RENT IS DUE
The Rich Family home approximately 48 hours AFTER Domination 1.
Alex Reyn moves so that he is directly in front of Freddie Rich. Still standing, the dim light making his silhouette seem taller than it actually is.
A sideways glance at the television and then…
“So… the Master Sisters?”+
Freddie sighs: “Yes, what about them? What do YOU want? How did you get in? Where have you been?”
The shadow of Reyn’s face is split by a predatory smile.
“You and I both know where I’ve been, Freddie. I’ve been trying to conclude our business for quite some time and yet… You’ve always managed to keep yourself busy. One might almost think you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you? No, no…I wouldn’t say that. Why would we be? We haven’t seen you in two years, and it’s a shame SCW closed. We were really looking forward to facing you and Darren. Not only that, who’s to say we wouldn’t have beaten you? You weren’t back at your best, see what I did there, then, were you?”
Reyn’s eyes seem to be drilling into Freddie’s. Slowly, he leans forward. Placing a hand on the headrest just behind Freddie’s head.
“And I’m certain that you leaving every town I arrive in has been an unfortunate coincidence.”
That same, cold smile… before it morphs into a glare.
“Unfortunately… Despite your excuses, I begin to lose patience. So, I’m here with a warning: Rent is due.”
Freddie is taken aback by that: “Meaning?”
“One month. That is the timeframe you will be permitted. I will allow you to challenge for the titles during that time. There are some… interesting faces in this league. Both old and new. I can find some entertainment. But for every month that you do not face us…”
He looks over, and Freddie follows his eye line to see that Reyn is staring at photos of his family.
“I will take my payment in blood.”
When Freddie looks back, the East Wind has already left.
THE GAME IS AFOOT - KIND OF
A week ago…
Giovanni Ferrari is sat in GLOBAL’s faceless, all-transparent Board of Directors’ room, sans those very directors. He is sporting a black suit, white shirt, and red tie, looking like a million bucks with his dark hair slicked back and the Italian American epitomizes tall, dark and handsome, even while sitting down.
To his right-hand side, the eternal bleached blonde himself, Ray ‘Forever’ Young, who also cuts an impressive figure in old age with a dapper dark blue suit and light blue tie: “Ray, thanks for coming in, especially on a day off. It feels like we’ve spoken for days, and still not come to a conclusion on how to crown the first GLOBAL Champion. You’ve forgotten more about wrestling than any of us on this board, myself included, will ever know. What would YOU do?”
Ray gently touches Giovanni on the arm: “I’d marry those two main ideas together. Judge people on their performances all the way from the first Domination through five, and have a four OR eight-person tournament on the night.”
Giovanni, while nervously clicking his pen, looks down at the table and then back up at Ray: “And the final?”
“Either way, G. It’ll be a GREAT main event, however many there are or whoever is there,” Ray says.
Giovanni smiles: “Thanks, Ray. We’ll announce it on the next show, right? Make sure we’re all on the same page with the others before then?”
Ray holds his hands up and then out as Giovanni stands up to shake hands with Young: “G, have faith. You’re doing a great job, you’re the man here and whatever you say, goes.”
TALK ABOUT A PRICE CHANGE
The rough lineup for Domination 3 is on the wall for wrestlers to find out who they’ll be facing tonight. A lady’s finger traces the first few names on the page, featuring Son of Malta v Daniel Dream and Darren Best v Son of Darring until she stumbles upon – VIP v Flanagan.
She checks her own piece of paper against the official line up, rips the original off the wall, and quickly puts her own in place of it.
The camera zooms in to show the slight amendment.
VIP v Alex Reyn.
DANIEL DREAM Vs SON OF MALTA
The Maltese national anthem hits the PA system, which can only mean one thing: the dangerous Son of Malta emerges from the curtains to a mixed reaction. The GLOBAL nation hasn’t made up its mind about the dangerous technician. The announcers talk about how dangerous the veteran is, and if he gets you locked in that Maltese Cross, it’s all but over.
Son of Malta pays the fans, even the cheering ones, no mind. The camera even pans in on one SOM maniac holding up a homemade flag of Malta on a big cardboard sign in support of the veteran. Mark ‘The Mark’ Deltzer chimes in, saying – there is always one in the crowd!
The 6’3, 242-pound veteran stands in the ring as the ring announcer booms out his name, THE SON OF MALLLLLTA! He throws a few quick punches and rolls his neck backward, preparing for the match.
The mood quickly changes when American Idiot hits the speakers. The fans cheering joined the jeering crowd united against Daniel Dream. As he steps out, he waves an American Flag proudly, soaking up the boos causing Lucas Quinn to quickly defend GLOBAL Nation saying these fans aren’t anti-American, just anti-Daniel Dream.
The commentators would then talk about the two unforgettable nights Daniel Dream has had with matches against Sean Darring and Alfie Button. Allie Reece piped in, saying that Daniel Dream will have fought men from three countries in the first three Dominations after tonight. As Daniel Dream makes it down to ringside, he notices the homemade Malta Flag, and there is a bit of interaction between the American Flag waving Daniel Dream and the Son of Malta fan.
Son of Malta stays focused in the ring, waiting for the Atlanta native to get inside the ring. As the Ring Announcer announces Dream, the fans give a loudly united boo once more as he hands over the flag to a ring assistant and smiles rolling into the ring.
As the referee runs through the rules, both men stare at one another. Son of Malta doesn’t seem phased by the hot start of Daniel Dream. The veteran shows no emotion as the cocky Daniel Dream mouths something that we are pretty sure wouldn’t be allowed on TV anyways.
The commentators continue to sell the magnitude of the match. Reminding fans that there aren’t many tougher men than Son of Malta. At the same time, they called Daniel Dream the possible chosen one by the board.
The bell rings, and the two men stand nearly nose-to-nose until Daniel Dream slaps Son of Malta across the cheek.
The fans let out of booing gasp as Daniel Dream smiles, raising his arms proudly, proving to GLOBAL Nation that he isn’t scared of the big bad wolf, Son of Malta. The Son of Malta rubs his cheek slowly, then spins the bragging Daniel Dream around, unloading with quick, vicious jabs!
POP! POP! POP! POP!
The force of the punches has Dream reeling as Son of Malta backs him up against the ropes, sends him across, and takes down the unexpecting Daniel Dream with an early spinning heel kick that quickly sends the Dream rolling to the outside to shake the cobwebs.
Lucas Quinn talks about how the Son of Malta’s focus and fighting spirit is nearly unbreakable. Daniel Dream will have to worry about the man in the ring and not the shenanigans outside the ring tonight. The Mark agrees but reminds Quinn that he was a half-a-second away from beating Sean Darring. Daniel Dream knows how to handle himself against veterans.
Daniel Dream isn’t happy on the outside as he ignores the referee counting inside the ring. He shouts to the fans – “SHUT UP!” The Dream then turns and starts storming up the stairs and back into the ring, stopping and pointing at the referee, demanding he keeps Son of Malta back as he returns.
Son of Malta allows Daniel Dream to return as the two men start to lock up, but Daniel Dream is reeling the veteran in as he extends his left hand, jabbing Son of Malta in the eye, temporarily blinding him. Dream ignores the referee’s warnings and quickly works on the blinded veteran. A quick stiff forearm shot forces hard-nosed Malta only to take a few steps backward, but a well-aimed low strike into the right knee of Malta forces the veteran to drop.
Daniel Dream is proud of himself as he gives a fake limp, pointing at Son of Malta, who is now holding that knee taken out by Dream. He then turns and begins stomping on that right knee like a wolverene smelling blood.
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
The referee gets between the two men as Son of Malta uses his veteran instincts to escape into the ropes forcing Daniel Dream back. Daniel Dream raises his hands, claiming he is innocent, but the fans don’t have any of it. While Son of Malta works his way back to his feet, Allie Reece takes a moment to remind viewers of Daniel Dream’s background, how he trained at the acclaimed Slaughterhouse Gym and was quite successful on the indy circuit before getting his big break.
Son of Malta makes it back to his feet, favoring that knee, and the referee steps back, allowing the match to continue. Son of Malta shows the fighting spirit he has been known for stepping forward and calling for Daniel Dream to fight. Dream continues to circle the ring on two good wheels playing the game of cat and mouse, forcing Son of Malta to continue to put pressure and step on that knee he began working on earlier.
Lucas Quinn states the obvious that Daniel Dream is trying to combat Son of Malta’s intense focus with frustration. The Mark questions if that will make Son of Malta more focused.
The Dream is eventually cornered but charges out, ducking under a big swing by Malta. He rebounds and slides through the open legs of Malta and, as the veteran turns, eats a left European uppercut. Malta stays on his feet only to receive a stiff kick to that sore knee. Malta fires back with a big right hand, but Dream goes low, kicking that knee again. Malta, now on one wheel, lunges forward with another right. Lucas Quinn admires the fight and toughness in the veteran, claiming that the Son of Malta has a warrior’s spirit similar to a samurai.
However, even a samurai will go down after enough kicks to the knee, and Daniel Dream takes Malta down with a low dropkick. The Mark comments that even the toughest of trees drop after enough chops.
Daniel Dream grabs that leg, twists it around his body, and applies pressure on that knee. Son of Malta refuses to listen to the referee, who bends down to check in on the veteran. Dream leans forward, grabbing the ropes for an extra extension, and drops it when the referee returns, surveying the hold. The fans rally behind the Malta-born “son” – chanting MALTA!
Lucas Quinn talks about the respect the fans have for Son of Malta. The Mark questions why don’t they respect a man who took Sean Darring to the limits and defeated Alfie Button.
Daniel Dream finally lets the hold go when he realizes Malta isn’t going to budge. He waits for the veteran to get back up, mostly on just one knee, and he retakes aim, charging in, but this time Son of Malta is ready for him and catches him with an arm throw taking down the Dream.
Daniel Dream, taken by surprise, pops back up but is quickly taken down by a spinning heel kick. Daniel Dream playing the part of nine-lives, is right back on his feet, but Son of Malta is in the zone and takes him down with a snap belly-to-belly BIG overhead suplex!
This time Daniel Dream stays down as the impact has dazed the superstar. Knowing that Dream is compromised, the Son of Malta goes in for the kill, trying to lock on the deadly Maltese Cross. Lucas Quinn shouts that if the Son of Malta locks in the Maltese Cross, it will send Daniel Dream to dreamland. However, Daniel Dream has the move well scouted as instinct kicks in, and he rolls out of dodge, finding a refugee back outside the ring for a second time.
The fans are again letting Daniel Dream hear it as he storms around the outside, shaking his head no and pointing at Malta. Lucas Quinn questions if Daniel Dream’s games are backfiring and getting into his own head. The Mark follows up that it’s hard to get Son of Malta off his game. He is a cool cucumber.
Daniel Dream dives back under the ropes before the ten counts. He gives a false start charge at Malta, stopping in his tracks, and then wags his finger back and forth as if he is telling Son of Malta not time. Still, he takes off charging, and Malta’s focus has him ready, and he catches the charging Daniel Dream and drops him for a big inverted atomic drop.
Daniel Dream holds his lower regions in pain, and Son of Malta lifts Daniel Dream up and drops him with a bridging northern lights suplex!
Lucas Quinn comments on the near fall selling the impact the Son of Malta has on his suplexes. And it’s almost like the Son of Malta was listening to Lucas Quinn as he pulls Daniel Dream up and sets him up for a slingshot suplex, but the Dream slips out and, as Malta turns around, eats a standing superkick right into the mouth.
Even though the kick took Malta down, it didn’t keep him down; as he pulled himself back up, Daniel Dream went for a second superkick, but this time missed. Daniel Dream leaps in the ring’s corner, looking to hit a big move. Still, Son of Malta is right behind him and launches Dream back with a booming avalanche belly-to-back suplex.
Lucas Quinn shouts out that the Son of Malta flattened Daniel Dream with that suplex! The Mark points out that the Son of Malta has that look in his eyes. And The Mark is right; Malta locks on his deadly Maltese Cross on the deflated Daniel Dream as the fans go wild in full support of the Malta-born veteran.
Lucas Quinn shouts that the Maltese Cross is hooked! However, Daniel Dream doesn’t let it get fully hooked in as he is close to the ropes, and he dives out of desperation into the ropes saving his bacon and forcing a quick break.
The Mark reflects on how close that was for Daniel Dream, but he has a knack for hanging around in a match. The Son of Malta appears frustrated for the first time in this match as not only is the referee forcing the hold to break, but Malta to back away and give Daniel Dream time to recover.
The Son of Malta waits for Daniel Dream to fully get up and then lands a kick of his own, the superstar kick!
Malta drops down and covers Dream again.
Lucas Quinn shouts out that Daniel Dream survives the onslaught of the Son of Malta. The Mark adds that the earlier damage on Malta’s knee affected his ability to put a lot of power behind that kick.
The Son of Malta begins to set Daniel Dream up for another suplex, but Dream is quick to react and survives with a quick rollup for a cover of his own!
Lucas Quinn, this time marvels at the survivability of Daniel Dream and the awareness to escape the suplex with a rollup of his own.
As there is a bit of chaos after quick kickouts’ both men leap into action, but Daniel Dream is first and shoves the referee, who was in the wrong place, into the Son of Malta, confusing and dazing the official as Daniel Dream follows up with a sliding knee strike on the Son of Malta.
The Mark compliments Dream on his game plan. The Son of Malta is a warrior inside the ring, and focusing on his knee has taken him out of his comfort zone.
Daniel Dream goes for a submission move of his own as he grabs the ankle of Malta, who uses his good leg to kick Dream off, smashing the dazed official in the ring corner. The fans’ groans quickly turn to cheers as Son of Malta is back up and throwing punches.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Malta continues to connect with big rights that take Dream down to one knee, and as Malta approaches, Daniel Dream nails the veteran with an unexpecting low blow slowing him down in his tracks.
GROANS FROM THE CROWD!
Lucas Quinn calls the move a disgrace as the referee still tries to shake off the damage.
Daniel Dream grabs the stunned Son of Malta and hits the Dream Crusher, Full Nelson DDT!
Both men lay on the mat as the fans cheer for Malta to get up. Daniel Dream crawls over to make the cover, but the referee is still unavailable.
Lucas Quinn points out that Daniel Dream is frustrated as Dream gets up and walks over to the referee, yelling at him. Meanwhile, the Son of Malta has come to, and Dream notices the veteran on his feet and charges, but Malta sends him up and over with a back body drop. Son of Malta then hooks the Maltese Clover on Daniel Dream, who is waving his arms in the air wildly in pain.
The Mark shouts that Dream is in some major danger. This may not be the Maltese Cross, but a painful alternative.
The fans roar as Dream shouts what everyone expects is his quitting words with some possible expletives.
Lucas Quinn claims the referee is still trying to recover, and Son of Malta drops the hold in disgrace, grabbing the official to help him return to “life.”
The Mark marvels at how lucky the Dream is to still be in this match.
The Dream uses the ropes to get to his feet, and the Son of Malta turns from the referee to eat an unexpecting American Revolution, high-impact elbow by Daniel Dream!
The fans gasp as Malta crumbles down from the impact of the move. Daniel Dream drops on top of Son of Malta, and the still-shaken official drops down to make the cover while Daniel Dream extends his feet on the ropes for safekeeping.
Marcus, my man: “YOUR WINNER…THE AMERICAN PATRIOT…DAAAANIEL DRRRREEEAM!”
Lucas Quinn talks about how lucky Daniel Dream has been. He barely escaped defeat tonight, but his record is starting to look pretty good.
While the official checks on Malta, Daniel Dream grabs his American Flag and raises it in the air, saying he is the man to beat around here. The Mark agrees with the Dream, saying it’s hard to argue with the man.
I'LL DO MY BEST
Steve Blaine is standing alongside a tanned wrestler sporting a blue jacket with matching tights, medium-length brown hair, and a suntan with some stubble on his chin.
“Darren Best, tonight, you face ‘Legend’ Sean Darring, a match I’ve been told was requested by you. Can you explain your thinking behind that, when, with due respect, you’re going into this bout as the clear underdog?”
Darren smirks: “Hello, Steve, a pleasure as always. No offense taken. There’s no doubt that I’m the underdog, and you know what? Fine by me. Why did I ask for the match, Steve? My name is Darren Best, and I want to be the best I can be. Sean Darring is one of the greatest wrestlers of all time, and someone I look up to as a role model. He has been – and is – where I’m hoping to get to. Am I confident? Always. Do I think I’ll win? I don’t know. Do I believe it’s an honor to get in the ring with a legend, and will I learn something in the process? Absolutely.”
Blaine asks: “Darren, how do you beat Sean Darring?”
Again, Best affords himself a smile, squeezing his stubble with just his two index fingers and thumbs: “I hope I’m going to show you, shortly. I won’t give anything away, but I’ll have to be at my very best. I’m well prepared, I’ve studied tape of Sean, and seen him wrestle up close and personal, and I can’t wait to make my GLOBAL debut. Win, lose or draw, I’ll give it one hundred percent, and may the BEST man win.”
Steve wishes Darren ‘good luck’ as Best turns on his heel, heading to the ring momentarily to face the multi-time World champion and Hall of Famer, ‘Legend’ Sean Darring in just a few minutes.
HOLD ON, PLAYERS...
Amber is sitting in catering and listening to her I-pod. Alfie spots her blond hair and approaches from behind. Putting a hand on her shoulder, Amber jumps as she takes her headphones out and looks over her shoulder.
“Alfie! You startled me!” Avery exclaims as she smiled up at him.
“Sorry, Amber, I didn’t realise you were listening ta music,” he replied as she motions for him to sit down and join her.
“Last week was a bit ‘ectic, ya know? I looked for ya, though, and asked arand, but you were busy kicking El Principe’s arse, much better than I ‘ave, and I’ve been in the ring wiv ‘im multiple times, Then, I ‘ad the main event against Daniel Dream, and it weren’t to be. Talkin’ to ya would ‘ave cheered me up, but I don’t fink I would ‘ave been good company to you, so ‘ow are you doing? Everything okay?”
Lee beams: “It felt great to kick his ass at the last show Alfie! Some people aren’t too impressed, but that’s okay, I’ll strive to do better this show! Oh, I wanted to tell you, the doctors feel that my mom is well enough to come to our next show. I am so excited that she’ll get to see me wrestle live!”
Amber smiled as Alfie sat down to join her, and she took a sip from her Pepsi bottle. She slipped her I-pod back in her pocket and smiled at Alfie, she always felt like smiling around him!
“That is FANTASTIC, Amber! We’ll definitely ‘ave to celebrate that with somefing stronger than Pepsi, I reckon. If that’s all right?”
Amber smiled back and nodded her head with a big smile. She pulled out her wallet and showed a picture of her mom sitting in a rocking chair and Amber kneeling beside the chair.
“This was taken yesterday, we’ve noticed that her hair is starting to grow back, and she is so excited!” Amber said as she beamed.
“Well, I can certainly see ‘oo you take after when it comes to looks…OH! Well, if it ain’t Kid Chameleon and Paul Sanders, ‘ow are ya bof?”
The dark brown hair of Kid Chameleon is swept to one side. He is wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt, black sunglasses and ripped jeans while the 6’3 Paul Sanders shows off his latest exploits at the gym and his ‘modesty’ is protected by yellow and black trunks.
“Alfie, great to see you and this must be Amber Lee. Kid has told me about you, and he wasn’t wrong,” Paul says, extending a hand and kissing Amber’s right one gently.
Kid Chameleon raises his sunglasses. Paul tells him ‘he’s got this’ and continues: “Amber and Alfie, Amber Button or Alfie Lee, whatever your team name is. It would be an honor for me and Kid to face you in a tag team match tonight.”
Button chuckles: “Wait, there’s no beef ‘ere, though.”
Sanders looks at Kid and then back at Button: “Would there be beef if I told you Amber was too good for you? Would there be beef if I told you that Kid Chameleon was too good for you? Would there be beef if I told you, even after years out of the ring, that Paul Sanders is too good for you?”
Alfie stands up, looks Sanders, and then smacks him on the chest, cackling loudly: “Oh my days, Paul. That was a good’un.”
Howling, the Cockney’s hysterical laughter makes Sanders feel uncomfortable while Kid Chameleon remains totally unflustered: “Paul, that was ‘ilarious, mate. Amber, what do you fink about ‘elping me against these couple ov clowns tonight?”
“Who are you calling a clown,” Sanders asks, ready to get physical with Button there and then.
Amber laughs at their antics and leans into Alfie and playfully elbows Alfie.
“I’m too good for you, huh?” She asks as she looks at Alfie and then their potential opponents for this evening.
Paul rolls his eyes and then glances back to Amber: “Yes, you are,” he says.
Lee puts her arm around Alfie and looks straight at Sanders: “Am I also too good for you? Alfie was in the main event against Daniel Dream at the last show and has wrestled for the World title before. Have you done any of that, Paul?”
“No,” comes Paul’s tame reply.
Cupping her hand to her ear, Amber asks: “Can you repeat that, because I didn’t quite catch it? Alfie’s an amazing athlete. But, hey, what do I know? Prove you’re better than both of us. You’re on.” Accepting their invitation, Amber leads Alfie back a few paces, arm still around the Englishman, before they swivel and walk away from The Players – for now.
Players, you got yourself a little tag team match a bit later on.
“There we were…stranded out in the middle of nowhere beyond the Orion Nebula, with no access to warp speed and about fifty ships on our tail.”
In a corner table in a seedy dive bar, a no less seedy patron – a stocky, middle-aged man with stringy, wispy hair and a prominent beer paunch not quite concealed underneath a plaid flannel shirt and filthy off-grey tank top – squints over the latest in a series of beer pints at his captive audience of a handful of young redneck truckers. As he talks, the scene switches to what is presumably a flashback, showing a small spaceship attempting to put some distance between itself and a pursuing fleet.
“Hop was out front with the kid, trying to fix the warp drive…”
On screen, a middle-aged man in a trenchcoat is briefly seen hunched over the ship’s control panel, while a muscular twentysomething props his feet up on the dash, his attention fully focused on his Nintendo Switch.
“…and ol’ John J. here was down in the gunner’s station, shooting seven bells outta those assholes.”
The speaker is now seen seated behind a row of joysticks, his manic rictus lit up yellow and red by the blasts heard just outside the ship, his whoop of bellicose glee heard even over the pinging and zinging of the futuristic weapons:
“THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE, YOU BASTARDS!!! BWAHAHAHAHAH!!!”
Back at the bar, his present-day self cannot keep the pride from his voice as he allows himself a brag:
“Shot all those suckers down, too. All but one.”
Just as quickly, however, his smirk turns into a frowning wince:
“But that’s when it all went to shit.”
The man pauses to take a sip of his bitter, wincing again – this time, presumably, at the taste – before continuing:
“Next thing I know, the ship is lurching all over the goddamn place at like Mach 3 speed. We’re moving so goddamn fast, my chair topples over and gets stuck to the ground by all the G forces and whatnot. So I have to just lie there and stare at the ceiling and wait ‘till we’re out of this goddamn forcefield. Next thing I know, the ship is a smokin’ wreck, the thrusters are FUBAR – all FOUR of ‘em – and we’re stuck a million miles from home, in this fuckin’ Liberal shit-hole of a state. And we’ve…” Here, the man’s tone goes from heated to sombre. “…and we’ve lost Hop.”
The assembled truck drivers, whose demeanour has been changing from undivided attention to condescending amusement over the past few moments, now join together in an outright incredulous chuckle.
At this, the man bristles:
“You assholes don’t believe me, huh? ‘Cause fuck knows I gotta lie about my pal going missing, am I right? Well, you dipshits just hang tight for a second – lemme grab somebody who can vouch for me.” The man turns around in his chair, the better to look around the run-down establishment. “CruZe! Hey, CruZe!”
He briefly scans the nearby tables and the bar area, seemingly without being able to locate his quarry.
“Where the hell’d this asshole go…?”
Then, his brow furrows, his cheeks reddening in anger as he spots a muscular back strutting out the door, his arm around the waist of a slender, dark-haired woman.
“Fuckin’ prick”, he yells out, drawing a few irritated looks from other tables, and peals of derisive laughter from his formerly rapt audience, whom he nonetheless tries to cajole.
“Hey…you guys are at least gonna spring for another beer, right? In memory of my boy Hop?”
“Yeeeeeaaahhh…I don’t think so, buddy, Find somebody else to run your dumbass scam”, the apparent leader of the rednecks scoffs, as the group begins to walk away, much to the irritation of the man at the table, who grunts and makes as if to return to his table.
Before he makes it all the way back, however, the broadcast on the sports bar’s flatscreen catches his attention. On screen, two topless men are grappling with one another inside a fighting ring, the camera catching the pained expressions on each of their sweaty visages as they struggle against their opponent.
Then, as the company’s contact details scroll by at the bottom of the screen, encouraging viewer participation, an idea appears to dawn on the shabby man, as, without another word or moment’s hesitation, he turns on his heels and strides out of the door of the bar, calling out to his wayward companion, leaving his latest and last beer virtually untouched on the table behind him…
WISHING YOU A HAPPY (AND HEDONISTIC) NEW YEAR
The following advertisement has been paid for by GLOBAL Studios.
Giovanni Ferrari, alone in the oval office, has his hands interlocked while sat at the head of the table: “We at GLOBAL want to…”
Suddenly, Ferrari’s message is scrambled and makes way for a muscular, shirtless, moustached madman with bulging veins, ripped jeans and a bandana waggles his finger while driving on a busy Californian interstate: “THE KRONK CORPORATION WANTS TO WISH YOU A MOTHERF*CKING HAPPY NEW YEAR! DON’T WASTE IT BY BEING A GODDAMN P*SSY! GET YOURSELF DOWN TO ONE OF OUR SHOPS NOW. YES, WITH THREE HUNDRED STORES NATIONWIDE, WE REALLY ARE ONE IN A MILLION DOWN AT MAJOR EXPLOSIVES – WE GOT IT ALL. GUNS, EXPLOSIVES, BOMBS, DYNAMITE, EXPLOSIVES, BRASS KNUX, KNIVES, EXPLOSIVES, AND LOTS MORE!”
The head of the Kronk Corporation swerves to avoid a car, completely his fault for not watching where he’s going, but that doesn’t stop him from placing the blame on the other driver: “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING, YOU MILENNIAL T*T-SUCKING PIECE OF WHALE EXCREMENT!”
That’s a bit harsh on Brendan Fraser. Anyway, he continues: “DON’T BE LIKE HIM! LIVE YOUR LIFE TO THE FULLEST, FLIP YOUR TEACHERS AND PARENTS OFF, AND ENJOY EATING WHAT YOU COOK AND KILL, BUT NOT IN THAT ORDER!”
In quick succession, he races past three cars while driving one-handed and flexing with the other: “START YOUR NEW YEAR OFF WITH A TRIP TO THE GUN SHOW – YOUR OWN! KRONK GYMS, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS TWO-PUMP CHAMPS, ARE OPEN IN FORTY-NINE STATES, AND LET’S FACE IT…ALASKA SHOULDN’T EVEN BE IN THE COUNTRY! YOU MIGHT EVEN MEET ME IN OUR HOLLYWOOD BRANCH, TRAINING ALONGSIDE GLOBAL REFEREE, AARON ‘THE POWER’ POWELL!”
Riding off into the sunset, the newly appointed CEO looks to the right, so no, he hasn’t got his eyes on the road: “AND DON’T FORGET OUR RESTAURANT AND SHOOTING GALLERIES AT DINER MIGHT! SITUATED JUST ACROSS THE STREET FROM THE LAPD! MAXIMUS ARMSTRONG CALVIN KRONK OF THE KRONK CORPORATION SAYS – LIVE LIFE IN THE FAST LANE IN TWENTY TWENTY-THREE AND KICK GRETA THUNBERG IN THE CUN…”
All that can be heard afterward, fortunately, is the sound of Kronk’s 4 x 4 screeching out into the distance.
DARREN BEST Vs SEAN DARRING
‘Legend’ Sean Darring made his debut when Darren Best was in diapers.
Today, Darring is everything Darren aspires to be. Sean is a world-class wrestler and a household name, someone with very few regrets inside the squared circle and an astonishing array of accomplishments that most men and women could only dream of.
Darren claims this is the match he’s been butchering the GLOBAL Board of Directors for. Eager to test himself against the cream of the crop and a student of the game, he’s in for a hell of an experience against one of the game’s great teachers, and one of the sharpest minds to ever enter the squared circle.
Best heads into this match as the underdog and a GLOBAL debutant, nothing to lose. Darring, coming off a magnificent main event victory over Daniel Dream on the inaugural Domination 1, returns to action in the opening match here.
Without further ado, let’s get cracking.
“I call you when I need you, my heart’s on fire. You come to me, come to me, wild and wired.”
The iconic anthem of the legendary Tina Turner kicks in and respectable applause for Darren Best, when the debuting star emerges smack bang on cue: “YOU’RE SIMPLY THE BEST – BETTER THAN ALL THE REST.”
Take it away, Lucas: “If Darren Best manages to beat ‘Legend’ Sean Darring, you’ll refer to him by his surname in the superlative form. Someone who has all the tools to go all the way to the top in GLOBAL: mentally strong, resilient, resourceful, determined, and thorough in his preparation, Darren Best is a hell of a test for ‘Legend’ Sean Darring, but is he more than that? Are we writing him off as just an opponent for the Hall-of-Famer?”
“Yes, you are, Lucas. This man has been to hell and back, and I won’t tell that story right now, but Darren is more than just a hell of a hand, and isn’t here to make up the numbers,” The Mark informs us, as the saxophone portion blares out, accompanying Darren up the stairs after exchanging high-fives, grinning ear to ear all the way throughout his entrance, a fact not lost on one Allie Reece.
“I have to say, I’ve never seen someone so happy to go and wrestle a competitor the caliber and quality of Sean Darring. Darren must be ready or completely drunk on adrenaline, but I’m looking forward to this one.”
Darren applauds the crowd and runs the ropes, gathering his thoughts ahead of a career-defining contest, at least for him, against THIS man.
‘The Final Countdown’ by Europe, another legendary song in its own right, and a precursor to the arrival of one of the game’s all-time greats.
A gold robe with ‘THE LEGEND’ emblazed on the back in black is seen first as Darring steps out onto the ramp while fireworks are set off all about him. He smiles before walking down the aisle, God only knows how many times he has made that journey, as he exchanges high-fives with eager fans, predominantly down the left side before switching to the right: “Legend is overused in every aspect of life, and wrestling is no different. Many people shouldn’t even be in the conversation, but when they use it to describe Sean Darring, they can do so straight-faced, safe in the knowledge they’re not throwing around the word for the sake of it, and cheapening its meaning by the day. It is, unequivocally, correct and as close to fact as an opinion can possibly be,” waxes Lucas Quinn.
Darring jogs up the ring steps, ducking his head so he can enter via the middle rope, setting off more fireworks in the process. Darring then removes his gold robe, which he hands to head referee Barry Snider while showing a matching singlet and boots, and a massive roar goes up for the exceptionally talented LSD, accompanied by chants of ‘DARRING, DARRING, DARRING.’
Best seems unmoved by the adulation afforded for Sean Daring, yet still keen to get down to business.
As soon as the bell sounds to indicate this one is officially underway, Sean and Darren meet in the middle for a handshake, and a slight not of the head suggesting there’s a mutual respect. A Collar-and-Elbow is the first port of call, which sees Sean win and transition into a Side Headlock, which poses problems for Darren early doors. Darren does his best, pun intended, to steer Sean toward the bottom set of ropes and then shove him off.
However, Darring hangs onto the Headlock and then takes Best over, down to the mat and maintain his hold over Darren and the match. Slowly, Best gets to his feet, but as he does, Darring cranks up the pressure. Perhaps growing impatient, Darren lifts Sean up, seeking a Suplex reversal of sorts, though we never find out as Best gets one of his opponent’s toes off the ground until Sean comes back down to earth with a – what’s the opposite of bang – Headlock still intact, and that gains some polite applause.
Barry Snider’s equivalent of stretching there, I guess.
In the meantime, Darren manages to kip up out of the predicament, which makes Darring smile, an acknowledgment of Darren’s ability, but as Lucas Quinn observes: “Just because Darring is impressed, does not mean he’s surprised. Darren Best, as blessed as he is, will have to do a lot more than that to take this legendary competitor who has seen it and done it all by surprise.”
Both men stand opposite one another and embark on another C & E, which again goes in LSD’s favour, the iconic grappler grabbing a go-behind and looking to send Darren south again, courtesy of a German Suplex, but Darren grabs a leg first, tripping Darring. Darren, set to go to work, misses with the subsequent Elbow Drop, and Quinn, call it: “There’s no way Sean Darring’s faster than Darren Best, but he is in mind, and his IQ is off the charts. Best is making mistakes he probably wouldn’t make against most opponents, second-guessing himself against someone he looks up to, and has only ever dreamt of sharing the ring with. That’s my take on his approach thus far.”
A brief applause ensues as they regain their vertical base, and yes, you’ve guessed it – there’s another Tie-up. This time, Darren takes the lead with a Side Headlock, directly ripping Sean off. As LSD fights it, it’s Best’s turn to grind Darring down and give him a taste of his own medicine. Not only that though, but Best also wants to go one step further and clear the runway for take-off with a Bulldog. Darring doesn’t green-light the move, slamming on the brakes just prior to departure and pulling Best in for a Kneebreaker and a fine counter.
Sean doesn’t rest on his laurels, as he never has, and a Single Leg Trip puts Best flat on his back and prone for a Figure Four Leglock.
“That burst, that speed of thought, again, Sean Darring steps ahead of Best in presence of mind, Darren hoping to get to that level one day, but Sean reminds him he’s not there yet, and it takes a long time to get there,” Quinn quips.
“In other words, it escalated,” Allie Reece sums it up, cutting through all the tape.
As you were, Barry Snider. Darren sits up, as if he were emerging from a particularly hot bath, shouting ‘NO’ emphatically as Snider enquires whether he wants to give up the ghost. So far, Darring has been a ghost that Best hasn’t been able to catch.
Darren tries to move back, seeking refuge in the ropes behind him on the north side of the squared circle in front of our commentary team, but every time Best budges, Darring tightens his grip on this tried and trusted submission that asks questions of seven pressure points within the pins.
“Darren knows he has to fight this, and he’s going to,” Lucas Quinn informs the watching GLOBAL Nation. Darren, encouraged by our capacity crowd gathered at The Globe, does indeed decided to give it a go. Several seconds pass, and as a determined Darren is about to reverse the hold and give Darring another sour taste of his medication, Sean surprisingly releases, taking everyone by surprise, most of all, his opponent. In a blink of an eye, the vastly experienced role model picks Darren up, planting him with a Snap Suplex and hangs on. Before Best knows where he is, it’s back on the floor as LSD drops Darren with a delightful Double Underhook Suplex.
Some headway there by ‘Legend,’ but Best kicks out. Smartly, Sean grabs that leg that he had hooked, and keeps hold of it, ramming Darren’s left leg into the mat, executing a pair of Leg Breakers.
Coming up next…
“The Inverted Indian Death Lock. Like the aforementioned Figure Four, this grappler’s favorite doesn’t go out of fashion, because it’s mightily effective and simple to put on, though not too perfect. Naturally, Sean Darring has perfected it, and Darren Best’s reaction is a testament to that,” Quinn educates us.
Again, Best is trying to fight this, but LSD is in complete control and has been from the start. Inch by inch, Darren is trying to move but as he does so, Darring tightens his grip AGAIN. Where are you, Lucas?
“What is so simple and so smart at the same time is that Darren is exerting tremendous amounts of energy just to stay in this match. Both men are in phenomenal condition, which speaks volumes about their professionalism, but the wily Darring is wearing the younger Darren down and getting Best to essentially fight his own two hundred and twenty-pound frame, as well as piling his own two hundred and forty pounds on top of that. Darren Best is carrying The Great Wall down there, and that’s why this is an uphill task.”
Eventually, Darren moves and moves – AND moves – until he’s able to reach the bottom rope behind him. Darring lets go immediately, and as Darren uses the ropes to get to his feet, he unknowingly makes Sean’s job easier for him. You see, picking someone up is tiring, but when they do it themselves, on top of some limb damage, it plays into your strategy and trap of a…
Belly-to-Belly Suplex by Darring!
Of course, he hooks the leg.
No, and that’s hopefully the only dodgy line spacing we’ve seen in this match thus far.
LSD rolls Darren onto his stomach and then places so his lower back is on Best’s behind and then his head around Darren’s upper back. Sean bends up both of Best’s legs, then quickly releases and grabs Darren’s arms.
Thereafter, the former CWF Champion (I had to 😉) rolls to the side so Darren is on his back and LSD is kneeling with his head underneath Darren’s back. The aggressor pulls his head out from behind Best’s back, so it is now, uncomfortably, between the New Yorker’s legs. Sean scoots forward, trapping Darren’s legs against Darring’s body. Darren now has his shoulders pinned to the mat, Darring is holding both of Best’s arms to the mat and his body is at an angle with his bent legs off the mat, trapped against Darring’s body. Mark, over to you pal.
“Cradle Back to Back Roll Over. This move hurts. So complex to put on, but Darring went through all of that for a reason. Not just to prove a point he’s one of the most proficient professional wrestlers to ever live, not just to do that to someone of Darren’s natural technical ability, because when all is said and done…THIS. MOVE. HURTS.”
Judging by Darren’s squirming and screaming, Deltzer isn’t wrong. The question now is: How does Darren keep LSD at bay and provide a solution to this particularly tough problem?
Best pushes, almost looking for a press-up, and the first attempt gets him absolutely nowhere. The second try makes some headway, as does the third and now much nearer the rope, Darren extends his right leg to reach the bottom rope and force a break, which LSD abides by on Snider’s count of 3.
“Darren has not been able to cope with Sean Darring at all,” according to one Lucas Quinn. As he’s spouting off, Sean Darring grabs a handful of Darren’s tights, legally mind, and lifts for a worrying…
Okay, we’ve probably got some weird spacing, after all, as well as the closest near-fall thus far, so let’s focus on that instead, especially as Darren looks there for the taking.
Sean might be set to seal the deal here with an Inverted DDT or may have done, but Best desperately catches Sean with a kick to the head from out of nowhere. After creating some much-needed space and separation, Best rips a page from former partner, Alfie Button’s playbook with a terrific Overhead Kick.
Darren, understandably breathing heavily, fights through the pain and exhaustion, and can you imagine if the Overhead Kick had been with his BAD leg? Anyway, back to the action, Darren takes a chance with an OUTStanding Moonsault!
While Lucas Quinn laments Darren’s opportunity to secure a near-fall or potential pinfall, Best seems to have an intent and intensity about him which has been sorely missing so far. He hits the reset button on the bout with a Single-Arm DDT and follows that fine handiwork up with a trio of Seated Sentons to Darring’s left arm before standing on his hand, the same side.
“Darren Best is going to work here,” The Mark exclaims, failing to conceal a soft spot for the New York native.
Sean has his left arm raised by Best, and Darren delivers a pretty nasty-looking toe-punt under the armpit, not a phrase I’ve ever typed, and then looks to put his stamp on proceedings further with a Cross Armbreaker. Has the tide finally turned in Best’s favor?
Not for too long, as Darring is near the ropes on the East side and reaches them comfortably. While put out somewhat, Darren doesn’t delay the inevitable release, extending Darring the same treatment Sean afforded him earlier on, and he hasn’t forgotten it.
Best comes to collect, however, and eats a European Uppercut, but fights fire with fire and gives Darring one of his own, again a nod to his ex-tag team partner. An Arm Wringer by Best paves the way for a Springboard Armdrag. Eager to get back up, Darring then uncharacteristically runs into a regular Armdrag and Best slaps on an…
Sorry, I had to. Best squeezes yet Darring rises like he has done on countless occasions throughout his storied career and reverses the Armbar by shoving Best off via the ropes. Sean drops down, Darren skipping over him and upon returning, Darring takes Best by surprise by going (not too) low with an elbow to the rib cage and making it a double whammy with an excellent Inverted Russian Legsweep!
Darren is scraped up by his illustrious counterpart, the veteran Darring seeking a Hangman’s Neckbreaker. Best, though, has other ideas and locks Sean’s hands, a la Ultimate Warrior to ‘Ravishing’ Rick, and you weren’t expecting that reference in a mat-based bout, were you?
Back in the present day and tense, Darren powers out, which impresses everyone, and speaking of power…
OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!
Quinn sounds somewhat shocked: “Where DID that come from?”
The Mark smugly puts Lucas down: “Darren Best CAN WRESTLE, Lucas. He’s no mug.”
A double down by Barry Snider is interrupted at around 5. As Darring gets to his feet, followed by Best, Darren is first to the punch with a kick to the knee and a superb DDT! Could that do it?
Darren is making headway. He isn’t letting up and drops an Elbow Drop, which doesn’t miss this time, and he capitalizes on it with a second and soon after, a third.
“It has taken Darren Best a long time to get going here, but he is certainly in the ascendancy. Can he pull off the upset here? Momentum is with him as he drags Darring towards the corner…”
The Mark interjects: “…Sorry Lucas, especially if he’s going for what I think he is.”
Deltzer is referring to Best’s patented Turnbuckle Wrist-Clutch Exploder, dubbed ‘Best of Both.’ Unfortunately for the underdog, Darring ushers in a couple of kicks to Darren’s left leg, and as Best hobbles slightly, it gives ‘Legend’ the opening to run the ropes and return with interest, NAILING the New York native with a Chop Block, making Darren cry out immediately upon hitting the floor.
“Just when you think you’ve got Sean Darring, you realize you don’t,” opines Lucas.
Sean doesn’t let up, cradling Darren’s neck and forcing him back to the ropes with a horrendous Knife Edge, make that twice and then thrice, the sound sickeningly echoing throughout The Globe and taking so much out of Best’s engine.
The Mark perks up: “Wait a minute…Best with a chop of his own, and he’s firing back on Darring, backing Legend up…three, four, five and Darren makes it half a dozen, how is Sean still standing?”
A Hiptoss takes Darring down. As Sean gets up, Darren meets him with a Hurricanrana takedown and a pin to boot…
The Mark and Allie Reece query that with Quinn. Snider confirms it is just a two.
“You can see the gears turning in Darren’s head. He hasn’t got Sean Darring here, but he’s making inroads and is hesitant to make a mistake, knowing one major error could cost him in the match of his life,” The Mark offers a different take on events to Lucas Quinn.
Darren sees Sean getting up and takes one glance back as he exits left and heads to the top rope, only for Sean to stagger to his feet and then suddenly scarper to the top rope, joining Best in a precarious position.
Best butts Darring, but Sean responds with a big-time right and that has more oomph behind it. In fact, it settles where this sequence is going and Darring sets Best – and himself ultimately – up for a hellacious collision with a sensational SUPERPLEX from the top!
Can ‘Legend’ execute the cover?
Seemingly not. Cue a double-down by Barry, our official and GLOBAL head referee.
Darring climbs over and drapes a hand across Best’s beating heart…
TH-ERE’S LIFE IN DARREN YET!
Darring darts towards Best, but Darren picks Sean up, seeking a Sidewalk Slam. However, he doesn’t get it because Darring’s desire to negotiate an Octopus Hold comes off!
“This is a dangerous situation for Darren Best to be in, particularly at this st—FALLAWAY SLAM counter by Best! Amazing,” Quinn going through a whole host of emotions in this encounter.
“One way, then back, and the next, this is what wrestling’s about. Believe me, Sean Darring and Darren Best are having a lot of fun in there in between all of the pain, suffering, sweat, and exhaustion, this is what these two men live for,” claims The Mark.
The crowd counts along with Snider, who gets to 7. Best, who has turned onto his stomach, is trying to push himself up again, just as he did when battling Darring’s Cradle Back to Back Roll Over. However, what Best hasn’t sensed yet is that Darring has edged close to him and Darren’s turning on his stomach has just made his wily opponent’s job even easier.
Snider calls the count off, just as Sean applies a Scissors Lock, and Best experiences a surreal moment of not knowing what’s going on until it’s too late as Sean rolls around on Darren’s head, forcing Best’s body up at an angle, asking major questions of Darren’s neck which is also supporting his body weight at the moment. LSD hyperextends the arm if things weren’t bad enough, and voila, you’ve got the…
Best shouts out NO a couple of times, but he, as well as many others, knows the game is up. Sean is too experienced, technical, and knowledgeable to let up and after 7 to 8 seconds, Darren makes the conscious decision to live and fight another day and tap out, gracefully, allowing Sean Darring to maintain his perfect start to life in GLOBAL, following up on his tremendous win over Daniel Dream on Domination 1. The crowd explodes into cheers before settling down and applauding the efforts of BOTH men.
“What a wonderful effort by Darren Best. He had nothing to lose, and despite defeat to Darring, he’ll take great confidence from sharing the ring with ‘Legend’ and gain priceless experience. It took him a while to get going, and he was always a step behind Sean, but there’s no disgrace in that. He can smile to himself, tonight, tomorrow and always that he had fleeting moments and, on another night, might have clinched victory against the great man.”
Darring helps Best, who is feeling the effects of Sean’s fantastic work throughout the bout and the Legend Lock too, up and they end the match the way they started it – with a respectful handshake before Best departs, allowing ‘Downtown’ Jason Brown to officially declare Darring the victor.
Outside the gates of a sprawling country estate, three figures wait patiently to be let in, each twirling a different implement: Rupert Royston-Fellowes the gold knuckles he used to deck ‘Flyin” Ryan Ansell on the latest GLOBAL Wrestling show, his partner Nigel Kensington III his thumbs, and Scottish representative Davey-Boy O’Brien his well-kept and rather impressive moustache.
Eventually, the buzzer sounds, and the gates to the mansion at long last begin to open. Before the trio can return to their respective cars, however, they are met by an attractive middle-aged blonde, her blinding canary-yellow pantsuit as perfectly tailored and styled as her coiffed pixie cut. Her blue-green eyes twinkle and a big, genuine grin lights up her features as she strides up to meet the three men, kissing each one on the cheek exactly once by way of greeting as she chirps:
“Nigey, DAR-ling! You are more dashing every time I SEE you! And Rupie, BABE! Are you TRYING to make your bestie all jelly, with these big muscles?” Then, turning to the ‘third wheel’ in the group: “And DAVEYkins! SO pleased you have finally seen sense and decided to join us! Welcome to the…” Here, the woman pauses for a moment, before giggling: “…well, I suppose we can ALSO call ourselves a ‘rich family’, can’t we?”
“Oh, good gracious, no,” Rupert groans, rolling his eyes as far to the back of his head as they will go. “We are The United Kingdom. Please do let’s stick to that.”
“Whatever you say, Rupie”, the blonde simpers, before Nigel makes up for his partner’s lack of manners by enquiring:
“How are *you*, Kay?”
“Oh, you know me, darling”, Kerry trills. “Forever FAB!”
“Smashing.” Nigel grins first at the blonde, and then down at Davey-Boy. “David, this is Kerry Buckingham. Our personal PR officer.”
“…AND FRIEND,” Kerry puts in, feigning offence. “*Mostly* friend!”
“Aye.” Davey-Boy nods. “Ah Ken. Ah remember ye from back in the day. Tho’ ye were an announcer back then, yeh?”
“I was, darling, yes.” It is Kerry’s turn to nod. “Until the company closed down. Which, may I point out, would have NEVER happened had dear Stella and Ronnie not been ousted by those…PEOPLE.” Here, the blonde looks squarely at Kensington. “No offence, darling. I know they are your relatives…”
Then, as if nothing had happened, she adds: “DO come in, though. Dear Stella will be EVER so pleased to see you!”
With this, the blonde makes her way back inside the large stately home, as the three men return to their cars and finally drive through the imposing gates, and up to the manor house itself. One shot transition later, they are being led up some elegant marble steps and towards a heavy, dark oak door, which Kerry raps on.
“Stella? The boys are here! Shall we come in?”
“Yes, come in”, a cut-glass private-school accent calls out from the other side. A moment later, the three men and Kerry are making their way across a spacious, well-appointed study, towards a slightly oversized antique desk, behind which sits another elegant middle-aged woman – this one a brunette with long, streaked hair, finely sculpted features and an expression as intelligent as it is haughty. As her associate ushers the three men in, the seemingly permanent scowl on the woman’s features momentarily changes to an impish grin, which stretches all the way to her eyes.
“Gentlemen…! How are we?”
“Doing all right, thank you, Stella.” Once again, Nigel is the voice of politeness in the group. “How are you?”
“I could be better, to be quite honest, darling”, Stella states, reaching for and lighting a cigarette, which she neglects to offer to anyone else, “if I knew you had been so kind as to humour my request, and approach the Master Sisters about joining our little enterprise. Still, I don’t mind a little early Christmas surprise…So, when can I expect them?”
The three men’s body language and demeanour – as well as Kerry’s – quickly brings the frown back to the woman’s features, alongside a fearsome glower.
“Surely you HAVE approached them? Having been notified THREE WEEKS ago now?”
“Erm…well…you see, Stella…the thing is…” For once, Rupert Royston-Fellowes is uncharacteristically tongue-tied, forcing his partner to once again take the reins of the conversation.
“The thing is, Rupert is uneasy approaching them about a partnership, when our first interaction for the better part of six years involved the three of them hitting the two of us with chairs…”
“ASSAULTING the two of us with chairs”, the blonde half of the Best of British tag team growls. “For God’s sake, let’s call a spade a spade!”
“All right, Rupert”, Nigel soothes, “calm down, mate…”
Rupert, however, continues to visibly seethe, drawing an Eyebrow of Disapproval from their interloper, and forcing the hitherto silent Davey-Boy O’Brien to get involved in the discussion himself.
“Wait a tick, mates,” Davey chimes in with his gruff Scottish accent. “Ah understand yer reservations, buh this ain’t a discussion. There’s no conversation t’ be ‘ad. Miss Chalmers-Blythe ain’t sittin’ ‘ere to ‘ear our reasons or excuses.” A scolding tone evolves out of Davey’s reasoning with his stablemates. “She’s out fer results, an’ Ah’ve been quiet up to this time about the whinin’, cryin’, and complainin’, buh I refuse to lose our backing because a couple of dolts fancy not holdin’ up their end o’ the bargain.”
Rupert opens his mouth to object, but Davey-Boy raises an interjecting hand, immediately silencing Royston-Fellowes. “The only thing I want t’ ‘ear from yer mouth, Rupert, is that yer prepared t’ acquiesce t’ Miss Chalmers-Blythe’s request.” Davey lowers his hand as he pauses long enough for Rupert to speak. Meanwhile, Stella’s eyes are steady on Davey’s face with a bit of an intrigued smirk on her beautiful features.
A tense few moments follow, without a word spoken, before Nigel Kensington III shocks his partner and lifelong friend by stepping in towards Davey-Boy and placing a hand on his shoulders.
“As a matter of fact”, he states, gazing unwaveringly at Rupert, “I feel inclined to agree with David in this instance.” Unshaken by Rupert’s expression of mixed astonishment and fury, he now gestures towards the woman behind the desk. “Stella is our financial backer…our *investor*. She has every right to demand full returns on her investment…which, in this case, is us. So, if the investment was planned out to include the Master Sisters…then, the Master Sisters it should include.”
Stella nods, a grin on her features, as Kensington once again lifts his gaze towards his partner, a mischievous smirk now on his own countenance. “Besides…everyone in this room knows the *real* reason you are so wary of approaching those ladies. We were all there six years ago…”
“SHUT IT, Nigel”, Rupert roars, glowering venomously at his partner.
“He IS right, though, darling”, Kerry chimes in, speaking up for the first time in a long few moments. “I DO remember you trying to…”
“Could we *not* talk about that, please, Kerry?” Though nowhere near as incensed as it was when addressing Nigel, Rupert’s tone has lost none of its sulky sharpness. “That has NO bearing whatsoever in the present circumstances!”
“Riiiight…” Nigel can barely suppress a chuckle. “None whatsoever. Of course not.” Then, in a more serious tone: “Honestly, mate, you are acting dreadfully immature about all of this. You were wrong to mix business with pleasure to begin with, and now you are letting your feelings cloud your judgement, and get in the way of what is really important. If Uncle Henry were here, he would be the first to remind you that that sort of behaviour is not good for business…”
“We should not HAVE to do business!!” Royston-Fellowes’ voice now carries a touch of despair underneath the obvious anger. “We should not HAVE to do ANYTHING! We are WEALTHY! We should be able to do whatever we want and like, and not a single thing besides!”
Another long moment of silence follows this diatribe – one once again broken by Nigel, whose tone has now become surprisingly icy.
“Yes. I agree. Which is why, right now, *I* am ensuring I continue to do what I want and like. If you feel differently, by all means…” The darker-haired man gestures towards the office door in a would-be inviting manner. “I know where *I* stand on this matter.” Then, to Stella: “We will approach the Master Sisters after the Christmas break…” He shoots another meaningful look towards his partner: “…*with* or *without* Rupert’s assistance.”
The brunette nods. “Good. I knew at least *one* of you had a good sense of priorities.” Then, by way of dismissal: “I expect to hear from the girls soon.”
With that, and with no further matters left to discuss, the three men are escorted back to their cars by the ever-solicitous Kerry, whose attempts to lighten the mood are not quite enough to counter the myriad of baleful looks being exchanged within The United Kingdom. No further words are, however, spoken, as the men regain their respective vehicles, pull away from the stately manor and speed off downhill.
The cameras open up inside a lavish party area; it looks decorated to the nines, where we see many businesses gathered together and several other high-status guests dressed to the nines. A significant event is set to happen, but what is going on? Soon, there is a commotion as a short man in a flashy suit takes the microphone as security bursts through the door. “Here ye, please give your utmost respect, reverence, and honor to your Majesty, the very face of Global herself, your beautiful and benevolent Queen, Queen Bianca Davis!”
A red carpet is rolled as people are throwing flowers onto it, and stepping into the scene is the woman of the hour herself. She is dressed to the nines in a lavish purple gown, with her royal cape over her shoulders, matching the gown with gold Gucci high-heel pumps and her trademark scepter and crown. As she looks around, the crowd claps for her. She looks at the man before saying, “Simon, next time with more feeling!” Bianca says in a demanding tone. As the man nods, he also apologizes, “I am sorry, my Queen, it won’t happen again.” Bianca replies in a direct tone,” Good, better not.”
One of the executives, a heavy-set man, comes up, extending his hand as Bianca looks down. She holds hers out in return, and he shakes it. However, she soon points at the ring on it. He gets the hint and kisses it before saying, “It’s an honor to meet you in person. I have heard so much about you, and I believe you are what Global needs to take it to the next level.” Bianca puts her hand on her heart, pretending to be touched by that statement. “Thank you, yes, you made the best choice Queen Bianca, the face of Global; what a headline, don’t you agree?” Bianca said, using her hands to emphasize the point. As she moves toward another executive, this was a shorter, balding man with thick-rimmed glasses. He goes to shake hands with the bell of the ball, but once again, she points at the ring on her gloved finger, and he kisses it.
The man then speaks to her enthusiastically, “Hello, Miss Davis. It’s an honor and privilege to make your acquaintance.” Bianca soon responded, “The pleasure is all yours, and it is Queen; please remember that.” The man nodded and said, “Right, I am sorry, Queen Bianca Davis, it won’t happen again.” Bianca nods, pleased with the apology, and she moves on to a group of executives standing side by side. They spot her and moved toward her as one piped up:” Here she is, our future superstar and face of the Global brand!” Another pipes up soon after: “What an impactful debut you had; I can’t wait for your first match,” says the young woman with a ponytail. After she speaks, another woman with shorter hair spoke, “Agreed, sorry everything wasn’t right, but we will make sure that is taken care of from now on; we can’t have our star not getting the treatment she deserves” Bianca nods very happily with the statements being made. “Thank you, thank you. Those cretins will pay for their disrespect but see to it. It was a total slight against me.” Bianca then puts out her hand. Each kisses the ring much like the others before she saunters off. She soon grabs the microphone in the center from Simon.
“Thank you, all my loyal subjects, for this honor; this is how a Queen should be treated, and a superstar of my caliber should be honored. But I know that all of you are wondering, what are my plans for the coming year and Global?” Bianca pauses a moment, soaking in the adulation of her crowd before speaking again. “I plan to be the face of this brand, the one it needs; it is clear that people need someone to aspire to; the world is a hard place. Who is better than me? A woman who is classy, sophisticated, intelligent, and driven. A woman who always goes for what she wants and gets it. Global superstars will have the same choice you all made tonight. Either they will bend the knee and kiss the ring. If they do that, they will be favored in the coming age and benefit from my benevolent rule. Still, if they decide to oppose me, well…” Bianca pauses for another moment as an evil smirk appeared on her face, “Then they will suffer the consequences because no one, and I mean no one, disrespects the Queen.” Bianca says in a commanding tone as she stood. The people clap through some murmurs about the declaration she gave. The scene fades to black as the young woman does her trademark royal wave.
DRAMA AT THE FIT FACTORY (1)
MONDAY – 4:30 AM
The door opens to the Fit Factory, and Jimmy Classic and Trae Larkin of the Prime Time Athletes enter the GLOBAL workout facilities. The two men look around, and a satisfied smile forms across the two men as they enter the battlefield of steel and iron and set down their bags.
Jimmy Classic turns to his partner, satisfied, proclaiming, “Looks like the Health Fanatics aren’t the most dedicated tag team these days. I guess they are getting a little sloppy.”
The two men position themselves to begin their workout as Trae Larkin laminates. “I bet they stopped for some donuts or something on the way. It looks like the only thing they are fanatics about is Dunken Donuts.”
The two men continue their workout as a little time passes. Finally, the usual gym openers – Damon Somner and Greg Matthews of the Health Fanatics, enter the gym but quickly stop fast in their tracks as they notice they were beaten at their own game by the Prime Time Athletes.
Damon Somner turns to his partner with a shocked look, but Greg Matthews has no answers. Jimmy Classic turns to the “late” arrivers with a smug look and asks, “What took you two so long?”
Trae Larkin follows up by asking, “You aren’t going to keep that form slacking like this, boys.”
The Prime Time Athletes look proud of themselves as they have gotten under the skin of the Health Fanatics and interrupted their morning routine.
Greg Matthews mutters, “Let’s hit the pool first. I can’t listen to these loudmouths.” The Health Fanatics turn and head out of the gym area towards the pool, but Jimmy Classic gets the final words in before they make it too far.
“We plan to be here awhile. Have fun getting those laps in!”
You can feel the tension growing between the two teams as the Health Fanatics look back at the arrogant duo one final time before disappearing through the door.
"ALECZANDER THE GREAT Vs "THE FAT MAN" STEVE DANN
“We’ve got easily one of the biggest physical matches we’ve ever had since GLOBAL opened its doors!” Lucas Quinn tells the audience. “Up next, the self-proclaimed “GLOBAL Hall of Famer” is about to go one-on-one against a man that impressed many back on DOMINATION 1, “The Fat Man” Steve Dann!”
“Listen to these stats!” exclaims Mark Deltzer. “Aleczander The Great! Six-four, two-hundred sixty-four pounds. Steve Dan! Six-two, three-hundred seventy-pounds! And he can move for that height.”
“Dann and Aleczander are both looking for a singles win here to propel them into title consideration!” Allie Reece says. “Dann gave Victor Ingram Price a run for his money back on DOMINATION 1, only for VIP to come up victorious. There’s no doubt Steve Dann can get it done when he needs to, but he’s gotta put some results together. Meanwhile, Aleczander is coming off a win in his debut match to end the year 2022 over Flanagan and wants to continue that momentum.”
“With that all said,” Quinn tells the viewing audience, “let’s get to the ring for this BIG match-up!”
Viewers are now treated to the lovely tones of ‘Downtown’ Jason Brown as he reads his vitals: “The following singles match is set for one fall! Introducing first, from Shreveport, Louisiana, weighing three hundred and seventy pounds…It Ain’t Over Until…’The Fat Man’ STEEEEEEVE DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN….WIIIIIINS!”
“The Fat Man” by Fats Domino.
The GLOBAL Nation shows some love for the big man as he makes his way out from behind the curtain and raises his hands for the fans. The overweight, but still agile LA native makes his way down to the ring. He looks more determined than he was on DOMINATION 1 as he was defeated by a man many consider to be among the top of GLOBAL’s stars, Victor Ingram Price aka VIP. Dann enters the ring through the ropes and then throws his hands up one more time, then throws a few imaginary shots to the opponent coming out next.
“And his opponent… from right here in Hollywood, California by way of Manchester, England… he weighs in at 264 pounds and he demands to be referred to as GLOBAL’s First-Ever Hall of Famer…”
The opening piano intro to “Hall of Fame” by The Script feat. will.i.am starts to play and already, the crowd starts booing.
On stage, an unnamed pair of blonde female presenters are on stage much like his debut with a bouquet of yellow flowers and a plaque respectively. The music plays as two fountains of golden pyro start to shoot out from either side of the stage…
“ALECZANDER THE GREAT!”
The Gilded Great as he has also anointed himself, wears his signature wrestling attire. Golden thigh-length trunks and knee pads, pristine white boots and white wrist tape, gold-tinted sunglasses, a golden bandana and about four or five gold chains around his neck. He holds his arms out and steps around in a circle to show off his admittedly fantastic physique. Once he’s finished, the female presenters each take an arm and then walk on either side of the self-proclaimed Hall of Famer before heading to the ring.
The booing is louder the longer this goes on until Aleczander is handed his flowers and Hall of Fame plaque. They each kiss Aleczander on the cheek and then start walking. He slowly walks up the steps but as the jeers get louder, he asks for a microphone. When he gets one, he motions for his music to pipe down.
“All right, all right, cut me music, tech monkeys!” Aleczander demands.
The music goes off and the mic goes up again as Aleczander’s presenters leave ringside. Steve Dann looks around and remains in the corner with his arms folded as Aleczander addresses the GLOBAL Nation.
“All right, wankers! I just ran like eight miles before this show so you’re only getting me great golden entrance only once tonight.”
The crowd cheers that for one!
“Hey! Hey! Don’t you cheer that!” he shouts. “I’m like that Goofy wanker meme. I’ll [BLEEP]ing do it again! You’ll get me pristine entrance all over again if you don’t stop!”
More cheering from the fans just to get under his skin. Aleczander balls up his fists.
“Okay, okay… I told all of you that I was only gonna do me entrance once! I have plans tonight! I wanted the biggest and the best for me second match in GLOBAL… and judging by this fat tosser behind me, they settled for the biggest. That’s fine!”
He turns to Steve Dann.
“Wanker, you stay there and I dunno… wipe the cheeto dust out of your hair or something, we’ll have me entrance again and then we’ll brawl, yeah?”
Steve Dann offers a retort. He motions for the microphone. Aleczander gives it to him…
…Then gets decked in the mouth by Dann!
Seeing as how the action is going to start now, the official calls for the bell!
The Fat Man follows up on the first punch with two more big soup bones that put Aleczander The Great in the corner! He snatches off Aleczander’s glasses, then throws them out of the ring to cheers from the crowd!
“Hey!” Aleczander shouts.
After Dann gets done disposing of the glasses, Aleczander returns fire with a big uppercut under the chin! He grabs Dann’s arm and then leads him to the corner before he fires off another big uppercut…
After he’s been doubled over, Aleczander The Great rips off his chains and then throws them out of the ring.
“Don’t touch me chains! There’s four there and if any of them are missing, it’s your arse!” he shouts at a ringside attendant.
He goes back to boot Steve Dann in the chest with a series of stomps to the chest of the big man! The Fat Man is still upright, but barely when Aleczander grabs him by the arm. He goes to whip him out of the corner…
But Steve Dann reverses it first and sends Aleczander back-first across the ring into empty corner! The Gilded Great stumbles forward right into the grip of Dann, who smiles.
Side belly-to-belly suplex!
He plants Aleczander down and goes for a cover!
Aleczander throws the shoulder up first to avoid the near loss! Dann gets more cheers from The GLOBAL Nation as he tries to pick up Aleczander, only to get a rake of the eyes! The official reprimands Aleczander for what he’s done, but he ignores him and grabs the arm. Once again, though, Dann is able to reverse and send Aleczander into the corner. Dann gets ready and points at the corner with both fingers before charging in for a splash…
Aleczander The Great moves out of the corner, then he charges in and NAILS Dann with a big corner clothesline! The Fat Man gets the wind knocked out of him while Aleczander poses around the ring to loud booing.
“Hall of Fame working here, mates! Show me some love!”
He gets done with that and goes back to laying boots to Steve Dann.
Dann doubles him over with a two-handed throat thrust! Aleczander grabs his throat and then rolls out between the ropes and to the floor now that he no longer has the advantage. He’s clearly trying to catch his breath and find a way to get around the determined Steve Dann. The Fat Man has had enough of Aleczander’s antics and follows him to the floor. Aleczander is still hunched over while holding his throat…
He tries a right, but Dann blocks and hits one of his own! Aleczander goes stumbling backward to the ring post. Dann gets more cheers from The GLOBAL Nation when he charges…
But Aleczander moves and shoves him into the post first!
The crowd jeers as The Mancunian Muscle taps his forehead and then uses some power to try and get The Fat Man back inside the ring. Once the Shreveport native is back inside, Aleczander walks up the steps and then starts to climb the turnbuckle looking for his next move. He waits up top for Dann to get back up…
FLYING SHOULDER BLOCK!
Right off the top turnbuckle, Aleczander nails Steve Dann and finally knocks the big man off his feet for the first time since the match began. He crawls over and hooks a leg.
The shoulder of Dann comes up first! Aleczander angrily slaps his hand three times at the official and tells him that he should have had a three-count, but they disagree strongly and hold up only two fingers. Dann quickly tries to get back up again, but Aleczander rushes and CLUBS him in the chest with a big running double sledge! He stumbles over and then Aleczander takes him down with a big swinging neckbreaker!
With Dann down in the center of the ring, Aleczander looks out to the crowd… then the bandana comes off!
He runs the ropes… and then the other side…
MORE POWER TO YOUR ELBOW!
He drops a hard driving elbow right into the forehead of The Fat Man! He covers the Louisiana native next and hooks a leg!
Dann is bound and determined to make up for his loss on DOMINATION 1 to VIP with a win tonight, but Aleczander The Great is not making it easy. As Dann tries to get up again, Aleczander uses his big bicep to throw a big crossface punch. The blow sends him away a bit and Dann tries to get to the ropes… but Aleczander is there to clubber away at him with more crossface punches in the ropes!
“Clanging and banging, mates!” He shouts.
The official gives him until a five-count to break it up when Aleczander The Great breaks it up after four so he can milk the count to its maximum. Steve Dann is still hurt near the ropes while Aleczander The Great stands up on the middle rope nearby to loud booing.
“Another Hall of Fame performance for you ungrateful wankers of the GLOBAL Nation!”
The Mancunian Muscle gets off the buckles while Dann tries to get up before slugging him across the chin with another big uppercut. Dann is hunched over in the ropes when Aleczander boots him in his large stomach. He doubles The Fat Man over and then looks to take him over with either a powerbomb or a piledriver of some sort.
“Watch this wanker go flying!” Aleczander shouts.
He picks him up Dann and has him UP just a bit… enough to pop the crowd! But Dann kicks his legs frantically to keep himself from going vertical. Aleczander clubs him across the back two more times to wear him down, then tries again…
Only to get a back body drop from Dann!
Aleczander tumbles over while The Fat Man tries to get his bearings back. He crawls into a corner to try and get himself back up after Aleczander The Great has been in control for the last few minutes. Aleczander finds what he thinks might be a safe haven from his husky opposition, but when Dann sees where he is, he gets cheers from the crowd…
When he’s got his bearings back, he charges… right into a boot from Aleczander! He stumbles him backwards and Aleczander laughs as he takes his turn at the ropes. He swings for what looks like an axe bomber that he calls The Golden Touch…
Dann ducks and hits the ropes as Aleczander bounces off the rebound…
SPINNING WHEEL KICK BY DANN!
Dann cannot follow up with the cover, but he has completely FLATTENED Aleczander The Great with the flying kick off the ropes and The GLOBAL Nation go wild as The Fat Man might be singing yet after all!
Small pockets of “DANN! DANN! DANN!” start to ring out through The Globe @ Stage 49! Dann is feeling it from the crowd as he’s holding his head and neck. Meanwhile, Aleczander is blinking repeatedly at the ceiling lights, hoping that the spinning wheel kick from Dann hasn’t caused any long-term damage or more importantly, ruined his chiseled facial structure.
Aleczander starts to get up, but Dann is right there behind him and knocks Alecz over with a big back elbow off the ropes. When he tries to get up a second time, Dann uses a running clothesline this time and knocks down The Gilded Great into the mat. Aleczander is in a daze when he stands up, only to get an inverted atomic drop from the big man… THEN A STANDING DROPKICK!
Dann is pulling out all the stops tonight as he knocks Aleczander back into a corner! Dann gets up and charges in, flattening Aleczander like a pancake with a big body avalanche in the corner, then follows it up…
The flipping corner enzuigiri from the big man completely waffles Aleczander! He doubles over when Dann pushes him to the mat and hooks the far leg as he counts along with his free hand!
Aleczander throws his free shoulder off the mat at the last possible half-second! The crowd seems to start believing in Dann in tonight’s showing, perhaps putting extra effort into tonight’s match after he came up short to VIP two shows prior. Dann looks out to The GLOBAL Nation and then picks up Aleczander by the head to deliver a right hand.
He stumbles Aleczander over, but Alecz fires back with a big uppercut! He throws a second one and then stuns him in place. He tries to run at Dann, but Dann swings back with an elbow that knocks Aleczander loopy! Dann has him where he wants him when he whips Aleczander into the ropes, only for The Gilded Great to hang on!
The Fat Man charges forward… but Aleczander grabs him by the trunks and pulls him neck-first into the ropes!
The crowd jeers the shady tactics as Dann is left gasping for air. Aleczander plants his legs firmly into the mat and looks like he’s about ready to try something big…
THE AIRPORT TEST!
A collective gasp rings out through The Globe as Aleczander HOISTS UP STEVE DANN and plants him with the thrust spinebuster called The Airport Test!
Aleczander stumbles back, but lets out a yell after showing off his amazing strength to be able to hit the massive spinebuster! He leans back into the corner as Dann is stumbling, barely able to move himself. Aleczander grins.
THE HALL OF FAME INDUCTION!
The massive running spear almost splits Steve Dann in half! Aleczander rolls through the impact of the move and hooks both legs.
DING DING DING
Aleczander sits up and laughs victoriously as he sits up. He eventually brushes himself off and hobbles his way back to his feet when the referee raises his hand.
“Here is your winner of the match…” says Jason Brown. “ALECZANDER THE GREAT!”
Steve Dann has given it his best effort tonight, but a little foul play from the self-professed GLOBAL Hall of Famer has allowed him to go 2-0 in his GLOBAL tenure! He raises his hands up and then heads to the outside to collect both his chains and sunglasses. Aleczander limps away from ringside and flexes an arm into the sky.
“HALL OF FAME STRENGTH! RIGHT THERE!” Aleczander shouts. “I’M GONNA CARRY GLOBAL ACROSS THESE SHOULDERS, MATES! JUST YOU WATCH!”
Steve Dann eventually gets helped up and gets some cheers from the fans himself for his efforts. As he tries to leave, the show rolls on.
Have you ever dreamed of owning your VERY OWN WASHING MACHINE?
Well now, you can!
Imagine the hours you can spend in the kitchen just watching this bad boy go around, and around, and around, and around, and around.
It washes all of your husbands clothes by going around and around and around and around.
Imagine your husbands face when he finds you have washed all of his work shirts in a single load of laundry.
Oh, how pleased he will be!
And that’s what this is ALL ABOUT, right?
This dreary pointless existence of yours?
It’s all to make HIM happy.
You’d do well to remember that.
He shouldn’t have to tell you twice.
There’s a cute little drawer for you to put some pleasant smelling powder and liquid in. Look. It goes here before you start the machine.
Oh the lovely smells. We’ve made the liquid PINK for you. See?
And once you’ve done that you can sit with a coffee in your kitchen with your apron on and you can watch in awe as it goes around and around and around and around and around.
Oh, how he will BEAM when his shirts are washed.
Maybe he will lay off the liquor that night.
But he is under a lot of pressure at the office. His boss wants those numbers. Which numbers? Don’t worry about it. We don’t understand either!
Just use the washing machine. Watch it as it goes around and around and around as you develop a crippling drinking problem of your own. Sat there. Alone. In your kitchen. Watching the magic machine going around… and around… and around…
Text reading “EARLIER THIS WEEK…” appears in the bottom corner.
A hand drops a quarter into a parking meter. It goes to drop another, but it slips and falls to the ground.
“Dammit.” The owner of the hand bends down, picks up the quarter, and drops it in. It’s The Informer.
He walks up to the door of an establishment with a sign reading “EL DIOS DORADO” above it. He opens it and steps inside.
The establishment is a bar. An old bar with slightly weathered countertops, but a clean one. The walls are adorned with photographs of lucha libre legends, ranchero musicians, and Mexican celebrities of the mid 20th century. There’s an analog clock on the wall behind the bar. It reads 2 minutes before 12 noon. As such, there is only one patron present: a young man sitting at the bar with a Modelo in hand scrolling on his phone.
The bartender is cleaning glasses. An older woman, 50s or 60s by the look of her. She hears the door opening, turns around, and sees the Informer walking up to the bar. She goes white.
“Ayayay!” She turns in the direction of the back room. “JULIO!” She then smiles. She says, with a heavy accent, “Welcome, sir!”
The Informer is slightly puzzled. He is less puzzled when a young man with shaggy hair wearing a t-shirt with an indecipherable heavy metal band logo on it emerges. He doesn’t look much older than 21. His face lights up as he sees why his mother called him.
“OH!” Julio quickly runs around the counter. “Mr. Informer!” Julio walks right up to him and extends his hand, which The Informer takes and shakes. “Huge fan of your site. Can I… get a photo?”
“Uh… sure.” Julio pulls out his phone and snaps a selfie with a slightly bewildered-looking Informer.
“Thank you!” exclaims Julio. He turns and leans in close to The Informer’s ear. In a hushed, serious tone, he says: “Private room. Down those stairs behind me. Third door on the left. Knock exactly four times. That’s how he’ll know it’s you.” He pulls away and perks up again. “You drinkin’ anything today?”
The Informer holds up his hand. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Hey man, let me know if you need anything! Good luck with GLOBAL! We love it so far!”
“Thanks,” says The Informer. Julio disappears into the back room once again. The Informer heads for the stairs and climbs down. At the bottom, there’s a narrow hallway with four black doors on the left side and two on the right. As instructed, The Informer heads to the third door and knocks four times.
The door opens. It’s Crusader X, masked and wearing a plain black shirt, with an open Mandarin Jarritos in hand. “Ahhh, Informer! Good to see you!”
“You as well, X.” They shake hands.
Crusader beckons him inside. “Come in! Come in! Have a seat.” He shuts the door. The room has four chairs seated around a single table. They both sit. X sets his drink on the table.
The Informer looks X up and down and then takes out his phone. “Now, I’d like to get started right away. You ready?”
X shrugs and smiles. “Born ready!” His smile fades. “Now, don’t forget our agreement-“
“No questions about your past before wrestling, your former partner, or Los Vagabundos.” says The Informer flatly. “Don’t worry. This interview is strictly about you and GLOBAL.”
X nods. “Alright! Let’s do it.”
The Informer sets up his audio recording app. He sets it on the table and hits record.
The Informer puts on his best presenter voice. “Greetings, GLOBAL fans! I’m joined here today by Crusader X, a lucha libre sensation looking to take the GLOBAL Stage by storm. X, thank you for joining me.”
“Thank you for having me!”
“So, after the second episode of Domination wrapped, I approached you to set up an interview at Domination 3. You insisted on doing it earlier in the week off-site at a location you described as “your favorite bar in LA”. I have to know. Why the location?”
X sits back. “Well, I used to wrestle in LA a few times a year for a couple really sleazy indie promotions. They’re both gone now. Thank God. After each show, me and the other boys would always come straight over here. We’d drink until like 4AM, stumble back to the hotel, and wake up with no memory of the past 48 hours. Now, I don’t drink anymore, but whenever I’m in town, I still come here for Jarritos.” He picks up the bottle and wiggles it in his hand before setting it back down. “The owners are great people. And they love wrestling. Perfect spot to meet up with you.”
“Interesting.” The Informer nods. “But why have me conduct the interview off site in the first place?”
“Simple. You probably have a lot to ask me. I’m probably gonna have a lot to say. And I don’t want us to be interrupted.”
“You mean like last week when you interrupted Alfie Button and I?”
X grins. “EXACTLY like that.” He takes a swig.
The Informer nods and gives a thoughtful “hmmm.” He continues. “That’s actually why I’m here today. The moment you stepped between us, I had to know more. So. What is your endgame with Alfie Button?”
X looks slightly baffled. “My… endgame? I want to train with him and tag with him. That’s it.”
“Surely there’s more to it than that.”
X shakes his head. “No. I admire Alfie. I think he’s a very good wrestler. He took a tough loss last week, but that changes nothing. His resume speaks for itself. We’re both flyers, so I think we’d be a natural fit to help each other improve. Most importantly, though, I think he has the right mindset for this sport. I think that if he wrestles and trains with like-minded people, he can go from good to one of the greatest of all time. It’s already working out well with him and Amber Lee, another good wrestler with the right mindset. If Alfie worked with me, too-“
The Informer interrupts. “You think you’re the one who could help him become one of the greatest of all time?”
X smiles again. “I think that WE could become TWO of the greatest of all time. Together. Iron sharpens iron.”
The Informer tilts his head to the side. “Button is right, though. You don’t know him.”
X appears nonplussed by this statement. “No. Not personally. But I don’t need to know him personally to know I’d like to work with him professionally. His wrestling skill and his mindset tell me all I need to know.” He takes another sip.
“You’re talking a lot about ‘the right mindset’ for professional wrestling.” The Informer clasps his hands together. “Now, I actually wanted to ask you about this: You hold some views on professional wrestling that some of your peers and some fans have called ‘radical’ or ‘extreme’. What exactly is ‘the right mindset’ for wrestling in your eyes?”
X sits back. “Well… passion, first off. A deep love of competition. A hunger to learn and to innovate. The drive to improve. Humility. Respect. For the fans, for the rules, and for your peers. But above all else: integrity, honesty, and the desire to make this sport better.”
“That’s the right mindset for wrestling.” The informer looks him straight on.
“What’s the wrong mindset?”
X laughs. He leans forward. As he speaks, his smile fades completely and the look on his face becomes much harsher. “Well, look around you. Look at who GLOBAL management has decided to bring in. GLOBAL tried to present itself as a fresh start for professional wrestling. I believe in that vision. That’s why I’m here. And some of my peers here fit that vision. Alfie. Amber. Big Aug. Son of Malta. Great competitors. They have integrity. But the moment I arrived, I saw far too many of the exact same parasites who have been sucking this sport dry for years. People who take the easy route and get draped in gold for it. People who are in this sport to hurt or injure others for the sake of it. People who don’t want this sport to evolve or improve. And promoters who just let it all happen and watch the dollars roll in.” X takes the bottle, tilts his head back, and drains the rest of it before letting out an “Ahhhh.”
X’s face stays severe, but he gives a slight smile at the question. He tilts the bottle toward The Informer as he speaks for emphasis. “I’m glad you asked. You have Daniel Dream. You saw what he did to Alfie. Great wrestler. No respect. No integrity. Jed Johnson. He claims to be trying to protect wrestling, but he’s “protecting” it from honest, skilled competitors while his old ass has been letting the true sickness fester for decades. Aleczander the Average, a man who has embarrassed this sport over and over in his pursuit of fame. E Z Rah. He has so much natural talent, but he has no respect for the sport or anyone else in it. He cares more about selling those… those ugly pictures-“
The Informer interjects. “NFTs.”
X shakes his head violently. “Yeah. Those. Whatever they’re called. I don’t give a damn. No one else gives a damn. And E Z Rah should stop giving a damn too if he wants to beat Son of Malta. There’s Alex Reyn, too. Another man with natural talent who squanders it. Just another freak who does this because he enjoys hurting people. Oh. And then there’s Sean Darring.”
“Darring?” The Informer is taken aback at the sudden mention of the beloved figure.
X rolls his eyes. “‘The Legend’. Give me a goddamn BREAK. That man spent his whole career lying and cheating his way to the top. Then he has a midlife crisis and starts fighting clean and now everyone loves him? Does anyone actually think that that tiger’s changed his stripes?”
The Informer shrugs. “…I don’t know, I think he has. I-“
X grins. “REALLY? I’ll bet you that we’re gonna see the real Sean Darring in GLOBAL very soon.” He tilts the bottle in The Informer’s direction. “You’ll see.” He sets the bottle down and sits back.
The Informer rubs a hand over his forehead. “Well… maybe I will. I will say that I’ve followed Sean a long time and that even though he’s changed his ways, he’s never been as dangerous in the ring as he is now. And that leads to my next question. How do you plan on removing these “parasites” from pro wrestling?”
X leans forward and firmly places his fist on the table, shaking the bottle slightly. “Beat ’em. One by one. Middle of the ring. I’m going to show them that their ways can get them money, fame, and titles, but that it can’t get them through me. And through that, and through other honest competitors like Alfie and Amber defeating these parasites, too, the world will see the truth and wrestling will be forced to change. And when that day comes-“
The Informer cuts X off. “Wait. So, you think you can defeat these ‘parasites’? You think you can beat veterans like Dream, Johnson, Reyn, Aleczander, Darring-“
It’s X’s turn to interrupt. “I think that I can beat every single wrestler in that locker room.”
“WOW.” The Informer sits forward, slackjaeed. “You… think that YOU’RE the BEST wrestler on the GLOBAL roster?”
X scoffs. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And I bet almost every other member of that locker room thinks the same of themselves. At least… they should. Oh, and if any of you are reading this and have a problem with what I’m saying? Face me. One on one. In the ring. Step up and prove me wrong.”
The Informer raises his eyebrow. “So, you won’t just wrestle so-called “parasites”. You’ll wrestle anyone. You’ll take on all comers.”
The Informer sits forward in his seat. “So, if it came down to it, you think you’d be able to beat Alfie Button, too.”
X’s expression shifts. For the first time in this interview, after all of his bravado, he seems almost… reluctant. “Well, yes. And I know that he also thinks that he could beat me. And that’s what I want. That’s why I want to work with him. But either way, I would be honored to share a ring with Alfie, whether standing beside him or across from him.”
The Informer clasps his hands together. “So, back to this proposed partnership… is Button part of your plan to purge wrestling of these so-called parasites? Are you trying to spread your views on wrestling to him… or maybe even to others? Is your plan to get them to fight against them alongside you?”
A smirk forms on X’s face. “Wait. Are you asking me if I’m trying to build some kind of army?” He scoffs. “No. No. I can fight my battles myself, thank you. Besides, Alfie already has the right mindset. He already does things the right way. Again, I just think he and I could help each other become better wrestlers. That’s all. And that alone would be reason enough for the parasites to be afraid.”
The Informer nods. “That could be. And that segues nicely into my final question. What exactly do they have to be afraid of? Your record in Mexico and on the US independents is unimpeachable. You’ve gained a lot of underground popularity on social media. Your signing with GLOBAL came with well deserved fanfare. But I must say… you’re talking an awfully big game for someone who has yet to wrestle on the GLOBAL stage. When can we expect your debut?”
X leans forward and looks down. “Great question.” He looks up. “And I have good news! You won’t have to wait long. If you follow GLOBAL anywhere on social media… I’d start checking your phone right after Domination 3.”
“Oh, fhat’s EXCELLENT news! You heard it here first, folks. The announcement of Crusader X’s debut is imminent. Check your social media feeds after Domination 3 for further updates. Well, that’s about all I have. So, X. Do you have any parting words?”
The camera cuts to a full body shot of Crusader X. Slowly, it starts zooming in on his face.
“I do! GLOBAL fans, whether you’ve seen me before or it’s your first time, I can’t wait to show you what I’m capable of on the GLOBAL Stage. Alfie Button, good luck in your match on Domination 3. And Amber Lee? We haven’t spoken yet, but good luck to you as well. I’ll be watching. And to everyone else in the GLOBAL locker room?”
The camera stops, right in front of his face.
Suddenly, it cuts to X’s logo flashing on the screen and glitching out as the feedback from the start of “Governed by Contagions” by At the Drive-in plays. As soon as the feedback is done, the logo abruptly cuts to black.
AMBER LEE AND ALFIE BUTTON V THE PLAYERS
On Domination 1, a chance encounter between Amber and Alfie backstage brought about a blossoming friendship that has got tongues wagging about whether it could develop into a relationship.
Earlier on tonight, another meeting between Amber and Alfie was interrupted by the latter’s old rivals, Kid Chameleon and Paul Sanders, AKA The Players. What started out as civil and friendly soon escalated, and while things didn’t get out of hand per se, here we are for a classic case of…two-upmanship.
A trip to the late 90s with the sound of ‘Sexy Boy’ by Air, and an emotional moment for Paul Sanders, who hasn’t been seen in a wrestling ring for the last few years, since being put on the shelf by one Alex Reyn during Reyn’s nbW debut. He has had doubts about whether he’d ever return, and here he is, alongside his lifelong friend no less, about to take on a terrific duo in Amber Lee and Alfie Button. For now, his theme playing, yellow tights and boots, with ‘International Playboy’ imprinted on the rear end, looking like a million bucks. Paul might not be from Hollywood, but this, THIS is home.
Kid Chameleon slips out and speaks to The Mark, who confusingly goes for a hug, and then realizes the error of his ways. Kid whispers in his ear, and The Mark then comes over towards the timekeeper’s position to ask for another microphone. The moment The Mark picks up the mike, he’s cheered by the crowd: “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d like to draw your attention to the big screen.”
The screen is lowered from the ceiling ABOVE the ring, so you can’t bloody miss it: “Kid Chameleon, the World’s Greatest Gamer AND now Streamer, and Paul Sanders will be live on Twitch while wrestling tonight. In fact, they’ll be doing a ‘Twitch Chat WRESTLES’ for the very first time, and as a demonstration, I’ll be calling out some moves to Kid Chameleon for tonight only. In future, he’ll be controlled by YOU, the viewers, at home,” The Mark reveals while Kid takes his headset from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, hooking himself up, with some help from ring announcer ‘Downtown’ Jason Brown. Speculation is rife between Quinn and Reece in The Mark’s absence how exactly this will work.
The Mark shouts: “ENJOY,” before handing the microphone and fielding all kinds of questions from his colleagues. Meanwhile…
‘Lose Control’ by Poe The Passenger brings out Amber Lee and Alfie Button, who points to his friend, and the crowd let out a greater cheer for this developing tandem, who won in fine fashion against Health Fanatics on the first Domination.
Alfie then runs ahead, allowing Amber to bask in the spotlight while her music plays, interacting with the fans, exchanging hand slaps and high-fives along the way. Button also holds the ropes open for Amber to step through and they have a brief embrace, and the camera zooms in on Button closing his eyes and imagining his life with this lovely lay before he realizes where he is, and papers over that moment with a ‘Let’s go, darlin’.”
Upon seeing that Kid Chameleon is primed and ready, with Paul Sanders already on the apron, Alfie asks Amber if he can go first. He has as much game as Parker Brothers to get underway, and be Kid Chameleon’s test dummy in ‘Twitch Chat Wrestles’ and is a show off in all senses of the word.
Le smiles back at him, and mouths ‘yes,’ which prompts Button to whisper ‘thank you’ fifty times rather than just once. Despite a defeat to Daniel Dream at Domination 2, there seems to be a spring in the speedster’s step, and it’s hard to tell whether that’s because of who’s in his corner, who’s standing opposite him, the fact that he’s on multiple platforms at the same time and showcasing his skills, or a combination of all the above. A customary Tie-Up sees Alfie start off strongly with one potato, two potato, three, in the form of those annoying ‘I PITY THA FOOL’ Uppercuts. However, he takes his eyes off KC for a moment, and he regrets it a few seconds later when Kid hears The Mark shout out ‘Blazin’ Tornado.’
Something kicks in, and in the blink of an eye, Nintendo’s Number One turns with astonishing speed, accuracy and force with a Spinning Backfist, which forces Alfie to take a knee. As soon as Alfie gets up, he’s left wishing he hadn’t bothered. The World’s Greatest Gamer has formed a baseball bat with his two hands and buries them into the cheeky Cockney’s chest, spinning the brash Brit around before Button’s dropped with an excellent Enzui Lariat.
Reece is aghast: “Er…what just happened?”
The Mark applauds exaggeratedly: “You’ve just seen Kid Chameleon for the first time, soak it in. Kid, A REAL G.”
As Alfie staggers to his feet, Chameleon meets him with a jumping headbutt to the bridge of the nose, before dancing side to side, clapping his hand, which is mirrored by Mark Deltzer on the outside, and a BIG-TIME Lariat that puts Button back on the canvas and wondering which day of the week it is.
“Alfie is quick, and I don’t know if Kid Chameleon is quicker, I suspect it’s in his mind,” Lucas Quinn concludes.
“Amen. Kid couldn’t beat Alfie in a race, but he knows so many moves, and can recall them in an instant,” The Mark points out.
“Representin’ Jersey,” The Mark calls next.
Alfie receives two hard rights to the ribs, a subsequent knee, and then a STONE COLD STUNNER!
Allie shakes her head: “Mark, who is this guy? He is dismantling Alfie Button, wait, I spoke too soon!”
As Kid comes to collect, Alfie caught him napping with a hard European Uppercut, and a second to assert himself before getting aggressive, taking Chameleon by the head, and dropping him across the top rope, Randy Savage style, with a Cliffhanger and a wink to The Mark while he’s down on the ground having completed the Hairpull Hangman, arms outstretched for the audience to give him accolades for his extraordinary athletic ability.
He glances up at the screen himself and nods “Right ya are, MattehTheBest.”
Alfie rolls back in, only to put his foot down and accelerate jumping between the bottom and middle rope, a la Sami Zayn, looking for a Suicide Dive-cum-Tornado DDT, but Kid Chameleon has other ideas, preventing Button from completing the DDT phase and dropping him down, only for Button to land on his feet. Alfie scores with another European Uppercut until The Mark calls out ‘Dynamic Punch’ from behind the desk. Suddenly, something kicks in and Kid alternates with both hands, SLAPPING Alfie twice and flooring him with a HUGE right cross!
“Mark, what on earth did you do?” Allie wonders.
“Sorry, Allie – and Alfie,” The Mark jokes.
Kid tosses Button back in, but unbeknownst to Chameleon, the cocky Cockney has a cheeky look up at the screen and makes a mental note of the next request. Chameleon steers Alfie towards the southern set of ropes, which works perfectly for the speedster’s plan as he reverses the whip and scores with a cracking Corkscrew Elbow as Kid Chameleon arrows back towards Alfie. Then, Button glances over at the screen again and flies low with a Standing Shooting Star Press!
“Wheel of Fortune followed by Heere’s Alfie, and as much as I love Kid Chameleon, what a turnaround by Mister Button, and credit where it’s due,” The Mark resignedly says.
“How do you know, let alone remember, all of this stuff?” Reece demands to know.
“I’m a professional, Allie,” The Mark remarks smugly.
Hands on hips, Alfie waves to the watching audience, here at The Globe and on Twitch: “Britain’s Got Talent, right ya are,” he says rather loudly to himself. He heads to the east side of the squared circle and returns via the middle rope with his patented Springboard Moonsault Pres-Splatter! Kid Chameleon got the knees up, and not only that, a back roll to his part of town brings a returning Paul Sanders back into a wrestling ring for the first time in three years.
Even The Mark on commentary is taken aback by Button busting out a Drop Toe Hold. What happens next doesn’t surprise him, given that he wheeled this out at Domination 2 against Daniel Dream, and that’s walking all over Paul Sanders. Welcome back, Paul!
Alfie takes one final look at the screen and sees several requests for him to tag Amber, which he acknowledges. He smiles as he approaches Miss Lee and knows they’re both aware that several fans have just asked him to tag her in with a kiss. Smiling, he goes to kiss her on the cheek, only for her to turn around at the last minute, and he ends up placing a big smack on her kisser, albeit just for a second. He does a double take, shocked at what has taken place, and checks by wiping his lips, and sure enough. He feigns stumbling to the front-row fans while on the apron, who cheer massively at the moment. Meanwhile, Amber gets on with business on the battlefield.
Sanders stutter-steps towards her, unsure how to approach Amber, and then gets floored by a FANTASTIC Roundhouse Kick!
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Paul Sanders and Amber Lee had crossed paths in a previous life,” Reece deducts.
“They’ve never met before,” The Mark states matter-of-factly.
“THAT’S WHY I said if I didn’t know better, MARK,” Allie says scathingly.
Amber instinctively flops forward and covers Paul.
And a half.
As Paul sits up, Amber is there to greet Sanders with a boot to the midsection. She hooks Paul by his trunks and not only effortlessly elevates him, but also holds him there for ten seconds before dropping him with aplomb, drawing applause in the process.
“What strength by Amber Lee to deliver a Delayed Vertical Suplex like that on someone in the region of two forty, two fifty maybe,” Allie Reece beams from the commentators’ desk.
Amber pays heed to the Twitch stream, making a grand exit and waving to everyone watching on there and in the arena prior to tagging in Alfie. Predictably, he has a quick glance up at the screen, and nods to himself before heading upstairs and perching himself on the top turnbuckle, primed to…
COME ON DOWN!
Alfie gets all of his fabulous Frog Pump Elbow.
Sanders just gets a shoulder up. Alfie patiently waits for Paul to stand and then darts to his left, running the ropes and rebounding into Paul’s path, who showcases his impressive power by setting the Londoner up for a Pop-Up Powerbomb-Falling DDT by Button, which he calls The Weakest Link. Is Paul? He has been, thus far.
Alfie drags Paul up, undeterred by the latest near-fall, and he tags Amber in, keeping hold of Paul until she arrives with a technically perfect Standing Dropkick.
Lee sets about Sanders rather than settling for a lateral press and catches him coming up with a hard right to the head, paving the way for a Full Nelson Slam. Just as she’s about to lock his arms in place, Paul punishes her with an elbow to the breadbasket and a big Belly-to-Back Suplex which offers Sanders some respite, albeit temporarily.
Our double down lasts until 4. Sanders is able to crawl and jump towards his corner, tagging Kid in. Amber contemplates tagging Alfie in but gears up to test herself against Kid Chameleon instead and a Capoeira Kick gets the World’s Greatest Gamer’s attention while a subsequent big boot puts him flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling.
And only 2.
Kid suddenly wakes up and shocks Amber with a right hook followed by a left hook and a kick between the legs, which doesn’t hurt Lee as much as it does other opponents. Amber takes it in her stride, no-sells the punt and wipes Kid out with another wonderful Roundhouse Kick!
Reece gushes: “The only one who doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the Twitch stream is the star in this match. Funny that, isn’t it?”
“Not really. Plus, she was definitely paying attention when Alfie tagged out. That kiss was NO accident,” hisses The Mark.
Rather than going for a cover, Amber hauls Kid up and winds him up with a Short-Arm Clothesline, hanging onto Chameleon’ s left arm before giving him a second one! Chameleon is visibly woozy, and just as it looks like he’s about to eat a third, Amber releases his arm and delivers a stunning Dropkick, which sends him back towards The Players’ portion of the ring, and Paul Sanders tags himself in, which is questioned by every commentator at the desk.
As Sanders comes in, he runs mindlessly and straight into Amber, who hauls Paul up onto her back and lets go with a GTS!!!
Yes, Amber Lee and Alfie Button appear to be TOO good for The Players, particularly Paul. The inquest begins: “I like Paul Sanders a lot, and this isn’t me being biased here, but he made a major mistake tagging in there. Kid was in trouble; however, Paul had taken a lot more punishment and hadn’t been in the ring for at least two, probably three years, and it showed,” The Mark solemnly states.
“I don’t like to agree with my broadcast partner, but he probably has a point,” admits Allie.
Amber and Alfie scale opposite turnbuckles and pose for the fans, both at The Globe and on Twitch as ‘Downtown’ Jason Brown announces their second tandem triumph in as many matches.
Could this be the start of a special relationship, inside AND OUTSIDE of the ring?
E Z COIN
A high quality camera feed opens on a video presented in a live handheld style as it jostles up and down, moving quickly through a crowded street until it reaches a smart looking man with short brown hair and his back to the camera. A couple of pop-up bubbles of text rise up into vision reading: ‘You won’t believe what happens next!’ and ‘Watch till the end!’. A tattooed arm comes into view and grabs the man on the shoulder, turning him round as a voice easily recognisable as E Z Rah starts to talk.
“Hey yo wassup man how’s it going?”
The man stares at the camera for a moment before a smile creeps over his face, his speech pattern is fairly monotonous and seems rehearsed. “Yo it’s E Z Rah! Hey man. I’m a big fan!”
An annoying laugh is heard from behind the camera as E Z responds “Yeah man it’s me. So you a big fan huh? Ever heard of E Z coin?”
“Oh yeah for sure!” Comes the man’s enthusiastic response. “I’ve already invested over a hundred dollars!”
“Oh for real?” E Z questions “You a smart businessman, lemmie give you something real quick”
The camera dips down as E Z reaches inside of his pocket and pulls out his wallet, he reaches inside then holds his hand out to the man which now has a large wad of cash in.
“Are you serious bro?!” The man exclaims.
E Z basically drops the cash on the floor as the man reaches out to take it and the camera starts to move round. A look of annoyance is seen on the stranger’s face as the camera spins to show E Z looking directly into it.
“Turns out making money is super E Z. No fake. Check out my new crypto, E Z coin, available on all good major platforms. And if you spot ya boy out on the street and can prove you got at least a cool hundo invested, you can have whatever physical cash is in my wallet at the time! I don’t need it anymore man! Crypto is the future!”
A long list of terms and conditions start to scroll as E Z throws up a bunch of random fingers and sticks his tongue out to the camera.
DRAMA AT THE FIT FACTORY (2)
WEDNESDAY – 4:30 AM
The Prime Time Athletes arrive again at 4:30 with a pep to their step as Trae Larkin is heard commenting on how lazy the Health Fanatics are; the two arrogant youngsters enter the Fit Factory and are stopped in their tracks as they see Damon Somner standing, spotting Greg Matthews as he is in the middle of bench pressing reps.
Damon Somner is shouting words of encouragement to his partner, “Come on, two more! Show the Prime Time Athletes who the real athletes in GLOBAL are.”
Jimmy Classic is frustrated by the Health Fanatics’ questions about their motives but first tosses an insult. “For two supposed meat heads, my sister can lift that. Are you trying to make a joke out of us?”
Trae Larkin chimes in, “You both know by now we are the prime-time example, and measuring sticks around here.”
Greg Matthews finishes his set and begins to sit up as Damon Somner responds. “Look here, newbies. We are always first in and the last out. We spend more time here than we do with our families. While this is a game to you, it’s our lives.”
Greg Matthews follows up, “We don’t appreciate you turning our workout routines into a pissin’ contest.”
Trae Larkin’s fuse is lit as he steps forward, but Jimmy Classic smiles and places his arm in front of his partner. “It looks like the Health Fanatics can’t stand that there are two better athletes that have taken their place as standard bearers for peak performance and physical condition.”
Those comments get under the Health Fanatics’ skin as both members stand up. Jimmy Classic breaks the tension as he backs his partner up, “We will give you your time, but in one hour, it becomes prime-time hour in this room.”
Greg Matthews quickly responds, “When we finish, we will leave the yoga mats out for you.”
ANGEL "THE KID" RAMIREZ Vs "QUEEN" BIANCA DAVIS
A posse of Latino LA rappers spit about being ‘So Rough, So Tough in LA’ herald the arrival of hometown heroine and absolute newcomer Angel Ramirez, better known as ‘The Kid’. Rather than live up to the song’s menacing atmosphere as she comes through the curtain, however, the teenager appears far more involved with admiring her shoes – two bright pink creations, which she sticks her legs out in front of her the better to gaze upon. As the camera closes in on her, she can be heard commenting to inseparable older-brother figure Saul Morgan about how “these kicks are HELLA dope, no cap” and asking whether he thinks “Val’s really gonna want ’em back”. When Morgan replies in the affirmative, she tries to conceal her dismay with a shrug, before finally appearing to notice the song…and shaking her head! To the fans’ surprise, she then whispers something in Morgan’s ear, which sends the former Marine running to the backstage area; when he resurfaces again moments later, a completely different song is playing – “I’m Good (Blue)”, David Guetta and Bebe Rexha’s reworking of Eiffel 65’s immortal cheesy banger, which has Angel pointing her fingers up to the ceiling of The Globe and openly grooving to the beat, a huge smile on her features as she quips “hell yeah, boiiii! That’s more like it!”
“What the…?!” Mark Deltzer nearly splutters in shocked surprise. “Did she just change her entrance music AFTER she was already out?”
Allie Reece, however, appears much less fazed than her colleague by this occurrence – in fact, even amused – as she counters:
“So what if she did, Mark? She’s good, she’s feelin’ all right, and she’s gonna have the best..” here, the female third of the announce team quickly redacts herself: “…effing night of her life!”
“It may well be the best effing night of her life, too”, velvet-voiced veteran Lucas Quinn puts in. “From what I’ve been told, this girl has had a rough life, and this could be her big chance to turn that around. So of course she’ll be feeling elated out there right now!”
As the East LA native takes off at full speed down the ramp, somehow managing to continue dancing even as she slaps hands and takes selfies, the camera focuses in on a fan’s handmade sign, which turns one of the teen’s sayings from the previous week into a hashtag: “#ValleyVsAlley”.
“What could be so rough about her life?!” ‘The Mark’ is still visibly skeptical. “She’s, what, like fifteen?”
“Yeah, Mark”, Allie quips, not bothering to hide her sarcasm, “because being a teenage girl is SOOOO simple and easy, am I right? Nevermind homeless and a foster kid?”
Before Reece can elucidate her befuddled colleague, however, “All Hail Queen Bianca” is heard over the loud speaker as Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha plays, making this night a two-fer for Rexha bangers. Afterwards, Royal Trumpets blare as being carried in on a throne is none other than the Malibu native herself, doing a Royal Wave while soaking in the negative reaction of the fans. As she is carried out she looks at Angel and Saul with a look of disgust on her face looking down her nose at them as ‘The Mark’ gushes:
“Bow down to the Queen!”
“Hard pass, thanks”, Reece deadpans.
Angel also does not appear too impressed by this display, let alone intimidated, instead scrunching up her face humorously as she shakes her head and looks up at the crowd as if to ask “you guys seeing this?”
In the meantime, Bianca’s throne is placed down as a member of her entourage grabs her hand and helps her down. She looks at the people in the audience, then locks eyes with one particular audience member and points down, ordering them to bend the knee, which the fan does after insistence from the Malibu native, causing a scoff from Allie Reece:
“Pfff…what a simp.”
Apparently, there is more than one “simp” in the audience, as, behind the kneeling fan, a sign can be seen which reads “We stan, Queen” beside a cut-out of Bianca’s face. The woman herself, however, somehow misses it, busy as she is yelling at the stage hand to climb up the steps to hold open the ropes for her. Only after he makes his way up and does just that does the Queen make her up the steps and enter the ring, where she smugly poses soaking in the boos, as she gives everyone a good glimpse before she heads to her corner taking off her crown and handing to one of her entourage, then undoing her cape and handing it off along with her sceptre. She then leans into the corner scoffing at her opponent disgusted she is even sharing a ring with them – a feeling which appears to be mutual, although, in Angel’s case, it is mostly conveyed through sarcastic grimaces and quips.
“Both these women are from right here in LA, but from completely different social backgrounds”, Allie explains. “Bianca is from Malibu, and Angel is apparently originally from East LA, though I heard she grew up on the streets and had been drifting around LA County with Saul before GLOBAL signed them up. Which I guess really DOES make this a battle of the Alley versus the Valley!”
Neither Alley nor Valley has too much time to mouth off, however, as the bell rings a few seconds later, signalling the start of the match. Angel, still in a provocative mood, taunts the ‘Queen’ by striking up a stance somewhere between movie kung-fu and Power Rangers, complete with the requisite noises. Her demeanour changes very quickly, however, when Bianca rushes forward with a running knee lift, which doubles Angel over, allowing the ‘Queen’ to follow through with her trademark sit-out facebuster!
“Looks like the kid just got the Queen’s Makeover”, Deltzer quips. “And she sure as heck needed one…”
Rather than go for the early cover, however, Bianca elects instead to continue inflicting punishment on her opponent, slapping on a leg lock. Instinct, however, drives Angel to mule-kick her way out of the predicament, grazing the ‘Queen’ in the process, and buying her just enough time to scramble to the nearest turnbuckle and pick herself up – and not a second too soon, either, as Bianca was clearly preparing to try and sneak in a foot choke! As it is, Angel is still powerless to avoid getting brought down into a hair pull backbreaker, which the ‘Queen’ feels pleased enough about to gloat to the audience, affecting a regal strut as she holds her arms out as if expecting praise; what she gets, naturally, is much the opposite.
“The ‘Queen’ is in full control here early on, and that kid has got to be wondering what she got herself into”, Deltzer observes, a statement neither of his colleagues can counter.
“Angel’s inexperience is really costing her here in the early goings”, Quinn puts in instead. “As I have it, she was never formally trained, and has been getting lessons from her partner, Saul Morgan, who is looking a little concerned right now…”
“As he should be”, ‘The Mark’ declares. “His girl’s getting the ‘Royal’ treatment out there right now!”
As Deltzer’s two companions groan at his pun, in the ring, things have begun to turn around, as – her gloating session complete – Bianca has gone to pull Angel up, only to find the youngster with a renewed head of steam, and fighting back as best she knows how – with a series of punches to the gut, then a big headbutt to the blonde’s perfectly nip-and-tucked face!
“Whooooaaaa…spoke too soon, there, Mark”, Allie quips, delighted.
Her goal of getting some offence in accomplished, Angel is quick to follow through with a big running knee, which sends Bianca off-balance but – her being close to the ropes – does not bring her down; instead, the ‘Queen’ leans on the cables, trying to catch her balance, thus becoming the perfect target for Angel’s big running clothesline, which sends her over the top and onto the floor!
“Atta girl, Angel”, Saul is heard shouting, even over the din of the crowd. “Stay on her!”
And that is exactly what Angel does, sliding out of the ring to bring the ‘Queen’ – whose expression is of sheer disbelief as she touches her lip to make sure she is not bleeding – to her feet, all while quipping: “How you like me now, ‘p–a’?” She then lands another headbutt to Bianca, setting her up for a big kick to the midsection, which doubles the blonde over and allows Angel to push her face-first onto the floor, delivering a receipt of sorts for the facebuster from earlier.
“Angel’s finally found her wings, but she needs to be careful”, Quinn observes. “She needs to get back in the ring before she gets too carried away and gets counted out…”
That same information is also being conveyed by Saul – and, albeit reluctantly, being taken in by Angel, who nods towards her partner and begins to carry Bianca towards the apron. The ‘Queen’, however, is quick to seize upon this distraction, and smashes Angel’s head into the turnbuckle twice, before rolling her into the ring and regally stepping through the ropes…
…only to get tripped up and thrown on her face by the ever-resourceful Alley Girl, to the delight of the crowd in attendance – and Allie at the commentary table!
“Yes, quick thinking by Angel, but she needs to capitalize”, Lucas points out. “And I wonder if she’s going to know how to…”
The answer to that is clearly negative, as the teenager looks towards her partner for guidance. Saul suggests some type of lock, to which Angel is seen replying “I ain’t know how to do THAT!” before turning back to her opponent…who has turned over onto her stomach and is waiting for her with two feet pointed at at her chest! The Latina therefore goes sprawling back, falling over by the ropes in a seated position, which makes her a prime target for Bianca’s low seated dropkick! The youth tumbles over the ropes to the outside, and the ‘Queen’ seizes her opportunity to once again gloat, much to the displeasure of the crowd – but the satisfaction of Deltzer.
“Bianca is feeling herself, and who can blame her?”
As the blonde once again takes a victory lap, Angel painstakingly pulls herself up onto the apron, then back into the ring. She pulls herself up to one knee, then to her feet, sizing the ‘Queen’ up as if preparing for a surprise attack…only to feel her back leg getting pulled, as a male voice calls out ‘my Queen!’ This causes Bianca to turn around, and – seeing the teenager now once again sprawled on the floor – give one last beauty pageant wave before dropping an elbow on “The Kid!”
“Something happened there”, Quinn says. “Did anybody see what it was?”
“She tripped”, Deltzer states. “It happens…”
Whatever the case, the upper hand is now firmly Bianca’s again – and she wastes no time capitalizing, scrambling to position herself behind Angel and locking in the single-leg crab known as the Queen’s Grace!
“Uh-oh! Angel’s in trouble now”, Quinn observes.
“That’s gotta be game over for the kid”, Deltzer confidently states.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Mark”, Allie counters. “Never count out street spirit…”
And indeed, despite her predicament – clearly reflected in her pained expression – Angel is quite visibly fighting against her opponent’s hold on her, as shown by the way she reaches out for the ropes, attempting to grab them in an effort to force Bianca to break the hold.
“Well…it seems the girl is not TOTALLY clueless about how wrestling works”, says Quinn, sounding somewhat impressed. “And being roughly the same size as Bianca, this could well work out for her. All she needs is to find the strength to cover those final few inches, and that’s often the hardest part…”
Hard though it may be – and it certainly appears to be – Angel is not giving up on her objective any time soon; in fact, her determination appears to be paying off, as she is now somewhat closer to the ropes than she started out – so close that a little extra effort may well see her be able to make contact with them!
“Come on, Angel”, Allie mumbles, her neutrality all but forgotten. “You can do it, girl!”
At ringside, Saul appears to be of the same opinion, coming around to Angel’s side of the squared circle to look her in the eye and try to give her that final bit of encouragement; and it appears to work, as, after nodding in acknowledgment, the teenager doubles her efforts, actively pushing forward and grabbing the ropes, to a massive ovation from the crowd – and at least two-thirds of the announce table.
“She’s done it!”
As she does, however, a blur of motion from behind knocks Saul down, then – just as quickly – sprays a mist of some sort into Angel’s eyes, causing the teenager to scream in pain and surprise…and release the ropes to rub at her eyes, allowing Bianca to pull her away from them and back towards the center of the ring – which referee Gabrielle Harris, who seems to be looking directly at the incident, surprisingly allows!
“What just happened?” Lucas Quinn echoes the surprise the rest of the crowd must also be feeling.
“I think…I think that simp that came in with Bianca just squirted something into Angel’s eyes”, Allie tentatively offers. “I know he did SOMETHING…And Gabby was right there! How did she miss that?”
Quinn sticks up for the inexperienced official: “I honestly believe she was out of position, Allie. There’s a lot going on in that ring.”
“That sounded all kinds of wrong, Al”, Deltzer quips. “Not to mention, slanderous! What proof have you got that the kid didn’t just mess that up on her own?”
“I saw something getting sq—getting SPRAYED near Angel” Allie quickly redacts herself, to prevent falling into the same trap a second time.
“You THINK you did”, Deltzer counters, “but did you REALLY? Or did you just WANT to see it? I mean, the REF didn’t see it…just saying…”
“Kids”, Lucas puts in, “cut it out. It’s pointless. She’s tapped. This one is over.”
And indeed, faced with the prospect of starting her trek all over again – with stinging, smarting eyes this time around – Angel sees herself forced to concede to Bianca Davis, giving her opponent a win, albeit a controversial one, on her debut.
“Ladies and gentlemen”, ‘Downtown’ Jason Brown intones. ‘The winner of this match, via submission…QUEEEEEENNNNN BIANCAAAAA DAAAAAAY-VISSSSSSS!”
“Our Queen can be proud of that performance”, Deltzer states. “Even if it WAS sort of like completing the tutorial level…”
“It appears she is not done yet, though”, Lucas cuts in. And indeed, in the ring, Bianca is now attempting to make her opponent take the knee and pay her respects, Angel, whose eyes are still bloodshot but who otherwise appears recovered, promptly obliges – by taking a knee to Bianca’s gut! The crowd erupts as the ‘Queen’ doubles over, and Angel quickly connects with a double-knee facebreaker!
“Well”, Lucas exclaims, once again sounding impressed. “It seems she DOES know some wrestling after all!”
“This is an OUTRAGE”, Deltzer splutters, “how DARE she?!”
“She got screwed, Marcus”, Allie points out. “She’s just getting a little revenge, that’s all…”
This, in turn, starts up another discussion about whether or not Angel got screwed out of that win, even as the woman herself slides out of the ring, collects her partner and begins to make her way up the ramp, yelling various pieces of her mind at the prone Bianca, who Simple Simon is seen checking on and tending to as the camera pans elsewhere…
CAN'T KEEP AN OLD DOG DOWN
December 25th– Time: 2:45pm
Valorie sighs quietly as the elevator hums all around her, a large bouquet of daylilies, and roses, all in different shades of reds, pinks, and whites in her arms as well as a small envelope. Her eyes glance upwards once the elevator makes a quiet ding, the floor number 5 on the tiny screen illuminated above her before the doors open and she makes her way out. As soon as she steps out, she can hear the quiet bustle of feet moving around as well as the very faint sound of heart monitors beeping all around as she starts walking down the hallway to a receptionist’s desk. The two briefly chat before the receptionist points further down the hallway with a smile, Valorie thanking her and continuing her walk. A brief moment lingers as she makes her way to a closed door with the number “513” beside it and the name “Johnson” underneath.
‘Just do it Val. It’ll be fine.’ she thought to herself before knocking three times on the wooden door before her.
There is a small pause before a male voice calls out, “Come in!”
At that very second, Valorie gulps and gently pushes down on the door handle, entering the room and smiling very warmly as she sees Jed Johnson sitting upright in the hospital bed, looking to be fully healed and recovering well after the events of the previous show. While Valorie has a sweet smile on her face, Jed simply takes one look at her and then scoffs as he looks away, rolling his eyes.
“Oh it’s you, the acrobatic embarrassment.” he hisses, not bothering to hide his malice.
“And hello to you too, Jed…” Valorie retorts before walking closer to his bedside and holding out the envelope.
Jed takes a look at it and snatches it from her grasp, opening it up and reading the small get well note that was written on a card. Once done, he simply looks at her again and gives a condescending grin.
“Do you really think you proved your point when you won your match against me Valorie? Or rather… ‘WON’.” he growls, using one hand to make air quotes to emphasize his point.
“I mean… Isn’t that what happened? There was the three count, and I won via pinfall.” Valorie retorts, only to see Jed shake his head furiously.
“No no no! THAT was not a win, Valorie. THAT was just further rubbing the face of wrestling into the dirt. Getting a REAL win is pinning the opponent until submission. Like wrestling SHOULD be. But no… Rookies like you are ruining the wrestling industry by resorting to these ridiculous methods instead of the tried and true method. You were in the military weren’t you? You should KNOW about honor. Or do you not care about it anymore?” He shouts at her with pure anger.
Valorie grips the stems of the bouquet tightly, fighting back the venomous words that are on the brink of purging themselves. However, Valorie swallows the anger and takes a deep breath, setting the bouquet on the small table beside his bed and turning to leave. As she places her hand against the door handle, she turns to look back at him and smirks a bit.
“Glad to see you’re back to your normal self. Hopefully you’ll be well enough for your next match. Take care and I hope to see you in the ring again so I can kick some more common sense into that thick head of yours.” she says as she gives a very quick two-finger salute before pushing on the door handle and leaving.
LET'S BE REAL
In a small apartment somewhere in America, a conversation has already escalated to a full-blown argument, and is about to get heated – at least from the one side.
“The fuck you mean, Ross? Y’know I ain’t do big words. Lay it out for me real simple-like.”
“Exclusive binding contract basically means I can’t play any type of sports for money for anyone else, other than BCNA.. GLOBAL didn’t sign us long term, but this? This will make sure I get paid even when I’m not working. This will make sure I can afford for Lil’ Man to play sports in high school.”
Ross Hanson, the speaker of these last few words, is indeed wearing a royal purple Cincinnati Monarchs T-shirt.
“So you doin’ it for the MONEY?” His counterpart, tag team partner and girlfriend Hayley Robinson, openly scoffs in derision. “Fuck outta here with that shit, you goddamn sellout! You a fuckin’ rassler! Yo’ daddy a wrestler. Yo’ mama sure as FUCK a rassler. An’ YOU a rassler too – like it or not. Y’sure ain’t some goddamn goof dressed like an insurance salesman from the 1930s!”
“Hey now…those socks are dope. Don’t even try to lie.”
Hanson’s attempt to lighten the mood having failed, the Son of a Madman opts to change tack, and go with earnestness instead.
“Listen…I’m a shitty wrestler. Let’s be real. I couldn’t get the job done against the Masters. I couldn’t get the job done against Clauson in UPRISING back in August…I lost an MMA fight to someone literally half my size! I couldn’t get the job done against goddamn ANYBODY this year! I’m the worst wrestler there is, Hayley. You deserve a better tag team partner, and my kid deserves a better life.”
“What?! How you gon’ sit there an’ tell ME ‘bout losses?” Once again, Hayley’s tone conveys complete and utter disbelief. “You done seen my rookie year? You ever done got ran outta THE ENTIRE GODDAMN SPORT, an’ had to go work for tips ‘cause ain’t nobody wanna hire you ‘cause of who done got beef with you? ‘Sides, this shit’s DIFFERENT. Don’t gimme no bullshit ‘bout you ain’t know it.”
To his credit, the Madson does not try to do any such thing, instead simply nodding.
“You’re right. This is different. It ain’t about people having a grudge against me, Mom, Dad, my Auntie, or anyone else. It’s just that everything I have tried to do for the past four years as a professional wrestler has failed. Nothing’s worked. I’m not my dad. I’ll never be my dad. And my dad hasn’t been training me constantly for years like Jacqui has you. He’s actually worked against me more than once. My own dad doesn’t even want me to be a wrestler. It’s been clear to me for a while now that if I stick around in this business, I’ll just be constantly losing and I’ll have nobody to blame but myself. Meanwhile, I have a five year old son about to turn six and I need to be able to pay for his school lunches. I can’t do that if I’m this bad at my job. I have to be a responsible adult for my son’s sake.”
Robinson opens her mouth to speak, but her interloper cuts her off before she can so much as utter a single objection.
“So yeah. That’s why I did the Splat movie. That’s why I signed the BCNA deal. That’s why I told GLOBAL even before the first Domination that I had nothing left in the tank, that I was burnt out, that I was nothing but goddamn glorified cannon fodder, and that if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have even replied to their fucking DM! The only thing keeping me in GLOBAL until then, is you! I want to make sure that before I leave, we are going to let the world know that even though I’m a shitty wrestler, you’re gonna be one of the best. Sound good?”
A moment’s silence elapses, after which Hayley snorts.
“I ain’t gon’ be one of the best. I prolly ain’t never even gon’ be Top 500. But I hear ya. I ain’t FEEL ya, but I hear ya. An’…thanks, I guess.”
“The Raven” shrugs, clearly demoralized by her partner’s words. Ross stops for a moment to sit down beside her.
“Trust me, this is the best decision for all of us. We will all have steady money coming in now. And we won’t have to worry about anyone trying to break us up just to get an advantage going into a match, or someone targeting one of us just to get to the other. I know this is what you want to do. I used to think it was what I wanted to do too. I’m being mature and admitting, I don’t have what it takes to make it in this business. But I know you do, because you’ve proven it before. You’ll do it again. I promise you.”
“Whatever, fam.” The girl shrugs again as she turns her attention to her phone, clearly no longer invested in the conversation; in fact, her next display of true emotion comes only when she comes across a seemingly exciting piece of information in the course of her scrolling, which leads her to cry out:
“Yo! The new Dose of Truth done dropped just now! I gots to listen to this! JJ really knows his s–t!”
With that, the earphones go on, and the boyfriend is shut out, leaving him to stare at his other half somewhat resentfully before turning away and leaving her to her podcast.
Backstage, but away from the cameras, a harried-looking young woman roams the halls of the GLOBAL Arena, a mobile phone stuck to her ear, into which she is first seen rapidly gabbing:
“Look, Hayley…listen…I’m not trying to stop you from being yourself or whatever…but you’ve GOT to stop swearing every two seconds, girlfriend! It’s making investors uncomfortable – not to mention some of the talent…”
The vocal explosion this is met with is so loud, the woman is momentarily forced to hold her phone away from her ear, wincing. As she waits for the storm of profanity to tide over, the expression on her face changes from one of discomfort to one of gratitude, as she appears to spot a way out of her current predicament.
“YeahlookIgottago’, she shoots into the phone. ‘JustthinkaboutwhatIsaidOK? OKbye!”
The woman heaves a sigh of relief as she ends the call, taking a moment to draw in a deep breath and enjoy the relative silence before she approaches the odd-couple duo of a clean-shaven but somewhat shabby-looking thirtysomething man and an equally scruffy, frizzy-haired teenage girl, currently standing nearby.
“Heeeeey, guys”, she chirps, her smile a little too wide and her tone just a touch too enthusiastic, “Alicia Fawkes…with the GLOBAL PR team? Hi! Nice to meet ya!”
The male half of the duo happily and politely takes the proferred hand, introducing himself in kind, but his female companion seems somewhat more distrustful.
“Angel”, the man snaps. “That’s no way to talk to people!”
“It is when they ’bout to tell you some bullshit”, Angel spits back. “An’ she ’bout to tell us some bullshit. I can tell.”
“Are you?” The man raises a quizzical, somewhat apologetic eyebrow at Fawkes, whose grin is similarly apologetic.
“No, no, not at all, guys! I just wanted to share some of the feedback we got about you, from social media. I’ve been doing it with everybody else, too.”
“Go on,” the man nods, though Angel still looks less than impressed.
“Well…first of all…well done, you two! AMAZING engagement in the Latinx and military demographics. These people LOVE you guys!”
“Well, yeah,” the man says. “They’re our people. Makes sense.”
“E-XAC-tly!” Alicia beams. “And that catchphrase? ‘You gotta SHOW up to GO up?'” Alicia does a chef’s kiss. “That’s a hashtag now, you guys. A HASHTAG!”
GLOBAL’s PR officer needs a moment to collect herself before continuing:
“Soooooo.. .I want you to keep on doing E-XAC-tly what you did two weeks ago! Well…” Here, the PR agent pauses, causing Angel’s brow to furrow even further. “Wellllll….except for one, TEENY, TINY thing…”
“Called it”, the female half of the duo instantly puts in. “I tole ya, Papi! She tryn’a mess with our thing!”
“See, that’s just it”, Fawkes cuts in, seizing her chance, and talking directly to Angel. “Male caucasian viewers thirty-five to forty-four and older were highly critical of your use of the word ‘papi’. They considered it over-used, and it was considered ‘grating’.”
“WHAT?!” The youth instantly explodes in the PR officer’s face, not unlike her telephone interloper from a few moments ago. “Why you tryn’a change how I talk, girlfriend?! You think I give a shit ’bout some old white dudes on Twitter? ‘Cause I don’t, y’feel me?” Then, turning to her partner: “tole you, Papi! Tole you this was gonna be some bullshit!”
“If that’s ALL they have an issue with, though, Ange”, her counterpart puts in, causing her expression to darken even further, “can’t you at least TRY?”
“Why I gotta?” Angel is still livid, and not afraid to show it. “Ain’t nobody askin’ YOU to stop bein’ a soldier! Why I gotta stop bein’ Latina?”
“It’s not about stopping”, Alicia puts in, attempting to defuse the situation. “Just try to…”
“‘Callate, pendeja'”, Angel snaps, “Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you!”
“ANGEL!” The man’s calm demeanour suddenly turns into one of irritation. “Apologise!”
“Why?” The youth glowers first at her partner, and then the GLOBAL PR officer. “I ain’t see nobody apologisin’ to ME…”
“Regardless”, her companion snaps. “That ain’t no way to talk to anybody. If this was the Army, and I was your CO, you’d be on the floor and doing push-ups right now!”
“Whatever”, the youth bristles, begrudgingly turning to the PR officer. “Sorry. I’mma try an’ be less Latina, or whatever…”
Alicia nods magnanimously. “Thanks, ‘chica’. I’m sorry too. I’m not trying to be a B-word or anything…just sharing some insights. Just remember… I didn’t ask for this. The GLOBAL Nation did. You want people to like you, right?”
Even Angel can’t refute this, simply shrugging in one last show of petulance. “Whatever. A-ny-way…We gotta go, or we gonna be late.” Here, the youth turns to her partner, glowering defiantly at Fawkes as she states: “C’mon, PAPI.”
With that, and an apologetic shrug-and-grin from Angel’s partner towards the unfortunate PR officer, the duo exit stage right, headed for Angel’s big debut as a professional wrestler.
"BIG AUG" AUGUST LAZAR Vs GEMINI
“We have another big match coming your way,” Lucas Quinn tells the audience. “We have “Big Aug” August Lazar in competition coming up next against the masked Gemini. We’ve seen Big Aug victorious twice in competition on the last two shows while so far, Gemini is 0-1 in competition against Son of Malta. But with that said, Gemini wanted a chance to turn his luck around and he’ll get it.”
“Big Aug is a BEAST!” Mark Deltzer exclaims. “And he might be hungry for all the food in the world, but Gemini is hungry for opportunity. He’s gotta chop this big kid down and make a name for himself tonight if he wants to be in title contention down the road!”
“All good points,” Allie Reece says, “every win is important. Gemini might have an uphill battle ahead of him, but if he can knock off the thus far undefeated August Lazar, that’s a great start. Meanwhile, with respect to his previous competition, this could be the first chance we see August Lazar tested. We’ll see what he can do tonight!”
After the story beats for the next match get laid out for viewers, “Downtown” Jason Brown is ready to make his introductions.
“The following singles contest is set for one fall!” “Downtown” Jason Brown announces. “Introducing first… from Parts Unknown, weighing in at 244 pounds… he… is… GEMINI!”
No music for the masked man as he walks out to a mixed response from the crowd, but with a microphone in hand. He walks down the red carpet and ignores the crowd reaction as he rolls under the bottom rope, then pulls himself up.
“All right, all right…” he starts. “They didn’t want me to have this thing, but I got it now and I got some things to say about August Lazar.”
There’s a slight buzz as the masked Gemini gets ready to sound off on whatever is bothering him.
“Some NBA never-was with some YouTube show that nobody watches thinks that he’s going to come into MY sport and lumber around this ring at MY expense? Nah. Not tonight!”
He points to the end of the red carpet and back to the entrance.
“This company rolls out the red carpet for you just because you’re some big, friendly dumbass with a sweet tooth, but you and your two moves aren’t going to show me up! I’ve worked too damn long and toiled too damn much to let this opportunity pass me by. Nobody’s gonna talk about you after tonight, Lazar… NOBODY.”
Gemini drops the microphone and after he has said his peace, he gets ready for the arrival of his opponent…
I go by the name of Dame Jones
I’m with my crew
And we gon’ show y’all what we be snacking on
“Hot Cheetos and Takis” by Da Rich Kidzz.
TOWERING through the entrance, the dirty-blonde monster with hair tied back in a bun, wearing a red and black sleeveless bodysuit walks out and raises a finger in the air! He looks out to the cheering crowd with a box in hand. Just like his two prior appearances, August Lazar’s best friend and manager, Del Waterstone, records the entrance on his phone while wearing the first bit of August’s GLOBAL merchandise, a red “Chow Time” apron with a pair of cartoon teeth around the logo.
“GLOBAL Wrestlings! IT’S CHOW TIME!” yells Big Aug to the hard camera in front of him.
On his way down the red carpet, he opens the box and starts throwing out various packs of candy, peanuts, jerky and other snacks to the GLOBAL fans.
“Let ‘em know, Augie, let ‘em know!” Del shouts. “Gemini gonna get this work!”
Big Aug hands Big Aug’s Big Snack Box to Del and then pulls himself up to the ring apron.
“And his opponent…” “Downtown” Jason Brown makes the announcement. “from Clearwater, Florida, by way of Romania… accompanied by manager, Del Waterstone… he stands SEVEN-FOOT FOUR and weighs in at THREE-HUNDRED NINETY-NINE pounds…
Big Aug holds a finger for every nickname he’s been given…
“He is Everyone’s Zest Friend… Boss of the Sauce… Mr. Spice Guy… One Giant Tasty Snack… The Man with an Appetite For Life… The Man With The Iron Stomach… and The Largest Athlete in The GLOBE…”
Brown takes an exaggerated breath as Big Aug poses in the ring.
“BIG AUG” AUGUST LAZAR!”
Wrestling’s Largest Foodie raises his hands in the air to cheers from the crowd! Del takes off the “Chow Time” apron and then gives it over to a young kid in attendance to take home! Del resumes filming… just in time for a fired-up Gemini to go on the attack with a running knee to Big Aug’s back!
The shot from the 244-pound Gemini is enough to knock an unsuspecting Big Aug from behind with the knee into a corner. Big Aug gets turned around as Gemini goes wild with a flurry of elbow smashes in the corner looking to make a real name for himself tonight. He continues to swing away until The Boss of the Sauce shoves him away…
Gemini scrambles back a little bit, but charges right back at Lazar! He strikes away at the big former NBA player with a number of strikes to try and wear him down. He continues to hit away until Big Aug is left slightly disoriented! He tries to pull Big Aug out of the corner, but The Largest Athlete in The GLOBE fights back with a knee to the chest! He palms the back of Gemini’s masked head…
“Eat this buckle!” Big Aug shouts.
Then slams him right into the corner!
The GLOBAL Nation cheers on the big man as he poses out of the corner and gets them all fired up. Del Waterstone continues filming at ringside from his phone as Big Aug then turns to charge at Gemini…
The masked man resumes his previous strategy and goes with the direct approach of attacking August with a number of forearm strikes all along the head. Gemini is out to prove a point tonight, but Mr. Spice Guy grabs Gemini and then pitches him backwards to the corner. He points at the corner and charges, but the veteran wrestler gets both feet up to stop Big Aug in his tracks. He then climbs out to the ring apron and then heads to the top rope. He measures himself…
Off the top with a double axe handle!
He nails The Man with the Iron Stomach square on the top of the head and has him spaghetti-legged! This has been the most sustained offense that anyone has had yet on The Largest Athlete in The GLOBE and Gemini has every intent of making the most of it. He runs off the ropes and then smacks Big Aug with a big clothesline, but the blow only staggers the big man. Del looks worried on the outside as Gemini hits the ropes a second time and then hits a running elbow smash this time…
The running knee connects!
Big Aug is on the ropes now and the crowd is buzzing as the big man hasn’t been tested quite like he has thus far. Gemini continues to chip away at the big man. He runs at a corner to get himself some distance for his next attack…
But Big Aug is already behind him with a running back elbow that crushes him in the corner!
The Romanian-American takes a second to shake the cobwebs out after the earlier assaults from Gemini before he grabs him by the arm and THROWS him out of the corner with a massive biel across the ring! When Gemini stumbles out of the corner, he tries to get up on the other side using the corner to pick himself up.
That turns out to be a big mistake.
Big Aug CRUSHES him with a big corner splash from the opposite end! Before Gemini even has the time to fall over, Big Aug grabs him by the body and then holds him up…
He poses in the middle of the ring and Gemini tries to break free, but he has him over the shoulder and makes it look easy with one arm! He holds him out and waves his free hand to encouraged the crowd for more cheers…
Then DROPS Gemini down with a big delayed one-armed body slam!
Big Aug grabs him by the neck while he’s on the ground and the official starts to count a fall, but Augie holds him off the mat slightly…. Then drops him! Again! And again!
THE COOKIE DUNK!
Gemini is getting rattled around after he lets go of the Cookie Dunk! Big Aug looks like he’s about to go for a leg drop as he leaps off the ropes, but before he can, Gemini does the smart thing and rolls to the floor. The crowd is jeering the masked man for leaving the ring as he stumbles around ringside trying to catch his breath. Del Waterstone is filming the proceedings on his phone and when Gemini takes notice.
“Get that out of my face!” Gemini shouts.
Del doesn’t want any part of the action and backs off as Gemini tries to catch his breath…
But gets grabbed by both hands, courtesy of Big Aug!
The former NBA player has him by both hands and snatches him up, pulling him up by both hands trying to get him back into the ring, but Gemini grabs him by either side of the neck and then drops Big Aug neck first across the top rope!
Now that he finally has the opening he needs, Gemini shakes the dust off and gets back into the ring, before he rushes right back to attack The Boss of the Sauce attacks him with another jumping knee strike and then more forearms in the corner before he goes low. Big Aug tries to push him away for the second time. Big Aug tries a big boot, but Gemini ducks underneath the shot and then comes back with a chop block to the other leg!
The crowd is stunned with Big Aug on a knee! Gemini smiles…
RUNNING YAKUZA KICK!
Big Aug has been brought down to his knees!
After successfully chopping down the mighty redwood that is Big Aug, Gemini goes for the neck and then applies a quick kata hajime choke while Big Aug has been quasi-grounded! The big man flails his arms around as Gemini is hungry for this opportunity and has clearly come into this match with something big to prove to both himself and the GLOBAL Nation!
“BIG AUG! BIG AUG! BIG AUG! BIG AUG!”
Del waves a hand to the fans filling The GLOBE @ Stage 49 as they continue showing support to The World’s Largest Foodie. The GLOBAL Nation continue lending support to the big man as he tries to stand. Gemini continues to apply the choke and then gets him back to his feet, but Big Aug starts to stand… and has Gemini on his back! He still doesn’t let go easily, so Big Aug backs up and then SMASHES the masked man into the corner to finally free himself!
It takes August Lazar a few moments to catch his breath while Gemini is stuck in the corner trying to get his breath back after being pressed between the biggest man in GLOBAL and the ring corner. Both men are trying to be the first to mount an attack and it looks like Gemini might be the first to do it. He goes back towards Big Aug…
…but The Boss of the Sauce CRACKS him with a chop to the chest! Gemini falls to his knees and he’s in pain after that nasty chop while Lazar gives himself a few more seconds to get his breath back. When Big Aug finally is able to do so, Everyone’s Zest Friend gets himself fired up!
Big clothesline to Gemini!
He knocks the masked man down once and when he gets back up a second time, he clocks him with a second clothesline out of the corner. Gemini is left seeing stars now as Big Aug raises his hand and then starts to get The GLOBAL Nation roaring loud and proud.
He has Gemini by the throat and tries to go for a chokeslam, but Gemini kicks him in the leg! Again! And again! And again! He jumps up and then hits a jawbreaker under the chin of Big Aug to fully break his grip. Lazar is left stumbling upwards on his feet as Gemini balls his hands up, ready to bring the thunder… Gemini’s Thunder, that is…
BUT BIG AUG CATCHES HIM!
He throws Gemini into the ropes with a snake eyes and then the big man charges across the ring to come back and kick him down with the big boot!
THE FOOD CHAIN!
The GLOBAL Nation starts really making some noise now as Big Aug gives a double thumbs up to them. Gemini tries to get up, but finds himself palmed by the back of the head! Big Aug delivers a HARD forearm sledge to the chest!
Gemini has the wind knocked out of him as Big Aug yells out to the crowd and then gets ready to end things! Gemini is picked up in a back suplex and hoisted high up…
The back suplex shifted into the chokeslam drops him and Big Aug hooks a leg!
DING DING DING!
By far, his most tested match to the date, but victorious tonight! Big Aug raises his hands to the sky and stands up, shaking his leg to make sure it’s still good and usable. The referee raises his hand.
“Here is your winner of the match…”
But before Jason Brown can read the name…
HALL OF FAME STRENGTH
“BIG AUG” AUGUST LAZAR!”
But the voice is not that of “Downtown” Jason Brown… but rather, the faded British accent belonging to none other than self-professed “GLOBAL Hall of Famer” Aleczander The Great!
Wearing a golden-hued business suit and tie (once again with the sleeves cut off like his initial DOMINATION 1 appearance), Aleczander has had time to shower after his match earlier in the night and look presentable. Del Waterstone and Big Aug are in the ring when Aleczander approaches.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lucas Quinn says.
“I don’t know,” Allie Reece replies, “but whatever Aleczander The Great is trying to do, it’s no doubt he’s out here for something involving Aleczander The Great.”
“Hey, who are you to doubt the first-ever GLOBAL Hall of Famer?” Deltzer tells his broadcast colleagues. “He complimented Big Aug a few weeks ago when they met during his interview with Steve Blaine. Maybe he’s just out here to offer him some more?”
The crowd is booing Aleczander The Great. He’s a big man himself, but looks small in the face of August Lazar. The former NBA player looks at Aleczander as he approaches him and his best friend/manager.
“Mate, mate, mate…” Aleczander begins. “Mate… from GLOBAL Hall of Famer to The Largest Athlete in The GLOBE, I want to say congratulations! That was a hard-fought victory over Gemini! Good job! GLOBAL Nation, give Big Auggie a round of applause, yeah?”
The GLOBAL Nation does just that. Del Waterstone motions for a pair of microphones for he and Big Aug as well when a stagehand offers them up from ringside. He hands one to Big Aug and keeps one for himself.
“Aleczander,” Del says, “Thanks… but I think I speak for everybody here when I say… what do you want?”
The Gilded Great puts his hands up defensively.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Dex,” Aleczander says.
“I don’t even like computers, mate. That bollocks is for nerds, yeah?”
The joke amuses no one but Aleczander The Great himself before he turns up to face Big Aug.
“Mate… I’m here to talk to you. I got to thinking. You and me? We’re two of the BIGGEST stars here in GLOBAL Wrestling today in terms of either star power in my case, or size in yours, yeah?”
Big Aug looks around.
“My friend… Del is right. Get to point today!” Big Aug booms.
Aleczander The Great smiles.
“Okay, okay, okay, I got ya! Lots to do, lots to eat, big man. Look… I wanted you to be the first one to hear the challenge that I am issuing to not just you… but to the ENTIRE GLOBAL Wrestling roster…”
He has the attention of The GLOBAL Nation when he addresses them.
“Earlier tonight… you saw me use me Hall of Fame strength to pick up a three-hundred seventy-pound monster and DROP him right here in this mat like it was nothing! And I’m here because I want to test me strength against ANYONE that wants a piece of me…”
He turns to Big Aug.
“And that includes YOU, Mr. Largest Athlete in the GLOBE!”
THAT gets the attention of Big Aug and Del Waterstone.
“On DOMINATION 4… I am challenging you to a best of three STRENGTH competition!”
Big Aug has his eyebrow raised as the crowd murmurs amongst themselves!
“The first challenge will be an arm wrestling contest! The second will be a Tug of War competition! And the third one, if it goes to a third… will be a BODY SLAM CHALLENGE! This roster needs to see how powerful I am and if I can do that to the largest man in this promotion, there will be no doubt whatsoever as to my GLOBAL Hall of Fame credentials! What do you say, mate?”
He offers up a hand.
The GLOBAL Nation wants to hear the answer from Big Aug. He and Del talk to one another off-mic for a moment as Aleczander awaits an answer. Thankfully, he and the audience do not have to wait long.
“Aleczander The Great…” Big Aug says. “My friend… we ACCEPT! IT’S CHOW TIME, GLOBAL!”
Big Aug reaches out and shakes the hand of Aleczander so fervently, Alecz has to pull away! He’s clearly in pain when he pulls back, but tries to play it off.
“Mate… I’ll see you on DOMINATION 4.”
Aleczander The Great drops the microphone and leaves the ring to head to the back while Del looks up at Big Aug, unsure of what they might be getting into. Big Aug, for his part, looks ready to meet the challenge of the self-proclaimed GLOBAL Hall of Famer head on!
Slip, slop, slip, slop.
Do you cover tens of thousands of steps a day?
Slip, slop, slip, slop.
Is your WIFE constantly shouting at you for leaving DIRTY FOOTPRINTS all over your apartments laminate floor?
Then you need some FILTHY Yorkshire-Pudding looking slippers.
Beige on the outside.
Sweaty on the inside.
Slip, slop, slip, slop.
Pace your apartment in comfort, and keep your WIFE as God intended.
PUBLIC HUMILIATION IS NIGH
Joe Public, fresh off a defeat to Christian Pierson, is already in the ring when the Chinese national anthem blares out, prompting some boos automatically, and even more when some recognize the reason why.
Two men of Asian descent emerge, hardly a shock, especially when one with an average build appears first. He has close-cropped black hair, a five o’clock shadow and fair skin. His ring attire isn’t much to write about either, although it is very pro-China, wearing red underwear-style trunks with the stars of his country on both the front and back. Red tape and black boots round out the attire. Perhaps the standout feature is his zip-up track jacket in the style of the flag.
Until he points back to the entrance. The Mark gulps at the sight: “I was hoping he had come alone! Oh no,” he laments seeing the seven-two four-hundred pound plus giant with full-length red tights to cover, but not conceal, his tree trunk legs. The mammoth strolls much more slowly, his cropped hair on a far larger head than Xiang’s.
Our cameras pick up The Mark with his head in his hand as Allie asks: “What are you not telling us?”
With a microphone in hand, walking and talking are two things this particular individual can do at the same time: “Ladies and gentlemen, and I say that lightly, we are The Xiang Dynasty. I am Xiang, and this monster of a man is The Great Wall. Joe Public – this pathetic excuse of a man, let alone a professional wrestler, represents every single one of you. American exceptionalism? In the next decade, you’ll be a distant second behind The People’s Republic of China.”
Boos ring out at Xiang’s damning assessment of this country’s future: “For now, however, we’ll settle for making an example of each one of you. Joe Public, your opponent is…The Great Wall. Good luck,” he hisses, as the bell sounds and Xiang steps between the ropes to stand diagonally opposite Plain Jane. We’ve got ourselves an impromptu singles match and a debut for the 7’2 skyscraper against the 5’9 ½ Joe Public.
JOE PUBLIC V THE GREAT WALL
“It’s clear that Joe Public is in over his head here,” Lucas Quinn states, mocked by The Mark for ‘stating the bleeding obvious.’
“In more ways than one,” Allie adds.
“Wait,” The Mark exclaims, shocked that Joe Public goes straight for a body slam attempt on The Great Wall, inspired by Plain Jane’s encouragement and Xiang’s goading, it would seem.
The Great Wall stares into space, waiting to see if Dr. Joe Public finds anything wrong. There sure is: The least talented performer in GLOBAL, or close to it at least, is trying to pick up one of the largest individuals in the industry. After seconds of waiting, The Great Wall simply falls forward onto an overmatched Joe Public, a la Andre at Wrestlemania 3, here on Domination 3…
It looks like he goes one better than Andre did in Detroit.
Lucas Quinn wonders: “Do we have a new record?”
Reece replies: “I think we might! We’ll need confirmation, but that could be the quickest win in GLOBAL to date. Is it any surprise? Joe Public couldn’t find the Great Wall of China with a map, and yet, he expected to slam The Great Wall here? What a moron.”
AT THE DOOM'S GATE
The duo of Nigel and Rupert, both great names, more well known as “The Best of British” stand in front of a relatively big door, at the end of a bigger alleyway. The door doesn’t have a proper name tag, but it has a logo on it, of a blue, futuristic looking A. However, neither man’s attention is on the door just yet, but rather on the phone call Rupert is currently a part of.
“Yes, I agree…it IS a real shame about David…yes, there IS very little we can do in this sort of situation, isn’t there? An unexpected setback, really…one must try to move on from it…”
It would be easy for any of the two men to just reach for the door and open it at this point – after all, it isn’t locked, and the goal of their visit to this company building lies behind it: the COO of Aurora Corp, and more importantly to them, the older sister and the leader of the Masters, Aurora Master.
However, between them and the door is one final obstacle, the first obstacle, if we’re being honest. A desk with a very distracted secretary sitting behind it. She’s wearing headphones with quite the loud music coming from them. It is hard to understand exactly what song or band, but it sounds like some harsh metal or punk, she is hitting the table with her fingers and has her eyes completely closed, while she hums the song to herself.
“You! Girl” Having disconnected from his call, Rupert Royston-Fellowes snaps his fingers to try to catch the receptionist’s attention, but she is clearly not hearing them at all. The duo looks at her, at each other, the door, and then back at each other.
“Well, open the ruddy door, mate, will you?” Kensington shouts to Fellowes, who hesitates, clearly in a sulky mood. As such, it falls to his tag team partner to step forward and grab the door handle, as he sighs:
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!”
“Ah-ah-aha!” Says a female voice coming from their side. They all freeze and look to their right, to the secretary, who has removed her headset and is piercing her eyes at them behind her long, dark, curly hair. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you have an appointment?” She asks, and after a short pause she adds with the soft smile of someone who is enjoying toying with them. “Don’t you even dare say yes.”
“Listen here, girl!” Rupert steps forward, clearly more in his element outside the door than he might have been inside it. “We do not NEED an appointment. Do you have any idea who we are?”
“Nope”, the secretary answers truthfully, shrugging. “Haven’t a clue.” Then, British politeness winning through, she automatically adds: “Sorry…”
“Well,” Rupert continues, his body language matching his intense tone, “all you truly need to know is, we make more money just from being here right now than you will the whole rest of the year. We are here for a VERY IMPORTANT BUSINESS MEETING. Which is why YOU need to let my associate here through THAT door, right. This. Instant.”
“…and you, as well, mate”, Nigel cuts in, drawing a glower and then a sigh from Rupert as he turns back to the Master Sisters’ secretary.
“Yes. My associate AND I need to go in that room, right now.”
“VERY IMPORTANT BUSINESS MEETING or not, I’ll be needing to confirm with the boss herself first.” She reaches for the phone and clicks a couple keys before stopping. “You know what? I think I lied, I think I know you. Well, not YOU plural… ” She locks eyes with Rupert. “You.”
She grabs some papers from behind the desk labeled ‘DO NOT LET IN’. “What was your name again?” she asks as she rapidly goes through the papers.
“Nigel Kensington III”, the blond responds, thinking quickly and drawing a shocked look and a gasp from the man whose name he just appropriated.
A look from Rupert cuts him off – one which the secretary, fortunately, does not catch. Then, in the same haughty tone, the blond once again addresses the woman:
“IV, actually. Nigel Kensington IV.” He points at his partner. “This is Nigel III.”
The secretary looks skeptically between the two. “So…he’s your father?”
“Brother”, Rupert replies, glibly. “Father simply named us both the same. For convenience. You know…when you want to summon one of your children, you do not have to bother thinking of their name…”
She eyes both of them with a raised eyebrow. “Your father did not love you very much.” She notes as she closes the files. “But, neither name is in here, so it should be fine.”
Rupert lets out a sigh of relief, that the secretary does not catch as she is busy calling the phone. After a couple seconds the familiar voice of the head of the Masters is heard.
“Kat, for the seventh time, I am NOT going to buy you another drum set, don’t I pay you enough to get it yourself.”
“It’s… it’s not that. Although, no you don’t pay me enough.” The secretary replies, rather embarrassed. “There’s two dudes here..the Nigel Brothers?”
“I have zero idea who The Nigel Brothers are.”
“And you think I do? It’s two wrestlers, I think, I don’t know, they’re muscly. Do I let them in or do I call the guards?”
The other side goes almost silent, with only some faint noises from what seems to be a television. The duo waits impatiently to figure out if they are able to do this the nice way or if they’re going to punch some guards along the way, but, after a long sigh, the other side finally replies positively. “Just let them in, I don’t care.”
“Alright, you heard her. Also…” She adds although clearly nobody asked or cared. “I just asked because it’s my birthday soon… whatever, just go inside.” She gestures to the door.
The duo opens the door, Rupert waving a white flag just in case. The other side is mostly filled by a desk and a big blue chair, which looks quite comfortable to sit on. And looking quite comfortable sat on it is none other than Aurora Master, although she is not facing the door, but rather the side, looking at a moderately sized television where she is playing a racing video game with another member of her team, the pink haired Dawn Master, who is sitting on the floor with her controller on hand.
“I won!” The younger sister exclaims upon the end of their game.
“You finished seventh…” Aurora adds with little to no emotion before turning to face the ‘brothers’ “Oh, you’re the Nigel Brothers.” She pauses looking at them before clicking on a phone on her desk. “Yo, Kat, actually don’t let them in.”
“They’re your problem now” the other side says before turning off.
“And then she wants another raise.” Aurora shakes her head before facing the Best of British. “And what is it that YOU need from me?”
Before either man can reply, however, Rupert finds himself on the receiving end of the human equivalent of an Alien facehug, as a pink creature wraps itself around his body, hitting him with blows as it repeatedly yells “OUT! OUTOUTOUTOUTOUT!”
“I would listen to Dawn, if I were you”, Aurora states.
“Yeah”, the small middle sister spits. “Don’t make me have to sic Moony on both your arses!”
“Are you ACTUALLY mentally ill?!” Rupert’s tone conveys, at once, anger and disbelief. “Did you not see the white flag?”
“Yeah”, Dawn admits. “I just didn’t care, because YOU don’t deserve a truce!”
“For Heaven’s sake”, Rupert growls, pushing the woman off of him at long last, and rubbing his injured nose irritably. “It has been SIX YEARS…do you women ever let ANYTHING go?”
“Nope.” Dawn Master’s smirk is only matched by her older sister’s.
“Evidently not”, the blond grumbles, before his partner senses it best to take over negotiations.
“Either way, this is a peace mission”, he states. “We have a business proposition for you. From…our CEO from six years ago.”
“You mean the…” Dawn gestures to indicate somebody affected, or as the British might put it, ‘posh’. “With the…?” More gesturing, to indicate long streaked hair.
“Yes”, Nigel says. “The very same.”
“What does SHE want?”
“Simply put”, Kensington says, “she wants you to come in with our joint venture”.
“No.” Once again, Aurora and Dawn speak in near perfect unison.
“I knew they would bloody say that…” Rupert grumbles, still rubbing at his nose.
“Unfortunately”, Nigel presses on. “We cannot really take ‘no’ for an answer. Though, might I ask WHY not? After all, you have nothing to lose…not to mention, being the Champions, you WOULD be at the front and centre of all our public appearances…AND…” Here, the youth grins roguishly. “…you would have one less set of competitors for your titles. Win-win-win.”
“Well, that is correct, we have nothing to lose.” Aurora raises one hand, before raising the other. “But! We also have nothing to win. Sure, we have one less pair of competitors, but as far as I remember, and you’re free to correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s a pair of competitors we’ve defeated before.”
“With chairs!” The little sister adds, currently jumping on the table
“With chairs.” Aurora points in agreement.
“In. A. FOUR-WAY”, Rupert points out.
“YOU keep quiet”, Aurora says, pointing at the blond half of the duo. Nigel, however, has more to say:
“Yes, with chairs. Which means, not legitimately, or indeed, legally…”
“Legality has rarely been either one of us’ problems, has it?” She smiles softly. “Either way, I don’t think there’s any offer you can give me that will justify working with… THAT.” She points at Rupert. “So unless part of the agreement is kicking his ball for 24 hours straight, I think both of you can leave.”
“I was not even the one to end it”, Rupert protests. “YOU were!”
Seeing another situation brewing, Nigel is quick to once again intervene, turning his phone towards Aurora and tapping a specific section of the screen. “Maybe if you see some concrete figures…six of them, to be exact…” He smiles at Aurora, never dropping eye contact. “They might even stretch to SEVEN, if that is what it takes…” His grin grows broader. “BASE pay, of course. There would evidently be benefits added on, as well…”
Aurora raises her hand for him to stop.
“You are aware, of course, that this massive building that you guys are in is entirely mine, of course? I’ll never pretend to be richer than Stella. I know I’m not, nor will I ever be, but that doesn’t invalidate one thing… I AM rich.” Aurora gets up and walks to the door, opening it. “I don’t need money, I have all I need to buy the things I need and then some. I don’t see anything useful you guys can bring us, no money, no titles, no new opportunities so… until you become useful, kindly piss off.”
“Useful…I see.” Nigel accepts defeat surprisingly graciously. “Very well. Until then.”
“Are we leaving?” Rupert sounds nothing short of eager.
“Yes, we are.”
“At bloody LAST!”
The blond bolts out the door, followed closely by Dawn’s remark of “see you never, arsehole!” As his partner follows along, in rather calmer and more subdued fashion, he can be heard muttering, half to himself:
“Useful…make ourselves useful…”
WELCOME TO CORPORATE AMERICA
Backstage at GWEF Domination #3, a teenager is so enraged about the result of her first-ever match that her partner is forced to restrain her to keep from doing something rash.
“This ain’t over, ‘p—a’!! Ya hear?? ‘Esto no se quedará así. pinche pendeja de m—‘”
“LANGUAGE, Angel”, her male partner growls. “I’m gonna need you to calm down…”
“F—k ‘calm down‘”, the teenager roars. “That was some BULLSHIT!”
Then, to her interloper’s surprise, she throws her head onto his shoulder and begins to cry, with big, heaving sobs. Initially taken aback, the man eventually leans in himself, wrapping an arm around the girl and patting her back comfortingly as she bawls:
“I just wanted—I wanted to—”
“I know, kid,” the man says, his pats turning to a steady rub. “Shhh…it’s okay…”
A long moment elapses thus – the teenager steadily crying herself out – before the pair are approached by a backstage staff member for the second time that evening. Unlike the PR agent from earlier, however, the pencil-pusher simply confirms the two individuals’ identities before commenting:
“Man, you guys need bank accounts. Seriously! What are you, homeless or something?”
The man declines to comment, simply taking the slip of paper and wad of notes the staffer hands him; his teenage companion, however, has a rather more effusive reaction:
“Saul! That dude just gave us HELLA money! An’ we ain’t even had to ask him or nothin’!”
“Yup.” The man is now smiling even broader. “That’s the beauty of having a real job. You get paid no matter what.”
The teenager’s eyes widen, her mouth forming an O-shape.
“You mean all this is my PAY?!”
“Yup.” The smile on the man’s lips is even bigger now.
“For that one fight with that one girl back there?”
“Yyyyup.” The grin on Saul’s lips keeps on expanding.
“Why, though? I ain’t even win!”
“It’s like I just told you. This is our job now. And in a real job, you get paid no matter what.”
“No matter what?!” The teenager appears to be having a hard time processing this information.
“No. Matter. What.”
“AWESOME!” The girl immediately breaks out of her funk, once again becoming her usual, chatterbox self: “So now we got all this money, we should go to, like, Disneyland or somethin’! If don’t nobody care if we here or not, and we gonna get paid all the same…”
“…that’s not exactly how it works, Angel”, the man puts in, gently.
“WHAT?!” Angel’s mood immediately changes again, from giddy excitement to unbridled anger. “You just said we was gonna get paid no matter what!”
“Yeah”, the man retorts. “IF we show up to work when we need to. We can’t just go to Disneyland and expect them to pay us for NOT being here…you know?” Then, bringing things down to a level the teen can understand: “Kind of like how you can’t expect to pass your grades if you never go to school…”
“Yeah…Guess that makes sense…” The teenager is now visibly calmer, and – most importantly – appears to have forgotten all about her frustrating debut defeat. “Difference is, don’t nobody give a s—t about school, an’ everybody gives a s—t about money…”
“I…guess”, Saul puts in – not that his partner is listening.
“Real talk, tho’…we should go to Disneyland anyway! One time when they ain’t need us here…”
Suddenly, the teen pauses, a penny almost visibly dropping inside her head: “Wait…I got money….I GOT MONEY!” Then, in a hurried tone: “Be right back, Papi! Yo, Val! Where you at? Val! VAL!!!”
As the girl takes off down the hall, screaming for fellow GLOBAL superstar Valorie Vitality, her partner watches her go for a moment, the same benevolent smile still on his features, before he follows after her, the better to ensure nothing calamitous happens.
I DID NOT HAVE RELATIONS WITH THE PRESIDENT...
The freckled, blue-eyed Tobias Bellamy kitted out with a light brown hat, green t-shirt, and blue cargo pants, notable for the distinctive knee brace on his left leg. Let’s not forget the red satchel for his laptop and supplies is sitting across from Victor Ingram Price in a private dressing room. Price is kitted out in a particularly brave all-purple suit and has a black eye.
Tobias leans forward: “So, Mister Price – or should I use VIP, so we don’t confuse the audience?”
Sitting back with his arms hanging over the plush pink sofa, Victor laughs falsely: “You can call me whatever you like, Tobias, and Happy New Year to you, too. VIP would probably work best, but you can also call me Vic like my friends do.”
Tobias replies: “Alrighty, I’ll keep that in mind. Now to start off… Rumor goes that you started your wrestling career fairly young, but there’s no word on what hooked you in?”
Relaxed, Price nods: “Rumor is right. I grew up idolizing people like Ray Young, and my parents paid for me to get training from some of the greatest wrestlers to ever grace a canvas.”
Tobias doesn’t miss a beat: “It seems you’re quite well traveled too: nbW, Revolution and GSCW – that’s quite the repertoire right there!”
Price flatteringly bows: “Thank you. It’s been an amazing education, and I’ve won some titles along the way, but I’m still learning and GLOBAL is the next step.”
“Since you’ve been in all of these places, surely you have some good stories to share? Favorite match, greatest accomplishment, weirdest thing a fan has tossed on the ring?” Tobias chuckles at his own question.
“My greatest accomplishment and match would be stopping The Unstoppables with El Principe to win the nbW Tag Team titles, as well as winning the Blitzkrieg title, too. As for the weirdest thing – too many to mention! It’s all good, though.”
“So, after all these experiences, why GLOBAL? What’s in here that caught your eye this time? What is your goal?”
“To win the GLOBAL championship is the ultimate aim, but then again, it is for everyone else. It’s also in my backyard – Hollywood, California, so not as much traveling, and it’s one of the best platforms in professional wrestling with plenty of opportunities, both here and beyond.”
Tobias ponders: “Hm… and you think you can reach that goal on your own?”
VIP bullishly replies, crossing his arms: “I believe so. Obviously, my trainers, past and present, have gotten to me this point, but it’s up to me to go and do it.”
Bellamy mirrors VIP by crossing his arms: “That’s quite admirable. I was slightly worried you’d abuse your connections to the GLOBAL for that – you see, I did some background checking and found this lovely picture from a year back – the photographer really captured the faces well on this one,” he proudly declares, passing the photo for Price to take a look.
Victor’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat: “Where…Where did you get that? Well, Giovanni and I are friends, I make no secret of that, and it just so happens he’s the President…
Bellamy interrupts: “…And CEO of GLOBAL.”
VIP sits back, crossing his arms and desperately trying to regain his composure.
Breathe. Walking out now would make you look like a complete dick. Stay calm. Get out of her as quickly as possible.
“Tobias, it’s been a pleasure,” Victor says standing up and extending his hand.
“I’ve got a big match tonight,” VIP tells Tobias, smiling and nodding his head.
Bellamy’s curiosity gets the better of him: “Who against?”
“You mean you don’t know? I’m surprised. Well, let’s not ruin the surprise.” Victor turns to exit.
“Good luck,” Tobias exclaims cheerfully.
I’ll need it, asshole.
The hall is empty, aside from one reporter, and a slightly tiny voice that was broadcasted from a small, tiny recorder. Dark and foreboding, perfect for a wannabe detective to get the right mood on.
“Where did you get that? Well, Giovanni and I are friends, I make no secret of that, and it just so happens he’s the President-”
Tobias leans against the wall, pressing a button on his little recorder – VIPs last lines in the interview immortalized.
“Where did you get that? Well, Giovanni and I are friends, I make no secret of that, and it just so happens he’s the President-”
“-Giovanni and I are friends, I make no secret of that, and it just so happens he’s the President-”
A small smirk appears as he clicked the button on the side again – one side of his mouth quirking up as he looks down at his little device. And just like that, the truth is out. Maybe his interview with PTA hadn’t been a complete disaster – maybe VIP had underestimated him because of that, who knew? Still. A single slip-up had been enough.
ALEX REYN Vs VIP
‘Downton’ Jason Brown makes the announcement.
“The following contest is scheduled for one-fall! First, from Los Angeles California! Weighing in at 258 lbs! Victor! Ingram! Price!”
Firstly, the theme music: Cee Lo Green’s ‘Bright Lights Bigger City.’ The catchy 2009 number once again serenades V.I.P down to the ring.
As he walks that aisle, having forked out thousands of dollars on a glorious gold and purple robe with ‘VIP’ sparkling across his shoulders and neck, the leggy VIP also has matching tights. To complete the entrance of someone who cannot hide his ambition to be ‘The Star’ here in GLOBAL, fireworks shoot off from the stage, spraying gold glitter in all directions.
However, as he walks up the steps, and onto the apron, smiling ear to ear and revelling in the attention, Allie notices something.
“Guys… Something’s off.”
“What? Like the fact that this git STILL HAS A JOB?!!” The Mark jeered in his unbiased and professional manner.
“No, you twit. Look at his eyes! His smile looks almost… forced.”
They notice it now too as V.I.P climbs into the ring. Despite the smile and wave, his eyes look focused. Serious and…
“Hang on.” The Mark says “Is it just me or does Price look-”
He goes quiet as a soft chant began to spread throughout the arena. Starting as a whisper but growing into a chorus as the lights darken while images begin to flicker on the viewers screens. Images of violence, war, and a solitary figure watching it all.
The Mark has gone pale.
“No… No, no, no, no. They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t dare-”
His partners look equally stunned.
The chanting has grown louder now and the drumbeats of Nightwish’s “Seven Days to the Wolves” rise in volume as mist spreads throughout the stadium, ghostly images of great heroes and villains forming two parallel lines along the ramp.
The rock part of the song kicked in and thunder roared while fire erupted on the stage, revealing the cowled form of the East Wind Alex Reyn, his hands outstretched over the flames. He’s shirtless, save for an open black cloak with a wolf skull mask. His body covered in ancient symbols and markings that seemed almost to glow and move in the firelight.
“HE’S HERE!!!” Quinn screams in absolute shock“THE EAST WIND!! THE SCOURGE OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING IS IN GLOBAL!!”
There are screams of shock from multiple fans! Others have gone deathly quiet. Jason Brown is so stunned, he doesn’t even get the introduction out, and we hear the sound of his microphone hitting the floor.
Reyn begins to walk forward, and the ghostly figures kneel as he approaches them, only to rise up as he passes them as if more energized, turning to watch as he walks, Reyn himself never breaking eye contact with the ring.
“Howl! Seven days to the wolves
Where will we be when they come?
Seven days to the poison
And a place in heaven
Time drawing near us
They come to take us”
“One of the most dangerous individuals in all of professional wrestling, this man has left entire promotions in ruin!” Allie tries to stay professional.
“jOlt, HKW, NBW, SCW… All closed down or fallen apart almost immediately after his time there! And that’s not getting into the LIVES he’s ruined and the careers he’s ended! This man has a rap sheet that would make a serial killer jealous! What is GLOBAL THINKING?!?!” The Mark yells.
Reyn climb atop the top rope and glares down at V.I.P who is VISIBLY struggling to keep his composure at the sight of the man who has decimated so many before him.
Coldly, Reyn steps down. Removing the cowl and placing it on the ring post before turning to face Victor. He takes a few steps towards Price and despite being the SIGNIFICANTLY larger wrestler, Price unconsciously steps back, while Reyn eyes him almost hungrily.
The ref calls for the bell!
AND V.I.P IMMEDIATELY PUNCHES THE REFEREE IN THE FACE THE SECOND THE BELL RINGS!!!
There’s a cry of shock from the fans!
“What is Price DOING?!” Quinn yells.
“…Getting himself disqualified.” Allie realizes.
“Normally, I’d call him a cheapskate dickless coward, and he IS… but this might be the smartest thing he can do here.” The Mark says.
The referee is holding a now bloody nose and immediately motions for the bell-
…Only for Alex Reyn to grab his hand.
“Oh no…” The Mark.
Alex, still holding the official’s wrist, looks over at a VERY pale V.I.P
“I do not believe our battle is concluded, Victor. But if you wish to engage in a battle without rules…”
He looked over at the referee
“Then on your head, be it.”
V.I.P pales even FURTHER at the implication. On commentary, Quin realizes:
“Is… Is Reyn asking for a no disqualification match?”
“I mean, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have that kind of authority.” Allie says.
Meanwhile, the referee seems to be getting some chatter in his earpiece. For a few seconds, he listens… then his eyes go wide, he seems to be checking and double checking with the person on the other end… then he walks over to confirm with Jason Brown, who looks equally shocked.
“No !@#$Ing way!” The Mark yells
“By order of GLOBAL management, this match has been officially restarted as a No Disqualification match!!”
The fans scream and on commentary, The Mark is beside himself.
“IS THE BOARD OUT OF THEIR GODDAMN MINDS!!??? REYN IS ONE THING, BUT REYN WITHOUT RULES???”
“Do you think this is punishment for what Price did to Dann?” Allie questions.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for poetic justice, ESPECIALLY where Pricktor is concerned, but this is like waterboarding someone for shoplifting!”
With his escape option cut off, V.IP seems to steal himself as Reyn eyes him coolly. Suddenly, V.I.P swings for the fences with a wild clothesline that Reyn easily ducks, but in that time,V.I.P has already slipped out the ring and started scrabbling for a weapon.
“Price is a prick, but he ain’t sloppy.” The Mark says. “That clothesline was a fakeout.”
“Agreed,”, Quinn adds. “And now it looks like he’s searching for any weapon he can fi-”
He’s cut off as they all wince as Reyn SLAMS his feet into VIP’s ribs with a slingshot swinging dropkick while he’s searching under the ring! The kick knocking VIP sprawling across the floor!
“Victor’s trying to scramble to his feet!” Quinn says, “You do not want to show ANY weakness around Alex Reyn.”
“It’s eerie the way Reyn’s moving.” Reece adds. “No hurry, no urgency, its like he’s stalking Victor.”
“Frigging Slasher Villain is what he is.” The Mark says.
Victor turns around! An attempt at a cheap shot, but Reyn easily dodges and buries a hard knee into Price’s gut!
“That knocked the wind out of his lungs!” The Mark winced.
“Price is an accomplished brawler in his own right” Quinn says, “But Alex Reyn has a level of speed and precision that few wrestlers can match.”
V.I.P stumbles back from that blow! Falling over the barricade and into the crowd, who backs FAR away from thee two of them!
“Reyn is eating him ALIVE!” Was it just their imagination or… was there actually a hint of worry in The Mark’s voice.
“Hmm…” was all Quinn said.
Reyn, maintaining that same, unhurried pace, steps onto and then off the barricade like a gazelle-
ONLY TO GET A STEEL CHAIR TO THE GUT!!
“I KNEW it!” Quinn exclaims as the fans boo!
At the confused looks from his partners, he explains: “Check the replay. He gets hit. THEN he throws himself over the barricade. He wasn’t knocked over, he was falling back.”
“…To a place where he’s literally SURROUNDED by steel chairs.” Allie realizes.
“Like I said, Price is a prick, but he ain’t stupid.”
V.I.P seizes on the opportunity! Red Carpet Treatment (Reverse STO) out on the concre-No! Reyn with A guillotine choke!
“Reyn is like a cobra!” Mark calls, “JUST when you think you have him cornered, he sinks his fangs in!”
V.IP is able to use his strength and THROW Reyn into a row of fans! But rather than capitalizing, he retreats back into the ring.
“This might be the best move Price can make.” Quinn says “We just saw how a counter from Reyn can come out of nowhere.”
V.I.P is hastily making use of this time, clearing off the announce desk, throwing chairs into the ring, grabbing a chair for himself. Comforted by the weapon in his hands, he steadies himself, ready now as Reyn steps over the barricade.
“Price has himself a weapon, but will it be enough?” Quinn asks.
“I hope so.” The Mark says before he can stop himself.
Reyn circles V.I.P like a hungry wolf, while Victor moves to keep him in sight.
Suddenly, Reyn looks away. Distracted maybe? An opening?
Victor- No… No, Victor knows a trap when he sees it. He keeps his cool. He doesn’t rush in, and is rewarded with a slight tilt of the head and smile from Reyn,
“I think Reyn just showed Price a little respect there for his ring savvy.” Allie notes
The anticipation is continuing to build… Victor knows he can’t act too hastily. He has to be cautious. He has to wait for the right-
A CLAYMORE KICKS THE STEEL CHAIR INTO HIS FACE!!
“He was being TOO cautious.” Quinn explains, “He started overthinking and Reyn took advantage.”
With V.I.P stunned, Reyn grabs the chair, jams Victor’s hand into it…
And stomps the chair shut around Price’s hand.
There’s a grotesque snapping sound, followed by V.I.P screaming in agony! Trying to roll away! Trying to escape! The fans seemed stunned and commentary looks pale as V.I.P leans on their desk.
Reyn comes charging i- PRICE CAUGHT HIM WITH A HIPTOSS THROUGH THE ANNOUNCERS TABLE!!!
There’s a cheer from the fans who, while not Price’s biggest fans, have no desire to see a man mutilated. Speaking of which, V.I.P is clutching his hand, calling for the referee to help him tape it. The official looks reluctant at first (Victor DID punch him in the nose), but decides that he needs to do his job and starts helping apply tape to the broken
REYN FROM BEHIND THROWS THE REFEREE INTO THE RINGPOST!!
The shocked crowd screams, followed by loud boos upon the East Wind as he coldly looks down at the official.
“Typical Reyn. Not concerned about the official if he can still beat a man till he’s unconscious.” The Mark says sourly.
SUDDENLY, THE BOOS TURN TO CHEERS AS V.I.P GRABS REYN FROM BEHIND IN A SLEEPER!!!
“Speaking of unconscious!!” Quinn exclaims.
However, the grip isn’t quite as good as it could be and Reyn is able to twist enough in the hold to bite down on Victor’s broken hand!
The fans boo, and Victor cries out, but instead of using that as a distraction to escape, Reyn keeps hold of Victor’s wrist and keeps biting! Again and again! Inflicting more pain and damage on the already broken hand!
“Jesus Christ! I feel like I’m watching what happened to Charla Nash!” The Mark groans in horror,
“Do NOT look that up!!” Allie hurriedly warns the fans.
Back to the fight and V.I.P manages to shove his tormentor off with a hard kick, but although the East Wind winces and slides back from the blow, there is a look of predatory excitement mixed in with his steely gaze.
“Price is in a bad way.” Quinn says, “He’s fighting one of the most dangerous people in our industry practically one-handed.”
“And Reyn’s barely taken any damage!” The Mark adds, “Sure he went through the table, but that was only a hip toss. Even one through a table won’t keep most athletes down for long!”
Perhaps out of desperation, Victor charges in! Trying to take Alex’s head off with one-handed haymakers, but the elusive East Wind ducks and weaves between the blows with infuriatingly casual ease!
“He’s toying with him!” Quinn calls
Suddenly Reyn makes his move! Slipping past another blow, but instead of firing a punch of his own, he clasps his teeth around Victor’s throat!!”
“It’s like a leopard with a gazelle!!” Allie screams.
“He’s gonna kill him!” The Mark cries.
They collapse onto the floor, Reyn’s teeth still firmly around his opponent’s jugular! The referee unconscious and V.I.P scrabbling to find anything to save himself as he feels the air leaving him!
BAM!!! He gets hold of a monitor and cracks it across the East Wind’s skull!!
The blow detaches the two of them, and Price immediately backs as far away from Reyn as possible. The cameras get a close up on him and the fans see, not the arrogant A-Lister, but a man fighting for his very life. He’s holding his hand to his throat where there is a small trickle of blood and coughing violently. His hair is a mess, his face plastered with sweat, and there’s no disguising the naked fear in his eyes.
Grabbing the monitor again, he tries to go on offense, but Reyn had too much time to recover and in his near panicked state, Victor threw caution to the wind and takes a kick right to his knee as a result!
As Reyn rolls to his feet, we see a bleeding cut on his head from where the monitor struck him, and it’s clear his movements have slowed. But it’s not enough, as he grabs the monitor himself and smashes it on Victor’s GOOD hand!
“He already broke one hand. He’s probably trying to break the other!” Quinn explains.
Well that plan seems to be working as Reyn grapevines Victor’s arm, grabs a shard of glass that had been knocked loose from the monitor screen, and begins slicing deep cuts on the membrane between a screaming V.I.P’s fingers!!!
“HE’S TORTURING HIM!!!” Allie screams.
“Not even Victor deserves this.” The Mark says quietly.
The fans clearly agree, as they’re all in on booing Reyn now and cheering on his opponent. Either spurred on by the fans or, more likely, his own self-preservation, Victor uses the classic armbar counter technique to roll Reyn up and try to hit him with a ground and pound elbow (A punch isn’t an option here, but the reduced range allows the East Wind to dodge and roll away. But he’s forced to release his grip to do so, so thank goodness for small mercies.
Forcing himself to his feet, Victor looks eyes with Reyn, who tilts his head as he regards his opponent.
“Victor isn’t even able to make a fist with the way his hands are.” Quinn says
The East ind steps forward, and the crippled V.I.P steps back. Even as the blood drips down Reyn’s face, that coldly predatory look is in his gaze.
“He can’t punch, he can’t grab… This is seriously bad for Price and Reyn knows it.”
Reyn is getting closer and closer with small, unhurried steps. He’s toying with his opponent and the crowd knows it as they let Alex Reyn have it with a deluge of boos and encouragement for Victor who, despite this severe handicap, wants to go down swinging!
A kick from V.I.P! No, Reyn catches it and sweeps the leg! Victor’s head bounces off the mat and perhaps realizing that trying to take on the East Wind itself while quite literally unarmed is NOT the right play and chooses the better part of valor, deciding to get as far away from this nightmare opponent as possi-
…Reyn is standing in front of him, blocking his path.
“HOLY CRAP, HE’S FAST!!”
The replay shows Alex flanking Victor, sprinting along the barricade with the ease of a trapeze artist to land in front of his opponent. Back turned and arms spread as though baiting an attack.
“This is a trap. He KNOWS it’s a trap!” The Mark says with evident worry.
Allie sadly shakes her head.
“He’s being tortured and tormented. Physically and mentally. He’s trapped, cornered, in flight or fight. In this situation, even someone like Price would-”
With an almost FERAL scream, Victor Ingram Price lunges at his opponent.
Reyn sidesteps the attack like a matador! Snaking an armaround a Victor who is now infront of him!
EAST WIND CUTTER!! (Lifting rolling cutter)
V.I.P WITH A VICTORY ROLL!!
“HE’S STILL GOT IT!!!” The Mark cheers along with the fans (A moment he would later INSIST be removed from the network)
REYN KICKS OUT!!
“A kick out by the East Wind, but that was a close fall as Price’s rally took the debuting nightmare completely by surprise!” Quinn is on his game as always.
Unfortunately, it looks like Victor is going to pay for his defiance as Reyn grabs him by both hands and TWISTS THE FINGERS ON HIS CUT AND BROKEN HANDS!!!
The commentary looks sick, the crowd is booing loudly and Victor is letting out a ghastly scream of agony until Reyn rams a knee into his face!
Blood splatters from a clearly broken nose, but the East Wind is not done. A second knee.
“Jesus Christ, man, that’s enough!” The Mark yells.
But Reyn isn’t done. The commentary cannot stop him.
But V.I.P CAN.
“PRICE JUST RAMMED REYN INTO THE BARRICADE!!” Quinn cheers.
Wrapping the East Wind in a bear hug to avoid having to grab him with his hands, V.I.P rams him into the ring apron next! Now a gutwrench lift into a powerbomb position!
“Brilliant from V.I.P!” Quinn calls “By using a Gutwrench, he doesn’t have to use his hands to lift his opponent!”
“Yeah, but he WILL have to use his hands for the next part… Come on Victor, tough it out for once in your life!”
V.I.P s struggling to get his hands under Reyn to give him the VIP Treatment (Elevated Powerbomb)!!
He only hesitates for a second.
But a second is all it takes.
“Reyn just hurricanrana’d V.I.P into the ringpost!” Quinn calls.
With his opponent stunned and leaning against the ringpost, Reyn takes a second to regard his opponent. Actually looking impressed.
Then he superkicks Victor’s head into the metal pole.
The entire team cringes at the impact!
But the East Wind is not done.
No one has survived it.
And no-one will.
V.I.P’s skull hits the outside mat with a grotesque thud, and Reyn stands over his fallen opponent.
“It’s over.” Quinn says with a hint of relief in his voice. “Now Reyn just has to drag him into the ring and wake up the ref for the pin.”
“…Wow, this entire fight and they never actually fought in the ring.” The Mark realizes.
Reyn doesn’t drag V.I.P in the ring. Instead, he’s now looking at the ring steps and… walking towards them, he begins to shit them, so there’s a small gap between the steps and the ring post.
…A gap just large enough for a human head.
“No! NO! NO! NO! YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH! JUST PIN HIM!!!” The Mark screams.
“…he doesn’t care about the official decision so long as the opponent stops moving.” Allie repeats softly as the horrific implications hit them all.
As Reyn leans down to drag Victor over to the steps, he leans down to speak softly to his opponent, and a brave cameraman is able to get close enough to pick up the audio.
“NBW Scorched. 2017. You interfered in MY fight… Time to pay your debt.”
He drags V.I.P so that his head is in the gap between the stairs and the ring corner, then backs away towards the barricade, staring down V.I.P who is lying there with his head between the ring steps and the corner
Quinn’s eyes widen as he suddenly realizes what Reyn is thinking.
“No… he can’t be…”
“PRICE, MOVE!” Mark shouts as Alex Reyn charges in and dropkicks the stairs into the corner.
…With Victor Ingram Price’s head in between.
A sickening crack echoes throughout the silent Arena as the fans in attendance, the commentary, the timekeeper and Jason Brown stare in shock.
V.I.P isn’t moving.
And Reyn has already left.
Jason Brown takes the microphone. Looking absolutely stunned by what he’s just seen.
“Uh… due to the referee… this match… Jesus Chist, fuck the match, someone should get the doctors down here!”
Belatedly, our camera crew decides to divert its attention away from the carnage bestowed on VIP, giving Lucas Quinn the chance to offer his thoughts on what he has just witnessed.
“When our ring announcer, who I’m sure will apologize and he has nothing to be sorry for, swears live on television then you know someone has gone too far. Alex Reyn’s reputation precedes him, and through private discussions with The Mark, I was aware of his reputation as a potential recruit here. I speak only for myself here: As talented as Alex Reyn is, I urge Giovanni Ferrari and the Board of Directors to immediately fire him, or at the very least, suspend him indefinitely.”
Lucas looks to his left, and The Mark steps up: “We see VIP, who I’m not a fan of personally for the record, being wheeled out, another potentially amazing career tragically cut short. When is enough enough? Who keeps hiring this monster? Why does Alex Reyn have a job in the professional wrestling industry? Hundreds, if not thousands, of people inside and outside the industry wanna know the answer. Giovanni Ferrari, take as much time as you need, but answer the question like your company depends on because – it does.”
VIRAL COMEDY (4)
An unpopulated virtual chat bar scrolls down the right of the screen and slowly starts to gather new members.
E Z Rah looks directly into the camera lens of his phone.
He is wearing a tight white T-shirt with one of his NFT’s on it.
Around him a slight murmur of noise bubbles along with the quiet humming of cars driving by, headlights flickering against the pitch black sky.
He looks bleary eyed as he smiles a wide open-mouthed smile into the camera.
“Hey wassup guys it’s the big E Z here bout to end some dudes whole career. I’mma give you a chance to tell all your friends to get online ASAP and check it out so make sure you smash that share button like I’mma smash your Mum”
E Z laughs to himself before addressing the camera again.
“Hope y’all been keeping up with me in GLOBAL so far. But in case you been sleeping on it here’s a lil recap for y’all. Some wannabe jokester, David Larry or something forgettable like that, tryna make a name for himself at the big E Z’s expense. So let me tell you, it ain’t goin’ down like that.”
E Z sneers.
“This fool ‘bout to learn the hard way that comin’ for E Z is gunna be anything but E Z. I go down hard and I go down swinging. Even though I embarrassed this dude last week, it ain’t over till I say it’s over.”
E Z positions the camera of his phone in front of himself as he moves towards the entrance of a building decorated with neon lights. Above the door the lights read “Big Todd’s”.
He pushes the door open to reveal a large open space venue filled with round tables, each surrounded by a small handful of people. He points his camera up to the stage to reveal Larry David, looking as smart as ever in a navy blue sports jacket, a neatly pressed white shirt, and some smart blue denim jeans. He is wearing a pleased smile on his face, which drops as he notices E Z.
“Now look here,” Jerry says into the microphone, gesturing over towards E Z, “Now what’s the deal with these Millennials?”
As soon as Jerry says the word ‘Millennials’ E Z rushes the stage, catching an audience member in the back of the head with his elbow as he rushes past the round tables, and slides up onto the stage, taking Jerry down with a swift double-leg takedown.
Viewers of his feed miss all of this, as his camera flails around, a mixture of light and dark flickering across the viewers screens.
Inside the comedy club, however, the audience are treated to the following bloodbath.
E Z, having taken Jerry down with the double-leg takedown, quickly mounts Jerry and smashes him in the forehead with the butt of his phone. He hits him over, and over, until a thick wound opens on his forehead. E Z’s phone starts to fall apart in his hand and he tosses it to one side.
Undeterred, he grabs Jerry’s hair with his left hand and bitch slaps him across the face.
Jerry is dazed, blood blurring his vision, but he makes out the shape of his microphone lying on the stage floor. He reaches for it and swings it wildly at E Z who easily dodges it.
Half of the audience have made for the doors, but the other half, the less desirable half, are standing around the edge of the stage like a group of vultures waiting to pick at the bones of the bloodied carcass of Jerry David.
E Z rolls to his feet and stomps the ribs of Jerry a few times, before heading over to where the band would normally be seated.
Fortunately, the band are on a contractually agreed smoke break, and are nowhere to be seen. Their instruments, however, remain neatly nestled in their respective holders.
E Z picks up a bass guitar and slings the strap over his shoulder, mimicking playing it. His performance is aimed at one of the several people filming the brawl.
He removes the strap as Jerry gets up to both knees, raises the bass over his head, and brings it crashing down into the forehead of Jerry. The neck of the bass snaps on contact, the body of the guitar dropping to the stage with a heavy thud. This is followed shortly by the body of Jerry David hitting the stage with an equally dull thud.
“You wanna mess with me, brah? Nah. Ain’t gon’ be that E Z.” E Z spits between heavy breaths.
He pics Jerry up by his belt and the scruff of his neck before tossing him through the drum kit.
Bah-Dum-Tish, goes the drum kit.
Suddenly two heavy-set men wearing black t-shirts rush onto the stage, standing between E Z Rah and the bloodied, beaten and unconscious Jerry David, who lies in a heap amongst the drums and cymbals. They hold up their hands and gesture at the door, shouting at E Z to “calm down” and letting him know that Jerry has “had enough”, that it is “time to leave, buddy.”
“Chill. I’mma head out.” E Z says, dropping from the stage and walking past the blood-thirsty audience.
He turns and looks back over at the carnage-strewn stage.
“One more thing though. This ain’t over Jerry. I’mma see you again, man. And when I do, I’mma end your wrestling career and your stand-up career, cause when I’m done wit’chu, y’all ain’t gon’ be able to stand up at all.”
And with that, E Z turns and shoves open the door to the comedy club. As he leaves, he throws a hand gesture up in the air, yelling “Like, Share, and Subscribe!”
DRAMA AT THE FIT FACTORY (3)
FRIDAY – 3:00 AM
We find ourselves at the Fit Factory one more time. It’s early morning, and the lights are already on this time as the Prime Time Athletes are already in the gym working out. Jimmy Classic turns to his partner Trae Larkin and asks his partner, “What do you think those two meatheads are going to do when they find out we never left?”
Trae Larkin finishes his squats and responds, “Hopefully, they realize that we are younger, more fit, and have twice the star appeal as they do.”
The door swings open, and standing in shock and frustration are Greg Matthews and Damon Somner of the Health Fanatics.
Damon Somner shouts out, “Ah, hell naw!”
Jimmy Classic turns to the late arrivers and comments, “What’s the matter? It looks like you two have finally realized that the Fit Factory is now the Prime Time Factory.”
Greg Matthews drops his bag and steps up to Trae Larkin, and it only takes a second before what is a usual pissing contest turns physical.
Greg Matthews shoves the Suplex Ninja backward. Jimmy Classic disrespectfully slaps Damon Somner across the face.
Damon Somner snarls as he grabs the arrogant superstar and sends him across the room unexpectedly and into a rack of mats.
Trae Larkin doesn’t waste any time as he kicks Greg Matthews in the stomach and pulls him in, sending him backward with an exploder suplex.
Damon Somner turns and clotheslines the Suplex Ninja as he hops back to his feet, sending him into a near 360 flip in the air. Somner shouts out, “Respect!” Only to get disrespected as Jimmy Classic places the rubber stretch bands across Somner face and yanks him down with it. He then grabs a forty-five-pound weight nearby and begins lifting it up, but Greg Matthews hits him across the face with a folded-up yoga mat.
Trae Larkin is back up, and he rushes using a jump box as leverage to leap up and lands across the back of Matthews, locking on a sleeper hold from behind. The racket inside the room has gotten the eyes of the graveyard shift of the Fit Factory.
Damon Somner pulls Jimmy Classic up and smashes his head forward with a headbutt that drops Classic to his knees, but he reaches up and gives the muscle head with a low blow that stops him dead in his tracks.
Greg Matthews charges backward, crashing Larkin, who is holding onto the bigger man, into the weight rack, making a loud crash.
Finally, staff and security made their way into the weight room area; they began to pull the men apart, trying to secure order at 3:15 AM.
Greg Matthews shouts, “This isn’t over.”
Jimmy Classic responds, “Not even close. We will see you two at the next Domination.”
Trae Larkin, still shaking the cob-webs from being tossed back into the weight rack, tries to get loose from security but is unsuccessful as Damon Somner places his hand on his partner’s shoulder.
“These two want a welcoming party to GLOBAL; then we will be happy to welcome them.”
Trae Larkin gets the last word in before the Health Fanatics are forced out the door, “Looking forward to it!”
We cold-open straight into an indoor baseball training facility.
“Do YOU have what it takes to be the next great ballplayer? BCNA is looking for you!”
A radar gun clocks a fastball at 101 mph. When the gun is lowered, the blur that concealed the pitcher vanishes slowly to show Chicago Frost SP Reese Felder still in his pitching stance.
“If you can hit that pitch, you deserve to be here.“
A ball sent flying across home plate via a pitching machine is smashed to Oblivion by Montreal Stampede 1B Nadia Markos.
“Think you can smack a ball harder than I can? Come prove it.“
A fastball whizzes into – and then almost THROUGH – a glove. The thrower, Brooklyn Big Apples star pitcher Jordan “The Blade” Jacobs, holds his pose for a moment or two before casually throwing his mitt over his shoulder and walking towards the camera, his trademark lopsided smile on his features as he points out towards the lens.
“You wanna be a baller?”
The pitcher then points towards himself.
“Sign up for BCNA and you’ll get to hang out with the Fastballer!”
His tone levels out as he states:
“Tryouts are open RIGHT NOW for all free agents – especially hot chicks and dudes who aren’t gonna try and steal The Blade’s spot.”
He winks at the camera.
“Speaking of which…holla at The Blade, ladies…!”
Next up, Philadelphia Crash’s slender young brunette outfielder, Gina ‘THE WINNAH’ Carelli, is seen running the bases at dizzying speed, sliding into home just in time to address the camera.
“A strong and confident little Italian girl once said ‘We need a pitcher, not a belly itcher!’ Now, twenty-five years later, another strong and confident little Italian girl is telling YOU the same thing.”
The girl’s Italian Jersey accent comes out as she continues:
“Ya think ya got what it takes to keep me from gettin’ to base? Come play for BCNA an’ prove it!”
The outfielder’s smile grows even bigger as she concludes, in her best sales-pitch voice:
“BCNA – where everyone’s a WINNAH!”
Mood whiplash then occurs, as the complete opposite of Philly’s outfielder appears – another Italian brunette, but this one a busty, ghettoriffic marvel in a tight-fitting and modified uniform that definitely shows off her best assets, her bat slung over her shoulder as she streetwalker-struts towards the camera. Behind her, another player – this one a blonde with what appears to be an ample and shapely backside – seems almost meek by comparison, despite her intense expression. BCNA fans might recognise the duo as the ace Los Angeles outfield tag-team of Tammy Gambrini and Molly Cyrus, commonly known by the self-styled nickname of ‘Tits’n’Ass’.
“You think you hot stuff? No way you hotter’n’us”, the brunette drawls, stopping to let her partner catch up to stand beside her in a defiant arms-cross, legs-splayed pose. “We run this muthaf—n’ joint.” Then, softening her tone considerably: “But we promise we ain’t gon’ show y’all up too bad if y’all come try out…well…at least we gon’ TRY not to…”
The woman’s dirty cackle is still echoing out as the scene switches again, to show dust flying into the air near a base. The baseman stumbles forward as the umpire signals safe. When the dust settles, Brooklyn Big Apples 1B Kaitlyn Marie Fien is shown rising up from the dirt.
“BCNA is a league where we are all equal.”
A fly ball is snatched out of the air, into the glove of Portland Distortion 3B Anya Coyle.
“Where we all work together for a common goal.”
The pitching machine sends another baseball whizzing toward home plate. As the ball is about to cross the plate, a leg suddenly swings into view of the camera and kicks the baseball. The sound of a baseball hitting metal sounds off as the ball goes into hyperdrive flying toward the outfield.
The camera shifts focus enough to show Seattle Huntsmen 1B Jason Cruze standing there with a smirk on his face.
“Put me in, coach, I’m ready to play.”
He then puts a hand up over his brow to inspect his handiwork. The scene then shifts to Vice Commissioner of Baseball, Jeremiah King sitting in the scout’s section, holding a hot dog with about nineteen condiments on it. Just before he bites into it, he winks at the camera.
“Come play ball with us at BCNA!”
As the Vice Commissioner goes to chow down on his carefully crafted hot dog, the baseball kicked by Cruze comes screaming in and knocks the hot dog out of Jeremiah King’s hand and directly into his lap.
The scene abruptly cuts to the following image, fading out after a few seconds along with the music.
The screen is fuzzy, almost as if the viewer is coming out of a haze induced by a blow to the head. As the view clears up, we can make out a room that is sanitary white. It is truly impossible to discern what type of room we are looking at and that is made more difficult by what seems to be slight jerking of the camera’s lens. Finally, a familiar face appears just in the corner of the view. It is Manny, which can not be a good thing.]
“There you are!” Manny says with a sly, mischievous grin. “Now we can begin the process!”
In that moment the angle changes and we see Christian Pierson tied, no let’s be real here – strapped to a gurney. If that wasn’t bad enough, Pierson is clad only in his boxers and a tank-top style white undershirt. His head is also stuck under a couple of rubber straps, which explains the jerking of our previous view as he is still trying to get loose.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the victim asks.
Manny’s grin disappears as he steps closer to the head of the gurney, “You really have to ask?”
“Alright, alright,” Manny holds his arms up a second. As he drops them he continues, “I told you that the next time you made a fool of me, I would not take it lightly. Do you remember that?”
“Uhhh, I don’t know what you are talking about,” replies Pierson.
“Oh you don’t, do you?” taunts the aggressor. “You have selective amnesia, my friend. I gave you a full warning and then you did this to me?”
“What?” Christian fires back with urgency.
“Fine, Let’s just take a look, shall we?” Manny states as he grabs Pierson by the head and the screen goes black.
The first few drum beats are heard and the tell-tale bass beat of the classic song “Relax” is heard. This is a music video setting and a man is starting to walk through the door on the balcony door and turns quickly to remove his hat with his back to the camera. He hands the hat to an attendant and turns, it is Manny. He has caked on white powder on his face and is wearing a black tux. The fakest, largest smile on his face as he turns and starts singing.
“Relax! Don’t do it. When you want to go to it. Relax don’t do it. When you want to come,” sings Manny as he starts dancing his way down the staircase. He keeps singing, “Relax don’t do it. When you want to come. When you want to come!”
He reaches the bottom and has his hands wide in dance performance mode. He starts interacting with the party goers in a campy way, selling his performance big time.
“Relax don’t do it. When you want to go to it. Relax don’t do it. When you want to come.” he croons as he suggestively grabs a lady on her bum. “Relax don’t do it. When you want to suck to it. Relax don’t do it. When you want to come.”
He walks up to a very good looking man and places his hand on his shoulder, staring right at him.
“Come-oh oh oh,” He sings.
The song ends and the screen quickly flips back to our original scene. Manny’s face is red and even angrier than ever as he releases his grip[ on Christian’s forehead.
“Remember that motherfucker?” Manny asks insistently.
“It was a dream, Manny!” Pierson explains. “I can’t control what I dream and you can’t make something that is make believe worth doing shit like this!”
Manny shakes his head, a large knife now in his hand.
“Oh no, you broke the rules and now you are going to pay!”
As Manny starts eyeing his prey up and down, the chances this is the very end of Pierson’s life is a real possibility. Christian senses it too and starts trying to strain against his ties. He can’t break free. As Manny laughs at his struggle, the yuppy finally gives in and stops fighting it.
“What are you going to do? Mutilate me?” he asks as Manny shakes his head. “Cut a limb off or something?”
Manny raises an eyebrow almost instinctively staring at the crotch area, but finally relents and shakes his head no again.
“No,” Manny finally speaks. “I’m going to make it REALLY hurt both your eyes AND your soul.”
As he says that a woman walks into view. We only see her from behind, but we can tell she is wearing black lingerie and has long sandy blonde hair.
“You will let him go when we’re done?” She asks.
Pierson looks up when he hears the voice and cannot believe what he sees.
“M…M…Mom?” he asks with a painful look on his face.
Manny lets out a howl of laughter as he walks over and puts his arms around the woman.
“Oh yeah, and next time you call me a motherfucker you will be telling the truth. And here is what is best,” he muses, “You get to watch my performance!”
“Oh God,” Pierson strains against his ties again to no avail.
We see Manny go in for a kiss and suddenly another song begins to play with extremely loud and almost choir-like music as the voices are heard…
Mummy don’t know daddy’s getting hot.
At the body shop, doing something unholy.
The camera zooms in on Pierson’s face as he watches what is going down and suddenly…
Water flies into his face and he looks up and he is sitting at a restaurant with a suit on. A very angry brunette sitting across from him with a now-empty glass in her hand.
“The least you can do is not stare into space when your date is talking!” She yells and gets up in an absolute huff.
She walks off as Pierson shakes off everything that was just in his head and realizes what is going on. He jumps up to follow her out of the restaurant.
Outside he catches up to her and manages to reach out and grab her at the elbow. He wheels her around to speak to her.
“Listen, I’m sorry, I really am.” He starts off saying. “Sometimes my brain goes into neutral. It isn’t a seizure of anything, but it acts like one. I just freeze up.”
“I don’t care,” she retorts. “I told myself I would never be ignored or treated that way again. So lose my number creep!”
She storms away and just as Christian starts to walk after her again, an arm comes from the alley he was standing near and we suddenly see Manny again.
“Hey buddy,” he begins. “She isn’t worth it anyway.”
“This is your fault,” Pierson states.
“No, it isn’t.” Manny responds. “I can’t help if your Mom wanted multiple rounds.”
“You bastard!” Christian yells and then goes to throw a punch, disappearing into the alley.
The screen goes black and all that is heard is Manny laughing and that haunting song again as we hear them sung again….
Mummy don’t know daddy’s getting hot.
At the body shop, doing something unholy.
The screen fades to black.
BROTHERS AND SISTERS
The Informer is standing by with Freddie, Todd, Declan and Donny, standing from left to right and in their pecking order, essentially. Predictably, the man with the mask goes to The Rich Family Frontman, ‘The First’ Freddie Rich.
“Freddie, you’re in this situation again. You’ve got a number of options at your disposal. Will you pick yourself and Todd for experience? Declan or Donny for youth and the surprise factor? What should we expect out of The Rich Family in tonight’s main event?”
Cheered on by the crowd who are clearly privy to this not-so-secret backstage interview segment, Freddie Rich steps forward, hands in pockets, and leans into The Informer’s microphone, shrugging his shoulders: “Who knows? Freddie and Todd? Todd and Declan? Declan and Donny? Freddie and Donny? Your guess is as good as ours. Tell ‘em, Todd!”
Todd takes up the mantle as The Informer extends the mike: “So many possibilities. So much talent – on both sides. Four of us here, three of them, and we’re looking forward to it.”
Declan chimes in: “The Master Sisters are a tremendous team, but they’re not as hungry as we are. We’ve been in this position before, and we’re determined not to let it slip this time.”
Declan in turn passes ‘the stick’ to Donny: “Brothers versus sisters. They’ve been fighting their entire lives, and so have we, and they haven’t got the advantage they’d usually have. There are four of us, and three of them, so the possibilities Todd talked about earlier. The probability is…”
All four Rich Family members lean forward and shout into the microphone in sync: “AND THE NEW…”
Freddie leads the team, the four following each other like The Beatles on Abbey Road, into battle against The Master Sisters, who are also the masters of GLOBAL’S doubles division.
Brothers v Sisters.
Tag Team titles.
Your main event.
THE MASTER SISTERS Vs THE RICH FAMILY
During the very first match in GLOBAL history, the Master Sisters captured the Tag Team titles, the latest in a long line of accomplishments for the trio of siblings.
Meanwhile, The Rich Family are the opposite, desperate to secure their first-ever championship, having failed to do so in two previous promotions in spite of several high-profile opportunities.
Marcus Anthony Newman, GLOBAL’s main event announcer, tells the crowd that the show-ending bout is night and what’s at stake.
The Rich Family appear at the top of the ramp, headed by Todd surprisingly, as the crowd gets a surprise. It’s not very sexy, but they walk the aisle, sans theme music. Todd is backed up by Declan, Donny and then Freddie at the rear, who takes one glance back at the curtain, and is told by Todd to keep up.
The camera zeroes in on Freddie as he climbs the stairs and removes his jacket, hinting at the fact that he will participate here.
Over to Newman: “Welcoming the challengers…representing The Rich Family, and accompanied by Donny and Declan…Freddddddie and Tooooood RRRRRRRiccccch!!”
There we have it. No shocks on the selection front there. The first-choice pairing of the stable, and the ones one who get a second crack at trying to alter what happened on Domination 1.
Speculation on commentary regarding Freddie Rich’s focus, as he seems somewhat detached from the excitement and togetherness of his two brothers and cousin around him. How will that come out in the wash? Let’s find out as the silence, save for some cheers here and there, is interrupted.
It’s with a remixed version of “Love is a Parasyte” by Blanck Mass that the current Tag Team Champions, The Master Sisters enter the arena. By remixed, we mean that it’s the normal version, but with added “boos” by the audience.
“Their opponents…representing the GLOBAL Tag Team champions…accompanied by Aurora… Dawn and Moonlight Master…THE MAAAAAASTERRRRR SISSSTERRRS!!!”
As usual, that does not seem to bother the sisters. The smaller sister, “Dr. Carnival” Dawn Master, singular Master, is actually quite cheerfully high-fiving the audience… in the face.
Aurora is behind her, slowly showing both Tag Team belts to the slapped people. Going as far as literally rubbing it in some people. She’s somehow fast enough to pull them back that no one actually managed to take it for themselves, though a couple of people got very, very close. Moonlight… she just walks behind them, as usual. Following her older sisters into the ring, where they wait for their opponents.
This family versus family match starts with Todd and Moonlight inside the ring, and Freddie and Dawn in their respective corners, both teams going for the same formation they had on their first match.
Both members in the ring lock eyes for a moment, their similar height helping stay on the same level. The first couple seconds of this match is a good old fashion grappling contest between the two, where it’s clear that Todd’s concerns on the gender of his opponents in the previous match is all but gone.
While Moonlight does well enough, it’s clear that Todd is getting the upper hand slightly, which changes to highly when he delivers a back-to-back suplex to the big small sister, the sound of her hitting the ring being somewhat muffled by the loud screams of both her sisters, Dawn in the corner and Aurora on the outside, screaming at Todd for his actions, who ignores them and quickly grabs Moonlight to not let her recover.
After delivering a couple more suplexes for good measure, he throws her to his corner and goes for a splash. He goes for a pin, but barely reaches one before being pushed away by his opponent. Moonlight struggles to get back up and Todd sees this as a chance to go for a Jumping DDT, but he was wrong. Moonlight grabs her arms around him instead and turns the DDT into a loud Spinebuster, followed by her own suplex.
Dawn laughs at the lying Todd and screams “How’d you like that motherf-?” We are not allowed to write the rest. Moonlight tags the small middle sister in, who wastes no time jumping into the top corner and hitting Todd with a Moonsault and tries to finish with a pin! One! Tw- Nope! Todd kicks out and pushes her away.
Instead of trying to keep him down, like any normal, sane person, Dawn decides to pose like a Power Ranger and tell Todd to “come at her, bro”. He gets up with the help of the ropes and seems to ponder that option until Freddy tells him to tag him in. He decides to follow his older cousin’s advice and run towards the corner, but “Dr. Carnival” outruns him and lands a dropkick right on his face.
She turns to a clearly annoyed Freddie and tells him to “suck it”, gesturing to her groin. Instead of focusing his anger on the legal sister, he rather angrily tells Todd to get up, while Aurora further instructs Dawn that “she has nothing there to suck”.
While Dawn is busy telling her older sister to “suck it too”, Todd gets up and grabs the pink-haired head and delivers a hangman’s neckbreaker, finally giving Todd the time to breathe and to tag his brother in, who gets in the ring with a wave of cheers.
“Suck this!” He says, delivering a fist drop on the laid opponent. He doesn’t let Dawn get a rest, as he hits her with a clothesline, followed by a leg drop and a snap suplex. After the barrage of hits that left Dawn moving across the ring like the ragdoll she secretly wished she was, Freddie finally goes for the cover! One! Two! Th-! DAWN LIVES! Her arm raised at the final second, which clearly annoys the older Rich member.
He mouths a “Damn it” and tags Todd back in to deliver some more ass-whooping. When it’s clear that Dawn isn’t getting the advantage back any time soon, Aurora starts badmouthing Todd on the outside, in hopes to distract him, but it doesn’t seem to work as well as she would like, so she moves to another strategy. After a badly placed suplex that lands Dawn a bit too close to Aurora, she grabs the arms of her semi-unconscious sister and pulls her out of the ring.
Both Todd and the referee start telling Aurora that she can’t intervene, to which she replies with “five seconds” and slaps the living poop out of her sister, who seems to revitalize a bit. Aurora whispers something in her ear and lets her go, Dawn does an okay sign… and then starts sprinting around the ring. Todd tries to keep his eyes on her to see where she’s going to come in, but enters the ring quite fast from her corner and, while eyeing Todd, slaps Moonlight who seems as confused with the events as everyone else but Aurora and Dawn, which proves their plan worked.
After the confusion wears off, Moonlight gets in the ring and both opponents run towards each other, but MoonMoon gets the upper hand by hitting Todd with a Big Boot. He doesn’t stay too long in the ground, but when he does get up, he gets hit by another.
Todd doesn’t seem to catch a break, as Moonlight keeps hitting him with strong move after strong move, and, after a particularly vicious suplex, she decides to go for the cover!
One! Two! And Todd gets out!
Moonlight finally decides to end the match, grabbing him over her shoulders and getting ready to deliver her trademark finisher, “Masterpiece”! But Todd manages to counter her attack by grabbing the ropes!
While Moonlight is trying to push him out, it’s clear that Todd is close enough to Freddie that he could tag himself in and solve the problem… However, the other problem is that Freddie, for a rare moment in his career, seems to not actually be paying that much attention to the match, instead his eyes are focused on the audience! He looks a bit paranoid to the rows of people behind him, looking for someone, maybe finding that someone.
His focus is cut when Todd screams “Freddie! Tag!” a bit too close to his ear! Moonlight finally forces her opponent out of his grip, but it doesn’t stop Freddie from hitting his arm before Todd goes spinning in the air and hits face first on the ground, courtesy of a Masterpiece! Moonlight’s very own Fireman’s Carry Cutter.
Moonlight doesn’t seem to realize the tag and goes for the cover anyway, but there’s no count!
When she realizes what might have happened and gets up, it’s already a bit too late, as Freddie is already inside the ring and hits her with a Twisting Springboard Clothesline! He grabs her and sets her up for his own finisher, Filthy Rich, a Cradle Piledriver!
Seeing the end of the match not going their way, Dawn jumps in the ring and tries to go for a missile dropkick on Freddie, but it’s a bit too late! While Freddie delivers his finisher, Dawn flies above him and ends up hitting the referee instead.
The MILLISECOND the referee’s hair hits the mat, Aurora is already in the ring with a chair in hand. She tries to hit Freddie, but he avoids it and who ends up receiving it is her little sister, falling outside from the impact.
Freddie tries to take advantage of this moment to hit a distracted Aurora, but she looks at him and raises her chair, causing him to back off. Both opponents stare at each other in the midst of all the chaos, neither waiting to do the first move.
The arena bursts into cheers, causing Aurora some confusion until she looks to the side and realizes that The Rich Family has backup running down the ramp in the form of Declan, who plans to average out the numbers!
The moment he slides in, Aurora tries to hit him with the chair, but he blocks by grabbing it. Both are now trying to pull the chair from one another, which sounds like the perfect time for Freddie to intervene, but sadly for him, Moonlight is already up and looking at him.
They lock eyes and Freddie runs towards her, but she grabs him and raises him over her shoulders. Knowing perfectly her plans, Freddie hits her several times with his elbow on her face, slowly but surely making her let him go.
Once he hits the floor, there’s a trifecta of things happening! Freddie hits Moonlight one more time in the face and puts her up for the SECOND Filthy Rich! Meanwhile, Declan takes the chair out of Aurora and hits her with it, the exact moment that the referee finally gets up!
Freddie connects with Filthy Rich and seeing the referee finally up, goes for the pin!
Freddie waits for the bell to ring… but instead…
The count isn’t coming from the referee, but instead the audience!!
It seems that the dropkick knocked some of his senses out because when he saw Declan with the chair and Aurora on the mat, he went to call the match off due to a disqualification! Declan grabs his arm and desperately points out that none of them are in the match and therefore the match can’t end because of that! But this discussion meant that the referee was not paying any attention whatsoever to the events of the actual match.
“I’m covering!” exclaims Freddie, catching the attention of both his brother and the referee, who finally goes for the count!
The count is stopped by a foot on Freddie’s back, but not a foot by any of the sisters, or any female wrestler, while we’re at it, but instead the foot of one-half of the Best of British, Nigel!
Declan goes to help his brother but is knocked out by the other half, Rupert! This time there’s no room for doubt and the referee calls for the end of the match.
Aurora wakes up to the sound of the results:
“The winners of this match, via disqualification… THE RICH FAMILY! But… still your Tag Team Champions… THE MASTER SISTERS!”
BoB grab the Tag Team Titles and, not without giving a good look on how it looks on their shoulders first, throws them at Aurora’s feet, who’s sitting down near the ropes. Rupert throws in a wink and a grin for good measure, which the Sister does not at all seem impressed, or even pleased, with.
“Here’s the usefulness.” Says Nigel before leaving the ring with the rest of his team, and it’s with Aurora, the current sole conscious person in the ring, looking quite pensive towards the titles in front of her that we end Domination Three’s main event!
Jabari Crossover stands tall and proud at the small blue podium in the center of the arena at GLOBAL Studios. The bright lights of the stage shine down on him, highlighting the vibrant red and black bodysuit that he wears. His short, black hair is styled in a sleek and polished manner, and his light brown skin glows under the bright lights.
“Welcome to the GLOBAL Awards, live from the GLOBAL Studios lot in Hollywood. I’m Jabari Crossover, and it’s my pleasure to be your host for this special evening.”
As he speaks, Jabari looks out at the packed audience before him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He knows that this is his chance to showcase his talent and make his mark on the entertainment industry. And with the support of his fans and the incredible team at GLOBAL Studios, he is confident that he will succeed.
“We have a fantastic line up of awards to present tonight, starting with Superteam of the Year. This award recognizes the top tag teams in the business, and this year’s winners are…The Master Sisters! These sisters have had a breakout year, capturing the GLOBAL Tag Team Championships in a Fatal Four way match that showcased their skills and teamwork.”
Some scattered applause, but mainly boos for the top tandem in GLOBAL.
“Next up is Coach of the Year, an award that honors the individual who has made the biggest impact on the development of their wrestlers. And the winner is…Benedict Beel Zebub! Benedict is a mysterious man who seems to be supporting the career of Daniel Dream.”
On commentary, The Mark and Allie Reece are in agreement for once: Benedict freaks them out.
“It’s now time to announce the winner of Sixth Man of the Year, an award that recognizes the valuable contributions of wrestlers who may be doing shows a lot less than a full-timer, but always make an impact when they step into the ring. And the winner is…Sean Darring! Sean is a wrestler who is known for his reliability and hard work, and he previously said, “I want to be a positive influence for whatever time I have left in this business.” Sean’s hard work and dedication to his craft have made him a valuable member of any company he’s in.”
Unanimous applause from all quarters for ‘Legend.’
“It’s now time to announce the winner of Role Player of the Year, an award that recognizes the best wrestler who competes in the midcard. And the winner is…’Big Aug’ August Lazar! Big Aug has had an impressive year, winning his matches against “Verified” Chett Marx and then defeating both “Verified” Chett Marx and Tank Merlin in a two on one match.”
Plenty of cheers for the man mountain and massive fan favorite.
“Next, we have the award for Rookie of the Year, an award that recognizes the best and brightest newcomers to the wrestling world. And the winner is…Valorie Vitality! Valorie has only had two matches in her rookie year, but she’s already made a huge impact, winning both matches and remaining undefeated in her GLOBAL career so far. We have no doubt that she’ll continue to dominate in the ring for years to come.”
Again, a lot of applause for the impressive debutant, who has seen off two talented technicians in the form of El Principe and Jed Johnson in phenomenal fashion.
“For the next award, we’re going to go to the CEO and President of GLOBAL, Giovanni Ferrari.”
The camera switches to GLOBAL’s equivalent of the Oval Office: “Thank you, Jabari. The Sportsman award was a tough category to call and could easily have gone to a number of worthy winners, but in the end, we decided on Alfie Button. Well done, Alfie!”
Ferrari then reads from the next cue card: “As a reward for his hard work, effort and determination, the Hustler of the Year goes to the Crown Prince of Lucha Libre, El Principe. Well done to El Principe and all of our worthy winners. Back to you, Jabari,” Giovanni says, pointing towards Crossover.
Back at the podium: “Thank you very much, Giovanni. Before we get to the award for MVP of the Year, we have one more honor to present…Leading Lady of the Year. This award recognizes the top female wrestler in the business, and this year’s winner is…Valorie Vitality! Valorie is not only undefeated in her rookie year, but she’s also the best female wrestler in GLOBAL. We can’t wait to see what she does next as she continues to make a name for herself in the wrestling world.”
Allie Reece beams about Valorie taking her second award of the night, and how deserved it is.
“And now, it’s time for the biggest award of the night…MVP of the Year. This award recognizes the wrestler who has made the biggest impact in the ring and on the wrestling world as a whole. And the winner is…Daniel Dream! Daniel is an arrogant star who has main evented two GLOBAL Domination shows and has a reputation for being one of the most dominant wrestlers in the business. He was also known for slapping Sean Darring in their first match. Despite his flaws, there’s no denying that Daniel is a force to be reckoned with in the ring, and we can’t wait to see what he does next.”
Lucas Quinn picks up where he left off on Domination Two: “I guess it’s true…Bet on Dream, Bet on America!”
Reece and The Mark both roll their eyes at that remark.
“That’s it for the GLOBAL Awards. Thank you to all of our award winners and to all the wrestlers who have made this year such an exciting one. Here’s to many more years of thrilling action in the ring. Thank you and goodnight.”