a spoiled brat.

CID: Hmmm.. Sounds familiar.. Uhm, Donald Derunty?

DAN: The man comes from a family of military background. Honorable & full of respect his family, But I'd still eliminate him like all the rest! He's got about a snowballs chance in Hell.

Cid passes the list to Rhonda and yawns. Rhonda picks up from where Cid left off.


RHONDA: Alexis Terry?

DAN: She's B.F.F. (Best Friend Forever) to that Aspen bitch. Just as spoiled as she is, only not too fuckin' bright.

CID: Now SHE sounds familiar!

Rhonda looks at Cid, and kicks him in the shin. Cid howls in pain.

CID: Ow.. Baby, that was a long time ago!

Rhonda sneers at Cid.

RHONDA: Keep it that way!

Rhonda reads on.

RHONDA: Marcus Hister?

DAN: Resident mid-carder who did time in the cuckoo's nest for whacking a co-worker. I'm sure the rest of the roster probably is aware of this and they will probably try to get rid of that psychotic bastard as quick as possible.

RHONDA: Wake Walker?

DAN: Yet another loony toon, this one has a death sentence from rare disease. I fuckin' hope he croaks in the ring!

RHONDA: Terry Marvin?

DAN: No chance.. Next.

RHONDA: Seth Black?

DAN: Guys decent, but he's like a case of the crabs, hard to get rid of. Be interesting to see how far he gets, especially when I make to the very end.

CID: When?

Dan looks up at Cid.

DAN: Yeah. I intend on sticking this one out. And I don't care who gets in my way.. APW, SCW, PW, WARPED - it doesn't matter what fed or who they send. I'm going in this to make a statement. And that statement is that I will fight - tooth and nail to win because this is my chance to shine and I'm not going to pass it up for anyone. As far as anyone on the APW Roster with half the salt to get through this one alive, I'm "The One" - and not like Lester Only - He's Level One. I'm like Dragon Ball Z on roids, I go OVER NINE THOUSAND and not just saying that because of some ego-driven campaign to make myself feel good, no.. The reason why I'm The One Man to look forward to winning this entire contest lies in the time and effort I've not only spent and vested in my career, but in the fact that I know what to expect. And guys who think that they are going to remotely make any kind of an impact because of the mean streets that they grew up on, or the fact that they made it to the very end last year, or because they feel that they're so popular that their name is gonna intimidate and carry them through is a joke who is in for the worst wake up call of their lives. I don't expect to win, I intendto win, and I'll go through an 89 year old with Parkinsons to do it if I have to!

Cid stands and claps, followed by Rhonda. Dan gets up and takes a bow.

DAN: Thank you both so very much!

Dan turns towards the cameras.

DAN: So get ready folks! Because unlike any other APW Superstar, I'm the one who doesn't intend to falter in this contest. I am yours truly, Dan "The Man" Bochner! Remember the name, and get to know it well, because come Survive and Conquer, you'll all have no choice but to cheer it!

Cameras fade out, as the cameraman gives Dan a thumbs up.

CAMERA MAN #1: That's a wrap for the spoken part of your promo. My brother's at the place waiting for you to record part two..

Dan nods, as Cid and Rhonda look at eachother dumbfounded

CID: What's going on, Dan? What's he talking about?

Dan quietly goes to a closet and grabs his jacket, as Cid looks at Rhonda, who shrugs her shoulders.

CID: Where are you going, Dan?

DAN: We..

CID: What?

DAN: Where are we going. It's a surprise. Come along now, you two. You're gonna get a kick out of this.

Cid and Rhonda grab their coats and follow Dan.

LATER...

The three enter a random Karaoke Bar in the city. The Karaoke Host is already on the microphone and speaks.

KARAOKE HOST: Ladies & Gentlemen! Please give a warm welcome toa guy who's looking to be the winner of Action Packed Wrestling's Survive and Conquer Tournament - Dan "The Man" Bochner!!!

The crowd goes nuts with applause as people start chanting ASX. The Karaoke Host interrupts after awhile.

KARAOKE HOST: Now, i'm not going to beat around the bush, here. Dan and I are friends, and he wanted to sing a song for all of you and for all of his opponents. So without further ado, I'd like to bring Dan up here onto the stage..

Cid and Rhonda are beside themselves as Dan smiles and runs up onto the stage and raises both his arms. The crowd starts a "DAN" Chant, as the Karaoke Host, hand Dan a second microphone.

KARAOKE HOST: Now, I was told that you wanted to sing "I'm going Slightly Mad" by Queen. But you also told me that you've been practicing the song with your own lyrics?

DAN: That's correct. I will be singing the song to my own lyrics, which will be displayed onscreen for the rest of the crowd to sing along to! And hopefully, my opponents at S&C will see this too and sing along as well!

KARAOKE HOST: All right! Let's just get you all situated here. We've got the instrumental CD and we've got the lyrics, so we're all set to go! Ladies and Gentlemen - Dan "The Man" Bochner!!!

The crowd applauds as The Karaoke Host exits the stage, leaving Dan there by himself. Dan takes a deep breath and awaits for the music to start..

DAN'S SONG FOR SURVIVE AND CONQUER - "I'm going slightly Mad" (embellished lyrics - sing along if you'd like!)



"When the bell rings this week on Asylum
And it becomes so very clear
that Rico Casteel and Mike Morrison
Are both bound to walk in shame - and fear
Am I trying to tell you all something?
Is everyone in this contest Screwed?
I'm going to eliminate every one this year
And send 'em all home crying blues...

I'm going to win this year
I'm going to win this year
It is gonna happen - happen
It is gonna happen - ooh woh
It'll finally happen - I'm going to win - oh yeah!

Ha ha ha ha ha
I'm one wildcard in this whole deck
I'm not quite the favorite
One dark horse in this whole battle
I am the man who will be winning
I'm going to raise my hand in victory
And laugh when it's all said and done
This tournament is just about over
Because the winner is going to be me

This year
I'm going to survive
I'm going to survive
And I'm going to conquer - conquer
Yes, I'm going to conquer - uh huh
The man is gonna conquer - I'm gonna win - this year!

Uh uh ah ah
Uh uh ah ah

I'm entrant numero sixteen
I'm talking much trash it's true
I'm feeling my confidence building
But how will I show that my words ring true?

I'm going to win this year
I'm going to win this year
It'll finally happen
It'll finally happen - oh yes
It'll finally happen - I'm going to win
I'm really going to win!
And there you have it!"

The song ends and Dan tosses the mic aside, as the crowd erupts in applause. Even Cid Phoenix claps his hands with conviction as he is definitely impressed with his partner's choice for shooting a promo. Dan hops off of the stage and is welcomed by a sea of fans who all shake his hand and pat him on the back. He eventually approaches Cid, who grabs his hand and raises it in victory.

CID: This is the guy to bet on for Survive and Conquer! Forget all of those other hopefuls, who think they've got a shot at greatness! 2012 is the year of Dan "The Man" Bochner and Cid Phoenix!

The crowd celebrates, as Dan and Cid share a brotherly hug. Rhonda comes over and gives a hug and kiss as well. The three then all go back up on stage and raise their arms together as the crowd chants ASX.

[smraye]

ACT 1-Survival

The camera fades in on a man wearing a hooded jacket walking through a park alone. The sky is gray, a lonesome rain falls around him. He stops and stares at a statue of a man on horseback for a moment before slowly turning and walking toward a bench. He sits down and stares straight ahead, as the cool water cascades around him. He removes the hood, revealing himself as WEW's own Courier of Controversy SM Raye. As the Elitist of the year becomes more and more soaked his hair barely covers his bright, bloodshot eyes. His blazing orbs glare through the camera as the water drops from his dark strands and down his face. A deep male voice begins to play as he continues to stare off at nothing.

"Survival... A living or continuing longer... A relic or custom of the past... Survive... To outlive, to outlast, to endure..."

As the first voice fades away a pre-recorded of Raye's voice replaces it.

Survival... The one word that defines the early years of my life. From conception to my teen years I lived my life one day at a time and my decisions were made purely for what each day brought... For the people who THINK they know me this should be an eye opener... For those in the Survive and Conquer Battle Royal who are yet to see me in action.... This should give you a HINT at who and what you'll be dealing with in that match..."

As Raye's words fade away as does the image of him and it is slowly replaced by an image of a young couple.

womenfindingmen.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/happy-young-couple1.jpg

The first voice over begins again.

"On February Second of 1985, the man currently known as SM Raye was born to Samuel Matthew Sullivan and Daniela Lynn Raye of Chicago. He weighed six pounds and eight ounces and was forty-three inches long. His father was a major player in the independent circuit as a wrestler, climbing the ranks slowly, but surely and his mother was a waitress/bartender holding down odd jobs to help her family get by. When Sebastian turned two his father suffered a career ending neck injury after a botched piledriver caused his head to slam into a thinly padded section of the ring. Samuel became addicted to alcohol as it numbed his pain and the frustration of never living his dream caused him to become violent toward his family. The next two years were filled with alternating visits to the hospital between the toddler and his mother. At the age of five Sebastian had already suffered a dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs, and a destroyed ear drum. Daniela became pregnant a second time this time with a daughter named Jo-Anna. When the girl was six months old she witnessed the death of her mother at the hands of her father in a drunken rage. All this act of extreme stupidity caused were three adversed effects... The siblings were placed in foster care and finally separated, Samuel spent ten years in prison, and Sebastian became a troubled child. Sebastian jumped from foster home to foster home and was in and out of boarding schools until the age of sixteen. That is when things really became interesting..."

As the voice-over ends the image of a teenage Raye is shown before all fades to black.

Act 2-Thrive/Night of Winter Warzone/After Major announcement

The camera fades back to the sound of water running, steam fills the room as the water cuts off and the door opens. Sebastian grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist before walking over to a mirror and whipping it with his hand. Staring into his reflection the image fades into random letters, short names for the wrestling promotions in which he has worked. Another voice over begins to play.

"Thrive... To prosper; be fortunate or successful... To grow or develop vigorously; flourish..."

"From the age of six I ran away from everything and everyone of which I felt I didn't belong... At the age of sixteen I ran away from an amazing family purely for that reason... When I ran I found myself at a carnival and just outside of a barricade watching two grown men throwing each other around to the delight of an adoring public... It was that day that I found where I belong..."

Random clips from early matches and training sessions of the young man later to be known as SM Raye play with his current theme Five Finger Death Punch's Bad Company in the background. The young man is shown being thrown around and slammed repeatedly. The camera fades out for a second and returns with The Courier of Controversy standing backstage at Winter Warzone.

"The first year was murder as some would say... I loved every second of it... The roar of a Saturday night crowd... The blood, sweat, and tears... A new city every other day with each holding it's own wonders... After years of taking a beating and coming back for more got me much attention and I got spotted by talent scouts from Japan that is where I went and met up with former tag team partner Kurt Sanchez... The man who was younger than me, but took to wrestling like a duck to water... He took me under his wing for about three years and then dumped me for some bum who ended up getting hurt and leaving Kurt alone for me to destroy... We had a wild series of matches starting in the United States with CzW... Better known as Combat Zone Wrestling, but their fan base didn't have the stomach for the barbaric fights we had night in and night out. So the series went over-seas to Japan and then down to just below the American Border to Mexico... That series alone took three years of our lives until Kurt now known as Jetstream. It was the last match between me and him that got ME noticed by the World Elite Wrestling talent scouts.... WEW owner Alakai Burke gave me a short term contract just to see what I could do with the ball he handed to me... Though he had me make some changes..."

The WEW logo fades in as Raye's words stop and start over once more.

"WEW wanted me to be a mouth piece... A marketable personality... That was not what I stood for at that point in my career so I turned myself from a man of action to a man of words... That gimmick as some might call it got me half-way far and earned me my first title within that company... The WEW Universal Title... The belt I won from Brie Bella at my second Pay Per View appearance for the company... I was the first man to hold that title since WEW started and though many looked down on me for beating a woman for a championship I didn't give a rat's ass and I still don't... A win is a win and a belt is a belt... I held that title LONGER than anyone before me ever did, until I was STRIPPED of it... The WEW management wanted ME to be the face of their new brand known as Adrenaline... And I was until Sayge Jemson beat me to take MY King of the Ring crown with just a LITTLE help from my rival Chris Cane... AND that lost would cost me more than I would have EVER thought... I went unbooked for a month... I announced that my contract was expiring which IS true and that I might possibly be HANGING up my boots... And then can you guest what happened? The last Adrenaline before this night... Yes we are at Winter Warzone... I was part of the Main-Event taking on at least as of this time WEW World Champion Johnny Caldwell better known as Slash... That victory proved to EVERYONE that I still CAN and WILL be able to hang with these young PUNKS any day of the week... And to top things off an OLD FRIEND has returned... Kurt Sanchez is back... As I said Kurt I will deal with YOU in due time... Chris Cane know the same I CAN say about YOU as well..."

An evil smirks grows on the face of the man now calling himself The One Man Militia.

"AS I said earlier... I am a FREE AGENT as of right now... I will still be representing WEW for the APW Survive and Conquer event, but as far as WEW goes I am FREE to do WHATEVER I see fit... So if I see fit to END one of you IF not both of YOU at MY next convenience so be it... I AM the MASTER of MY own FATE now... I AM the one who calls the shots... And the FIRST shot that I CALL... I take care of my SOON to be FATHER-IN-LAW... I'm sure by this time Chris knows that I am marrying his adopted daughter, Lluvia... Chris, you and I both KNOW that we respect one another and WE both know our fates are pretty well set in stone... Kurt you on the other hand have NO idea the MONSTER I can be... YOU HAVE NO (bleep)ING IDEA THE HELL I CAN BRING! At SURVIVE AND COUNQUER... Some non-essentails will get just a little piece of that terror... JUST a LITTLE piece of the man you are calling out... I WILL SURVIVE! I WILL CONQUER! AND I WILL THRIVE!!! I AM THE MEASURING STICK FOR WEW! I AM A MAN DYNASTY! I AM the MOST controversal man in professional wrestling... I AM the most Elite of the Elitist in WEW... I AM The One Man Militia... And at Survie and Conquer I go to WAR... And my enemies are EVERYONE in that match... So in the meantime... Jetstream... Chris... Think about what you want on your tombstones because I WILL bury you asses in DUE time..."

Sebastian shoves the camera away and the camera man regains control of the device just in time to catch the tunnel visioned superstar walking away.

Act 3-Conquer

The camera fades inside a church, Sebastian kneels at the alter, praying. For forgiveness or for strength it is not certain.

"I want to thank God for granting me this moment of clarity... This moment of honesty... And I hope that you are with me in the coming days to give me the strength to do what I must... To see what I have to see and to survive... Whatever comes my way... I know only death is certain Lord... And I also know that I have brought my share of the dark shrouded master of time to people's livelihoods and emotions over the years... So Lord if you see fit... Help me how best you see to do it... It is in your name and in the name of your son, Jesus Christ I pray... Amen..."

The One Man Militia turns to see the camera and smirks.

"You jackels don't quit do you? Oh well I guess I can give you some FINAL words before the big Survive and Conquer event..."

He sits down in a pew and looks up at the crucifix that is hanging on the wall.

"I'm sure this is the LAST place anyone would expect to find me, but I needed to reflect on everything that is going on right now... I got engaged... Continuing the rivalry with my soon to be father-in-law... Starting another fued with an OLD rival... And it all seems to be coming to a head at the same time..."

He stops and begins to sing the words that seem to be the only thing that he can say these days.

"Oh oh Death... Oh oh Death... Oh oh Death... Won't you spare me over another year? What is this that I can't see with ice cold hands taking hold of me? When God is gone and The Devil takes hold who'll have mercy on your soul?"

He continues to hum the song for a moment.

Death is the only thing that is certain... Life has it's own rocky roads that one must travel to reach the final destination. Heaven or Hell? It is nothing, but our life choices that make that decision... I am FAR from the holiest man in WEW, but I openly admit that fact... I have lusted in MY heart... I have coveted other's possessions, Hell I would sell my soul to get to the WEW Title... I have attacked people in rage... I have shown countless times the PRIDE I have in myself and my actions... You name ANY of the deadly sins and I have probably done each one at least twice... I have ended careers... Done unspeakable acts on people... I HAVE been called a ticking time bomb more times than I can count... And now that I am not legally under contract for WEW I can do anything... I should be the MOST feared man in WEW or anywhere that I decide to grace with MY presence... No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold... Nothing satisfies my drive to be the best that this business WILL EVER have... APW Survive and Conquer... I come with one goal in mind... And it doesn't matter if I start at number one or come out as the last man in the event... I COME TO CONQUER ALL THAT IS IN MY WAY! Let's think about that word for a moment... Conquer... To overcome by force... To gain a victory over... Surmount... Master... Overcome... To be victorious... I have over came a lot of things in my life... The product of an alcoholic father... A murdered mother... Being told I would NEVER make it in this business... So come Survive and Conquer I WILL prove more nay sayers wrong... I will thrive... I will overcome... And I will win... To my fellow Elitist... Good Luck... To the idiots from other promotions who were also crazy enough to think they will reach what they seek... Pray for the best and prepare for the worst... Because come Survive and Conquer... Only Death is certain..."

[Jason Cashe]

(*I AM REALLY NOT SURE THIS IS EVEN WORTH WRITING. WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE SERIOUS, JUST FUN AND HOPEFULLY NASTY AND FUNNY ALL ROLLED INTO ONE. I JUST WENT WITH SHIT AND IN MY CURRENT STAGE OF HIGH AND TIRED...FUCK IT, HERE IS IT, IT IS..WHATEVER!!)

--In Lovin' Memory--
Purdie Mae
2006--2012

NOOOOOO!!!! Why it have'ta be my baby gurl? I "sware" I'm gunna win diss darn Survive N' "Concore" for my Purdie Mae! I done Dedicate it tah her lookin on up in Heaven!

A mount of dirt sitting on the top of a small hill is where the cameras find S&C Contestant, Gally Po. Flowers cupped at the steam in both hands, he is grieving over the loss of his loved one. Kneeling down onto the dirt covered hill, Gally places the flowers onto the little wooden plank sticking out like a Headstone. Tears rolling down Po's face, he wipes them with the back of his arms which are covered in fresh dirt. Having just dug the hole, Gally has had his workout for the day. He stands to his feet and sniffs hard, swallowing a big gulp of snot and saliva at the back of his throat.

Dat was a dang good dog right thurr....I'm gunna miss ol' Purdie Mae.

No sooner than Gally Po turning around does another, much younger Shaggy fur Dog comes trotting up the small hill. Gally Po leans over and scratch rubs the puppy's head and heads down the hill. He slips and lands on his ass half way down the hill, laughing at himself as his new dog jumps and begins to molest him with his tongue. Gally pushes the puppy off him and grabs a stick on the ground as he returns to his feet.

Spanky, go 'head tah tha house boy! (Stares at the Camera) Now I done waited. I done watched and done seen all these dang folks puttin' out they promos. Ya'll ain't even gotta worry 'bout dat dere' cause I'm winnin' dis thang, walkthrough like a six pack of any kind of ber! I ain't done seen ONE man or female who gots dem a move like me. I got da most 'feard" move in all'a rasslin' and on top'a dat? I ain't never been "baiten", not in one "sangle" match I tell ya right! I been tah U-Dubbya-F who got some folks here "represantin" but ain't "nan-nonna" dem as good as Gally Po! I'm one of dem Texas Bull Snakes and ain't 'nonna' yas gunna withstand my Buttah Cup Blastah cause it done be da best thang tah hit the rasslin rang! Oh dang, I thank J'rry Spranger comin' on![/b][/color]

Spanky the Puppy is waiting for his owner at the Fence at the bottom of the hill. Gally opens the gate and Spanky barks repeatedly and runs out of the scene. The view turns to a Gally Po 3rd person view to see a long Trailer inside of a poorly graded fence that only comes up to Gally's waist. Up to the porch of the Trailer, Gally Po struggles to get his front door open. He yanks and almost falls off the porch as it jolts open. Beer cans come rolling out like the trailer is filling up with aluminum cans. He grins at the camera, showing his yellow teeth and broken smile. Eyes turning white due to drinking. He steps into the trailer and grabs a Beer from a 24 Case on a counter.

Inside the trailer was disgusting. Old food, cockroaches in everything and Gally Po walks on shit and gets to what seems to be a couch/bed area. He flops into the cushions of it and his new dog jumps up and lays on the red velvet blanket that covers the who thing. Gally pulls an open bag of potato chips out from under Spanky the Dog's ass. Spanky had started licking his butthole and was rubbing against the bag but Gally looks inside the bag and pulls out a chip. Crunching into the chip, it hardly makes a snap. Soggy and old but Po isn't one to complain about the little things in life. To him he is a prize, a top talent in a business he barely competes in and a prime side of man beef for all the ladies of the world. The small television is propped up on a few milk crates. The intro for Jerry Springer comes on and Gally smiles, his eyes glance over at the camera.

Now I done said all I needs tah say bout dis dang match. Am I suppose'ta talk bout some of da names in dis match? Alright, I gunna do it. (Wipes hands clean of chips) Dere is dis one guy in da match, umm..Oh yup, I got it! Beth Slack! I had tah remember a Sheep I once done had, beautiful lover...I mean "fraind" she was! Spanky, you done would'a liked dat sheep! I'd have let you take a turn playin' with her! Dang, you just like Purdie Mae! Now where was I? Oh yeah, Keaton Faint! He'a real putz, what else is dere' to even say bout dat? Let's see, who else on the listin for a beatin from Ol' Gally Po? Wait, I got some of dem names wrote down somewheres.... (Looks around) Ahh here it at! Lemme see here...Az-Z-ZyRah-Elle? Goer...like Lucha Goers from dat Final Phantasy game? I ain't scurred of no Blitzballer, dat ain't even a real sport dummy. Heh..Some guy named Bryan, is that a female? Sweet Baby Jesus! Gab..Gab..Reeil? I think dat was spelt wrong. Is his last name Allergie? Ohhh, I HATE bein' sick! Who else on dis dang list? Hahaha Oh My GAWD! Some dude named Miranda! He's a Homo-SEX-U-AL if I done ever seen one. My church said they is a cure for bein' gay, my cousin Rodney Po is bein' prayed for! I don't much see tah much tah be worryin' bout if ya ask me! I got dis in the bag like a kitten at the bottom of the lake!

A wet fart breaks out from under Gally Po, he lifts his leg enough for his dog to come sniffing and smells the fart smell floating in the space of the trailer. Gally reaches back and sticks his hand into the back of his pants, digging up into his ass. He pulls out his hand, a few pieces of crumbbed toilet paper stuck to his open palm. Brown marks here and there on his fingers as he smells his hand and smiles. He picks the toilet paper off his skin and grabs the camera with his dirty hand.

Dis be da smell of success folks! Gally Po, da one dat will Survive N' "Concore" and dat is SOOOoo Swweet! Juss' like da Buttah Cup Blastah!

As the view begins to pull away from Gally, he leans back and grabs the old bag of chips and begins eating more of them. Using the hand he had up his ass. The view begins to speed away after it leaves the trailer as the Camera Man is hauling ass away from this disgusting palace that is Gally Po's pad of pleasure.

[Anthony Bailey]

"Veni, veni, vici." – Julius Caesar. The popular phrase was formulated by the Roman general in approximately 47 B.C. as he explained to others his victory over Pharnaces II of Pontus in the Battle of Zela.

"I came, I saw, I conquered. From record sales to sold out concerts." – Jay-Z. These lyrics were voiced by the multiplatinum rapper on his 2003 song entitled "Encore."

Veni - Latin for "I came"

{{The scene opens to the inside of the Kayseri Erkilet International Airport. Kayseri is a large industrialized city located in Central Anatolia, Turkey. Though the airport is fairly busy, APW mega star Anthony Bailey is immediately spotted nearby along with two familiar companions of his. One of Bailey’s companions is the unidentified young Hispanic woman with long dark hair and the other is a young unidentified African American male. Another reason for pinpointing Bailey with ease in the midst of the chaotic crowd is because of his clothing. Not clad in your average Turkish garments, Bailey’s wearing a dark blue and gold Action Packed Wrestling hoodie, light blue jeans, and a pair of dark blue, gold, and white Nike sneakers. He and his friends are walking towards the camera toting their luggage and eventually get close enough to have their conversation heard more clearly.}}

Young African American Male: So this is it huh?

{{He looks around in minor disgust.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Yup! This is it. I can’t believe we are actually here though! This place is so rich with history and ancient civilization, it’s pretty amazing!

Young African American Male: If I recall correctly, didn’t you hate history class at Flagler?

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Kind of, but that’s a bit different.

Young African American Male: How is it different?

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Because back then, I was forced to learn the material. Nobody likes to be forced to do anything they really don’t want to. And plus, my teacher was monotone and boring as heck.

{{Anthony and his friends laugh.}}

Young African American Male: Who’d you have again?

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Mr. Long…

{{The young male cringes.}}

Young African American Male: Ugh! I had that dude my freshman year…what a clown! He bored me to tears each class.

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: You mean like Anti-Society X?

{{Anthony and his friends laugh louder than before.}}

Young African American Male: That’s a low blow man. Leave them clowns alone.

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Hahaha! Yeah, you’re right. But Mr. Long, I was so ready to drop the class but he was the only one teaching it that semester that coincided with my schedule.

Young African American Male: Hmm, makes sense…

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Well, it didn’t at first but it does now…

{{The young woman interrupts Anthony and his friend.}}

Young Hispanic Woman: Does anyone know where we are going?

Young African American Male: I’m not even going to lie ‘cause I don’t…

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: We’re going in the right direction boo. This is just a big airport, bigger than the one in Jacksonville, so the walk to the front seems like it’s taking forever.

Young African American Male: Hey Ant, what’s the manual say about taxis?

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: We’re good man. The hotel concierge arranged all of that for us.

Young African American Male: Oh for real? That’s what’s up then. I’m definitely not trying to stand out or look like a tourist. Floridians aren’t exactly acquainted with sufficient public transportation.

{{Anthony laughs.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: You got that right.

{{Anthony glances over towards his female friend.}}

What’s wrong? Honestly, I promise you we are going in the right direction. You know I hate being lost.

Young Hispanic Woman: It’s not that babe…I’m just a bit nervous babe…

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Aww, come here girl.

{{Anthony places his arm around her and pulls her closer to him.}}

We’ll be fine; we don’t have anything to worry about. We’ll all be together the entire trip. Turkey is just like any other place. It’s just the culture that’s different for the most part…

Young African American Male: And the radical Islamists.

{{Anthony bites his bottom lip and punches his friend in the arm.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Shut up man!! Dag!

Young African American Male: My bad dude, chill…

{{Anthony begins shaking his head. As deeply exhales, he reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out a small pamphlet. He redirects his attention towards the camera.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: I apologize for my friend over here but what’s going on everybody? Or should I say Merhaba…that’s hello in Turkish. If you take a quick look around…

{{Anthony pauses for a brief moment.}}

It’s obvious that we aren’t in St. Augustine any more. I needed a few days to get away, far away at that, to get my head clear before Survive & Conquer. So much has been going through my mind and so much pressure from others and even myself have been consuming me as of late. I’m so glad that you all are able to witness our little excursion over here firsthand. I know we’re going to have a great time and I truly hope you enjoy what you see.

{{Anthony looks to his right. He sees a bearded male holding a small white sign saying “Bailey.” Bailey’s friend points in the direction of the man.}}

Young African American Male: Is that him right there, Ant?

{{Anthony gently moves his friend’s hand back down by his side.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: If pointing is rude in America, what makes you think it won’t be over here? You really are bugging right now aren’t you?

{{Bailey’s friend titters.}}

Young African American Male: Oh, so you’re a foreign customs expert now? You plan on opting out of your APW contract and becoming a foreign ambassador for the Obama Administration?

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Obama Administration??! You’re kidding me right?

{{Bailey pauses.}}

A Paul Administration I would consider, but Obama? I would never dedicate an ounce of my being to that man or his entire administration.

{{Bailey refocuses on the bearded man.}}

But yeah, I think that’s our taxi driver over there. With that being said, we’ll catch you all in about four and a half hours. That’s how long it’ll take to arrive to our next destination. The sleep will do me good anyway. This time zone change is driving me crazy already and we just landed! See you all soon…

{{Anthony and his friends continue to walk towards the taxi driver and attempt to begin talking to him with the help of their Turkish/English dictionaries as the scene fades to black.}}

Vidi - Latin for "I saw"

"Having ended the wars, he celebrated five triumphs, four in a single month, but at intervals of a few days, after vanquishing Scipio; and another on defeating Pompey's sons. The first and most splendid was the Gallic triumph, the next the Alexandrian, then the Pontic, after that the African, and finally the Spanish, each differing from the rest in its equipment and display of spoils. 2. As he rode through the Velabrum on the day of his Gallic triumph, the axle of his chariot broke, and he was all but thrown out; and he mounted the Capitol by torchlight, with forty elephants bearing lamps on his right and his left. In his Pontic triumph he displayed among the show-pieces of the procession an inscription of but three words, "I came, I saw, I conquered," not indicating the events of the war, as the others did, but the speed with which it was finished."*

{{The camera pans right to see Anthony close a book with one of his finger’s still in it to hold his place. He’s seated on a chair inside of a dimly lit room. He glances up at the camera and begins to speak.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: For some reason, this story was not relevant to me at all during my time at Flagler College. Maybe I was too busy trying to holler at all of the girls.

{{Anthony smiles.}}

Unfortunately, slaving away for a degree isolates you from the reality of what does and does not apply to you. That’s the trap that many students fall into while trying to chase the American “dream.” Keep your GPA elevated so you don’t lose your financial aid and negate any other opportunities because these next four years will define who you are for the rest of your life and propel you to that lucrative career you’ve been dreaming about for years. What an unfavorable lie that is! And the crazy thing is that I loved every single minute of my college experience. I don’t regret the late night cram sessions, dozing off in class, or waiting until the last minute to start and complete a twenty page essay. I know that just threw some people off. I bet you expected me to make myself out to be some sort of model student or something…

{{Anthony slightly snickers.}}

I was far from that believe me, but I was disciplined enough to still pass and graduate with honors. I mean it was either that or become a casualty at the hands of my mother because she was forking out a lot of money. I’ll forever cherish those moments because they helped in making me who I am. But walking across that stage at graduation, being handed my degree, and posing for a few pictures here and there, I couldn’t echo the words of Julius Caesar in this book right here. I couldn’t boldly or even timidly murmur the phrase “veni, vidi, vici” because though I consider myself intellectual, I didn’t conquer the college world per se because my heart wasn’t there. Yes, my head was there. My critical thinking and problem solving skills were also present and fined tuned, but my heart…my heart belonged to wrestling. It had always been that way…

The fact of not having a father in my household growing up but still having a father present in my life was a blessing in disguise. Calling up my pops when I first started learning how to shave or when I needed advice for my first date made me feel validated as a man. And like college, those moments will remain with me for as long as I live. But whenever I made good grades or won a game at school, my dad would tell me that he had a surprise for me. I never wanted it to be a new bike or a new toy, but I always wanted it to be tickets to a live wrestling event and eighty percent of the time it was. These events were not just opportunities for me to spend quality time with my father, but my father was unknowingly cultivating a strong desire within me. The desire to one day be a participant in the events themselves and no longer just a spectator.

That’s what brought me here. Not just to Action Packed Wrestling, but to Zile, Turkey. Not only did I feel the need for some overseas solitude before Survive & Conquer, but something hit me. Reading Suetonius’ book in my bedroom is cool and all, but what if I could read the words of this great ancient wordsmith in the very same city that Julius Caesar himself made the historic declaration? This is motivation for me and going up against eighty-five other hungry individuals who would kill for a trophy, bragging rights, and half a million dollars, I’m going to need all of the motivation I can get…but this…this here is a great place to begin. I’ve traveled abroad many times before, but mainly for family vacations and things of that nature. Rest and relaxation were all that I had obtained prior to this specific trip. This trip serves as a pilgrimage and if all goes according to plan, I will not return to American soil the same. I, Anthony Reese Bailey, am transforming right before your very eyes.

{{Suddenly, a faint vibration noise is heard. Anthony pulls a black iPhone 4S from his pocket. He glances at it and begins to read what appears to be a text message to himself aloud.}}

Hey…we are on the way up. See you soon…

{{Anthony places the phone down on the nearby coffee table.}}

Hold that thought, I’m going to get ready really quick…

{{Anthony gets up from his seat and walks over to the bathroom. He turns on the water and begins to wash his face inside of the sink. As he grabs a towel and starts to pat his face dry, the main entrance door swings open and his two friends walk in.}}

Young African American Male: Ready to roll my dude?

{{Anthony speaks loudly from the bathroom.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Yeah!

Young Hispanic Woman: The lobby is so gorgeous babe! When we get back, you’ve got to go exploring with me. You’ve been cooped up in the room for hours.

{{Anthony exits the bathroom.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Yeah, I know. That’s my fault…it’s just this book…I can’t put it down.

Young African American Male: Who travels to the other side of the world just to read a book?

{{Anthony gives his friend a stern look.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Uh newsflash, the book is the whole reason we’re here. That’s the point!

Young African American Male: Yeah, I know but…

{{Anthony cuts him off.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: But what? But nothing. Nobody made you come, you wanted to come.

Young Hispanic Woman: Okay guys, really? This is so not necessary right now. You two have been bickering almost the entire trip. Let’s just go downstairs, hop in the taxi, and go to the site…

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Cool…

{{Anthony grabs his phone from the coffee table and then exits the room.}}

Young African American Male: Your boy is really tripping right now.

Young Hispanic Woman: No, he isn’t. He’s just had a really long day. All of us have. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day without anymore mishaps okay?

Young African American Male: Deal…

{{They also exit the room. The scene shifts to the three of them riding inside of a taxi cab; Anthony is seated in the front passenger seat holding a Turkish/English dictionary along with his copy of Suetonius’ Lives of the Twelve Caesars: Julius folded in his lap. His friends ride silently in the backseat gazing out the window.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Nerede Julius Caesar savaþta site?

{{The English subtitle “Where is the Julius Caesar battle site?” appears at the bottom of the screen.}}

Taxi Driver: Caesar? On dakika yok.

{{The English subtitle “Ten minutes away” appears at the bottom of the screen.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Bizi burada.

{{The English subtitle “Take us there” appears at the bottom of the screen.}}

Taxi Driver: Evet.

{{The English subtitle “Yes” appears at the bottom of the screen. Anthony then turns his attention towards his friends.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: It’s really close; only about ten minutes away.

Young Hispanic Woman: Oh okay, that’s not bad.

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: You good man?

Young African American Male: Yeah, I’m good. My fault about earlier. I’m a bit nervous myself and I overreacted.

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Don’t sweat it fam, it’s all love…

{{Anthony turns around and silence amongst the group once again fills the taxi. Only the sounds of Turkish music at a low volume can be heard in the background. A few minutes quickly lapse as the taxi slowly comes to a halt.}}

Taxi Driver: Bu kadar.

{{The English subtitle “This is it” appears at the bottom of the screen.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Teþekkürler.

{{The English subtitle “Thanks” appears at the bottom of the screen as Anthony reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few crumpled liras, the Turkish currency, and gives them to the taxi driver.}}

Taxi Driver: Bir þey deðil.

{{The English subtitle “You’re welcome” appears at the bottom of the screen as Anthony and his friends open the doors and exit the taxi. As the taxi slowly drives off, the three witness a beautiful sight of grassy fields and plush trees. Beautiful mountains also emerge from the background. Anthony deeply inhales, exhales, and then he begins to speak.}}

Anthony "The Promise" Bailey: Finally! This is it! This is the site that historians believe that Julius Caesar defeated Pharnaces II. To make the Senate aware of his victory, Caesar wrote to them saying “veni, vidi, vici.” Well I came to Zile, known as Zela in the times of Caesar, and I’ve seen the actual place with my own eyes. Now all that is left for me to do is to conquer…and that consummates on January 29th thousands of miles away from here at Survive & Conquer. While many will simply just be trying to survive, I’ll be shouting vici from the mountaintop.

Vici - Latin for "I conquered"

It’s quite difficult to gather the words that I would like to convey at this point. Not only am I grateful to be in the running for the Tap Out Title, I thank God for my debut match with Johnny Rebel. Not just for the opportunity itself, but also for the outcome. The outcome gave me the reality check that I needed. I was brought to the realization that I’m still growing and evolving as an athlete, but also the fact that when my mind is made up on accomplishing a goal, I do all that I can to deliver. Look at how I went in to the Asylum Supershow. I expected to get the victory and came extremely close. A rookie in his debut match almost gave the experienced Overdrive Champion a run for his money. For all of the critics out there, if my match against Rebel didn’t prove that I’ll be a force to be reckoned with here in the APW, I guess I’ll just have to silence you at Survive & Conquer.

The outcome of my match with Rhonda Vixen was a bit different as I came out victorious and gave the skeptics something else to talk about. No offense to Rhonda or anything, but I wanted that win more than she did. I honestly don’t even know why or how she attempts to wrestle with all of that stuff going on in her personal life concerning her father. If I were her, I would not be able to focus. Oh and her boy Dan Bochner really isn’t even worth me mentioning, but since my name came out of his mouth first, I’ll be glad to discuss this lame excuse of a pro wrestler. Dan, there's a reason why I am called The Promise. It's quite simple actually...I always deliver on my word. Promise is defined as "an express assurance on which expectation is to be based." You, however, seem to greatly struggle with this concept. It’s funny how you've been apart of APW longer than I have and have still yet to gain a victory. And you should possess all of the advantages in the world because you even have a partner to back you up. A win should be a cakewalk for you because whenever you are feeling fatigued, you can always just tag out to the fresh guy. But me? I'm here flying solo with no partner, no stable, no anything and my first night competing here, or competing professionally in this business for that matter, I almost defeated one of this company's top talents. But you? You have all of the above and you couldn't even come out on top against the Martyrs of Madness. There's a reason why Rhonda is dating Cid and not you. It's obvious who the brain of the whole operation is. Cid's IQ must be off the charts. How do I know this? Well he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut when it came to me. But since you decided to open it, I'll let you reap its rewards at the pay per view.

And speaking of Rhonda, from what I've seen so far, she's obviously the best thing happening for your "crew" right now. She's a great competitor and knows her way around the ring. But since you're only twenty-five I don't think you are at risk for memory loss or dementia just yet, but didn't I just beat Rhonda a few days ago on Asylum? So if I, a mere "college boy" as you referred to me beat the best your group has to offer, then what does that say about you Mr. Dangerous? Nice try of attempting to come at me, but please, I ask that you have all of your facts straight the next time around. That is if there even is a next time around. I'm on my way to bigger and better things while you and your partner are looking at becoming dark match mainstays. And don't be too quick to shun the whole college idea either because an education would serve you well given your significant amount of ignorance. Even with you being only community college material, an education is an education right? Take advantage Danny. We have numerous majestic opportunities at our disposal living in America.

And while we’re on the subject of school, a good friend of mine back in high school would always say to me “Belief is shown by life.” I didn’t find this statement profound at the time, but now, it rocks me every time it enters my mind. What you believe will show forth through your life. If I believe that I can defy the laws of gravity and fly, why put my beliefs to test in a miniscule way? You better believe that I’m going to hop on the first plane to New York City, go to the top of the Empire State Building, put my beliefs to the test and leap off of the top floor. Some might think that I’m talking crazy right now, but the one who doesn’t do something on a grand scale such as that, I would think they are the crazy one. If you view your beliefs as objective, put them to the test.

Being here is a test. Round trip international plane tickets and a few nights in a five star hotel are costly, but this is my way of testing my beliefs. This is the only way I saw fit to prepare me for the next level. Many if not all of my eighty-five opponents would sell their soul to reach the next level but are also at the same time unwilling to show the fruit of their longings in their day to day lives. It’s easy to get in front of a camera and belittle the next man but those words will fall on deaf ears if you aren’t putting in work outside of your on camera time. Julius Caesar has been dead and gone for over two thousand years now but here I am, a twenty-one year old black man from Tampa, Florida, trying to do something as powerful and memorable as he did. I don’t desire power, fame, or fortune, those things are fleeting. My sole desire is to go down in the history books of this sport as one of the greatest to ever do it. Make fun of me going to college, my taste in Hip Hop music, or the way that I talk all you want because none of that will ever faze me. I’m too grown to let small things like that get to me. I’m on my way to accomplishing my childhood dreams and you all are just obstacles in my way of reaching them. I’d like to thank you for tuning in today. I’ll see you before you know it.

{{The scene slowly fades to black as Anthony and his friends make their way closer to the splendid historical site.}}

*Taken from Suetonius’ Lives of the Twelve Caesars: Julius

[Hometown Heroes]

When you see Mark Jackson you see a man that is a solid 280 pounds at 6’1. If you notice him walking down the street with his hood over his head and hands in pockets. You would never thought he was a wrestlers. Since of the age of 18 he worked his butt off to where he is today in the wrestling world. As Mark was walking down the street he was lost with his thoughts. Mark turn the corner as he stood in front of the school for a minute. The school he was standing in front of was Aggression Wrestling School. He owned the school since the death of his wife. He open the doors walked inside as he looked around at many of the students as they were working out in the ring. There were students standing around it as they were getting a lesson from Charles Max. Mark just smiled softly as he nod over to him as he walked towards his office. As he walked inside of his office sitting there was Jun Yao along with Jasmine Lee. Jasmine Lee was playing a game on her iphone as she was lost in thought as Jun leaning back in the chair at the desk. He was on the computer looking up information about Action Packed Wrestling. Jun looked up and smile over at Mark.

“It seems you got here just in time Bro. Lizzette just called and told me that the reporter and her will be here in a few from Action Packed Wrestling. I really wish I could had been apart of that Battle Royal. I was just sitting here looking over some of the guys and gals on the roster. Man they would be great to work against in the ring. “

Mark nods softly as he remove his hood off his head as he place his jacket in the nearby chair.

“How about we make that happen?”

Jasmine blinks as she looked over at Mark as he was sitting on the edge of his desk as he pick up the dart from the can. He threw it towards the dartboard as it wasn’t even closed to the bull eyes. Jasmine looked over at him like he was crazy. She walked over to him and gently check his forehead as he just chuckles softly pushing her hand away.

“Even thought we are the Tag Team Champions at one place doesn‘t mean we can‘t be in another company. I will always look for ways for us to improved in the ring. So just staying in one company isn‘t going to help us. ”

Jun grins at the sound of that as he rub his hands together as he looked at him.

“You know me. I am game. I see it like this. Wherever Hometown Heroes goes it doesn’t matter what company they are apart of they will always be the ones stealing the spotlight. “

Jun just grins as Jasmine shook her head laughing at him as Mark shook his head with a soft chuckle as he scratch his chin.

“I will have Mrs. Money Bags set up a meeting with President Jeff about us coming over to Action Packed Wrestling. Jaz, will you be fine with that.”

Jasmine smiled over at them as she looked over at them with a smirk.

“You know I go where the team goes.”

Just as she says that Lizzette walked inside of the office with a smiled on her face as she took off her shades as she move out of the way for the reporter to comes inside. Lizzette looked over at the others.

“Let get this started!”

-------------

Mark Jackson is inside of the ring with a young male student around the age 18. The young student try to hook up with Mark as he shook his head. Mark then show him the right way of hooking up. He pointed to another student to come inside of the ring. The two students started to hook up inside of the ring as a male reporter came into camera view. He had on a APW Staff shirt from the headquarter wearing a pair of blue jeans as he smiled into the camera.

“Hello there fans of Action Packed Wrestling. I am Pete Ross from APW.dot. I am coming to you from Brooklyn, New York where Mark Jackson from Global Champion Wrestling . Right now we are here at a wrestling school that he owned with his brother and sister in law. We came here today for all the fans to get a bit of a insight of one of the 86 wrestlers that will be taking part in one of the biggest EVENT in wrestling history which is Survive and Conquer. It takes place January 29th 2012 in The American Airlines Arena in the hottest city in American Miami, Florida. We will be sitting down with Mark Jackson!”

That when a video package start to play to the song “Sound of Madness” by Shinedown that plays in the background of clips of Mark Jackson inside of the ring down at Global Champion Wrestling. Once the package is over they are sitting in chairs. Mark had on a white shirt with blue jeans with his hands in front of him looking over at Pete with a smile.

Pete: Thank you for taking this time out with us. I believe the fans of APW would like to know a bit more about Mark Jackson. I had look over your record at Global Champion Wrestling and you and Jun Yao has been doing some great things over there. Your guys have a remarkable record and also your both are the Tag Team Title holders over there. It is like your guys are unstoppable right now.

Mark just chuckles a bit as he rub his chin a bit.

Mark: You can say that about us. We are hard working wrestlers that loved to go out there and place on a great show for the fans. That one thing we do believe in is the fans. The fans are the ones that helped build a wrestler career. The fans are the reason why us wrestler get paid for what we loved to do. In order for the fans to enjoy what you call your craft you have to make sure it magical. If not. You won’t make it big in the wrestling world.

Pete nods softly as he looked over at him.

Pete: That is true. It seems you a smart man. Especially with the fact you have this wrestling school here.

Mark: I never thought I would be in charge of a wrestling school. I always believe I just do what I do best is which is wrestles. I never thought I could teach others the same craft I am so in love with. Just to watch as these students come in here everyday. They have the same type of passion and loved for this sport like me. It unbelievable. Words can’t tell you how I feel. That what my wife wanted to do. My wife wanted a place for people who has a love for this sport have a place they could feel welcome too. A place they could call home and do what they love the most then life itself.

Pete nods softly.

Pete: Speaking of your wife. Her name was Ruthless “Ruthann” Park The Hardcore Queen. Can you tell us about her?”

Mark just chuckles softly as he looked over at him.

Mark: What can I say about her? She loved Wrestling -chuckles- My wife just loved this sport to death just like me. When it came to wrestling even when she shouldn’t be inside of that ring. She would go out there and wrestles her ass off. She did most of the time for the fans. Ruthann loved them. -ran a hand over his hair a bit- My wife had passed away last year . She had a blood cot inside of her brain cause of the many chairs shoot she took to the head. She made the choice to return to the ring to have that one more match. It was a chance for her to do something she always want to do with her career. She couldn’t passed it up. I didn’t blame her either for wanting to do it. She made the choice to let them go inside of her brain to take it out and died on the operation table. What I learn from my wife is never have any regrets. Which is why I sign up for Survivor and Conquer.

Clear his throats.

Mark: I am going to be stepping inside of that ring with about 85 other wrestlers. We all will be stepping inside of that ring with the fact we are all proud we are coming to Action Pack Wrestling to represent the company we are working for. We each have a bit of a view that our own company is better then anyone else. I can’t wait to step inside of that ring with those guys and women. We are all wrestlers and I believe the Action Packed Wrestling fans will have a great show.

Pete: Thank you Mark Jackson for this time. This was APW.com hope to see your guys another time. We will have another wrestler on here apart of the event till next time.

The theme song for Action Pack Wrestling plays as credits appears on the screen and it fades to black.

-----------------------

It was a crowd outside in New York City as they were inside of a park. The camera was moving around the fans as music was playing. People were having fun wearing shirts that either read “Global Champion Wrestler or Mark Jackson or Hometown Heroes.” Among the crowd talking to the fans was Jasmine Lee as she turn around and waves towards the camera with h a smile. Her hood was over her head as she smirks playfully.


“Welcome Action Pack Wrestling fans to one of the many broadcast of …. “

The crowd scream it out along with her.

“To Hometown Heroes Web show…”

Everyone starts to chant Hometown Heroes as Jasmine just grins as she look back at the crowd. Jasmine act like she was she going to cry as she place her hand her heart as she playfully cries.

“Your really loves us.. Your really do…”

Jun Yao a young Asian man came into the shot now as he waves towards the camera and then towards the fans as Jasmine just place her arm on his shoulder looking at him as he spoke.

“Why wouldn’t they? Jaz did you forget who we are. We are Hometown Heroes baby! Now I promise Mark that I would actually try to be on my best behavior today.”

Mark now walked into the shot with the hood over his head as he looked at him shaking his head.

“When do you actually listen to me. You are always bouncing around like a monkey.”

Jun then starts to act like monkey as everyone start to laugh as Mark took his foot and kick him in the ass playfully. Mark let out a soft chuckle as he looked into the camera.

“We have to remember that Action Pack Wrestling isn’t use to how we act among each other. I am the serious one out of the two. Where as Jun.. is.. How can I put it….in a nice way. “

Jun smirks as he looked over at Mark.

“I am the handsome and fun one out of the two but I am sorry ladies the up coming week your will have to happy with seeing Mark’s face.”

Mark looked over at him as he playfully push him out of the way as Jasmine and the fans just laughs as Mark shook his head.

“Yes. Action Pack Wrestling Fans your guys will get the chance to see me. Mark Jackson in action on the 29th of this month. I actually can’t wait to go down to the sun shine state and show them what I am made of it. It not only the fans but Action Pack Wrestling Wrestlers and others from many other companies.”

He fold his arms

“I will be stepping inside of the ring with 86 wrestlers which have the view in mind not only to just put on a great show for their company but also think about it. The grand prize. The prize of 500,000 dollars which will be rewards towards the winner of the event. I haven’t once notice any of the other guys speaking about that. Which I know it on the back of their mind also. “

Jun nods as he slap a hand on Mark’s back as he looked up at him.

“You tell them Mark..”

Mark looked down at Jun as he just shook his head looking right back at the camera as Jun make a funny face at him. Mark lick his lips and rub his hands together.

“That is a lot of money and I can do whatever I want with it but you know what. The money isn’t what on my mind. What on my mind is the way I will have to perform in this match. The first round is the Rumble part. I will be number 50. So I need to make sure I am the last four people. That means I have to Survive.”

Mark pull his hood off as he just chuckles some more as he closed his eyes.

“That word.. Survive.. I have heard that word in my life since of the age of 18. I have been working hard to be where I am here today. There was a chance I would have NEVER become a wrestler from a n injury that happen with me. An injury that could had stop me but guess what? I Survive! Every time when people try to push me down. People always believe because of my size. I am an idiot. I am just pure strength. You all will be stepping inside of that win with a man that has not only the strength to win this big event. “

He smirks.

“I have the smarts to win this match. It doesn’t matter what company you are from. You can be from down the street but that not what people care about. What matter out of all this! What will you bring to the table! What will you bring to the match! I am a man that will bring things to this match they NEVER saw coming. I am going to walking inside of that match and I will conquer it. I will make it something that people for the whole damn year will talk about. At the end of the night. People will talk about all the top stars they believe is the star. Among those stars they will talking about. Is the one looking at you right now! The man that is standing right in front of you right now! A man that had SURVIVE AND CONQUER EVERYTHING that came into his path. “

Place the hood back on his head as Jun starts to jump back and fourth on his feet as he was getting hype up for his friend. The camera now zoom in on his face.

Action Pack Wrestling are you ready for Mark Jackson! I hope you all because if you not. I AM SORRY ABOUT YOUR DAMN LUCK!

Mark laughs as the camera zoon out as the crowd started to chant Mark’s name. Mark, Jun and Jasmine pose together in front of the camera as it goes to black.

[Alioth Starre]

“State your name.”

“Alioth. Alioth Starre, that is.” Alioth replied.

“You went by another name before, didn’t you? Back before this all transpired.”

“Yeah, my legal name used to be James Starre, but that was pre-M.D. era. People knew me as Alioth to the point that it garnered Bowie status, and so I changed it legally.”

“Bowie status? David Bowie, the artist that was very prominent in the seventies and eighties?”

“Right. I meant that when an artist uses a pseudonym for so long in their career, eventually people begin to recognize them by that name and thus call it as if it were their actual name. Daivd Bowie, Madonna, Marilyn Manson. Can you tell me Madonna’s real name?” He asked the interviewer.

“Not off the top of my head, no.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore anyway, they’ve all been dead for decades now. Though it feels like just a lustrum ago, though. Odd, yeah?” Alioth pondered.

“Time does fly, but that’s why we’re here, aren’t we, Alioth? You’ve decided to break your silence on the ’12 incident.”

Alioth rubbed at his cheeks and looked out in wonder. He said with an almost bewildered expression on his face, “wow! Hard to think it’s been just over sixty years since two-thousand and twelve. Really buggered the doom-sayers, but then I remember there was the 2020 kerfuffle with the Scientologists, yeah? Everyone wants a death clock, but some of us never have to worry about that again.”

“Take us to the beginning, Alioth. We know only the very basics about your life from holos from the national library of visual history. You came from Brixton, London and from there moved to Galveston Island in Texas, right?”

“Right. I was well chuffed about that, really. I had gone through a lot in my youth, a british youth,” he smiled at those two words. He remembered it was a nickname from his time in Galveston Texas. He voiced it softly to himself in remembrance, “the British Youth. That’s what some of them called me. Yeah, uhm, I moved from London to Texas on a whim, really. I had heard of the up-and-coming organization that I had actually worked with for many years to come since. Galveston Island Wrestling, I believe.”

“That’s right, and you became champion and somewhat of a local celebrity soon after. Very quick ascension to success.”

Alioth held a finger to his temple in thought and smirked. He said softly, “I’m still longest reigning champion there. I’m glad I at least held that before the company folded.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though, because we want to emphasize a period in your life that lead to the ’12 incident, which is after you had been shot, almost to death by a close friend and therapist at the time. What was going on in your mind then? Where as Alioth when the gunshot fired and the bullet lodged into your chest?”

“Wow, what a memory. Yeah, I remember that, but not very well. I was on my way to The Lost Coyote Grill, I believe it is. No longer there anymore, but I didn’t expect it to last too long. It’s a pet shop now, actually. Curious thing.” He went on to answer the question after a moment of pause to remember. He replied, “yeah, I remember just seeing his face. I think his name was Turner, but I have forgotten his first name. I don’t like to to look at those records, I also don’t get to the NLVH building too often. A lot of bad memories, I guess, but that comes with the territory of living so long.”

“His name was Daniel Turner. He was your therapist for a while, and then became a manager when you had gone through a traumatic period in your life. You were described as moot and almost like an automaton, but you still showed up to Galveston Island Texas and even defended the Undisputed Championship title all throughout the state you were in. That alone is worth mentioning as a wrestling legend’s achievement, if not a medical one.”

“Thanks, but I also don’t remember much of that. I remember seeing things, and hearing it, but those senses were sort of dulled to me, as if it were just part of some vague dream, but it was touch that really connected with my neural senses. Someone would touch me, be it in or outside the ring and I’d feel it, the connection with reality. I truly believe that in the end, my sense of touch is what brought me out. The feeling of his li–” Alioth had paused, his index and middle finger holding gently at his lips to stop them in thought, but he quickly shook it off and continued. “Anyway, right, so after the gunshot, I was lifted onto the gurney and rushed to the hospital. I don’t remember that part, but I assume it happened. I had seen images that people took with their mobile devices at the time. I was in a critical condition for a month, but eventually with the aid of the doctors in Houston, I was stabilized. I mostly remember the long, hard road of recovery. Not just healing at the wound, which fortunately had only been a cracked bone and damaged irrelevant muscle tissue, but it was still a pain to endure. At around that time I had been released from Galveston Island Texas due to the circumstance, even as far as to have been considered deceased by most. A grave was made and everything. I guess I just had no one to tell the world where I was and how I was. No one cared to know, if anyone did, I never knew.”

“So, after the gunshot, you spent several months in recovery at a hospital in Houston. Where does this lead into the ’12 incident? I know that you managed to exit the hospital during ’12, on the 10th of January. You had two options at that point, let’s go through those. What were they?”

“After I had recovered, I was given the option to either move to South Florida and join Auva Skye in her South Florida Wrestling Federation, or rejoin Galveston Island Wrestling, but most people don’t know that I had also received an offer from a federation called APW, which stands for Action Packed Wrestling.” Alioth added.

“Now what happened with APW? This is very interesting because there are no records of you competing there, so we can assume you didn’t take that offer, but you did eventually join South Florida Wrestling Federation after GIW closed down some odd years later. This was after the ’12 incident though, so tell me: What happened during this missing time period in your life? What lead you to the man you are now? The man that doesn’t look a day over twenty-four.”

“Well, what drove me to my decision was the gunshot. I had faced death and realized that I just couldn’t accept it, but it wasn’t a realization that came to me so quickly, you see. I had actually had that epiphany in my dealings with APW. They had an event called the ‘Survive and Conquer’ it’s a bit of a rumble where a numerous number of men and women compete in the ring for the opportunity for a cash reward and a few other terrific offerings. None of that mattered to me though, because the reward I sought came from inside.”

“What reward was that? Why did you take part in the APW ‘Survive and Conquer’ match, then?”

“I needed to prove to myself that I could get in the ring and put every trouble that I’ve had in my life, both past and then and overcome. It was about overcoming and triumph. I didn’t want the money, nor any other reward they had to offer, but just the ability to stand in that ring as the last surviving competitor and know that I had done it. To know that I could rise to the top despite the unsurmountable odds and still look out to the crowd and feel humbled by there embrace. It was a moment I needed and one that I knew was worth fighting over eighty other men, and women for.” Alioth explained, and the fire burned in his eyes as if he was still in that ring after the match had taken place. “I won’t say if I won or not, that’s on record to see, but just the feeling was all I wanted. The feeling of overcoming personal obstacles.”

“You had the epiphany during the match?”

“I did. I actually feel very close at heart with APW because of it. I know I didn’t really give much to them, and I wish that I had, but what that match and that organization did for me, in just moments had really changed my life. The ’12 incident actually happened after the event, a few days to be exact.”

“What was said?”

“I had a choice, right then and there, as I looked them – each – in the eyes. The choice was this: Eternal death, or life. We all know the permanency of death. There is no afterlife and no inherent God to hate you for living your life the best way you could. Death on its own is also an incredibly selfish thing for a person to succumb to.” Alioth stated.

“Death is selfish? How does this relate to your event at APW?”

“A lot, really. You see, if we can trace back in time for a moment. I refused to wrestle for any organization that wasn’t Galveston Island Wrestling and would turn down various offers, even from Auva Skye, whom had built Pacific Championship Wrestling from the ground up after its original owner neglected it. When the man had returned to suffocate what she had brought life into, she stopped by in Galveston, Texas to convince me to join her at her new South Florida Wrestling Federation. I was tempted, but only from a business standpoint, not a personal interest. I declined due to loyalty with Galveston Wrestling.”

“You didn’t stay loyal for long, considering you took part in the Survive and Conquer match within APW, which, as I understand it, involved a plethora of Galveston Island Wrestling talent. Not just yourself.”

“One person can only consider themselves in life. We’re all alone, in the end. We can’t share our minds, nor our bodies. We can have consideration and actions that devote to others, but it is also selfish of us to do so, even if it is socially progressive. They all did it because they wanted to win the match for themselves, not for Galveston Island Wrestling. I did it for Galveston Island Wrestling, to show the talent we had and that someone from our organization had the intense dedication that no other had.”

“All right, describe the events as you remember them which involved this match.”

“It was a mess. A very big, disorganized mess, but that was only the first portion of the match. It had boiled down to a numerical onslaught of active bodies all jostling in one ring to eliminate one another over the top rope. I entered at number twenty three and held on strong for a good while.” Alioth explained.

“Did you win?”

“You’ll have to watch the records for that one. It’s been over sixty years since, and my memory is that of a twenty-five year old. I can tell you that it was an intriguing match to take part in and I had, after it, had a conversation with the owner of the organization.”

“You broke your loyalty with Galveston Island Wresling?”

“I broke it when I had a match with a man that had been giving me snide comments backstage since he had debuted with the company. His name was Johnny Scar, and we had a tag match in a different independent organization before he left for the Japanese circuit. He had since returned and aligned himself with Altair, but you might know him as Christian Woods. Johnny Scar, of course was John Winters. You may also know him as Doctor, because of his precision cuts with a blade.”

“It’s hard not to recognize his name, considering Americas infatuation with serial killers. He was on the cover of nearly every magazine and it had even reached Galveston, making the organization you worked for a little more famous, didn’t it?”

“Unfortunately. One shot and the world gets smaller, but we’ve digressed.” Alioth added, “yes, I signed with APW after the match, and stuck with them and Galveston Island Wrestling for a while, but ultimately made a choice between the two. Then made a choice to quit one of them and go to South Florida with Auva Skye.”

“Man, we’ll have to talk again. I’ve run out of time on the interview, but I’d love to have another sit down with you, if you’d like?” The interviewer got up and checked his digital recording device to find it had completely filled in space.

“I would like that, mate. Cheers.” Alioth shook his hand and departed shortly after the other individual.

Alioth later trekked idly through the small portion of central park that was left in New York. It was a short walk for him to get toward his apartment complex a few blocks away from Ground 1. It wasn’t exactly the most sightly of locations, the place where TimeSquare once glistened in the night, but Alioth didn’t care. His apartment didn’t view the sight, but the park that he had just stepped into.

Above, the sky became spotted with the underside of vehicles and boards that traversed past, as well as the lights on the moon. Funny, he thought, to think it could finally happen. The future, that is, but of course, everyone was living in the present and he was the only one that thought otherwise.

His apartment was small and white. The walls almost sterile in the hallway, but slowly it became apparent that Alioth had begun to decorate in a most peculiar way. Phrases, words, poems, lyrics, and various things were etched in paint, marker, blood, or otherwise all along the walls of his apartment the moment you would step into the living room. He had made it his own, and may as well own the entire building if he desired, but he didn’t.

Alioth slipped on a bit of tea, though knew how much it would cost to buy more. It didn’t bother him anymore as he never put much value to money, only knowledge and his reach in the world, intellectual and social. A reach he had begun just over sixty years prior when he rejoined Galveston Island Wrestling, and then APW.

His bedroom was pure black. No other color was allowed in it. The reason were the faint glistening lights that acted like a miniature cosmos within his own bedroom to lay under, or use as ambient lighting.

On the bed, eager to lay back and relax, he found the laptop hit his elbow when he stretched his arms out. He stopped for a moment as a memory hit him and he had an idea. He turned on the thin, Google based laptop and stretched the monitor away from the keyboard to activate it. Immediately the wallpaper transitions in soft hues, nothing futuristic, just what he liked to see. He clicked through a few files until reaching a section he titled ‘cinema’ and then simply highlighted all of the videos and clicked play. As they popped up on the screen, he connected a small black, led wire to the slit on the side of the computer to make the video project on the wall, forcing the lights around it to dim for him to see better.

The first video was a promotional segment he had done for APW’s Survive and Conquer match.

It started with Alioth before a white screen, his logo in faded black along the center. He stood alone, as he did in most of life and began the segment to promote the large match he was determined to win.

“In the end, I became them and I lead them. My blood coursed as theirs and as theirs it ran along pavement and gold. I never quite thought of myself as human, but when you’ve come face to face with your own humanity that waits within the core of everyone, you begin to realize how small you are in this world, and how small this world is in the solar system; the solar system in the galaxy; the galaxy in the universe; and the universe in the multiverse. It’s fascinating really, to think that we don’t matter, that our lives are as insignificant as that of a microscopic black hole that blinks out of existence as fast as did came to being.” He said, and his tone of voice seemed somber at first, but then it began to build as passion took the wheel. “However, the multiverse tells us otherwise. In one, I might be dead, but in this I’m not. In one, I might be in APW, and the battle is taking place in Galveston grounds, but in this it isn’t. I’m proud to have had my experiences within Galveston Island Wrestling, but I’m ready to finally branch out and feel this thing called the human experience, and drive it like a suicide bomber into the multiverse with no regrets and no second guesses. The first step for Alioth Starre’s expansion; or big bang, if you will, is to take foot in APW and defeat over 70 plus competitors! The stipulations are wild and the rewards great, but it’s not the money I want, nor is it a title, but the chance to finally be there standing as the last man to have survived and conquered something greater than himself. What I aim to do is to be that spec and tell the universe with a bold declaration that I’m taking control and what I do matters, and what I do counts! To change the world, you need to change yourself and you need to let passion take the wheel.”

He took a moment’s pause and continued.

“So, when I step in that foreign ring, within the arms of those I know not, I will look to the sky and see no God, but possibilities for something greater. There is no barrier that can’t be broken, no brick wall that can’t tumble without cultural impact. There are no risks without action and no actions without risk. I’ll put my body and my career on the line one more time to prove that I am the better man, not because I think that I am, but because I know I can be and I know that someone needs to be. Someone, anyone, preferably myself needs to be the one to stand up and lead a nation to change, to lead a world. I don’t follow the leader, I am the leader. I don’t have followers, I have thousands of artists willing to break the mould and become something of themselves and my message coming into the match for everyone involved is to be what you need to be to be there and be on top. It’s not your organization you need to do proud, but yourself and everyone watching. Survive and conquer so that everyone watching you will know that they too can do the same thing. That they too can rise up and defeat all of the problems that burden them and ascend to a greater sense of self awareness within this, our human experience. Some people will step on you on their way up, and some people will step on you on their way down. I step on you to make you step on me and rise higher and higher than even I, but that only challenges me to go just as higher and better than you. That sense of competition should be what everyone going into this amazing match needs to feel. Do it, not for the money, but to prove yourselves as I will and had in Galveston Island Wrestling. I was the longest reigning champion in GIW history and now I plan to make APW history and win the Survive and Conquer match for myself, for Galveston Island Wrestling, for APW, and for all of you that think you can’t win, or can’t rise up. You can and will.”

He paused, but only in thought.

“Alioth Starre is a champion of the people, but even though I say that, I know deep inside that it brings me personal joy to accomplish so many great tasks, such as this. There’s a selfish joy in all of us that should be explored and felt, and I have and will again. Imagine the feeling being the longest reigning, top champion of your organization? Now imagine the feeling of competing against 70 plus wrestlers and defeating each and every one of them to be labeled the last one to survive and conquer them all. To know you are the best, well, I am the best of the best and the best at what I do. The best I can do will be on display come Survive and Conquer, and I will win. I will win, not out of some arrogant notion that I think I’m better than everyone, but out of the notion that I”ll push myself harder because I know others are pushing themselves just as hard. I will win because I will not accept defeat and I will overcome this feat. The greatest wrestler in Galveston Island Wrestling history is now in the hands of APW’s biggest historic moment of the year and I, as sure as fake hell am not passing up the opportunity to prove that I can still be the best.”

Ready to wrap the segment, Alioth gave one last message to the camera during the promotional package. The final one, he hoped, would show his determination, but it wasn’t a video that people would see, he knew, that would show his determination to win the bout, but his actions in the ring that would show that he really and truly was going to survive and conquer.

“I’ve come a long way to prove myself to myself and to all of you. I do this to do what seems impossible. These odds are as varied as the multiverse itself, but there’s one thing I know that keeps the passion – the fire – inside of me growing and burning stronger than ever as I walk into Survive and Conquer! That’s the fact that throughout an infinite number of possibilities in a multiverse, there’s always going to be at least one where I have succeeded all of the odds. When you realize the possibilities then that makes me realize that I want this life, and this universe to achieve every single one of them. If I know I can, then I will. I know I can survive and I know I can conquer, and I know that in APW there’s a golden chance to put two and two together and do what very little have before. So, in the end I became them and I lead them. After all, none of us really qualified as human. We’re expected to achieve greater than just human. I’ll see my various opponents then, and I can’t wait to step on you on my way, and I can’t wait to guide you up on my way down!”

With that, the video ended and Alioth closed his laptop. He laid back in the bed, deep in thought and memories of a time long gone. He thought of the match and its outcome and how it had changed who he was forever. No matter what, he did survive and conquer. After all he was as driven as the stars.

[Jonny Cedrone]

**--The scene opens up with Cindy Shannon standing in front of the camera with mic in hand.--**

“Ladies and gentlemen, on the night that 86 people are getting ready go through hell to reach the same goal, to reach the same prize $500,000 in cold hard cash, the 2012 Survive and Conquer trophy and the ability to go back to your company and brag about taking on over 80 people and surviving. That is amazing in itself, but tonight there are competitors participating in this devastating match who have wrestled on other shows real close to the show. One in particular is the man I’m standing near today. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you, representing the Viking Wrestling Federation in the Survive and Conquer match, the VWF World Heavyweight and half of the VWF Tag Team Champions, the self-proclaimed ‘King of Sexy’ Jonny Cedrone!”

**--The fans in attendance is heard through the walls with a thunderous roar of cheers as the camera pans out to show Cedrone and his wife, Gloria, in the same picture frame as Cindy, smiling.--**

“Welcome to Action Packed Wrestling, Mr. Cedrone.”

“Thank you very much, it’s both an honor and a privilege to have the opportunity to be here sweetheart, but please, do me a favor and just call me Jonny.”

“Okay, Jonny, with the VWF World Championship proudly sitting on your right shoulder and the VWF Tag Team Championship on Gloria’s shoulder, it’s no secret that you’re a well decorated VWF Luminary. You’re a former VWF Intercontinental Champion, VWF Eurocontinental Champion, VWF Britannia Heavyweight Champion, VWF United States Champion, reigning one half of the VWF Tag Team Champions, three time and reigning VWF World Heavyweight Champion, newest crowned VWF Triple Crown and Grand Slam Champion with you and your partner, Scott DiBiase winning the Tag Team Championships and are a part of the newest Class of Inductees into the VWF Hall of Fame.”

“Wow, you’ve done your homework haven’t you?”

“I do my best.”

“But you’re right, I’ve done all that and I’ve represented the Viking Wrestling Federation on numerous occasions for the Experts, the CWC and the EFK and have been spokesman for the Company on many, many, many press conferences across not only the nation but around the world.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Exhausted, but each and every morning I wake up and I see this beautiful face lying next to me, and I realize that I do what I love and love what I do for a living, and I represent one of, if not THE greatest Company in professional wrestling, the Viking Wrestling Federa…oops! No offense to Action Packed Wrestling of course! From everything I’ve heard and seen from Action Packed Wrestling in all the wrestling events I’ve been in during my time with the Viking Wrestling Federation, Action Packed Wrestling is also one of the greatest!”

“Trying to back pedal huh?”

“Is it working?”

“It was a good try, I for one don’t hold anything against you for having pride in your Company, you do what you have to do. And speaking of which, the Viking Wrestling Federation’s first pay-per-view of the year 2012 just occurred two weeks ago, The End. And on that very pay-per-view you were involved in the Main Event, defending your VWF World Heavyweight Championship against the number one contender, the VWF King of the Ring, Johnny Aggression. From the reports, the pictures, from the fans talking on forums and bloggers blogging, and from watching a little bit of it myself, the match was not an easy match by any stretch of the imagination. Do you honestly think, in your heart of hearts, that you can go into this event, take on 85 other wrestlers from all around the Globe and come out victorious after just two weeks’ rest from such a hard fought, hellacious battle you fought against Johnny Aggression?”

**--Cheers--**

“First of all, if Johnny’s out there watching right now, which I’m sure he is, I just wanted to thank him for such a great match! I couldn’t expect a better match out of him or anyone else for that matter. He gave me all he had and then some and we truly did go back and forth in that ring. In my point of view, even if there isn’t anything at stake, you wrestle your heart out and give all that you can give as if there IS something at stake, but when there is something up for grabs, you know, no matter how great of a match you put on without anything, you always step up your game. Now, as hard as the guys in the Viking Wrestling Federation work, it’s hard to believe that there’s a step above what we do day in and day out, but we always seem to outdo ourselves the next night. Johnny Aggression and I are no exception to that rule. Johnny Aggression is one of the hardest workers out there and he gave 110%, we threw everything we could at each other, everything but the kitchen sink, and we kept coming back asking for more. Unfortunately for him, I was able to capitalize on a mistake and got the win and got to keep the Championship.”

**--Cheers--**

“But that was two weeks ago, let’s talk about what’s going on tonight. Action Packed Wrestling presents the 2012 Survive and Conquer. 86 people enter, only one person survives! Now as true as it may be that I’m coming off only two weeks worth of rest, and a lot of people have been blowing up my phone, my email inbox is packed to he hilt, my facebook is catching so many comments and private messages that I had to open another account and now THAT’S full and they’re all asking me the same thing…‘Are you nuts?! You just fought a match so brutal that it makes a car wreck look like a walk through the daisies and you’re subjecting yourself into a match like this?! You GOT to be nuts!’ The truth is, I may be. I don’t know. But the point of the matter is this…the call of duty called my name and I answered! The Viking Wrestling Federation needed at least one person to jump into the fire, so why not the World Champion?! I’ve been in the business for seven years and in the Viking Wrestling Federation for almost five, I have come up against, went toe-to-toe with adversity and each time I came out on the other side with my hand held high in victory.”

“From the very beginning of my career, I was told that I’d never make anything of myself. Now look at me.”

**--Cheers--**

“Once I signed my contract for the Viking Wrestling Federation, people told me that I’d never make it. Now look at me.”

**--Cheers--**

“A few years ago, I went face to face, toe to toe against the longest reigning VWF World Champion EVER and after being his victim on multiple occasions, I fought through all that adversity and became the VWF World Heavyweight Champion!”

**--Cheers--**

“After losing the Title to my Tag Team partner and best friend, Scott DiBiase, and after suffering a career threatening neck injury at the hands of Dan Ryan, I fought through the pain and after my road to recovery was complete, I made a resounding comeback and at the VWF King of the Ring I fought through all that adversity and faced Dan Ryan in a return match and won back my World Championship!”

**--Cheers--**

“And just a couple weeks ago, Johnny Aggression went around and around and put on one of the greatest matches the Wrestling World has every seen. We fought like two hungry lions over a carcass, and each time Johnny had me up against the ropes, I fought through the adversity and ultimately came out the winner.”

**--Cheers--**

“Sure I might be sporting the battle scars from that war we raged just two weeks ago. My body may be battered, bruised, and I’m sure I might have a few busted organs on the inside, but in case you haven’t noticed, the subject of this promo is ‘adversity.’ In this business, in the sport of professional wrestling, we’re almost expected to overcome adversity on a daily basis, whether it be personally inflicted adversity or an outside challenge, we’re all expected to over adversity all the time. This situation is no different. If anything Survive and Conquer exemplifies the word ‘adversity.’ You have 86 superb athletes from all over the world and they’re all colliding in the middle of the ring for the same goal, $500,000, the trophy and bragging rights for a year. If that isn’t high stakes, I don’t know what is. Action Packed Wrestling is the perfect place to host such an event because one thing’s for sure, this thing will definitely be packed with action. The tagline for this…well the name of the match really…is Survive and Conquer, but what the true core meaning of this match is ‘adversity.’ If you can overcome adversity, you can survive anything and that’s why I think I can win this match.”

“Okay, Gloria, how do you think your husband will fare in this match?”

“Jonny has overcome so many obstacles in his life and wrestling career, so I have no doubt whatsoever that he can come out on top of this and win the whole thing and bring home the money and the trophy, Cindy!”

**--She says with a big smile--**

“One last question, I promise. If you are able to win it all, what will you do with the money?”

“Donate it to charity.”

“I noble Champion, I like it! Thank you two very much for your time and good luck out there tonight Jonny!”

**--Cedrone and Gloria both thank her then look into the camera as the scene fades to black--**

[slash]

// The Rise //

“I’m at the top of the world right now,” I sang to myself, strumming my guitar to a slow, country-styled melody, “I’ve seen a long line of people waiting with their smiles… What can I do since they’re all but around… Let me tell how all of this went down…”

On a breezy morning I sat alone in my hotel room in Oklahoma City, lounging on the floor where my back was supported by the perimeter of the bed. Looking out toward the window, my eyes held a captivating view of the sun beginning to rise from the east as it slowly crept above the Chesapeake Energy Arena -- a venue that will forever be like no other so long as I lived.

Less than nine hours before, having entered only my fourth match with World Elite Wrestling, I had just witnessed a juxtapose in my career that many have dreamed of while only a few have truly experienced. I won my very first world championship, no less a title belt in-general. And fittingly, the victory also entailed what I have heard for a while but never observed; the burdening nature of being shone the spotlight – with or without my accordance – was a task that I held no proficiency throughout my entire life. The task of having to be responsible for not only my bodily harm but also having to somehow measure my actions and their own possible reactions was an aspect I did not have any intentions of, no less having to envy, accepting such monumental and mature duty.

Nevertheless, not even a full day after earning what I rightfully claimed, the sensation and adrenaline of the previous night continued to reverberate throughout my entire self, both physically and mentally. Emotionally, a whirlwind of sentimental thoughts swooped into my subconscious as bouts of laughter, joy, and relief all came with tears. I felt high. Of course, ‘high’ was a polarizing topic when it pertained to me and my past.

I continued to rhythmically play on my six-stringed instrument. “I climbed so tall but now I’m low… Told myself while back down below… Ain’t nobody gunnin’ for me now… Since everythin’ gone the dreams are around…”

2006 was a year that I wished I could forget; that spring, my grandfather died from a gunshot wound to the head at a mall nearby his house in Oakland after three idiot thugs robbed and killed him because Grandpa Joe’s wallet contained nothing but his ID, social security card, and a few bucks of change after buying me a present, a Gibson Hummingbird, for my seventeenth birthday.[/I] (In fact, it was the same Gibson Hummingbird that I plucked throughout the entire night after winning the first championship belt of my career.) Then, in the following months afterward, my girlfriend for three years, whom I had known since the second grade, decided that we should end our relationship for us to “see any possibilities out there.” And, weeks afterward in the middle of August, my older brother, Robert, died of a drug overdose after consuming a lethal concoction of heroin and cocaine, otherwise known as a ‘speedball.’ By the time I entered my final year at Menlo-Atherton High, the tumultuous years of me coming into my own was capped off with my arrest from a state-wide drug bust.

“The darken days and the sunny nights,” I hummed, my tone matching the slow-paced sunrise on the eve of the daybreak, “The mountain lows and the valley highs… Have got me runnin out to hide… I spread my wings and I wanna go high, and fly…”

See, throughout the latter half of my teen years, most of my time was not spent in the classroom or doing odd-jobs like delivering the papers or working part-time at a local restaurant. Rather, I was preoccupied supplying marijuana to people in all ages, no matter their creed or color, throughout the northern portion of California. Also, it would become a bi-monthly routine for me and my connections to cross state lines, pushing cannabis into southern Oregon, western Nevada, and even so far as going down to Fresno, Los Angeles, and San Diego; our business was booming. The cash flow was so enormous, what I earned with my cut in one week was more than enough to double what most of my peers made throughout a season. But on that one Saturday afternoon, I never had seen so many police officers in one area like I had on that day. A month later, I was sentenced to five years in prison for the fact that, while it was my first major offensive run-in with the law, felony counts of distribution and trafficking made sure that I’d spend half of a decade in San Quentin State Prison.

“And I’m comin’ out of that shell,” I sang, “I’m walkin’ out to the tune of the bells… I can’t deny the fight that I’m feelin’… But the urge inside of me has died and I can’t it goin’…”

In late September of 2010, almost four years to the day of my incarceration, I met with the members of the parole board and was successfully granted an early release so long as I followed a set of stipulations and lived by a number of regulating rules in the ensuing year. Basically, while I was physically free from the prison walls just miles away from home, my life continued to be legally bound by the state of California until October of 2011, which was when I would actually become a free man. But, with a double felony count in my record, earning a job was horrible as it might have ever came. Thankfully, I thought of this during my jail time and created avenues of avoiding such impasse. This is where my life and wrestling intersected each other for better and for worse.

“When it all seems like they’re lost,” I began to yell, singing to a crescendo, “Everythin’ comes so clear! And when I know that the end is near, I’m gonna face all of my fears! Tonight…”

I then ended my song, chuckling of the thought that I might have woken the neighboring rooms. Regardless, this emotional roller coaster that I had ridden since the inception of my career has been a speechless one at that. While the highs were definitely at the top, it seemed as if the lows could not be any farther than they actually were at that point; it was as if those lines were blurred, in fact, because I was on a steady pace that made me feel pleased about anything and everything associated with me and my career. Nothing could have brought me down…

Or so I thought…[/SIZE]

// The Fall //

On a chilly, breezy Christmas morning, I sat in the back of a taxi alongside Eliza Gray, a friend and fellow champion in the federation that employed the both of us. As the cab was strolling through the empty streets of San Francisco, making its way toward my apartment, Eliza and I had just departed from the county jail.

Roughly twelve hours earlier, I was alone inside of my flat after returning from a dinner with my fellow friends – Lenny, my mentor and trainer; Nikki, a childhood friend and my former girlfriend; Ricky, my pal from high school – as a way to celebrate the eve of a major holiday. Following the festive supper with three of my closest pals, I decided to sulk myself with glasses of brandy while sitting alone in my living room. Halfway into my session of self-loathing, Ricky called me on my cell phone.

“I just got my bike,” he said ecstatically, speaking of the used sports motorcycle he purchased just hours before our conversation over the phone.

Moments later, Ricky and I were in the alleyway outside of my apartment as we began to monitor his recent purchase in awe. After watching him goof around by popping wheelies and other stunts with his motorized bike out on the nearby street, I then joined him in standard male social fashion, straddling my own dirt bike as we spent the ensuing minutes littering the boulevard with clouds of smoke and the aroma of burning rubber.

The fun, however, came to a halt as we then were approached by a pair of policemen during their patrol.

“I can’t believe you got yourself into trouble,” Eliza grumbled, “On Christmas morning, of all the days, too. You’re lucky I happened to be down in San Jose for that party.”

Eliza came into the Bay Area to meet with some of our colleagues, most of whom were attending a party thrown on behalf of the federation, its success, and their employees enjoy the holidays with each other. Thankfully, she managed to hitch a ride forty-miles north of the company’s head office and get me out of confinement after matching the posted bail amount of a thousand dollars.

“But, it’s alright,” she sighed, “It was boring, anyways.”

Eliza, dressed in black knee-high boots, dark blue jeans, a white blouse worn underneath a black leather jacket and her hair resting on her shoulders, relaxed on her head on her fist where she was using her elbow as a branching structure that was leaning against the door for support. Meanwhile, wearing black denim trousers, a pair of black books, a black Norfolk jacket worn over a white long-sleeved thermal shirt while my hair was tied into a ponytail, I sat quietly before I apologized to her, looking down at the dirty floor mat lying underneath my feet.

“I’ll pay you back, I promise,” I somberly pleaded as I had just spent a sleepless night inside of a cubicle made of painted cinder blocks guarded by a steel door. Unfortunately, my friend did not respond to my gesture.

On cue, the cabbie then slowly parked in front of my apartment that lied in the Haight-Ashbury district where I made my way out of the vehicle, thanking Eliza, before I overheard her telling the driver to idle his mustard-colored car.

“Johnny, wait,” she approached me, calling my name that seemingly echoed throughout the hollow, inaudible roadway, “Look, I care for you. I care a lot about you, I really do. But, you gotta get your head out of the water and start learning how to swim before you drown.

“Basically, what I’m trying to say is,” Eliza paused, “Stop getting yourself into trouble; this isn’t your first time getting arrested and, if you don’t start to change some things in your life, you’re probably gonna get thrown in jail, again. So please, just do me a favor and lay low for a while, OK?”

I slowly nodded my head in agreement. “Look, Liz, I’m sorr–”

Suddenly, Eliza cut me off as she placed her finger on my lips and shook her head from left to right. Then, after a hug she kissed me on the cheek and suggested I catch up on the missed hours of sleep before watching her step back into the taxi and being driven away.

“Damn it,” I sighed, heading into my apartment, creeping my way inside and tossing my body onto my bed where I lied on my back and aimlessly stared at the ceiling.

“Johnny Boy, you fucked up again,” my subconscious grumbled. “Getting arrested on Christmas morning? Just what the hell were you thinking? And then, to be put in jail while having the position I earned with WEW; a world champion getting arrested over the holidays? Fantastic…”

Indeed, I was not helping my image since this was not the first time I had an encounter with the law, just as Eliza had pointed out to me. In fact, from winter of 2010 to the summer of this previous year, I trained hard; Lenny Slash, the former instructor of my deceased older brother, persuaded and protested me into carrying the torch of my departed sibling. Then, ensuing a ten-month period of training me from a novice fan to an eager protégé, I finally made my career debut in Benjamin Jameson’s Empire Wrestling federation where I worked my way up to my first title match, contesting for the company’s world championship belt. I lost that match, unfortunately. But it was the night afterward that would have me lose more than just a fight; This past August I was arrested in my hotel, which of course led to embarrassing pictures of me being escorted out of the lodge in front of dozens of patrons and vacationers. The reasoning for the arrest was because I had apparently not followed the restricting guidelines of my parole.

Initially, while I wasn’t supposed to travel outside of California, my father had apparently made a deal with George Hadley, the presiding judge in my case and the very person who sent me to jail yet officially granted me a quick release out of my incarceration. The deal was that I could receive a pardon so long as my father, a wealthy multimillionaire who doubled as the Founder and CEO of Caldwell Industries, endorsed the political campaign of Thomas Hadley, the younger sibling of my judge. Ill-advisedly my father balked after finding out that Thomas would most likely have an unsuccessful crusade in promoting his seat in California’s senate. Moreover, this prompted Judge Hadley to revoke my pardon and thus leaving me in quite a quandary once he found out that I was traveling my way down to Dallas, Texas. Soon, I was arrested and served the rest of my parole back in jail for the next two months. But after I was released, I found myself with a new opportunity; I joined a new wrestling company, I quickly worked my way up the proverbial ladder and became world champion. But after an arrest on Christmas morning, I didn’t end 2011 on a good note.

Things had to get better… right?

// The Resurrection //

In the middle of January, just days after New Year’s, my employer held an event in Las Vegas. Me being me, I arrived there early; I was a meticulous person who did not like any feeling of discontent, especially even if I was on vacation because I wasn’t even on the card. No less, I still made my appearances, participated in a wrestling clinic just outside the Strip, and then relaxed my entire time in Sin City. Then, on Friday the Thirteenth, I got arrested again.

On a warm, partially sunny day in Nevada, I sat outside near the swimming pool of the Palms Casino Resort in Las Vegas. Dressed in white denim shorts and a pair of white flip-flops, my hair was tied into a ponytail and my eyes were covered by black-tinted sunglasses as I relaxed shirtless on a lounge chair with a few of my friends while smoking a cigarette. Among my pals who were with me to enjoy the free time of our lives was a fellow employee of WEW – Jenna, or better known as Jenna Sky to her fans.

As we lounged poolside, I overheard a pair of college kids across the makeshift pond hooting and hollering, yelling disparaging remarks to our direction. Yet, as if things couldn’t have gotten worse, the young men soon approached us and continued their yapping. But, after one of the idiots called Jenna a “whore” and a “bitch,” things escalated to another level. Before I knew it, I was placed in handcuffs after having mauled both kids in a raging fit; the first guy who talked was on the ground, holding the back of his head after I shoved him to the cement floor, while I tossed his friend into the shallow end of the pool. Then, without even thinking, I leaped into the four-foot-tall end of the pool and jumped onto the guy’s back before whaling on him like a punching bag as I began to see the aqua blue water around the young man fade into a burnt, orangey shade of red.

I made a call to a friend, Brenda, who was also the wife of my boss. After an expletive-laden tirade, she delivered me to a hotel on the main avenue of Vegas where she sternly warned me of any further wrongdoing. And although this wasn’t the first time that she set me aside and advised me that I should “shape up or else you’ll be shipped off.”

Those words echoed into my subconscious as it felt like my lungs were shut and my stomach emptier than ever. It was now or never. It was all or nothing.

Coming off the heels of a successful title defense, I knew that my road to redeeming any certainty from my peers within the industry was going to be rough one at that. Nevertheless, keeping the title after defeating a WWE-reject wasn’t the most ideal plan I had in mind when wanting to receive any positive grace from fellow coworkers. I mean, before that, I was coming off of a double-count-out against a title holder and a loss against one of the top tier performers in the company yet I gained a victory against a wannabe thug? I knew I had to do more to show my worth to the organization that paid me; I knew that a mediocre title defense was only the beginning of my revival. So, of course, what better way than to prove it against other wrestlers outside of my comfort zone?

Back on the evening after New Year’s, WEW sent out a company-wide memo that notified us of a match that looked to be the perfect platform for me to resurrect any lost glory; Action Packed Wrestling was holding a colossal battle royal at the end of month where the winner would be given a cash prize of five-hundred thousand dollars and the right to brag about overcoming eighty-five other competitors in a massive mayhem.

The weeks heading into this humongous bout wasn’t easy; I didn’t care that I would arrive the match as the fifty-fourth entrant; I didn’t care that thirteen other people from the federation I worked would be in the match. And no, this wasn’t about my arrogance shedding any light of me being confident to win, or anything else similar to that matter. It was what it was; whether I was the first or the last person to enter the match, I was gonna do my best no matter what. Also, the fact that my boss’ federation was well-represented was such a plus that some though I might as well just eliminate myself. I had no extra tangible incentive to gain. But my peers did.

So long as an individual in WEW ended up being one of the last twenty participants in the multi-competitor melee, he or she would receive a title shot pending on where they were eliminated after the fact. These enticing factors, however, wasn’t much of a motivator for me; I already held a title with my name engraved on it; this match was more personal than just. I had a bone to pick amongst those who have doubted me, trying to ostracize me out of the company; they made it known on social media websites, such as Twitter, that I was no good to represent the federation, that I just didn’t have what it took to hold the organization’s top championship belt. If anything, I took that as their way of saying that I didn’t fit their mold of normalcy. This was something that I made sure people knew of me as I headed into this major onslaught down in Miami’s APW event.

On a cold, partially cloudy morning in Massachusetts, within one of the many spacious rooms of the TD Garden in Boston was a designated area where almost four dozen reporters sat on their chairs with their particular devices in hand and questions in mind. I, dressed in blue jeans, white sneakers, and a black v-neck t-shirt worn underneath a black blazer with my dark brown hair tied into a ponytail, sat on the lone chair behind a table draped over large blue sheet as I laid my world title belt face up on top of the table, separating me and half dozen microphones bundled near the edge of the surface.

Looking into the audience of reporters, of course I was nervous. One male reporter asked about my chances in the APW battle royal because of its enormity. “Man, I’ve been saying this all along; it is what is… I mean, to be honest, there are three types of wrestlers heading into that match; you got people vying for half-a-million dollars, you got some people representing some company or somebody, and then you got folks like me; someone who is trying to prove something.”

The man then asked me to elaborate, wanting to me to explain what I’m trying to demonstrate, in which I told him, “That I’m a decent wrestler no matter how unconventional I may seem… Ever since I can think back to my very first memory, I was never average kid in school or to this very day a regular and rudimentary wrestler… And so what if I don’t wear trunks, elbow pads, and wrist tape, walking into the ring with an everyday rock song? That’s not my thing; I wouldn’t have fun doing all of that as a wrestler… I wear cargo pants, tank tops, colored armbands, and face-paint in the ring; when I come out of the curtains, I dance to Daft Punk because all of that is fun for me.”

I hated the negativity generated by those around me, talking of me as if I didn’t deserve anything that I had achieved after signing with World Elite Wrestling, as if I was not eligible to be anywhere near anyone’s version of the Parthenon.

Afterward, the man thanked me until another guy, short, balding, and wearing glasses, asked why I did my best to be different, as if I purposely made it a point, which I agreed to an extent. “I’m different not because of the sake of being different; I don’t do something just so that I stand out and then get attention for it -- sorry but I’m no Lady Gaga of professional wrestling… It’s just that I happen to be different because of my personal tastes; the things I say and how I go about doing the things I do just doesn’t align with whatever-the-hell people like to call ‘normal;’ that is why I’m different and that is why I borderline-preach the things I tweet on Twitter--”

Suddenly, I was interrupted by another gentleman sitting in the front row. “Speaking of Twitter… You have been ranting through your tweets, as of late… Who are you referring to when you say that people make you out to be – and I quote – ‘conventional’ while being ‘always-doubted’ and ‘never-touted?’ Who are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all of you,” I snapped, “All of you fuckers giving this notion that I’m not good enough, that I gotta feed this shit to you so that you all can say that I’m a decent wrestler. Hell, I got me a world title; ain’t that enough? But no… Apparently not…”

“That language is uncalled for,” the columnist whined, “I’m just--“

“Doing your job?” I interjected. “So your job is to write up scathing remarks, saying that I don’t deserve shit because I’m not your prototypical talent? Yeah, whatever… I’m done.”

Soon I ended the conference, storming off the stage with my title as my eyes burned with anger. No more was I going to be consumed by their fodder, their worthless chitter chatter… Come January 29, I was going to prove to everyone to shut their mouths and watch me be me; watch me perform and do what I do to gain the least bit of respect by surviving on conquering in South Florida.

// The End? //

[/FONT]

Word count: 3,996 (according to Microsoft Word)
OOC: Awesome concept of a match. I’m glad to be in it

[Kris]

January 22nd, 2012
…somewhere.

Water runs from the industry-standard steel faucet into the industry-standard white porcelain sink, the sight as run-of-the-mill and ordinary as one can get in the confines of dorm-style living. The vivid neon pink that suddenly floods into the basin fades quickly enough, but the faintest stain that it leaves behind will never quite come out, permanently marking it as something different, unique. Such is the way that life itself works, throwing someone through experience after experience, with each leaving its own faint mark that might not always be blatantly obvious… but will eternally linger. Those stains are what define the human condition, the things that cling to someone's being like that layer of soap scum that no amount of scrubbing seemingly ever budges. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, they hold fast, refusing to let go regardless of if it means salvation or damnation.

Such is the story of Jana Alyssa Smith, the woman now known as Alyssa Casteele.

-------------------------∞-------------------------

October 29th, 2008
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

--and stay out!

For a single surreal moment, the pink-haired girl feels like she's flying… and then she comes crashing back down to Earth, the impact driving all of the air out of her lungs as she lands on the sidewalk in a tangle of limbs and bondage straps. Her beat-up black duffel that had once hauled around her gymnastic gear when she was a kid lands beside her, no care paid to its contents-- not that it surprises her. People don't usually give a damn about how they treat what they view as garbage… and after the fight she's just had with the people that brought her into the world before doing their damndest to force her into a mold that she rejected with every fiber of her being?

In their eyes, she definitely qualifies.

Startling when the door slams shut behind her, the motion awakens all sorts of small and subtle aches and pains that have her wincing as she pushes herself up off of the ground, her legs gathering beneath herself so that she's crouching on the sidewalk instead of being sprawled out upon it. Dimly, she feels blood trickling down from the left corner of her mouth. When she swipes it off with the back of one bracelet-festooned arm, she swears that it spreads to the skin beneath… even though there's nothing there when she finally makes it to the local Circle K bathroom to wash up.

That night, the seventeen-year-old girl sleeps in a homeless shelter for the first time, curled around her duffel bag like it's the only friend she has left in the world.

-------------------------∞-------------------------

August 17th, 2009
Durham, North Carolina

H-Hello, miss?

The thick Southern accent that muddles the words of the other teenaged girl speaking is something that Jana's only gradually getting accustomed to-- much less always being addressed in such a formal way. Glancing up from where she's settled in against an exterior brick wall, the pink-haired girl finds herself looking at a well-dressed blond with wildly curly hair and a warm smile, as warm as the weather had been without the muggy, uncomfortable stickiness. After a moment, she realizes she's staring… so after awkwardly clearing her throat, she replied.

Yeah? …oh.

A pause; she groans as she realizes just how dark it's getting. It takes all of her self-control to not start cursing at the stupid anti-loitering laws that the city had. Gathering her legs beneath herself, the pink-haired girl stands.

Sorry, I'll get a move on--

The blond frantically shakes her head, holding a hand up to stop the pink-haired girl from walking away.

Now hold on a moment there, sugah. I'm not out here to chase you off.

Now that surprises Jana, one of her brows arching.

…oh?

Well, yeah. I couldn't talk my mom into letting you come home with us, but I did get Mister Morgan to give me this for you.

The Southern Belle holds out her hand; within it? A ticket to the North Carolina Wrestling show that's going on inside of the building that they are standing in front of. Blinking a bit, the pink-haired girl takes it, looking down at it… before she figures out just what the blond is up to. A reason to be on the premises, inside and out of the night without having to go to a shelter? She'll take that any day of the week.

Thanks. That's cool of you.

The blond chuckles softly.

I try. Now c'mon-- the first bout's about to start. And let me tell you, you don't want to miss it.

What's your name, anyway?

That's a question that the pink-haired girl hasn’t been faced with-- not since she'd hit the road a year ago. Her name… it's something that her parents could use to track her down someday, not that they'd ever want to. Still, though, she has to use something… so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

…Alyssa. Alyssa Casteele.

Nice to meet you. I'm Natalie-- oh Bless, that's Jaden's entrance music! We better hurry!

And, with that, Natalie snags the other girl's hand and hauls her inside, the duo finding their seats right next to the railing at ringside. Amidst the flashing lights and chants, the cheers and jeers in the hours that follow… the pink-haired girl finds something that, finally, she can hold onto and make her own. Someday?

She'll be the one walking down that ramp, soaking in the cheers.

-------------------------∞-------------------------

May 9th, 2010
Miami, Florida

Hey 'Lyss, you comin'?[/color]

Just a sec, Vic! Jesus...

The young man with blue hair and a ring through his lip can't help but chuckle to himself at the sound of muffled cursing and rustling that always preceded his girlfriend's departure from the hurricane-level disaster that was their bedroom. A final thud and she emerges, atomically bright pink hair pulled up into a ponytail. Dressed in simple black work-out gear that's not all that different from what he's wearing, she lightly socks him in the shoulder with her left hand before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

See? You didn't have to wait that long after all.

Yeah yeah yeah… now let's get a move on. Ol' Grumbleass won't let us hear the end of it if we're late.

Reaching down, Vic-- full name Victor James-- takes her hand in his before leading the way out of their basement-level apartment and into the heat of the bright, sunshiny day. The heat's already reaching near-oppressing levels… not that she minds it. How can she? She's living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, off the street and as far away from the fake, plastic people that had discarded her as soon as they figured out that they couldn't make her into one of them. Add onto that how she's found her soulmate and begun pursuing her dream? There's nowhere else on the face of the Earth that she'd rather be--

He stops short, suddenly, a bit of a nervous smile tugging his lips.

Hey, uh, 'Lyss… you wanna snag somethin' to eat real quick before we go to the school?

A blond brow quirks as she looks up at him, the sudden change one that jars her too much to be ignored.

I guess so, but what happened to bein' in a hurry?

Hunger pangs happened to me bein' in a hurry. Now c'mon.

Whatever you say-- hey!

Snagged by the hand, Alyssa finds herself being bodily hauled into the nearest restaurant… a local hot dog joint, one with all of five options on the menu. The scent of pork hangs heavily on the air, something that gets her stomach growling while also arousing her suspicions further. Why?

And what, exactly, is your vegetarian ass gonna get to eat here?

I-I-I…

The stunned, guilty look on his face is enough for her to pull away from him entirely, her arms crossing over her chest as she glares at him. She can't help how her voice grows louder, harsher… and at the moment? She also can't find it in herself to care.

You've got exactly five seconds to tell me just what the fuck is goin' on here--

Viccy! There you are!

The bleached blond that strides up to them is about as far away from the pink-haired girl as one could get, in terms of appearance. Hair perfectly coiffed, there's no way that her dress cost less than a couple grand… and judging by the way that she looks at Alyssa? Anyone that doesn't dress as she does is considered lesser.

Provided that they're not porkin' her on a regular basis, that is.

The blond simpers over him, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

I just wanted to remind you about the appointment we've got with the caterer for the reception. You will be showing up, yes? I mean, Mommy and Daddy--

Oh.

Oh.

So that's what's going on, mm? Alyssa scowls… before affecting the most saccharine smile she can, deciding to interject in a tone that's so pleased and delighted if one ignores the lack of sincerity.

Oh, Vic never mentioned to me that he was getting married! Congratulations, sweetie. You're a very lucky woman.

As she expected, the adulation thaws the blond's attitude toward her since she finds herself on the receiving end of a matching smile, just as insincere as the people that the pink-haired girl thought she'd left behind.

Why thank you, honey! I don't think my Viccy's ever mentioned you before. Who might you be?

It's only that legendary fury of a woman scorned that keeps the smile on Alyssa's lips.

I'm the woman your Viccy has been fucking on a regular basis for the last six months.

As the color drains from both of their faces, the pink-haired young woman knows that she will be back on the street before the night is over. By now?

The idea doesn't so much as make her blink.

-------------------------∞-------------------------

December 30th, 2011
Dallas, Texas

Excuse me, Alyssa… do you have a minute?

Of all the times to forget to close the door to her locker room… the pink-haired young woman sighs to herself as she glances toward the man with graying red hair that has taken up residence in the doorway. David Fireson is his name-- or, at least, that's what she thinks it is. With as little sleep as she's gotten lately, it's no surprise that she's unsure. Nodding in silent response, she leans forward and begins unlacing her simple black wrestling boots, not allowing the guest she has to disrupt her routine… while also making the concession of giving him the opportunity to speak, an opportunity he takes.

You were impressive out there. How long have you wrestled?

It'll be two and a half years, soon enough.

Extracting one foot from the depths of her boot, she looks up at the man through atomic bangs.

Why? Did I fuck somethin' up?

You didn't fuck up, per se...though you did some things I break my students out of early. Who trained you?

A buncha' people-- some in the Carolinas, a weekend or two in Georgia… a good seven or eight months at Kazowski's before I wound up here.

She shrugs.

Hm, no wonder...no one person knows what you know and what you don't...it also explains the hodgepodge of--

He pauses as she unlaces the other boot, not because she does something strange with it, but because he sees something strange. She put her first boot next to that well-worn duffle bag of hers, but it's the neon pink sleeping bag next to it that catches his eye.

Where...do you stay?

He can see her going tense at that question, the subtle muscles beneath her skin bulging up slightly as she finds herself glaring at him.

Why d'you care?

David smiles wryly.

Proper rest is essential to the life of a professional wrestler, especially one that wrestles like you.

Scoffing, she shakes her head.

So... lemme guess. You'll 'show me some moves' in your hotel room, right? That's what you're getting at?

Her tone turns downright vitriolic.

I hate to break it to you, Pops, but I don't roll like that. Try hittin' up Faith or Angie-- they suck dick to get booked, I'm sure they'd suck dick for a free hotel room.

Rather than getting offended, his wry smile only widens.

Actually I've got a guy I'm training that I think can learn from you, and you from him. If you want me to take you in, I can make a phone call and have a room at my training school ready before you can finish packing up.

Now that gets an eyebrow raise, the pink-haired girl running a hand through her bangs to shove them out of the way of those acidic green eyes… eyes that are a mix of suspicion and surprise.

No shit?

David's wry smile turns into a grin.

No shit. Just a guy who only knows wrestling trying to give back to the business that gives him a reason to live.

I'd make some crack about bein' just a charity case to you, but…

It's her turn to smile wryly, the pink-haired girl digging out a pair of black Converse sneakers that she pulls onto her feet.

Shit, charity's why I'm not dead in a gutter somewhere.

Whether you're a charity case or a phenomenon depends on what you do next, my dear.

Alyssa snorts.

I ain't your dear, Pops. I thought we went over that already.

Tell you what. You stop calling me Pops, and I'll stop calling you Dear.

He grins as he pushes off the doorframe.

So I'll leave you to finish packing up, and I'll go make that phone call--

As the Golden Phoenix speaks, the pink-haired girl stashes her boots in that old duffel bag and zips it closed before looking up at him with a brow raised.

Done.

David quirks his own eyebrow, then chuckles.

Well then perhaps I can start earning your trust by making that call while you're standing there and can listen in.

The pink-haired girl shrugs as she stands, popping her neck with a soft sigh.

Whatever floats your boat.

David nods a bit, extracting an antiquated flip phone from his pocket and hitting the Send button twice. After a moment, he begins speaking into it.

Yeah, James? Have the guys clean out room four. We have an occupant for it starting two minutes ago.

As he continues to speak, Alyssa finds herself only half-listening to what he's saying-- only just enough to notice if he says something suspicious. Since he doesn't, though, despite herself? She begins to feel optimistic, a feeling that she's denied herself for far too long. This could be the shot she's looking for… and as it turns out?

It winds up being exactly that.

-------------------------∞-------------------------

January 22nd, 2012
San Antonio, Texas (Otherwise known as 'Somewhere'.)

Glancing around the bathroom that is attached to her room at the Golden Phoenix Institute, a faint smile tugs at the lips of the freshly-dyed pink-haired girl. Even if it's nothing to write home about-- assuming she'd do such a thing, anyway-- there's something… liberating about having somewhere to call her own. It had taken a good week or two for it to sink in, for David to convince her that it'd take more than an attitude problem to get her kicked out. There's something… nostalgic, she thinks, in those blue eyes of his when he looks at her, as if he's looking at some past sin that she embodies. Maybe she's nothing more than some sort of atonement for a past sin of his, or maybe that shy Isamu kid actually needs her. Hell, it's entirely possible that her new instructor is right in that she needs him just as much as he needs her… although whether or not that's the case remains to be seen. Such seems to be the way of things around the institute-- and for once? She doesn't fear the future, dawn having finally broken over the horizon to pierce the darkness she's learned to survive in. Rather? She looks forward to it, to the opportunities that are now available to her...

Like Survive and Conquer.

-------------------------∞-------------------------

January 23rd, 2012
Excerpt from cherrybomb.blogspot.com

Survive and Conquer… gotta' say, it's one of the less cheesy names I've heard for one of these things. Honestly, I'm waiting for a promoter to just be blunt about what he calls a match where an obscene level of guys and gals get into the ring with the purpose of flinging people out of the ring left, right, and center until there's only one wrestler left. Seriously, Jeff-- just call it Clusterfuck already and be done with it. But I guess it doesn't matter what you call it. No matter what, it's an opportunity for me to go out there and make a name for myself right from the get-go. And that's what I'm going to be doing, boys and girls. I'm gonna make my way down that ramp, and I'm gonna hit the ring like it's a hooker that owes me money. And if you think about it? That's exactly what this business is-- a bloated ol' whore that's done nothing but take, take, take. Come to think of it, that's all that life has done to me ever since I told my folks to get fucked, that I wasn't gonna go to some stuffy college to get some stuffy job, marry some stuffed suit and have stuffed kids in a convenient white little picket fence.

That all changes... on January 29th.

I've lost count of the pounds of flesh I've given up in the name of bein' more than just a face in the crowd, of the nights I slept under the stars instead of in some shitty apartment just so I could afford wrestling school. Shit, there was a point that I stripped, bumped and ground against a pole and shook my ass like some idiotic bitches do to the ring ropes so I could buy ring gear that didn't suck. Maybe I woulda' been able to afford a place to shack up if I'd been better at faking bein' turned on, maybe not. Those days of desperation are in the past, though-- and that's where they're stayin', no matter how much it costs me.

Or how much it costs you unfortunate bastards that are in my way.

I doubt that most of the people in this match have been where I have, livin' on the streets with a duffel bag to my name and no idea of where my next meal was comin' from. I've lied, I've cheated, and I've stolen just to make sure that I didn't go hungry-- and that desperation, that drive to survive hasn't gone anywhere just 'cause I've got a roof over my head and three meals a day. No, all the more that has done is made me hungrier. I'd rather die than end back up on the streets, really, and I'd rather die than just be another goddamn statistic. I'm not just gonna be Number Six, the pink-haired broad that was in the ring for a cup of coffee, oh no… instead? I'm going to be Alyssa Fucking Casteele, the girl that came from the gutter to beat the fuck out of eighty-five other wrestlers to take the win-- and that five hundred Gs?

That's gonna make sure that I never go without anything that I need ever again.

Hah, wonder how quickly the rest of my family will suddenly welcome me back with open arms once I've got more money than they could ever dream of… not that it matters. They could all be on their deathbeds simultaneously and I wouldn't give a fuck, not after the way they put me out on the curb like yesterday's trash. Hell, I'm not even all that attached to Pops, beyond how he's the reason that I've actually got a room to call my own for the first time in years. There's moments where I zone out a little when he's talkin' to me, tellin' me about how I need to look out for This Overrated Piece of Shit or That Delusional Bitch, or how I need to be sure to have that shy as all Hell Japanese kid's back if (read: when) I'm still in the running. Now the latter, I'd probably do if only because it never hurts to have backup… but really, I don't have to watch out for anyone. Instead, they're gonna need to be watchin' out for me-- and trust me when I say that I'm a big fuckin' deal even if you've never heard of me before. That's what makes me so dangerous to the old guard, to the Lester Onlys and Sally Talfourds and Kurt Nobles of APW and all those other people from beyond. I know you all-- I've watched more'n my fair share of tapes to make sure of that fact at David's insistence-- but yet none of you have seen fit to look into what I've done since I'm 'just some snot-nosed rookie'. By the time I'm done?

You'll all be wondering just how you overlooked someone as talented as I am in the first place.

So lace up your boots, pray to whatever uncaring god or goddess or what-have-you, get together your last will and testaments and assume the position… because boys and gals? You'll be kissin' your asses goodbye one… by one… by one, until I'm the one left standing. Just don't get all pissed off when I come out the winner, okay? I mean, I'd be classy enough to lose gracefully if it was remotely possible for me to do so.

Oh yeah, one more thing. That phony Lisa Lyon bitch, the one that I've heard runs faster from criticism than a little boy from a Catholic priest? She can eat my ass. Lord only knows it wouldn't be the first time she's puckered up for someone's brown eye in the name of not getting massacred like the hack she is.

Kiss kiss, bitches!
♥
A.C.

[SalTal]

[Flashback]

Harvey: Ruckus just showed that he'd rather go into the finals against Marvin rather than Talfourd, because had he not broken that up, there's no doubt Marvin would have been eliminated!


Sally pulls Ruckus up to his feet, and gives him The Makeover right into Marvin's chair! As Ruckus is laid out, Sally runs to the ropes and hits with another Happy Ending, hooking both of Ruckus' legs,

1…2..

Marvin pulls her off! He then pulls Sally up, giving her a hard knee to the Midsection before giving her another Whiplash right onto the steel chair! Marvin pulls her up and gives her another Whiplash for good measure, and goes for the cover,

1…2…3! DING! DING! DING!

Eliminated: Sally Talfourd

Harvey: What a darn shame that Sally Talfourd, the APW Heavyweight Champion has been eliminated!

The fans are absolutely livid as Sally is helped out of the ring by a referee…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Internet Explorer-*click*-Favorites-*click*-APW.com-*click*-Survive and Conquer-*click*-Sally Talfourd-*click*-Loading...

"Sally Talfourd presents ..."

is written across the screen, fades out, then

"In association with Action Packed Wrestling"

is next to appear, holds, then fades out for

"Happy Endings T.V."

which fades out to a shot of the insatiable, loveable, and returning-to-the-spotlight megastar that has left a gaping hole in the wrestling world since her leaving, Sally Talfourd. She’s all civilian-like, standing inconspicuously in line at her local coffeehouse. Everyone passes her by, not noticing her. That’s not to say they don’t remember her. Every day, the mail comes and there are all sorts of requests for her to return. Every day, there’s people crossing the street to snap a photo with her. But, dressed down and hiding in the crowd, she goes unspotted…until…

[Inspiration]

[Fan#1001] Sally Talfourd!

Sally looks around, finds a fan bounding up to her dressed head-to-toe in Sally Talfourd gear! She mustn’t be much more than 13, 14? Anyway, Sally greets her with a big smile.

[Fan#1001] I’ve missed you so much!

[Sally] Thank-you, dear. I’ve missed being in the ring.

[Fan#1001] When are you coming back?

[Sally]…oh…well, you see, it’s not that easy.

[Fan#1001] Why? Just come back!

[Sally] Well, I love wrestling. I’m sure you heard me say that a few hundred times! But you deserved the best. I guess, I just couldn’t give you what you deserve. I mean, you want to see me winning, don’t you? I don’t think I could do that anymore…

[Inspiration Kicks In]

[Suit]…as you can see, projected growth shows that you’ll never have to work a day in your life again, Ms. Talfourd.

Camera swings round to find Sally looking half-unconscious in a big office chair, slumped into it, just about to slide off due to the utter boredom. Little known fact: It’s exactly how Sally looks when Jason Kash is cutting a promo. Or Kid Dynamite. Or any one of the flavourless hacks that have taken her place since she’s been gone.

[Suit] Ms. Talfourd? *No response from Sally* Ms. Talfourd?

[Fan#1001] Sally Talfourd!

[Sally]…book me a match.

[Suit] Sorry?

[Sally] Book me a match. I’m sick of this? *Sally sits up, grabs the folder of papers in front of her and just tosses them to the floor*[/i] What is this? I don’t even know what you’re saying! There’s only one type of growth that I know: When I’m on TV rating go up. [/color]

[Shane]*From behind the camera* That’s not the only thing that grows…

[Sally] Ok, two things. *She says with a smirk. She jumps up out of the chair, yelling out as she leaves…* Call APW– find out what’s the next pay-per-view!

[Shane] Sally! That’s Survive and Conquer!

[The First Sighting]

Think back to when OverDrive was in Tampa. Sally had just appeared in front of an APW camera for the first time in months, having given some tips to the schmucks in charge of selling Survive and Conquer. The roars die down as the camera finishes taking in Sally for the audience’s pleasure and surprise. She walks off, having done her bit for the week, making to leave.

[Shane] Well that’s promising.

[Sally] How so?

[Shane] Well, they remembered you, the audience. At least you’re not a nobody.

[Sally] Please, Shane. As if they would forget me! Me? *Sally laughs at herself* People have been wanting to see me back in the ring for a long, long time. The fans are always right. They know who are the stayers in this business. Who deserves the attention, even if they’re not around as much. When they give you that kind of reaction, they’re deciding who gets another chance in this business. And, from the sounds of things, they’ve decided that I get my second chance.

[Paperwork]

[Sally]…and it turned out it was cherry red! Not rose red! Oh my gosh, Jeff. I was so embarrassed…Jeff?

Pan over to Jeff who has dozed off in his seat. He perks up when he hears his name and acts all president-y. He looks around, sees that Sally’s still there (she must have been rambling for a half-hour!), and looks a whole lot less perky.

[Jeff] Sally, you remember why you’re here? Sign this? *Jeff slides a piece of paper over to her*[/i] Just that. Not storytime. Your people called my people, I got you a place in the match, and now you need to sign off on it. [/color]

Sally frowns, grabs the paper and a pen, scribbles, then pushes it back to her now-again boss.

[Sally] I can go now, if you need to do…

[Jeff] Thanks Sally. I’ll be seeing you around.

Sally gives a smile to Jeff as she pushes away from the desk. Jeff gets back to doing some sort of work (any work, just hoping Sally leaves). As she is leaving, Sally finds herself face to face with Kia and Violet Winter. And what happens next is, well, OverDrive segment history…

[The Second Chance]

Running. Lifting. Training. The past six months. All preparation for some unknown return. There was a time that it wasn’t for a return, because there wasn’t going to be one. But then, that girl. That desire. And that match. Survive and Conquer came around, and Sally had to be in it. Now all her work’s had a focus. A goal: Go into that match and win it. It’s not like the first time she was here. It’s the second chance: A second chance means better than last time. The second chance means winning this thing. She’s all a mess of sweat and exhaustion, just about collapsed on a sidewalk bench as she’s been doing her running for the day. No stuffy gym for her!

[Shane] Seriously, you made me follow you while you were running and now we’re doing the talking? Why didn’t you just tell me to meet you here!

[Sally] Because You need the exercise! I was backstage at OverDrive and seriously, I think all the staff has been given discount cards for McDonalds or something! I’m not having Shane McTubby’s image rubbing off on me.

[Shane] That’s not my name and…fine.

[Sally] Anyway, where could we have got a better shot than this!

Sally opens up her arms, and Shane zooms the camera back to reveal the billboard, high above the road, that Sally’s stopped in front of…



[Shane] And what’s that?

[Sally] That’s excitement, Shane. Hype. Anticipation. I bet every person and their pet is going to be thinking about me. Buying the pay-per-view. Scrambling to get the last tickets! Everyone, everywhere is so eager to get to see this match because, among others who are the best in the business, Sally Talfourd is returning! And everyone know’s that it’s not like it’s some last hurrah. This match is so much more than just a ‘swan-song’ or anything like that. It’s a chance to remind these fans who have stayed loyal that I am still among the best in the business. That despite not being in the spotlight all this time, I can come back to it and do a [i[better[/i] job than all these people who’ve tried to take my place. And this match is full of them: People who think they can replace the one and only Sally Talfourd in the wrestling world. Well, I’ve looked over this list of competitors. Half of them need their diapers changed by their mother’s still, they’re that new to the business. [/color]

[Shane] And the other half?

[Sally] The other half needs their diapers changed by their careers, that’s how old they are! There’s a great balance of the ridiculously inexperienced and the plain ridiculous in this match that there’s a lot riding on me and a handful of others.

[Shane] So there are a few people who are half-decent?

[Sally] Oh yes. A few. Most of them are from APW. You know, Lester, Keaton, CJ, Marvin, Noble, Rebel. They’re the people I look at and go “Well, they probably know what they’re doing.” And, sure, there’s a few people that are coming in for just the night who might know what they’re doing- like this Goeren, Ramirez, BADASS, Black. The vast majority though? They are just looking for a line on a resume. A chance to say that they took part in all of this. The select few, with me, are looking for a lot more.

[Shane] And what’s that? What are you looking for?

[Sally] I expect everyone is looking for something different, but all those things that we’re looking for set us apart. Some people are here for the cash. Others for the respect that winning this match. Some might be here to take that title of being the S&C winner back to their own company. Me? I’m here for one reason and one reason only. The same reason I did anything in this business. The same reason I’m back in this match.

[Shane]…the fans.

[Sally] That’s right, the fans. They’re not just fans of the business. They are the business. We’re only here, the match is only happening, the whole business only exists for them! If no one watched…what sort of business would we have? So why am I back? It’s to give the fans what they want. They want one hell of a match, right? Well…who better to give it to them than me? *Sally smiles with a wink* Others might be here for all sorts of reasons, but the fans know, and I know, that I’m here for them.

And here come some likely fellows, yes? Two guys walking up the same street. The two check Sally out, who returns a smile. Hey! They’re pretty cute anyway. They look past her then, and towards that looming billboard

[RandomGuy#1] Looks like someone’s coming back to APW.

[RandomGuy#2] You don’t say! I hope it’s someone interesting.

[RandomGuy#1] Like Captain Klappton?

[RandomGuy#2] Or Biff Ribo…whatever.

[RandomGuy#1] Nah man, it’s gotta be a chick. Look at the picture.

[RandomGuy#2] Psh, that’s just BS then man. What chick’s ever been in APW?

The two walk off, continuing their inane conversation. There’s some muffled laughter from behind the camera as Shane is highly amused by this. He swings back to find Sally standing there gape-mouthed and looking as irate as they come.

[Sally]…don’t say anything…

[Shane]…but…

[Sally] Nothing! Nothing at all Shane. *Sally waves a hand at the guys as they are leaving* I guess they weren’t fans. Or maybe they’ve forgotten about me. Either way, that’s two more people I have to get out and impress. I’m going into this match to make sure everyone remembers that I have what it takes. Think back a year, I was riding the wave of success. I had beat Level-One; something so few people had every done, and something I’d now done twice. I was APW champion. I’d represented APW in tournaments and won them. I was as good as I’d been in years. I was better then everyone except two other people: Ryan Ruckus and Terry Marvin.

Now I get that people are going to be thinking I’m not even near the level I was last time. I mean, I’ve been gone for half of the year, and the other half I ended up losing the APW title, losing Test for the Best, and losing to CJ. But, the thing is, nothing is static. Everything changes. I’ve changed. I’m not just one of the best wrestlers, but I’m also one of the smartest. What lost me the last S&C taught me a lesson or two. I know where I went wrong. I know what I need to do. I’ve learned and I’ve grown. Being out of the ring has helped me to heal my spectacular body…

[Shane]…it’s alright…spectacular though…

[Sally]…shut it. I’ve healed up, but kept everything I’ve learned. I’m twice as ready as I ever was going to be. My body, my smarts, and my skills: All far better than they were last year. And I came in third. Just on that basis, I should be looking at a final two place. But I’m working towards more than that. You see, while everyone will think that all those losses I wore last year are for the worse…they’ve actually taught me a hell of a lot too. They showed me how much I can endure. How much I can suffer…and then it taught me what I need to do to endure more.

Sally lets out a long sigh, reflective and…deep. Thinking back over her APW times. The good and the bad. The last year. The last two years. The highs and the lows and how much blood, sweat and tears she poured into APW because she loved the place. Still loves the place. Loves it enough to dive into S&C and try and bring the match to unparalleled heights.

[Sally] It’s funny, but when I was winning- when I was at the top of APW- I was winning everything. But I wasn’t learning. I wasn’t learning from my successes. That’s why my ‘fall from grace’ so-to-speak was so sudden. But, in that time, when I was at the bottom of the pile, I learned more about myself and what I can do. I realised that it was never my weaknesses that were the problem. That’s what I learned in the past year. That any match…any win or loss…it comes down to your opponents weaknesses. Whether you can exploit them, whether you can take advantage of them, whether you can make something out of them. And for the opponent? It’s whether they can make something out of yours.

Last year, Marvin and Ruckus saw enough of me to know what to do with me. That I was tired enough to eliminate,. I wasn’t focused enough. I wasn’t prepared enough. Well, now that I know that…I’m not going to be that. When it comes to the last three this time- when 83 people have been eliminated and I stand at the doorway of greatness again- I’m not going to be exhausted, unfocused, and unready. I’ m going to be that person who’s more ready than the other two. And then I capitalise on their weaknesses. Whether it be they don’t know what to expect of me, they don’t know how to dig down into that last reserve, and they certainly won’t know how to use that secret weapon.

[Shane] Secret weapon?

[Sally] Yes Shane, my secret weapon. The thing that’s got me more wins than I’ve got on my own. The fan. When they get behind me, when they start to cheer and chant, that’s when I find what it takes to get a win. They’ll be cheering me, Shane. They’ll believe in the fairytale that I’m about to try and create. Disappear for six months, make the teasing comeback. First match in the ring. Having to beat 86 men and women. Coming in at 19. It’s all the parts you need for a fairytale! Except Cinderella and Snow White don’t having nothing on me! I’m not some dandy woman who treads delicate enough to not break a glass slipper. And I’m not hanging out with a bunch of dwarves…not again.

[Shane]…again?

[Sally] Long story…*Sally waves her hand as if to wave the idea of the conversation away* Let’s just say, they don’t like FedEx handlers. They don’t treat the boxes too well. Apparently bubblewrap isn’t sufficient protection against broken legs. Anyway…S&C…more people will be watching this than ever before. More people watching to see one of the best matches of the year, anywhere. I mean, really, we all know this is going to be one of the bets purely on the basis of all the talent in it. Ok, so there’s a few people who bring as much talent as, say, Branden Harvey would to a wrestling match. But the overwhelming majority of us in the match bring the skill and the talent and the expertise to actually turn this into something that no one would have expected. And that’s what the fans deserve. The fans deserve a lot, and one of them is a magic match. A match that they’ll remember forever. That they’ll tell to the sceptics of this business or their kids in years to come. Because it’s matches like this that bring people to our business. Bring them in and then I’ll do the rest. I’ll keep them interested just by doing what I do.

[Shane] What else do they deserve then? Then fans?

[Sally] Well, they deserve a strong and healthy APW. They deserve to see APW be the biggest and best company that this business has. I love APW. APW has given me more than I’ve ever hoped for from a company. And here’s my chance to give back. Jeff and Biggs and all those suits backstage work too hard to see APW abandoned by the fans. That’s why I do what I do: I please the fans. I give them everything they want in a wrestler. The skills, the talent, the looks. APW has always been at its best when I’ve been in the spotlight. When the fans voted, I was megastar of the year, feud of the year with Lester, in the match of the year. Time and time again, whenever it came to the fans saying what they liked the most about APW, I was part of it. Now I’m back, the fans will love APW all over again. They will love APW like they’ve never loved before. They’ve missed me so much that they will flock back to see me! And they’ll get that this match. They’ll get me, and they’ll remember everything they loved about APW.

[The Final Thoughts]

Sally, taking a break from her exercise regime, gives way to a shot of her sitting in her ring gear- a sight that has long been overdue- looking all fancy and adorable. She’s inside the locker room, though it’s devoid of anyone else. Everyone in the S&C match has gone off to find their focus.

[Sally] What’s the matter Shane? Did you last check bounce?

[Shane] Yes…but that’s not why I’m here. I thought we could get a few ‘final thoughts’ from you?

[Sally] Such as?

[Shane] Well, you were talking about what the fans deserve last time and what APW should be like. Want to say anything else?

[Sally] No, not really. Only that this match is about making APW right. It’s not about titles. It’s not about the cash prize. Keep the $500,000. Donate it to the Keaton Saint Charity for Hype and Lies. I don’t care about that. It’s about making APW right. Can you imagine if some hack, some nobody from NEW or from CWC won the match? Because you might as well imagine and APW that’s dead a buried. They will go on back to their home, bragging about how not even one APW wrestler could win their own tournament.

[Shane] How do you know that’s going to happen?

[Sally] Because that’s what I do whenever I win things like this! *Sally smiles* You might not guess this about me, but I like to talk about myself. And if I do something good, I like to talk about it. Like that time I won the APW title…or Test for the Best…or came third in S&C last year…or won any of the vast number of things I’ve won. I know what sorts of personalities live in this business, and I know that if an APW-er doesn’t win this thing, APW is going to be a question: Any Pro Wrestlers? The other megastars that know me from this company, they need to work together to make sure these bragging rights stay in APW. Everyone needs to ask themselves: Do they want an APW wrestler to win this or just Any Pro Wrestler? And if they decide they want an APW-er to win this, they’ve got to think about this match smart.

I guess that goes to the idea of what the fans deserve again. The fans deserve more than some blow-in winning this thing. If I thought that any of the APW-ers who are still keeping APW strong had the skills or the talent or the prestige to keep the S&C trophy here in APW then I wouldn’t be here. But I look around, and I don’t have that same faith. I don’t have the faith that they can survive, much less conquer, what everyone else is bringing to this match.

[Shane] You think you’re better than everyone in this?

[Sally] No…no, I’m not saying that at all. I’m usually honest to a fault, and I will be again right now: There are better wrestlers than me in this. There are people in this tournament who have the skills that best match this type of contest more that I have them. But I have one thing that they don’t: Experience. My experience is getting me through this, Shane.

[Shane] How so?

[Sally] Because every day I’ve been in this business, I’ve had to survive and conquer. I’m one of the most successful female wrestlers this industry has ever seen. I have to survive attacks and matches and treatment that so few have to. Lester?Marvin?Saint?Noble? Gates?Black? None of the big names have had to survive what I had to get their name in lights. But mine’s up there. Mine’s up there because I survived. By surviving, I conquered all the people who wanted me to go away. Who wanted me to roll over and let my career die. I conquered what others couldn’t. There might be stronger, tougher, bigger people in this match than me. But I’ve survived and conquered before, and that’s what’s going to get me the win this time.

Suddenly there’s a bang and a knock at the door. A muffled voice yells out “Number 19! Two minutes!” Sally gives a grin to Shane and the camera as she gives herself a final spotcheck in the mirror. She gives herself a focused, determined nod

[Sally] Look, at the end of all this, all people are going to remember is that Kash smoked more blunts than Cheech and Chong did in all their movies; Level-One made a much hyped- and much disappointing- return to the ring; Saint reminded everyone that he works for APW by rebranding all his merch with the company logo; Marvin is still alive, and that might be a good thing; a whole bunch of wrestlers from places that want to be APW came, saw, and failed to conquer even their own excitement; and Sally Talfourd came out to the ring at number 19…survived 67 other wrestlers…conquered the ring once more…and reignited that spirit that burned inside of the APW fans, the wrestlers, and the company once more.

Sally turns to the camera, gives a wink and blows a kiss to all her fans, then heads for the door. The shot fades out on Sally walking out the door, walking towards her match.

Towards her comeback.

Towards her legacy.

[Fan#1001] Sally Talfourd!

"Sally Talfourd"

is handwritten across the screen, in purple, fades out and the episode comes to a close.

[Nathaniel Havok]

The scene opens at APW Headquarters, where Chaz Dillinger has agreed to meet Eric Nickels for a “10 Questions with Eric Nickels” segment. Ready and waiting, they’re given their countdown, and prepare to begin…

Cameraman: 5...

4...

3...

…

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Nickels: Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to 10 Questions with Eric Nickels! As you know, I’m Eric Nickels. The man sitting next to me… Well, he shouldn’t need any introduction either. My guest today is none other than the Crippler himself… Chaz Dillinger. Chaz, thank you for agreeing to do this segment. It really is an honor to have you here with me today.

The two men shake hands, and proceed with their segment.

Nickels: Today is a very special edition, because Survive and Conquer is right around the corner. Action Packed Wrestling will be presenting this event live from Miami, Florida, and you sir are one of the 86 participants in the Survive and Conquer match itself. What possessed you to decide that you’d like to step into the ring with all of these finely-tuned athletes?

Dillinger: To take my place amongst the elite of professional wrestling, I must first make a giant statement. So far in Action Packed Wrestling, no one has been able to beat me. My talents are very-much up to par with the elite in this business, but I’m sick and tired of waiting for someone to throw me a bone. I signed up for Survive and Conquer with a singular goal in mind… To show every man and woman that’s in this business, who the knew face in town is.

Chaz points to his face, giving a cheesy smile.

Dillinger: Do you see this? Do you see this face? This face will one day be the definition of sports entertainment. This face will quickly evolve from the face of an Asylum rookie, to the face that defines professional wrestling. I’ve been waiting my whole life to seize the moment, and my moment comes at Survive and Conquer. Then, I will get the opportunity of a lifetime! 86 so-called sports entertainers from all around the world will have an opportunity to be in the same ring as one another, Sunday night. APW greats such as CJ Gates and Level-One are involved. If that’s not good enough, it’s also going to involve people like Jacob Davies and Ian McCanty, Sean Rhodes and Seifer. This match is going to have it all! No other professional wrestling organization puts on a show quite like this, and I get the chance to prove my worth to the entire world! It’s going to give me a chance to step into the ring with all of these main event players, in the same night! It’s going to place my name amongst an elite few, those who have been able to win this match before.

Nickels: Question number 2, now. You just told me that you’re sick of waiting for someone to throw you a bone. You’ve only been with Action Packed Wrestling for a couple of months. You’re indeed undefeated, but don’t you think that you should earn a few more stripes before you can demand to be a main event player? APW is after-all the first organization you’ve been with. Furthermore, is that why you aligned yourself with Nathaniel Havok, to boost your image and name in the business?

Dillinger: I’ve never denied the fact that aligning myself with Nathaniel Havok was indeed a business decision on my part. Would I be in the position I am right now without Nathaniel? To be honest, I really don’t think so. By association, I immediately catapulted myself into a main event spot. Do I deserve to be there? In my mind, I think so. But Survive and Conquer is my opportunity to show the world that I belong there. Action Packed Wrestling is the most profitable, and largest professional wrestling company in the United States of America, and I plan on being here for a long, long time. But more than that, I plan on being on top of APW for a long, long time. The main goal is to prove that I belong in the same category with the Nathaniel Havoks of professional wrestling. Winning the entire Survive and Conquer match will damn sure do the trick. These opportunities don’t come knocking at your door all the time. Trust me, they’re few and far between. That’s why I jumped at the chance to get into the ring with all of these high caliber athletes. I know for a fact that I am just as good, if not better than the other 85 participants in this match.

Growing up, my family could afford the best, so I was able to receive the best. I truly was blessed as a young man. Having the best teachers, the best mentors, the best of everything I ever wanted! No matter what it was, Chaz Dillinger had the best of it. Just like the other 85 participants in this match, I went to a wrestling school to learn how to do this. The difference is, I was taught how to do this by a professional wrestling legend. I wasn’t trained by some has-been who went broke, and opened a wrestling school to make a little money. Doug Reister is a true legend in this sport, and he was able to mold me into the man that I am today. I was fresh out of college, and had the world by the balls. HE approached ME with the idea of becoming a professional wrestler. He obviously saw something in me that no one else had. He saw the tenacity, the killer instinct, and the heart of a lion. Much like Reister himself, I had all the tools to be a giant success in this business. But even he’ll tell you himself… I’m twice as good as he ever was. So what does that say for me? What does that say for my career? It’s only just begun, Eric. Trust me, it’s only just begun.

Nickels: I believe you. No one has been able to pin you, nor have they been able to make you submit since your debut in APW. From the beginning, you’ve been a machine in that ring. But outside, I’d have to say that you’ve made some pretty bad decisions. In my opinion, aligning yourself with Nathaniel Havok might have pushed you to a main event spot, but you’ll always be forced to live in his shadow. Did you consider all of this when you were making your decision?

Dillinger: I knew that aligning myself with the Enforcer of Sorrow would force me to take a bit of a backseat to the veteran of the group. It really didn’t bother me, though. I get the opportunity to really dig deep into the knowledge of one of the greatest minds that this business has ever seen. Nathaniel Havok built his reputation as such, and now I get the chance to pick the mind of the man himself. If my pure talent wasn’t enough, learning from one of the best in the business definitely takes the cake! I’ve got everything working for me, everything going in my favor. Truth is, no one expects me to come out on top in this match. So-called “experts” have made Chaz Dillinger an afterthought, even before the match has begun! I believe that the legends who have filled me with their wisdom, makes me even more dangerous in the ring. While there might be 86 great athletes in this match, only one of them truly has what it takes to outlast the rest, and that’s Americas Most Wanted… Chaz Dillinger.

Nickels: Well, you really do have a great opportunity in this match. I think that thus far in your career, you’ve been able to show the world that you’re one of… If not THE biggest breakout rookie sensation in professional wrestling at this point in time. You would obviously attribute that to your in-ring skills. Which…

Dillinger: That’s where you’re wrong, Eric. It’s not my in-ring skills… It’s my pure and God-given talent! I was born to make history in this business, it was fate. God looked upon the world in 1988, took one look at Hulk Hogan, and knew that professional wrestling was in trouble. He knew that professional wrestling would eventually need a knight in shining armor. I am that man. I am professional wrestlings knight in shining armor!

Nickels: My mistake. But my fourth question is about your entry number. You’re a little bit further down the list than other competitors. You’ll be entering the Survive and Conquer match at number 62. You have to feel like this gives you an even better advantage over the others.

Dillinger: I wouldn’t quite say that. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but Sally Talfourd was able to win the whole damn thing… And she entered the match as the 19th participant! Truth is, it doesn’t matter what number you enter with. It ultimately comes down to who wants it more, who wants to win the most. It comes down to who has the most heart to get the job done. And trust me, no one has more heart than Chaz Dillinger. Nobody wants to win this match more than I do, and I’ll get the job done by any means necessary. If I had to brutalize my own damn mother, I’d do it to win this match! Winning this match will force others to take a back seat to the Crippler. There are men who debuted in APW after me, who have lost, and who have stunk up the joint… But they’ve already been placed on a higher pedestal than I have. Winning this match, makes sure that things just like those will never happen again.

Nickels: Everyone knows that a lot of planning goes into a match like this. Alliances can be determined way ahead of time, and strategy could very-well win you the match. If anything, I’d say that this match might be a little more mental than it is physical. You have to be extremely tough to win a match like this, let-alone to compete in it. Have you thought about any alliances? Any plans to make friends with the other combatants before the match?

Dillinger: Come on, now! You know damn-well that nobody in this match could ever be good enough to team up with Chaz Dillinger! In my eyes, this is every man for himself. Well, any man OR woman for him-or-her self. I don’t plan on helping any of those fools make their way to the final four. I’m not going to need any of their help, so why would I want them to ride my coattails? Making alliances in a match like this, is a blatant sign of weakness, and doubt in ones self. I am more-than confident in my ability to win this match by myself. I don’t need to team up with any APW Megastar, I don’t need to form an unexpected alliance with any outsider. I’ll be looking out for myself, and I’ll be insuring that I make it to the homestretch. I don’t need to be wasting my time or energy on anyone else, and I’m not going to. Mid-match, who knows. I might team up with someone to eliminate a more-than-average sized competitor, but I wont be letting anyone count on me to help them do their bidding. I’ll be too busy making history, I’ll be too busy eliminating their sorry asses!

Nickels: Let’s see here, question six, right? You seem to not like much of anyone. Besides Nathaniel Havok and the rest of the Cult of Personality, you haven’t gotten along with anyone else. Do you think that this could possess some of these 85 competitors to form alliances against you?

Dillinger: So what if they do? Truth be told, I could take them all on! 85 wrestlers, against 1 pure athlete… And I can guarantee you right now that I’d still come out on top! It’s not about who can do what to who, and it’s not about who can team up with who. It’s about who can survive, and who can conquer. Trust me, I plan on doing both.

Nickels: Earlier you had mentioned that it was every man and woman for themselves. How do you feel about stepping into the ring with not only men, but women as well?

Dillinger: It wouldn’t be the first time, or the second. If you’ll remember right, I stepped into the ring with Katrina Olivetti twice already. As a matter of fact, I stepped into the ring with her twice, and I beat the living hell out of her twice. She’s a champion, someone who is supposed to represent the very best in all of Action Packed Wrestling. One of the few, one of the elite, and I beat her twice! Not only that, but I beat her two times, in my first two matches with the company! How damn sweet is that, Eric? I don’t think that there’s another professional wrestler alive that can say they’ve done something like that! They might not be able to say it, but I damn-sure can! And you can bet your ass that any other time I step into the ring with her, I’ll beat the living hell out of her yet again!

But to answer your question, of course I don’t have a problem with it! It’s not going to be the last time that I’m forced to step into the ring with a female! They knew what they were in for, when they signed up for this match! They knew that it wouldn’t be an all female affair. They signed up for this, so there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from bitch-slapping them just like they were men! You know Eric, I’ll put it to you like this… They might not HAVE balls, but some of them have more balls than the men in this match. Well, all except Chaz Dillinger. Face the facts Eric, chivalry is dead and gone! We don’t live in a day-and-age where men open doors for women! There’s no more watching your mouth around the fairer sex! They’ve got equal rights now, and are entitled to everything that we’re entitled to! So whatever happens… Happens.

Nickels: I’ve been reading a lot recently, people saying that you’re making some major moves outside the ropes. I know that you’ve got a decent-sized bankroll, and you’re expanding your business past the city of New York. Are you concerned at all that this might distract you from reaching your ultimate goal? With all that money rolling in and out of your enterprise, you have to think about it an awful lot, right?

Dillinger: I’ve never let my business outside of professional wrestling, effect what I do inside that ring. I’m well on my way to showing the world that I’m the best in the business. Eventually, you’re all going to be forced to take notice. I’m not only the most intelligent professional wrestler to ever live, but I’m also the best period. Right now, Nathaniel Havok might own that right. But eventually, when Nathaniel’s gone, I’ll take that spot! And when I win the Survive and Conquer match, it’s just going to bring me that much closer. One day, I will go into the APW Hall of Fame as not only a champion, but a Survive and Conquer match winner. Hell who knows, I might even go in as a multiple time winner of the Survive and Conquer match! Only time will tell what I’m able to do in the business, but rest assured that my exploits outside the ring, will have no effect.

The business decisions that I make outside the ring, are just another way for me to make money. I love money, I worship it. Why wouldn’t I want as much money as I could possibly get my hands on? I’ve got investments in a little bit of this, and a little bit of that. All of which, will turn me a profit. Why? Because I’m the most intelligent man to not only grace a professional wrestling ring, but the most intelligent man to ever play the stock market. I have a brain that any average person would kill to have, and I know how to use it to my advantage. In the ring as well as in my personal life, I use my brain more than anything else. Like you said earlier, this match is more mental than anything. Wrestling in-general is more mental than it is physical. And I’m able to put life aside, and do nothing but focus on the task at hand. When I want to, I can have a one-track mind. When I’m inside of a wrestling ring, I’m able to make sure that all outside distractions are pushed to the side. Sunday night at the pay per view won’t be any different.

Nickels: And what have you done to prepare thus far? This match is not only a test of ability, but it’s also the ultimate test of endurance. Have you focused more on your cardio as of late, your strength conditioning maybe?

Dillinger: I’ve made a point to drastically change everything about my workouts. I still train the same way, but now I train with the volume turned WAY up. If I was a gym junkie before, I’m off the deep end now! My mornings start around 6. I begin with a very light breakfast, maybe a fruit of some kind. Around 7 I’m already showered and ready to go. I make sure that all of my business affairs are in order for the day, and I’m at the gym by 7:30. I train until noon, eat a light lunch, and go back to training. Around 5 in the evening, I once again check in with my business, and then go back to training. I average about 12 hours a day in the gym, preparing for this match. Usually I spend about 4 hours a day in the gym, if I have to visit the office and take care of other work. But lately, others have been taking care of business for me, so I can be sure that I’m absolutely prepared for this match. Cardio plays a big role in all my workouts, now. This match is indeed a huge test of endurance. Endurance plays more of a key than anything else, besides your brain.

And as I continue to watch film on all the previous Survive and Conquer matches of the past, I also know that this is the biggest one of them all. Never before has a Survive and Conquer match been so massive, and that’s what is going to make my victory that much-more sweet. I know what’s on the line, I know the spoils that will go to the victor! My mental toughness will shine just as bright as my physical. All of the dumbbell training, all of the miles on the treadmill, it’s all going to pay off. I’m in the best shape of my life, and it continues to just get better an better. There’s not a man or woman in this match that looks better than I do! My hard work shows via my body. My dedication is shown through my muscle mass. My endurance will thrive when I step into the match, and my intelligence will shine thanks to my actions. I will not be denied this opportunity! I’ve worked for far too long, and I’ve worked far too hard for someone else to take what is ALREADY rightfully mine. Chaz Dillinger is winning this match, and I’ll do it with ease.

Nickels: You sound pretty confident to me. I can’t tell you the last time that I’ve had someone sell themselves to me like this! You’re very convincing, Chaz.

Dillinger: I’m convincing, because I believe in what I say! If a man doesn’t believe in himself, he’s not going to get anywhere in life. I have all the confidence in the world in what I’m able to do in that ring, and I know for sure that I’ve got what it takes to win this match! On one of the biggest nights of the year, no star will shine brighter than Chaz Dillinger! I am going to steal the show, and then I’m going to win the whole damn thing!

Nickels: I’m going to give you the floor and let you take this 10 Questions segment home. My last question is, do you have anything left that you’d like to say to the other 85 men and women in this match?

Dillinger: Of course I do, I’ve always got something to say. I’d like to take this opportunity to yet again talk about myself, and how great I truly am. You see, you might not know it yet… But Chaz Dillinger is the chosen one. I’m the man that’s been chosen to lead professional wrestling into a whole new direction! It’s time for me to take my rightful spot in this business, right at the top of the mountain. Soon, I will be the influence of every professional wrestler all around the world! But not only that, I’m going to save this dying business! There aren’t too many old school wrestlers left. Men and women that were put through hell, enduring countless hours of pain and punishment, just to learn their craft. These days, the ring is filled with primadona, know-it-all, little boys and girls, who were throne onto the assembly line, and manufactured just like everyone else. They’re pretty boys and preppy girls, with no heart of talent to assist them.

They’ve either got the look, or they’ve slept with the right people. Chaz Dillinger is the exact opposite. I might be the sexiest man alive, but you can bet your bottom dollar that I’m also one of the toughest sons-a-bitches that you’ll ever meet in your life! I’m won national championships in freestyle wrestling, and I was an all American before that! State championships were nothing, it didn’t matter what sport it was. The fact of the matter is that I was blessed, destined for greatness in athletic competition. I was placed on this earth to raise the bar. I was put here to define a craft, and change the landscape of what is! But more than all of this, I was born… To show the world that divine intervention does truly exist. Like I said before, God took my fate into his very own hands. He made my fate, so that I could join the ranks of the best that this business has ever seen!

Those before me might have done some very amazing things. Men who have won gold medals, national competitions, big marquee fights and championship games… But they were all just setting the stage, so that Chaz Dillinger could come along and make them all a bunch of afterthoughts. In this match, I’ve got nothing to lose… Meanwhile, I’ve got everything to gain. I haven’t tasted defeat in this business yet, and I don’t plan on doing so at the pay per view. You all have my word. At the end of the night, when it’s all said and done, Tony Ferrari will say those famous words that will reek of destiny. Your winner of the 2012 Survive and Conquer match, the Crippler, Chaz Dillinger.

Chaz smirks into the camera as Eric looks at him in approval. Eric looks back into the camera with a smile on his face, as Chaz continues to smirk.

Nickels: You heard it here first, folks. We’ll see you Sunday, LIVE in Miami!

The scene fades to black…

[Billy Dork]

Prelude: The Night No One Remembered

"...In two thousand eight, a man by the name of Billy Dork walked into the APW halls and made history..."

Dita tries to fight Billy down in the casket, but Billy is able to swing the casket door opens and starts punching Dita. Billy goes to step out of the casket and Dita drop kicks Billy, and Billy falls backwards into the Casket, hitting the side of it. Dita tries to close the casket, but Billy stops her and then grabs her hair and pulls her into the casket with him

Chase: Billy isn’t giving up just yet....

"...Billy Dork competed in APW's first ever Casket match at One Night In Hell two thousand eight..."

The Two exchange punches and Billy picks Dita up and body slams her into the casket. Billy Tries to climb out of it, but Dita grabs Billy’s leg and keeps him in. Billy pulls Dita up and Out of no where, Dita hits the Dominatrix’s Kiss!

Harvey: Its got to be over...

"...Billy fought his heart out in what would turn out to be the last match of his short lived APW career..."

Dita climbs out of the casket and closes the lid shut...

"A match he was on the losing end of...Now Billy returns to the APW for one night only...Hoping to make history once again..."


Scene 1: What Would It Mean To You

"What would it mean to you?"

[Was the question the man sitting on a rather ugly brown couch in the middle of what looked to be someone's living room asked himself as the scene opened. The same question everyone had seemed to be asking him ever since he signed up for APW's Survive and Conquer Battle Royal, what would winning the Survive and Conquer match mean to you?...]

"That's a good question..."

[The man thought aloud to himself once again while staring intently into a flyer for Survive and Conquer in his hands, the truth was while he'd been asked the question too many times to count in the last few weeks, he never really had an answer for anyone, which led him to wonder what would winning really mean to him?...]

"Hey Bill where's your sandwich meat?"

[The man sitting on the couch deep in thought is known around the Universal Wrestling League as, "Everybody's favorite hero", "The Dorkinator", "The Man, The Myth, The Dork" Or simply, Billy Dork, however here, in this instance, he is an unknown just another name in a list of eighty-six, eighty-six men all competing for the same prize the hero of our story will find himself competing for on January twenty-ninth. On January twenty-ninth our hero will step into unfamiliar territory and try to do the impossible, dethrone eighty-five other men and be the last one standing, and to be quite honest the thought of this daunting task awaiting Billy, well it gave him the sudden urge to pee himself although in fear.]

"Bill, did you hear me?"

[Billy shakes his head out finally snapping himself out of his state of concentration as he turns toward the Kitchen where the voice came from.]

Billy Dork:"Huh? i didn't just pee myself."

[The man gives Bill a weird look, not sure why anyone would randomly blurt out those words.]

"I asked where your lunch meat is."

[Billy shrugs embarrassment clearly showing on his face now knowing the question was not piss related, Billy quickly turns his attention back to the flyer in his hands, not able to take his attention off of it for to long, as if it just kept drawing him back in, his focus was so intent on this flyer at this point he didn't realize the man in the apartment with him walk out of the kitchen and stopping right behind him to peer over his shoulder.]

"Survive and Conquer huh?"

[Billy jumps in his sit, startled by how close his friend now was, he looks up to him for a brief second, only to nod his head before returning his attention to the flyer.]

"Geez Bill, please tell me your not really stressing over that thing?"

[Billy just shakes his head, his eyes never moving from the flyer in his hands.]

Billy Dork:"I don't know Chris, it seems like a pretty big deal."

[The man, now having been identified as Chris Cash, Billy's best friend and manager, just scoffs, obviously not to impressed with the magnitude of the match in question.]

"Chris Cash:"Please, eighty-five losers against you? I'm taking you every time buddy."

[Billy looks up at his friend once again shaking his head, a little ashamed of his friend for underestimating the talent in this huge match.]

Billy Dork:"I really think your underestimating some of these guy Chris, I mean you've got names like, the APW Undisputed champion, CJ Gates, former APW Overdrive Champion and former UWL superstar Kurt Noble, Current APW Overdrive Champion Johnny Rebel, one half of the new CWC tag team champions Paradox Mcsweeny, Robb Daniels who's definitely no stranger, and no slouch either, heck even the UWL TV Champ Davies is in this match, and i heard a rumor Alan Christopher's coming out of retirement for this one, that's a lot of good names Chris, and that's just the names i can read, what about the ones i can't Chris? What about the ones i can't?"


[Billy is now on his knees on the couch tugging at the bottom of Chris's suit jacket frantically, obviously in a panic, Chris being the friend he is gives Billy a hard slap to the face knocking him off the couch and on to the purple shag carpeting as he readjusts his suit before speaking.]

Chris Cash:"Get a hold of yourself Bill, i mean I'm sure wherever those guys like to hang their hat their the biggest thing since sliced bread, but this is a neutral field Bill, here everybody's just as well known as you, everyone's on equal footing in this match, it's anyone's to win Bill and as long as you remember what winning this match will mean for you, you'll do just fine."

[As Billy lied on the shag carpet looking up at his ceiling while rubbing his cheek, still in pain, Billy heard the question rushing through his head again "What would it mean to you?" what would it mean for Billy to win, it seemed to him as if he still wasn't sure, it made Billy wondering what it would mean for the other people in the match. Was it all about the money for them? $500.000 is a lot of money after all, however money didn't really mean a lot to Billy, he was never really one to spend to much, or even knew how to, plus money is never really an issue with Chris around, you don't get the last name Cash for nothing. So if it wasn't about the money for Bill then what was it about? the thought of women ran into to Billy's head as it does from time to time on a daily basis, maybe some people were only in this for the right to brag to all the single ladies at the bar after the event, "Who want's to get in the sack with the guy who just out wrestled eighty-five other dudes?" That seemed like a sentence that could cause some majoring pantie dropping in the club, however women were kind of a sore subject for Billy at the moment, it was only a couple of weeks ago, on Christmas day no less, that the woman he was ready to give the rest of his life to crushed his heart by uttering the worst two letter word in the history of mankind.]

Billy Dork:"No!"

[Billy screamed as he finally jumped back up to his feet, his eyes darting toward Chris who doesn't seem to be to concerned by Billy's loud tone.]

Chris Cash:"No what?"

[Billy shakes his head.]

Billy Dork:"No, i can't just remember what winning this match will mean for me, because i don't know what it would mean Chris."

[Chris just smiles and nods at Billy.]

Chris Cash:"Yes you do."

[Billy stares back at Chris a little confused.]

Billy Dork:"Really?"

[Chris nods once again.]

Chris Cash:"look Bill, your not selfish like most of the rest of the guys in this match, it's not about the money or fame for you, heck it's not even about the amount of tail the winner of this match is sure to pull for you, which frankly is surprising to me based on your track record Bill, no you see your in this match for reasons i don't even get, you have noble reasons for entering this match whether you realized it when you signed yourself up for this match or not, subconsciously you knew the reason Bill, you see Bill you joined this match to prove yourself right, to prove you made the right choice five months ago when you signed that contract for the Universal Wrestling League, you joined this match to prove that you are indeed in the best company there is today Bill, and winning this match will prove that, you see Bill this match is comprised of the best of the best of any wrestling company that means anything today, and for you to walk into this match carrying the weight of the entire UWL on your back, and to walk out this last man standing will solidify UWL's dominance in professional wrestling today, so the next time someone asks you why Bill, why you threw your name into this match and what winning would mean to you, you tell them it's the same reason you walked into the UWL after a three year hiatus, you tell them it would mean the same thing that everything you've been working toward in the UWL has meant, you tell them it would mean bringing honor to the company you love Bill, you tell them it would mean bringing honor to the Universal Wrestling league."

[Bill simply looks down at the ground for a moment, processing the information just given to him before his head pops back up revealing a huge peppy smile on his face.]

Billy Dork:"Your absolutely right Chris! I get it now, i know why I'm here, I'm here to bring honor to the greatest promotion in wrestling today, thanks Chris but now I've got a lot of work to do."

[With that Billy walks out of the apartment, seeming to be in a hurry his mind racing a thousand miles an hour leaving Chris in the room alone to digest his own words, words he obviously doesn't seem to believe himself but have seemed to spark a fire in his friend, a fire he seemed to need at the moment, and that's all Chris could really do, light the spark and hope it burns through the competition, still Chris felt a little bad about his most recent bullshit rant, obviously no one in their right mind would buy Chris's rant as an actual realistic goal, most people in this match probably just care about the money, or fame, certainly not about the company their representing,but Bill wasn't like most people...And that seemed to be his edge.]

Chris Cash:"God i hope he wins."

[With that the scene fades.]

Scene 2: All The Right Reasons.

[The scene reopens once again on everyones favorite hero Billy Dork, this time he is in the backstage area of the UWL Arena in Knoxville Tennessee, Billy is clad in only his pink wrestling spandex as another man stands to the right of him with a microphone in his hand, the man to the right of Billy is a very scrawny nerdy looking man.]

"So remind me again why you needed me here Bill?"

[The man asks in an irritated tone as Billy turns his attention away from the camera in front of him and toward the man to his right as he smiles.]

Billy Dork:"Simple Kip, I watch some of the promos people put up to hype themselves going into the Survive and Conquer match on January twenty-ninth and realized that for the most part, they were all the same, them talking into a camera about what their going to do while hoping the viewing audience didn't pass out from boredom, so i said to myself how can i be different from them, and then it hit me, why not have the greatest backstage interviewer in the business today in Kip Anderson, interview the greatest wrestler in the business today, Billy Dork, for the biggest match in the business today, Survive and Conquer."

[Kip smiles appreciative of Billy for calling the compliment.]

Kip Anderson:"Well since you put it that way, I'd love to do this for you Bill."

[Billy smiles and nods as he turns his attention back to the camera in front of him and gets into "Interview Mode".]

Kip Anderson:"So Bill, what do you think sets you apart from the other eighty-five guys in this huge battle royal match?"

Billy Dork:"Billy Dork is an enigma Kipper, an unknown, like most people that are coming into this match, in fact do you mind if i share a little story?"

[Kip just shrugs, knowing full well he'll hear the story rather he wants to or not as Billy continues.]

Billy Dork:"You see Kip in October of two thousand and eight, I Billy Dork walk into the APW halls as it's newest member, and after a whopping three matches, I Billy Dork walked back out of the APW halls and into obscurity, now I'm sure if you ask any active member of the APW roster, or any fan in attendance of Billy Dork's APW career you'll get the same response "Billy who?" And do you know why that is Kipper?"

[Kip shrugs once again, not exactly sure where Billy's going with all of this.]

Billy Dork:"It's because i never made an impact, i never had that moment that stuck in everyones minds, and i blame myself for that Kipper, i was young and faded under the glow of the big lights, but it looks like fate has brought me back here to do the one thing i couldn't three years ago, make an impact on the wrestling world, not just UWL no, the whole wrestling World Kipper, and i plan on doing that by winning the Survive and Conquer match not for me, but to proudly represent the UWL. So you ask me what sets me apart? Drive Kipper, I'm the hungriest dog in the fight at this moment."

Kip Anderson:"And what exactly is Driving you? i mean what is your motivation besides making an impact?"

[Billy's smile widens as Kip asks the question.]

Billy Dork:"I thought you'd never ask, you see unlike others who decided to throw their name in the hat for this huge match, I'm not in it for the fame, I'm not that big a fan of the spotlight to be honest, and I'm not in it for the money, i mean honestly i wouldn't know what to do with that much doe, no you see I'm here to make an impact alright, but not an impact for Billy Dork, i entered this match to be the last man standing and to prove to everyone in the Wrestling world that UWL is the dominant organization in wrestling today, not APW, not SCW, not anywhere else but the Universial Wrestling League. As you know Kip I've put the UWL on my back since day one, and since day one I've done everything in my power to bring honor to the company i work for Kip, and this is just another step, you see Kip the reason i will win this match is because I'm not in it for me, no this is much bigger than me, I'm in it for all the right reasons, so obviously i can't lose right?"

[Billy looks toward Kip for confirmation who seems a little concerned.]

Kip Anderson:"I don't know Bill, i mean i don't think anyones just going to throw themselves over the top rope because your in it for all the right reasons, heck I'm sure everyone in this match could find some way of justifying their reasoning for entering it."

[Billy shakes his head seeming a little frustrated by Kip shooting him down.]

Billy Dork:"You always gotta shoot me down don't you Kip? Of course everyone thinks their in it for the right reasons Kip, otherwise they wouldn't even bother entering, but what sets me apart from the rest of the pack is the fact that my reasons are unselfish, I'm not competing for me, I'm representing the UWL Kip, I'm going in there with a whole company a company that i love, and I'll put that company on my back and come out on top thus bringing deserved respect to the best and most underrated company in the wrestling business today. You see Kip i look around at the APW and the SCW and various other places and i see all the respect they've gotten from places like the CWC, and wonder where's the respect for the UWL, where's the acknowledgment for the company that houses the best wrestlers in the business today? nowhere to be found Kip, that's why i threw my name into the proverbial Survive and Conquer hat, to show everyone what the UWL is packing, to show everyone that the UWL is the dominant wrestling federation, and it is for that reason Kip that i can't lose, that i won't lose."

[Kip nods once more, taking in Billy's words before asking another question.]

Kip Anderson:"So then what about the other members of the UWL roster representing them in this match, Robb Daniels and Jacob Davies, what if they win?"

[Billy scoffs seeming a little upset at the mention of Davies and Daniels names, particularly the mention of Daniels.]

Billy Dork:"While i mean to take away nothing of either man's wrestling ability of which both men have a lot, you know as well as i do that men like Robb Daniels are just the kind of men i walked into the UWL to purge it of, cowards who would try any underhanded tactic to get a win, they are not the kind of people worthy of representing such a prestigious Company Kip, and as far as I'm concerned Davies is in that same boat, complaining about how he deserves more respect because he's the TV Champ, guess nobody told him respect is earned not giving, personally i hope both men are in that ring the same time I'am just so i can personally eliminate them and symbolically purge the UWL name of their evil ways."

Kip Anderson:"Well what about the multiple APW stars in this match, I'm sure they'd love to do their company justice by winning this match."

[Billy's smirk returns as he speaks again.]

Billy Dork:"I'm sure they do Kip, the only problem is that their lacking in one vital piece of the puzzle, you see Kip their already here, in what most people consider the biggest stage of all and rightfully so, I mean this is the only company with the money and status to put on a match of this magnitude, but it is for that reason that they lack hunger, you see they lose nothing by being eliminated from this match, it's not like their going to get fired, no they'll have simply lost one match and still maintain their status in the grandest stage of all, which it what sets me apart from that particular group of men Kip, I'm hungry, i have to win this match Kip, i have to prove that APW doesn't rule the wrestling world, but rather the UWL is the best, the UWL rules Kip, not APW, not SCW, and not anyplace else, and come January twenty-ninth everyone will realize that fact, until then I'll be getting ready and i hope everyone else in this match is fully prepared, because I'm coming hungry Kip, and I'm coming for all the right reasons, see you January twenty-ninth boys."

[Billy turns toward Kip and gives him a pat on the back before exiting the scene as Kip takes his place right in front of the camera.]

Kip Anderson:"Well there you have it wrestling fans, Billy Dork says that for the sake of the Universal Wrestling League he can't lose January twenty-ninth, and i personally hope he doesn't."

[With that the scene fades.]

Epilogue: The Night No One Will Forget

The scene opens once more to a backdrop of the Universal Wrestling League banner.

"Although Billy Dork's last APW appearance was a night to forget, it is apparent that January twenty-ninth will be a night that will live in infamy..."

The banner is replaced by an image of Billy Dork locking in the Dorker Leaf on UWL's Evan Caravelle as he passes out in pain.

"And Billy hopes to make it his night...Billy hopes to make it UWL's night...Billy hopes to make it a night no one in the Wrestling universe will ever forget....The night UWL proclaims dominance over the Wrestling world...January Twenty-ninth will indeed be an unforgettable night..."

The voice cuts out and is replaced by the sound of many voices chanting hysterically.

"UWL!...

UWL!...

UWL!

"January Twenty-ninth will be the night no one forgets the Universal Wrestling League.

[Reaver]

APW presents: Survive & Conquer

ABRIDGED!!

: It all happened so fast, everything went to crap…
: It all happened so fast, everything went to crap...

: It’s like everyone’s sense of morals just disappeared…
: It’s like everyone’s sense of morals just disappeared…

: The town becomes gripped in fear; dark times. The city needs protection…
: The town becomes gripped in fear; dark times. The city needs protection…

: The animal that lives by night; to take out the city trash....I am....THE PRICK!!
: The animal that lives by night; to take out the city trash....I am....THE COON!!

The scene cuts in as the two shadowy figures stand on the rooftops overlooking the city, one in a blue bug costume (pssssst it’s Johnny Knuckles), one in a cheap raccoon hunk of shit. They stare at each other with content and anger. Finally, The Prick kicks the coon in the balls as he falls to the ground in pain.

The Prick: Next time, don’t try to steal my act ya lil’ fucker.

The scene temporarily fades.

(Que entrance music here)

The scene re-opens as a pair of people are heard arguing on the city block below. The Prick moves in closer to hear what the argument is all about.

”Merry Tarvin”: C’mon, just smell this rag and tell me if it smells like ether or not….

“Tally Salfourd”: Oh please hunny, like I’m dumb enough to fall for that twice in a row.

“Merry Tarvin”: Ok fine. So shall we get down to business?

“Tally Salfourd”: Yea. Ya wanted the happy ending right?

“Merry Tarvin”: Only if it comes with an eggroll and fortune cookie….HA HA!

“Tally Salfourd”: Whatevah’ hunny. Let’s just get it over wit’.

The two walk into a nearby dark alley. You can’t see what’s going on but the noises are pretty evident. The rummaging of trash cans, stray cats in the backround, bottles being moved.

”Merry Tarvin”: Oh yea…..wait…..what the hell? You diggin’ through trash cans again on MY dollar?

“Tally Salfourd”: Um……sorry?

“Merry Tarvin”: Wait! Did ya hear that? What the suck!!?

SPOOORRRRKKKK!!!!

There’s a huge crash in the alley as paper begins to fly everywhere. Some noise rustling around and some punches echoing through the streets. Finally after a few moments the noise, ”HEE HAW!!” is heard then silence. Knuckles finally walks out from the dark alley dragging both of them by the scruff of their collars. He drops them off at the sidewalk and wipes his hands.

The Prick: Ahh yes. I won’t allow lushes and deviates in MY Survive and Conquer tournament. AWAY!! WHOOOOSH!!!

Knuckles runs off down the street with his hands facing in front of him making a noise as if he is flying. (but failing at it.) The scene fades off temporarily again but fades back in to a busy street corner downtown where a vendor is selling his business to the people passing by midafternoon.

”Ester Lonley”: Jerky Heah! Get yer’ jerky ‘n’ Donkey Punch heah! It’s the refreshing drink that HITS the spot! (HA thought I’d forget huh? I still snuck it in).

“JC Bates”: I’ll take some. I can’t live without this shit. It’s almost addictive in nature.

“Ason “Sausage” Jandrews”: Right! I usually eat this instead of bacon with my toast.

“Ester Lonley”: Hey yous’ guys ready for Survive and Conquer this Sunday?

“JC Bates”: You bet. I got my belt buckle and ten gallon hat ready WHOO HOOO!!

“Ason “Sausage” Jandrews”: I can’t wait to show off my new moves. The Breakfast Bender….The Sunny Side Up Slam…..and the be end of all moves, The French Toast 450!!

“Ester Lonley”: Ya, I used to be legendary. Now I sell bullshit to people in hopes that I could have just one memory. So any yous’ want anything to go with yer’ jerky?

? ? ?: JUSTICE!!

“Ester Lonley”: Huh? What the buck?

SPOOORRRRKKKK!!!!

Out of nowhere, Knuckles bum rushes all three guys and proceeds to put, what he thinks is, the smack down on them. He elbows the vendor in the mouth while mule kicking both patrons. (not at the same time) He grabs one by their head and rams it against the nearby building. He grabs another, picks him up into a gorilla press slam and throws him on top of a parked car. The Vendor gets up and swings at Knuckles who ducks under and yells, HEE HAWW!! and lays him out with a punch to the back of the head. He picks the guy up and throws him over hit own cart for no particular reason.

The Prick: This is a long and tough tournament this year. I hope…..I know I’ll survive. AWAY!! WHOOOOOSHHHH!!!

The scene fades out temporarily again and fades back in as some punk kid is dancing in front of his television in an apartment nearby. It turns out he is playing “The Michael Jackson Experience” and on the “Beat It” stage……and dancing as terribly as any white guy could dance. (imagine that)

”Daz Chillinger”: Oh man, I just can’t keep up. I’m so tired. I hope this helps my training; it worked well for Johnny Knuckles last year. Although he is a way better wrestler than I’ll ever be and was training to a different stage, I have such high hopes yes I do. There’s not a care in the world and with a pie in my eye, and a star in the sky….I can’t lose. (that’s not pie) I need to take a break though. I’ll use my “other” training video……..

He decided to cool down with a different video game since he is working “so hard” for this tournament. He pulls out his “Michael Jackson Experience”, puts it back into its case and puts it back on the shelf. He looks around and finds his other training game, “The David Carradine Experience”. He locks the door, grabs some rope which happens to be right next to it, (how convenient) and puts the game in. Meanwhile, he sets up the rope overhead and unzips his pants. I don’t think I need to go any further as to what he is doing do I? (god I hope not)

”Daz Chillinger”: Aww yea….cmon’ almost…….ccaaann’tt breathe…but……almoooossstttt…..ttthhheereee……What the luck!!!!

SPOOORRRRKKKK!!!!

Knuckles smashes his way through window, like Lynn Hayes from the mod squad, and throws a killer elbow across his chin. It’s easy to reach since “Daz” was standing on a table with a rope around his neck. He slams his head against the wall then throws him through the window, for no reason whatsoever. Thankfully it’s the first floor and not that high.

The Prick: Oh that’s just nasty…….AWAY!! WHOOOOOSSSHHHH!!!!

Knuckles “flies” off again as the scene fades.

And Now For Something Completely Different!!!

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Knuckles: I thought I’d take a second to reflect upon what’s happening. For those who don’t know, or don’t care, I am the sickest fucker in this thing. For those of you who DO know me, I am probably the creepiest guy in this thing. Ya see; I have the most unusual training methods. I like to do things on a very unorthodox level. It helps keep ya on your toes ya know? To expect the unexpected. Don’t believe me? Ask anybody in APW what it is that I do. They will look at you and say that Johnny Knuckles is nothing more than clown shoes….and they’d be right. I like it that way. People look at me and wouldn’t ever guess that I would be a threat which is perfect because when I prove to them that I truly AM a threat, they then second guess themselves and their own judgments.

Right now you’re looking at me with complete and utter disgust and confusion; I know ya are. How could a guy like me who is this weird and strange be that much of a threat? Take a look at my past accomplishments. First off I’d like to say that the past doesn’t mean shit. Nobody cares what I did “back in the day” but think about it for a sec. I’m a former world champ. HA who isn’t nowadays right? A multi time X-division champ, tag champ, mid-card champ or something or other and a dozen other accomplishments. What I AM famous for is being violent. Violence courses through these veins like a heroin addict’s next fix. It’s what I do and what I’m good at. You think I care about your feelings, intentions, or future endeavors? Being “hardcore” isn’t enough for me. ANYBODY can be “hardcore” these days. What I AM is violent, regardless of who might say otherwise and regardless of what you think.

Now, going back to the list of entrants, I notice a few things on there that may or may not be surprising. Sally, how you doin’ baby girl? I see you still pushing them “Sad Beginnings” onto people, giving hand jobs for cash. Wait! I wanna’ see more of you Sally!! *click* *click* *scroll down* *click here to see nude celebrities* *click* *Sally Talfourd’s Happy Endings* *click* So what’s the viral count now Sally baby huh? How many people have seen that hairy axe would of yours on the internet by now?

What’s a shame is how you’ve gone from beating top level talent and World Champion to being nothing more than another photo of Paris Hilton’s twat. Does anybody really care about you anymore? You used to be the most feared woman in APW, now you’re just the most feared snatch at Bangbros.com. You tried to regain that glory ya once had by teaming with Havok but that failed. Just like the matches ya had with Kash, just like the matches ya had with Gates. What happened back then? You claimed injury every time and now you’re back in hopes to get another couple hundred suckers to click that naughty link and snake $3.99 a minute from them. You’re fucking pathetic. Why don’t you claim injury now bitch? Claim injury now and bet me that I don’t beat you down in front of your horny watchers on live cam for free.

Then we have our old friend Mr. Lester Only or Level One for those who don’t…..care. What’s your bag man? You retire ‘n’ come back, retire ‘n’ come back. Like a ground hog who sees his shadow and runs back in. Must mean we have another 6 weeks of winter left in APW huh? Or maybe you too are just trying to claim the gory you once had. Ya know? Back before you lost to Gates, back before you lost to Biggs? Now I’m sure you can sit there and claim that at least you had glory which is totally true. But at least I’m not still stuck on “Level One” now am I? I’m not stuck trying to reach the long jump and grab the flag at the end of the pole, I’m not trying looking for the princess in another castle. I’ve already got that bitch laid upside down dripping with manly goodness. You may have been the True Expert Champion, “in your day” but your time is up and you’ve lost yet another life. Either retire and STAY retired, or I’ll be more than happy to retire you myself. Don’t think for one second that I forgot what happened last year Lester. Back when Dangertainment were free agents and we carried you and the rest of your lacky scum to the top only to drop us off on the next block. Look what happened because of us, more importantly, because of me. Ryan Ruckus won the mother fucker. I was the reason he kept from getting eliminated and moved on to throw your ass out and take it all home only to have you screw him out of it and send him packing. Some friend YOU are. You can’t even do shit for yourself, you have nothing left to show for it, and feel like your career has been wasted. Even right now; you’re at home watching last year’s Survive and Conquer match to the soundtrack of “Forever Young”.

Then we have our old friend Terry Marvin who, ironically, was also thrown off the top by Ruckus as well only to take second place with nothing to show for it except a mound of doctor bills and a handshake. How ya feelin’ bud? How’s that case of Donkey Punch I sent ya? Maybe now you can take second place twice in a row…..behind me. Keep it up bro and you too will be the refreshing drink that HITS the spot. Nobody deserves number two more than Terry Marvin cuz’ not only is he two in the entrant list, but he is number two cuz’ he is the shit……good luck my friend.

And Now For Something Completely Different!!!

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The scene reopens as a man is pushing a mop back and forth in some sort of porn shop back room where there are noises coming from nearby doors to rooms in which I really don’t wanna’ go into details about. The man pushing the mop notices a group of dirty foot prints where he had just mopped only to look up and see a shadowy figure standing in the distance.

“Ban Dochner”: Mop mop mop; all day long. Mop mop mop while I sing this song…..HEY!! what are you doin’? I just mopped there.

“Dacob Javies”: Sorry man, I just came out of one of the rooms. I was just whackin’ it to old footage of Ryan Ruckus. Hey I know you, you’re in the Survive and Conquer match too. How do you think you’ll win?

“Ban Dochner”: Fuck you that’s how…..

“Dacob Javies”: Fine if you wanna’ be that way. Uh, do ya hear that? WHAT THE RUCK!?

SPOOORRRRKKKK!!!!

Knuckles busts out of one of the rooms (don’t ask why he’s there) and slams the janitors head through the wall with his foot. He turns his attention to the other guy who tries to run away only to hear, ”HEE HAWW!!” and gets his body thrown to the ground with a hay maker punch to the back of the head.

The Prick: So Ryan Ruckus matches turns ya on eh? HA yea me too…..AWAY!! WHOOOOSSSHHHH!!!

The scene fades out then back in, yet again, only to find a group of old friends meeting up at the nearby park as they catch up on old times while feeding the animals nearby. The sun is starting to set as the group reminisce of the days of old.

”Sticky Ranton”: Oh my god, Abriel?

“Abriel Galigheri”: STICKY!! How ya’ been man?

“Sticky Ranton”: Well, you know me……I suck at big business decisions so I come down here to feed the ducks.

“Lian Braughlin”: I thought I’d find you down here. I know how much you love feeding the ducks.

“Abriel Galigheri”: I know right?!

“Sticky Ranton”: Things just aren’t the same in UWF now that you’re a free agent Lian.

“Lian Braughlin”: How’s Andy?

“Abriel Galigheri”: Tit’s just aint’ the same anymore man. He still loves his cannon though….bitches love cannons!

“Sticky Ranton”:….did you guys hear that? WHAT THE DUCK?!

SPOOORRRRKKKK!!!!

Out of nowhere, Knuckles bashes “Lian” from behind sending him to the ground. “Abriel” charges him only to catch a foot down his throat (yet again eh Gabe?). “Sticky” stands up only to get kicked in the balls on top of “Abriel”. “Lian” slowly makes his way up but looks over to see this shadow hovering over him like an eclipse. Knuckles nails him with a head butt then tosses their limp bodies over each other, for no particular reason whatsoever.

The Prick: So much for the Horsemen…HA. I’d still be undefeated in UWF I see…..AWAY!!! WHOOOOOSSSHHH!!!!

As Knuckles tries to “fly” away, a truck stops right in front of him and immediately ten heavily armored police men jump out of the back like the “A team” (more the B squad) but not nearly as cool and pull weapons out on him. A couple of them grab Knuckles from behind and pin him to the vehicle while trying to handcuff his hands behind his back.

The Prick: What the truck!?

Cop 1: You are under arrest for multiple counts of assault. We have witnesses saying that a man of your description has been running all over town beating people up for no reason.

The Prick: Witnesses? I aint’ done shit. How do you know it was me?

Cop 2: A man fitting the description of wearing, and I quote, “A blue costume with antenna hanging off the top yelling spork at people.”

The Prick: There’s hundreds of guys in this city doing that………uh, fuck me I guess you’re right. But I didn’t assault anybody.

Cop 2: Then what do you call all this property damage?

The Prick: I’m just training for Survive and Conquer this Sunday. Ya know? Wrestling?

Cop 1: Isn’t wrestling fake?

Cop 2: Then that means him assaulting people was fake as well.

The Prick: Uh, ya…..let’s go with that.

Cop 1: Well, we’re sorry to have bothered you.

The Prick: Um, ya…..just don’t let it happen again.

The cops unhand cuff him and help brush him off with their deepest condolences.

The Prick: Well, now I’m off to Survive and Conquer….remember to drink your Donkey Punch guys. AWAY!! WHOOOOSSSHHH!!!!

Cop 2: Jesus, that guy’s got some serious issues.

Cop 1: HA, no kiddin’……

Knuckles “Fly’s” off into the distant sunset as the scene fades.

Knuckles: Just a small step into the training mind of myself. Do you not see me as a threat yet? No? GOOD! This is where I excel because people, like most, will take me too lightly. You don’t see the storm coming and then it hits you in the back of the head. (HA get it?) Now that I’ve trained all day as my warm up, I can let you all in on a little secret. I have the one thing going into this match that nobody else on the entrant list has…..Purpose. What feeds your desire to win this match hmm? Fame? Fortune? Braggin’ rights? See, this match is just a stepping stone for me to get what I want and what I want is one more match to end this feud I have with my old pal Jason Kash. What I want is to really push the envelope and end this six year long hatred Jason and I have had for each other and what better way to glorify the culmination of this than to have the greatest match on APW’s grandest stage of them all by finally beating him? Rasslemania!

Winning Survive and Conquer means a lot more to me than any of you because winning it guarantees a title shot at the top spot. Since Kash WILL be champ after this show, I’d like to be the first guy to knock his dick down in the dirt get it? I know Jason inside and out, he won’t lose cuz’ I know his desires better than anybody, when he wants something…..he’ll take it. All the more reason to win Survive and Conquer. I have one hell of a ladder to climb just for revenge I know, but nothing is easy. The difference between me and the rest of you? While each of you “WANT” to win it, I “NEED” to win it. There IS no other way. I need it like Dan Bochner needs to learn to use the internet for other than porn and Wikipedia. DO SOME REASEARCH YOU LAZY PRICK! I need it like a junkie needs a fix, I need it like a burning house needs more gasoline….and I’ll hurt everybody and anybody to get it.

The mountain I have to climb consists of high class names like Ricky Stanton and Brad Jackson, Brian Laughlin and Keaton Saint. Many more but I only have so much time, I’m sure you’ve guessed. It’s damn near impossible for a guy like me to win….except the fact that I got a damn good entry number. Last year I started 14th and made it all the way to the final seven. Though that means jack shit here, it means I can outlast the majority of you. The one thing I can do better than everybody else is take a hit. Nobody has endured more pain in their life like I have. It’s in my blood to survive; I’ve done it all my life. From the streets where I ate out of garbage cans, to the matches with Brad Jackson where we fought in hellacious cells made out of light tubes and barbwire. That’s right, I’m talking about the Nasty 8 Tournament where I lost to Jackson. The machine himself.

How’s things been tin man? Still trying to find your way back to OZ and find that heart ya hand back in your prime? Don’t worry Brad, your lightning rod; Johnny Knuckles is here to take anything you got to throw at me. Just remember that I have home field advantage and a better draw over you. As for Stanton and Aligheri, don’t think I forgotten what your favorite flavor of insole is Gabe….MY SIZE 13W! Not to mention that Ricky’s style of wrestling is a mixture of Jazz and Funk….it’s called Junk!! And I don’t mind that Chaz Dillinger is in this match but he better clean his shit up first. I mean, there’s so much semen on his clothes from masturbating so much that his washing machine would legally be pregnant.

Being a survivor takes more than just strength and a quick wit. It takes heart that only I in this match have.

So while Sally Talfourd is starting up her web cam for you….

While Level One is trying to reach Leven Two….

While Dan Bochner is still pushing a mop….

While Terry Marvin is trying to reach second place….

While Ricky Stanton is trying to figure out why he isn’t so “Pretty” anymore….

While Gabriel Aligheri is trying to find a new flavor of defeat….

While Brad Jackson is trying to grease the gears to find his heart….

While Chaz Dillinger tries to Richard Gere himself….

While the people of UWL, WEW, WCF, SCW, GIW, FWA, VWF, NEW and PCW learn the rest of the damn alphabet….

While CJ Gates uses the Survive and Conquer tournament as an excuse not to defend his title….

While Johnny Knuckles tries to do something that ISN’T a parody….wait what?

I will be surviving. Just like I have survived, continue surviving, and will survive and I will have done it with dignity, honor, and respect….(shifty eyes) It will be then that you all see that the games I’ve played made me more of a threat than ever, you will all look up and realized that I, Johnny Knuckles......have conquered.

word count: 3958

[Aspen Chaud]

Surviving is Conquering

Being the best wasn’t ever a goal, it was a life style. Ever since she was born Aspen had gotten whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Usually it wasn’t through hard work, rather through by manipulating and conniving her way through any situation. When one of her teachers threatened to fail her, she used her resources to dig up dirt about that teacher and force him into passing her. There was never a time in her early life when she wasn’t the big shot in a room. When it was her friend’s party? She was the center of attention. When it was someone else achieving something? She was there to take it from them. But wrestling, wrestling was different. Things were not always given to her on a silver platter. In GIW she found that out the hard way on her very first day on the job when Blake Beckett turned her down and stripped her of the belt she’d just won due to her cheating to get it. Maybe that’s what got her hooked actually having to achieve something. For the first time in her life she would have to earn something and that’s exactly what she would do. Despite only being five foot one inches tall and in every match she’d ever had being the smaller opponent she found a way to win. Maybe some of the times they were less then impressive wins; perhaps even they would be considered shams. But for her this business gave her a sense of achievement that she’d never gotten in life. Though she was twenty two, it was her first job and though she had been a Cheerleader the positions were always given to her due to her father’s pull in most schools she ever went to. This was the job that she would love and this was the job that she would hold onto. Though she may not be known for her amazing work outs or practice. Heck to her sitting on the Galveston beach drinking margaritas was good enough. But in the ring that was when she could be crafty, that was when she could really figure out a way to win. Would she be able to use strength as a means for it? No. Would she be able to use height to her advantage? Not even close. Was she some sort of gifted athlete? Funny. Aspen was simply smart, she could figure out how to get a win by any means necessary. And that right there was what she used to make this career her passion and make it what she loved to do. But that very same reason is what made everyone hate her. The fact that she used things like partners, friends, and allies to her advantage got under everyone’s skin. An ongoing joke in GIW was that; Aspen Chaud alone was nothing but Aspen Chaud with her cronies was unstoppable. But while she was hated in GIW and the few places they’d travel to, she met a new challenge in the form of Survive and Conquer.

All of her career had been spent in GIW, from the very first day to the most recent. There wasn’t a Revolt that she was not terrorizing. But…for her being the best was not a goal it was a life style. Which meant that if she was challenged, she would take said challenge and make sure she achieved her goal. That’s why she found herself in the most daunting of matches, a match that was simply known as Survive and Conquer. The name alone should really give you a sense of what it was all about, the rules…well they were a daunting stretch of Fear Factor like challengers. First you’d start in a Royal Rumble type situation where eight six wrestlers would compete to be one of the four left standing. Then when that was done a Steel Cage would be lowered and the first three to exit the cage would then fight in a Street Fight where the first person pinned would be eliminated where finally you would compete in a Hell in a Cell Ladder match. If that’s not the definition of cruel, I honestly don’t know what is. The winner, if by then you could call them that would surely leave the building with help from others. That’s why Aspen Chaud did not seem like the likely front runner. After all her number was twenty nine out of eighty six. Not the worst but certainly not the best. And to top that off it was almost for certain that she would be taking a beating along the way, something her small frame would have a much harder time taking then most. She had further to climb then everyone else…but being the best was not a goal it is her lifestyle.

That’s why as she stood on the beach of Galveston, not being able to leave until after their Thursday Night Revolt show she had her camera set up and ready to go for a little interview for her Website. She didn’t have many fans, heck you could probably count them on one hand. But people still tuned in to see her and they still went on her website to see recent news or maybe a good old fashion Aspen melt down. But this time that was not the case instead we found her in a familiar place on the North Beach in Galveston, Texas laying back on a nice comfortable chair reclined back with an umbrella over her and a margarita sitting on the side table next to her. Wearing a red bathing suit, she seemed relaxed as sitting right across her belly was her ‘GIW Undisputed Championship’ the belt that signified her reign as the top star in GIW. But that was not her worry today, instead with the week off from GIW she was all focused on her upcoming showdown in Survive and Conquer a match she planned on winning.

ASPEN CHAUD
“You know I am sure a lot of you are tuning in watching me for the very first time. Getting a little scouting report on me for the upcoming Survive and Conquer match that has been so heavily hyped. When you bring together eighty six top flight wrestlers from around the world that’s going to happen. So I am sure you are pegging me off as the same old, same old…The little prissy rich girl with a bad attitude. And you know what...you’d be right. But the difference between me and those girls is that I don’t deny what I am. I am mean…I am calculating…and I am just a overall unlikable human being. I’m not the type to go around and pretend I am something more then that. I am just a girl fighting in a man’s world…AND SUCCEEDING. How many girls in this world are currently at the top of their company, as the CHAMPION? I honestly can’t name any. Because in this day and age women are supposed to be in their own separate little class. I don’t let that stop me, I never have. In my company GIW, I AM that entire show. If you watched even a single show you’d realize that I am the Main Star and everyone else involved…Is just my Supporting Actors. But I’ve proven myself in Galveston. And I have defeated just about everyone there is, and that’s why when I was told by Management that there was a little event going on over in Florida. I just had to enter my name and get involved. The motivating factor in that decision was the fact that so many of my fellow GIW stars decided to come. Stars like Faith Simpson, Tony Miranda, Alex Castellanos, all people I have defeated in the last month. They all joined up thinking they could come around here, dodging me and get a big achievement on their record. After all this is a very prestigious event and you see I am a competitive girl, and I want all the accolades to be mine. In GIW I was a former Women’s Champion, Tag Team Champion, and a three time Undisputed Champion. I have won every big belt there is to win in my company and have even won similar tournaments like our Sole Survivor match up. But this event, it just had something…something that intrigued me. Not often do you get the chance to look across the ring and look around the ring and see this MANY stars crowding it and participating all at once. This right here is a chance of a life time, it’s a chance to go ahead and engrave your name in the history books even further. And you want to know what the part I like best about it all? The part that really just makes me…want to do this thing so badly? Well the fact that there is eighty five others stars in the match. Which means that I can make eighty five other human beings look up to me and say that I AM THERE SUPERIOR.”

This brought a big chuckle from her, what some might find as just big talk Aspen found amusing. Just thinking about eight five other stars going home that night in disappointment brought a smile to her face as she took a long little while to think about it until she broke her silence to continue.

ASPEN CHAUD
“I want that recognition; I want my name to be on the tongues of every superstar and every company. This is a chance for my name to grow into a global phenomenon as they tell their friends that I beat them and then their friends tell family and then sooner or later the entire world knows that at the end of the night there was only one star left standing with that title of the Survive and Conquer winner. I’ve had my fair share of victories down in GIW but due to the efforts or lack there of…of Blake Beckett I have seen my career stalled because every company around the world sees me as some sort of bad egg that just isn’t worth signing. I was once a hot commodity that now has seen her stock drop because of a Boss that can’t just let me have my way. This is my opportunity to prove that having EVERYTHING is worth it for all these companies. What type of person is the world looking for now days? They don’t want that typical buff, uncharismatic, idiot like they once were. No, no, no they want a strong and powerful woman that can do it all. That’s what the people want these days, they want me. Because I am…perfect. I am charismatic which can hook the viewers in. Let’s face the facts I am a pretty face, so I won’t scare of the viewers like Johnny Rebel. I saw a picture of him and I thought it was a before pictures for a burn victim and that the after picture had just been ripped off. But I digress, I have the look that makes people tune in. And then I am smart, just ask that Level One guy just how much it can hurt you being less intelligent. I am a business savvy girl; I know what the people want. And that’s why I have begun to realize that being the poster girl for GIW just isn’t enough. You see this world has always needed that face that would get the image and stigma away that this wrestling thing is for roided up losers like Seth Black. No you see they need to get past all of that and realize that there is a lot of good. And that not every girl is as slutty as Sayge Jemson and that we aren’t all a bunch of dim-witted idiots like Johnny Knuckles. There is a good in this business and that good starts with me. That’s why we not to stop this perception that we all must be like that and let me assume the mantle as the STAR OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING!”

Aspen sits up a bit posing for the camera as if it was a presidential spot for a TV show using that little smile to appear as though she really cared about the business past herself any how.

ASPEN CHAUD
“But in order for me to do any of this, I have to go out there and prove myself in this huge match up. Because if I don’t back it up in the ring then I am no better then Alyssa Casteele…Just a pretty face. So that’s why I am here tonight, to further this business. I may not be the most liked star but really deep down I have the best for everyone at heart. If I become the poster girl, maybe Sally Talfourd can stop dressing so funny and actually get something that wasn’t already a trade in. This business needs my help to save it from suffering and what better platform then this very event emanating from Florida? You see because alone we may not get worldwide attention. But with stars from around the world, all of them bringing the news back to their company we can change this business for the better. This economy has hit us all hard, well not really me. But I am sure a lot of you are suffering right now, word has it Dan Bochner had to start living in Kurt Noble’s chin. We have a chance at Survive and Conquer to make a change for the better. That change will come courtesy of yours truly when I go on to defeat every other superstar and officially become not only the most charismatic, not only the prettiest face, and not only the smartest…but also the most talented star with out a doubt. That change can officially begin…”

Again she drifts off into a trance thinking about it all, imaging herself climbing the ladder and winning this thing standing tall above all the other stars who stand beneath her. When she comes back she brushes some hair out of her eyes and then continues.

ASPEN CHAUD
“Now I know what you are all thinking right about now, how could little ol’ me win this thing right? Well the simple truth is that I am the best bet. While I didn’t pay much attention in class I remember a long time ago when I was in first grade we had a guy bring all sorts of weird wild life to the school. Birds, reptiles, all the sort were there for us. And I recall every kid wanting to touch the Porcupine or the Snake. But you know what one I was most fascinated with? The Chameleon. All the other animals had things they could attack you with; fangs, claws…whatever. But the chameleon it’s only real attack was to sit back and do nothing. All it did was blend in with the background and hide. You see I am not the biggest person in the match; in fact I am probably by far the smallest. Does a match where you are supposed to throw other guys…giant guys really favor me? Generally no. But when you are like me you realize that the amount of eliminations doesn’t matter. Sure you might feel good about yourself, knowing that you are crushing people’s dreams. But just like the chameleon sometimes the best course of action is…no course of action. Twenty nine…and no I am not talking about the amount of pounds Brandy could afford lose. No I am talking about the number I have been dealt at Survive and Conquer. That means that there is going to be a whole lot of other superstars that enter the ring after me. Some like Keaton Saint who are just going to be there to eat up space. This does not scare me, because I realize that it’s only a minor set back. I plan on making sure that nobody even thinks about me. I’ll hide…I’ll run…I’ll do whatever it takes to get out of harm’s way and when it’s all said and done my biggest advantage will be just blending in. Just like that little chameleon…”

Aspen chuckles to herself enjoying her trip down memory lane as she takes another sip of that margarita and then sets it back down her title the entire time sitting on her waist just for show.

ASPEN CHAUD
“I could be generic and run through everyone in the match but that would just be lame. I had to flip through the entrant lists pictures just to come up with half the jokes I’ve come up with. There is a lot of people that I could talk about, I could mention a great number of them. But see I don’t respect losers. That’s why other then a few off handed jokes Keaton Saint and Kurt Noble are not going to get any of my time. They are just…fillers. But you see I did do some research this past week and I skipped over all those fillers and I went straight to the source, APW the one company that has more representatives then my own in this thing. If I said that I even bother watching the show when I came down and ruined everything that would be a lie. I really don’t have a clue the talent level, of any of the stars here. But I always look to find someone at the top…The one that is truly the big dog as I like to call myself. In my company I hold the title of ‘Undisputed’ best which means I am without a doubt the top of the line. Well when I looked through APW, I found that the man holding that title was CJ Gates. Apparently he is a well dressed high flyer, which I prefer to call a glorified stunt man. And when I looked at him and I looked at what he’d done I realized that this might be easier then I thought. If THAT guy is the best? Then clearly the rest of the heap isn’t that great. Any company that has a champion from North Dakota is clearly grabbing from the bottom of the barrel. That’s why I don’t fear these guys, that’s why I am not worried about what they are capable of. I am only worried about myself and what I do. At the end of the night, I’ll be one of the final four you can count on that and from there…Well that’s where I am set.”

No shortage of confidence from Aspen in this one as she lets out a smile, why she would possibly think she had an advantage in a Steel Cage Climb Out would confuse most.

ASPEN CHAUD
“From there it’s not about Conquering. It becomes about Survival. All I have to do at that point is let the other three go to battle and pick and choose my spot to get out of the cage and escape. Then in the next round there will be three of us in a Street Fight. I am not some sort of savage so I wouldn’t want to do much in this any how. I’ll just lay back and let the other two fight it out and when they eliminate each other and only one is left. They will be left tired and beaten from all the fight and I will exit the Cell and climb the ladder to victory. Because I am not here to be some sort of hero and battle my way to victory. I AM HERE TO WIN. And that’s just what I will do, because that is after all what I always do.”

With that Aspen smirks and now raises her title belt onto her shoulder, not because she didn’t like where it was. Simply to show it off to all those in GIW and all those outside of it, after all gold was the universal language.

ASPEN CHAUD
“I know the stars from GIW and I know I can beat each and everyone of them. But standing by my side will be my Best Friend Forever, Alexis Terry. I am not afraid to say I love her, she has been a near and dear friend to me and we have conquered GIW together…Both winning gold and both slaying the other stars in this match. Alexis enters about twelve people behind me, so I will be waiting for her in the ring and the two of us will find our way to the finals. In the perfect world, the two of us would be the final two in this thing. And then I’ll climb that ladder and get the win and then we can share the spoils of it all as true friends. After all I do realize that the winner gets half a million dollars. Sure I could provide it to the Kurt Noble fill the gap in my chin foundation of America but instead I think I’ll keep it and split it with my bestie right down the middle four hundred thousand for me and a hundred thousand for her. My fellow roster mates like Alex who drew five, will probably be out before I get there. Alioth Starre my old enemy will be the twenty third in and the twenty third out and then I’ll make my entrance and win this thing. Because as I have said time and time again, this isn’t about the money…this isn’t about just that name of the event…No this is about proving to everyone that without a doubt I am the perfect superstar and that’s something that will be undisputed.”

Aspen points to the name of the belt on her title with a grin on her face, finding her little set up words to be pretty snazzy.

ASPEN CHAUD
“Being the best isn’t a goal, it’s a LIFESTYLE. And that’s why winning this is not some fantasy in my head, it’s just pre-planned reality. I am going to be the victor, I am going to climb that ladder and at the end of the night everyone will look up to me. From CJ Gates to Alex Castellanos and every person in between. I may be small, I may be the underdog, I may even seem like just a little pretty face for filler. But by the end of the night you are all going to be like the bee that used its stinger…The eagle with clipped talons…While I stand as the Chameleon that ensured my own victory at any means. This isn’t about conquering anyone it’s all about surviving. And that’s why I will be the one that walks out as the two thousand and twelve Survive and Conquer victor. I am Aspen Chaud and right now a lot of you may only know me just a little bit more. But soon…soon you’ll know me as the face of the new era of professional wrestling. And it all starts tonight as I grow from independent star to the name on the tongues of every wrestling fan in the world. You may hate me, but I don’t really care. Because at the end of the night when I am declared the winner you can all…KISS…MY…”

With that she finishes her signature quote blowing a kiss to the camera as she taps her belt once more before leaning forward and grabbing the camera spinning it around and hitting the off button as the video ends and now all that’s left to do is play the waiting game as she and the other eighty five stars await the match that could make them all famous while inflicting serious injuries all at the same time.

[Scott Matthews]

Simcoe County Championship Wrestling has only got two participants in this year’s Survive and Conquer match, Leon Stone and Scott Matthews, with both men having been drawn two entrants that some would love and others with hate. Leon Stone will be entering the contest at number eighty six, having all the other warn out competitors before him as he’ll enter the battle the freshest, where as his counterpart Scott Matthews has been added into the match right at the very beginning, number one, if he has any chance of surviving he’ll have to battle eighty two others to reach the final stages of the match. With everything mounted on these two superstars against some of professional wrestling’s finest athletes, what are the chances of Scott Matthews reaching the final four, what advantage does the number eight six entry hold if any, will Simcoe County Championship Wrestling be represented with honour with these battle hungry young competitors or is it a case of them just making the numbers up.

Survive

A young Scott Matthews arrives home from school on a brisk spring evening, nothing in the world could trouble him as he chucks his school stuff in the corner so he could play on his computer console, it didn’t strike him as odd that his mother wasn’t there to greet him like usual. He continued to play late into the evening before he headed downstairs to see why he wasn’t called for dinner, could he be in trouble for not doing something because usually he’d get the silent treatment for doing wrong, Scott steps down the last step to see the living room drowned in darkness. Concern begins to fill his body as he steps through the living room and pushes the kitchen door open, inside his mother was sitting at the kitchen table, weeping with used tissues scattered across the table. Her head jerks up to see her young son standing there, looking very concerned as he begins to walk over, she tried to wipe the tears away but seeing him sit down next to her makes her more emotional.

“What is wrong, mum?” Scott asks, trying to calm his mother down. She looks into his face and smiles as best she could. “You look just like your father”. Scott always heard that statement whenever relatives came over; he always looked away trying not to acknowledge that fact, even thou he is a spitting image of him.

Scott wraps his youthful arm around his mother shoulder “Come on, Mum, what is wrong?” Scott notices that there is a letter underneath his mother’s hand, the top of the letter he notices that the icon was from the local hospital, looking more concerned than he was before and a sinking feeling deep inside. “Does it involve that letter?”

She nods her head and slides it over to Scott, she grabs another tissue to cover her face as she weaps, Scott unfolds the letter and begins to read the contents of the letter. The words that stand out the most that literally stops Scott’s world is “Malignant Neoplasm”, better known as Cancer. He knew that his grandmother died early in his life through the dreadful disease, now he’ll have to face this with his mother battling the same condition, this will be a true test for Scott and his mother to try and battle the unthinkable and come out the other side victorious.

Through the next year his mother received treatment, had excessive operations, losing her hair because of the radiation that is now in her body. Scott’s life has been focused and dedicated to being with his mother, his schooling did slide through lack of attendance but he is a clever kid and although he was behind in class, during the times he sat by his mother’s side he managed to catch up through countless hours of studying. It seemed his mother was winning the battle, results going her way for once as it looked like she’d be in remission, Scott for the first time in a long while thought that together they’d conquer anything. That was until the morning near Scott’s birthday, Scott had arrived at the hospital to supposedly greet his mother after a lengthy treatment, but there was something wrong, she wasn’t there. He rushed to the clinic to see if she was late seeing the consultant, she wasn’t in the waiting room, Scott asks the receptionist to hear the grave news that she’d taken a turn for the worst and had been moved to another ward.

Scott rushes through the hospital until he finds the ward that has his mother in, she didn’t look well to say the least, attached to the oxygen with the heart rate monitor next to her, and he immediately drops his bag next to the bed and grips a hold of her hand. This cannot be happening to him, they seemed to have gotten through this but it has come back and Scott feels so helpless. The doctors and nurses come in to check on her, making sure she is comfortable; Scott chose not to go home but stay by her side. As soon as she stirred Scott’s heart skipped a beat as he looks at her, she looks towards him and smiles underneath the mask, pulling the mask off and saying very breathlessly “You should go home, Scottie”. He shakes his head reluctantly “My place is here, Mum. I am not leaving you”. She continues to smile, taking her hand away from his and placing it on his youthful face. “You have turned out alright, I am so proud of you!” She begins to cough as Scott reaches over and places the mask back onto her face. “you rest mum, just rest”

As the night goes on the worst scenario Scott could ever imagine, happens, as the alarm goes by her bed, the heart rate monitor slowly begins to slow down, nurses and doctors rush past the young boy, tears rushing down his face as he stands there motionless, helpless, there was nothing that could be done as the life of his mother goes before him. For many hours all Scott could do was sit in the corridor near his mothers ward and just sits there looking straight ahead, recollecting of all the memories the two of them shared before this tragic event, nothing brought them together more was their battle to fight this disease. As he sat there just looking ahead, he knows that this is the beginning of a new day for him, although he still has his dad he was nothing more than a business and money man, today was the day Scott Matthews learnt how to survive in this big wide world by himself.

Survival

Years after losing the one person who nourished and cared for him, his mother, Scott Matthews is now much more older and much more wiser having learnt to survive by himself. It had been a good week at high school, winning his amateur wrestling match in preparation for state finals. Scott and a few of his friends arranged to go out Friday night to celebrate and just party all night long. After taking a long shower, Scott shaves and puts on the fanciest clothes he has in his possession and heads out of the seemingly empty house. He jumps into his friends car, pulling a can of beer from the six pack and opens it up, clicking the can with his friends sitting in the back seat.

“Tonight is going to be a night to remember!” Scott shouts out over the top of the booming music “Tonight the boys are going to get their groove on and paint this town whatever colour we choose!” His friends lift there cans up in agreement as they set off into the town.

Being a Friday night means that all the single men and women are out, as well as the young guys and gals looking to have a good time, parking would prove to be a little hectic but finally they park up and head into the nightclub. With the dance floor packed, the music blaring out, drinks flowing from all areas, this is where the party would be at in the eyes of Scott and his friends. They manage to get a booth together with glasses of mixed spirits and lines of shot glasses set up by the bar staff, Scott and his friends drink and do shots with bursts of laughter and enjoyment.

Scott turns to his closest friend Bret “You know something” he leans closer so he’s talking into the ear of Bret “If I win my next match, I’ll be in the finals!” Bret looks at his tipsy friend and smile “You’ll be champion of this state, mate!” They embrace in a drunken hug as they continue to enjoy the night.

In the early hours of the morning, Scott and his friends stagger out of the club laughing and joking, a couple of the ladies blow kisses in the direction of Scott, his friends poke and make jibs towards him as they stagger towards the car. None of them are fit to drive but that doesn’t stop them getting into the car and setting off down the busy road, inside the car they’re all talking about some of the women they encountered and where they could continue the party, unbeknownst to them that the driver isn’t focusing on the road as the car swerves all over the road until it goes into the on-coming traffic, the driver looks in utter horror as the bright lights of a lorry is coming head first towards them, Scott and his friend’s brace themselves as the car swerves out of the way of the lorry, across onto the right side of the road before flying off the side of the road, not touching the embankment at all as it flies down, crashing onto the marshy land, the car rolls several times before crashing into an old oak tree.

The wheels continue to spin, smoke pours out of the bonnet of the car, glass scattered everywhere as well as metal pieces of the car. The passenger side door opens with a jerk, Scott Matthews face is crimson from the impact of his head on the dashboard, he pulls himself out with one arm as his other is broken, he crawls out onto the glass scattered grass, feeling his ribs to feel there isn’t many there, his knee seemed to be popped out of place, Scott cannot breath properly with blood filling his mouth. He feels like this is the end as everything becomes a blur, he cannot hear anything around him as it’s a constant ringing in his ears, all he can see is a small white light that seems to be getting bigger and bigger with his breathing becoming slower. His life flashes before his eyes seeing his mother once more, seeing their bond as it once was, watching his amateur career in wrestling bloom with his last match the forefront of them all. But something else happened to Scott which he didn’t expect, showing images of what could be in his future, changing from amateur to being a professional wrestler, raising a family, capturing championships and achieving accolades that he’s never imagined. The bright light slowly fades away leaving him staring up at the starry sky, his friends manage to get themselves out of the car and lay near him as the sound comes back into his ears, hearing the sound of sirens coming towards them with Scott completely oblivious to the here and now. He knows that once he has healed up and gets the all clear, he can focus on achieving his dream of becoming a professional wrestler. If he can survive the loss of his mother, if he can survive this then he can survive anything that is put before him from here on out.

Conquer

After leaving high school and being accepted into university, Scott Matthews wants to get the academic side of his education out of the way, but in his spare time and with the money he saved from work, he put it towards his wresting training. The wrestling school he chose trained him to the best of their ability, as much as he enjoyed and learnt, he needed to get the in ring experience to help his education in this profession. He applied many DVD’s to many local promoters who simply didn’t reply back, travelling out of state to seek promoters to view his DVD and hope that they’ll give him a chance, however that turned out to be the butt to everyone’s jokes. No one wanted to risk their time or part with their money in someone like Scott, a young up and coming wrestler with the height disadvantage most people consider vital for their promotions. But this did not stop Matthews in his quest to live his dream, travelling all the way up north to Canada, to the former National Wrestling Alliance territory of Simcoe County Championship Wrestling, their he’d seek an audience with the promoter and see if he was worthy of a shot to perform on their weekly show, even if it was in dark matches.

An SCCW representative met up with Scott in a local hotel, willing to listen to the young man, he sits opposite him with a few pieces of paper in hand. “So Mister Matthews what makes you think you’re capable of being an SCCW competitor?”

“My heart, my desire, my willing to learn and willing to wrestle whomever is placed before me” Scott replies without a seconds thought. “I know I’m an unknown compared to the people on the rostrum, however I feel I can be a secret weapon in the SCCW’s arsenal.”

“Oh?” the SCCW representative questions “How so?”

Scott smiles, leaning forward in his seat to get closer to him “I am young, I have just begun my long quest into this business, I have got an ability to wrestle with great flair and I will not quit!” he clears his throat “I know you don’t know this for sure since I haven’t had a professional match, however there is no harm in risking just one match on me, is there?”

The representative tilts his head and smirks “you have got guts kid, but are we as a promotion willing the splash the cash on some university drop out wanting to live the dream?” He writes some notes on the bits of paper in front of him before continuing. “You do no we don’t have a light heavyweight division, you will be amongst the heavyweights in the promotion”

Knowing that his height at five foot seven inches and weighting under two hundred pounds could prove problematic in his quest into professional wrestling, but this wouldn’t stop him trying to achieve it. “Like I said, I am willing to wrestle anyone you put in front of me, be it a giant or be it a teddy bear!”

“Well we don’t have any Teddy Bears on the roster” The SCCW mumbles “yet” before speaking clearer “It is going to be an uphill struggle, something you’ll need to conquer in order to progress in the company”

“Demosthenes once said that ‘Small opportunities are often the beginning of great enterprises’ I may need to conquer some of my opponents but it will be something I’ll relish!” he stands up “One day you’ll look back at this moment and you’ll say that you boldly took the chance on me and what a chance that was as he overcome great adversity and conquered the SCCW!”

The two of them shake hands as Scott Matthews has now got the platform to craft his abilities, Simcoe County Championship Wrestling, having got his foot in the door he shall not let it close as he ended the year without defeat. He heads into the new year knowing that he’ll have to prove to a lot of people that he is not a small time player in this sport, that he has got the potential to achieve so much more and prove to people inside the SCCW and out that he is a small man ready to go all out to conquer.

2012

So far for Scott Matthews two thousand and twelve has been a good learning curb, having defeated the SCCW legacy champion, debuting within the National Wrestling Alliance, gaining more and more notice with every match he wrestles and gaining notoriety from other competitors. He now stands in the middle of his training facility, knowing on the horizon is going to be the toughest challenge of his short professional career, wrestling 85 other stars in a battle to claim the Survive and Conquer 2012 trophy.

“ This is where the journey begins, where the quest commences and by the end of it all we’d peel the skin back to get to its core, becoming the winner of the survive and conquer match. It isn’t going to be like any rumble known to man since the amount of people involved, it is going to be hellacious and total destruction to everyone involved, especially myself, as you see out of the eighty six competitors competing in this contest, I am the first entrant, I will be in it from the start and that does not boa well for me, right? I mean I will have to last eighty five competitors, unlike someone entering at thirty five or fifty five who’ll not have that many to face, heck my Simcoe counterpart seems to be sitting pretty with the last entry belonging to himself. I don’t really see my number as being at a disadvantage, no, not at all. I see it as a challenge to overcome, a challenge to conquer. If by entrant eighty six comes in and I’m still in the contest then that makes me a better man than most shall think!”

“Look at the wrestler’s who have come and claimed the prestigious trophy before, Level One, Victor Hades and Ryan Ruckus, they have achieved a lot and to capture that sentiment is looking at what Level One has achieved in the APW, holding the undisputed championship four times. That isn’t a fluke, he did that because he achieved it, he is a wrestler who is someone to admire and in the same sentence hate as not many people can say they’ve achieved what he has, or will ever achieve what he has. One wrestler who has achieved a lot in the APW and gained a lot of respect around the wrestling community is CJ Gates, the current undisputed champion and challenger to the CWC heavyweight championship. I could list more like Brad Jackson the former SCCW and NWA Heavyweight Champion, Keaton Saint, Terry Marvin the list goes on as to what they have achieved and what they have done. But their achievements, there history in this sport does not help them in this contest, you can’t go “TAKE MY TITLE REIGN” and through it at someone or “I HAVE WON THIS BEFORE” and chuck that at someone, at the end of the day peoples achievements and accomplishments mean nothing as they battle it out in the ring against the familiar and unknown”

“Throughout my short existence on this earth I have learnt the tough way about how to survive, how to conquer, and it those life lessons that bring me to this point in time a better and stronger man than I could ever imagine. I do not wish anyone to live through the heartaches I have endured, and I know others have had far worse, but we learn from them and that is what I have done for many years now and I’m brining that knowledge into this match at the pay per view. Winston Churchill once said ‘Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.’ I am the number one entrant in this match and I am an independent star on a national wrestling show, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain! I have got the odds stacked up against me but I am not discouraged by it, I will enjoy the glory and the climb as I see how long I can last against all my opponents in this contest!”

“Socrates once said ‘Regard your good name as the richest jewel you can possibly be possessed of - for credit is like fire; when once you have kindled it you may easily preserve it, but if you once extinguish it, you will find it an arduous task to rekindle it again. The way to gain a good reputation is to endeavour to be what you desire to appear’. A lot of men and women have got a reputation to live up to but if they get ejected out of the match by myself, surely that cannot rekindle that monstrosity. Especially if the unknown goes to the final four with the chance to walk out with the established trophy, knowing that eighty-five men and women, lost to the unknown wrestler representing the small Canadian promotion. I will climb this mountain set before me with nothing to lose, my courage will be unquestionable, I’ve had dreams and I’ve had nightmares but I have conquered my nightmares because of my dreams! I will be classed as a dreamer but to dream is to act and I will act upon them in the Survive and Conquer match”

“Scott Matthews on paper is totally written off compared to the other names involved in this match, but as we all know, wrestling matches are not won on paper, they are fought valiantly in the ring and at the end of the match to capture the trophy and prizes, I will be the one no one knows about but hopefully by the end of the match they’ll take notice of Scott Matthews, that they realise that this young starlet is one for the future. Will I win this match, who knows, I do not predict the future, will I fight until the very end, will I look to set records by lasting the longest and most eliminations, you bet your life I will. I am the number one man in this contest against Terry Marvin, we start the match off, and history will be kind for me as I look to write it in this contest. I am going to evolve in this match and as we know, evolution cannot be stopped, it is physically impossible!”

After the last words are spoken from the young SCCW representative, Scott begins his long and hard training regime to get him prepared for the almighty challenge ahead of him, if he can last the longest in this contest then it will be a test of fortitude and longevity but for that will take its toll on him both physically and mentally. Scott leaves the training facility late into the night to get some rest before he does it all again in the morning. To become the Survive and Conquer winner is something he’d dare not think of as it may give him false hope, he’d rather look to be the most valiant and conquering man in the contest, setting the history books alight with new records. If he does make it to the final four then nothing can stop the passion, heart or desire to capture the prize and capture the respect of the wider wrestling community other than the small town in Canada and state of Texas.

When you hear the name Scott Matthews, you’ll say “who?” ...Asked the same question after the PPV, what will the response be then?

[Alexis Terry]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

DATE Thursday, January 19th, 2012
LOCATION Alexis Terry's Galveston Apartment

It was a rather chilly day in Texas, one that Alexis has yet to become accustomed to since moving from Atlanta to Galveston. Alexis was curled up in a blanket sitting on the couch having just gotten in from the chaotic edition of Thursday Night Revolt, Galveston Island Wrestling's weekly and flagship program. She was watching some stupid show on the history channel, something that had to do with turtles or something like that, Alexis was hardly paying attention to be honest. She had a lot on her mind. The Survive and Conquer match was only a mere week away. To say things were a bit crazy around Galveston would be an understatement. Everyone in the company wanted a shot and the few who were lucky enough to sign up and be accepted were all gunning to be the "hero" for GIW and bring home the crown of winner. It all sounded good but to be honest, Alexis could care less..

She doesn't need to win to prove she was the best female wrestler in the world, she already proved it. She won a World Championship in one of the biggest wrestling companies in the world. She won numerous awards in various magazines and publications, PWI even calling her the best female wrestling of the last decade in 2011. She set attendance records everywhere she wrestled. She even beat Trinity, considered a Total Wrestling Entertainment legend, for the Divas Championship in front of 40,000 people on pay per view, in the main event of the show. The match was a classic. A lot of people consider it the greatest match in TWE history. That, that was just the beginning.

At the tender age of 31, here she is, in Galveston, Texas, working for probably the top independent promotion in North America - Galveston Island Wrestling. Some would say that would be embarrassing, going from the glitz and glamor of wrestling on national television and staring in commercials and such to now working on the independent circuit. On the contrary, Alexis doesn't mind it at all. She, along with her best friend Aspen Chaud, is making GIW relevant and "mainstream". It's why they hired her and spent so much money on her contract, to help boost the roster. Now, here she sits..GIW Legacy Champion and about to compete in the biggest battle royal in the sport of professional wrestling and she is representing Galveston island Wrestling.

Alexis yawned and rubbed her face with her hand. It was getting late and she was just about to go to bed when the doorbell rang. Surprised, Alexis was hesitant at first. She figured it was probably just a neighbor who lost something or had a complaint about her telly being too loud. Alexis set the blanket on the couch, adjusted her t-shirt, and quickly checked herself in the mirror hanging above the sofa.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Who is it?"

No answer. Alexis slowly walked to the door and opened it, being careful as she peeked over the edge of the door to see who it was. To her surprise, it was none other than her ex-fiance, Austin Reynolds..

Austin smirked back at Alexis as he held a bouquet of various flowers. He looked relatively happy as Alexis stood with her hands on her hips. Austin, a former professional wrestler himself and the star of NBC's newest hit crime drama "PROOF". Austin, like Alexis, came from a wealthy family and was the kind of guy who was dangerously handsome. He wrestled in TWE and was the World Champion while Alexis was the Divas Champion the two were considered a power couple. However, Austin got out of the business when Alexis and Austin were both released the first time. He deiced wrestling was beneath him and was more for the "common" people.

Austin smirked as he held out the flowers for Alexis, however she was having none of it.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"What the bloody hell do you want Austin?"

AUSTIN REYNOLDS | DANGEROUSLY HANDSOME
"Oh don't lie. You missed me."

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"I missed you, huh? Goodbye Austin.."

Alexis turned around and began to shut the door. She wasn't dealing with this, not now. She was tired and started her training for Survive and Conquer tomorrow. Austin caught the door before it closed and slide inside, much to the dismay of Alexis who turned to face him with an angry look on her face.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Leave Austin. Now, before I call the police. I'm not dealing with this tonight."

AUSTIN REYNOLDS | DANGEROUSLY HANDSOME
"Look, I know your mad but come on babe. I messed things up but I'm better now. She meant nothing, it was an accident. You know I'm sorry.."

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"An accident? What, did she trip and fall naked onto your bed? Savannah was my best friend Austin, my best friend and you slept with her. Your a pig and you disgust me. It was so bad Austin, it cost me my job with Total Wrestling Entertainment, I got fired..we got fired over it. I was in the middle of the best run of my career and you had to go and mess it up!"

AUSTIN REYNOLDS | DANGEROUSLY HANDSOME
"Look, I know your mad but come on babe. I messed things up but I'm better now. She meant nothing, it was an accident. You know I'm sorry. Come to New York with me. The show is doing good, you would never have to work again. There even talking about picking it up for a second season."

Alexis sat down on her couch, plunged her face into her hands and was remotely silent for a few minutes. She "loved" Austin, keyword "Loved". Being financially secure was great and all, but she wasn't about to uproot her entire life once again for some guy. She was starting to actually like Galveston, who woulda thought huh?

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"No bloody way. My life is here, my job is here, Aspen is here. Austin - my entire life is in Galveston. Noway I'm moving again. You blew it."

Austin was taken aback by her answer. Alexis stood back up, walked over to the door, and slowly opened it..waiting for Austin to get the hint that it was time for him to go.

AUSTIN REYNOLDS | DANGEROUSLY HANDSOME
"So..your going to the throw all of this away for some wrestling company that runs shows in high school gyms? How are you going to support yourself wrestling for a couple hundred bucks a night?"

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Well if you would have done your homework Austin, I'll be perfectly fine. I make a lot more than a couple hundred a night, try a couple thousand. I also just wrote my first book that is sitting comfortably at number three on the new york times best sellers list. Oh, and I start shooting my own TV show tomorrow thank you. Not to mention, in a couple days I'm going to be half a million dollars American richer. Now please, get the blue hell out of my apartment."

"Your going to be sorry" was all Austin could mumble as he walked out of the room. Alexis smirked the entire time letting the cocky bastard know that she wasn't thinking twice about any of what had just went down. She shut the door and locked it. It was time to get some rest, tomorrow was a busy day!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

DATE Friday, January 20th, 2012
LOCATION Studio 1B, Hollywood, California

Cue in cheesy instrumental pop music and the camera pans the studio audience. The Bravo Network cameras were rolling as it was the very first ever episode of "The Alexis Terry Show", Bravo's newest and most anticipated daytime talk show. The cameras transitioned from the small audience to the stage as we get the formal introduction of our beautiful host for today's show.

"And now, England's most glamorous export and the Galveston Island Wrestling Legacy Champion..LADIES AND GENTLEMEN ALEXIS TERRY!!!"

And out from the back walks Alexis wearing a purple dress. She had her Legacy Championship over her shoulder..yes even though it wasn't Thursday Night Revolt or a wrestling show in general, she still had the title with her. The audience cheered as she waved to her adoring fans. She stopped in front of the camera at the front of the set and the cheesy music died and the small crowd that gathered for the taping erupted even louder into a frenzy. She smiled and waited for the prompter to tell her when to begin.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Thank you for that. Welcome to the very first episode of The Alexis Terry Show! I'm your host, best selling author, actress, and of course..professional wrestler and the current reigning Galveston Island Wrestling Legacy Champion, the one and only England's Most Glamorous Export and The Queen - Alexis Terry. We have a jam packed episode for you tonight, Gina Carano is here from the new movie Haywire. Also, from Galveston island Wrestling..Beck Ramsey is here. "

Most of the females in the audience cheer but a lot of boos can be heard from the male viewers. Alexis laughs it off and continues.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Before we start all that though, this Sunday..I'm going to be competing in my first ever Survive and Conquer battle royal. Now, I'm sure a lot of you know what that is but for those of you that don't, it's the biggest battle royal in wrestling. This year there is like eighty six people signed up to compete and I'm one of them. It's pretty crazy if you think about it, eighty six people are going to be trying to scratch, claw, and throw each other over the top to win half a million dollars. Thing is, eighty five other people aren't going to be able to do that to me. I mean, even people from Galveston signed up..guys Like Tony Miranda, Alex Castellanos, and even that teenage brat Faith Simpson thinks she has a better shot at winning than me. She is sadly mistaken. All of them are. I can sit here and run down everyone in the match but that's been done and frankly we don't have the time as this is only an hour show. There is one person in this match that worries me, you guys know who she is.."

"Aspen! Aspen! Aspen!" chants echoed throughout the small studio as a graphic of Aspen Chaud appeared on screen next to Alexis.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Aspen Chaud my best friend everybody, isn't she just lovely? I mean, the two of us are going to absolutely going to take over this battle royal. Guys like CJ Gates and those other APW fools aren't going to stand a chance. You guys wanna hear a funny fact? When Aspen and myself appeared on APW's Overdrive show, our segment was the highest rated of the night? People wanna see Alexis Terry. People wanna see Aspen Chaud. Sunday, people are going to want to see the two hottest contestants in the match co-win this thing. That's right, I said co-win! Alexis Terry and Aspen Chaud, the winners of Survive and Conquer, has a bloody nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

The crowd cheered and Alexis smiled as she held her championship high into the air, almost like she was imagining it was the winning trophy for this Sunday. She looked back into the camera as the fans continued to cheer.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"We'll be right back with Beck Ramsey, don't go anywhere!"

- - - - - -

The scene slowly faded to commercial and moments later, faded back with Alexis sitting in a pink chair on the set. Next to her was another pink chair, obviously for the guests. In between the two chairs was a white table that Alexis sat her Legacy Championship and a few other props that would be used for the show. She got the cue from producers that the commercial break was over they were airing live.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"My first guest is one half of the reining GIW Tag Team Champions and one of the fastest rising wrestling stars in North America. You can see him every Thursday on Revolt, along with me and Aspen Chaud, on Ion Television. Please Welcome Beck Ramsey!"

Just as she announced Beck Ramsey, his music "Bright Lights" by Gary Clark Junior hit as clips of Beck executing various moves with precision played on the big screen. The crowd applauded him and girls in the crowd made "woo" noises rather loudly. The GIW Tag Team Champion emerged from the backstage clad in a nice black pin-stripe suit. He had a black button-up shirt underneath with a purple and silver striped tie. Upon his shoulder was draped, of course, the GIW Tag Team belt. As he walked across the stage, he waved to the crowd. The men that were in the crowd jeered, but the women seemed to be pleased with Beck Ramsey's presence. For a moment, he basked in the attention, but then smiled at Alexis and took a seat on the chair. He lounged back on the chair and propped one foot across his knee as Alexis took her seat next to him in the other rather large and colorful neon pink chair.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Thank you taking the time to join me Beck, it means a lot that you're my first ever guest. Now, your not nationally known. Galveston Island Wrestling is a rather small company but your defiantly making your prescience felt. I mean, you sure did bring a lot of fans I'd say. Wouldn't you girls?"

The females once again cheer and Alexis smiles. She leans over and grabs a magazine that was placed on the table by her Championship. On the cover was none other than Beck himself posing in a nice black suit next to a red corvette with his Tag Championship over his shoulder and a pretty blonde on his left arm.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"You might not be nationally known yet but here you are, on the cover of next months Pro Wrestling Illustrated as 'one of the ones to watch out for in 2012'. I guess my first question is how has your time in Galveston been so far?"

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"It's good to be here, Alexis, and thanks for inviting me to the show. Yeah, I've been working my ass off in GIW. No one gets anywhere in the business without putting a bunch of effort into what they do. I mean look at how Outlaw failed Konvict at last week's Revolt. Konvict was doing all the work. That aside, I have to give credit to my brother. We wouldn't be Tag Team Champions if we weren't a team. There isn't an I in team after all . . . but there is a 'me'."

Beck displayed a smug grin as he showed his arrogance with that comment. Alexis chuckled at his answer and set the magazine cover down. She adjusted her dress and continued on with the questioning.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Now, unlike Aspen and myself, you won't be competing in the Survive and Conquer match because you missed the deadline to sign up. I really tried to pull some strings to get you in because I think you would have done exactly in it but sadly, my beauty doesn't work on homosexual road agents."

The crowd lets out a laugh. Alexis smiles and shrugs her shoulders in a humorous manner. She then continues.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"So, you gonna watch on pay per view? Got any picks to win it?"

Beck didn't even have to think about this. He knew exactly how to answer plus it wasn't like this interview was really done out of the blue. Alexis and him had gone over all the questions she was going to ask even before the show started. So without so much as a pause, he gave his answer.

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"I appreciate you trying to pull some strings, but I'm not too torn up about it. Anyway, yeah, I'll definitely be watching. Well, I'd definitely have to say either yourself or Aspen. It's kind of a toss up. You two have the advantage that you're willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. Something that I like. It was part of the reason I decided to lend my assistance to you two."

The crowd clapped for his answer, it wasn't surprising - it was a very pro Alexis crowd. She smiled and thanked him under her breath. She looked down at her note cards, trying to find her place as what the next question was.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"I'll accept that answer. I'm sure your pretty much on the dot with whats going to happen. Aspen and myself have got this thing in the bag and we can't wait to bring that money and trophy home to Galveston. Now, you won the tag titles in only your second match ever with your brother Seth. There aren't really a whole lot of teams in GIW, any chance we see you compete in singles competition soon? What's the future hold for you? Besides taking me on a date after I win this silly little battle royal Sunday.."

Alexis smiled and the crowd let out a very loud "Woooooo" and some whistles much to the delight of Alexis who was almost beat red in the face. This question brought a smug look across the face of Beck, who was pretty good at keeping it cool. He was generally a pretty calm individual. He glanced around at the crowd as they displayed their approval of him taking her out and nodded slightly before he returned his gaze to Alexis.

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"It's a very real possibility. In fact, this Friday on Revolt, I will be in singles competition against Trent Lost. As far as going on for some of the singles championships. I'm not looking ahead to that right now. I want to focus on defending what's already mine. Seth and I have been doing this for a while in smaller wrestling organizations. We've won all sorts of titles there too. This kind of success isn't new to us. It just means more because GIW is on the way up. Look out, TWE. And as far as me taking you out, I was thinking a nice redenezvous at Ruth's Chris."

The crowd seemed pretty pleased with his expensive choice of dining. Ruth's Chris was a nice place to take anyone especially a date. He seemed pretty pleased with himself especially due to the crowd's reaction.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"I'll take you up on that if I win Sunday, which I will but up next, this is a little segment I like to call the Twitter speed round where I ask you five questions from Twitter and you answer them as fast as you can. Ready? HannahBanna43 writes 'Beck, what is your favorite food?'"

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"Japanese."

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Jessica Franklin tweets 'Mr. Ramsey, who was your idol growing up?'"

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"Doyle Brunson."

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Vince tweets us Aspen Chaud or Alexis Terry, who would you rather bring home to mother?"

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"Easy, Alexis."

Beck winked at Alexis as he answered this question.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"And finally, TheQueenAlexis tweets..when are you going to kiss me you goof?"

The Vegas native's eyes widened at this question. It was rather unexpected, but he didn't lose a step. He stood up from the couch and pulled Alexis to her feet by her hand then kissed her deeply. They continued to kiss for a moment as the crowd cheered them on. When he finally pulled away, he spoke again.

BECK RAMSEY | GIW TAG TEAM CHAMPION
"What are you talking about? I already did."

Alexis laughs loudly and then quickly speaks up.

ALEXIS TERRY | GIW LEGACY CHAMPION
"Thanks for stopping by Beck. We'll be right back with musical guest Adam Lambert and later on Gina Carano stops by."

The scene slowly fades to a commercial with Beck and Alexis continuing to talk as the crowd cheers on the two with Alexis smiling from ear to ear.

- - - - - -

Diary Entry #2
"S&C = Aspen & Alexis"

Who would have thought that in just a few minutes I'd be getting off this god forsaken plane in Florida to compete on pay per view? I thought those days were behind me. At the tender age of thirty, I burnt my bridges in hopes of main eventing on national telly. I made a lot of enemies in this profession but I've also stumbled along to make a brand new one.

Aspen Chaud - My Best Friend.

She taught my a lot about Galveston Island Wrestling. Took me in and guided me along the way, all the way to winning the GIW Legacy Championship. Now I repair who. I didn't really want to enter this Survive and Conquer match but she asked me to. She wanted me to enter to make sure that no matter what else, at least she would have one friend..one ally.

Here is my promise Aspen. Your going to win. I'll make sure of it. Even if it kills me, you will win this thing.

Alexis
xoxo

[tonymiranda]

Note: Due to recent on goings in GIW, Tony's new theme is "Gluttony Fang" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUbpUcgJwdo&feature=related) Also, the following is not to be counted alongside the actual RP.

Legend:
"Hello."- Speech
(Hello.)- Character Narration
/"Hello"/- Flashback/Dream World Speech
/(Hello.)/- Flashback/Dream World Character Narration
/Hello./- General Narration
*Hello*- Character Thought


To avoid any possible confusion in this RP. Allow me to explain the current on goings of the Tony Miranda character. Due to a head injury he received from his former partner The Shadow several months ago, Tony has had constant hallucinations and dreams involving The Shadow and several others usually before a big match. Alongside this, Tony had also unbeknownst to him, developed a split personality. While Tony has been able to keep the split personality at bay, as of late it has been constantly trying to take control of him, after his loss at Malice, where he lost the GIW Undisputed Championship to Aspen Chaud. To summarize, he's been losing his mind, and due to his loss at Malice, he has lost complete control over the growing insanity. I was supposed to have him make the change of personalities at last weeks GIW Revolt, but we never got around to it. Soooo I'm just gonna make the change here at APW Survive And Conquer.


When ever the split personality comes up in this RP, his name will be shown as "The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda, along side a separate color scheme.


Now...ON WITH THE SHOW!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Scene One: Changes


(I...I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what I should do. Should I fight? Should I leave? Should I seek help from the insanity locked deep inside my soul? I just don't know what I should do anymore. I went to sleep last night, perfectly fine...next thing I knew, I woke up inside my own locker room. Not only that, I've been told that I potentially have a cage match with this Johnny Scar at Retaliation. How? I don't remember doing anything of the sort...but apparently this guy wants to end my career...I didn't even do anything to the guy! Why does he want to hurt me of all people?!)


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"What...what is going on? Why is this happening to me?!"


(I wanted someone to answer me, I wanted to know why is all of this happening. My prayers were answered...but not by God. A dark laughter filled the room. I looked around to see where it was coming from, suddenly a thought popped into my mind. "Look into the mirror". Without even thinking about it, I looked into the mirror, and looked at myself. What came next scared me. My reflection...smiled. A very dark and evil smile crept up on the reflection's face.)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"Do you want to know? It's me. I've been the one going around and causing all sorts of fun."


(I jumped out of my seat, almost falling to the ground. I slowly get up, my eyes stuck on my own reflection.)


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"W-w-w-who the hell are you?!"


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"Who am I? Well...it should be fairly obvious. I'm yo--well, that's not really the truth. I'm what you want to be. And eventually...what you will become."


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"What...I will become?"


(The reflection nodded.)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"Thaaaats Riiiiight. Sooner or later I'm going to chip through what little defenses you have left, and when I do...you'll go bye-bye. You will mentally die, and I'll take over your body."


(Fear immediately gripped my heart. I gulped.)


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"I'll...die? What do you mean?"


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"Oh don't get all scared. What I mean is, I'll be taking you over, body and mind. You won't PHYSICALLY die, but rather...mentally."


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"There's no way in hell I'll let that happen."


(The reflection laughed.)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"Are you serious? Do you not understand what just happened? I've ALREADY taken control. Just as you went to sleep last night I managed to take control of your body and have myself a bit of fun. Seriously, you have no idea how stuffy and cramped it is here inside your head."


(I stayed silent, after awhile, the reflection continued.)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"Point is...I already have you. I already control you. Its just a matter of time before I break through those final defenses of yours and make you mine forever."


(The reflection laughed again, I couldn't take it anymore. With a scream, I violently punched the mirror, cracking it and embedding small shards of glass into my knuckles. Blood dripped down from my hand onto the floor. I winced at the pain. But...the voice didn't go away. The laugh grew. It grew, and grew, and grew...)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
*He he he...that pain kinda made you lose a bit of focus didn't it? Long enough for me to crack through those defenses. Well, this has been fun and all, but now its time for me to do my thing. Good-bye Anthony Thomas Danielson.*


(Fear once again invaded my heart. The pain hit me, this time greater than it has ever before. I fell to my knees, screaming in agony.)


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"S-stop it...PLEASE!! STOP!!"


(For once, I was begging. I was actually begging for mercy...the voice only laughed. His laugh brought more pain, to the point where I was actually crying.)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
*Oh QUIT...YOUR...BITCHING! The more you resist the more painful this is for you.*


"The New World Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"N-Never..."


(The voice then let out a deceptive laughter. A laughter that made me feel uneasy. I didn't expect what he was going to say next.)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
*Oh come now...don't you want power?*


"The New world Warrior" Tony Miranda:
"P-power...?"


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
*Yeeeessss...power. I know of a hidden power locked deep inside you. I know how to unlock it, if you'll let me...*


(Even in my state of panic, the thought of power was always on my mind...but was it truly worth it? Was it really worth losing my mind over?)


"The Broken Warrior" Tony Miranda:
*You know you desire power...I offer you the strongest.*


(The strongest power? Perhaps it was worth I--What am I saying? Nothing in this world, even if it was the power of God Himself…nothing was worth losing myself to something so evil.)


“The New World Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Your power…I don’t want it. Nothing you have, and nothing you can say…will make me submit my mind to you…”


(Another laugh echoed inside my mind.)


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Oh really now? How about…Aspen Chaud? I hate her just as much as you do…and with the power I can give you, I--no WE could destroy her shitty queendom.”


(The moment he said that. The moment I heard the possibility of Aspen’s destruction…I felt the pain disappear. No hate, no pain…just the feeling of my own breath…and the voice.)


“The New World Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Aspen…Chaud…”


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
*That’s right. Aspen Chaud. The power that we could possess…we could not only destroy her and her queendom…but we could be right back on top, with the Undisputed Championship in our hands. And when that happens, nobody…not Aspen, not Alex, not Alioth, and definitely not that little bitch Johnny Scar will ever be able to take us down. You have the chance to evolve into something more than just a wrestler…you have the potential to become a true GOD! Come on, Tony…make the necessary sacrifice. As a great man once said…’Evolution requires sacrifice’.”


(That did it. The thought of Aspen Chaud filled me with hatred. I wanted her beate--no…I wanted her completely eradicated from the face of the Earth. I lowered my arms to my sides. A defeated smile formed on my face. I closed my eyes and allowed the darkness to take me over. I’ll do anything to destroy her…even giving my soul, my body, my entire being…to the darkness.)


Tony Miranda:
“…”


(Ugh, that was more of a pain in the ass then it should have been…still, I knew exactly what that fool wanted to hear. By the way, I’m not sure if he can hear me anymore, but uh…about that whole “Destroying Aspen” stuff? I lied. Well, that wasn’t ENTIRELY a lie. I’ll beat that bitch down…after I put that punk Johnny Scar in his place. I stood up, stretching my limbs.)


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Ah…it feels sooooo good to get out of that stuffy old mind.”


(Hmm…there was an event that he was planning on going to…what was it again? Surfacing Encounters? No…Saving Concerts? No, that’s not it…Ah yes, Survive And Conquer. That’s what it was.)


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Survive And Conquer…hmm, that sounds like a fun half of a warm-up. Well, better get to it.”


(86 other wrestlers, 500,000 cash to the winner. This outta be a fun party. Leaving the locker room, I go to prepare for the night in question.)


SCENE ONE END




Scene Two: Survive And Conquer


/The battlefield. The battlefield is one of the most hellish places you can experience. It is literally, the backyard of the Grim Reaper itself. This battlefield was no different. A ruined city, buildings crumbled, the ground was covered with blood, bodies, and bullet casings. A heavy stench lingered in the air. The smell of blood mixed with gunpowder, feces, and rotting corpses. This was a literal Hell On Earth, a sight only thought to be seen in books and movies…but in reality, places like these truly did existed…within one of the worst concepts created by man…War. A single being walked through the destroyed city, walking silently, not even bothered by the putrid smell lingering in the air. He didn’t even seemed to be disgusted by the rotting bodies. All he did was walk. He walked, and eventually stopped at what remained of an intersection. “The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda looked at the ruins, letting out a sigh./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“In this world, there are three things that are guaranteed. So long as there are humans…so long as there are creatures like us…three things are constant. Life, Death, and War. Even if the world was destroyed, even if we were plunged into a “Fallout 3”-like world…so long as there were two people remaining on this planet, they will fight. And therefore, create war. In war…there are no winners, and there are no losers. At the same time, there are no heroes. You cannot go into War thinking you’re Uzumaki Naruto. You cannot save everyone in war. Because in war, even if your cause is just…even when you fight to protect your very way of life, or your country, whichever the case may be…you must be prepared to kill. This is not a cartoon. There are no blond haired demon carrying ninja’s in our world, no supernatural techniques, and there is no befriending your enemies in times of actual war. Kill or die…because there are no winners nor losers. There are only those who survive, and those who don’t. That is the only thing you need to worry about in war, survival. Survive war…and Conquer death.”


/The martial artist sighed, looking down at the bodies. His expression unchanging. In the back of his mind, however…he smirked at his segue./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Survive and Conquer…a match like none other. In a sense, it also is like War, when you think on it for a while. Numerous warriors, from different races, different nations, congregating in one single spot to battle for domination, the last one remaining, proving dominance and superiority over all others, and which ever promotion he came from, would be seen as the best among all of them. Looking at it, Survive And Conquer is War. A very watered down variant of war…but war nonetheless. On January 29th, 2012...the biggest battle in the history of Independent Wrestling will begin. Nearly ninety competitors, it is as if the entire world is gathering into this one battle. Such a night it will be, not only for us competitors, but for the crowd watching as well. People, from every part of the United States, even possibly from the entire world, will come to watch. No doubt even companies such as WWE and TNA will be there to watch, many talent scouts will be there to watch the match, looking to see which one of us, if any…has the possibilities of becoming the next Rock, or CM Punk, or John Cena, they will watch to see if any of us may have the talent necessary to go from being a Indy Wrestler to a Professional Wrestler, they want to see if any of us have what it takes…to go from a nobody, into a somebody.”


/Tony walks further into the city, stopping at the nearest body next to him, a soldier. Tony kicks the soldier over, ripping the bloody dog tags from his neck. He reads the tags, the name “Dan Quinn” engraved on it. He grins./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Eighty-five other competitors…eighty-five other wrestlers…not one of them impress me. Even the ones from my own promotion Galveston Island Wrestling. I am not impressed by my competition one single bit. This entire competition, on paper it sounds amazing, but so far all I have seen from my opposition are half assed wannabes. They haven’t fought the people I have, they haven’t stood in the ring with true talent, compared to them, even Brody Harper looks like Bret “The Hitman” Hart. You see, this battlefield is not just any battlefield…this is MY battlefield, my war zone, this is a graveyard of corpses, of the many wrestlers slain by my hand at Survive And Conquer. Such as this sad excuse of a human being, Daniel Quinn. And among these other bodies, lie the many others participating in Survive And Conquer. They all believed that they could claim the prize, they all thought that they were strong. They all thought that they would walk back to their own promotion, to their own ‘country’, so to speak…but what they didn’t expect was for them to fight me. They treated this match as if it was like any other match…but what they didn’t expect, was for me to treat this match the way it should be treated…as a War. And so, one by one, they fought to ‘the best of their abilities’, I on the other hand…fought to win. I fought to destroy, I fought to Survive and Conquer. Across the entire landscape I spread their blood, their bodies were strewn across the ring, and those who were unlucky enough to meet me in the later stages in the match, suffered the same fate…perhaps a more brutal fate than the others. For they had the sensation, the thoughts of victory roaming through their mind…only to have their thoughts of glory ripped out from them alongside their still-beating hearts. And to the final man, who survived through it all…suffered the worst. He survived the longest aside from me, both of us tired from all the fighting, we were only inches away from the prize, he got to it, but he, like all the others, treated this like a match…I pulled him away from that briefcase, and with a pair of brass knuckles, I beat his skull in, until his face was nothing but a red stain on my hand.”


/Tony smiled, letting out a slightly dark laughter./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Perhaps I’m getting too far ahead of myself. Perhaps I’m playing this scenario a bit too early, perhaps I am wrong…perhaps there is a diamond hidden in the trash…and perhaps that diamond shines brighter than me, and wins the entire thing. Or even, perhaps I myself will be eliminated fairly early from the match. Yeah right. I’ve been scouting these bastards left and right, and there is nobody in this match that can hold a candle to neither me nor anybody in Galveston Island Wrestling. In fact, here is something I can guarantee. The remainders of this match? The last few wrestlers that will remain after this brutal fun fest? I guarantee you that it will come down to all of GIW. I’m not saying this out of cockiness, or out of foolish pride. I am speaking the cold hard truth. We few coming from Galveston Island Wrestling, are unlike anything you have ever seen. Alex Castellanos, Alioth Starre, Faith Simpson, Wake Walker, even Aspen Chaud and Alexis Terry…we are the best among these pitiful pieces of scum. We are better, we are stronger, we are simply a higher caliber of wrestler, unlike those other fools, such as this little trash lying down right next to me.”


/Tony Walks forward, stepping over the various bodies, stopping at one who, even disfigured, looked like one of those redneck comedians, he forgets which./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Ah yes…and here we have yet another worthless sack of shit…Gally Po. I gotta admit, when I heard that this disgusting excuse of a human being was participating in this match…I laughed. I laughed and laughed until I could barely breathe. THEN they told me they were serious. I had to check for myself, and there he was, cutting his promo. Every word he spoke, every move he made, every single one of his actions...made me sick to my stomach. He was just as bad as that one bastard The Shadow once worked with...what was his name? Bitchcakes McPhee? Such a stupid name, but then again...'tis to be expected of hicks.”


/Tony’s expression completely changed, to that of a psychopath. He raised his foot, stomping violently on the body’s face./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“I don’t know you, never have, and I personally don’t want to. You look, sound, and probably smell like rotten horse manure. But…you went and called me something didn’t you? What was it again…ah yes. A homosexual. I believe that is what you called me. See, Gally…I don’t like being insulted. I don’t take kindly to people like you. Normally…I wouldn’t be bothered. But you went ahead and called me a homosexual. If there’s one thing in this world I absolutely hate…its being called gay by putrid trash like you. But then again, I guess it‘s to be expected by a fat, mentally handicapped hick like you.”


/Tony begins to stomp harder on the face of the body./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“You know…one interesting thing I’ve learned about homophobic people, they themselves have thoughts of homosexuality. And you know what they say…the first step is denial. But, gay or straight…no human being with half a brain cell would even get close to you.


/Finally, Tony violently kicks the body, it tumbles a few feet away from him. He spits on the body, trying to get a disgusting taste out of his mouth./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“This is not just any scenario. This is not just a clever idea I decided to use for my promo. THIS. IS. THE FUTURE. This is going to be the reality, the conclusion of Survive And Conquer. This may not be the actual reality the others will see. No one will actually die, unless they botch a spot, but that’s not the point. The point is…this is the reality that I will see. This will be the future that I see for myself, in the real reality no one will die, but in this, I will gloat over the bodies of the many fools trying to claim their fifteen minutes of fame. In the real reality everyone will walk home beaten to live to fight another day…but in my reality, nothing and nobody will remain. In my reality their blood will be eternally stained on my hand, they will fall to my strength, and I will take the prize for myself, and use it to fuel my plans.”


/Tony smirks, a small laugh escaped his lips./


“The Broken Warrior” Tony Miranda:
“Survive and Conquer. That is the name of the game. That is the mission, the goal that must be achieved. There are no winners. No one wins in these kinds of matches, even the one who walks out last will never be the same again. Many will fight like its just a match with a fancy name, but only a few will treat it with the respect and fear that it deserves. Me, and those others who understand exactly what kind of match this is…we will be the ones who will reach the later stages of this match. At the end, it will come down to who the most brutal is. Who the one with the most vitality is. Who the one who wants to live the most is. As I said before, on January 29th, 2012...there will be no winners. There will be no losers. There will only be survivors. And at the end of it all, only one will walk out of this War as the one true survivor. I will be that survivor. I will walk into this match, I will fight warriors and fools alike, from all walks of life, but in the end I will be the only one remaining. All others will try, but they will fall into oblivion. I alone have what it takes. On January 29th, 2012...I will Survive War, and I will Conquer death. I will dominate and destroy, I will leave nothing remaining. I will, unlike any other before me…truly Survive And Conquer.”


/Tony begins walking again, walking silently through the many corpses. In moments, he disappears from the destroyed city, leaving only his destruction behind him./


SCENE TWO END

[Jules]

ǀ tea – a QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH motivation ǀ

“For the love of Queen Elizabeth!”

This animated exclamation was Julius Farquhar’s. Now, for the benefit of the ignorant, Julius Farquhar is not only APW’s most QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH wrestler, but the most QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH wrestler in the world. Julius flapping a sheet of paper as he enters the room where Manservant is doing the sorts of things a manservant usually does.

“I told you I couldn’t trust these American cretins. I’ve just got a response from the manufacturers and they’ve declined the offer to produce the QUINTESSENTIAL ENGLISH cuppa.”

Manservant grunts with disapproval. Grunting is about the only response Manservant will give you.

“Can’t these people see the woods from the trees? I tell you here and now Manservant, it is short-sighted buffoons like these people that will turn this world as sour as a Tory when you mention the phrase ‘welfare state’. Can’t they see that disseminating a basic household product is the perfect way to make the world a more QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH world?”

An approving grunt from Manservant; he was fully behind the QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH venture.

“I just don’t know what I am going to do.”

There is a suggestion-offering grunt from the Manservant. Julius thinks it over.

“I think that might be a good idea Manservant.”

Manservant continues with three or four grunts of elaboration.

“Exactly! And when I win the Survive & Conquer match I can use the prize money to set up my own manufacturing company to produce the QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH cuppa. On top of the tea product I could write and release a self-help book about becoming QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH and use my post-Survive & Conquer popularity to push the sales.”

Julius seems rather satisfied about himself, even though it was all Manservant’s idea. He smiles smugly, even though there is nobody else in the room to smile smugly at, except Manservant, but then smug smiles were never his cup of tea.

“I need you to do me a favour Manservant.”

An inquisitive grunt from Manservant.

“I need you to phone my agent and give him instructions to make sure I am in that Survive & Conquer match. Also, tell him to contact a news agency, one of those less disreputable ones such as ‘PW Worldwide’. I have a press statement to make.”

Another grunt from Manservant, this one seeking clarification.

“That’s none of your business. Now make that phone call.”

ǀ surviving ǀ

Location: APW Survive & Conquer promotional event, Miami, FL.

The large conventional hall is packed to the rafters with every single entrant for the APW Survive & Conquer match, including some of the brightest and boldest names in professional wrestling, eager and excited fans, ring rats, bottom-feeding media types sniffing out the most exclusive scoop, and many others. Amongst this mass of humanity is one Julius Farquhar, the world’s most QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH wrestler. Julius Farquhar despises such events, being of aristocratic breed he sees no need to contaminate his existence amongst this wealth of human filth. Also in attendance in arch scavenger Shane West, who, along with his trusty cameraman, is trying to interview as many APW superstars as possible in the vain hope it will score him some credit with his superiors. Luckily for Shane he has spotted APW’s first ever QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH megastar.

Shane West: Julius, can I grab a quick word with you?

Julius: I make that nine, but who’s counting?

Shane looks confused. Julius starts to walk away.

Shane: Please Julius, grant me an interview ahead of Survive & Conquer.

Julius assents...reluctantly.

Camera rolling...

Shane West: Good day APW fans, and indeed fans from the whole wrestling community. I’m standing by with one of the 86 entrants into this year’s Survive & Conquer match, the only man of his kind, the QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH Julius Farquhar. Tell me Julius, how do you prepare for a match in which you know you could face up to 86 other wrestlers in the space of just a couple of hours?

Julius: Dear Shane, it all depends on your perspective. If, for example, you’re like a lot of these so-called wrestlers and have about as much chance of winning this match as Newt Gringrich sticking to his wedding vows, which as we have seen is pretty much zero, then you don’t bother preparing. In fact I would offer some advice to a lot of these hopeless hopefuls to just not bother. Don’t turn up to Survive & Conquer because you’ll just end up being an embarrassment to yourself, and quite frankly you’ll be a rotten waste of my time, as well as those who have paid their hard-earned dollars...

Julius stops to think, before continuing with a re-phrase.

Julius: Well you’ll be wasting the dollars of those who have paid to watch this event. Personally, I find insulting that I even have to be in the same ring as far the cretins that have been signed up to this match. I wouldn’t mind if I was drawn 86 or something because then I wouldn’t have to worry about some inbred, tongue-wagging, gorilla putting his filthy hands on me, but some genius in APW headquarters has decided to have me enter at number thirteen.

Shane West: Actually, all numbers were drawn at random.

Julius: Somebody call the W.H.O. – it looks like idiocy is spreading fast around here. If you think that draw was random then you’re a bigger moron than Jason Kash after a few too many chuffs at whatever illegal substance he is smoking these days. Anyway, if President Jeff wants to play these games that is fine with me. I’m not superstitious at all, and I’m going to prove that number thirteen is not only a perfectly fortunate number, but also the most QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH number.

Shane West: You sound pretty confident, but surely even you have to admit the odds are stacked against you.

Julius: Of course they are. But the odds were stacked against Winston Churchill when he led England to victory over Nazi Germany; Lord Wellington was severely outnumbered by Napoleon’s troops at the Battle of Trafalgar but he was victorious; Sir Francis Drake had no right to conquer the might and weight of the Spanish Armada but he did so in defence of Queen and country; and who could ever forget the valiant victory of that virtuous viceroy against the vicious vagabonds of the vulturous French state – I am talking of course of Henry V. What is the common variable – of course it Englishness, but Englishness of the most quintessential sort. Being so QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH I have instilled in me the spirit of my forebears, and no people in the world are better equipped and surviving and conquering than the English. We have always fought evil, even when we have been poorly resourced and heavily outnumbered and we have scored more victories than I can count. I know I am a man alone in this match, but I have no fear because I am bursting with winning spirit, the blood of champions, the D.N.A. of the scourges of vagabonds and criminals all around the world.

Shane: But you’re not the only Englishman in this match-up. Surely, if what you say is true, it stands to reason that they have as equal chance as you do.

Julius: It stands to reason? Please Shane, if I ever here you so erroneously invoking the dictates of reason again I will slap the taste out of your mouth quicker than that filthy whore Cindy Shannon can drop her knickers in the men’s locker room.

Shane: She does that?

Julius: Get back on task, cretin!

Shane: Right. So, what about your fellow countrymen?

Julius: First of all, these people you speak of I would hardly call ‘fellow countrymen’. Do I need to remind you of who I am?

Shane: [sarcastically] No, you’re ‘the most QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH wrestler in the world’.

Julius: Exactly, and being such nobody is in a better position to judge another person’s quintessentials like I am. Anyway to cut a rather long analysis short, I can tell you right here and now that not a single other wrestler in APW, or in the Survive & Conquer match, comes even close to matching me for quintessentials. But I will amuse your ignorance just this once, who do you have in mind?

Shane West: Keaton Saint. He’s pretty good and he’s English.

Julius: Who?

Shane: You know, CWC Hardcore Champion, the Saint goes marching on.

Julius: Please! I was hoping you would start with someone at least a bit credible.

Shane West: Well he did beat Kurt Noble on debut.

Julius: Listen to me, that man wouldn’t even be fit to cut my hair, nevermind defend the honour of Englishness everywhere. As for defeating Kurt Noble, well judging by his record that is hardly something to write home about. Is there is a bigger candidate for most undeserving push of the year 2011? And don’t answer that you idiot, it was a rhetorical question. If it came down to it I could beat Kurt Noble with both hands tied behind my back. Actually I will rephrase that: I could beat Kurt Noble with both hands tied behind my back using Mr. Dangerous’ repertoire.

Shane West: I think, like many others will, that you’re just blowing hot air and there is no truth at all to what you say. I happen to think Kurt Noble is a fine wrestler, and Keaton Saint has to be one of the favourites to win the half a million.

Julius: Two things Shane: One, you’re not here to think; two, I couldn’t give two hoots about whatever it is you think. Now who are these other ‘countrymen’ insulting want to group me with?

Shane: Well, let’s see: there is Blade, of course; um, then there is Dan Quinn, oh and Phil Atken.

Julius: Let me tell you a few things about these so-called fellow countrymen. Blade, for want of a better description, is a truly pathetic excuse for a professional wrestler. He’s probably been around as long as the furniture, yet at least the furniture has been gathering dust – what exactly has Blade achieved? If 2012 is the year of Blade then it will be a year of famine in APW. It says everything I need to know with Blade that he has to catch a ride on the coat tails of that geriatric Johnny Rebel. Blade has no honour; he is simply another man’s muscle, a mere slave. He is a complete disgrace to the English nation because no truly noble, aristocratic, QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH man would bow to any person but her royal highness herself. If I get my hands on Blade I promise I will choke him until I squeeze the last breath from his body for the insult his existence is to God’s own country.

Dan Quinn. He is now concern to me, I’m happy to let him squabble in the play-pen with the Kid Dynamites of this world. Leave the wrestling to the professionals young man, and do us all a favour, take some elocution lessons. If you’re going to speak the finest language on this planet then learn to do it properly, every single locution that is uttered by your lips is like a slap to the face of Shakespeare himself. You may want to act like a retard on steroids, but at least have the decency to keep your mouth shut when you are doing so. I promise I will slap the syllables out of the mouth of that besmirching scoundrel if I come across him in Miami.

As for Phil Atken: he’s not even English, he’s Scottish; he doesn’t even count as a human being. That’s the problem with you Americans; you’re all so ignorant of anything that isn’t American. You should show more respect to your patron fathers, and stop trying to lump those awful Celts in with us noble Anglo-Saxons. The Scottish are a vile, subterranean species that would scare half to death even the Morlocks. Have you ever listened to the incoherent moron? If I had to choose between Atken and Quinn I would marginally favour Quinn because at least he has the right genes; he may just need to be re-programmed.

Shane: Julius, ‘regretfully’ I have just one more question for you. What are your thoughts on the invasion of APW by the stars of rival promotions in the build up to Survive & Conquer? While many of APW megastars have fought tooth and claw to repel this threat, you seem to have been largely disinterested. Is there some reason for this?

Julius: It is a simple principle of warfare – divide and conquer. Every empire that has ever existed on this planet, including the greatest of them all, the English empire, has ruled according the principle of divide and conquer. Induce the enemy to fight amongst themselves and profit handsomely from the lack of cohesion in their forces. While I cannot take the credit for inducing the pandemonium we have seen on Overdrive I certainly will profit from it.

I do not believe in party politics, and swear no allegiance to APW. My only interest is self-interest. So while all these pathetic little pawns like Kurt Noble, C.J. Gates, Johnny Rebel and Keaton Saint charge around like a group of phoney Prince Valiants I just sit back, watch and laugh at the futility of it all.

There is nothing wrong with ego, old man, it is after all the mere psychological manifestation of Darwin’s principle, but when it is driven to the kinds of sycophantic bottom-kissing antics I’m seeing with so many of APW’s ‘leading lights’ it makes me nauseous to the point of sickness. If the Rebels and the Gates of this world want to be the Robin Hood of APW, that is fine by me. I have nothing to gain by fighting a battle that has been carefully orchestrated by President Jeff himself. You see, old boy, these idiots don’t realise how badly they are being manipulated by the management of this company. Jeff opens the door to the nasty ‘invaders’ and gives them carte blanche to do whatever their heart desires on APW television; all his ‘megastars’ are such sycophants that they will do anything to defend the good name of APW and our dearest Jeff, even to the extent of risking their own livelihood and well-being in doing so. Our President all the while is the sole profiteer of the revenue from increased television ratings. Compare the situation on Asylum where APW’s only competent authority figure, Reginald Schmidt, has not allowed ‘the invaders’ in, producing a picture of pure serenity.

I will have nothing to do with this ‘invasion’ business. I’ll let these fools exhaust themselves with a non-existent threat at Survive & Conquer and then pick them off one by one as and when the time comes. Shane, if you haven’t figured it out yet, this match is all about Survival. Survive before you conquer. In Miami I intend to do both.

At this time Julius spots Asylum’s General Manager Reginald Schmidt.

Julius: Ah, Mr. Schmidt! Just the man I wanted to see, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that thing...

Julius walks off leaving Shane to wraps things up and find his next interview.

ǀ conquering ǀ

In a match that includes 85 other wrestlers where does one begin? Even to athlete of my supreme ability this looks like a daunting figure, but is the whole greater than the sum of its parts in this instance? I think a simple analysis of ‘the whole’ will expose that for a QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH wrestler like myself there is very little to be worried about.

Using my advanced analytic skills I see the field as divisible into five distinct groups. The first group consists of the APW contenders, such heroic figures as C.J. Gates, Kurt Noble, Keaton Saint, Johnny Rebel and Blade. The second group consists of the returning APW legends such as Lester Only, Sally Talfourd, Terry Marvin and the like. Our third group is the APW hopefuls, such as Kid Dynamite, Dan Quinn, my old friend Zachary Rodell, and Nathaniel Havok’s lackey. Our fourth group are those dastardly ‘invaders’, those who are simply here to make up the numbers. The fifth, final, and most superior group is that of the QUINTESSENTIALLY ENGLISH, of which I, Julius Farquhar, am the only member. I will now proceed with a little method that philosophers call an argument from elimination. It will reveal that I, Julius Farquhar, am the only true contender and inevitable conqueror in this match up. I think you will find the reasoning is quite flawless.

First of all I will eliminate the obvious non-threats, the clear non sequitirs, if you will permit the use of that phrase. These include the ‘invaders’ and the APW hopefuls. To my mind there is no threat here. Firstly, if the invaders were so good and threatening, why aren’t they here in APW trying to compete against me every week? Besides I have seen nothing from any of these simpletons to suggest I need to be worried. If two knuckle-draggers like Johnny Rebel and Blade can get the jump on the best this invasion has to offer then I am inclined to pull out of this contest for fear of what the impending embarrassment will do to their self-worth. As for the APW hopefuls, well hope was never given very much merit in my book. By my lights Kid Dynamite is seen as the best of this bad bunch, but it really is the case of the loudest and most irritating child in the playground getting himself noticed. If this chump can’t even overcome the ‘Brent Brawler’ then he should crawl back into whatever cesspool whence he originated. Two down, two to go.

The next contenders are those lovable legends that have done the fans just a great service in the past, and return again to relight once again those lascivious old flames. I am, of course, talking about Lester Only, or ‘Level One’ to use his superhero name, and the so-called first lady of APW, Sally Talfourd. The only pertinent question to be asked here is: why did they leave? The obvious answer is: why does anyone stop doing what they are doing? No, sorry that’s another question, not an answer. The answer to the question that was an answer to a question is: because they weren’t good enough anymore. Some idiots want us to believe that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, but this is nothing but sentimental claptrap. The real truth of that matter is that this kind of cheap gimmick comeback is just another money-making fad by our omniscient President. The truth of the matter is that these two, wonderful records notwithstanding, ceased to be relevant in APW months ago. The records tell us both of them hardly went down in a blaze of glory. It doesn’t matter how much Lester Only needs to get free of those wicked gangsters to save his career, or whether Sally Talfourd smiles with those darling pearly whites and shakes her cleavage in Jeff’s face, no amount of hype or sentimentality is going to change the fact that these legends weren’t good enough when they left, and after months of absence whatever would possess anyone to think things will be any different at Survive & Conquer?

That leaves us with one other group to eliminate, the revered APW contenders. The question of worth here, or lack thereof, is a question of character. To rephrase, their lack of worth in this contest is due in large to their questionable characters. Even the great heroes and saviours of the darling APW fans are men who instead of being revered should be despised. Principal amongst these is no less than the Undisputed Champion C.J. Gates himself. I’m not the first and, I dare say, I will not be last to comment that good old ‘Ceej’ is clearly avoiding a title defence by throwing his name into the Survive & Conquer hat. However, this is not what I find most contemptible about ‘Ceej’, but rather this perception he puts out that he does it all for the fans. Call me a cynic if you will, but this merely demonstrates what a soul-devouring bottom feeder our Champion is. Who gives a crap about the fans? You’re the Champ, the fans should be kissing your backside, not the other way around. There is nothing I despise more is this kind of pandering to the mob, and as far as C.J. Gates is concerned it as disingenuous as Al Gore’s environmentalist pretentions. I’ve watched C.J. Gates over the past few months and what lies underneath that cheesy grin and the cheap platitudes is a seething, callous, scoundrel who will do whatever it takes to make sure he stays on top.

Not far behind ‘Ceej’ in the prize for most disgusting example of humanity are Kurt Noble, Keaton Saint and Johnny Rebel. Kurt Noble and Keaton Saint are to me the antipathy of everything that is noble and aristocratic: snivelling, subservient sycophants. Everywhere I go I hear people talking about Keaton Saint and how he brings a whole new level to APW. If what you mean is a whole new level of bottom-feeding then I completely agree. I’ve been at the shows and I see how everyone grovels to this filth. Oh, but he did beat Kurt Noble on debut, everyone is quick to say. Well, I would beat Kurt Noble if given half an opportunity. After all Noble is no more than some cripple who was awarded an APW contract through some ‘make-a-wish’ foundation. He has about as much business being here as Mr. Dangerous. I’m seeing it every single week, so-called wrestlers who are being push above me, given the opportunities I deserve. Nathaniel Havok seems to think he is the victim of some conspiracy – what conspiracy? I see you getting plenty of opportunities Havok! Where are mine? My flag match at Christmas Chaos was the reason the buy-rate was so high; me raising the flag of St. George was the highlight of that incredible evening – but where was my credit? Where was my push? Well thankfully I found a true authority figure in Reginald Schmidt, a man who knows talent when he sees it, a man who wanted me to lead the Asylum product in 2012. Keaton Saint and Kurt Noble, the hero bodyguards of APW. Tell me gentlemen, how much salad did you have to toss to get your spots in the main event?

That just leaves me with one more of these objectionable boot-lickers, and he is not far short of the rest. I am talking about Johnny Rebel. Here we have a man who sets himself up as the arch-nemesis of everything that is good and wholesome in APW; the anarchist who is here to bring chaos where others want order. I confess I once had a twinkling of admiration for Johnny Rebel. Okay, he may be old and slow, he may be a complete ignoramus, and possess less talent than my nail clippings, but he knew his nature and he embraced that – or so he wants us to think. Mr. Rebel, the man who wants us all to believe he is the destroyer of all that is good, a man with unbridled ambition, who will stop at nothing. He will stop at nothing alright....he will stop at nothing to make sure he earns the good graces of the people running this show. The true criminal who embraces what he is at least has integrity, but Rebel you don’t even have that. What you want us to think you take with one hand you are giving back with the other. Well at Survive & Conquer I will make sure I give nothing and take everything.*

* An unashamed paraphrase of an epic line from the epic film '300'.

[jasonandrews]

“Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six. (666)” -Revelation 13:18

The nation of opportunistic kids is always on the rise. Who will be the next one to seize the opportunity of a life time and become rich with fame glory and admiration of fans around the world. One will rise above the rest he is etched in history to be the winner of survive and conquer his destiny will come to pass. He is not a one hit wonder or a flash in the pan. This man will rise above the rest and actually survive. Or will a new evil rise from the ashes of a forgotten memory will he emerge and will it be the end of the world as we know it?

The camera pans over to Jason Andrews in his apartment sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He is muttering to himself you really can’t make out what he is saying until he screams out on the top of his lungs “I AM NOT GOING TO FUCK ING DO THAT NOW LEAVE ME BE!” He starts rocking back and forth he looks to be in fear. “I won’t do it, I won’t do it, you can’t beat me Damien I won’t let you out again!”

Jason gets up and walks towards his bathroom he has yet to replace his mirror he turns on the cold water and splashes some in face. He takes a heavy breath and tries to keep his composure but he falls to the ground and it looks that he is writhing in pain. He screams loudly “No you I can’t let you out it’s I managed to keep you at bay thus far!” The phone rings and he slowly gets up from the ground and moves towards his bedroom and answers it. “Hello?” There was a long pause and then a loud crash in the background.

“BACON WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? The last few days you haven’t been you’re self we had plans last night and you fucking bailed on me I almost made it with two hot Asian twins and you my friend could have gotten…” Jason sighs heavily “ Look Toast I’m sorry I had things going on with me last night right now it’s hard to explain well I’m not even sure if there is a way I can explain it. I don’t even know myself. Just lately it feels like someone or something has been taking over and I don’t know if I’m going crazy or if it’s just all in my head.” You can hear Toast giggling silently. “Dude you’re not laughing at me are you?



“Easy ladies easy there is enough Toast for everyone! You hear that Bacon you could enjoy all of this awesomeness if you were with me right now WOOOOOO!!!!!!” Jason rolls his eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said you fucking douchebag!” There is more laughing on the other line.” Yeah yeah something about you being possessed or something or another anyway I called to see if you wanted to come by but I see that you are being too busy being crazy so maybe next time.” Jason begins to get red in the face and angry. “Hey Bacon don’t get mad at me with that tone of look. Look man I don’t know what to tell you if you want me to come over when I’m done dealing with these hoes….No baby I didn’t call you a hoe I said you had nice panty hoes but yeah like I was saying if you want me to come by later I will.”

“Yeah man I think that would be good if you did I think I’m losing my mind. “ Alright Bacon I should be there in about a couple hours because you know laying some pipe down is more important at the time.” Jason light heartedly laughs. “Alright man I’ll see you soon. Jason.” Jason lightly smirks and somehow his eyes change colors from blue to black. “No you son of a bitch you aren’t going to get me you can’t I will not cannot let you win!”



Jason goes on all fours and starts coughing up blood he finally gets up wipes the blood from his mouth he goes to the supply closet and grabs a crowbar. He drags it against the floor and goes to the end of his bed and starts plying up his wooden floor he is at it for a while until he pulls out a black box that reads “Damien’s Things” He opens the box and pulls out a metallic looking mask and puts it on. And under his breath he says “You are weak it was only a matter of time, My name is Damien nobody can control me I don’t know how you managed to for so long but now that I am in control”

Jason I mean Damien walks around trying to get to know his surroundings and has a evil smirk on his face. “This world that we live in now has never seen an evil like this. I know what Jason does and I enjoy it I love putting people in my pain it gives me pleasure.”

“There was a time when I had control over Jason that hurting people was a sport to me it gave me an adrenaline rush. After years of wondering the world training and going through people like wet pieces of tissue it became relevant that I was a threat. I ended many careers and I condemned many a soul”

“The reason why I was locked away sealed away was when I was wrestling a match in Mexico I broke a man’s neck and let’s just say he is no longer with us. As I was walking down the street a woman in black a gypsy noticed me as the entity that I am. She knew my power and knew what I was capable of. She knocked me out using a 2x4 and I was out cold. When I woke up I was tied to a chair and it was her the woman that casted me out of my last body. She was reading a spell book she knew I would have just jumped into another body so she just sealed me away deep within Jason’s sub conscious. For the time being I was beaten long forgotten. That was three years ago.”

“Three years later I once again re gain control over this pathetic person. To regain what is mine and that is the world. At survive and conquer I will win and gain control once again it’s not about the money I don’t need it I made plenty when I was in control the first time around how do you think Jason’s bank account is so big?”

“ At survive and conquer I will win that money and what I’ll do it with well let’s just say that I am going to have a meeting with President Jeff about the state of his company. Only time can time what is going to be done. The end of APW’s WORLD is going to end after survive and conquer and nothing and nobody is going to stop me from winning”



fade

["Majestic" Alan Christopher]

[Disclaimer: I do use some bible-type references, so if you have strong reactions or ties, or may be easily offended, you may not like a certain part. But my gimmick is that of a evil preacher.]

The following takes place between the hours of 4pm and 5pm. The set in unclear, but it is a room of some sort, with an APW banner on the wall. Where the building is, however, is unknown. On the scene, a man, rather scrawny in his build, of Caucasian descent, walks onto the scene wearing an APW staff Polo shirt, black jeans, and a black belt. The man produces a microphone and greets the camera.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I'm here only two days away with another of the entrants for the Survive and Conquer match, this man has drawn the number sixty-six, which, with eighty-six people overall, you've got to love his odds at victory here. As you may have guessed, my guest's name is none other than the 'One True God' Alan Christopher!”

The camera pans to the right to reveal a man, walking in all his swag, dressed in a full Armani suit, black shades, and real Gucci shoes, he stops for a moment and checks the time, turning back his sleeve and revealing a 24k gold Rolex brand watch, Alan then flashes a classy grin, then looks up at the APW staff member.

“I'm not late, am I?” Alan says, amused with his entrance.

“No, not really,” the staff replies, “I was just getting ready to introduce you as a matter of fact. So Alan; I've heard about some of your past exploits, but you have been out of a ring for a little over two years or so now. Why now, of all times, have you decided to make a resurgence to in-ring competition? What makes you believe that after that kind of a brake, you can hang with this new era of talent, in an 86-man event? You got lucky with the number sixty-six spot. You could just have easily gotten the number three, or seven, even. I mean no disrespect to you, of course, you being a former four-time world champion and undefeated in steel cage matches through out your entire career. You also created the famed faction known as Devastation INC in the Extreme Championship Federation.”

“You seem rather well-educated on some of my past exploits. I applaud you.”

“Well, it's my job. I need to be well-informed of everyone that I interview. Thank you for the kind words, though.”

Alan shifts his position then continues his reply to the APW staff member.

“Well now, if you were so well-educated on me...you probably know what I did to UWL interviewer, Kip Anderson.”

“...”

“That's right. I see you heard about that as well. How I abducted the man at knife-point. How I berated and insulted the man, ultimately in my attempts to get at Shawn Stevens, then UWL Mid-Atlantic Champion. But that is in the past. That match, sent me into a deep retirement, only coming out to face former Devastation INC member-turned-rival 'The Monstrosity' Bane...and then returning to my quiet retirement.”

The staff member swallows, then steps back a bit, but stands firm with the microphone still strongly in his grasp.

“I-I'm sorry. I just want to do my job, sir.”

“It's alright. That side of me is gone now. I've been free of Shawn Stevens for years, free of the UWL and that ever-annoying interviewer Kip Anderson.”

“Then why? Why have you come to the APW's Survive and Conquer event?”

“Well...the reasoning, is the pay, and the fame. You see, I'm a former member of the UWL, currently retired, a free agent so to speak. If I win this match, I'll be the biggest commodity in the wrestling industry. Every promotion that's worth it's weight in salt will want to sign me. And it will cost them. That equals bigger paychecks, more money in my pockets. And you can't really say there's anything wrong with that.”

“...Well I certainly can't fault you. And I suppose there are some other individuals in the match you know. Chris Hart and Kurt Noble to name a couple. Though Noble, I've heard, you haven't had many dealings with.”

“That is correct, I believe he and I haven't met in the ring yet. Face-to-face, one-on-one. Chris Hart and I, however...we've worked with each other for a long time in the Extreme Championship Federation. We've fought together, but much more often, we've been on opposite sides of the ring. Back and forth. He and Tyson Phoenix, the Mega-Star Alliance, versus Myself, and Devastation INC. Ahh, good times, good times.”

“Alright. So wait...that's your whole reason for entering this match? For fame, and to attempt to cause a bidding war between top promotions?!”

“Well, on the surface. Really deep down, it is to spread the Gospel of Perfection, as according to Alan.”

“The Gospel of what?!”

“The Gospel of Perfection. It has been envisioned to me, by the very Gods above. You could call me a prophet of sorts.”

“That's why your nickname is the 'One True God'...”

“That is correct. You see, it is written:”

“After these things I saw, and behold, a door opened in heaven, and the first voice that I heard, a voice as of a trumpet speaking with me, one saying: Come up here, and I will show you the things which must come to pass hereafter. Straightway I was in the Spirit: and behold, there was a throne set in heaven, and I was sitting upon the throne; and he that sat was to look upon like a jasper stone and there was a rainbow round about the throne, like an emerald to look upon. And round about the throne were four and twenty thrones: and upon the thrones I saw four and twenty elders sitting, arrayed in white garments; and on their heads crowns of gold. And out of the throne proceed lightnings and voices and thunders. And there was seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of Alan and before the throne, as it were a sea of glass like a crystal; and in the midst of the throne, and round about the throne, four living creatures full of eyes before and behind. And the first creature was like a lion, and the second creature like a calf, and the third creature had a face as of a man, and the fourth creature was like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, having each one of them six wings, are full of eyes round about and within: and they have no rest day and night, saying:

Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God, the Almighty, who was and who is and who is to come.”

“.......................”

“That is why I am here. The throne of gold, is mine for the taking. By winning the Survive and Conquer match, I will receive said throne, and the prophecy of the Book of Perfection, shall come true, as it is written.”

“Now I'm starting to agree with Kip Anderson...you're totally nuts!”

“And you, foolish mortal, are unworthy of my leadership, once I ascend the throne. When I ascend, and the Prophecy is complete...everything will bow to me, and my undeniable power. For I am the 'One True God'...a 'God Among Men'...and the Survive and Conquer...is my battleground!”

With that the self-proclaimed God among Men leaves, the staff member left in a state of bewilderment, to what on Earth he actually just saw...

[End RP]

[marcushister]

A reflection on life or the absence of it

You spend years and years fighting through many challenges and difficulties, then, in a single moment, it turns into dust, everything becomes meaningless. And in the end was it all worth it? How many people will remember you, or even miss you? Your children? Maybe not even them.
Marcus was looking at his mother for the last time in his life. Swept from him so fast it still felt like a dream, the reality was just kicking in. His sister sobbed at his side, with her face deep in Marcus chest.
"Today we are here to say our goodbyes to (Mariana Smith) Marta (Johnathan Steel) Hister..."The priest mourn.
Everything flashed before his eyes. This was his third victim. Sure, Mariana and Johnny were killed directly by him in his rage attacks. But his mother had died because he left home to another country leaving a sick woman behind. The methods were different, but it was still the same. He had killed his own mother. And that was killing him inside.
Hours passed, filled of people crying, smiling and remembering, but mostly of rumors, rumors of the crazy son she had, the killer, the psycho, the poor insane kid. He was not that, not anymore. Or at least, he hoped.
Just has he prepared to leave something hit him on his cheek with power enough to make him fall into the ground.
It was a fist, a fist connected to a man in his fifties, but still full of energy, his blond hair and green eyes behind the glasses he used showed a similarity with Marcus that could only obtain by blood relationship.
"Dad? What was that for?" Marcus asked looking up still rubbing his cheek.
"That's the first thing you say when seeing your father after five years?" The old man asked.
All the other people attentions was directed to both of them now. Even Waters, that had remain silent and quited away from the place raised his head and smiled to the scene.
"No, let's punch each other's face instead!"
"I punched your face for one reason alone. Why did you left your mother alone?" Marcus never had seen his father so serious in his life. When Marcus was about to answer, a girl, with her majestic hair painted pink and green eyes just like her brother and father, jumped between both of them.
"Stop it dad, if anything this is my fault. I was the one that should be taking care of mother! Marcus was just returning to where he belonged." The girl screamed at his father.
His father looked at her for a second and then to Marcus before turning back and leaving.
Waters approached them shortly after.
"Was that your father?" The giant beast asked Marcus and his sister.
"Yeah, he was. And damn, for a game developer, he sure have a strong punch." Responded Marcus still rubbing his cheek.
Waters patted Marcus in the back and left with him and his sister. Marcus stopped and looked back at the grave of his new victim and whispered a "I'm sorry!" and continued his way, now motherless.

Home Sweet Home

Marcus sat on his bed in his mother's home, with Angela by his side and Jack Waters relaxing in the wall in front of him.
"I still can't believe it." His sister still cried their lost.
"Don't be like that, everyone dies eventually. This was her time, now it's time for you to look up and make something out of your life." Said Waters "And since we are on the topic of making something out of his life... Survive and Conquer?"
"What about it?" Questioned Marcus.
"It's soon, day 27. You can't afford to simply stay there mourning your lost until the day of the match."
"I wont. This is my big chanc..."
"How many times have you said that?" Water interrupted him.
"Many, I know. And I also know most of the times I failed, hard! But I also know that I'm getting better with every single one of those matches. And in S&C I'm going to use everything I learned to be the last one.
And this is my chance to fight people I've been waiting to fight in a long time."
"Alioth Starre? Aspen Chaud? Wake Walker? Tony Miranda?"
"Yeah. I may not have been in the same league as those guys before my training, and when I got back half of them were retired already."
"And you lost against the other half last week."
Marcus grinned his teeth with rage. It was true, he could not deny it, he was the first to fall in his match last week with other five members that would be in that match, Alex Castellanos, Faith Simpson, Aspen Chaud, Tony Miranda, and his current rival, Alexis Terry. The odds were not on his side, but he was used to be the underdog. Didn't he had lost against The Assassin the week before defeating him to be the current number one contender to the GIW Legacy title? So, why couldn't he win this match even though he lost the other one? He could, and he would.
"True, but that was just a joke game, you know I'm always better in the real thing. And I'm going to show you. I'm going to face them and all the other idiots that dare to cross in front of me!"
"All the other 85 wrestlers?"
"Yes, all the other 85 wrestlers if it's needed. I don't have any allies, not even in my own federation. Actually, I think those are the ones I have to be more careful with! But nonetheless, I am used to be the lone warrior and survive, and in that match it will not be an exception! Mark the calendar for it will be the day I'll show Aspen Chaud she shouldn't have forgotten my name! The day Alioth Starre finally loses against me! The day I finally face Wake Walker! The day Alexis Terry understands how much of a threat I am! The day APW learns the name Marcus Hister! And the day I will rise to the to the top of the mountain and crave my name in stone!"
Waters laughed and clapped his hands.
"Mighty words for a no-good for nothing like you are. It will be an interesting match, that I can tell!"
Marcus nodded has he covered his, now sleeping, sister and left the room telling Waters to follow him.
"It's been a long day, I think I'm going to bed too." Said Marcus when Waters existed the room.
"Sure, I need sleep too, tomorrow we'll have a big trip back to America."


I never really got the point of interviews like this one

APW building was quite similar to GIW's one, that wasn't much different than the old UWA arena he had visited once, Marcus suspected that wrestling companies did not changed much between themselves.
"You got all that?" Asked the small fat man in the suit called William Doole.
"No, not really. And don't bother repeating, the chances are that I wont listen anyways." Answered Marcus while he walked to the scheduled interview for APW's website.
"Hister! This is not your normal interview for those people who hate you no matter what you tell them. Not that you tell them nice things anyways. Recently you actually got a fan base, and there's also the tiny fact that this is actually an interview for a completely different fed, and what you say can bring more fans to tune in on our shows, if not to see you, at least to see other people you talk about. So try to mention Chaud, Castellanos and Miranda a lot! Okay?!
"Thanks for the consideration you have of me, Doole. But don't worry, I doubt anyone will click in my interview anyways. I'm barely known in my show, much less in APW."
William sighed has Marcus entered the room for the interview. And yet again, proof that wrestling companies weren't that different, the interviewer was, of course, a pretty face. Marcus wondered if she was as stupid has Sarah Sharp. The odds were against it, as he always found Sarah's stupidity to be admirable, she probably had to try hard to reach that level.
"Hello, I'm Marcus Hister, I'm here for the interview." Said Marcus closing the door.
"Ah, yes. The one from GIW. My name is Cindy Shannon." She looked at him from top to bottom." Funny, I had imagined you more scary... and bigger."
"Most do. But I was just a normal person who had some problems in the past. And since we are talking about it, I would like if we did not talked about that, if possible."
"Of course, of course. I did had some questions, but I can skip them, after all this interview is about wrestling, not people's past." She said scratching something in a paper she had on her hand. Marcus was already liking her more than he did his old 'friend' Sarah. "Can we start, then?"
"Oh, yes of course."
Cindy cleared her throat and looked at the camera smiling.
"Hello, I am Cindy Shannon and I'm here with Marcus Hister from GIW that is participating in this year's Survive and Conquer." She said
"It's a pleasure to be here, Cindy." Marcus replied, trying to be nice.
"Marcus, you're here representing GIW with more eight people, can we expect any kind of alliance with them?"
"Yes and no. Sure there's possible that, since we know each other, we can help throwing one or two people out. But I think the fact that we are from the same federation will actually making us focus each other, as it is more probable to have grudges or rivalries with each other than with people they barely know. Of course, Aspen and Terry are sure to make an alliance if they found each other in the arena at the same time, but for example, being the number one contender to the Legacy Title, I want to eliminate Terry by myself. There's also an unsettled issue with Aspen, but I think she's too egocentric to even have noticed."
"And what is that?"
"Oh, nothing very important. We were just best friends for a long time and now she can't even remember my name. That hurt. But I think a couple slaps to her face will be enough to make her remember!" Marcus laughed and quickly continued "Theres also a couple other people I want to face that come from GIW, mainly Wake Walker, that was reformed and this may be my only chance to fight face-to-face with that legend. And Alioth Starre, that I was never able to defeat, so I would like to be the one throwing him out of that ring."
"I see. So this is a company full of story. But outside of the GIW, is there any other people you find that can be a threat?"
"Yes. All the other wrestlers. If there's something I learned from my matches, is that even the weakest of wrestlers can find a opening and win a match. For a match has big as this one you cannot prepare yourself to every wrestler individually, and so, besides GIW, everyone else is a surprise for me, but I wont be underestimate none of them and I will do everything I have to do to keep on that ring until the end."
"But you are one of the first to enter, with the number 12. You have to admit your chances of winning are quite small having in mind that there's 74 wrestlers coming after you."
"That is true, but coming in first or in last, you always have a chance to win the match, I wont let the fact that I'm one of the earlier in to let me down, with hard work, a few punches, intelligence and drawing attention to other people, I'm sure to reach high!"
"Well, that was all the questions I had for you. Good luck on your match, Mr. Hister."
"Thank you"

I'll probably wont be here next year so I better enjoy it

From the moment he was born to that very single second, Marcus did not had many victories, wrestling or not. He had a brain damage, and he didn't knew when he was going to explode. He had killed his best friend and rival and even worse, he even took the life of the woman he loved. Right there he had failed has a friend, as a boyfriend and even has a normal human being. But he also failed has a wrestler many times, he failed has a brother when he got his sister shot and he had failed has a son when he left the house leaving his mother sick to Death.
Every small victory was a big event for him. When Mariana told him she loved him, when he defeated Waters, every time he was recognized, even if briefly or slightly, in GIW.
Marcus had his opportunities, many times, and failed in most of them. Chances are that he would failed this one too. But he wasn't going to let the chances decide for him.
He would go there and win the match, for his mother, for his friend, for Mariana, Angela, Waters, his dad and for him!
APW, be careful, a beast is coming through. Even if it doesn't look like one!

[vantage]

S C E N E -1-

Vantage sat in the airport lobby waiting for his flight to start. He was on his way to illustrious Survive and Conquer. He had his carry on next to him, and the World Elite Wrestling Universal Title setting on top of the carry on. He had just got done retaining said title against Jaxson Baxter using some…questionable tactics. Using the ropes to give him leverage on his submission hold, followed by his girlfriend Zoey pulling his arm further back, giving him further leverage, till Jaxson just couldn’t take the heat and had to give up. It wasn’t his usual style, but the anger and aggression got the best of him after Jaxson taunted to put his hands on Zoey really paid off, and…he kind of liked it. Suddenly Revelry walks up and plops down next to Vantage. Vantage had given Revelry a taste of the pro wrestling life when his band was on hiatus, now his band was back together for the time being, but the two’s schedules matched up so they decided to travel together.

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
The faster we get on this plane the better, there are some perks in first class calling my name.

Vantage was silent for a moment, confusing Revelry, before finally responding.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
…Rev…you ever feel like you’ve found yourself changing in a way you didn’t expect, and you felt like it was messing with everything you stood for, but, you like it? Like you think maybe you don’t want to change?

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
Hmmm…perhaps…but how about instead of giving me a fortune cookie, you get real with me and tell me specifically what’s going on?

Vantage sighed and proceeded to speak.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Alright. Well, you know all about my match I had with Jaxson, and how I got pissed in ways I didn’t know were possible, and how I proceeded to feed off that aggression, and it lead me to a move, I could’ve gotten disqualified for, had I gotten caught.

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
Yeah…what’s your point?

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Well…feeding off my aggression like that, I liked it. I mean, normally I’m driven by competition, I do everything I can to win by the book, and as quickly as possible, to prove to everybody, that I’m that damn good. That I’m the best! But…there was something about feeding on that anger, about just trying to hurt my opponent…about using any means necessary to do so, that just gave me a rush. Ya know? What do you think?

Revelry looked at Vantage with a blank stare for a few moments, giving a blink or two and raising his eye brow.

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
…I think you’re loony.

Vantage slugged him in the arm, and Revelry let out a chuckle. Vantage crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
I’m serious man! Everything I know about me is being questioned! The Vantage that rose from nothing to the top within 6 months of entering the pro wrestling world isn’t the Vantage I was at Winter Warzone. Is that good? Bad? Neutral? I’m having a serious identity crisis here!

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
Well, V, if you ask me. I think you need to stick with what brought you to the dance. Maybe all this aggression you’ve been having lately is part of some man-period…I mean, scientists have proven that men have a time of the month where hormones rise too…

Revelry waited for a response trying to hold back his laughter and Vantage slugged him even harder than before. Revelry burst out laughing and slid back down into his seat.

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
Seriously though…it probably is just a phase. In the mean time, just stick to what your best at, being the cockiest, most arrogant, smart-ass bastard known to pro wrestling! It’ll fade away…

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
…Maybe you’re right…

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
Of COURSE I’m right!

As he said this Revelry crossed his legs, and put his hands behind his head to relax, and Vantage got up, running towards the parking lot.

“Pure Entertainment – Revelry”
Where are you going!?!

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
To be the cockiest, most arrogant, smart-ass bastard known to pro wrestling!

Revelry stared as Vantage ran off and shrugged, he knew it’d be pointless to try and stop him now, even if Vantage was gonna miss his flight. The scene faded to black

S C E N E -2-

The scene opens up outside an obscure night club in an unknown location. Music can be heard pumping loud from the inside, and lights are flashing too and fro. Suddenly we see a grinning Vantage walk up to the door wearing some nice high class jeans, new and fresh looking chuck taylors, a wallet chain, and a white V-neck with an urban blazer, his fohawk is done up nice and pretty, and he looks ready for a night on the town. He leans up against the wall and the camera zooms in towards his face. He begins to speak.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Alright guys! So I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m at a club of all places, Vantage has always been a man of rock! Right? Well, as you know! I’m participating in the illustrious, multi-organizational, 80+ man battle royal, slash cage match, slash street fight, slash Hell in a Cell, slash Ladder match, that is known as Survive and Conquer! Well…with so many unfamiliar faces, and unfamiliar activities, I decided I needed to get into the mindset of thriving in an unfamiliar atmosphere! So I decided to come to a club! It’s full of strange people, strange things, and strange activities, that a white bread cracker like me isn’t used to at all! …Well…let’s see if the New-Age Nature Boy has what it takes to be elite and far beyond defeat in unknown territory! Shall we?

At that Vantage walks in to the club and the atmosphere around him completely changes, there are random colors flashing around, a black light making V’s white tshirt glow a light purple tint. His face is changing colors as lights flash across it, and he walks at a brisk pace. Suddenly a few hot girls walked up to Vantage, and were pointing at him yelling, “You gotta dance! You gotta dance!” Vantage stood there pondering it for a moment and shrugged before breaking out into his best version of a disco. Hand flying back and forth up and down, with a signature disco point just banging his head, really getting into it. Suddenly, the girls just yell, “Not like thaaaaaaattt!!!” They walk away and Vantage watches them confused as she does so, once they’re out of sight, Vantage shrugs it off and continues walking. He approaches these guys with some leather jackets and their hears spiked, collar popped, with their hands in their pockets trying desperately hard to hit on these girls that were at least 10 years younger than them.

“Sketchy Guy – Todd”
Hey baby…you know what has 100 teeth and holds back the incredible hulk?

“Innocent Girl – Jess”
…What’s that?

“Sketchy Guy – Todd”
My zipper sweet thing.

Vantage pointed to his tongue and made a gagging motion. He kept walking and saw these guys with glow sticks, and knee pads, licking the walls and doing cartwheels, and was dumbfounded. He came up to a corner, with a bunch of guys who looked as awkward and lost as him. He gathered with them in the corner, and leaned over to another guy asking who the glow stick guys were, and the other man told him they were the club kids. Vantage looked at them one last time and shrugged leaning back against the wall, in the corner of his ear, he hears a man go, “I don’t even know how I got here.” And a man next him replies, “Me either…you have any extra kneepads?” Suddenly a young woman runs up to him and explodes into dialogue.

“Girl who LOVES E! – Maria”
Dude! You gotta try this drug called E! It’ll help ya feel the music!

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
…I don’t even like this music, I’m not sure I wanna take the next step.

The girl rolled her eyes and grabbed Vantage by the shoulders briskly.

“Girl who LOVE E! – Maria”
Fine! But, I’m about to do some, and you have to make sure I drink enough water….or I could die!

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
I didn’t even wanna be the designated driver! Now I’m the paramedic all of a sudden?

The girl put her hands on her hips and looked at him for a few moments before Vantage finally gave in.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Alright, alright, alright…here…

Vantage grabbed a bottle of water and tipped the guy behind it before handing it to the girl and leaning back against the wall.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Drink up…

So he waited and watched, the girl drank the water, and proceeded to do her drug. After a bit, she falls down to the floor, eyes shut. As hers closed Vantage’s opened wide and scared, he leaned down and put his fingers on her wrist…no pulse. Vantage proceed to stick his hands in his blazer pockets, and walk out of the club whistling casually. He had certainly ventured into the unknown, but one thing was for sure, even if he developed a taste for P-Diddy and Gaga, he’d never come here again. The scene faded to black.

S C E N E -3-

The scene opens up and we find ourselves in downtown Miami, cars whizzing by, the sidewalks busy, and Vantage in a little less populated area over to the side. He leans up against the wall, with his “Position to win T-Shirt,” a pair of jeans with his signature chuck taylors, a wallet chain, and a belt buckle. The camera zooms in, and Vantage hoists himself up to where he is holding his weight with his feet and no longer leaning, and begins to speak.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Alright guys, it’s that time again, the time you all crave, when all of you talentless wastes of space get to see me talk! That’s right, I’m talking, promo time!

A young couple with a stroller walked by in front of the screen as Vantage paused and he shot them a dirty look. He rolled his eyes and shrugged it off.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Anywho! As you know this coming week I am in Survive and Conquer! The biggest match this side of Omaha! It’ll be tough bu…

An old woman with a walker walked across the screen this time, stopping Vantage in mid sentence. He held his arms up as if to say, “What the crap?” and yelled the following.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Hey! Hey granny! Can’t you see we’re shooting a video here!? Go the other way around!

But the elderly lady just kept on walking. Vantage didn’t know anything he could do so he continued into the promo.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
Anyways, as I was saying, it’ll be tough, but the guy who is ALWAYS in a position to win, WILL reign victorious. I’m the universal champion for a reason, I’m the best for a reason, and I’ll win Survive and Conquer for a reason! Because I truly am Mr. Amazing baby! The man with a million lines will over come no matter what the odds, or the people. They’re all just schmucks. Whether from WEW, APW, or any other promotion, when they stand next to…

At that a young hipster walked by with some headphones in, sipping coffee, and Vantage yelled at him and ran him off.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
That’s it! I swear! If one more person walks through my camera shot, I’ll go bazerk! This is a professional environment and I don’t need the untalented civilians, screwing up my promo!

Vantage stood there fuming, it was like the anger that took him over when he faced Jaxson wouldn’t leave. It was understandable before, but now he had no legitimate reason for this unfightable rage. Something inside him just had the inner most desire to hurt something. He took a deep breath and tried to finish up.

“Your very own Mr. Amazing – Vantage”
…Like I was saying…when they stand next to me, they fade in comparison! Because I am the vintage Vantage, and I’m elite and far beyond defeat! And when I enter V mode, no one will be able to stop me. Cause when you face me…I always get the 1-2-3. Or in this case, just stand abo…

Suddenly a middle aged man, presumably a teacher or professor of some sort, carrying a briefcase walked through the shot. Vantage stood there fuming, and without warning, ran towards him and clotheslined him into the ground, throwing punch after punch to his face, one could assume his skull was cracked, and it was obvious his nose was now bleeding. Vantage yelled as he punched. “Get! Out! Of my! Shot!” Suddenly the police came up from behind Vantage and slowly but surely fought the struggling Vantage off of the innocent man. Still fighting their grasps and struggling to free himself and run back towards the man, Vantage was handcuffed, and shoved into the cop car. As the car drove off it could only make one wonder where this sudden anger in Vantage was coming from, and this desire to hurt people. And the biggest question, was this a Vantage we should get used to seeing? The screen faded to black as the car drove out of the shot, and paramedic began tending to the man on the sidewalk.

-Vintage Vantage-

[arcangel]

The camera is closely focused on the weary bloodshot eyes of ArcAngel. As the camera pans out, the state of ArcAngel is apparent. His hair is matted… his face is long. His clothes are creased and wrinkled like he hasn’t changed in a couple of days. He sits bent over in the partial darkness. Clutched between his hands is a photograph from his youth. It was the only thing he really had held on to. His breathing is shallow almost as if it wasn’t automatic he would have given up a long time ago. He stares a hole through the back of the photograph. There are words written on the back. The color of the script is evident but the words are not. They are distorted… smudged… ArcAngel runs his thumb over them again as if erasing them will solve the solution. But it does not… nothing changes… no sudden light… no sound of her voice… nothing but the darkness creeping in… nothing but the stress keeping him awake all hours of the night. He flips the photograph over and looks at her face. He lets out an angry growl. Standing from his seat, he picks up the chair and throws it at the wall.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way. No innocent was to be involved. But you went and spoiled that didn’t you. You went and changed the rules.”

His breathing increases with his feral rage as he stands up wearily.

“I do not know how you found out about her… or how long you have known but I swear to you… you harm her… and hell will feel like a freezer compared to the way I burn you.”

ArcAngel paces around the darkened room.

“She was my only light in the darkened world of my youth. She was the one that took solace in me and showed me the world was not as cold as I thought it to be. She was a friend of mine… a friend I have not seen in over eight years.

I was flawed, as flawed as one could be, when I was younger. I was an abomination to society. The usual late nights with the wrong crowd… playing with the criminal element... flirting with the darkness of it all. I never had a family. He never had a mother and a father. They left me to survive on my own. I was placed in an orphanage. I learned to hold my own against the older children. They would steal your things while you slept and lie through their teeth when they were confronted. You learn from your influences. But one day… one day late in autumn, when the leaves were the color of fire, she appeared. The doors to the city bus opened and she stepped off. In that instant you could almost see the heavenly light radiating from her mesmerizing form. I followed her for a small distance up the block before she disappeared into the oak doors of the church. I tell you, I went there every week for a few months, sitting in the back pews, not really paying attention to the sermons, but to this girl who had entered my world. I knew she saw me for every so often she would glance back. I would hide my face hoping not to be discovered. One day, the group of ‘friends’ I hung out with spotted her leaving the grocery store. As a prank, they decided to knock the shopping bag out of her hands. I couldn’t stop them and before I knew what happened next, I found myself helping her pick up her fruits and bread and milk. Her eggs were smashed all over the pavement. There was no saving them. She didn’t say a word but I could feel the disappointment in her eyes. She gathered her groceries and headed home while I stood there like a dolt.

The next day after school, I stopped by that store and bought a dozen eggs. I walked to her house and set them on the front porch before pressing the doorbell and walking away. Chalk that up to strange things you do. The following day I was leaving school. There was a circle of people on the edge of the grounds. I could hear a girl yelling to be left alone. It was her. It was them. It was the guys I had hung out with. Apparently they didn’t take too kindly to my thoughtful actions the other day, and rather than face me they decided to take it out on her. Her books were scattered on the ground and her jacket was in the hands of one of the guys I had known the longest. The strangest sensation came over me. Without hesitation my fist flew out and caught him by surprise. He dropped to the ground stunned. I never knew if it was the impact of my fist or the sting of betrayal that had wounded him and in that moment and all the moments afterwards, I never cared. The other two left hastily, shoving her to the ground as they fled. I held my hand out and she took it. I helped her to her feet and every day for the rest of high school I walked her home. We went to church together every Sunday. She showed me what decency was all about. She told me I was her guardian angel.”

ArcAngel stops walking and runs his hand slowly through his hair before tugging on a fist full of it.

“But those friends of mine would get the last laugh. They framed me for a robbery they had committed. They placed cash and a gun amongst my possessions and called the police. I was arrested and sent to jail for six years. I spent my time reading and improving my body. When I got out… she was gone. Her house was empty… her parents had moved away with her and there was no forwarding address. I had lost the light that brightened my life. I stood there for hours in front of her house in the pouring spring rain uncertain what to do with my life. She had given me hope and I set out to try to do what was right. I tried to right what wrongs I could.”

ArcAngel releases the hold on his hair and begins pacing again.

“But it was not easy getting a decent job when you are about six foot nine inches with a muscled frame and a jail record. I worked as a bouncer to try and make ends meet. I entered an underground fighting league that basically paid you small folds of money for buckets of blood. I paid back debts that I owed… I gave donations to the local churches for the cities I would pass through. I did everything that I could during my travels to find my Madelyn…

Madelyn was her name you know. It was a name that would feel like a fresh breeze when it flowed from your lips. But now it feels like the wind has been knocked out of me all over again.”

ArcAngel shakes his head.

I have yet to see her. I have yet to hear from her. I do not make a habit of making deals with the devil or his son… but she is worth it. She is worth my damnation. The demons drove her from me and I will bargain to get her back.”

ArcAngel stands in silence for a moment.

“I will not rest until I get my answers. It has been a long time since I slept properly and the less I sleep, the more demented my thoughts of retribution become. I have played politely with you all along. I have showed compassion and mercy not only to you but the others that are like you. I have been an angel of mercy far too long. I have let you have your way with me. I have allowed you to play your mind games long enough. You… your followers… fate and his twisted path… will all be cleansed with the fire of Revelations. I am the way, the truth and the light… I am your Omega.”

ArcAngel turns away from the faint light of the room.

“I know one of you knows something. I ask at every city and town I visit. I show them this photograph and they look at me as if I am odd. But some ask and I tell them. At the end I look at them. ‘Now that you have heard my story, how do you feel now? As foolish as you look?’ You do not understand the position I have been placed in. You wouldn’t begin to comprehend the depths of this situation. Instead you rush to judgment on a situation you only have partial knowledge about. Once again you have made a mental error. As for any of your idle threats to stop me from making it to the end? You and those who are like you are nothing more than a pair of false prophets. I am still standing. I am not the one who shall end up with another broken dream wrapped around my head. I need to know what happened to her and I know you are the one to tell me. I shall do what is necessary to gain the information I seek. When I am done the painful part of extracting… perhaps you will ask… Why didn’t I finish the job? Because I showed you something that is worth more than your broken body. I showed you pity, remorse, and mercy all rolled into one. I showed you that I would only be pushed so far. I showed you restraint. I showed you a strength that you will never have and that is strength of character.”

ArcAngel points up and down himself.

“But I suppose that this restraint is fading fast. I need my answers, from any of you or all of you. This is not just a physical battle but this is a battle for knowledge.”

He walks under the dim light, back and forth, back and forth, stuck in a methodical pace.

“Yet there is another opponent. There is another man I must contend with. Please understand that I mean no disrespect to you lord but I must deal with this situation. I must handle this the best way that I can. I am being brutally honest with you; I do not care if I win. I do not care if I win the confrontation before me. The last thing I want to see is someone walk away who may know something about where she is. Help me find the truth. I asked for a sign and you delivered me to this place. You took care of the preparations for going into this match. Now let me be to my methods. I need to do what must be done. The guilty must suffer. The guilty will be weighted and judged. The truth will be cut from their flesh. They may heal but there will be painful memories because this battle? It will be one that leaves scars on us all. Some of those scars may run deeper than others. But none run as deep as my loss. I have no intention of disrespecting you. ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ and that will be upholded by the thinnest of strings. But you do understand that this has become a battleground. You can expect us to be surrounded at any given time by trials and tribulations but we need to take arms to fight for what is needed. ‘Do unto others as you would have done unto you.’ What has been done to me was my happiness was taken away. Why can I not take theirs? But if you object… If it comes down to that… will I have to watch my back? I’ll be your little ray of sunshine beaming directly into the abyss of absolute anarchy. Not necessarily the brightest of situations for you I suppose but I doubt it’ll end cleanly for anybody anyways. Hey, who knows… it might get messier than they would ever expect… they just need to give me the truth lord. They need to tell me where she is…”

ArcAngel stops underneath the light bulb. He licks his fingers and reaches up. Slowly he begins unscrewing the light bulb. The glass is hot against his fingertips. The light source flickers before turning the room into absolute darkness. ArcAngel’s deep voice fills the room.

“And in the darkness there shall be light. There shall be hope. There shall be faith that the world will become anew. Take the candle of your hope, your faith, and share it. Another will spark, another wick will burn, another candle will light. At first it will appear like pin-pricked stars in the night sky. That hope… that faith… that belief in goodness will spread like wildfire until the light will blind and bind the darkness bringing forth the sun.

As Sarah Williams said… ‘Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect night, I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.’ ”

There are a few flicks of a lighter and a small flame emerges. It twists in the slow breeze of movement. The sound of departing footsteps can be heard echoing throughout the room as ArcAngel leaves it blanketed in inky blackness.

~*~

ArcAngel arrives in the arena parking lot. The taxi stops near the front entrance to the stadium. ArcAngel grabs the car door handle with his right hand and pulls on the lever. The door swings open and all six foot nine of ArcAngel steps out. The taxi driver opens the trunk to the car. He scurries out of the driver’s seat and back to the trunk to retrieve ArcAngel’s luggage. A couple of dark black duffel bags emerge and the driver hands them over one by one to the Juggernaut. ArcAngel sets the bags down on the curb and pulls out a roll of money from his pocket. He pulls off a few bills and hands them to the grateful driver. With a slight wave, the taxi driver returns to his vehicle and departs. ArcAngel bends down and collects his bags. With a quick pivot, ArcAngel heads towards the building. As he nears the doors, a security guard stands up from the metal chair he had been seated in. He steps in front of ArcAngel and places his hand squarely in the middle of ArcAngel’s chest.

”I’m going to need to see some identification before I can allow you to go any further… policy and all that.”

ArcAngel nods and sets down his bags. He reaches into the left front pocket of his black cargo khakis with his left hand and slowly pulls out his wallet. ArcAngel opens his wallet and shows the security guard his identification. The guard examines the picture closely and then looks at ArcAngel’s face in comparison.

”That’ll do…”

ArcAngel rolls his eyes and returns his wallet back into the depths of his pocket. The security guard opens the door for ArcAngel and holds it open as the big man picks up his bags and enters the arena. The door swings closed as ArcAngel begins to walk down the hallway. The natural light reflects off of the recently cleaned floor creating square window-like reflections. ArcAngel watches them bend and move with each heavy step that he takes. A janitor is sweeping the floor up ahead with a long push broom while another person changes the black garbage bag in the nearby garbage bin. ArcAngel moves past them and continues his hunt for his temporary locker room. It takes ArcAngel a few minutes to reach it and when he does he finds the door already ajar.

He places one forearm up against the door and pushes it open as he enters the room. Dark blue walls and a light colored floor create the framework. A potted plant stands in the far corner of the room and a couple of long leather couches fill in the middle. ArcAngel sets his bags down near the wall just inside the door and walks across the room to a small beer fridge that is sitting not far from the potted plant. He leans over and swings the fridge door open. The only thing left inside is a half empty bottle of Coke. ArcAngel closes the door relatively unsatisfied with the results. He crosses the room halfway and goes to sit on one of the couches. Unfortunately the substandard condition of the couch and the crumbs upon it divert his intentions. ArcAngel sits down on the second of the two couches and leans back closing his eyes. Some of the tension in his body seems relieved as ArcAngel quietly relaxes. His tired eyes close and seem thankful for the chance to rest. For some reason he cannot find sleep, his mind is too busy thinking.

”Soon I shall go up against a mountain. This is one of the largest competitions in any federation I have seen. But then again I am no small man. I do hold a height advantage over some which might mean absolutely nothing. I have strength that has broken many. My opponents, you can waste all of your time with your pitiful actions trying to forge some sort of imagery with me in the ring. You can visualize and analyze but explain to me why I should be worried when I see some such as you? Names and faces I do not know nor care to know. ArcAngel… yes I have already heard a handful of jokes over the years. I have been called many things. I have been called a fairy. A flying joke, ‘Nothing more than a porcelain angel,’ I believe one man said. Funny thing with that story was… he ended up with more porcelain in his mouth. I understand the feeble connection those pathetically undersized brains made. But as for the last one… you can clearly tell I am not made of porcelain, I am made of hard bone, muscled mass and tough flesh. Those things are increasingly more difficult to destroy than poured plaster.

I do not have a place of recognition here. I do not fit well into this society of athletes. None of you know who I am and I know none of you. Perhaps that is for the best. Some of you have your mental impediments while I have my social ones. But that is the way we have molded and shaped ourselves to deal with our so called existences. I know the pain of loneliness as much as some of you do. I know the needs and wants. This does not mean that I will show you sympathy and understanding. This just means I have no understanding of what you are going through. But I guess the real question is in fact; do you understand what you are going through?

Do you have the mental capacity to understand what will happen when you face me and you do not tell me what I need to know about my Madelyne?"

His large hand seemed to reach up and linger over the place he often kept her photograph.

"Perhaps not. Perhaps you must learn to loosen your lips. Perhaps this is one of those lessons that must be beaten into you blow after forceful blow. Each nailed point driven in with the hammer of a closed fist. The wet slaps... the crunching smacks of knuckles on bloodied flesh. Perhaps that is what it will take to make you realize that this is no situation to take lightly. Bite your tongue and I shall force you to bite it clean through. I have waited to find her and now I have an opportunity to reach out to many I would never have crossed paths with. There are competitors here from all parts of the globe. Perhaps my ideas that she was still here in the States was misguided. Perhaps I should broaden my horizons. Perhaps if I should win the prize money I will spend it travelling from place to place to find her. But first I must handle business and find out what these others know.”

ArcAngel hears a few voices out in the hallway becoming louder as they approach. ArcAngel opens his eyes and turns to have a look at the doorway behind him. He waits several moments as the voices pass by the doorway and nobody enters the room. ArcAngel turns back around and folds his arms across his chest. He leans back against the couch once again and allows his eyes to close.

“For those thinking you are going to waltz in and win? Someone will get rid of you. Some of you will realize that you are no longer the dominating force you once were. If it comes down to it… perhaps you can mount a sizeable offence against me but in the end that doesn’t matter. If you had seen how I move in that ring the last few matches I fought, you will come to understand that I can take the punishment that is handed out and still pull off an upset victory. My last few encounters in any ring… my offence has been somewhat limited but it has still been able to complete the tasks set before me. You all can keep your challenged actions and goofy grins and I shall gladly keep a victory from you. Right now it seems merely fun and games but I assure you that when we meet face to face that is where the fun ends. Look me in my eyes from behind that false mask of your confidence and you will quickly realize that it is all business. No jokes… no schoolhouse fireworks… no porcelain angels, just my flesh and your flesh and our desire to take the life and the dreams from the other…

He took a small moment to let his mind wander, and then refocused his thoughts and words.

“Survive and Conquer? I suppose it could be stated as this… You need to survive to conquer and conquer to survive. Reminds me of my personal motto, some of you will experience it firsthand. Brutally honest and honestly brutal…”

The door to the locker room comes bursting open as a young stadium employee struggles his way into the room with another employee of the female variety. The employees thump against the wall and then fall down to the ground enthralled in passionate advances. He reaches down and her shirt unzips. ArcAngel opens his eyes at the interruption and slightly clears his throat. He seemingly startled the two. A few personal items almost fall out as she suddenly sits up and the female employee sheepishly begins to cover herself up. The male employee looks up to see ArcAngel watching his actions and his face turns a deeper shade of red. His hands and fingers… all of his body became clumsy as his embarrassment level rises.

“Do not worry, I won’t tell. Your secret is safe with me…”

The employee seems to relax a bit as he finally stands up and helps his friend. With a huge sigh of relief he wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his light blue colored sleeve. He turns and exits the room quickly holding her hand, leaving ArcAngel alone again. ArcAngel returns to his semi-restful state on the couch.

“I suppose I should have told them to use a condom. Tis always better to be safe than sorry...”

[Azrael Goeren]

The sound of dead leaves being blown in the wind is the only audible noise on this blustery morning in Eberswalde, Germany. An elderly man sweeps the walkway in front of a quaint red cottage home on the outskirts of the village, leaning down momentarily to pluck a stray leaf that has gotten stuck in between the iron gate spokes. The man is wrapped up tightly and pulls his overcoat close to his chest, fighting off the brutal chill that this January morning has to offer. He rests his broom up against the gate and exhales loudly, reaching for his thermos of coffee before stopping in-between sips to listen to the growing rumbling that is emanating from far down the road.

Barreling down the isolated street is a white limousine that barely takes a moment's rest at the traffic signs before it screeches to a halt in front of the beautiful country estate. The driver exits the limo and smiles, looking like he's briefly overjoyed at the moment of silence he has to himself. With a shake of his head however, the driver makes his way back over to the rear of the limousine and pops the passenger door open.

Old Man: Entschuldigen Sie, aber Sie können nicht einfach ...

Goeren: My dear octogenarian, I can park this vehicle wherever I damn well please. This is...after all...my home.

Stepping out from the limousine is the flamboyantly deranged CWC World Heavyweight Champion Azrael Goeren, dressed in a ridiculously garish and puffy bearskin coat, a satin black shirt and pair of disturbingly tight black leather pants. He caps off the insane ensemble with a pair of black jack boots and his Dolce and Gabanna red-tinted sunglasses. Goeren instantly shivers as he steps out of the warm confines of his limousine, glancing around about him.

Goeren: For Christ's sake, they still haven't built a Starbucks around here? Sure, we'll build a thousand idiotic beer halls to cater to the tourists, but I have to drive all the way to Berlin for a tall half-skinny half-1 percent extra hot split quad shot latte? Heathens!

Old Man: Herr...Herr Goeren! Was machst du denn hier?

Goeren: Please friend, speak in English. Whenever the tourists hear two natives speaking German, they assume we're up to racial cleansing again. You can speak English, can't you?

Old Man: Yes, of course.

Goeren: Wunderbar!

The irony is apparently lost on Azrael.

Old Man: What are you doing here, Herr Goeren? I didn't expect you...

Goeren: I don't think I've ever seen you old-timer.

Old Man: I lived next door to you and your parents for thirty years.

Goeren: Huh...

Old Man: You used to call me Herr Meier when you were a boy and I'd look after you while your parents where conducting business.

Goeren: Nope, still nothing. You didn't try to molest me did you?

Meier: Absolutely not!

Goeren: That was very wise of you. But my memory is still fuzzy, you'd figure a face like yours I'd instantly remember. Looks like an aborted Picasso.

Meier: You left me in charge of your parents’ house before you went to America to wrestle?

Goeren: Hmmmmmm...

Meier: You made me convert it into a stupid museum about you?

Goeren: Herr Meier! You old boy-loving curmudgeon, now I remember you! And how is my precious museum, no doubt taking bookings months in advance?

Meier: Actually, we're pretty much open and...

Goeren: That was a silly question. I'm sure you have to fight off my adoring fans with police batons! Come! Show me the inside, I trust the latest remodeling went well?

Meier: It would have gone a lot smoother if you didn't insist on faxing us new blueprints every three hours. We had four of our contractors quit because they refused to work under such...fluid...conditions.

Goeren: Ach, they clearly weren't men of vision then! Besides, I keep getting new ideas! Do you have any idea how creative one's mind gets when you mix Red Bull with Oxycontin?

Meier: Can't say that I do.

Goeren: That's okay, you're fairly inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

Meier: Thank you?

Goeren: You're welcome. Now lead on, friend! I can't wait to see what you've done with the place!

Azrael takes a step towards the walkway that leads up to his childhood home, only to stop at the front gate. He clears his throat loudly before Herr Meier gets the point and opens the gate for him. Azrael struts up the walkway with his old neighbor in tow before stopping at the front door.

Goeren: Have you been reading my prearranged notes for each tour group?

The old man rolls his eyes.

Meier: Yes, Herr Goeren. Although most of them tend to get a little tired after the ten minute mark.

Goeren: Really? What part do they trail off at?

Meier: Somewhere between "Best Dressed Man in Dusseldorf" and "Creator of the Lean, Mean Goeren Grilling Machine".

Azrael ponders the situation for a moment, rubbing his chin slightly.

Goeren: Nein, you can't take either of those out. Tell you what, I'll re-write the introduction speech. Maybe throw something in there about dragons, that ought to keep them alive and perky for the tour. When we get in the museum, I want you to give the first part of the current speech.

Meier: You want me to recite it...for you?

Goeren: Of course! How do I know you're truly encompassing the raw emotion of my beautifully crafted words?

Without further ado, but much to Herr Meier's chagrin, Azrael opens the door to the "museum" and steps inside. The main vestibule, that at one point was no doubt a tastefully crafted country villa setting, has been perverted with Azrael's face along with various pieces of memorabilia plastered on every possible location. Two large spiral staircases lead up to the second floor and are each draped with giant red velvet banners that feature the letters "A" and "G". Ridiculous oil paintings of Azrael doing things like climbing Mount Everest and tearing down the Berlin Wall with a sledgehammer adorn the walls along with actual photographs from Azrael's wrestling matches.

Goeren looks to be in complete ecstasy, his own deluded self-image staring back at him at every turn. He gives Herr Meier a nudge with his elbow, signaling him to start the speech that he forces the old man to give to every visitor.

Meier: Welcome friends to the only official Henrik "Azrael" Goeren Preservation Museum in the known universe. Celebrate our Megastar's life and successful journey in the sport of professional wrestling, from his humble yet brutal start in underground fight clubs to his eventual voyage to the American promotions. Watch in awe as he wins match after match against vicious and cruel opponents, fighting for truth...justice...and the Goeren way.

Herr Meier hangs his head in shame after being forced through the same tired speech one more time. Azrael stares at him for a moment before he very calmly asks him a question.

Goeren: My dear friend...do you WANT me to contact Mossad about your activities during the war? That was horrible! I've heard more entertaining speeches given at funerals! Funerals for accountants! You need to speak with some pep! Some pizazz! You need to get excited! My fans come to this museum en masse because they want to feel the warmth of their Megastar and CWC World Heavyweight Champion on a personal level! They can only rub their nude bodies up against the television for so long, it's not the same thing! I want them to touch and feel pieces of Goerenicana!

Meier: Actually, most people come here to try and find out how you turned into such a sociopathic raving lunati...

Azrael waves off his elderly associate, stopping him in mid-sentence. He takes a few steps forward before glancing off into the next room.

Goeren: Okay, we're going to continue the tour...but I want you to read these new cards I wrote for you. These cards chronicle my childhood in this place, a period of my life that I know many of my wrestling constituents have been dying to find out about.

Herr Meier is legitimately stunned. He's been asked hundreds of times over the years...from townsfolk...from wrestling journalists...about the way that Azrael was raised. He could only tell them the brief snippets that he knew, how Azrael's parents were good people out in public and seemed to be very charitable and loving towards their only son. But in the back of Herr Meier's mind, he always suspected something far worse. How can a man as twisted and self-serving as Azrael Goeren come from two nurturing and well-off parents? And now...he was about to learn the truth.

Goeren: Does that meet with your approval?

Meier: Ye...Yes. It does. What made you finally want to talk about your past? You've always...you know...shied away from it.

Goeren: Call it my gift to my fans. My effort to be completely transparent to the wrestling community at large. As their world champion, they deserve to know the truth.

Azrael digs into his fur coat pocket and pulls out a stack of index cards that are wrapped tightly with a rubber band. He hands them slowly over to Herr Meier and takes a step into the next room which is even more obnoxious than the first. Title belts are held behind glass cases. Pictures of Azrael hobnobbing with Hollywood celebrities and German politicians are shown. Three life-size mannequins dot each wall, each featuring a garish Azrael ring outfit from various points in his career. Finally, a raised stage has been constructed over what once must have been a living room, the entire stage shrouded in darkness. Azrael approaches one of the glass cabinets and smiles to himself as Herr Meier starts to apprehensively read the cards that delve into Goeren's past.

Meier: Henrik Aron Goeren was born on August 28th, 1977. It has been reported that upon his entry into this world, his delivery doctor commented on his tremendous...baby physique?

Herr Meier raises an eyebrow, but continues.

Meier: Within an hour of delivery, all of the hospital's nurses flocked to see the infant Megastar, some fainting due to his stunning infant-style good looks and well-rounded vocabulary? What the hell...?

Goeren: Continue! Continue!

Meier: It was reported that Azrael was already speaking fluent English a few days after his birth and even rescued several other recently-born children from a deadly influenza strain that had been released in the birth ward by dangerous...minorities...? You...you aren't really going to tell the public anything, are you?

Azrael gives a knowing smile and shrug of his shoulders.

Goeren: What are you talking about? That's pure concentrated truth you are carrying in your hands my friend!

Meier: Concentrated bullshit.

Goeren: What was that?

Meier: Nothing.

Goeren: Damn straight. Now flip the switch!

With a look of absolute disgust and disappointment on his face, the elderly man walks over to one of the side panels in the room and flips a light switch. The dark stage immediately erupts in a gold and red laser show with a banner slowly coming down from the ceiling that reads "CWC World Heavyweight Champion". Images from his involvement in the CWC are shown, from his debut in the Showcase Championship match to a VERY recent picture of him defending his championship against Kurt Noble at Destiny. Azrael slowly climbs the stage with his arms stretched out, bathing in his own glory. He slowly turns, that twisted visceral grin still painted across his face.

Goeren: Beautiful, isn't it? This is why I came home today my dear Herr Meier. Sometimes, when I'm off fighting the disgusting vermin that infests wrestling promotions today, I need to be reminded that everything I'm doing is for the best. They throw mean-spirited accusations at me but they are simply too deluded to know that I bring nothing but prosperity and honor to every card I wrestle on. In a few short days, I compete in one of the greatest wrestling events in the world...APW's Survive and Conquer.

Meier: I know, trust me...I know. I handed out those publicity flyers that you faxed over earlier in the week.

Goeren: See? And who said you were as useless as tits on a bull?

Meier: You did. In your last fax.

Goeren: That must have been a translation error. You know as well as I do how important this match is to my career. After being forced into a handicap match at the last Overdrive show...and trust me, wrestling Noble and Blade is the true definition of "handicapped", I realize now that I was being far too soft on the folks over at APW. I initially wanted them to realize that the right thing for them to do is simply announce me as the winner before the match begins, as that would send all of the paying fans home happy. But now...now I realize that they're going to be difficult.

Azrael walks back down the steps and pinches the cheek of his elderly companion.

Goeren: I find that to be absolute adorable. I honestly prefer them to be difficult, I like that. It does it for me. Because then, in that match, I can force them to recognize me as the greatest wrestler on the planet. I have the title that proves that, but sometimes we all need a little reminder. Isn't that right, Herr Meier?

Meier: ...yes, Herr Goeren.

Goeren: Now then, show me the merchandise room that you built for me! Hopefully you got the latest officially licensed Azrael Goeren convection oven in stock! I hear cancer reports are down 15% from the last model! That's progress baby!

Meier: Wait, Herr Goeren! Don't go in there!

Azrael, of course, ignores what was said to him as he bolts off into the direction of a room across the hall. He grabs hold of the double door handles and pushes in, expecting to see yet another shrine to his visage. Instead, Azrael's arms drop to his side in bewilderment. Staring back at him is his parents' bedroom, completely untouched from the day they died in a car accident when he was fourteen.

Azrael called for the room to be remodeled or demolished.

His instructions were clearly ignored.

Herr Meier catches up to Azrael in the doorway, staring up at his cold face. Azrael's eyes move from piece to piece in total silence. His parents' bed. His mother's vanity mirror with all of her beautiful jewelry still intact. His father's closet still open with all of his freshly pressed suits. Azrael takes a step into the room...very slowly, as if his own body is rejecting its surroundings.

Meier: I'm...I'm so sorry, Herr Goeren. I just couldn't touch this room. Max and Anna...they were good friends with my wife and I, God Bless all of their souls. I couldn't tear it all down.

Azrael approaches his mother's vanity and spots several photographs dotting the small table. His parents together on their honeymoon. His parents standing outside the house when they first purchased it. And finally, a picture of a three year old Henrik Goeren playing with his parents during Christmas. Azrael takes hold of the photograph and stares down into the happy smiles that stare back at him, reminding him of what he had.

What he once was.

Meier: Your parents were good people, Henrik. They loved you.

Azrael finally speaks in a hoarse, guttural voice.

Goeren: My parents abandoned me when I needed them the most.

Meier: They...they died.

Goeren: THEY ABANDONED ME!

Azrael turns and throws the picture against the far wall, the glass shattering upon impact. He storms out of the room and moves fluidly down the hallway and into what used to be the old kitchen, now converted into a showroom with all of Azrael's horrendous products taking up space on the kitchen counters. He pulls out a chair from a red and black table set that features his smiling face on it and sits down with his arms folded out in front of him, his head down on the table. Herr Meier dutifully follows, but stays a careful distance behind his employer just in case Azrael starts to lose it again.

Goeren: Tea. Please.

Meier: Excuse me?

Goeren: Make me some tea. Please.

Without so much as another word, Herr Meier pulls out one of the nearest drawers, searching for the proper contents.

Goeren: Top cabinet to your left. Behind the substitute Azrael Goeren sugar-based flavoring. Make sure to use real sugar though, that shit will cause hysterical pregnancy.

The old man grabs the ingredients and a kettle and starts to prepare Goeren's drink. Azrael pulls his head up from the table and rolls it back against his shoulders in a semicircle. He runs a hand through his long blond hair and exhales loudly.

Goeren: I'm not a bad man.

I'm really not.

I am simply what this world made of me.

People like to point at me when I'm in that ring and say "Look at Azrael, he doesn't care about the rules or the fans, he only cares about himself!".

I suppose part of that is true, the only person I've ever learned to rely on in this pathetic world is myself. I never let me down. I never have to check with myself to know that what I'm doing is right because if I'm doing it in the first place, it MUST be the right thing to do. The world of professional wrestling is overflowing with liars and self-righteous windbags who spout out clichés and wag their finger at me, trying to gain the moral high ground against mean ol' Azrael Goeren.

They are on a fool's quest, searching for fool's gold.

They assume because of the way I look or the way I act or the way I talk with my funny accent that I must be some paper champion who cheated his way to the top spot in this industry.

Its only when they go back and watch my matches are they horrified beyond all human comprehension at what they see.

I got to where I am today not by trickery or because of my silver tongue...I got there because I earned every damn thing I've ever accomplished. The rooms in this...house...most of them anyway, are a testament to the fact that while I may talk a big game, when you step into the ring with me you better be prepared to leave everything out there. One hundred and ten percent against Azrael Goeren is only good enough to make it out of that ring with your spine still functioning.

I don't claim to be the best and then run away and hide like they say. Sure, that would be a lot easier for everyone involved in Survive and Conquer to believe, that I'd just hide in the corner or not get into the ring in order to increase my chance of winning. But that’s not who I am.

Ask Kurt Noble.

Ask C.J. Gates.

They know. They both made the mistake of thinking that I'm some two-bit coward who doesn't fight back. I don't just fight back, Herr Meier...I brutalize back. I could have very easily gotten myself disqualified against Blade and Gates at Overdrive to get out of that handicap match. Hell, I know a lot of wrestlers who would do just that. Live and fight another day when the odds are better. But I stood toe to toe with those two men and took the fight to them.

Almost beat them both too. But credit them both, they stood up for APW and took me out of that match. Good for those two, maybe they're finally realizing what I'm trying to teach them.

Violence. Cruelty. Lying. All means to an end. They make you a better man.

There are a lot of damn good competitors who are going to be involved at Survive and Conquer, a lot of whom I've tussled with in the past and some of whom I've been dying to get my hands on for the longest time.

Gates and Noble are two of the greatest wrestlers in the world today. Anyone who says otherwise is deluding themselves. I've seen the fire in their eyes and know they'll be gunning for me in this match. Bring them on, I say. I crushed Gates' CWC dreams and made sure that the only way Noble ever gets another crack at my CWC World Heavyweight Championship is fighting through 47 other men at Ascension. They may be great, but I've turned their dreams into nightmares over the last few weeks. They won't be waking up at Survive and Conquer, that I can assure you.

How about Seth Black and Jonny Cedrone? Both of those men know me all too well, I am...after all...the man who defeated them both and put them in their place over the last year or so. Both men are world champions. Both men dominated their promotions with ease. Both men fell at my feet when they thought they could get inside my head. I don't care how much the fans cheer for Cedrone or how much they boo for Black, the only thing I care about is having history repeat itself when I toss them out of my ring in a few days.

Then there are individuals involved in this match that I am absolutely joygasmic about wrestling for the first time. Sally Talfourd and Paradox McSweeney instantly pop into my mind. I respect both of them, and I adore the way they conduct themselves. These two get it. They understand that to be known in this business, you have to grab the public's attention violently and never let go. It will be a privilege to share a ring with them...hell, I wouldn't be surprised if we ended up being the final three. It’s a shame that respect can only take you so far, eventually I'll have little use for them and discard them like all the rest.

From Johnny Rebel to Keaton Saint, to Kid Dynamo to BAD ASS, to all the rookies to all the veterans...never has such a collection of talent been assembled in one spot. APW should be proud to have such a group of wrestlers together for what will be this company's crowning achievement. Their legacy to the world of professional wrestling.

My victory.

There are no stock sayings here, no clichéd comments. I'm not "in it to win it" or "doing it for the Gipper". I'm going to be the last man standing at Survive and Conquer because I want to be. When I win, the world wins. The sport wins. APW wins. I guarantee that when Azrael Goeren is standing alone in that ring, he'll be around APW for a long...long...long time. If Action Packed Wrestling is the place I can reach the most people with my message, you can guarantee that the CWC World Heavyweight Champion will call it home.

You might need to clear out a new wing, Herr Meier. After Survive and Conquer, I'll be bringing new accolades into these hallowed halls and open up a new chapter in my career.

Be prepared for the onslaught, for Azrael Goeren is about to become bigger than the sport itself.

I'm not just here to survive. I'm not just here to conquer.

I'm here to decimate and rebuild the sport in my image.

Tick Tock.

With that Azrael smiles that devious smile of his and leans his head back. Herr Meier, after hearing Azrael's demented speech, slowly brings him his tea and slides it over in front of him. Azrael grabs the cup, taking a moment to inhale the aroma, before finally saying one last sentence.

Goeren: That room does not survive the week, you hear me Herr Meier? No room for weakness in my world.

Fade to black.