Post by The Commissioner on Aug 20, 2020 23:47:30 GMT -5
Tonight’s Cold Open
PRELUDE TO THE TELLY
Open on a balcony overlooking a city, the morning light shines down on a table on the balcony. On it, sits a breakfast for one. A figure pours himself a glass of orange juice. Drinks it down and heads inside.
As he does so, a man in red ‘Warble Wizard’ enters and presents him with some nicely folded and ironed clothing.
The man throws the grey shirt on, taking time to do each button up properly, but deliberately leaving the top few open.
The man lifts a pair of cuff links. The cuff links are silver ‘A’s, neatly he slides them into the shirt.
He turns to a switched off TV. In the reflection we see the figure is Admiral Action. He smiles at his reflection, then elects to undo one more button. He lifts the remote and switches on the TV.
The TV opens to a news report. The reporter is stood in a hotel lobby. While the report plays Action throws on his white suit jacket and adjusts it.
Reporter on TV
The nationwide manhunt for Leslie Jones continues after the bodies of beloved actors Micheal Chiklis, Pete Davidson, Cecily Strong and Kenan Thompson were discovered by police along with this disturbing footage.
On the TV, grainy zoomed in footage plays of Leslie Jones snapping Chiklis’s neck. The footage cuts as soon as the neck is snapped.
Reporter on TV
Police are urging anyone with any information to please come forward.
Admiral Action smiles as he gets into an elevator and presses the ground floor button. The doors close on the man as he grins almost manically.
-Chorus-
The elevator opens onto crowds of people. Journalists snapping photos and fans trying to get autographs from the man who stopped the Barron. The Admiral smiles, he takes some photos and signs some papers as he moves through the group.
The reporter from the TV news earlier is in the group. Action makes a point to look at her camera and smile directly down it.
CUT TO
A rural farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Leslie Jones, bloodied and dirty sits against the wood. She’s badly wounded, but has made attempts to patch herself up. She’s wearing a handmade cast for a broken arm and has torn some of her trousers to make a covering for a head wound. She breathes heavily before dropping her head into her hand. In front of her is a small campfire that no longer burns.
CUT BACK TO
Action has made his way through the crowd, smiling and waving for the photos before getting into a car driven by Warble Wizard.
The two drive down a busy road. Action adjusts his cuff links again. Making sure the ‘A’s sit the right way up.
A few drops of rain start to hit the car. Action looks out the window at the clouds coming over them.
Admiral Action leans forward and taps on Warble Wizard’s shoulder twice.
The car pulls over and Action gets out with a white umbrella in hand.
He starts to walk down the street. The rain now falling heavily around him. He reaches a hand out to let the water touch his hand. He watches it roll off his skin and smiles.
He takes another couple of steps and is stopped by someone pulling on his jacket.
He turns to see a small child stood behind him. The child gestures up with a pad of paper. On the paper shes stuck a flyer for the AWF match down on it. Action smiles and gets down on his knees. He signs the paper then notices the child has some rain on her face.
Like a caring parent he reaches out and rubs the water off with his thumb.
-Chorus-
CUT TO
A large sunny conservatory. A nurse with a napkin wipes some drool of the face of a man in a wheelchair, Kolotov. He’s little more than skin and bones. The fallout from the drug has left little of the man behind. He stares vacantly out of the glass. He doesn’t respond as the drool is wiped away and the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. Two nurses lift him up and lie him down in a bed. He remains totally non responsive.
CUT BACK TO
Action smiles and stands. He turns to see a large poster for Barron Boneius being hurriedly taken down. The men taking it down notice him. Admiral Action shoots them a thumbs up.
The men look back shocked.
CUT TO
A high security prison. A group of prisons watch on in shock as six heavily armed men escort The Barron, in an orange prison jumpsuit towards a small dark metal room. The Barron looks at none of them. The men gesture him into the room, the only light in the room coming from a window at the top, no bigger than a wrist. The Barron still wears a pair of heavy metal ridged conjoined cuffs. The Barron enters the room and the door is slammed closed behind him.
His red eyes remain visible through a small viewing slot. The men spin and click several locks into place before one slams the viewing hole closed.
CUT BACK TO
Action stands outside the AWF hotel. The rain now pours down around him heavily. Once more he checks his cuffs.
He puts the umbrella away, allowing his clothes to get wet for a long moment before walking up to the door. He hurls the umbrella off into some bushes at the side, out of sight.
Entering the hotel the receptionist immediately recognises him. She stares in awe as he walks up, he runs his hands through his hair to get some of the water out.
Admiral Action
Hi, Admiral Action
He smiles towards her and leans on the desk.
Admiral Action
Can I come in, just wanted to check up on everyone, makes sure they’re all ok.
The receptionist nods.
Admiral Action
Thank you.
He heads into the hotel to formally make his entrance.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
INT. BUDAPEST TRAIN STATION
Fringe, Panda and Ziggy are sat in the very quiet train station. Fringe is obsessively scribbling away, every few seconds glancing up to a nearby postbox.
Fringe
(Mumbling to self)
From your mate Fringe.
Fringe takes a second to look at the thing in his hand, it's a postcard.
Fringe
Okay, I'm done, Panda have you got that stamp.
Panda
Here you go mate.
Fringe excitedly slaps his stamp on.
Fringe skips over to the postbox and tosses the postcard into it.
Tannoy Voiceover
The next train towards Vienna, Austria is arriving at platform 7.
Ziggy
That's us!
Ziggy jumps to his feet, the three friends smile and march to their platform.
INT. TRAIN
The lads are sat at a table when all the storm hits.
Tannoy Voiceover
Apologies, we will have to stop the train due to adverse weather conditions, call any loved ones, you're going to be on here at least 24 hours.
Ziggy
Oh for fucks sake, I booked our hotel, 100 quid I'm never gonna see again, stupid fucking rain, bet it isn't even that bad.
At that precise moment Ziggy stares out of the window to a thunderstorm akin to the arrival of Thor in most Thor films.
Panda
Get comfy lads.
Fringe
Big crazy storm, being trapped on a train with your best buds, Spud and Snively would love this.
Fringe cuddles up to Ziggy and Panda.
Ziggy
Literally nobody would love this.
Fringe
Oh yeah?
Ziggy
yeah.
Fringe smiles and reaches into his pockets pulling out a bag a weed that could no way on earth have fit in his pocket, he must have a pocket universe in that shit, it's like the Tardis.
Ziggy's eyes light up as Fringe also produces a makeshift bong made from a Mrs Potts teapot.
Panda and Ziggy fall into Fringes embrace, sharing a loving familial cuddle as Fringe loads up the bong.
Ziggy
Yeah I guess this could be worse.
Fringe
Yeah at least we're not trapped in some rundown hotel with that prick Stone Cold Steve Austin.
Panda
What an oddly specific thing to say.
Fringe passes Panda the Mrs Potts bong.
Fringe
Shhhhhh, you gotta smoke up if you wanna grow up to be big and strong dude.
Panda takes a hit from the bong.
Then Ziggy.
Then Fringe who extra extra loads his own hit.
The trio chill just chill, warm and safe, happily watching the unbelievable storm outside, in awe, it's like watching an environmental care documentary.
FADE OUT
As that piece hits a minute five seconds in, the PrimeTime logo animates to life in the forefront of all the ensuing action before flashing into the Max-Schmeling-Halle, Germany selling out the delayed second show of the European Leg of AWF’s Western World Tour. Greeted by a wonderful pyrotechnics display, the cameras continue cutting and crossing between views of the venue, until a gentle cross-dissolve puts us in front of the ringside commentary booth, where Jim Ross and Christian Cage sit.
Jim Ross: Welcome to Alberta Wrestling Federation’s Tuesday Night PrimeTime! We’re in Europe on our Western World Tour, and it’s a night promised to be full of action! I’m Good Ol’ JR, with multi-time wrestling world champion Christian Cage, and by god it’s All About Austin!
Christian rolls his eyes, but doesn’t let his annoyance come through his speech.
Christian Cage: It’s another night of high stakes, as not only will we kick the show off in a minute with the contract signing for next week’s World’s Championship showdown between Priscilla Kelly and Big Homunculus, but we’ve got a champion versus champion clash, a one-night tournament to decide the number one contender for the Provincial Championship, and the World Tag Team titles are on the line!
Jim Ross: But now is what matters! Because now it’s time for Austin! By god it’s time for Stone Cold!
The show crosses to just the ring from a wide shot via the hard camera. Inside the ring, similarly like AWF's only other contract signing from PrimeTime III, the apron has been covered by a lush black rug and a thin, dark teak wood office table is sat in the middle. Three microphones and a clipboard with a stack of papers are the only other things, all on the table.
Germany's crowd is one of the loudest AWF has yet had, as proven well with the volume of the boos that pour in at the sound of the Co-Commissioner's music, doubled when he pushes the curtain out of his way and stomps out into the arena, Batista accompanying him just behind. Stone Cold's pace down the ramp is much more hasty than Batista's deliberate stroll in his violetly velvet blazer.
Mark Beverly: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, being accompanied to the ring by the self-proclaimed 'Hollywood Hunk' Dave Batista, the Co-Commissioner of the Alberta Wrestling Federation: STONE COLD! STEVE! AUSTIN!
Front row fans disparage both men, Austin marching right by them as Batista offers disdainful looks through his Aviators. Stone Cold circles the ring while Batista walks up the steel steps at first visit, the Commissioner joining him only after forcing all of the front row fans of Berlin have seen him.
Inside the ring, Batista keeps to a corner like a bouncer as Commissioner Austin takes up the microphone and the clipboard in his hands.
Commissioner Austin
Let's cut the horseshit, 'cause I got beer to drink, and there's a whole lotta ass to be kicked tonight. Y'see, Stone Cold wants to see these papers signed, and I want 'em signed real fast, because Stone Cold's got a prediction.
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
What I said was: I gotta prediction!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
In fact Stone Cold's gotta couple predictions!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
Prediction numero uno!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
Big Homunculus is your next Alberta Wrestling Federation World's Champion.
Half the crowd continue with a 'WHAT?!' while the other only claps and cheers in agreement.
Commissioner Austin
Prediction two!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
He's being wasted!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
He's ain't with the right folks!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
3BN don't give a damn about Big Homunculus!
Most of Berlin boos Austin out of the building.
Commissioner Austin
But Austin gives a damn about Big Homunculus!
Everyone is booing at this point, not liking where this is going. Austin looks right into the hard camera with a finger point.
Commissioner Austin
So before I call you out here, Big Homunculus, Stone Cold needs you listen to the man who cares about you! Listen to Austin! Trust me Homunculus.
He points to himself while the crowd chants 'D-T-A'.
Commissioner Austin
I get it.
A sadistic smirk and a feverish nod. Then a point to the stage.
Commissioner Austin
The challenger, Big Homunculus!
Big Homunculus, steely eyed and focussed walks towards the stage, intense gaze bolted onto Austin's dome. It is clear that Homunculus has put on at least twenty pounds in muscle since his Elimination Chamber appearance. He slides into the ring as if he's not even a dwarf and marches straight up to the commissioner until Austin is staring up into Homunculus' flared nostrils.
Big Homunculus
You! I have been wanting to speak to you, however I have also been busy trying to speak to this Raging Dead fellow everybody seems to be so interested in. I cannot find him anywhere and Ruxx keeps yelling at me. Anyway-
Commissioner Austin
Well I done told you what a sorry-
Big Homunculus
I do not get interrupted by balds. Silence.
Austin falls silent of confusion more than anything.
Big Homunculus
I can see what a dastardly game you are playing. You and your fat movie star and other man I do not recognise, you think you are not obvious? I know what you have done. Do not worry. I will not hurt your Nickleback-looking friends. I do not want to damage them so they can blame injury and avoid justice at the hands of my brothers.
Homunculus leans in close to Austin.
Big Homunculus
(Whispers)
I know about the San Pellegrino.
Commissioner Austin
(sincere)
WHAT!?
Homunculus looks at Batista.
Big Homunculus
More things have blood in them than oranges.
Austin looks at his crony in confusion.
Commissioner Austin
What the hell have you sorry knuckleheads...
Batista shrugs in confusion.
Big Homunculus
This is not the only bald man I want to speak to. Bring me the selfish sadist they call Prince Albert. Bring him to me!
PRELUDE TO THE TELLY
Open on a balcony overlooking a city, the morning light shines down on a table on the balcony. On it, sits a breakfast for one. A figure pours himself a glass of orange juice. Drinks it down and heads inside.
As he does so, a man in red ‘Warble Wizard’ enters and presents him with some nicely folded and ironed clothing.
The man throws the grey shirt on, taking time to do each button up properly, but deliberately leaving the top few open.
The man lifts a pair of cuff links. The cuff links are silver ‘A’s, neatly he slides them into the shirt.
He turns to a switched off TV. In the reflection we see the figure is Admiral Action. He smiles at his reflection, then elects to undo one more button. He lifts the remote and switches on the TV.
The TV opens to a news report. The reporter is stood in a hotel lobby. While the report plays Action throws on his white suit jacket and adjusts it.
Reporter on TV
The nationwide manhunt for Leslie Jones continues after the bodies of beloved actors Micheal Chiklis, Pete Davidson, Cecily Strong and Kenan Thompson were discovered by police along with this disturbing footage.
On the TV, grainy zoomed in footage plays of Leslie Jones snapping Chiklis’s neck. The footage cuts as soon as the neck is snapped.
Reporter on TV
Police are urging anyone with any information to please come forward.
Admiral Action smiles as he gets into an elevator and presses the ground floor button. The doors close on the man as he grins almost manically.
-Chorus-
The elevator opens onto crowds of people. Journalists snapping photos and fans trying to get autographs from the man who stopped the Barron. The Admiral smiles, he takes some photos and signs some papers as he moves through the group.
The reporter from the TV news earlier is in the group. Action makes a point to look at her camera and smile directly down it.
CUT TO
A rural farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Leslie Jones, bloodied and dirty sits against the wood. She’s badly wounded, but has made attempts to patch herself up. She’s wearing a handmade cast for a broken arm and has torn some of her trousers to make a covering for a head wound. She breathes heavily before dropping her head into her hand. In front of her is a small campfire that no longer burns.
CUT BACK TO
Action has made his way through the crowd, smiling and waving for the photos before getting into a car driven by Warble Wizard.
The two drive down a busy road. Action adjusts his cuff links again. Making sure the ‘A’s sit the right way up.
A few drops of rain start to hit the car. Action looks out the window at the clouds coming over them.
Admiral Action leans forward and taps on Warble Wizard’s shoulder twice.
The car pulls over and Action gets out with a white umbrella in hand.
He starts to walk down the street. The rain now falling heavily around him. He reaches a hand out to let the water touch his hand. He watches it roll off his skin and smiles.
He takes another couple of steps and is stopped by someone pulling on his jacket.
He turns to see a small child stood behind him. The child gestures up with a pad of paper. On the paper shes stuck a flyer for the AWF match down on it. Action smiles and gets down on his knees. He signs the paper then notices the child has some rain on her face.
Like a caring parent he reaches out and rubs the water off with his thumb.
-Chorus-
CUT TO
A large sunny conservatory. A nurse with a napkin wipes some drool of the face of a man in a wheelchair, Kolotov. He’s little more than skin and bones. The fallout from the drug has left little of the man behind. He stares vacantly out of the glass. He doesn’t respond as the drool is wiped away and the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. Two nurses lift him up and lie him down in a bed. He remains totally non responsive.
CUT BACK TO
Action smiles and stands. He turns to see a large poster for Barron Boneius being hurriedly taken down. The men taking it down notice him. Admiral Action shoots them a thumbs up.
The men look back shocked.
CUT TO
A high security prison. A group of prisons watch on in shock as six heavily armed men escort The Barron, in an orange prison jumpsuit towards a small dark metal room. The Barron looks at none of them. The men gesture him into the room, the only light in the room coming from a window at the top, no bigger than a wrist. The Barron still wears a pair of heavy metal ridged conjoined cuffs. The Barron enters the room and the door is slammed closed behind him.
His red eyes remain visible through a small viewing slot. The men spin and click several locks into place before one slams the viewing hole closed.
CUT BACK TO
Action stands outside the AWF hotel. The rain now pours down around him heavily. Once more he checks his cuffs.
He puts the umbrella away, allowing his clothes to get wet for a long moment before walking up to the door. He hurls the umbrella off into some bushes at the side, out of sight.
Entering the hotel the receptionist immediately recognises him. She stares in awe as he walks up, he runs his hands through his hair to get some of the water out.
Admiral Action
Hi, Admiral Action
He smiles towards her and leans on the desk.
Admiral Action
Can I come in, just wanted to check up on everyone, makes sure they’re all ok.
The receptionist nods.
Admiral Action
Thank you.
He heads into the hotel to formally make his entrance.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
INT. BUDAPEST TRAIN STATION
Fringe, Panda and Ziggy are sat in the very quiet train station. Fringe is obsessively scribbling away, every few seconds glancing up to a nearby postbox.
Fringe
(Mumbling to self)
From your mate Fringe.
Fringe takes a second to look at the thing in his hand, it's a postcard.
Fringe
Okay, I'm done, Panda have you got that stamp.
Panda
Here you go mate.
Fringe excitedly slaps his stamp on.
Fringe skips over to the postbox and tosses the postcard into it.
Tannoy Voiceover
The next train towards Vienna, Austria is arriving at platform 7.
Ziggy
That's us!
Ziggy jumps to his feet, the three friends smile and march to their platform.
INT. TRAIN
The lads are sat at a table when all the storm hits.
Tannoy Voiceover
Apologies, we will have to stop the train due to adverse weather conditions, call any loved ones, you're going to be on here at least 24 hours.
Ziggy
Oh for fucks sake, I booked our hotel, 100 quid I'm never gonna see again, stupid fucking rain, bet it isn't even that bad.
At that precise moment Ziggy stares out of the window to a thunderstorm akin to the arrival of Thor in most Thor films.
Panda
Get comfy lads.
Fringe
Big crazy storm, being trapped on a train with your best buds, Spud and Snively would love this.
Fringe cuddles up to Ziggy and Panda.
Ziggy
Literally nobody would love this.
Fringe
Oh yeah?
Ziggy
yeah.
Fringe smiles and reaches into his pockets pulling out a bag a weed that could no way on earth have fit in his pocket, he must have a pocket universe in that shit, it's like the Tardis.
Ziggy's eyes light up as Fringe also produces a makeshift bong made from a Mrs Potts teapot.
Panda and Ziggy fall into Fringes embrace, sharing a loving familial cuddle as Fringe loads up the bong.
Ziggy
Yeah I guess this could be worse.
Fringe
Yeah at least we're not trapped in some rundown hotel with that prick Stone Cold Steve Austin.
Panda
What an oddly specific thing to say.
Fringe passes Panda the Mrs Potts bong.
Fringe
Shhhhhh, you gotta smoke up if you wanna grow up to be big and strong dude.
Panda takes a hit from the bong.
Then Ziggy.
Then Fringe who extra extra loads his own hit.
The trio chill just chill, warm and safe, happily watching the unbelievable storm outside, in awe, it's like watching an environmental care documentary.
FADE OUT
As that piece hits a minute five seconds in, the PrimeTime logo animates to life in the forefront of all the ensuing action before flashing into the Max-Schmeling-Halle, Germany selling out the delayed second show of the European Leg of AWF’s Western World Tour. Greeted by a wonderful pyrotechnics display, the cameras continue cutting and crossing between views of the venue, until a gentle cross-dissolve puts us in front of the ringside commentary booth, where Jim Ross and Christian Cage sit.
Jim Ross: Welcome to Alberta Wrestling Federation’s Tuesday Night PrimeTime! We’re in Europe on our Western World Tour, and it’s a night promised to be full of action! I’m Good Ol’ JR, with multi-time wrestling world champion Christian Cage, and by god it’s All About Austin!
Christian rolls his eyes, but doesn’t let his annoyance come through his speech.
Christian Cage: It’s another night of high stakes, as not only will we kick the show off in a minute with the contract signing for next week’s World’s Championship showdown between Priscilla Kelly and Big Homunculus, but we’ve got a champion versus champion clash, a one-night tournament to decide the number one contender for the Provincial Championship, and the World Tag Team titles are on the line!
Jim Ross: But now is what matters! Because now it’s time for Austin! By god it’s time for Stone Cold!
The show crosses to just the ring from a wide shot via the hard camera. Inside the ring, similarly like AWF's only other contract signing from PrimeTime III, the apron has been covered by a lush black rug and a thin, dark teak wood office table is sat in the middle. Three microphones and a clipboard with a stack of papers are the only other things, all on the table.
Germany's crowd is one of the loudest AWF has yet had, as proven well with the volume of the boos that pour in at the sound of the Co-Commissioner's music, doubled when he pushes the curtain out of his way and stomps out into the arena, Batista accompanying him just behind. Stone Cold's pace down the ramp is much more hasty than Batista's deliberate stroll in his violetly velvet blazer.
Mark Beverly: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, being accompanied to the ring by the self-proclaimed 'Hollywood Hunk' Dave Batista, the Co-Commissioner of the Alberta Wrestling Federation: STONE COLD! STEVE! AUSTIN!
Front row fans disparage both men, Austin marching right by them as Batista offers disdainful looks through his Aviators. Stone Cold circles the ring while Batista walks up the steel steps at first visit, the Commissioner joining him only after forcing all of the front row fans of Berlin have seen him.
Inside the ring, Batista keeps to a corner like a bouncer as Commissioner Austin takes up the microphone and the clipboard in his hands.
Commissioner Austin
Let's cut the horseshit, 'cause I got beer to drink, and there's a whole lotta ass to be kicked tonight. Y'see, Stone Cold wants to see these papers signed, and I want 'em signed real fast, because Stone Cold's got a prediction.
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
What I said was: I gotta prediction!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
In fact Stone Cold's gotta couple predictions!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
Prediction numero uno!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
Big Homunculus is your next Alberta Wrestling Federation World's Champion.
Half the crowd continue with a 'WHAT?!' while the other only claps and cheers in agreement.
Commissioner Austin
Prediction two!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
He's being wasted!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
He's ain't with the right folks!
Crowd: WHAT?!
Commissioner Austin
3BN don't give a damn about Big Homunculus!
Most of Berlin boos Austin out of the building.
Commissioner Austin
But Austin gives a damn about Big Homunculus!
Everyone is booing at this point, not liking where this is going. Austin looks right into the hard camera with a finger point.
Commissioner Austin
So before I call you out here, Big Homunculus, Stone Cold needs you listen to the man who cares about you! Listen to Austin! Trust me Homunculus.
He points to himself while the crowd chants 'D-T-A'.
Commissioner Austin
I get it.
A sadistic smirk and a feverish nod. Then a point to the stage.
Commissioner Austin
The challenger, Big Homunculus!
Big Homunculus, steely eyed and focussed walks towards the stage, intense gaze bolted onto Austin's dome. It is clear that Homunculus has put on at least twenty pounds in muscle since his Elimination Chamber appearance. He slides into the ring as if he's not even a dwarf and marches straight up to the commissioner until Austin is staring up into Homunculus' flared nostrils.
Big Homunculus
You! I have been wanting to speak to you, however I have also been busy trying to speak to this Raging Dead fellow everybody seems to be so interested in. I cannot find him anywhere and Ruxx keeps yelling at me. Anyway-
Commissioner Austin
Well I done told you what a sorry-
Big Homunculus
I do not get interrupted by balds. Silence.
Austin falls silent of confusion more than anything.
Big Homunculus
I can see what a dastardly game you are playing. You and your fat movie star and other man I do not recognise, you think you are not obvious? I know what you have done. Do not worry. I will not hurt your Nickleback-looking friends. I do not want to damage them so they can blame injury and avoid justice at the hands of my brothers.
Homunculus leans in close to Austin.
Big Homunculus
(Whispers)
I know about the San Pellegrino.
Commissioner Austin
(sincere)
WHAT!?
Homunculus looks at Batista.
Big Homunculus
More things have blood in them than oranges.
Austin looks at his crony in confusion.
Commissioner Austin
What the hell have you sorry knuckleheads...
Batista shrugs in confusion.
Big Homunculus
This is not the only bald man I want to speak to. Bring me the selfish sadist they call Prince Albert. Bring him to me!
As Priscilla's theme hits, the usual boos meet her in response, though they are ever so slightly less this time, and a few crowd members look quite confused on how to react to the young Harlot. This sentiment is doubled as Priscilla walks out onto the stage, dressed in just just a casual leather jacket and denim booty shorts, and her Championship Belt around her waist, not exactly looking ready for a fight. As her entourage surrounds her, made up of Cranston, Raz, and Gabe, Priscilla looks down the ramp to the ring, right at her soon to be opponent Big Homunculus.
And a hint of fear shows in her face.
Priscilla looks from Homunculus over to Austin, who upon seeing the nervous Priscilla, has seen a rather wide smile emerge onto his face. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Priscilla hides her fear, stands up straight, and turns her glare back to Homunculus, this time trying with all her might to look more confident.
Behind her, through the curtain, moves over the hulking Prince Albert, shoving through the group and making his way to Priscilla's side. He himself glares at Homunculus, but there's no fear on Albert's face, only hatred. Pure, seething hatred.
Without Priscilla giving the order, Albert starts to move down to the ring, clearly annoying his Mistress slightly. Priscilla sucks it up quickly, and decides to follow, her entourage staying close.
As Priscilla starts to move over to the steel steps, Prince Albert is already in the ring, storming over to Homunculus and getting into his face. There's a size difference, but Albert's clear fury overshadows those 5 inches, as the pair look daggers into each other's eyes with their fire filled pupils.
Priscilla Kelly
Doggy!
Albert turns slowly, to see Priscilla and her men have made it into the ring, and she looks over at her Prince in the way someone would a misbehaving pet. Albert turns his head to give Homunculus one last look, before moving over to Priscilla's side.
With much effort, after scoping out her immediate surroundings, Priscilla puts on a smile as she raises a microphone to her mouth, sending a snide look at Bautista.
Priscilla Kelly
Ditch the Aviators Dave. You don't quite suit 'em like most do.
Batista snarls, shaking his head, although clearly becomes a little paranoid about just how well his choice of shades fit his face. Priscilla moves her gaze to Austin.
Priscilla Kelly
Every time I see you Commish, you are breaking your own record of just how pathetic a display you can put on. If you're gonna be a piece of shit in this place, do it with some finesse, some mastery… I can give you a few lessons if you like? I'm just sick of watching you stomp around, slather drooling from your mouth, with all the intimidating aura of the especially big kid in kindergarten.
Priscilla moves closer to Steve.
Priscilla Kelly
Your approach is different, I'll give you that, but if you keep getting in my way, I'll do to you what I did to Ironside. And to Sydal. And to every other mother fucker who got in my way, got that Rattlesnake? You may have the power on paper, but if you keep crossing my path, the next piece of paper we see with your name on it will be your fucking death certificate.
Austin continues to smile in her face, which broadens Priscilla's. Two fake smiles, hiding pure resentment.
Priscilla Kelly
If we're putting this hierarchy into perspective, consider me the Hans Gruber. Consider you… Ellis. That coke-head guy who gets shot in the head like a fucking dumbass halfway through the movie?
Gabe
Can I be Karl?
Priscilla Kelly
What? No. Of all the people here you are definitely not the Karl, Gabe.
Raz
Who's Karl again?
Gabe
That big main henchman dude.
Raz
Oh well, that's- that'd be me right?
Priscilla Kelly
What!? No! You're like the two guys who get blown up by that computer bomb thing!
Raz and Gabe nod at this slowly.
Raz
I'll take it.
Priscilla shakes her head, irritated at the pair, before turning back to Steve. Her eyes move from the Commissioner, over to Big Homunculus.
Priscilla Kelly
And you. You're not John McClane. In this story, there is no John McClane.
Priscilla slowly moves over to the table in the middle of the ring.
Priscilla Kelly
This story ends, just how Die Hard should've ended.
Priscilla grabs the pen, and signs the contract.
Priscilla Kelly
Hans wins.
With that, Priscilla drops the pen, and moves away from the table, back into the safety of her entourage.
Priscilla looks at Homunculus expectantly, then at the contract. Homunculus furrows his brow and looks at it.
Commissioner Austin
Come on now, make your mark.
Big Homunculus
Make your maaaark…
H walks over to the contract and stares at it.
Big Homunculus
Con-tract.
He looks at Austin, quizzically.
Commissioner Austin
Make your mark, son. Stake your claim, write your chicken scratch, give us your John Hancock, mark your territory, take what's yours dammit!
Homunculus looks confident now.
Big Homunculus
Before I do this, I must reiterate what I said when I first joined this down to earth little federation: MY PHALLUSS IS NOT LARGE. Do not listen to the trolls. They have spread rumours that I have an enormous penis, when in fact it only looks enormous in comparison to my dwarven frame. So while my penis may be large compared to my body, compare it to a normal person's body and you will find that my genitalia are, at best, of average size for an adult human. Now you have no write to be surprised, or to say hurtful things like "Hey look at that average penis-having man!"
A general din emerges from the audience and present participants that can basically be interpreted as, "urm...ok?" before Big Homunculus abruptly drops his pants to reveal his Big Cockulus, which is indeed large when compared to his 6'10 frame - he sort of wasn't lying - and pisses all over the contract. His piss is dark, almost black, and sparkling. Roughly two gallons.
Batista lowers his aviators in astonishment.
Batista
It's....it's pure pepsi…
Homunculus pulls up his pants with the look of a man who interpreted the situation correctly, acted accordingly, and knows it.
Priscilla Kelly
Well, I'm definitely glad I signed that contract first. I mean, I'm no stranger to piss… but I am a stranger to watching pepsi shoot out of a guy's dick.
Priscilla looks even more unsettled at the sight of Homunculus than she already was. Albert, who has been attempting to stand stoically by Priscilla loses his self control and marches across the ring, knocking the table asunder and splashing through the piss-pepsi.
Prince Albert
What was that!? You trying to mock her!? Are you disrespecting her!?
Big Homunculus
I was waiting to ask you the exact same thing.
Albert stops in his tracks.
Big Homunculus
Ok I wasn't going to call you disgusting. Your stocky, stump-like build is obviously very attractive and I am not a liar.
Prince Albert does not know what to be more taken aback by out of having his respect for Priscilla questioned or that Homunculus finds him "very attractive", and flounders for words.
Big Homunculus
This poor woman may not be quite so picturesque to look at compared to you, but she must learn to love herself. Even an ugly flower should blossom as best it can, but for as long as you try and influence proceedings in her favour, you cast this flower in a shadow, and in shadows she cannot grow. She was willing to carve herself up to be considered attractive to me, and while she may be long and freakish, she will never get the confidence in herself she so clearly lacks with you holding her hand and over shadowing her accomplishments. It is no wonder she goes so far out of her way to be liked by all. Losing a fair fight will show her she doesn't need to live under your thumb, you sadistic, control freak
Prince Albert briefly short circuits trying to follow train of thought described to him...
He shakes his head free of the mental chaos that tends to be sparked in even the calmest of brains after a short interaction with Big Homunculus.
Prince Albert
The- what..the ...fucking....FUCK THIS
Albert charges Homunculus with a Bicycle Kick but he's angrily telegraphed his shot. Homunculus side steps, lands a not-so-hurtful jab and looks to set up something heavier, but Kelly releases her hounds, screaming at them to help. The rest of her backup charge through the pond of pepsi piss to intervene before Albert can come to harm, as Priscilla rolls out of the ring.
Homunculus lands a few digs, but starts to get overwhelmed by sheer numbers and starts taking a brutal stomping. Austin and Batista share a smile with one another at the descent into action, before they slowly start to amble out of the ring.
Priscilla opts not to join in the ambush, and instead moves around the edge of the ring with an expression of curiosity, to get a good close view of Homunculus getting stomped into the ground from all angles. He's curled in the fetal position just under the corner rope, the ring post protecting his head, and she can only see the top of his dome. She considers whether or not she should try to take a cheap shot whilst she's in such an advantageous position but the notion leaves her head as Homunculus rolls his head back to peak out at her from under the rope and look at her. He smiles a bloody smile and coughs some blood out.
Big Homunculus
Sweet, shrinking violet, you are good enough! Don't let these bastards who are currently rearranging my organs tell you differently! You have something I want, and I have something you want! The-
The music hits just as Homunculus is silenced by a particularly gut wrenching kick. Priscilla looks up at the stage, to see Black Clyde and Ruxx Rampede charging out, and screams at her henchmen to do something. Raz, Gabe, and Cranston are charging out of the ring quickly, running straight for the other two members of 3BN!
Raz's head snaps backwards as Black Clyde clatters him with a huge Big Boot! Whilst Gabe is knocked flying over the barricade with a massive Rampede Stampede!!! As Ruxx follows up by sending clubbing blows at Cranston's head, Black Clyde charges right for the ring…
He's onto the apron…
BICYCLE KICK!!!
Clyde topples off of the apron to the floor, as Albert stands at the ropes, looking down at the now unconscious bodybuilder.
Ruxx sends Cranston flying into the steel steps, before he leaps up onto the apron impressively, and sends an elbow right into Albert's face! The Prince stumbles backwards, as Ruxx climbs through the ropes and moves at Albert…
The Prince goes for a clothesline… but it's ducked! Ruxx bounds off the ropes…
BUT AUSTIN GRABS AT HIS LEG!!!
It sends Ruxx stumbling forwards into the ring… right into a BICYCLE KICK!!! He slams down hard into the pepsi piss, before the Binman rolls out of the ring! Batista turns to Austin confused.
Batista
Wait who's side are we on here?
Commissioner Austin
I don't really know that was sorta' an impulse thing there.
Albert watches as Ruxx rolls to the concrete outside, before he turns back to finish off Homunculus…
But the Pygmian is up! His hand is around Albert's throat… he's got him set up!
DWARVEN CHOKESLAM!!!
NO!!! PRISCILLA WHACKS HOMUNCULUS ON THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH HER CHAMPIONSHIP BELT!!! The Giant Dwarf collapses into the middle of the ring, as Priscilla grabs a hold of Albert and yanks him with her as she climbs back out of the ring in the direction of the ramp.
Homunculus has already regained his senses, watching Priscilla as she moves backwards with Albert, holding him back as he looks eager to jump back into the ring and continue his fight with Homunculus. She tugs at the collar around his neck, shouting orders at him.
Priscilla Kelly
Doggy! NO! Now's not the time!
And her eyes meet with the fiery eyes of Homunculus, and Priscilla gulps. She gives one last tug at Albert's neck, before turning him to walk with her up the ramp.
Priscilla Kelly
Come on!
And Albert reluctantly follows her, his eyes darting between Priscilla as she storms off, and Homunculus who remains stoic and passionate in the ring.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
ALBERTA WRESTLING FEDERATION PRESENTS
THE TELLY
Priscilla looks at Homunculus expectantly, then at the contract. Homunculus furrows his brow and looks at it.
Commissioner Austin
Come on now, make your mark.
Big Homunculus
Make your maaaark…
H walks over to the contract and stares at it.
Big Homunculus
Con-tract.
He looks at Austin, quizzically.
Commissioner Austin
Make your mark, son. Stake your claim, write your chicken scratch, give us your John Hancock, mark your territory, take what's yours dammit!
Homunculus looks confident now.
Big Homunculus
Before I do this, I must reiterate what I said when I first joined this down to earth little federation: MY PHALLUSS IS NOT LARGE. Do not listen to the trolls. They have spread rumours that I have an enormous penis, when in fact it only looks enormous in comparison to my dwarven frame. So while my penis may be large compared to my body, compare it to a normal person's body and you will find that my genitalia are, at best, of average size for an adult human. Now you have no write to be surprised, or to say hurtful things like "Hey look at that average penis-having man!"
A general din emerges from the audience and present participants that can basically be interpreted as, "urm...ok?" before Big Homunculus abruptly drops his pants to reveal his Big Cockulus, which is indeed large when compared to his 6'10 frame - he sort of wasn't lying - and pisses all over the contract. His piss is dark, almost black, and sparkling. Roughly two gallons.
Batista lowers his aviators in astonishment.
Batista
It's....it's pure pepsi…
Homunculus pulls up his pants with the look of a man who interpreted the situation correctly, acted accordingly, and knows it.
Priscilla Kelly
Well, I'm definitely glad I signed that contract first. I mean, I'm no stranger to piss… but I am a stranger to watching pepsi shoot out of a guy's dick.
Priscilla looks even more unsettled at the sight of Homunculus than she already was. Albert, who has been attempting to stand stoically by Priscilla loses his self control and marches across the ring, knocking the table asunder and splashing through the piss-pepsi.
Prince Albert
What was that!? You trying to mock her!? Are you disrespecting her!?
Big Homunculus
I was waiting to ask you the exact same thing.
Albert stops in his tracks.
Big Homunculus
Ok I wasn't going to call you disgusting. Your stocky, stump-like build is obviously very attractive and I am not a liar.
Prince Albert does not know what to be more taken aback by out of having his respect for Priscilla questioned or that Homunculus finds him "very attractive", and flounders for words.
Big Homunculus
This poor woman may not be quite so picturesque to look at compared to you, but she must learn to love herself. Even an ugly flower should blossom as best it can, but for as long as you try and influence proceedings in her favour, you cast this flower in a shadow, and in shadows she cannot grow. She was willing to carve herself up to be considered attractive to me, and while she may be long and freakish, she will never get the confidence in herself she so clearly lacks with you holding her hand and over shadowing her accomplishments. It is no wonder she goes so far out of her way to be liked by all. Losing a fair fight will show her she doesn't need to live under your thumb, you sadistic, control freak
Prince Albert briefly short circuits trying to follow train of thought described to him...
He shakes his head free of the mental chaos that tends to be sparked in even the calmest of brains after a short interaction with Big Homunculus.
Prince Albert
The- what..the ...fucking....FUCK THIS
Albert charges Homunculus with a Bicycle Kick but he's angrily telegraphed his shot. Homunculus side steps, lands a not-so-hurtful jab and looks to set up something heavier, but Kelly releases her hounds, screaming at them to help. The rest of her backup charge through the pond of pepsi piss to intervene before Albert can come to harm, as Priscilla rolls out of the ring.
Homunculus lands a few digs, but starts to get overwhelmed by sheer numbers and starts taking a brutal stomping. Austin and Batista share a smile with one another at the descent into action, before they slowly start to amble out of the ring.
Priscilla opts not to join in the ambush, and instead moves around the edge of the ring with an expression of curiosity, to get a good close view of Homunculus getting stomped into the ground from all angles. He's curled in the fetal position just under the corner rope, the ring post protecting his head, and she can only see the top of his dome. She considers whether or not she should try to take a cheap shot whilst she's in such an advantageous position but the notion leaves her head as Homunculus rolls his head back to peak out at her from under the rope and look at her. He smiles a bloody smile and coughs some blood out.
Big Homunculus
Sweet, shrinking violet, you are good enough! Don't let these bastards who are currently rearranging my organs tell you differently! You have something I want, and I have something you want! The-
The music hits just as Homunculus is silenced by a particularly gut wrenching kick. Priscilla looks up at the stage, to see Black Clyde and Ruxx Rampede charging out, and screams at her henchmen to do something. Raz, Gabe, and Cranston are charging out of the ring quickly, running straight for the other two members of 3BN!
Raz's head snaps backwards as Black Clyde clatters him with a huge Big Boot! Whilst Gabe is knocked flying over the barricade with a massive Rampede Stampede!!! As Ruxx follows up by sending clubbing blows at Cranston's head, Black Clyde charges right for the ring…
He's onto the apron…
BICYCLE KICK!!!
Clyde topples off of the apron to the floor, as Albert stands at the ropes, looking down at the now unconscious bodybuilder.
Ruxx sends Cranston flying into the steel steps, before he leaps up onto the apron impressively, and sends an elbow right into Albert's face! The Prince stumbles backwards, as Ruxx climbs through the ropes and moves at Albert…
The Prince goes for a clothesline… but it's ducked! Ruxx bounds off the ropes…
BUT AUSTIN GRABS AT HIS LEG!!!
It sends Ruxx stumbling forwards into the ring… right into a BICYCLE KICK!!! He slams down hard into the pepsi piss, before the Binman rolls out of the ring! Batista turns to Austin confused.
Batista
Wait who's side are we on here?
Commissioner Austin
I don't really know that was sorta' an impulse thing there.
Albert watches as Ruxx rolls to the concrete outside, before he turns back to finish off Homunculus…
But the Pygmian is up! His hand is around Albert's throat… he's got him set up!
DWARVEN CHOKESLAM!!!
NO!!! PRISCILLA WHACKS HOMUNCULUS ON THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH HER CHAMPIONSHIP BELT!!! The Giant Dwarf collapses into the middle of the ring, as Priscilla grabs a hold of Albert and yanks him with her as she climbs back out of the ring in the direction of the ramp.
Homunculus has already regained his senses, watching Priscilla as she moves backwards with Albert, holding him back as he looks eager to jump back into the ring and continue his fight with Homunculus. She tugs at the collar around his neck, shouting orders at him.
Priscilla Kelly
Doggy! NO! Now's not the time!
And her eyes meet with the fiery eyes of Homunculus, and Priscilla gulps. She gives one last tug at Albert's neck, before turning him to walk with her up the ramp.
Priscilla Kelly
Come on!
And Albert reluctantly follows her, his eyes darting between Priscilla as she storms off, and Homunculus who remains stoic and passionate in the ring.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
ALBERTA WRESTLING FEDERATION PRESENTS
THE TELLY
The sounds of rain come before the shot.
Loud are the drops as we fade in slowly to watch how they fall: endlessly in havoc, carried by the wind where their grouping is not too strong to be swayed.
It is a freeway in the middle of Europe -- in Hungary, for particulars. We see it from the side, as if we were stalkers from the woods, both routes of the highway seen.
Empty.
Nothing but the paved roads of man,
And the undeniable, undefiable cries of god.
Then the streak.
A fast black *WHIP* through the downpour.
In sight and out, just like that.
Thunder, now. And the freeway struck down where the car drove past with lightning.
CROSS DISSOLVE
The tire of a black vehicle turns right onto a dirt road. This is the only available shot up until it reaches a fork in the road.
Panning from the tire, the camera urges towards the right side of the fork before craning upwards.
There it is: a twelve-story hotel that has seen better days, with balconies of apparent disarray attached to nearly each of its windows. Through the pouring not much else can be made out, but that does not stop the roof of the black car from being seen in the corner of the screen, driving past and down that side of the fork.
CROSS DISSOLVE TO INSIDE THE HOTEL
A powwow of Alberta Wrestling Federation stars in the lobby of this decrepit hotel, everyone from World’s Champion Priscilla Kelly to Provincial Champion Rockstar Spud has made a presence here in some way. The lighting here is as dismal as the 1890s carpeting, the sixty year old fixtures and decorations, and the general state of the mood in the room.
Center of it all is one man: Paul “Triple H” Levesque in a slate grey suit with his cyan blue tie for an accent, the lead producer for AWF. Only one movement of the arms and call for attention is enough, and all in attendance turn to listen to the man’s announcement.
Just as he’s about to begin, a teenaged bellhop mindlessly cuts between the group to get wherever he needs to, nearly pushing back Triple H in the process. Levesque chooses professionalism in his reaction, only offering a face of displeasure but remaining silent as the asshat continues on.
Triple H
Alright, listen ups folks, listen well. I know you don’t wanna be here, I don’t wanna be here either, but let's look at the facts: we don’t have much of a choice. This storm is going nowhere fast, not a single airport on the continent is running, and there’s not a bus company in this country that’s going that far in these conditions. Worst part is, this is the best place we could afford to put you all.
Rumblings return but Triple H re-commands the attention.
Triple H
Bret wants us all at our best. Let’s not disappoint him. Let’s not disappoint me. These people are nice enough to have by far the least mentally efficient professional wrestling roster taking up all their rooms in the middle of a continent-wide hurricane from Hell. You’re all about good to go, but there’s one more thing we need to tell you all.
Triple H bites down on his own teeth, his hands begin to scramble. Decides it’s better to take it like a Bandaid.
Triple H
Nathan “Raging Dead” Gust is dead.
First silence. Then rumblings.
Triple H
Usually there’s something special about these things, with the big gimmick matches and the super stipulations. I know, I’ve been there. But…
He bites his lip, scratches his palm. Looking around the sea of faces surrounding him, Triple H realizes then and there he’s supposed to be the guide for this situation, where he doesn’t know how to be.
Triple H
We’ll remember him for his best moments. For how he helped get this place off this ground. How he made everyone he stepped into the ring with a better wrestler. We’ll remember and welcome his wife, his family.
Fighting back, internally.
Triple H
Rest in peace, Nate.
With that, Triple H takes his leave with Joey Styles (aka Tazz) following behind, the rest left in the eerie air of the tribute.
A shellshocked Rockstar Spud, hurries to the bar, in this moment he truly understands the importance of Raging Dead to his career, in a flash he begins to think about others who had a hand in moulding the man he is now, for the better and the worse.
In a flash we see silhouettes:
Spud rubs his eyes and plants himself on a bar stool, sweat pouring from his head, gasping for air or some kind of reprieve. The full bar of patrons takes no notice of Spud.
A tall male barman approaches.
Spud scans the room, it’s completely empty, not a patron in sight, where did they all go at once?
Heeled steps walk down towards Spud, it’s the figure.
Loud are the drops as we fade in slowly to watch how they fall: endlessly in havoc, carried by the wind where their grouping is not too strong to be swayed.
It is a freeway in the middle of Europe -- in Hungary, for particulars. We see it from the side, as if we were stalkers from the woods, both routes of the highway seen.
Empty.
Nothing but the paved roads of man,
And the undeniable, undefiable cries of god.
Then the streak.
A fast black *WHIP* through the downpour.
In sight and out, just like that.
Thunder, now. And the freeway struck down where the car drove past with lightning.
CROSS DISSOLVE
The tire of a black vehicle turns right onto a dirt road. This is the only available shot up until it reaches a fork in the road.
Panning from the tire, the camera urges towards the right side of the fork before craning upwards.
There it is: a twelve-story hotel that has seen better days, with balconies of apparent disarray attached to nearly each of its windows. Through the pouring not much else can be made out, but that does not stop the roof of the black car from being seen in the corner of the screen, driving past and down that side of the fork.
CROSS DISSOLVE TO INSIDE THE HOTEL
A powwow of Alberta Wrestling Federation stars in the lobby of this decrepit hotel, everyone from World’s Champion Priscilla Kelly to Provincial Champion Rockstar Spud has made a presence here in some way. The lighting here is as dismal as the 1890s carpeting, the sixty year old fixtures and decorations, and the general state of the mood in the room.
Center of it all is one man: Paul “Triple H” Levesque in a slate grey suit with his cyan blue tie for an accent, the lead producer for AWF. Only one movement of the arms and call for attention is enough, and all in attendance turn to listen to the man’s announcement.
Just as he’s about to begin, a teenaged bellhop mindlessly cuts between the group to get wherever he needs to, nearly pushing back Triple H in the process. Levesque chooses professionalism in his reaction, only offering a face of displeasure but remaining silent as the asshat continues on.
Triple H
Alright, listen ups folks, listen well. I know you don’t wanna be here, I don’t wanna be here either, but let's look at the facts: we don’t have much of a choice. This storm is going nowhere fast, not a single airport on the continent is running, and there’s not a bus company in this country that’s going that far in these conditions. Worst part is, this is the best place we could afford to put you all.
Rumblings return but Triple H re-commands the attention.
Triple H
Bret wants us all at our best. Let’s not disappoint him. Let’s not disappoint me. These people are nice enough to have by far the least mentally efficient professional wrestling roster taking up all their rooms in the middle of a continent-wide hurricane from Hell. You’re all about good to go, but there’s one more thing we need to tell you all.
Triple H bites down on his own teeth, his hands begin to scramble. Decides it’s better to take it like a Bandaid.
Triple H
Nathan “Raging Dead” Gust is dead.
First silence. Then rumblings.
Triple H
Usually there’s something special about these things, with the big gimmick matches and the super stipulations. I know, I’ve been there. But…
He bites his lip, scratches his palm. Looking around the sea of faces surrounding him, Triple H realizes then and there he’s supposed to be the guide for this situation, where he doesn’t know how to be.
Triple H
We’ll remember him for his best moments. For how he helped get this place off this ground. How he made everyone he stepped into the ring with a better wrestler. We’ll remember and welcome his wife, his family.
Fighting back, internally.
Triple H
Rest in peace, Nate.
With that, Triple H takes his leave with Joey Styles (aka Tazz) following behind, the rest left in the eerie air of the tribute.
A shellshocked Rockstar Spud, hurries to the bar, in this moment he truly understands the importance of Raging Dead to his career, in a flash he begins to think about others who had a hand in moulding the man he is now, for the better and the worse.
In a flash we see silhouettes:
- The first of a large man with perfect hair and perfect muscular definition.
- The second is a female figure with rogue style hair parting appearing white against the blackness of the shadowed figured.
- The third is a wolf.
- The fourth is a dark unfeeling cowboy.
Spud rubs his eyes and plants himself on a bar stool, sweat pouring from his head, gasping for air or some kind of reprieve. The full bar of patrons takes no notice of Spud.
A tall male barman approaches.
BARMAN
What’ll it be?
Before he can answer Laci Valentine grabs Spud from behind by the shoulder and hugs him.
Before he can answer Laci Valentine grabs Spud from behind by the shoulder and hugs him.
Barman
I’ll come back.
The barman walks away.
Laci
The barman walks away.
Laci
James, are you okay, what do you want to do?
Spud looks into the back-bar mirror at himself and Laci, concern painting her face and unease painting his. He stares at this, not knowing what to say or do. This isn’t the first loss Spud has had but it doesn’t make it any easier.
So, he just silently looks.
Laci Valentine
Spud looks into the back-bar mirror at himself and Laci, concern painting her face and unease painting his. He stares at this, not knowing what to say or do. This isn’t the first loss Spud has had but it doesn’t make it any easier.
So, he just silently looks.
Laci Valentine
We can stay here all night, you don’t need to say a word, I’m here.
But that was the problem, Spud knows the dark places lesser things have taken him to, he needs to get a handle on this now.
Spud turns to Laci.
But that was the problem, Spud knows the dark places lesser things have taken him to, he needs to get a handle on this now.
Spud turns to Laci.
Spud
I just need some time on my own tonight, if that’s okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.
Laci Valentine
Okay, call whenever, I’ll pick up, James I am here for you.
Spud stares back into the mirror, Laci kisses him on the cheek.
Laci slowly and reluctantly leaves the bar, eyes never leaving Spud.
Spud stares at himself in the mirror, wondering how a guy like him gets to be in such a privileged position and a legend like Raging Dead can just fade away, it’s not fair, even when the odds are in his favour the world is seemingly against him.
Spud thinks about why his boss seems to be harbouring such a grudge for him, he brings eyes to the product, he makes the company money, why does Austin hate him so.
Is it the same reason he was told countless times to find a new career, is it the same reason his father doesn’t want anything to do with him, is he really a stain on his home, his industry, his company, his championship belt, his family, his friends.
Spud feels faint, eyes never losing sight of his visage in the mirror but vision blurring slightly.
Until, Spud’s view of himself is blocked by a figure, though it’s unclear of size or major defining feature, it’s almost certainly a woman.
The figure slides two whiskeys in front of Spud, neat, and hurries away.
Spud stares back into the mirror, Laci kisses him on the cheek.
Laci slowly and reluctantly leaves the bar, eyes never leaving Spud.
Spud stares at himself in the mirror, wondering how a guy like him gets to be in such a privileged position and a legend like Raging Dead can just fade away, it’s not fair, even when the odds are in his favour the world is seemingly against him.
Spud thinks about why his boss seems to be harbouring such a grudge for him, he brings eyes to the product, he makes the company money, why does Austin hate him so.
Is it the same reason he was told countless times to find a new career, is it the same reason his father doesn’t want anything to do with him, is he really a stain on his home, his industry, his company, his championship belt, his family, his friends.
Spud feels faint, eyes never losing sight of his visage in the mirror but vision blurring slightly.
Until, Spud’s view of himself is blocked by a figure, though it’s unclear of size or major defining feature, it’s almost certainly a woman.
The figure slides two whiskeys in front of Spud, neat, and hurries away.
Spud
I didn’t order these.
Figure
They were sent by a friend.
Spud looks around the bustling bar for a friend, concerned co-worker, anyone he knew at all, but all the faces were unfamiliar.
Maybe a shy fan? Maybe?
Spud raises one glass and toasts essentially himself in the mirror.
Spud looks around the bustling bar for a friend, concerned co-worker, anyone he knew at all, but all the faces were unfamiliar.
Maybe a shy fan? Maybe?
Spud raises one glass and toasts essentially himself in the mirror.
Spud
To Raging Dead, I guess.
Spud breathes.
Then knocks back the whiskey.
Spud looks over to do the same to the other one, but it’s disappeared.
Spud breathes.
Then knocks back the whiskey.
Spud looks over to do the same to the other one, but it’s disappeared.
Spud
Hey, somebody stole my drink.
Figure
Who did James?
Spud scans the room, it’s completely empty, not a patron in sight, where did they all go at once?
Heeled steps walk down towards Spud, it’s the figure.
Figure
It’s just you and me here James. Another?
Spud
Yeah.
The figure again pours 2 neat whiskeys, places one in front of Spud and the other just to the left of him.
Spud for a second puzzlingly looks at the other drink.
Then turns to his own and downs it. As he looks over, again, the glass next to him is empty.
Spud then confusedly looks up to the figure, to see a face he recognises, a face he knows intimately, turning his attention to the body, that of which he also knows intimately.
The figure again pours 2 neat whiskeys, places one in front of Spud and the other just to the left of him.
Spud for a second puzzlingly looks at the other drink.
Then turns to his own and downs it. As he looks over, again, the glass next to him is empty.
Spud then confusedly looks up to the figure, to see a face he recognises, a face he knows intimately, turning his attention to the body, that of which he also knows intimately.
Figure
Hello James.
Spud
Charli, what are you doing here?
Charli
Oh, sweet James, I’ve always been here, so have you. You know that, don’t ya babe?
Spud looks down and remorsefully sips at his whiskey, it’s full again, Charli hasn’t moved.
Spud looks down and remorsefully sips at his whiskey, it’s full again, Charli hasn’t moved.
Spud
I guess I have, where’s everyone else?
Spud puts the whiskey down and it’s full the moment he looks back.
Charli/b]
Spud puts the whiskey down and it’s full the moment he looks back.
Charli/b]
They all go away, either you leave, or they do, nobody stays. We had some fun together, though didn’t we?
Spud downs his whiskey.
A flash of Spud in a blood-soaked ring, forehead pouring and sick grin on his face.
Charli steps into shot in front of him, same sick grin on her face.
Charli lifts Spud to his feet and the pair share a passionate, blood-drenched kiss.
As Spud pulls away Charlie bites his lip, keeping him in close, Spud grips her by the belt and aggressively tugs her in, he was hers, she was his.
BACK IN THE BAR
Spud
Spud downs his whiskey.
A flash of Spud in a blood-soaked ring, forehead pouring and sick grin on his face.
Charli steps into shot in front of him, same sick grin on her face.
Charli lifts Spud to his feet and the pair share a passionate, blood-drenched kiss.
As Spud pulls away Charlie bites his lip, keeping him in close, Spud grips her by the belt and aggressively tugs her in, he was hers, she was his.
BACK IN THE BAR
Spud
Not my definition of fun Charli.
CHARLI
(Giggling)
Keep denying yourself James, I’ll be here.
Spud gets up and speedily moves away.
Charli
Spud gets up and speedily moves away.
Charli
(Shouting)
You know where to find me!
Spud takes a right turn, moves about 50 yards, then another right for roughly the same before a final right to the door for the bathroom.
Spud pauses bemused slightly.
He opens the door.
The bathroom is massive, lavish and bluely lit with rows of pristine cubicles facing directly towards the sinks.
Face down on the sink, is a well built, perfectly dressed, blonder than blonde man, SNIFFING away.
Spud moves into the first cubicle, locks the door, trying to ignore the man and just pee in peace.
The man hears Spuds cubicle close.
Spud takes a right turn, moves about 50 yards, then another right for roughly the same before a final right to the door for the bathroom.
Spud pauses bemused slightly.
He opens the door.
The bathroom is massive, lavish and bluely lit with rows of pristine cubicles facing directly towards the sinks.
Face down on the sink, is a well built, perfectly dressed, blonder than blonde man, SNIFFING away.
Spud moves into the first cubicle, locks the door, trying to ignore the man and just pee in peace.
The man hears Spuds cubicle close.
Man
Hey.
SNIFFF
You know who I am lad.
SNIFF
Course you do, everybody knows me. I’m the guy Big Daddy calls Big Daddy.
SNIFF
WOOOOO! I’m the mother fucking Golden Boy, I’m on fucking lunch boxes.
SNIFF
I had a lady in every town.
Spud rolls his eyes as he flushes the toilet.
Man
Heavy load, no such thing when you’re the face of European Wrestling my man.
Spud unlocks the door and opens it to the man whose lower face is caked in cocaine.
Man
Don’t I know you?
Spud continues to ignore and steps up to wash his hands.
Man
Hey, you’re that little freak who wanted to be a wrestler aren’t you.
SNIFF
Spud looks up, none too pleased.
Man
How’d that work out little dude? Not great?
Spud huffs but continues to try to ignore.
Man
Like I said then man, we’re always looking for referees and managers to make the real stars look big, you’d be super great for that. That’s a Tony Golden Guarantee.
Spud’s taken about all he can take.
Spud
Well actually Tony, I fucking made it, I’m in Bret Harts company, I’m a fucking champion, they love me because I’m one of them, not some silly cartoon, caricature of a superhero, and a shit superhero at that, I’m me, I’m a wrestler and I’m a good one, better than you.
Spud stands tall beside Golden but even slouched Tony is the far taller man and completely unfazed by Spud’s outburst.
Tony Golden
SNIFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!
That’s the fucking problem nowadays, little freaks like you. In my day, in the 90’s you’d be a fucking manager or a ref, Harvey Wippleman or some shit. That’s nothing though in the 80’s you’d be wrestling the minis and acting like a fool with Bundy, that sound fun to you freak! 70’s oh oh oh, you’d be one of Pattersons boys and you do not wanna be one of those, kid.
SNIFFFFFF!!!!
With every word Tony Golden seems to grow larger, arms more muscular, hair more perfect, Spud by comparison, looks tiny and insignificant.
Tony Golden
Now every, ugly, ridiculous, little troll like you gets their go around. You think there’s a world of possibility in which your skinny, ugly, boring, useless, upsetting, little ass, gets on a lunch box, transcends wrestling. NAH NADA, NO CHANCE, I’M TONY GOLDEN AND YOU’RE A FUCKING STAIN ON MY INDUSTRY.
SNIFF!!!!!!
Spud cowers as the gigantic Golden looms over him.
Tony Golden
STILL THINK WE’RE THE SAME BOY? I’m a titan, you’re a child. I’m zeus, you’re an ant, I’m Tony bloody Golden, you’re some skinny kid called James and James isn’t a lunch box, you’d fit in a lunch box…..
Tony is interrupted by a loud HOWWWWLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!
For the first time Tony looks somewhat afraid.
Tony quickly shrinks back to his normal size as the sounds of animal sprinting towards the pair rings in.
Spud cowers, covering his face.
FADE TO BLACK MOMENTARILY
Spud uncovers his face.
Standing before him is a majestic and huge wolf. Spud knowingly smiles at the wolf. The wolf bows its head slightly, allowing Spud to stroke it.
Spud hugs the wolf.
Spud
It’s so good to see you.
The wolf looks up as if to agree.
Spud
Tony Golden is a prick…. But you’ve been saying that for years though haven’t you.
The wolf picks up the AWF Provincial Championship in its mouth, it must have fell off while Spud was cowering.
The wolf passes the belt to Spud, who smiles as he receives it.
The wolf runs away.
Spud
No don’t go yet, please, please, I need you.
Spud gets up and chases the wolf out of the bathroom.
The wolf’s gone and Spud’s in the bar, no need for any route taken, just out of the bathroom door back to the start.
Charli’s gone too, the rooms empty and is completely pitch black, except for the spotlights over the actual bar, the rest of the room is basically invisible and grows cold, freezing in fact.
Spud approaches the bar, downtrodden to have lost the wolf.
A dark figure further obscured by the blackness of the room approaches, it’s a cowboy, the cowboy slides over another whiskey for Spud and holds one up himself.
Spud
So you’re the guy who’s been drinking my drinks?
Cowboy
I’m the guy who’s been buying you drinks.
The Cowboy clinks glasses with Spud before both knock them back.
Spud
Why?
The Cowboy reaches over the bar and grabs a bottle of whiskey. The cowboy fills his own glass and then Spuds.
Cowboy
Do I really need to answer that?
Spud shakes his head, he knows, he’s known the whole time.
Spud lifts his glass and clinks it with the Cowboy.
Cowboy
You know boy, every town on this earth used to fear my name.
Spud
Oh I know.
Cowboy
Drake Nathan, fastest gun, west, east, don’t matter, you come for Raging Drake, you end up Dead.
The pair drink their whiskeys, ‘Raging’ Drake Nathan pours them 2 more.
Drake
Boy, they always asked me, all shootouts are essentially the same thing, right? Two people go mono a mono and one leaves. They ask Drake if that’s true then why are yours different? Why do yours feel more brutal, cold, without care, visceral?
Drake drinks his drink. Spud watches intently.
Drake won’t finish his point until Spud does his drink too. Spud slowly obliges, whiskey is definitely more RD’s drink than Spud’s.
Drake
You know what I tell them?.......
Spud
No, what do you say?
Drake
I say, I do this shit 25 hours a day, 8 days a week and ain’t nobody stopped this gunslinger yet.
Spud sadly looks down into the bar, watching as his glass is yet again filled.
Spud
No more for me Drake.
Drake
You not gonna give this eld man his medicine?
Spud
I don’t have it in me….
Drake
Drink up boy, you’ve got more in the tank than even you think, the tales of The Spud stretch far and wide, he takes the toughest kicking and keeps on ticking, hell I once heard the Spud killed a Rattlesnake.
Spud smiles and struggles through another Whiskey with Drake.
Spud
Not yet Drake, but I am working on it, Rattlesnake better be careful what he wishes for.
Drake
I’ll bet, hell you’re like me, gunslinger, unstoppable, unkillable.
Spud contemplatively swirls his again full whiskey.
Spud
But Drake somebody did stop you, that’s it. No more 25 8 or anything like that, caput, done.
Drake
Listen kid, it happens, don’t dwell or fester, legends never really die, not really.
Spud looks up.
Drake
AND I AM!! RAGING DRAKE NATHAN, THE FASTEST GUN……
Spud
No. You’re not. You’re The Walking Tsunami of Violence…..
The cowboy slowly removes his hat, the shadow concealing his face reveals familiar countenance.
Tears fills the eyes of Spud as he stares in the face of his idol, his rival, the man who’s tested his mettle and sharpened him to the person he is today.
No prizes for guessing who.
Spud
You’re not ‘Raging’ Drake Nathan, you are the one, the only, Undead Brutality, you are Nathan Gust the man but more importantly you are Raging Dead, the legend and I’m not like you, there’s one you. It was a pleasure gunslinger.
Spud and Drake share a smile before the lights cut out.
COMPLETE BLACKNESS
FADE IN
Spud comes to and he’s sat propped against a wall in a random hotel corridor, facing room 258.
He looks at his hand and in it is a key card.
On the off chance he tries it, it works, he’s in.
Spud wryly smiles, looks to the sky and enters the room. Spud immediately throws himself on the bed.
Spud takes out his phone, scrolls down through his contacts, he hovers over the name Charli for a second before continuing to scroll and getting to Laci and calling her.
Spud
Hey, can I see you soon? I’m in 258.
CROSS-DISSOLVE TO A SCENE WITH A FAMILIAR VOICEOVER
After speaking with James, I hated leaving him on his own, but I respected his wishes. This relationship was new and the last thing I wanted was to seem too clingy. I walk back toward the foyer. I spot Zay and join her.
Zaylee Flynn
So that Nathan guy... the one that kicked the bucket? Wasn't that the dude that you tried to have a stable with?
Zaylee asks while grabbing a handful of scotch mints from a bowl on the reception counter.
Laci Valentine
Eww, you don't know how many people have had their hands in there!
I wasn't a germaphobe by any means, I mean I have shared more than just a bottle of champagne with James afterall. (Wink wink, nudge nudge)
Zaylee Flynn
(suddenly)
Can you hold something for me?
Thinking it will be like her bag or phone I say,
Laci Valentine
Sure.
I hold out my hand and she immediately spits one of the mints into it with enough spit to put any porn star to shame. (Don't ask how I know that! Please...)
I dropped it to the floor like it was on fire.
Laci Valentine
Zaylee! Gross.
She smirks. Gawd.... that fucking smirk. I was starting to understand why her and Kyle Kavanaugh were kind of a thing. They were both mentally twisted.
Zaylee Flynn
Anyway... that raging Ned guy…
I sigh.
Laci Valentine
I told you, it was that Dead was taken…
She moves forward, pinching my cheeks.
Zaylee Flynn
You are so cute when you're angry. It's too bad you're not a true bisexual or I would just eat you up....
She leans into my ear.
Zaylee Flynn
Literally…
My face burns red. Damn her. Damn that demon straight to the hell she came from.
Laci Valentine
And who are you to say what a true bisexual is?
She leans against the counter, takes another mint.
Zaylee Flynn
Well first off, because I am one. Second, because you haven't expressed attraction for a single female since I have known you. You don't even look at other girls.
I am outraged. I did. I just... noticed guys first... that's all.... right?
My mouth opens and closes as I shut down all my own excuses before they become verbal.
Zaylee Flynn
See. Even you know I'm telling the truth.
My fists clench.
Laci Valentine
I like girls.
I exclaim, rather loudly. It makes a couple people look at me with raised eyebrows.
Zaylee Flynn
Prove it. The next girl that walks over here, I want you to kiss her. And I mean like really kiss her.
Laci Valentine
You want me to assault some poor girl? Just to prove a point?
Zaylee Flynn
You got it, sweet cheeks.
She was certifiably insane, but I did hate being humiliated like this and Zaylee knew exactly which of my buttons to push.
Laci Valentine
Fine.
I was hoping and praying it was not Priscilla. Gawd, I'd have to rinse my mouth out with gasoline to get that particular poison out of my mouth.
From behind me a voice says,
? ? ?
My sister and I would like a room key, s'il vous plaît.
I didn't think, I turned, grabbed the girl by her face and kissed her. Hands went to my chest, weakly trying to push me away but stopped fighting me after the kiss turned softer, almost reciprocated. I pulled back and my satisfied smile changed to one of horror instantly.
The closed eyes and puckered lips of Cheriè Belanger had me start dry heaving. Fuck. I immediately start running toward the nearest bathroom.
What the fuck had I just done? The few times we had come face to face at an Olympia gym she had been a bratty, barely talented annoyance. Thought she was way better than she actually was because her sperm donor was a legend wrestler. Pfft. I put my head under the facet and start gargling the water. Two seconds later, I hear the door open. I don't look up.
Laci Valentine
Zaylee, I swear to god I am going to put a pillow over your face when you are sleeping.
I feel two hands grip my shoulders.
Laci Valentine
Zay?
I look up to see that there is no one in the bathroom with me. All the stalls are open and empty. The exit door swings shut. What the fuck just happened? I know I am not imagining things. I didn't drink or take any of Zaylee's magic calming pills. When I exit the bathroom, Zay has taken up residence in a chair near the bathroom, feet thrown over the side like she owned the place, only now she has a bowl of peanuts in her lap, munching merrily.
Zaylee Flynn
Don't worry, Arnold & Danny went to their room.
I appreciated the 80's film reference but I was still pissed.
Laci Valentine
Why did you come in there and creep me out just now?
Zaylee shrugs.
Laci Valentine
I mean it. Like me being dared to kiss someone and it end up being the person I hate almost as much as Monster Bitch…
Zaylee Flynn
I didn't go in the bathroom, but some woman in a gown just came out. She kinda gave me the willie's to be honest.
Laci Valentine
And you didn't think to check on me?
She shrugs again.
Laci Valentine
Naw. You're fine.
Laci Valentine
Not really. She put her hands on my shoulders. Left before I saw her face.
Zaylee sits up.
Zaylee Flynn
You know... it might be like those stories I heard. These Americans were backpacking through Europe. Like us, they missed a bus or a ferry or something and had to stay in this really sketch hotel. Well turns out there was this gang that would pick out groups. They would keep the pretty ones and stalk and kill the uggos. You must be an uggo, red.
I roll my eyes.
Laci Valentine
You just made that up.
Zaylee Flynn
Did I? I mean you're the one being stalked.
Laci Valentine
Shut up.
I wasn't scared... you're scared. Uh huh.
Laci Valentine
You know, I've had enough of tonight. I just want to go to my room and lock it all, including you, out.
Zaylee sets the empty bowl down and swings her legs to the floor. She pulls out two key cards.
Zaylee Flynn
I got a sweet deal on a suite for us.
I raised an eyebrow.
Laci Valentine
How did you get a deal?
Zaylee Flynn
Receptionist said a couple people committed suicide in it.
Laci Valentine
No. No fucking way. I am not…
Zaylee starts laughing hysterically.
Laci Valentine
It's not funny…
She wipes a tear from her eye.
Zaylee Flynn
I am totally fucking with you. It was available, so I grabbed it before that chick that thinks she's a better version of me did. Come on. Stop being a wuss.
As we walk toward the stairs, James texts me.
Hey, can I see you soon? I’m in 258.
Zay looks over my shoulder.
Zaylee Flynn
Whoop whoop, booty call coming through.
Laci Valentine
It's not that. He was pretty down earlier. He probably just wants the company. I'll meet you back at the room.
Zaylee smiles.
Zaylee Flynn
Sure you don't need a bodyguard there, princess?
Laci Valentine
I'll be fine.
I walk over toward the elevators, thinking it would be faster, typing my reply.
craziest shit is going on here. I'm on my way up.
I look up. The doors open to show a woman, her makeup was flawless but dated. The gown was a little extravagant for the state of this seriously ancient-looking hotel. She smiles and moves to the side.
Nope.
I practically ran to the stairs instead. I'm good. I'm in shape. A flight of stairs will be good for me, right? I am totally not being stalked, Right?!
CROSS-DISSOLVE
Big Homunculus
Who is Nathan "Raging Dead" Gust?
FADE TO COMMERCIAL
RETURNING FADE
A CONTINUATION OF THE TELLY
[/i]Spud rolls his eyes as he flushes the toilet.
Man
Heavy load, no such thing when you’re the face of European Wrestling my man.
Spud unlocks the door and opens it to the man whose lower face is caked in cocaine.
Man
Don’t I know you?
Spud continues to ignore and steps up to wash his hands.
Man
Hey, you’re that little freak who wanted to be a wrestler aren’t you.
SNIFF
Spud looks up, none too pleased.
Man
How’d that work out little dude? Not great?
Spud huffs but continues to try to ignore.
Man
Like I said then man, we’re always looking for referees and managers to make the real stars look big, you’d be super great for that. That’s a Tony Golden Guarantee.
Spud’s taken about all he can take.
Spud
Well actually Tony, I fucking made it, I’m in Bret Harts company, I’m a fucking champion, they love me because I’m one of them, not some silly cartoon, caricature of a superhero, and a shit superhero at that, I’m me, I’m a wrestler and I’m a good one, better than you.
Spud stands tall beside Golden but even slouched Tony is the far taller man and completely unfazed by Spud’s outburst.
Tony Golden
SNIFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!
That’s the fucking problem nowadays, little freaks like you. In my day, in the 90’s you’d be a fucking manager or a ref, Harvey Wippleman or some shit. That’s nothing though in the 80’s you’d be wrestling the minis and acting like a fool with Bundy, that sound fun to you freak! 70’s oh oh oh, you’d be one of Pattersons boys and you do not wanna be one of those, kid.
SNIFFFFFF!!!!
With every word Tony Golden seems to grow larger, arms more muscular, hair more perfect, Spud by comparison, looks tiny and insignificant.
Tony Golden
Now every, ugly, ridiculous, little troll like you gets their go around. You think there’s a world of possibility in which your skinny, ugly, boring, useless, upsetting, little ass, gets on a lunch box, transcends wrestling. NAH NADA, NO CHANCE, I’M TONY GOLDEN AND YOU’RE A FUCKING STAIN ON MY INDUSTRY.
SNIFF!!!!!!
Spud cowers as the gigantic Golden looms over him.
Tony Golden
STILL THINK WE’RE THE SAME BOY? I’m a titan, you’re a child. I’m zeus, you’re an ant, I’m Tony bloody Golden, you’re some skinny kid called James and James isn’t a lunch box, you’d fit in a lunch box…..
Tony is interrupted by a loud HOWWWWLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!
For the first time Tony looks somewhat afraid.
Tony quickly shrinks back to his normal size as the sounds of animal sprinting towards the pair rings in.
Spud cowers, covering his face.
FADE TO BLACK MOMENTARILY
Spud uncovers his face.
Standing before him is a majestic and huge wolf. Spud knowingly smiles at the wolf. The wolf bows its head slightly, allowing Spud to stroke it.
Spud hugs the wolf.
Spud
It’s so good to see you.
The wolf looks up as if to agree.
Spud
Tony Golden is a prick…. But you’ve been saying that for years though haven’t you.
The wolf picks up the AWF Provincial Championship in its mouth, it must have fell off while Spud was cowering.
The wolf passes the belt to Spud, who smiles as he receives it.
The wolf runs away.
Spud
No don’t go yet, please, please, I need you.
Spud gets up and chases the wolf out of the bathroom.
The wolf’s gone and Spud’s in the bar, no need for any route taken, just out of the bathroom door back to the start.
Charli’s gone too, the rooms empty and is completely pitch black, except for the spotlights over the actual bar, the rest of the room is basically invisible and grows cold, freezing in fact.
Spud approaches the bar, downtrodden to have lost the wolf.
A dark figure further obscured by the blackness of the room approaches, it’s a cowboy, the cowboy slides over another whiskey for Spud and holds one up himself.
Spud
So you’re the guy who’s been drinking my drinks?
Cowboy
I’m the guy who’s been buying you drinks.
The Cowboy clinks glasses with Spud before both knock them back.
Spud
Why?
The Cowboy reaches over the bar and grabs a bottle of whiskey. The cowboy fills his own glass and then Spuds.
Cowboy
Do I really need to answer that?
Spud shakes his head, he knows, he’s known the whole time.
Spud lifts his glass and clinks it with the Cowboy.
Cowboy
You know boy, every town on this earth used to fear my name.
Spud
Oh I know.
Cowboy
Drake Nathan, fastest gun, west, east, don’t matter, you come for Raging Drake, you end up Dead.
The pair drink their whiskeys, ‘Raging’ Drake Nathan pours them 2 more.
Drake
Boy, they always asked me, all shootouts are essentially the same thing, right? Two people go mono a mono and one leaves. They ask Drake if that’s true then why are yours different? Why do yours feel more brutal, cold, without care, visceral?
Drake drinks his drink. Spud watches intently.
Drake won’t finish his point until Spud does his drink too. Spud slowly obliges, whiskey is definitely more RD’s drink than Spud’s.
Drake
You know what I tell them?.......
Spud
No, what do you say?
Drake
I say, I do this shit 25 hours a day, 8 days a week and ain’t nobody stopped this gunslinger yet.
Spud sadly looks down into the bar, watching as his glass is yet again filled.
Spud
No more for me Drake.
Drake
You not gonna give this eld man his medicine?
Spud
I don’t have it in me….
Drake
Drink up boy, you’ve got more in the tank than even you think, the tales of The Spud stretch far and wide, he takes the toughest kicking and keeps on ticking, hell I once heard the Spud killed a Rattlesnake.
Spud smiles and struggles through another Whiskey with Drake.
Spud
Not yet Drake, but I am working on it, Rattlesnake better be careful what he wishes for.
Drake
I’ll bet, hell you’re like me, gunslinger, unstoppable, unkillable.
Spud contemplatively swirls his again full whiskey.
Spud
But Drake somebody did stop you, that’s it. No more 25 8 or anything like that, caput, done.
Drake
Listen kid, it happens, don’t dwell or fester, legends never really die, not really.
Spud looks up.
Drake
AND I AM!! RAGING DRAKE NATHAN, THE FASTEST GUN……
Spud
No. You’re not. You’re The Walking Tsunami of Violence…..
The cowboy slowly removes his hat, the shadow concealing his face reveals familiar countenance.
Tears fills the eyes of Spud as he stares in the face of his idol, his rival, the man who’s tested his mettle and sharpened him to the person he is today.
No prizes for guessing who.
Spud
You’re not ‘Raging’ Drake Nathan, you are the one, the only, Undead Brutality, you are Nathan Gust the man but more importantly you are Raging Dead, the legend and I’m not like you, there’s one you. It was a pleasure gunslinger.
Spud and Drake share a smile before the lights cut out.
COMPLETE BLACKNESS
FADE IN
Spud comes to and he’s sat propped against a wall in a random hotel corridor, facing room 258.
He looks at his hand and in it is a key card.
On the off chance he tries it, it works, he’s in.
Spud wryly smiles, looks to the sky and enters the room. Spud immediately throws himself on the bed.
Spud takes out his phone, scrolls down through his contacts, he hovers over the name Charli for a second before continuing to scroll and getting to Laci and calling her.
Spud
Hey, can I see you soon? I’m in 258.
CROSS-DISSOLVE TO A SCENE WITH A FAMILIAR VOICEOVER
After speaking with James, I hated leaving him on his own, but I respected his wishes. This relationship was new and the last thing I wanted was to seem too clingy. I walk back toward the foyer. I spot Zay and join her.
Zaylee Flynn
So that Nathan guy... the one that kicked the bucket? Wasn't that the dude that you tried to have a stable with?
Zaylee asks while grabbing a handful of scotch mints from a bowl on the reception counter.
Laci Valentine
Eww, you don't know how many people have had their hands in there!
I wasn't a germaphobe by any means, I mean I have shared more than just a bottle of champagne with James afterall. (Wink wink, nudge nudge)
Zaylee Flynn
(suddenly)
Can you hold something for me?
Thinking it will be like her bag or phone I say,
Laci Valentine
Sure.
I hold out my hand and she immediately spits one of the mints into it with enough spit to put any porn star to shame. (Don't ask how I know that! Please...)
I dropped it to the floor like it was on fire.
Laci Valentine
Zaylee! Gross.
She smirks. Gawd.... that fucking smirk. I was starting to understand why her and Kyle Kavanaugh were kind of a thing. They were both mentally twisted.
Zaylee Flynn
Anyway... that raging Ned guy…
I sigh.
Laci Valentine
I told you, it was that Dead was taken…
She moves forward, pinching my cheeks.
Zaylee Flynn
You are so cute when you're angry. It's too bad you're not a true bisexual or I would just eat you up....
She leans into my ear.
Zaylee Flynn
Literally…
My face burns red. Damn her. Damn that demon straight to the hell she came from.
Laci Valentine
And who are you to say what a true bisexual is?
She leans against the counter, takes another mint.
Zaylee Flynn
Well first off, because I am one. Second, because you haven't expressed attraction for a single female since I have known you. You don't even look at other girls.
I am outraged. I did. I just... noticed guys first... that's all.... right?
My mouth opens and closes as I shut down all my own excuses before they become verbal.
Zaylee Flynn
See. Even you know I'm telling the truth.
My fists clench.
Laci Valentine
I like girls.
I exclaim, rather loudly. It makes a couple people look at me with raised eyebrows.
Zaylee Flynn
Prove it. The next girl that walks over here, I want you to kiss her. And I mean like really kiss her.
Laci Valentine
You want me to assault some poor girl? Just to prove a point?
Zaylee Flynn
You got it, sweet cheeks.
She was certifiably insane, but I did hate being humiliated like this and Zaylee knew exactly which of my buttons to push.
Laci Valentine
Fine.
I was hoping and praying it was not Priscilla. Gawd, I'd have to rinse my mouth out with gasoline to get that particular poison out of my mouth.
From behind me a voice says,
? ? ?
My sister and I would like a room key, s'il vous plaît.
I didn't think, I turned, grabbed the girl by her face and kissed her. Hands went to my chest, weakly trying to push me away but stopped fighting me after the kiss turned softer, almost reciprocated. I pulled back and my satisfied smile changed to one of horror instantly.
The closed eyes and puckered lips of Cheriè Belanger had me start dry heaving. Fuck. I immediately start running toward the nearest bathroom.
What the fuck had I just done? The few times we had come face to face at an Olympia gym she had been a bratty, barely talented annoyance. Thought she was way better than she actually was because her sperm donor was a legend wrestler. Pfft. I put my head under the facet and start gargling the water. Two seconds later, I hear the door open. I don't look up.
Laci Valentine
Zaylee, I swear to god I am going to put a pillow over your face when you are sleeping.
I feel two hands grip my shoulders.
Laci Valentine
Zay?
I look up to see that there is no one in the bathroom with me. All the stalls are open and empty. The exit door swings shut. What the fuck just happened? I know I am not imagining things. I didn't drink or take any of Zaylee's magic calming pills. When I exit the bathroom, Zay has taken up residence in a chair near the bathroom, feet thrown over the side like she owned the place, only now she has a bowl of peanuts in her lap, munching merrily.
Zaylee Flynn
Don't worry, Arnold & Danny went to their room.
I appreciated the 80's film reference but I was still pissed.
Laci Valentine
Why did you come in there and creep me out just now?
Zaylee shrugs.
Laci Valentine
I mean it. Like me being dared to kiss someone and it end up being the person I hate almost as much as Monster Bitch…
Zaylee Flynn
I didn't go in the bathroom, but some woman in a gown just came out. She kinda gave me the willie's to be honest.
Laci Valentine
And you didn't think to check on me?
She shrugs again.
Laci Valentine
Naw. You're fine.
Laci Valentine
Not really. She put her hands on my shoulders. Left before I saw her face.
Zaylee sits up.
Zaylee Flynn
You know... it might be like those stories I heard. These Americans were backpacking through Europe. Like us, they missed a bus or a ferry or something and had to stay in this really sketch hotel. Well turns out there was this gang that would pick out groups. They would keep the pretty ones and stalk and kill the uggos. You must be an uggo, red.
I roll my eyes.
Laci Valentine
You just made that up.
Zaylee Flynn
Did I? I mean you're the one being stalked.
Laci Valentine
Shut up.
I wasn't scared... you're scared. Uh huh.
Laci Valentine
You know, I've had enough of tonight. I just want to go to my room and lock it all, including you, out.
Zaylee sets the empty bowl down and swings her legs to the floor. She pulls out two key cards.
Zaylee Flynn
I got a sweet deal on a suite for us.
I raised an eyebrow.
Laci Valentine
How did you get a deal?
Zaylee Flynn
Receptionist said a couple people committed suicide in it.
Laci Valentine
No. No fucking way. I am not…
Zaylee starts laughing hysterically.
Laci Valentine
It's not funny…
She wipes a tear from her eye.
Zaylee Flynn
I am totally fucking with you. It was available, so I grabbed it before that chick that thinks she's a better version of me did. Come on. Stop being a wuss.
As we walk toward the stairs, James texts me.
Hey, can I see you soon? I’m in 258.
Zay looks over my shoulder.
Zaylee Flynn
Whoop whoop, booty call coming through.
Laci Valentine
It's not that. He was pretty down earlier. He probably just wants the company. I'll meet you back at the room.
Zaylee smiles.
Zaylee Flynn
Sure you don't need a bodyguard there, princess?
Laci Valentine
I'll be fine.
I walk over toward the elevators, thinking it would be faster, typing my reply.
craziest shit is going on here. I'm on my way up.
I look up. The doors open to show a woman, her makeup was flawless but dated. The gown was a little extravagant for the state of this seriously ancient-looking hotel. She smiles and moves to the side.
Nope.
I practically ran to the stairs instead. I'm good. I'm in shape. A flight of stairs will be good for me, right? I am totally not being stalked, Right?!
CROSS-DISSOLVE
Big Homunculus
Who is Nathan "Raging Dead" Gust?
FADE TO COMMERCIAL
RETURNING FADE
A CONTINUATION OF THE TELLY
Priscilla Kelly sits in the rather rundown lobby, on the comfiest seat, surrounded by her entourage, watching as Triple H moves through the crowd away from them following his announcement. As she files her nails, she looks up around the room to gauge the reactions. A troubled looking Laci Valentine, a confused looking Homunculus clearly asking Ruxx and Black Clyde who Nathan 'Raging Dead' Gust even is… and then Rockstar Spud, white faced, bolting out of the room. She exhales slightly.[/div]
Priscilla Kelly
You'd think they'd be used to it by now. Didn't Tyler Breeze get fucking murdered in the ring on the last show?
Sitting next to her in another very comfortable chair, sits Maeve, wrapped in a blanket. She doesn't look personally affected by the news, but is saddened as she looks around the room at people who do.
Maeve Shiliko
Yeah… but… people actually liked Raging Dead.
Prince Albert
He was a legend. Lot of people in this room probably idolised him.
The Prince speaks from his position, stood tall behind the seat of Kelly, like a guardian. Priscilla takes another look around, before her eyes settle on Bill Buttertoes, sat on a chair quite a few metres away from her, tears in his eyes, being patted on the back by Cranston.
Priscilla Kelly
Welp. At least I wasn't involved in this one right. Right?
Prince Albert
Yeah you weren't.
Priscilla Kelly
Okay good… maybe I should calm down on the plotting and murdering… just for the time being.
Priscilla looks up at Homunculus, who is ushered through the crowd by his fellow 3BN members.
Priscilla Kelly
Maybe.
Albert follows her eye-line to see where she's looking, and nods when he realises. He turns to Priscilla.
Prince Albert
He won't hurt you Mistress. I won't let him.
Priscilla gets to her feet and gives Albert a small smile as she moves over to him, putting her arms around his neck. Albert smiles, ready for a kiss, but Priscilla's face goes serious.
Priscilla Kelly
You let him become my number one contender.
Albert gulps, as Priscilla lets her arms slip away from around his neck, before walking away.
Priscilla Kelly
Coming Maeve?
Maeve looks up quite stupefied, before giving a small smile at Albert and moving onwards after Priscilla, leaving the Prince stood swallowing his pride, annoyed with himself. From a table in the corner, two looming figures sit, eyes on Maeve as she moves away from the group… it is S2 and Tusk Baby, who look from Maeve to one another, and both grin.
Maeve moves to catch up with Priscilla as she moves through the crowd, who looks to be going out of her way to put herself to the other side of the room. Maeve's about to ask why, until she notices just how much space Priscilla has now put between herself and Big Homunculus, and understands.
Maeve Shiliko
What're you gonna tell Lucas? About Raging Dead?
Priscilla Kelly
Just tell him. He'll be alright.
Maeve Shiliko
You think?
Priscilla Kelly
Kid's mum got fucking obliterated by a speeding car… once you go through that, I think you'll be alright accepting when some guy you watch on TV every now and again passes away.
Maeve Shiliko
Well… okay.
Priscilla Kelly
He's got a shoulder to cry on Maeve if he needs to, he knows that. But you can't shield them from the bullshit.
Maeve Shiliko
Where is he now?
Priscilla Kelly
In one of the rooms, with Beefton… figured he didn't exactly need to attend the meeting meant for the rest of us.
Maeve nods. Priscilla takes this moment to stop and turn to her friend.
Priscilla Kelly
I never asked… how'd your date go with Beefton?
Maeve Shiliko
Oh, you knew about that?
Priscilla Kelly
Of course! Bowling I heard?
Maeve Shiliko
Um… it didn't work out. Beefton isn't as great a guy as I thought.
Priscilla Kelly
Oh. I'm sorry Maeve. He didn't do anything bad did he?
Maeve takes this moment to look up at Priscilla, who looks back at her quite openly, waiting for a response. Maeve is slightly taken aback.
Maeve Shiliko
Um… no. No. Nothing- don't worry about it.
Priscilla nods, before letting her gaze linger on Maeve a little longer, eyes narrowed. She nods again, before turning and continuing onwards. Maeve follows.
Priscilla Kelly
There's a good guy out there for you Maeve. A guy who'll appreciate the wonderful girl attached to that fat ass.
Maeve chuckles to herself.
Maeve Shiliko
Where is it we're going?
Priscilla Kelly
Anywhere that gets us away from that group of fucking numskulls. Why don't we go get a drink?
Maeve Shiliko
Sounds good to me.
Priscilla smiles at Maeve, before linking her arm around hers, and moving around the room towards the Hotel Bar.
CROSS-DISSOLVE
“ACE IN THE HOLE” slow fades onto the titantron to a raucous response. On cue, the AWF Provincial Champion crawls onto the stage, jumping up to heartier cheers. The white-strapped title adorning his waist clearly thanks to the leather jacket specifically made to show it off (his “THE CHAMP IS HERE” shirt just under it), Rockstar Spud lets the cheers rain down with his arms spread pose.
Mark Beverly: The following contest, set for one fall, is the first-ever champion versus champion bout in our history! Introducing first, from the Backseat of the Tour Bus, weighing one hundred forty one pounds, the Alberta Wrestling Federation Provincial Champion: ROCKSTAR! SPUD!
Boasting with the title on the way down the ramp, off the waist it comes to go over his head. Draping it over his shoulder as he ascends the steel steps, he basks in the glory he’s earned from Berlin. There was no denying this was a true champion, although his biggest challenge yet could very well be tonight. Once in the ring (that has been cleaned since the last in-ring segment), each side of it responds well as he shows off the AWF Provincial Championship on them all.
For the second time tonight, this music is met with derision. Following the fight they’ve just gotten into, Priscilla Kelly and the Prince re-enter the arena with annoyance already on both of their faces. Albert looks fuming and ready to destroy, staring a hole through the Provincial Champion inside of the ring.
Cut to Rockstar Spud, who upon noticing that Priscilla has not changed from the street clothes she wore in the contract signing shakes his head, sighs, and seems to ask Priscilla why she’s opted out of this one.
Cut back to Priscilla, shrugging the shoulder she’s got the World’s Championship belted over, allowing the Prince to take the lead down the ramp.
Mark Beverly: And his opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Prince Albert, from Moon Creek, Georgia, weighing one hundred fourteen pounds -- she is the Succubus and the Alberta Wrestling Federation World’s Champion: PRISCILLA! KELLY!
Kelly stays ringside as Prince Albert walks up the steel steps and into the ring, immediately standing in his corner and grilling Spud from afar, who puts his title to the side of the squared circle to ready up.
AWF’s newest official Adam Hitchens makes his debut in this match, doing his homework prior well, knowing he’s got no choice but to call for the bell.
Ding!
Right away, Prince Albert charges with a clothesline that’s ducked! Turning right into a dropkick to the chest, only knocking him into the ropes for a rebound -- AND ALBERT CLOBBERS HIM WITH A CLOTHESLINE!
Spud’s back up, though, and ducking another clothesline -- springboarding off the ropes!
ALBERT CATCHES HIM! SPINNING THE BODY AROUND FOR THE SLAM!
SPUD FALLS TO HIS FEET!
Switching it around now: front-facing Russian legsweep!
That’s countered, now! The Prince grips him under the arm and brings him to his back with an armdrag! Albert’s seething attack doesn’t stop as Priscilla watches intently from the outside, but he’s met with punches to the gut from the Provincial Champion!
PELE KICK! SPUD DROPS DOWN INTO IT FROM NOWHERE!
For once, Albert staggers groggily but he won’t go down! Spud hops into a tilt-a-whirl now! Gonna pull him down for a reverse DDT!
But Albert catches the hold before it can land, grabbing Spud and taking over the grip to put him on his shoulders! Tilt-a-whirls him back around before planting him across his knee! What technique: from the backbreaker position, he pulls him up into another tilt-a-whirl just to crack the back over the other knee!
Jim Ross: That’s a helluva combination!
Drawing back with his palms, one over Spud’s knee, the other pushing down on the chin! Spud’s in the middle of the ring! Where can he go?!
Reaching out for anything, screams are derived with a deepening strain on the hold!
The World’s Champion walks to the other side of the ring, to get the best look at the submission and her Doggy, pounding against the apron in approval.
Spud struggles!
What can be done?!
Albert looses his grip to apply more -- BUT IT BACKFIRES! ROCKSTAR WAITS FOR THAT CHANCE TO SWING A KNEE INTO THE FACE! The Prince pops to his feet! GETS DROPPED WITH A PELE KICK!
Groggily, Albert won’t let himself stay down for long, eating the kick better than anyone else yet has in the company’s history! Spud decides another tilt-a-whirl might work this time, switching it into a crucifix! Brings him shoulder-first down!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Both back up!
BICYCLE KICK!
DUCKED BY SPUD!
He’s off the ropes!
BICYCLE KICK!
DUCKED AGAIN BY SPUD, WHO REBOUNDS ANOTHER SET!
Coming back, he charges in a dropkick that this time catches the chin and pushes him against the ropes -- SPUD CONNECTS WITH LEAPING TORNADO DDT!
NO! Albert shoves him off! Rockstar catches himself in a corner, but has to move quick away from the charging Prince who eats the turnbuckle! Spud grabs at his head -- HANGMAN’S NOOSE NECKBREAKER!
Spud springboards rather than pins, into a knee drop across the face! This time, the outside leg is grabbed!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.....
TWO!...
KICKOUT
Spud realizes he can’t let this man rest and pulls him to his feet. An attempt push is dodged away, the arm getting caught for Spud crank! No way he’ll keep control for this position, so he legs go of the wrist lock to lay in kicks to the thigh to cut down the big man! Swinging left from Albert is ducked! And caught! Spud uses the momentum to his advantage: SIDE EFFECT!
Rockstar’s off the ropes, and has begun a rolling thunder -- LEG DROP! Back to his feet, and springboarding off the ropes! ELBOW DROP! To the heart! Shoots the half!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.......
TWO!.....
PUSHED HIM OFF!
Spud goes flying up but lands athletically on his feet! Albert’s up and charging again, only to get caught with a hurricanrana! Sent over the top rope with it, the Prince is in no control of his fall out of the ring and drops hard on the arena floor!
Groaning from the air being knocked out of him as he rises, Albert doesn’t see Spud rebounding off of the opposite set of ropes!
HE LEAPS OVER!
DOESN’T TOUCH THE ROPE!
CORKSCREW!
MOONSAULT! IT LANDS!
Both men are down! The referee begins the count.
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.....
TWO!....
THREE!....
FOUR!.....
Albert’s stirring is enhanced by the World’s Champion who has walked over to her Prince.
Priscilla Kelly: DOGGY! UP!
Her commands are heard through his grog, Albert pulling himself over to the apron to help himself up. Spud gets up at the same time and looks none the wiser for Albert’s rush!
SPUD CATCHES HIM! ANOTHER HURRICANRANA, BUT HE’S SENT HEADFIRST INTO THE STEEL STEPS WITH THIS ONE!
Cut to Kelly who shakes her head at the shot, but keeps her distance this time as Spud is picking Albert up and rolling him under the top rope. Spud looks over at Kelly as they remain the only two on the outside, shaking his head with a clearly disappointed expression written on his face.
Only after that does he re-enter and the ring to pace towards Albert -- WHO CATCHES HIM WITH A QUICK SPINNING SIDE SLAM! Spud’s like a Happy Meal toy with the way he’s put into Albert’s grasp again: Irish whip!
Spud’s back -- CHUCKED INTO THE AIR! CAUGHT IN A FIREMAN’S CARRY-- SAMOAN DROP! Albert rolls over to shoot the half!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!......
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Spud’s rolling over and trying to pull himself up despite being just about out of it, making Prince’s rope rebound to level him with a stiff shoulder block that much easier! Spud rolls towards the ropes and uses them to pull himself up.
BICYCLE KICK! THIS ONE LANDS!
BUT SPUD FALLS BACK FIRST AND OUT OF THE RING, HIS KIDNEY COLLIDING WITH THE APRON THEN THE ARENA FLOOR!
IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE HE’S GETTING UP!
The Prince pulls Adam by the shirt towards the ropes and tells him to taunt.
Adam Hitchens: ONE!...
TWO!....
Albert paces back and forth inside the ring as he watches his unconscious opponent outside of the ring.
Adam Hitchens: THREE!...
FOUR!....
FIVE!....
SIX!.....
Kelly’s grin sheds away as she sees Rockstar Spud’s head grog up, his glazed-over eyes trying to deduct where and what he’s gotten himself into.
Adam Hitchens: SEVEN!
Noticing the ‘AWF’ logo he sits next to and the ramp on the opposite side, it starts to come back to him.
Adam Hitchens: EIGHT!
Spud forces the best push up he can, then grabs at the apron!
Adam Hitchens: NINE!
Kelly and Albert stare in disbelief as Spud finds the energy to get himself just barely underneath the bottom rope!
Seething, Albert paces back and forth still while putting distance between the two, not helping the man get up, watching his destruction.
Spud looks through a blur as he tries to pull up with the second rope.
BICYCLE KICK!
SPUD GETS HIT AGAIN!
FALLS THROUGH THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE AGAIN!
The arena becomes rife with boos! The Prince goes to the middle of the ring, the World’s Champion visibly cheering from the World’s Champion, before she begins exchanging looks between Spud and the referee.
The negative reception grows, and gains even more still as Batista emerges from behind the curtain in his all-blue ring gear without much delay. Casually, he strides down the ramp, giving a note of acknowledgement to the audience and to the Provincial Champion, but actively ignoring both Priscilla & the Prince.
Finally, he stands over Spud’s unconscious body, his music still blaring through the Public Announce system.
A chuckle.
And a lasting shit-eating grin.
Then the man’s in his grasp! Under his legs!
ON HIS SHOULDERS!
SPLATTERED ACROSS THE STEEL RAMP WITH A MODIFIED BATISTA BOMB! NO SITOUT WITH THIS EXECUTION!
The referee has no choice but to call for the bell!
DING DING DING
The Animal stands proudly over his prey, until the heavy footsteps of the Prince, whose match was just ruined, is heard. Batista makes sure to turn just in time, and the men are nose-to-nose in a staredown.
‘Tista still with that damn grin.
Albert still seething.
Until the World’s Champion comes between them to push Albert back by his stomach and away from the confrontation. Albert looks over his shoulder down to Priscilla, who herself then looks at her World’s Championship.
One last look from Prince Albert at Batista, then Rockstar Spud, before the World’s Championship duo walks off.
Batista is left alone with the man he’s left laid out, standing split-legged over him as a ‘from-below’ camera angle catches the Animal’s primal holler and muscle flexing.
Rockstar Spud d. Priscilla Kelly via disqualification in 7:32
FADE OUT
A CONTINUATION OF THE TELLY
It never fails, “The First” Phil Goode manages to be the last of the AWF superstars to grab a key from the hotel lobby. He has spent the last hour or so blaming himself for the demise of Raging Dead, but it is hard to gauge his sincerity. The legendary Nathan Gust stepped toe-to-toe with Phil Goode during the later moments of his career and fell short to the younger competitor on Primetime 8. In true Goode fashion, he does not weep or express real emotions, but rather he decides to take a moment of silence… just to congratulate himself and soak in this wonderful news. With a swift lift of his head, Goode surveys the room and circles back a few times. His presence is radiant. His broad shoulders are laced with a premium velour fabric and a newly-designed "FirstBrand" logo. Phil takes one look to the heavens and inhales deeply. Also, in true Goode fashion, he relieves himself of all the phlegm in his throat and finds a nice home for it on the hotel carpet.
Tagging alongside of him, is the Uber/Lyft driver-extraordinaire… Greg Plus. He is carrying several loads of luggage for the Goode One and he plops the precious cargo on the stained carpet. Soon after, Goode approaches the desk and begins asking for his room key.
Phil Goode
(Surprising polite)
Hey, how’s it going? I’m here with the Alberta Wrestling Federation and I was just looking to get checked in.
Phil Goode
(Gazing around the lobby)
What a nice place you got here!
Hotel Manager
(With a slight accent)
Tank you my good sir, can I please get your name? I will get you right up to your room in just a moment.
With a nice pace, the manager is typing on the hotel’s desktop.
Phil Goode
(Still somewhat polite)
The First.
The manager turns his screen and shows Goode that there are no results for “The First” in the hotel’s database.
Hotel Manager
(Calm and quite diligent)
Here you go sir. As you can see, there is nothing under that name, is there another one you might have-
Phil Goode
(Cutting the man off)
Mhm. Are you sure? Did you spell “The First” right? I can spell it out if that helps. Capital “T” … lowercase “h” … lowercase “e” … capital “F” lowercas-
Before Goode could finish the proper spelling of his name, the manager cuts him off in the most respectful way and confirms that the spelling is correct.
Hotel Manager
(Nicely put)
Yes sir. Everything looks good on this end; do you want to try another nam-
Phil is not having it. He knows what his name is and how to spell it. His attitude changes quickly.
Phil Goode
I don’t think you get it. Do you understanda the words thata coming outta my mouth?
An African American male by the name of Carter is applauding somewhere in the universe.
Phil Goode
(Now red in the face)
I said it’s “The First” GODDAMNIT. Do I have to make it any clearer for you?
(Condescending)
THE NUMBER 1 with S and T after it.
Hotel Manager
(Visibly offended)
Sir, I just showed you that there are no rooms under that name, is there anything else I can do fo-
Goode takes a step back and flares his nostrils. He looks at Greg Plus in disgust and contemplates using force on the man.
Phil Goode
How many FUCKING times do I have to say it!? My name is “The First” and the reservation is for “THE FIRST”!
Once again, Goode confides in Greg Plus with a quick glance.
Phil Goode
(Pointing at Greg)
GREG! GREG! GREG!
Goode is only a few inches away from Plus when screams his name.
Phil Goode
Tell this asshole what’s going on! You’re the one that set it up for me man.
Greg Plus
(Unfazed)
Yeah ok I’ll tell em. Step back for a second guy, relax.
Greg Plus gets closer to desk and tries to mediate the situation.
Greg Plus
(Trying to distract Goode)
Hey Philly, look over there!
Goode’s attention shifts away from the hotel manager and like a beautiful hairy dog, he speeds to the other side of the room.
Greg Plus
(Now speaking to the manager)
Ok guy, look. I fucked up on this one. I was supposed to stroke this kid’s ego and put the reservation under “The First” … but you know shit happens. I completely forgot about his request and what not… I’m a busy man. Just do me a favour… don’t break my nose for this little mishap, his name is Phil Goode. Make sure you spell Goode with an “E” at the end of it. This kid loves to drill that home.
The manager shakes his head and goes back to typing.
Hotel Manager
(Appreciative)
Oh wow. Look at that, he’s right here. Tanks a lot. He was getting a bit out of hand.
Greg Plus
(In agreement)
I can attest to that. You know what… how about later I buy you a drink for your troubles? I know how much of a narcissistic prick that guy can be. I can’t stand em most of the time to be honest.
Hotel Manager
(Hesitant)
I’ll be here all night because the storm; I can’t really drink on the job.
Greg Plus
Fuck the job. Don’t worry about it I got you.
Greg Plus gives the manager a wink and then grabs the key from the counter. He calls over Phil and he speeds back over to the desk.
Phil Goode
(Out of breath)
Hey asshole… did you… did you find my shit yet!?
Greg Plus reassures Goode that everything is alright.
Greg Plus
Philly! Relax! We are all goode man.
Hotel Manager
(More reassurance)
Yes Mr. Goode, we figured out the problem. You are all set, the room is ready.
Phil Goode
(Even more angry for some reason)
NA! FUCK ALLA THAT! I’m going to jump over that counter and kick your ass.
Just as he grabs the desk and tries to leap around it, the Commissioner and leader of the Austin Administration intervenes.
With both hands up and a look of incredulity on his face, Commissioner Austin grills the hotel manager before turning a look at Phil Goode, then looking back. Literally nothing was witnessed on his end; Stone Cold simply saw one of his being berated and naturally, it couldn't have been his fault. There'll be no disrespecting the Austin Administration in his vicinity, not without paying the price.
Commissioner Austin
(headbob on each syllable, speeding up for the last four words)
You sorry son-of-a-bitch!
Phil Goode's face lights up at the manager being disparaged.
Hotel Manager
I am very sorry sir, it was simply a misunderstanding of lan--
Commissioner Austin
Do you know who this is?! This wasn't no damn misunderstanding! This is The First! There wouldn't be no Alberta Wrestling Federation without the First! Bret wouldn't have had the balls! Would've gave in right there! It's 'cause of Phil Goode, you dumb bastard! It's because of the First!
The manager's second attempt to quell the newfound ordeal with Steve Austin is dashed off with instead of scared grumble as the commissioner has launched his body halfway over the desk, grabbed two handfuls of the man's suit, and pulled them nose-to-nose.
Commissioner Austin
And that stupid piece of garbage Bret may not get it yet but there ain't gonna ever be no Alberta Wrestling Federation without Stone Cold either! Just like this heap of trash you got the nerve to call a hotel wouldn't be making it out the next quarter without this storm and my good fucking business!
Remorseless, Stone Cold loosens his grip only to take both hands and plow the manager's head into the landline phone on the desk, immediately knocking the device from his steady positioning as well as shattering the nose of the innocent man. His head springs up, unconsciously slumping against the back of the seat he's in.
Commissioner Austin
This is my shit! You understand me you bastard?! All these sonsabitches is mine! It's All About Austin!
A finger clogging one nostril, it allows the stream of snot to fly from his nose onto the face of the manager, just prior to the man getting mushed in the face and knocked back so that the chair falls, he nearly breaks his neck, and is left pitifully without integrity on the carpeting.
Commissioner Austin
Dumb bastard.
Moving from the front desk where he leaves Phil Goode, Austin slithers away and through the crowd in the lobby, recruiting to his side his First Enforcer Batista and Brian Pillman Jr along the way through the AWF roster, pass the gangle of teenaged boys employed to the Hungarian establishment, and into the bar.
Searching through the audience, though the only interesting face he sees is Rockstar Spud’s who has made himself comfortable on a stool. Deciding that’ll be for a later date, he moves out of the bar where Dave signals to him Priscilla and Maeve at about ten o’clock, about to make their entry.
The trio moves in and like a militia begin to interact with the environment so as to create the human camouflage you might encounter in Assassin’s Creed. With that logic in play, the fact that these incredibly oddly dressed individuals in this random countryside Hungarian hotel are clearly depictable, they blend in just enough for their stalking not to be spotted.
As Priscilla wishes her friend goodbye, the Commissioner dispatches his comrades to either side of the bar as he himself trails behind her exit. Peaking around the corner, he just nearly gets spotted as she turns quickly to interact with the lady at the front desk, where she grabs a key and makes a fast beeline for the elevator. She punches on the metal of the door when she reads that it is out of order from a sign that looks about ten years aged, but is quick to find the stairway and moves through the doorway up the steps.
Stone Cold keeps behind her about fifteen the entire way, mixing into crowds, grabbing newspapers, and rubbing the head of a child (or was that another fucking midget?), all the while until she’s at the stairs. From there, he keeps away at least a staircase, having to move slowly anyway so as to not creak the old wood beneath his heavy weight.
He's pleased with his successful spy work, smiling that signature Austin smile to himself as he moves up the stairs as quietly as he can. A sudden creak below him, and his vision darts down, almost swearing at the creaky step below his boot. He sighs, before looking back up.
And there stands Priscilla Kelly, looking right at him.
Commissioner Austin
Sonuvabitch.
Priscilla Kelly
Can I help you baldy?
Commissioner Austin
Hell, lady, I can’t walk to my damn room? You got a problem with bald people? I know a lotta good bald brothers you sorry bastard.
Priscilla Kelly
Wow. Interesting how the route to your room happened to be the exact way I was going, all the way from the bar too. You were being real sneaky Steve, but you reek of your shitty fucking IPA. I could smell you a mile off.
Commissioner Austin
You might smellin’ your damn self.
Stone Cold pushes a shoulder past her without any effort to make light of their size difference, stomping three steps up, if only to gain the high ground within his own demented mind.
Commissioner Austin
(with that Stone Cold grimace and headbob)
And you call yourself a champion. Since I got you in my sights, I might as well make it clear. ‘Cause hell, if Stone Cold wanted to, I could stomp a mudhole in ya right here, ain’t no Prince Charming, no damn Whopper Deluxe, no Elephant Man -- nothin’ but a man’s man, a champion’s champion…
A nasty spit down the staircase and a slight lean in.
Commissioner Austin
And a woman.
A fast back away before she can send the slap he deserves. No slap comes though, she just continues to glare at him, eyebrows raised slightly.
Commissioner Austin
But I’m not done with you. No, not yet -- not by a longshot! All ya gots to do is sit back and watch.
(An angry finger as the look on her face is unwavering)
Look at ya! A disgrace! To this industry, to everything it stands for! And that’s ‘cause Austin said so, and if Austin gots to drop that disgrace off the face of this earth his damn self, well then so be it!
His face red, the vein in his neck bulging, he calms himself with that slimy smile.
Commissioner Austin
If that lanky bastard don’t get to ya first.
Priscilla ponders on his words, before nodding her head, as she slowly moves up the steps until she's next to him, on his level. Finally, she exhales, and lets out a small and mocking smile.
Priscilla Kelly
Holy shit was it hard staying horny through all that. Looking at you, going off, spit flying everywhere. Jeez, what an arousal killer. Poor fucking Debra. But! I'm glad I somehow reached down deep and managed it, cos I'm off to go get fucked. Thanks for wasting around a minute of my time, Commish.
Priscilla playfully fist bumps Austin on the shoulder, winks at him, then moves past him up the steps. She gives him one last look as she reaches the top of the staircase.
Priscilla Kelly
You can't touch me, fuckhead.
And Priscilla is gone from his line of view, as she continues to skip down the hallway ahead of her, ready for the shag that awaits.
He remains one foot on each step in his gaze of her line of view. That smile diminishes as he seethes, the levels of what might surely be the Harlot’s Hell aligning in his mind.
FADE TO COMMERCIAL
RETURNING FADE
Orange is slowly walking back to his room from the lobby after the meeting. His movements seem slower than usual, like he is in constant pain.
Fire Ant
RAGING DEAD WAS AN ASSHOLE.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Yup
Fire Ant
YOU TWO NEVER GOT ALONG.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Yup.
Orange approaches an elevator and presses the up button.
Fire Ant
AND HE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU ONCE.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Yup.
Orange enters the elevator, presses the button for the seventh floor and stands there in relative silence except for the elevator music. The door opens and he makes his way down the hall.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Nobody deserves to die young.
Fire Ant
YUP.
Orange walks up to his room and scans his card to open the door. Turning the handle and pushing the door in, he makes a bolt across the unlit room to his bags. Rummaging through them he takes out a bottle of ibuprofen and opens it up only to find it empty. He pulls out another bottle, but has the same luck. He sighs.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
I know I’ve asked this already, but can you please stop screaming.
Fire Ant
I TOLD YOU I FEEL LIKE I’M DROWNING AND FLYING. WHATEVER THE BONE MAN DID TO YOU REALLY FUCKED SOMETHING UP!
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Alright, then can you try not to talk?I let you have your fun with Homunculus, can you just let me rest?
Fire Ant
I’LL TRY MY BEST!
With that Orange gets off the floor, puts his bags to the side and lays on the bed. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
After an unknown amount of time he hears the handle turn and someone enters the room. He is awake, but he does not open his eyes.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
It’s probably Chuck or Trent, I gave them my extra key.
He hears the slow creep of footsteps over to his bed, as suddenly he feels the presence of someone next to him. Could it still be Chuck or Trent? The sudden hand on his dick in that moment confirms not… well, hopefully not.
He feels lips bite his ear, and then a soft, sexy whisper.
Priscilla Kelly
Heya Juice Daddy.
OC opens his eyes, and turns his head slightly to be met with the piercing blues of Priscilla Kelly. She suddenly moves so she's on top of him, straddling him. She sees her reflection in his Aviators.
Priscilla Kelly
God I look hot.
She starts to pose, before giggling, and gesturing to the glasses.
Priscilla Kelly
Are we keeping those on?
Orange shrugs.
Priscilla Kelly
Alright, Aviators can stay on… but the trousers aren't.
Priscilla looks to giddily take off OC's belt, until he reaches out and softly grabs her hand in his to stop her. She looks up at him, wide-eyed and confused.
Orange Cassidy
My head is killing me from the show still, can we not do this right now?
Priscilla looks up at him for a few seconds, before visible disappointment hits her face and she sighs. She sits up on the bed, and pats her legs.
Priscilla Kelly
Okayyyyy…
She exhales loudly.
Priscilla Kelly
Whatever you say Cap'n!
She looks around the room awkwardly, not really meeting OC's eyes. He sits up, as to not make her feel awkward.
Orange Cassidy
Sorry, one stomp from Boneius and I was out cold, I think I might have a concussion. You ok?
Priscilla Kelly
I know. I wish you told me you were going out there… I would've gone out with you. Same with Alaric. The pair of you just fucking ran out there! Since when did you care so much about that Bone-head mother fucker?
Orange Cassidy
I don’t, but we all saw him kill a man. Couldn’t stand to think what would have happened if no one tried to stop him. He killed a man for no reason, can you imagine being so evil that’s how you operate?
Priscilla definitely doesn't look at OC now, her head almost turned entirely in the other direction so he can't see the 'yikes' expression on her face. She continues talking, still face away.
Priscilla Kelly
Look! All I'm saying is! If you told me, I would've got Doggy, and S2, and every fuckface on my payroll to head down to that ring, and fuck him up. There would've been no headache then! And we could fuck!
Orange puts his arms around her from behind and pulls her down so they are both laying on the bed, with her in his arms.
Orange Cassidy
Why didn’t you send them out anyway? Or come out yourself?
Priscilla lingers on this for a few moments. She opts to go a different route.
Priscilla Kelly
Why haven't we fucked yet?
Priscilla turns around in his arms, until she's facing him, eyes looking deeply into one another, noses prodding together. Orange can smell the liquor on her breath.
Priscilla Kelly
Is it really small?
Priscilla giggles. Orange does one of those laughs that’s just blowing air out of your nose.
Orange Cassidy
I don’t think so, but the time has never been right. At your party you were too drunk, at my place you were too drunk and now you’re drunk and I’m concussed. What’s the rush anyway?
Priscilla Kelly
There's no rush. I just really really REALLY wanna fuck you. Like, a lot. I don't know if you've noticed Orange… but I kinda like sex.
Priscilla chuckles.
Priscilla Kelly
But you're right. Time hasn't been right. I have told everyone we've already fucked though so… hope you don't mind.
Orange Cassidy
That’s fine, do what you have to to keep face. I forgot to ask, how was the waitress?
Priscilla Kelly
Loud. Very loud. But then, I tend to bring that out of people.
Priscilla's eyes move from Orange to the door of the room, then dart back to his face.
Priscilla Kelly
If we're not fucking, how about we do a bit of exploring? I'm sure we can find something for your head somewhere in this hotel? And if not, I'll have Cranston risk getting struck by lightning to pop to the nearest pharmacy.
Orange places a small kiss on her nose.
Orange Cassidy
Sounds good, I’m a little low on ibuprofen.
Fire Ant
A LITTLE LOW?! YOU’VE GONE THROUGH 100 IN 48 HOURS! HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD?
Orange Cassidy
(Under his breath)
Shut up!
Priscilla Kelly
Ummm.... did you just tell yourself to shut up?
Orange Cassidy
.... Say, when we’re exploring, why don’t you introduce me to your friends, you know mine. It’s only fair.
Priscilla Kelly
Oh… well! If you insist I'd be happy to. Maeve's in the bar right now. You met Maeve? Asian girl. Huge Ass. She's lovely.
Orange Cassidy
Sure?
Fire Ant
SMOOTH.
Priscilla Kelly
Alright, let's go!
Priscilla is on her feet, hands locked with OC's as to yank him off of the bed til he's standing next to her. She grabs his head, lays a huge kiss on him, and then pulls him with her towards the door and out of the room.
CROSS-DISSOLVE
Ruxx Rampede has sat Homunculus down on a chair in a room I guess. Black Clyde watches, hoping his knowledge of physical training can somehow help.
Ruxx Rampede
So Raging Dead was our colleague, you were in a match him two weeks ago.
Big Homunculus
Did I beat him?
Ruxx Rampede
Naw he was your motherfuckin' teammate.
Big Homunculus
He's one of us? And he's dead. But we're both right here which means...Black Clyde is dead!?
Black Clyde
Right next to you, buddy.
Ruxx Rampede
What the, what? No the dude's name was Raging Dead, he was a big deal and shit. Long ass grey hair and shit, his bones were always hurtin and shit. He got buried alive. Which I guess saved them on funeral costs.
Big Homunculus
Raging Dead is a name of a man.
Ruxx Rampede
Was, yeah.
Big Homunculus
And he is no longer Raging?
Ruxx Rampede
That's one way to put it, brother.
Big Homunculus
Sorry I took so long to understand this, my brain is full of fog and thoughts that confuse and anger me and it is rendering my usually excellent cognitive powers relatively blunt.
Ruxx Rampede
No problem.
Big Homunculus
Now I would like to meet this, "Raging Dead", is he in the hotel?
Ruxx launches a table in a wall in frustration.
He looks at Black Clyde.
Ruxx Rampede
Our boy's got a lot on his mind, we might be here a while, don't let us distract you from your soda pop, I know you were excited to try european soda.
The door to the room is BLASTED open with great velocity.
Jerome Hathersage enters.
Ruxx Rampede/Big Homunculus/Black Clyde
Jerome in the motherfuckin' house now!
Jerome Hathersage goes to his good friends Ruxx and H first and has a conversation of a couple of hours with each of them before turning to Clyde.
Jerome Hathersage
You have a fancy European soda, Clyde?
Black Clyde
I do, I do. Come on I'll leave Ruxx to it, I don't think my advice on deadlift form is helpful in this situation.
Clyde and Jerome Hathersage walk into the lobby.
Black Clyde
I got a can of "San Pellegrino".
Jerome Hathersage
That sounds European as fuck.
Black Clyde
You haven't heard the best part.
Jerome Hathersage
I'm listening.
Black Clyde
The flavour is "blood orange".
Jerome Hathersage
Blood orange? Now I'm excited, I can't imagine how you feel!
Black Clyde
Honestly man I'm so happy I can't wait to try it, I'm so happy I have a good friend to be here with me when it happens.
Jerome Hathersage
I feel that, where is it?
Black Clyde
I left it right....
Black Clyde gestures to a table with nothing but a ring of moisture the diameter of a can on it.
Black Clyde
...here.
Jerome Hathersage looks at his good friend with concern on his face, as the worst thing possible seems to have happened.
Jerome Hathersage
Shall I get Ruxx and Big H?
Black Clyde
No! No, they have enough to deal with. I-I...
Clyde is ruffled and his eyes dart around, he charges for the entrance to the Hotel.
Jerome Hathersage
No! The wind is too ferocious!
Clyde flings himself through the door and strong, bitter winds immediately blast him backwards through several walls of the hotel. A Clyde shaped hole is in the walls of several consecutive rooms. In one of the rooms an attractive woman covers an old man in rashers of raw bacon, in another a monk uses sheer self control to channel the tao and raise his temperature until he becomes a gas, but that doesn't matter to Clyde (or anybody really which is mental given what an amazing physical and metaphysical feat it really is) who crawls out of the carnage.
Black Clyde
I cannot run from this.
Jerome Hathersage
We can find your blood orange San Pellegrino! We can do it!
Black Clyde
I told him to train his rear delts! I Gave him workout plans that would target his rear delts and he just didn't listen! and now he's dead!
Jerome Hathersage
What-
Black Clyde
Raging Dead, man, I warned him about the dangers of neglecting posterior shoulder strength. I warned him and if he'd just done more rowing movements he'd undoubtedly still be here.
Jerome Hathersage puts his hand on Clyde's shoulder.
Jerome Hathersage
Black, I'm your good friend and I can only be honest with you, you're using Raging Dead's death as a coping mechanism to distract yourself from losing your can of upscale carbonated drink. I get it. I did a lot of gambling after my hamsters exploded, and it taught me that you have to focus on what hurts most. You've lost your blood orange San Pellegrino, but it's ok, we can still find it.
Clyde chokes back tears.
Black Clyde
Damn am I lucky to have a good friend like you, Jerome Hathersage.
Jerome Hathersage
Hey check this out.
Renowned strong men Eddie Hall and Brian Shaw emerge from a corridor.
Due to their width they don't have much space between them and seem to have got into an argument.
Eddie Hall
Why'd you just touch my hand you lanky fucker? I'm fuckin' married!
Brian Shaw
Hey man you need to back off because you touched my hand.
Eddie Hall
Don't start making shit up like Hafthor. You're better than that big prick. What are we gonna tell the wives?
Brian Shaw
Before we tell them anything, are we sure that touching hands made us gay.
Eddie Hall
Fuck's sakes, I wish we had some guidance. Hey! Fuckin' hell that's my good friend Jerome Hathersage!
Brian Shaw
You're good friend Jerome Hathersage? He's MY good-
Eddie Hall
Yeah he's your good friend too, I get it. Hey Jerome! Help us settle this please.
Jerome and Clyde approach the two strong men. Shaw seems to recognise Clyde and gets his phone out.
Brian Shaw
Hey, is this you? Did you leave this under a video of me throwing a keg into the sky?
Black Clyde
Sure is, offer still stands.
Brian Shaw
Thank you, sir!
Eddie Hall
Listen lads, we've got a serious fuckin' problem. The corridors to this here hotel are weirdly narrow, and me and Brian just touched hands. We've got wives at home and need to know, does this make us gay?
Jerome Hathersage looks to Clyde for guidance and Clyde sighs a pained sigh.
Black Clyde
This is one of those conundrums I simply can't answer. I'm always learning, but when you're always learning that means you don't know everything.
Brian Shaw
God darn it I'm just gonna call her and divorce her.
Black Clyde
Not so fast. There is a man who can help you.
Eddie Hall
We must go to him. I know it'll be risky but I've got do it, for me wife as well as for me.
Brian Shaw
Eddie's right, we'll do whatever it takes. Much like being gay, this isn't a choice.
CUT TO
The roof of the hotel is being brutally battered by the storm. A black fist penetrates the roof from within, like Jerome Hathersage penetrating Rank Honway, through the hole created by the fist, Jerome, Eddie, Brian and Black climb out on the roof. They're immediately blasted by the storm, however have attached themselves to the inside of the hotel via chains.
Black Clyde looks to the sky and screams over the lashing wind and rain.
Black Clyde
THE WALKING DEAD!!! OKJA!!!! SORRY TO BOTHER YOU!!!! MAYHEM!!!! IN THE NAME OF YAHWEH AND THE PAPACY I BESEECH THEE LORD YEUN, IN THESE MEN'S MOMENT OF NEED PLEASE COME TO US!!!!
For the men present, and for them alone, the wind ceases and the rain is no more. The sun has not come out but from the darkness of the clouds come heavenly rays which radiate divinity and pureness of intent. The energy of the rays fizz together as the concentrated, supernatural power of love manifest themselves in their human form: Steven Yeun.
Clyde and co are suddenly enveloped in something that can be described only as peace.
Eddie Hall
Mate, listen, we've got something you need to help us-
Steven raises his hand gently with a smile and Eddie stops. Steven's benevolent gaze tells everyone that he requires no explanation, he already knows.
Brian and Eddie look uncomfortable but then make eye contact with each other and it all makes sense.
Brian Shaw
I think, always, I think deep down maybe we both...maybe my subconscious knew and that's why I brushed your hand and-
Eddie puts his finger on Brian's lips. They both smile.
Eddie turns to Steven.
Eddie Hall
Thank you, now if you don't mind, we have some calls to make.
Steven nods and Eddie and Brian suddenly disappear.
Black Clyde looks around and Jerome Hathersage is gone too.
Black Clyde
Wh-why am I still here, how do I get back to the hotel?
Steven Yeun
They found what they were looking for, I gave them the peace they needed. You still want. You still desire. You are still troubled.
Black Clyde
A colleague of mine...passed away recently and it's-
Steven tilts his head and smiles. There really is no point lying to him.
Black Clyde
Jerome was right, I'm just deflecting. There was, a can of carbonated drink. It's called San Pellegrino, the flavour was blood orange. I've never had anything like it before in my life, but when in Europe, y'know?
Steven nods, knowingly.
Black Clyde
I was just so goddamn excited, and I'd do anything to get it back. To know how to get it back. Can you help me.
Steven Yeun
Until I've helped you, neither of us can go back.
Black Clyde nods.
Steven Yeun
The can is unlikely to have moved itself. You've lived long without San Pellegrino, but ask yourself, who out there would feel naked, weak, without a can of carbonated drink?
Steven smiles and the lights start to blur, Clyde feels the wind and the rain hitting his face and he feels himself being thrown through the air, a mere passenger in the grasp of the wind until suddenly he's on his back in a corridor of the hotel. He's spread eagle on the floor looking up at a poster on the wall of the corridor. The poster is of Steve Austin giving his iconic beer smashing celebration, a can in each hand. Next to him on the poster are Pillman and Batista. Clyde stares at the cans in Austin's hands.
The cyborg eye suddenly glows brighter than it ever has and Clyde rise to his feet without even bending any limbs. He's face to face with the version of Austin on the poster and his fists furiously pound on the Batista and Pillman behind him with robotic drive until he's pounded straight through the wall behind the poster. His cyborg eye glows so brightly, his head pressed against Austin's, that it starts to burn Austin's face.
Black Clyde
YOU TOOK IT ALL FROM ME. BATISTA YOU'RE A FAT SLOB WITH A POOR PHYSIQUE AND PILLMAN I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT I WILL PURSUE MY BLOOD ORANGE SAN PELLEGRINO TO THE END OF THE EARTH, SO IF IT NO LONGER EXISTS THEN I'LL NEVER FIND, AND I'LL JUST HAVE TO BEAT YOU DOWN FOR THE REST OF MY LIIIIIIIIFE.
Black Clyde turns and sprints powerfully down the corridor and right past a vending machine filled with many beverages, blood orange San Pellegrino included.
CROSS-DISSOLVE
CROSS-DISSOLVE
Alaric watches as Priscilla and Maeve move through the crowd into the distance, but they're not who he's looking for. His neck is craned, eyes wide and peering over the heads of the whole lobby, looking very specifically for the face of his brother Kolotov.
He clutches at his bandaged wrist, bitten open by Barron Boneius during the last show… or at least the version of the Barron he'd seen. It didn't seem to be the same Barron he was used to, or had worked for. He was scarier, more intense, and his usual henchmen were nowhere to be found, and that included his brother.
And still now, it seemed Kolotov was nowhere to be found.
And Alaric was a little worried.
Bill Buttertoes
Everything alright Al?
Alaric turns to be greeted by the sight of the rather teary eyed Bill. He tries to put on a brave face, clearly concerned for Alaric despite his own sorrow over the confirmation of his lost hero.
Alaric Dracislav
Umm… I'm just looking for my brother is all. Have you seen him?
Bill Buttertoes
Oh. 'Fraid not. I can help you look?
Alaric Dracislav
That would help. Thank you.
Alaric sends a smile Bill's way, who sends a smile back. He turns around to the lobby suddenly, and screams a gutwrenching scream to the lobby.
Bill Buttertoes
KOLOTOOooooooOOOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVV!!!!!!
Silence befalls the whole lobby. Everyone looks over at Bill, in confusion and shock. Bill nods.
Bill Buttertoes
No Kolotov? Alright.
Bill turns around to Alaric and shrugs. Alaric looks a little surprised, but somewhat grateful, as the rumbling of voices returns to the lobby, people shooting Bill looks.
Alaric Dracislav
Well… I guess that settles that.
Bill Buttertoes
Yeah he's definitely not in the lobby. But we'll find him! He's gotta be somewhere in the hotel right?
Alaric Dracislav
I'd hope so.
Bill wipes his eyes and smiles at Alaric.
Bill Buttertoes
Then let's go.
Bill turns around and sprints through the room to the door, prompting a very surprised Alaric to suddenly have to bolt after him.
Alaric Dracislav
Oh do we have to go so fast Bill!?
CROSS-DISSOLVE
CROSS-DISSOLVE
Priscilla and Maeve sit across from one another at a table in the dingy hotel bar, many empty glasses on their table signifying how much the pair have had to drink in each other's presence. Priscilla has her phone to her face, eyes wide with amazement.
Priscilla Kelly
Maeve! This is amazing!
Maeve Shiliko
You think?
Priscilla scrolls through her phone, on Maeve's art instagram, looking through her pictures. Her eyes scan the picturesque landscapes, the beautiful imagery, the almost photo realistic portraits, specifically the one of Maeve's own father.
Priscilla Kelly
You didn't tell me you were such a good painter.
Maeve Shiliko
I didn't know if it was relevant…
Priscilla Kelly
Relevant!? Maeve! I obviously want you to paint me now!
Maeve Shiliko
You do?
Priscilla Kelly
Well Guh-DOY! Have you seen my house, there's paintings and pictures of me everywhere! But now I get to support my own friend doing it! Abso-fucking-lutely you're painting me!
Maeve blushes, before a wide beaming smile comes onto her face.
Maeve Shiliko
I'd love that! I really would!
Priscilla Kelly
How much would you want? Compensation-wise?
Maeve Shiliko
Well… I could give you a discount since you're my friend?
Priscilla looks at Maeve in stunned silence.
Priscilla Kelly
Give… give me a discount? Maeve, are you fucking retarded? I'm rich you dumb fuck. It's you who I want to get more money out of this shit. Let's make it twenty grand.
Maeve Shiliko
What!?!?! TWENTY GRAND!?!? ARE YOU KIDDING!?!!
Priscilla Kelly
No.
Maeve Shiliko
Just to paint you!? Once!?!? Priscilla that's so much!!!
Priscilla Kelly
Maeve I bought a whole Total Wipeout course for a party. I didn't rent it. I bought it. It's still in my fucking garden. You think I'd do shit like that and then not support people I love?
Tears are in Maeve's eyes. She gets up from her seat, moves over to Priscilla, and hugs her tightly.
Maeve Shiliko
Priscilla… thank you!
Priscilla scrunches her eyes closed and hugs Maeve back.
Priscilla Kelly
That painting better be fucking good though.
Maeve pulls out of the hug and smiles a teary smile at Priscilla.
Maeve Shiliko
God… when I was back at the Post Office, I never thought hugging you was in my future.
Priscilla Kelly
I was hoping a lot more than hugging you would be in my future, but I'll settle.
Priscilla smiles, as does Maeve.
Priscilla Kelly
I care about you Maeve. I do. If there's anything you need, let me know.
In that moment, Maeve's face goes serious. Now's her chance.
Maeve Shiliko
There is one thing…
Priscilla notices the shift in tone.
Priscilla Kelly
Yeah?
Maeve Shiliko
Can you tell S2 to back off?
A silence.
Priscilla Kelly
What?
Maeve Shiliko
I'm sorry. I know he's your old friend and everything… he's just a little overbearing that's all. He just can be… difficult.
Priscilla Kelly
My S2?
Maeve notices a tiny bit of resistance.
Maeve Shiliko
Yeah. It's nothing huge. Just- just- he just-
Priscilla Kelly
I'll get Doggy to have a word with him.
Maeve nods, suddenly a little nervous.
Priscilla Kelly
Everything okay?
Maeve stares at Priscilla, struggle in her eyes. Suddenly, she forces a smile onto her face.
Maeve Shiliko
Yeah.
Priscilla nods slowly, eyebrows narrowed.
Priscilla Kelly
Alright…
And behind Maeve, she sees a man on the otherside a bar sipping a glass of vodka orange. Priscilla's eyebrow raises, the glass of liquid reminding her all too much of one very specific individual. She turns to look at Maeve.
Priscilla Kelly
Can I catch you later beautiful? I wanna check on someone.
Maeve Shiliko
Umm… sure. Shall I stay in the bar?
Priscilla Kelly
Do whatever you want. I dunno how long I'll be.
Maeve Shiliko
Oh, I just, I don't know anyone else really…
Priscilla Kelly
Get to know them! You met Rockstar Spud, chat that little pipsqueak up! Steal him away from that ginger skank!
Maeve Shiliko
Umm… okay.
Priscilla Kelly
Maeve, you and your big beautiful ass will be just fine. If not, text me. I'll be back to your side in a heartbeat.
Priscilla leans forward and kisses Maeve on the forehead, before jumping out of her seat and skipping quite drunkenly out of the bar. She skips all the way over to the Front Desk, pushing right to the front of the line, where she gives a wide grin at the rather bemused looking Front Desk Worker.
Priscilla Kelly
Key to Mr. Cassidy's room please!
CROSS-DISSOLVE INTO THE ARENA
CROSS-DISSOLVE INTO THE ARENA
“ACE IN THE HOLE” slow fades onto the titantron to a raucous response. On cue, the AWF Provincial Champion crawls onto the stage, jumping up to heartier cheers. The white-strapped title adorning his waist clearly thanks to the leather jacket specifically made to show it off (his “THE CHAMP IS HERE” shirt just under it), Rockstar Spud lets the cheers rain down with his arms spread pose.
Mark Beverly: The following contest, set for one fall, is the first-ever champion versus champion bout in our history! Introducing first, from the Backseat of the Tour Bus, weighing one hundred forty one pounds, the Alberta Wrestling Federation Provincial Champion: ROCKSTAR! SPUD!
Boasting with the title on the way down the ramp, off the waist it comes to go over his head. Draping it over his shoulder as he ascends the steel steps, he basks in the glory he’s earned from Berlin. There was no denying this was a true champion, although his biggest challenge yet could very well be tonight. Once in the ring (that has been cleaned since the last in-ring segment), each side of it responds well as he shows off the AWF Provincial Championship on them all.
For the second time tonight, this music is met with derision. Following the fight they’ve just gotten into, Priscilla Kelly and the Prince re-enter the arena with annoyance already on both of their faces. Albert looks fuming and ready to destroy, staring a hole through the Provincial Champion inside of the ring.
Cut to Rockstar Spud, who upon noticing that Priscilla has not changed from the street clothes she wore in the contract signing shakes his head, sighs, and seems to ask Priscilla why she’s opted out of this one.
Cut back to Priscilla, shrugging the shoulder she’s got the World’s Championship belted over, allowing the Prince to take the lead down the ramp.
Mark Beverly: And his opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Prince Albert, from Moon Creek, Georgia, weighing one hundred fourteen pounds -- she is the Succubus and the Alberta Wrestling Federation World’s Champion: PRISCILLA! KELLY!
Kelly stays ringside as Prince Albert walks up the steel steps and into the ring, immediately standing in his corner and grilling Spud from afar, who puts his title to the side of the squared circle to ready up.
AWF’s newest official Adam Hitchens makes his debut in this match, doing his homework prior well, knowing he’s got no choice but to call for the bell.
Ding!
Right away, Prince Albert charges with a clothesline that’s ducked! Turning right into a dropkick to the chest, only knocking him into the ropes for a rebound -- AND ALBERT CLOBBERS HIM WITH A CLOTHESLINE!
Spud’s back up, though, and ducking another clothesline -- springboarding off the ropes!
ALBERT CATCHES HIM! SPINNING THE BODY AROUND FOR THE SLAM!
SPUD FALLS TO HIS FEET!
Switching it around now: front-facing Russian legsweep!
That’s countered, now! The Prince grips him under the arm and brings him to his back with an armdrag! Albert’s seething attack doesn’t stop as Priscilla watches intently from the outside, but he’s met with punches to the gut from the Provincial Champion!
PELE KICK! SPUD DROPS DOWN INTO IT FROM NOWHERE!
For once, Albert staggers groggily but he won’t go down! Spud hops into a tilt-a-whirl now! Gonna pull him down for a reverse DDT!
But Albert catches the hold before it can land, grabbing Spud and taking over the grip to put him on his shoulders! Tilt-a-whirls him back around before planting him across his knee! What technique: from the backbreaker position, he pulls him up into another tilt-a-whirl just to crack the back over the other knee!
Jim Ross: That’s a helluva combination!
Drawing back with his palms, one over Spud’s knee, the other pushing down on the chin! Spud’s in the middle of the ring! Where can he go?!
Reaching out for anything, screams are derived with a deepening strain on the hold!
The World’s Champion walks to the other side of the ring, to get the best look at the submission and her Doggy, pounding against the apron in approval.
Spud struggles!
What can be done?!
Albert looses his grip to apply more -- BUT IT BACKFIRES! ROCKSTAR WAITS FOR THAT CHANCE TO SWING A KNEE INTO THE FACE! The Prince pops to his feet! GETS DROPPED WITH A PELE KICK!
Groggily, Albert won’t let himself stay down for long, eating the kick better than anyone else yet has in the company’s history! Spud decides another tilt-a-whirl might work this time, switching it into a crucifix! Brings him shoulder-first down!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Both back up!
BICYCLE KICK!
DUCKED BY SPUD!
He’s off the ropes!
BICYCLE KICK!
DUCKED AGAIN BY SPUD, WHO REBOUNDS ANOTHER SET!
Coming back, he charges in a dropkick that this time catches the chin and pushes him against the ropes -- SPUD CONNECTS WITH LEAPING TORNADO DDT!
NO! Albert shoves him off! Rockstar catches himself in a corner, but has to move quick away from the charging Prince who eats the turnbuckle! Spud grabs at his head -- HANGMAN’S NOOSE NECKBREAKER!
Spud springboards rather than pins, into a knee drop across the face! This time, the outside leg is grabbed!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.....
TWO!...
KICKOUT
Spud realizes he can’t let this man rest and pulls him to his feet. An attempt push is dodged away, the arm getting caught for Spud crank! No way he’ll keep control for this position, so he legs go of the wrist lock to lay in kicks to the thigh to cut down the big man! Swinging left from Albert is ducked! And caught! Spud uses the momentum to his advantage: SIDE EFFECT!
Rockstar’s off the ropes, and has begun a rolling thunder -- LEG DROP! Back to his feet, and springboarding off the ropes! ELBOW DROP! To the heart! Shoots the half!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.......
TWO!.....
PUSHED HIM OFF!
Spud goes flying up but lands athletically on his feet! Albert’s up and charging again, only to get caught with a hurricanrana! Sent over the top rope with it, the Prince is in no control of his fall out of the ring and drops hard on the arena floor!
Groaning from the air being knocked out of him as he rises, Albert doesn’t see Spud rebounding off of the opposite set of ropes!
HE LEAPS OVER!
DOESN’T TOUCH THE ROPE!
CORKSCREW!
MOONSAULT! IT LANDS!
Both men are down! The referee begins the count.
Adam Hitchens: ONE!.....
TWO!....
THREE!....
FOUR!.....
Albert’s stirring is enhanced by the World’s Champion who has walked over to her Prince.
Priscilla Kelly: DOGGY! UP!
Her commands are heard through his grog, Albert pulling himself over to the apron to help himself up. Spud gets up at the same time and looks none the wiser for Albert’s rush!
SPUD CATCHES HIM! ANOTHER HURRICANRANA, BUT HE’S SENT HEADFIRST INTO THE STEEL STEPS WITH THIS ONE!
Cut to Kelly who shakes her head at the shot, but keeps her distance this time as Spud is picking Albert up and rolling him under the top rope. Spud looks over at Kelly as they remain the only two on the outside, shaking his head with a clearly disappointed expression written on his face.
Only after that does he re-enter and the ring to pace towards Albert -- WHO CATCHES HIM WITH A QUICK SPINNING SIDE SLAM! Spud’s like a Happy Meal toy with the way he’s put into Albert’s grasp again: Irish whip!
Spud’s back -- CHUCKED INTO THE AIR! CAUGHT IN A FIREMAN’S CARRY-- SAMOAN DROP! Albert rolls over to shoot the half!
Adam Hitchens: ONE!......
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Spud’s rolling over and trying to pull himself up despite being just about out of it, making Prince’s rope rebound to level him with a stiff shoulder block that much easier! Spud rolls towards the ropes and uses them to pull himself up.
BICYCLE KICK! THIS ONE LANDS!
BUT SPUD FALLS BACK FIRST AND OUT OF THE RING, HIS KIDNEY COLLIDING WITH THE APRON THEN THE ARENA FLOOR!
IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE HE’S GETTING UP!
The Prince pulls Adam by the shirt towards the ropes and tells him to taunt.
Adam Hitchens: ONE!...
TWO!....
Albert paces back and forth inside the ring as he watches his unconscious opponent outside of the ring.
Adam Hitchens: THREE!...
FOUR!....
FIVE!....
SIX!.....
Kelly’s grin sheds away as she sees Rockstar Spud’s head grog up, his glazed-over eyes trying to deduct where and what he’s gotten himself into.
Adam Hitchens: SEVEN!
Noticing the ‘AWF’ logo he sits next to and the ramp on the opposite side, it starts to come back to him.
Adam Hitchens: EIGHT!
Spud forces the best push up he can, then grabs at the apron!
Adam Hitchens: NINE!
Kelly and Albert stare in disbelief as Spud finds the energy to get himself just barely underneath the bottom rope!
Seething, Albert paces back and forth still while putting distance between the two, not helping the man get up, watching his destruction.
Spud looks through a blur as he tries to pull up with the second rope.
BICYCLE KICK!
SPUD GETS HIT AGAIN!
FALLS THROUGH THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE AGAIN!
The arena becomes rife with boos! The Prince goes to the middle of the ring, the World’s Champion visibly cheering from the World’s Champion, before she begins exchanging looks between Spud and the referee.
The negative reception grows, and gains even more still as Batista emerges from behind the curtain in his all-blue ring gear without much delay. Casually, he strides down the ramp, giving a note of acknowledgement to the audience and to the Provincial Champion, but actively ignoring both Priscilla & the Prince.
Finally, he stands over Spud’s unconscious body, his music still blaring through the Public Announce system.
A chuckle.
And a lasting shit-eating grin.
Then the man’s in his grasp! Under his legs!
ON HIS SHOULDERS!
SPLATTERED ACROSS THE STEEL RAMP WITH A MODIFIED BATISTA BOMB! NO SITOUT WITH THIS EXECUTION!
The referee has no choice but to call for the bell!
DING DING DING
The Animal stands proudly over his prey, until the heavy footsteps of the Prince, whose match was just ruined, is heard. Batista makes sure to turn just in time, and the men are nose-to-nose in a staredown.
‘Tista still with that damn grin.
Albert still seething.
Until the World’s Champion comes between them to push Albert back by his stomach and away from the confrontation. Albert looks over his shoulder down to Priscilla, who herself then looks at her World’s Championship.
One last look from Prince Albert at Batista, then Rockstar Spud, before the World’s Championship duo walks off.
Batista is left alone with the man he’s left laid out, standing split-legged over him as a ‘from-below’ camera angle catches the Animal’s primal holler and muscle flexing.
Rockstar Spud d. Priscilla Kelly via disqualification in 7:32
FADE OUT
A CONTINUATION OF THE TELLY
It never fails, “The First” Phil Goode manages to be the last of the AWF superstars to grab a key from the hotel lobby. He has spent the last hour or so blaming himself for the demise of Raging Dead, but it is hard to gauge his sincerity. The legendary Nathan Gust stepped toe-to-toe with Phil Goode during the later moments of his career and fell short to the younger competitor on Primetime 8. In true Goode fashion, he does not weep or express real emotions, but rather he decides to take a moment of silence… just to congratulate himself and soak in this wonderful news. With a swift lift of his head, Goode surveys the room and circles back a few times. His presence is radiant. His broad shoulders are laced with a premium velour fabric and a newly-designed "FirstBrand" logo. Phil takes one look to the heavens and inhales deeply. Also, in true Goode fashion, he relieves himself of all the phlegm in his throat and finds a nice home for it on the hotel carpet.
Tagging alongside of him, is the Uber/Lyft driver-extraordinaire… Greg Plus. He is carrying several loads of luggage for the Goode One and he plops the precious cargo on the stained carpet. Soon after, Goode approaches the desk and begins asking for his room key.
Phil Goode
(Surprising polite)
Hey, how’s it going? I’m here with the Alberta Wrestling Federation and I was just looking to get checked in.
Phil Goode
(Gazing around the lobby)
What a nice place you got here!
Hotel Manager
(With a slight accent)
Tank you my good sir, can I please get your name? I will get you right up to your room in just a moment.
With a nice pace, the manager is typing on the hotel’s desktop.
Phil Goode
(Still somewhat polite)
The First.
The manager turns his screen and shows Goode that there are no results for “The First” in the hotel’s database.
Hotel Manager
(Calm and quite diligent)
Here you go sir. As you can see, there is nothing under that name, is there another one you might have-
Phil Goode
(Cutting the man off)
Mhm. Are you sure? Did you spell “The First” right? I can spell it out if that helps. Capital “T” … lowercase “h” … lowercase “e” … capital “F” lowercas-
Before Goode could finish the proper spelling of his name, the manager cuts him off in the most respectful way and confirms that the spelling is correct.
Hotel Manager
(Nicely put)
Yes sir. Everything looks good on this end; do you want to try another nam-
Phil is not having it. He knows what his name is and how to spell it. His attitude changes quickly.
Phil Goode
I don’t think you get it. Do you understanda the words thata coming outta my mouth?
An African American male by the name of Carter is applauding somewhere in the universe.
Phil Goode
(Now red in the face)
I said it’s “The First” GODDAMNIT. Do I have to make it any clearer for you?
(Condescending)
THE NUMBER 1 with S and T after it.
Hotel Manager
(Visibly offended)
Sir, I just showed you that there are no rooms under that name, is there anything else I can do fo-
Goode takes a step back and flares his nostrils. He looks at Greg Plus in disgust and contemplates using force on the man.
Phil Goode
How many FUCKING times do I have to say it!? My name is “The First” and the reservation is for “THE FIRST”!
Once again, Goode confides in Greg Plus with a quick glance.
Phil Goode
(Pointing at Greg)
GREG! GREG! GREG!
Goode is only a few inches away from Plus when screams his name.
Phil Goode
Tell this asshole what’s going on! You’re the one that set it up for me man.
Greg Plus
(Unfazed)
Yeah ok I’ll tell em. Step back for a second guy, relax.
Greg Plus gets closer to desk and tries to mediate the situation.
Greg Plus
(Trying to distract Goode)
Hey Philly, look over there!
Goode’s attention shifts away from the hotel manager and like a beautiful hairy dog, he speeds to the other side of the room.
Greg Plus
(Now speaking to the manager)
Ok guy, look. I fucked up on this one. I was supposed to stroke this kid’s ego and put the reservation under “The First” … but you know shit happens. I completely forgot about his request and what not… I’m a busy man. Just do me a favour… don’t break my nose for this little mishap, his name is Phil Goode. Make sure you spell Goode with an “E” at the end of it. This kid loves to drill that home.
The manager shakes his head and goes back to typing.
Hotel Manager
(Appreciative)
Oh wow. Look at that, he’s right here. Tanks a lot. He was getting a bit out of hand.
Greg Plus
(In agreement)
I can attest to that. You know what… how about later I buy you a drink for your troubles? I know how much of a narcissistic prick that guy can be. I can’t stand em most of the time to be honest.
Hotel Manager
(Hesitant)
I’ll be here all night because the storm; I can’t really drink on the job.
Greg Plus
Fuck the job. Don’t worry about it I got you.
Greg Plus gives the manager a wink and then grabs the key from the counter. He calls over Phil and he speeds back over to the desk.
Phil Goode
(Out of breath)
Hey asshole… did you… did you find my shit yet!?
Greg Plus reassures Goode that everything is alright.
Greg Plus
Philly! Relax! We are all goode man.
Hotel Manager
(More reassurance)
Yes Mr. Goode, we figured out the problem. You are all set, the room is ready.
Phil Goode
(Even more angry for some reason)
NA! FUCK ALLA THAT! I’m going to jump over that counter and kick your ass.
Just as he grabs the desk and tries to leap around it, the Commissioner and leader of the Austin Administration intervenes.
With both hands up and a look of incredulity on his face, Commissioner Austin grills the hotel manager before turning a look at Phil Goode, then looking back. Literally nothing was witnessed on his end; Stone Cold simply saw one of his being berated and naturally, it couldn't have been his fault. There'll be no disrespecting the Austin Administration in his vicinity, not without paying the price.
Commissioner Austin
(headbob on each syllable, speeding up for the last four words)
You sorry son-of-a-bitch!
Phil Goode's face lights up at the manager being disparaged.
Hotel Manager
I am very sorry sir, it was simply a misunderstanding of lan--
Commissioner Austin
Do you know who this is?! This wasn't no damn misunderstanding! This is The First! There wouldn't be no Alberta Wrestling Federation without the First! Bret wouldn't have had the balls! Would've gave in right there! It's 'cause of Phil Goode, you dumb bastard! It's because of the First!
The manager's second attempt to quell the newfound ordeal with Steve Austin is dashed off with instead of scared grumble as the commissioner has launched his body halfway over the desk, grabbed two handfuls of the man's suit, and pulled them nose-to-nose.
Commissioner Austin
And that stupid piece of garbage Bret may not get it yet but there ain't gonna ever be no Alberta Wrestling Federation without Stone Cold either! Just like this heap of trash you got the nerve to call a hotel wouldn't be making it out the next quarter without this storm and my good fucking business!
Remorseless, Stone Cold loosens his grip only to take both hands and plow the manager's head into the landline phone on the desk, immediately knocking the device from his steady positioning as well as shattering the nose of the innocent man. His head springs up, unconsciously slumping against the back of the seat he's in.
Commissioner Austin
This is my shit! You understand me you bastard?! All these sonsabitches is mine! It's All About Austin!
A finger clogging one nostril, it allows the stream of snot to fly from his nose onto the face of the manager, just prior to the man getting mushed in the face and knocked back so that the chair falls, he nearly breaks his neck, and is left pitifully without integrity on the carpeting.
Commissioner Austin
Dumb bastard.
Moving from the front desk where he leaves Phil Goode, Austin slithers away and through the crowd in the lobby, recruiting to his side his First Enforcer Batista and Brian Pillman Jr along the way through the AWF roster, pass the gangle of teenaged boys employed to the Hungarian establishment, and into the bar.
Searching through the audience, though the only interesting face he sees is Rockstar Spud’s who has made himself comfortable on a stool. Deciding that’ll be for a later date, he moves out of the bar where Dave signals to him Priscilla and Maeve at about ten o’clock, about to make their entry.
The trio moves in and like a militia begin to interact with the environment so as to create the human camouflage you might encounter in Assassin’s Creed. With that logic in play, the fact that these incredibly oddly dressed individuals in this random countryside Hungarian hotel are clearly depictable, they blend in just enough for their stalking not to be spotted.
As Priscilla wishes her friend goodbye, the Commissioner dispatches his comrades to either side of the bar as he himself trails behind her exit. Peaking around the corner, he just nearly gets spotted as she turns quickly to interact with the lady at the front desk, where she grabs a key and makes a fast beeline for the elevator. She punches on the metal of the door when she reads that it is out of order from a sign that looks about ten years aged, but is quick to find the stairway and moves through the doorway up the steps.
Stone Cold keeps behind her about fifteen the entire way, mixing into crowds, grabbing newspapers, and rubbing the head of a child (or was that another fucking midget?), all the while until she’s at the stairs. From there, he keeps away at least a staircase, having to move slowly anyway so as to not creak the old wood beneath his heavy weight.
He's pleased with his successful spy work, smiling that signature Austin smile to himself as he moves up the stairs as quietly as he can. A sudden creak below him, and his vision darts down, almost swearing at the creaky step below his boot. He sighs, before looking back up.
And there stands Priscilla Kelly, looking right at him.
Commissioner Austin
Sonuvabitch.
Priscilla Kelly
Can I help you baldy?
Commissioner Austin
Hell, lady, I can’t walk to my damn room? You got a problem with bald people? I know a lotta good bald brothers you sorry bastard.
Priscilla Kelly
Wow. Interesting how the route to your room happened to be the exact way I was going, all the way from the bar too. You were being real sneaky Steve, but you reek of your shitty fucking IPA. I could smell you a mile off.
Commissioner Austin
You might smellin’ your damn self.
Stone Cold pushes a shoulder past her without any effort to make light of their size difference, stomping three steps up, if only to gain the high ground within his own demented mind.
Commissioner Austin
(with that Stone Cold grimace and headbob)
And you call yourself a champion. Since I got you in my sights, I might as well make it clear. ‘Cause hell, if Stone Cold wanted to, I could stomp a mudhole in ya right here, ain’t no Prince Charming, no damn Whopper Deluxe, no Elephant Man -- nothin’ but a man’s man, a champion’s champion…
A nasty spit down the staircase and a slight lean in.
Commissioner Austin
And a woman.
A fast back away before she can send the slap he deserves. No slap comes though, she just continues to glare at him, eyebrows raised slightly.
Commissioner Austin
But I’m not done with you. No, not yet -- not by a longshot! All ya gots to do is sit back and watch.
(An angry finger as the look on her face is unwavering)
Look at ya! A disgrace! To this industry, to everything it stands for! And that’s ‘cause Austin said so, and if Austin gots to drop that disgrace off the face of this earth his damn self, well then so be it!
His face red, the vein in his neck bulging, he calms himself with that slimy smile.
Commissioner Austin
If that lanky bastard don’t get to ya first.
Priscilla ponders on his words, before nodding her head, as she slowly moves up the steps until she's next to him, on his level. Finally, she exhales, and lets out a small and mocking smile.
Priscilla Kelly
Holy shit was it hard staying horny through all that. Looking at you, going off, spit flying everywhere. Jeez, what an arousal killer. Poor fucking Debra. But! I'm glad I somehow reached down deep and managed it, cos I'm off to go get fucked. Thanks for wasting around a minute of my time, Commish.
Priscilla playfully fist bumps Austin on the shoulder, winks at him, then moves past him up the steps. She gives him one last look as she reaches the top of the staircase.
Priscilla Kelly
You can't touch me, fuckhead.
And Priscilla is gone from his line of view, as she continues to skip down the hallway ahead of her, ready for the shag that awaits.
He remains one foot on each step in his gaze of her line of view. That smile diminishes as he seethes, the levels of what might surely be the Harlot’s Hell aligning in his mind.
FADE TO COMMERCIAL
RETURNING FADE
Orange is slowly walking back to his room from the lobby after the meeting. His movements seem slower than usual, like he is in constant pain.
Fire Ant
RAGING DEAD WAS AN ASSHOLE.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Yup
Fire Ant
YOU TWO NEVER GOT ALONG.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Yup.
Orange approaches an elevator and presses the up button.
Fire Ant
AND HE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU ONCE.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Yup.
Orange enters the elevator, presses the button for the seventh floor and stands there in relative silence except for the elevator music. The door opens and he makes his way down the hall.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Nobody deserves to die young.
Fire Ant
YUP.
Orange walks up to his room and scans his card to open the door. Turning the handle and pushing the door in, he makes a bolt across the unlit room to his bags. Rummaging through them he takes out a bottle of ibuprofen and opens it up only to find it empty. He pulls out another bottle, but has the same luck. He sighs.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
I know I’ve asked this already, but can you please stop screaming.
Fire Ant
I TOLD YOU I FEEL LIKE I’M DROWNING AND FLYING. WHATEVER THE BONE MAN DID TO YOU REALLY FUCKED SOMETHING UP!
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
Alright, then can you try not to talk?I let you have your fun with Homunculus, can you just let me rest?
Fire Ant
I’LL TRY MY BEST!
With that Orange gets off the floor, puts his bags to the side and lays on the bed. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
After an unknown amount of time he hears the handle turn and someone enters the room. He is awake, but he does not open his eyes.
Orange Cassidy’s Internal Monologue
It’s probably Chuck or Trent, I gave them my extra key.
He hears the slow creep of footsteps over to his bed, as suddenly he feels the presence of someone next to him. Could it still be Chuck or Trent? The sudden hand on his dick in that moment confirms not… well, hopefully not.
He feels lips bite his ear, and then a soft, sexy whisper.
Priscilla Kelly
Heya Juice Daddy.
OC opens his eyes, and turns his head slightly to be met with the piercing blues of Priscilla Kelly. She suddenly moves so she's on top of him, straddling him. She sees her reflection in his Aviators.
Priscilla Kelly
God I look hot.
She starts to pose, before giggling, and gesturing to the glasses.
Priscilla Kelly
Are we keeping those on?
Orange shrugs.
Priscilla Kelly
Alright, Aviators can stay on… but the trousers aren't.
Priscilla looks to giddily take off OC's belt, until he reaches out and softly grabs her hand in his to stop her. She looks up at him, wide-eyed and confused.
Orange Cassidy
My head is killing me from the show still, can we not do this right now?
Priscilla looks up at him for a few seconds, before visible disappointment hits her face and she sighs. She sits up on the bed, and pats her legs.
Priscilla Kelly
Okayyyyy…
She exhales loudly.
Priscilla Kelly
Whatever you say Cap'n!
She looks around the room awkwardly, not really meeting OC's eyes. He sits up, as to not make her feel awkward.
Orange Cassidy
Sorry, one stomp from Boneius and I was out cold, I think I might have a concussion. You ok?
Priscilla Kelly
I know. I wish you told me you were going out there… I would've gone out with you. Same with Alaric. The pair of you just fucking ran out there! Since when did you care so much about that Bone-head mother fucker?
Orange Cassidy
I don’t, but we all saw him kill a man. Couldn’t stand to think what would have happened if no one tried to stop him. He killed a man for no reason, can you imagine being so evil that’s how you operate?
Priscilla definitely doesn't look at OC now, her head almost turned entirely in the other direction so he can't see the 'yikes' expression on her face. She continues talking, still face away.
Priscilla Kelly
Look! All I'm saying is! If you told me, I would've got Doggy, and S2, and every fuckface on my payroll to head down to that ring, and fuck him up. There would've been no headache then! And we could fuck!
Orange puts his arms around her from behind and pulls her down so they are both laying on the bed, with her in his arms.
Orange Cassidy
Why didn’t you send them out anyway? Or come out yourself?
Priscilla lingers on this for a few moments. She opts to go a different route.
Priscilla Kelly
Why haven't we fucked yet?
Priscilla turns around in his arms, until she's facing him, eyes looking deeply into one another, noses prodding together. Orange can smell the liquor on her breath.
Priscilla Kelly
Is it really small?
Priscilla giggles. Orange does one of those laughs that’s just blowing air out of your nose.
Orange Cassidy
I don’t think so, but the time has never been right. At your party you were too drunk, at my place you were too drunk and now you’re drunk and I’m concussed. What’s the rush anyway?
Priscilla Kelly
There's no rush. I just really really REALLY wanna fuck you. Like, a lot. I don't know if you've noticed Orange… but I kinda like sex.
Priscilla chuckles.
Priscilla Kelly
But you're right. Time hasn't been right. I have told everyone we've already fucked though so… hope you don't mind.
Orange Cassidy
That’s fine, do what you have to to keep face. I forgot to ask, how was the waitress?
Priscilla Kelly
Loud. Very loud. But then, I tend to bring that out of people.
Priscilla's eyes move from Orange to the door of the room, then dart back to his face.
Priscilla Kelly
If we're not fucking, how about we do a bit of exploring? I'm sure we can find something for your head somewhere in this hotel? And if not, I'll have Cranston risk getting struck by lightning to pop to the nearest pharmacy.
Orange places a small kiss on her nose.
Orange Cassidy
Sounds good, I’m a little low on ibuprofen.
Fire Ant
A LITTLE LOW?! YOU’VE GONE THROUGH 100 IN 48 HOURS! HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD?
Orange Cassidy
(Under his breath)
Shut up!
Priscilla Kelly
Ummm.... did you just tell yourself to shut up?
Orange Cassidy
.... Say, when we’re exploring, why don’t you introduce me to your friends, you know mine. It’s only fair.
Priscilla Kelly
Oh… well! If you insist I'd be happy to. Maeve's in the bar right now. You met Maeve? Asian girl. Huge Ass. She's lovely.
Orange Cassidy
Sure?
Fire Ant
SMOOTH.
Priscilla Kelly
Alright, let's go!
Priscilla is on her feet, hands locked with OC's as to yank him off of the bed til he's standing next to her. She grabs his head, lays a huge kiss on him, and then pulls him with her towards the door and out of the room.
CROSS-DISSOLVE
Ruxx Rampede has sat Homunculus down on a chair in a room I guess. Black Clyde watches, hoping his knowledge of physical training can somehow help.
Ruxx Rampede
So Raging Dead was our colleague, you were in a match him two weeks ago.
Big Homunculus
Did I beat him?
Ruxx Rampede
Naw he was your motherfuckin' teammate.
Big Homunculus
He's one of us? And he's dead. But we're both right here which means...Black Clyde is dead!?
Black Clyde
Right next to you, buddy.
Ruxx Rampede
What the, what? No the dude's name was Raging Dead, he was a big deal and shit. Long ass grey hair and shit, his bones were always hurtin and shit. He got buried alive. Which I guess saved them on funeral costs.
Big Homunculus
Raging Dead is a name of a man.
Ruxx Rampede
Was, yeah.
Big Homunculus
And he is no longer Raging?
Ruxx Rampede
That's one way to put it, brother.
Big Homunculus
Sorry I took so long to understand this, my brain is full of fog and thoughts that confuse and anger me and it is rendering my usually excellent cognitive powers relatively blunt.
Ruxx Rampede
No problem.
Big Homunculus
Now I would like to meet this, "Raging Dead", is he in the hotel?
Ruxx launches a table in a wall in frustration.
He looks at Black Clyde.
Ruxx Rampede
Our boy's got a lot on his mind, we might be here a while, don't let us distract you from your soda pop, I know you were excited to try european soda.
The door to the room is BLASTED open with great velocity.
Jerome Hathersage enters.
Ruxx Rampede/Big Homunculus/Black Clyde
Jerome in the motherfuckin' house now!
Jerome Hathersage goes to his good friends Ruxx and H first and has a conversation of a couple of hours with each of them before turning to Clyde.
Jerome Hathersage
You have a fancy European soda, Clyde?
Black Clyde
I do, I do. Come on I'll leave Ruxx to it, I don't think my advice on deadlift form is helpful in this situation.
Clyde and Jerome Hathersage walk into the lobby.
Black Clyde
I got a can of "San Pellegrino".
Jerome Hathersage
That sounds European as fuck.
Black Clyde
You haven't heard the best part.
Jerome Hathersage
I'm listening.
Black Clyde
The flavour is "blood orange".
Jerome Hathersage
Blood orange? Now I'm excited, I can't imagine how you feel!
Black Clyde
Honestly man I'm so happy I can't wait to try it, I'm so happy I have a good friend to be here with me when it happens.
Jerome Hathersage
I feel that, where is it?
Black Clyde
I left it right....
Black Clyde gestures to a table with nothing but a ring of moisture the diameter of a can on it.
Black Clyde
...here.
Jerome Hathersage looks at his good friend with concern on his face, as the worst thing possible seems to have happened.
Jerome Hathersage
Shall I get Ruxx and Big H?
Black Clyde
No! No, they have enough to deal with. I-I...
Clyde is ruffled and his eyes dart around, he charges for the entrance to the Hotel.
Jerome Hathersage
No! The wind is too ferocious!
Clyde flings himself through the door and strong, bitter winds immediately blast him backwards through several walls of the hotel. A Clyde shaped hole is in the walls of several consecutive rooms. In one of the rooms an attractive woman covers an old man in rashers of raw bacon, in another a monk uses sheer self control to channel the tao and raise his temperature until he becomes a gas, but that doesn't matter to Clyde (or anybody really which is mental given what an amazing physical and metaphysical feat it really is) who crawls out of the carnage.
Black Clyde
I cannot run from this.
Jerome Hathersage
We can find your blood orange San Pellegrino! We can do it!
Black Clyde
I told him to train his rear delts! I Gave him workout plans that would target his rear delts and he just didn't listen! and now he's dead!
Jerome Hathersage
What-
Black Clyde
Raging Dead, man, I warned him about the dangers of neglecting posterior shoulder strength. I warned him and if he'd just done more rowing movements he'd undoubtedly still be here.
Jerome Hathersage puts his hand on Clyde's shoulder.
Jerome Hathersage
Black, I'm your good friend and I can only be honest with you, you're using Raging Dead's death as a coping mechanism to distract yourself from losing your can of upscale carbonated drink. I get it. I did a lot of gambling after my hamsters exploded, and it taught me that you have to focus on what hurts most. You've lost your blood orange San Pellegrino, but it's ok, we can still find it.
Clyde chokes back tears.
Black Clyde
Damn am I lucky to have a good friend like you, Jerome Hathersage.
Jerome Hathersage
Hey check this out.
Renowned strong men Eddie Hall and Brian Shaw emerge from a corridor.
Due to their width they don't have much space between them and seem to have got into an argument.
Eddie Hall
Why'd you just touch my hand you lanky fucker? I'm fuckin' married!
Brian Shaw
Hey man you need to back off because you touched my hand.
Eddie Hall
Don't start making shit up like Hafthor. You're better than that big prick. What are we gonna tell the wives?
Brian Shaw
Before we tell them anything, are we sure that touching hands made us gay.
Eddie Hall
Fuck's sakes, I wish we had some guidance. Hey! Fuckin' hell that's my good friend Jerome Hathersage!
Brian Shaw
You're good friend Jerome Hathersage? He's MY good-
Eddie Hall
Yeah he's your good friend too, I get it. Hey Jerome! Help us settle this please.
Jerome and Clyde approach the two strong men. Shaw seems to recognise Clyde and gets his phone out.
Brian Shaw
Hey, is this you? Did you leave this under a video of me throwing a keg into the sky?
Black Clyde
Sure is, offer still stands.
Brian Shaw
Thank you, sir!
Eddie Hall
Listen lads, we've got a serious fuckin' problem. The corridors to this here hotel are weirdly narrow, and me and Brian just touched hands. We've got wives at home and need to know, does this make us gay?
Jerome Hathersage looks to Clyde for guidance and Clyde sighs a pained sigh.
Black Clyde
This is one of those conundrums I simply can't answer. I'm always learning, but when you're always learning that means you don't know everything.
Brian Shaw
God darn it I'm just gonna call her and divorce her.
Black Clyde
Not so fast. There is a man who can help you.
Eddie Hall
We must go to him. I know it'll be risky but I've got do it, for me wife as well as for me.
Brian Shaw
Eddie's right, we'll do whatever it takes. Much like being gay, this isn't a choice.
CUT TO
The roof of the hotel is being brutally battered by the storm. A black fist penetrates the roof from within, like Jerome Hathersage penetrating Rank Honway, through the hole created by the fist, Jerome, Eddie, Brian and Black climb out on the roof. They're immediately blasted by the storm, however have attached themselves to the inside of the hotel via chains.
Black Clyde looks to the sky and screams over the lashing wind and rain.
Black Clyde
THE WALKING DEAD!!! OKJA!!!! SORRY TO BOTHER YOU!!!! MAYHEM!!!! IN THE NAME OF YAHWEH AND THE PAPACY I BESEECH THEE LORD YEUN, IN THESE MEN'S MOMENT OF NEED PLEASE COME TO US!!!!
For the men present, and for them alone, the wind ceases and the rain is no more. The sun has not come out but from the darkness of the clouds come heavenly rays which radiate divinity and pureness of intent. The energy of the rays fizz together as the concentrated, supernatural power of love manifest themselves in their human form: Steven Yeun.
Clyde and co are suddenly enveloped in something that can be described only as peace.
Eddie Hall
Mate, listen, we've got something you need to help us-
Steven raises his hand gently with a smile and Eddie stops. Steven's benevolent gaze tells everyone that he requires no explanation, he already knows.
Brian and Eddie look uncomfortable but then make eye contact with each other and it all makes sense.
Brian Shaw
I think, always, I think deep down maybe we both...maybe my subconscious knew and that's why I brushed your hand and-
Eddie puts his finger on Brian's lips. They both smile.
Eddie turns to Steven.
Eddie Hall
Thank you, now if you don't mind, we have some calls to make.
Steven nods and Eddie and Brian suddenly disappear.
Black Clyde looks around and Jerome Hathersage is gone too.
Black Clyde
Wh-why am I still here, how do I get back to the hotel?
Steven Yeun
They found what they were looking for, I gave them the peace they needed. You still want. You still desire. You are still troubled.
Black Clyde
A colleague of mine...passed away recently and it's-
Steven tilts his head and smiles. There really is no point lying to him.
Black Clyde
Jerome was right, I'm just deflecting. There was, a can of carbonated drink. It's called San Pellegrino, the flavour was blood orange. I've never had anything like it before in my life, but when in Europe, y'know?
Steven nods, knowingly.
Black Clyde
I was just so goddamn excited, and I'd do anything to get it back. To know how to get it back. Can you help me.
Steven Yeun
Until I've helped you, neither of us can go back.
Black Clyde nods.
Steven Yeun
The can is unlikely to have moved itself. You've lived long without San Pellegrino, but ask yourself, who out there would feel naked, weak, without a can of carbonated drink?
Steven smiles and the lights start to blur, Clyde feels the wind and the rain hitting his face and he feels himself being thrown through the air, a mere passenger in the grasp of the wind until suddenly he's on his back in a corridor of the hotel. He's spread eagle on the floor looking up at a poster on the wall of the corridor. The poster is of Steve Austin giving his iconic beer smashing celebration, a can in each hand. Next to him on the poster are Pillman and Batista. Clyde stares at the cans in Austin's hands.
The cyborg eye suddenly glows brighter than it ever has and Clyde rise to his feet without even bending any limbs. He's face to face with the version of Austin on the poster and his fists furiously pound on the Batista and Pillman behind him with robotic drive until he's pounded straight through the wall behind the poster. His cyborg eye glows so brightly, his head pressed against Austin's, that it starts to burn Austin's face.
Black Clyde
YOU TOOK IT ALL FROM ME. BATISTA YOU'RE A FAT SLOB WITH A POOR PHYSIQUE AND PILLMAN I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT I WILL PURSUE MY BLOOD ORANGE SAN PELLEGRINO TO THE END OF THE EARTH, SO IF IT NO LONGER EXISTS THEN I'LL NEVER FIND, AND I'LL JUST HAVE TO BEAT YOU DOWN FOR THE REST OF MY LIIIIIIIIFE.
Black Clyde turns and sprints powerfully down the corridor and right past a vending machine filled with many beverages, blood orange San Pellegrino included.
CROSS-DISSOLVE
We're in a hotel room a few floors up, empty save for two individuals sat on the floor, Beefton Maguire and Lucas Carlos. On a little table sat between Beefton and Lucas, sits a Connect Four game. Lucas has is eyebrow raised at Beefton, who looks like his brain is about to explode as he concentrates hard on the game, looking where to put his next yellow piece. Lucas scans over all of the best spots for Beefton to go right now, but Beefton opts to go with none of them, instead putting his next piece in a random spot off to the side that aids no progress whatsoever.
Lucas gives his head a little shake, in somewhat disbelief, before he opts to finally finish the game off, and puts his red counter in one of the four places he could've to win the game. Beefton doesn't realise right away Lucas has won, but when he does, he sits back, incredibly impressed.
Beefton
Woah! You snuck that one up on me didn't ya!
Lucas
Well…
Beefton
You are a talented little dude! No wonder Priscilla likes you so much!
Lucas' face lights up.
Lucas
She does?
Beefton
Well, that's what Maeve told me.
Lucas
Cool.
Lucas tries to play it cool, but can't put an end to the huge grin on his face. Beefton tilts his head a little, looking inquisitively at Lucas' beaming smile.
Beefton
You fancy Priscilla.
Lucas' smile does drop now, his gaze shooting to Beefton.
Lucas
What!? NO!!! No I don't!!!
Beefton
Yes you do! Lucas fancies Priscilla! Lucas fancies Priscilla!
Lucas
NO!!! NO!!!
Beefton
Lucas and Priscilla! Sitting in a tree! K…
Beefton is already lost in thought, trying to think of the next letter. He looks at Lucas for help.
Beefton
It's definitely I right?
Lucas
I don't fancy Auntie Priscilla!
Beefton
It's okay if you do little buddy! I fucking do, Priscilla is hot as shit! If I was your age living with a woman like that… wowzers! Boner City! Puberty would just like, force its way through real early you know!
Lucas
I don't understand most of what you just said… but okay. Maybe I like her a little. Maybe a lot.
Lucas sighs an enamoured sigh, his eyes going glazed, and a smile swimming back onto his face as his thoughts go to the sight of Priscilla once more.
Lucas
She's just… amazing.
Beefton
Damn, real smitten ain't ya. I know the feeling buddy, there's a girl I feel that way about too… but I have about as much a chance as you do.
Lucas
You don't think I have a chance!?
Beefton
What? Well… you're like 10 right?
Lucas
I'm just over a year away from turning 14!
Beefton
Oh… well, that's still pretty young. I think you'd maybe have to give it a few years 'til she'd look your way little buddy.
Lucas
Oh.
Lucas looks deflated, looking down at his feet sadly. Beefton nods slowly, before moving around the little table and the Connect Four board and putting an arm over Lucas' shoulders.
Beefton
You'll be okay buddy. The world of love is a cruel one, let me tell ya.
Lucas
Why don't you have a chance with your girl?
Beefton pulls a face.
Beefton
Maybe I never did… but either way I certainly don't now. We were on a date and it was going great and then… I honestly don't know what happened. I took a bite into my chicken burger and suddenly like, I just lost control of my body. And my mind. And my cock and balls.
Lucas
Oh.
Beefton
I ended up acting like a real dickhead… really upset her. I don't understand it… never experienced anything like it. Like I was a different dude, and the absolute only shit I cared about was banging… didn't even care who. Love just fucked off right out the window.
Lucas
A chicken burger did that?
Beefton
Seems so. Ain't having one again.
Lucas
Me either.
Beefton
Maeve deserves better than that shit.
Lucas
It's Maeve!?
Beefton
Oh. Umm- yeah.
Lucas
Maeve's really sweet.
Beefton
She sure is. Real sweet. I just want to show her that. I want her to have every bit of happiness she deserves… more than I want my own happiness. Maybe that's the lesson here… maybe I'm just not a guy who can make her happy? Maybe I'm not as good of a guy as I thought? Maybe I have to back off so she can end up with a guy who is good, and actually can make her happy?
Beefton looks defeated, but nods as he thinks this is an understandable conclusion to have come to.
Beefton
Yeah… maybe.
Lucas looks up at this defeated man sadly, not understanding his plight, or being old enough to even register it, but understanding that the man before him is deeply troubled. The door to the room opens up, and in steps Cranston.
Cranston
Hey Beefy, I'm just gonna relax tonight, get some TV on, so I'll watch the kid. Go have fun.
Beefton
Oh! You sure Cranston? I don't mind! He's good company.
Cranston
Yeah, I'm feeling a little under the weather, go get yourself out there. Have fun.
Lucas looks from Cranston up to Beefton, who's nodding slowly.
Beefton
That alright with you little buddy?
Lucas
Umm- yeah. Yeah I guess. Maybe, go find Maeve? Tell her what you told me?
Beefton
Umm… I'll try.
Beefton stands up.
Beefton
Was fun chatting kiddo, I'll see you around! Good luck with your crush!
Lucas goes red-faced as he looks up at Cranston, who looks rather indifferent as he moves over to the bed and lays down on it. Beefton gives Lucas one last little wink before he moves out of the room. Lucas gulps as he turns to Cranston.
Lucas
He was- he was kidding! I don't have a crush! It's not on Priscilla!
Cranston just lays on the bed, turned away from Lucas, as he grabs the remote and turns on the TV.
Cranston
Don't care kid.
There's a pause. Lucas watches as Cranston flicks the channel over to Downton Abbey, and relaxes on the bed watching it. Lucas clears his throat.
Lucas
Do you want to play some Connect Four?
Cranston
Nope.
Cranston doesn't even look at Lucas, his eyes resting on the TV. Lucas just turns back to his game of Connect Four before him, sighs, and lays back on the floor, as he looks up at the plain white ceiling.
CROSS-DISSOLVE INTO THE ARENA
Ecstatic at the theme of one their favorites, Berlin is to their feet on the first drum and all holding their signs and foam limp-thumbs-up by the time Orange Cassidy comes onto the staged pocketed. He matches the foam fingers with the classic pose before beginning his slow descent down the ramp.
Mark Beverly: The following contest, set for one fall, is a semi-final match in the one-night tournament to determine who will challenge Rockstar Spud next week for the Alberta Wrestling Federation Provincial Championship! Introducing first, representing Best Friends: ORANGE! CASSIDY!
Orange’s nostrils flare as a fan near the steel steps manages to repeatedly pat his back, but it doesn’t interrupt his walk up them and his entry into the ring. In the center, the thumbs-up is offered yet again.
Indeed it takes a second for Germany to come to realize who was now emerging, but as the titantron video confirms it, they become under a small furor. Alaric Dracislav seems somewhat taken aback by the response as he enters onto the stage, but doesn’t let the shock show for long, turning a grimace on and stomping down the ramp.
Mark Beverly: And from Guildford, England, weighing two hundred forty pounds: ALARIC! DRACISLAV!
Orange’s gaze is to his All Stars until in his periphery he catches the vampire roll underneath the bottom rope. In that moment, in a flash of his mind nearly like a That’s So Raven vision he finds himself cast back to PrimeTime VI, an identical figure to the one that’s just entered his vicinity biting a piece of his neck out.
Referee Filipe Santana notices the fast first step and signals for the bell.
Ding!
In an instant Cassidy’s toppled Dracislav to the mat with a Lou Thesz press! Going away now with fists and forearms, whatever will land around the guards and blocks!
Cassidy’s off the body then the ropes, but Dracislav rolls to his belly to force a hop over! Alaric’s quick to his feet and meets a second Orange rebound with a stiff clothesline that keeps the man on his back!
Dracislav pulls at the hair, but a flurry of fists to the gut loosens the grip once Orange is to his feet.
Orange with an Irish whip -- no, Dracislav’s strength dominates the exchange, allowing a counter pushing to the other set! Cassidy’s back -- BACKDROP! Textbook delivery by Dracislav!
Driving a knee in the spine and pulling on the chin, Alaric’s wrenching is soon beat out by a lucha-style rise and snapmare from Orange! Alaric rolls from his back to his own seated position only, trying to catch control of the situation only to get two feet to the back of the head!
Laying on his back, Dracislav is prone for Cassidy who double springboards (middle rope laddering up in a leap to the top) back: LIONSAULT!
KNEES UP! ORANGE EATS THE KNEES!
Squirming does nothing for him but put him right back in Dracislav’s grasp, who puts him into a fireman’s carry -- DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!
Jim Ross: Hook of the outside leg!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.......
TWO!....
KICKOUT
A seated position from the kickout results in Cassidy in Dracislav’s grounded submission grasp yet again, this time a side headlock from a single-knee position.
Jim Ross: Quick turnaround from OC with that back suplex! All in the technique, that one, exploding from the knees. Shoots the half!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Alaric’s to his knees but Orange is off the ropes -- shining wizard! This time he hooks the leg!
Filipe Santana: ONE!....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Dracislav is much slower in his movements this time, allowing Cassidy to take advantage of the positioning to ride his body into a front headlock, quickly dragging into DDT position! Slaps the back! Drops hi-- Alaric with the northern lights suplex! Bridges into a textbook cover!
Filipe Santana: ONE!....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Both men up! Dracislav: BICYCLE KNEE STRIKE TO THE JAW! DROPS CASSIDY TO HIS BACK!
Jim Ross: By god that knocked him silly! Could shatter a jaw with that one!
Deciding on a follow-up, Alaric’s off the ropes and back down across the neck with a leg drop! He gets into a fast leghook!
Filipe Santana: ONE!......
TWO….
KICKOUT
Cassidy’s groggily coming to his knees then to his feet, all the while Alaric stalks and waits prior to rebounding off the ropes for better momentum in his swinging neckbreaker! Another hook of the leg!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.....
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Combing the hair as he walks to a corner and drops into an athletic position, once again keeping a close eye on Cassidy who takes a much longer time to rise to his feet than the last occasion. Even more groggy than last time, he’s even more of a prime target for Dracislav’s charge -- BASEMENT DROPKICK! ORANGE CATCHES THE KNEE! ALARIC’S SPRUNG FACE FIRST INTO THE MIDDLE TURNBUCKLE! CASSIDY GRABS HIS THIGH AND PULLS HIM DOWN: CLASSIC SCHOOLBOY!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.....
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Just barely! Both men to their feet! Alaric with a wild swinging lariat that’s caught by Cassidy who turns it into a swinging neckbreaker of his own-- NO! Dracislav swings it another 360° into a full nelson into a quick adjustment -- SLAM! Shoots the half!
Filipe Santana: ONE!...
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Dracislav stalks from behind yet again, awaiting the rise of Cassidy who’s got his back to him! It’s perfect positioning! He sees the chance!
BACKSTABBER!
THE FINISHER!
WAIT NO! AS THE BACK DROPS, CASSIDY SHOVES OFF THE GRIP! GRABS THE LEGS IN THE AIR! JUMPS BACKWARDS AND IT’S A ROLL UP! HE’S GOT HIM FOLDED UP!
Filipe Santana: ONE!....
TWO!......
THREE!
DING DING DING
Cassidy pops up and off the man, but when he catches a look at the exasperated look the vampire gives him, Freshly Squeezed lets loose a running kick to the face that drops Dracislav out on the mat. His music cuts immediately, and the referee pulls and pushes him back and towards the ropes. Uncharacteristically, a visibly unsettled gaze is stuck on Alaric as he exits the ring to the arena floor, only once there putting his hands in his pockets, taking a deep breathe and moving away.
Mark Beverly: The winner of this match, moving to tonight’s final: ORANGE! CASSIDY!
With that, the music fades back in as Cassidy ducks his head and walks upwards on the ramp.
Orange Cassidy d. Alaric Dracislav in 6:04
FADE OUT
SHOW CONTINUES ON THE NEXT POST
CROSS-DISSOLVE INTO THE ARENA
Ecstatic at the theme of one their favorites, Berlin is to their feet on the first drum and all holding their signs and foam limp-thumbs-up by the time Orange Cassidy comes onto the staged pocketed. He matches the foam fingers with the classic pose before beginning his slow descent down the ramp.
Mark Beverly: The following contest, set for one fall, is a semi-final match in the one-night tournament to determine who will challenge Rockstar Spud next week for the Alberta Wrestling Federation Provincial Championship! Introducing first, representing Best Friends: ORANGE! CASSIDY!
Orange’s nostrils flare as a fan near the steel steps manages to repeatedly pat his back, but it doesn’t interrupt his walk up them and his entry into the ring. In the center, the thumbs-up is offered yet again.
Indeed it takes a second for Germany to come to realize who was now emerging, but as the titantron video confirms it, they become under a small furor. Alaric Dracislav seems somewhat taken aback by the response as he enters onto the stage, but doesn’t let the shock show for long, turning a grimace on and stomping down the ramp.
Mark Beverly: And from Guildford, England, weighing two hundred forty pounds: ALARIC! DRACISLAV!
Orange’s gaze is to his All Stars until in his periphery he catches the vampire roll underneath the bottom rope. In that moment, in a flash of his mind nearly like a That’s So Raven vision he finds himself cast back to PrimeTime VI, an identical figure to the one that’s just entered his vicinity biting a piece of his neck out.
Referee Filipe Santana notices the fast first step and signals for the bell.
Ding!
In an instant Cassidy’s toppled Dracislav to the mat with a Lou Thesz press! Going away now with fists and forearms, whatever will land around the guards and blocks!
Cassidy’s off the body then the ropes, but Dracislav rolls to his belly to force a hop over! Alaric’s quick to his feet and meets a second Orange rebound with a stiff clothesline that keeps the man on his back!
Dracislav pulls at the hair, but a flurry of fists to the gut loosens the grip once Orange is to his feet.
Orange with an Irish whip -- no, Dracislav’s strength dominates the exchange, allowing a counter pushing to the other set! Cassidy’s back -- BACKDROP! Textbook delivery by Dracislav!
Driving a knee in the spine and pulling on the chin, Alaric’s wrenching is soon beat out by a lucha-style rise and snapmare from Orange! Alaric rolls from his back to his own seated position only, trying to catch control of the situation only to get two feet to the back of the head!
Laying on his back, Dracislav is prone for Cassidy who double springboards (middle rope laddering up in a leap to the top) back: LIONSAULT!
KNEES UP! ORANGE EATS THE KNEES!
Squirming does nothing for him but put him right back in Dracislav’s grasp, who puts him into a fireman’s carry -- DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!
Jim Ross: Hook of the outside leg!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.......
TWO!....
KICKOUT
A seated position from the kickout results in Cassidy in Dracislav’s grounded submission grasp yet again, this time a side headlock from a single-knee position.
Jim Ross: Quick turnaround from OC with that back suplex! All in the technique, that one, exploding from the knees. Shoots the half!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Alaric’s to his knees but Orange is off the ropes -- shining wizard! This time he hooks the leg!
Filipe Santana: ONE!....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Dracislav is much slower in his movements this time, allowing Cassidy to take advantage of the positioning to ride his body into a front headlock, quickly dragging into DDT position! Slaps the back! Drops hi-- Alaric with the northern lights suplex! Bridges into a textbook cover!
Filipe Santana: ONE!....
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Both men up! Dracislav: BICYCLE KNEE STRIKE TO THE JAW! DROPS CASSIDY TO HIS BACK!
Jim Ross: By god that knocked him silly! Could shatter a jaw with that one!
Deciding on a follow-up, Alaric’s off the ropes and back down across the neck with a leg drop! He gets into a fast leghook!
Filipe Santana: ONE!......
TWO….
KICKOUT
Cassidy’s groggily coming to his knees then to his feet, all the while Alaric stalks and waits prior to rebounding off the ropes for better momentum in his swinging neckbreaker! Another hook of the leg!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.....
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Combing the hair as he walks to a corner and drops into an athletic position, once again keeping a close eye on Cassidy who takes a much longer time to rise to his feet than the last occasion. Even more groggy than last time, he’s even more of a prime target for Dracislav’s charge -- BASEMENT DROPKICK! ORANGE CATCHES THE KNEE! ALARIC’S SPRUNG FACE FIRST INTO THE MIDDLE TURNBUCKLE! CASSIDY GRABS HIS THIGH AND PULLS HIM DOWN: CLASSIC SCHOOLBOY!
Filipe Santana: ONE!.....
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Just barely! Both men to their feet! Alaric with a wild swinging lariat that’s caught by Cassidy who turns it into a swinging neckbreaker of his own-- NO! Dracislav swings it another 360° into a full nelson into a quick adjustment -- SLAM! Shoots the half!
Filipe Santana: ONE!...
TWO!....
KICKOUT
Dracislav stalks from behind yet again, awaiting the rise of Cassidy who’s got his back to him! It’s perfect positioning! He sees the chance!
BACKSTABBER!
THE FINISHER!
WAIT NO! AS THE BACK DROPS, CASSIDY SHOVES OFF THE GRIP! GRABS THE LEGS IN THE AIR! JUMPS BACKWARDS AND IT’S A ROLL UP! HE’S GOT HIM FOLDED UP!
Filipe Santana: ONE!....
TWO!......
THREE!
DING DING DING
Cassidy pops up and off the man, but when he catches a look at the exasperated look the vampire gives him, Freshly Squeezed lets loose a running kick to the face that drops Dracislav out on the mat. His music cuts immediately, and the referee pulls and pushes him back and towards the ropes. Uncharacteristically, a visibly unsettled gaze is stuck on Alaric as he exits the ring to the arena floor, only once there putting his hands in his pockets, taking a deep breathe and moving away.
Mark Beverly: The winner of this match, moving to tonight’s final: ORANGE! CASSIDY!
With that, the music fades back in as Cassidy ducks his head and walks upwards on the ramp.
Orange Cassidy d. Alaric Dracislav in 6:04
FADE OUT
SHOW CONTINUES ON THE NEXT POST