Post by Admin on Dec 2, 2020 1:05:25 GMT -5
LIVE FROM THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM at the historic ELDORADO CASINO in RENO, NV DECEMBER 5, 2020 |
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- GM'S OFFICE
The office space seems to have received a little facelift, even though the whiteboard on the wall with the tournament brackets on it remains the same. There's now a large mahogany desk sitting in the room with a copy of Salvador Dali's 'Persistence of Memory' framed on the wall behind it. LOGAN LEWIS is seated in one of the matching deep red leather chairs, looking a little fidgety as she awaits the arrival of her boss. After a moment, there's the soft clearing of a throat from behind her and JACKSON walks into the office, tossing a folder down on the desk.
JACKSON
Sorry I kept you waiting, Miss Lewis.
He rounds the desk and slides into the oversized leather office chair, immediately rummaging in one of the drawers until he pulls out an enormous bottle of Extra Strength Excedrin. He shakes a few out into his hand and tosses them in his mouth, swallowing them dry before speaking again.
JACKSON
I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here, to have this meeting rather than just publicly addressing your concerns over social media.
LOGAN LEWIS
I mean yeah? That's kinda been on my mind since the whole thing went down. Look, I get it. I was number 14 for a reason. Brand spankin' new, no one knows who I am, or at least they didn't. You did a good job with the brackets, but the reality is, I had him right where I wanted him. I was proving in my debut that I could be a player here, and then BAM!
Logan slaps the side of the leather chair she's sitting on.
LOGAN LEWIS
A lil foot on the ropes action, extra leverage and now we're left with that.
The young rookie stands up and walks over to the whiteboard and points out the name TIRRI in the second round tier and then points to her own name, still in the first round, eliminated.
LOGAN LEWIS
It's bothered me more than I lead on. I deserved a fair chance and I feel like had I had that? Who knows man, maybe I could have shocked the world. I feel like the match should have been restarted then and there, that way we would have had a true winner.
He opens the folder, glancing at the papers inside before looking back at her.
JACKSON
You're absolutely right. I should've restarted the match then and there – truth is, I wasn't paying attention. I was more concerned with the fact that Kross and Marou had just about killed each other. Was doing my best to mitigate a lawsuit...
He trails off, shaking his head.
JACKSON
That's neither here nor there. What I owe you is an apology... I'm sincerely sorry. Rana's been penalized and I'm sure he's gonna be far more diligent going forward. What I'd like to ask of you is the chance to make it right.
LOGAN LEWIS
Okay, I'm all ears for this one.
He taps the papers in that folder.
JACKSON
Were you ever a fan of those ‘Choose Your Own Adventure' books as a kid? I'm not sure if I'm dating myself here...
LOGAN LEWIS
Those books were the shit. Wait, can I say that on live TV?
The youthful rookie looks around with a grin on her face.
LOGAN LEWIS
Well I just said it, but yeah, I love those things. Forging my own path has always kinda been my thing.
He smiles and nods.
JACKSON
Fantastic. I'm going to give you a choice to create your own destiny here. And first, I want to make it clear that you don't have to decide right now. I'll let you think about it for the rest of the night and you can let me know in a couple weeks. Does that seem fair?
He pauses, waiting for her response. She nods so he continues.
JACKSON
Tonight, the four folks in the main event are fighting to take the spot vacated by Forge Mitchell in the last chance rumble – that match'll be taking place at our Supershow on February 6. The winner of that match will become the number one contender to whomever wins the tournament final in the Main Event of that show. Now, here's where it gets a little tricky. By default, you're already in that rumble match since you technically lost, even though we're going to put an asterisk beside it.
He glances at the brackets on the wall and back to her.
JACKSON
...and while I realize my decision to uphold your elimination means you won't be the first champion; you've still got the opportunity to come back and get another shot via the rumble.
It seems like she's going to interrupt by the look on her face and Jackson frowns, holding up a finger to forestall.
JACKSON
Let me finish, please? What I'm going to offer you now is the choice to either stay in that match and be guaranteed to be the last person out to the ring, essentially stacking your odds a little higher to emerge victorious... or, instead, you can choose to forego that rumble altogether. Whoever wins that little melee gets to instead face you later in the evening for the opportunity to be the contender. Which means they'd go through that hell, get their asses kicked from pillar to post and back again, and then face you, fresh as a daisy. How's that sound?
Logan looks thoroughly disappointed. Adjusting herself in the big chair, she makes eye contact with her boss.
LOGAN LEWIS
It's the brackets that have been burning a hole in me. I've looked at them repeatedly and it's just...I don't know. It sucks, man. And now I feel like I'm kinda in a tough spot because I no longer have a chance to become the first champion, which is something Don even has preached to me. Nobody remembers the details, but there are firsts. First show. First match. First champions. Those firsts are a big deal, and the first champion in the history of a company is much more memorable than a second, even if I win it in my rookie year.
Taking in a deep breath of air, her droopy eyes become more expressive.
LOGAN LEWIS
So I get to enter a second chance rumble, and maybe lose my chance again without being properly pinned, or...and this is a big or, I sit back and let them go at it, then take on the winner later on and it looks like I kinda chose the cowards way? It's tough because I want an advantage, I feel like I've earned that, but then a win will be tainted either way. Bruh...
Lewis stares off for a moment, still letting it sink in that she won't be re-entered into the tournament. A crushing thought for the rookie.
LOGAN LEWIS
This is hard.
He looks thoughtful, almost pensive as he considers everything she's said.
JACKSON
Okay, so tell me this. What would you prefer? If you were in my shoes, making the calls... what would you do?
LOGAN LEWIS
You're making me the boss now? For a second? Okay lemme think.
Sitting up in her chair, she taps the side of it with the tips of her fingers as the wheels turn in her head.
LOGAN LEWIS
Well, you already admitted it was a mistake on the ref's part and that you weren't paying attention because of Kross and surprisingly Marou. So, if you were paying attention, you would have restarted the match, but now the match is over, and Don is already fighting someone else tonight. That makes it tough. But fair is fair, and if I were the boss, I'd be like "okay, since he cheated at the first show, maybe it's only fair that the rookie aka 14 gets her shot back". If he beats Tolson, I should be able to wrestle him again tonight. That's what I would do. But they don't pay me the big bucks, I'm just the low seed out here with the rookie contract. But if he loses to Sam, I mean she didn't do anything wrong, so I guess I'd just have to be eliminated and take up your next offer. How crazy do I sound?
JACKSON
Not crazy at all. Valid point. But would it be sporting, or even 'fair' to make you both pull double duty tonight? You've already got a match lined up against the daughter of an old friend of mine... and he's got Tolson. While it might make you feel better about the whole thing to have that instant gratification, I've got to consider a few other things here. Like not going over our allotted time with Splat... and giving our fans some solid wrestling entertainment.
He pauses for a moment, lifting one hand to rub it over his jaw before tapping his index finger against the tip of his nose.
JACKSON
Counterproposal? What if we do this: if he wins tonight and you win tonight, that third round match…
He glances over at the brackets.
JACKSON
Between Tirri and the winner of Carnivore and Kalinda... becomes a three-way? How's that sound?
Logan pretends to be in deep though with a finger to her own chin now, but she couldn't sputter out her answer any faster.
LOGAN LEWIS
I'm in! I mean....yeah, yeah that sounds cool. That's the way I want, the chance to actually fight my way back in. Just have to beat Siobby and hope Don does his part.
The General Manager nods.
JACKSON
Okay. Then that's what we'll do. Provided you both win tonight, you're back into round 3.
He stands up and rounds the desk, holding out his hand for her to shake. Logan stands from her own chair and shakes the hand of her boss.
LOGAN LEWIS
I think tonight just got a hell of a lot more interesting. Siobby already has big shoes to fill, and I know Don has his hands full. And me? I can't go to 0-2, or 0-asterisk-1, so I've got work to do. But I appreciate the opportunity.
With that, the charismatic rookie turns and takes her leave from the boss' office. It seems that a few of the matches tonight have just become much more meaningful, at least to seed 14.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
KENDRICK KROSS vs TWIZTID INSANE
Both men are looking to regroup from hard losses on the first episode – Kross comes in immediately on the hard offensive and he nails a STIFF Pele kick after dodging a telegraphed forearm meant for his head after a grapple break. Twiztid staggers back and Kross traps him in a side leglock, further punishing him. The Clown Prince strains for the ropes and gets the break only for Kross to continue the assault with a speedy waistlock suplex but can't capitalize when Twiztid upkicks into his face. He backs up to the ropes, giving Twiztid space to get up while he shakes off the impact. Twiztid charges in and blindsides him with a tornado DDT, floats over for a cover but Kross right into an innovative STF and the crowd pops! Once again, Twiztid gets the rope break and what little momentum he's won back stalls out completely when Kross stomps on his knee, leaving the Juggalo staggering. The two circle in the middle of the ring, both wearing identical expressions of determination as the crowd holds their breath. Kross grabs Twiztid around the waist, but he breaks off, slipping behind and taking Kross down with a lungblower. He goes for a chokehold but Kross slams the back of his head into the Clown Prince’s face, ending up with a white smear of face paint in his hair for his troubles. Despite his concussion woes a couple weeks ago, he seems to bounce back quicker, and he goes for a knee drop to the shoulder and a moment later he’s got the Kross Bar (knee bar) locked down in the middle of the ring. After a moment of fighting through the pain, Twiztid actually taps out and Kross lets go of the hold immediately, on his knees with his hands in the air as the crowd pops for his victory.
WINNER (VIA SUBMISSION): KENDRICK KROSS
CUT TO:
EXT. SOMEWHERE IN RENO
The words RECORDED EARLIER TODAY flash across the screen and we open with the view of "THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS, sitting outside a café somewhere in Reno, where she is sipping on a coffee.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
Fear not, dear friends of the Revolution, reports of my demise have been greatly overexaggerated. I have been into the dragon’s maw, got a little burned, a little banged up, but hey, I’m still alive and kicking. And rest assured my friends, I have far from given up on this little project just yet. Setbacks, defeat... they are all part and parcel of growth and rebirth. It’s funny, Kalinda made fun of me because a Firebird’s power is only activated when it loses... but hell, after what happened at Genesis, I’m grateful for my powers of recovery. I don’t need no fireballs or magic powers to win wrestling matches, I’ve got a good old cross armbar that’ll do the trick on that front.
She chuckles, brushing her hair out of her face as the wind had blown it about a bit.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
So tonight we go again. One on one against Aiden Romero, a pretty unhinged bastard as far as I can tell. Certainly turning out to be a baptism of fire here in UPRISING, but I didn’t sign up for this journey to have an easy time of it. I wanted the face the biggest, toughest meanest guys, girls and dragons this business had to offer. And while I may have gotten singed, burned up a bit, those flames will fuel the rebirth of the Firebird, and I intend to soar high once again. Aiden, like myself, knows that initial feeling of disappointment. Coming up a little short. It is not a nice feeling, however one slices it, but I am proud of the statement i made at Genesis, and genuinely felt I had one of the best damn matches on the show. WITH A BLOODY DRAGON. You know it’s against Welsh law to cause harm to dragons right? If I went home right now, I’d probably be arrested at Cardiff Airport!
She grins, shaking her head.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
Wanted fugitive or not, I plan on committing another crime tonight. Aiden’s a big boy, he’s tough and he’s strong, but there’s a lot of fight and dedication in this little phoenix yet. So witness my second crime committed here in Reno tonight, as we STEAL THE DAMN SHOW!
She gives a thumbs up and a grin.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
The Revolution Will Be Televised! Make sure you don’t miss out!
On that note, we fade to black and straight into another advertising break, highlighting the upcoming next installment of the wildly popular SplatTV series THE RESTAURANT.
_____________________________________________
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
Fear not, dear friends of the Revolution, reports of my demise have been greatly overexaggerated. I have been into the dragon’s maw, got a little burned, a little banged up, but hey, I’m still alive and kicking. And rest assured my friends, I have far from given up on this little project just yet. Setbacks, defeat... they are all part and parcel of growth and rebirth. It’s funny, Kalinda made fun of me because a Firebird’s power is only activated when it loses... but hell, after what happened at Genesis, I’m grateful for my powers of recovery. I don’t need no fireballs or magic powers to win wrestling matches, I’ve got a good old cross armbar that’ll do the trick on that front.
She chuckles, brushing her hair out of her face as the wind had blown it about a bit.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
So tonight we go again. One on one against Aiden Romero, a pretty unhinged bastard as far as I can tell. Certainly turning out to be a baptism of fire here in UPRISING, but I didn’t sign up for this journey to have an easy time of it. I wanted the face the biggest, toughest meanest guys, girls and dragons this business had to offer. And while I may have gotten singed, burned up a bit, those flames will fuel the rebirth of the Firebird, and I intend to soar high once again. Aiden, like myself, knows that initial feeling of disappointment. Coming up a little short. It is not a nice feeling, however one slices it, but I am proud of the statement i made at Genesis, and genuinely felt I had one of the best damn matches on the show. WITH A BLOODY DRAGON. You know it’s against Welsh law to cause harm to dragons right? If I went home right now, I’d probably be arrested at Cardiff Airport!
She grins, shaking her head.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
Wanted fugitive or not, I plan on committing another crime tonight. Aiden’s a big boy, he’s tough and he’s strong, but there’s a lot of fight and dedication in this little phoenix yet. So witness my second crime committed here in Reno tonight, as we STEAL THE DAMN SHOW!
She gives a thumbs up and a grin.
"THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
The Revolution Will Be Televised! Make sure you don’t miss out!
On that note, we fade to black and straight into another advertising break, highlighting the upcoming next installment of the wildly popular SplatTV series THE RESTAURANT.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
STATIC
In similar fashion to a video that appeared on the first episode, static overtakes the screen, permeated by sounds of 8-bit music shifting from one song to another in the background until a black screen appears, with words slowly forming on it as a soft female voice speaks.
VOICEOVER
How does the world look through the eyes of someone who has cast aside all that which humans hold dear? How does one who hold themselves as someone not above, but outside of human society, see the daily lives of men and women? What does an outsider see or feel when they gaze upon the highs and lows of what passes as civilization?
A flurry of images begin rotating through the view. A large figure in shadows, watching the buzzing of life in cities, in arenas, in parks and in forests.
VOICEOVER
What does someone like that feel, when they have been pushed to the outside not by choice, but by necessity. Inhabiting a form too grotesque to mingle with the common folk on a daily basis. Locked away in a dark corner with nothing but their own thoughts as their company. What could be going through the mind of someone like that?
A reddish hue overtakes the screen. Underneath that, we see the figure hunched over in a corner, shadows dancing on it creating an intricate show of light and dark.
VOICEOVER
Darkness is a powerful thing. It hides that which we do not want to see. That which we do not want to think about. Fear of the dark is a base human instinct. Not because we are afraid of being alone in the dark. But because we are afraid of NOT being alone in the dark. But the darkness of a human mind is an even more powerful thing. It holds all that we try to deny. All that which we pretend doesn’t exist. And if we let that darkness grow too strong. Let that darkness consume us… Let that darkness… create a voice of its own… We humans become more than just human. We lose that which makes us human. We become both more… and less.
Suddenly an aggressive drum-fill hits the airwaves followed by aggressive growling. It is a song, but the sheer violent aggression it exudes assaults the viewers' ears like a sledgehammer. The images on the screen flicker as the shadowy figure is shown standing over prone bodies, one after another in what looks like a wrestling ring. Head hung low, arms to its sides with fists clenched.
VOICEOVER
When you find that you are not alone in your own darkness, that becomes both a strength and a weakness. When the only thing that answers when you cry out in despair comes from within you… It changes you. Permanently. You can never go back after you embrace it. Those who once knew you can never look at you the same. Those who once loved you must either forget… or forgive. The deeds you commit once the darkness consumes your very soul… cannot be atoned for. Once you act… you’ve set your path. But sometimes… sometimes you are forgiven.
The view flicks back to the figure hunched in a corner. But this time there is another figure standing next to it. A lithe, obviously female one with her hand resting on the shoulder of the massive form. Slowly the view fades and a sentence forms on a black background.
HE IS COMING.
"AMERICAN TRADITIONAL" AIDEN ROMERO vs "THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
Aiden Romero charges forward as the bell rings, colliding with Ignis with a high crossbody block that nearly takes The Firebird’s head off and before she can fall, Romero grabs her by the head – Ignis reverses his attempt at a Beel throw and uses his momentum for a single arm takedown. She goes to transition to her patented cross armbar, but Romero scoops her up, slings her over his shoulder and gets up all in one motion, slamming her down forcefully with a powerbomb. The Firebird springs back to her feet, right into Romero's clutches again and he’s got her around the waist but Ignis twists around, slamming an elbow into Romero's sternum for quick break. She springs off the ropes as Romero staggers back, winded and she nails him in the face with another elbow strike before a headlock takeover has him on his back. She gets him into a reverse chinlock but he breaks out immediately. Romero gets back up, shaking off the damage to his arm and Ignis follows him into the corner, nailing him with a shoulder block – OH SHIT! Romero catches her midair and pastes her to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex! He goes to stomp a mudhole in her face, but she’s got the presence of mind to roll out of the way. In the moment it takes for him to shift that wasted momentum, Ignis is back up and slinging him into the ropes with an Irish whip. When Romero comes back, she catches him with an armbar takedown that transitions into a Fujiwara armbar, cinching it in tight. She punishes him with that for a few moments and when he tries to break free, she turns it into Burning Embers (cross armbar submission). Romero is snarling in pain, but he waves off Neil Rana when asked if he wants to submit. When the referee asks him again, Romero grabs a handful of his shirt, and pulls him into what looks like a headbutt. Dazed from the impact, Rana falls into them and the hold is broken but when he staggers back to his feet, the referee’s bleeding from his nose and he waves off the match, declaring it a no contest.
WINNER: NO CONTEST
VOICEOVER
How does the world look through the eyes of someone who has cast aside all that which humans hold dear? How does one who hold themselves as someone not above, but outside of human society, see the daily lives of men and women? What does an outsider see or feel when they gaze upon the highs and lows of what passes as civilization?
A flurry of images begin rotating through the view. A large figure in shadows, watching the buzzing of life in cities, in arenas, in parks and in forests.
VOICEOVER
What does someone like that feel, when they have been pushed to the outside not by choice, but by necessity. Inhabiting a form too grotesque to mingle with the common folk on a daily basis. Locked away in a dark corner with nothing but their own thoughts as their company. What could be going through the mind of someone like that?
A reddish hue overtakes the screen. Underneath that, we see the figure hunched over in a corner, shadows dancing on it creating an intricate show of light and dark.
VOICEOVER
Darkness is a powerful thing. It hides that which we do not want to see. That which we do not want to think about. Fear of the dark is a base human instinct. Not because we are afraid of being alone in the dark. But because we are afraid of NOT being alone in the dark. But the darkness of a human mind is an even more powerful thing. It holds all that we try to deny. All that which we pretend doesn’t exist. And if we let that darkness grow too strong. Let that darkness consume us… Let that darkness… create a voice of its own… We humans become more than just human. We lose that which makes us human. We become both more… and less.
Suddenly an aggressive drum-fill hits the airwaves followed by aggressive growling. It is a song, but the sheer violent aggression it exudes assaults the viewers' ears like a sledgehammer. The images on the screen flicker as the shadowy figure is shown standing over prone bodies, one after another in what looks like a wrestling ring. Head hung low, arms to its sides with fists clenched.
VOICEOVER
When you find that you are not alone in your own darkness, that becomes both a strength and a weakness. When the only thing that answers when you cry out in despair comes from within you… It changes you. Permanently. You can never go back after you embrace it. Those who once knew you can never look at you the same. Those who once loved you must either forget… or forgive. The deeds you commit once the darkness consumes your very soul… cannot be atoned for. Once you act… you’ve set your path. But sometimes… sometimes you are forgiven.
The view flicks back to the figure hunched in a corner. But this time there is another figure standing next to it. A lithe, obviously female one with her hand resting on the shoulder of the massive form. Slowly the view fades and a sentence forms on a black background.
HE IS COMING.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
"AMERICAN TRADITIONAL" AIDEN ROMERO vs "THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
Aiden Romero charges forward as the bell rings, colliding with Ignis with a high crossbody block that nearly takes The Firebird’s head off and before she can fall, Romero grabs her by the head – Ignis reverses his attempt at a Beel throw and uses his momentum for a single arm takedown. She goes to transition to her patented cross armbar, but Romero scoops her up, slings her over his shoulder and gets up all in one motion, slamming her down forcefully with a powerbomb. The Firebird springs back to her feet, right into Romero's clutches again and he’s got her around the waist but Ignis twists around, slamming an elbow into Romero's sternum for quick break. She springs off the ropes as Romero staggers back, winded and she nails him in the face with another elbow strike before a headlock takeover has him on his back. She gets him into a reverse chinlock but he breaks out immediately. Romero gets back up, shaking off the damage to his arm and Ignis follows him into the corner, nailing him with a shoulder block – OH SHIT! Romero catches her midair and pastes her to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex! He goes to stomp a mudhole in her face, but she’s got the presence of mind to roll out of the way. In the moment it takes for him to shift that wasted momentum, Ignis is back up and slinging him into the ropes with an Irish whip. When Romero comes back, she catches him with an armbar takedown that transitions into a Fujiwara armbar, cinching it in tight. She punishes him with that for a few moments and when he tries to break free, she turns it into Burning Embers (cross armbar submission). Romero is snarling in pain, but he waves off Neil Rana when asked if he wants to submit. When the referee asks him again, Romero grabs a handful of his shirt, and pulls him into what looks like a headbutt. Dazed from the impact, Rana falls into them and the hold is broken but when he staggers back to his feet, the referee’s bleeding from his nose and he waves off the match, declaring it a no contest.
WINNER: NO CONTEST
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
An empty corridor is shown before zooming in on an overflowing trash can. As the camera stays focused on that nasty sight, someone in an UPRISING STAFF shirt walks by and drops a half-full Starbucks Frappuccino cup on top of the towering mess. It's too much for gravity to handle and there's a trash landslide, followed by the sound of an anguished moan. The shot widens to show “THE MONSTER MACHINE” ENIGMA staring at the cascade of trash in stricken horror. Quickly, he turns and rushes off down the hall, staring at the doors until he sees one marked CUSTODIAL. Jerking it open, he's expecting to find the normal assortment of mops and brooms and cleaning supplies. What he finds instead is CARNIVORE, naked except for his pineapple-yellow smiley face mask, surrounded by candles and incense, in the middle of doing some sort of offering on an altar that's been erected in the oversized sink.
CARNIVORE
Close the door! You're letting out my cleansed aura!
Looking horrified, Enigma slams the door and turns around, crashing into something solid and he’s already babbling apologies before the impact occurs.
ENIGMA
Sorry. Sorry... oh no. Sorry.
He reaches out and steadies the person he almost mowed over, eyes widening in surprise as he takes in the familiar face of CGW superstar Bruce McLeod, standing behind the beautiful redhead he almost obliterated.
BRUCE MCLEOD
Slava! Nice tae see ya!
Enigma nods, not saying anything as he looks down at the girl, clearly concerned that he might have hurt her.
ENIGMA
Are you...
He's clearly struggling to find the words but it's not clear if he's flustered because of the situation or what he just witnessed in the janitor's closet or his poor grasp of the English language. SIOBAHN MCLEOD stares back up at him before nodding.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
I'm fine. Really.
BRUCE MCLEOD
Relax, fella. Nae harm, nor foul. Slava, this is my daughter... Siobahn—
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
You can call me Sam.
The huge man nods quickly and when he speaks, it's clear that he's struggling to hide his thick Russian accent.
ENIGMA
Sam. Hello. You can call me Enigma. Or Slava. It is easier to pronounce than my full name... a trouble I am sure you understand, yes?
The rookie nods. Enigma smiles at the beautiful girl and he struggles to say his next words clearly.
ENIGMA
It was nice to have met you... and to see you again, Highlander.
Bruce chuckles and pats the big man on the shoulder, moving off down the hall although his daughter lingers a moment longer, almost as if she's recognized something in the monster of a man.
ENIGMA
Miss Sam, I... hope you have a successful...
He trails off as another handsome man walks up, putting his arm around Siobahn's waist. She immediately leans against him and he kisses her on the temple.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
I'm gonna try my best.
She shrugs and watches as her father disappears around the corner before letting out a sigh.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Why are you hanging out back here, anyhow? Outside the janitor's closet?
ENIGMA
Miss Kalinda said that it was my turn this week to clean up the spills as I do not have a match.
The redhead stares at him for a few seconds, blinking as she tries to process that information.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Are you sure she wasn't trolling you?
At his confused look, she clarifies.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Teasing? Like joking around with you?
ENIGMA
I do not think so. She seemed very sincere. I will leave you to prepare for your match-
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Yeah, no pressure, right?
She laughs but it sounds strained and bitter and then she seems to remember her manners as she looks from Enigma to the man she's leaning against.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Oh, Jude... this is Enigma. He worked with Daddy in Edmonton. Enigma...this is Jude Mitchell. He's-
JUDE MITCHELL
A very good friend.
At the strange look Siobahn gives him, Jude inclines his head to the camera that's been obviously recording them this whole time. She blushes bright red, looking as though she wants the floor to swallow her up as she realizes this completely awkward exchange has been her first appearance to the fans. Mumbling something under her breath, she turns and almost flees the scene, dragging Jude with her and leaving Enigma alone and confused. He watches the pair for a moment, until they step past the mess of trash at the end of the hall and then he turns as well, walking a few steps in the opposite direction before turning back and muttering something in Russian that's barely audible before heading back towards the mess. A moment later, he's pushing down on the pile, using all his strength to compact what's in there to make room for the trash on the floor. The view fades out before he's finished cleaning, but he actually seems to be smiling now, as though he's pleased to have something to do.
_____________________________________________
CARNIVORE
Close the door! You're letting out my cleansed aura!
Looking horrified, Enigma slams the door and turns around, crashing into something solid and he’s already babbling apologies before the impact occurs.
ENIGMA
Sorry. Sorry... oh no. Sorry.
He reaches out and steadies the person he almost mowed over, eyes widening in surprise as he takes in the familiar face of CGW superstar Bruce McLeod, standing behind the beautiful redhead he almost obliterated.
BRUCE MCLEOD
Slava! Nice tae see ya!
Enigma nods, not saying anything as he looks down at the girl, clearly concerned that he might have hurt her.
ENIGMA
Are you...
He's clearly struggling to find the words but it's not clear if he's flustered because of the situation or what he just witnessed in the janitor's closet or his poor grasp of the English language. SIOBAHN MCLEOD stares back up at him before nodding.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
I'm fine. Really.
BRUCE MCLEOD
Relax, fella. Nae harm, nor foul. Slava, this is my daughter... Siobahn—
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
You can call me Sam.
The huge man nods quickly and when he speaks, it's clear that he's struggling to hide his thick Russian accent.
ENIGMA
Sam. Hello. You can call me Enigma. Or Slava. It is easier to pronounce than my full name... a trouble I am sure you understand, yes?
The rookie nods. Enigma smiles at the beautiful girl and he struggles to say his next words clearly.
ENIGMA
It was nice to have met you... and to see you again, Highlander.
Bruce chuckles and pats the big man on the shoulder, moving off down the hall although his daughter lingers a moment longer, almost as if she's recognized something in the monster of a man.
ENIGMA
Miss Sam, I... hope you have a successful...
He trails off as another handsome man walks up, putting his arm around Siobahn's waist. She immediately leans against him and he kisses her on the temple.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
I'm gonna try my best.
She shrugs and watches as her father disappears around the corner before letting out a sigh.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Why are you hanging out back here, anyhow? Outside the janitor's closet?
ENIGMA
Miss Kalinda said that it was my turn this week to clean up the spills as I do not have a match.
The redhead stares at him for a few seconds, blinking as she tries to process that information.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Are you sure she wasn't trolling you?
At his confused look, she clarifies.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Teasing? Like joking around with you?
ENIGMA
I do not think so. She seemed very sincere. I will leave you to prepare for your match-
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Yeah, no pressure, right?
She laughs but it sounds strained and bitter and then she seems to remember her manners as she looks from Enigma to the man she's leaning against.
SIOBAHN MCLEOD
Oh, Jude... this is Enigma. He worked with Daddy in Edmonton. Enigma...this is Jude Mitchell. He's-
JUDE MITCHELL
A very good friend.
At the strange look Siobahn gives him, Jude inclines his head to the camera that's been obviously recording them this whole time. She blushes bright red, looking as though she wants the floor to swallow her up as she realizes this completely awkward exchange has been her first appearance to the fans. Mumbling something under her breath, she turns and almost flees the scene, dragging Jude with her and leaving Enigma alone and confused. He watches the pair for a moment, until they step past the mess of trash at the end of the hall and then he turns as well, walking a few steps in the opposite direction before turning back and muttering something in Russian that's barely audible before heading back towards the mess. A moment later, he's pushing down on the pile, using all his strength to compact what's in there to make room for the trash on the floor. The view fades out before he's finished cleaning, but he actually seems to be smiling now, as though he's pleased to have something to do.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
There’s a table outside one of the locker rooms, the door of which still has a strip of masking tape on it that reads FORGE MITCHELL in fading Sharpie. The door isn’t important. Nor is the piece of tape under that one that holds up a BEWARE OF DOG sign. The table is what matters – or rather, what's ON the table does. There's a huge eye-meltingly bright vomitous shade of orange Tupperware container resting there. The lid is too opaque to see through, but there's a carefully lettered sign atop it that reads:
FOR FORGE AND HIS WEREWOLF HAREM:
• NO CHOCOLATE
• NO CINNAMON
• NO RAISINS
I KNOW ALL OF THESE ARE BAD FOR DOGS!
CHRIS MOSH stands there, staring at that little index card with the carefully printed block letters for a good ten seconds before he glances up and down the hall.
CHRIS MOSH
Old Yeller never even came back, I beat him so bad.
He mutters the words to himself, as though he needs to justify what's about to happen before he crumples up the note, tossing it on the floor. Pulling the container closer, he opens the lid to reveal a vast assortment of cheerfully decorated lupine-shaped sugar cookies. In the middle is a large diamond, painted yellow like a cautionary road sign. Upon this, is written, in cerulean-blue frosting: 'DO NOT AWOO, $350 PENALTY' as if it’s some kind of bizarro-world road sign. Mosh shakes his head, reaching in for one of the wolf cookies.
CHRIS MOSH
To the victor go the sweet, sweet spoils.
Smirking in satisfaction, he brings the cookie up to his mouth and bites the head off the wolf – it would have been a great symbolic gesture, if the cookie hadn't resisted that assault, almost breaking his teeth. Mosh drops the offensive treat, yelping in both surprise and pain as the cookie bounces off the table and then falls to the floor, still remaining intact. The sound of laugher causes him to turn his head and he sees LOGAN LEWIS leaning against the wall, a hand over her mouth to contain her amusement.
LOGAN LEWIS
Bruh... those've been sitting here for two weeks.
CHRIS MOSH
You could've warned me!
The rookie shakes her head, still grinning from ear to ear.
LOGAN LEWIS
Nah. What would be the fun in that?
Still laughing, she turns and runs off. Mosh grabs a cookie and flings it after her but it hits the wall and explodes into a million pieces of jagged shrapnel. Silence falls over the hallway again and Mosh stands there for a moment with his hand still pressed to his jaw before he picks up the container, shrugging as he pulls out another cookie from under the pile and this one seems a little softer as he's able to take a bite, chewing it with satisfaction as he walks off, disappearing down the hall.
LOGAN LEWIS vs SIOBAHN "THE SIDHE" MCLEOD
Siobahn wastes no time, coming in fast and furious as the bell rings. Logan ducks under a telegraphed strike and rolls out to the floor, trying to tempt the even greener rookie to follow – she’s got enough smarts to balk, staying inside the ring and bouncing around while she waits for Logan to return. Once she's back inside, Siobahn connects with a diving chop but Logan retaliates with a hard elbow to the ribs. She staggers back and Logan goes to work, pummeling her torso with some hard strikes. They brawl a bit but Siobahn takes it to the mat with a surprising hammerlock and Logan bails out to the floor again, getting a few of the boo birds going as the action halts in its tracks. The Sidhe staggers back into the ropes, clutching her ribs as Logan slides back in, charging at her. At the last second, she fakes Logan out and nails a textbook rolling short arm scissors that bears no fruit as Logan knees her in the ribs on impact with the canvas. There’s so much on the line and both women are feeling the pressure as Siobahn goes back to the arm with knees. The crowd is going insane as Logan grabs Siobahn by the hair, hauling her roughly to her feet. Siobahn explodes, rushing at Logan, pounding the shorter woman back into the corner. Logan battles back and spins her around, slamming McLeod into the corner instead. She slumps a little from the impact and Logan catches her with a jumping spin kick, almost knocking her out cold on her feet. Logan grabs her, looking for that Busted Face Drop (RKO) out of nowhere but Siobahn dives and nails a sloppy shoulderblock to the knee. She hooks the leg of Lewis and rolls her up!
ONE!
TW—NO!
Logan kicks out and Siobahn can’t hold her down with those sore ribs. Back on their feet, Siobahn telegraphs a palm strike and Logan backdrops Siobahn onto her bad ribs and then hits a running senton before crossfacing Siobahn to punish her a little more. She’s in a world of hurt as Logan breaks the hold and springs off the middle rope – LEWISH YOU WERE ME (springboard moonsault)! She’s got the leg hooked and Siobahn’s too dazed to kick out in time.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): LOGAN LEWIS
FOR FORGE AND HIS WEREWOLF HAREM:
• NO CHOCOLATE
• NO CINNAMON
• NO RAISINS
I KNOW ALL OF THESE ARE BAD FOR DOGS!
CHRIS MOSH stands there, staring at that little index card with the carefully printed block letters for a good ten seconds before he glances up and down the hall.
CHRIS MOSH
Old Yeller never even came back, I beat him so bad.
He mutters the words to himself, as though he needs to justify what's about to happen before he crumples up the note, tossing it on the floor. Pulling the container closer, he opens the lid to reveal a vast assortment of cheerfully decorated lupine-shaped sugar cookies. In the middle is a large diamond, painted yellow like a cautionary road sign. Upon this, is written, in cerulean-blue frosting: 'DO NOT AWOO, $350 PENALTY' as if it’s some kind of bizarro-world road sign. Mosh shakes his head, reaching in for one of the wolf cookies.
CHRIS MOSH
To the victor go the sweet, sweet spoils.
Smirking in satisfaction, he brings the cookie up to his mouth and bites the head off the wolf – it would have been a great symbolic gesture, if the cookie hadn't resisted that assault, almost breaking his teeth. Mosh drops the offensive treat, yelping in both surprise and pain as the cookie bounces off the table and then falls to the floor, still remaining intact. The sound of laugher causes him to turn his head and he sees LOGAN LEWIS leaning against the wall, a hand over her mouth to contain her amusement.
LOGAN LEWIS
Bruh... those've been sitting here for two weeks.
CHRIS MOSH
You could've warned me!
The rookie shakes her head, still grinning from ear to ear.
LOGAN LEWIS
Nah. What would be the fun in that?
Still laughing, she turns and runs off. Mosh grabs a cookie and flings it after her but it hits the wall and explodes into a million pieces of jagged shrapnel. Silence falls over the hallway again and Mosh stands there for a moment with his hand still pressed to his jaw before he picks up the container, shrugging as he pulls out another cookie from under the pile and this one seems a little softer as he's able to take a bite, chewing it with satisfaction as he walks off, disappearing down the hall.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
LOGAN LEWIS vs SIOBAHN "THE SIDHE" MCLEOD
Siobahn wastes no time, coming in fast and furious as the bell rings. Logan ducks under a telegraphed strike and rolls out to the floor, trying to tempt the even greener rookie to follow – she’s got enough smarts to balk, staying inside the ring and bouncing around while she waits for Logan to return. Once she's back inside, Siobahn connects with a diving chop but Logan retaliates with a hard elbow to the ribs. She staggers back and Logan goes to work, pummeling her torso with some hard strikes. They brawl a bit but Siobahn takes it to the mat with a surprising hammerlock and Logan bails out to the floor again, getting a few of the boo birds going as the action halts in its tracks. The Sidhe staggers back into the ropes, clutching her ribs as Logan slides back in, charging at her. At the last second, she fakes Logan out and nails a textbook rolling short arm scissors that bears no fruit as Logan knees her in the ribs on impact with the canvas. There’s so much on the line and both women are feeling the pressure as Siobahn goes back to the arm with knees. The crowd is going insane as Logan grabs Siobahn by the hair, hauling her roughly to her feet. Siobahn explodes, rushing at Logan, pounding the shorter woman back into the corner. Logan battles back and spins her around, slamming McLeod into the corner instead. She slumps a little from the impact and Logan catches her with a jumping spin kick, almost knocking her out cold on her feet. Logan grabs her, looking for that Busted Face Drop (RKO) out of nowhere but Siobahn dives and nails a sloppy shoulderblock to the knee. She hooks the leg of Lewis and rolls her up!
ONE!
TW—NO!
Logan kicks out and Siobahn can’t hold her down with those sore ribs. Back on their feet, Siobahn telegraphs a palm strike and Logan backdrops Siobahn onto her bad ribs and then hits a running senton before crossfacing Siobahn to punish her a little more. She’s in a world of hurt as Logan breaks the hold and springs off the middle rope – LEWISH YOU WERE ME (springboard moonsault)! She’s got the leg hooked and Siobahn’s too dazed to kick out in time.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): LOGAN LEWIS
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
The view shifts to reveal the Number 1 seed Luther Thunder, standing by with his wife and Manager Esme Thunder by his side and the crowd pops enormously at the sight of the duo. He's already dressed to compete and she is in her usual camo-printed outfit.
LUTHER THUNDER
Round two, tonight. Still here and still in the game and going after something very rare in this industry these days: a young man who is confident in himself but not cocky. SAW, congratulations to you son, you did surprise me with your respectable approach and while we both know that exchanging pleasantries will end as soon as that bell rings tonight, I do hope that you understand that this one isn’t personal. It’s the nature of the business, only one of us can win and I did not come this far and go through that hard-fought match with Carnivore just to get bounced off now. You are a good kid, SAW; you have a good head on those shoulders. Now if I may, and if you all out there will indulge me for a moment, I have a small piece of advice I’d like to give all of you in this tournament. So many out there are talking about how they are going to go to the finals and already making assumptions and predictions on their opponents after the ones they have all the way to winning the tournament. Focus on the current, keep your eyes on your opponent. There are so many out there who want to get inside your head, they want to make you think of something else, to throw you off your game to paint others in a different light just to further their own agenda.
Esmeralda nods in support of her husband's sage words.
ESME THUNDER
It is important, especially in a business as crazy as ours, to keep one’s head in check and not lose sight of the here and now. Fortunately, my husband has an expert in myself at keeping his focus right where it needs to be. I am sure Mr. SAW will prove to be a most excellent opponent for my husband, after all, when faced with the number one seed, why wouldn’t you come out and put on the fight of your life? Sadly for Mr. SAW however, as was shown with the esteemed Mr, Carnivore, the fight of one’s life is not necessarily enough to put down the Dutch Destroyer.
Luther smiles warmly, almost cozy with his presence. His voice is warm yet determined as if a parent or teacher is explaining things to their class of children.
LUTHER THUNDER
Do not take any of this as a slight SAW, I respect your dedication to your craft and mastering so many talents as you have along with your manners out of the ring as previously stated. You will have a bright future in this business if you keep that up and while there will no doubt be people in this business, this company and even within this tournament who want to belittle you, mock you or ridicule you, remember that you have my respect. What happens between the bells is just what needs to be done. I know that your previous opponent was not necessarily the best possible person to showcase your true talent...
SAW
You could say that again.
Both Luther and Esme turn to see the technical master himself standing a few feet away. The Toronto native smiles, holding up his hands in an attempt to keep the peace.
SAW
Please, do go on. I didn't mean to intrude. You were saying?
For a moment, Luther simply stares at the man as though trying to read his intentions and gauge if this is a further show of respect, or a stab in the back like most of his opponents in the past have done. When the smile on SAW's face remains in place, Thunder takes a step in his direction, halting only when Esme lays a hand on his arm.
LUTHER THUNDER
I was saying simply that you will have an opportunity to showcase your level of talent against someone more suitable.
SAW
You mean someone who isn't going to turn tail and run or make a joke out of the opportunity they've been given? Don't worry. I'm quite aware that some folks around here think I'm too arrogant for my own good. I plan to show tonight that it's not conceit. It's conviction.
LUTHER THUNDER
Do what you think you have to do to beat me. We'll see how far it takes you.
SAW
Straight to the semi-finals.
The Dutch Destroyer stares at him for a few moments, the hint of a smile on his lips before he turns to his wife. The duo walks away, Thunder's last words ringing out over his shoulder.
LUTHER THUNDER
Best of luck, Master SAW.
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
LUTHER THUNDER vs SAW
Luther Thunder walks forward slowly, holding up a hand, looking for a classic test of strength with SAW. The Master looks at the outstretched hand and then turns to the crowd as he shakes his head. They erupt in cheers. Thunder waits out the wall of noise, still holding out his hand but SAW refuses and backs off. The pair circle each other before charging at the same time into a collar and elbow tie-up that ends when SAW sends Thunder packing to the ropes. Thunder manages to hook, stopping his momentum in time, narrowly avoiding SAW's dropkick attempt. SAW pops back to his feet, as the crowd erupts in cheers, only to be leveled with a Yakuza kick from Thunder; he wastes no time dragging SAW back up and sending him straight into the corner before colliding with a spear that leads into some mounted punches that the crowd is happy to count out for him. SAW manages to deflect the worst of the blows before striking back with a stiff punch to the jaw, earning himself a warning from Ref Stef for the closed fist strike. SAW battles back with a few stiff elbows into the ribs, forcing Thunder to back off only to have him suddenly dodge a telegraphed strike and get inside SAW’s guard for a punch to the throat followed by a trip Into The Styx (spinning spinebuster)!
Thunder grabs SAW to bring him back to his feet, but he gets taken down with a bearhug tackle that turns into a kimura! Thunder moves his arm and rolls back, reversing it and the look of shock on SAW’s face matches the surprised enthusiasm of the crowd as they break apart and get right back up. SAW charges at Thunder, taking him down with a messy roaring elbow. Thunder’s first up and he manages to capitalize on the botched move as he hits SAW in the back of the head with a huge forearm shot. SAW falls to his knees and Thunder kicks him in the gut before lifting The Master up and over his head, dropping him with the Fall From Grace (vertical suplex)!! He hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW—NO!
SAW stumbles back to his feet, and he lunges at Thunder, taking him down as he reverses momentum with a shoulder block, gaining advantage as he locks on a crossface hold. Thunder fights to break free, straining towards the ropes to no avail as SAW continues to wrench on his neck. Using his sheer power, Thunder is up on all fours, crawling, dragging SAW along with him. The crowd boos loudly, and then erupts in cheers as SAW grabs Thunder's arms from behind, flipping him over for a triangle choke but he can’t get past Luther’s guard. SAW springs back to his feet and Thunder grabs his leg, pulling him down into an inside cradle – REVERSAL! SAW hits Thunder with a few shots to the ribs and then kicks the back of his knee, transitioning to a half Boston crab. Thunder does nothing to fight back, letting SAW exhaust himself in the process. After a moment of sheer frustration, SAW breaks the hold, waits for Thunder to face him, and then goes for a clothesline – NOPE! Thunder takes the impact and wraps his arms around SAW, driving a knee into his gut. When SAW doubles up, Thunder hoists him up into the Sword Of Damocles (crucifix powerbomb) and slams him down so hard the ring looks like it might collapse. He dives in, driving a knee into SAW’s guts before hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
SAW gets the shoulder up a split second too late and the dismay is written all over his face as Thunder surges to his feet, triumphant as his music erupts over the speakers.
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): LUTHER THUNDER
LUTHER THUNDER
Round two, tonight. Still here and still in the game and going after something very rare in this industry these days: a young man who is confident in himself but not cocky. SAW, congratulations to you son, you did surprise me with your respectable approach and while we both know that exchanging pleasantries will end as soon as that bell rings tonight, I do hope that you understand that this one isn’t personal. It’s the nature of the business, only one of us can win and I did not come this far and go through that hard-fought match with Carnivore just to get bounced off now. You are a good kid, SAW; you have a good head on those shoulders. Now if I may, and if you all out there will indulge me for a moment, I have a small piece of advice I’d like to give all of you in this tournament. So many out there are talking about how they are going to go to the finals and already making assumptions and predictions on their opponents after the ones they have all the way to winning the tournament. Focus on the current, keep your eyes on your opponent. There are so many out there who want to get inside your head, they want to make you think of something else, to throw you off your game to paint others in a different light just to further their own agenda.
Esmeralda nods in support of her husband's sage words.
ESME THUNDER
It is important, especially in a business as crazy as ours, to keep one’s head in check and not lose sight of the here and now. Fortunately, my husband has an expert in myself at keeping his focus right where it needs to be. I am sure Mr. SAW will prove to be a most excellent opponent for my husband, after all, when faced with the number one seed, why wouldn’t you come out and put on the fight of your life? Sadly for Mr. SAW however, as was shown with the esteemed Mr, Carnivore, the fight of one’s life is not necessarily enough to put down the Dutch Destroyer.
Luther smiles warmly, almost cozy with his presence. His voice is warm yet determined as if a parent or teacher is explaining things to their class of children.
LUTHER THUNDER
Do not take any of this as a slight SAW, I respect your dedication to your craft and mastering so many talents as you have along with your manners out of the ring as previously stated. You will have a bright future in this business if you keep that up and while there will no doubt be people in this business, this company and even within this tournament who want to belittle you, mock you or ridicule you, remember that you have my respect. What happens between the bells is just what needs to be done. I know that your previous opponent was not necessarily the best possible person to showcase your true talent...
SAW
You could say that again.
Both Luther and Esme turn to see the technical master himself standing a few feet away. The Toronto native smiles, holding up his hands in an attempt to keep the peace.
SAW
Please, do go on. I didn't mean to intrude. You were saying?
For a moment, Luther simply stares at the man as though trying to read his intentions and gauge if this is a further show of respect, or a stab in the back like most of his opponents in the past have done. When the smile on SAW's face remains in place, Thunder takes a step in his direction, halting only when Esme lays a hand on his arm.
LUTHER THUNDER
I was saying simply that you will have an opportunity to showcase your level of talent against someone more suitable.
SAW
You mean someone who isn't going to turn tail and run or make a joke out of the opportunity they've been given? Don't worry. I'm quite aware that some folks around here think I'm too arrogant for my own good. I plan to show tonight that it's not conceit. It's conviction.
LUTHER THUNDER
Do what you think you have to do to beat me. We'll see how far it takes you.
SAW
Straight to the semi-finals.
The Dutch Destroyer stares at him for a few moments, the hint of a smile on his lips before he turns to his wife. The duo walks away, Thunder's last words ringing out over his shoulder.
LUTHER THUNDER
Best of luck, Master SAW.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
LUTHER THUNDER vs SAW
Luther Thunder walks forward slowly, holding up a hand, looking for a classic test of strength with SAW. The Master looks at the outstretched hand and then turns to the crowd as he shakes his head. They erupt in cheers. Thunder waits out the wall of noise, still holding out his hand but SAW refuses and backs off. The pair circle each other before charging at the same time into a collar and elbow tie-up that ends when SAW sends Thunder packing to the ropes. Thunder manages to hook, stopping his momentum in time, narrowly avoiding SAW's dropkick attempt. SAW pops back to his feet, as the crowd erupts in cheers, only to be leveled with a Yakuza kick from Thunder; he wastes no time dragging SAW back up and sending him straight into the corner before colliding with a spear that leads into some mounted punches that the crowd is happy to count out for him. SAW manages to deflect the worst of the blows before striking back with a stiff punch to the jaw, earning himself a warning from Ref Stef for the closed fist strike. SAW battles back with a few stiff elbows into the ribs, forcing Thunder to back off only to have him suddenly dodge a telegraphed strike and get inside SAW’s guard for a punch to the throat followed by a trip Into The Styx (spinning spinebuster)!
Thunder grabs SAW to bring him back to his feet, but he gets taken down with a bearhug tackle that turns into a kimura! Thunder moves his arm and rolls back, reversing it and the look of shock on SAW’s face matches the surprised enthusiasm of the crowd as they break apart and get right back up. SAW charges at Thunder, taking him down with a messy roaring elbow. Thunder’s first up and he manages to capitalize on the botched move as he hits SAW in the back of the head with a huge forearm shot. SAW falls to his knees and Thunder kicks him in the gut before lifting The Master up and over his head, dropping him with the Fall From Grace (vertical suplex)!! He hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW—NO!
SAW stumbles back to his feet, and he lunges at Thunder, taking him down as he reverses momentum with a shoulder block, gaining advantage as he locks on a crossface hold. Thunder fights to break free, straining towards the ropes to no avail as SAW continues to wrench on his neck. Using his sheer power, Thunder is up on all fours, crawling, dragging SAW along with him. The crowd boos loudly, and then erupts in cheers as SAW grabs Thunder's arms from behind, flipping him over for a triangle choke but he can’t get past Luther’s guard. SAW springs back to his feet and Thunder grabs his leg, pulling him down into an inside cradle – REVERSAL! SAW hits Thunder with a few shots to the ribs and then kicks the back of his knee, transitioning to a half Boston crab. Thunder does nothing to fight back, letting SAW exhaust himself in the process. After a moment of sheer frustration, SAW breaks the hold, waits for Thunder to face him, and then goes for a clothesline – NOPE! Thunder takes the impact and wraps his arms around SAW, driving a knee into his gut. When SAW doubles up, Thunder hoists him up into the Sword Of Damocles (crucifix powerbomb) and slams him down so hard the ring looks like it might collapse. He dives in, driving a knee into SAW’s guts before hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
SAW gets the shoulder up a split second too late and the dismay is written all over his face as Thunder surges to his feet, triumphant as his music erupts over the speakers.
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): LUTHER THUNDER
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
STATIC
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
CARNIVORE vs KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Carnivore wastes no time, diving in with a dirty eye rake. Kalinda staggers back and The Cult Leader dives in, connecting with a headbutt before an overhead belly to belly suplex has the Princess of the Universe skidding across the ring on her back. Carnivore is all over her and he hoists Kalinda up, absolutely decimating the cruiserweight dragoness with a gorilla press slam. Kalinda struggles to her feet, shaking away the cobwebs, but Carnivore charges back in, looking for a lariat – TAIL SWEEP OF DOOM~! He’s tripped up and Kalinda grabs his ankle with her tail, pulling him in close even as she springboards off the second rope for a magic missile dropkick that lands, despite all that’s going on. Carnivore goes down to a knee and a Mephisto Waltz (superkick to the throat) connects, sending him flat on his back. She looks for the cover and it’s reversed immediately as Carnivore locks her into a camel clutch, digging his thumbs into Kalinda's eyes as he wrenches on her neck. Rana sees it and gives Carnivore a warning, threatening to eject him from the match for the blatant eye gouge so he releases the hold.
He’s back up immediately and springs off the ropes, looking for a clothesline as Kalinda stumbles back to her feet, rubbing at her eyes. She lunges at The Cult Leader, taking him down as she reverses Carnivore's momentum with a flawless shining wizard. He’s still down when she rushes to the ropes, grabbing her manager from the apron and she sets him up just so, keeping her eyes on Carnivore. As he starts to stagger up, she backs off and takes a running start, stepping up on Sinistrous and launching herself so that the moment he’s upright, she nails him in the smiley face mask with a double knee strike.
WHAM!
They both go down hard but Kalinda is up first as the crowd erupts with a mixed response. She turns around and immediately dodges a clothesline attempt, following it up with a springboard dropkick. The Cult Leader stumbles back against the ropes and Kalinda charges in, looking for a lariat. At the last second, Carnivore drops and pulls the ropes down, and Kalinda sails over them to the floor – she lands on her feet just as Carnivore launches himself from the ring apron looking for a rolling senton but she catches him and turns it into a back drop on the floor!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Kalinda rolls up to her feet and back into the ring, breaking up the count and surprisingly, Carnivore follows her in, staggering up to his feet. It’s clear he took the worst of that impact as Kalinda lays into him with the chops, getting a loud response from the crowd with each one as she manages to back The Cult Leader into the corner, taking advantage of his unsteady footing to make him stumble back. Suddenly, Carnivore rears back, unloading with a huge European uppercut that leaves Kalinda momentarily dazed and he immediately rolls her up into a schoolboy!
ONE— no!
Kalinda kicks out with authority. They're back on their feet and Kalinda sends Carnivore packing into the ropes, looking to catch him on the rebound with a scissor kick but he dodges, looks for a Superman punch and instead gets a face full of mist. It doesn’t seem to do anything for a moment as he shrugs and goes back at Kalinda but there’s obviously some sort of ventilation so he can breathe in the thing and a moment later, he’s down and screaming, clutching at his masked face. Kalinda backs off as though to give him breathing room, and then seems to reconsider, instead dropping down and locking in the Queen's Dominion (Stretch Muffler/Scorpion Crosslock hybrid) and she’s got the tail around his midsection. He’s still screaming, struggling to breathe or maybe his eyes are melting – it’s unclear but he’s got nowhere to go and he taps out almost immediately, desperate to get the tainted mask off his face.
WINNER (VIA SUBMISSION): KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
The screen image distorts, stretches, twists, and turns to static for a moment before a rapid sequence of images appears, each separated by a moment of static. A skull, half buried in sand. A grenade whose pin comes out, seemingly of its own volition. A grinning hyena amongst picked clean bones. A straight razor with a drop of dark fluid resting on the edge of a tub with the tiles splattered with more of the same. A burned out building in a rainstorm, water pouring off its decaying floors exposed to the air without a roof. An old phone and handset, the beige plastic discolored by age, the handset sitting on the counter, a light on reading INTERCOM.
The static vanishes for a moment as a haunting, seven note whistle repeats three times, the sound echoing and haunting as if played in a vast, empty space.
UNKNOWN VOICE
Attention, Hellmart shoppers. We have a Blackheart special in aisle Zero. Six. Six Six. ZERO. Where you can save Zero. Six. Six. Six. ZERO. percent of 90 percent recycled souls. Thank you for shopping at Big H, AS IF YOU HAD A CHOICE WHILE YOU BURN!
A cheerful feminine voice recites a long dead spiel of bargains, the recitation of each numeral seemingly spliced in and automated. The second zero distorted and overlapping with a dozen harsh, snarling voices behind it, as is the final line which trails away into a cackling chorus of demonic laughter. There's a flash of static, the image of a bow being drawn across a skeletal violin in a scare chord, and then another flash of static to the glowing eyes and maw of Kalinda Kriegsdottir as she channels the full unsettling might of her mantle as the Left Hand of Arimus, Lord of the Black, Prince of Fiends, The Smoking Scythe of Death himself.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Well here we are, you and I. We may have met before, but here we are meeting anew. And yet… and yet we know each other so well, don't we? We're so much alike, you and I. We have so much in common.
Kalinda produces an orb from beneath her cloak, clutching it in the bony talons of her left hand, the crystalline sphere producing the image of Carnivore's trademark smiling mask.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
We're such old friends, you and I. Though not really. More of what we are, what we represent. Overlord and cult leader. Genius and madman. Death and insanity. Or perhaps, if one were to be unkind, the two identities that youthful edgelords who want to be all sinister and threatening adopt.
In the tarot of my home realm we are the Dark Sorcerer and the Anguished Prince. The Dark Sorcerer, the embodiment of the malefic school of magic, calling forth the darkest and most damning of spells. The Anguished Prince, a once noble heart who has shattered from the pressures applied to them, fracturing into a million tattered pieces, never again to be a whole being.
Kalinda's grin widens and she tilts her head to the side in mirth.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
But are you truly the Anguished Prince that you portray? Or are you merely a pretender in the darkness, your highness? Not an Anguished Prince, but rather a Master of Many Masks, a benefic tarot, not a malefic one. The shining reflection of my own ancestor, the Lady in Shade.
Now there was a proper villain. The most recent of the Malefic Tarot to be forged and codified, merely a handful of centuries ago. Forged along with the grand Empire of Blood as a Dark Sorcerer rose to claim his place as the Blood King of Monsters. The Lady in Shade was, and is, a saboteur and an assassin. But the hand that she wields the dagger in is not her own.
Rather it is the hand of a patsy, a catspaw, a minion, somebody disposable who can be thrown away. Sacrificed. But the Lady's terror is not in the death she brings, but rather her methods. The Anguished Prince, he wears a mask upon his face, pallid and rotten. But the Lady in Shade wears no mask. The Lady infiltrates the flesh of her targets, becomes a puppet-master pulling their strings, whispering her wicked intentions into their very souls as they watch helpless as she uses their flesh to commit atrocities.
Kalinda giggles and then catches herself, scowling slightly, and then letting off a proper deep and sinister laugh.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
But the Master of Masks, he's so much worse. While the Lady's horrors are the dread-terrors of the deepest, darkest nightmares, her ministrations are applied personally and one at a time. While the Shade has her Shadows, a Shadow will never have the full power of that which casts it.
But a mask? Oh a mask has power, even when sloughed off by the beast whose mask is in fact its true face. For in time we all become the masks that we wear. 'Come,' says the Master of Masks, 'And put on your True Face,' and the mask is slipped on and soon the face becomes the lie and the mask becomes the truth.
A heretic. An apostate. A disgusting wretch who commits the ultimate sin.
Kalinda holds up her orb and the camera zooms in, showing an image of Daniel Dream in UPRISING catering, gleefully munching on a slice of pizza that has pineapple on it.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
The depths of your depravity shown to the world, little Dreamer. And I wonder how I did not see it sooner. For you gleefully wear the mask of your most grievous of sins upon your head, displaying your apostasy to the world. For the Pallid Mask of the Carnivore is in itself a mask, a lie, a falsehood.
Kalinda taps a taloned finger on the orb, right on Carnivore's smiley-face mask, sitting there on the table.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Because you are not a Carnivore. You sit there basking in the adoration of all the middle-aged old biddies on Facebook, the prince of Minion memes and boomer humor. The king of a million microaggressions against the world. The lord of 'Live, Laugh, Love.' The sultan of subtle spousal abuse portraying marriage as a wretched prison from which there is no escape, and yet you must lure in the singles into the misery mire with you, must convince them to breed, to feed future generations of anguish into the pyre.
Behold, Carnivore! The Pallid Prince of Peeled Pineapple, perfidious in his prideful pigging out on profaned pizza!
The orb is slipped under Kalinda's robe and she glares into the camera.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Not old friends, but old enemies, the Dark Sorcerer and the Master of Many Masks. We're the first refuge for those in wrestling in souls filled with longing. Longing to be something more than they already are. The magician performing parlor tricks, until one day he signs away a piece of himself as a lark, secure in his knowledge that there are no demons. Until one day he finds himself compelled, and unable to stop himself from travelling to the crossroads. For once you give a piece of your soul away it will be traded by fiends as currency, and in time the darkness will always come to bargain.
And the timid heart that looks at themselves in the mirror and knows that he fills no hearts with fear, that not a single drop of nervous sweat will dot the brow of those whom he rallies against. So he reaches out into his imagination and he pulls out a mask. But this is not a true Master of Many Masks, but a Master of None. He pretends that the mask he wears is real, but it is a fiction, a falsehood, and a lie that he wears on his face.
She shakes her head slowly.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
His mask is the cold, dead, lifeless lie of a pretender, an actor, a deceiver. His lies are immature and petty, his sins so petty as to be pathetic. There is nothing in a heart as black as mine save pity for a man who is so desperate to be feared that he creates a false demon to strike the fear into the hearts of his foes that he never could on his own.
But the biggest lie is not the mask he wears, but rather the lie he tells himself. 'Yes, these people fear me. They fear my mask. They fear my other self. They fear my demon.' When the truth is there is no fear, and there is no mask. The emperor stands naked before you bereft of clothes. There is no demon. There is no terror. There is only a sad little man who cannot be respected, and he tries to replace respect with fear. But there will be no fear. Only pity.
Despite the mention of that emotion, her tone evokes no such sentiment.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
And such is the fate of a False Master of Masks. Fancying themselves a high priest of a religion, but in truth not even having enough personality to be the center of a cult. No, what the lowest of your archetype is, Carnivore, but a pitiful wretch surrounding himself by even more pitiful wretches. Unwashed masses of idiots too stupid to realize that the demonic mask is made of papier-mâché, the dread teachings pilfered from a dime-store horror novel, and the wicked deeds involve merely walking about after the official closing time in the local park and then hitting up a Denny's afterwards.
Just a normal park, mind you. Not even a dog park. The dog park does not exist. Do not think about the dog park. Typing the dog park into an internet search is a thought crime. Please bring offerings of precious metals and children to the dog park. Dogs are not allowed in the dog park. Humans are not allowed in the dog park. In time the fence will be restored to the dog park.
That two note whistle sounds, indicating the presence of a tweet, and sure enough one appears in the lower portion of the screen again.
KALINDA KRIESDOTTIR
The time has come to prove yourself Carnivore. You fancy yourself a priest of an Elder God, who is also named Carnivore, which kind of indicates that at least one of you is an unoriginal piece of shit at naming things.
Are you a servant of a true god, imbued with unspeakable powers by an eldritch horror from beyond the edges of the known universe, or are you some dumb fuck in a rubber smiley-face mask who is pretending to have multiple personalities because he thought it made him interesting and dangerous seeming when he got into wrestling?
She pauses just long enough for that to resonate before continuing.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Ooooh, but Kalinda, I have herpa derpa perpa derpanality disorder! My mom died in a Coca Cola accident when I was eight and my dad's been in jail for 17 years for unlawful carnal relations with a reluctant walrus! And then Tickles the Clown lured me into the Woodshed of Shame with the promise of Pokémon cards and told me that he was French while he rubbed my feet and made me wear clown shoes! It's totally a real thing! I wouldn't lie about a thing like that!
Says the man in a profession where everybody lies to everybody about anything. Some people around here are so fucking carnie that they shit clowns. And I'm just waiting to see who among us uses their anus as a parking lot for clown cars and emits the sound of a calliope organ playing "Entry of the Gladiators" whenever the pass gas.
The whistle sounds once more, yet another tweet appearing.
Kalinda roars in rage.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
GODS DAMN YOU, TRUCK MONKEYS! I TOLD YOU THERE WOULD BE CONSEQUENCES FOR THIS KENTUCKY FRIED BULLSHIT TWO WEEKS AGO! SOME MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO BE FORCE FED AVOCADO-HABANERO MAYONNAISE FROM A HOSE! SOMEBODY CALL ENIGMA AND TELL THE DENSE MOTHERFUCKER TO GET THE MOP AND A SQUEEGEE! FUCK!
Kalinda storms off, digging through the pockets of her Coat of Holding and pulling out a rather ominous looking firehose nozzle.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Now it's blue, blue, red, blue, green for avocado-habanero mayonnaise, right? I wouldn't want to get mixed up with napalm shitting cockroaches again and I know that is blue, red, red, blue, green…
The static vanishes for a moment as a haunting, seven note whistle repeats three times, the sound echoing and haunting as if played in a vast, empty space.
UNKNOWN VOICE
Attention, Hellmart shoppers. We have a Blackheart special in aisle Zero. Six. Six Six. ZERO. Where you can save Zero. Six. Six. Six. ZERO. percent of 90 percent recycled souls. Thank you for shopping at Big H, AS IF YOU HAD A CHOICE WHILE YOU BURN!
A cheerful feminine voice recites a long dead spiel of bargains, the recitation of each numeral seemingly spliced in and automated. The second zero distorted and overlapping with a dozen harsh, snarling voices behind it, as is the final line which trails away into a cackling chorus of demonic laughter. There's a flash of static, the image of a bow being drawn across a skeletal violin in a scare chord, and then another flash of static to the glowing eyes and maw of Kalinda Kriegsdottir as she channels the full unsettling might of her mantle as the Left Hand of Arimus, Lord of the Black, Prince of Fiends, The Smoking Scythe of Death himself.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Well here we are, you and I. We may have met before, but here we are meeting anew. And yet… and yet we know each other so well, don't we? We're so much alike, you and I. We have so much in common.
Kalinda produces an orb from beneath her cloak, clutching it in the bony talons of her left hand, the crystalline sphere producing the image of Carnivore's trademark smiling mask.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
We're such old friends, you and I. Though not really. More of what we are, what we represent. Overlord and cult leader. Genius and madman. Death and insanity. Or perhaps, if one were to be unkind, the two identities that youthful edgelords who want to be all sinister and threatening adopt.
In the tarot of my home realm we are the Dark Sorcerer and the Anguished Prince. The Dark Sorcerer, the embodiment of the malefic school of magic, calling forth the darkest and most damning of spells. The Anguished Prince, a once noble heart who has shattered from the pressures applied to them, fracturing into a million tattered pieces, never again to be a whole being.
Kalinda's grin widens and she tilts her head to the side in mirth.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
But are you truly the Anguished Prince that you portray? Or are you merely a pretender in the darkness, your highness? Not an Anguished Prince, but rather a Master of Many Masks, a benefic tarot, not a malefic one. The shining reflection of my own ancestor, the Lady in Shade.
Now there was a proper villain. The most recent of the Malefic Tarot to be forged and codified, merely a handful of centuries ago. Forged along with the grand Empire of Blood as a Dark Sorcerer rose to claim his place as the Blood King of Monsters. The Lady in Shade was, and is, a saboteur and an assassin. But the hand that she wields the dagger in is not her own.
Rather it is the hand of a patsy, a catspaw, a minion, somebody disposable who can be thrown away. Sacrificed. But the Lady's terror is not in the death she brings, but rather her methods. The Anguished Prince, he wears a mask upon his face, pallid and rotten. But the Lady in Shade wears no mask. The Lady infiltrates the flesh of her targets, becomes a puppet-master pulling their strings, whispering her wicked intentions into their very souls as they watch helpless as she uses their flesh to commit atrocities.
Kalinda giggles and then catches herself, scowling slightly, and then letting off a proper deep and sinister laugh.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
But the Master of Masks, he's so much worse. While the Lady's horrors are the dread-terrors of the deepest, darkest nightmares, her ministrations are applied personally and one at a time. While the Shade has her Shadows, a Shadow will never have the full power of that which casts it.
But a mask? Oh a mask has power, even when sloughed off by the beast whose mask is in fact its true face. For in time we all become the masks that we wear. 'Come,' says the Master of Masks, 'And put on your True Face,' and the mask is slipped on and soon the face becomes the lie and the mask becomes the truth.
A heretic. An apostate. A disgusting wretch who commits the ultimate sin.
Kalinda holds up her orb and the camera zooms in, showing an image of Daniel Dream in UPRISING catering, gleefully munching on a slice of pizza that has pineapple on it.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
The depths of your depravity shown to the world, little Dreamer. And I wonder how I did not see it sooner. For you gleefully wear the mask of your most grievous of sins upon your head, displaying your apostasy to the world. For the Pallid Mask of the Carnivore is in itself a mask, a lie, a falsehood.
Kalinda taps a taloned finger on the orb, right on Carnivore's smiley-face mask, sitting there on the table.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Because you are not a Carnivore. You sit there basking in the adoration of all the middle-aged old biddies on Facebook, the prince of Minion memes and boomer humor. The king of a million microaggressions against the world. The lord of 'Live, Laugh, Love.' The sultan of subtle spousal abuse portraying marriage as a wretched prison from which there is no escape, and yet you must lure in the singles into the misery mire with you, must convince them to breed, to feed future generations of anguish into the pyre.
Behold, Carnivore! The Pallid Prince of Peeled Pineapple, perfidious in his prideful pigging out on profaned pizza!
The orb is slipped under Kalinda's robe and she glares into the camera.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Not old friends, but old enemies, the Dark Sorcerer and the Master of Many Masks. We're the first refuge for those in wrestling in souls filled with longing. Longing to be something more than they already are. The magician performing parlor tricks, until one day he signs away a piece of himself as a lark, secure in his knowledge that there are no demons. Until one day he finds himself compelled, and unable to stop himself from travelling to the crossroads. For once you give a piece of your soul away it will be traded by fiends as currency, and in time the darkness will always come to bargain.
And the timid heart that looks at themselves in the mirror and knows that he fills no hearts with fear, that not a single drop of nervous sweat will dot the brow of those whom he rallies against. So he reaches out into his imagination and he pulls out a mask. But this is not a true Master of Many Masks, but a Master of None. He pretends that the mask he wears is real, but it is a fiction, a falsehood, and a lie that he wears on his face.
She shakes her head slowly.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
His mask is the cold, dead, lifeless lie of a pretender, an actor, a deceiver. His lies are immature and petty, his sins so petty as to be pathetic. There is nothing in a heart as black as mine save pity for a man who is so desperate to be feared that he creates a false demon to strike the fear into the hearts of his foes that he never could on his own.
But the biggest lie is not the mask he wears, but rather the lie he tells himself. 'Yes, these people fear me. They fear my mask. They fear my other self. They fear my demon.' When the truth is there is no fear, and there is no mask. The emperor stands naked before you bereft of clothes. There is no demon. There is no terror. There is only a sad little man who cannot be respected, and he tries to replace respect with fear. But there will be no fear. Only pity.
Despite the mention of that emotion, her tone evokes no such sentiment.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
And such is the fate of a False Master of Masks. Fancying themselves a high priest of a religion, but in truth not even having enough personality to be the center of a cult. No, what the lowest of your archetype is, Carnivore, but a pitiful wretch surrounding himself by even more pitiful wretches. Unwashed masses of idiots too stupid to realize that the demonic mask is made of papier-mâché, the dread teachings pilfered from a dime-store horror novel, and the wicked deeds involve merely walking about after the official closing time in the local park and then hitting up a Denny's afterwards.
Just a normal park, mind you. Not even a dog park. The dog park does not exist. Do not think about the dog park. Typing the dog park into an internet search is a thought crime. Please bring offerings of precious metals and children to the dog park. Dogs are not allowed in the dog park. Humans are not allowed in the dog park. In time the fence will be restored to the dog park.
That two note whistle sounds, indicating the presence of a tweet, and sure enough one appears in the lower portion of the screen again.
KALINDA KRIESDOTTIR
The time has come to prove yourself Carnivore. You fancy yourself a priest of an Elder God, who is also named Carnivore, which kind of indicates that at least one of you is an unoriginal piece of shit at naming things.
Are you a servant of a true god, imbued with unspeakable powers by an eldritch horror from beyond the edges of the known universe, or are you some dumb fuck in a rubber smiley-face mask who is pretending to have multiple personalities because he thought it made him interesting and dangerous seeming when he got into wrestling?
She pauses just long enough for that to resonate before continuing.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Ooooh, but Kalinda, I have herpa derpa perpa derpanality disorder! My mom died in a Coca Cola accident when I was eight and my dad's been in jail for 17 years for unlawful carnal relations with a reluctant walrus! And then Tickles the Clown lured me into the Woodshed of Shame with the promise of Pokémon cards and told me that he was French while he rubbed my feet and made me wear clown shoes! It's totally a real thing! I wouldn't lie about a thing like that!
Says the man in a profession where everybody lies to everybody about anything. Some people around here are so fucking carnie that they shit clowns. And I'm just waiting to see who among us uses their anus as a parking lot for clown cars and emits the sound of a calliope organ playing "Entry of the Gladiators" whenever the pass gas.
The whistle sounds once more, yet another tweet appearing.
Kalinda roars in rage.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
GODS DAMN YOU, TRUCK MONKEYS! I TOLD YOU THERE WOULD BE CONSEQUENCES FOR THIS KENTUCKY FRIED BULLSHIT TWO WEEKS AGO! SOME MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO BE FORCE FED AVOCADO-HABANERO MAYONNAISE FROM A HOSE! SOMEBODY CALL ENIGMA AND TELL THE DENSE MOTHERFUCKER TO GET THE MOP AND A SQUEEGEE! FUCK!
Kalinda storms off, digging through the pockets of her Coat of Holding and pulling out a rather ominous looking firehose nozzle.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Now it's blue, blue, red, blue, green for avocado-habanero mayonnaise, right? I wouldn't want to get mixed up with napalm shitting cockroaches again and I know that is blue, red, red, blue, green…
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
CARNIVORE vs KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
Carnivore wastes no time, diving in with a dirty eye rake. Kalinda staggers back and The Cult Leader dives in, connecting with a headbutt before an overhead belly to belly suplex has the Princess of the Universe skidding across the ring on her back. Carnivore is all over her and he hoists Kalinda up, absolutely decimating the cruiserweight dragoness with a gorilla press slam. Kalinda struggles to her feet, shaking away the cobwebs, but Carnivore charges back in, looking for a lariat – TAIL SWEEP OF DOOM~! He’s tripped up and Kalinda grabs his ankle with her tail, pulling him in close even as she springboards off the second rope for a magic missile dropkick that lands, despite all that’s going on. Carnivore goes down to a knee and a Mephisto Waltz (superkick to the throat) connects, sending him flat on his back. She looks for the cover and it’s reversed immediately as Carnivore locks her into a camel clutch, digging his thumbs into Kalinda's eyes as he wrenches on her neck. Rana sees it and gives Carnivore a warning, threatening to eject him from the match for the blatant eye gouge so he releases the hold.
He’s back up immediately and springs off the ropes, looking for a clothesline as Kalinda stumbles back to her feet, rubbing at her eyes. She lunges at The Cult Leader, taking him down as she reverses Carnivore's momentum with a flawless shining wizard. He’s still down when she rushes to the ropes, grabbing her manager from the apron and she sets him up just so, keeping her eyes on Carnivore. As he starts to stagger up, she backs off and takes a running start, stepping up on Sinistrous and launching herself so that the moment he’s upright, she nails him in the smiley face mask with a double knee strike.
WHAM!
They both go down hard but Kalinda is up first as the crowd erupts with a mixed response. She turns around and immediately dodges a clothesline attempt, following it up with a springboard dropkick. The Cult Leader stumbles back against the ropes and Kalinda charges in, looking for a lariat. At the last second, Carnivore drops and pulls the ropes down, and Kalinda sails over them to the floor – she lands on her feet just as Carnivore launches himself from the ring apron looking for a rolling senton but she catches him and turns it into a back drop on the floor!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Kalinda rolls up to her feet and back into the ring, breaking up the count and surprisingly, Carnivore follows her in, staggering up to his feet. It’s clear he took the worst of that impact as Kalinda lays into him with the chops, getting a loud response from the crowd with each one as she manages to back The Cult Leader into the corner, taking advantage of his unsteady footing to make him stumble back. Suddenly, Carnivore rears back, unloading with a huge European uppercut that leaves Kalinda momentarily dazed and he immediately rolls her up into a schoolboy!
ONE— no!
Kalinda kicks out with authority. They're back on their feet and Kalinda sends Carnivore packing into the ropes, looking to catch him on the rebound with a scissor kick but he dodges, looks for a Superman punch and instead gets a face full of mist. It doesn’t seem to do anything for a moment as he shrugs and goes back at Kalinda but there’s obviously some sort of ventilation so he can breathe in the thing and a moment later, he’s down and screaming, clutching at his masked face. Kalinda backs off as though to give him breathing room, and then seems to reconsider, instead dropping down and locking in the Queen's Dominion (Stretch Muffler/Scorpion Crosslock hybrid) and she’s got the tail around his midsection. He’s still screaming, struggling to breathe or maybe his eyes are melting – it’s unclear but he’s got nowhere to go and he taps out almost immediately, desperate to get the tainted mask off his face.
WINNER (VIA SUBMISSION): KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
Loud footfalls echo down the hallway before SAW comes into view, no traces of that easygoing smile on his face now. He’s sweaty, obviously fresh from his match and it’s clear that he is not at all pleased with the outcome.
MALE VOICE
Tough break, man.
He stops in his tracks, whirling around to see KENDRICK KROSS standing in the doorway to one of the locker rooms, already in his street clothes.
SAW
Excuse me?
KENDRICK KROSS
I was watching back here on the monitors. You almost had him. Hell, I thought you did and then—
SAW
You beat a clown tonight. Doesn’t mean you should start acting like one.
There’s a dark look on the face of Kross for a moment as he takes in those words, pushing off from the doorway as he steps in closer to The Master.
KENDRICK KROSS
I was just trying to make conversation, man. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Weren’t you offering to buy a few rounds for Thunder tonight, regardless of the outcome? Relax. Not trying to rattle your cage. You want a piece of me?
Even though he’s got his hands at his sides and a smile on his face, there’s a thread of steel in the tone of Kross.
SAW
Maybe I do.
KENDRICK KROSS
Yeah?
He takes a few steps closer, not really surprised when SAW does the same so they’re standing inches apart, both men wearing identical expressions. After a moment, Kross nods and chuckles, letting the tension drop as he takes a step back.
KENDRICK KROSS
Save it for the ring, ‘friend’. That way we both get paid.
_____________________________________________
MALE VOICE
Tough break, man.
He stops in his tracks, whirling around to see KENDRICK KROSS standing in the doorway to one of the locker rooms, already in his street clothes.
SAW
Excuse me?
KENDRICK KROSS
I was watching back here on the monitors. You almost had him. Hell, I thought you did and then—
SAW
You beat a clown tonight. Doesn’t mean you should start acting like one.
There’s a dark look on the face of Kross for a moment as he takes in those words, pushing off from the doorway as he steps in closer to The Master.
KENDRICK KROSS
I was just trying to make conversation, man. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Weren’t you offering to buy a few rounds for Thunder tonight, regardless of the outcome? Relax. Not trying to rattle your cage. You want a piece of me?
Even though he’s got his hands at his sides and a smile on his face, there’s a thread of steel in the tone of Kross.
SAW
Maybe I do.
KENDRICK KROSS
Yeah?
He takes a few steps closer, not really surprised when SAW does the same so they’re standing inches apart, both men wearing identical expressions. After a moment, Kross nods and chuckles, letting the tension drop as he takes a step back.
KENDRICK KROSS
Save it for the ring, ‘friend’. That way we both get paid.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- BACKSTAGE
EMILY JOHNSON
EMILY JOHNSON
EMILY JOHNSON
EMILY JOHNSON
MICHAEL MAROU
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
CHRIS MOSH vs MICHAEL MAROU
Marou catches Mosh in a Muay Thai clinch the moment the bell rings, nailing a vicious knee to the face. Mosh goes down hard and Marou dives in for a cover before that Mosh kicks out of before Neil Rana can even get in position. Back up, Marou goes for a stalling suplex but Mosh catches him in the back of the head and slips out the back door, rolling to the floor to get his bearings. Marou makes the mistake of following him out and gets a hard shot to the jaw as Mosh does a jumping kick off the ring steps. He staggers back, trying to shake off the impact and Mosh grabs him, sending him into the ring post before helping him back into the ring. It looks like Cold-Hearted Chris is in control and he takes Marou down with a powerslam. Scooping Marou back up, he connects with a few stiff punches before a vertical suplex. Marou tries for a sunset flip and Mosh REVERSES IT! Mosh sends Marou packing with an Irish whip and then nearly decapitates him with a clothesline! He smothers Marou for a pinfall.
ONE!
TW— NO!
Marou gets a shoulder up and Mosh transitions to a sleeper hold, doing everything he can to keep targeting his opponent’s head and face. Marou reverses into his own sleeper only for Mosh to jawbreaker out. For that he gets met with a backbreaker and some chops that drive him back against the ropes as the crowd starts to get restless. Mosh retaliates with a boot to the midsection and he grabs Marou around the waist— NO! Reversal into a rolling German suplex! Marou hits a snap suplex but Mosh dumps him on the ropes, desperate to shift the momentum back in his favor. It’s almost like the attack on the injury has given Marou renewed purpose and as Mosh goes for a diving crossbody, Marou rolls through it – Court Martial (sit-out pile driver) out of nowhere! He hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW—
Chris Mosh kicks out and Marou has to reset, going to work on the leg of his opponent. A stiff shinbreaker connects, leaving Mosh howling in agony as Marou grabs him for a single leg takedown, looking to trap him up with a guillotine choke – DENIED! Mosh gets a hold of the rope and forces a break! Back up, Mosh surprises Marou by rushing at him, even with a huge limp and manages to take him down with a weak but effective backbreaker. They battle back to the ropes and Mosh hits a hanging DDT that has the crowd going ballistic. Marou rolls out to the floor and Mosh follows, soaking up the cheering of the crowd. Mosh tries to suplex him back in but it's blocked— slingshot over the ropes and Marou catches Mosh, looking for another Court Martial— NO! Reversal into a backslide! Marou breaks free and rolls back to his feet, sending Mosh into the ropes. Mosh goes for a clothesline on the rebound but Marou ducks under, spins around and BAM! CORPORAL PUNISHMENT (super kick) TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! Mosh goes down hard and Marou dives in, hooking the leg deep.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): MICHAEL MAROU
Michael Marou is seen standing backstage with his manager, Emily Johnson. He’s dressed in his ring gear already, consisting of his black ‘Fuck Failure’ shirt and a pair of shorts. Additionally this week he has an ace bandage wrapped tightly from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his head, the only thing he can use to keep his fractured jaw in place. He also has the Valiant Wrestling Chaos title draped over his shoulder. Emily, dressed in a red top and skirt, smiles into the camera as she speaks.
EMILY JOHNSON
My client here asked me to say a few words for him today. He feels he said enough over the last week in his prerecorded promo and Twitter banter. So I've decided to enlighten you all on exactly who Michael Marou is.
Emily continues to smile as Michael stands slightly just behind her, stoic and confident.
EMILY JOHNSON
Michael is righteous. Noble. Principled. A real straight shooter. And above all, he's ambitious. This man put his life on the line for each and every American as he took the fight to the enemy as part of the greatest military force in the history of the world. He led soldiers into war, and trained them how to be warriors. He is the epitome of warrior himself.
Emily continues talking up her client with her fingers clasped together in front of her. Her smile turns to a smirk as she carries on.
EMILY JOHNSON
So it strikes me as odd that the first thing his opponents continue to do is discount him and underestimate him. The outright disrespect it takes to doubt this man's chances at winning is abysmal. Kendrick Kross said that Michael had no chance in winning at all. And what happened? Michael beat him so bad he was no longer able to continue. He couldn't even defend himself from the onslaught of brutality that Michael brought to him. And then not even two weeks later on Twitter, Kross is begging for Michael to lower his standards and grant him a rematch in GEW. It's sad, truly.
Michael grins behind her, knowing these words will get under Kross' skin.
EMILY JOHNSON
Then we move on to tonight's opponent. Chris Mosh. He seems to think that because he was able to beat Forge, that guarantees him a victory against my client. Let me be very clear, Christopher. You're not stepping into the ring against Forge tonight. You're stepping in against the Ironman of professional wrestling. You're stepping into the hottest talent in wrestling today. Lord Chaos himself.
Both Michael and Emily gloss over the fact that Ironman is a superhero and Lord Chaos is a villain. Not important.
EMILY JOHNSON
You came out and talked about how you like Michael. You think he's a cool guy. You act like you're buddies. But Michael would like to reiterate that the two of you aren't friends. You're simply his next victim. And yes, we all know you're going to fight with all you got. You're going to leave everything in that ring with hopes of advancing to the next round of this tournament. I'm here to tell you that all your effort is for naught. You can give every ounce of fight that you have and it won't mean a damn thing. Because while you're giving it your all, Michael is God-Tier talent and you won't measure up.
Michael steps forward now, deciding that Emily has spoken enough.
MICHAEL MAROU
Emily, we don’t need to waste much more time on this. Everything we say will go in one ear and out the other. Mosh will continue to believe I don't have a chance of beating him until the second bell rings and he's staring at the lights as I'm standing victorious. I will go on to the next round. I'll go all the way to the end. And I will be the first Uprising Champion. Get ready for Ironman.
Michael walks forward, nearly pushing the camera out of the way as he goes to get ready for his match. Emily follows him closely as the scene fades out.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
CHRIS MOSH vs MICHAEL MAROU
Marou catches Mosh in a Muay Thai clinch the moment the bell rings, nailing a vicious knee to the face. Mosh goes down hard and Marou dives in for a cover before that Mosh kicks out of before Neil Rana can even get in position. Back up, Marou goes for a stalling suplex but Mosh catches him in the back of the head and slips out the back door, rolling to the floor to get his bearings. Marou makes the mistake of following him out and gets a hard shot to the jaw as Mosh does a jumping kick off the ring steps. He staggers back, trying to shake off the impact and Mosh grabs him, sending him into the ring post before helping him back into the ring. It looks like Cold-Hearted Chris is in control and he takes Marou down with a powerslam. Scooping Marou back up, he connects with a few stiff punches before a vertical suplex. Marou tries for a sunset flip and Mosh REVERSES IT! Mosh sends Marou packing with an Irish whip and then nearly decapitates him with a clothesline! He smothers Marou for a pinfall.
ONE!
TW— NO!
Marou gets a shoulder up and Mosh transitions to a sleeper hold, doing everything he can to keep targeting his opponent’s head and face. Marou reverses into his own sleeper only for Mosh to jawbreaker out. For that he gets met with a backbreaker and some chops that drive him back against the ropes as the crowd starts to get restless. Mosh retaliates with a boot to the midsection and he grabs Marou around the waist— NO! Reversal into a rolling German suplex! Marou hits a snap suplex but Mosh dumps him on the ropes, desperate to shift the momentum back in his favor. It’s almost like the attack on the injury has given Marou renewed purpose and as Mosh goes for a diving crossbody, Marou rolls through it – Court Martial (sit-out pile driver) out of nowhere! He hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW—
Chris Mosh kicks out and Marou has to reset, going to work on the leg of his opponent. A stiff shinbreaker connects, leaving Mosh howling in agony as Marou grabs him for a single leg takedown, looking to trap him up with a guillotine choke – DENIED! Mosh gets a hold of the rope and forces a break! Back up, Mosh surprises Marou by rushing at him, even with a huge limp and manages to take him down with a weak but effective backbreaker. They battle back to the ropes and Mosh hits a hanging DDT that has the crowd going ballistic. Marou rolls out to the floor and Mosh follows, soaking up the cheering of the crowd. Mosh tries to suplex him back in but it's blocked— slingshot over the ropes and Marou catches Mosh, looking for another Court Martial— NO! Reversal into a backslide! Marou breaks free and rolls back to his feet, sending Mosh into the ropes. Mosh goes for a clothesline on the rebound but Marou ducks under, spins around and BAM! CORPORAL PUNISHMENT (super kick) TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! Mosh goes down hard and Marou dives in, hooking the leg deep.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): MICHAEL MAROU
CUT TO:
EXT. SOMEWHERE IN RENO
Everything comes into focus and as it does we are able to see Hope Williams. She can't help but crack a wicked grin as she isn't in her wrestling gear yet. She is clad in a very short mini skirt, small top and a pair of heels. She isn't alone as she is joined by her husband Todd Williams. Hope smiles as she is approached by Luis Montes who looks quite pleased to see her until he notices her husband standing next to her.
LUIS MONTEZ
Good evening, Uprising fans! I hope you're having a great time tonight.
He pauses for the crowd pop and that smile grows as he looks over at Hope again.
LUIS MONTEZ
Tonight, I have the distinct pleasure to welcome someone who's making her debut alongside three other huge signings in tonight's Main Event. As we're all well aware, Forge Mitchell was unfortunately eliminated last week from the tournament and suffered an accident earlier this week that made him unable to compete. As such, the winner of tonight's main event will take his place in the Last Chance Contender Battle Royal event that will be taking place at our Coronation Supershow on February 6th. Please join me in welcoming the talented Hope-
TODD WILLIAMS
Last chance?
He doesn't apologize for interrupting, shaking his head as he looks at Luis.
TODD WILLIAMS
Second chance?! Let me make something very clear: my beautiful wife is going to take this company to brand new heights. She deserves to be in the Main Event because she is a Williams. Now I will admit at one point in her career she tried to start out in a shithole of a company. Nobody really paid attention to her because they only saw her as being Hope Dawson. Being a woman who was simply tied to CJ Osborne but now she has found me and I love being with an amazing white woman!
Todd chuckles.
TODD WILLIAMS
WHERE THE WHITE WOMEN AT?! Yes she is definitely right here and my woman is quite the sexy little lady, isn’t she? It’s funny how we even met. My daughter Brittany was in a relationship that was on and off with her son Jordan Parker-Kane for a few years. Who would have had any idea that Hope and I would eventually find our way to being together, and that we would have a son together and now are married. She carries the mantle of being Mrs. Williams which means she controls the entire world within her very hands.
Todd smiles but Hope can't help but slide her way over to where Luis is. She seductively grinds on him as she looks into his eyes.
HOPE WILLIAMS
Such a wonderful introduction by my handsome husband. Now I know tonight I am walking into a fatal four-way match and that it's a last chance for all of the late people to arrive into the company to earn a shot at that championship gold, but let me explain something.
Hope walks her fingers up the chest of Luis, fingers wrapping around his tie as she pulls him in closer to her. She whispers softly into his ear.
HOPE WILLIAMS
Now a girl like me is used to getting everything she could ever want. I made a small fortune off of the Proctor & Gamble inheritance that I received from my parents. I was used to getting everything and anything I want, and me being in this company will be no different. When I see something I like, I am willing to do whatever it takes to get it. It doesn't matter if I have to cheat, by hook or crook, by seduction, or even having to sleep my way. I will do whatever it takes to get to the top. Just look at me being with Todd, for example. He is a multi-millionaire and I happen to be his lady. That means I already can have whatever I want. Uprising will be no different.
TODD WILLIAMS
In order for Hope to pull ahead, she needs to overcome another female. You know what?! You can save Savannah for me…I got a place for her in my hotel room and we could…
Hope just shakes her head as she sighs in return.
HOPE WILLIAMS
I could also have my way with a French guy in Gaston, add in Matt Stone and we can make it a ménage à trois. That would seem really nice, right?! Actually I don’t give a damn if I have to go through Gaston. Judging from what I know about that ridiculous song from Beauty And The Beast, Gaston is supposed to be great at everything, and Matt Stone is a man who thinks he is God's gift to this Earth. A man who refuses to shut up and will do whatever is necessary to get to the top. On paper that all sounds absolutely amazing but I didn't train under one of the best technical wrestlers to get beat up by a trio of people who aren't on my level. Hell I just might be the worst wrestler in this match but none of that even matters!
TODD WILLIAMS
She doesn't have to be the best person to come out with a win. All she needs to do is be in the right place at the right time and I am here to personally make sure that happens. So bring whatever this company has to offer...
HOPE WILLIAMS
...and I will come on top.
LUIS MONTEZ
I... I'm sure you will. Come out on top, I mean.
He swallows hard, looking uncomfortable with the way she's almost climbing him like he's a tree. Hope takes a step back, tapping her finger to his lips before smoothing his tie.
HOPE WILLIAMS
Oh, I will. In whatever way you want it to mean. As long as I win, that’s all that matters. Now if you would excuse us… I have a match to prepare for.
Hope and her husband walk away, leaving a flushed and flustered Montez behind as the view fades out to another advertising break for the upcoming series TISH: THE STRONGEST WOMAN IN THE WORLD, coming soon on SplatTV.
_____________________________________________
LUIS MONTEZ
Good evening, Uprising fans! I hope you're having a great time tonight.
He pauses for the crowd pop and that smile grows as he looks over at Hope again.
LUIS MONTEZ
Tonight, I have the distinct pleasure to welcome someone who's making her debut alongside three other huge signings in tonight's Main Event. As we're all well aware, Forge Mitchell was unfortunately eliminated last week from the tournament and suffered an accident earlier this week that made him unable to compete. As such, the winner of tonight's main event will take his place in the Last Chance Contender Battle Royal event that will be taking place at our Coronation Supershow on February 6th. Please join me in welcoming the talented Hope-
TODD WILLIAMS
Last chance?
He doesn't apologize for interrupting, shaking his head as he looks at Luis.
TODD WILLIAMS
Second chance?! Let me make something very clear: my beautiful wife is going to take this company to brand new heights. She deserves to be in the Main Event because she is a Williams. Now I will admit at one point in her career she tried to start out in a shithole of a company. Nobody really paid attention to her because they only saw her as being Hope Dawson. Being a woman who was simply tied to CJ Osborne but now she has found me and I love being with an amazing white woman!
Todd chuckles.
TODD WILLIAMS
WHERE THE WHITE WOMEN AT?! Yes she is definitely right here and my woman is quite the sexy little lady, isn’t she? It’s funny how we even met. My daughter Brittany was in a relationship that was on and off with her son Jordan Parker-Kane for a few years. Who would have had any idea that Hope and I would eventually find our way to being together, and that we would have a son together and now are married. She carries the mantle of being Mrs. Williams which means she controls the entire world within her very hands.
Todd smiles but Hope can't help but slide her way over to where Luis is. She seductively grinds on him as she looks into his eyes.
HOPE WILLIAMS
Such a wonderful introduction by my handsome husband. Now I know tonight I am walking into a fatal four-way match and that it's a last chance for all of the late people to arrive into the company to earn a shot at that championship gold, but let me explain something.
Hope walks her fingers up the chest of Luis, fingers wrapping around his tie as she pulls him in closer to her. She whispers softly into his ear.
HOPE WILLIAMS
Now a girl like me is used to getting everything she could ever want. I made a small fortune off of the Proctor & Gamble inheritance that I received from my parents. I was used to getting everything and anything I want, and me being in this company will be no different. When I see something I like, I am willing to do whatever it takes to get it. It doesn't matter if I have to cheat, by hook or crook, by seduction, or even having to sleep my way. I will do whatever it takes to get to the top. Just look at me being with Todd, for example. He is a multi-millionaire and I happen to be his lady. That means I already can have whatever I want. Uprising will be no different.
TODD WILLIAMS
In order for Hope to pull ahead, she needs to overcome another female. You know what?! You can save Savannah for me…I got a place for her in my hotel room and we could…
Hope just shakes her head as she sighs in return.
HOPE WILLIAMS
I could also have my way with a French guy in Gaston, add in Matt Stone and we can make it a ménage à trois. That would seem really nice, right?! Actually I don’t give a damn if I have to go through Gaston. Judging from what I know about that ridiculous song from Beauty And The Beast, Gaston is supposed to be great at everything, and Matt Stone is a man who thinks he is God's gift to this Earth. A man who refuses to shut up and will do whatever is necessary to get to the top. On paper that all sounds absolutely amazing but I didn't train under one of the best technical wrestlers to get beat up by a trio of people who aren't on my level. Hell I just might be the worst wrestler in this match but none of that even matters!
TODD WILLIAMS
She doesn't have to be the best person to come out with a win. All she needs to do is be in the right place at the right time and I am here to personally make sure that happens. So bring whatever this company has to offer...
HOPE WILLIAMS
...and I will come on top.
LUIS MONTEZ
I... I'm sure you will. Come out on top, I mean.
He swallows hard, looking uncomfortable with the way she's almost climbing him like he's a tree. Hope takes a step back, tapping her finger to his lips before smoothing his tie.
HOPE WILLIAMS
Oh, I will. In whatever way you want it to mean. As long as I win, that’s all that matters. Now if you would excuse us… I have a match to prepare for.
Hope and her husband walk away, leaving a flushed and flustered Montez behind as the view fades out to another advertising break for the upcoming series TISH: THE STRONGEST WOMAN IN THE WORLD, coming soon on SplatTV.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- MERCHANDISING
The view opens up with a sea of people flocking to the tables carrying everything from shirts to posters to photos and other bits and pieces. On the edge of the screen you can see the Finnish Foulmouth DON TIRRI handing a shirt to a fan who towers over the rest of the crowd. After exchanging a few words with the guy and shaking his hand, Tirri turns around and sees the camera, motioning the cameraman to come closer.
DON TIRRI
Hey, just the thing I was looking for! I was planning on recording something something anyway but I got caught up in this madness. So you’re a godsend. This stuff is FLYING off the shelves here in the Silver State Ballroom!
Tirri turns to a fan who was trying to get his attention and with a wide smile plastered to his face posed for a selfie before signing the shirt the guy wanted to buy. You can see from the way he smooth-talks every potential customer that he has a lot of practice doing this.
DON TIRRI
Who woulda thought that after just one show, Uprising would be this popular? The Revolution is not just televised, it’s spreading like wildfire! I’ve been chatting with this lovely crowd for a hour or two now while giving them the merch they got their eyes on and believe it or not, a few of them have come even from overseas. A few Brits, a pair of Germans. Even a lovely French girl who insisted on having my number to go along with the signature on her... let's say 'almost private parts'...
The Helsinki Hellraiser winks to the camera and reaches down to pull a new stack of 8x10 pictures of him from under the counter and setting them on display. He signs a couple of them and hands them over to a pair of enthusiastic-looking young girls, patting one on the head as he does which almost causes the girl to squee in delight.
DON TIRRI
This really is the life of a professional wrestler you know. All those long hours spent in cars and hotel rooms and locker rooms… They all are worth this. The sheer delight of mingling with the fans. Knowing that once it’s bell time and you head through the curtain to the arena, you’ll see these same faces wearing your merchandise cheering from the top of their lungs, desperate to see you succeed. It’s a rush like no other. It’s a big reason why I’ve kept doing this job for so long despite all the hardships and setbacks.
Again having his attention diverted from the camera by a prospective customer, Tirri chats up a young kid, probably barely 18. The guy has a slightly surly look on his face, something that the old fox notices immediately, a smirk spreading to his lips. The kid buys a picture of Tirri and once he gets it in his hands takes out a marker of his own and writes CHEATER on big blocky letters on it, tears the picture in half and throws the halves in Tirri's face along with a generous amount of spit. Before anyone can react, the kid has disappeared into the crowd, leaving Tirri wiping his face in amusement. Chuckling to himself the big man collects the halves from the ground, picks up a bit of tape and tapes them together.
DON TIRRI
And sometimes you get people like that. People who are massive fans of someone you beat. People who want to make their displeasure shown in person. Well first off, getting a picture thrown back to your face, or even being spat at, is a lot less of a pain than getting stabbed or having a glassful of piss thrown on you. Been there, done that. Rather avoid it. And secondly... the sucker BOUGHT that picture. So... I’d call that a win. I can even RESELL this sucker!
And he proceeds to do just that, with a guy who looks very much like a collector of wrestling memorabilia parting with a wad of cash to get his hands on the picture. Slowly though, Tirri begins to withdraw into the background with the cameraman following. Just before it moves away from the table, LOGAN LEWIS can be seen standing off to the side in the shadows, unnoticed by the crowd with her face shaded by the hood of her oversized sweatshirt.
DON TIRRI
But it ain’t all fun and games. All this is just a side hustle for people like me. The main course happens in the ring. And believe me, I haven’t forgotten that I am going to be facing a real contender. On last Revolution I had a rookie against me, and even though Flix is a helluva competitor and will go far in this business... facing someone with actual experience in wrestling and in winning is a whole other ballgame. So Bloonie, I hope you don’t think I am going to go easy on you or take you for granted. For all the shits and giggles I elicit from my Twitter followers with my antics towards you... never for one second forget that behind this exterior is more than just funny guy. Behind this exterior is a battle-hardened veteran.
Tirri walks all the way to his locker room with the cameraman in tow, going in and sitting down on a bench.
DON TIRRI
Bloonie, you and I are gonna steal the show tonight. We’re going to commit grand larceny and steal the whole goddamn show from under the noses of great competitors like Luther Thunder, Kalinda Kriegsdottir, Matt Stone and Logan Lewis. After it’s all said and done and the show has gone off the air there will be just one match everyone will be talking about. It’ll be the encounter between Lady Bloon and Old School Cool. It will be when Tirri met Sammy. We’ve bantered back and forth. I’ve poked fun of you every chance I got and a few I took by force. But I know you’re the real deal. I know you’re more than a 'pretty little murder machine'. You are someone worthy of taking seriously. But this is a Tournament for the World Title. In the end, no matter how many great wrestlers there are… there can be ONLY ONE. And I will not let anyone prevent me from being that one. The first one to have their name etched on the Uprising World Title. The one who goes down in history as the one who started a legacy. That will be ME. Not you, Bloonie. Not anyone else. Me.
Standing up, Tirri cracks his knuckles and his neck.
DON TIRRI
See you on the other side. Buckle up, Bloonie... IT'S GO TIME.
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
"OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON TIRRI vs SAMANTHA TOLSON
Tirri dives in with some strikes right off the bat before Tolson waffles him with a hard forearm to the face that drives Tirri back into the corner. Tolson follows up with some stiff strikes before Tirri retaliates with a hip toss, driving an elbow into her face before rolling away. Back on their feet, the two collide again with a collar and elbow tie up before Tirri throws a huge uppercut that staggers Tolson. The two start brawling as the crowd goes insane. Tolson takes control with a knee to the face and a stiff short-armed clothesline – she drops a knee in Tirri's guts and the veteran bails out to the floor, grinning as he rolls his shoulders. Samantha beckons for Tirri to return, getting a huge pop from the crowd before the king of “Old School Cool” hops back up on the apron. Tolson gives him space to get back inside before they collide again. This time Tolson shoots Tirri into the ropes, catching him with a running knee lift on the rebound. Tirri goes down hard and Tolson dives on him, pummelling him with strikes from a Thesz press – REVERSAL INTO A HALF COBRA CLUTCH! Tirri rakes his forearm across Tolson’s face and she knees him in the head, breaking free and they’re back up. Tolson nails a textbook snap suplex but it doesn’t get her anywhere as she grabs him again only for Tirri to knee his way free. Tolson tries an up-and-over but Tirri anticipates it and dropkicks Samantha down, immediately dropping for a pin as he grinds the forearm in for a cheap choke.
ONE!
TW—
Samantha kicks out and they reset, locking up again. Tolson pulls Tirri into a side headlock – REVERSAL! Tolson almost gets dropped on her head with the Sack of Shit (fallaway slam) and Tirri stays on her, rolling Tolson over for a corner facewash on the bottom turnbuckle before pulling her into an old school STF! Tirri is pulling back on the crossface, yelling at Tolson to just tap out and of course she refuses, instead rolling over Tirri in an attempt to break the hold. The two fight over a chinlock and then Tolson manages to reverse into a sleeper – HOLY SHIT, SHE SUPLEXES HIM OUT OF NOWHERE! She holds on for another German but Tirri is having none of it and he fights her off with forearm strikes. She breaks the hold and goes for a lariat – DADDY DT REVERSAL (double arm DDT)! Tirri grabs a handful of her hair and pulls Tolson back up and she pulverizes him with forearms to the chest, driving him back against the ropes and then over with a lariat – he skins the cat! They jockey for a suplex on the apron before Tirri just brings Tolson over the top and DOWN TO THE FLOOR! ELBOW OFF THE APRON TO THE HEAD OF TOLSON!
The crowd is on their feet, going insane now as neither are stirring.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Tirri rolls over, on all fours now as he shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Tolson still isn’t moving. Tirri has managed to straighten up, looking a little wobbly as he finally staggers upright.
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
NINE!
Tirri runs and slides under the rope, a split second before the count reaches ten.
WINNER (VIA COUNT OUT): DON TIRRI
The view flashes to the updated brackets, showing what the semi-final round now looks like and the crowd pops to see the names of the five superstars who remain in the running to be crowned the very first Uprising Champion.
DON TIRRI
Hey, just the thing I was looking for! I was planning on recording something something anyway but I got caught up in this madness. So you’re a godsend. This stuff is FLYING off the shelves here in the Silver State Ballroom!
Tirri turns to a fan who was trying to get his attention and with a wide smile plastered to his face posed for a selfie before signing the shirt the guy wanted to buy. You can see from the way he smooth-talks every potential customer that he has a lot of practice doing this.
DON TIRRI
Who woulda thought that after just one show, Uprising would be this popular? The Revolution is not just televised, it’s spreading like wildfire! I’ve been chatting with this lovely crowd for a hour or two now while giving them the merch they got their eyes on and believe it or not, a few of them have come even from overseas. A few Brits, a pair of Germans. Even a lovely French girl who insisted on having my number to go along with the signature on her... let's say 'almost private parts'...
The Helsinki Hellraiser winks to the camera and reaches down to pull a new stack of 8x10 pictures of him from under the counter and setting them on display. He signs a couple of them and hands them over to a pair of enthusiastic-looking young girls, patting one on the head as he does which almost causes the girl to squee in delight.
DON TIRRI
This really is the life of a professional wrestler you know. All those long hours spent in cars and hotel rooms and locker rooms… They all are worth this. The sheer delight of mingling with the fans. Knowing that once it’s bell time and you head through the curtain to the arena, you’ll see these same faces wearing your merchandise cheering from the top of their lungs, desperate to see you succeed. It’s a rush like no other. It’s a big reason why I’ve kept doing this job for so long despite all the hardships and setbacks.
Again having his attention diverted from the camera by a prospective customer, Tirri chats up a young kid, probably barely 18. The guy has a slightly surly look on his face, something that the old fox notices immediately, a smirk spreading to his lips. The kid buys a picture of Tirri and once he gets it in his hands takes out a marker of his own and writes CHEATER on big blocky letters on it, tears the picture in half and throws the halves in Tirri's face along with a generous amount of spit. Before anyone can react, the kid has disappeared into the crowd, leaving Tirri wiping his face in amusement. Chuckling to himself the big man collects the halves from the ground, picks up a bit of tape and tapes them together.
DON TIRRI
And sometimes you get people like that. People who are massive fans of someone you beat. People who want to make their displeasure shown in person. Well first off, getting a picture thrown back to your face, or even being spat at, is a lot less of a pain than getting stabbed or having a glassful of piss thrown on you. Been there, done that. Rather avoid it. And secondly... the sucker BOUGHT that picture. So... I’d call that a win. I can even RESELL this sucker!
And he proceeds to do just that, with a guy who looks very much like a collector of wrestling memorabilia parting with a wad of cash to get his hands on the picture. Slowly though, Tirri begins to withdraw into the background with the cameraman following. Just before it moves away from the table, LOGAN LEWIS can be seen standing off to the side in the shadows, unnoticed by the crowd with her face shaded by the hood of her oversized sweatshirt.
DON TIRRI
But it ain’t all fun and games. All this is just a side hustle for people like me. The main course happens in the ring. And believe me, I haven’t forgotten that I am going to be facing a real contender. On last Revolution I had a rookie against me, and even though Flix is a helluva competitor and will go far in this business... facing someone with actual experience in wrestling and in winning is a whole other ballgame. So Bloonie, I hope you don’t think I am going to go easy on you or take you for granted. For all the shits and giggles I elicit from my Twitter followers with my antics towards you... never for one second forget that behind this exterior is more than just funny guy. Behind this exterior is a battle-hardened veteran.
Tirri walks all the way to his locker room with the cameraman in tow, going in and sitting down on a bench.
DON TIRRI
Bloonie, you and I are gonna steal the show tonight. We’re going to commit grand larceny and steal the whole goddamn show from under the noses of great competitors like Luther Thunder, Kalinda Kriegsdottir, Matt Stone and Logan Lewis. After it’s all said and done and the show has gone off the air there will be just one match everyone will be talking about. It’ll be the encounter between Lady Bloon and Old School Cool. It will be when Tirri met Sammy. We’ve bantered back and forth. I’ve poked fun of you every chance I got and a few I took by force. But I know you’re the real deal. I know you’re more than a 'pretty little murder machine'. You are someone worthy of taking seriously. But this is a Tournament for the World Title. In the end, no matter how many great wrestlers there are… there can be ONLY ONE. And I will not let anyone prevent me from being that one. The first one to have their name etched on the Uprising World Title. The one who goes down in history as the one who started a legacy. That will be ME. Not you, Bloonie. Not anyone else. Me.
Standing up, Tirri cracks his knuckles and his neck.
DON TIRRI
See you on the other side. Buckle up, Bloonie... IT'S GO TIME.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
ROUND 2 TOURNAMENT MATCH
"OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON TIRRI vs SAMANTHA TOLSON
Tirri dives in with some strikes right off the bat before Tolson waffles him with a hard forearm to the face that drives Tirri back into the corner. Tolson follows up with some stiff strikes before Tirri retaliates with a hip toss, driving an elbow into her face before rolling away. Back on their feet, the two collide again with a collar and elbow tie up before Tirri throws a huge uppercut that staggers Tolson. The two start brawling as the crowd goes insane. Tolson takes control with a knee to the face and a stiff short-armed clothesline – she drops a knee in Tirri's guts and the veteran bails out to the floor, grinning as he rolls his shoulders. Samantha beckons for Tirri to return, getting a huge pop from the crowd before the king of “Old School Cool” hops back up on the apron. Tolson gives him space to get back inside before they collide again. This time Tolson shoots Tirri into the ropes, catching him with a running knee lift on the rebound. Tirri goes down hard and Tolson dives on him, pummelling him with strikes from a Thesz press – REVERSAL INTO A HALF COBRA CLUTCH! Tirri rakes his forearm across Tolson’s face and she knees him in the head, breaking free and they’re back up. Tolson nails a textbook snap suplex but it doesn’t get her anywhere as she grabs him again only for Tirri to knee his way free. Tolson tries an up-and-over but Tirri anticipates it and dropkicks Samantha down, immediately dropping for a pin as he grinds the forearm in for a cheap choke.
ONE!
TW—
Samantha kicks out and they reset, locking up again. Tolson pulls Tirri into a side headlock – REVERSAL! Tolson almost gets dropped on her head with the Sack of Shit (fallaway slam) and Tirri stays on her, rolling Tolson over for a corner facewash on the bottom turnbuckle before pulling her into an old school STF! Tirri is pulling back on the crossface, yelling at Tolson to just tap out and of course she refuses, instead rolling over Tirri in an attempt to break the hold. The two fight over a chinlock and then Tolson manages to reverse into a sleeper – HOLY SHIT, SHE SUPLEXES HIM OUT OF NOWHERE! She holds on for another German but Tirri is having none of it and he fights her off with forearm strikes. She breaks the hold and goes for a lariat – DADDY DT REVERSAL (double arm DDT)! Tirri grabs a handful of her hair and pulls Tolson back up and she pulverizes him with forearms to the chest, driving him back against the ropes and then over with a lariat – he skins the cat! They jockey for a suplex on the apron before Tirri just brings Tolson over the top and DOWN TO THE FLOOR! ELBOW OFF THE APRON TO THE HEAD OF TOLSON!
The crowd is on their feet, going insane now as neither are stirring.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Tirri rolls over, on all fours now as he shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Tolson still isn’t moving. Tirri has managed to straighten up, looking a little wobbly as he finally staggers upright.
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
NINE!
Tirri runs and slides under the rope, a split second before the count reaches ten.
WINNER (VIA COUNT OUT): DON TIRRI
The view flashes to the updated brackets, showing what the semi-final round now looks like and the crowd pops to see the names of the five superstars who remain in the running to be crowned the very first Uprising Champion.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- BACKSTAGE
We're backstage again at the world renown Silver State Ballroom in Reno, Nevada where one of Uprising’s newest recruits is having a conversation with his manager.
ARIANNA MANNING
Look, I told you. We needed to get you a pair of trunks that fit and THAT is why you missed the first show and a chance for this tournament. Look, you got a chance to fix that tonight all you have to do is beat Savannah, that stepford-Williams wife and..
GASTON GILLET
Matt Stone! OMG THE CANADIAN SENSATION!
ARIANNA MANNING
Yeah! That guy, so just beat them and--
GASTON GILLET
Non, Matt Stone, he’s here!
She sighs.
ARIANNA MANNING
Yeah, I know that’s why he’s in the match because--
GASTON GILLET
No, ma chérie, I mean he’s here. He’s literally right there. The Canadian Sensation himself, look!
Arianna turns her head to his instructions and sees Matt approaching with a smirk on his face, and a bright, school-bus yellow "Shut Me Up" T-shirt potentially blinding anyone that gets too close.
MATT STONE
Well well well, who do we have here? If it isn’t the old commentary team hanging out backstage; shouldn’t you two be in the French booth exclaiming about how cats sort of look like skunks if they have paint on them?
GASTON GILLET
Hold on there, mon ami! Pepé Le Pew is a national treasure and..hey! Why are you in this match anyway; aren’t YOU supposed to be a star?
ARIANNA MANNING
Hey you’re a star, too! And we’re not commentating, Matthew. Gaston is one of your opponents tonight.
Matt looks at the Frenchman, then to the Southern belle, then back to the Frenchman again.
MATT STONE
Him? He wants to be in the tournament? How could he possibly hope to have a chance against the likes of a dragon or Don Tirri or...yeah, I can see it. Still, he’s not gonna get past me.
This puzzles the Frenchman but only for a moment.
GASTON GILLET
A-ha! Those are some well-rooted arguments, my friend, but I have never wrestled a dragon before and facing one is a challenge worthy of a red, white and blue hero such as myself. What do you think you have to offer for the tournament, though? Don Tirri already out-tweets and out-talks you by a distance.
ARIANNA MANNING
Oh God, please not another company where voracious tweeting is used to measure dick size. I thought that was a Canadian thing. HEY MATT, is that a Canadian thing?
MATT STONE
I can’t think of any Canadian that feels that strongly about tweeting, must be an American thing when they go to Canada and worry about such nonsense. I, personally, feel like what you do in the ring should matter more than any demonstration of poor time management. However, there’s always time to properly address a pretty lady, right Arianna?
As he speaks, he takes her right hand and kisses the back of it. Arianna looks a little embarrassed.
ARIANNA MANNING
Uh... yeah, hey! Gaston! He’s... uh... being weird!
GASTON GILLET
Looks to me like he is being more than just plain weird, that is hardly a gentleman’s way to behave or the least bit consensual, unhand her hand you Canadian scoundrel or I shall challenge you for a duel..after we’ve fought in the ring of course. One must abide by his previous engagements, after all. Being professional is important in modern times.
Matt all but ignores him as he’s still looking at Arianna.
MATT STONE
Speaking of engagements, are you single, mademoiselle?
ARIANNA MANNING
Uh... no, I’m kinda with the big guy towering about six inches over your head.
Clearing his throat, Gaston smirks.
GASTON GILLET
That would be me. Now as far as my previous statement goes: cease and desist fondling her digits or I am forced to reject my good manners and upbringing and be very rude and violent and not necessarily in that order!
Matt just shrugs his shoulders and releases his admittedly rather light grip of Arianna’s hand and returns to looking at the tall, misguided Frenchman.
MATT STONE
How about you spend less time pretending to care about her honour and more time working on your threats? You didn’t even mention that you could beat me over the head with your baguette.
ARIANNA MANNING
Don’t sleep on his baguette. I did once, and he got very upset.
MATT STONE
Gross. Next you’ll be telling me about the time it was too buttery. Rather than continue down this road of France’s next top chef, I’ll just leave you two to plan out your commiseration party after I advance into the last chance battle royal. On the plus side, you’ll get to swap stories with Dawn Hope and Savannah about how you almost had me.
GASTON GILLET
Why I oughta--
Before any actual damage gets done, his manager pushes Gaston back.
ARIANNA MANNING
Save it to the ring; don’t want to give the people spoilers, do we?
GASTON GILLET
Non, that is not the American way!
MATT STONE
Whatever you say, I’ve got to go find out about this supposed match with Logan Lewis, because apparently that’s a thing now.
Gaston looks like he's going to interject but Arianna shakes her head, allowing the Canadian to continue.
MATT STONE
Either way, tonight’s gonna give me good experience at putting loud people in their place.
With that The Canadian Sensation exits stage left leaving Gaston huffing and puffing with gentlemanly anger and Arianna calming him down as the show moves on.
LAST CHANCE RUMBLE SPOT (FOR LATE ARRIVALS)
SAVANNAH ANDREWS vs HOPE WILLIAMS vs MATT STONE vs GASTON GILLET
Before she can even make it to the ring, Hope Williams is jumped from behind by Savannah Andrews. When Todd Williams tries to intervene, Arianna Manning gets up in his face, reading him the riot act. When he tries to check her out, she slaps him so hard across the face that he goes down like a sack of potatoes. Inside the ring, Gaston Gillet and Matt Stone exchange a glance, and then both start moving towards Savannah as she slides in under the ropes. As Gillet reaches out to grab her, Savannah lashes out with a desperate throat thrust, sending the Frenchman reeling back. Savannah whirls on Matt, but the veteran dodges her assault attempt and catches her arm. He looks for an armbar but Savannah breaks free so Stone nails her in the back of the head with his forearm and then she’s on the canvas thanks to a headlock takedown. Stone lays into her with a good ol’ fashioned mudhole stomping that Gaston interrupts with a shoulder block. He sends Stone hard into the corner, where the Abominable Showman gets a leg up in time to boot Hope Williams in the face as she’s finally entering the ring. She falls off the apron and Stone follows her out to the floor, immediately getting intercepted by Todd.
Gillet reaches down, and drags Savannah to her feet before locking on a sleeper hold. Stone sucker punches Todd and grabs Hope by the hair, tossing her into the ring. She lands at Gaston’s feet and takes a moment to shake off the cobwebs while Stone heads up to the top turnbuckle and perches there, watching as Gaston cinches that sleeper hold in tighter. Savannah looks like she’s about to fade away and Hope is finally sitting up just as Matt Stone launches from the top rope, hands over his head in position for a flying double axehandle – it’s absolute chaos as Savannah elbows Gaston in the solar plexus, breaking the hold. Stone brings those clenched fists down on Gillet's shoulder, sending him reeling back and he trips over Hope Williams as all three of them crash to the canvas. Savannah rolls out of harm’s way and then gets pulled out of the ring by Todd Williams.
Matt kips up to his feet, smirking at his handiwork only to turn around and find himself face to face with Gillet. Pointing behind the big Frenchman, Matt manages to distract him with the oldest trick in the book and sends him packing to the ropes with an Irish whip before a baseball slide into Hope keeps her grounded for the moment. Stone turns around just as Savannah pulls herself up on the apron and he grins at her, offering his hand. Savannah moves to take it, and then lashes out with her foot as she gets up, doubling Matt over with a kick to the midsection – diving tornado DDT and Matt Stone is down for the moment. Savannah turns around and right into Gaston who pastes her back to the mat with a stalling suplex. Matt rolls out of the ring for a breather while Gillet looks at the spot where he'd last seen Savannah, only to find nobody there. The crowd erupts into cheers as Gillet turns around, only to be leveled with a springboard dropkick from Savannah. The crowd is on their feet, cheering wildly as Savannah whirls around, charging into the corner and sliding between the ropes to take out Matt with a baseball slide. She looks like she’s going to continue dominating until she turns around into a cheap shot from Todd Williams and then Hope launches herself off the top rope, landing on all three of them. Gaston is the only one standing and he waits in the middle of the ring, watching as Savannah and Hope are the first to their feet – it’s an absolute slugfest as the girls are pummelling each other, hair whipping as they keep the strikes fast and furious before Matt Stone comes off the ring steps with a crossbody, taking them both out. Gaston finally intervenes, grabbing Matt Stone by the head and tossing him back into the ring before helping Savannah up. He turns to assist Hope but she spears him into the apron for his troubles and then Savannah slams him down on the outside with a with a lightning-quick DDT. She turns around into a big boot to the face from Matt Stone and she’s out of it!
Hope seems to have vanished as well as Gaston pulls himself up, dragging Savannah with him and he slithers back into the ring, breaking up the referee’s count just as it reaches six. He falls on top of the prone body of Savannah and Ref Stef starts counting.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Matt kicks Gillet in the back of the head, breaking up the pinfall as Savannah scrambles for safety. Gillet drags himself up, charging at Matt just as he catches hold of Savannah and drags her off the ropes. Matt throws one final blow to Savannah, leaving her stunned before rolling to his feet. He turns, right into a grapple and massive powerbomb from Gillet. The crowd cheers the surprise move as Stone goes down hard. Savannah scrambles to the top rope, and launches himself, only to be caught midair by Gillet and taken down with a backbreaker! The crowd is on their feet, going insane. Gillet lifts Savannah up off of the mat and throws her at the ropes just as Stone staggers back up and charges at Gillet, spearing him through the ropes to the outside. Matt rolls to his feet, and dives back into the ring, colliding hard with Savannah and driving her back into the corner. Savannah goes for a hard chop but Matt blocks it and hits Savannah with the FALCON PAWWNCH! (straight right hand with brass knucks). She crumbles against the ropes and Matt adjusts the waistband of his tights (and stashing that foreign object) before he takes her down with the Stone Cutter (inverted back breaker). She rolls out to the floor, completely dazed before he can make the cover and he turns around to find Gaston Gillet coming at him full tilt. He dodges an attempt at a clothesline and catches Gillet, taking him over with the C-c-c-c-combo Breaker (codebreaker)! Gaston goes down hard and after checking to make sure nobody’s going to interfere, Stone drops for the cover. Hope Williams can barely stand on spaghetti legs as she pulls herself up on the apron, desperate to stay in the match but she’s too late.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): MATT STONE
ARIANNA MANNING
Look, I told you. We needed to get you a pair of trunks that fit and THAT is why you missed the first show and a chance for this tournament. Look, you got a chance to fix that tonight all you have to do is beat Savannah, that stepford-Williams wife and..
GASTON GILLET
Matt Stone! OMG THE CANADIAN SENSATION!
ARIANNA MANNING
Yeah! That guy, so just beat them and--
GASTON GILLET
Non, Matt Stone, he’s here!
She sighs.
ARIANNA MANNING
Yeah, I know that’s why he’s in the match because--
GASTON GILLET
No, ma chérie, I mean he’s here. He’s literally right there. The Canadian Sensation himself, look!
Arianna turns her head to his instructions and sees Matt approaching with a smirk on his face, and a bright, school-bus yellow "Shut Me Up" T-shirt potentially blinding anyone that gets too close.
MATT STONE
Well well well, who do we have here? If it isn’t the old commentary team hanging out backstage; shouldn’t you two be in the French booth exclaiming about how cats sort of look like skunks if they have paint on them?
GASTON GILLET
Hold on there, mon ami! Pepé Le Pew is a national treasure and..hey! Why are you in this match anyway; aren’t YOU supposed to be a star?
ARIANNA MANNING
Hey you’re a star, too! And we’re not commentating, Matthew. Gaston is one of your opponents tonight.
Matt looks at the Frenchman, then to the Southern belle, then back to the Frenchman again.
MATT STONE
Him? He wants to be in the tournament? How could he possibly hope to have a chance against the likes of a dragon or Don Tirri or...yeah, I can see it. Still, he’s not gonna get past me.
This puzzles the Frenchman but only for a moment.
GASTON GILLET
A-ha! Those are some well-rooted arguments, my friend, but I have never wrestled a dragon before and facing one is a challenge worthy of a red, white and blue hero such as myself. What do you think you have to offer for the tournament, though? Don Tirri already out-tweets and out-talks you by a distance.
ARIANNA MANNING
Oh God, please not another company where voracious tweeting is used to measure dick size. I thought that was a Canadian thing. HEY MATT, is that a Canadian thing?
MATT STONE
I can’t think of any Canadian that feels that strongly about tweeting, must be an American thing when they go to Canada and worry about such nonsense. I, personally, feel like what you do in the ring should matter more than any demonstration of poor time management. However, there’s always time to properly address a pretty lady, right Arianna?
As he speaks, he takes her right hand and kisses the back of it. Arianna looks a little embarrassed.
ARIANNA MANNING
Uh... yeah, hey! Gaston! He’s... uh... being weird!
GASTON GILLET
Looks to me like he is being more than just plain weird, that is hardly a gentleman’s way to behave or the least bit consensual, unhand her hand you Canadian scoundrel or I shall challenge you for a duel..after we’ve fought in the ring of course. One must abide by his previous engagements, after all. Being professional is important in modern times.
Matt all but ignores him as he’s still looking at Arianna.
MATT STONE
Speaking of engagements, are you single, mademoiselle?
ARIANNA MANNING
Uh... no, I’m kinda with the big guy towering about six inches over your head.
Clearing his throat, Gaston smirks.
GASTON GILLET
That would be me. Now as far as my previous statement goes: cease and desist fondling her digits or I am forced to reject my good manners and upbringing and be very rude and violent and not necessarily in that order!
Matt just shrugs his shoulders and releases his admittedly rather light grip of Arianna’s hand and returns to looking at the tall, misguided Frenchman.
MATT STONE
How about you spend less time pretending to care about her honour and more time working on your threats? You didn’t even mention that you could beat me over the head with your baguette.
ARIANNA MANNING
Don’t sleep on his baguette. I did once, and he got very upset.
MATT STONE
Gross. Next you’ll be telling me about the time it was too buttery. Rather than continue down this road of France’s next top chef, I’ll just leave you two to plan out your commiseration party after I advance into the last chance battle royal. On the plus side, you’ll get to swap stories with Dawn Hope and Savannah about how you almost had me.
GASTON GILLET
Why I oughta--
Before any actual damage gets done, his manager pushes Gaston back.
ARIANNA MANNING
Save it to the ring; don’t want to give the people spoilers, do we?
GASTON GILLET
Non, that is not the American way!
MATT STONE
Whatever you say, I’ve got to go find out about this supposed match with Logan Lewis, because apparently that’s a thing now.
Gaston looks like he's going to interject but Arianna shakes her head, allowing the Canadian to continue.
MATT STONE
Either way, tonight’s gonna give me good experience at putting loud people in their place.
With that The Canadian Sensation exits stage left leaving Gaston huffing and puffing with gentlemanly anger and Arianna calming him down as the show moves on.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
LAST CHANCE RUMBLE SPOT (FOR LATE ARRIVALS)
SAVANNAH ANDREWS vs HOPE WILLIAMS vs MATT STONE vs GASTON GILLET
Before she can even make it to the ring, Hope Williams is jumped from behind by Savannah Andrews. When Todd Williams tries to intervene, Arianna Manning gets up in his face, reading him the riot act. When he tries to check her out, she slaps him so hard across the face that he goes down like a sack of potatoes. Inside the ring, Gaston Gillet and Matt Stone exchange a glance, and then both start moving towards Savannah as she slides in under the ropes. As Gillet reaches out to grab her, Savannah lashes out with a desperate throat thrust, sending the Frenchman reeling back. Savannah whirls on Matt, but the veteran dodges her assault attempt and catches her arm. He looks for an armbar but Savannah breaks free so Stone nails her in the back of the head with his forearm and then she’s on the canvas thanks to a headlock takedown. Stone lays into her with a good ol’ fashioned mudhole stomping that Gaston interrupts with a shoulder block. He sends Stone hard into the corner, where the Abominable Showman gets a leg up in time to boot Hope Williams in the face as she’s finally entering the ring. She falls off the apron and Stone follows her out to the floor, immediately getting intercepted by Todd.
Gillet reaches down, and drags Savannah to her feet before locking on a sleeper hold. Stone sucker punches Todd and grabs Hope by the hair, tossing her into the ring. She lands at Gaston’s feet and takes a moment to shake off the cobwebs while Stone heads up to the top turnbuckle and perches there, watching as Gaston cinches that sleeper hold in tighter. Savannah looks like she’s about to fade away and Hope is finally sitting up just as Matt Stone launches from the top rope, hands over his head in position for a flying double axehandle – it’s absolute chaos as Savannah elbows Gaston in the solar plexus, breaking the hold. Stone brings those clenched fists down on Gillet's shoulder, sending him reeling back and he trips over Hope Williams as all three of them crash to the canvas. Savannah rolls out of harm’s way and then gets pulled out of the ring by Todd Williams.
Matt kips up to his feet, smirking at his handiwork only to turn around and find himself face to face with Gillet. Pointing behind the big Frenchman, Matt manages to distract him with the oldest trick in the book and sends him packing to the ropes with an Irish whip before a baseball slide into Hope keeps her grounded for the moment. Stone turns around just as Savannah pulls herself up on the apron and he grins at her, offering his hand. Savannah moves to take it, and then lashes out with her foot as she gets up, doubling Matt over with a kick to the midsection – diving tornado DDT and Matt Stone is down for the moment. Savannah turns around and right into Gaston who pastes her back to the mat with a stalling suplex. Matt rolls out of the ring for a breather while Gillet looks at the spot where he'd last seen Savannah, only to find nobody there. The crowd erupts into cheers as Gillet turns around, only to be leveled with a springboard dropkick from Savannah. The crowd is on their feet, cheering wildly as Savannah whirls around, charging into the corner and sliding between the ropes to take out Matt with a baseball slide. She looks like she’s going to continue dominating until she turns around into a cheap shot from Todd Williams and then Hope launches herself off the top rope, landing on all three of them. Gaston is the only one standing and he waits in the middle of the ring, watching as Savannah and Hope are the first to their feet – it’s an absolute slugfest as the girls are pummelling each other, hair whipping as they keep the strikes fast and furious before Matt Stone comes off the ring steps with a crossbody, taking them both out. Gaston finally intervenes, grabbing Matt Stone by the head and tossing him back into the ring before helping Savannah up. He turns to assist Hope but she spears him into the apron for his troubles and then Savannah slams him down on the outside with a with a lightning-quick DDT. She turns around into a big boot to the face from Matt Stone and she’s out of it!
Hope seems to have vanished as well as Gaston pulls himself up, dragging Savannah with him and he slithers back into the ring, breaking up the referee’s count just as it reaches six. He falls on top of the prone body of Savannah and Ref Stef starts counting.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Matt kicks Gillet in the back of the head, breaking up the pinfall as Savannah scrambles for safety. Gillet drags himself up, charging at Matt just as he catches hold of Savannah and drags her off the ropes. Matt throws one final blow to Savannah, leaving her stunned before rolling to his feet. He turns, right into a grapple and massive powerbomb from Gillet. The crowd cheers the surprise move as Stone goes down hard. Savannah scrambles to the top rope, and launches himself, only to be caught midair by Gillet and taken down with a backbreaker! The crowd is on their feet, going insane. Gillet lifts Savannah up off of the mat and throws her at the ropes just as Stone staggers back up and charges at Gillet, spearing him through the ropes to the outside. Matt rolls to his feet, and dives back into the ring, colliding hard with Savannah and driving her back into the corner. Savannah goes for a hard chop but Matt blocks it and hits Savannah with the FALCON PAWWNCH! (straight right hand with brass knucks). She crumbles against the ropes and Matt adjusts the waistband of his tights (and stashing that foreign object) before he takes her down with the Stone Cutter (inverted back breaker). She rolls out to the floor, completely dazed before he can make the cover and he turns around to find Gaston Gillet coming at him full tilt. He dodges an attempt at a clothesline and catches Gillet, taking him over with the C-c-c-c-combo Breaker (codebreaker)! Gaston goes down hard and after checking to make sure nobody’s going to interfere, Stone drops for the cover. Hope Williams can barely stand on spaghetti legs as she pulls herself up on the apron, desperate to stay in the match but she’s too late.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): MATT STONE
© UPRISING 2020
____________________________________________
QUICKIE RESULTS:
KENDRICK KROSS vs TWIZTID INSANE
"AMERICAN TRADITIONAL" AIDEN ROMERO vs "THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
LOGAN LEWIS vs SIOBAHN "THE SIDHE" MCLEOD
LUTHER THUNDER vs SAW
CARNIVORE vs KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
CHRIS MOSH vs MICHAEL MAROU
"OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON TIRRI vs SAMANTHA TOLSON
SAVANNAH ANDREWS vs HOPE WILLIAMS vs MATT STONE vs GASTON GILLET
KENDRICK KROSS vs TWIZTID INSANE
"AMERICAN TRADITIONAL" AIDEN ROMERO vs "THE FIREBIRD" IGNIS
LOGAN LEWIS vs SIOBAHN "THE SIDHE" MCLEOD
LUTHER THUNDER vs SAW
CARNIVORE vs KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR
CHRIS MOSH vs MICHAEL MAROU
"OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON TIRRI vs SAMANTHA TOLSON
SAVANNAH ANDREWS vs HOPE WILLIAMS vs MATT STONE vs GASTON GILLET