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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:06:52 GMT -5
OOWF MidWeek Mayhem Live! From South of the Border, South Carolina April 23, 2014
Non-Title Match Alexis Darling vs. Firewoman
Non-Title Weapons on a Pole Match Banned From Everywhere vs. IHOP
Best of Five Series - Match 5: Stips TBA Alexander Darling vs. Danny Taylor
Winner Gets an Onslaught Title Shot at the Pay Per View Miranda Williams vs. Chris Evans vs. Shane Tuska
Christian Carter & Stan Fulton vs. Mai Muyo & Ecosystem Saints of Sinners vs. Murphy's Law & Tommy Wilder Suicide Kings & Stank vs. Texpress & Power Ghosthead vs. Rory Albright
card subject to Steve Spurrier recruiting violations
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:07:19 GMT -5
<GM Nate walks into his office with a heavy sigh and sees Eric O'Mac sitting there, at his desk, with his feet propped up>
GMN: Can I help you?
EOM: I saw the brawl earlier......looks like you run this place with an iron fist
GMN: If history is correct, you were involved in more than a few of those out of control brawls in days gone by, you know damn well there is not a person alive that can control this locker room all the time
EOM: <smirking> I wouldn't be so sure of that
GMN: What do you want Eric? You looking for a job? Well, we.....
EOM: No, no.....nothing like that. I am currently comfortably employed. I came here to discuss the OOWF
<Eric gets to his feet and hands GM the Nate a piece of paper and heads for the door, Nate takes a look at it and turns toward Eric>
GMN: You have GOT to be kidding
EOM: We don't kid
<Eric smirks and walks out the door, as he gets in the hall he runs into SFJ21>
SFJ21: Eric O'Mac! Are you back in the OOWF? What are you doing here?
EOM: Just discussing some business
SFJ21: What kind of business?
EOM: There are some questions better left unasked
<Eric straightens his tie and turns and walks away and we fade to black>
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:07:36 GMT -5
Fire looks at the card for next week, and an evil smile breaks across her face.
Well, well, well, little Lexie gonna step up to the big leagues, but won't put the belt on the line. Color me not surprised.
To the camera
Hey, lover. You wanna prove you're not in anyone's shadow? Then step on up and defend the championship. Prove that you deserve it. Because right now, you don't.
Fire smooches the camera lens and then shoves it away.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:08:14 GMT -5
We fade into a beach in Sydney Australia and see Matt and Jaime taking a stroll. Jaime's a bit slow and stiff yet but thankfully otherwise healthy. They take a break to sit in the sand and watch the sunset.
MF: I can see why you raved about growing up here, it's absolutely beautiful.
JF: It is. Can I ask you something?
MF (Smiles): The answer is yes, I am still madly in love with you and worship the ground you walk on.
Jaime shakes her head.
JF: I want a serious answer... Why are we here?
MF: So you can recover in warm weather and around your family and friends. I thought we covered this?
JF: And after that?
Matt shrugs.
MF: Not a bad place to retire here. Maybe 6 months here, 6 months in Green Bay? I love my hometown as much as you love yours.
JF: So you're serious. You're just going to quit out of the blue, no warning. In the prime of your career?
MF: I haven't announced anything yet, but not unprecedented. I'm 33. Jim Brown, Sandy Koufax and Barry Sanders all retired at 30 and they were all at the top of their games. Michael Jordan was also 30 when he 'retired' for the first time, but you'll never convince me that that whole thing wasn't secretly a suspension for gambling.
JF: Hi, focus, conversation with your wife here. Stop being the Sports Guy for a minute and tell me the reason.
MF: I don't want this no more, don't need it no more.
JF: If you're out because you want to be out, then I support you. But ever since we met you have always told me the truth. So, look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.
MF: I'm just done.
JF: WHAT'S THE TRUTH DAMMIT??!!
MF: I'M AFRAID! YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT!
JF: Afraid of what? Carter?
MF: Fuck no, Motherfucker still can't and hasn't beat me fairly.
JF: Then what?
MF: I failed. I promised you I'd always protect you and I fucking failed. EVERY God damn instinct I had told me to get you out of town before the match. Hell, I practically dared Carter to try something. I caused this... that's why I haven't slept since that night and that's why I can't hardly look your parents in the eye. I swore to always be there for you, to protect you, and I fucked up. I'm afraid if I go back.... we got lucky this time, what if next time you don't wake up, or you end up losing all feeling below the neck permanently? No, I can't, I won't take that chance again. I'm out, done. Besides, this isn't the life for you anyway.
JF: I hate to break this to you dear, but I Loved our life. I love traveling around the world with the man I love, I love going to dinners with Mai and the rest of the amazing women in the company... and most of all I love getting to watch the best wrestler on the planet go in the ring and kick ass every Wednesday. Am I pissed off about what happened to me? Of course. But I don't blame you for it one iota, or consider you some kind of failure as a husband. And if you let Christian fucking Carter, a man who's not even worthy of shining your damn boots, drive you out of the company... that will be the biggest tragedy of this whole situation. So do me a favor ok?
MF: What?
JF: Just think about this decision for a few days. If you still feel like retiring on Monday.... I support you.
Folz nods as the camera..... FADES
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:08:40 GMT -5
Rory Albright and Tuska enter the locker room after their victory, flanked by Carrie Weiss. Albright offers his hand, and Tuska shakes, his eyes cast to the floor. Albright and Weiss continue down the hall, celebrating the victory. Tuska slumps to the floor and covers his ears. His eyes are closed.
SFJ33 enters timidly, making her way silently toward Tuska, seemingly unsure if she should approach the slumped competitor.
SFJ33: Shane? ...Mr. Tuska?
Tuska says nothing, but his hands slowly uncover his ears and move to the floor. He opens his eyes, but keeps his gaze downward.
SFJ33: That was an impressive showing for your OOWF debut. Care to comment?
Silence.
SFJ33: Your thoughts on Rory Albright, your partner this evening?
Tuska nods.
SJF33: Mr. Tuska, your path to the OOWF has been tumultuous to say the least. Details have been emerging throughout the week that seem to suggest that you are, for lack of a better phrase, a man with nothing to lose, no ties to... well, anything. What brought you here? What led you to OOWF?
Tuska shakes his head and grimaces. Without warning, he's on his feet and mere centimeters from SFJ33's face. She barely has time to register a response before his hand snatches the microphone from hers. He slowly raises it to his lips, and with venom in his words, whispers:
Tuska: Silence... is... golden.
Tuska drops the microphone and abruptly leaves. SFJ33 looks at the camera confused as we fade to black.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:09:06 GMT -5
<the Saints are in their locker room, doing their usual post-Mayhem drinking when they see Shane Tuska's promo. They all watch it in silence>
LD: That is one spooky cat
Stank: He looked damn good in his match tonight. Jack, you talked to Jake about him, right?
MHJ: Yeah, Jake said he was legit. Damn good in the ring, and damn crazy in the head too
Stan: Sounds like perfect Saint material
Chloe: Maybe we should welcome Mr. Tuska to the OOWF
<Chloe looks at Moose, who sits there and rewatches the promo several times>
LD: He doesn't seem to be a man of many words......
MHJ: No.....the man has something to say.....A LOT to say.....but it is going to be on his terms. And when he does.........probably best to be on his good side......if such a side exists
<the rest of the Saints nod and go back to drinking and we fade to black>
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:09:27 GMT -5
As the Saints continue thier post-show celebration, Christian Carter comes walking in...
ST: Carter! Welcome my man...
CC: Lucas...
Carter gives the hug/shake to Stank and LD, Chloe just blushes as he kisses her hand. He see's Stan Fulton, who seems to be in his own part of the room, and walks over to Moose, who has a bottle of Jack and a cigar in his hand.
MHJ: Mr. Carter, what a unexpectant suprise...what do we owe the pleasure of our world champion?
CC: You know, just want to celebrate with the crew?
MHJ: You are a bad liar Ryan...
Jack calling Carter by his real name, show's Carter Jack knows him all too well.
CC: Well, I wanted to talk with Stan for a bit...
MHJ: Ah...the tag match...You know, when ever you want a tag partner, I'll tag with ya...just like that first night...
CC: Nate will never let that happen...could you imagine the carnage we would endure on our opponents?
MHJ: Still...btw thanks for the call...
CC: No problem...give me a sec, I'll be right back...
Moose nods as Carter walks to Fulton. He stands in front of him as Fulton speaks...
SF: What do you want Carter?
CC: I'm assuming you heard about next week?
SF: Yup, looks as if we're teaming against the Mia and Juni...
CC: Listen, I know you don't like me, hell I'm not fond of you either Stan, but we have a common bond you and I.
SF: How's that? Because you were a Saint? Remember that was before me...
CC: Yeah, it is, but I've been in your position...I've been right where you are at, watching the four of them, thinking the same thing your thinking right now...
SF: Yeah, and what is that?
CC: If you actually belong here...with the Saints...
Stan looks at him...Carter wasn't as dumb as he thought...he nods to him a bit...
CC: Trust me when i say this, YOU belong, just like I did...I had to leave to realize that...but let me tell you, that man will treat you with the utmost respect, and he will the be the best thing you have going right now...
Stan continues to look at him...
CC: Stan, you are a Saint...one of the most dominate groups to ever grace the OOWF...and you are a dominate man, and our match we had was probably the worst beating I've endured in the past year. And for that I respect you...but this isn't a time for us the relive the past...right now, we have to end the Muyo's...
SF: Don't under estimate Juni and Mai...There's a reason why she was the IC champ as long as she was, and why Juni has held that Onslaught title...they are tough...it won't be easy...
CC: It never is...come on, let's go celebrate with our bretheren...
Stan nods in approval, as Carter stretches his arm out to help him up. Stan grabs it, and gets up, and shake Carters hand...the camera fades as they go to the rest of the Saints.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 8:52:44 GMT -5
~~~ Fade into the back lot of the South of the Border VFW Hall, Barber Shop & Dry Cleaners, this week;s home of the OOWF Arena. The Texpress Express bus pulls up & we see Chad, Zane & Bridgette step off & stretch as they retrieve their bags from the luggage compartment. Zane speaks to the driver for a few moments & they start to head into the arena.
In the distance ahead, two big black SUVs pull in in front of them. The security team steps out and surveys the area. One sees Chad, Zane & Bridgette approaching and puts his hand to his hip, but the second guard recognizes them and backs him down.
They open the doors of one SUV and out steps Sunny Hamid & Edra Neal. They gather some belongings from inside the vehicles, and are heading in as Chad, Bridgette & Zane reach the SUVs.
Chad: Ladies. Nice short trip this week.
Edra: There are certainly worse ones to make.
Bridgette: Amen to that.
Chad: So.....
Edra: Yeah....
~~~ An awkward silence hovers for a moment. of all people, Zane breaks it. ~~~
Zane: Enough small talk. Edra, Chad and I will be in the Spin Hansen Memorial Training Center at 2. We have a 2 hour block scheduled. you are invited to come and we can work on some timing issues.
Power: Sure . Thanks.
Chad: I have a great idea for us to use.
Power: Great. we can talk about it in the ring.
Bridgette: Well un til then, I have an appointment with a day spa. (She turns to Sunny) Shug, why don't you join me? Facials, Mani-pedis, a massage & three hours of not talking or thinking about wrestling at all?
~~~ Sunny and Edra exchange glances, Edra nods slightly ~~~
Sunny: I'd love to.
Bridgette: Great! Hon, I'll meet you our here in an hour or so and we'll make an afternoon of it.
Zane: Enough chit chat. We need to take this stuff to the dressing rooms.
Chad: And I'm starving. Can't be at my best on an empty stomach. I'm going to find Miranda & head to Ric's Sandwich Shoppe, a subsidiary of Grand Slam North, LLC.
Zane: Did you just promote Fulton's company?
Chad: I didn't mean to, maybe that was part of his takeover clause...... Weird.
~~~ Everyone heads inside and we Fade ~~~
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 20:31:23 GMT -5
*Stank walks over and sits across from Stan Fulton. Stan has a far away look in his eyes as he and Stank sit in silence for several moments before Stank speaks.*
Stank - Stan?
*Fulton does not at first acknowledge Stank's address and seconds tick by before he stirs himself from his thoughts and stares at Stank as if for the first time.*
SF - Stank? Hey. I didn't see you there.
Stank - You don't seem happy.
SF -
Stank -
SF - I'm not.
Stank - Talk to me.
*Crusher looks at Stank a moment or two before dropping his head and staring at the floor in silence.*
Stank - You're not having second thoughts about joining the Saints, are you?
SF - What? No... no, not really.
Stank - Not really?
*Fulton looks up from the floor.*
SF - I didn't mean that. I'm not having any doubts.
Stank - Is this about what Juni said? Fuck him. His shit diatribe was spoken like a man who just got his ass kicked.
SF - No it's not about Ecosystem... at least not about what he said.
Stank - Then what?
*Before Fulton can answer they are both distracted by a weak knock on the Saint's locker room door. Chloe answers and standing in the doorway is Ghosthead sans facepaint, a stoic look on his face with a deep sadness in his eyes. Stank rises to his feet and walks over to greet his brother, as the rest of the Saints look on.*
Stank - Red? What's up?
Ghost - I need to speak with you.
Stank - So speak.
*Ghosthead grabs Stank by the wrist and yanks him outside of the Saint's locker room. He then shuts the door as Stank pulls his hand away.*
Stank - Jesus Red, what?
Ghost - Mother.
Stank - !
Ghost - Why haven't you answered your phone?
Stank - It's charging! What about mom?
Ghost - She's had a heart attack.
Stank - Oh fuck.
Ghost - She's fine. Our sister and my wife are with her now.
Stank - Gotdammit Jared, you fucking scared me.
Ghost - Apparently she had the heart attack upon hearing...
Stank -
Ghost -
Stank - Hearing what, Red?
*A tear runs down Ghosthead's face as a rush of rarely seen emotion flushes across his visage. Ghost fights back more tears and struggles, but regains his composure quickly. This scares Stank more than almost anything he's ever seen.*
Stank - Gotdammit Jared, WHAT!
Jared - ... my son is dead.
Stank -
Jared -
Stank - ... no.
Ghost - It.. .it.. was an accident.
Stank -
Ghost - I'm flying out to Japan, tonight.
Stank - I'm going with you.
Ghost - No. You need to be with mother.
Stank - No. I need to be with you.
Ghost - ... I don't-
*Stank interrupts through gritted teeth and teary eyed blurred vision.*
Stank - Do not FIGHT me on this, Red... I'm going.
Ghost - ... Very well. We shall return by Wednesday.
Stank - I don't give a damn about Wednesday right now.
Ghost - Torao's death changes nothing. The fight continues and I will be there to fulfill it.
Stank - I'm going to chalk that up to the grief talking. I'll meet you at your car in fifteen minutes. Don't you fucking dare leave without me.
Ghost - I will not.
*Stank enters back inside the Saint's locker room as the camera fades to black.*
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 20:32:17 GMT -5
Tommy Wilder is walking down the Hall of Interviews backpack over one shoulder, headed to the parking lot. He still has a noticeable limp…
RFJ #2 – Tommy, you just arrived at the arena – where are you headed?
TW: Gonna do something about this knee. Too many people targeting it. Yeah, part of the game, I expected it, but does't mean I have to live with it. I know someone here in the Carolinas that does acupuncture, joint manipulation etc. Dude is a miracle worker. Gonna go see him. I'll be back in time for the show.
Anyhoo – I need to say goodbye to some folks before I jet. Later!
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 17, 2014 20:32:52 GMT -5
(It's right after the show as Miranda and Power are heading toward GM Nate's office to see the lineup for next week's Mayhem. An impatient Sunny follows with the bodyguards trailing)
Power: That was so much fun! The first win I've gotten without my crazy sister interfering. Sorry it had to be against you.
Miranda: Don't be silly, it was a clean win. Maybe now you can get another title match.
Power: We'll see.
(They all look at the posting on the door. Miranda is about ready to burst while Power looks non-plussed. Sunny...smirks, then quickly catches herself and gets a sad look on her face.)
Sunny: Oh congratulations, Miranda, you get a chance at an Onslaught Title match!
Miranda: I know, and Power gets to work with Chad and Zane. I'm SO jealous.
Power: Well, I guess this is where we see if we've buried the hatchet or not.
Miranda: Don't worry, it'll be just fine.
Sunny: (putting her arms around Power) Yes it will, helping your friends out again. Let's go get a shower for you, love!
Miranda: Yeah, we'll catch up...
(Sunny leads a sad Power off before Miranda can finish. The scene fades to the Saints Party. Christian Carter is saying farewell to everyone and he spots Chloe sitting away from the rest, slamming back shots of Jamesons. Carter walks over and touches Chloe's shoulder.)
Carter: Miss Neal.
Chloe: Mister Carter.
Carter: You seem … troubled?
Chloe: (smirking) Troubled, hell. I'm just batchit crazy. Still, it bothers me when someone else gets what I should get.
Carter: And that is...
Chloe: Your special friend getting a shot at Fire. I should have that.
Carter: Lisa is ducking you. I can talk to Nate again. As the World Heavyweight Champion...
Chloe: (interrupting) No, thank you Christian. I just need to make an example of all her friends. If I need anything, I'll ask.
(Carter takes Chloe's hand and kisses it. She smiles broadly but then her face turns dark.)
Chloe: Don't you have a bedwarmer to get to?
Carter: Chloe, don't think...
Chloe: I know, it's business. (Standing up and getting thisclose to Carter and speaking very softly, eerily, dark but smiling very sexily) But I know how you are when it comes to mixing Business with Pleasure, right, Christian?
Carter: Chloe, I....
Chloe: You called me a temptation. I don't think anyone really wants to know how much of a temptation, do you? Especially your new...”business partner”. I'm sure there's a lot of mixing there.
Carter: Chloe, I don't...
Chloe: Oh, don't worry, Carter. Have your fun with Fire and Alex. Just don't do anything that'll make me angry. (Strokes his cheek with the hand with the cast on it) You of all people remember what it's like to make me angry. (Kisses Carter on the cheek) See ya later, Champ.
(The smile drops from Chloe's face as she sits down, turns away from Carter, and returns to her Jamesons. Carter uncomfortably slips out of the gathering. Chloe runs her fingers through her long colored red hair.)
Chloe: I've gotta find a beauty parlor to get this touched up.
(Chloe dispenses with the glass and finished the roughly third of the bottle left as the camera fades)
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:18:25 GMT -5
LD Williams and Chloe are walking out of the arena toward the parking lot….
Chloe: Hey, thanks for giving me a lift into town…
LD: No problem. I gotta go pick up supplies anyway. Liquor store, cigar shop, pharmacy…
Chloe: Pharmacy?
LD: Yeah, thought I would get a nice set of crutches for Wilder. You know, a gift.
Chloe: (Laughs) Oh, I could watch you and Stank beat on those white hats all night. (Chloe giggles and hugs herself)
LD: Yeah, maybe I better stretch the next match out for a while then. Might be Skate Boy’s las… WHAT THE FUCK???
Camera pans over to show a helmeted figure on top of a motorcycle… perched on top of LD William’s 2010 red Ford Mustang GT.
LD: Are you out of your FREAKING MIND? Get off of there and I’ll beat your ass!
Figure flips up the visor to show… yup. Tommy Wilder!
TW: Hey, LD! How’s it hanging, dude?
Chloe: I’m gonna cut you up into tiny, little…..
TW: Hush, Crazypants. Let some voice other than the ones in your head talk…
LD takes a step toward Wilder, picking up a convenient pipe as he does – Then Wilder revs the engine of the bike!
TW: Hey now! You might startle me! I would have to drive off of this really nice car… fast.
LD stops, staring daggers at Wilder…
TW: See? We can be reasonable. I’m here to thank you, man!
Chloe: What, you like getting hurt?
TW: AW... Now that was just mean. No, I want to thank LD for making me realize that I was holding back. And that it was OK if I didn’t! I mean, realized that I could get crazy without turning into… well… that. (points at Chloe). So this week, everyone gets to meet a new, improved, CRAZIER Tommy Wilder. In and out of the ring.
LD: Yeah, yeah. Been there, heard that, beat those guys before. Let me ask you – what makes you think I’m gonna let you make it to Wednesday?
TW: ‘Cause you’ll be real busy.
LD: With what?
TW: BODYWORK.
Suddenly, Tommy guns the motor, smoking the back tire on top of the Mustang! LD absolutely loses his shit, as Chloe screams as she produces her branding iron and tries to jam itin the cycle’s spokes – but Wilder hops the bike, making the iron miss its mark (and leaves a 6 inch scratch in the paint), and Wilder hops the bike onto the windshield, shattering it, then he hops and peels out on the hood to the ground.
LD roars is anger, and tries to grab Wilder, but Tommy swings the bike in a wide arc, spraying gravel at LD and Chloe! They cover their faces as Wilder swings the bike around over and over, then he flies down the road!
“See you guys at MAAAAYHEMMMMMM!”
As the dust clears, the camera shows both LD and Chloe, clothes torn, cuts scrapes all over recovering on the ground from the barrage… then the camera pans to the car, which looks like someone unloaded a machinegun at it. Windows shattered, body dents and scraped, lights and mirrors busted…
Fade…
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:18:43 GMT -5
The scene opens on a small, dimly lit room. It's fairly nondescript. To the left is a folding chair, occupied by Shane Tuska, dressed in a grey Army PT shirt and brown pants. He's slumped in he chair, his eyes half open, directed at the floor, unmoving. The words Seven Months Ago appear on the bottom of the screen. From off camera comes a voice...
Voice: Shane, since this will be our last session, I'd like to tell you some of the conclusions I've come to in our time together.
Tuska doesn't move or seem to register any response at all.
Voice: You've built thick walls all around yourself... Walls that keep other people out, and walls that keep -you- in. Your feelings, your anxieties, and your insecurities are held up, trapped. You haven't been particularly... responsive to treatment. You haven't tried to let me in, or anyone else for that matter. I think you can be helped, you just don't want to be. I've tried and tried, but you just hide behind these walls. You don't seem to want... ANYTHING.
Tuska doesn't move.
Voice: Shane, I think behind these walls, you're hurting. I mean, obviously you're hurting, just look at you. But I think you're hurting even more than you're letting on. I think there's levels to this pain that we haven't touched on yet.
Tuska doesn't move.
Voice: So what do you want to do Shane? Would you like to continue treatment? Would you like to continue these sessions? Or are you going through with this South American trip?
Tuska slowly straightens himself in his chair. His eyes open slightly and he raises his hands and spreads them out, as if to say "It is what it is."
Voice: I don't think underground fighting in third world countries or Colombia or wherever is an answer for you. For anyone! Shane, you've been all over the world looking for abuse. Can't you give legitimate psychological treatment a chance?
Tuska stares blankly off screen, no change in his demeanor.
Voice: What is it, Shane? What is it about getting yourself tangled in barbwire or thrown through the air that satiates you? Why is violence all that you've given yourself?
The interviewer's tone becomes more and more emphatic, until he finally seems to lose his composure as he yells:
Voice: What is it that you want, Shane?!
Tuska frowns. He leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. He points his finger out like an arrow at the person off camera. His teeth are clenched as he speaks just one word. Each syllable cuts the air like a rusty blade, though his voice is barely above a whisper.
Tuska: EVERYTHING.
He's on his feet in an instant, sending his chair tumbling backward. He storms off screen to the objections of the unseen interviewer. Sounds of a door being thrown open as the screen fades to black, save for one small line of static through the middle that shakes just so as a whispering voice foretells:
"Silence... is golden."
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:19:52 GMT -5
(Chloe Neal walks out of the Saints of Sinners locker room, disturbed by the events of the past few days. Her face is blank as she enters the training center. Several jobbers have been waiting for her. As she climbs into the ring a song starts playing...
A look of pure passion comes over Chloe's face as the first jobber comes after her. She dodges the charge but knees the jobber in the gut, then slams her hand with the cast on it into the small of the jobbers neck and he folds. Chloe flinches slightly but turns to meet the next jobber who pulls up short and tries some flying feet action. Chloe throws some kicks of her own, stunning the jobber, She pivots and lands a backhand chop with the hand with the cast on it. Jobber unconscious. Chloe drops to her knees holding her hand and the next jobber holds up. Suddenly Chloe leaps to her feet as if the pain had been dissipated. The confused jobber charges right into a kick to the knee. Chloe flips the jobber over, stands on the back of the knee, lifts the leg and stomps hard three times on the back of the knee. Chloe locks in a Figure Four leglock, then pounds on the knee with the hand with the cast, and the jobber taps frantically.
Chloe's face is flush with passion and begs the next jobber to go for it. He cautiously approaches, looking for a lock up. Chloe stops that crap with a Greco-Roman Eye poke. She throws the jobber into the ropes and swings for the fences with that cast...and the jobber folds. The trainers come into the ring and tell Chloe that this session is over. She pouts and walks out of the ring, back to the Saints of Sinners locker room. She enters and Stan Fulton is there going over emails.)
Stan: Chloe,that didn't take long.
Chloe: They just don't make em like they used to
Stan: (Looking at her cast) More blood?
Chloe: (Smirking) Yeah, just not the right persons. But she can't duck me forever.
Stan: Fire?
Chloe (Grabbing a beer and sitting down) I can't believe this is the same woman that fought beside the rest of them in the Five. She's lost it. And now, this ducking me, this dodging me, having it written into her contract...
Stan: What does Moose think?
Chloe: He just says not to underestimate her. But something's not right. We'll see what happens when I start making my moves.
Stan: Moves?
Chloe: All her friends will get hurt. Every one. Until I get what I want.
Stan: Be careful what you want...
Chloe: She embarrassed me. She humiliated me. Everyone thinks she's so good. The truth must be told. Firewoman is dead, and I must end her.
Stan: That's a tall order.
Chloe: The fact that she refuses to get into the ring with me proves that she knows that I am better than she is. I will best her, I will humiliate her, and she will go back to her haunted home...as one of the ghosts. Trust me.
(Chloe stands up and heads to her room. Stan just shakes his head as the cameras fade. )
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:20:32 GMT -5
*Spencer and Ashley are struggling to carry a very large box into the Destroyitarium. DK sees them and grabs the box, looking a little surprised by the weight*
SD: Hey Dee! You got a package from Australia.
*DK carries the box over to the bar, where Daniella is cutting up lemons and limes. DK takes a jacknife out of his pocket, as the package is heavily sealed with tape*
Dee (in a broad Australian accent): That's not a knife...
*She uses a large carving knife to slice open the tape. She is uncharacteristically cheerful in appearance, like a kid on Christmas morning*
Dee: Presents from Wally! And just in time!
*She pulls out 2 small canisters and hands them to the Darlings*
Dee: Industrial grade mace, much stronger than pepper spray.
*She pulls out white boxes with red crosses on them*
Dee: State of the art first aid kits. Some of this stuff is very sophisticated, so we'd better review the instructions before we need them.
*She peers into the box*
Dee: Sweet. Heavy duty flashlights, night vision goggles, smoke bombs, flares, tasers,and military-grade body armor! Very lightweight and flexible. Wally must have really had to pull some strings, especially to get stuff big enough for Danny. I just hope I can persuade him to wear it. I mean, it's not a weapon.
DK: Um, Dee, are you and Wally planning an invasion or something.
Dee: Sort of. Eventually we may have to go to the parking lot.
*Everyone else looks puzzled*
Dee: Do you guys not remember what happened the first time the OOWF came here?
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:20:54 GMT -5
We cut to an exhausted Ghosthead in Japan, going through the usual stack of sympathy cards. He opens an envelope postmarked from Australia and pulls out a hand written letter.
"Jared,
It's no secret that I don't have a great affinity for either you or your brother, but right now that doesn't matter. While I don't have children of my own and can't say I know exactly what you're going through, I do believe that no parent should ever have to bury their own son. Please know that you and your family are in our thoughts and prayers.
Matthew Robert Folz Jaime Folz"
FADE
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:21:22 GMT -5
OOWF TV catches Tommy Wilder at what appears to be a alternative therapy clinic... parts unknown...
TW: You know, in all the craziness the last couple of weeks, I missed something. Stuff I shouldn't have missed.. totally uncool.
TW: Folz. Matt... What happened to Jamie? Man... That was over the edge. I hope she is doing better, dude. She is one of the class acts. Hope you leave a little something of the 'Kings left when you get back. But get better first, 'K? When you do, first 'bull is on me.
Ghost. Damn. I got no words. I got know idea what you are going through, what you are feeling. But you got my sympathies, man. Seriously. Keeping you and yours in my thoughts.
Stank: We got a history. Doubt anything is gonna change that anytime soon. But man, Ghost's son was your family. You got my good vibes too.
Sometimes, we gotta remember - past the titles, the feuds, the sweat and blood... there's people. You all take care of yourselves.
Fade
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:21:47 GMT -5
Firewoman is EMERGING~! from her temple room. The door is left slightly ajar, and Miranda peeks in to see two white novena candles burning, one on a table decorated in black and purple, and the other on one that is red, white, and black. Fire sits gingerly down on the sofa, and adjusts the icepack that sits over her right lower ribcage.
FW: Before you ask, they are for Lucas's mother and nephew.
MW: But why on different--
FW: The black and purple table is for the ancestors and the Ghede, who help guide newly um...well, deceased souls under the water. The red, black and white is for Papa Legba, as he is the one guards, among other things, the gateway between life and death.
MW: Oh....It's weird that you two are friends, but almost always on opposite sides.
FW: We are weird people.
MW: Like, my dad asking you to train me even though--
FW: No offense, Miranda, but I don't really want to rehash ancient history right now. Some friendships transcend whatever alignments one may have.
Fire glances towards what would usually be Alexis's door.
FW: Some do not.
MW: I'm surprised she hasn't said anything.
FW: Heh, I'm not. She knows I'm right. She knows if she put the belt on the line then I would take it from her. We've always had this 'who's better' rivalry going.
MW: Who is better?
FW: Well, of course I think I am. But, it could go either way on any given day. But, this goes past that...I broke a promise to her that I made a long time ago, when we were all different people, in different circumstances. I thought she was over it, but...
MW: What was that?
FW: *smirking* Are you writing a book or something?
MW: No, I just...I haven't seen you for a few days.
FW: Oh...yeah, just kinda...taking it easy I guess. *Fire adjusts her icepack, wincing a bit* Training early before people get up and then--
MW: Chloe says you're in hiding, ducking her.
FW: *smirking, but less convincingly* She would.
MW: She says she's going to hurt all your friends..
FW: *her smirk fades* Yeah, I saw.
Fire has been staring kind of absent-mindedly straight ahead, but then she turns and grabs Miranda by the chin and forces their eyes to lock.
FW: Listen to me. I promised your dad and your very scary grandmother I would keep you safe, at least out of the ring. I intend to keep that particular promise, so if you see or hear or even SMELL Chloe coming, you head the opposite direction. Just stay out of her way.
MW: *jerking her face away* I am a WILLIAMS, we don't hide from--
FW: Blah blah blah, yeah right. Just do it.
Miranda scowls and storms off to her room. Firewoman goes back to staring absentmindedly into space.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:22:43 GMT -5
*Megumi Ishikawa, the mother of Torao Mann, Ghosthead's son, leads Stank, Ghosthead, and family down the neon lit streets of Tokyo Japan. It has been two nights since the funeral and the mood is somewhat upbeat considering. Shannon Mann, Ghosthead's wife, walks silently by Stank with her arms crossed. Simone Mann, Stank and Ghosthead's sister, has her arm interlocked with Ghosthead's as the group continues down the busy street, the cool night air, the buzz of electricity everywhere, the smells of various street food, the sounds of J-Pop at every other corner, it's all a bit chaotic.*
Stank - You know you guys probably should not have come.
Shannon - Your mom insisted, Lucas. She nearly had another heart attack pushing us out the hospital door.
Stank - Sounds like her.
Shannon - Have you talked to her?
Stank - Briefly last night. I didn't want to keep her up. Just told her the funeral was nice and that everyone is holding themselves together pretty well.
Shannon - Are we?
Stank - Yeah... I think so.
Shannon - I can't tell. Jared hasn't said one word to me. I'm not pushing it though... I understand.
Stank - He hasn't said anything to me either, but I saw him and Meg talking earlier and they seemed to be in good spirits. He was actually smiling- ... ... sorry.
Shannon - It's okay. She's the mother of his child.
Stank -
Shannon -
Stank -
Shannon - Where are we going?
Stank - I don't know. Meg wanted to take Red somewhere. Simone insisted on going along and roped us into going with them. This is her first time in Japan.
Shannon - I could tell on our ride into Tokyo.
Stank - Red and I didn't spend a lot of time in this part of the city. I have no idea where we are going.
*The Manns briefly lose Megumi as the crowd has grown noticeably larger. Ghosthead turns, reaches for Shannon, and takes her hand as he pulls his wife and sister through the crowd. Stank pushes his way through and it suddenly dawns on him that the crowd of mostly young people are addressing him and his brother. Stank catches up with his family in a clearing in front of a brilliantly lit building with a familiar logo.*
Meg - This is club SEGA. One of three. I used to bring Torao here every other weekend when he was younger. Sometimes he would skip school and come here with his friends, these three young boys and the young lady.
*A group of young pre teens step forward from the crowd, and respectfully bow at Ghosthead and Stank.*
Meg - They happen to be fans of the OOWF. I suspect many in this crowd are also fans.
Stank - Yeah. Thanks Meg for this.
Meg - No you misunderstand. They want to pay their respects. Torao was very popular here. This is his best friend Kaname. His father manages this arcade. Jared he wants to show us something.
*A thirteen year old, Japanese, boy walks up to Ghosthead and bows. Ghosthead returns the bow with one of his own. The boy then gestures that they should follow him, which the Manns, and as many of the crowd that can fit, do.
The noise inside is intense, an almost overwhelming electronic orchestra of midi melodies, button mashing, house music, and giggling patrons. The group proceeds several escalators up to the 4th floor where they come across a bank of "Mario Kart" arcade games. The boy points out the high score of one of the games and tells the group that the score belongs to Torao and that the score has held for over a year.
They all eventually end up on the darkened 6th floor where one game appears to be featured over the rest. A crowd is gathered around it along with some who appear to be press. They snap photos of Stank and Ghosthead as they arrive much to Stank's annoyance, but he doesn't protest too much. An official steps away from the game and approaches the Manns. He bows to Megumi Ishikawa first then to the Manns. The boy explains in Japanese that the official is his father Ken Hirai, the manager of Club Sega and that he has something to show Ghosthead. Ken leads the group to a private back room where an arcade game stands called "Tiger's Tale". Tears immediately flow freely from Megumi eyes. Jared absentmindedly explains to Shannon and Simone that his son's name means Tiger's tail in Japanese. Ken explains further speaking in a combination of Japanese and broken English. *
Ken - Your son helped my son and I develop this videogame. It is the story of a young tiger's journey to find his father.
*Ghosthead and Stank walk up to the game and see on the screen a side scrolling game with a cartoony looking tiger cub running along, deftly hopping over and sliding under various obstacles, as he dispatches enemies along the way with beautifully illustrated background 3D graphics. A page worth of Japanese characters fade in and out then eventually scroll from right to left as the screen fades to black with only the characters remaining visible.*
Stank - My reading of Kanji has never been that good, Red.
Ghost - It is a dedication to my son for all his hard work on this game.
*Ghosthead turns around and bows toward Ken speaking in Japanese.*
Ghost - I am honored by this. Domo arigato gozaimasu.
Ken - Dou itashimashite. I have one more thing to show you.
*Ken leads the group back out in the main hall of the 6th floor. The crowd parts allowing Megumi and the Manns to walk up to the featured game in the middle. There are two individuals playing making wild use of the motion sensor the game obviously employs. Upon closer inspection Stank notices that the game has exaggerated Kanji symbols and the OOWF logo printed all over it. He looks at the screen and sees one player is playing as himself and the other is playing as Ghosthead each represented on their individual half of a very large split screen. The kid playing as Ghosthead appears to be winning against the adult playing as Stank. This brings a smile to Ghosthead's face.*
Stank - Aw C'mon! I would never fall for a move like that! Hit HIM!
Simone - Is this licensed?
Stank - Always the business woman, huh? Actually... you might bring up a good point- .... I SAID HIT HIM!
*The man playing as Stank does his best, but he eventually succumbs to PHANTASMAGORIA! The word SPLASHES across the screen in Kanji and English as Stank's character holds for a few seconds before tapping out. The live crowd gathered around laughs and cheers. Ghosthead stands watching with his arms crossed and a smug grin. Stank ain't having any of it. He walks up and playfully shoves the man off the platform, the assembled Japanese press make sure to get photos of Stank as he tries to figure out the game.*
Stank - Move out the way and let me show you how this game is played!
Simone - Uh Lu... have you played it before?
Stank - Can't be that hard. Who wants to play me?
*Stank repeats the question loudly in Japanese and a cute fourteen year old Japanese girl takes up the challenge much to the delight of the crowd. Stank laughs then chooses Christian Carter. The girl chooses Firewoman.*
Stank - Aw shit. It's on now.
*The girl proceeds to school Lucas Mann on the fine art of playing "OOWF World Tour" as she soundly kicks Stank's ass when Firewoman ends Christian Carter with the BEST FIRESAULT EVER! Again the finisher's name splashes across the screen before the referee sprite counts along with the live crowd 1.. 2... THREE!*
Stank - This game is clearly rigged.
*Ghosthead stares at the screen as a parade of scenes scroll across showing various OOWF superstars dispatching one another and still images with various stats. The screen shows Christian Carter as the OOWF World Champion and Ghosthead's light mood changes.*
Ghost - We should be getting back. Our flight leaves tomorrow.
Stank - You don't want to play?
*Ghosthead looks at the game and the joy of the folks in the room. This has so far been quite the reprieve given the events of the last few days, but in his mind he does not want to lose perspective.*
Ghost - ... I will pass.
Fade
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:23:56 GMT -5
FADE in on the Saints locker room. Fulton is there alone again, working on an iPad. His iPhone rings (yes, he’s an Apple fanboy okay?).
“Hello? No, Martha. You’re in charge now... The paperwork’s been filed and you are now President of the company... I’ll remain as CEO and Chairman... No, the road I travel now means the company must have a different face... Yes, that is you... I trust you implicitly... Keep Juni away from our assets... all of them... Whatever you have to... Alright, I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”
Fulton hangs up, leans back in the chair and sighs. The whirring of the hovering ninja-cam causes Fulton to crack one eye open and glance at it. Another sigh escapes and he sits up and opens his eyes, staring right at the camera.
“First things first. Jared, Lucas, my sincerest condolences. If there’s anything you need, let me know. My company’s private jet is at your disposal for you and your entire family.
“Second. Carter, you and I have rarely seen eye-to-eye on anything. Frankly I don’t like the way you and the Kings work. I especially take it personally when a very good friend of mine and the wife of another good friend of mine is hurt intentionally.
“But having said that, the booking committee in their less-than-infinite wisdom has paired us up this week. As our contracts state categorically that no-showing is a breach of said contract, I will be there in the corner this Wednesday night. However, know this. I do not like you. I do not trust you. Moose tells me to go out there and be your partner and I will. But that’s as far as things go.
“Our opponents are bound by blood. They know each other better than any tag team can. But there are weaknesses we can exploit. My detailed analysis has been uploaded to a Dropbox folder and a link has been sent to you. Study this. I have trained with both Mai and Juni. Though they have set aside their differences, not everything between the two of them is copacetic. We will divide and conquer.
“Third. I’m giving the booking committee until the end of Mayhem on May 14th. If by that time I am still drifting along doing nothing... being in no feuds... having no shot at any titles... I will submit my retirement papers. Then maybe I go spend my days in Australia taunting Matt with stories about Aaron Rodgers weak-ass collarbone. Or maybe I start managing the Saints.”
Fulton’s eyes narrow and he looks even more annoyed than usual. The following line is delivered very slowly and with much emphasis.
“Or I buy out the OOWF and run the damn company myself.”
Fulton sits back.
“I am a member of the Saints of Sinners. I am a OOWF Grand Slam champion. I deserve better than meaningless matches. Stank, you asked if I’m happy as a Saint. I am. I’m just not happy where I am in this company. Maybe my career is over. If so, I can look back on it and be proud of what I’ve accomplished. Most of it on my own and usually going against the judgment of those in charge.
“Think long and hard on this, OOWF suits. If you lose both Matt Folz and Stan Fulton in the same quarter your stock is going to plummet and your stockholders are going to be calling for your heads.
“It’s all about the Benjamins, baby.”
FADE
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:25:17 GMT -5
*Backstage Interview Area*
Quorra is standing with a microphone and over her left shoulder is the looming shadow of the Suicide Kings masked man. Alexis Darling walks up next to Quorra.
Lexie: Let's get this over with.
Quorra: Firewoman had some comments about your match this week and your reluctance to defend the Intercontinental Title.
Lexie: My reluctance. That's cute. My reluctance, if that's the word you feel like using, has nothing to do with what I want to do but with my opponent's place in this company right now.
Quorra: And what do you mean by that?
Lexie: It won't be defended against people who clearly aren't in my league anymore. At one time, she may have been worthy of a shot, but her time has long past. She is just a shell of her former self and I won't have this title dirtied or disrespected by someone like her. And it means this is the second most prestigious belt in this company and it won't be defended against people who are scared of clearly inferior talents.
Quorra: Won't that ruffle some feathers with the Kings alliance...
Lexie: There is no alliance. There is history and that's all it is. This is the Kings world and I am the Queen of the world. It won't be destroyed by blood. It won't be beaten by fear. It will thrive and we will reign. If anyone has an issue with that, the Kings will prove why we're the best.
Quorra: And what do you have to say to your brother?
Lexie: Not a damn thing. He's made his decisions. I've made mine. And this is where we are. I'm Alexis Darling. I'm a King. I'm a Queen. And I'm the OOWF Intercontinental Champ. This is our world. You're just living in it.
*Fade*
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:26:14 GMT -5
Somewhere on a beach near the South Carolina/North Carolina border, Rory Albright sits on the sand, with Carrie sitting between his legs, both watching the sunset.
RA: The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Someone said that once. That happened last week. Last week, I started my journey. I left my home, the beautiful state of Florida. Now, with just my girl and my raw, unceasing will, I'm on the road again.
That journey of a thousand miles? That long and winding road we all call life, our careers, whatever you want to call it; well, it became the beginning of the end for some of you.
You see, wrestling is much like a circus. You have your strong men, your pretty girls, your dancing monkeys, your clowns, your elephants, and your barkers. They all go out there, risk their lives, their careers, their bodies, their very souls. All for one thing. To entertain the masses. No matter what happens, no matter who gets hurt, no matter who wins... after the show, they all pack up and head to the next town to do it all over again.
Now it's my turn. It's my turn to join this crazy circus. There's just one difference.
Rory finally turns away from the sunset and glares at the camera, as does Carrie with a sly grin.
RA: I'm gonna burn the goddamn place to the ground. Just watch.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:31:04 GMT -5
Firewoman sees Alexis's promo and something appears to click.
Lucky: Fire...wait...Fire...no...FIRE!...NO!...FIRE!!
She slams out of the locker room and heads down the hall, probably towards the Kings.
L: You can't do this, Fire--
FW: Everyone keeps saying that, but I very fucking well CAN do this.
L: Not now, and not alone.
FW: I have you.
L: I'm not--
FW: Oh we both know that's bullshit and that if you ever decided to stop hiding behind a clipboard--
L: Still, two on .... however many there are is stupid.
FW: I like the odds, now--
Lucky sprints ahead and stops, turns, and holds a hand out so that Fire runs into it with her shoulder. Lucky is apparently stronger than he appears, although Fire makes an attempt to go through him.
FW: Not. Now.
L: Yes. Now. You want to ruin everything?
FW: I won't....
L: You will.
FW: ....
L: ....
FW: Fine...YOU....what's your name?
A metrosexual male journalist is standing with an INC, and turns white when he realizes she's talking to him.
MMJ: Um, it's Jake--
FW: Doesn't matter...Get your ass over here and ask me if I have comments about my DEAR SISTER-IN-LAW'S recent promo.
MMJ: I ... uh...
Lucky grabs the MMJ by the shoulder and manhandles him into position for the 'interview.'
MMJ: Um....I'm standing here with Firewoman, who appears to have something to say.
FW: Wow, they pay you for that?
Firewoman shoves him aside and grabs the INC with both hands so that she's looking right into it, through it, into someone's soul. Her rant begins, and she barely takes a breath in between the words, which are very fast and rapid-fire, and just this side of 'out of control.'
Not in your league anymore, Lexie? NOT IN YOUR LEAGUE? You're damn straight I'm not in your league. I am so far above your league that you couldn't get to me if you got up off your back and tried. You're talking to the first female Grand Slam Six Pack Champion in OOWF History, and one of the best that ever walked into that ring. Who the fuck do you think you are? IWA-Midsouth Women's Champion? Big fucking deal. Ten fucking people on the planet know what that is. Shimmer? Yeah, we had fun in Shimmer, but let's face it, ten people give a rat's ass about that two, and it might be the same ten people.
I'm not scared of your "talent" *and yes, she does the dickfingers thing*. Your talent isn't in the ring. Your talent is on riding people's coattails. You rode your brother's coattails to Japan, then hooked up with big daddy Poe. Then when that didn't work out you hitched yourself again to Alex into the OOWF. So you get some tag team gold, leaning on your partners, now you wanna brag about a championship you won with a Fingerpoke of Doom from yet another man you hooked your star to? Please...come see me when you ACTUALLY accomplish something on your own.
And while we're on the subject, yes, your brother DID make his choice, didn't he? And it wasn't YOU. Make no mistake, little Lexie, if I put my mind to it, your little "kingdom" would be mine, too. There's nothing you've EVER had that I couldn't take from you if I wanted it. And THAT is the real reason you won't put the championship on the line. You know it, I know it, the Saints DEFINITELY know it, and I think the Kings deep down know it.
You may be Alexis Fucking Darling, but I. Am. Firewoman. I strike terror among men. Heaven doesn't want me and hell's afraid I'll take over. You find me so hard to understand in your world. The world you perceive to be so normal. I am deformed, scorned, reborn, I am ME, and I know exactly who I am...what I am...and the wrath that I bring.
And Wednesday....you will too. Get ready to dance in the flames, bitch.
Firewoman smacks the INC out of her way so it hits the metrosexual male journalist upside the head, as she storms off.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:32:11 GMT -5
The scene opens on one of OOWF's intrepid metrosexual male journalists, seated across from a pleasant looking middle aged fellow with his hands unassumingly folded in his lap. This is Dell Petersen, an indy wrestling super fan and the Midwest's foremost indy wrestling historian. Previously OOWF viewers had been given a glimpse of Petersen's workshop/"museum", where he shared some photos of Shane Tuska from early in Tuska's career. Petersen exchanges pleasantries with the MMJ as the audio fades in.
MMJ: You're here today to talk about Tuska?
Petersen: That's right. I feel his portrayal on your program has been a tad vague, and I feel like I can shed some light on the man's... motivations.
MMJ: Please, Mr. Petersen, enlighten us. Tuska has proven illusive, to say the least.
Petersen shifts slightly in his seat, a more serious expression cast over his face.
Petersen: Shane Tuska is obviously a very tortured young man. He caused the car accident that took the lives of his young family, and it sent him over the edge that he had been teetering on for most of his adult life. Two tours in Afghanistan and whatever post-traumatic stress that goes with it compounded with the alcohol abuse he began not long into his wrestling career made for a troubling mix, the outcome of which is what your viewers have seen thus far. But there's a little more to Shane Tuska than meets the eye.
MMJ: Please, go on.
Petersen: Tuska was a ball of fire as a rookie... He tagged with Spider McNulty and very quickly rose through the ranks. They captured tag team gold together, which led to some Japanese bookings that Shane was unable to honor, as the accident happened right around that time.
Petersen clears his throat and his brows furrow.
Petersen: Tuska was on the brink, but rather than end it all or drown himself in a bottle, he decided on a different penance for his transgressions. He turned to wrestling, and dove in headfirst, as deeply as he could. He went to Mexico and immersed himself in the luchadore style. He allowed himself to be battered and bloodied for the knowledge, and then he took over. Once he acclimated, he fought his way to the championship of that promotion. He moved on to Japan to do the same thing. He trained in judo, and then in the puroreso style for a short time before he started doing the deathmatches... He won several tournaments there in Japan before he went to South America.
Petersen's eyes drop and he appears uncomfortable with his next thought.
MMJ: What happened in South America?
Petersen: Underground, "no holds barred" fighting... Illegal and populated by crooks and killers. I don't care for the stuff, and I don't have many contacts in that world, so I don't know a whole lot of what happened there, except that Shane emerged from that with a few more scars and a gym bag full of cash... Which he promptly used to buy his late family a beautiful monument and a standing order with a florist in Keokuk to deliver new flowers every month to the grave site.
MMJ: So, his motivation...
Petersen's pleasant features, a middle aged face kept young by his uncluttered life and his devotion to his fandom, sharpen. His eyes grow starkly serious.
Petersen: It would be easy for one to believe that Shane Tuska is a sadist, looking for physical pain to match the pain he carries inside of himself, but I believe differently. I believe that Shane Tuska lost his family, and decided that the only thing he had left was inside a wrestling ring. Pain, punishment... he doesn't mind that, because his ultimate goal, his ultimate motivation, is to rule the wrestling world. He doesn't just want a little of it. He wants it all. He's got nothing left, nothing at all to lose. So he thrust himself into this pursuit with every ounce of himself. Sure, it pains him to talk. It pains him to put himself on public display, under the lights and under the watchful gaze of all your cameras, but make no mistake. He decided that the only thing that matters in whatever is left of his life is being the greatest professional wrestler in the world. He doesn't have a deathwish. Surely, I don't think he'd mind if he died, but he will see to it that he dies in the ring, scraping and clawing for every accolade he can take in this industry. He doesn't just want a title shot, he wants a title belt hanging of both arms, shoulders, and however many he can fit around his waist. The man's not driven, he's... He's demon possessed and hellbent on conquering this business.
Petersen slumps backwards into his seat and takes a deep breath.
MMJ: Tomorrow night at Mayhem...
Petersen: Tomorrow night at Mayhem is just the first step. Those two folks getting in the ring with him need to know that he's willing to put himself through... anything to achieve his ends.
The camera pans back, and Petersen folds his hands back into his lap. He's worked himself up and seems to be trying to gather his calm. MMJ looks at his notes and then at the camera, as if to wrap up the interview, but Petersen leans forward briskly and interjects, his voice cracking with a kind of desperation.
Petersen: Please believe me when I tell you... He blames wrestling for his family's demise! His mission, his reason for being... is to make wrestling pay. He's bringing a reckoning down on the whole damned industry for causing the events that lead to the deaths of his wife and children. He is out for blood.
Petersen's voice cracks, and he sits back. He puts a hand to his face and tries to compose himself. The screen goes black.
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Post by BookerShark on Apr 25, 2014 9:33:02 GMT -5
<Moose, Chloe, LD and Stan are sitting in the Saints locker room just talking and drinking, when Christian Carter, Joey Reyna, Jason Allen and Alexis Darling walk in>
SF: What’s up champ?
CC: Mr. Fulton, Mr. Williams, Mrs. Neal <Carter takes Chloe’s hand and kisses it, Chloe blushes a little then turns away> Jack
LD: What brings the Kings to this neck of the woods?
CC: We wanted to offer our condolences to Mr. Mann. I understand we are not close, but still……
Chloe: It will be much appreciated, I’m sure
<the whole time this conversation is going on, Moose is sitting there puffing on a cigar, Moose and Alexis are staring daggers into one another, finally Carter and Chloe both notice>
Chloe: Jack?
CC: Mr. Quinn, I understand you and Alexis have a history……
<Moose smirks at this>
CC: …..but I am hoping we can bury the hatchet between the two of you and work together.
<Moose stares at Carter for a long time, then slowly gets to his feet and walks up to Alexis>
MHJ: So……how’s the neck?
<Alexis noticeably stiffens at that>
Lex: That is ancient history. I am now a King, the Queen of Kings……
MHJ: You are still a Darling
Lex: People change Moose, despite what you want to believe
MHJ: Bullshit. Until I see you do to your brother what you tried to do to me, I don’t believe a fucking word you have to say
Lex: <smirking> Maybe I should show your sister how much I’ve changed
MHJ: Sending a message through Fire…..let me know how that works out for ya
CC: Jack, I know you and Lexie…..and the whole Darling clan…..have had issues in the past but….
Lex: But that is in the past. I am not that person any longer. <extends her hand to Moose> we can start this all over again
MHJ: <eyeing Alexis for a moment, then moving in like he is going to shake her hand, but he stops short and looks her in the eyes> Not a fucking chance in hell
<Moose turns and walks out of the room and heads down the hall. As he rounds the corner he sees Stank and Ghost coming into the arena. Moose walks up to Stank and shakes his hand, and the two share a manly hug of manly manliness>
MHJ: You know
Stank: <shaking his head> I know
<Nothing more is said between them, but a mutual understanding seems to have passed from both of them. Moose looks at Ghost>
MHJ: Lucas is like my brother. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him. I don’t know you, but you are his kin, and because of that, mine. If there is anything I, or the Saints, can do for you……just say the words
<Ghost doesn’t say anything, he just nods at Moose. Jack and Ghost shake hands and they all go their separate ways. Moose walks into catering and grabs some coffee, notices Fire coming down the hall and orders one for her. They sit down at a table and sip quietly for a moment>
MHJ: She really pressed a button
FW: Who?
MHJ: Hi, I’m Moosehead Jack, I’m brand new here so I haven’t seen what OOWFtv and INC’s are, or how my sister lost her shit earlier and wanted to run into an ambush
<Fire’s face gets red with anger and she gets up and picks up a wooden chair and slams it to the ground shattering it. She grabs a jagged chair leg and heads toward the Saints locker room. Moose is right behind her, grabs her by the arm and spins her around, Fire raises the chair leg to hit him, but stops>
FW: Let go
MHJ: Nope
FW: LET. GO.
MHJ: NO
FW: Jackie, so help me I’ll……
MHJ: You’ll what? You’ll attack the one person who is keeping you from getting your ass handed to you? They’re all in that locker room, you would be crippled in no time
FW: I DON’T CARE! I AM GOING TO KILL THAT BITCH!
MHJ: <grabbing the chair leg from Fire and tossing it aside> Look, that…..bitch…..has all the backup she needs right now….
FW: Including you?
MHJ: What?
FW: Once a Saint, always a Saint, right?
MHJ: She was never, and never WILL be a Saint
FW: but Carter was
MHJ: Yeah, but Carter is not a Darling, Beside…..I just saw Stank get back…..you really want to bust in there NOW and start a brawl?
<Fire softens at this and relaxes>
FW: <looking down> no……no, that would be disrespectful of him. But so help me the second that little lamb strays from the flock……
MHJ: Funny, Chloe thinks the same thing about you
FW: What?
MHJ: She wants you in the ring
FW: No
MHJ: Why?
FW: I’ve explained why. No. It’s not happening
MHJ: You’re willing to put everyone you care about in danger just to avoid her?
<Fire just glares at Moose>
MHJ: She is serious
FW: And so am I
MHJ: So everyone suffers?
FW: Including you?
MHJ: Is that the line?
FW: No…..there is no line. It’s not happening. Now excuse me, I have to do…….stuff
<Fire turns and walks away, Moose watches her go and mutters under his breath as he turns to walk back toward the Saints locker room>
MHJ: Stuff
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