“What a wonderful couple of weeks this has been.”
 
“After months upon months, of our group having to deal with constant doubting and questions by the people who believed that we wouldn’t be able to finally stake our claim on Odyssey. We’ve finally taken the most crucial step in our goal of cleansing this brand of the filth that continues to pollute it. Lady Eris has finally claimed the OWA Women’s World Championship for The Void, by prying it from the grasp of Diantha Rosso and placing it in our rightful hands. Now, it’s time for us to follow in her footsteps and continue to spread The Void’s growing influence on Odyssey. By taking the OWA Goddesses Championship from Alyssa Grace, I will do exactly that. Alyssa is a woman who possesses an incredible amount of potential, she’s risen through the ranks quicker than just about anybody who’s ever competed on this brand. As a result, there was a point where I considered her as a worthy candidate for being added to The Void’s ranks. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be, as she’s ultimately become an obstacle in our path of expanding our influence and power. Now, I feel as though I’m given no other option but to personally deal with her. This is regrettable, as I don’t feel as though she’s quite as “corrupted” as many of the other women on this brand happen to be, but… there’s nothing more that I can do. Lady Eris wants me to take her championship and that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”
 
“In order to reach that point, however, I have to deal with somebody else who stands in my path. Azurine Vebbins, a new-comer to OWA who already demonstrates an astonishing amount of ignorance and foolishness. I feel as though I would be angered by her insistence on disrespecting me, if I could even comprehend what she was trying to say. Just because you’re able to name-off a couple of my moves doesn’t exactly prove anything, it merely proves that you’re familiar with my particular move-set. Are you trying to mock their names or something? I mean, how petty can a person be?”
 
“Anyways, you seem to fail to understand that I possess a significant advantage over you in every conceivable way. You’re nothing more than a small bump in the road, a brief detour, a minor threat compared to who I’m currently planning to dethrone for her championship. I doubt that you’ve ever stepped into the ring with a competitor like me, and you’ll soon discover that. I will put an end to the people who question my legitimacy and capability of challenging Alyssa. I will arrive on Atlantis, and plant my boot across your throat, as you lay there… wriggling and begging me to release you from my grasp. You mock me for my size, but fail to realize that my size will be the exact reason that you’re going to be laying in the middle of the ring, battered and bruised.”
 
“I will make an example out of you, by pummeling you into submission.”
 
“I plan to show Alyssa what she can expect from me, when we finally step into the ring.”
 
“SHE IS COMING...” 
 
“THE DARKNESS WILL CONSUME YOUR SOUL.”

After her return last week and loss Karina wasn't feeling particularly good about herself but she wasn't going to let that show on her face or her body language. She was ready to fight this week and fight she was going to do.

"Well last week didn't quite go to plan, but heck could of been worse I wasn't actually the one pinned last week, so I shouldn't feel to bad or salty about it. It definitely could of gone a lot worse than it did for me, but we move on pick ourselves up and move into this match with a fresh mindset. It appears this company loves to throw me into matches with this Rebecca Brookes girl or whatever the heck her name is...but ya know it's okay I don't mind slapping that bitch around again, not a problem at all. As a matter of fact I am rather looking forward to it. I have gone away and studied her there's nothing that she can now do that I won't have an answer for...I am ready to take this bitch down, rack up another loss for her and brush her to the side as I climb the ladder to success here in OWA...this bitch had one lucky win a few weeks go sadly Becca babe your winning ways are over. She probably feel like crap after losing last week, I can't wait to see the look on her face or the way she reacts once she loses once again, it's going to be priceless."

"But enough about little miss boo hoo I lost, let's talk about my team the team that will win because we are superior, Keelan is someone I have heard of actually his been a staple of this business for many a year now and to be teaming with him quite frankly is rather an honour, I am glad his in my corner for this match his got what it takes to steer my...this team into the right direction..with Keelan on my side... Noah and J.D do not stand a chance it's as simple as that...also having my back in this match is Harman a former champion here in OWA...that clearly means his talented... clearly someone who can roll in my circle of people... because I don't hang around with losers and his obviously a winner and that a girl like me can get with...with my beauty, talent and overall greatness, combined with Keelan's experience along with Harman's championship tier background the team we are up against simply do not stand a chance..."

"So I have spoken about Rebecca but I haven't spoken about Noah Or J.D, let's start with the very girly looking J.D, for one I am actually jealous of your hair I wish my locks looked half as good as yours do, but this business isn't about hair it's about wrestling and talent...things that you clearly lack an understanding of, you may have a great body but when it comes down to it...well J.D your just a pretty boy with no talent in wrestling, you may have talent for taking care of your hair but sadly that's about it, Keelan and Harman are going to run right through you plain and simple I have no doubts about it."


Karina takes a small pause

"Now we come to Noah again his yet another pretty boy with no talent...plain and simple your not even boyfriend material boo, you see to be boyfriend material you gotta actually be ya know good at what you do to bring in the coin, which sadly you are not... again I don't see my boys having any sort of issues taking you out, I will take care of Becca, Keelan and Harman will take out the trash...that being you Noah and your long haired no talent pretty boy friend J.D..."


"You see Becca, Noah, J.D. Keelan, Harman and I are ready to kick your asses back into obscurity, which in fairness to all three of you is where you belong...so Keelan, Harman we again lace, pace up and face up to these three low lives who call themselves wrestlers..but the only thing they'll be doing is losing with a simple 1...2..3 if they can even count that high...so Becca J.D, Noah we shall be seeing you all soon, but just a heads up be prepared to ya know go home crying to your mother's after the best trio won and take the spotlight away from you..."


Karina then chuckled and walked off as the scene fades to black.

 
“Why do I have to be in another tag team match?”
 
“Why?”
 
“I don’t know why, but every single time that I’m in one of these fucking matches, something or somebody just ends up screwing me over in the end.” 
 
“Usually due to being hit in the dick by some fuck-head who’s able to take advantage of an idiotic referee who “happens” to not be looking at what’s going on inside the ring. I mean, seriously, it’s already happened to me on 2 different occasions. Do I really have to start wearing a cup whenever I’m in one of these matches? It’s fucking ridiculous. My groin shouldn’t have to continually suffer due to the sheer incompetence and inattentiveness of these individuals.”
 
“On top of that, they’ve got me tag-teaming with Gareth of all fucking people? Fuck me. I mean, sure, I don’t have an irrational hatred of him anymore or something like that, but… he sucks. He’s just not the same competitor anymore, everybody in this company knows that. Yeah, he recently got a win against Nate Cage, but what the fuck does that actually mean to me? Cage is the definition of somebody whose current notoriety doesn’t manage to correlate in any way with his past success. The only reason that anybody’s still concerned with him is that he’s a total asshole who doesn’t know when to fuck off, something that I’m certain that absolutely everyone in this company can agree on. At best, he’s only ever managed to be a nuisance to the people who actually did accomplish something in OWA. Now, all of a sudden, Gareth expects everybody to start taking him seriously again? Give me a fucking break. I don’t think he’s won a single match of any importance for most of 2020, and now… just because he managed to beat Cage, he probably thinks that’s going to make those losses “magically” disappear. Yeah, not by a long shot. It’s going to take a lot more than that for him to start rehabilitating his reputation. Maybe, if he’s finally able to pull his own weight during this match, I’ll stop viewing him as nothing more than a flash in the pan and I’ll actually start believing that “Legit Dangerous” is actually a well-deserved nickname again. Until then, I’m not going to bother getting my hopes up. Just know that if we lose, it’s definitely going to be his fault.”
 
“Anyways, let’s talk about my opponents, shall we? Let’s start with that guy who thought of naming himself after his character on World of Warcraft, you know, just because he thinks that it sounds cool. Unfortunately, not only does it not “sound cool” by any stretch of the imagination, but instead… sounds absolutely hilarious. Seriously, I hope that you’ll eventually reveal to the whole world that your last name is Nytethorne or some shit, because it would really enhance that whole “edgy” vibe that you’ve currently got going on. I mean, I know that’s probably not your actual name, unless your parents really hated you or something, but come on. Maybe, it’s not just a “vibe” that you’re trying to give off, and you really are a sick motherfucker… who knows? What I do know is this, I start snickering like a goddamn 12-year old who just spelled “BOOBIES” on his calculator for the first time, whenever I’m thinking about your goofy-ass name. Silly fucking name or not… I’ll give you this much, you hit the nail on the fucking head when you were talking about Gareth. Although, I feel as though I have to correct you about something. There’s absolutely no fucking situation where I’m willing to consider Gareth as a “friend” of mine. I don’t give a fuck if we’re tag-teaming or not, at best, this will be nothing more than an attempt by me to try and tolerate him. Just because I don’t go into an absolutely seething rage whenever I look at him anymore, doesn’t mean that we’re buddies or that we’re friendly to each other. He’s fucked me over too many times for me to completely put aside my personal dislike of him. At best, I will refrain from actively trying to beat the shit out of him, as long as he isn’t actively fucking this match up for me.”
 
“As far as you’re concerned, yeah, I know that you’ve got some experience under your belt. That’s nice and all, but… you know, that doesn’t really mean anything to me. Experience doesn’t mean a fucking thing when you’re stepping into the ring with somebody who’s better than you in every single way. You think that sounds pretty presumptuous of me? Nah, I’m just being honest with you. I mean, goddamn, the higher-ups basically threw you into the deep-end of a swimming pool before teaching you how to even swim, huh? I guess it’s because you’re supposed to be a “big-name signing” for Olympus or some shit, but I’d never even heard of your ass until Hardcore Havoc. I mean, from what I’ve already seen, I wouldn’t exactly consider myself as being impressed. Then again, who knows, maybe you’re actually one of the best technical wrestlers in the entire fucking world and I’ve just been living under a rock this whole time… but I doubt that. Yeah, I have this feeling that what I’m currently seeing is exactly what I’m going to get, and what I’m getting is nothing new to me. I’ve already heard this shit before, at least a few times. About how you’re going to carve a path of destruction through Olympus, and how you’re going to paint it red, and how you’re going to write in my blood, and so on, and so on, and so on…”
 
“Goddamn, you just reminded me as to why I stopped talking like that in the first place, that shit starts to get really fucking old when you’re always on the receiving end of it.”
 
“Whatever, that’s not the point, the point is that you don’t impress me with all of your fucking talk. You don’t know how many guys I’ve faced who claimed that they were going to start “fucking shit up” and then, poof, they’re gone by the end of the month. It’s completely meaningless. Besides, am I really supposed to be intimidated by some dude who’s only doing this because he happens to be a decent fighter, and isn’t good at anything else… other than getting drunk and having a copious amount of STDs on his dick?”
 
“No.”
 
“The answer is no.”
 
“Oh, and for the love of God, stop talking about your sexual misadventures, you fucking weirdo. Nobody wants to hear that shit.”
 
“As for you, Derelict?”
 
“Where the fuck do I even start?”
 
“I don’t know where this sudden interest in me came from, and I don’t really give a shit. I know that you’re trying to fuck with me and get into my head, don’t get me wrong, I definitely commend the effort, but I don’t plan on taking the bait. There’s only one thing that’s occupying my mind, and that's getting my hands on you. When you attacked me at Hardcore Havoc, you fired the first shot in what’s turned into a small-scale war between us, and eventually… I plan on being the one who will fire the last shot. I don’t know when it will happen, and I don’t really care when it happens. I just want you to know that I’m going to be the one to finally put you down. I’m going to put you down, and put an end to this ambition of yours… to try and claim this championship from me. You seem to be so confident in your ability to take the Omega Heavyweight Championship from me, aren’t you? Yet, I fail to think of any reason as to where this confidence could even possibly come from. Remind me, what exactly have you done in the last… I don’t know, 5-6 months? What exactly makes you think that you’re going to even touch this goddamn championship for as long as I still have it, you stupid motherfucker?”
 
“I don’t deny that it’s an uncomfortable reality for me, the idea that I’m going to eventually lose this championship, but… it’s  an inevitability. You were correct when you said that. Unfortunately, you won’t be the person that I’m losing this championship to. That’s not because I doubt your ability or skill as a wrestler, even if you’re limited in both, but because you don’t have what it takes… to pry this championship out of my grasp. You think that attacking me during and after my matches, does anything to strengthen your claim to this title? Do you think that proves anything? It proves absolutely nothing. All this talk about suitors, betrotheds, old flames, and sugar mommas… for God’s sake, will you stop fucking around? I don’t have the patience to hear this bullshit. You’ve spent your whole tenure in OWA talking about how you’re not interested in winning championships here, and yet, I’ve noticed that you tend to compete for a lot of championships. So now, the truth finally comes out, you actually do care about winning championships. You finally dropped any pretenses that you’re actually different from anybody else, although you still claim to be above the “financial trappings” of this industry. Give me a fucking break, you want this championship so badly because you want my spot. You want the money, the prestige, the recognition, and the fame. You’ve spent your whole life, wallowing in the muck and fighting to just survive. You’d be a fucking fool to not want something greater, something better than that. Then again, maybe I’m completely wrong, it’s possible that you’re totally fine with being stuck where you are. Having to rob people, always look for scraps of food, and live on the streets. You know, now that I’m really thinking about it, that sounds positively delightful. I wish I could live a life like that, free of societal pressure, and not having to worry about defending this championship anymore.” 
 
“I wish I could be a nobody.”
 
“Fuck, just saying that makes my skin crawl...”
 
“You seem to believe that my legacy will vanish, when I lose this championship, when that couldn’t possibly be any further from the truth. You see, I’ve already cemented my fucking legacy here. I don’t need to keep wrestling, I don’t need to keep putting my body on the line, I don’t need to keep worrying about my next challenger. I could retire now, and I’d already be set for life. I could finally leave this shit behind and start raising a family, but I won’t do that, because I live for this industry. I live to fight. I live to prove myself inside of a wrestling ring. I live to become the best. I’m going to continue growing my legacy here, until nobody is able to forget who I am.”
 
“I’m ready and willing to die in the pursuit of creating a legacy for myself.”
 
“Alas, you won’t be the one to kill me, Derelict. You won’t be the one to put me in my grave and lay me to rest. No, I’ll be alive and well by the time that we’ve finally put an end to this conflict between us, Derelict. You won’t be the one to take this championship from me. You won’t be the one to take my spot here. You won’t be the one that will bury me in the past and finally put an end to my story. As far as I’m concerned, there’s not a single fucking person in this entire company who’s even capable of doing that. Don’t worry though, I’ll be sure to give you an opportunity to try...”
 
“...and leave nothing but a single rose upon your grave, after you fail.”
 
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to remember the exact spot.”
 
“I’ll always know where to find you.”

The scene begins at the Ashes of the Wake hideout as Maverick, Vincent, and Jacob Knight are seen hanging around, minding their own business as Sabertooth, in casual clothing, is seen smoking a cigar while looking out of the window. The storm is brewing on the outside, which puts a smile on the face of Sabertooth. 


“Imma head out and get some grub. Y’all want something?” Maverick questioned the group as Vincent shakes his head and Jacob gets up to follow through.

“I’ll come with.” Said Jacob as Sabertooth nods in approval as the others head out while Vincent has his legs over the table as he closes his eyes to sleep.


Sabertooth looks at the camera and acknowledges it as if it were an actual person. He grabs the camera by the frame and brings it to his eye level.

“Isn’t it great to be around people you can actually relate with? I am sure having real friends beats the novelty of having some imaginary talking cats. Though, they sure are very fascinating. Just like the man behind the cats. I am talking about the one and only…. John Doe. They’ve got Myers! Or as we call it, they’ve got a JD Damon look alike from a couple of months ago! Jokes aside, I do really appreciate the work of John Doe. In fact, I remember going against the Phantom Troupe more than a year ago at Revelations when Mr. Doe had assembled a group of capable wrestlers to do his bidding. Sure, it didn’t go exactly as planned, but John Doe is still the head of the Spider. The man that brought them all together. And his latest pet project happens to be Baba Yaga. The OWA Openweight Champion! That’s truly impressive seeing how Yaga hasn’t even been in this company for a year. Let’s talk about that actually… I may have missed his debut but I’ve heard a lot from HIM. He told me that you and Jeff were the reason he was eliminated from the Clash of the Titans after being in it for the longest time ever. But what a fantastic debut that is! Coming down to the top four at one of the biggest and most grueling matches of the year. Sure, it doesn’t beat starting the match at Number one and lasting for 72 minutes… But, that’s a close second I’d say. Baba Yaga didn’t stop there!! He went on to beat Kevin Maverick at Final Destination to become Openweight Champion. Sure, Havoc went on to win the Ascension to the Heaven’s Briefcase which guarantees him a future world title shot, anytime or anywhere… But hey! It’s a start! Baba Yaga has really lived up to the hype, hasn’t he? With an endorsement from the great John Doe, he has to be something great! He’s gone on to beat-- Morrighan? The Banshee surely took a page or twenty out of our book but hey-- if it works, why change it! Who else... Fiora? The man with the shortest TV Championship reign in history? Or is it Harman Ardelean-- A man of wasted potential who is screwing around under the tutelage of Nico Borg? It sure is an impressive lineup! See, even Vincent agrees!” Said Sabertooth, pointing at Vincent who is clearly fast asleep. 

“But that’s not ALL that Havoc told me. He talked about your unpredictability in the ring-- He talked about your eccentricity. That sure can be handy! But there’s one thing that HE says that you clearly lack and that is a sense of direction. I am sure a revolutionary like John Doe has more than just winning mediocre matches on the agenda. It’s clear that Yaga is out there, trying to impress him, but if I were Doe… There’s not much to be seen here. What are you going to offer him? Even with all the buzz surrounding Baba Yaga’s name, Havoc fails to see the hype. I tried to convince him otherwise but he JUST wouldn’t listen! I am sure Mr. Doe would appreciate Havoc but it is interesting to see that Yaga chose to make a mockery out of him. I’ve tried to calm Havoc down but he seems pissed! Why would you do that, Baba?! I am trying to be on your side here. I am trying to let him be level headed, walking into Atlantis so that he can talk some business with Mr. Doe. Oh my! I feel like Karen, wanting to see the manager when I talk about Yaga and Doe in that context. I won’t lie to you Yaga, I told Havoc that you do have the ‘IT’ factor. No! Not a clown that likes the taste of kids, despite what Havoc’s opinions are about you. You certainly have the charm needed to be somebody in this business and I can see you getting to the very top, some day! With a little bit of fine-tuning and a LOT of listening on your part to Mr. Doe, I am sure he can guide you to be the second coming of John Doe’s will! But in your tomfoolery, you forget to see the bigger picture! The Ashes of the Wake are not here to show how brutal or devastating we could be-- We are here to bring about a change in this company. Have you seen the state of it? RD3 somehow finds himself at a position of power while being an active competitor. Scott Oasis and Nasir Moore probably tug each other off while they rake in the millions that WE earn for them through our hard work. And then we see people like Arata Asakura get SHOT straight to the top because of their marketability or just the undying nepotism that this industry entertains. Instead of fighting on all these causes, you chose to don some face paint and taunt Havoc? Instead of using your voice for something of value, you chose to fool around and make a mockery out of the things that we do here? That doesn’t sit right, with Havoc. WE expected better from the teachings of the great John Doe… But even he might be too washed up to think rationally these days. Heeeeey. Don’t look at me like that! It was Havoc’s words, not mine! Actually-- why don’t you hear that from the horse’s mouth!” Exclaimed Sabertooth, as his expressions slowly change, as he stares into the camera with evil intentions in his mind. Suddenly, he finds himself standing out in the storm donned in his iconic face paint-- but interestingly, Havoc appears to not be wet by the rain pouring down on him. In fact, his face paint hasn’t smudged a bit. Almost as if, Havoc is merely a projection.

“Just like the eye of the storm, it may seem calm in here *pointing at his head* but there’s chaos brewing around it. The Ashes of the Wake are only getting stronger. With an eye to the future, I chose to put my coins into the bag of new talent like Maverick, Jacob Knight, and The Vincent. They were being wronged by this company, as it selectively chose to ignore their talents and hand them to the sharks to be ripped apart. Yet, having faced some of the best this company has to offer, they still stand. And they CHOSE to stand with me. John Doe… Oh, that’s one interesting fella. I could go on and on about how John Doe is somebody I relate with but seeing his work of late with Baba Yaga-- it seems like he has lost his touch. It seems like he has forgotten his priorities… We could all use some chaos in our lives. Especially in uncertain times like these. Just carrying around a championship belt does not make you a REAL champion. You may be a household name already-- BUT YOU WERE GIVEN THOSE OPPORTUNITIES because of the man you are associated with. It doesn’t matter how talented you are, there will always be an asterisk next to your name because of the man who OWNS you. John Doe may have been the cat, but you’re the pet in that dynamic. One begging to find his own identity in such an evolving landscape. But worry not! The future may look bleak right now but it is due a change! A change that WE will bring. The Ashes of the Wake is not a cult-- It’s an ideal… It’s a feeling of vengeance after YEARS of mistreatment and injustice. Yaga, you’re just a pawn for John… But you could be a LOT more if you just opened your eyes-- Not in a racist way. But the gates to the Ashes of the Wake are open to anybody that has been wronged. I’d welcome ANYBODY with open arms as long as they pay the price for all the sins they committed! They must atone for them… Just like you will, Yaga.” A devious smirk appears over his face.

“You can joke around-- laugh to your heart’s content. But at Atlantis… I will be the one to get the last laugh. Look around you, Yaga! This is the new beginning. Welcome to the future of OWA. We are the Harbingers of reality. We are the CHANGE that I speak of. WE are the Ashes of the Wake! And all you have to do to be a part of it is reach out and grab my hand. And I promise you…. YOU WILL NEVER WALK ALONE!” Exclaimed Havoc as he bursts into maniacal laughter. Lightning strikes right in front of him and in that moment’s notice, Havoc has vanished into thin air. But his demonic voice echoes in the background as the scene comes to an end.

Can Saturday hurry up and get here?

Dulce responded to my earlier comments and it was as unwarrantly optimistic and airheaded as ever.  In all honesty, I’ve quickly grown tired with going back and forth with her verbally when I’d much rather show than tell. I spent two whole weeks leading up to Hardcore Havoc trying to pound cold, hard facts into her thick skull and it didn’t get through to her until the day of when she got hit with that rude awakening. All of the arguments in the world were unable to convince her of anything besides sure victory, but she gulped down those hard to swallow pills when her broken down body got pushed out the chamber and the gates closed to lock her out of the championship picture. That night and the build to the show as a whole let me know how futile any debate with her can be.

Why justify myself to her when everyone will SEE what I’m saying decisively in that squared circle? Why even entertain her when she’s facing me in a glorified formality of a semi-final bout? I KNOW she’s taking that pin come Odyssey. I know that her streak of pay-per-view paydays is getting broken. I can GUARANTEE you that as far as her peak as a main event competitor, it has been HIT.  She might still be “good” now, but she is WASHED compared to the prime run she was on back in the spring. This is all stuff I feel comfortable in saying because I can back it all up with no issue. I ain’t scared of putting my reputation on the line for my claims because I’m aware of the type of woman I am and the performance I’ll deliver against her. I telegraphed her downfall like I’d already seen the movie before, yet I’m out of my mind for stating I have her number in the Athena’s Cup? Please. I’ve got her lined up like an easy mark this Saturday and no matter what she says that won’t change. But one last time, out of respect for her “trailblazing” and efforts with the title….I’ll try and sway her to see the reality of what’s going on. I’ll pick apart her false beliefs for the thirtieth time just so there’s no room to say I didn’t give her a fair warning heading into her ass beating.

Dulce, what you like to call “focusing on the positives” in the aftermath of your disappointing title loss, I’d like to CORRECTLY call bold-faced lying and poorly done excuse making. Your selective reflection on what transpired is pretty much a defense mechanism to protect your already badly wounded ego. You say you don’t need protecting, yet you dance around your defeat and dress it up in fifty different ways to make it come off better than what actually happened. What ACTUALLY happened is the world champion that was seen as the standard bearer for our brand, the girl who had months of anticipation going into her reign and had everything from fans to I’m sure the company execs on her side….entered the match and got put on her back in the first fifteen minutes. After a good month of grandstanding and making promises that you’d come out on top you didn’t even come CLOSE to what you built yourself up to accomplish. Your title win was touted as a MOMENT in pro wrestling history, it was something you clawed for a good 18 months to get to….and it was dashed away in the time it takes for someone to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee. 

You fizzled out in the match like a CHUMP. I said that you crumbled in that match ‘cause you did! “Anyone could have gone out in the place that I did”...but that’s not the case, now isn’t it! You got the short end of the stick for a reason. It’s not like we were drawing straws or flipping coins, you bit the bullet because you got caught lacking and pinned. No luck; it was only coming down to you choking. If you’re so secure in yourself then why are you over here talking hypotheticals? I’m talking about what’s cut and dry written into the record books! You took the boot early on between the original five! Yes, everyone in the match had talent, I’m not going to pretend otherwise, but the match certainly exposed that even at the highest level there are people who are a peg above their peers no matter if they’re considered to be that top one percent in the sport. You don’t get a pat in the back for being in the running, it’s all about winning the race, or at the very least being in the conversation. First place gets the gold, second place gets the silver, third gets the bronze, but you don’t even hear about anything after that because those ranks are not worth giving credit to. Anyone can be at the top half if you fudge the circumstances enough, but if the chips fall as they should without any weird abnormalities or outside interference, then a natural order appears. The order that puts me ahead of you and on pace to being OWA Women’s Champion.

I’m giving you a tough time, I know, though I acknowledge you still have it in you to bounce back. How far your rebound from the title loss takes you is up in the air. You beat Liara Lawson, which is a damn good shout. That girl has hit the scene and done great for himself in such a short time, so her being a problem in this tournament wouldn’t have been too crazy to consider. Does the momentum of your comeback push you through me though? Not a chance. This match will be huge for me, like you said. You and I both have a lot riding on this, but what “a lot” means to you and me is very different. You lose this match and it takes you away from Boiling Point. You get ripped away from having a big match on a major event for the first time in a long time. A tradition thrown away, an expectation contradicted. Being left out of the biggest event of the summer would be like a demotion to you. Woe is me, how sad. You still will be Dulce Torres at the end of the day. All of the investment that’s been placed into you, even if you don’t give the same returns that you used to you still will be kept afloat in the women’s division. You don’t need to worry about drowning, your supporters wouldn’t allow it.

No matter how much dirt you’re made to eat with any losses you take or moments you go without being spotlighted, you’ll still be one of the names that get mentioned with Odyssey’s greats because of how your name is stitched into the fabric of the brand’s beginnings. People have become so accustomed to you as a triumphant figure, that girl who stood up for Odyssey and defeated nasty Natalie Cage’s tyranny, whatever decline you go through now will be a blip on the radar. You have an easy legacy you can coast off of for your career, one missed PPV isn’t going to hurt you. I am fighting to solidify myself, you’re fighting for what amounts to a grand monument being desecrated with graffiti. It’ll wash away; anything that gets done to it will be completely inconsequential. You beating me while I’m still “finding my footing” in the eyes of these ignorant idiots would be like taking a hammer and smashing my foundation before I even had the rest of my work completed. A loss for me doesn’t just put me down the card temporarily, it makes the fickle audiences confirm in their minds that’s the spot I deserve to be stuck at. Your reputation means a great deal to your livelihood, how you’re perceived is a stain on your LIFE. The quality of it, the comfortability opposition has in taking a strike against it, and the trust those around you have in seeing you obtain power. I want to be a powerful person here on Odyssey. I want to make a life for myself here as a don the same way I was back home. And that can’t happen with you in my way. You say a standard match and the chamber are two different stories….but they both represent a down and dirty struggle with high stakes. This ain’t no regular in ring affair and you know it. The ring is turning into a warzone this Saturday….and we saw how you handle that type of combat.

I’m getting to the finals, it ain’t even worth speaking out against it. There’s a fine line between confidence and delusion. You have a right to be confident. It’s good to have faith in yourself. You also have to be realistic. Wrestle to survive me, don’t wrestle to get a victory. All your bravado will get you is the privilege of running head first into a brick wall. Athena’s Cup is MY crowning. Blow off my statements as much as you please, but remember what that got you last time....You’re welcome for the incoming week off.

How will Liara react to her first defeat?
Odyssey #1

11 June 2020, 00:45
The roof of Liara's apartment complex, The Sunset Strip, California

Liara is in the hot-tub, enjoying the cool nights breeze. The sky above her is clear and black, with the moon shining and stars twinkling. She's wearing a black one piece bathing suit, and has a bottle of Bud in her right hand, and a vape in the left.

Liara -- Before I start, I just want to give a quick shout out to my new favourite commentator, Ashley Walker. Ashley, I'm a thirty-five year old grown-ass woman, but you just kept on calling me young. I ain't been called young since... well since I was young. So you're fucking aces, in my book.

Aaaanyway....

So there's a question that's probably playing on a lot of minds right around here right about now. How will Liara react to her first defeat? If you're watching this, then that's probably something you were curious about. Now on the face of it, that might seem like a pretty reasonable question. When you delve a little deeper though, it's not so much. Basically, the joke's on you 'cause it's not my first defeat. I've been beaten before. Beaten down, knocked out - thought I was in a match once and next thing I know I'm waking up in the hospital. You know what changed? Not a fucking thing. I forced Dulce Torres to bring her A game. I told her that she'd need it, and she sure as hell did need it. She is one, if not the best that Odyssey has to offer, and she had to dig down deep and pull out everything she had to beat me. So the next question is 'now what?' Has the ball stopped rolling? Has Liara Lawson stalled? Been found out? Hit a wall? Nope. Nope, nope, nope. You know what I'm gonna do with this loss? Ignore it. What's the point in wallowing? What's the point whining and complaining? Do I blame officials? Do I blame myself? Do I praise Dulce? I mean, I praised her anyway, but you know what I mean. No. Why? To what end? I dust myself down and we go again, baby. The Athena's Cup is in my rear view mirror and I ain't one for looking back. If I felt sorry for myself over every little bad thing that happened to me, I wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning. I've been through a hella lot worse in life than losing to Dulce Torres.

Liara takes a few seconds to star up into the stars, enjoying a rare moment of still in her life. She has a long draw of her vape, before slowly blowing the smoke out, and watching it float away.

Liara -- Maybe that was the OWAs plan, throw me in at the deep end and see if I sink or swim. Well, I can swim pretty fucking good, don't you think? And Dulce, you ain't seen the last of me, 'cause I'm going absolutely nowhere. I will win titles here. I will be a success. And sooner or later, sweetheart, I will even the score. Now though, now it's time to get myself back on track. Now it's time to get back to picking up those W's.

And, speaking of Dulce and her titles, this week I get a close up look at Alyssa Grace. The Goddesses Champion. People speak highly of you; I come in, do well, and all of a sudden I'm getting compared to the way you started here. Like a house on fire, by all accounts. Now, I get it, I lost last week, but you better believe that my house is still on fire...

Liara furrows her brow and slightly tilts her head - unsure about what she's just said.

Liara -- Wait, is that how that saying works? Whose house is on fire? Well, it doesn't really matter, 'cause someone's is, and I'm the reason. Here's the thing Alyssa, I'm good, and you're good. I don't give a fuck, you don't seem to give much of one. We got this. I'll be watching you though, when you're in the ring, and I'm on the apron. I'll be taking notes, I'll be looking at where you're good, and maybe where you're not so so good, because sooner or later - and you can ignore the later, but I'll be coming after that title that you hold so dear. But let's not worry about that, that's for the future. This week you want me to trust you. Generally speaking, I'm a benefit of the doubt sorta person - you ain't done nothing to me, so there's no problem here. As for trusting myself?

Liara smiles at the camera - a smile of confusion, rather than any sort of joy.

Liara -- Why would I not? I know how good I am. I know what I can do. There's not a single shred of doubt in my body when it comes to what I can do in that ring. You don't need to worry yourself about me not trusting myself. Quite frankly, I managed to team with The Void without issue - as in Eris AND Nyx - not one or the other, both. At the same time. So don't you be worrying yourself about me. And I'm glad that you feel motivated by me being here. Let's make no mistake, you said that don't don't feel threatened... well there's gonna come a time that you will. See, I'm not here to be a challenger, I'm here to be a champion. If that means you, then that means you. Just one more thing Alyssa, man you talk some deep ass shit.

"Reality is a reflection of our own intentions, biases, knacks and desires."

Shit dude, man you just want to have a few beers one time and just say you're gonna beat the shit out of someone. Try it, it's fun, and it works. Well, I say that... I mean it works for me at least. Anyway, moving on, 'cause this week we got ourselves up against an actual tag team, when we ourselves ain't one. Shit, they've got a name and everything, don't they? AK-47. Or to dust off a bit of my Spanish from my time in Mexico, Cuerno de Chivo. You didn't know I could do that, did you?

She winks at the camera, and takes a drink of her beer.

Liara -- Just imagine the embarrassment of Revy and Mizuko when they get beat by a team that was just thrown together. By a team that ain't never even said two words to each other before. On the other hand, it's also by a team that just straight up has more talent than them. So, when you look at it like that, all won't necessarily be lost for them, after we beat 'em. Now, luckily, I wasn't the only one from this match to lose on Odyssey. Wasn't the only one to say good-bye to the Athena's Cup. I could be wrong here, but shit Revy, wasn't that was your Odyssey debut? And now you're gonna lose again, and all of a sudden people don't give a fuck about Revy anymore. What was it that my new best friend Ashley Walker said?

Liara pretends to think for a second, but she knows exactly what Ashley said.

Liara -- "Revy is just lying in a lifeless mess on the canvas"

Shit. Not good, Revy, not good at all. And on Atlantis before that, you managed to flashbang yourself? Dude, are you all there? No offence or anything, but you seem like a fucking idiot to me, but hey, that's just one woman's opinion. Another one of my opinions is, what the fuck? Why are you a team? Alyssa and me, we don't even know each other and we get on better than the two of you. You think that once the bell rings that all of your issues will just float away? No, man, that's not how that works. Revy, you'll fuck up somewhere along the line, then Mizuko will get mad at you, and you'll fall apart. Not that I claim to be a fortune teller or anything, but that is your future.

Mizuko, you got issues my friend. Now, there's definitely a coffin in my future. Frankly, the way I go about my shit, I'm surprised I ain't needed one already. Black seems like a fitting choice for me too, but sweetheart, it won't be your Black Coffin. You don't have what it takes to stop me. Shit, you don't even have what it takes to stop Alyssa. Now, I don't care what you've done or what you do outside the ring, I really don't. But dammit girl, what sort of shitty ass 'hired gun' promotes themselves like that in front of a worldwide audience? Come on man, what the fuck? I'll be straight with you, you're coming into Odyssey to lose. You're gonna get beat. You don't give a shit about your partner, she's going to either fuck up or frustrate you, and you'll lose 'cause of it. Whatever you do, and wherever you do it, doesn't translate to the wrestling ring. It doesn't translate to beating me.

You two couldn't have picked worse opponents to debut your little team against on Odyssey, 'cause you've found yourself up against the hottest rising star in the company, alongside the Goddesses Champion. Dude, Alyssa and me? We're the toast of the town. You got nothing.

Liara stands up in the tub, the water drips from her as she walks across the the camera.

The picture briefly freezes on her black torso as she hits the stop button.

Cut to black.

(The initial opening scene begins a few days after the previous Atlantis, within the mansion home on the hills of Anaheim in California. The sun shines bright down onto the city itself as we begin to see the doors to the front balcony open, only to find ourselves with Rebecca Brookes as she takes a few steps out and admiring the view around her. Rebecca wears skin-tight ripped blue denim jeans and a white crop top with the OWA logo printed on the fabric. She takes one deep breath, inhaling the fresh air that surrounds her as she continues to look out at the city from a distance. Rebecca looks over her shoulder, noticing the camera recording her and gives off a little smile for it’s sudden appearance.)

“That's one win and one loss, we're even right now but the time for messing around is long gone. I can't slip up the same way I did at Atlantis. It's been the same thing since I got here, I've just been the laughing stock to the many that have faced me but where does that get me? It gets me on Atlantis all the time, I've yet to hit the big stages for a match! I know it's probably what's best for me, being new to the sport and still needing to get a full grip into it all and maybe what happened the last time around didn't prove that case right for me but I at least deserve the chance. I do deserve one, and I'm not the type of person to be all pushy and needy but this has now become my life. I live for this sport, I live for this feeling within me that's been driving me to continue for all this time! But I get it, you earn your place, as someone who used to be a professional in other combat sports... I should know easily how this goes. Maybe my emotions are getting the better of me, I'm doing everything Jason is telling me to do but I feel like I'm failing and embarrassing him at the same time. I need to think about what to do, I can't leave everyone disappointed anymore. This is my time, it should be my time, and I should make it my time. That's what Jason always told me after every training session, all for a bit of a boost to my confidence. But I didn't need a boost in my confidence, what I needed was some realization. A slap, or in this case - a headbutt, of reality that'll knock some sense into me. Gwen Harper gave me that, after being made out to be a smaller person on the inside. Never again will I allow it, never fucking again.”

(A slight grit in her teeth as she cusses to the camera.)

“Because my opponents are tough as nails, they're probably the biggest I've had so far and I don't mean that in the literal sense. You've got Keelan Callihan and Harman Ardelean... and Karina-Ann too, I guess. But on my team? Noah Quinn and JD Damon. I've got a strong squadron on my side, and if truth be told, I know that Keelan and others are going to bring their god damn best. For someone like Karina though, all she needs to do is to open that mouth of hers and she’ll be dropped faster than her departure back in November. Oh Karina, you’d think I wouldn’t mention that? You’re very poorly mistaken, sweetheart. You had one match before you left without a trace, and came back when you seemed fitting, you decided that after all that’s happened that you’ll come back and finally make a good showing… or are you going to repeat the same as before? Have one match and then leave, get released and then come back in about seven months because you felt like it? If being a role model is the look you’re going for then you’re doing it all wrong, maybe eye candy for the needy or the nerdy is more like it but I’m assuming that you’re not going to admit that. You’re probably the type of girl who thinks they’re the very best in the world without even proving it, and that’s most girls in the ring these days from what I’ve seen so you’re nothing new or nothing special, babe. If anything, you’re a walking copy and paste of every “heel” there is in the business. You’ve got one redeeming flaw and that’s never shutting the hell up. You told me you’re going to send me packing and never come back here to OWA but here I am, Karina. Where the hell are you? Running off because you didn’t get your way, is that it? You know what I did, Karina? I treated it like being knocked out in the octagon and I walked it off, I didn’t have some mourning period because I lost or cried because my head hurted a little, I’ve been in a whole lot worse positions than that. I have broken my nose a good few times, I’ve fractured my jaw before and still went on to continue the fight and win. If you had broken a nail, you would have cried all the way home and hope daddy’s wallet can pay for a whole new set of them.”

(Rebecca lets out a little giggle as she covers her mouth with her right hand but she regains her focus before delivering one more line onto Karina.)

“Tell me, Karina, am I wrong? Then again, if you kept up the same reputation you had before, I don’t think we’d even find out the answer to that for a very long time.”

(As if like a trait given to her by her boyfriend, Maverick, she has a slight devious little smirk on her face with another chuckle coming from under her breath.)

“Of course, if anyone on your team takes the same style as you, Karina. That would have to go to Keelan Callihan. The man that calls himself “a killer” or “The Killer”, if that’s what you’d like. I remember watching your match at Final Destination and then realising if this was how I was going to set my career for then you would have to be the last person I would want to face in the ring. Listen, Keelan, I respect you a lot as a wrestler. You’re great, amazing and talented in the ring. You’ve been on a roll since beating sticks in that Cell match, beating off everyone that’s been put in front of you, right now is like the peak of your OWA career here and it doesn’t seem to stop. You might not have walked out of that Hardcore Havoc Bar Room Brawl thing that happened as a winner, but you knew deep down you were better. You knew deep down you were better than anyone in that bar, and all for what, Keelan? What makes you a better man than what you know? Is it something we’ve yet to see from you? Because as far as I was made aware, 2020 didn’t seem to have been your year. You were choking up left right and center and became the edgelord man you are by jumping off Hell in a Cell before Final Destination and nearly killing yourself in the process. What happened to you, Keelan? Choked up a little and thought life wasn’t worth living for? Come on, Keelan, live a little and realise that because you’re on Atlantis, doesn’t mean you're a piece of shit. Well, you are but I don’t think you’re ready for that conversation. Best not to mention anything before you jump off somewhere high again.”

(Rebecca winks for the camera as she finishes that comment.)

“Though I’m fairly sure that when I said you’re at the peak of your career, I didn’t think it’ll be this low, Keelan. Has The Killer spoken? Is The Killer coming? Or does Julliana still have a hold of his balls at home? Guess I’ll find out very soon, won’t I?”

(A simple shrug of her shoulders as she turns her back away from the camera, it follows as the camera catches her from a side profile camera shot.)

“And then there’s you, The Gypsy King. A lot of people seem to want to be “gypsies” these days, so why do I feel like that’s what you are? I cannot tell if you’re a real or a fraud, because you act so… strange. You act so… differently… to the other gypsies that I know well. I get it, you’re decorated in riches, and a former OWA Television Champion… but that title has been through the ringer since the start of the year when you won it Harman. Do you not believe me? Well then, you beat a Hall of Famer in Tarah Nova to win the title and that’s all and fair good to you. That was something achievable for a first championship reign, but then you take a look at where the title went right afterwards with Jesus Christ from Jeru-Harlem and Simp-o-Mania between Stark and Nathan Fiora. I expected this sort of fuckery with the 24/7 Championship, not a title that’s supposed to represent all of Television! Harman, you’re a good man but like Keelan, you can’t come at me with a “I don’t know the ropes, this should be fairly easy” when you consider I’ve actually been hammering down hoes in the octagon and because I’m facing some men who’s got wives keeping a grip on their balls, it doesn’t mean I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m tired of being the sweetheart that everyone overlooks because this is literally my third ever match. I’m tired of being the brush over because nobody sees what I can do, Harman, I’m going to show you how much of a clown you are and not because of the type of person you are but by beating the crap out of you!”

(She once again grits her teeth a little.)

“Atlantis might be the one show I’ve been apart of and not being given the time to shine in the spotlight, but if I’ve to prove myself against the likes of these, then I will do it and I will make sure they’ll remember the name of Rebecca Brookes for a very long time. Come one, come all.. Keelan, I dare you to come and kill my career. Harman, I dare you to show me how useless I am. Karina, at least show up so I can knock your teeth out of your mouth. This is my moment, this is my time, I am The Princess of Odyssey! I am Rebecca Brookes! And this is my time to shine!”

(She turns to face the doors back into the mansion home, but she looks into the lens of the camera with one satisfying smile on her face.)

“And to quote my man… I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”

(Rebecca walks off and into the home, closing the doors behind her and leaving the scene to fade to black.)

(The camera opens up to show the outside of Chaz’s mansion in Harlem. We open to see Chaz lounging in a hot tub with the four ladies that compose Chaz’s Angels.)

Chaz O’Connors: YOOOOOO!!!! You already know what time it is! Moneybagz SZN IN THIS BITCH! Welcome to my crib OWA! What you’re seeing right now is The Stunning Hamilton Heights Mansion worth 5.5 MILLION DOLLARS! Ya boi gotta stay to his roots and live it up big in Harlem, but I can’t be roamin the streets like a rat like when we was kids. I’m grown now, I had to upgrade big time. And you know I had to bring my bois wit me!

(Chaz licks the side of Nessa Brown’s face without warning. She seems surprised by this sudden action as Chaz laughs.)

Chaz O’Connors: Enjoy yoself gurl, I’m Chaz “Moneybags” O’Connors! HAHAHAHA!

(Chaz stands up and begins walked through the different rooms of the mansion, of course drying himself off with a towel along the way. He stops when he sees Nino Capitani and “Yung Clip Gawd” Craig Black playing NBA 2k20)

Chaz O’Connors: This here is the personal lounge floor, we got video games, mini movie theatres, recording studios to make beats, whatever you could want. Hell I even got a mini strip club as one of the extra rooms on this floor. AYE!

Nino Capitani: What’s Poppin Tho?!

Chaz O’Connors: The cameras here from OWA, They wanna get my thoughts on my TV Title Match with Starkmane comin up next week.

Yung Clip Gawd: Oh shit, that’s wassup. Ayo Chaz, tell me this ain’t that fuckin bullshit or not?

Chaz O’Connors: Whatchu mean kid?

Yung Clip Gawd: Mans over here is usin the best team in the fuckin game bro. Tell him learn to use somebody other than Brooklyn!

Nino Capitani: Bro, we been over this ALREADY! The Clippers got the highest stats, I dunno how by the way...But Brooklyn ain’t number one so chill out! Besides, you usin the Lakers and they top ten too, they only one overall point behind the Nets.

Yung Clip Gawd: What are you trying to say then?!

Nino Capitani: THAT YOU SUCK BRO!

Yung Clip Gawd: Turn on the Twitch Stream right now then! Start streaming and see what happens!

Nino Capitani: Bait, pure bait! I ain’t fallin for it.

Chaz O’Connors: Aight, Imma leave yall to that.

Nino Capitani: Aight boss, make sure to tell the people that you finna beat the breaks off Starkmane, but him and his goon squad always welcome to house parties.

Yung Clip Gawd: They get lit like nobody else bruh, My IG Stories with them is still some of my most viewed!

(Chaz leaves the two of them to their controversial game as he enters his personal vault room, filled with stacks of hundred dollar bills everywhere.)

Chaz O’Connors: This section of the mansion is nothing except for my personal vault, where I keep all my earnings from all the different facets of my professional careers. Whether as a Fighter for Gladiator, Actor, Now as a Pro Wrestler, so on and so forth.

(Here we see Soultrain Jones and Carlton Keith Jaxon counting up Chaz’s weekly earnings.)

Chaz O’Connors: Good to see you bois in here bein productive unlike Nino and Craig.

Carlton Keith Jaxon: Oh but of course Chaz. You know we always do the best for you. Isn’t that right Mr. Jones?

(Chaz and Carlton turn to Soultrain Jones who seems to be dipping a bit of Chaz’s stacks into his own funds. Chaz walks up to Soultrain and snatches the bands from his grasp.)

Soultrain Jones: O-OH MONEYBAGZ BABY! Whatchu doin here?!

Chaz O’Connors: Apparently making sure MY stacks stay MINE! Soultrain I done told you about this shit before haven’t I?

Soultrain Jones: Listen, Big Homie Oasis hasn’t paid everyone their weekly salary yet. I’m still waitin on my check from OWA.

Chaz O’Connors: Boi you finna find out why they call me Mr. Beatcho if you keep on with this shit! Now if you gonna do the job, do it RIGHT! Aight!

Soultrain Jones: Aight.

Chaz O’Connors: Good, Carlton, where’s Flex at?

Carlton Keith Banks: He’s in the gym weight lifting with The Check.

Chaz O’Connors: That’s all they fookin do is work out...cinderblock asses. 

(Chaz leaves Soultrain and Carlton to their current task as he heads to the workout floor of his Mansion.)

Chaz O’Connors: FLEX! CHECK! WHERE YOU TWO FOOKERS AT YA?!

Flex: HEY PAL! WHAT TOOK YA SO LONG?

Chaz O’Connors: Flex, I told you I got the interview for my match with Starkmane today. 

Flex: Oh please, you can tell the people how you’re gonna whoop that out of shape wannabe tough guy while building some more muscle to yourself!

Chaz O’Connors: I told you Flex, I have to stay in premier fight shape. And that means NOT packing on another 45 pounds of muscle just because YOU think that’s how a pro wrestler should be built.

Flex: Come now, Just look at The Check here! As he’d put it, he’s CLANGIN AND BANGIN like nobody’s business to maintain those massive hard muscles! It’s what brought him to the dance both in wrestling AND in hollywood. Don’t you wanna be a big shot celebrity actor when you have to walk away from combat sports?

Chaz O’Connors: My one of a kind eccentric personality will net me that spot regardless Flex. Trust me on that one. And beating Starkmane isn’t as simple as you make it sound either. He’s a tough bastard. Them Japs are resilient as fook.

Flex: Oh please, Just look at yourself and look at him Chaz, that alone should guarantee your superiority! I mean, if he was superior JUST because he’s Japanese, then we wouldn’t have bombed their isl-

Chaz O’Connors: ANYWAYS, THANKS FLEX FOR YOUR INPUT, CHECK MY BROTHA FROM ANOTHA MUTHA! Whatchu think about Chaz vs Starkmane on Olympus for the TV Title?

Deandre “The Check” Greene: First of Chaz, lemme start by saying, FINALLY...THE CHECK..HAS COME BACK….TO HARLEM!!!!!!!

Chaz O’Connors: You’ve….been here for days now Check…

Deandre “The Check” Greene: The Check has no recollection of this. He JUST flew in off of his 65 MILLION DOLLAR ELECTRIFYING PRIVATE JET!

Chaz O’Connors: Riiiight….

Deandre “The Check” Greene: Anyways, The Check believes that Chaz has the fire, the ambition, and the professionally trained skill set to take down Starkmane and take the Television Championship from him in RECORD TIME!

Chaz O’Connors: Hmm...Okay. Well if you’ll excuse me gents, I’m goin to go meet up with my Bois from the streets up in the VIP section. Y’all keep hittin the weights tho for me!

Deandre “The Check” Greene: The Check shall do so Chaz!

Flex: Hope to see you in here maxing your bench and bulking those Biceps PAL!

(Chaz leaves the workout section of his 5.5 Million Dollar Mansion to head to the VIP Section, which is that Private Strip Club Chaz referred to earlier on. He takes a seat after dapping up a bunch of men already there knocking back drinks and throwing bills at the dancing females.)

Chaz O’Connors: Ayo Malik, P, Kidd, Big T, LA what’s good bruhs!

(After exchanging greetings with his Harlem bois Chaz begins tossing out 100 Dollar Bills at the stripper to the far right named Hennessey as he turns to the camera.)

Chaz O’Connors: Now’s the part where I kick back, relax, and break down why I’m gonna be the next World Television Champion on Olympus. First off, look at me. Name one man with a more over the top entertaining existence than me? Just TRY and find ONE! I dare ya! Chaz “Moneybagz” O’Connors has no equal in terms of personality, in terms of drip, if you would. Hence why I’m the don of drip. Starkmane is a tough customer. I’ve seen him take ass whoopings like nobody else and still stand tall askin for more. It’s admirable. Well, to a lesser man. To me while impressive, it doesn’t move me anyway in terms of putting doubts in my head. Why? Because unlike all these bois who only know pro wrestling. These cats that have never fought for real. When I deliver a perfectly blow, muthafookas DON’T MOVE! THEY LAY THERE LIFELESS! And then they wake up wondering what in the bloody hell done happened ot them. How’d they get their eye swollen so much. Why is my head rockin so hard and throbbin in pain? Well I’ll tell ya exactly why Starkmane. It’s because you will get dropped in record time by ME! MONEYBAGZ IS COMIN! AND THERE WON’T BE ANYWHERE TO RUN OR HIDE! IT’S PUT UP OR SHUT UP! YOU SAID YOU WERE GONNA DEFEND AGAINST ANY AND ALL CHALLENGERS! THAT YOU PLANNED ON ELEVATING THIS TITLE AND MAKING IT THE STANDARD FLAG BEARER FOR HOT CONTESTS IN THE RING! WHERE ONLY THE BEST COMPETITOR COMES OUT ON TOP! SPOILER ALERT MY MANS, HE’S TALKIN TO YOU RIGHT NOW! BUT DON’T WORRY! I’LL TAKE ON WHAT YOU’VE PROMISED AND DELIVER TEN FOLD! NO...IT’LL BE ONE HUNDRED FOLD, I ONLY DEAL WITH HUNDREDS OR HIGHER, JUST ASK THIS BITCH RIGHT HERE! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA

(Chaz begins making it rain 100 Dollar Bills on Hennessey as another one of the strippers, Berry, joins her. Chaz shifts towards the camera after a bit and gives a serious glare.)

Chaz O’Connors: I’M AS COLD AS ICE, BUT I’M HOTTER THAN SATAN’S GAS! I RULE THE WORLD, AND ON OLYMPUS, I’M FINNA BEATCHO HOE ASS!

(Chaz backs up from the camera and begins smirking once more.)

Chaz O’Connors: I mean, just look at what I did to that punk bitch Nathan Fiora at Hardcore Havoc! I CAVED HIS SKULL THE FUCK IN WITH ONE KICK! THAT MUTHAFOOKA AIN’T EVER GONNA BE THE SAME! HE AIN’T SHIT! THE ONLY HEADLINE HE’S EVER MADE IS GETTIN HIS SORRY ASS WHOOPED BY SOMEBODY! BUT I MADE HIS ASS FAMOUS FOR SURE JUST BY NAME ASSOCIATION IN THE NEWS! STARK, THAT’S YOU COMIN UP REAL SOON! NOBODY DOES THIS SHIT LIKE ME! I’M HERE TO TAKE OVER THIS BITCH! SOON ENOUGH I’LL CONSISTENTLY HAVE HIGHEST BILLING AROUND HERE! ADS WILL ONLY BE ABOUT MONEYBAGZ! POSTERS WILL ONLY FEATURE MONEYBAGZ! VIDEO HIGHLIGHTS WILL ONLY FEATURE MONEYBAGZ! 

(Chaz stands to his feet as he walks out of the room and is embraced by Chaz’s Angels.)

Chaz O’Connors: The way I see it bruh, This place ain’t no different than Gladiator FC. The rosters in both are the EXACT SAME! Chaz “Moneybagz” O’Connors...and a bunch of pussy ass VICTIMS!

(Chaz slaps the camera out from the camera man’s hands as the feed cuts to static, but sound can be heard.)

Camera man: CH-CHAZ THOSE ARE EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE! WHAT AM I GONNA TELL MR. OASIS AND THE BOARD?!

Chaz O’Connors: TELL’EM I CAN PAY FOR A MILLION MORE WITH EASE, THAT’S WHAT YOU TELL’EM! NOW GET THE FOOK OUTTA MY MANSION!

(Chaz stomps on the Camera, ending the recording completely.)

The scene opens up to a very cheap looking hotel somewhere in the St. Louis area.  Despite the place’s rundown appearance, business seems to be going well however as the parking lot is filled with cars and people can be spotted all over the place enjoying their Sunday afternoon.  There’s a pair of Mexican gangbangers, that look like they came straight out of a Llorona promo, playing cards at a table out front.  There’s several young adults out by the pool, already three sheets to the wind, blaring music and swilling White Claws and Fireball shots.  A nosy old man is disapprovingly observing them from his window.  A small girl standing outside her room, wearing her mother’s sunglasses, dances to the Katy Perry track the party goers are playing.  In the center of all of this sits a familiar face.  None other than OWA’s own Jeff X sits in a lawn chair just outside the door to his room, casually looking on at all of the activity.  He’s dressed in a dark gray sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a faded pair of Levi’s jeans.  His camouflage Realtree hat rests gently atop his head and he has his scuffed up work boots propped up on a small cooler that sits just in front of him.  As the camera slowly zooms in on him, Jeff brings the half-full bottle of Bud Light that he holds in his left hand to his lips and takes a long swig from it before beginning to speak in that familiar southern accent of his.

“Final Destination 2...a night that was supposed to be the culmination of a lifetime’s worth of struggle for me.  A night that I had envisioned in my head countless times since I was just a small boy pretending to be my favorite wrestlers in my own backyard.  A night that I was finally going to take my place atop this industry and make everything...all the pain, sweat, blood, tears...all the heartache...that night was supposed to make it all worth it.”


Jeff sighs and shakes his head as he pulls a pack of Marlboro Reds from his pocket.  He quickly pulls a cigarette from it and lights it up before continuing.


“But by now, we all know that none of that happened.  I stepped into the ring and for the second straight year, I stole the show at Final Destination with a match against Bull Connors that will be talked about for years to come...but at the end of the day I failed to walk out with my prize.  Truth be told...that loss made me sick.  I’m still feeling the results of it now.  Replaying it over and over in my head.  I haven’t been able to get the sound of Jamison Pierce out of my head as I just keep hearing him bellow out the words ‘AND STILL’.  It took my entire career to finally get to that point...to FINALLY find myself in a World Championship match...and it slipped right through my fingers.  I make no excuses for the loss.  Bull Connors bested me straight up in that ring.  I give all the respect in the world to him, but it made me sick to my stomach to have to eat that loss...knowing what it took to finally get that opportunity...and not knowing how long it would be until I got another...hell, not knowing if I would EVER get one again.  So I decided to only focus on the things that I can control.  I poured myself back into my training and preparation.  I’ve spent nearly every waking moment in the gym...so much so that those closest to me started to become worried about my own mental health...my obsession with getting back to the position I was in at Final Destination.  But while I can see the concern written all over their faces...Presley, my mother...I refuse to let it slow me down.  Despite this seemingly endless feud that I have had going on with Chris all year...my focus has remained steadfast on gaining another opportunity at the World Championship and when it finally comes around...I’ll be damned if I won’t be ready for it this time.  Fortunately, as fate would have it, I’m not going to have to toil away for another two years in this company trying to reach that spot again, because I now find myself on the cusp of that opportunity once more.  And this time, I’m not going to have to take on twenty nine others to get there...just one...Michael Bishop.”


A small smirk flickers upon Jeff’s face for just a moment as takes a long drag from his cigarette before washing the taste of smoke from his mouth with yet another sip from his beverage.

“I knew from the moment Bishop made his shocking return back at the Clash that it was only going to be a matter of time before we crossed paths.  Two headstrong, driven, and violent people like us can only exist on the same brand in this industry for so long before being pitted against one another.  And truth be told, I’ve been waiting patiently for that day to arrive.  You see, I’ve followed your career rather closely Mike.  Three time MMA heavyweight champion..11 successful title defenses...your trilogy of bouts with Benjamin Bannon was the stuff of legend.  I’d even go as far to say that you’re the greatest fighter that the octagon has ever seen.  But while your MMA career is nothing short of legendary...your tenure here in OWA has always left more to be desired, hasn’t it Mike?”


Again, Jeff takes a moment to hit his smoke and have another drink.


“Don’t get me wrong...I like you...I really do.  You’re one of the very few people in this company that doesn’t try to run and hide to protect your image.  You’ve always been willing to step up to any and everyone that this business would throw at you.  You’re tough as nails and always have been.  I can respect that.  I can also respect the fact that you say exactly what’s on your mind at all times...even if sometimes it’s nothing but hypocritical bullshit.”

After one last puff from the cigarette, Jeff flicks the butt out into the parking lot, leaving it to burn itself out.


“You see, I heard your little message to me earlier this week Mike.  You seem awfully critical of every single accomplishment I’ve had, for someone who hasn’t accomplished a single fucking thing during their time here.  Downplaying my run as Spartans Champion because I only had two title defenses to my credit?  Guess what Mike?  I don’t make the fucking matches around here.  I can only defeat those who were placed in front of me, and I fucking have.  You can talk all you want about how often you would have defended the championship if you were in that position, but that’s nothing more than a pleasant fiction you’ve dreamed up, because you’ve never been good enough to have a title to call your own in this company.  You want to bring up my failure at Final Destination against Bull?  Fair enough, but the fact of the matter is, at least I was skilled enough to make it that far.  Twenty nine other men had their chance to get there, INCLUDING your brittle boned ass, and each and every one of you FAILED to get the job done while I did not.  So what the fuck gives you the right to think that you can shit on my rap sheet, when your very own OWA resume is essentially non-fucking-existant.  And it’s not because you didn’t have your chances.  You were in the inaugural OWA World Championship tournament...Jon McAdams cast you aside.  After that, you set your sights on tag gold and entered the gauntlet with Oasis, only for you to let him down by being bested by Savannah fuckin’ Sunshine of all god damn people.  But never worry, because good ol’ Michael Bishop would then find himself with an opportunity to challenge for the Spartans title...all he had to do was beat Monolith...but that didn’t work out so well for you either, did it Mike?  Even after Wolvesden put you and your papier-mâché knee on the fucking shelf for twenty months, you came right back and received the opportunity to claim the Ascension to the Heavens briefcase, but you couldn’t outdo Havoc, coud you?  And now here you are...with an opportunity to punch your ticket to the Steel Asylum match at Boiling Point for the OWA World Championship...but just as you always do Mike, you will fail once again, this time by my own hand.”


Jeff downs what remains in the bottle and places it on the ground by his side, joining a collection of other empties.  He opens up the cooler and grabs a new one before propping his feet back up on it and cracking open his fresh beer.

“You can drone on and on about the things that you fight for Bishop.  I don’t care.  I don’t care if you fight for your family, your friends, your fans, your city...none of it matters.  Because you didn’t JUST start fighting for them this week Mike.  You’ve ALWAYS fought for them...and you’ve let them down each and every fucking time.  And next Sunday you’re going to do it yet again.  Because we’re not living in your MMA glory days Bishop.  The UCD is dead.  This is OWA.  This is MY world.  A world that you, yourself, admitted that I have taken by storm.  And I don’t give a shit whether you want to buy into the hype Mike.  Most people don’t.  But in the end, they all find out the hard way why that hype exists in the first place.  Because I wasn’t just handed this spot I’m in while you were away.  I got it because I brought the fight that you USED to have each and every time I’ve stepped through those ropes.  I brought the fight to Nate Cage and the Wolvesden and came out the other side the victor, in a battle that your own body has already proven physically incapable of withstanding.  I brought the fight to Layne Kurobane who was once considered the greatest Spartans Champion of all time and in the end, I shattered every record he set.  I brought the fight to Chris Sabertooth, Tarah Nova, and even your old buddy Carlos Rosso, and each and every time my hand was raised in victory.  Even in defeat, I brought that fight to Bull Connors at Final Destination and he knows DAMN well that that was the fight of his fucking life.  If you don’t believe me, go ask him your fuckin’ self.  And this Sunday, Mike...I’m bringing that fight to you.  A fight that you simply are not prepared to have.”


Jeff takes his first sip of his beer and leans back in the chair, staring out into the distance.

“Don’t get me wrong...I do still like you.  It brings me no pleasure knowing that you’re once again going to have to go home and look in your wife’s eyes knowing that you let her and everyone else you fight for down.  But as you are already aware, like you, I fight for more than just myself as well.  And unlike you, I will never become comfortable with the idea of letting them down.  Next Sunday, I’m going to enter that ring and I’m going to do what I always do...and you Mike?  You’re going to do what you always do...”


Jeff now stares directly into the camera with those cold, blue eyes of his.


“It’s because of that, you.  Will.  Lose."

The scene opens up with music of Jacob and he says I'm insuring a open challenge to anybody on roster. at match show I steel got what it takes to beat them one on one.

See Nobi I care about you. But at the same time I need to hurt you. I want to grab your head and put it on the mat and just stomp you. I want to grab the folding car you gave me and take the foam off and just crack your skull. Nobi, I'm going to say this again. I love you but you are in the way. You are in the way. You are making me crazy to murder, hurt, and kill. And I don’t want to fucking do that Nobi I don’t. I was living in flames. I was talking to the devil on my shoulder. Nobi and the truth is on Olympus I’m taking you to hell with me. I’m taking you to see your other side. I’m taking you to see the side you never want to release. I have been in the darkness for so long I have been in hell for so long. My broken dreams is telling me one day you are going to lose everything you put your hard work in. Nobi welcome to your future and welcome to your death. Inside me I have these flames growing inside me. My level is rising. There’s no holding me back. There’s no looking back welcome to the future. 

You are the White Knight. I’m the Sinner. But when the Knight faces the Sinner. Everybody thinks the Knight is going to defeat evil. But the sinner is a different force of evil. The Sinner is the man who is going to kill for his opportunity. The Sinner is the man who loves to hurt people. And The Sinner is the man who doesn't care who he hurts or kills. When I got sent back from heaven. They didn’t want me. But when I saw the hounds in hell they did want me. They gave me the power to become a new person. Nobi when I look at you sometimes you remind me of the 7 Deadly Sins. Every time I see you I see a sin each time.

Nobi is a person who claims he likes everybody, but behind closed doors he talks about you. Nobi barely even cares about people. You barely call or check up on me. And I thought we had a fucking close bond. I thought you were my friend. I trust you. But Nobi is always Mr. Nice guy. You sure about that, cause you told me shit when I was training. I mean I’m facing the best of the best. Oh oops I meant I’m facing the best of kissing ass and then lie. You claim you are the White Knight. but behind the scenes you are a person who cares about the money and that’s it. 

And everybody thinking’s Nobi is a nice person. You are not a nice person. You don’t deserve the fame, money, pride. You deserve a trip to hell. And Nobi I’m taking you there on Olympus. I’m taking you to the place you deserve to be. When I’m done with you I’m showing you why I’m here. I’m showing the world why it’s AJ MOTHAFUCKING JENKYNX time to shine. I’m taking the hero everybody cares about and turning him into the villain he’s inside. It’s my turn to end everybody's hero. It’s my time to be the villain I know I am. 

Out of time to say goodbye. What is yours.
Now is mine. And I dream broken dreams. And I make them come true.

Nobi on June 19 you will have a fight of your life. Cause I’m here once and for all. And I’m not moving till I take what I want.

A dark alley way /Night/Noir Lights

A hooded figure can be seen walking around a dark alley.   He stops under a street lamp.  

"Chaos has arrived.  The apocalypse stares at us.  End is near"

The figure starts walking again as blue flames start and follow him....


"The hell has risen from the depths, the beast is here"

The figure kneels and punches the ground.  The ground shakes and scene goes static...

Then the screen goes black.  Following words flash on the screen in blue flames:


"The trial of life begins,
Answer the call of The Beast"

Ahaha it's good to see you around in OWA, AJ Jenkynx.

First of the all, thank you for calling me a future Hall of Famer. As far as I'm concern, you and Tarah Nova are the only one that has faith in me that I'll be big someday. That warms my heart, AJ.

It's a miracle that you came back to life but I'm happy it happened because I believe in you, you can kick anyone and everyone's assess. It's a matter of time for you to do so, AJ. Therefore, don't be sorry to me. Don't hold your back. Use everything you have against me and let's see if you can try to start getting closer to reach your dreams if you're able to beat me, AJ.

I mean I'm in your way to make your dreams come true, right AJ? Then no need to think about anything else. Just focus on try beating me. This match is so important for you as much as it's important to me. I always take my opponents seriously, no matter who it is. I haven't been winning matches lately, so I'm ready to bring my A Game to you. If you aren't ready to bring yours, then no shame of you backing off.

But I have a faith in you that you're ready to bring your best. Here's a lesson for you, young man. Don't think about anything else. People may like me but it doesn't necessarily make you as a villain. But even so, you need to come out with a black mind sometimes. You have to be focused and just concentrate on your opponent.

Which bring me to my next point, AJ. Yes it's true, I have money. It's because I'm a Hollywood star. But money isn't the reason why people love me. You have to remember, I started wrestling first before I tried my hands in Hollywood. People love me for the way I am. That's how I got my nick name, young man. Unlike you, AJ, I didn't start the trending by calling myself "The White Knight" all the time. The fans gave me this nick name and that's how The White Knight born. I wasn't born in a medieval period but just like a real White Knight, I'm ready to fight and give my best to my opponents.

You know how I am when I lost control, AJ, and trust me, you won't like it. I don't even hate you at all. I just want to beat you. Therefore, all my intentions is just to beat you 1-2-3 right in the middle of the ring.

It feels good to be back, and what a way to come back. I come back and I am in the main event against the current champion. That is a hell of a way to come back, and I am thankful the match isn’t for the belt. I will be honest here if it was as soon as the bell would have been rung I would have just laid down and took that pin. Would it have been anti-climatic? Yes. Would it have been a dumb move? Sure, you can argue that. Would have I gotten a lot of flak from the fans and Viola herself? Hell yeah, I would, but I wouldn’t care because it would be a smart move on my part. Anyway, I am glad it isn’t a title match because it means I will wrestle and put on a show for everyone. This match will be a real David vs Goliath story, though in this one Goliath will win this time because let’s be real here. There is a lot against me whether it be weight, height, and so on. This will not be an easy match, but it would be worth it even if I lose, then I will congratulate Eris on the match and head back to the locker room. Though there is one I request Eris. Can this match just be one on one? I know The Void has had a habit to interfere and everything, but that is all I am asking for a fair fight, and that is it.

Now I know there is a question that some may be wondering. Why don’t I want to be in the championship picture or even want the belt? The answer is simple. I both hated and loved being the champion, but I hated it more so than loved. Let me explain. As I have mentioned before, winning the championship was great and all that. I will not talk about that half because I mentioned all of it before, but I never touched upon the hated part. The reason I hated being champion was because it consumed me just like how The One Ring would consume its wearer. Where is the proof of this? Easy, just go back and watch what happened when I lost the belt. Everything changed for me. I became everything I hated, and I was miserable. The only thing good that came from it is that I learned a lesson from it. Now, it was the same lesson that one could learn from watching A Game of Pool from the original Twilight Zone, and that lesson is when you are on top you have to stay on top and your life gets consumed by what you are doing because there is always someone coming after you so they can be the best.

So Eris while you are the champion just remember that one simple lesson. Everyone, well minus myself, will go after your belt and you better be prepared to fight for it no matter the cost... though granted you have The Void around you so that helps you out a bit. So Eris I am looking forward towards our match as you one of the few I have never got to face, and this is my comeback match so I am pretty excited about that. So with that all said, I wish everyone a Good Day, Good Luck, and Goodbye.

I: INDULGE IN THE MADNESS

(The scene begins with a shot focusing on the dark grey clouds in the sky. A man can be seen driving into an empty road, approaching a condemned home. Next, we see inside the house, full of dust, bugs, and rats running around antiques. The man is startled by this, but they continue their way around the house. They make their way to a heavily locked door. A creak is heard and the man immediately turns around, seeing a figure.)

???: Betty, we got a new friend to play with now.

(The man sees a crowbar approaching their head. A loud thump is heard and the screen goes pitch black. They eventually open their eyes and see that they’re tied up against a chair, with a large amount of blood covering them. The man looks around and eventually meets eyes with the figure, holding a crowbar full of blood. There’s a long silence between them.)

???: ...My bad, I think I might’ve hit you a little too hard. I can get a bit carried away sometimes; I almost killed someone due to my...violent tendencies. But enough of that, you’re gonna be fine when you tell me who you are and why the hell you decided to step into this place. Don’t you dare scream or I’ll be forced to give you another gash!

Man: Please don’t hurt me! I was given this address; I’m here on urgent business to talk to an “Oliver Harpe” about his future. 

(The figure pulls a chair from behind and sits right in front of the messenger. He begins to shake in fear as the figure begins to play with his crowbar.)

Oliver Harpe: Well, the handsome sob with that name is...me, so spit out whatever the hell you were gonna tell me.

Man: Well, Mr. Harpe...congratulations! You’re officially in the Omega Wrestling Alliance, one of the most elite wrestling promotions in the world. My boss has seen your work and they are quite impressed indeed. He is in need of your services right away. 

Oliver Harpe: Is that so? Name the time, place, and opponent.

Man: Y-yes Mr. Harpe! You will be facing Jett Valentine next Thursday on OWA Atlantis. He’s quite the fighter I’ve heard.

Oliver Harpe: Interesting, but that doesn’t scare me one damn bit. Do you even know who I am and what I’ve done to people scarier than him? 

Man: You’re Oliver Harpe, one of the best hitman money can hire. The boss was very high on your previous work...well while you were in prison.

Oliver Harpe: That’s right. Now, remember that before you begin blabbing that ignorant mouth of yours. Let’s move to the most important question: How much will I be paid for my services?

Man: You will be paid handsomely as promised. OWA has bags of money to throw so as long as you’re fulfilling the bosses wishes-

(Harpe puts his bloody finger over the man’s mouth. He looks at him with a sense of disgust.)

Oliver Harpe: You don’t need to worry about me. Your boss will get everything they want and tenfold. 

Man: If you can hand me my phone I can show you what your first opponent is all about…

Oliver Harpe: I would, but it seems like you’re in a bit of a knot and I don’t want you running along quite yet.

(Oliver grabs the man’s phone and looks through his apps. The man directs Harpe to a database where he looks up Jett Valentine. After a few minutes looking into his record, Harpe smirk becomes a frown, spits on the phone, and then proceeds to slam it to the ground.)

Oliver Harpe: What a joke. This Jett Valentine wants to claim that he’s infamous, yet I’ve never heard about him in my life. If he was actually some sort of grimy fuck then he would’ve actually done something awful. What’s the worst thing he’s done? Bring a little knife around with him to mitigate the fact that he’s really a soft nerd clamoring for attention and sympathy. Guys like you make me absolutely sick because when it’s an actual fight, you wouldn’t last a minute with me. It’d take me a few seconds to knock you on your ass then proceed to beat you to a bloody pulp. However, since we’re in a ring with rules, I’m gonna have to watch myself because I have some money to collect right after. You see, this is how I work: I unleash unholy barbarity on someone until my client is satisfied and once that is done, I get paid. Fortunately for you Jett, you won’t be leaving the ring on a stretcher. Unfortunately, though, you will feel shame, pain, and everything between as I ragdoll you around your ring next Thursday. It doesn’t matter whether we’re in a wrestling ring, in the middle of the street, in this house or elsewhere; the outcome will be the same. What’s the outcome you ask? Well, it’s as simple as this: I kick your ass and show you how it feels like to be around infamy. It ain’t as glorious as you pretend it is; you gotta watch your ass because you’ve pissed off a lot of people. You either sink, swim, or are drowned by the scummiest of people you’ll ever meet. This isn’t one of your video games where you can turn it off and go back to living your simple life.

(Harpe steps on the messenger’s phone and walks in circles, thinking out loud. He grabs his crowbar, Betty, and continues to pace around.)

Oliver Harpe: Do you wanna know what I do, messenger boy?...Well...DO YOU?

Messenger: Yes...yes I do.

Oliver Harpe: I’m a hitman for hire. I’m called “The Gravedigger” for a reason; I’m amazing at what I do. Now you might think that I’m going to kill this poor boy next week, but that isn’t the case. Obviously I would lose money by being sent to prison again, so I will be tamer in my ways. However, this isn’t good news for our friend Jett. My motto since I started this chapter in my life is...Indulge in the Madness. I want to relish in the pain that I cause to this pipsqueak, even if I’m not allowed to use good old Betty. I want to hear him scream in pain as I’m sonning him in the middle of his much-admired ring. He won’t be able to handle what I’ve been able to learn in a short time about these in-ring tactics he praises himself so much about. My job is to win and that is what I’ll do, whether you like that or not Valentine. Money makes this world and it makes me do my job the best I can. Don’t take it too personally as I’m sure you can just make wrestling another short-term commitment like everything else you’ve done. My job is just starting here and I’m not willing to take a loss from a wimp with a little knife. If you want to be taken seriously, you gotta get rid of that first. Second, you gotta actually do something that garners you respect or intimidation from your peers. 

(Harpe grabs a bag full of photos of all of his victims in prison and hands them to the messenger. Their faces are absolutely swollen and their bodies are completely bruised. As the messenger continues to go see the photos, his mouth opens in complete horror. Harpe is unfazed by the pictures and prides himself in his work.)

Oliver Harpe: Now, before you think I’m some creep...the cops took these pictures. I will say that I’m incredibly proud of my work though. The beautiful violence spawned from me and peace was made as they all went through hell. My prison mates feared my presence as they knew I was about to ruin someone’s day...week...month...year. You name it. If someone decided to try to tussle up with me, let’s just say you wouldn’t be seeing them for a really long time. You’d think they escaped prison but no, it’s quite the opposite. The better part is that when they were found, they would be shells of their former selves, avoiding me if I ever stepped into the same room as them. You wouldn’t recognize them after the brutality they experienced from these two babies I call hands. They would never speak around me again and never dare to come after me because they knew that the consequences would not be worth it. This is your fate Jett, and I hope you prepare as much as you can by flipping around this ring. I’m going to indulge in the madness as this crowd sees me tear you in two. You will live in infamy, being the first man that I victimized on live TV for the money. Did you get that messenger boy? You better get that to Jett there and let him know that his career is six feet under before it even started. But before you tell him, messenger boy...

(Harpe goes for a stiff right into the messenger boy’s temple. Oliver walks away, leaving the messenger knocked out and untied. By the time he wakes up, he is back in his car in the middle of nowhere. The camera fades out to black as a look of confusion surrounds the messenger’s face.)

Olympus Promo 1: Coffin SWAK

(The camera opens on a crowded and bustling street at dusk.  Traffic confusingly weaves in and out of lanes, people in the sidewalk blast past each other, making direct shoulder contact as they nudge past.  Some carry picket signs, some carry guns, but only a select few still wear masks.  Cutting through the foot traffic into a dark and empty alleyway, we find Derelict laid up against the side of a dumpster, his chest heaving and his temple pressed against a cold groove in the metal.)

"The world is changing around us every day.  The streets are alive once more with outrage over police, race wars, or simply wanting to go eat at a restaurant.  Humanity picks strange times to rebel.  All the while the virus grows and courses through their veins, unchecked, untreated, and incubated in the hotbox of inner city life.  In the end some will die because they refused to stay inside.  Some of those deaths will have purpose.  Others? they'll be a statistic in a medical book.  One way or the other, change will happen though.  I can guarantee you that.  Humanity...the greatest plague to ever hit God's green."

(Derelict stiffly pushes himself off the ground.  As he rises, his legs creak, but barely bend.  He limps toward a nearby wall where a mural has been freshly painted depicting Elmo from Sesame Street flipping the bird with giant Comic Sans letters over him reading "Defund The Police".  Derelict cracks his neck as he inspects the work with alien curiosity.)

"Yeah...yeah I could get behind that.  I'm sure you could too, Bull.  You're quite the outspoken competitor lately...smart one, too.  'at's what I like about you, Bull.  You may sound like a blowhard, but you do what needs to be done to survive.  Your attack on me last week? It wasn't random.  It wasn't out of the blue.  Part of me would've been let down if you hadn't tried to put me through a table right before your big match.  You might not get it yet, but that attack? It was a love letter to me, just like how mine on you was sealed with a kiss.  It was a Glasgow kiss, but a sign of affection regardless.  What's a few love taps between two men who fancy one another?  Now I'm not trying to get all weird and gushy on you.  I'm not in love with you, not that there's anything wrong with that, but I am infatuated with you Bull.  It's not a case of gold band envy, thinking about what might've been or what could be.  I respect the promise that it represents, even if I am all by my lonesome since my truest of love left my side.  Yeah, we were attached at the hip at one point.  I'll admit that I wasn't always faithful, and occasionally abused her, but it was only because I wanted to fix her.  Now she's with another man who doesn't deserve her, someone you find standing in your corner as you and I face off. Someone who wears a matching band that promises a brighter tomorrow.  I don't know if you respect Gareth Cason or what he's done with my formerly betrothed, but I can promise you that it'll never be the same with him as it could've been with me standing by your side and wearing that sanctimonious token of eternal bliss."

(Derelict turns to face the camera, the vulgar Elmo still looming behind him as a backdrop as he stares coldly down the lens.)

"Alas, my formerly betrothed has eyes for another.  There is a man with similar sentiments as my own who wants to take my dearly beloved OWA Openweight Championship, and I personally think he's right for her.  I can concede my love to a better man who'd treat her better than I ever have.  Unfortunately for you Gareth, that isn't you.  I don't know much about this Darkane cat, which may be the biggest reason why I don't have a problem with him taking her from you.  He's a loner, a recluse, a man who doesn't care for the rules that society tries to lay down for him or the people that make up society itself.  Now I can relate to that and give my full blessing on his future union with my old flame.  Don't cry for me though.  I'm considering trading up for an older, more mature, and richer model that holds more power than even I can fathom. I'm on the prowl for my sugar mamma.  That's where you come back into the picture Bull.  As I've said before, you've been a great champion.  You do what it takes to hold on to what you hold sacred and dear.  Like an old widower wearing his wedding band long after his wife's passing, I never see you without that championship within your line of sight. I'm willing to work out a compromise though.  I don't mind you two being friends after I take her.  Again, I'm not the jealous type.  After all, you're the only man here who could match up to me when it comes to dishing it out in a fight.  With that being said, I feel as though you're running scared and trying to dodge the inevitable.  She's going to leave you for me.  She's going to wrap herself around my waist and never let go.  Her and I? we're going to be tighter than flesh on muscle.  Now it might boil your blood to see her hanging off another man, but like I said before you're more than welcome to come and check up on her.  As a matter of fact, if I get her I wont suffer any other former suitors other than yourself.  I'll even let you try and take her back if you'd like.  Who knows? maybe you will manage to land her for a one night stand? but understand that I'll always come back for her and bring her home whether she wants to go or not....but I reiterate;  I like you Bull.  I'll even confess that I'm only trying to shack up with her to get closer to you."

(Derelict begins to walk, but nearly trips as his foot lands on a discarded spray can of red paint laying on it's side.  He picks it up and studies it, first with rage in his eyes, then with a placid expression of thought.  He begins shaking the paint can as he continues to speak.)

"Let's drop the pretense of cryptic allegories of holy unions and just say what's on our minds.  You're better than that, aren't you Bull? You're better than coded messages and mind games.  You don't let such things get to you and probably mock them outright because you're a straight forward kind of man.  I dig it, I dig it.  The bottom line is that you're the best fighter this company has on it's active roster.  You gave one of the best in the game a run for her money until she had to concede that you were the more durable opponent and stepped out of the limelight to give you your time.  You don't sweat the technique, you don't boast 'greatest of all time', you don't whine when confronted by an abomination to the religious ideology of technical wrestling.  You're at the top because you're the toughest, meanest, and biggest.  You understand that, just like in prison, if someone tries to challenge that claim you have to step up and take them down a peg before they gain a reputation of being top of the food chain.  You see me and you see a threat to everything you have, everything you've fought for, everything you've pried out of Tarah Nova's cold dead hands in peril.  You see her fate, a fate that you suffered her, and you know that it's inevitably going to be your own."

(The Derelict approaches the dumpster and begins going to work on it with the spray can.  His hand is steady and his posture is straight.  There's a clear intention in his posture and slow methodical paint strokes that suggest he's putting love into his handiwork.)

"That's what happens to true champions, Bull.  They don't fall back down the card to take lesser gold.  They don't ride into the sunset to an early retirement where they can enjoy the fruits of their labor in some nice retirement community in Cabo.  There is no retirement plan for pit dogs of our breed and conditioning, which is a big reason I don't care for the financial trappings of this industry.  It's all meant to be burned in our prime, and some of us do that and walk away just in time to die penniless.  That wont be us though.  We wont be victims of the system.  We'll go out our way and die in that ring fighting for what matters.  It's not a gold belt, it's not a heavy fight purse, and it's not about landing in some prestigious museum of grapplers who could lace a leg like nothing in their prime, but lived so long and stuck around past their expiration that they can't even manage to lace their shoes when they reach the twilight years that men like us simply wont see.  We'll die in glory, Bull.  We'll die in their ring and leave them the burden of disposing of our corpses after they've picked us clean of everything of value that they couldn't take while we stood breathing. That's what sets us apart from the Gareth Cason's of the world and I think you know that.  We're their problem now and we'll be their problem when we die.  And will they shill out for brass coffins and Christian burial plots when we die? Will the sacred and legendary institutions made up of cowards who wrestled and lived to tell their grand kids about it as they slip off into dementia from the blows we landed on them collect money to give us a respectful burial? No.  Men like us die too ugly to be in history books.  We may die young, but we don't leave behind pretty corpses.  I sleep in what I know will inevitably be my tomb every single night, Bull.  I've accepted my fate as a badge of pride for what I have and will put others through.  So should you.  That's our true lasting legacy after all; the scars we give others.  There wont be long funeral processions of our family and peers when we slip from our mortal coil in our prime because we don't have any family and we're forced to destroy the only people who deserve respect.  When I'm done with you they'll scrape you off that canvas and throw you away without the slightest hint of respect on your name.  I'll remember you though, and I'll make sure to come and visit and leave an open bottle and a bouquet of flowers in your glorious memory.  Don't be worried about getting lost in the system either, friend.  I've made it so I'll always know where to find you."

(The Derelict steps away from the dumpster to reveal big red letters scrawled across the lid with the finest penmanship that anyone could ever manage with spray paint.)

Here Lies Bull Connors: Just Another Forgotten Fighter xoxo

We open on a shot of Jacob sitting in a barren room adjusting his camera, the only lighting provided coming from what one could assume to be a computer screen. He looks rather disheveled; his hair is a mess, his facial hair beginning to grow in more than just the mustache, and there are bags under his eyes. After fiddling with the camera, he sits back and sighs before speaking. 

"Well, it's nice to know my silence did not go unnoticed. The last week or so has been... a period of self-reflection. Time and time again I have come up short in the matches where it matters the most. The Ascension to the Heavens Briefcase almost literally slipped through my fingers at Final Destination, I was close to breaking Bishop but then he knocked me out, I made it into the final five in the Hardcore Invitational but then gravity intervened, and to top it all off, the moment I could have changed WWH for the better, I failed... it's a deep wound that has yet to heal. And this... this is a reminder of all that."

He reaches out of frame for a moment to grab something. With a grunt, he pulls into view the Jeff X's Hardcore Invitational Trophy.

"Jeff's Invitational Trophy. Given to me by the man himself... or would have been if Havoc hadn't wanted to do the honors. It was supposed to be a sign of respect, but ever since that night... it's just a glorified participation trophy. And to the rest of the company, it's just another reason for them to mock me. Should I be grateful to the man who started this whole 'Velocity Jobber' trend for giving me the trophy he won? It's patronizing, that's what it is!"

As he yells, he throws the trophy offscreen before we hear a resounding crash of metal on floor. Suddenly, there is a brief display of static, as if the recording was losing transmission. For a moment, it returns to the shot of Jacob as he seethes in his seat. But in that brief moment, it looks like he isn't alone, as a shadowy figure stands against the wall behind him, watching him. The feed cuts again and when we return, Jacob is once again calm and alone.

"And yet, I keep it... because I need that reminder of these hardships and failures to put me on the right track again. The track to victory. And this starts with you Ryo. And you were foolish enough to mistake my silence for weakness! I'm glad you did your research on me, I just hope that one of your takeaways from your work is that I will go to whatever lengths necessary to achieve a goal. I almost broke Bishop's knee in our Bloodsport match, I nearly broke J.D. Damon's back in the Invitational, and I'm not afraid to break you either. And don't worry, I did my research on you, and you know what I see? I see a Jacob Striker carbon-copy who traded being a rock-n-roller for being Gordon Ramsay. Sure, you trained with Stephanie Matsuda, so you've got skill, but if you think that you are going to keep me down, you're sadly mistaken! Don't you see, Ryo, I cannot afford to keep going down the path I'm on. I need to beat you!"

The look on his face is one of desperation and anger as he catches his breath.

"...because I am the Knight in Shining Armor this industry desperately needs.... not Jeff, not Havoc, not Chris Sabretooth, and least of all, you.""

With that, he shoves the camera away from him, letting it fall to the ground with a thunk. Despite the cracked lens however, we once again see a shadowy figure looking down at it with a grin.