Post by Admin on Jun 22, 2021 18:34:21 GMT -5
LIVE FROM THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM at the historic ELDORADO CASINO in RENO, NV JUNE 26, 2021 |
OPEN ON:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- OUTDOOR STAGE
The stage for the "Triggs Tribute Concert" is set, with various instruments strewn across it. The stage crew hustles about to add the final touches as the crowd chants "One More Match”" for Triggs. A loud booming voice takes over the sound system.
UNKNOWN
Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for: the Triggs Tribute Concert! Please take this moment to watch the video package we have put together of Triggs' historic moments, both inside the ring and out, before the show starts.
The voice bellows throughout the arena as it’s revealed to be the agent of Hayden Triggs, MR. HODSON. The first performer gets on the stage and says this song is called "Best Friends". He dedicates the song to Triggs as the video package starts, beginning with Triggs' debut on UPRISING and the attack that only served to endear him to the fans further. Clips are shown from the beginning of Triggs’ musical career and then back to several prolific team and trios matches all the way up to SOLSTICE. The devastating shot that hospitalized Triggs is shown at the close of the video. The faint beep of a heart monitor can be heard as the camera cuts to several different people in the crowd that are crying. Finally, the camera cuts to ENIGMA, who is on stage with the performers as the video now depicts a flat line. The somber feeling in the arena now is surreal and even the monster of a man is moved as he swipes his thumbs under his eyes.
MR. HODSON
Let us take a moment to remember the life of Triggs.
As the audience and crew begin to compose themselves, to prepare for the rest of the evening, a growing roar becomes apparent in the crowd. HOLY SHIT! HAYDEN TRIGGS barrels over the barricade and makes a beeline for Enigma. He embraces Triggs and looks as if he has seen a ghost. Without hesitation, Triggs lifts Enigma in a brain buster position and then proceeds to drop him on his knee. The crowd shifts from sheer excitement to absolute disgust and practically boos Triggs out of the building as he and Hodson flee the scene.
CUT TO:
INT. SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- CONTINUOUS
The view shifts to the empty ballroom, the fully-assembled UPRISING ring sitting in the middle of that ring of seating. Slowly, the view lifts from ringside and up into the rafters to find "OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON TIRRI seated there in solitude in the place he retreats to when he needs to re-center himself. He is staring down at the ring, most likely going through the events of SOLSTICE in his mind. For the first time in a while, he is actually alone in here.
DON TIRRI
Go on. Laugh. Another missed title challenge for Ol’ Don. Let’s count them shall we? Lost to Luther, that's One. Lost to Lash, that's TWO. Lost the Last of Us over at Level Up. That's THREE. Lost to Maggie over at Level Up. That's FOUR. And now, lost at the TERRORDOME. That's FIVE.
As he speaks he lifts his fingers one by one to match with the count, not even bothering to look at the camera.
DON TIRRI
Go ahead. Get it all out of your system. "Don Chokes". "He can’t get it done". "He’s too old"... "he’s over the hill". Go on. I’ll wait.
He sits silently, holding the fingers up for what seems like an eternity before throwing a sideways glance at the camera.
DON TIRRI
You done? Good. Now. I'm not gonna make excuses. Legion made me tap out. I accomplished my first step, which was ending Luther's reign. But I didn't make it to the end. I'm not done though.
Tirri turns to face the camera and leans back against the railing. His expression is a stoic mask, but the venom in his voice betrays his feelings.
DON TIRRI
Legion. Nathan. Mr. Grey. Nate. Whatever you wanna call yourself. I’m not finished with you. I’m willing to bet that later tonight you’re gonna prance in here, fashionably late and tell EVERYONE how fucking great you are. How you deserve that championship. How you managed to beat the odds without any help, despite your little cult being destroyed and dismantled by the Sicilian Goon Squad. But fact is Legion, you are nothing more than an opportunist. You had NO place being in the Terrordome to begin with. Why? Let's rewind the tapes. Who did you beat to get into the dome? Me. How did you beat me? By taking advantage of the fact that a certain pot-addicted cardboard cutout got her feelings hurt and decided to fuck with my business. You didn't earn your spot in the dome Legion. You got lucky.
The Finn punches the catwalk he sits on for emphasis, a loud *klang* echoing in the empty arena.
DON TIRRI
Now let’s look at your performance in the Dome itself. You got your ass handed to you by JC who kicked you from pillar to post and back. AFTER clearing the entire lower half of the dome. You were getting your shit kicked in so hard I actually felt bad for you for a second. Fast forward till my pod opened. You were nowhere to be seen. I dispatched Luther, which for the record I don’t consider to have settled our score since it wasn’t 1-on-1, and then began to work on JC. The old bastard held on better than anyone I’ve ever fought, I admit. Going to the top of that pod was a miscalculation from my part, but it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t beat ME, Legion. You took advantage of an opportunity. Yes. I tapped out. I tapped out because I realized JC wasn’t going to break me out of it and there was no point in getting injured needlessly as I wasn’t gonna break it myself. I tapped out to fight another day. And you, Legion. You didn’t deserve that win. You got lucky again. You both fell and by sheer coincidence, the title just happened to land on you.
Reaching into his pocket, Tirri fishes out a cigarette and lights it up, the embers casting a sinister shadow on his face in the dark upper reaches of the room.
DON TIRRI
Bottom line, Legion. You don’t deserve shit. You got into the Dome with luck. You beat me with luck and you won the belt with luck. I’m going to flat out say it now: One on one, Nate? YOU. CAN’T. BEAT. ME. There. So for the foreseeable future, Nate? I am going to hound you. I am going to take all the verbal jabs. All the physical jabs. All the jokes, all the disses I can. And I am going to aim them squarely at you until you man up and put that belt on the line... one-on-one. And if I by some fucking miracle you do beat me? Well I guess there is no point for me to stick around afterwards. This is my ultimatum. This is where I make my stand. THIS IS THE HILL I AM WILLING TO DIE ON. I am sick and tired of being fucked around. Legion, that belt is mine and I’m fucking putting my career in line for it if that is what it takes.
The only sense of emotion you get from him is a slightly raised voice, otherwise he stares forward and puffs his cigarette.
DON TIRRI
Next up: Knox. Get in line. I don’t want to fight you over this. But if you think you can sneak in a blow at Nattie here, I am going to finish the job the freak couldn’t. Wait for your fucking turn.
Now he doesn’t seem angry. Just… tired. Frustrated. Exhausted.
DON TIRRI
Lastly: Crystal Hilton. Tonight I am going to finish you for good. After tonight? I don’t want to hear a single fucking peep out of you. I’ve already beat you twice. After I do it the third time There will be no questions left unanswered. No doubts, no whats, no ifs, no buts. After tonight everyone will know just how much of a waste of space you are. I got no interest in entertaining your delusions anymore. After tonight, Crystal? I’m done with you. For good. So fuck off and go suck off some promoter somewhere else for some pushes. Reno isn’t for you. Follow your little friend, get out while you can. Reno is my yard and I’m about to YEET a hoe.
He stands up and finishes his cigarette in a few quick puffs before flicking it at the camera. Sparks fly as it hits the lens.
DON TIRRI
See you in the ring, hoebag.
And with that the view fades out to REVOLUTION's opening video package.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
THE AVENGER vs GRETA NYX
As soon as the bell rings, Avenger goes to offer a handshake. The fans cheer for the display by Reno’s resident hero. Greta looks out the outstretched hand, then looks out over the crowd….and punches Avenger right in the mouth! The fans boo loudly, some even throwing trash toward the ring as Greta backs Avenger up into the ropes with a series of forearm shivers. She then goes and whips him into the ropes, taking Avenger down with a hard clothesline as he returns! She drops down for a quick pin!
ONE!
NO! HEROES DONT DIE THAT EASILY!! Greta gets up, pulling Avenger with her...but he breaks free from her grasp! He begins laying his own stiff right hands into Greta’s dastardly face. He snatches her in a side headlock, runs to the corner and...SLICED BREAD NUMBER TWO!! But the hero isn’t done!! He scales the ropes, perching heroically on the top turnbuckle...THE AVENGER FLIES OFF WITH A BIG CROSSBODY!! BUT GRETA ROLLS THROUGH IT! SHE HAS VENGY ROLLED UP IN ANOTHER PIN!! SHE'S GRABBING THE TIGHTS NOW!!! HOW DASTARDLY!!
ONE!
TWO!
NO! NO, EVIL-DOER!! NOT TONIGHT! THE AVENGER KICKS OUT!! He is quick to his feet and is met by Greta! They begin brawling, exchanging right hands and chops and left hands and kicks and Greta tries for a headbutt, but Avenger dodges! He snatches her by the throat and...CHOKESLAM!! THE HEROIC CHOKESLAM OF JUSTICE!! AVENGER DIVES FOR THE PIN, HOOKING BOTH LEGS!!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): THE AVENGER
CUT TO:
EXT. ELDORADO CASINO -- PARKING LOT
The words RECORDED EARLIER THIS WEEK flash across the screen as a camera fades in to the outside of the historic Eldorado Casino in Reno, Nevada. A small group of about 5 random people are seen protesting outside of the venue. "PC" PERCY CARTER is leading the pack in chants. He turns to the camera, stretching his arms out triumphantly.
"PC" CARTER
You see this, UPRISING? This is an army! We are a strong, collected unit and we will not be silenced! I came here to Uprising to give a voice to all those who are tired of being persecuted and attacked for how they look and who they love. You want to paint me as a villain? Why? Because my voice is loud? Because my voice is proud? No, I'm a hero. I'm a damn savior and you should all listen to me and listen good because this sick business is dying and rotting without me to lead the way. But I know you see us and mock us.
Percy walks over to the fat, adrogynous fan that was seen on SOLSTICE and pats them on the back.
"PC" CARTER
Like my friend here. They made a homemade shirt and bought a ticket and what happened? They were bashed and made fun of on commentary. Is that what you think is entertainment? Reinforcing toxic gender norms and triggering this poor soul's body issues? Shame on you. Shame.
Percy consoles the fan as they start sobbing.
"PC" CARTER
They call this "The Biggest Little City in the World" but it's going to be "The Biggest CANCELLED City in the World" when I'm done with it, I swear to you. And Episode 13 is coming up and I'm nowhere to be found on the card. Even the management makes fun of me. Real professional. Is that how you run a company? I'm a wrestler. I don't care if you think I'm a joke, I'm still an athlete and I'm not just gonna sit back and be ignored! And furthermore…
As Percy continues to rant, one of the protesters checks his phone. His face lights up and walks over to Percy.
SJW
Hey, Percy. The Uprising Twitter just tweeted. You got a match!
"PC" CARTER
-what? Let me see that?
Percy takes the phone and sees that he has been booked in a one on one match against Supreme Machine. He quickly goes to his roster page and sees the size of his opponent (6'9, 350 lbs). The blood runs from his face and his eyes dart back and forth as his people cheer for him.
VERY SMALL CROWD
PC! PC! PC!
"PC" CARTER
Shut up!! Shut up!! Everyone shut the hell up!
The crowd quickly stops cheering as an awkward silence falls over them. PC is breathing heavily but he soon clears his throat and looks smugly at the camera.
"PC" CARTER
So you think I'm stupid, right? You think I don't know what this is? You're setting me up. You're leading me into this like a lamb to the slaughter. You think I'm gonna go into that match, the bells going to ring and Supreme Machine is gonna kill me. Well I'm not gonna be a martyr for you. Supreme Machine is a giant, but on Episode 13, my new name is gonna be Percy "Just a Little Bit Smarter" Carter because I'm gonna outwit that big dumb asshole.
FAT ANDROGYNOUS FAN
Umm isn't dumb a little ableist?
"PC" CARTER
Fuck off! Everyone get out of my face! I have a match to train for!
The crowd quickly disperses as Percy angrily walks away from the venue.
The office door is open wide, showing the broad shoulders and distinctively tattooed arms of THE MONSTER MACHINE ENIGMA from behind. He stands next to another man, one that's a few inches shorter but is still quite athletic. A keen observer might recognize him as the boyfriend of Siobahn McLeod, a British import named JUDE MITCHELL. Right now, they are the sole representatives of The Church of the 7th Circle in the building. On the General Manager's desk lays the UPRISING Championship, as shiny as pristine as it was the day it was first revealed to the audience. Luther Thunder obviously took very good care of it. Heaving a sigh, the General Manager JACKSON looks up from checking his phone for the thousandth time.
JACKSON
...and as of right now, I've still not heard a peep out of your fearless leader. He hasn't had a proper medical evaluation. He hasn't responded to any of my messages on any medium.
ENIGMA
He will be here.
Jude fidgets, trying to become invisible lest Jackson's wrath fall on him next.
JACKSON
It's bad enough we had to shell out for extra programming time tonight so we could broadcast that tribute concert for your buddy Triggs before we went live.
Enigma snarls at the mention of the name, fairly seething and it's pretty clear that the GM has no idea what happened during that extra half an hour of run time.
JACKSON
...you see there's even a GoFundMe page for him now? It's almost up to a hundred thousand dollars. We've had morons protesting outside the venue all week over the shit that went down at SOLSTICE. So if your buddy thinks this little ghost stunt is gonna fly-
Enigma takes a step towards the desk, leaning forward to rest his palms on it. His eyes lock on Jackson's and he takes the full brunt of the man's hostility and frustration.
ENIGMA
Did you not hear me before? I said, "he will be here".
Jackson shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
JACKSON
I'll believe it when I see him with my own eyes. If he fails to appear for the slot I've saved for him after the Silver State match, you can tell him that he's out of a job. Let him crawl back to The Developer for a job in Indy. You two can join his ass on the unemployment line.
Enigma picks up the championship gingerly, being careful not to touch any of the shiny metal surface.
ENIGMA
He will be here. The new ruler of UPRISING will take his rightful place on the throne. We will make sure he gets this... when we meet with him in a few moments.
Jackson looks like he wants to argue and rip the belt back from the big man's hands but his cell phone chooses that moment to go off. He looks at the display, frowning.
JACKSON
Shit. I've gotta get this.
Enigma turns and stalks out into the hallway, leaving Jude no choice but to follow. A moment later the door slams behind them.
JUDE MITCHELL
We're gonna be fucked if he doesn't show.
The look Enigma gives him is strange, almost crafty before he repeats a variation on his previous party line.
ENIGMA
He will be here. We will not lose our jobs. Come, friend. We have much to prepare.
As the two disappear from view, the camera shifts to reveal Samantha Tolson, standing near the doorway to the ATLAS CHAMBER with a strange look on her face. She's clearly overheard that exchange and it's obvious that the wheels are turning before she shakes her head, dismissing whatever the last of the Church members are up to. Shoulders squared, she moves towards the office door and knocks before poking her head around the corner.
SAMANTHA TOLSON
Jax? Are you free? I just need a minute of your time... I promise.
_____________________________________________
"PC" CARTER
You see this, UPRISING? This is an army! We are a strong, collected unit and we will not be silenced! I came here to Uprising to give a voice to all those who are tired of being persecuted and attacked for how they look and who they love. You want to paint me as a villain? Why? Because my voice is loud? Because my voice is proud? No, I'm a hero. I'm a damn savior and you should all listen to me and listen good because this sick business is dying and rotting without me to lead the way. But I know you see us and mock us.
Percy walks over to the fat, adrogynous fan that was seen on SOLSTICE and pats them on the back.
"PC" CARTER
Like my friend here. They made a homemade shirt and bought a ticket and what happened? They were bashed and made fun of on commentary. Is that what you think is entertainment? Reinforcing toxic gender norms and triggering this poor soul's body issues? Shame on you. Shame.
Percy consoles the fan as they start sobbing.
"PC" CARTER
They call this "The Biggest Little City in the World" but it's going to be "The Biggest CANCELLED City in the World" when I'm done with it, I swear to you. And Episode 13 is coming up and I'm nowhere to be found on the card. Even the management makes fun of me. Real professional. Is that how you run a company? I'm a wrestler. I don't care if you think I'm a joke, I'm still an athlete and I'm not just gonna sit back and be ignored! And furthermore…
As Percy continues to rant, one of the protesters checks his phone. His face lights up and walks over to Percy.
SJW
Hey, Percy. The Uprising Twitter just tweeted. You got a match!
"PC" CARTER
-what? Let me see that?
Percy takes the phone and sees that he has been booked in a one on one match against Supreme Machine. He quickly goes to his roster page and sees the size of his opponent (6'9, 350 lbs). The blood runs from his face and his eyes dart back and forth as his people cheer for him.
VERY SMALL CROWD
PC! PC! PC!
"PC" CARTER
Shut up!! Shut up!! Everyone shut the hell up!
The crowd quickly stops cheering as an awkward silence falls over them. PC is breathing heavily but he soon clears his throat and looks smugly at the camera.
"PC" CARTER
So you think I'm stupid, right? You think I don't know what this is? You're setting me up. You're leading me into this like a lamb to the slaughter. You think I'm gonna go into that match, the bells going to ring and Supreme Machine is gonna kill me. Well I'm not gonna be a martyr for you. Supreme Machine is a giant, but on Episode 13, my new name is gonna be Percy "Just a Little Bit Smarter" Carter because I'm gonna outwit that big dumb asshole.
FAT ANDROGYNOUS FAN
Umm isn't dumb a little ableist?
"PC" CARTER
Fuck off! Everyone get out of my face! I have a match to train for!
The crowd quickly disperses as Percy angrily walks away from the venue.
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- GM'S OFFICE
The office door is open wide, showing the broad shoulders and distinctively tattooed arms of THE MONSTER MACHINE ENIGMA from behind. He stands next to another man, one that's a few inches shorter but is still quite athletic. A keen observer might recognize him as the boyfriend of Siobahn McLeod, a British import named JUDE MITCHELL. Right now, they are the sole representatives of The Church of the 7th Circle in the building. On the General Manager's desk lays the UPRISING Championship, as shiny as pristine as it was the day it was first revealed to the audience. Luther Thunder obviously took very good care of it. Heaving a sigh, the General Manager JACKSON looks up from checking his phone for the thousandth time.
JACKSON
...and as of right now, I've still not heard a peep out of your fearless leader. He hasn't had a proper medical evaluation. He hasn't responded to any of my messages on any medium.
ENIGMA
He will be here.
Jude fidgets, trying to become invisible lest Jackson's wrath fall on him next.
JACKSON
It's bad enough we had to shell out for extra programming time tonight so we could broadcast that tribute concert for your buddy Triggs before we went live.
Enigma snarls at the mention of the name, fairly seething and it's pretty clear that the GM has no idea what happened during that extra half an hour of run time.
JACKSON
...you see there's even a GoFundMe page for him now? It's almost up to a hundred thousand dollars. We've had morons protesting outside the venue all week over the shit that went down at SOLSTICE. So if your buddy thinks this little ghost stunt is gonna fly-
Enigma takes a step towards the desk, leaning forward to rest his palms on it. His eyes lock on Jackson's and he takes the full brunt of the man's hostility and frustration.
ENIGMA
Did you not hear me before? I said, "he will be here".
Jackson shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
JACKSON
I'll believe it when I see him with my own eyes. If he fails to appear for the slot I've saved for him after the Silver State match, you can tell him that he's out of a job. Let him crawl back to The Developer for a job in Indy. You two can join his ass on the unemployment line.
Enigma picks up the championship gingerly, being careful not to touch any of the shiny metal surface.
ENIGMA
He will be here. The new ruler of UPRISING will take his rightful place on the throne. We will make sure he gets this... when we meet with him in a few moments.
Jackson looks like he wants to argue and rip the belt back from the big man's hands but his cell phone chooses that moment to go off. He looks at the display, frowning.
JACKSON
Shit. I've gotta get this.
Enigma turns and stalks out into the hallway, leaving Jude no choice but to follow. A moment later the door slams behind them.
JUDE MITCHELL
We're gonna be fucked if he doesn't show.
The look Enigma gives him is strange, almost crafty before he repeats a variation on his previous party line.
ENIGMA
He will be here. We will not lose our jobs. Come, friend. We have much to prepare.
As the two disappear from view, the camera shifts to reveal Samantha Tolson, standing near the doorway to the ATLAS CHAMBER with a strange look on her face. She's clearly overheard that exchange and it's obvious that the wheels are turning before she shakes her head, dismissing whatever the last of the Church members are up to. Shoulders squared, she moves towards the office door and knocks before poking her head around the corner.
SAMANTHA TOLSON
Jax? Are you free? I just need a minute of your time... I promise.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
STATIC
The view opens up to show a darkened room lit only by dancing embers of a fireplace in the corner. The flickering shadows cast by the reddish light create an eerie mood, which is further enhanced as the large frame of SUPREME MACHINE moves into view. The beast is hunched over on the floor, the wounds from his battle at SOLSTICE still visible on his skin. With his head held down, he speaks up, his gruff voice echoing from the bare walls of the room.
SUPREME MACHINE
How can you kill that which cannot die? The Raven tried to answer that question at SOLSTICE. He threw everything he had at us and STILL… only managed to put us down momentarily.
A pause, a laboring and harsh rasp of breath.
SUPREME MACHINE
Wounds heal. Scars fade. Bones mend. He tried to kill us and failed. He brought up what should have remained buried. A price for that has already been paid in blood. We went after Raven because we saw his potential. He gave us what we have yearned for... for so very long: A CHALLENGE.
His voice rises up for a passing moment before coming back down as he starts to rock back and forth on the ground, raising his head just enough so he can stare at the camera from behind the greasy veil of black hair that cascades down to his face.
SUPREME MACHINE
For now our thirst for his blood has been slaked. He proved a worthy adversary, something we have lacked for such a long time. But we are not done with UPRISING yet. There are those who would seek to challenge us. First among them Mac Bane. He will be the next one to feel our wrath should our paths cross with his. For us… the search for a battle worthy of fighting is a never ending one. But before that… To make sure we are back in full form… to shake off whatever lingering damage the Raven inflicted… we will make a new sacrifice on the altar of violence…
He stands up, stretching to his full 6'9" length and lets out a menacing chuckle.
SUPREME MACHINE
Percy Carter. His name is barely worth mentioning. He shouted how he wanted to fight… we obliged. His gripes, his issues. They are irrelevant. He is but a lamb sent to the slaughterhouse. In the grand scale of things… he is but a footnote. Just like he has always been. But a blip in the radar that nobody pays attention to… so he shouts loud. So he postures and quotes buzzwords. All that to justify his pitiful existence. We will relieve him of his pain. We will give him a meaning. A purpose. To act as our statement of intent. To act as an example. To be the first on our path to Total Anarchy.
Another chuckle emanates from the monster's lips as he tenses his muscles for a second.
SUPREME MACHINE
The sad truth is, in this world there are two types. Predators… and prey. Only when two predators meet, is there a worthy battle. Otherwise… the predator has its way with its hapless victims… just the way it should be.
He walks right up to the camera, lifting it to be eye-level with him.
SUPREME MACHINE
At Revolution 13… A whiny voice shall be silenced for good…
The view fades to black, his bottomless, emotionless eyes being the last image seen on the screen before the view cuts back to ringside.
CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
SUPREME MACHINE vs "PC" PERCY CARTER
The match begins with Percy Carter grabbing a microphone and waving for the audience to quiet itself.
"PC" CARTER
LISTEN! Supreme Machine! And see, unlike others in the back and the shitlords in this audience, I address you by your PREFERRED name.
SuMa simply stares Percy down as the audience is quiet except for a few stray groans.
"PC" CARTER
I just want you to know, that as the face of the REAL revolution here in Reno, you don’t have to be ashamed of yours! The ableism in this company is disgusting, forcing you to cover up your so-called "disfigurement" and putting you in matches with that psychotic guy in the face pa--
Percy is cut off by SuMa grabbing him by the throat, and lifting him up for a chokeslam..BUT Percy slips free! He drops down and begins firing kicks into SuMa’s knee but the Machine just seems to eat them, unaffected! He snatches Percy by the throat with both hands now, flinging him into a corner and charging in with a big splash that may have just flattened UPRISING’s social justice warrior! SuMa pulls him up slowly, before hauling back a fist and firing a shot into Percy’s face that drops him back down. SuMa then takes a more elementary approach to his offense, stepping on Percy’s neck and choking him. Percy flails helplessly as Neil Rana begins his five count. SuMa shoves Rana away, who gets up and immediately calls for the bell! SuMa just got himself disqualified!!
WINNER (VIA DISQUALIFICATION): "PC" PERCY CARTER
Supreme Machine does remove his foot, leaning down and gripping poor Percy by the face in a Von Erich claw before lifting him up and slamming him back down to the mat! He goes to continue his attack but URSULA VON ROSSBACH comes charging out from backstage. Supreme Machine sees her and immediately exits the ring to collide with her as the bottom of the ramp. She begins brawling with the Supreme Machine and the two seem evenly matched as security charges down to break it up! This is nuts and the fans are over the moon at the new arrival as the view cuts elsewhere in the casino.
SUPREME MACHINE
How can you kill that which cannot die? The Raven tried to answer that question at SOLSTICE. He threw everything he had at us and STILL… only managed to put us down momentarily.
A pause, a laboring and harsh rasp of breath.
SUPREME MACHINE
Wounds heal. Scars fade. Bones mend. He tried to kill us and failed. He brought up what should have remained buried. A price for that has already been paid in blood. We went after Raven because we saw his potential. He gave us what we have yearned for... for so very long: A CHALLENGE.
His voice rises up for a passing moment before coming back down as he starts to rock back and forth on the ground, raising his head just enough so he can stare at the camera from behind the greasy veil of black hair that cascades down to his face.
SUPREME MACHINE
For now our thirst for his blood has been slaked. He proved a worthy adversary, something we have lacked for such a long time. But we are not done with UPRISING yet. There are those who would seek to challenge us. First among them Mac Bane. He will be the next one to feel our wrath should our paths cross with his. For us… the search for a battle worthy of fighting is a never ending one. But before that… To make sure we are back in full form… to shake off whatever lingering damage the Raven inflicted… we will make a new sacrifice on the altar of violence…
He stands up, stretching to his full 6'9" length and lets out a menacing chuckle.
SUPREME MACHINE
Percy Carter. His name is barely worth mentioning. He shouted how he wanted to fight… we obliged. His gripes, his issues. They are irrelevant. He is but a lamb sent to the slaughterhouse. In the grand scale of things… he is but a footnote. Just like he has always been. But a blip in the radar that nobody pays attention to… so he shouts loud. So he postures and quotes buzzwords. All that to justify his pitiful existence. We will relieve him of his pain. We will give him a meaning. A purpose. To act as our statement of intent. To act as an example. To be the first on our path to Total Anarchy.
Another chuckle emanates from the monster's lips as he tenses his muscles for a second.
SUPREME MACHINE
The sad truth is, in this world there are two types. Predators… and prey. Only when two predators meet, is there a worthy battle. Otherwise… the predator has its way with its hapless victims… just the way it should be.
He walks right up to the camera, lifting it to be eye-level with him.
SUPREME MACHINE
At Revolution 13… A whiny voice shall be silenced for good…
The view fades to black, his bottomless, emotionless eyes being the last image seen on the screen before the view cuts back to ringside.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
SUPREME MACHINE vs "PC" PERCY CARTER
The match begins with Percy Carter grabbing a microphone and waving for the audience to quiet itself.
"PC" CARTER
LISTEN! Supreme Machine! And see, unlike others in the back and the shitlords in this audience, I address you by your PREFERRED name.
SuMa simply stares Percy down as the audience is quiet except for a few stray groans.
"PC" CARTER
I just want you to know, that as the face of the REAL revolution here in Reno, you don’t have to be ashamed of yours! The ableism in this company is disgusting, forcing you to cover up your so-called "disfigurement" and putting you in matches with that psychotic guy in the face pa--
Percy is cut off by SuMa grabbing him by the throat, and lifting him up for a chokeslam..BUT Percy slips free! He drops down and begins firing kicks into SuMa’s knee but the Machine just seems to eat them, unaffected! He snatches Percy by the throat with both hands now, flinging him into a corner and charging in with a big splash that may have just flattened UPRISING’s social justice warrior! SuMa pulls him up slowly, before hauling back a fist and firing a shot into Percy’s face that drops him back down. SuMa then takes a more elementary approach to his offense, stepping on Percy’s neck and choking him. Percy flails helplessly as Neil Rana begins his five count. SuMa shoves Rana away, who gets up and immediately calls for the bell! SuMa just got himself disqualified!!
WINNER (VIA DISQUALIFICATION): "PC" PERCY CARTER
Supreme Machine does remove his foot, leaning down and gripping poor Percy by the face in a Von Erich claw before lifting him up and slamming him back down to the mat! He goes to continue his attack but URSULA VON ROSSBACH comes charging out from backstage. Supreme Machine sees her and immediately exits the ring to collide with her as the bottom of the ramp. She begins brawling with the Supreme Machine and the two seem evenly matched as security charges down to break it up! This is nuts and the fans are over the moon at the new arrival as the view cuts elsewhere in the casino.
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BAR
"DA DAMSEL IN DAT DRESS" AZURINE VEBBINS silent sips at the Silver State Ballroom Bar. She sports a light turquoise Lunarable Sleeveless Racerback A-Line Summer Dress. Upon immediate inspection, it’s not entirely clear why "Da Adorkable Angel" chooses to address her chanters here. She’s spoon feeding herself a chocolate pudding cup as a bartender lays down two Mai Tai mocktails.
AZURINE VEBBINS
Evenin’, folk! I'm ecstatic you're streamin' UPRISIN' Revolution Episode Dir-teen: Infinite Midlife Crisis. Azurine Vebbins here wishin’ you a happy National Chocolate Puddin’ Day, National Coconut Day, Global Smurfs Day, and Tropical Cocktail Day. Ordered a couple Mai Tai mocktails, dough, since A. I have a Silver State Championship Number One Contenders Cha-Cha versus Gaston Gillet upcomin’. 2: My rival’s right. He should receive some-din’ to swallow his sorrows after it’s announced I get to waltz wid da winner of Samanda Tolson and Griffin Hawkins. Our performance may appear like a chinlock resthold compared to deyr dance, but don’t you dare sleep on eider exhibition. More dan any-din’, tonight’s tango commences a wild weekend wid several scores to settle. Gillet may be vested by namesake. However, after bein’ dropped on my dance floor, Gaston’s gonna learn, my intense interest to face eider Tolson or Hawkins one-on-one incapacitates his illogical intentions.
Ms. Vebbins double blinks at the camera, smiles, and then silently sips one of the mocktails as the streaming signal switches elsewhere in the casino.
AZURINE VEBBINS
Evenin’, folk! I'm ecstatic you're streamin' UPRISIN' Revolution Episode Dir-teen: Infinite Midlife Crisis. Azurine Vebbins here wishin’ you a happy National Chocolate Puddin’ Day, National Coconut Day, Global Smurfs Day, and Tropical Cocktail Day. Ordered a couple Mai Tai mocktails, dough, since A. I have a Silver State Championship Number One Contenders Cha-Cha versus Gaston Gillet upcomin’. 2: My rival’s right. He should receive some-din’ to swallow his sorrows after it’s announced I get to waltz wid da winner of Samanda Tolson and Griffin Hawkins. Our performance may appear like a chinlock resthold compared to deyr dance, but don’t you dare sleep on eider exhibition. More dan any-din’, tonight’s tango commences a wild weekend wid several scores to settle. Gillet may be vested by namesake. However, after bein’ dropped on my dance floor, Gaston’s gonna learn, my intense interest to face eider Tolson or Hawkins one-on-one incapacitates his illogical intentions.
Ms. Vebbins double blinks at the camera, smiles, and then silently sips one of the mocktails as the streaming signal switches elsewhere in the casino.
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- CPP HQ
_____________________________________________We find ourselves in the office room of the COWGIRLS FROM HELL where the aforementioned women are. Meghan sits in the centre behind a large oak desk with her sister to her right and daughter to her left standing guard. Meghan’s lip curls into the family sneer as she takes a deep breath and exhales with her words but not before looking at the Revo1 Tag Title over her left shoulder.
MEGHAN STRADER
Are you afraid of the truth? No, really. Are you? Maybe everyone should be. The truth is simple. So simple in fact that even a monkey could understand it. This place people call home to Revolution, being a part of The Uprising… is ours.
Meghan lifts her right hand and makes a circle motion with her index finger signaling to her blood beside her.
MEGHAN STRADER
Anywhere the Cowgirls go, we dominate. Whether it’s together as a unit or just one of us, we don’t let defeat happen very often at all. Outside a literal few, we just don’t get beat. It starts with being prepared and it ends with our hands raised more often than it isn’t. Yet for some reason, there are those who still doubt us. Doubt our ability. Doubt what made this family great. And they doubt our ability to win when it matters most. The time for doubting is over.
Meghan leans back, lifting and setting her legs on the desk, while crossing her arms. Tamika and Cara looking on into the camera, mischievous looks upon their faces.
MEGHAN STRADER
Two weeks ago I surprised a number of people going into Terrordome 3.0, The UPRISING edition. I didn’t win but it was the right step in the right direction. Just like how our eyes are set on those Trios belts, I have my eyes firmly set on the number one prize here in Reno. LEGION, two weeks ago you took what a few members believe to be their championship. They are wrong in believing such a lie. When the Cowgirls From Hell are crowned the Trios Champions, I am putting all my energy on taking away that UPRISING Championship. It would be best to remember one very simple thing about us Straders….
The three women look into the camera with that cold glare sneer their family is known for. Meghan leans forward, Revo1 Tag title shining in the camera’s lights.
MEGHAN STRADER
God forgives.
TAMIKA/CARA STRADER
We don’t.
Tamika with her Revo1 Tag title fastened around her waist escorts the camera crew out with a wave of her right hand.
MEGHAN STRADER
Are you afraid of the truth? No, really. Are you? Maybe everyone should be. The truth is simple. So simple in fact that even a monkey could understand it. This place people call home to Revolution, being a part of The Uprising… is ours.
Meghan lifts her right hand and makes a circle motion with her index finger signaling to her blood beside her.
MEGHAN STRADER
Anywhere the Cowgirls go, we dominate. Whether it’s together as a unit or just one of us, we don’t let defeat happen very often at all. Outside a literal few, we just don’t get beat. It starts with being prepared and it ends with our hands raised more often than it isn’t. Yet for some reason, there are those who still doubt us. Doubt our ability. Doubt what made this family great. And they doubt our ability to win when it matters most. The time for doubting is over.
Meghan leans back, lifting and setting her legs on the desk, while crossing her arms. Tamika and Cara looking on into the camera, mischievous looks upon their faces.
MEGHAN STRADER
Two weeks ago I surprised a number of people going into Terrordome 3.0, The UPRISING edition. I didn’t win but it was the right step in the right direction. Just like how our eyes are set on those Trios belts, I have my eyes firmly set on the number one prize here in Reno. LEGION, two weeks ago you took what a few members believe to be their championship. They are wrong in believing such a lie. When the Cowgirls From Hell are crowned the Trios Champions, I am putting all my energy on taking away that UPRISING Championship. It would be best to remember one very simple thing about us Straders….
The three women look into the camera with that cold glare sneer their family is known for. Meghan leans forward, Revo1 Tag title shining in the camera’s lights.
MEGHAN STRADER
God forgives.
TAMIKA/CARA STRADER
We don’t.
Tamika with her Revo1 Tag title fastened around her waist escorts the camera crew out with a wave of her right hand.
CUT TO:
STATIC
MATT KNOX
SOLSTICE was a long night, the longest of our lives here in the Revolution...for some, that night still hasn’t ended. And because of that, I'm afraid I have to end You.
The camera comes to life to find a battered and bruised Matthew Knox standing somewhere in a dark corner of the Eldorado Casino. He is dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, obviously with no intent to compete or even socialize outside of these scathing words.
MATT KNOX
People might know this, but they don’t...JC is more than a respected colleague to me. He’s my friend. Some of you might not know this, but you will. He was a suit this time last year. Ran Carnage Wrestling for a year and a half and his last act was a talent initiative. I applied...or rather Bert did. And despite all my demons, and my years away? He took a chance on me, and gave me all I have today.
Matthew’s face twitches as he does his best tor restrain his emotions.
MATT KNOX
My new successes, reconnecting with my kids, training one of the hottest new talents in our sport? None of this happens without him making that call. So as much as I would like to kick him in the face most days..I cannot abide others doing him the kind of harm you did, Nathan.
Now, his tone drips with venom and his face twists in a snarl.
MATT KNOX
You petulant, ugly little wart on the ass of this company and this business. Snaking your way into the chamber and riding that same wave of luck to be the one the title fell on when you decided you couldn’t beat JC like a man. . .but hey, I’m not surprised. I’m not even that mad. I’m just disappointed…
A chuckle as he leans in, half whispering to the camera.
MATT KNOX
What would father think, Nathan?
He shakes his head, taking in a sharp and steadying breath.
MATT KNOX
I want my title. And that's what that is, on your shoulder. My title. That you and your fruity little cult screwed me out of. And what's more, I want to hurt you. I want to put you in the goddamn morgue below the hospital you put my friend in. So consider this a….declaration of war, Nathan. It’s on sight now. Twenty-four/seven. And if you’ve paid attention, if you could get past yourself? You should be afraid...from Scott Dunn to the Supreme Machine? When I say I'm going to Raze and Ruin? I mean it..
He walks to the camera, and snatches it, taking a moment to stare into the lens silently. His breath comes unsteady, shivering from the adrenaline and the pain still racking his body from his war with SuMa.
MATT KNOX
And Tirri...you, or anyone who gets between me and him? Who tries to stop this from happening? I’ll bury you in the same hole..
And with that, he drops the camera and the shot cuts to harsh static before dropping back to ringside for the next match.
TRIOS CHAMPIONSHIP ROUND 2
COWGIRLS FROM HELL vs HEROES FOR HIRE!
Liam, Takashi and speak among themselves in one corner while Tamika, Meghan, and Cara speak in the other, it is determining who will start the match. Takashi nods and crawls through the ropes, Liam is starting the match for HEROES FOR HIRE while Meghan is starting for the other side. Meghan walks towards Liam, who quickly tags in Takashi, who in turn leaps from the top turnbuckle, landing on Meghan. Liam walks out of the ring to stand on the apron in his corner. On the mat, both Takashi and Meghan are rolling around, throwing punches back and forth like a high school fight. Meghan is on top of Takashi, connecting with massive right hands to the temple of Takashi, who's firing right hands right back into the side of Meghan’s head. Meanwhile, Tamika has gotten off the apron and is nearing Liam; having seen his adversary, Liam comes down to meet her face to face. Liam throws a right hand, Tamika ducks the haymaker to connect with a Japanese armdrag to the concrete outside.
Back in the ring, Takashi is running off the ropes into a clothesline from Meghan, taking her down to the canvas. Meghan goes for the pin, but Takashi rolls over too quickly. Meghan Irish whips Takashi into the corner where Takashi runs up the turnbuckles leaping from the top with a moonsault onto Meghan, taking her to the mat. Hooking a leg, Takashi goes for a pin.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Meghan kicks out with authority battling back and she gets the best of the next exchange, sending Takashi to the mat with a scoop slam. Meghan tags in her daughter and she bounces off the ropes with a springboard moonsault!
ONE!
TWO!
TH—NO!
Tamika is just a bit too late as Liam stomps on the back of Cara's head to break up the count. The ref's distraction, in getting Liam back in his corner, allows Cara and Tamika to double team Takashi in their corner as Meghan cheers them on. Liam is quick about getting out of the ring, leaving Cara and Tamika to get caught out by Neil Rana who admonishes them on the double team. They ignore him, continuing the assault until the count of five. Cara reaches out and tags in Tamika and after another double team beatdown, she delivers a series of knife-edge chops until his chest is red and he's slumped in the corner. Pulling him out, Tamika forces Takashi to rebound off of the ropes, but he reverses the whip with one of his own – BACK BODY DROP! Rather than continue the assault, he looks towards the corner where Liam's slapping the turnbuckle, getting the crowd into the match and Takashi begins to crawl towards the Heroes corner. Reaching out, he makes the tag just as Tamika tags in Meghan.
Cara and Tamika hop down off the apron, sliding over to the other corner. In stereo, they reach up, pulling Takashi and Miles down as the four of them brawl, leaving their leader in the ring to deal with Miles. Meghan dodges a telegraphed kick – BLACKENED OUT OF NOWHERE! Meghan stands up, placing her foot on his chest for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): COWGIRLS FROM HELL
MATT KNOX
SOLSTICE was a long night, the longest of our lives here in the Revolution...for some, that night still hasn’t ended. And because of that, I'm afraid I have to end You.
The camera comes to life to find a battered and bruised Matthew Knox standing somewhere in a dark corner of the Eldorado Casino. He is dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, obviously with no intent to compete or even socialize outside of these scathing words.
MATT KNOX
People might know this, but they don’t...JC is more than a respected colleague to me. He’s my friend. Some of you might not know this, but you will. He was a suit this time last year. Ran Carnage Wrestling for a year and a half and his last act was a talent initiative. I applied...or rather Bert did. And despite all my demons, and my years away? He took a chance on me, and gave me all I have today.
Matthew’s face twitches as he does his best tor restrain his emotions.
MATT KNOX
My new successes, reconnecting with my kids, training one of the hottest new talents in our sport? None of this happens without him making that call. So as much as I would like to kick him in the face most days..I cannot abide others doing him the kind of harm you did, Nathan.
Now, his tone drips with venom and his face twists in a snarl.
MATT KNOX
You petulant, ugly little wart on the ass of this company and this business. Snaking your way into the chamber and riding that same wave of luck to be the one the title fell on when you decided you couldn’t beat JC like a man. . .but hey, I’m not surprised. I’m not even that mad. I’m just disappointed…
A chuckle as he leans in, half whispering to the camera.
MATT KNOX
What would father think, Nathan?
He shakes his head, taking in a sharp and steadying breath.
MATT KNOX
I want my title. And that's what that is, on your shoulder. My title. That you and your fruity little cult screwed me out of. And what's more, I want to hurt you. I want to put you in the goddamn morgue below the hospital you put my friend in. So consider this a….declaration of war, Nathan. It’s on sight now. Twenty-four/seven. And if you’ve paid attention, if you could get past yourself? You should be afraid...from Scott Dunn to the Supreme Machine? When I say I'm going to Raze and Ruin? I mean it..
He walks to the camera, and snatches it, taking a moment to stare into the lens silently. His breath comes unsteady, shivering from the adrenaline and the pain still racking his body from his war with SuMa.
MATT KNOX
And Tirri...you, or anyone who gets between me and him? Who tries to stop this from happening? I’ll bury you in the same hole..
And with that, he drops the camera and the shot cuts to harsh static before dropping back to ringside for the next match.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
TRIOS CHAMPIONSHIP ROUND 2
COWGIRLS FROM HELL vs HEROES FOR HIRE!
Liam, Takashi and speak among themselves in one corner while Tamika, Meghan, and Cara speak in the other, it is determining who will start the match. Takashi nods and crawls through the ropes, Liam is starting the match for HEROES FOR HIRE while Meghan is starting for the other side. Meghan walks towards Liam, who quickly tags in Takashi, who in turn leaps from the top turnbuckle, landing on Meghan. Liam walks out of the ring to stand on the apron in his corner. On the mat, both Takashi and Meghan are rolling around, throwing punches back and forth like a high school fight. Meghan is on top of Takashi, connecting with massive right hands to the temple of Takashi, who's firing right hands right back into the side of Meghan’s head. Meanwhile, Tamika has gotten off the apron and is nearing Liam; having seen his adversary, Liam comes down to meet her face to face. Liam throws a right hand, Tamika ducks the haymaker to connect with a Japanese armdrag to the concrete outside.
Back in the ring, Takashi is running off the ropes into a clothesline from Meghan, taking her down to the canvas. Meghan goes for the pin, but Takashi rolls over too quickly. Meghan Irish whips Takashi into the corner where Takashi runs up the turnbuckles leaping from the top with a moonsault onto Meghan, taking her to the mat. Hooking a leg, Takashi goes for a pin.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Meghan kicks out with authority battling back and she gets the best of the next exchange, sending Takashi to the mat with a scoop slam. Meghan tags in her daughter and she bounces off the ropes with a springboard moonsault!
ONE!
TWO!
TH—NO!
Tamika is just a bit too late as Liam stomps on the back of Cara's head to break up the count. The ref's distraction, in getting Liam back in his corner, allows Cara and Tamika to double team Takashi in their corner as Meghan cheers them on. Liam is quick about getting out of the ring, leaving Cara and Tamika to get caught out by Neil Rana who admonishes them on the double team. They ignore him, continuing the assault until the count of five. Cara reaches out and tags in Tamika and after another double team beatdown, she delivers a series of knife-edge chops until his chest is red and he's slumped in the corner. Pulling him out, Tamika forces Takashi to rebound off of the ropes, but he reverses the whip with one of his own – BACK BODY DROP! Rather than continue the assault, he looks towards the corner where Liam's slapping the turnbuckle, getting the crowd into the match and Takashi begins to crawl towards the Heroes corner. Reaching out, he makes the tag just as Tamika tags in Meghan.
Cara and Tamika hop down off the apron, sliding over to the other corner. In stereo, they reach up, pulling Takashi and Miles down as the four of them brawl, leaving their leader in the ring to deal with Miles. Meghan dodges a telegraphed kick – BLACKENED OUT OF NOWHERE! Meghan stands up, placing her foot on his chest for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): COWGIRLS FROM HELL
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
We come backstage to see the face of newcomer to Uprising, Clarissa Claire. The Second Generation Luchastara, as she calls herself, is standing with a smug look on her face, and as the fans see her on the big screen they can't help but to boo her. Clarissa begins to laugh, soaking it all in as the camera fades back a bit more to show an unknown woman standing next to her.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
So this is Reno, is it?
As the other women attempts to say something, Clarissa stops her and looks down at her hand which is holding a microphone. She points to the mic and says 'you hold that up and ask the questions'. The young woman, still un-named at this point nods her head and lifts her hand up, holding the microphone to Clarissa's lips.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
Some of you may know me, okay who am I kidding, ALL of you know exactly who I am. I don't need to give you a history lesson, google Clarissa Claire if you've been living under a rock for some reason. What you guys don't know is why I'm here. After a few months away from the spotlight, why here? And why now? Well, the answers will become clear in due time, but what I can say is that things are going to change around here. I know there are some big stars, and some people who have made a name for themselves here, but I didn't come to Reno to test my luck or to play second fiddle. I've done that before. This time? It's about me, what I want, and doing absolutely ANYTHING to get it.
The fiery Latina clears her throat and looks over at the woman next to her.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
For the foreseeable future, I will only be interviewed by this lovely little one right here, my own cousin. You don't even need to call her by her name, just call her 'Clarissa's interviewer'.
The fans boo this, and the young woman next to Clarissa looks a bit disheartened, but as Clarissa pats the top of her head, she looks up and forces a smile onto her face.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
So, who do I have in my sights? Again, a wonderful question, it's almost as if I came up with it all on my own! Anyway, that again...will be answered in my own time. What I can promise you is that at the next show? I will make my official in-ring debut. Until then? Follow my social media @wrestlingscc because I don't think ANY of you deserve to see me at ringside tonight.
With that, the young woman walks away to a chorus of boos from the fans, watching it all unfold via the big screen.
CLARISSA'S INTERVIEWER
I guess that's all for tonight, guys! Enjoy the rest of the show.
We hear a voice over that speaks with the utmost conviction, oozing sincerity.
VOICEOVER
The following has been paid and funded by the HOPE FOR HAYDEN FOUNDATION.
Then we are treated to the picturesque outside view of a beautiful Sicilian villa. A camera rides through the gates and up the steps to the open door; we see some exquisite interior from priceless paintings and historical statues, every last detail of the décor is exceptionally classical, right down to the soft operatic background music. It's classy, timeless but soft enough that you just cannot quite put your finger on what selection it is.
Then we stop in what could have been a living room except it was roughly the size of 3-5 normal living rooms and around the table sit three men: RICHARD RHODES III, NICO PAZZINI and the stoic VINCENZO RIINA, all dressed in purest, finest cotton suits and slacks. Ricky is wearing a white shirt that proclaims "GET WELL HAYDEN!" in bold black letters, Nico wrapping a bandana around his usual mess of blonde hair, sporting the same message while Vincenzo Riina, the silent bonecrusher of the team, sits there with a shirt similar to Ricky’s. Of course, Rhodes is the one who speaks up.
RICKY RHODES
Buongiorno and welcome, so glad you could join us for this special message. We, as a team, as a whole believe that truth of the situation should be brought to light and people need to be cleared of the malicious, hateful rumors going around about what took place at SOLSTICE. Where the Church Of The 7th Circle faced, TRINACRIA in a first round bout of Trios Championship contenders.. What happened in the match was not a surprise to anyone, not anyone with any sense at least. TRINACRIA came, saw and conquered. Veni Vidi Vici as it goes. However, why we are all here is not about wins and losses because at the end of the day what happened to the promising young talent known to most as Hayden Triggs to us, his peers and friends he was just Hayden.
He seems somber, while Pazzini lounges about in a chair, his jacket and shirt completely unbuttoned and showing off his bare, tattooed upper body. Riina, being his usual stoic self, watches in silence. Rhodes seems like the only emotional one as he gathers himself and goes on.
RICKY RHODES
A lot people have cast blame on what happened to poor Hayden upon us, claiming that myself, Mr. Pazzini and Mr. Riina are the ones responsible for the tragedy that befell on poor Hayden Triggs, but if you want to be honest about it, if you want to be completely objective and truthful about it what happened to Hayden Triggs was Not. Our. fault....but Legion’s. Had Hayden not fallen for Legion’s recruitment and become part of the Church he would not have been in that faithful and what happened, would probably not have happened to him. If you want to look for those responsible, the culprits on this heinous turn of events why not look no further than ENIGMA and SIOBAHN MCLEOD. They were there as well. Did they protect Hayden? Did they get him out of harm’s way? No, because all they cared about was winning the match. They put winning a wrestling match before the health, safety and well-being of their partner. Hayden Triggs was one of them, they were supposed to be united, yet these two did nothing..and of course they choose to cast the blame at us because the only thing wrong that we did was win that match. We worked as the well-oiled machine, the unit that three of us are and together we triumphed over these religious fanatics, this conglomerate of clandestine cloak & dagger gathering they mockingly called a Church. We prevailed over this cult that now, because of our actions, because of TRINACRIA has been thwarted and all but disintegrated. We have done a public service, my friends. We have saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives being ruined. It just pains me...
He gulps, looking at the camera and holding back tears.
RICKY RHODES
It just pains me that we could not save Hayden from his fate, such a shame.
We see Rhodes biting down on the single gloved hand knuckle as if holding himself from crying, he gathers himself up again and goes on.
RICKY RHODES
If anything, our actions should not be considered an on all-out assault or an attack but as an act of mercy for a very lost, troubled young man. Hayden Triggs is right now at the height of his fame and it is because of what happened at SOLSTICE, he is the number one topic everywhere, he is in people’s hearts and minds around the world. We are responsible for freeing that poor lost soul they organized that absolute travesty of a charity concert for. If he does ever wake up from his slumber, he better thank TRINACRIA for all he received and for all we did for him. Of course, this is not a scenario where a pretty princess rides in on her white horse and smooches the sweet prince awake but assuming he wakes up and doesn’t get the kiss of death, Hayden Triggs should consider himself a lucky man. He should think about his future long and hard and what truly would be best for him going forward...and for his family and loved ones.
We see Rhodes placing his palms on the expensive table, leaning forward.
RICKY RHODES
As far as the rest of the roster of UPRISING goes, look what happened at SOLSTICE. Look what happens to those who oppose TRINACRIA!
We see a hint of a gleeful, sadistic smirk and then as if snapping back to the situation at hand, Rhodes somberly fixes his shirt collar.
RICKY RHODES
Oh..and remember the name of Hayden Triggs, the man who paid the highest price for other people’s mistakes. Tonight, we are banned from REVOLUTION 13 but are going to dedicate our inevitable win in the second round on July 10...and our run as the future Trios Champions to Hayden Triggs. Get well soon, bud and know that whatever happens you will always be with us. In spirit.
He pats his chest where at least most people would have a heart.
We see the camera pan through the trio once again with Ricky showing a very serious face, Nico with a shit-eating smirk and the ever-stoic Vincenzo expressionless as we fade to another advertising break.
_____________________________________________
CLARISSA CLAIRE
So this is Reno, is it?
As the other women attempts to say something, Clarissa stops her and looks down at her hand which is holding a microphone. She points to the mic and says 'you hold that up and ask the questions'. The young woman, still un-named at this point nods her head and lifts her hand up, holding the microphone to Clarissa's lips.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
Some of you may know me, okay who am I kidding, ALL of you know exactly who I am. I don't need to give you a history lesson, google Clarissa Claire if you've been living under a rock for some reason. What you guys don't know is why I'm here. After a few months away from the spotlight, why here? And why now? Well, the answers will become clear in due time, but what I can say is that things are going to change around here. I know there are some big stars, and some people who have made a name for themselves here, but I didn't come to Reno to test my luck or to play second fiddle. I've done that before. This time? It's about me, what I want, and doing absolutely ANYTHING to get it.
The fiery Latina clears her throat and looks over at the woman next to her.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
For the foreseeable future, I will only be interviewed by this lovely little one right here, my own cousin. You don't even need to call her by her name, just call her 'Clarissa's interviewer'.
The fans boo this, and the young woman next to Clarissa looks a bit disheartened, but as Clarissa pats the top of her head, she looks up and forces a smile onto her face.
CLARISSA CLAIRE
So, who do I have in my sights? Again, a wonderful question, it's almost as if I came up with it all on my own! Anyway, that again...will be answered in my own time. What I can promise you is that at the next show? I will make my official in-ring debut. Until then? Follow my social media @wrestlingscc because I don't think ANY of you deserve to see me at ringside tonight.
With that, the young woman walks away to a chorus of boos from the fans, watching it all unfold via the big screen.
CLARISSA'S INTERVIEWER
I guess that's all for tonight, guys! Enjoy the rest of the show.
CUT TO:
STATIC
We hear a voice over that speaks with the utmost conviction, oozing sincerity.
VOICEOVER
The following has been paid and funded by the HOPE FOR HAYDEN FOUNDATION.
Then we are treated to the picturesque outside view of a beautiful Sicilian villa. A camera rides through the gates and up the steps to the open door; we see some exquisite interior from priceless paintings and historical statues, every last detail of the décor is exceptionally classical, right down to the soft operatic background music. It's classy, timeless but soft enough that you just cannot quite put your finger on what selection it is.
Then we stop in what could have been a living room except it was roughly the size of 3-5 normal living rooms and around the table sit three men: RICHARD RHODES III, NICO PAZZINI and the stoic VINCENZO RIINA, all dressed in purest, finest cotton suits and slacks. Ricky is wearing a white shirt that proclaims "GET WELL HAYDEN!" in bold black letters, Nico wrapping a bandana around his usual mess of blonde hair, sporting the same message while Vincenzo Riina, the silent bonecrusher of the team, sits there with a shirt similar to Ricky’s. Of course, Rhodes is the one who speaks up.
RICKY RHODES
Buongiorno and welcome, so glad you could join us for this special message. We, as a team, as a whole believe that truth of the situation should be brought to light and people need to be cleared of the malicious, hateful rumors going around about what took place at SOLSTICE. Where the Church Of The 7th Circle faced, TRINACRIA in a first round bout of Trios Championship contenders.. What happened in the match was not a surprise to anyone, not anyone with any sense at least. TRINACRIA came, saw and conquered. Veni Vidi Vici as it goes. However, why we are all here is not about wins and losses because at the end of the day what happened to the promising young talent known to most as Hayden Triggs to us, his peers and friends he was just Hayden.
He seems somber, while Pazzini lounges about in a chair, his jacket and shirt completely unbuttoned and showing off his bare, tattooed upper body. Riina, being his usual stoic self, watches in silence. Rhodes seems like the only emotional one as he gathers himself and goes on.
RICKY RHODES
A lot people have cast blame on what happened to poor Hayden upon us, claiming that myself, Mr. Pazzini and Mr. Riina are the ones responsible for the tragedy that befell on poor Hayden Triggs, but if you want to be honest about it, if you want to be completely objective and truthful about it what happened to Hayden Triggs was Not. Our. fault....but Legion’s. Had Hayden not fallen for Legion’s recruitment and become part of the Church he would not have been in that faithful and what happened, would probably not have happened to him. If you want to look for those responsible, the culprits on this heinous turn of events why not look no further than ENIGMA and SIOBAHN MCLEOD. They were there as well. Did they protect Hayden? Did they get him out of harm’s way? No, because all they cared about was winning the match. They put winning a wrestling match before the health, safety and well-being of their partner. Hayden Triggs was one of them, they were supposed to be united, yet these two did nothing..and of course they choose to cast the blame at us because the only thing wrong that we did was win that match. We worked as the well-oiled machine, the unit that three of us are and together we triumphed over these religious fanatics, this conglomerate of clandestine cloak & dagger gathering they mockingly called a Church. We prevailed over this cult that now, because of our actions, because of TRINACRIA has been thwarted and all but disintegrated. We have done a public service, my friends. We have saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives being ruined. It just pains me...
He gulps, looking at the camera and holding back tears.
RICKY RHODES
It just pains me that we could not save Hayden from his fate, such a shame.
We see Rhodes biting down on the single gloved hand knuckle as if holding himself from crying, he gathers himself up again and goes on.
RICKY RHODES
If anything, our actions should not be considered an on all-out assault or an attack but as an act of mercy for a very lost, troubled young man. Hayden Triggs is right now at the height of his fame and it is because of what happened at SOLSTICE, he is the number one topic everywhere, he is in people’s hearts and minds around the world. We are responsible for freeing that poor lost soul they organized that absolute travesty of a charity concert for. If he does ever wake up from his slumber, he better thank TRINACRIA for all he received and for all we did for him. Of course, this is not a scenario where a pretty princess rides in on her white horse and smooches the sweet prince awake but assuming he wakes up and doesn’t get the kiss of death, Hayden Triggs should consider himself a lucky man. He should think about his future long and hard and what truly would be best for him going forward...and for his family and loved ones.
We see Rhodes placing his palms on the expensive table, leaning forward.
RICKY RHODES
As far as the rest of the roster of UPRISING goes, look what happened at SOLSTICE. Look what happens to those who oppose TRINACRIA!
We see a hint of a gleeful, sadistic smirk and then as if snapping back to the situation at hand, Rhodes somberly fixes his shirt collar.
RICKY RHODES
Oh..and remember the name of Hayden Triggs, the man who paid the highest price for other people’s mistakes. Tonight, we are banned from REVOLUTION 13 but are going to dedicate our inevitable win in the second round on July 10...and our run as the future Trios Champions to Hayden Triggs. Get well soon, bud and know that whatever happens you will always be with us. In spirit.
He pats his chest where at least most people would have a heart.
We see the camera pan through the trio once again with Ricky showing a very serious face, Nico with a shit-eating smirk and the ever-stoic Vincenzo expressionless as we fade to another advertising break.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
EXT. SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
Drenched in stunning neon advertisements, Korean men and women donning surgical face masks over their mouths and noses walk through a small alleyway. The floor is lined in what looks like cobblestones, pink lights pouring over the scenery with a nearby shop to the left. In the distance, dark blue illuminates in front of another store while the city’s ambient sounds flow through the speakers. Panning to the right, we start to follow one particular figure as she comes into the shot with the back of her black dress shirt serving as the prominent backdrop.
FEMALE VOICEOVER
July 10th, 2021.
The date shows up on screen in a simple pink font, except it’s in the stylized form "07.10.21" while the camera zooms out to reveal we’re now somewhere else entirely in a seamless transition.
CUT TO:
EXT. MANCHESTER, ENGLAND
Manchester Town Hall and Albert Square look regal at night, that same woman walking through with her hands fidgeting. All we see is the back of her while the warm pink colors bloom from the lampposts overhead. Her new thigh-length trench coat has a union jack design, its colors slightly distorted like blotches of pink, blue, and white watercolors. Walking through a crowd with her head down, her dark brown long hair covers her eyes as she shuffles forward with awkward grace.
FEMALE VOICEOVER
코다가오고있다.
Again, the words show up on screen with a whisper, but this time it’s in the Korean language. It seems hardly anybody in the crowd could read the language. However, a handful of fans start to cheer in acknowledgement of what this must mean! As the woman turns a corner, we transition smoothly to somewhere new, the idle sounds shifting only slightly.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM
Outside the arena, the young lady stands in the shadow of the Silver State Ballroom in a dark blue trench coat lined with a shiny pink trim. She’s looking up with wonder and awe but as soon as her face is shown with a twirl of the camera, its revealed she’s wearing an unsettling porcelain doll mask with what looks like pink ink pouring from its eye sockets. The dark blue material is cracked, its eyes and lips colored with a touch of brighter blue, and the Korean words show up again. Then, it flicker transitions to its English translation.
FEMALE VOICEOVER
Coda is coming.
Coda removes her mask to reveal her face, beautiful and soft, as everyone who knows her in the audience erupts into cheers. While expressionless at first, she flashes a subtle smile for just a second. Then, the vignette ends.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
SILVER STATE CONTENDER
AZURINE VEBBINS vs GASTON GILLET
The bell rings and Azurine wastes no time, diving straight for Gaston who ducks under the attempt and hits her with a stiff kick to the hamstring – she crumbles to a knee, and he scoops her for a speedy running slam. Azzy, undaunted, pops right back up although she's limping slightly, and Gaston is only to happy to back off to let her regroup. When she seems stable, Gaston charges at the ropes to hit another attack, but Azzy cuts him off with a stiff palm strike to the face and then a series of forearm shivers! The big man is stunned, backed into the corner and Azurine unloads with a standing dropkick – REVERSAL! GASTON CATCHES HER AND SLAMS HER BACK DOWN WITH AUTHORITY ONLY TO HOIST HER UP AGAIN FOR A ROLLING NECK SNAP! He's showing off his technical expertise as Azurine staggers back up, pushing her hair from her face with dogged determination and they square up again. She fires in a few strikes that Gaston scouts but when he tries to grab her, she slips around behind – WHAT A SPECTACULAR RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX! A springboard double axehandle connects and Gaston is grounded. Azurine floats over into a cover.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Gaston tries to get up, but Azurine quickly wraps him up in an abdominal stretch as the referee checks for any sign of Gaston giving in. He refuses, powering through and dragging Vebbins to the ropes for a break. Gaston crumples to the mat and Azzy waits for him to get up with the help of the ropes before grabbing his arm, looking to whip him to the opposite side – NOPE! GASTON RESISTS AND IT'S A SHORT-ARMED LARIAT THAT TURNS AZZY INSIDE OUT. Once again, Vebbins staggers up to her feet, but Gaston knocks her down with another dropkick then hits the ropes as she tries to get up again, hitting a third dropkick but as she dodges, it connects with the side of Azzy's head. She staggers back and FLIP REVERSE (Michinoku Driver)! Gaston's got her down, but he backs off when he sees she's woozy from that inadvertent head shot. He reaches down to help her up and she nods that she's okay to continue.
Gaston flies, hitting her with a Yakuza kick that knocks her back into the corner and he follows in with his patented RED, WHITE & BRUISED chops in the corner, leaving Vebbins slumped over in a world of hurt. He goes for the Bear Necesseties (bear hug) but Azzy nails a kick to the midsection – STUNNING REVERSAL INTO THE WINNING IN AMERICA (Cobra Clutch Slam) and the crowd is going nuts as Gaston drops down for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Gaston Gillet has just picked up the biggest win of his UPRISING career and he can't be happier about it!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): GASTON GILLET
CUT TO:
EXT. SOMEWHERE IN RENO
Her boots clack upon a grated steel cat walk. Diffused lighting shines through to cast segmented, dramatic light and shadow upon the ceiling, illuminating her form from below. There is a mechanical grace to the movements of her chiselled, muscular frame, every motion almost too perfect and precise. The leather wrestling attire she wears gleams and refracts the soft lighting below in soft, diffused hues. One could almost imagine a soft red flash in her eyes for the briefest of seconds as she looks back upon the camera recording her in this foreboding and dark industrial environment. The woman's face is a grim, stone-like mask of impassive expression with unblinking eyes staring with an unsettling intensity. Her jet black hair is half shaven on one side of her head, giving her a punk like appearance juxtaposed against her powerful, athletic frame. She looked as if someone straight from a futuristic noire. There are few who do not recognize her as URSULA VON ROSSBACH. She stops before the camera and slightly lowers her head forward.
URSULA VON ROSSBACH
Upon entry, I found myself greeted with a mixture of temperatures from the myriad of competitors within this company. Some greeted me with the warmth of a proper challenge, some regarded me respectfully, and at least one was a disgusting and unworthy troll in a lizard suit that I will happily strip of her pride, dignity, and costume if she ever dares to cross me again.
She visibly scoffs at the mere thought of the pretend dragon.
URSULA VON ROSSBACH
Quite the colorful cast assembled here by Mr. Jackson, a man whom I have had favorable experience working with in a prior promotion. He knows fully well what he can expect from me, as do any fans who have prior knowledge of my work elsewhere. What I say next is not hollow words or boasting, but proven facts. Every promotion I have ever worked, I have been a force of nature, unyielding and as brutal as the fury of the storm. In my wake I have left only the detritus of my enemies scattered behind me as I added their names to my life's work, The Resume of Destruction.
A small, unnerving smile creases her thin lips.
URSULA VON ROSSBACH
Bring your weapons, curl your fists tightly, and show me your strength and power. You shall find your tools to never be enough to stop me. The weight of reality herself stands before you, ready to smash your illusions and fantasies of grandeur. Pain is inconsequential, death is an inconvenience, and I will not stop until I have achieved every goal I desire. I am Ursula Von Rossbach. This exchange is over.
Again there is a small flash of red in her eyes, brief and fleeting, as she turns away from the camera and walks back into the shadows from which she emerged.
The view cuts backstage abruptly to show UPRISING’s resident workhorse and everyman representative "OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON "Don’t call me Daddy" TIRRI. He seems to be looking for someone as the camera follows right on his heels.
DON TIRRI
C’mon, keep up, Steve. You don’t want to miss this. Nobody knows Luthie better than I do around these parts and trust me, if I tried to do this any other way there’d be middle men after middlemen, in the best case scenario. Worst case? Esme picks up the phone and I REALLY don’t wanna deal with that. I prefer one-on-one when it comes to both business AND pleasure.
He turns a corner and smiles.
DON TIRRI
Ha, found ya! What’s up champ, having a blast?
He steps back and the camera sees Luther Thunder leaning up against the wall, barely paying attention to Tirri, who tilts his head.
DON TIRRI
Now, I might not be able to spot everything that goes around me, years of bumps and booze have had their effects, but honestly, Luthie, you seem like you’re missing something. Lessee...
He stands there, tapping his chin in thought.
DON TIRRI
Esme? Nah, she’d be screaming my ears off and wailing like a damn banshee queen if she was here, besides she’d be impossible to miss, considering that she’s the type that doesn’t have their nose cross the boundary first when rounding a corner, if ya catch my drift!
He slaps Luther on the shoulder.
DON TIRRI
C’mon, don’t be such a Debbie Downer, Luthie. Smile a bit. That was funny, you gotta admit.
Don’s jaw drops, his eyes open wide.
DON TIRRI
… Wait, I got it! You’re missing about 10 pounds of gold aren’t you? Did you have a little bit of the bubbly and misplace the UPRISING championship? Or is Esme just getting it shined up or…?
He smacks his forehead.
DON TIRRI
OH RIGHT, you lost it. Nattie-boy snatched it right off ya grasp before he plunged to his demise, or so I’ve been told… wait actually, that was JC who he snatched it from. Whatever happened to you at SOLSTICE? Wait, I didn’t pin you, did I? Man, what a ride. But if it makes you feel any better, that Napoleon-complexed fucker made me tap, too... so I don’t have it either.
This brings life to Luther, who looks up at Tirri
LUTHER THUNDER
Now’s not the time, Tirri. Go fuck with someone else’s mind for a change. You ended my championship reign. That should be enough to warrant you a chance at the strap soon enough.
The sly smirk on Tirri’s face dies out and he crosses his arms.
DON TIRRI
Not in a mood for jokes now, eh? You were so big on them when you were the champ. Yeah. I ended your reign. But not the way I wanted to. This whole Terrordome-business wasn’t in my plan. See, Luthie, as far as I’m concerned, we ain’t even yet. Whether I have a shot at Nattie or not doesn’t matter when it comes to the two of us. You beat me one-on-one. I beat you in a clusterfuck. It doesn’t count.
The big Dutch man glares at the Finn
LUTHER THUNDER
I don’t give a good damn if it counts to you or not, Tirri. The belt is off me, which is what people seemed to be waiting for anyway. So let it be someone else’s headache for now. You want that title so bad, go snatch it off LEGION or whoever is holding it at the end of the night. You beat me, ended my run as a champion here; be happy with that. You did something so many people claimed they would do but didn’t. So go your merry way to hassle someone else and let me have some peace and quiet.
He steps up to leave but Tirri pushes Luther by the chest, locking the Dutchman between himself and the wall.
DON TIRRI
Oh we are not done, my friend, I’ve sat and listened to you preach and babble on for eons while you were a champion, making your little speeches, well now YOU get to listen to ME for a change. I don’t know if I knocked some screws loose when I dropped you for that pin or what the fuck has happened to you in these few weeks and usually I wouldn’t give a flying fuck but just because it’s you, Luther... I’m making an exception.
He sticks his face inches away from Luther’s, as serious as we’ve ever seen Tirri before.
DON TIRRI
So I am telling you right now to cut whatever act you are trying to put on. I’ve known you long enough to know that you don’t just up and quit or give up on shit because someone beats you. You are too fucking stubborn to do that, Thunder. We may not be as alike as some claim but we have something in common, we’ve both fought through defeats and disappointments in this business and if I plan to ever getting that nagging sensation out of my skull that I didn’t get a chance to face you at your best..none of this shit will be worth it! So I am telling you to find that callous bastard we both know you to be, forget the cameras forget the fact that you are supposedly a "changed man"... forget all that shit Luther, give me what I want, give me a chance to face the REAL you, one time. That’s all I ask, I don’t care how long it takes, but until I get one REAL match with you..we are not done. You can quit the business if you want. I’ll find out whatever villa you stay in and show up every day. You can change companies and I’ll sign up for free just to fight you, get that, Luthie? You don’t like my jokes? Well how about we just make things crystal clear and not the cheap Hilton kind either, huh?!
The big Finn leans his weight on Luther, looking at him.
DON TIRRI
How about it, brother Luther? Or do I need to go and suggest this to Esme instead?
That makes the Dutchman’s eyes flare.
LUTHER THUNDER
You stay the hell away from her; she’s dealt with your shit enough!
DON TIRRI
Then be reasonable. Neither of us likes being without the championship and I hate giving you any credit but if I am not getting that title..you will. Did it once already, could do it again. What we need and what the fans deserve is a good and proper, old school 1 vs 1 match between us foreign bastards..for the biggest prize of them all, agreed?
Thunder nods.
DON TIRRI
Say it! I wanna hear you say it, Luther!
LUTHER THUNDER
Yes! I agree!
With a chuckle, Don steps back, straightening Luther's jacket and tie.
DON TIRRI
That wasn’t so hard, was it? We might not end up being friends, Thunder, but when all is said and done, I might just hate you a little bit less than the rest of the roster.
Thunder walks off, heading away from the cameras.
DON TIRRI
Nice seeing you again, Luth. Give my best to the missus!
_____________________________________________
URSULA VON ROSSBACH
Upon entry, I found myself greeted with a mixture of temperatures from the myriad of competitors within this company. Some greeted me with the warmth of a proper challenge, some regarded me respectfully, and at least one was a disgusting and unworthy troll in a lizard suit that I will happily strip of her pride, dignity, and costume if she ever dares to cross me again.
She visibly scoffs at the mere thought of the pretend dragon.
URSULA VON ROSSBACH
Quite the colorful cast assembled here by Mr. Jackson, a man whom I have had favorable experience working with in a prior promotion. He knows fully well what he can expect from me, as do any fans who have prior knowledge of my work elsewhere. What I say next is not hollow words or boasting, but proven facts. Every promotion I have ever worked, I have been a force of nature, unyielding and as brutal as the fury of the storm. In my wake I have left only the detritus of my enemies scattered behind me as I added their names to my life's work, The Resume of Destruction.
A small, unnerving smile creases her thin lips.
URSULA VON ROSSBACH
Bring your weapons, curl your fists tightly, and show me your strength and power. You shall find your tools to never be enough to stop me. The weight of reality herself stands before you, ready to smash your illusions and fantasies of grandeur. Pain is inconsequential, death is an inconvenience, and I will not stop until I have achieved every goal I desire. I am Ursula Von Rossbach. This exchange is over.
Again there is a small flash of red in her eyes, brief and fleeting, as she turns away from the camera and walks back into the shadows from which she emerged.
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
The view cuts backstage abruptly to show UPRISING’s resident workhorse and everyman representative "OLD SCHOOL COOL" DON "Don’t call me Daddy" TIRRI. He seems to be looking for someone as the camera follows right on his heels.
DON TIRRI
C’mon, keep up, Steve. You don’t want to miss this. Nobody knows Luthie better than I do around these parts and trust me, if I tried to do this any other way there’d be middle men after middlemen, in the best case scenario. Worst case? Esme picks up the phone and I REALLY don’t wanna deal with that. I prefer one-on-one when it comes to both business AND pleasure.
He turns a corner and smiles.
DON TIRRI
Ha, found ya! What’s up champ, having a blast?
He steps back and the camera sees Luther Thunder leaning up against the wall, barely paying attention to Tirri, who tilts his head.
DON TIRRI
Now, I might not be able to spot everything that goes around me, years of bumps and booze have had their effects, but honestly, Luthie, you seem like you’re missing something. Lessee...
He stands there, tapping his chin in thought.
DON TIRRI
Esme? Nah, she’d be screaming my ears off and wailing like a damn banshee queen if she was here, besides she’d be impossible to miss, considering that she’s the type that doesn’t have their nose cross the boundary first when rounding a corner, if ya catch my drift!
He slaps Luther on the shoulder.
DON TIRRI
C’mon, don’t be such a Debbie Downer, Luthie. Smile a bit. That was funny, you gotta admit.
Don’s jaw drops, his eyes open wide.
DON TIRRI
… Wait, I got it! You’re missing about 10 pounds of gold aren’t you? Did you have a little bit of the bubbly and misplace the UPRISING championship? Or is Esme just getting it shined up or…?
He smacks his forehead.
DON TIRRI
OH RIGHT, you lost it. Nattie-boy snatched it right off ya grasp before he plunged to his demise, or so I’ve been told… wait actually, that was JC who he snatched it from. Whatever happened to you at SOLSTICE? Wait, I didn’t pin you, did I? Man, what a ride. But if it makes you feel any better, that Napoleon-complexed fucker made me tap, too... so I don’t have it either.
This brings life to Luther, who looks up at Tirri
LUTHER THUNDER
Now’s not the time, Tirri. Go fuck with someone else’s mind for a change. You ended my championship reign. That should be enough to warrant you a chance at the strap soon enough.
The sly smirk on Tirri’s face dies out and he crosses his arms.
DON TIRRI
Not in a mood for jokes now, eh? You were so big on them when you were the champ. Yeah. I ended your reign. But not the way I wanted to. This whole Terrordome-business wasn’t in my plan. See, Luthie, as far as I’m concerned, we ain’t even yet. Whether I have a shot at Nattie or not doesn’t matter when it comes to the two of us. You beat me one-on-one. I beat you in a clusterfuck. It doesn’t count.
The big Dutch man glares at the Finn
LUTHER THUNDER
I don’t give a good damn if it counts to you or not, Tirri. The belt is off me, which is what people seemed to be waiting for anyway. So let it be someone else’s headache for now. You want that title so bad, go snatch it off LEGION or whoever is holding it at the end of the night. You beat me, ended my run as a champion here; be happy with that. You did something so many people claimed they would do but didn’t. So go your merry way to hassle someone else and let me have some peace and quiet.
He steps up to leave but Tirri pushes Luther by the chest, locking the Dutchman between himself and the wall.
DON TIRRI
Oh we are not done, my friend, I’ve sat and listened to you preach and babble on for eons while you were a champion, making your little speeches, well now YOU get to listen to ME for a change. I don’t know if I knocked some screws loose when I dropped you for that pin or what the fuck has happened to you in these few weeks and usually I wouldn’t give a flying fuck but just because it’s you, Luther... I’m making an exception.
He sticks his face inches away from Luther’s, as serious as we’ve ever seen Tirri before.
DON TIRRI
So I am telling you right now to cut whatever act you are trying to put on. I’ve known you long enough to know that you don’t just up and quit or give up on shit because someone beats you. You are too fucking stubborn to do that, Thunder. We may not be as alike as some claim but we have something in common, we’ve both fought through defeats and disappointments in this business and if I plan to ever getting that nagging sensation out of my skull that I didn’t get a chance to face you at your best..none of this shit will be worth it! So I am telling you to find that callous bastard we both know you to be, forget the cameras forget the fact that you are supposedly a "changed man"... forget all that shit Luther, give me what I want, give me a chance to face the REAL you, one time. That’s all I ask, I don’t care how long it takes, but until I get one REAL match with you..we are not done. You can quit the business if you want. I’ll find out whatever villa you stay in and show up every day. You can change companies and I’ll sign up for free just to fight you, get that, Luthie? You don’t like my jokes? Well how about we just make things crystal clear and not the cheap Hilton kind either, huh?!
The big Finn leans his weight on Luther, looking at him.
DON TIRRI
How about it, brother Luther? Or do I need to go and suggest this to Esme instead?
That makes the Dutchman’s eyes flare.
LUTHER THUNDER
You stay the hell away from her; she’s dealt with your shit enough!
DON TIRRI
Then be reasonable. Neither of us likes being without the championship and I hate giving you any credit but if I am not getting that title..you will. Did it once already, could do it again. What we need and what the fans deserve is a good and proper, old school 1 vs 1 match between us foreign bastards..for the biggest prize of them all, agreed?
Thunder nods.
DON TIRRI
Say it! I wanna hear you say it, Luther!
LUTHER THUNDER
Yes! I agree!
With a chuckle, Don steps back, straightening Luther's jacket and tie.
DON TIRRI
That wasn’t so hard, was it? We might not end up being friends, Thunder, but when all is said and done, I might just hate you a little bit less than the rest of the roster.
Thunder walks off, heading away from the cameras.
DON TIRRI
Nice seeing you again, Luth. Give my best to the missus!
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. BACKSTAGE -- CONTINUOUS
"BUFFALO SOLDIER" BY BOB MARLEY PLAYS.
RENO NEVADA. Sunglasses cover his eyes with red lenses. He slides them down the bridge of his nose, revealing the dilated pupils surrounded by the thin rims of his green irises. A bent joint hangs from the corner of his lips, as ribbons of smoke dance into the air.
He’s wearing an a-frame undershirt, aka wife-beater, aka Southie Swimsuit, with a tropical shirt loosely hanging from his shoulders and tan trousers. He slowly bends over with his hips pushed out, with a hockey stick in his hands. Before its blade a puck rests on the concrete floor.
RENO
Aight, this is it. For all the marbles.
Steve the Intern stands further down the hall in front of a hockey net. This time he’s not wearing Jackson’s stolen WWI gas mask. Instead he’s dressed in what looks like a DIY space suit. A huge glass fish bowl is fitted around his head and taped at the neck to the black plastic harvested from lawn bags which have been cobbled and taped together to form a suit. For safety, pillows are taped around his torso and limbs. Next to him on the floor is a set of oxygen tanks like you see old people wheeling around. Plastic lines feed O2 into the suit, running all the way up to his face where they’re hooked into his nostrils.
Steve sounds like he’s in an echo chamber.
STEVE
You know, I don’t think this is safe, sir.
RENO
How do you know? You ever play hockey?
STEVE
No, have you?
RENO
No, but I watch it a lot. Though I did rush the ice at a Bruins game once. Got halfway to center ice before Patrice Bergeron cracked me in the head with his stick. Shoulda got a penalty for slashing but instead he got a standing ovation. I got a night in jail with a concussion.
Reno shimmies his hips as he readies himself. He takes a long, deep breath, before letting it slowly exhale through his nose. He pulls the stick back. This is the moment we will always remember. People will be telling their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren this story for decades to come, until it becomes a legend for the ages.
He thrusts the stick forward. Contact! The puck flies forward at breakneck speed. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stay on the concrete. It lifts into the air and spins wildly down the smoke-filled hall. CUT TO: Steve’s face inside the fishbowl. His eyes go wide and he yelps a split second before the puck clangs off the glass bowl. It then careens off at an angle.
Reno makes a shocked face. He bounces down the hallway to Steve who appears no worse for wear, save a smudge on his helmet. Reno pinches the end of the joint, extinguishing it before tucking it behind his ear.
Reno grabs the fishbowl with both hands and leans forward.
RENO
STEVIE. STEVE MY BOYYY. CAN YOU HEAR ME?!
STEVE
Yes…
RENO
THANK GOD.
STEVE
I appreciate your concern, sir.
RENO
CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE THE PUCK WENT? HELLO?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!
STEVE
You were just talking to me about hockey. Twelve feet away. Of course I can hear you.
RENO
Focus! The puck, Stevie. Where is the PUCK?!
With a bewildered look, Steve turns in his awkward space suit and points down the corridor to the left. Reno rushes off. For a moment we’re left with Steve, who looks through the glass at the huge padded gloves taped with layers of duct tape around his wrists.
STEVE
How the hell am I getting out of this?
RENO
(from afar)
LANGUAGE.
CUT TO: Reno hurrying down the hallway, stick in hand. Bob Marley’s voice is echoing around the concrete corridor as he searches frantically for the puck. Ahead, he locates it sitting next to a door. He hurries to pick it up just as the door swings inward. Two sets of legs step out into the hallway in front of him. He looks up and his face slackens in a look of shock. We follow him as he stands.
The first pair of legs belong to Brad Jackson. The second to Nicolas Cage—actor, collector of oddities, renaissance man.
JACKSON
Reno?
RENO
Uh.
JACKSON
What are you doing here?
Reno holds up his hockey puck and stick.
JACKSON
You really shouldn’t be playing hockey in the hallways. Is that a joint?
Reno’s eyes tick to the right, where the joint rests behind his ear.
RENO
Mayyybe.
Jackson leans forward and sniffs. His eyes widen and he coughs lightly.
JACKSON
For fuck's sake, are you high?
RENO
I’m mildly elevated.
JACKSON
You have a match later.
RENO
Holy shit. Is it Saturday already?
JACKSON
How are you going to wrestle high?
RENO
It’s therapeutic. Dr. Spaceman says I need to keep my levels up because of my glaucoma. If I fail to keep my body properly medicated the pressure in my eyeballs could damage my optical nerves.
JACKSON
Dr. Spaceman. Okay. Anyway, this happens to concern you so I’m glad you’re here. First off, I’m sure you know who this man is. I know you’re a big fan of his.
Reno looks over at Nic Cage.
RENO
Nicolas Cage. Um, hi.
Nic, dressed in a lime green and black suit with several gold necklaces and rings, pulls his sunglasses off and looks at Reno with his trademark gaze that can pierce a man’s soul with but a glance. He then extends his hand out with a smoky smile.
NIC CAGE
It’s a pleasure to meet you.
Reno takes his hand and gives a few shakes.
RENO
Oh, well, yeah. Same.
NIC CAGE
I’ve really enjoyed your matches in the ring. I’m excited that we’ll be working together.
Reno flashes a confused look. Jackson steps in.
JACKSON
Nic has been watching UPRISING since our start. He’s a huge fan.
NIC CAGE
I prefer the word auteur.
JACKSON
Right, well, anyway, he read about your proposed Elvis Has Left the Building Match and apparently he wants to direct it.
RENO
Really.
NIC CAGE
And it’s happening next week.
RENO
Really.
JACKSON
I thought you’d be happier about it. I mean, it was your idea.
RENO
No, no, I’m ecstatic. Who’s gonna be in it?
JACKSON
You, of course. Don Tirri, Ignis and Griffin Hawkins.
NIC CAGE
You’re going to shake, rattle and roll your way through this casino and I’m going to make sure every moment is captured in 70mm Superscope and in Technicolor, just like the King would have wanted.
RENO
That sounds…fantastic.
NIC CAGE
Okay, well…
Nic slides his sunglasses back on, then turns around and walks off, leaving Jackson and Reno standing there alone.
JACKSON
Seriously, are you going to be able to compete tonight?
RENO
Oh, BJ, don’t worry a single hair in that glorious salt ‘n peppa do. There’s no substance on this planet that can defeat Reno Machino. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I forgot to get an autograph.
Reno hurries off down the corridor after Nic Cage. Jackson stares off for a moment, before shaking his head and walking back into his office.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
TOTAL ANARCHY: BRING YOUR OWN WEAPONS MATCH
RENO NEVADA vs JACK OWYNS
Reno and Owyns have both come prepared for this match. Reno grips what looks to be some monstrosity of a mop dipped in a bucket of super glue left over from the TaiPei death match then ran through some broken glass. Owyns has gone a more traditional route, holding a 2x4 wrapped in barbed wire. The two circle one another, weapons raised. Reno fakes a charge and grins as Owyns clinches up. He then swings the 2x4 but Reno blocks with the mop! A sword fight sans swords breaks out!
As they lock mop and board, the two begin to push against each other...but the stalemate breaks as Reno hocks a fat, thick, brown loogie into Jack's face! Owyns yells in disgust, but the yell goes up an octave as Reno takes him to dick kick city! He then swings the mop and although Owyns covers up his face, the glass-covered glue mop from hell slices his forearms all to hell! Reno hauls back with the mop again, but Owyns counters by taking Reno to dick punch city! Now both men are down and grabbing themselves live in front of people! Owyns manages to roll out of the ring. He tries to walk it off. Suddenly, he spots the tables and a wicked grin crosses his face. He begins setting one up as quickly as he can. Then another. Then another. He lines them up, and turns around,..to find Reno leaping from the apron with the 2x4 Owyns had brought!!
*CRACK*
The board splinters, a piece flying over the barrier into the crowd and Owyns crumples on the floor, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead. Reno holds the remaining chunk of wood aloft, bellowing out to the crowd's amusement.
RENO
HOOOOOOOOOOO -- OOF!
He goes down hard as Owyns is still coherent enough to yank him off his feet and into a chokehold on the floor but Reno's still got a great grip on that wood and he jabs the splintered end into the face of Jack Owyns! The hold's released and now Reno's got him in a headlock, the now-bloody hunk of wood discarded as he starts dragging Jack Owyns up the ramp. Halfway up, Owyns sags to his knees and Reno hauls him up, throwing an arm over his shoulder as though he's an inebriated buddy before tossing him through the curtain into the gorilla position, startling Summer Page who's in the middle of giving her sisters a pep talk.
SUMMER PAGE
...and like, I swear if you two can't get it done against those two loser cosplayers, I'm disowning you AND unfollowing you both on TikTok.
DANIELLE PAGE
You wouldn't.
Reno taps Danielle on the shoulder and she turns around just as Jack Owyns punches him in the dick! That cheerful wave turns into a pained grimace and the pair of sweaty and bloody men blunder through, leaving the girls screaming and scattering. Reno grabs Owyns, his pain tolerance just as elevated as his mind as he spins him around, slamming him face-first into the cinderblock wall. Owyns slides down, leaving a smear of red and Neil Rana comes charging in, dropping for the count as Reno awkwardly sprawls on top of Owyns, his eyes still on the Page sisters as they back away.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): RENO NEVADA
CUT TO:
EXT. SOMEWHERE NOT IN RENO
The Whitest of Noise w/ Regan Voorhees
(Best paired with Ten Hours of White Noise and a White Lady Cocktail)
The room is thoroughly, utterly, maddeningly white - a pristine ivory cube from floor to walls, to ceilings, all spotless. The flawlessness unsettles the mind, the lack of imperfections enough to distort reality itself.
In the center of the room, at the nexus of the eerie perfection, sits Regan Voorhees. She remains stationary, in the lotus position, her eyes shut, her carefully timed breathing inaudible. Time halts.
Then a ding. The previously unnoticeable white noise stops suddenly, the sudden noiselessness like an inaudible assault on the senses. Brown eyes snap open, curled eyelashes flutter, the Duchess of Pork returns to her senses.
REGAN VOORHEES
Ten hours already?
A quick examination of her fingernails reveals that they remain immaculate and unchipped, the same blood red as her lipstick and robe, a startling contrast to her surroundings. Her posture relaxes, as her hand reaches offscreen, to retrieve a cocktail from some pocket dimension. One hand brings the drink to her lips, the other motions at the room - a shade lighter than Regan’s own complexion.
REGAN VOORHEES
I myself have been called a socialite, among other things. Though it’s hardly the only descriptor I would apply to myself. Socialite, scholar, capitalist, crusader, combatant, conqueress, the list continues, though I’d hate to leave you with so many vocabulary words to look up. To the simpleminded observer, you might seem like my twisted reflections. Bizarro-Regans for me to vanquish so that I can obliterate my own internal weaknesses in the process. A battle against the self, entry-level psychobabble masquerading as insight.
A pause. A swirl of the drink. A sip.
REGAN VOORHEES
But just because you drink your piss from a champagne flute, doesn’t mean we have much in common. You rely on your privilege for relevance, instead of using your sizable advantages to sharpen your minds, hone your skills, and strengthen your bodies. You settle for the illusion of dedication. Less posh. More pish-posh. Take a selfie of yourself lifting weights, otherwise it doesn’t count. Ever have someone dislocate your shoulder, just so you can know how it feels? Do try it, dears. Quite exquisite. Then again, perhaps I’m a bit of a weirdo.
Regan’s head twists, the crack of her neck echoing through the room. She sighs with relief and enjoys another drink.
REGAN VOORHEES
My money, my privilege, my advantages are all a means to an end. Weapons in the arsenal of my empire. If the world is not as I desire, then through sheer will I shall break it to pieces and remake it as I see fit. You, on the other hand, post thirst traps. Only a fool would think us similar. You lack my resolve. Ten minutes in a room like this and any one of you would mentally crumble. My mind, like my body, like my career, like my success… Endures. Take note, ladies. I’m what you could’ve been.
She finishes the drink, passes it off camera, and folds her body back into the lotus position. Her eyes shut, a chuckle escapes her throat.
REGAN VOORHEES
I suppose I’m more of an anti-socialite.
Her breathing steadies and she returns to her meditation. The white noise returns. The scene fades to static.
CUT TO:
INT. SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- RINGSIDE
The arena very quickly goes dark before a pre-taped scene shows on the video wall. It is hard to see what is really going on until the shadow of a slim woman, about five foot six in height, walks briskly across a plain white wall.
WOMAN'S VOICE
El exceso de confianza es una verdadera tontería, ¿no es así? ¿No es gracioso cómo todo puede cambiar en un abrir y cerrar de ojos?
(Overconfidence is a real fool's errand, is it not? Isn't it funny how everything can change in the blink of an eye?)
When the translated voice finishes speaking, there are several gasps in the crowd as there's a clap of lightning and a loud burst of thunder, and the shadow seems to be wearing a pointed mask. The entire poise of the shadow has now changed to that of a stealthy predator as she stalks her prey. There are several more gasps as we see a large rat trying to scurry away before a brief flash illuminates the area on screen, and we see the rat stop running and then keel over onto its back.
WOMAN'S VOICE
Puedes hacer tu mejor esfuerzo para correr. Puedes pararte como muchos soldados valientes ante ti y aceptar tu destino. Es tu elección, mortal. Eso es de poca importancia para mí.
(You can do your best to run. You can stand like many brave soldiers before you and accept your destiny. It's your choice, mortal. That is of little importance to me.)
The shadow of the masked woman seems to throw back its head and flex. The sound of this woman's evil laughter bounces off the walls nearby, and without warning, from out of her hiding place in a dim and secluded part of the arena, SUICIDA is face to face with the screen!
SUICIDA
Hola, UPRISING fanáticos de la lucha libre. Lo sé. ¡Solo quieres ver arder el mundo!
(Hello, UPRISING fans. I know. You just want to watch the world burn!)
The masked woman cannot help but cackle with laughter as several sections of the crowd begin to BOO her. The crowd noise quickly turns to bewilderment as Suicida begins to crackle with what seems to be electricity, but nobody can be sure.
SUICIDA
No. No. Relájate, idiotas. No te estás volviendo loco. ¡Viste lo que pensaste que veías!
(No. No. Relax, you idiots. You are not going crazy. You saw what you thought you saw!)
Suicida steps back from the lens a bit. Strangely enough, the dim area around her seems to glow as she continues to speak.
SUICIDA
¿Para aquellos de ustedes que necesitan ese portador de retribución? ¿Ese presagio del karma? ¡Ese ángel de la muerte! ¿El que, de hecho, hará arder este mundo?
(For those of you who need that carrier of retribution? That harbinger of karma? That angel of death! The one who will actually set this world on fire?)
Suicida once more approaches the lens, slowly and menacingly.
SUICIDA
¡Es tu niña!
The last thing the crowd sees is a bright flash, and the last thing they hear of this scene is a loud buzzing sound and howl of pain emanating from the man behind the camera, before the screen goes dark. The crowd don't know what to do with themselves as the arena lights flicker like crazy for a couple of seconds before coming back to life and the view cuts mercifully to another advertising break for upcoming SplatTV content.
_____________________________________________
The arena very quickly goes dark before a pre-taped scene shows on the video wall. It is hard to see what is really going on until the shadow of a slim woman, about five foot six in height, walks briskly across a plain white wall.
WOMAN'S VOICE
El exceso de confianza es una verdadera tontería, ¿no es así? ¿No es gracioso cómo todo puede cambiar en un abrir y cerrar de ojos?
(Overconfidence is a real fool's errand, is it not? Isn't it funny how everything can change in the blink of an eye?)
When the translated voice finishes speaking, there are several gasps in the crowd as there's a clap of lightning and a loud burst of thunder, and the shadow seems to be wearing a pointed mask. The entire poise of the shadow has now changed to that of a stealthy predator as she stalks her prey. There are several more gasps as we see a large rat trying to scurry away before a brief flash illuminates the area on screen, and we see the rat stop running and then keel over onto its back.
WOMAN'S VOICE
Puedes hacer tu mejor esfuerzo para correr. Puedes pararte como muchos soldados valientes ante ti y aceptar tu destino. Es tu elección, mortal. Eso es de poca importancia para mí.
(You can do your best to run. You can stand like many brave soldiers before you and accept your destiny. It's your choice, mortal. That is of little importance to me.)
The shadow of the masked woman seems to throw back its head and flex. The sound of this woman's evil laughter bounces off the walls nearby, and without warning, from out of her hiding place in a dim and secluded part of the arena, SUICIDA is face to face with the screen!
SUICIDA
Hola, UPRISING fanáticos de la lucha libre. Lo sé. ¡Solo quieres ver arder el mundo!
(Hello, UPRISING fans. I know. You just want to watch the world burn!)
The masked woman cannot help but cackle with laughter as several sections of the crowd begin to BOO her. The crowd noise quickly turns to bewilderment as Suicida begins to crackle with what seems to be electricity, but nobody can be sure.
SUICIDA
No. No. Relájate, idiotas. No te estás volviendo loco. ¡Viste lo que pensaste que veías!
(No. No. Relax, you idiots. You are not going crazy. You saw what you thought you saw!)
Suicida steps back from the lens a bit. Strangely enough, the dim area around her seems to glow as she continues to speak.
SUICIDA
¿Para aquellos de ustedes que necesitan ese portador de retribución? ¿Ese presagio del karma? ¡Ese ángel de la muerte! ¿El que, de hecho, hará arder este mundo?
(For those of you who need that carrier of retribution? That harbinger of karma? That angel of death! The one who will actually set this world on fire?)
Suicida once more approaches the lens, slowly and menacingly.
SUICIDA
¡Es tu niña!
The last thing the crowd sees is a bright flash, and the last thing they hear of this scene is a loud buzzing sound and howl of pain emanating from the man behind the camera, before the screen goes dark. The crowd don't know what to do with themselves as the arena lights flicker like crazy for a couple of seconds before coming back to life and the view cuts mercifully to another advertising break for upcoming SplatTV content.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
STATIC
All of a sudden a metal rendition of the Winnie the Pooh theme begins to play as animated crayon drawings are doodled on the screen. They're accompanied by an instruction to sing along by following the bouncing butt.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR & THE IMPERIAL NECROMANTIC CHILDRENS' CHOIR
Upon the Revolution show
Where Pisstopher Moshbin sprays
You'll find a Rich Winos' Booster Club
Backing Pisstopher's escapades
A crude crayon figure, identified as Chris Mosh, PissWizard Sorcerer, dressed in Christopher Robin's iconic yellow collared shirt and blue shorts has his stick figure dick whipped out. Thankfully the single crayon line is covered to make things safe for children with a black censor box with the word "LEWD" written on it as if it came from a label-maker.
Pisstopher Moshbin is pissing into the wind, as indicated by a weathercock pointing in the opposite direction of his sinister spray. Pisstopher, however, doesn't seem to mind the splatter on his legs or the puddle as he piddles profusely upon a simplistic illustration of the Revolution show logo.
"Boy, is it ever windy!" says Pisstopher Moshbin, just before a muscular figure with a box-shaped head, oversized arms, a V-shaped body, and tiny little legs leans into the scene.
Helpfully identified as Bradleighroyce "Jax" Jackson, UPRISING GM, and decidedly NOT Super Meat Boy, the scowly, surly GM states "I would like for you to stop pissing on my show, but imma give you title shots anyway."
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR & THE IMPERIAL NECROMANTIC CHILDRENS' CHOIR
That piss wizard Mosh is a bell-end
And now he has backup too
Bodaggit, Turd Niblet, of course they're foul
Almost as bad as Summer the Poop
Two new figures stroll onto the scene as we move away from the resident Uromancer and our beloved bossman. Both are drawn with brown crayon with numerous green stink lines and several flies surrounding them. For some reason they have a pair of lines looking like rabbit ears sticking out of the tops of their heads. Ah! They state "We're foul and don't dye our roots!" so those are apparently literal roots.
They're identified as Danielle Page aka "Bodaggit" and "The Tall One" and Vanessa Page aka "Turd Niblet" and "The Flat One." Ah, that explains those yellow lumps on the drawings. Apparently they're chunks of corn stuck in the poo of their bodies and meant to represent their bustiness, or lack thereof in the case of Vanessa, who has a stray long, black hair sticking out of her butt.
Then a horrible monstrosity slithers into the scene, a giant pile of poop identified as Summer Page, aka "Summer the Poop" and "The "Thicc" One," who for some reason has a handlebar mustache and a bald spot. She's sporting an absolutely massive array of stink lines and a huge swarm of flies.
"Lemme tell you somethin', Spleen Gene!" she states in her text bubble, assigned the mannerisms of a certain iconic pro wrestler from the days of yore for some reason, "With the Poopster at his side, Chris Mosh has all the little fecalpheliacs in his corner, dude!"
Kalinda's trademark cerulean comes in via text to explain that she asked her scientific-type diagram graphics team to draw Summer Page as the biggest wrestling turd possible, and thus her guess as to why Summer Page is looking and talking like Hulk Hogan.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR & THE IMPERIAL NECROMANTIC CHILDRENS' CHOIR
Summer the Poop, Summer the Poop
Dirty little turdy interfering in stuff
She's Summer the Poop, Summer the Poop
Stinky, hinky, drinky moist prat
Now we pan over to a crayon ring, where Chris Mosh, with a label reading "STILL LEWD" over his privates, is piddling in the middle of the Revolution ring, a big smile on his face with one hand on his magic wand and the other gesturing dramatically in the air as he regally states that "One day you'll all thank me for pissing on you and will gleefully join the ranks of my anointed Pissciples!"
His long-time nemesis Sam Tolson, represented by a cluster of balloons with their strings tied together and sporting the Silver State Championship, scowls in annoyance at Pisstopher Moshbin.
Summer the Poop oozes down the entry ramp and up the ring steps, splashing a glass of wine in her poo-pseudopod (or poo-dopod if you will) everywhere as she drunkenly moves about. "Don't worry, Moshie!" she reassures her piddling paramour, "Summer's coming to let fecalphilia run wild all over Sam Tolson!" and then hiccups drunkenly and lets loose with a screen shaking belch.
Meanwhile a pair of dark and sinister figures emerges from the darkness. A hunchback figure with a box shaped head, far too much mascara, glowing blue eyes, one snaggletooth sticking out, and sporting a shovel is accompanied by an anthropomorphic cigarette wearing lipstick.
A caption helpfully identifies the cigarette as UPRISING's World Champion, Legion, and also as El Hijo de Mr. Butts. "This is prime, Grade-A bullshit, Igornigma!" proclaims the cigarette, "We need this so I can pull more name drops out of my ass!" he calls to the parody Engima, who is scooping up Summer's poo trail with a shovel and replies "Yeth mathter."
Just as Summer the Poop enters the ring, the screen blacks out with a label reading "FAR TOO GROSS FOR ILLUSTRATIONS" as the last lines of the song are sung.
TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHPS
SWINE FLEW vs THE SOCIALITES
Regan Voorhees and Danielle Page starts off in style with Page trying to slide out of the ring only to be cut off by Steve The Intern on the outside. He holds up the dangerous and dastardly pillow and Danielle turns right around into a series of vicious strikes – EYE POKE REVERSAL! Danielle slips out of the ring and starts telling Steve off, giving Regan time to follow her out and send her crashing into the ring steps. Regan rolls Danielle back into the ring. Regan springs off the ropes for a knee to the body and starts hammering away on Danielle before Ref Stef intervenes for the closed-fist strikes. Back up, Regan goes to send Danielle into the corner but she blocks, fires back with a few hard strikes – backdrop in the corner but she can't get any offense going because it's the wrong corner and Kalinda tags herself in! Tail sweep and Danielle is on her back. A few tenderizing knee drops later and she's desperately screaming for her sister to intervene. Vanessa steps through the ropes and Regan flies across with a dropkick meant for the invading sister but it was all a ruse and she drops down, sending Regan crashing into her partner. Hot tag in the Socialites corner and Vanessa and Danielle double team Kalinda as Regan rolls out of the ring, trying to shake off the impact and embarrassment of that rookie botch. Page sisters with a double springboard back elbow and Vanessa drops for a cover.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Kalinda roars with rage and flings Vanessa aside, kipping up to her feet. Kalinda is on fire (figuratively) as she launches herself at Vanessa, nailing a vicious uppercut that staggers her before following it with a spinebuster. Kalinda goes for a springboard lariat that misses the mark but she drop toe holds Danielle into the knees of Vanessa as she tags herself back in. Standing moonsault and a tail wrapped around Danielle to keep her down.
ONE!
TWO!
TH—NO!
Corner knee strike by Kalinda to Danielle and Regan hits a corner forearm to Vanessa, keeping her from going for the save as the crowd goes nuts. This is the kind of tag team wrestling everyone wants to see! Strait jacket suplex to Danielle Page and then both girls are tied up with a double bow and arrow courtesy of the champions! Back up and it's more dirty shenanigans as Page does an instep stomp on Kalinda before raking her eyes and she slings The Dragoness into the corner, looking for a shoulder block that connects before she starts chopping away at Kalinda – talons to the torso and Danielle comes away with a huge tear across her top that looks like it might be a wardrobe malfunction if this match doesn't end soon! Vanessa and Regan are fighting on the outside before Steve tosses the pillow in – KLANG! A charging Vanessa is downed and Regan shrugs as the crowd starts booing.
Danielle dropkicks the knee of Kalinda – DENIED! SHE CATCHES PAGE WITH THE KNIGHT-NIGHT OUT OF NOWHERE! Kalinda drops, hooking both legs as though she wants to make a statement but Danielle isn't even moving.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): SWINE FLEW
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR & THE IMPERIAL NECROMANTIC CHILDRENS' CHOIR
Upon the Revolution show
Where Pisstopher Moshbin sprays
You'll find a Rich Winos' Booster Club
Backing Pisstopher's escapades
A crude crayon figure, identified as Chris Mosh, Piss
Pisstopher Moshbin is pissing into the wind, as indicated by a weathercock pointing in the opposite direction of his sinister spray. Pisstopher, however, doesn't seem to mind the splatter on his legs or the puddle as he piddles profusely upon a simplistic illustration of the Revolution show logo.
"Boy, is it ever windy!" says Pisstopher Moshbin, just before a muscular figure with a box-shaped head, oversized arms, a V-shaped body, and tiny little legs leans into the scene.
Helpfully identified as Bradleighroyce "Jax" Jackson, UPRISING GM, and decidedly NOT Super Meat Boy, the scowly, surly GM states "I would like for you to stop pissing on my show, but imma give you title shots anyway."
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR & THE IMPERIAL NECROMANTIC CHILDRENS' CHOIR
That piss wizard Mosh is a bell-end
And now he has backup too
Bodaggit, Turd Niblet, of course they're foul
Almost as bad as Summer the Poop
Two new figures stroll onto the scene as we move away from the resident Uromancer and our beloved bossman. Both are drawn with brown crayon with numerous green stink lines and several flies surrounding them. For some reason they have a pair of lines looking like rabbit ears sticking out of the tops of their heads. Ah! They state "We're foul and don't dye our roots!" so those are apparently literal roots.
They're identified as Danielle Page aka "Bodaggit" and "The Tall One" and Vanessa Page aka "Turd Niblet" and "The Flat One." Ah, that explains those yellow lumps on the drawings. Apparently they're chunks of corn stuck in the poo of their bodies and meant to represent their bustiness, or lack thereof in the case of Vanessa, who has a stray long, black hair sticking out of her butt.
Then a horrible monstrosity slithers into the scene, a giant pile of poop identified as Summer Page, aka "Summer the Poop" and "The "Thicc" One," who for some reason has a handlebar mustache and a bald spot. She's sporting an absolutely massive array of stink lines and a huge swarm of flies.
"Lemme tell you somethin', Spleen Gene!" she states in her text bubble, assigned the mannerisms of a certain iconic pro wrestler from the days of yore for some reason, "With the Poopster at his side, Chris Mosh has all the little fecalpheliacs in his corner, dude!"
Kalinda's trademark cerulean comes in via text to explain that she asked her scientific-type diagram graphics team to draw Summer Page as the biggest wrestling turd possible, and thus her guess as to why Summer Page is looking and talking like Hulk Hogan.
KALINDA KRIEGSDOTTIR & THE IMPERIAL NECROMANTIC CHILDRENS' CHOIR
Summer the Poop, Summer the Poop
Dirty little turdy interfering in stuff
She's Summer the Poop, Summer the Poop
Stinky, hinky, drinky moist prat
Now we pan over to a crayon ring, where Chris Mosh, with a label reading "STILL LEWD" over his privates, is piddling in the middle of the Revolution ring, a big smile on his face with one hand on his magic wand and the other gesturing dramatically in the air as he regally states that "One day you'll all thank me for pissing on you and will gleefully join the ranks of my anointed Pissciples!"
His long-time nemesis Sam Tolson, represented by a cluster of balloons with their strings tied together and sporting the Silver State Championship, scowls in annoyance at Pisstopher Moshbin.
Summer the Poop oozes down the entry ramp and up the ring steps, splashing a glass of wine in her poo-pseudopod (or poo-dopod if you will) everywhere as she drunkenly moves about. "Don't worry, Moshie!" she reassures her piddling paramour, "Summer's coming to let fecalphilia run wild all over Sam Tolson!" and then hiccups drunkenly and lets loose with a screen shaking belch.
Meanwhile a pair of dark and sinister figures emerges from the darkness. A hunchback figure with a box shaped head, far too much mascara, glowing blue eyes, one snaggletooth sticking out, and sporting a shovel is accompanied by an anthropomorphic cigarette wearing lipstick.
A caption helpfully identifies the cigarette as UPRISING's World Champion, Legion, and also as El Hijo de Mr. Butts. "This is prime, Grade-A bullshit, Igornigma!" proclaims the cigarette, "We need this so I can pull more name drops out of my ass!" he calls to the parody Engima, who is scooping up Summer's poo trail with a shovel and replies "Yeth mathter."
Just as Summer the Poop enters the ring, the screen blacks out with a label reading "FAR TOO GROSS FOR ILLUSTRATIONS" as the last lines of the song are sung.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHPS
SWINE FLEW vs THE SOCIALITES
Regan Voorhees and Danielle Page starts off in style with Page trying to slide out of the ring only to be cut off by Steve The Intern on the outside. He holds up the dangerous and dastardly pillow and Danielle turns right around into a series of vicious strikes – EYE POKE REVERSAL! Danielle slips out of the ring and starts telling Steve off, giving Regan time to follow her out and send her crashing into the ring steps. Regan rolls Danielle back into the ring. Regan springs off the ropes for a knee to the body and starts hammering away on Danielle before Ref Stef intervenes for the closed-fist strikes. Back up, Regan goes to send Danielle into the corner but she blocks, fires back with a few hard strikes – backdrop in the corner but she can't get any offense going because it's the wrong corner and Kalinda tags herself in! Tail sweep and Danielle is on her back. A few tenderizing knee drops later and she's desperately screaming for her sister to intervene. Vanessa steps through the ropes and Regan flies across with a dropkick meant for the invading sister but it was all a ruse and she drops down, sending Regan crashing into her partner. Hot tag in the Socialites corner and Vanessa and Danielle double team Kalinda as Regan rolls out of the ring, trying to shake off the impact and embarrassment of that rookie botch. Page sisters with a double springboard back elbow and Vanessa drops for a cover.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Kalinda roars with rage and flings Vanessa aside, kipping up to her feet. Kalinda is on fire (figuratively) as she launches herself at Vanessa, nailing a vicious uppercut that staggers her before following it with a spinebuster. Kalinda goes for a springboard lariat that misses the mark but she drop toe holds Danielle into the knees of Vanessa as she tags herself back in. Standing moonsault and a tail wrapped around Danielle to keep her down.
ONE!
TWO!
TH—NO!
Corner knee strike by Kalinda to Danielle and Regan hits a corner forearm to Vanessa, keeping her from going for the save as the crowd goes nuts. This is the kind of tag team wrestling everyone wants to see! Strait jacket suplex to Danielle Page and then both girls are tied up with a double bow and arrow courtesy of the champions! Back up and it's more dirty shenanigans as Page does an instep stomp on Kalinda before raking her eyes and she slings The Dragoness into the corner, looking for a shoulder block that connects before she starts chopping away at Kalinda – talons to the torso and Danielle comes away with a huge tear across her top that looks like it might be a wardrobe malfunction if this match doesn't end soon! Vanessa and Regan are fighting on the outside before Steve tosses the pillow in – KLANG! A charging Vanessa is downed and Regan shrugs as the crowd starts booing.
Danielle dropkicks the knee of Kalinda – DENIED! SHE CATCHES PAGE WITH THE KNIGHT-NIGHT OUT OF NOWHERE! Kalinda drops, hooking both legs as though she wants to make a statement but Danielle isn't even moving.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): SWINE FLEW
CUT TO:
EXT. SOMEWHERE IN RENO
The camera comes into focus and as it does we are treated to the sight of CRYSTAL ZDUNICH. She seems to be in a trance of some sort as she looks deeply into the heart of the camera. She takes a long deep breath as she begins to speak.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Good evening to everyone who might be watching this, wherever you are. I feel like I have some things that I need to get off of my chest. For starters tonight’s match is everything to me. To be honest, this is a match that I have wanted for a very long time in this company. I know you might ask why as I really haven’t had the best of luck when it has come to facing Tirri in the past, but the truth is I need to get past him once and for all.
Crystal shrugs her shoulders, forming a disgusted expression as she speaks some more.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Tirri has made my life a living hell for as long as I can remember. When it comes to him, it’s always about putting me down. It has always been about disrespecting my child’s father and I don’t appreciate being called Miss Hoover, or my ex-husband being called kiddy-fiddler Williams. Tirri can only hold onto his sex-shaming comments and I can be honest when I say my childhood was one fucked up mess. That much I won’t deny or disregard. When it comes to CCM, I will even go as far and say that I am sorry for what I put Jonathan through. He was a good man and it wasn’t even being attached to me. My personality does suck and I don’t want to hear another broken record of stupid comments about SUCKING.
Crystal quickly shakes her head.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
The thing that separates us, Tirri, is simple. Unlike you, I have held championships. Unlike you, I am considered one of the very best. I am passionate about what I do and I am indeed a woman of my word. If I lose tonight, I will leave Tirri alone. I won’t ever argue with him again. What I won't do, though? Is accept his misogynistic slut-shaming, his childish name calling. I know he will keep repeating it forever and ever and I want anyone who thinks that's acceptable, who thinks that's a fair way to treat an opponent to really and truly question themselves. You want to dish it out? You want to make yourself feel better?
She sighs, shaking her head again.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
I feel that this match is something of importance. He should be taking me seriously but instead his eyes are on champions and is too worried about what everyone else is doing.
A wicked grin appears on her lips.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
In reality his eyes should be locked solidly on me. I am the one he needs to look at but he is too fucking stubborn to really pay attention to me. He wants to hassle Luther. He wants to challenge Legion. He wants to win a championship in Level Up. He wants to take 1WM by storm. Maybe this match means more to me. To be honest, it means a lot. Unlike the man who's failed TWICE now to capture the UPRISING Championship, my eyes are locked solely on this week's opponent and overcoming him. Everything else doesn’t matter to me. I know everything else that comes with being a top-notch star would follow suit but for now I just want to put him behind me once and for all.
Crystal offers a wicked grin as she speaks some more.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Tonight, I will make you eat your words. Even if you don't, even if you can't bring yourself to suck up that ego and swallow your pride, I know the fans out there will respect me for stepping up and saying enough is enough. Best of luck. It won’t be enough, for this rose will always blossom... no matter what.
With that Crystal continues to smirk as we fade out on this image.
_____________________________________________
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Good evening to everyone who might be watching this, wherever you are. I feel like I have some things that I need to get off of my chest. For starters tonight’s match is everything to me. To be honest, this is a match that I have wanted for a very long time in this company. I know you might ask why as I really haven’t had the best of luck when it has come to facing Tirri in the past, but the truth is I need to get past him once and for all.
Crystal shrugs her shoulders, forming a disgusted expression as she speaks some more.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Tirri has made my life a living hell for as long as I can remember. When it comes to him, it’s always about putting me down. It has always been about disrespecting my child’s father and I don’t appreciate being called Miss Hoover, or my ex-husband being called kiddy-fiddler Williams. Tirri can only hold onto his sex-shaming comments and I can be honest when I say my childhood was one fucked up mess. That much I won’t deny or disregard. When it comes to CCM, I will even go as far and say that I am sorry for what I put Jonathan through. He was a good man and it wasn’t even being attached to me. My personality does suck and I don’t want to hear another broken record of stupid comments about SUCKING.
Crystal quickly shakes her head.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
The thing that separates us, Tirri, is simple. Unlike you, I have held championships. Unlike you, I am considered one of the very best. I am passionate about what I do and I am indeed a woman of my word. If I lose tonight, I will leave Tirri alone. I won’t ever argue with him again. What I won't do, though? Is accept his misogynistic slut-shaming, his childish name calling. I know he will keep repeating it forever and ever and I want anyone who thinks that's acceptable, who thinks that's a fair way to treat an opponent to really and truly question themselves. You want to dish it out? You want to make yourself feel better?
She sighs, shaking her head again.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
I feel that this match is something of importance. He should be taking me seriously but instead his eyes are on champions and is too worried about what everyone else is doing.
A wicked grin appears on her lips.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
In reality his eyes should be locked solidly on me. I am the one he needs to look at but he is too fucking stubborn to really pay attention to me. He wants to hassle Luther. He wants to challenge Legion. He wants to win a championship in Level Up. He wants to take 1WM by storm. Maybe this match means more to me. To be honest, it means a lot. Unlike the man who's failed TWICE now to capture the UPRISING Championship, my eyes are locked solely on this week's opponent and overcoming him. Everything else doesn’t matter to me. I know everything else that comes with being a top-notch star would follow suit but for now I just want to put him behind me once and for all.
Crystal offers a wicked grin as she speaks some more.
CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Tonight, I will make you eat your words. Even if you don't, even if you can't bring yourself to suck up that ego and swallow your pride, I know the fans out there will respect me for stepping up and saying enough is enough. Best of luck. It won’t be enough, for this rose will always blossom... no matter what.
With that Crystal continues to smirk as we fade out on this image.
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. ELDORADO CASINO -- BACKSTAGE
DON TIRRI vs CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Crystal looks furious as she comes in swinging, nailing a series of forearm strikes, followed by a few kicks to the legs to drive Tirri back. He's eating the offense, looking like he expected this. She goes for a whip off the ropes and is reversed, ducking a telegraphed lariat on the rebound. After a standing dropkick, she hits a standing shooting star press and hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW—NOPE!
Pulling him back up, she's cut off with a body shot and Tirri goes for a cheap eye rake – Crystal tries to block it, but it was a fakeout and he sweeps her legs out from under her and slams her down over his knee! He goes to stomp on the back of her head but she rolls quickly out of the way and kicks the side of his knee. Tirri goes down on one knee as it gives out on him – basement dropkick to the face! Tirri rolls back to his feet, clutching his jaw and Crystal sends him into the corner. She goes for a Yakuza kick, which he avoids. Grabbing her planted leg from behind, he pulls it out, sending her crashing face first to the mat before stomping away at her before dropping a knee in the middle of her back. She screams and he hooks her legs and slaps her sides before hooking her arms – MEXICAN SURFBOARD AND CRYSTAL IS STILL SCREAMING IN AGONY BEFORE TIRRI FLINGS HER ASIDE LIKE A RAGDOLL! Back up, he starts stomping a mudhole in her, before Neil Rana pulls him back to give Crystal space, checking to make sure she can continue and she spits in his face for even asking. Tirri waits until she's up and comes in with a running European uppercut into the corner that turns into a hard shoulder block. She sags and he stomps on her midsection before kneeing her right in the face – OH HELL NO! SHE'S GOT A HANDFUL OF HIS PRIVATE PARTS AND SHE GIVES THEM A SQUEEZE TO GET TIRRI TO BACK OFF!
Letting her back up, Don fires off a series of jabs, then goes to the body. After a knee to the sternum that doubles her over. He performs an inverted atomic drop, then knocks her down with a shoulder tackle. As he tries for a discus double chop, she grabs one of his arms and tries to pull him down into a Fujiwara armbar. He turns to his back and powers her off with his legs, but eats a big superkick as he gets back up. Crystal stays on the attack, lighting him up with stiff leg kicks before Tirri slips around beside her – DADDY-DT! Crystal's down and he's got Daddy's Chokeout (seated high-angle sleeper hold) locked in before the sound of the impact even fades. Crystal refuses to tap, driving her elbow over and over into Tirri's body parts before the hold loosens up enough and he lets go, frustrated. He goes to nail a knee to the back of her head but she dives aside and instead Tirri stumbles forward, right into a cheap rollup! SHE'S GOT A HOLD OF HIS WAISTBAND, FEET ON THE ROPES BUT NEIL RANA DOESN'T NOTICE AND HE COUNTS IT!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Crystal rolls out of the ring, not waiting to have her hand raised and she's already backing up the ramp when Don Tirri rises, looking like he wants to commit murder. It's only then that Crystal lets the triumph show on her face with a grin, soaking in the noise of the crowd's mixed reaction.
We go to the back where Griffin is sitting on the steps leading downstairs to the lower level tier ballroom seating, dressed in leather pants and a Cobra Kai T-Shirt. He seems to be in a laid back mood as he just sits there, looking straight at the cameraman.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
How did I find myself in a Silver State Title Match? I haven't even been here long...haven't even been pinned or submitted yet...and I find myself facing Sam Tolson for the Silver State Title. It's as if the Metal Gods from Valhalla have blessed me with this once in a lifetime chance! But truthfully..I've earned it. I went through two of the top athletes in UPRISING just to get this very shot at the gold. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a penchant of getting gold around my waist. The Silver State belt is no different. Chances like this don't come around often...and I'm looking to make the best of this opportunity.
He slowly gets up.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
There is no doubt in anybody's mind, Sam Tolson, that you are a fighting champion. You've indeed proven yourself worthy of holding that belt that you carry so proudly around your shoulder. It was stolen from you before by Chris Mosh...only for you to win it back. Since then you have not looked back and you've looked ahead to fight whoever is in front of you. That I can respect....but as much as I respect you, you got something that I want. Something that I want to add to my ever-growing trophy case of belts that I have collected over the years, the Silver State Title. And tonight....it's time for us to see who walks out the Champion.
He begins walking down the stairs.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
I believe it was the late great Brandon Lee that once said..the key to immortality is first living a life worth remembering. You indeed have left a mark on the business, Sam. Many titles you've amassed over the years....but as long as we have been in the sport, we have never crossed paths with one another. Sure we've shared a few locker rooms...but never have we stood across from one another in that very ring. I'm looking to make this first ever meeting memorable when I bring my brand of Heavy Metal to derail the Murder Machine as I look to leave here tonight with my first title.
A smile comes across his face.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
This isn't personal, Sam. I got no beef with you. But I made it my mission to climb the top of the ladder here in UPRISING. Unlike Mosh, I respect you and where you brought yourself to get that gold. The other difference between me and him is I believe in a fair fight to the finish instead of hiding behind some bitch to get the job done. Tonight is a huge night for both of us. A title match between two of the best in the sport today...but only one of us leaves with the title. Tonight..it's time for the Murder Machine to get ROCKED.
With a smile he walks past the cameraman as we head back to the ring for the next match.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
How did I find myself in a Silver State Title Match? I haven't even been here long...haven't even been pinned or submitted yet...and I find myself facing Sam Tolson for the Silver State Title. It's as if the Metal Gods from Valhalla have blessed me with this once in a lifetime chance! But truthfully..I've earned it. I went through two of the top athletes in UPRISING just to get this very shot at the gold. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a penchant of getting gold around my waist. The Silver State belt is no different. Chances like this don't come around often...and I'm looking to make the best of this opportunity.
He slowly gets up.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
There is no doubt in anybody's mind, Sam Tolson, that you are a fighting champion. You've indeed proven yourself worthy of holding that belt that you carry so proudly around your shoulder. It was stolen from you before by Chris Mosh...only for you to win it back. Since then you have not looked back and you've looked ahead to fight whoever is in front of you. That I can respect....but as much as I respect you, you got something that I want. Something that I want to add to my ever-growing trophy case of belts that I have collected over the years, the Silver State Title. And tonight....it's time for us to see who walks out the Champion.
He begins walking down the stairs.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
I believe it was the late great Brandon Lee that once said..the key to immortality is first living a life worth remembering. You indeed have left a mark on the business, Sam. Many titles you've amassed over the years....but as long as we have been in the sport, we have never crossed paths with one another. Sure we've shared a few locker rooms...but never have we stood across from one another in that very ring. I'm looking to make this first ever meeting memorable when I bring my brand of Heavy Metal to derail the Murder Machine as I look to leave here tonight with my first title.
A smile comes across his face.
GRIFFIN HAWKINS
This isn't personal, Sam. I got no beef with you. But I made it my mission to climb the top of the ladder here in UPRISING. Unlike Mosh, I respect you and where you brought yourself to get that gold. The other difference between me and him is I believe in a fair fight to the finish instead of hiding behind some bitch to get the job done. Tonight is a huge night for both of us. A title match between two of the best in the sport today...but only one of us leaves with the title. Tonight..it's time for the Murder Machine to get ROCKED.
With a smile he walks past the cameraman as we head back to the ring for the next match.
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
DON TIRRI vs CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Crystal looks furious as she comes in swinging, nailing a series of forearm strikes, followed by a few kicks to the legs to drive Tirri back. He's eating the offense, looking like he expected this. She goes for a whip off the ropes and is reversed, ducking a telegraphed lariat on the rebound. After a standing dropkick, she hits a standing shooting star press and hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW—NOPE!
Pulling him back up, she's cut off with a body shot and Tirri goes for a cheap eye rake – Crystal tries to block it, but it was a fakeout and he sweeps her legs out from under her and slams her down over his knee! He goes to stomp on the back of her head but she rolls quickly out of the way and kicks the side of his knee. Tirri goes down on one knee as it gives out on him – basement dropkick to the face! Tirri rolls back to his feet, clutching his jaw and Crystal sends him into the corner. She goes for a Yakuza kick, which he avoids. Grabbing her planted leg from behind, he pulls it out, sending her crashing face first to the mat before stomping away at her before dropping a knee in the middle of her back. She screams and he hooks her legs and slaps her sides before hooking her arms – MEXICAN SURFBOARD AND CRYSTAL IS STILL SCREAMING IN AGONY BEFORE TIRRI FLINGS HER ASIDE LIKE A RAGDOLL! Back up, he starts stomping a mudhole in her, before Neil Rana pulls him back to give Crystal space, checking to make sure she can continue and she spits in his face for even asking. Tirri waits until she's up and comes in with a running European uppercut into the corner that turns into a hard shoulder block. She sags and he stomps on her midsection before kneeing her right in the face – OH HELL NO! SHE'S GOT A HANDFUL OF HIS PRIVATE PARTS AND SHE GIVES THEM A SQUEEZE TO GET TIRRI TO BACK OFF!
Letting her back up, Don fires off a series of jabs, then goes to the body. After a knee to the sternum that doubles her over. He performs an inverted atomic drop, then knocks her down with a shoulder tackle. As he tries for a discus double chop, she grabs one of his arms and tries to pull him down into a Fujiwara armbar. He turns to his back and powers her off with his legs, but eats a big superkick as he gets back up. Crystal stays on the attack, lighting him up with stiff leg kicks before Tirri slips around beside her – DADDY-DT! Crystal's down and he's got Daddy's Chokeout (seated high-angle sleeper hold) locked in before the sound of the impact even fades. Crystal refuses to tap, driving her elbow over and over into Tirri's body parts before the hold loosens up enough and he lets go, frustrated. He goes to nail a knee to the back of her head but she dives aside and instead Tirri stumbles forward, right into a cheap rollup! SHE'S GOT A HOLD OF HIS WAISTBAND, FEET ON THE ROPES BUT NEIL RANA DOESN'T NOTICE AND HE COUNTS IT!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER (VIA PINFALL): CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
Crystal rolls out of the ring, not waiting to have her hand raised and she's already backing up the ramp when Don Tirri rises, looking like he wants to commit murder. It's only then that Crystal lets the triumph show on her face with a grin, soaking in the noise of the crowd's mixed reaction.
CUT TO:
INT. RINGSIDE -- CONTINUOUS
'Face to the Floor' by Chevelle hits the speakers at the Silver State Ballroom, and fans go berserk when an all too familiar face walks out behind that curtain and down the ramp. For the first time in a year, TONY SAVAGE is back in a ring on American soil, and he is soaking in the love he's getting from this audience. The man looks healthy and ballin': watches on both wrists, couple rings, and a chain with some ice cubes for stones in it. He takes a few moments to slap hands and soak it up, feeling good after everything, he still can get a pop wherever he goes. Tony slides into the ring, thanks the attendant as he's handed the mic, then puts it up to his lips.
TONY SAVAGE
Tell ya I feel like a million bucks after that pop, but, that would mean I'd take a pay-cut!
(looks at his jewelry)
2 watches, 2 rings, and the rope 'round my neck. Somebody speaking Broke-a-nese tried to chide me for being "too materialistic!" Felt like i needed Google Translate to talk to this knucklehead. I told them…
He holds out the chain.
TONY SAVAGE
…no wonder people like you bump gums without any teeth; you didn't listen to your dentist and floss every day like me!
That gets a chuckle, as Tony carries on, the cheers of "Come Fight Night" kicking up until he calmly waves them down.
TONY SAVAGE
Honestly, though, thank you for that pop. But, tonight isn't about me. Tonight, and until further notice, I'm part of the Uprising family as support. Support for my boy Griff....
Big ol' pop from the crowd on cue.
TONY SAVAGE
…as he tries to snatch his own hardware off the waist of Tolson's badass.
Another predictable pop for the headliner match and the reigning Silver State Champion.
TONY SAVAGE
The only other person on Twitter even MORE obsessed about photobombing the motherfucker off the map than me on a daily basis.
He sticks his tongue out.
TONY SAVAGE
But enough about that. I'm also here to introduce personally somebody who isn't going to just make an impact, they're going to be a figurative (and literal, big bastard) asteroid about to hit the industry. So, I'm about to get out of its path and let him give you a sneak peek of how a true kaiju stomps...AARYAN, BUDDY…
He turns and points to the entrance tunnel.
TONY SAVAGE
Show these folks how rakshasas breathe fire on a mic!
On cue, 'This is England' by Kano hits the air, and the big boy monster from East London stomps out, smirking. In his hand is a large duffle with "Ravana's Big Bag of Hindi Stereotype Swag" stenciled on it. The man is a smiling monolith, slapping hands before he flings the bag over the top rope into the ring. he then stands by the edge of the apron, bends his knees a bit, and leaps onto the apron with just a standing vertical jump, no running start. He rolls over the top rope and onto his feet, taking the mic as Tony shakes his hand, leaving the ring to watch from the side as ring attendants pull out what looks like a crash test dummy from under the ring.
RAVANA
Oi, Biggest Little City on Earth!
Cheap pop.
RAVANA
Regards from East London, grimiest big city on Earth. I wanted to take time to discuss, well.... stereotypes and misconceptions. Trust me, I'm an expert on this, being a big bastard muscle boy with a little old country still in his voice. Hindis (not Hindus; one's a people, the other a religion) endure a LOT of bollocks! Take, for example, this shit.
First prop out the bag: a brass incense burner and beaded seat cover.
RAVANA
Yup, mates; the Dopinder from Deadpool starter kit. You don't know how many times idiots ask me if I drive a cab. Yes. Yes, we all do, after we finish our shift at the call center or sell bootleg jewelry on a bloody low rent shopping channel!
He drags out a rolled-up yoga mat.
RAVANA
Supposedly, according to sources that are completely off-base, not all Hindis know yoga. Shit, Tony's wife recommended a joint not far from their house to learn it. Little secret: most of us are just as stiff and inflexible as you!
Out comes packets of tikka and curry spice mixes and he tosses those down, salt bae style.
RAVANA
Supposedly this is all we eat. Wankers act like we put curry in our Starbucks and eat rice and masala 24/7! Oh, and some aspiring Karen with a Trump bumper sticker on her minivan made this assumption we were ALL Hindu's as if we never found out there were other religions out there. Made her trip out of her Maybelline makeup when I broke one of these bastards out.
From the bag, he whips out a Baconator from Wendy's and unwraps it, savoring that fatty, greasy, swine stacked goodness.
RAVANA
I may not be a practising Hindu, but this cow is sacred! SO GOOD!
The crowd is digging this as he produces a photo of a kid in Dharavi, sifting through trash.
RAVANA
Supposedly, we're all supposed to poor but happy in India. Yup.
(shaking his head sadly)
…because everyone who has to face poverty, famine, and getting your ass busted up by the police because you don't exactly fit their criteria makes us all giddy enough to produce a Bollywood dance number!
People are rolling! This guy is just cranking up the sarcasm. Then, he reaches down to pick up a photo, and he looks at it, rolling his eyes.
RAVANA
Then, there are comparisons to THIS cartoon cunt!
He shows them a picture of THIS GUY!
RAVANA
Way to brownface it up, Hollywood. Do you know how many assholes I run into doing that impression or asking me if I know how to fix a Slurpee machine? It's enough to really want to breathe fire down an idiot's throat!
He rips it to shreds and scatters the pieces.
RAVANA
But, being a thunder hoss also has its set of stereotypes, and between that big boring blob in the Slipknot mask, and Frau Cantankerous throwing a fit because not all the villagers would kiss her ass or run in fear because she can bench a Volvo but can't bench her pride online over a few quips, wrestling fans think guys like me are "RRRARGH RRRARGH HULK SMASH ME NO HAVE HUMOR SENSE!" 24/7! Then people like me have to hear it, and frankly... this industry is in need of a new type of kaiju!
More items come out of the bag: a turntable and Beats By Dre Headphones.
RAVANA
Unlike those colossal cookie cutters, I'm a different breed of monster. I create monster beats in a studio...
Textbooks on economics are next.
RAVANA
I rampage the books because even though I love this industry, I decided to be a smarter, better man with a backup while the rest of these Lycra monkeys put all their chips in a business that could end like THAT.
He snaps his fingers and then looks at the mic.
RAVANA
This monster mashes it like an HBO comedy special. Basically, I don't do it like other monster trucks in trainers; I'm a DIFFERENTLY breed of titan. I'm the new Godzilla of the game here in Reno. This is MY Tokyo I'm stomping through. And if you think you're a beast...
He sneers into the hard camera.
RAVANA
You'll find out I don't just spit fire on a mic; I'll blast it down your throats until you burn in this ring!
Mic drop, and he hit a lick with the Ballroom. Tony takes the opportunity to slide in the dummy, yelling "time to fly, big man!" Ravana smirks and slides it some distance until it's about 10 feet from a turnbuckle. He puts the mic down, climbs his way up the turnbuckle. he carefully measures himself, then...
Airborne with a surprisingly pretty moonsault! Unlike certain blonde hosses at a PPV, he hit the mark! He rolls away as fans bug out seeing a jumbo jet barrel roll like that, taking a moment to gather himself to pick up the mic and leave a final message.
RAVANA
(smirking)
What's a Puerto Rican murder spirit compared to a demon; especially one that can fly, too!
Both Tony and Ravana climb over the barrier, taking a few of the empty seats next to ringside as though they truly have come to witness the next match up close and personal. And now, it's time for our final contest of the evening!
MAIN EVENT: SILVER STATE CHAMPIONSHIP
SAMANTHA TOLSON (c) vs GRIFFIN HAWKINS
The pair dive into the tie-up straight off the bell, but Samantha hits Griffin with a kick to the gut before they connect and whips Griffin Hawkins into the corner. She shrives a shoulder into his midsection a couple times and then eats a quick sucker punch that gets Griffin the space he needs – HE SLIPS OUT AND NAILS TOLSON WITH A SPINNING BACK KICK AND THEN FOLLOWS WITH SOME MARTIAL ARTS KICKS IN THE CORNER WHILE THE CROWD GOES NUTS! Samantha Tolson takes each blow and then battles through, taking Hawkins over with a snap suplex – he's back up in an instant and Tolson throws him into the ropes, dropping Griffin on his face with a flapjack then hits the ropes with a low dropkick to her face, sending him sprawling and she pounces, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Griffin kicks out and Samantha responds by dragging Griffin up by the hair, going to send him off to the ropes again – backfist reversal into a swinging neckbreaker but Tolson is up immediately, and she charges in but Hawkins pulls the top rope down, dropping to his knees and sends the Silver State Champion over the top. Tolson skins the cat, landing on the apron and she staggers Griffin with a huge right hand as he straightens up and turns around. Tolson leaps onto the top rope and takes Griffin down with an impressive springboard hurricanrana that has her opponent dazed and confused. VICTORY DROP ALPHA OUT OF NOWHERE AND TOLSON DROPS FOR THE PIN!
ONE!
TWO!
THR—NO! HOLY SHIT, GRIFFIN HAWKINS JUST KICKED OUT AND THE CROWD CAN'T BELIEVE IT!
Samantha looks frustrated as she sits up and then Griffin rolls her back into a choke with body scissors! Reversal and now Griffin's shoulders are pinned, despite the choke – reversal again and now it's a sleeper hold, and Samantha Tolson shows off her upper body strength by fighting to her feet. Griffin wraps his legs around Tolson’s torso as soon as she’s upright. Ref Stef checks for any sign that Samantha might be willing to give in, but she makes a sudden charge backwards, driving Griffin back-first into the turnbuckle hard enough to break the hold. With Griffin against the turnbuckle, Samantha quickly smashes an elbow to the side of the head. Griffin slumps back and Tolson lays into him with some knife-edged chops. The booing of the crowd alerts her well before anything can happen and she stops the assault, turning towards the ramp to see Chris Mosh halfway towards the ring, wielding a steel chair and looking determined. Tolson turns away from the distraction and right into a kick to the face. She's dazed and Griffin connects with the GLAM SLAM! HOLY SHIT! MOSH IS ALMOST AT THE RING AND THEN SUDDENLY THE BOOS FOR HIS ARRIVAL TURN INTO LOUD CHEERS. Griffin Hawkins drops for the pinfall at the exact same moment as Gaston Gillet sprints down the ramp, colliding with Mosh from behind. The chair flies from his grasp, crashing down on Hawkins and Tolson just as Ref Stef gets into position to count and she immediately calls for the bell, even as Gaston Gillet is laying a good ol' fashioned American beatdown on the villainous Mosh at ringside.
WINNER: NO CONTEST
TONY SAVAGE
Tell ya I feel like a million bucks after that pop, but, that would mean I'd take a pay-cut!
(looks at his jewelry)
2 watches, 2 rings, and the rope 'round my neck. Somebody speaking Broke-a-nese tried to chide me for being "too materialistic!" Felt like i needed Google Translate to talk to this knucklehead. I told them…
He holds out the chain.
TONY SAVAGE
…no wonder people like you bump gums without any teeth; you didn't listen to your dentist and floss every day like me!
That gets a chuckle, as Tony carries on, the cheers of "Come Fight Night" kicking up until he calmly waves them down.
TONY SAVAGE
Honestly, though, thank you for that pop. But, tonight isn't about me. Tonight, and until further notice, I'm part of the Uprising family as support. Support for my boy Griff....
Big ol' pop from the crowd on cue.
TONY SAVAGE
…as he tries to snatch his own hardware off the waist of Tolson's badass.
Another predictable pop for the headliner match and the reigning Silver State Champion.
TONY SAVAGE
The only other person on Twitter even MORE obsessed about photobombing the motherfucker off the map than me on a daily basis.
He sticks his tongue out.
TONY SAVAGE
But enough about that. I'm also here to introduce personally somebody who isn't going to just make an impact, they're going to be a figurative (and literal, big bastard) asteroid about to hit the industry. So, I'm about to get out of its path and let him give you a sneak peek of how a true kaiju stomps...AARYAN, BUDDY…
He turns and points to the entrance tunnel.
TONY SAVAGE
Show these folks how rakshasas breathe fire on a mic!
On cue, 'This is England' by Kano hits the air, and the big boy monster from East London stomps out, smirking. In his hand is a large duffle with "Ravana's Big Bag of Hindi Stereotype Swag" stenciled on it. The man is a smiling monolith, slapping hands before he flings the bag over the top rope into the ring. he then stands by the edge of the apron, bends his knees a bit, and leaps onto the apron with just a standing vertical jump, no running start. He rolls over the top rope and onto his feet, taking the mic as Tony shakes his hand, leaving the ring to watch from the side as ring attendants pull out what looks like a crash test dummy from under the ring.
RAVANA
Oi, Biggest Little City on Earth!
Cheap pop.
RAVANA
Regards from East London, grimiest big city on Earth. I wanted to take time to discuss, well.... stereotypes and misconceptions. Trust me, I'm an expert on this, being a big bastard muscle boy with a little old country still in his voice. Hindis (not Hindus; one's a people, the other a religion) endure a LOT of bollocks! Take, for example, this shit.
First prop out the bag: a brass incense burner and beaded seat cover.
RAVANA
Yup, mates; the Dopinder from Deadpool starter kit. You don't know how many times idiots ask me if I drive a cab. Yes. Yes, we all do, after we finish our shift at the call center or sell bootleg jewelry on a bloody low rent shopping channel!
He drags out a rolled-up yoga mat.
RAVANA
Supposedly, according to sources that are completely off-base, not all Hindis know yoga. Shit, Tony's wife recommended a joint not far from their house to learn it. Little secret: most of us are just as stiff and inflexible as you!
Out comes packets of tikka and curry spice mixes and he tosses those down, salt bae style.
RAVANA
Supposedly this is all we eat. Wankers act like we put curry in our Starbucks and eat rice and masala 24/7! Oh, and some aspiring Karen with a Trump bumper sticker on her minivan made this assumption we were ALL Hindu's as if we never found out there were other religions out there. Made her trip out of her Maybelline makeup when I broke one of these bastards out.
From the bag, he whips out a Baconator from Wendy's and unwraps it, savoring that fatty, greasy, swine stacked goodness.
RAVANA
I may not be a practising Hindu, but this cow is sacred! SO GOOD!
The crowd is digging this as he produces a photo of a kid in Dharavi, sifting through trash.
RAVANA
Supposedly, we're all supposed to poor but happy in India. Yup.
(shaking his head sadly)
…because everyone who has to face poverty, famine, and getting your ass busted up by the police because you don't exactly fit their criteria makes us all giddy enough to produce a Bollywood dance number!
People are rolling! This guy is just cranking up the sarcasm. Then, he reaches down to pick up a photo, and he looks at it, rolling his eyes.
RAVANA
Then, there are comparisons to THIS cartoon cunt!
He shows them a picture of THIS GUY!
RAVANA
Way to brownface it up, Hollywood. Do you know how many assholes I run into doing that impression or asking me if I know how to fix a Slurpee machine? It's enough to really want to breathe fire down an idiot's throat!
He rips it to shreds and scatters the pieces.
RAVANA
But, being a thunder hoss also has its set of stereotypes, and between that big boring blob in the Slipknot mask, and Frau Cantankerous throwing a fit because not all the villagers would kiss her ass or run in fear because she can bench a Volvo but can't bench her pride online over a few quips, wrestling fans think guys like me are "RRRARGH RRRARGH HULK SMASH ME NO HAVE HUMOR SENSE!" 24/7! Then people like me have to hear it, and frankly... this industry is in need of a new type of kaiju!
More items come out of the bag: a turntable and Beats By Dre Headphones.
RAVANA
Unlike those colossal cookie cutters, I'm a different breed of monster. I create monster beats in a studio...
Textbooks on economics are next.
RAVANA
I rampage the books because even though I love this industry, I decided to be a smarter, better man with a backup while the rest of these Lycra monkeys put all their chips in a business that could end like THAT.
He snaps his fingers and then looks at the mic.
RAVANA
This monster mashes it like an HBO comedy special. Basically, I don't do it like other monster trucks in trainers; I'm a DIFFERENTLY breed of titan. I'm the new Godzilla of the game here in Reno. This is MY Tokyo I'm stomping through. And if you think you're a beast...
He sneers into the hard camera.
RAVANA
You'll find out I don't just spit fire on a mic; I'll blast it down your throats until you burn in this ring!
Mic drop, and he hit a lick with the Ballroom. Tony takes the opportunity to slide in the dummy, yelling "time to fly, big man!" Ravana smirks and slides it some distance until it's about 10 feet from a turnbuckle. He puts the mic down, climbs his way up the turnbuckle. he carefully measures himself, then...
Airborne with a surprisingly pretty moonsault! Unlike certain blonde hosses at a PPV, he hit the mark! He rolls away as fans bug out seeing a jumbo jet barrel roll like that, taking a moment to gather himself to pick up the mic and leave a final message.
RAVANA
(smirking)
What's a Puerto Rican murder spirit compared to a demon; especially one that can fly, too!
Both Tony and Ravana climb over the barrier, taking a few of the empty seats next to ringside as though they truly have come to witness the next match up close and personal. And now, it's time for our final contest of the evening!
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM -- THE RING
MAIN EVENT: SILVER STATE CHAMPIONSHIP
SAMANTHA TOLSON (c) vs GRIFFIN HAWKINS
The pair dive into the tie-up straight off the bell, but Samantha hits Griffin with a kick to the gut before they connect and whips Griffin Hawkins into the corner. She shrives a shoulder into his midsection a couple times and then eats a quick sucker punch that gets Griffin the space he needs – HE SLIPS OUT AND NAILS TOLSON WITH A SPINNING BACK KICK AND THEN FOLLOWS WITH SOME MARTIAL ARTS KICKS IN THE CORNER WHILE THE CROWD GOES NUTS! Samantha Tolson takes each blow and then battles through, taking Hawkins over with a snap suplex – he's back up in an instant and Tolson throws him into the ropes, dropping Griffin on his face with a flapjack then hits the ropes with a low dropkick to her face, sending him sprawling and she pounces, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TW—NO!
Griffin kicks out and Samantha responds by dragging Griffin up by the hair, going to send him off to the ropes again – backfist reversal into a swinging neckbreaker but Tolson is up immediately, and she charges in but Hawkins pulls the top rope down, dropping to his knees and sends the Silver State Champion over the top. Tolson skins the cat, landing on the apron and she staggers Griffin with a huge right hand as he straightens up and turns around. Tolson leaps onto the top rope and takes Griffin down with an impressive springboard hurricanrana that has her opponent dazed and confused. VICTORY DROP ALPHA OUT OF NOWHERE AND TOLSON DROPS FOR THE PIN!
ONE!
TWO!
THR—NO! HOLY SHIT, GRIFFIN HAWKINS JUST KICKED OUT AND THE CROWD CAN'T BELIEVE IT!
Samantha looks frustrated as she sits up and then Griffin rolls her back into a choke with body scissors! Reversal and now Griffin's shoulders are pinned, despite the choke – reversal again and now it's a sleeper hold, and Samantha Tolson shows off her upper body strength by fighting to her feet. Griffin wraps his legs around Tolson’s torso as soon as she’s upright. Ref Stef checks for any sign that Samantha might be willing to give in, but she makes a sudden charge backwards, driving Griffin back-first into the turnbuckle hard enough to break the hold. With Griffin against the turnbuckle, Samantha quickly smashes an elbow to the side of the head. Griffin slumps back and Tolson lays into him with some knife-edged chops. The booing of the crowd alerts her well before anything can happen and she stops the assault, turning towards the ramp to see Chris Mosh halfway towards the ring, wielding a steel chair and looking determined. Tolson turns away from the distraction and right into a kick to the face. She's dazed and Griffin connects with the GLAM SLAM! HOLY SHIT! MOSH IS ALMOST AT THE RING AND THEN SUDDENLY THE BOOS FOR HIS ARRIVAL TURN INTO LOUD CHEERS. Griffin Hawkins drops for the pinfall at the exact same moment as Gaston Gillet sprints down the ramp, colliding with Mosh from behind. The chair flies from his grasp, crashing down on Hawkins and Tolson just as Ref Stef gets into position to count and she immediately calls for the bell, even as Gaston Gillet is laying a good ol' fashioned American beatdown on the villainous Mosh at ringside.
WINNER: NO CONTEST
Gaston Gillet and Chris Mosh are still brawling on the ramp and Samantha Tolson staggers up to her feet and holds out her hand to Griffin Hawkins, helping him up. She holds his hand up as the crowd pops for the show of good sportsmanship, getting louder as Chris Mosh finally stays down. The moment ends with Gaston Gillet standing tall with his eyes on the ring, watching as Tolson takes her belt back from Ref Stef and fastens it around her waist. She looks up the ramp and the pair lock eyes, the meaning clear: there may not have been a new champion tonight, but there might be one soon.
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
CUT TO:
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM — THE RING
INT. THE SILVER STATE BALLROOM — THE RING
"FOCUS" BY HOCUS POCUS IS PLAYING.
Standing in the center of the ring is the Monster Machine Enigma. In one hand he’s holding a microphone and in the other the Staff of Spiral which is adorned at the apex with the purported mummified head of Legion’s father. Four Nameless Ghouls from the Church of the Seventh Circle stand behind him. As the music fades out he lifts the microphone.
ENIGMA
Two weeks ago you all witnessed the transcendence of a man to something more when LEGION, our savior, achieved greatness when he defeated not one, not two, but nine of the best men and women UPRISING has to offer, winning Terrordome 3.0 and becoming your champion.
He’s nearly drowned out by the drone of the thousands in attendance all booing at once. The Monster Machine whips his head around, looking out over the sea of faces.
ENIGMA
SHUT UP. Show some RESPECT.
The heckles only grow louder. Enigma marches around the ring, yelling at the fans lucky enough to be sitting at ringside. He stops at the hard camera side and points out a man on the second row.
FOCUS ON: the fan. He’s holding a sign which reads LEGION FEARS JC.
FOCUS ON: the fan. He’s holding a sign which reads LEGION FEARS JC.
Enigma says something to one of the Nameless Ghouls, who then immediately drops out of the ring, walks to the guardrail and reaches out to take away the sign. A small scuffle breaks out, as the fans try to save it, but the Ghoul gets a hold of it and tears the poster board into pieces. They then toss the pieces into the air, letting them rain down to the floor before returning to the ring.
ENIGMA
Now I want everyone in this building to get on your feet, because it is my honor and privilege to introduce to you for the first time your world heavyweight champion. LEGION!
"SHADOW OF THE WIND" BY BLACK SABBATH PLAYS.
The house lights go out. All eyes go to the entrance as strobing lights illuminate a dark figure in spasming flashes. It is Legion, dressed in his cassock and Devil In Black mask. Draped over his shoulder is the UPRISING World Championship.
He walks down the aisle to the beat of the music while being assaulted by middle fingers and other vulgarities all the way to the ring where he ascends the steel steps. After pausing a moment to look around he takes three steps down the apron and ducks under the rope which one of the Nameless Ghouls is holding open for him.
Legion stands and takes his place in the middle of the ring next to Enigma. The music fades away and Enigma shouts into the microphone over the angry fans.
ENIGMA
I said get on your feet and give your champion the welcome he deserves!
Legion looks around the ballroom from behind the mask. The camera sweeps across the audience at countless scowling faces. Back in the ring, Enigma lifts the microphone back to his mouth.
ENIGMA
Unfortunately at SOLSTICE, Legion suffered an injury to his throat which has currently rendered him unable to speak. So he asked me to read to you from a note that he wrote only moments ago.
Enigma turns to take a folded piece of paper from one of the Nameless Ghouls. He unfolds the note and holds it up to read.
ENIGMA
It says, "I told you so".
Legion nods firmly. As Enigma crumples the paper up the ballroom fills with tumultuous anger from the thousands in attendance.
ENIGMA
And on a personal note, I want to say to the Don Tirri’s of the world, this man is the champion, whether you like it or not. Now, hit his music!
Music rocks the ballroom but it’s not Black Sabbath.
"SHE’S A GENIUS" BY JET PLAYS.
Enigma, the ghouls and Legion turn all at once to the entrance. The audience must recognize the music because they react wildly even before the spotlights converge on a woman walking out from backstage. Everyone in the building knows who she is. She’s the reigning Blazenwing Wrestling Federation World Champion, Nessa Wall, and she has a microphone in hand. Her blonde hair is braided in rows to the back of her head before spilling freely down her neck in textured curls. She’s wearing a black shag jacket over a leather corset, with matching skin-tight pants and high-heeled studded boots. The gold and black leather BWF world title is around her waist.
As her song fades out, the house lights rise. Enigma is shouting at her from the ring which gets picked up by the mic still in his hand at his side.
ENIGMA
(off mic)
What are you doing here?! Get out of here!
Nessa’s lips narrow into a sharp smile. She waits for the audience to slowly quiet down before speaking.
NESSA
I’m here because that is not Legion. That is an imposter.
The crowd erupts. In the ring, the man presented as Legion shakes his head and points at the belt around his waist. Enigma lifts his mic.
ENIGMA
How dare you. This is Legion. A REAL world champion, unlike you.
NESSA
You are nothing more than a pathetic liar attempting to curry favor by marching out this masquerading fool because you think that is what Legion wants. You think you understand him but you’re no different than any of the other fools in the locker room, huddled around TVs watching you parade around this pathetic imitation. Worst of all, you lied to Jackson to get your hands on that belt which hangs over the shoulder of a pretender to the throne.
ENIGMA
You are wrong. This is the Devil In Black. So how about you walk your ass out of here and go back to BWF where you belong.
NESSA
Ask me how.
ENIGMA
How what?
NESSA
How I know that isn’t Legion.
ENIGMA
Okay. First of all, this is Legion, but sure, I will play along. How do you know that this is not the real Legion?
NESSA
Because the real Legion is standing backstage.
The crowd erupts chaotically as many of the boos are beginning to give way to cheers. Enigma looks around wide-eyed and slack jawed. The FAKE Legion jerks his head back and forth. Though he’s wearing a mask, his fear is evident by his body language as he starts to leave the ring, only to get yanked back in by Enigma and told he’s not going anywhere.
Back to Nessa, she looks across the ballroom, from the cheap seats at the top down to the faces surrounding the ring side.
NESSA
Stand now for you are all here to bear witness to the man who returns a king. The man who didn’t just survive the Terrordome but conquered it, using each of his opponents who sought the crown as mere stepping stones on his ascension to greatness. Rise and bow your heads in reverence for you are the sheep and he is your shepherd. He is the one who will deliver you from your hopeless lives and give you purpose or drown you in the river of your frailties. Like a thousand burning suns he will light your way. Take the path he offers you or burn alive in his glorious radiance. The choice is yours. He is your savior. He is your king. He is the DESTROYER OF WORLDS. I give you the UPRISING World Heavyweight Champion — LEGION!
BLACK OUT. For several seconds we hear only the countless layered voices of the live audience, until:
"WALK" BY PANTERA PLAYS.
The moment the grinding guitars hit the classic metal riff the roof of the Silver State Ballroom is blown off by the thunderous boom that is every single person in the building yelling and screaming all at once. Then come the pounding drums and the rest of the band joins in on the downbeat. LEGION flashes on the video screen above the entrance as Phil Anselmo shreds the lyrics with his nail-driven vocals.
ANSELMO
Can't you see I'm easily bothered by persistence
One step from lashing out at you
You want in, to get under my skin and call yourself a friend
I've got more friends like you, what do I do?
As the music plays and the crowd sings along, the house lights lift. The UPRISING World Champion is now standing next to Nessa Wall with his arms outstretched and his head tilted back. No face paint. No costumes or theatrics. He wears a leather jacket over his bare, muscled torso with a pair of distressed jeans and boots. He looks forward with dead eyes and a wry face. Strands of wet hair hang over his brow. Thick stubble has grown across his jaw and around his mouth.
As the saying goes, business is about to pick up! Legion stalks down the aisle with Nessa at his side. He has a mad smile across his face as his eyes are staring with a Kubrick-like menace from under his brow. In the ring, The Nameless Ghouls abandon Enigma and the Imposter, ducking out and disappearing into the crowd as the two champions slide under the bottom rope and into the ring.
The music fades out. Off-mic Enigma is heard trying to explain the deception, even going so far to blame Brad Jackson. Legion nods, shrugs his shoulders and tells him he understands before DARTING ACROSS THE RING TO ATTACK THE MONSTER MACHINE!
Enigma drops the Staff of Spiral and holds his hands up in defense from the flurry of punches. The Imposter tries to leave the ring but gets stopped by Nessa who backs him down into one of the corners. Enigma, three inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than the champ, seems to withstand most of the attacks until finally he fights through and gets Legion by the neck. He lifts the smaller man into the air and then SLAMS HIM DOWN with Questions and Answers (sitout chokeslam) to a chorus of boos.
Enigma stands up, flexes, and spins around to look at Nessa. He doesn’t hear the pop of the crowd or realize Legion has immediately sat up. The UPRISING world champion is wagging a finger as a half grin cuts across his face. He gets to his feet and holds his arms in the air as he stalks after the Monster Machine. Nessa doesn’t back down from Enigma. Instead she defiantly raises her fists to defend herself if need be but, as Enigma closes in he suddenly notices that mischievous smile on her face and hears the roaring crowd.
Enigma turns around just in time to get a kick to the gut from Legion, doubling him over. Legion then grabs the Monster Machine and hoists him into the air. The UPRISING champion turns with all of Enigma’s 275 pounds across his shoulders, facing upward, till he finds the main camera and bares his teeth. With a loud growl he DROPS ENIGMA STRAIGHT DOWN ON HIS NECK. VDP! Vulgar Display of Power (Burning Hammer)! The Monster Machine flops over onto his back and lays there half-dead in the middle of the ring!
The crowd explodes as the champion bounces back to his feet and struts around the ring until finally he sets his sights on the Imposter who’s cowering against a turnbuckle. Legion, standing in the center of the ring, picks up the Staff of Spiral and looks it over before looking back at the masked man. He holds out his right hand and beckons him with his curled index finger.
The Imposter looks around as if hoping for someone to rescue him but ultimately steps forward still holding the belt. As he comes to stand in front of the real champion, the Imposter is visibly shaking from fear. In the crowd, a chorus of YOU FUCKED UP can be heard resonating around the ballroom.
Legion points at the belt and then down on the ground. The Imposter doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told, bending down to lay the silver-plated red belt down on the canvas just a few feet from Enigma’s unmoving body.
As he stands, Legion cranks back the staff over his shoulder before swinging it like a baseball bat. The purported mummified head of Spiral SMASHES into the Imposter’s masked face, exploding in leathery strips of skin and black dust that bursts into the air! The Imposter’s mask goes flying off and, as he stumbles around in a daze, we see enough of his face under the disgusting black smears to see that it’s Jude Mitchell, Siobahn McLeod’s boyfriend!
Legion breaks the staff over his knee and tosses each piece into the crowd just as Nessa Wall comes sprinting into frame. She springboards off the middle rope and delivers Application Denied (Beautiful Disaster Kick) across Jude’s face! He spins around like a top before falling through the ropes and landing hard on the floor! The crowd is on their feet cheering the two champions!
Legion picks the belt off the mat and walks to one corner while Nessa goes to another. They ascend to the second turnbuckles and look out over the sea of people on their feet and surprisingly cheering for them both. They raise their belts in the air and the crowd roars. Then they drop down to the mat and meet in the middle where Legion finds one of the microphones and picks it up.
He looks around the building at all the faces who only moments ago were booing the man they thought was Legion. Now they’re on their feet and cheering his every action.
LEGION
Destiny. Fulfilled.
He hoists the belt above his head as the crowd cheers.
LEGION
Enigma may be an incompetent mongoloid but he got one thing right just a few minutes ago. I did tell you so. I told all of you. For weeks I said this was my time. This was my opportunity to shine. This was my UPRISING moment and no one was going to stop me.
He slings the belt over his shoulder. Nessa stands next to him with her own belt shining on her shoulder under the lights.
LEGION
I also said the ten of us who walk into the Terrordome will never leave that cage. We will cease to exist, replaced by new versions of ourselves. Transformed through pain. Reborn through violence. Some of you walked out with a depleted sense of self worth and wounded pride, with little left in you but to bitch and moan on twitter. Another is still lying in a hospital bed fighting his way out of the coma I put him in.
A mixture of cheers and boos rumble at the indirect mention of JC’s tenuous condition in the ICU.
LEGION
And then there’s me. LEGION. Not the Devil In Black. Not the painted faced clown that first arrived in UPRISING. I have been torn down, ripped apart and remade into something new. There’s no more Church of the 7th Circle. No more masked lackeys who could never walk my path much less live up to my expectations. I promised all of society’s discarded sons and daughters a home but that invitation has been revoked. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. All I need is what you see standing in this ring right now.
Legion looks over to Nessa. The two share half-cocked smiles before turning back to the camera.
LEGION
We are the two greatest world champions in all of wrestling today. The best of the best. Not Ash Blake at Action Wrestling. Not Damon Cross at NFW. Not Arley Kirk at 1 Wrestle. And certainly not Magdalena Lockheart, champion of that running gag of a promotion called Level Up. None of you are on our level but if you think otherwise, you know where to find me. Right here in Reno. Or hell, if getting your asses kicked on a Saturday in front of the world would be just too humiliating then you can meet me in New Orleans any day of the week. No cameras. No fans. I don’t need the world to see me whip your asses. I just want you to know that I’m better than you after I send you running back home.
The crowd pops.
LEGION
But let’s not get distracted. There’s plenty of business here in UPRISING. So who’s next? That’s what you want to know, right?
Legion looks around with a coy smile, allowing the fans a moment to chant and scream for him.
LEGION
Will Luther get a chance to reclaim his title? Will Don Tirri have another shot at proving he’s still got it? Will it be Ignis, Amber Ryan or any of the others who tried and failed to pull this belt from the hook? Or maybe it’ll be one of these new dogs running their mouths on twitter, trying to talk their way into opportunities, telling the world how big and bad they are. Or maybe, just maybe, the Answer will drag his ass out of that hospital bed and we can break that tie.
Loud cheers resonate around the ballroom at the mere mention of JC vs Legion III.
LEGION
I don’t care who it is. Brad Jackson, you pick them, you set them up and I’ll knock them down, one by one, because this belt is going NOWHERE. Hell, maybe I’ll run right through the whole roster until even Matt Knox ends up next in line. Matt Knox, one of only two men to beat me in UPRISING and the ONLY one who I didn’t let beat me. Actually now that I think about it, having achieved my destiny by becoming UPRISING champion, I think it’d be fitting for you to be next. If you think you’re up to it, I’ll go ahead and give a call down to that hospital JC is holed up in and tell them to reserve another bed for you. Right next to him.
The camera pans across the crowd. Raised fists. Full throttle applause. They’re eating it up. Back in the ring the camera man moves in until the two champions fill the frame.
LEGION
So Knox, Tirri, Ignis or any one else standing in the back right now listening to this, thinking maybe, just maybe you are the one who will take this belt away with me, all I have to say to you is this: try me. Bring everything you have. Put it all on the line. Leave nothing to chance. Give me your blood, sweat and tears, just like JC did.
Legion holds up his hand with his finger and thumb an inch apart.
LEGION
He came this close to beating me. You think you can do better, Knox? You think you can do better, Ignis? Well, I have good news and bad news for you. The good news is you’ll all get your chance. Line up, one by one, and meet me in this ring. The bad news is, no matter what you throw at me it will never, ever, be enough.
FOCUS ON: Legion’s eyes.
LEGION
And for the rest of you, the ones who know you have no business saying my name let alone standing across from me in this ring… Stay. Out. Of. My. Way. Just because I don’t dress like the devil anymore doesn’t mean I won’t drag your asses straight to hell.
Legion throws the microphone down. Pantera blasts through the speakers as the fans go wild. Nessa and Legion then walk to ropes, leaving Enigma and Jude still laid out on the canvas, and duck out to the aisle. They walk aggressively toward the entrance, stopping only once to look back over their shoulders at the ballroom, and then we:
FADE TO BLACK.
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© UPRISING 2021
____________________________________________
QUICKIE RESULTS:
THE AVENGER vs GRETA NYX
SUPREME MACHINE vs "PC" PERCY CARTER
COWGIRLS FROM HELL vs HEROES FOR HIRE!
AZURINE VEBBINS vs GASTON GILLET
RENO NEVADA vs JACK OWYNS
SWINE FLEW vs THE SOCIALITES
DON TIRRI vs CRYSTAL ZDUNICH
SAMANTHA TOLSON (c) vs GRIFFIN HAWKINS (NO CONTEST)