KINGDOM PROMO #2

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin"

[We find Jack once again inside of his own personal butcher shop.  It remains as dark and dreary as it was the first time we visited here.  However, there is a new addition to the shop the camera seems to focus on particularly.  On the stone wall, nailed in a crucifix-like pose is a row of some kind of small animal.  Squirrel?  Rat?  The body is so decomposes it's hard to tell.  What is NOT hard to tell is that above one of these corpses is a picture of Mace...Jack's first victim.  As the camera scans along the side of the wall, it is clear that these are trophies of some kind.  Deadly reminders of his victims and conquests.  Jack, wearing his leather apron, looks lovingly at the empty space beside Mace, clearly imagining the face of Scotty Adams there.]

Jack The Ripper:  You know what you remind me of my sweet Scotty Adams?  You remind me of an old parrot is used to have as a child.  I loved that bird.  I was so impressed with how well he imitated human speech.  I would teach him various words and phrases, give him treats as he learned, believing him to be intelligent enough to one day grow to hold a actual human conversation with me.  He was my pet, my constant companion.  But as I grew older I began to see that he was no magic bird who could magically speak human language.  He didn't understand at all the meaning behind the words he spoke.  He simply repeated what he had heard because he knew he would be rewarded with a treat if he did.  In the end he was just a stupid little bird.  And so, once I realize that...I killed that old friend of mine!  I took his head and popped it clean off like a cork from a champagne bottle.  Why?  Because I couldn't stand the lie that I had been told!  I couldn't deal with the rage that animal filled me with, as he stood there on his perch, squawking whatever pointless words I had taught him.  That's when it hit me!  The core system upon which I have built my legacy and my reign of terror...I cannot abide liars!

[He turns away from that spot on the wall and looks into the camera.  And for once, we see something entirely different from Jack...hatred!  Pure, unadulterated rage!  It is as if the fires of damnation echo behind his pupils, promising eternal Hell for those who look to deeply into them.] 

You remind me of that parrot Scotty, because here you come just like him, repeating the same old phrases, thinking that you'll be rewarded with victory for spouting them.  But just like him, you do not truly understand the meaning of what you say.  If I were to listen to my darker instincts, I would find you now and popped off your head as easily as I did his!  But since I also find your innocence endearing as well, I shall abstain...for the moment!  Instead I shall enlighten you to the truth behind what you ask.  For nothing is more pathetic or sad than a child who asks a question and doesn't even know he already has the answer.  You still ask if I am afraid?  The answer is...of course I am!  But not afraid in the same way you are afraid.  My fear is that, one day, I will not longer be able to be true to myself.  That I will be unable to indulge in these depravities that make me smile.  Because the truth of the matter is i cannot look into the darkness...because I AM DARKNESS ITSELF!!!  I am the shadow that spreads out into the world, causing all the ugliness you pathetic humans try to hide.  You run from what you truly are, disguising it with pretty words such as "valor" or "purity."  Society is a chain that keeps us from acting on our deepest desires and impulses.  If you knew there were no consequences, what would keep you from ripping my eyes out here and now?  Nothing at all!  The same goes for the rest of you shacks of meat!  You listen to what others tell you is right and wrong, unaware that we have within us the answer to those questions.  That nothing is wrong and everything is right!!!  We are animals trying to pretend we are civil.  That is my fear!  A fear of a world without madness and violence!  A world that tries to hold me back from giving others the sweet gift of death.  And whether you want to admit it or not...I am a necessary evil in this world.  Without me, you would have no comparison in which to base your "purity" on.  Without my darkness, you wouldn't even know what the light is.  That is your fear Scotty!  You fear to learn that all your struggles, all your internal revelations, The fear that deep down inside...you know that you need me!  You know there isn't much difference between you and I!  We are two sides of the same coin Scotty.  Without evil, there can be no good.  And because of that, I and all I kill for will be forever eternal!  You can fight and rage against it all you want, but your struggle will be in vain.  My struggle, however, will always be that of victory.  Cause I seek not to wipe out all that is good in the world.  For without good, what point is there in my grotesque works of art?  No I need you to be there Scotty to look upon my legacy with revulsion and disgust.  For those are but music to my eyes and ears.  To see the looks of disgust as I come to the ring, to hear the curses begging for my head...it's everything I could want!  But you NEED the praise and adulation of others in order to survive.  If you don't have that...if you fail them...what are you really?        

[Jack spreads his arms wide, as if offering a hug to the viewer.  He spins around and around and around.  His scowl dissolves into the smile of an innocent child at play.  It's hard to tell which look is more unsettling.]  


You think you know darkness?  You think you know lose and tragedy?!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!  Oh my dear sweetling...you have no idea what suffering truly is!  Suffering isn't losing something or someone.  It isn't the pain we feel from physical injury or mental anxiety.  Suffering is, and always will be, in its purest form...hopelessness!  That moment when you finally have no alternative but to accept that all is lost.  That your fate is beyond your control.  That is was ALWAYS beyond your control.  That everything you've ever done, ever been, has been strung along by another to lead you to this moment.  A moment not at all what you expected.  Not glorious or righteous or grand.  But ignominious and small.  That is the fate that awaits you this Sunday Scotty!  An end to your struggle that achieves nothing!  An final curtain call of which nobody will see you bow!  A fight that shows the futility of EVERYTHING you hold dear and true.  I only thank the Gods that dear Joely won't be here to see you fail.  


Fear never truly leaves us Scotty.  It only hides just below the surface, waiting for something to remind us it's there.              

[Jack smiles wider than before and falls to the floor...laughing!


Fade to black.]

[Immediately following his match at Vindication, Isaac manages to walk to the back under his own power. His representatives try to help him, but he shoves them aside. He just looks straight ahead of him, paying no attention to anyone else. An OWA interviewer starts walking towards the disgruntled Isaac Thornton.]

Interviewer: Isaac, tough loss out there tonight. What is—

[An OWA security guard gets in between them, so Isaac no longer has to deal with the gnat that this that interviewer. But think about what just happened. Isaac turned down an interview. He declined to be in the spotlight, which is very unlike him. Isaac has quite the temper, it’s well-documented by now. Usually when he is upset, he lets the world know with a loud roar. But tonight, he’s biting his tongue. Isaac walks until he reaches this long hallway, with nowhere to turn he just stands there as he rips his wrist tape off with his teeth. He’s fuming, but he’s trying so hard to keep his emotions in check. Isaac’s agent, who he calls Agent Andy, tries to comfort his client.]

Agent Andy: There’s my star! Look, don't worry about tonight, you’ll get ‘em next time!

Isaac: ...

Agent Andy: Why such the long face, huh? Because of one loss? Who cares when at the end of the day, you’re still Isaac fucking Thornton?! And that’ll never change! 

Isaac: ...

Agent Andy: C’mon, what’s on your mind? You need to vent, or else you’re gonna have a heart attack from all this stress and rage!

[Isaac carefully thinks it over for a few seconds. He debates whether he should speak or not. Eventually he caves and finally voices his frustration. But he isn’t yelling with his response. He’s actually pretty calm.]

Isaac: I’m sick, Andy. 

Agent Andy: Oh? Let’s go to the hospital real quick. Get everything sorted out. 

Isaac: No, that’s not it. You didn’t let me finish. What I’m sick of is wasting my time. That’s all I’ve been doing here — wasting my precious time. Time I won’t get back! Oh and I’m also sick of coming up short in these “big time matches.” This shit needs to be nerfed. Call up SSW or something. I’ll go there instead. 

[For once, Isaac seems vulnerable. Almost defeated. He doesn’t have much motivation, if at all. Confidence has never been an issue with Isaac, until now.]

Agent Andy: You want the truth? The honest to god truth? You aren’t meant to win these matches. Not yet. I’m not doubting your talent. Not for one second! Where you are with such limited experience, is nothing short of spectacular. You need to hold your head high. Look at where you are! You are already battling against the likes of Aria Jaxon and Finnegan Wakefield on pay-per-view. Just imagine what you will accomplish when you gain more experience? It’s mouthwatering. So don’t look at this as losing. Look at it as learning. You are only going to get better with time and you will one day, in the near future, hold world title gold. I’m sure of it!

Isaac: Wow, I don’t know what to say..

Agent Andy: It’s all good, man. Sometimes we just need words of encouragement. 

[Isaac sticks his hand out and Agent Andy shakes it.]

Isaac: Yeah..you’re fired. 

Agent Andy: WHAT? WHY?!?!!?!

Isaac: Because nobody likes a know-it-all, bitch! 

[Isaac walks away. This next part is current day. Isaac is sitting in his massage chair in his office as a man and woman are fanning him with palm leaves because Isaac is all about equality. Just a really good dude imo.]

Isaac: Sooooo - Vindication didn’t exactly go the way I originally planned or hoped. That should go without saying. Another tally in the loss column for yours truly, I guess. It’s sickening though, it really is, to watch a man with my unlimited talent, with my stardom and reputation, to fall at the feet of the likes of Aria Jaxon?! Oh my god! The horror! Or I guess you could go with the whore, as well. Clever Isaac, very clever! But look, heading into that match, people kept telling me that I was biting off more than I could possibly chew. Same was said when I was challenging for world title gold a few months back. And I’m sure they’re satisfied with these results because, in their own little world, they were right. That I was left full from all the crow I ate. Thinking I was embarrassed. I’m not embarrassed. Why would I be? Because if you look at the OWA Weekly Awards, they say Aria verbally destroyed me the night before? In all honesty, I didn’t even get a chance to hear what she had to say. I had a very busy Vindication Eve, so I was unable to find the time to sit down for ten minutes and subject myself to complete and utter hogwash. But I guess she attempted to besmirch my name. Poke fun at my “floundering” acting career. So like everyone else? Creativity is a lost art in this world and OWA is living proof of that. I have to listen to the same shit week after week after week after week after week - AFTER WEEK AFTER WEEK! It’s tiring, it really is. It takes its toll. And usually, I don’t shed light on this annoyance. I usually just take it on the chin and go on with my day. But at a certain point, you just expect better from these men and women. Especially when it comes to people like Finn and Aria. They are held to a higher standard — I just wish they “acted” accordingly. A bar you people set for them. A bar they have yet to reach, but oh well. But it’s not just the words right? I’m also supposed to be embarrassed by what I displayed in the middle of the ring last Sunday?! Nah. I was close. I almost had her. The great Aria Jaxon, almost lost to a rookie. But nah, people just pay attention to the result they later read on their dirtsheets anyways. They don’t take into account how well I competed out there. Because in the end, the match will be forgotten about. And it’s only because Super Aria Jaxon won again. It’s boring. Seeing her win every week, it’s tiring. Hence why I challenged her in the first place. Same goes with the current world champ. Both of them actually. People want to see something new. They want to see some fresh faces at the top — like oh, I don’t know, me? If the fans wanted to see the same old same old, to watch the same people in every main event, they would go and watch that one outdated company. Yeah, you know the one, but I digress. 

I know with all this talk so far, it sounds like loser talk. Talking about how I was so close in beating Aria. Taking moral victories, instead of getting the actual thing. I sound like a chump, right? Maybe so. Maybe you’re onto something!!! Orrrrr, maybe, just maybe, I’m addressing my progress? Because you see, so many people don’t even view me as a wrestler. They see an actor taking on the role of a professional wrestler. I mean when I signed my name on the dotted line in perfect cursive, did any of you expect me to amount to anything? Nope. You probably thought I would never even sniff the main event scene. And yet, I have. I have countless times. And even coming off a loss, even when I’m at my lowest of lows, Vernon still plugs my name into the main event slot. Because people want to see me, it’s as simple as that. My fans, want to see me win. My haters? Want to see me get beaten to a bloody pulp. The point is, no matter which side you fall on, you are clamoring for me to make my way out to the ring. Kind of like how I always get a loud crowd reaction. Sure, on most nights it’s a chorus of boos, with a sprinkle of cheers, but I’m still getting a reaction, unlike most of the roster who are met with crickets and pin drops! 

But whatever, let’s move on. Even if it’s a difficult thing to do, it must be done. So in case you’ve been living under a rock, in the main event this week, it will be me versus Caspian. Wait no, his name is in all caps like a douche so I gotta yell it. Let me try again. I face CASPÍAN! Yeah, that guy. The guy who needs some clippers ‘cause his fuckin’ beard is weird. Tough talk from a wrestler payin’ millions for a security a year — to watch after him in his skybox that is, but I digress. So I face him in a “God of War” Tournament match? What in the fuck is that?! Is this a goddamn video game tournament? Because if it is, that’s the only way he would be able to beat me. I’m running out of time, so let’s just get this over with, shall we? I always dreaded facing you, CASPIAN. It’s not because I fear you or your NARCOS rip off lifestyle. Good show by the way, I highly recommend. It’s because there isn’t much to you. You’re good, but you’re not great. It seems like you are always being thrown into matches, instead of earning them. Like the time you faced Scotty Adams and that hairy obese dude. You know, that dude who is by far the worst champion in the world today? But yeah, nobody cared about you in that. You were the third wheel. And even recently, we saw you take part in KD’s twentieth retirement tour. A man that hasn’t been good since like what? 2009? Something like that? For whatever reason, he chose to face you. Probably because he thought you were easy pickings, which I don’t fault him for. But in the end, you knocked him down, he fell, and he wasn’t able to get up. Like that commercial! But yeah, this matchup doesn’t excite me. It doesn’t put an extra pep in my step. It’s meh. I’m sure you’ll respond and say you feel the same way about me and that’s fine. My words often ruffle some feathers, I get it. And you’ll probably cling onto the fact I lost to Aria last week. But be careful, for that’s a dangerous game you’re playing because I recall you also losing to her. So you have no room to talk, awkward. As for this tournament itself — again, who cares? I know when they announced it at Vindication, the voiceover really hyped it up. Four random Kingdom Alphas and four random Olympus Alphas are going to battle it out. And only one will be crowned “God of War!” As if it will make so many people jealous of you if you win it. When most of the roster won’t give a flying fuck about your boastful talk because only eight people participated in it. Plus I already have a lot of great nicknames and monikers. “God of War” wouldn’t even be in the top five. But sure, I’ll try. I’ll try because I want to regain my momentum. To find myself in the winner’s circle again. And it starts this week against you, CASPIAN. Thank you for your sacrifice, perro! 

[The scene fades to black]

We fade in into what appears to be an MMA style gym. We see Jessykah in the ring appearing to be shadowboxing. A few moments past, as Jessykah soon notices the camera and quits shadowboxing as she soon begins to get out of the ring and wiping away the sweat on her body.

If I would have known you guys would be here, I would have ended that match earlier, and be more presentable. [Jessykah laughs] I know, you guys may be wondering what I am here, and that is a fair enough question, and I have a good reason to be here. You see, the gym we are at is The Razor's Edge MMA and Fitness center located in Hammonton, New Jersey. This where I went and got trained in Catch Wrestling, Boxing, and other martial arts. This was also where [Jessykah uses air quotes] "I" was made at for they always say the best way to face yourself is to understand yourself. So I figured why not come back to the place where it all began and figure out how to [Jessykah using air quotes again] "defeat myself".

Jessykah smirks a little

I am guessing many of you watching this is aware of my situation with Roni the self-proclaimed Goddess of Suburbia. It has been quite a feature if I say so because when we do step into that ring together and have a match finally. It will be like I am Shadowboxing against a mirror. [Jessykah laughs a little] God, that sounds pretty dumb, but it is the best way I can put it into words because as I have mentioned plenty of times she and I are one in the same. She believes herself to be better than everyone just like I did, she walks around with a chip on her shoulder just like I did, and I can keep going on, but you will get the point.

Jessykah pauses for a minute

You know what I will give what people want I will give them full reasons on why Roni and I are one in the same so I can quit getting asked and make it seem like I avoid the question. Reason One is simple and one I have mentioned before, and that is her attitude is the same as mine was. Before I got into Wrestling many people knew of me through my time in MMA and saw how I acted. I was ignorant in both senses. And let me ask you who else does that sound like? It sounds awfully a lot like Roni. Think about Roni is ignorant in the sense that she is rude because she isn't lacking knowledge of wrestling.

Reason two, she is haughty. She acts like she is superior to the other women in the Goddess division regardless of where they come from or even their skill. She probably lived in a household where she got whatever she wanted, had the greatest clothes, went to the best wrestling school, and blah blah blah. Now, who does or did that sound like? Me to some extent. You can go back and watch my first promo I did against Eris. What do you hear me say? That I was trained by the best, I was the best, and more. Again, proving even more why she and I are the same.

Reason three, egotistical. Do I have to explain this one? I mean, it is quite easy to understand. She thinks everything revolves around her, and that she should be the center of attention and no one else. Hell, she said herself that there was no one tougher than the quote "Goddess of Suburbia", and that she could have an opportunity at the OWA Goddess Champion because again to quote her "she is that damn good". Oh and the fact she mentions that she is young and pretty is also quite egotistical, and really reminds me of my first promo against Eris and me insulting my opponents in MMA.

Reason four, she is abrasive. This is quite evident as she shows little remorse for anything she says or even does. During my interview with Jovana, you see her just waltz her way into the interview and basically puts on her tough girl persona and takes over it. She had no remorse for doing so. It reminded me when I crashed a press conference an opponent of mine in MMA had where I came in and basically hijacked the show and felt no remorse about it. Again, who does that sound like?
 
The fifth and final reason is that...is that...

Jessykah begins to smile, but soon it turns into laughter. After, a couple of seconds, Jessykah composes herself.
 
The fifth and final reason is that she is obsessive, and by obsessive I mean she is a massive fangirl of myself. I think she watched all my matches in MMA and saw herself in me and began modeling herself after me. I mean, everything about her is straight up model after myself from the ignorantness to the haughtiness to being an egotistical and abrasive bitch to everything else. You know, what I think I know Roni's problem now. It isn't that I see myself in her, but instead she sees herself in me and when I had a change of heart it broke her like how Eris broke me. If that is the case, Roni, let's talk about it.

Jessykah begins to laugh as she gets up and gets ready to return training

Before I leave, I have to say one last thing though, Roni. You may be the Goddess of Suburbia, but I am the Devil of Suburbia.

The video begins to slowly end as we see Jessykah getting back into the ring and begin Shadowboxing again

 
 
 
 
 
 

INCOMING TRANSMISSION..
Why don’t we kick off this shindig by raising our glasses in honor of Roy Rivers, for having the gonads to recruit The Baddest Mu’fucker on the Planet?  I’ll admit, after seeing how bitterly things resulted between a fellow Olympian (Bull Connor) and the Head of his Security (Carson Ramsay) under his supervision, I had my concerns about him and his competence as a General Manager.  But by him sparing no expense in signing me (because let’s face it, I don’t come cheap) I can sense the desperation to get this brand on firm footing, and I want him to know that I’ll do everything I can to ensure that asses are in those seats every Friday Night.  As he’ll come to realize soon enough, I’m not one of those dildos who is blowing up his phone and banging down his door for a spot in this company with only the interest of what I can get out of this business.  Other than compensation for doing a good job, I don’t want a damned thing from any of you.  I just want to help take this subpar program from the embarrassment of competing with Hell’s Kitchen in the primetime lineup to being the flagship show of the Oh Dubya Aye.  To put it bluntly, even a blind man could see that this place is tanking; re-runs are beginning to be a common theme as the show has been inconsistent with providing fresh product for the fans every single week, and there’s a lack of promotion; it’s by some stroke of luck that Bob Taylor hasn’t sent this cow out to pasture yet and it’s plain to see why he should.  There’s a locker room brimming with lackluster talent who are incapable of capturing the interest of even the simplest crowd(s).  Not trying to imply that the guys in the back ain’t capable (because I’m not implying it, I’m actually saying it) but if the boot fits lace it.  Just look at the men I’m up against this week: Jack Murdock, a known rebel who lives by his own code of honor, who was humiliated by one of the biggest tool I’ve ever seen in Gabe Reno; Laurence Naismith, a kid who fights for those who can’t fend for themselves and teaches disabled people to wrestle in his down time, honorable but ultimately a waste of time; and a guy who goes by the name of Diaz Iniesta, originally from Spain, he’s here to try his hand on the American Market.  I’ve noticed that he doesn’t have many accolades either, driving me to believe that he’s either inexperienced or not all he’s cracked up to be.  Regardless, these three are just three more relevant examples of how Olympus is flailing.  I’ve certainly got my work cut out for me.  Saving a brand that is on the brink of deterioration will be a miracle that’ll be damn near impossible for any mere mortal to perform; but I’m not just any man.  I’m the same man who stormed the gates of hell to an army of demons awaiting me, and leave as their commander.  I’ve made a career out of accomplishing the unfeasible. Just when you’ve thought you’ve seen it all, another trick is drawn from my sleeve.  The revolution will be televised.  
END OF TRANSMISSION..

The Ballad of Sorrow (Part #2)

Your ignorance amuses me, Jack. It's funny how you claim to hold this mentality. This belief that I am fighting for a "lie". That wrestling, cannot be pure solely because it is based off combat.

(We open to Scotty, situated alone within the confines of his backyard. Seated, atop a old, worn down see-saw which creaks with every swing. Each time, the weight is balanced from one side to the other.) 

You're right. Wrestling *is* based around combat - yet that is *exactly* why I intend on bringing 'purity' back to this realm. For it has lost its way. No longer, is it merely about the combat. No longer is it merely about standing between those ropes; engaging in a battle of wits. A war of attrition with your foe. Instead being more about people trying to feed the sheep. Trying to construct this image of themselves, that falls apart the moment the world goes dim. 

The moment, that people see beyond their masquerade. The moment, that they are forced to look deep within their own mirror; come to the realisation that all along - they were merely a marionette. A prisoner, of all that had encapsulated them. 

(Softly smiling, he swings atop the see-saw once more, the creaking floating through the air.) 

It's funny: you claim to hold self-knowledge, yet cannot comprehend the first thing about truly knowing yourself. The first thing, about the fortress that consumes yourself. You claim to be free, yet the chains wrap themselves tighter and tighter around you, with each word you state. With each comment, you attempt to use in order to deconstruct me. 

(Gently laughing, he swings his feet to the left side of the see saw, allowing them to softly land atop the dew covered morning grass. A few blades snapping upon impact.) 

You're right - I did lose to Finn. Well done on pointing something out that I've already admitted. That I haven't hidden from. Very insightful of you right there. Yet you seem to have failed to understand. To realise that my cause was never about any singular battle. That losing doesn't invalidate the cleansing. The flames, that are stirring with each and every second. Waiting for the moment when they can bring the realm to its knees. They still roar.

 They still call for you to be unravelled right before them - for it is as you stated oh so ominously yourself. *Nobody* can escape death. Nobody can escape the hand of the reaper. Whether it is by our design, or the design of a cause we cannot comprehend. That we cannot foresee. All we can do, is wait for its cold embrace to surround us. 

(A hologram of the grim reaper appears behind Scotty, scythe tightly gripped within its right hand. Waiting, for the moment that is is called upon.) 

Just like it shall come for you. 

(Smirking, he pushes himself upwards, his smile slowly turning more cold; demonic in nature.) 

Just as it did, when you walked right into my game. Right when you took the lure, that had been cast for you. You're *not* the first to attempt to use the security blanket of me being 'weak'. Of me, being this pitiful shell in order to peddle your cause. Even if those statements are merely the evidence that you play right into my hands. That you are afraid, of digging beneath the surface and realising just *what* awaits you. Just what, the mire has churned up for your final rest. 

Same as Kenny Drake - a man who used those words to give himself solace. To convince himself, that he was this entity that assumed control. That had the world, within the palm of his hands. Yet he fell. The moment the hourglass emptied, was the moment his world became nothing more than the shadows he had claimed. That his presumption of 'godliness', feel within the eye of the abyss. 

(Extracting a lighter and cigarette from the right pocket of his mauve/raven shorts, he lights it up before placing it in his mouth. Allowing the plumes of smoke to fill the air.) 

He wept, as the world collapsed upon him. Just as it is doing for you. That frightens you, doesn't it? That is what keeps you awake at night, looking ever so cautiously over your shoulder. Wishing, to find a way for the date to be averted. For the poison, to flow from your skin as your core becomes numb. You claim that *I* am the one to have to face my reflection, yet fail to realise that I already have. Each and every moment since I lost Joely. Since Amelia and Chili found themselves upon the tightrope, I have faced myself. 

I have looked straight into my eyes - and seen what lays beyond my surface. The 'darkness' that riddles my soul. 

(Exhaling, he allows the butt of the cigar to burn, before extracting it from his mouth.)

I have become at peace with what it holds. Can you *honestly* say that about yourself? Can you truly say that you are at one with yourself? Or are you nothing more than fractures? 

(Those words echoing throughout the air, Scotty allows them to come to rest as the cigarette falls harmlessly to the ground; we pan out to reveal that there is a makeshift 'battlefield' situated behind him. The types of which, are used by generals and army barracks to simulate the conditions of war.) I don't fear myself, 

Jack. I don't hold any fear of what might become, when the time passes. When the flames, call for *me*. I embrace it - for it is then, that the world has been razed. It is then, that the reconstruction of what we cherish shall begin. From when the hand of fate, shall complete its suffocation. Then, and only then, will the world be free. 

(Sighing, he begins to walk back inside, the gentle breeze brushing against him as he does so.) 

Sunday, bloody Sunday, shall be your last song. I hope you make it worth the listen. For the hour of demise has struck.

(Fade to black.) 
---

(We re-open to the kitchen of Scott's apartment, about three hours after we left him. He's attired in the same shorts that he was during our previous filming, although inside of a midnight shirt, he is wearing a forest/slate one. Glancing down, we can see that he is overseeing some files pertaining to Adams Enterprises. Ensuring that they're all up to standard and filed with the appropriate departments. Smirking, he glances upwards, hearing Rebecca enter the room.)

"Thanks for coming, Bec."

Rebecca: *slightly laughing* It's what I'm here for, isn't it?

(Laughing, Scott nods. She's right - it's *exactly* what she's here for, but at the same time - he knew that she had some other, more personal things to deal with. So would have been understanding if she didn't feel like she could progress with her work.)

"True. How's everything going with your dad by the way?"

(Bec slightly sighs, dropping her head.)

Rebecca: *gently* Not as good as we thought. Turns out that the operation wasn't as much a success as we initially thought; they need to keep him in the hospital for further check ups over the next week or so. 

(Pushing himself up, Scotty walks over to her, his eyes slightly drooping. Holding empathy for her.)

"Oh, wow. You *sure* you're able to do this? I don't mind if you want me to call Alicia or Chloe and have them send these. I just wanna make sure you're okay first and foremost."

Rebecca: *trying to softly smile, clearing her throat* Yeah, I'm sure. I promised you I would; I'd feel bad if I didn't. It's fine.

(Wrapping his arms around her, Scotty nods.)

"Alright, as long as you want to. Also, if you wanna fly back home and be with them, go for it. I'll even cover expenses for you."

(Her smile glowing, Rebecca returns the hug as a gentle laugh floats from her lips.)

Rebecca: Yeah. I was thinking about asking you if I could take the next two weeks off, just so I can be there and make sure everything's alright. Make sure mum and Gareth are able to sort out the home.

"I figured you would. Even if you didn't ask - I would have approved it anyway. I know how much your family means to you. I just wish there was more I could do to help."

(Breaking the hug, Rebecca smiles.)

Rebecca: *smiling* You've done more than enough for us, Scotty. Heck, you're even financing the treatment - something you didn't even *have* to do, yet you are. Just shows how much of a golden heart you really have.

(Laughing, Scotty smiles as he glances back at the paperwork upon the table. Well, at least four sheets of it anyway. Revealing that it is indeed, the expense file for the treatment Bec's dad is undergoing.)

"It's really nothing. I promised you; I told you I wanted to see you happy more than anything. It means the world to me to help support you. To make sure you realise that I truly cherish everything you've done for me."

Rebecca: I know.

(Beginning to walk back to the mahogany table, Bec sits down on the chocolate chair that is positioned on the opposite side of Scotty, as she prepares to discuss what it is that Scott initially called her over for.)

"So, the deal with VX went through yesterday; they want us to host the concert on the 23rd of January.  *However* they weren't able to get a venue that's in their desired location and available that date."

Bec: *calm* Did they say where they wanted it.

(Scotty nods.)

"Yeah. Either Texas or Michigan. You think you're able to call Mitch and see if he has the ShuttleDone free that date?" 

Bec: *Nodding* Yeah, I can do that.

"Thanks."

(Smiling, the two continue their conversation as we fade to black for the final time this session.)

KINGDOM PROMO #1

"The Power Of Corruption!"

[London...Durward Street...6:34 PM...


The sun sits low in the sky above the empty street on London's East End.  Even in the busiest of times during the day, the street as few willing to traverse it.  And now, with the day over and many seeking the safety and shelter of their own homes, the street is deserted all together.  Many local residents find the lane to be "creepy".  Perhaps they can sense ghosts that linger here.  Perhaps it is all due to the fact that they all know that, on August 31st 1888, the original Jack The Ripper claimed his first victim here.  Whatever the reason, a sense of dark melancholy and ominous foreboding infests the landscape like a stink you can't remove.  And to the road's sole occupant...that stench is like the smell roses.  The man who today calls himself Jack The Ripper stands in the center of the street, hands place inside the pockets of his long, black coat.  He stares up at a minor stone structure.  It looks old, its stone cobbled and worn.  This is the old Board School on Durward Street, the only remaining structure linking it to the 1800s.  It is here where Jack left the remains of his first victim Mary 'Polly' Nicholls.  If Jack closes his eyes long enough, he can almost hear her screams of surprise and fear, feel the force as his hand rams the knife into her chest, sense the hot breath passing her lips.  And if he opens his eyes again, all he hears is the silence of death.]

Jack The Ripper:  Look at it.  Can you not sense it?  Twas here long ago my sweets that I was called forth toward a great and terrible destiny.  It was here that the creative bug first sunk his fangs into my pale skin, infecting me with the unquenchable desire to make tributes to blood and murder.  It was here that my spiritual brethren looked down upon the corpse of an insignificant woman.  A woman whose beauty he had tainted, whose innocence he had blackened, and whose life he had taken away.  He looked down upon the guts he had spilled and the face he had covered in red, and what he saw...was the most beautiful thing in world!  Here at his feet was the answer to everything!  The solution to the big questions all weak humans ask but are too afraid to seek a reply to...why are we here?  For countless generations humans have sought an answer to this question in order to try and give meaning to an otherwise meaningless existence.  I do not fault the humans for this.  Tis only natural for one to want to feel like they are not a random accident of a cruel God.  How sad it is that so few of you find it.  But I found it!  Many many years ago, I stood here in my first bit of empty flesh, and looking down at this poor girl whom I had decided to kill purely on a whim...and I had it!  The meaning that all humans share, regardless of birth or station or morality.  That meaning being...you're all gonna die!     

[Jack begins to slowly pace back and forth in front of the old building.  As he does, the world around him changes, regressing back to the way it was in 1888.  Specters of days past in top hats and long coats walk up and down the street, taking no notice of their modern age visitor.]

Death is the great destiny we all share!  All of you humans are nothing but empty vessels.  Meat slabs walking through your daily routine as if having a simple life grants you peace.  Alas all it really does is give you a life of nothing!  A name and life forgotten by even the Gods.  Yet in death you find worth.  Your fellow meat slabs crowd around you as they stuff you in a box, lamenting of their lost time with you and of the few things you accomplished.  And for this brief period while they watch you rot...you are the most important person in the world.  But there are some meat slabs who feel they escape this fate even in life.  They are the rich and powerful, who although they have escaped the life of the mundane, think that their wealth and influence grants them power.  But their death proves the lie in that belief!  Death shows them that, although they may have the money and authority to do a great many things, the one thing they cannot do is cheat The Reaper!  In that their death becomes a morality tale for the rest of you my sweets.  A lesson that death has no price and cares not for your imaginary power.  Don't you see?!  The beauty and the irony?!  Life is worthless and meaningless!  But death...death gives you purpose!  I GIVE YOU PURPOSE!!!  I am The Reaper's right hand!  He reaches out through me, calling to me to cause as much pain and suffering as I can, so as to bring greatness to death.  Life is a numbing agent that makes you forget you're alive.  But fear, suffering, and death...it is only when these things come calling that you shacks of meat truly remember that you're alive.  Without your impending death, without fear, and without suffering life would be even more worthless than it already is!  Just a string on events with no substance.  Only by losing those things we value most do their worth truly become relevant!  I am the man who turns water into blood!  I make the common...extraordinary!  And I make the pure...black like the rest of us!   

[In the landscape of Jack's twisted mind, his modern day garb as been replaced with fabric more appropriate for the time.  The wears the tall top hat and long black cloak most associate with the legend of Jack The Ripper.  And hidden within the folds of his sleeve is Mary Jane, his lover and true companion.  In Jack's mind, he sees on the far side of the street, a face familiar to all of OWA.  A new victim to prey upon.  Although not dressed in his usual wrestling attire and dressed similarly to those in this imaginary time, it would be hard to mistake the face of...]   

Scotty Adams!


Oh my sweet, sweet, sweet, foolish child.  How pitiable you are.  In my experience there is no sadder man than the one who believes himself to be free.  You believe that your defeat at the hands of Finny has liberated you?  Broken your chains?  Oh my poor boy, don't you realize?  You're more a slave now than you ever were!  What are you a slave to you may ask?  Why...to your own ideals of course.  Oh yes ever since I stepped foot into OWA I have studied you very thoroughly.  The Pinnacle Of Purity you call yourself.  A man devoted to bring everything that is "right" and "pure" back into this world of violence.  Even simply saying that makes me want to laugh.  Right?!  And pure?!  In a world built upon combat?!  Hahahahahahahahahaha!  Oh truly your soul must be as sweet and innocent like that of a naive child to spout such nonsense.  Don't you know my sweet that purity is the shield of the weak?  It is the ideal of those who do not have the strength to face the reality of the world around them.  Murder...racism...greed...corruption...politics!  Only a fool seeks purity in things so tainted black.  Wrestling is no different.  A world built upon violence; where men and women who take joy in the suffering of others come to do their opponents harm and where spectators come to indulge in their most basest of urges.  It's glorious!  Wrestling is a den of thieves where everyone is trying to steal and rob the other of championships and accolades.  And you think such a world can claim the title of "pure" and "right"?!  You understand so little my sweet child.  Think of the purest, softest, whitest stain fabric in the world.  It is a beauty to see and to hold.  But all it takes is one drop of ink...of blood...and that purity is tainted forever!  It can never return to the way it was.  But blackness...blackness can never be absorbed into the light.  Darkness simply takes on even greater darkness!  Darkness was here long before the light, and it shall remain long after the light has gone out.  Darkness is from which we all came and to what we all must return.  This is why you are weak Scotty Adams.  Your reason for fighting is a lie, and as long as you hold true to that lie...you shall never be free!  Your chains, however invisible, will keep you from finding true success here.


[The phantom Scotty Adams begins to walk down the foggy street and Jack follows him, keeping a safe distance behind him but always within sight.  Jack studies every detail of this phantom...how he walks...his speed...he gauges his strength...everything!  So as to know the best way to take him down.]

But I can free you my sweet.  I can break the chains that bind to your weakness.  I can show you the power of corruption and darkness.  For you see Scotty, I was once like you.  These scars that you sense beneath my skin, this "fear" you claim to see in my eyes...it's not entirely wrong.  For I am human as well and subject to the same weakness of my species.  I am no different than the other slabs of flesh that pollute this Earth.  My carving for violence isn't anything new, even in this world of wrestling.  But I do have one thing that you and many others do not...self knowledge!  I know what I am, what my purpose is, and I do not run from it!  I'm fully aware that the act of killing, my desire for bloodlust, the sweet pheromones that my brains releases whenever I conduct an evil deed...all of it is wrong.  I simply do not care!  I embrace the darkness in my own head, and that makes me more free than you'll ever be holding onto your false ideals!  I was afraid once too of a great many things.  I feared death and defeat like all humans do in my old life, until I realized that if I made death and fear my weapon, if I took it within myself it would have no power over me.  Rather I would have power not only over it, but of all those who were still victims to it as well.  It was then that the old me died, and I was reborn as the new Jack The Ripper!  Now I have power over all, including you!  You seek to find meaning in your defeat at Vindication because you are too weak to admit the truth to even yourself.  You lost, and in defeat you are nothing!  I lost as well, but I sought only to get into the ring and cause as much violence as I could.  And in that regard, I was most successful.  I may have lost, but I achieved EVERYTHING!  Titles and accolades?!  These are but petty trifles.  The only prize I require is the pain I inflict upon others.  However you failed to achieve ANYTHING, so you scramble desperately to find a sliver of something to give your defeat purpose so you don't have to face YOUR fear.  You claim to know my fear?  You fear your own self awareness!  How can a man who fears himself claim to know the fears of others?  I shall force you to confront that fear when we step into that ring.  When your light shines against my darkness, what do you think will happen?  Just like with the satin sheets, my darkness shall encroach upon your light, absorbing into itself.  And then all shall fade around you until you see nothing but the void in its purest form.  Then you shall be forced to face your fear.  Because in their final moments...people learn who they really are.  I wonder who you fill see when you face your dark reflection my sweet Scotty.  Will you like who you see?  Will you beg me to end it, just so as to spare you from the truth?  Perhaps you will!  And I will be more than happy to oblige you!  

[As Phantom Scotty turns a corner, Jack quickens his pace to keep up.  Now in a empty alley, Jack reaches forward to cover Scotty's mouth, and before he has a chance to put up even the most meager of struggles, Jack takes Mary Jane an cuts his throat.  As if tied to to the phantom's life, the imaginary world turns to dust, returning Jack to the modern world he inhabits.  While there is not victim beneath Jack this time, his hand is suspiciously stained with fresh, still warm blood.]

Come to me my sweet child.  Let me help break the chains that bind you to your weak self.  Let me help set you free.  It will be hard and painful yes.  It shall be fear beyond all imagining.  But if you face the void and survive, you shall see that the darkness can never be defeated by the light and shall become a new man!  Maybe I'll even consider taking you on as my apprentice killer.  If not, then you shall find your corpse enshrined within the halls of my immortality!  Either way, facing me is the greatest thing that shall ever happen to you.  For through me...your purpose shall be fulfilled!

[Fade to black.]

The Ballad of Sorrow (Part #1)


"I never tapped". 

To some, this would be a badge of honour. A way for them to take some solace from the defeat. A method, for them to confide in themselves that they *didn't* actually lose the match on their own accord. I'm not that sort of person - because it's plainly *not* true. 

(We open to a singular spotlight, shining within the confines of an otherwise pitch black room. The only thing visible, is the hooded figure of *who we can safely assume to be* Scotty seated atop a wooden chair. Head bowed). 

You did it Finn. You took me to a place I never thought I would go. You found it within yourself, to suppress *everything* that I could throw at you; survived with your belt intact. You crossed the frontier and stared me right in the eyes - just as I wished for you to. Just as I knew it had to be. 

(Tilting his head slightly upwards, it is now visible under the hood that stitches are upon his face. There as a reminder; a remnant of the war that he and Finnegan transversed upon). 

Just as deep down, I think you knew it had to be as well - for yourself more than anything else. 

(Softly, a sigh floats into the air from his lips as his eyes softly glow with the luminescence of the light shimmering off them).
 
This isn't a case of me 'passing out'. This isn't a case of me 'handing you the victory', because that would be lying to you. Lying to myself and lying to those who I truly cherish. To those, who call for me. 

(Pausing, he feels his eyes beginning to water, the words lingering within his mouth. Yet it is the pride that flows throughout him. The self-denial, that prevents him from making the admission that he *knows* has to be made). 

You defeated me. You were the one who made my body turn cold. The one, to make my eyes fade into the depths of the mire. At Vindication, you dug into that place you needed to. You found it within yourself, to put me to bed. For that, I thank you. 

(His words floating throughout the air, you can hear their echo in the otherwise chilling silence. Scott, bowing his head once more as flashes of the moment he faded begin to flicker inside of his mind). 

I thank you, for liberating me. For releasing me, from my own chains. For realising, just where it *all* veered off the tracks. 

(His voice cutting, you can tell he has been doing a lot of reflection. A lot of pondering since Vindication came to a close). 

For making me realise, the *truth* behind my cause. You see, I have allowed myself to forget just *why* I set about making the industry 'pure'. Just *why* I came back - I allowed it to blind me. To cloud the rationale I based my cause upon. It caused me, to become the very thing I hated. 

You made me realise that maybe I *haven't* extinguished the demons. The sorrow that festers inside of me. Maybe I haven't let go of my guilt. My shame. Of letting Joely slip away - even though she has forgiven me. Even though she still eternally moulds my light in her image. 

And I *always* will, Scotty. I promised you I would. 

(Hearing those words, a soft smile creeps its way onto his mouth. Reminding him that Joely hasn't left him. That she is still locked within the chambers of his heart. Guiding him, in a manner akin to a guardian angel. Even if he had allowed himself to be consumed by his own obsessions).

Thank you ---.

(With that, we slowly begin to close this setting, sheer emotion beginning to flow throughout Scotty's veins).
---

???: Scotty ---

(We open to the sound of this voice, piercing through the closed bedroom door of Scotty, within his Philadelphia residence. A clock on the right hand side dresser informing us that it is 11:25 AM on the morning of the 27th of September. Three days after Vindication concluded; two days since Scott returned from Seattle. Granted, there *was* a stopover in Huntsville, Alabama to visit Raven and discuss a few things along the way. 

Yet since he returned home, the majority of his time has been spent in this room. Thinking; pondering just what course of action he should take *next*. Just as he is doing at this very moment, his eyes slightly opening as the voice floats into his eardrums.)

"What is it?"

(His voice slightly weary, he allows a deep breath to expel itself from his lungs as the door slightly creaks open, confirming our suspicions that the voice that had called out to him, was indeed that of Bianca. Glancing over at Scott as she makes her way to the left hand side of the bed, you can tell that a myriad of emotions have flowed throughout her mind since he returned home. 

Not knowing, just what has been churning inside of his head from the moment he fell. The moment, the darkness is all he saw against Finn. Even if she doesn't wish for him to see it - she knows that the last thing he wishes, is for her to wear his scars.) 

Bianca: *gently* Everything okay, babe? You've been in here since you got back.

(Scott sighs, a soft nod of the head affirming to her that right now, he is 'okay'. If that's even the best word to describe his emotional state.)

"I'm still standing, aren't I?"

Bianca: *laughing* I guess so, babe. I just know how much it meant to you. How much you *needed* this.

(Another sigh from Scott, as those words cut through the 'veil' he had created for himself. Even his reply to the initial question, was a mask. A way for him, to dull the agony. The disappointment that had flowed throughout him. The anguish, that consumed his mind. Sliding his back up the faded lime plaster of the wall, he allows himself to softly smile.)

"It just hurts. Knowing that I was mere moments away. That I had him, yet I let it slip. Just like sand in an hourglass. He was *right there* yet I just didn't get the job done. I couldn't finish the job."

(Hearing those words, Bianca softly leans in; placing a gentle kiss upon his lips. Her way, of trying to remind him that it's okay. That he *shouldn't* allow this outcome to undo him. To pull at his very seams.)

"I let them down. No, worst of all - I let *myself* down."

(His words floating into the air, the emotion simmers through them. This *isn't* a side of Scott we're used to seeing. Usually, he's someone who holds an 'on to the next one' mentality. Whether he wins or loses, his mind is always set on what awaits, rather than stewing on the past. On mulling, what could have been. This time however, that is *exactly* what he is doing. Mulling, on a loss that has eaten away at him. That has exposed the sorrow that lingers deep within his mind. Almost as if he is unsure of himself.) 

Bianca: *placing her hand gently within his* It's okay. You went to the brink - you proved that even though you have been worn down. Even though they thought you didn't have it in you, that you still are one of the best in the world. That you can force even Finnegan to find another level inside of him. That you weren't going to allow him to make you tap.

"It wasn't enough. I may as well have tapped out ---."

(His words drifting, Bianca passionately locks her lips with his - trying to find the spark. The flame, that burns within him. Knowing that *this* more than anything, is what has faded. Showing, that as much as he might think that he let everyone down - he truly didn't. Breaking away, Bianca gently smiles, giggling gently as she softly uses her free hand to caress the side of Scotty.)

"Thank you babe, and I'm sorry ---"

Bianca: It's fine baby. It's why I'm here. 

(Smiling, Scott looks deeply into her eyes as we fade. Allowing them to share another moment of bliss together.)
---

(We re-open to the interior of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Philadelphia. Well, it's really a storage locker *one that we have seen before, when Scotty came here to pick up some deliveries with Holly*, but right now - it has been crafted into a makeshift 'warehouse'. Complete with a chilling breeze floating through the air; the stench of burnt paper attacking our nostrils.)

Jack the Ripper.

A man, who holds a charade in his hand. A facade, fuelled by a lust for blood - a fetish, for violence. A song and dance I have seen all too many times before. You see, this isn't unique - there have been many men who have claimed to crave blood. To feed, off the helpless screams of their opponents as they watch their eyes turn cold. Their body, turn limp at their hands. *I* have even walked that passage myself. 

(Pausing, he allows a slight, demonic grin to cross his face, as he slightly rocks back and forth within the creaky; decrepit and decaying wooden chair he is sat atop.) 

There's a certain thrill to it as well. Knowing that it was you, that watched them fall. That it was you, that laid them to rest. Yet can *you* truly comprehend that lust? Can you truly claim that you understand, the passage you walk? Or do you walk it to hide from yourself? 

(Those words filling the vacant air, Scott allows a gentle glow to appear within his irises.) 

Do you call for the shadows, or are they merely a mask for the scars that lay underneath? Are they, what you truly fear? 

(Feeling those words strike, a singular holographic image appears behind him. It is one of a cow, laying on its side and with blood draining from its body) 

Are you able to *truly* answer that question? For that's the thing, Jack: I already know. I can sense it deep within your core. You're afraid. Afraid, that the image you have portrayed, will be stripped away. 

That everything you claim to hold, shall be left within the ashes of your final slumber. It's a fear we *all* hold - knowing that as each second ticks within the clock of our time, that it will all be taken away. That all we are left with, is the truth within our souls. It is that vulnerability, that makes us dangerous. 

(Pausing, he gently whispers.) 

"For when a man is at his most vulnerable, he is at his most dangerous". 

(Smirking, he allows those words to reside deep within the chambers of his mind.) 

That is where I am right now. I won't hide it - because I don't need to. I am vulnerable right now - I am at the edge of my own sanity, but for you: that is exactly what spells your demise. For it is now, that I will not relent until I get what I desire. Until this world, has truly achieved its purity. 

(Soft, demonic laughter, as we slowly begin to fade.) 

See you Sunday, as you witness the end of your own charade.

(Fade to black.)

 
You should never fight another man’s battles. Facing an opponent who isn’t yours to combat all but guarantees failure. Vindication, no matter how much I dressed it up, was not my fight. Kenny wanted me to take the war to Scott Oasis, and I doubt anyone would disagree that that’s exactly what I did. When all was said and done, we were both bloodied and battered. Scott’s limits were broken, and I was caught in the middle of someone else’s war.
 
If I had things my way, I’d already have got back my tag team championship, but I owed Kenny a favour. And now, I sit here, contemplating my loss. I do not like to lose.
 
 
But I wear each and every loss as a reminder of why I must always push myself. I said that the next man who earned a tally on my arm would need to do something quite spectacular to do it. Based on the fact that I was still plucking out thumbtacks two hours after Vindication, I’d say Scott achieved something worthy of spectacle.
 
But that’s old news…I’ve been informed of something rather special that is coming my way. A little tournament that will apparently determine who the “God of War” is in the OWA. Well, Kenny got what he wanted at Vindication, and now Tarah Nova has joined our family. But what about what I want? Right now, there is nothing I want more than a title that tells everyone what they already knew…I am war incarnate.
 
It’s a long road that is filled with many a speed bump, and the first such obstacle is a man by the name of Jeff X. I’ve been watching you very closely indeed, Jeff. There is untapped potential to be had with you. In a perfect world, I’d welcome you into the pack and make a true soldier out of you, but that is not what fate has decided for our first encounter. Your story is what the weak might call inspiring. The fickle crowds that pack the arena lambasted you, they said you’d only last one week in this company, but here you are. You’re about to step into the ring with a legend in the making. I’m stepping into the ring with a frustrating waste of talent.
 
What is your legacy here, Jeff? It is not comparable to mine. It is not a legacy of championship victories, marquee matches, being featured on posters, far from it. Your legacy is of the man who almost gets the job done. You’ve certainly been fortunate to be paired with opponents who carry a lot of name value, it’s just a shame that you haven’t actually beat any of them. CASPIAN needed half an army to distract me long enough to defeat me, the same can’t be said for you. Aria Jaxon’s been in the Alpha Division for a cup of coffee and put you away handily. Anyone who’s worth mentioning that you’ve stepped through the ropes to face has proved that while you’re not Mr. One Week, you are a weekly source of assured victory. Am I taking you lightly? No, I’m not fucking stupid. Am I telling you that you will not even get past your first challenge in this tournament? Abso-fucking-lutely. I’m sure you’re familiar with a man by the name of Jon McAdams, he’s almost certainly going to be the next #1 contender for the OWA World Championship. He is a name worth mentioning. I’ve beat him.
 
Scott Oasis, Carlos Rosso, Savannah Sunshine, Jessica Rose, these are all names the people know. They’re all names I’ve beat. Your resume reads like a list of participation trophies, huge stars that you got embarrassed by. Get ready to add me to that list. But I’m sure you’ve got your little collection of responses planned, I get it. How I spent so much time as a tag team wrestler, how I couldn’t put away Scott Oasis for good, you’ve got so much fucking ammo, haven’t you Jeff?
 
Those bullets aren’t any good without a weapon to fire them with. Everything you have to say to me is as insignificant as the ant beneath my boot. People were heralding you as some sort of rising star, and you proved that you’re not even worthy of that label at Vindication. A collection of new blood, all frantically battering each other for an opportunity to break through. Layne Kurobane is the talk of the town though, not Jeff X. How does that make you feel, Jeff? You’re watching a shot at the Spartan Title fall to a man who already had his opportunity, while you’re left to deal with someone who is very unhappy right now.
 
You might see your entry into the God of War tournament as some sort of chance at greatness. Perhaps you think it’s a gift from powers on high, a reward for everything you’ve been put through. If I were a man of remorse, and Lord knows I am not that, I’d probably be sad that you’re about to be defeated in another moment in the Sun. Oh, but the people just love you. I see them, throwing up the X at every show like it means anything. You’ll lose them eventually. I know, I see it happen all too often. You have a fun little signal of your arrival, you encourage that audience participation. It’s all fleeting though, meaningless platitudes from temporary friends. They’ll forget you, Jeff. They’ll move on to the next man or woman with a neat little catchphrase. They’ll get behind someone else who they can dub the next Finnegan Wakefield or the next CM Nas in a blog post. And then, when that person fails, much like you have, they’ll shrug and say, “plans change.” And that will be that. You’ll just be another name in an extensive list of guys and girls who didn’t have the killer instinct to survive and thrive here.
 
But this isn’t about you, it’s about me. It’s about the only man worthy of being called the God of War. War is my currency, and I trade it for the success I’ve had here. Wolvesden have been leading a war on everyone, and it is I who have headed the charge. Right now, I’m having to readjust after losing a vital battle in this war. But wolves do not lick their wounds for long, they patch themselves up and go out to hunt once more. I am a very bitter man currently. I am in a great deal of pain, and that pain is succeeded only by the pure, unbridled rage that I’m feeling. I need an outlet for this rage, a conduit through which it can be channelled and exacted. You are the sacrificial lamb, Jeff. You are the one who gives everyone hope. There is nothing I love more than denying people of their futile hope. Every week that you lose, a few more arms making that X sign in the crowd go down, dropping like flies. It won’t be long until it’s just you…and not long after that, you won’t even be around to announce your presence.
 
Jeff X is about to become a faded memory. The answer to a trivia question. I plan on wrapping my hands around your throat and watching the life leave your face. I want you to look me in the eye while I kill you, I want you to know the face of your demise. You will never be a god, Jeff. You will never achieve anything of note. You’ve squandered your promise before it even had a chance to shine. You are an unworthy vessel for such talents. With my hands, I have made men suffer, I have built an enterprise of misery for the uneducated, and a paradise for those who seek the truth.
 
What is that truth? That I am exactly who I say I am. I am an instrument of suffering, one that is in a position he’s never been in before. At Vindication, you saw me following orders. You saw me doing the bidding of the only man in this company that I have any respect for. But me and Kenny have been talking, Jeff. We’ve analysed my situation, it is time for Nate Cage to be free.
 
 
It’s two minutes to midnight, Jeff. Doomsday is inching ever closer. Kenny Drake is not a man who knows fear, but even he knows that letting me off the leash is a risk. And when the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride, it will trigger the end of days. Fortunately, you will not be privy to the glory of this world’s end. Because you will be long dead and buried once it hits. In this world, there are those who run and those who fight. And while I know that you will not run, that doesn’t alter the fact that you will perish no matter what.
 
 
Come the day of judgement, your soul will not be saved, because it will belong to me.
 
 
See…..you……………..soon.
 

 
We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of all that is beautiful. The death of this long-standing concept that we held so dear was most unexpected, but was, in many ways, an inevitability. You see, beauty only had one protector, one lone woman leading the charge to keep it going. This woman went by the name of TyAnna Jupiter. Oh and was she a beauty. She was the embodiment of it. Her title was rightfully granted to her as she fought foe after foe to keep everything together.
 
That was until the heinous attack by a pack of very hungry wolves. It was a horrific shock for onlookers, as these violent creatures plunged their teeth into her flesh, draining the blood from her body and the colour from her beautiful face. TyAnna did not think that she could ever be stopped, not with beauty on her side. And who would dare question her? She had everyone lapping up her words like sweet nectar from the most alluring of plants. She believed herself to be on a level above the rest, a member of an elite class populated entirely by herself.
 
This belief was of course her undoing. Why? Because she was unable to look at the bigger picture. Her worldview was limited to being the best she could be and sticking to her own shallow values. She was not a woman who saw herself as motivated by vanity, but wolves can see through lies and pinpoint the terror of their prey. TyAnna was so easily upset that the wolves tried to enter her property, that she foolishly attempted to hunt them alone. She didn’t listen to the advice of the kindly old farmer who lived on her land, she just grabbed her shotgun and went out into the world. Alone. Helpless. No net to catch her when she fell.
 
Oh, but she was defiant, so very, very brave. Many would equate extreme bravery with extreme stupidity, and they wouldn’t be incorrect. TyAnna’s obsession with the big bad wolves drove her to desperation. When they made their first swipes at her, did she respond with equal viciousness? No. The protector of beauty made juvenile taunts that the wolves cared not for. When a predator is threatened with nothing more than schoolyard insults, does it cower and whimper like a bitch? No, it removes your throat with its teeth.
 
TyAnna of course didn’t know that she was making the biggest mistake of her life. She truly believed that her willpower would carry her through, that she could slay these beasts stepping into her world. It was a tragic affair as they approached from either side and gutted her like a fish. The poor thing never stood a chance. The wolves…they feasted on her carcass to much delight. Their fangs were drenched in her beautiful red blood, their grins a crimson portrait of malice.
 
But that was not enough. They wanted their fair share. So, they returned to the farm and massacred everything in sight. The cattle, the livestock, the kindly old farmer. They took it all and didn’t hesitate in leaving TyAnna’s world razed. You see, TyAnna provoked an animal that she thought she understood. But the old adage of “Don’t hunt what you can’t kill” wasn’t one that she was familiar with. Wolves do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, especially sheep who are herded by a woman as vacuous and arrogant as TyAnna.
 
Despite everything you’ve heard, this story has a happy ending. Because the wolves are not the villains of this tale. In what world is a woman who only lives to preserve her own defined viewpoint of beauty the hero? Especially when she is opposed by animals merely obeying their nature. People thought they saw a hero when they looked at TyAnna, but that was only because she fit into what she had determined a hero was to them. It took the actions of the wolves to make it clear that there is so much more at stake than keeping things at some sort of “level” or “standard”, the establishment was old hat. A change in regime was long overdue.
 
Now, let us pay our respects to what we have lost.
 
 
Enough games, enough parlour tricks. I do love a little bit of theatricality, I am a Cage, after all. But TyAnna, I’m sick of your fucking face. I’m sick of your holier than thou bullshit philosophy. I’m sick of you, you decrepit, hideous cunt. I couldn’t care less about how much you want to “elevate”, because I plan on breaking both of your arms to the point where you won’t be able to even shrug your shoulders in response to someone asking where it all went wrong for you.
 
I’m coming for that title, and there is no depth I won’t sink to to have it as my own. I will lie, cheat, steal, maim, butcher, KILL if it means that will be mine. I am not concerned with having a match that will get the people talking. I do not wish to make women’s wrestling the standard bearer for the OWA. I am not bound by the “responsibilities” that you feel you have as champion. I will march into Vindication with my love by my side, and we will rip off whatever part of you that title resides on. Bring your beauty, bring your pride, bring your next level competitive edge. It will not save you. Your only chance at salvation left your destiny when you decided to make yourself another target for hungry wolves.
 
If you have any sense, you will lie down and let one of us end it quick and clean, but I know that your brain is too backed up with ego to allow that. Your fiery spirit will only ignite the beasts that lie in wait. I hope you believe in horror stories, TyAnna.
 
You’re in one.

Normally when you say “I’m tired of talking,” Layne, you kind of just stop right there, but you know what? Good, because I’m tired of listening. Because at the end of the day, you have 1/3 of the people talking about how they are failures, the other third talking about their over inflated ego, and the other third, including myself and Jeff X, essentially talking about and adding nothing at all. Because at this point, with this much testosterone in the ring, ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN. Past failures and success amounts to nothing here. It’s the wild card of the evening, considering we all have something over someone, but what does it even all mean? I’m not going to talk about how I beat the Monolith, and assume that means I can beat each and everyone of you. In fact, beating someone once doesn’t mean jack shit when you take into consideration that over time, your body either decays or gets stronger. So am I suppose to believe that all six men in this match are getting stronger and better over time? Well that’s just wishful thinking, when already, I think half of us are already over the idea of winning this match. I mean, what do I have to gain from being the Spartan Championship beyond simply beating Monolith again and having to, you guess it, face each and every single one of you losers again.
 
Oh yay. That’s what I want to do. Deal with the endless circle jerk of guys talking and acting like they are better than they are, yet trying so hard for any form of recognition that isn’t quite a world title. Y’all need to bring your standards up. If you are all going to write your own fan fiction, especially Kai Stevens and Jack the Ripper, atleast aim bigger. Can we cut the bullshit here and talk about why we are treating this as a marathon? Like as in everyone feels the need to slowly climb up to the top like they are Scotty Adams, when in truth, all you need to do is one huge grand gesture to cement yourself into the game. I’m not talking about torturing women. I’m not talking about walking through nature. I sure as hell ain’t talking about down putting yourself as an underdog and getting sympathy points from the crowd as Kurobane has been doing. Like tugging on the string connected to our hearts, almost convincing me that he has to be the one to win, for all the other Layne Kurobanes out there that work hard and have nothing to show for the work he has done…… Don’t fall for that shit.
 
I was thrown into this match because it was clear as day that I had something different to offer than each and every single one of these individuals. A Challenge. No, I’m not here to win the six pack challenge. I’m here to essentially remind you all to not settle for mediocrity. The moment you do, anybody can be a star, but don’t none of you tell me that these individuals, these fives, have what it takes to reach the apex that is…. THE GOOSE. With that name, comes results. With that name, comes purpose. With that name, follows money and the people. And why am I here? To simply put. I’m here to make each and every single person in this match famous. Layne Kurobane, Kai Stevens, Jeff X, Jax Wylde, and Jack the Ripper. Because at the end of the day, all the allusions, the scenarios, the badass attitude, the bad boy look, and murders, it’s not enough.
 
Where is the sacrifice? What are each and every single person here going to give up for this opportunity to face Monolith for the Spartan Championship? Their body? Pff, Their souls? Scoff. Nah, how about their pride? Because all and all, that is what I’ve giving up. My pride, because I know already what I’m all about. I know what I’m capable of, but to essentially have to hold back so that everyone has a fair chance, that’s almost as much a sacrifice as any. To accept the weak and give them a chance to flourish. How dare people accuse me of being selfish, when I, of all people, continue to step down and share the spotlight, and give each and every single person a shot at what I’ve had, when  everybody knows that if I truly tried, I could hoard it all, and keep all focus on me. But alas, you all need jobs, now don’t you? And minimal, you should all be grateful to just have that alone, but it doesn’t stop there, does it? It’s all about the fame, the fortune, and being the best. Been there, done that, now, I’m on the next level of it all, and if you guys didn’t get it now, I’ll tell you. This match, this insanity you all speak of, this is just a typical play session for me, and no matter the outcome, it matters to me not. I’ll steal the show, I’ll get paid for it, and roll into next week, I keep doing the same shit I’ve been doing, and sure, I have yet to face half of you, it’s only a matter of time when I can really enjoy myself with each and every single one of you like I’d prefer. I mean, how else am I suppose to really show what you all what I’m about. I could win the whole thing, but what would that teach you beyond the fact that I’m just better. It won’t matter. You’ll all either just accept the loss or make up some excuse, as I said, I won’t be listening.
 
Call me a joke all you want, I joke because I can joke about it. I’ll hold any serious train of thought that I have for people that I find worthy of it, and just because I am doing so now, make no mistake, this isn’t because of any of you guys. This is all about me, but rather than fall into the cliché of Jax and Layne and make this a pity party, sure, I’ll play along with you guys.
 
Oh how I just can’t wait to get in the ring with you five and introduce each and every single one of you guys into a world of hurt. The only problem is, who do I start with? The one the harasses women? The one that cost me a win by getting pinned by Layne? The one that managed to sneak a win over me because of Kai Stevens? Or should I just go for the fresh meat that is Jeff X and Jax Wylde. After all, it’s just great to know that if I get bored with beating one of them, I can move on to the next guy, but what would happen if I don’t get my fill. Because in situations like this, someone is going to fuck up, get knocked out, and get pinned before I even notice, because unfortunately, some people here are just weaker than others. Now the question is, which one of you guys is the weakest link?
 
I’ll let you all fight and figure that out for yourselves. Because as far as I’m concerned, you are all weak in the eyes of the Goose. There can be only one, and you can bet the moment you all start boring me, I’ll be the one to end it. And if I have to fight the Monolith again, so be it. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to make up for last time, so atleast I’ll have something to look forward to. God, I can only hope you all make this worth even a mere fraction of my time. But at this rate, not even. As much as I hate to say it, 5 isn’t enough to stop the Goose. If this is all you got, then this match is going to be an embarrassment for you all. Don’t worry if you bought a ticket. I’m sure I’LL be the one to make it all worthwhile.  I’ll be the one to save this match, cluster fuck and all. Don’t you all worry, ease your concerns, swallow down any doubt and bury it, don't fear for what is to come from these five, the future... Kingdom….. I’m here. 




The hero we all need.....The Goose

(The Camera shows a computer screen with a new blank file of Microsoft word open. Suddenly, texts begins to appear on the screen. Typing.)
 
This is a fan fiction. All characters used belong to their users. Any character likeness that occurs in the real world is purely coincidence. Please support the original creators, and buy the fuckin FPV! #Vindication
 
“My god, this is a sausage fest…. Let’s eat.” Said the The Goose. Five other men in the shadow nod in agreement as we see get a better view of a wrestling ring. The temperature of the room, a breezy  and cool 69 degrees. Nipples stiff and rigid, but the energy and tension emitting from the ring causes sweat to glisten from The Gooses’ brow.
 
Layne Kurobane steps forward, “I’ll get the fire starting.” Layne pulls his hair back with his head band, before dropping to his knee and over a fire pit. Layne pulls out a bottle. “Oh no, it seems you all already used all the gasoline? I guess I’ll just have to make use of this baby oil. Luckily it’s flammable.” Layne lifts the bottle over his head and aims for the pit. “Ooh, got some all over myself.”
 
“Looks like you need some help with that.” Said Kai Stevens. Kai and Layne look into each other eyes as Kai gives off a slick smile. Layne returns a suggestive look of his own. “Thanks, how was your trip to Mexico, by the way?”
 
Kai’s smile turns to a frown as he helps rub Layne’s stick with his stone to get the fire started. “It was alright. I didn’t get to quite see the bulls like I wanted. The horns, the shit, you know the good stuff.” Kurobane out of curiosity asks, “why the bulls?”
 
Kai chuckles as he puts his hand on Layne’s shoulder. “It’s hard to explain, but there is just something about seeing a man pick a fight with a bull, challenging something that he really shouldn’t be, with the possibility he might just get impaled.”
 
“Impaled, you say? Oh, I get that feeling.” Jack the Ripper said as he steps forward, knife in hand. “Hello “friends.” Can I introduce you to my little friend?” Jack places the cold steel blade upon his face and licks the shaft.
 
Everyone stares at Jack the Ripper, unknown to what kind of shit he is into, but still curious. Jax Wylde places his hand upons, Jack, and motions the knife down. “Settle down there, save that for later.”
“Who the bloody hell are you?” snapped the Goose. “The name is Jax Wylde. I am the bad boy of the group, and emotional wreck, a broken doll. Women can’t help but fall for m, thinking they can fix me, change me, but it’s never enough. What I need… it’s a man’s touch.”
 
Jack raises his butcher knife once more, “How about I find out what is wrong with you, by getting inside of ya?” Out of nowhere, “What I need inside of me is a couple of brewskis?” Jeff X pushes Jack and Jax to the side to get in the middle of the group. “We gonna beat each other asses here or nah?”
 
“Depends, is the fire ready?” The Goose asks. Kai responds, “Oh, it’s… no, we’re ready,” covered in oil. Layne Kurobane rises from the ground and speaks. “I LIKE FIRE AND MAKING METAPHORS ABOUT FIRE!”
 
 “Alright Bois, looks like we are ready. If we gonna do this. We are going to lay down the rules. First off, no touching of the hair or face,” said the Goose. “Of course!” Jax Wylde yells as everyone nods in agreement. “AND THAT IS ALL!! Let’s do it!”
 
“Careless Whispers” by George Michaels begins to play as all six men grab one another. A gust of wind blows and everything seems to move in slow motion. Sweat hitting the floor as each man play rough with the other. Kai Stevens attempting to grab Layne Kurobane by the horn, The Goose slapping Jeff X across the face and Jeff growls “harder!” Jax Wylde trying to wrestle the knife out of Jack’s hand. Each man taking a turn to zip on and off his fanny pack.
 
“Don’t forget about me!”
 
All six men stopped what they are doing and turn their heads. Their eyes widen as they see a bug burley man. It’s Monolith, wearing nothing but his Spartan Championship belt. Beard and Chest hair running Wylde. ….”Who wants to take this belt off of me? …Be gentle.”
 
 
Goose: What are you doing?
 
(Camera pans back out to the room where Revy, Moongoose McQueen’s twin precocious sister is at the computer typing while the Goose is standing in the back ground.”
 
Revy: Quiet, I’m hot and wet right now!!
 
Goose: I mean, what are you doing here, Revy? Shouldn’t you be at work or something?
 
Revy: Bitch, I got fired from there.
 
Goose: What did you do?
 
Revy: I killed someone. …… I was the reason Olympus keeps getting delayed. …… I’m the one the threw a shoe at Nikki Minaj…….. sigh….. I learned how to screenshot.
 
Goose: Revy. Come on. Screen-shotting? You know how frickin dangerous that shit is? People get fired over that crap all the time. Screenshots have ruined relationships! Ugh. Whatever, what are you doing in my house?
 
Revy: Can’t an aunt come by, drop off her boys, see her niece and nephew, and visit her brother?
 
Goose: Sure, but that’s not why you are here.
 
Revy: Look, I heard you were in a six pack challenge, and I was thinking, “Hey, a Challenge I can actually win.”
 
Goose: Six Pack Challenge means six people, Revy.
 
Revy: I know that now! You can’t be the angry one here. I am.
 
Goose: sigh, How is you in the missus?
 
Revy: Wife is good. Looking for a new job. Which you know, hey, hey. Can you hook a sistah up?
 
Goose: Can’t you ask Savannah to help you out with that? Weren’t you two tight or something?
 
Revy: We don’t talk anymore. Bitch was right. She steps away from me, and now she is the fuckin’ Queen of the Ring. It’s like she is ashamed of me of some shit.
 
Goose: Can’t blame her. Now what the hell were you doing on my computer?
 
Revy: Glad you ask. I was helping you write your little fan fiction.
 
Goose: Fan Fiction?
 
Revy: Yeah, you just had a list of 5 random ass names for characters, and I rolled with it.
 
(The Goose stares at the screen)
 
Goose: Revy, these are real people. They are my opponent for this weekend.
 
Revy: You sure? But, their names sounds like something a people come up with online when they were kids because they thought it was cool. I mean, Jack the Ripper?
 
Goose: Real.
 
Revy: Jax Wylde and Jeff X?
 
Goose: Real and real.
 
Revy: Kai Stevens?! That’s so stupid!
 
Goose: Yep.
 
Revy: Ok, Layne Kurobane is pretty cool.
 
Goose: No it isn’t. Look, Revy. It’s good to see you. And I’m sure wherever you go, you’re going to do great. But here, in OWA, we have rules and regulations, and I need to really focus on this match. Like, do you have any idea just how much time you have taken from me that I need to put into talking about each and every single one of my opponents here?
 
Revy: Pfffffff, lame!
 
Goose: On another note, while I shouldn’t waste my time saying this, because word counts are precious. Revy, your fan fiction was just not good. I mean, the way you introduce each character just isn’t balanced. I mean, you have guys like the Goose and Jeff X barely get any indepth character descriptions, the dialogue is atrocious, and making dynamics where characters like Layne, Jack, and Jax just say exactly what they are and like is just lazy ass writing. I mean, look at this shit. “I LIKE FIRE AND MAKING METAPHORS ABOUT FIRE!!” Where is the emotional appeal?! He isn’t relatable! I don’t have any reason to believe Layne or any of these other characters have a hard on for each other. WHAT IS THEIR PURPOSE FOR THIS GAY ORGY?!!
 
Revy: Look, I can only work with what I am given. At the end of the day, Layne keeps talking about things burning and going up in smokes like he’s a fuckin’ fire bender or some shit. Some of the shit I’ve said for Jax Wylde is almost shit he has said himself to the point, that man isn’t fighting 5 other men, but six if you include himself, and yes, he is essentially kicking his own ass right now. Kai Steven has about zero personality. Jeff X doesn’t say anything. And Jack the Ripper is a stereotypical white boi that would shoot up a school. You try to make a good gay porno from this. And don’t even get me started with the Goose. Like why the fuck is he even in all of this?! It’s like they just threw him in there last minute.
 
Goose: You done?  Because I got shit that needs to be done, and you already took up like half of the time.
 
Revy: Yeah, I’m done. By the way, can you give this box to Aria? Tell her I miss her.
 
 Goose: It’s a flash bang, isn’t it?
 
Revy: ……Noooo?
 
Goose: Get out!
 
(Revy takes her box and bottle of beer as she walks out of the camera shot. The Goose shaking his head back and forth, before looking directly at the camera.)
 
Ok, so I feel like I owe you all a big apology for that. She drinks a lot, blah blah blah. Excuses. But don’t think the Goose has forgotten all about you all. And as much as I hate to say it…. I’m not as excited as you all. I mean, I already beaten the Monolith once, even if it wasn’t for the title, but this is just the Spartan Championship after all. It’s not like it’s going to change anything if one of you boys are the OWA Spartan Championship, because at the end of the day, y’all ain’t ever going to be the Goose. The man, the myth, the legend.
 
I’m sure we are all on the same page here. Each and every single one of us here doesn’t give a damn about one another and we are all in the interest of winning for ourselves? Cool. So why are doing all of this? Why are we trying to intimidate one another. I mean, we have Kai Steven essentially taking every single thing he sees and feels so damn compelled to make it a metaphor about us. Ooh, I see bulls, my opponents are bulls. I see nature, my enemies are nature. I can do that too. Just a few minutes ago, I took a dump, and I flushed Kai Steven’s career down the drain! Bitch here is threatening to shove my face into the canvas, but try you stupid ass dog. If you are gonna bite, I’ll put you down, and you can make a damn metaphor about how the floor is bullshit, and no matter how often you try to get up from it, someone, say the Goose, is going to put you in your place and the constant cycle in the Book of Kai. Kai Stevens meets bullshit. Bullshit meets Kai Stevens. It’s a better love story than Twilight, but jokes on you, ain’t nobody gonna want to read or follow the story of your life, especially knowing there will never be a damn satisfying conclusion that only leads to constant underwhelming results that leads Kai Steven being trapped in the ever so abusive mistress that is constant bullshit. Vindication will be no different.
 
Layne, you over-dramatic beautiful son of a bitch. Don’t think I didn’t forget about last time we met. I mean, you, me, Kai Stevens, Triple Threat, where you took the win on Kai. Reference non existing chapter in the Book of Kai Stevens, because I’m sure he left that info out. And I suppose I never really got a chance to say congrats. If anything, buddy, you are my pick to win this match, if I wasn’t in it, of course. Honestly, I don’t like matches like this, where there are too many people involved. If only we could cut the fat and really get to the meat and bones of it all. I want to face you again Layne. But not like this. Not under these circumstances where if we can’t put each other down, there is option b, c, d, and x. I won’t waste more words with you. I’m not going to pretend I don’t see you as a worthy opponent, despite how damn fuckin’ extra you are.
 
Jack the Ripper. I just want you to know. If the police stop by your place with a search warrant. That was me, because I’m sure it’s either a, illegal to kidnap and torture a woman, b, to badly impersonate someone else and assume their identity, and c, completely shit on it like it’s an indie film on a small budget funded by your mother.  Let’s not forget this is a wrestling industry. You gotta wrestle around here, so I hope you are putting more time and effort actually learning to wrestle than trying to practices every damn fuckin’ horror cliché in the book. Like, don’t be a fuckin bitch. Either show it, or don’t have it at all. You think that little skit had me jumping out of my seat screaming, “RUN BITCH!! RUN!! HE GONNA KILL YOU!!” When you are nothing more than a scrawny ass white boy with a knife. Oh look, Jack is ever fuckin pre-teen emo fan in the world. And as cool as you think it is to idolize “Jack the Ripper,” bitch, that mofo only targeted woman. Do I look like a woman? Do you want me to whip out my knife and swing it and smack you in the face with it? Bitch, you ain’t scary. You ain’t nothing! I can’t wait til all the feminists get all up in your grill, because Jack. Why you targeting only women?! Huh?!! Huh?!!! You a cowards taking advantage of the weak? Bitch, just try that shit on Aria Jaxon, she’ll fuck you up, and I’ll be right here with popcorn in hand ready to watch. Assclown like you deserve a proper beating. I’ll smack you so hard, the OG Jack the Ripper is gonna feel it and be like, “DAMN! These punk ass bitches have made me a fuckin’ meme!” DISGRACEFUL!
 
Jax Wylde…. I’d call you a loser, but you beat me to it. I mean, you said it, not me. Honestly, I had no fuckin clue who you are until today. I mean, are you even suppose to be here? Are you lost? Do you need someone to show you the way? Well, you can trust the Goose. I’m kind of a big deal around here. I mean, you want to fight Monolith. I beat him with an elbow. Honestly, I don’t quite see what the big deal about him is. I mean, he’s big, but size doesn’t necessarily matter. No, I lied, it kind of actually does matter. Moving on. So I see you are kind of locked on Layne for a bit. I get it. Kurobane-senpai won’t notice you.  And all you can really try to do is try to copy him and try to get his attention. Because yes, between you and Layne, you are both equally huge bummers, essentially trying to see who can humble yourselves the most. But you see, Jax, there is a problem with that. You aren’t fuckin’ Layne Kurobane. He is actually too good for his own good. You, however, already demonstrate  how it’s almost as if you don’t even believe the things you are saying to try to motivate yourself. I mean, are you even trying? Atleast Kurobane has the B.S. about how Fire can be distinguished, go up and smokes, and be reignited. It’s cute, but he’s like that caveman who discovered fire for the first time, and won’t stopping grunting about it. Thank you for that, by the way. But already, you’ve have put up the least impressive argument that you will win this weekend, and Jeff X hasn’t even said a damn thing!
“Ooh, I’ve driven by chaos. Six men in a ring, Jax Wylde is charging his chaos laser and going to wipe everyone out with it!” So your game plan is essentially to take advantage of the confusion that will occur. That’s a great plan and all, but the problem with that is, “luck” can only carry you so far. Look,Wylde, you can’t come here, change “fire” to “chaos” and think you’re already on Layne’s level. While we are at it, don’t go around talking about the fuckery that will happen when there is a good chance, you aren’t even going to be the one causing it. You know that song? “We didn’t start the fire?..... It was always burning since the world was turning.” Billy Joel. Same concept. Chaos has always been there since the beginning. It’s essentially the laws of physics, so my logic is this. If you couldn’t win back then, what are the damn chances that chaos is going to have anything in helping you win now. You’ll be fuckin lucky if you don’t walk out of this match with a broken Neck. Hell, if you’ll be lucky if I don’t break your neck, and if I do, it’s not because of chaos. No, It’s, as cliché as it sounds, “vindication. “ Don’t blame chaos for when you lose. Blame yourself for being an easy target.
 
And Jeff X…. sigh…. All I want to say about you is….
 
(The screen goes to black because the camera ran out of battery. Frickin 3000 word count batteries)

[We start this off with Isaac practicing his entrance for his big match at Vindication. He goes through every detail, whether it's small or large, with the production team. He makes sure the spotlight is bright enough. Next, he tells the audio guy to turn his music up an extra notch, as he closes his eyes and visualizes the crowd in attendance and the chorus of boos he will be met with. A time-lapse goes by as Isaac continues to go over everything to make sure it's all perfect. The scene transitions to the arena, that is now dark, until the spotlight appears, shining down on Isaac Thornton, as he sits comfortably in his director's chair. He looks like a million bucks with his sharp grey suit and black tie, and he also feels like a million bucks. He sits in silence, as he's in the middle of a deep thought.]

Isaac: Do you remember your first signature win? Yes, a signature win. Not just some random victory on a weekly show that was later forgotten about a day later. Or your first ever win that you will cherish forever. Nor am I talking about some fluke victory that many will hold against you until you prove otherwise. But a signature win. A win that proved you're more than just potential. More than a flavor of the month. A night when you shattered the reputation of being labeled as a flash in the pan. A night you proved you haven't just caught lightning in a bottle, that instead, you're the real deal, that you are as good as advertised. I am talking about a win that caused eyebrows to raise. A win that forced people to pay attention to you. A win that proved that you might very well be ready for this cutthroat business. That you are cut from a different cloth than the usual pretenders that have zero staying power. Do you remember that win, Aria? I am sure you do, but when it comes to me and my short career, I don't. I haven't had that moment, so therefore I don't have that thought stored away in my memory bank - yet. Not yet, Aria. See, just by signing my OWA contract, I got my foot in the door in this business. That's it. Just a foot in the door. And sure, I have picked up some decent victories here and there - just enough to keep that door from slamming shut in my face. But I am ready for more. I am ready for my moment. A defining moment, Aria. A moment where I rip the hinges off and bust through that door as I put the world on notice - to put this Kingdom roster on notice - telling them that I have arrived and that I am going to take every opportunity away from them, now and forever. See, there's a reason why I chose you as my next target. Yes, that's right, I chose you Aria. And in the process of choosing you, it wasn't random. I didn't just draw your name from a hat or hit your face with a dart. Oh no, I chose you because you are arguably the best wrestler today. Yes, wrestler. I won't just limit you to the "Alpha" tag. But notice how I said arguably. Because it depends on who you ask. Every wrestling "expert" in their mother's basement has their own criteria when it comes to crowning the "goat." As of now, my name doesn't belong in that conversation. I know that. I have to accomplish a whole lot more before I get the recognition that I deserve. But, over time, I am going to start making the case of being the best and you Aria? You are going to help kickstart that talk. You are going to help build my resume, Aria. You are going to be just one of my many references that will be able to attest to just how good I truly am. You are so kind! 

[Isaac smirks for a second, but his face returns to a stoic state because he knows there is so much on the line come tomorrow night and if he doesn't treat this matchup or his opponent seriously, he has no shot in winning.]

Isaac: So in case you haven't realized this yet, or you're just too oblivious to notice the writing on the wall, I am using you, Aria. A feeling I am sure you are all too familiar with. Whether it came from your friends or rivals, or friends that became your rivals. Those are the worst, huh? Those closest to you, turning on you, hitting you where it hurts the most. It does a lot of emotional damage and you acquire trust issues because of it. But hey, at least I am being blunt with you. There is no hidden agenda here. No double-crossing. I am not here to get in your good graces, Aria. I am just here to warn you that I am going to beat you to a bloody pulp come tomorrow night and I am going to love every second of it. Now, does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. In my "humble" opinion, it's just my competitive side showing. And if you aren't competitive, then you will get eaten alive here. Kind of like the old saying, "if you ain't cheating, you're not trying!" A quote you're a big fan of, if we take a close look and dissect your time in SSW. Oh yeah, I am a big fan of Strong Style Wrestling. And at some point, I just might make an appearance over there. Maybe sooner rather than later after I dismantle one of their stable's leader so bad, they are going to need a new one and I would make the most sense when it comes to the replacement, right? I mean, I would do a way better job than you or John Doe could ever dream of. But over there, you cheat all the time. That's how you won their world title. That's how you would often retain it. Phantom Troupe gift wrapped you that title. They placed it in your lap. Just like being promoted to the PT leader fell in your lap. And over here in OWA, a few months ago, we watched as Robbie and HBG helped their daughter beat you and then people wanted to cry foul? Nah fuck that, it doesn't work like that. You don't get it both ways. It's just that - how you are so beloved in OWA and then so hated in SSW is mind-boggling. It's as if there are two worlds. As if we are just supposed to ignore one or the other like there is no story continuation here. So you see Aria, you wear many masks, that much is clear, but underneath you will always be ugly. 

But maybe OWA and SSW are in fact two different worlds. Because over in SSW, you're killing it. You're what, undefeated in the BITW Series? So impressive! Much wow! And before I continue, I know Aria or one of her dozens of fans will say I am obsessed with her career or something along those lines, but the fact is, like I already stated, I am a fan of SSW, okay? They are our partner company after all, so why wouldn't I show them some love and support? Jeez! But as I was saying, you're killing it over there. You've won a world title, you're on the cusp of winning the BITW tournament thing, but over here in OWA - you've been doing what exactly? Jack shit, right? The way I see it, I am like your guardian angel or some shit. While you were doing nothing but sitting on the sidelines, twiddling your thumbs, making small talk with backstage employees to help pass time, I gave you a purpose. I gave you a reason to show up to work every Sunday. Two weeks ago you wouldn't have shown your face on OWA television if it wasn't for me calling you out. The same goes for last week as you did what you do best and that is sit on your ass, as you watched me compete. Giving you two weeks off. Two weeks you would have gotten completely off, if it wasn't for me. Don't you see? I am putting food on your table at the moment. I extended a hand when no one else was willing to help you out. So if you put two and two together, I am not your enemy, Aria. Oh no, I am your savior! 

And you can laugh all of this off if you want. Scoff at all of my remarks. Try to debunk all these facts I am hitting you with and that is fine. You will only come off as desperate in your efforts, which would only be fitting because at Vindication, it'll match your fight style - desperate. I have you under my thumb. I know what to expect. I know the lows you will sink to. I know the tricks you will try to pull out of thin air. I've seen it all. I have you figured out, Aria. Which hey, I am sure you've heard that same exact line from your opponents countless times before, only for them to fall flat on their face as you get the last laugh! Something you tell them about prior to the match and their response is usually, "Well, I am different!" However, I am not here to tell you I am different, Aria. With Vindication right around the corner, why not show you instead? Why not leave a little something to the imagination, right? But yeah, I feel like I should fear you. At least, that's what people keep telling me. But I don't. If anything, you are slowly becoming a shell of your former self. Which goes back to me comparing your career here in OWA to yours in SSW. How it's night and day. It's kind of like Scott Oasis in that regard. He dominates over there in Japan. He even sent your personal bodyguard, Gronk, through the meat grinder. But over here in OWA? He's getting his ass handed to him by Wolvesden almost every week. Or at least, it seems that way, as he continues his quest to win the war against them, as his partners continue to enter and leave the never-ending revolving door. So on OWA soil, I am even more confident that I can, in fact, beat you. But then again I could beat you on any continent, so it doesn't really matter. 

It's true though, that I got myself into this "mess." That it was I, who fired the first shot and now you are looking for that killshot. People keep saying by challenging the "Queen of insert company name here", is a grave mistake. As if I am MGK dropping a diss track. "Hello Aria, my name is Isaac you should go back to EAW recovery." But nah, I know what I am doing. I know what I have gotten myself into and I don't regret it one bit. NOT ONE BIT! Because I am building a reputation here. And sure, I could keep beating up the likes of Axl Willow, Goose, Layne - and stuff them in their lockers, but it doesn't prove much in the long run, now does it? It doesn't really strike fear into the hearts of my future opponents. But beating Aria on pay-per-view? Now we are getting somewhere. This week, I have something to prove. And that is I am capable of knocking off top-tier opponents like Aria Jaxon and Finnegan Wakefield. The latter, I have already beaten, but the people don't care because I didn't beat him when it "mattered the most." And that might be true, but the fact of the matter is, we are both tied at the end of the day, 1-1, so he isn't better than me, whether it be mathematically or literally. Just like you aren't better than me, Aria and you aren't about to prove me wrong. Nah instead, you will prove me right! Because you see Aria, I am sculpting something special here with my talent, with my brand, and with my name! And that is - an empire. I am sure you love that word, by the way: empire. Brings back fond memories, doesn't it? But I am building this empire with my people. Whether it be my representatives or my loyal supporters. An empire that will rule OWA with an iron fist. And they can rest easy knowing they are backing the right dog in this fight and not the bitch that is about to be put down! 

Thank you in advance for my signature win, Aria! You are going to make one fine supporting actor at Vindication! Ta ta! 

[Isaac winks as the scene fades to black]

You’re wrong about a lot, Kevin.  While you and I may have some tendencies in common, one of us is a stone cold bastard and that definitely isn’t you.  Because of that, running away isn’t even an option for El Capitan, CASPIAN. Since you don’t seem to know what I’m all about, let me run you by through why you will be buried alive by the end of our match at Vindication.

Yo no soy un cobarde.  I’m no pussy who has any desire to run away from you or anyone in the OWA locker room.  I have never been afraid of any man, dead or alive. I’ve had guns pulled against my head, testing the waters of death, but I was never frightful of that outcome.  So when you finally decided to show yourself, it was almost like that feeling came back, rushing through my veins. I saw this so-called fate that you presented to me and I laughed til I couldn’t laugh no more, esse.  You think tormenting me will cause me to back off and fade into obscurity? Hell no, idiota! If you want to know what true fear is, just step into the ring with me because I’m not calm anymore. Laugh all you want, Kevin, but you have made an enemy with me, someone who is very powerful in a global scale.  Why are you my enemy on a personal level now exactly? You stepped over the line when you decided to bring my loved ones into this Halloween ripoff! You took away MY NARCISA from me and you left her in a state of fear and anger. She had nothing to do with our conflict, yet you thought it was wise to put her in danger.  That’s where you fucked up and you may be pleased by my reaction, but you have to remember; I’m a cold blooded son of a bitch. Originally, I had planned to just beat you down so you could use your Life Alert device, but now I’m gonna make sure you’re dead in the ground.

In a way, Grave Consequences is a perfect term as to what you’ve sentenced yourself for.  You could’ve came after any other man in the roster and left with yourself intact. However, you wanted to come after one of the biggest stars in the company right now.  You may call me a parasite who hurts innocent people, but you’re wrong about that. The people who I’ve hurt had a legitimate reason to be taken out and I don’t regret anyone’s blood that I’ve spilled.  Some wanted to kill me or members of my family as they wanted to grow in power. If you really think I’m stupid enough to let myself die, you’re absolutely wrong. In the world that I lived in, you either fight for your life and grow in power or you bow down and take your death with acceptance.  This is different from your fantastical black and white world, KD. Where I grew up, good or bad didn’t exist; there was only grey. You may think I’m bad, but in Honduras, I’m worshipped by the people there. Americans don’t like my ways but if I gave a shit about their opinions, I’d be like every generic white boy running around in OWA.  You see me as a man who is in the wrong and who needs to be served justice to, but who’s truly in the wrong here? Who was the man who decided to start random attacks on me when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong? You. Who was the man who decided to get his hands on mi amor? You. Who keeps trying to hold me down in this business? It’s all you, Kevin.  I’m not a man who’s in the wrong at all now. You came back because you want to capitalize on what I’ve done in my 6 months in OWA. I’ve been killing it and people have taken notice to the name CASPIAN. You just get back into the ring so people will remember what you did a million years ago, which wasn’t really that significant. That’s all in the past, yet you want to hinder el futuro.  I know you want to bury me alive, but I’m a man who won’t let you do that.

How do you even know that you’ll win, KD?  The last time you actually came back, you came back to torment Nathan Fiora, but you know what happened?  After talking all that good shit and tried to scare the heebeegeebees out of that C+ player, you got skewers on your head and lost in your own match.  That’s when you should’ve retired, but I guess you’re okay with CASPIAN putting you out of your misery like I’ve done to everyone else who stands against my life.  Keep in mind that I could mop the floor with a guy of that caliber, so honestly, you should’ve thought this out better.

I know where I’m walking in this forest that you’ve put me into, cabron.  I’ll keep playing your Friday The 13th rip-off but just remember that Jason always dies at the end, so I’ll be very satisfied when we get to that part.  Keep watching my every move because you’re going to need to have the greatest strategy in the world to know what I’m going to do to you this Monday. You think you’re playing all these mind games and gaining the advantage, but what happens when it’s gonna be you and me in the same ring, fighting for our lives?  This is a situation where I’m certain I do it better than you ever do it on your part time schedule, esse. I’m a realistic lowlife who knows that a man in his prime is going to break your hip after one simple strike, but I’m just pointing out la verdad. I promised mi madre that I wouldn’t chingar any elders, but I’m sure she would be fine with me doing that for this one case.  Anything will go and don’t be surprised if I pull some of my own trucos because why follow rules when there won’t be any? I consider this as a medicine for my lack of action for the past couple of weeks. All my progress towards becoming the OWA Champion stopped when you decided to interfere in my career and tried to spiral it out of control. Your sin tried to creep into my mind, tempting me to let go of all the effort I’ve put into my wrestling career, but I have too much lust for success to do that.  Vernon hasn’t been able to stop me, neither has Scotty Adams and you absolutely won’t. If you really wanted to be honest with yourself, you’d know that you’re asking for closure and the only man who’ll be able to make that certain is me. As much of a sadistic fuck I can be, you know you’re just like me and the best way that your career can end is a better version of you taking you down.

This is going to be your end and I hope you’ve been able to make peace with yourself knowing that there’s a 100% chance that you’re going to be buried.  You may have started this battle between you and I, but I’m more than glad to end you just like any rival of mine. This is a familiar setting for me and I’m more than aware this will be the same case for you Kevin.  It’s time to sleep with the rest of the damned souls that I’ve taken out of existence.

VINDICATION PROMO #1

"So many friends...so little time!"


[The footage is grainy and the primitive lack of high-definition betrays the outdated media that is being used.  It shakes wildly in all directions as if caught in a maelstrom, making it impossible to discern anything.  It has a vaguely "Blair Witch Project" aura to it, making it all the more haunting.  But there are brief glimpses of things that give subtle, unsettling hints as to what we may soon witness.  A flash of torn clothing...concrete stained with freshly spilled blood...discarded rope...and a sinister smile.  A the noises, while unclear, whisper of dark, evil things to come.  Slowly the camera starts to steady itself, and we are assaulted with an extreme close up image of Jack The Ripper!  His visage is so close you can practically count the number of eye lashes he has.  He wears a smile so sweetly innocent it freezes the blood.  For you know, nothing that can make a man such as him smile like that can be sweet or innocent.]


Jack The Ripper:  Hello hello my sweets!  Oh what a special occasion this has turned out to be!  Only mere days upon celebrating my initial victory within the bloody walls of OWA but do I hear tales of a grand match.  A match that is to include everybody's favorite lil deviant.  And imagine my surprise that when I investigate such a claim that I find not only one, or two...or three...but FIVE new friends for me to play with!  Oh how my sinner's heart jumped for joy at the prospect.  Truly the God's of murder and violence have heard and granted my fervent most wish.  Tis a time for celebration I told myself.  To indulge in that most evil of depravities.  And as I was about the set about creating my newest masterpiece, I say to myself...Jack you fool!  How selfish are you, to keep such a sweet and pretty thing all to yourself?  Didn't your dearly departed mother teach you how to share?  So we all shall together share in this art I shall create, and in doing so...it shall engrave a piece of myself onto the souls of all who witness this!    


[The camera, which must be handheld and opperated by Jack himself takes a sudden turn and takes a moment to focus on its new subject.  Once the image becomes clear, it is as horrifying as you might have imagined.  A young woman, no more than 20 or so, sits alone in a dark corner.  Both her hands and legs are bound in tight rope to prevent escape, and her mouth gagged with duct tape to prevent undue calls for aid.  Her clothes are torn, suggesting signs of a brief struggle, with certain tips coated with blood.  As the camera approaches she moves as much as she can further into the corner, as though she wished to melt into the very stone to escape her tormentor.  As the camera now looms directly in front of her, we see heavy tear stains line her cheeks.]

This is my most special guest for the occasion.  Say hello my dear.

[Jack reaches from off camera and removes the gag.  The woman's voice is tremulous and full of empty desperation.]  

Woman:  Please!  Let me go!  Don't do this!  I don't wanna-

[But before she can finishes her words, Jack returns the gag to its place, silencing her once again.  He then strokes her cheek, not unkindly, as if trying to comfort.  The woman looks equal parts afraid and disgusted by his loving gesture.]

Jack The Ripper:  Shh shh shhhhhh.  It's ok my sweet.  Soon it'll all be over.  For both you...and my opponents!

[Jack comes into the frame, sitting cheek to cheek with the woman.  He looks at the camera with a murderer's lust, while the woman looks pleadingly for anyone who might be watching to, if unable to save her, then to at least remember her.]

I am unused to dealing with so many victims at once.  I find it more...intimate to deal with them one on one.  More time to enjoy the little emotions that fear of the inevitable brings.  That moment when you see in a person's eye that they know the reaper has come to collect and the light goes out.  That moment when your opponent, your victim is well and truly broken.  In such a moment I find myself feeling so close with whom ever I am creating art with that we are almost like family...maybe even closer than lovers.  But alas I feel I will be denied such tenderness in this match.  Which is why I'm so glad I have you my sweet.

[Jack leans over to kiss the woman on the cheek, licking the tears off her face and savoring the saltiness of her terror.  The woman merely grunts in revulsion.]

However, we true artists make due with whatever tools we have at the time, and this what I must settle for.  But that's ok, for the prize we all must compete for is well worth the sacrifice.  Monolith!  Oh what an appropriate moniker he has found for himself!  A man who wears a king's crown upon his head.  Oh what cautious hunting he would require.  Oh what a challenging canvas his corpse could be!  I seek oh so desperately to dance with him...to know him...to study his insides!  See what color they are!  But I fear he is surrounded by jackals and other scavengers.  Goose, Kai Stevens,Jax Wylde, Jeff X, and Layne Kurobane!  I hear these men braying about like common mules, spouting off their diatribes of promising victory and the like.  And all I can think about whenever I hear their nettlesome voices is how much I would love to see them spout that same verbiage with their throats open!  See how easily they proclaim victory before the battle has started when they are choking on their life force!  But that would be unfair to take care of them before the match began.  And let it not be said that Jack is not a fair man.  So I shall abstain myself for the moment.  But I daresay you shall forgive me if I make my own proclamation.  For none of you shall obtain victory in this coming slaughter.  Why?  Because the reason you fight is vain, empty, and hollow.  You fight only to steal the crown from Monolith's head like a common thief in the night!  You are all men without honor!  I seek no such gold...well at least not yet anyway.


[Jack smirks peevishly.]

No the only glory I seek now is the thrill of the hunt!  The chance to sharpen Mary Jane's blade on only the most worthy of victims.  A man of Monolith's size and strength...surely he is worth of my attention.  Crowns and accolades are but fleeting glory, and only the weak find their ultimate destiny in such things.  But battle?  Death?  Violence?  These were the achievements of man before he became blind with the greed God gave him and money and power corrupted their sight!  These things are greatness in its purest form.  Because no matter what crown you may or may not wear...the dead at your feet remain there for all time!  That is the throne upon which I plan to sit!  And the bones of my victims shall be my crown!  Already I have begun with Mace.  But one victory does not make a conqueror.  But add five more to that...and things start to look very very differently don't they?


[From out of nowhere Jack draws Mary Jane.  The woman shivers and goes deathly silent, as if trying to save and treasure every breath she has.  Jack takes the blade of Mary Jane and cuts slowly down the woman's cheek, who is unable to contain her muffled scream of pain.]


You men...you five little sheep.  I do not care who you are, what you think, or what you have to say.  Because in the end we all before death when it comes.  And I am death's shadow!  I am the scythe for which he uses to cut your mortal coil!  Struggle against it all you want, pray what little prayers give you comfort in the final nights to come.  Just know that as you sleep...the night is MY time!  The time of the hunter...of the killer on the prowl!  And as your back is turned, you never know just when Mary Jane just...might...give you...a kiss!  

[Finally done, Jack picks up the camera and walks over to a nearby table that has gone unnoticed before now.  As we approach, we see it is littered with all sorts of deadly tools.  A hammer...a pair of scissors...pliers...and various others and all of coated with the blood and rust of frequent use.  Jack places the camera on the table where it finally goes completely still.  Jack examines his tools for a moment like a whiner connoisseur selecting his vintage.  Soon he has selected a nasty looking handsaw and walks off.  There is a few seconds of nothing.  And then...]

Woman:  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

[She screams and screams and screams, the horrors she is experiencing unknown to us.  But what is known is that it can be expected that her life, and the life of those in the Six Pack Challenge will soon, at the hands of Jack The Ripper...   


...Fade to black.]

 
Vindication is a lovely little word. Vindication means to be absolved of all blame. To have the weight of suspicion of wrongdoing lifted off your shoulders. Vindication is what Scott Oasis seeks…it’s what he needs. Scott never understood that our little spat was not personal. I was a champion and I fought to protect what was mine. But Scott, when you stuck your nose in our title match, in our business, you made it personal. You ripped my baby away from me and handed it into enemy territory. You gave another army our accolades, this is something I cannot abide by.
 
 
The fallen soldiers who shall not be mourned. Here lies the remnants of the unit called Fight Club. Fight Club were a group of men who believed that they could take on the world. That their combination of deadly size and skill would give them the edge over anyone who stood in front of them. This delusion was quickly stripped away, as it became apparent that they were nothing more than an irritating obstacle for true soldiers to overcome.
 
The first time we saw this group was at Game Over. The OWA Bloodline Tag Team Championships needed their first holders, and Fight Club were the odds on favourite. Did they win the titles? No. Did they even make it to the final team in the match? No. Fight Club fell to the Candy Cunts, a team so useless that myself and Kenny beat them no less than three times. A team we beat so much that we drove them apart to the point that they were opponents the last time they were together.
 
Fight Club’s legacy of failure began that night, but it was merely a continuation of the ballad of Scott Oasis. A tale of tragedy. Tell me, Scott, when was the last time you actually won a match? I honestly can’t remember. Michael Bishop made you his bitch at Hardcore Havoc. The Candy Cunts laughably put you away at Game Over. I can’t even remember who beat you at Budokai Tenkaichi, all I remember is you losing. Boling Point? Your finest hour. You failed to protect your friend, Carlos Rosso. He’s now running around playing revolutionary on Olympus with The Unchained. Me and Kenny showed you exactly why you’re a failure, we took everything from you…but you just didn’t get the message.
 
You disappeared from the public eye, spiralling into a deep depression, your physical appearance degrading more and more each time we got a glimpse of your shameful self. You even tried to infiltrate Heaven’s Den and got fucking annihilated, what kind of moron takes on an army by himself? Oh, but you just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?
 
Burning Sky was our moment, a moment you saw fit to snatch from us. I can understand your anger, your frustrations, I’m not a stupid man. You believe that you’re fighting some sort of righteous cause, but there is only one man in the OWA who is truly righteous, and you’re looking at him. Have you not seen the empire I have built here? I make history at every turn, you create disappointment. You entered this company with so much hype and have failed to even register a win on pay-per-view yet. Meanwhile, I am unpinned and unsubmitted at major events, I show up, wreak havoc, and enjoy the spoils of war.
 
That is my legacy, one that will be remembered for years to come. When people look back at what I’ve done here, they will be grateful. They will know that I was only trying to show them all true righteousness. I will hand it to you though, Scott, you’ve got them on your side. I honestly never thought I’d see the day. A man once vilified and hated by the masses, cheered on as some sort of folk hero. It’s adorable. So blinded by their ignorance of what Wolvesden are creating that they turn to a man who cares for nothing but satisfying his own inflated ego. It’s alright Scott, this support will be fleeting at best. It will dissipate when your failures are on full display at Vindication.
 
Last week, you thought you’d got the better of me, laying me out with that little pipe of yours. It’s a shame you’re too fucking stupid to anticipate that maybe…just maybe I’d show up prepared. I don’t want to run from you, Scott. I want to fight you more than anything else in the world. When I lost my title, I didn’t know what to think. I was too busy being pulled out of the hole in the wall that you drove me through and getting my head stapled together.
 
 
Another battle scar for my collection, another trophy for the cabinet that is my body. The funny thing is though, in knocking me out cold, you woke me up. The depressive state I sunk into without my title almost took total control over me. I thought I was nothing, I thought it was all over. I had such wonderful plans to make the tag division my kingdom that would last a thousand generations, yet it was snuffed out in the blink of an eye by you.
 
I’d allowed myself to become defined by my accomplishments and not by own agency. I realise that I brag an awful lot about the impact I’ve made here, and that’s because I can. Scott, I haven’t made empty promises like you have. I’ve followed through on everything and it scares the shit out of you. It why you tried to soften me up for Vindication, which obviously failed. It’s why you didn’t want me to be tag champion, because you needed me singled out in one desperate bid to pluck yourself out of obscurity.
 
When we meet at Vindication, I am almost afraid of what I’ll do. I’ve come to realise that beating you isn’t enough. I need to eradicate any trace of your existence. Your army is gone and so is your aura of invincibility. All I see when I look at Scott Oasis is a shell of muscle and bone. Everything that you hit me with - be it your body or weapons – will be revisited upon you tenfold. You need to feel pain at a level that only I can bring just one more time, so that you know your time is done. You’re an old man with one remaining ember of relevance, and I will bring an entire tsunami to extinguish it. I want every part of you at Vindication. Not so that I can feel the full force of your might, but so I can dismantle everything you have while the world, your team, and your wife watch.
 
And when it is all over, that will mark the end of your tale. Your ballad, mired with tragedy, will be mercifully put to rest. And the author of that tragedy’s name will read: Nate Cage.
 

 
Doctor: Students, here we have our most fascinating patient. A woman who accomplished many a great thing in her life. A woman whose beauty was the envy of everyone she met. A woman who vanquished her foes and won the adoration of millions.
 
Student 1: What was her name?
 
Student 2: Why is she here?
 
Student 3: I want to see her!
 
Doctor: Her name is not important, not anymore.
 
 
Student 2: But surely we would have heard of her if she was so special?
 
Doctor: You’d think that. But you see, the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long. This woman was special, but very quickly was given a harsh dose of reality. Take a look.
 
 
Natalie: Tell me I’m pretty. Tell me I’m worth it.
 
Doctor: All we can seem to get out of this woman is that she once protected beauty itself, that she was an undefeated champion of some description, until the wolves came.
 
Student 3: The wolves?
 
Doctor: We’re not sure if she’s being literal or figurative. The general prognosis is that the wolves are a manifestation of her own fleeting grip on reality. These “wolves”, whatever they are, caused her downfall, they led to her being where we see her right now.
 
 
Natalie: Doctor…you brought my fans?
 
Doctor: Yes, TyAnna! We did! Look at them! All here to see you!
 
 
Doctor: Sometimes, it’s best to keep the lie alive in the hope that the patient will be able to break the grip that it has on them.
 
Student 1: TyAnna…why do I recognise that name?
 
Doctor: Many years ago, she was a champion. Combatants the world over wanted their pound of flesh. You see, TyAnna was the best. Nobody had beat her, until something happened. Details are sketchy as TyAnna set out to scrub any record of that time period from the history books. Our only assumption is that she lost for the first time and wasn’t able to handle it. We believe that these “Wolves” of which she speaks caused this. But we can’t get her to open up any more than that.
 
 
Doctor: Well, that’s all the time we have for today, students. I hope you’ve all learned something valuable here. I have no doubt we’ll be learning more about TyAnna in the future…if she has one.
 
 
Natalie: I’m pretty. I’m beautiful. That is something I will always have. That is what I will be remembered for. They say beauty fades, but I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. If that’s true, then what else do I have?
 
 
Natalie: Yes…Wolvesden…that’s where it started. I cannot tell them what happened, they must never know. They think I’m insane, but I can remember it as clear as day. September 23^rd, 2018, it seems like a lifetime ago. I was the top dog. I was the one to beat. But then it all came tumbling down, didn’t it? YOU STUPID BITCH! WE HAD A PLAN! TURN THE WOLVES AGAINST ONE ANOTHER! DIVIDE AND CONQUER! WHY DIDN’T YOU STICK TO THE FUCKING PLAN?!
 
 
Natalie: That’s the only thing I can’t remember…who was it? Who took it away from me? All I can remember is the beating. Cage…the general. She was fierce. I didn’t want to admit it at the time but…she scared me. She masterminded the whole operation. She didn’t care who was on top as long as it wasn’t me. That was how she won. I was selfish, she was smart. My ego, it got in the way. I let her get inside my head. She mocked me, made me question my sense of self. It was too much. I thought I could handle her power but it was too much.
 
 
Natalie: Yes…the forgotten warrior, the woman who I thought was my key to victory. Why did I believe that she was a lost cause? That she was an easy task? I never accounted for the monsters that the wolves could produce. She beat me like a pathetic dog. I can still feel the pain now as it shoots all up and down my body. It keeps me awake at night…I can’t bear it sometimes. My neck, my arms, my legs, all of me crying out as it flashes back to what she was capable of. Nobody should have underestimated her brutality…especially me.
 
 
Natalie: My prize, my everything. That title was what I wanted more than anything in the world. I had everyone behind me, they wanted me to end the reign of the one they called Roxy. And I did it, and they loved me. But it was over before it even started. Why was I so blind? Why couldn’t I see that I’d bitten off oh so much more than I could chew? I challenged the pack and was of course ravaged. What chance did I stand? It seemed like such a great idea at the time.
 
 
Natalie: Yes…yes, I was undefeated. That was my legacy. That was all anyone cared about, including myself. As long as I was undefeated, I was untouchable. Nobody could disrespect an unbeatable woman. But I was barely a person. What did I stand for? The superficial, the meaningless. Why didn’t I realise that being undefeated was a temporary boast? Was I so naïve as to believe that the good times would last forever? Was I so arrogant to think that I could face two women at the same time and walk away with my hands held high? Apparently so.
 
 
Natalie: I loved this dress. I remember wearing it one night with…no…no. I can’t have forgotten him! He taught me everything! Who was he?! Why can’t I remember the name?! Why didn’t I listen to him? Why did I let his words fall on deaf ears? He just wanted to help me and I just bickered with him like a child. I loved this dress so much that I planned on wearing it again for my victory celebration. But when I lost…I never saw him again. Some tell me he went home, that he’s buried in an unmarked grave, forgotten. I don’t want to believe that, but part of me does. I shunned him when he held the key to my success. He was a wise man who I pushed aside. I didn’t even let him accompany me the first time I fought the wolves with…oh what was her name?
 
Why can’t I remember any of this? We went in there and nobody thought we could lose. But I let it happen. That was where it all started, the incubus of all of this. I let my partner down, I let the world down. The wolves reigned supreme and now I’m here…alone and forgotten. But beauty will not forget me, it can’t. Because without my title, my streak…my friends, it’s…it’s all I have left.
 
 
Natalie: Tell me I’m pretty.
 

[Diantha is sitting alone in the otherwise empty barracks where she is preparing herself for the match with Natalie and TyAnna. While Natalie has continued with her training, Diantha has asked for time to train alone to prepare herself. It is a title match after all, something that the Forgotten Senshi was once in fear of never having an opportunity to have. While she is watching film of their tag team match, she descends further and further into madness, absolutely elated with her victory over Azumi, giggling as she sees all the carnage that she and her mentor left in their wake. A single finger traces along the screen of her laptop over the images of Azumi and TyAnna.]


That....was a main event match that I was involved in. And I didn't just win, I dominated. WE dominated. Natalie's training, her motivating me, it's intoxicating. Never have I felt a slap to the face delivered with such love, such care. It was an euphoric feeling, almost orgasmic. Then to hear the head of Azumi Goto bouncing off the canvas as she was the first to feel the wrath of Galactica.

It was glorious.

How do you feel now, Mother? You disowned me! You told me that I would never amount to anything. You told me that I was not a worthy wrestler, someone who could carry on the family name. And look at you, Brother! A weak shell of a man, useless. Waddling around in your own self pity. I have seen you since we last spoke....and you are even more pitiful than I thought. You could never stand alone. Not here. Not there. Not anywhere. What a waste of my time it was when I stuck out a hand to you asking for help!

When I had nothing, the Wolvesden has given me everything. Natalie has given me everything.

They all think that I am insane, that I am weak-minded and just a follower. That is false. I came to the wolves when they needed a new hunter. They saw the diamond underneath all the coal of mediocrity, shame, passiveness, worry. They knew what pressure had to be exerted on me to make me shine. THEY and only THEY have given me a home, a place, an identity. They have stood with me more in just a few weeks than my own family has for years.

This was all a choice.

My choice.

Vindication is coming. And what an appropriately named event. Natalie and I will vindicate everything we believe in by completely destroying TyAnna Jupiter. As Student and Teacher, we are invincible. We are one. Our style in the ring may not be completely the same yet, but I have intergrated enough of her teachings to be a threat to anyone I come across. The poor girls who were supposed to have a match on Odyssey found that out for themselves as Natalie and I destroyed them. Why?
Because we could. Because we wanted to.

That is why WE will take the championship from you, Jupiter. You are very talented, far more talented than I could have ever have hoped to be at your age. I have had modest success in my career abroad, but I've never held a World Championship. And here you are, not even into your mid-twenties and holding one! You are a prodigy and I would be a liar if I wasn't completely jealous of it. However, even though you have talent that's greater than my own, we have advantages in this match that you can't even counter:

You have only seen a limited amount of what I am capable of. It was like joining the Wolvesden unlocked a whole different part of my psyche. Moves that I never thought I would use, out of regard for the safety of myself or others around me, they are all in my mind now. I don't care about anyone's well-being, not even my own.

Perhaps hers....but she's the only one.

You are outnumbered. It's simple enough. There are two of us, and only one of you. Before you can arrogantly proclaim that you can beat us both, just understand that even with someone as regarded as highly as Azumi Goto is as your partner, you lost. Think about that. In a match that had rules, regulations, and a level playing field. You weren't able to beat us.

Now...now my beautiful young star...you have to face the two of us. Alone. No rules. Only one of us attaining victory is enough for the carnage to end. Add to these the fact that neither of us cares who gets the glory as long as it isn't you. You're wrestling a handicap match against two of the most dangerous women in the world...who would sacrifice anything for each other like any mother or daughter would for the one they love.

People believe that I'm insane, but I'm far from it.

But I don't hate you! Please understand that, Miss Jupiter. I don't even dislike you. Saying I hate you would be like saying that a lioness hates a warthog or wildebeest. There is no ill will involved. You are just prey, meat that I have been sent to hunt for by the Wolvesden. Through your blood, your tears, your gold, my brothers and sisters and adopted mother of sorts will be satisfied. That is why they have sent me, you understand? Even though I'm no longer a member of a pride of lions, the wolves know that I'm not afraid to hunt...

Natalie knows how I feel about her. She saved me from complete obscurity. Because of her, the rest of the world no longer laughs when my name is mentioned. People tremble in fear of it. They know that I have the power to shake their very world to its core, to submerge them deep in their own pain and anguish, and to unleash the wrath of an entire GALAXY if I have to. I would lay my very life on the line for her if that's what she desires. That's the extent of my debt to her, my loyalty to my new family.

One way or another, their faith in me shall be rewarded. And the Omega Wrestling Alliance will watch as we slowly take control of everything once again, making Odyssey Natalie and I's personal hunting ground.

[Diantha stares at the screen almost in a trance as TyAnna is shown once again in a replay of their match. Her fingertip traces over the image again, paying special attention to the belt on her waist as she enters the ring.]

It's so beautiful. I want it so badly...But for her sake, I'd wait an eternity to have it. Just as long as Jupiter falls.

[Diantha smiles before closing the laptop, singing softly to herself as she grabs her training gloves, which are already worn and bloodied from her relentless time training.]