Olympus Promo 1: Holy Man


The camera opens on a long, still, empty desert horizon at nightfall.  Nothing of particular interest or merit stands out among the sand and the scorpions, save one glint of light off in the distance that seems to grow as the sun sets behind it.

"I met a man once who told me of my future.  He told me of my struggles, my stumbling blocks, and my stepping stones.  He said to me that there would be a reason for the violence I inflict unto others."


As the camera pans back, Derelict's towering figure appears as a silhouette against the sky's purple twilight.  His eyes are fixed on the glowing speck on the horizon.  It's lonely light reflects back in his cold, unblinking eyes.

"He told me of a lost city stuck in the barrens of no man's land.  It rose up from the sand and shined a sinner's lantern to attract the world to it.  To many it promised fast nights, fast money, and fast women.  Their siren's song reached across the land until a tiny lost city in the desert became a cultural mecca, a modern Sodom or Gomorrha destined to recreate past salty fates one soul at a time.  Lives would be devoured in the surrounding sands, but not mine.  No, I come not because of some promise of fleshly pleasures; I come to dole out the fate of others.  The soothsayer, he flipped a card from out of his sleeve with the depiction of a stray dog hung up by it's own tail.  He'd said it had been hanging there forever, for every kind soul who tried to loose it's noose felt a bitter bite of resentment and insecurity.  No one could help this dog, because the dog wanted to help itself, knowing full well that it's incapable of doing so.  The dog had foolish pride and nothing else.  The soothsayer told me it was my job to put the stray down, for it's self-inflicted misery would be everlasting if I didn't.  Layne, it's hard to be a champion tomorrow if you don't have a tomorrow.  I don't say that as an idle threat, but instead as a cautionary tale for a man like yourself who thinks youth will last forever and that tomorrow will always be there.  Quit procrastinating.  Try.  No matter how much that stray dog hanging from that tree branch pantomimes nipping at it's tail, we know that it tries in vain.  It's going through the motions and trying to make us root for it, and it'll be hanging there tomorrow enacting the exact same hopeless story of vain perseverance.  The question is whether the dog could do better for itself, or if it's correct in knowing that it's deserving of it's 'underrated' status.  Now me personally, regardless to whether you're a defeatist or just suck at wrestling and life, I think you're rated perfectly as the middle of the card precursor to the main event.  That's where you belong because you don't have it in you to be more than what you are: a hapless grappler who believes he'll get better without trying.  You might've been a prodigy a few years ago, and you may have even been that blue chip that everybody bit down on to test it's merit, but all I see now is a man who hasn't caught up with his own hype and a pack of smiling critics picking plastic out of their teeth.  You're just on the verge of being desperate, just like Keeton was when we first ran across one another.  You're not there yet.  You think you are, but you aren't.  Like with Keeton, I'll show you what it truly means to do whatever it takes.  I'll push you where I pushed him, I'll make you fight for survival.  I suppose it's up to you as to whether you pull yourself off of your laurels and try to make it out alive.  It's the only option, really: aptet non peribit.  Adapt or...well, you know the rest."


A vulture flies overhead as Derelict continues his trek through the desolate forest of cacti and cliffs toward the growing light in the distance.

"Speaking of Jake, the fortuneteller told me that your card was unique Layne.  It's rare for it to appear in the deck with a shadow cast behind it.  Or at least that's what the gypsy said.  I remain skeptical, but it did remind me of Jake Keeton.  In the foreground hung this scrappy pup with a bright future suspended in place by a thread of it's own making, and behind it was the dark reflection of it.  The hollow outline.  The empty void of negative space representing it's future sin.  I drove you to evil things Jake.  I made you a shadow of your former self.  I saw the fear of death in your eyes that I've seen in the albino pink eyes of a white rabbit just as it lets out it's death scream.  All pretense of a 'professional wrestler' was dropped and you joined me in a fight.  I liked that.  I'd like to see it again when your shadow falls in Layne Kurobane's corner.  I'd like him to see you there in his most desperate hour, with your hand stretched out and your eyes full of hate and resentment, and I want him to know that horrible visage of anger and uncertainty is also on his face.  I want him to see your shameful relief when you resort to hitting me with whatever you can lay hands on and lift above your head again.  I want him to hear that bell again, the one I heard when I beat you, the man with principles, by making you sink to my level.  I want him to know that's his reflection staring back at him from mere moments in the future.  He'll have the same feral eyes you had.  He'll have the same doubt in his heart that you did.  The blood on his hands will stain in the same pattern that it did on yours.  I'm here not only to cut down the stray, but to also watch it's shadow fall behind it.  The question remains as to how I'll deliver this errand of fate: Will I make you tag him in after I've had my fun? Or will I make you prop up the turnbuckle and glad hand the tag rope while I mutilate another human in front of you until it's mind and body snaps and I make you relive your most perilous moment in a ring in some perverse and bloody passion play?  I suppose that all depends on you Jake.  Are you going to show up with the cracked facade of an athlete trying to conduct a clinic? Or is the real you going to show up? The one who didn't mind blasting me in the skull or hitting below the belt? I want the man I made, not the image I've broken.  I'd imagine a kid like Layne looks up to you though, so that might put you in quite the moral conundrum.  I can't say that I care either way.  I've already beaten both faces of Jake Keeton anyway."


Derelict finally reaches the city.  As he crosses into the visible barrier of light between civilization and the desert wasteland, the audio begins to pop with raucous crowd noises and the sound of shifting bells and whistles.  Derelict makes his way toward a nearby run down gas station.  He walks in past a cheaply dressed man in a fedora and shades preaching to the empty pumps as the city buzzes outside of the bubble of his empty pulpit.  After a brief moment of the flimflam man's ramblings, Derelict slowly strides back outside.

Derelict: And there's the son of a bitch who told me all of this right after he threw a lit wad of flash paper in my face. 

Saul Abzu: Greetings weary traveler.  I was just telling these fine lost souls about the awakening of mankind.

Derelict: Yeah, well, I've got enough repetitive hot air billowing in my ear this week so I'll take a rain check.

Saul Abzu: Indeed, but would you be so kind as to perhaps spare a moment to hear what I have to say.

Derelict: And I say I have already.  I've got the scorched ends on my chin pubes to prove it.

Saul Abzu: I'm sorry...do I know you young man?

Derelict: Enough to follow me, I'd suspect.

Saul Abzu: I follow no man.

Derelict: I've been called worse.

Saul Abzu: No.  I mean you must have me mistaken for someone else.

Derelict: No, I usually remember tiny loud mouthed goblins who try to singe my face off with parlor tricks.  Speaking of, I owe you for that one.

Saul Abzu: While I don't remember our previous altercation, I'd suspect trying to rough me up would end in more of the same.

Derelict: I somehow doubt it.


Derelict grabs the loose collar of Saul's suit and cocks back his fist.  Saul immediately starts digging in his pockets frantically.  Just as the poor street corner con artist begins to turn his pockets out, Derelict smirks and loosens his fist, letting flash paper fall like confetti into the sand.  Without a word, Derelict tosses Saul onto his back in the street, spits on the flash paper, and digs his heels into the tiny loogie drenched wads of flammable flakes.

Derelict: Stop following me.


Derelict turns and walks toward the bustling street as Saul looks on in astonishment as the derelict disappears into crowded sidewalk traffic.

Saul Abzu: And lo he's met the man without limits, a corporeal leviathan like himself who has as many muscles as words in his mouth.  Two titans without homes and plenty to show and tell.  Will they leave anyone in their wake? or will they clash over territory and scraps?  Only the gods themselves know for certain.


Saul picks himself up and dusts off his trousers.  He ruffles his collar to rid it of the comically large sandy hand print that had engulfed it.

Saul Abzu: Fate is unkind, but so are they.


Cocking the knowing smile of a madman, Abzu waddles into the crowded Vegas streets and melts into it's corrupt scenery.

I didn't expect this.

I didn't expect I'd challenge for The Omega Heavyweight Championship again.

I mean, I'm just an actor now and I only returned recently just because I was in a backstage, catching up with some old friends, but then I saw Ground Zero beating up Hans Olsen from a monitor and then I decided to help him which lead me to make another appearance 2 weeks later, accompanying Hans to face off against James Anderson.

But before the main event time, you saw it and you heard it. The Omega Heavyweight Champion, Tarah Nova was naming me as her number one contender for Friday Night Olympus on June 28th in Las Vegas, Nevada.

When was the last time I challenged The Omega Heavyweight Champion? Oh, that's right at Burning Sky. CM Nas beat me fair and square that night and then I vanished. I returned to Hollywood again for filming a Movie and only competed in The Clash of Titan match ever since. By the way, The Ground Zero leader, Nate Cage low blowed me that night before he threw me out of the ring but I don't hold a grudge.

Anyway, where was I? That's right. Burning Sky. It was the first and only time I challenged for The Omega Heavyweight Championship and I failed to win it. I'm an actor now but I haven't won any World Championship in my career yet. The bitter tastes still resides in my heart until these days. That's the only regret I have.

I didn't do anything to receive this opportunity. Bull Connors and even Gareth Carson are the more deserving contenders. Gareth is the Briefcase holder and he can cashed it in anytime he wants. Bull has been cashing in for his God of Wars Medallions at Boiling Points. So why did you name me as your first contender, Tarah Nova?

You didn't state your reason why you choose ME as your number one contender on June 28th. I get it, you want to be known as a fighting champion while holding in that Omega Heavyweight Champions but out of all people, why me? You can named someone liked Layne Kurobane, Maggall, CM Nas again, my friend, Hans Olsen or even Donny Dragon or James Anderson. The guys who have always here every time we held shows. Surely I don't deserve this, Tarah, but you decided to give this opportunity to me so all I can say is thank you and I'll bring my best to beat you in order to be The Omega Heavyweight Champion.

There's no bad blood between us, Tarah, at least from my part. Back in the awards show, I presented you The Hero of The Year awards and we had a hug. When I found out that OWA called me to present the awards to you, I was so excited to give that award to you. Your trilogy matches against Kenny Drake, your match against both your husband, CM Nas and Jacob Senn at Final Destinations are good examples how great you really are both as a person and as a wrestler. Your hard work and determination lead you to be The Omega Heavyweight Champion and you surely deserved to hold that belt. I want you to be the champion as long as possible. I want you to put on some classic matches going forward like you always do but since I have an opportunity to fulfill one of my dreams against you, someone who I really respect then I can't help but to make one of my dreams come true. I want you to understand it, Tarah. You're the one who's giving this opportunity to me after all. You surely don't need to hold back against me. I apologize in advance if I beat you, you're the last person I expected to have a World Championship with. But what's done is done. I might be gone from a wrestling scene for so long apart from a few appearances here and there, but I surely still have a fighting spirit to push you to the limit, Tarah. Remember, I've failed countless times when we both were in a same company we worked in before we both came to OWA and if you really know me so well, my aspirations will never fade away. Those experienced hardened me both physically and mentality, so if I fail to beat you, I can just moved on.

But that's the key sentences "if I fail to beat you." I'll be very happy if I win this championship. Everyone will. It's always good to be on the top. You're living in this moment Tarah, but I surely want to have mine by beating you at Vegas on June 28th. Don't regret your decision if I really do beat you, because YOU made THIS match.

Together, we can make a classic match. I'm sure of it. May the best wrestler win, and I'm planning to be the better one.

Donny Dragon, James Anderson, I suggest you both to watch this match because you'll witness The White Knight return match in a one on one match. I'm sure I can give you both a lesson as THE Champ.

Four Months Earlier.


Christiansted, St. Croix


The Buccaneer St. Croix



(Stephanie Matsuda awakens in bed next to her newly wedded wife, Monica Vaughan. It’s day two of their honeymoon, something they plan on being on for the next month for so. As she sits up in bed, she sees the couple they’ve met at the bar sleeping quietly on the other side of her. It was a middle-aged couple - a doctor and his art dealing wife. Stephanie checked her surroundings, seeing that the other couples they’ve “met” have retreated to their suites. She climbs out of bed and gets dressed before walking out to the patio to greet the sunrise. It was January, but the Virgin Islands were perfect this time of year. After a week, there were going to travel to Europe. A few minutes later, Stephanie heard her phone buzzing from a nearby table. Upon inspection, she saw that she received a text from an unknown number:)

“Hello, Mrs. Matsuda and congratulations. My name is Viola DeMarco, and I would like to speak with you regarding some business matters. I apologize for contacting you like this - Serenity has told me you’re currently on your honeymoon. But, this is a time sensitive matter in regards to an upcoming event. Thank you and have a blessed day.”

(Stephanie sighs, and takes a good look at the sunrise before pressing the call button.)


First thing first, I need to apologize.


If you think this match is a way for me to make an example out of you to my greatest rival, then you’re right. Sunday night isn’t about you. It’s about working out any kinks I may have before my big showdown. Maybe you’ll get the chance to show off your talents, but know and understand that you won’t get the kind of opportunity you think you’re getting. Maybe you catch me off guard a few times with your high-flying antics Maybe, just maybe you get a two count. But at the end of the day, you’ll fall victim to The War Queen just like the rest. My mission...my purpose matters more than whatever resides in your heart Udy. This...story between me and Ms. Jaxon is bigger than our match on Sunday. It’s deeper than wrestling. Maybe you’re feeling a little cheated. Here you are main eventing Sunday Night Kingdom, but yet your opponent is someone who has no mercy, someone with no love in her heart once that bell rings. There’s no amount of flips in the world that’s going to save you from me, sweets. The Champ herself will be present to watch every fist thrown, every suplex delivered. She will be studying my movements, to see what’s new and what I’ve kept in my moveset. I’m sure you did your homework on me as well, sweets. I’m sure you figure since you’re a man you’re faster and stronger than me. Maybe you can fly higher, flip faster, kick harder? Either way...you’ll end up on your ass. In case you’ve been sleeping under a rock, women run OWA. Every world champion is a member of the opposite sex. And the day I entered that arena I placed them on notice. Three title shots for three world championships. Who knows? You could see a triple world champion before the season ends.


Anything is possible.


My path has been split into several while yours remain linear...right into the clutches of a Blasian Suplex. But, don’t fret. One day, you’ll get a shot at the big time. Just not now, just not today. I’ve come a long way...from the depths of my own damn depression nevertheless, to pull myself out of my own head and get over my bullshit, to be honest about what I want. I’m not absent-minded; I know I hurt a lot of people doing what I did. Back then...I wasn’t right in my head Udy, I wasn’t following my heart. During my reign it just...grew cold. Eventually, it grew dark. Imagine sitting there and listening to people say things about the people you care about...and doing nothing. There’s no excuse in the world that can make up for that. The brand I abandoned? It’s still doing quite well. Their current champion? Good enough to hold that belt. But, it’s wasn’t where I belonged. Is OWA my new home? Who knows. But for the time being, I’ll rest my head on Sunday nights. 


Here’s the thing, Udy. Darkness is a funny concept. It represents evil and fear. Sometimes it’s even a metaphor for the unknown. When it surrounds us we can’t see past it. That’s why those who embrace become short-sighted. They wear their shadows like a blanket for protection, for comfort during those lonely nights. Been there, done that sweets. I’m never shaken by anyone who thinks watching The Dark Knight and Underworld one too many times gives them power. Joseph - whom you may know as Eclipse - tried the same shit and I personally put that fool behind bars, took his kids, and brought his sister into the light. Now I’m no angel - in fact I’m currently aligned with a group of devils. But, I’d rather side with the devil I know than anyone else at the moment. Keelan’s actions may be questionable at best, but as someone who once identified himself as a member of the infamous Golden Mafia. As does Kingdom’s new warden, Scott Oasis. They know the truth behind Final Destination’s main event. They know what’s talked about behind closed doors. These “heroes” people look up to whether it’s in the Home of the Omega, the Land of The Elite, or the Corporation of the Extreme, are not the people you think they are. I wasn’t the champion people thought I was. But, there is still time for us to change as a community. There’s a chance for wrestling to unite us. First stop - waking Aria up from her slumber. You’re part of that plan, Udy. I shall sacrifice you before the gods themselves to achieve my goal and unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. This story we tell ourselves...that one day we’ll be king, save it for the Disney movies. You call yourself omnipresent, all knowing and all seeing. Let me ask you this then…


How many seconds will you last in the ring with me?

(5 years ago)


A night 6 feet under:

It was only a match.  A gimmick.  But being buried alive under the wet mud even for a second felt weird. It was like death was playing a stupid game.  Like end was mocking.  He has been closer to death or may he is actually dead and dreaming up all those creepy dressed up cockroaches. He had to be under the mud for few minutes and when he came out, he felt broken. His body was hurt but his soul...the elusive thing that plays hide and seek all the time was also in need of mending.  

A cold wet morning in the woods

A man was lying on an hospital like bed.  The shutters of the room are down but the sound of the drizzling rain could be heard outside like a low whiz.  Also his breath was a whiz.  He was in pain.  He could taste his own blood, smell it and...

He could also smell his pack.  They were with him.  Big Fenris, the Gnome and the fainting scent of her....as she was going away from him again.  But he was happy she left...

May be it was what it was supposed to be..

A man was trying to sit up and he coughed up some blood. The pain were deep in his bones but he was healing and healing fast..

A man stood up and limped and stumbled his way to the table and poured himself a glass of strong bourbon....

A man drank it down in a single gulp and belched over on the floor...

A man.....a different one entered the room and held him from falling over...
13^th June, 2019

A torrential afternoon:

The rain and wind has both gained force....

The sound of the wind was like howling of some beast.   

Udy was almost healed now and could feel it.  He could feel the blood flowing.  He had a bottle of beer in his hand and he also knows he has a match coming up on sunday against Stephanie Matsuda.  The Demon Wolf vs The War Queen.  The Real Alpha vs The Warrior.  What are the odds?

A 300 pound masked man walks in.  He had a carcass of a deer on his shoulder.  He stops for a second and looked at Udy.  Then walked inside.

"So this sunday, I will fight the Warrior Queen.  Well I hate to fight a woman but that’s that, ain’t it?  The darkness will have to fall upon the warrior and surround her like a dark cloud of foreboding doom."


Udy lets out a maniacal scoff.

"Let me tell you a story of a Warrior.  The Warrior thought she knew what hell was, thought she has seen it all.  She walked with her head held high into the haunted woods believing she could fight anything.  But as her eyes adjusted to the bright darkness and the blindfold of false promises were taken off, she saw “IT”.  All of a sudden the blood left her body and she felt a cold despair.  She could feel the darkness as if it was alive and she could hear her fear talking to her in hushed voice. She cowered at the sight of the real evil.  She came face to face with a beast that she could’t even dare to conjure up in her darkest nightmares. When she couldn’t look at “IT” anymore she closed her eyes and dropped her weapons.”


The Demon Wolf looks straight at ahead, his eyes black as coal and snarls.

 “She lowered her head.  She felt the ice cold claws on her face.  AND THEN her head then rolled to the ground blood spurting out."

"Matsuda, bravery can sometimes be stupid.  Listen to the winds Warrior Queen. Listen to the voices that whispers you to abandon the forest and walk away.  Or spread your arms and embrace the curse. "

There was a thud sound and then Fenris walked out and dropped the head of the deer at Udy's feet. 

Udy looked the head with bloods splattering everywhere and lets out a maniacal laughter.  

"See Warrior, the blood always flows......."

The Dog now walks in and started licking the blood of the floor.  Then it sits down by Udy's feet.

"...........Matsuda I know you will not run. I also know you are a great warrior but this isn’t a fairy tale. I am not a fiction. Monsters are real and your bravery and amazing fighting acumen won’t be able to defeat a reality of “IT”.  The Demon Wolf will bring the darkness and despair and pain that I don’t wish upon you but “IT” won’t hold back if you swing a punch"

There was sound of thunder in the background and the creature by Udy's side lets out a howl...Udy suddenly smiles.

"If you do bring it on, I wish you the best because to walk into the demonic woods and walk out is impossible”

He cranks his neck and now his eyes have turned demonic black again...

Udy chuckles devilishly and looks at his hands which were dripping the blood of the deer.  He rubs it against his face and chest and sniffs at it...

"You see Warrior, blood and stench of fear is what gets me going.  Your blood will fall in the ring if you come face to face with me. Do you really want it? Do you want to be like that headless carcass that the beasts feed on? Do you want to be the prey?"

Udy falls to his knees and another thunder is heard in the background.  

" Matsuda you are a good fighter and I respect that and I think it’s best I should give you the chance to abandon the match because if not, I the beast won't go hungry. So contemplate and sleep over it.  You have 3 days to choose life or damnation. "

Fenris walks up behind Udy and spreads his arms as the beast stands up as well.  The candle blows out and rooms goes dark as another thunder blasts.  A lightening flashes as well..


Demonic chants start and there is a howl....

And then another.....

Finally a longer blood curdling howl starts.......

As the camera view comes into focus, James Anderson and Donny Dragon are standing in the gym, looking incredibly smug with themselves.
 
Donny: James, you hear that?
 
James: Hear what?
 
Donny: The sound of total failure to reach your full potential.
 
James: Damn, must be Hans Olsen talking again!
 
Donny: Oh dear, oh dear. He’s still stuck in a rut, it seems. He could do with a pep talk from his friends!
 
James: I wholeheartedly agree, Donny! It’s just as well, because Hans just so happens to be my opponent this week!
 
Donny: No shit?
 
James: I know, right! God, I love coincidences. Though it’s no coincidence that Hans over here is pissed. I mean, he’s a monument to wasted skill. You’ve got an Olympic Champion in wrestling…who can’t win a wrestling match. I don’t know about you, but that’s kinda pathetic.
 
Donny: It’s VERY pathetic.
 
James: And here we are, two good guys, offering an olive branch. We just wanna see our friend succeed and all he can do is throw it back in our faces. That’s just disrespectful. What did we do? Oh, so we beat on you a little a while back. That’s ancient history, Hans, live in the now. You’ve gotta get over these things, like we have. Me and Donny are winners, my friend. Hell, Donny’s been in OWA for six months now and nobody’s managed to pin or submit him! Meanwhile, Hans here seems incapable of beating anybody. It’s becoming a sad sight, watching this guy who everyone thought would do great get put down by everyone and their mother.
 
So, why are we even interested in recruiting you, Hans? Good question. Why would we want a loser who has no place here? Maybe it’s because Ground Zero doesn’t have losers, it has winners. Men who are willing to go the extra mile to secure victory by any means necessary. We can give you that. We can give you purpose. The Dollhouse have an ungodly stranglehold on this division and we want to bring you along for the ride. We wanna see you with a tag strap round your waist. Even up that unfair numbers advantage. But you’re a stubborn bastard, ain’t ya? You had your shot to link up with us and you turned us down like a fat girl on prom night.
 
Donny: Are we allowed to fat shame?
 
James: I have it on good authority that as long as we don’t call anybody ugly, we’re in the clear.
 
Donny: Sounds legit to me.
 
James: So, where the fuck was I? Oh yeah, Hans, you little rascal, you. You wanna get violent, huh? Did me an Donny piss you off? You’re fantasising about snapping my ankle and showing me why you’re so tough? I’m not intimidated by you, Hans. We’ve got you eating our of the palms of our hands. What, you think you’re in safe hands because your little friend Nobi came back to stand in your corner? That’s just another loser for us to beat on. All Nobi does is show up for a cheap pop every now and again and disappear for six months. We’re not scared of that fucking boy scout. Last time anybody saw him, Nate was dumping him out of the Clash of the Titans, back into obscurity. And obscure is what you’re in danger of becoming if you don’t wake up and smell the coffee, Hans. We offered you the opportunity to make change and improve your lot in life and now, you’ve left us with no choice. If we have to destroy you and Nobi to get our point across, then so be it. We’re not afraid of the consequences of severely injuring you, because at this point in time, nobody even sees any value in you. It could be different, but you don’t want that. You’ve got way too much pride to such an extent that it’s damaging your own reputation. I don’t know if it’s your Olympic spirit or sheer stupidity, but it’s an attitude that I can’t wait to shove in your face while I slap the shit out of you on Friday.
 
Donny: And I’m gonna watch. Because me and you might have been friends once upon a time, but I can’t be associating with losers who don’t have the ambition to improve. You’ve already lost to me, now it’s time to lose to the other half of this operation. And once we’ve won the Apollo and Artemis Classic, and use our title shot to get rid of those Dollhouse fucks once and for all, you’ll only be able to watch on in regret at not taking us up on our offer.
 
James: And at that point, it’ll be too late.

OLYMPUS I: THE ONE AND ONLY SHOW AND ENCORE

Ahem.

Allow me to warm up my voice so I can bless every single one of you listening to me!  This is the only verse to this tune.

It’s time for my best performance yet on Olympus; one that’ll show how much of a star I am in the ring.  It’s a time for me to reflect on how damn good I’ve been over the past three years, selling out arenas and making the name “Nathan Fiora” known to the masses.  In those three years I’ve won titles and main evented shows. Most importantly, I stole all your hearts and you all are grateful of my presence. However, there appears to be someone who’s been tampering with the relationship I hold with my audience.  Cyanide? No, I could care less about that self indulgent fool and he can go back to whatever . I’m talking about Layne Kurobane, a self-made man who’s on a mission to be the most successful man in OWA. I’ve watched your work since you entered the scene and my God, you are quite the talented fellow.  Your class and performances get all the fans riled up, cheering you on to victory, but that was all while I wasn’t around. When I made my eventful debut in OWA, everyone set their eyes on the work that I’d do in the ring and outside of it. And guess what? I have knocked the socks off everyone and am one of the most talked about superstars in this company.  More than Aria Jaxon; more than Tarah Nova; and especially more than you Layne. I haven’t denied your talent but your arrogance disgusts me so much, to the point where I have to have a barf bag around me at all times. The mere thought of you doubting me makes me feel like throwing up in said bag, which has your face on it btw. You’re not that special Kurobane; you’re just like every other person on this roster.  Are you saying that everyone on the roster doesn’t desire to be the best they can be every day? You may deny it but that’s the attitude that you’re giving with that overconfident drivel. If you were a world title holder or the leader of the brand, I would excuse this behavior, but you’re just another body Mr. Layne. You didn’t win that world title simply because: You aren’t good enough for one. You had the opportunity of a lifetime against Scott Oasis at the Clash, yet you dropped the ball heavily.  Since then, you’ve been on a streak of failures at major events, where you dropped your beloved Spartan title at Final Destination. If you’re gonna be spouting garbage about being the best, you better have some damn solid proof that you are that and at this rate, you moving to Olympus is a miracle. Here you actually have a shot at running away from the failures that will always follow you.

Now, let’s move on the pre-chorus of this wonderful tune that’ll change everyone’s opinion of this vanilla midget.

We were both in Kingdom and honestly it shocks me it took you so long to actually accomplish all these things when I made my way up in just a matter of months.  The management and crowds know that I’m quite the necessity in today’s culture of bland high school wrestlers turned pro. I’m here for the ride and making sure that I get whatever I please and want because I am the one and only Nathan Fiora.  Saying my own name gives me Goosebumps and I’m sure anyone who knows me can say the same. While Layne struggles with getting title shots, all I need to do is go into an office for five minutes and I’ll get whatever I please. Hell, they might just give me the world title off the bat because my name has authority Layne, authority.  While you’re killing your body every night, I’m someone who just sits down and demands that things go his way and guess what? It works. You should try it sometime Kuro. This may be a new brave world for you, but just know that it’ll result in the same outcome as before because you had control in your old world and that hasn’t changed since then.  Pursue whoever you want to pursue, but until you set your eyes on reality, nothing will ever go the way you’d like it to. Reality’s whispering in my ear right now and telling me that Layne will never grow until he realizes that he needs to take the company by its horns and show them who’s boss. I had to learn that after years of being cast aside for guys who would end up leaving or fail under pressure.  Now, I’m the healthiest and most successful I’ve ever been in my whole career. I’m not trying to sound like someone from your guys’ geeky and lame Star Wars movies but I’d recommend you to join us before you realize it's too late to rely on this company to give you what you want; only you know what you want.

Allow me to take a quick recess so you can prepare all your minds for my mind blowing performance.  Before I beat the life out of Layne with my vocals, I have consulted a man who knows how to act calm around others.  This is why the chorus of this will be a duet with the one and only woman respecter I look up to. Justin Bieber and I were just talking about how he’s the Michael Jackson of this generation; heavily underrated and coming out with hit after hit.  He’s the very talented Rihanna lover…Chris Brown! Take it away my friend!

Layne, you’re the modern Sonic the Hedgehog if he was actually a person.  You’re not witty, Cage actually just stole my name instead of coming up with something clever...bastard.  Something clever that you’ve done is pay attention to me and you seem to know more than you’re alluding to.  I am a man of reinvention; I know how to please the masses with my mannerisms and absolute swagger. You say that people deteriorate and fall, which is true, but I’m the man who’s managed to stay relevant all these years without missing a beat.  Layne, you’ve only been around for about a year so let the professionals talk about this business and you can go twiddle your thumbs with the other simpletons. I’m a man of several talents who has managed to not only become a successful wrestler but also has managed to become a Copper, not Gold or Platinum yet, artist in just a matter of a year.  Tell me that isn’t impressive kiddo, but it doesn’t end there. I’m able to do both every week that I’m here because of how inventive I am as a man. My performances have gathered millions of views on the OWA YouTube channel and on the Omega Network. I’m an enigma and a phenomenon that can’t be replicated anywhere and will continue to innovate no matter who doubts me, especially you Kurobane.  Guys like you have always doubted what I do, but like those guys, they’re proven very...very wrong. Do you want to know what happens to those imbeciles? They get embarrassed in the middle of the ring; you can ask those people how wrong they were and the shock of how they had to share the ring with a true legend. I’m one of the most underrated workers in this business and I thought you’d know this Layne.  I expected better from a man who values in-ring work above anything else. I will deliver, don’t you worry, but trying to work me up won’t do anything. Remember, I’m calling the shots for my own career so if I feel a bit tired that day, I might just try a little less than I usually would.

Now for the encore.  Thank you Chris! It was a pleasure for you to be singing with yours truly.

Layne, the score will be settled on Friday.  Whether you get what you want or not, only time and I will tell.  But I advise you to do one thing: don’t let your guard down. I might just sing a tune or two before our match begins or I might just publicly humiliate you in front of millions; it’s all a matter of fate and reality.  She will whisper in your ear by the time this is all over and tell you that you’re nothing. You’re a nobody while Nathan Fiora will soar to the stars, being admired by the masses as one of the most influential geniuses of all time.  Newton, Einstein and Bill Nye the Science Guy have nothing on me. I am The Chicago Noise and I’m here to save everyone from the same old sound they’ve heard countless times. Welcome to my tune Layne, I hope you’re ready for an abrupt ending to yours.

Voice of Maggall in the shadows: Man every superheavyweight think they got talent, there’s more of these big dreamers than these superstar contestant shows since the success of American Idol. You see these so called juggernauts lumbering around the Olympus locker room all of a sudden? All because OWA management got them gassed up after what I’ve done! To give people false hope is not magnanimous, in a world where everyone thinks they’re a star, with their eyes closed to reality, a pat on the back is just a push off a cliff.

(The videos turns onto a stage with a guy in purple skinny jeans and perfect white smile jumping around in his excitement with a mic in hand. He is the Ryan Seacrest of this show, he is Rye Seaora.)

Rye Seaora: Welcome to OWA’s Got Idols! We’ve got a great show of diverse contestants for you tonight!  But first, welcome our hosts!

(To the calm clapping of the audience a bald big man of black or brown descent come out. He waves at the crowd but doesn’t really stand out much. Could he be Randy Jackson?)

Rye Seaora: He’s so collected and measured, he’s Bernard Mammoth!

(A man comes out with pink lipstick and platform high heels, to sarcastic whittles and some cheers. Could it be Paula Adbul?)

Rye Seaora: He’s out there, he marches to the beat of his own drum, Nick Chasity!

(An angry man stomps out as the crowd is silent in fear, until he looks at them and makes a motion as if he’s annoyed that they aren’t cheering so they decide to cheer wildly as he sakes his head in dissatisfaction. This has to be Simon Cowell.)

Rye Seaora: Stand up and welcome our national treasure, VP Pac!

VP Pac: Get on with the damn show! Time is money! Keep things on schedule for our deadlines!

Rye Seaora: W-w…Well there you have it folks, let’s get on with the show! First up, the Vanilla Midgets!

(Two vanilla midgets run on stage to perform. They do a couple of straight forward backflips, and more backflips. Then they do a couple of jumping jacks as they put up a sweat.)

Nick Chastity: Oh my you get my approval vote, mommy loves you boys! So wild!

Bernard Mammoth: That was cool, but I could do what you do. Anything special? Can you pull off feats like the Golden State Warriors on Lebron? Let me tell you they’re my favourite team, I love me some Curry.

VP Pac: Fuck this era of basketball, this era of wrestling, and this era of little punks! Get out of here, no points!

(The vanilla midgets run off crying as Nick Chastity makes a heart break gesture and pouts at Pac.)

Rye Seaora: Humph, you’re lucky Chastity isn’t a real mother, or I’d have to stand up for her feelings Pac! (Pac grunts.) Sorry Pac, didn’t mean that! Here’s a new contestant, Pillar!

(A huge man with a hairy chest comes onto stage as Chastity instantly pops! He looks menacingly at the camera before sitting down……and just sits there motionless…..asleep?)

Nick Chastity: Yes daddy! I love this guy, he’s a lock to win this whole thing!

Bernard Mammoth: But he hasn’t done anything…..

VP Pac: Out!

(The sleeping giant rolls over onto his side and is rolled and kicked off stage by Rye Seaora.)

Rye Seaora: Well that was a bust, but the rule of three dictates we’ve got another contestant, another big man! Maggall!

(Maggall doesn’t show up, but a video packages begins to play. It shows Maggall brutalizing a number of people, chief among them Carlos and Christopher Sabertooth in his debut.)

VP Pac: Bahahaha! I love this shit, he’s got my vote!

Bernard Mammoth: I’m not sure I’m a fan of how he hurt some cool people I saw in that video, but he’s got something that makes me think he’s a star!

Nick Chastity: Well Pillar didn’t make it so I guess he’s got my vote too.

Rye Seaora: Bien Bueno! I can now get off work! Congrats on being OWA’s Idol, Maggall!

(The video changes to Maggall taking photoshoots with his TV title and OWA Idol trophy, ratings rising for OWA, and Maggall on posters. It ends with Mammoth, Chasity, and Pac in an office standing before a seated big meat head in a suit. It is Swaggy Diamond!)

Swaggy Diamond: Yo, I was watching this fatass youtuber who lost some weight, and that’s when all his troubles began. I’m telling you, big boys are in, we got Maggall making us top dollar but we need more! Get boogie with it, get some Maggalls! No, bigger!

Nick Chastity: But Maggall makes me feel uncomfortable!

Swaggy Diamond: How so?

VP Pac: He means he’s too urban, dumbass!

Swaggy Diamond: Then get some big white boys, I don’t care!

(Thus the journey began, the three men went to find some big boys! They looked in gyms, trailer parks, and gas stations until they found their men. Men with big red beards, men of massive size, and men of incredible height. Maggall is finally seen in real time shaking his head at it all.)

Maggall: This place really is something! It really as it out for the TV Champion that is putting respect and prestige back on the world of Television. See while I’ve been paying tribute to this honored form of media, and been distracted by hicks like that Alabama challenger who I’ve already forgotten the name of, OWA’s been searching for the next big man to take me out! Oh yeah, before I was rudely interrupted by that lil pipsqueak Lame Neurobane, the ultimate duller of braincells, I saw they had a match with Derelict and the Boston Bruiser Jon Brogan! Where they find those big cornbread motherfuckers? And then I found out they got some near seven foot clown named Schizm. And they all on the Olympus roster? I’m supposed to think all of this is an accident? The fact of the matter is, I was never supposed to win this TV Championship, and ever since I did to close off OWA season 1 OWA been a mission to start up season 2 by finding all the big dudes they can to match up with me! They want someone big and larger than life just like me, but they want that person to be more palatable than me. Know that it doesn’t matter if these dudes are gutter trash, stupid, or straight up demented, any form of leviathan makes the sensitivities of OWA overlords and fans more comfortable than seeing my black ass as champion. Fact is, they’ve never forgiven me for outclassing that hairy slug Monolith and making sure no one would ever see him in an OWA ring again, that was their monster intellectual, that was their meal ticket that should have been everything that I am! So they think if they just pick up some random big dudes out there and put them in the OWA locker room that’ll eventually make me get taken care of!

That’s the mistake, you can find a whole world of dudes bigger than me and it won’t do shit! Jokes aside about my size, the truth is that it isn’t what makes me the best! What makes me the best is what I can do at this size, how I can move, how great of an athlete I am! You know Brogan’s people can’t jump, you know Brogan himself can lift as much as he wants on a bench-press but can’t lift his big ass legs up fast enough to keep up with one legged man in a sprint!

I’m sure you’re happy Brogan, because you getting a shot at greatness despite losing your debut! Funny how the world works, when I entered this company I beat the TV Champion in a non title match in my debut, damn right they didn’t have him defending the title every time he stepped into a singles match. After that, I spent months toiling through all kinds of bullshit, and Bull Connors, until they finally gave me my shot. Now that I’m champion, all of a sudden the championship is defended on TV like it should, all of a sudden OWA believes in giving every new signee it seems a title match because you punks need some spotlight! Ha, well have at it! The thing about spotlights that put people on the map is that they also expose those people to the world, what you got to offer Brogan? You talked a big game before the last Olympus, then you got beat despite all your power and size. I guess you might not be the same after all those times you’ve gotten run over and stabbed up on them streets. Pull your skirt down, nobody cares about your sob stories and where you from, Cam’ron said what type of people get shot everyday B. We alright, you should be too. This is showbiz, everyone’s got a story, but only the few have the talent. Get to showing it. Are you a marvel Rhyno or a Juggernaut, are you a Blob or a Hulk? Because I know who I am, and it ain’t someone who shares the stage long with paper tigers. I tip the scales because I carry weight in more than just the physical, you’ll understand when I have you thrown off this mountain peak they’ve allowed you to find yourself on top of.

(End.)

James Anderson, do you know what I think every time I think of James Anderson?

I think of making him beg for mercy. I think of making him miserable. I think of snapping his ankle. I think of kicking his ass.

A few months ago, he attacked me after my match with my supposed good friend, Donny Dragon. Donny was even questioning James why he decided to attack me before Donny revealed himself what a treacherous piece of shit he really is until a week later.

But then again, I moved on and I have forgotten about what Ground Zero did to me. I even had no ill will towards them when they attacked me, Jeff X, Christopher Sabbertooth, and Layne Kurobane at The Draft Show.

I took a bitter pill to swallow because I have no interest to take part in a drama that always happen in this sport.

Until they pulled this off again recently.

It becomes clear to me Ground Zero wants a piece of me. I've become their target. I don't want to be part of their faction because one, they're scumbags and two, it'll be just a matter of time until they turn on me. Like Donny did a few months ago.

I'm above all of it, James. What made you all want to recruit me? You said it yourself that I've been losing a lot so what's the point of trying to recruit me? You don't want a weak link in your group because as much as I hate to admit it, Ground Zero is an established faction already despite how bad you really are as human beings.

Are you all so desperate to expand your faction to the point you want me? Someone who has been losing a lot. Did everyone turn down your offers already? Whatever. You got me in your bad side for the second time already  and I'm not going to let it slide. I'm going to do what it's right by giving you all a lesson one by one starting from you this week, James.

It surprised me that Ground Zero can't let things go. This is YOUR war, not mine or Nobi. You want it to be this way, then fine, I'm ready to give you a beating of a lifetime.

Hell, I don't care if I lose again this week. I'm driven by hatred and vengeance now. Like I said, I never lay a punch on you before but make no mistake, you'll regret the day you mess with me.

I was so naive by letting you and Donny escaped from everything you have done to me. You continue to live inside this bubble where nobody has experienced your troubles, that nobody has driven their skull into that same glass ceiling without making a damn crack. No, that is the only truth in your little world but outside? In reality it’s the very reason why I’ll walk out of this match as the last man standing this week. I'll give you a credit where it's due since you want this war with me so badly, you started this, you better prepare for the outcome, James.

Maybe me losing a lot have something to do with me not wanting a drama. Out of all people, you're the first ones that have me in your bad side. I'm hungry but not because I want to score a victory, but it's because I want to get the revenge I want so bad in any shape or form. Words can't describe it. I'll let all my anger to drive me going forward from now on. I'll do whatever it takes to make you miserable.

No more The Olympic Gold Medalist, because from now on, I'll be known as The Cleaner of OWA.

You can laugh at me all you want James, because the truth is, you're so stupid and naive to keep wanting a drama. You, Donny, and Nate Cage are well known as the drama queens. You're all so toxic and I'll make the OWA's environment better by getting rid you all.

That won't cost me anything at all. If I could win a gold medal with a broken freakin neck then I damn sure all my emotions won't get the best of me.

Oh, it's real! It's damn real!

Character Development Promo: Deserted





The camera cuts to life to the thump of a hand gently drumming on a guitar body as Roger Miller's "Whistle Stop" strums to life.  Derelict is seen just on the outskirts of a fairly desolate Arizona ghost town as the heat of the desert sun distorts the air in front of him making things at a short distance ripple in an other worldly way.  Derelict makes his way down the empty sidewalk, passing an intersection, his nose still full of paper and his bald head sweating bullets.  A voice breaks through the buzzing heat and rambling tune and catches Derelict off guard.  Derelict turns to see a comical looking man in a warn out baggy suit standing on a nearby hydrant like a child on the pegs of a bicycle, hopping up and down on and screaming at no one in particular as he preaches from behind a pair of oversized shades.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've come to now not to cast your eyes toward heaven, but to show you the very world beneath your feet.  Look down and you'll see it, perhaps for the first time since pulling yourself off of all fours and planting sole firmly to the soil.  You've never looked down since because you've been told that down is the direction of failure and death.  Yet beneath or feet lay the richest of minerals, the most precious of rocks, and the most lusted after oil deposits.  You've been taught to dismiss the ground because it benefits the snakes of the world that you don't horn in on their territory and reap their salacious treasures. You live in a world of illusions, filled with liars and deceivers.  They thump their dogmatic tombs and swing their saints around their necks, as if once again condemning to hang, but not on rope, sticks, or stones.  Oh no, they sentence them to death on something much more damning: their every sinful word!"

Wiping his brow, Derelict laughs under his breath, giving a nod of familiar 'not this again'-ness as he regards the spectacle of a man who seems to have materialize from the very hot air that he spews.

Derelict: You certainly condemn a lot of ears yourself with your serpent's tongue, preacher man.


As if noticing the only other human being within the range of his pulpit for the first time, the strange man perks up and eyes Derelict from behind his horned rim sunglasses and smiles at his contempt.


"Is that an attempt at an insult, my world weary friend?"


The tacky suited man points at derelict and turns back to his invisible congregation


"See? This is an example of the world's deception.  He proclaims ignorantly that I use a feeble forked tongue to spout B.S., when in fact a snake's sensory glands are very dependent of it's tongue.  A snake not only tastes with it's tongue, it senses what is bad for it.  It smells with it.  It touches.  It does all the work of our human appendages and then some to make sure the snake doesn't do something foolish, like letting bunk pass through it's jaws. You sir, yes you with the birds nest for a beard.  Have you ever tasted grape candy or soda before?"

Derelict: I've lived long enough and degraded myself to eating worse things than artificial grape flavors, yes.


"Do you think, oh, let's say a grape soda pop tastes like grape to you?"

Derelict: No.  I'd say it tastes like some fake concoction dreamed up in a candy factory.  I'd call the flavor 'purple' before I'd talk down to a grape by comparing it to it.


"See? You speak from a place of inexperience and ignorance.  Have you ever eaten a muscadine grape?"

Derelict: I can't say whether I have or not.


"Well, if you had you'd know that it's what the taste of artificial grape is based upon.  I know this because it's important to know this.  Do you know why, my friend?"

Derelict: I can't say that I can dream up a scenario where that would be an important bit of trivia to know, so no.


"Well let me tell you, my friend.  Many years ago a king in a long forgotten desert civilization was conspired against and slain by his own brother.  You see, the brother had hoped to claim his fell sibling's throne.  Alas, a disowned nephew born out of wedlock emerged to take his rightful place at the helm.  The brother claimed blasphemy, saying that the elder gods would not want a bastard of an impure blood line to take helm as their representing vessel who ruled above all man.  So the uncle sought out a soothsayer to invent a test of divine nobility.  The soothsayer came back with a very primitive and faith based test: Two grapes were to be placed within a silken sack: one white grape to symbolize the pure and just favoritism of the gods, and the other was a black muscadine to symbolize the impurity and corruption of man's lies.  The bastard heir and the cunning uncle agreed to the soothsayer's terms of crowning a monarch chosen by the elder spirits, but the uncle had an edge up on his ill-gotten nephew.  He paid the soothsayer to fill the bag with two muscadine grapes and made his nephew choose first.  The nephew, a street wizened man like yourself no doubt, smelled a rat almost immediately, but knew he had no leverage to overturn the ceremony's outcome.  So, what do you think he did?"

Derelict: When it came his time to pull a grape from the bag, he devoured it without letting anyone see which he had chosen.  Then he made the soothsayer empty the contents of the bag onto the alter to reveal the remaining black muscadine.  Tasting the familiar black muscadine from his youth when he devoured the purloined fruit, he knew his suspicions of his uncle were correct and sentenced him to death once he inherited the throne.


The street preacher peers over his horned rims, impressed with the Derelict's deduction skills.


"Very goooood.  You've heard this story before?"

Derelict: No, it's just the common sense thing to do.  Any schmuck who is capable of seeing through a cheap suit like you could figure it out.


The small and portly man hops off of the hydrant and approaches Derelict with an extended hand, much to the homeless man's visible chagrin.


"Hnhnhnh...You'd be surprised.  Saul Abzu is the name, and I'm in the business of spiritual awakenings."

Derelict: Yeah? well...as you can see; I'm wide awake.


Saul Abzu: So sure of yourself, I like that.  It's a great mark of a rube that's plump for the picking.

Derelict: Now that you've exchanged pleasantries, let me introduce myself.  I'm no townie, and I'm in the business of knocking people out.  Since you've held court and pedaled your wares, would you care for me to demonstrate mine?


Derelict starts to step toward the oddly dressed Abzu, causing Saul to instinctively throw up his hands and humbly cower.


Saul Abzu: Whoa, whoa, easy big fella.  I may have been premature of my assessment.  On second glance, you strike me as a very modern minded individual.  Perhaps you'd like some literature for your trip?


Abzu begins to reach into his jacket when Derelict cuts him off in his tracks with a foreboding cocked fist.

Derelict: Listen, I've heard a thousand pitches from your type in my day, and I gotta say; it never leads anywhere interesting.  I can respect a good panhandle line, a swift pick-pocketing hand, or even a good grift, but I've never figured out what you spiritual types are trying to steal from me other than my time.


Saul Abzu: Now that's where you're mistaken, my friend.

Derelict: I ain't your friend.


Saul Abzu: Perhaps not yet, but if you'd let me tell you about myself and what I stand for perhaps you'd see what I had to offer?

Derelict: Not interested.


Impatient, Derelict grabs Saul by the collar of his pinstriped zoot suit and lifts him off of his feet.  Just as he's about to yank the conman up to eye level, an inexplicable ball of flames engulfs Derelict's beard.  Panicked, he lets the strange man go and sets to the urgent task of putting his head out.  Without even thinking, Derelict kicks the sealed cover off of the hydrant and shoves his face in it's gushing water.  After successfully extinguishing his face, Derelict immediately postures up for a fight but finds himself standing alone at the intersection.


"You're lost my friend."

Derelict: The only thing I've lost is sight of you, which is fine by me since my only goal was to make you disappear from my existence.


Saul's laughter echos off of the walls of the abandoned buildings as Derelict rings out his beard, only to pull out charred locks in the process.


Saul Abzu: "Perhaps you should check out that spiritual road map I slipped you in the ruckus?"


Derelict pats himself down.  Not amused, he pulls a pamphlet with a strange archaic symbol on it's cover out of his back pocket.

Derelict: I gotta admit, I didn't even feel you slide it in there.


Saul Abzu: "At least I know I've left you respecting me for something now."

Derelict: Yeah? well, that's all you're getting out of this attempted "friendship".

Derelict yanks the soggy run sheet from his nose and replaces it with ripped up bits of the pamphlet.  From his hiding place, Saul continues cackling.


Saul Abzu: Hey, it's no skin off my nose. Hehehehe.  Get it?


Derelict yanks the pamphlet out of his nose and throws the bloodied pages on the ground in frustration as Abzu's mocking laughter seems to follow him as he leaves the city behind. Roger Miller's kooky ramblings kick up again as a dejected Derelict walks away angry and defeated.

(We see a recap of last week’s Odyssey, and we see where Viola told Roni that she would get a championship match opportunity against Dulce Torres at Boiling Point for the Goddess Champion, and we see Roni with a shocked expression on her face as the highlights begin to cut away from her and show the rest of the show’s highlights.)


(The camera begins rolling and we see Roni sitting on her couch dressed in her normal clothing and her apartment cleaned, for once.)

So I this is it isn’t it? After, working day in and day out I finally get a title shot for the Goddess Championship belt. I am lost for words, to be honest, as I didn’t think this opportunity would come to me as quick as it did or if I would ever get a shot. I mean, yes I have been on a role as a lot and over massively with the fans, but still, I am just shocked at this opportunity. I had to watch Odyssey again to make sure I heard Ms. Viola right the first time as I thought I may have heard her wrong, but no I heard her right the first time. Before I get my chance to impress her or Dulce, who will be on commentary for my match or everyone in the locker room, I begin my bizarre journey to the match with her by facing ‘The Shining Star” Cynthia Ali first.

(Roni takes in a deep breath before resuming)

Now, I know I technically have been on a journey when I defeated Lieta Collins, but to me, my main journey began at the Amazon Warfare Battle Royal. That is where I believe I showed everything I had to offer and showed that I always give one hundred percent and whether I win or lose, the fans are behind me and accept me. So even if I don’t get the belt, I still know I can be a champion in my own right. Now, Cynthia, I will be honest here, I don’t quite know a lot about you, but I do know you are a veteran of this sport and for it, I respect you at all cost no matter good or bad.

(Roni takes in another deep breath before resuming)

Actually, Cynthia, I have heard you can be sneaky when it comes to pinning someone, and while that might be the case I am sure you won’t get it over me as I will be on the lookout for it during our match. Even if you do manage to slip it by me, I can assure you I will make the most of that opportunity. I also have heard you can be a bit unpredictable, which is good for me. Now, that may seem weird to say, but hear me out. The reason I said it is good for me because it means I get a challenge and I will have to try to figure out how to counter each different style you know, and the unpredictability of this match makes me eager for it. I am sitting thinking of all the possibilities that could happen in our match from you being a straight brawler and fighting dirty to be quick to be high flying, and man I can’t wait for it. As this will be a challenge for me, and not to say Novita and the others weren’t, but this has a more of an a...surprise element to it and I dig it.

(There is now a fierce look on Roni’s face something we haven’t seen from her)

When we face off, Cynthia I do believe this will be my turning point from the awkward girl that has very little to no friends to a certified star and the first step to my real journey to the Goddess Championship belt and show that even if you don’t fit the common mold that you can soon be on top. Cynthia, I will say this again your style to change on a heartbeat is what I am most excited about as we will see if The Aerial Ace can burn The Shining Star out. In the end, if I win then great, and if I lose then great as well just means I have to get better. And Dulce while you are watching me and commentating I want you to take notes and be ready because come to Boiling Point, I will be on all cylinders and I can hope we will steal the show for Odyssey.

(Roni is seen smiling before the camera fades last week as we hear one last thing from Roni.)

See you in the sky, Cynthia...

Natalie Cage is walking through the Etihad Stadium in Manchester, England. As she walks out onto the pitch, she’s greeted by Manchester City manager, Pep Guardiola and City’s star player, Sergio Aguero. She exchanges handshakes with the two men and presents them with a replica OWA World Championship, complete with custom Manchester City sideplates, to commemorate their Premier League victory at the end of the season. We then cut to Natalie, alone, sitting in one of the seats in the vast but empty stadium, her belt around her shoulder and a smile on her face.
 
I left Manchester with nothing but the will and desire to do more. I left Manchester because I thought I’d been called to something greater. Turned out everything I needed was right where I’d come from. All I’ve done since day one is graft. I’ve worked my fingers to the bone to make the world I wanna see. I wasn’t always right. I wasn’t always fair. I can admit that, I’m a grown woman. I don’t run from reality; I don’t put on some big act so the world will think I serve some other purpose. I show up, fulfil my promises and get shit done. The world has enough crazy cunts. I know because I used to be one of them. Thinking that being wild and erratic would get me attention. That it’d fill some hole left in my heart by a parent who didn’t care enough or a lover who left for some better tail. That’s a toxic mindset to have, and it certainly isn’t the mindset of a winner.
 
Winning is something I’ve been doing a lot of. I’m from a city of winners. Whether it’s me or my beloved team, we seem to be incapable of not running into gold somehow. A great champion is defined by how they carry themselves when they’re on top. A great champion doesn’t spend all their time talking about how they won the belt. They’re more concerned with keeping it. That first defence is an important one, and I wanted to make sure I picked a suitable candidate.
 
In some ways, this is a dream match. Though your current state of mind won’t allow that, Savannah. I don’t think there’s some remnant of the old Sav in there that’s been corrupted by this Persephone Bane bitch. I think you just got fucking bored of being a loser and figured you could get some attention by changing things up a bit. Hey, it’s a sound strategy, more power to you. Thing is, it’s not a winning strategy, is it? You wanna talk about how cruel you are? How much punishment you’ll inflict? Tell me, what exactly have you done since your mental shopping spree at Hot Topic? I mean, you got eliminated from the Clash in about a minute – a match I won, by the way – went away for a while, came back and…?
 
Sweet fuck all, that’s what. What the fuck happened, Sav? At least Jess had the balls to admit she was a failure. You’re just living in denial. Didn’t you lose your first match after you started calling yourself Persephone? Didn’t you fail in the Ascensions to the Heavens ladder match at Final Destination? What, you think you’re suddenly qualified to be champion? I mean, you apparently don’t care for material possessions but…
 
Natalie starts to caress her title.
 
...this sexy little number can make people betray themselves. I didn’t select you to be my first defence because I think you’re some great competitor. I did it to set an example. I did it because you pissed me off and that can’t go unpunished. What kind of a champ would I be if I let some Evanescence cosplayer walk into MY ring on MY show and try to steal the spotlight? You knew exactly what the fuck you were doing because it was the same fucking strategy that I used when I was a clueless newbie. It’s the same strategy Diantha used to get her shot at Azumi at Pluto’s Gate.
 
It’s a tale as old as fucking time. Popular woman gets belt. Crazy bitch sneak attacks her to finesse a title shot. Champ. Fucking. Wins. TyAnna retained against me and Diantha. Azumi retained against Diantha as well. And now you’re the next one on the chopping block. The next mentally unstable fucker who think that they’re somehow gonna burn this shit down. This industry’s survived rape scandals, murder cover-ups, racism, homophobia, sexism and God knows what else. But yeah, you’re the key to tearing down the establishment. One woman who hasn’t been relevant in over a year is gonna put a stop to the single most dominant Alpha in the company today.
 
You can talk all the shit you like, it’s not gonna matter when you meet another dead-end. I mean for fuck’s sake, you couldn’t even let me beat your little bestie on my own. I’ve got a tainted victory over Jessica Rose because you’ve got insecurity issues. And now we’re in a situation where we can really test the mettle of one little Jessica Rose.
 
Yeah Jess, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. I’m not a rash decision maker, not anymore. I didn’t ask Viola to make you guest ref for the fun of it. I want you in my sights at all times while I’m pummelling the woman you were once so close to. I wanna make you watch as her teeth fly out and her bones break and not be able to do anything about it. I wanna see the Sugar Girls well and truly stomped out once and for all. Back in the day, you were an entertaining little act, but the world has to move on from relics of the past who never lived up to their potential. Neither of you are in this for redemption, you’re desperately trying to cling on because you can’t admit to yourselves that you’ve been surpassed. You laid down the foundations for fuck all. This division was built by winners. Women who stepped up and did what you couldn’t. I’m sick of this trailblazer bullshit. Just because you were there at the start, doesn’t mean you can take responsibility for where we are.
 
Fuck, as much as I hate the bitch, Roxy did more for this division at 18 than you two did in your entire careers. She made TyAnna a star, then Azumi stepped up, and then I entered the picture. That’s the line of succession, ladies. You’ve just had to watch from the side lines as the star players have lit the world on fire. All you do is talk about some amazing change. Some shift in momentum. You just never fucking do it. I know I’m supposed to carry myself with a certain air of humility now that I’m champ but fuck me am I gonna enjoy making both of you suffer.
 
Don’t get me wrong, Jess, I like you. You’re alright. But much like your little friend, defiance won’t go unanswered. You kicked me in the head for no reason other than the fact that you’ve got some weird loyalty to a cunt who clearly doesn’t give a shit about you anymore. I’m not gonna lay a finger on you, but I am gonna love seeing you count that pinfall as I shove Sav’s shoulders into the mat and retain my title. What are you gonna do? Be a biased ref? Do you think that’s gonna win her back? And Sav, what do you think’s gonna happen? You think that you can intimidate me with the spook routine? Bitch, I wrote the book on that shit. I was hanging with cult leaders and performing blood rituals back when you had a lollipop shoved up your arse like a genderbending Willy Wonka. This mind games shit? This “I’m gonna tear you apart and take the scraps” spiel? Been there. Done that. It doesn’t work, because we all know that it’s a poor substitute for substance.
 
Do you think it upsets me when you tell me that all I care about is the gold? The money? The fame? Have you ever listened to anything I’ve ever said ever? I’ve been very clear that I fucking love being the centre of attention. Every time I walk past a mirror with this bad boy over my shoulder, I have to stop and stare because I just look so fucking good with it. Every time I look at my bank account and know that I could just fucking buy a house on a whim and be good, that makes me happy. Every time I remember that I get to fuck the most powerful woman in OWA on the regular, it just reminds me that I’m better off than I was a year ago. What have you got to live for, eh? What’s so special about the life of Savannah Sunshine? All I see is a woman who wasted her shot and is now outwardly expressing her regret. The new look won’t save you. The violent mood swings won’t bring you what you want. All you’ve accomplished is getting on my nerves more than you usually do. And for that, I look forward to taking you out to the woodshed and putting you down. It’s funny you made an Old Yeller reference, because both barrels are currently up against your skull and my trigger finger’s very itchy.

Olympus Promo 1: Trite


The camera opens to only darkness and the sound of running water.

"I've taken my licks before."


The sound of a tap squeakily closing with the turn of a faucet handle fills the darkness.

"Go figure I get in my first solo fight with a Bostonian and get bum rushed by a group of boys.  It's not the first time.  It wont be the last."


The camera opens on a shot of a water filled porcelain  basin.

"I wont discredit the Bruiser though.  I don't think those guys were with him, although I do feel like a modern day Nostradamus predicting that I couldn't finish a one on one battle with a Mass hole without someone else getting their shots in."


A solitary drop of blood hits the water with a satisfying liquid sound.

"Some would say I won that match.  I don't feel like I won.  My face, it doesn't feel like it won.  I didn't get to carve up Bruiser like a turkey with a railroad spike, so I'm going to go ahead and say that I didn't win despite the record books saying otherwise."


Another crimson drop falls into the sink, this time followed close behind by two more.

"Bruiser's getting a shot at the TV title, which is what he wanted, so it seems like he won.  Pfft...prize fighters.  They're all alike.  They act like they want to win with their knuckles and earn their way, but in the end it's their running mouths that get them shots at the big time.  I can't say that I care.  I don't want gold.  Hell, I don't want the big time...still...I find myself resenting those who claim to be hunters for going out and picking these ripe fruits of my labor off of my tree of work while they're fresh and low hanging.  Again, I'm not going to eat it.  I'd let it rot on the vine if I had it my way.  I'd make men like Bull Connors watch from the sidelines, sitting on the other side of the fence of the land that I've made my property.  I'd watch them starve, thirst, and then whither away in the wind faster than their empty proclamations of dominion."


Almost as if someone suddenly rung out a washcloth, a giant geyser of blood hits the water with an interrupting splat.  After the sudden gush, tiny droplets of crimson fall like drizzle.

"You have pride.  Bullheaded, foolhardy, pride.  You're no different than the rest of the men I've battled in OWA thus far.  You're just another windbag with taped knuckles and a fragile sense of self.  You think you're the best? so did Jake Keeton, but Jake Keeton quit trying to be the best once he got into the ring with me now didn't he? Instead he reverted to his basest instincts, and it still didn't result in a victory...or at least not a victory he wanted.  You think you're the toughest like the Boston Bruiser? Well, I showed him that I could outlast him and out tough him.  I put him away cleanly and left plenty of marks on his body for him to remember who I am long after he's forgotten."


As the blood finally subsides, Derelict reaches into the now crimson waters and pulls the stopper out of the basin, letting his life essence swirl down the drain in a charming peppermint formation.

"I suppose you'll say you're different than those two? Well...you aren't.  You all think you are, but you aren't.  You think you're special and unique with your own destinies and back stories, but really you're just another body in the ring trying to make ends meet or make something of yourself.  You're not some one in a million street tough from Boston, you're not the only man who owns a pair of wrestling boots who ever tried hard to master his craft...


The camera pans up to reveal a rest stop mirror where the bald head of the Derelict reflects back into it's lens.  He cuts his bloodshot and half swollen shut eyes in a thoughtful way filled with a doom and gloom of understanding.

...you're not an invasive and soulless abomination from Bourbon Street, or some monster from the North who came out of the belly of the roughest and toughest Bowery on the planet."


The faucet clicks back to life as the top half of Derelict's face ducks back beneath the mirror's frame as gurgles echo off of the unwashed, bloody hand print covered, and vandalized rest stop walls.

"You're un-uniquely you...just like everyone else....matter of fact, I've all but forgotten who I'm talking to..."


Derelict reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wadded up run sheet for next week's Olympus.  He unravels it, holding it up over his face to block half of his reflection in the mirror as his blood filled eyes read over the card.

"Bull Connors? "Unbreakable" Bull Connors?  Heh he heh..."


Derelict flips the page to find more writing. Confused, he reads along the laundry list of Bull Connors nicknames

"What..what's this other shit? pet names his wife gave him?  Goddamn son, pick one!"


Derelict rips the run sheet in half, revealing his mangled nose in the process.  He rolls the papers between his fingers, and then shoves the twisted run sheet halves up each nostril to cease the bleeding.

"I mean a man shouldn't have more handles than his body does, and you definitely have two massive love handles.  Those will come in handy when I decide to pick you up and toss your flatso ass anywhere I want it to go.  Maybe I can help you narrow it down to one pat on the back every entrance and save the asthmatic announcer's life?"


Derelict holds out one hand and snot rockets one half of the run sheet out into it.  He unravels the blood clotted paper and holds it up to read.

"Raging? Then people are just going to call you a hard on, which you are.  Nix that one.  The ticking time bomb? We're not talking about your cardiovascular status, so let's take that one out.  The Philly Flier? Not bad.  Again, I will be throwing you around so there's no worries about living up to that one.  The Nittany Lion? more like the South Philly Sloth.  The Pride of Penn State? *whistles* didn't know Penn was going through that hard of a time.  Granted, they're not Ivy league or anything.  I'm not sure who should be more ashamed with the association, so maybe get rid of that one. 'Fucking'? That one kind of falls in line with the problems with 'raging'.  No thank you.  A lot of these are just banal tough guy jargon that any pub hound whose ever punched his pregnant wife would use, so let's skip past a few of the generics here.  I mean, don't get me wrong.  They suit you, because you're not unique, but let's hit the end of the alphabet here with your Rolodex, Unbreakable...? Well, i suppose that one remains to be seen.  I've had two men tell me that something about them was unbreakable, whether it was their sportsman's resolve or their jaw.  Both parties were incorrect in their assessment of how breakable those things were.    You're no different Bull, because you're not different. After all anything that can be built up, whether it be by one man or many, can be torn down, demolished, and desecrated.  Once you come to terms with your mortality, the more time you have to make funeral plans for yourself.  I'll even make sure they play that 90's angry white boy music for you for your procession if it's important to you.  Maybe I'll pop out that Pantera cassette and flip to the b-side for "Regular People".  Maybe I'll pop in "Far Beyond Driven" and play "I'm Broken". Or how 'bout this? Since it's an extra a'special occasion, I'll pop in some Rage and lay you down to rest to "Sleep Now In The Fire"? might even make it a cremation just to fit the theme without being too accurate with your soul's eternal fate.  Hell I can pop down to the Goodwill right now and swipe a few of those albums for you if you'd like.


Derelict shakes his head in disgust as he ironically shoves the disgusting run sheet back up his nose casually.

"Bring all your moves and fancy holds.  I've had two matches and I feel like I've seen them all before.  No matter, I'll stomp, punch, and kick the shit out of you regardless.  That's all I need to do.  That's all I ever needed to do.  Technique is for the cattle who are taught to line up single file to get their skulls punched in.  Me? I'm the guy at the end of the line toting the bolt pistol, but instead of lobotomizing you like a cattle farmer, I'm simply there to point at the hole that's already in your head,  I didn't put it there.  It was placed there by the indoctrination of weak men who came before you that thought they could bypass a genetic advantage with choreographed and cookie cutter offense.  They took the chaos out of fighting, and that's why they'll always lose against bigger opponents who don't subscribe to their indoctrination.  Every king of combat has been subdued by a wild punch they weren't expecting.  Every god of war has been fell by a massive regime rebel forces with guerrilla tactics of their own.  I'm not playing your game, Bull.  I'm not buying into the hype that you've surrounded yourself with in your own little bubble of existence.  I'm not a wrestler.  I will not wrestle you.  Maybe you know that, maybe you understand that they don't just put wrestlers in front of me anymore.  Maybe you get that they want to test your mettle and see what kind of fight you have in you.  They did it with Bruiser, so I wouldn't be surprised if they're doing the same with you.  They want to give you a participation trophy for trying and surviving me.  They want to pay you for drawing my blood and taking the punishment that I deal out.  You say you're hungry, so they're feeding you dog food to test whether or not you have the stomach to face some of the atrocities it takes to carry out in order to get to the top.  They wont outright say it, but they think I'm your stepping stone to bigger and better things.  They know that I'll do everything to you and they want to know if this cow can walk out of the chute with a bolt through it's skull and still keep going.  They know I'm not here to do anything but maliciously maim and get my rocks off.  They know you're here for the glory, and that I'll do everything within me to make sure you don't walk out of our match. I'm not here to eat the burgers.  I'm not here to make them.  I'm here to supply the meat on a silver platter that I'll never get to touch.  The question is if you'll come out of the kitchen well done after I serve you up rare."


Derelict hocks a bloody loogie into the sink and kicks the rest stop door open.

"All this food talk's made me hungry.  Maybe I'll go snag some dog food...


Derelict leaves the bathroom grumbling

"beats the hell out of a philly cheese steak..."


As the door swings closed, the camera's left with the horror show Derelict has wrought within this confined space.

It was dark as a brooding figure sat by a stream.  The camera cuts to the dog drinking water.  The hooded figure then removes it to reveal The Udy. 

The Udy :  Kenny it has been almost a month now that wr have been running around the perimeter of each other's territory.  And the day we actually face each other, the day The Demon Wolf stands toe to toe with The Omega Wolf,  is almost upon us.  It will be glorious man.  You see this kingdom the darkness will cover your existence up.  As fear and doubt will creep into your psyche,  your soul will look for its deliverance.  Kenny I am not a mere mortal,  nor am I your fictional monster.  I am the instrument of your deliverance.  When Cage betrayed you,  it was beginning of Karma hitting back at you.  All the years of pitiful arrogance and all the pains you caused,  it came back to haunt you.  And I will be the grim reaper who finally puts the final nail in the coffin of your end.  

The dog walks up and sits beside Udy.  He looks up and howls as Udy starts muttering something. 

The Udy: Kenny let's end this on Kingdom this week. Let your self be engulfed in the painful eradication.  It's over for you Kenny.  It's over. 

Udy starts laughing maniacally as demonic chants start up..

️”No New Friends” by LSD plays as a low bop, as Jonetta Stone is seen at a tea party table. The tea table is colourful with white, yellow, and pink flowery designed covered tea cups. Jonetta is in a white and yellow sailor outfit, sitting on a white wolf fur covered chair. Three chairs are left over as a Dollhouse Dreamhouse housekeeper comes around to take a seat next to Jonetta.️

Jonetta: No sweetie, that’s Roxy’s chair.

️The housekeeper walks around Jonetta to the other chair next to her, on her opposite side.️

Jonetta: DiVa’s.

️The housekeeper goes all the way to the opposite side of where Jonetta is at the table and takes her seat in a what’s obviously a child’s chair, I’m talking younger than preteens. The woman is uncomfortable but stays professional as Jonetta smiles.️

Jonetta: Perfect. Don’t you pout! You couldn’t have expected that Roxy or DiVa would want to look directly at the help or lower guests if they were here, let alone hear that someone had been sitting in their chairs when they’re not, could you? As for me, I kind of enjoy eye contact, they are the window to the soul of otherwise boring creatures. Have you ever locked eyes with a little cutie before their life goes out? Not people of course, beasts.

Housekeeper: No, I can’t say I have mam.

Jonetta: Awww such a shame, you should try it sometime. Start out with the little ones first if you’re afraid, some only value the big prey, but they all present their unique challenges and thrills. It’s much like wrestling, it doesn’t matter who you step into the ring with if you have the right mindset, no matter how low tier…disgusting….filthy they are…You can get a certain feeling watching them squirm, notice how their bodies start to move differently after you hit them, or catch the expression in their eyes when they start to realize that you’re zeroing in on a victory over them that can’t stop. It’s such a feeling~~

Housekeeper: Mam, you have a match with Novita…

Jonetta: Oh yes, that the famous Nobi’s sister. I wish I was facing her brother, maybe I could hang his past championships on my wall, or have them melted down to then form nice little rings around my fingers. The shame with most people is unlike animals, most people like Novita, don’t have anything you can make accessories out of nor hang over your mantle.  You know people always ask me, “are you in the fur and ivory hunting business because you like fashion or is it a power thing?” It’s such a basic girl level question, it would be like asking me if I enjoy tag team gold because it represents being on top of the division or if it’s because I love the look of gold on me. Who says it’s an either or! Pish posh! It’s all intertwined! Fashion has always been about power, always about showcasing your class in wealth or in IQ by being able to put a good wardrobe together! People wore what they wore to show themselves as nobles and if they weren’t nobles they could show they were educated enough to know what was in style! Which brings me to my ill fashioned opponent, this hunchback slouching menace who has wasted her good looks and wrestling ability by way of terrible self presentation, that shows she wasn’t raised to mind her posture or to dress for the occasion of being displayed in front of others!  

Worse she acts like a tom…(Jonetta comes off finding it hard to say the word and almost about to puke.)..tom……TOMBOY!

Housekeeper: Ms Jonetta, I thought such vulgar words were forbidden in this house!

Jonetta: I know, I know, put a dollar from my coffers into the swear jar, but I had no choice when describing my opponent! She’s the type you can imagine wearing backwards caps and leather jackets! If Serena Williams can carry herself like a lady by wearing cat suits and tutus when dominating the court, no one woman in OWA has an excuse to act like being a serious athlete means you have to dress manly! There is no reason for women to emulate men in any shape or form! There is no reason in a time when our three top singles world champions and our one world tag team champions are all women, that we’d have one of them called an “alpha male”! No reason that womanhood would not be embraced to its apex! Even if Novita by miracle denied the boy word I uttered earlier, she still covets the fame of men by using the Mat Magician moniker dropped down to her when her brother stopped using it! She’s like some poverty-stricken kid willing to take her sibling’s hand me downs, but unlike with clothes you don’t even need money to come up with your own persona, so how pathetic is that?! All because some women refuse to step out of the shadow of men, if they admit it or not!

I present to all the little girls out there an alternative path, a better mindset! One where shopping and gossiping, great tools for women to climb the ladder, are not stigmatized by the anti social!

Women are the more versatile gender, sure men have their use like heavy manual labour, but women are the ones have the ability to exude beauty and strength simultaneously.  How many men do you know can brawl in high heels? I can. How many men could walk down a catwalk wearing a coat with fur they had skinned off a beast by themselves? You know I have. I’ve been an athlete and hunter all my life, but I have never lost touch with my femininity. When I was on the ice rink playing hockey as a young girl in Ottawa, a lot of the girls who had ogre like features thought that meant they had the strength of ones too, but that never stopped me from knocking them out with a good right, well taken care of, hand! Just like I have no issue coming out in pinup costume before I do my work in the ring! Silk hides steel, get yourselves educated ladies and look it up! It wouldn’t hurt to become slightly well read!

Every fine lady has a certain love for poetry, accidental or not, much like the Dollhouse when it found it’s third doll go from porcelain to ivory, just like the skin of Sansa Stark. Why not continue unattended poetics by having a goddess replace a goddess, Aphrodite replaced by OWA’s new Athena!
The goddess of war, and yet even in her armour, Athena still wore a dress. Novita has no right to be in, let alone win, this tournament. Not when an Athena in the flesh stands right here!

Housekeeper: And yet some say Novita’s wrestling acumen is a problem, regardless of where she’s gotten it, she’s the mat magician.

Jonetta: OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!

Sorry, from which wrestling school did she graduate? We’re all meant to give her credit because she has a cute nickname? I’m sure she’s been trained well, but you’d have to be fooled by my beauty if you ignored me making my opponent tap out last Odyssey and think I can’t keep up with any wrestler in the world. I graduated as the valedictorian of the Wrestling Grotto, a place far harsher than any other school or even dungeon, it was headed by the all-American wrestler Jack Miles! To doubt my wrestling ability is a fatal mistake! Even if she a better wrestler, which I don’t acknowledge as fact, I have the striking and instincts advantage of someone trained not by her family, but by professional trainers and the wild. Does anyone think sweet Nobi taught her a killer’s instinct? Anyone think she ever felt danger in that ring with him? I’ve been around cutthroats and feral animals most of my life, I know it is destroy or be destroyed out there!

Novita, you unkempt Neanderthal! Just as is done to the wrinkled and stained clothes brought to the dry cleaners, a raggedy MUTT like you is going to get starched!

️Jonetta makes a disgusted sneer and lightly tosses a napkin at the camera to end the video.️

Jonetta Stone. Who the fuck are you?

Oh, that's right, you are a Persephone Bane second rate replacement in The Dollhouse.

Well, I know how mediocre you are but you're so smart by joining The Doll-House. It makes you instantly a champion without putting any efforts. I don't care how much hours you like to spend to spread gossips or shopping at malls with Roxy and Diva but it makes me sick to my stomach to see you in here.

Not just because you're a champion in an instant but just because I hate your face. You are so ugly and that makes me want to punch you right in the face. Well, don't worry though sweatheart, at least Roxy and Diva will baby-sit you once I do that to you.

The Tuesday night: 

Udy almost had the match won. All he needed was to pin the young man. But suddenly he snapped.

Udy hammered a knee into the man’s nose that broke the nasal bone. Bloods gashed out and the referee tried to intervene and ate a punch. 

Udy kept an front face lock on his opponent and drove a series of knees and the ring got covered in blood. Fans were stunned silent at first then erupted in loud riot.

There was only one thing ringing in his ears..

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.

Udy dropped the man. And rubs the blood on his own face and chest. Then picked the man up again and hit a stiff elbow, followed by another and another and another…and…finally dropped him with a bicycle knee turning him inside out.


“The Demon Wolf” kneels down beside the fallen and bloody body and starts muttering something…some kind of chanting.


A Backstage Blur:

Udy was escorted out by few police officers and put in a cell.

It was all a blur to him though. The camera man reported his opponent has charged him with negligence and physical harm.

The man was suffering fro  legit concussion and needed 32 stitches.  As well has a broken orbital bone and dislocated jaw. 


The beatdown turned legit at one point. 


SHIT!


Udy was spiraling to that rabbit hole again where kayfabe and reality blurred…

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

STUPID. STUPID. STUPID.

He was in the cell for 2 days before he was taken straight to the court house.
The Court House:

His lawyers and manager paid off the victim and settled the case in the meeting room of the court. They quarter of a million dollars to shut him up and portray the whole thing is as a angle gone wrong.

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

STUPID. STUPID. STUPID.

Udy walked out a free man but he still didn’t know what happened.
Dr. Idon H.’s clinic

Udy was sitting in the chair directly staring at Dr. Idon H. In his mind, he was comparing this prick to his old doctor. That old gnome of a man. That old man was like a father to him and was one of very few people Udy cared about. That man who just vanished one day.

Dr. Idon : “Let's start with what happened.”

Udy: “You know what happened. I almost killed that guy during my last match.”

Dr. Idon: “Yes I know. But what happened that caused what happened?

Udy hated Idon for his twisting words and perspectives. At this moment, he wanted to take the chair he was sitting on and smash it over his head till its a pulpy bloody mess.

Udy: “I don’t know. One moment I was doing the angle as planned and the next moment I was beating the living crap out of him.  I can still smell his blood on me”
A voice inside his head says “And I like it”

Dr. Idon: “You didn't kill him. He is safe now. Beat up and bloody but safe. So tell me are you still wanting t-o—o--o  kiiill-lll-lll so----me------o----n-----eeeeeeee  ??????”

Udy felt as if Idon is stretching his words..It felt strange, drawly and distorted..Udy feels dizzy all of a sudden and there was a flash of white light. He felt himself standing up and gripping the chair..




“Udy hammered a knee into the man’s nose that broke the nasal bone. Bloods gashed out and the referee tried to intervene and ate a punch. 

Udy kept an front face lock on his opponent and drove a series of knees and the ring got covered in blood. Fans were stunned silent at first then erupted in loud riot.

There was only one thing ringing in his ears..

BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.”

Udy:  “You!”,

He tried to rise but he could not. He tried and tried and then he collapsed..From the white blinding light came the Old Gnome...

Gnome: “Relax. Take a deep breath!”

Udy: “Jey! Is that really you? You are here?”

Gnome: “I am always here.”

Udy: “I almost killed someone. I lost my control. It was like old days again!”

Gnome: “You let them get into your head kid.”

Udy: “Whom?”

Gnome: “Them”

Udy: “I don't.........”

Dr. Idon: “Don't let them get into your head....”

Udy opened his eyes and saw the light was gone and so was Jey. He was half lying on the floor and Dr. Idon was staring at him with those cold crazy eyes.

Dr. Idon: “Well then. This session is over. Pay the bill at the counter.”

Udy stood up and left the office. Idon was a dick. He would never help but always take his money. He decided this was his last visit to Idon.
The cabin in the woods:

It was raining again and Udy was drinking heavily. He had a intense work out at the gym and his body hurt. He looked at his hands and looked at the mirror. Who was this guy in the mirror? Was it he or someone else? Something else?

Udy knows he has a match and he knows this is his chance to take the next step into OWA. 

Their was a flash of lightening and a gush of wind blows out the candle. The reflection on the mirror looked fearsome in the shadows. 


The shadow in the shadow....

Udy stuck a match and relight the candle. He was in a state of psychotic breakdown. Or was this a normal stage of....the change.

What change? Udy thought. He is fucked up he knew. His kay-fabe and reality was so fucked up that he rarely knew what’s real and what’s fake?

The Dog walked in with what looked like a rabbit carcass in its mouth.

It  walks off as Udy looks at the candle. His eyes were as dark and crazy.




Udy: “Kenny Drake I wanted the fight and I will bring it to you this week.  You have constantly tried to stir the pot and see what you have unleashed man.  You will pay for waking the dormant beast.  You see I tried to be live with some semblance of sanity for last few years.  But…But”, Udy presses his hands on his face and sniffles and snorts and the removes them to show the demonic face paint.




The Dog walks in and seats beside the chair.




Udy: “You Kenny have summoned the evil.  You are the one who was responsible for the poor man’s fate.  You Kenny you are the sinner.  You thought you scared me?  Kenny all you did was bring out that ancient evil out to the forefront that I kept hidden for so long.  You call yourself A wolf Kenny?  You are just a mere mortal with a death wish.  You are just an idiot who has bitten more than you can chew. You talk about Lurking in the shadows?  Kenny I will let the darkness seep in slowly and eat away the false light of hope you posses.  I will let the darkness engulf your existence.  I will be the architect who breaks down wall of lies and will lay the foundation for your existential crisis.  Kenny I will rip open and expose that you are nothing and I will let you cower and I will let your blood flow into the mat and will baptize you with the crimson.  Kenny this Kingdom you won’t face Udy that you have seen till now.  Kenny this week at Kingdom, Omega will fall at the altar of the Demon Wolf that has manifested due to your constant summoning and moaning.  And when all’s set and done, may be I will also finish off what’s left of you in Nikki.  This week man….this week at Kingdom “The Demon Wolf” rises first time at OWA and he will reign with terror forever.  Run Kenny.”


Udy lets out a crazed laugh as the Dog howls beside him...


As Udy blows out the candle, some kind off demonic chant starts in the background.

Fuck u keelan

Queens, NY.

(The camera opens to OWA Cruiserweight Champion Kevin Maverick signing autographs at an OWA fan event hosted by Cricket Wireless. The OWA Cruiserweight Championship is seated on the table next to him. After a few more meet and greets, Kevin grabs his title leaves the table. The camera follows him outside and into the back of a black SUV. As they drive off, the cheers of fans could still be heard in the background.)

“That was just a glimpse of what it’s like being an OWA champion. Next Friday it’s my first match on Olympus and already I’m the main event. Not trying to sound arrogant or anything but it’s good to know when someone values what you bring to the table. Alessandro and I had one of the best matches at OWA. Despite how we may feel about each other, we freaking tore the house down. And now I find myself face to face against an Olympic legend. Greatest Showman vs Olympic Gold Medalist. What a freaking way to start out Friday Night Olympus! I have all of the respect in the world for Hans Olsen, but he didn’t win a medal for the kind of wrestling we do in OWA. The match doesn’t start out with either of us on the mat. We’re duking it out in the squared circle, mano-a-mano. That ring is my domain, Hans.  It’s my canvas where I paint my masterpieces one at a time. You should be fortunate that we’re main eventing in several days. It means that The Greatest Showman will perform at his best. You will get the best of me, Hans. A man as accomplished as he deserves as much. I appreciate everything you’ve done for this country, but now it’s time for someone to remind you that those days are in the past. You are not Hans Olsen, Olympic gold medalist anymore. You are Hans Olsen, an Olympus roster member. I’m the OWA Cruiserweight Champion. I say this because what got me this far was something that goes beyond my natural talent and ability. You know damn well what I’m referring to. That grit, that edge that propels you farther and farther no matter what stands in your way. You had that moment to show who you were, and now it’s my turn, Hans. Don’t take things personally. It’s just a day in the life of The Picasso of Pro Wrestling.”

(Maverick sighs, staring out the window as the camera fades to black.)