AGGRESSION 49: Five Man Scramble for Shot at Intercontinental Title

DBrunkGXW · Dec 5, 2009

Fusenshoff vs. Sean Edmunds vs. Copycat vs. Erik Black vs. Omega

Post all RP here.

TheOriginalSE · Dec 8, 2009

Give Us the Diligence... to search

(The room is dark. The room is silent. Reaching from the bottom of the camera’s shot, cutting up past the center of the lens, is the outline of a hand. CLICK. BZZZZT.. The light from the lamp pushes the darkness from the room, aside from the farthest corners.)

VOICE: “Jesus.”

(A sheet flies past the camera’s view.)

VOICE: “Motherfuc…”

(A glass shatters. The camera turns to see “Simply Sensational” Sean Edmunds sitting on the side of a bed looking down at a broken glass, water running from all angles away from the shards.)

EDMUNDS: “God dammit.”

(Edmunds pushes himself off the bed and walks to the dresser, stepping over the broken glass.)

EDMUNDS: “Make them bit’ches work for their $8.50 an hour.”

(From the look of the room, the cheesy wallpaper, the tube television, the god awful curtains, it seems as if Edmunds is in a hotel room. He walks past the camera, waving it out of his way, as he heads to the bathroom. He steps up to the toilet. The camera turns to follow and stops as Edmunds, standing with his back to the camera, relieves himself.)

EDMUNDS: “I had them right where I f*cking wanted them. The First and Fusenshoff were well on their way to god damned defeat. But no … I had to be the good teammate. ‘Don’t take all the glory, Sean. Let someone else taste it.’ …”

(Edmunds presumably shakes before finishing up, putting away, and flushing the toilet. He heads over to the sink and turns it on. After grabbing the cheap bar soap that all hotels give you and lathering his hands, he paces them under the water, quickly rubbing them together. He looks into the mirror back at the camera.)

EDMUNDS: “And what came of it? The First and Fusenshoff, two of the most sad … pathetic individuals in ALL of Empire Pro walk out of Aggression 48 with a win over me.”

(Edmunds shuts the faucet off and wipes his hands dry on a white handtowel. He walks past the camera once more and heads to the bed, plopping down on it, the handtowel still in his possession.)

EDMUNDS: “But it’s all right. Anthology taught the First and Fusenshoff what happens to little punks who get too big for their britches.”

(He swings the towel over his shoulder.)

EDMUNDS: “And here we go again.. Fusenshoff… what have you got yourself into, buddy? You want to try to embarrass me at Aggression … you want to f*ck over Anthology?”

(He pauses, shaking his head as he replays the events of the main event in his head..)

EDMUNDS: “Anthology is going to make its way back to the Intercontinental championship.. if not me .. then Copycat. If not Copycat, then me. There’s five men in this match… Anthology has a 40% chance starting off to walk out of Aggression 49 with a shot at Shawn Hart… but taking into account that those two men are myself and Copycat …. And taking into account that Shawn Hart will never …. EVER …. Be let off the hook for his blatant disrespect …. Those odds … well … Fuse … I can assure you that you can keep your bags packed in the lockerroom….”

(He squints, his upper lip slightly curling..)

EDMUNDS: “You’ve got a big ole’ target on your back…. Guilty… by association.”

(Edmunds grabs the handtowel and wipes his brow with it before tossing it in a pile of towels by the bathroom door. He walks over to an open duffel bag and starts pulling out some clothes.)

EDMUNDS: “Omega … Erik Black … I’m sorry you guys have been put in the middle of this whole mess… (he rolls his eyes) Well .. not really. You see, you guys are being thrown to the lions … the management here in Empire Pro wanted to give you guys a bone … something to wet your appetites … but they know that the only outcome .. (he stops for a second) the ONLY conceivable outcome of this match is that Anthology goes on to the inevitable…”

(He pulls a black t-shirt out of the bag and brings it to his nose, rating it on a scale of 1-10 on smell factor. Obviously it didn’t rank too high because he tosses it back down and goes back rummaging.)

EDMUNDS: “Let’s not kid ourselves, guys. You’ll come out here and talk the talk. I don’t doubt that. Hell, Erik, I’ve heard stories about you spouting off the entire catalogue of Shakespeare plays to a brick wall after you and Dopesmoker spent some quality time together … but save yourself the trouble. Save US the trouble of having to translate your ramblings.”

(He takes out another shirt, a light blue and white collared tee. Ranking considerably higher on the smell scale, he tosses it onto the ruffled covers and begins his search again, this time for pants.)

EDMUNDS: “And then we’ve got Omega … the so-called Craziest Bastard in Wrestling … (sighs) We’ve heard this before .. we’ve seen this before … but Omega, no matter what you do .. no matter how hard you try … when you step into the ring with Copycat and myself … the Craziest Bastard in wrestling will quickly turn into “Another Anthology Conquest.” Want to bet against us, Omega? You’d be throwing your money away…”

(Edmunds finds a pair of pants and tosses them next to the shirt. In one swift movement he takes his current shirt over his head and off his torso and drops it into the bag he was just going through.)

EDMUNDS: “You see.. Copycat and I aren’t just members of the most dominant force in Empire Pro today …. (his eyes suddenly light up) no, my friends …. Copycat and I are so much more…”

(He grabs the clothes off the bed and heads to the closet. Opening the door he sidesteps the ironing board as it falls to the floor. He looks at it, slightly surprised, but then again, not really, before bending down and picking it up.)

EDMUNDS: “Copycat and I …. We haven’t always been on the same team .. hell .. we have NEVER been on a team together before. For more than ten years Copycat and I have had battles. Aside from DADDY himself … if there were one man in the wrestling world today that I knew best in the squared circle …. Well it’d be Copycat. That’s what makes us dangerous, guys..”

(He sets the ironing board up and grabs the iron off the top shelf in the closet. He looks around the bottom of the wall for the power plug before finding it and plugging the iron in. Setting the iron to the right clothing option, he walks to his luggage once more.)

EDMUNDS: “Unlike HOPE .. that ragtag group of second-rate trash … Jared Wells … Copycat… myself … we know each other inside and out. We’ve battled. Against each other .. in Jared’s case, with each other, too … for more than a decade. It’s a knowledge that binds us … it’s a knowledge of one another that makes Anthology stronger than anything that Empire Pro can throw at us … and it’s a knowledge that makes Copycat and myself the ones who will be left standing in the ring after you all have been snuffed out.”

(He smiles as he zips the bag up and tosses it against the far wall.)

EDMUNDS: “I’m not going to come out here and say I am going to walk over Copycat to get the shot at Shawn Hart… If I win … If Copycat wins … it doesn’t matter. ANTHOLOGY wins in the end.”

(A puff of steam comes out of the top of the iron. Edmunds tosses the pants back on the bed and begins to flatten the shirt on top of the board.)

EDMUNDS: “But I will come out here .. after having a victory stolen from me … and say that this time .. Anthology will not be so forgiving.”

(Edmunds grabs the iron and places it next to the top of the shirt as he looks into the camera.)

EDMUNDS: “Empire Pro wants to label this a five man scramble … when the world knows that it truly is .. another Anthology coronation.”

(Edmunds hits the button and sprays steam out twice as he cracks a smile.)

EDMUNDS: “Don’t adjust your television sets…. I AM this Sensational…”

(The camera fades out.)

GARTHIsTheLaw · Dec 8, 2009

(Cueup: “Love Removal Machine” by the Cult)

(Fade in on what appears to be some sort of science lab. A long table with a few assorted vials and other pieces of equipment are set on it)

Copycat: I hope I removed all the identifying aspects of this room, because I sure don't want to get anyone fired.

(Copycat walks onscreen from stage right, clad in white lab coat and safety goggles with his hair tied back. He looks down at the equipment on the table, then up at the camera)

Copycat: When I heard about the latest exercise in match booking brilliance from our esteemed commissioner, at first, I wasn't too surprised. Basically every decision Lindsay Troy makes these days is directed at dragging down the Anthology, and this one seemed to fit the same pattern. Put five guys in a ring, knowing that only the two members of Anthology really matter. Eventually, Sean Edmunds and Copycat will have to face each other. And just to ensure each of them is motivated to win, put on the line a shot at the title taken from a worthless former member of Anthology by another worthless former member of Anthology. Then, sit back and wait for the two members of the greatest thing the wrestling industry has going for it right now to destroy each other. That those two particular members have spent more than 10 years trying to destroy each other makes the plan all the sweeter, I'm sure.

(He rolls his eyes)

Copycat: It's more subtle than forcing Jared Wells and Larry Tact to defend the EPW Tag Team Titles twice in one night, including one match against a pair of hired guns whose ineffectiveness in accomplishing their task was matched only by the money wasted on bringing them in. It's more subtle than reinstating Anarky from a series of fireable offenses for the sole purpose of getting one up on Anthology. It's even more subtle than wasting our beleaguered EPW fans' time by signing another pointless outing between the Cat and Anarky, which predictably ended with Anarky once again failing to best the Cat, like he always does when the sides are even. A prime example of the difference between Copycat and that tired angry-guy cliché that was, I might add; whilst I escaped Anarky's attempt to burn me with nary a singe, when the Cat got himself disqualified against Layne Winters a few Aggressions back, that tortured goofball of a wannabe martyr sure wasn't walking away from the ring with all his brain cells intact. His poor, abused brain cells.

(Copycat slides some equipment on the table in front of him – one unlabeled container filled with a clear liquid, one labeled container filled with a clear liquid and two empty containers)

Copycat: But in looking more closely at that decision of our commissioner's, I'm becoming less convinced that she really knew what she was doing. And who can blame her? A lot of minds as simple as hers were short-circuited when Anthology brought EPW World Heavyweight Champion Sean Stevens into the fold. We've all got our own reasons for that decision, of course, but it all adds up to the same thing: a move that rocked the very foundation of EPW and, indeed, of the wrestling business itself. Say what you will about the man – and remember, the Cat has been as harsh a critic of Stevens as anyone – there's no denying he knows how to get things done. And that's an ability that, sadly, Cameron Cruise has proven over and over in the past weeks and months that he lacks. If Cameron is as dedicated to Anthology as he claimed to be, he'll understand why we made the decision we made – just as I will understand should I fail to live up to the promises I made when I threw my lot in with Anthology.

(Copycat pulls one of the empty containers in front of him)

Copycat: I know what Lindsay Troy is going for in her latest effort to give GASP whatever it needs to combat the group that is making her less relevant by the day. She wants to do her part to weaken Anthology. And since putting us up against GASP and various and sundry other EPW jokers isn't getting the job done, she's thinking that putting Anthology members up against each other might succeed where all her other efforts have failed.

(He picks up the unlabeled container filled with clear liquid)

Copycat: This is water.

(He puts down the unlabeled container and picks up the labeled container filled with clear liquid)

Copycat: And this is sulfuric acid. Which is much easier to obtain than I had initially expected, I might add, though a man of my resources never has a whole lot of trouble getting his hands on any such material good.

(Copycat pours some water into the previously empty containers in front of him)

Copycat: The idea here is that forcing the Cat and Sean Edmunds to battle for the right to show Shawn Hart just how stupid he was to admit he wasn't up to the task Anthology had set before it will weaken the both of us. And as I mentioned earlier, I understand why Commissioner Troy thought that would be effective. After all, up until a few months ago, if you asked the Cat to name his most bitter rival of all time, he'd have told you “Sean Edmunds.” Sean and I have been on opposite sides of that ring since 1997, and that's a mighty long time – hundreds of times longer than most of the other members of the EPW roster can remember. Surely, if you put the Cat and Sean Edmunds in the ring along with some hapless interlopers, you'll hurt them both. Just as adding acid to water weakens the acid and makes the water undrinkable.

(Copycat carefully pours a small amount of the sulfuric acid into the open container to which the water was just added)

Copycat: But in doing this, our commissioner – and the GASP chumps for whom she's basically working these days – has overlooked that when you add two things together, you have to be careful how you do it.

(Copycat gently pushes the container in front of him aside)

Copycat: Anthology is an exercise in ego suppression. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Put all of us together in a room, and there'll be no space for our egos – so we check them at the door. The only reason the Cat can coexist alongside Sean Edmunds, alongside Jared Wells, alongside Larry Tact and, now, alongside Sean Stevens is because, as attached as we may be to our personal egos, we do not let them interfere with our mission: pulling this industry back from the brink to which it has been driven.

(He brings the remaining empty container in front of him)

Copycat: Neither Sean Edmunds nor I will let an Intercontinental Title shot divide Anthology, no matter how inclined we may be, after our years of history, to let it turn us against each other. And as such, what was supposed to be an exercise in weakening Anthology will instead turn into the slaughter of those poor fools Commissioner Troy saw fit to feed us. Sean Edmunds and the Cat will make an example of Fusenshoff, Erik Black and Omega. We will show once again that we are not to be trifled with, and we will show just what Shawn Hart – and the rest of GASP – has to fear from what they cluelessly expect to be an easy battle.

Copycat very carefully pours the remainder of the sulfuric acid into the empty container)

Copycat: And we will show Troy and the rest of those forces in EPW that would seek to destroy us that attempting to pit us against each will not weaken us. Sometimes, combining two things is an effective way to weaken them. But sometimes...

(Copycat takes a step back, then pours the water into the container now full of sulfuric acid. He then walks offscreen, and the camera speeds up, showing the combination as it begins to boil, melt the container it's in and, eventually, belch out white smoke)

Copycat V/O: ...it can kill you.

(Fade out)

Starstruck · Dec 9, 2009

<o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com<img src=" images="" smilies="" redface.gif="" border="0" alt="" title="Embarrassment" smilieid="3" class="inlineimg"></o:smarttagtype> [Camera fades in to a dark alley somewhere in <st1:city><st1>San Diego</st1></st1:city>. The cameraman is disgusted by the trash, vagabonds, and rats that littered the alley. He knew why he was here as he moved the camera around searching for the monster known as Omega. The camera found Omega sitting neck to a dumpster with ‘Barb’ next to it.]<o></o>
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[Omega still showed the fresh scars from last week as he turned toward the camera. ‘Barb’ still showed pieces of flesh hanging from the barbed wire wrapped around the seat of the chair.]<o></o>
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OMEGA: Aggression forty-eight saw Stalker and Omega work as a well oiled machine against the Viking porn star himself. He was a man alone on an island facing off against to of the most sadistic men to ever step foot in EPW. These two men set out to do what they planned to do until Rocko Daymon decided to interject himself into the match as the mystery man. It’s funny Rocko how you weren’t man enough to come to the ring in the beginning. I guess it’s because of what I did to you at Wrestleverse. How I beat you within an inch of your life. How I totally dismantled the legacy of the great Rocko.<o></o>
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[Omega paused for a second before looking up at the camera again.]<o></o>
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OMEGA: But I applaud you Rocko [Omega claps his hands] and your intestinal fortitude. But at Aggression forty-nine is where it all ends. Rocko you have the un-daunting task of facing a man that has no remorse. A man that was not happy after forty-eight last week. You have to look the devil in the face one more time Rocko, I hope you’re prepared.<o></o>
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[Omega looked down at the ground before looking at ‘Barb’ and nodding in agreement.]<o>

</o> OMEGA: So since Stalker is facing Rocko Daymon in a one on one match, EPW officials have to find somewhere to put Omega. So they decided that Omega should be in a five man scramble for a shot at the Intercontinental Title that is currently held by Shawn Hart of HOPE. Now any man would be excited to get an opportunity to have a shot at a title in the EPW. That is what all wrestlers dream about right, is to one day become a champion. ‘Barb’ and I are very excited about this match, but not for the reason that you all maybe thinking.<o>

</o> [Omega starts to laugh as a few of the vagabonds got up and ran down the alley.]<o></o>
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OMEGA: We are excited about this match because it’s more pain that we get to inflict. Four wrestlers in the ring with the monster is something that we will enjoy. You have the dopesmoker himself Erik Black. The man that went through hell and back with Stalker in a Stalker’s Rules match. Erik I give you props on what you have accomplished in the ring but seeing as how these fickle fans and sycophants cheer you because you can do a suicidal high flying move through some inanimate object, I on the other hand could care less.<o>

</o> OMEGA: I just want to hurt you. That is what I intend to accomplish. That is my goal in EPW. Ask the Viking porn star or even Rocko himself how it feels to be in a ring with a man like me. Erik I hope you are prepared to be taken from your pedestal in the clouds. Because it will all come crashing down to earth.<o></o>
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[Omega looks at ‘Barb’ again and nods.]<o></o>
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OMEGA: ‘Barb’ says that the next man in this match is Fusenhoff the former EPW Television Champion. The man that has beaten insurmountable odds by getting his release from Stalker. Fusenhoff you my friend made a big mistake. You should have taken Stalker’s advice. You would have been better off if you have. See you fail to realize the wisdom and knowledge that man possesses. You continued to blind yourself with jealousy and rage and didn’t see what this man tried to do for you. He tried to make your stay in EPW as painless as possible. But you decided to shun the man and play your own game. How did that work out for you Fuse? Oh that’s right the worst year in your life if I do recall. You tried to play Stalker’s game and failed miserably. Now how did that year long torture feel? How did it feel when you were down and Stalker kept pressing his foot on your neck keeping you that way. Fuse I hope you are ready for a lot of the same pain that you received for a year. With Stalker his plan was to make you understand that you were more like him then you knew. I hope this still holds true because I plan to continue my destruction of pain in the EPW. Sorry Fuse you just happen to be a victim also.<o></o>
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[The big man stood up and grabbed ‘Barb’ from the side of the dumpster. He turned to the camera then his head did a quick turn back to the chair. Omega started to let out primal roar which scared half the people in the alley and a few passersby. He held the steel chair up and started to bash himself in the head a few times.] <o></o>
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OMEGA: NOOOOOO!!! BARB DOESN’T WANT TO DO THIS. WHY HAVE YOU ALL COME BACK!! I’M DONE WITH YOU ALL. IT’S ONLY ME AND BARB NOW.<o></o>
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[Omega continued to bash himself in the head with the steel chair as finally slumped to the ground. His eyes were dazed but he had a smile on his face. The blood dripped down his face as he looked at the steel chair which was covered with blood and more flesh.]<o>

</o> OMEGA: ‘Barb’ is the one that protects me from them but something was not right this time. They seemed to have some sort of control over you ‘Barb’. WHY!! I don’t understand. Yes I will get back to the rest of my opponents. They seem to have a vested interest in this match. But for the life of me I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because it’s for a title shot and all they care about is greed and fame. I’m not happy that they are back but I do know that the last two men in this match will probably be working together at some point since they are both in Anthology. <o></o>
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[Omega took a deep breath as the blood continued to pour from his head to the ground.]<o>

</o> OMEGA: Copycat and Sean Edmunds two men that think this match and title shot go through the both of them. Everything goes through Anthology correct boys. But I intend to make that statement a fact as I intend to go through Anthology. Now Copycat you and your “buddy” Edmunds have a long storied rivalry that has culminated into some sort of an uneasy partnership. You think that the EPW Commish is out to get you and Anthology because you guys plan to rip through EPW brick by brick. There may be some merit in that but what you fail to realize is that ‘Barb’ and I are not in this match as obstacles for your eventual title shot. We are here to punish as many people in the EPW as humanly possible. Now to say that Black, Fuse and I are victims could be a mistake. What’s to say that you two are the victims or dare I say prey?<o></o>
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[Omega cracked a grin through that crimson mask but continued.]<o></o>

OMEGA: Cat I could care less what Anthology does to the EPW. I could care less what you guys have in store for HOPE. One thing Stalker has told me is that fear and punishment are the only things that matter in this sport. Is doesn’t matter if you fear me or not. What does matter is that I inflict as much punishment on each and every one of you. [Omega puts his head down] That’s all that really matters.<o></o>
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OMEGA: Last but certainly not least is Mr. Edmunds.<o></o>
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[Omega looks at his manager before grabbing the chair and placing it in between himself and the camera.]<o></o>
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OMEGA: Mr. Edmunds you may want us to believe that you and Copycat are on the same page but it seems to me like there is some miscommunication. I believe the deep seeded rivalry that you two have had in the past will come to fruition at Aggression forty-nine. Why do I believe this? Well because there can be only one winner of this match that garners a shot at Shawn Hart for the Intercontinental Title. There can be only ONE. Your partner said it best that every single one of you have tremendous egos. Now who will be the first to put their ego aside for the good of the cause? The main objective is to get that title back into Anthology of course but who is going to be the one that stands aside to let the other man be the flag bearer for Anthology against Shawn Hart.<o></o>
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OMEGA: See what you fail to realize Mr. Edmunds is that Omega doesn’t care about all that. Omega doesn’t care about the fame, fortune, power, and respect that come with owning a championship in the EPW. Those things don’t concern me. We have a goal in mind also but it doesn’t have anything to do with owning titles to conquer EPW. We like to do things a little different. It’s more about destruction and chaos in the EPW. Mr. Edmunds I implore you to not think of me as just another Anthology conquest. Think of me as a man that would do anything to watch you scream in pain. I’m coming to Aggression forty-nine for the five man scramble and…<o></o>
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[Omega holds ‘Barb’ up in the air with a sick sadistic smile.]<o></o>
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OMEGA: …I’m not coming alone. <o></o>
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[The camera fades out to see Omega hugging ‘Barb’.]<o></o>

Fusenshoff · Dec 9, 2009

Fade in to Fusenshoff walking along a path with children and their parents all around him. It takes a moment before some people are seen lining up against a guard rail with kids leaning over the rail in an attempt to get just a bit closer to the action. People are taking pictures and pointing. Finally, the camera pans wide enough to catch a monkey trying to get food from the patrons. Soon there’s a gaggle of monkeys. On the left side of the picture a giraffe can be seen seemingly posing for a photo op. Fusenshoff passes a sign that says ‘San Diego Zoo’.

Fusenshoff: “How many times do you have to roll your eyes and shatter teeth before a handful of megalomaniacs understand you have to put in a little work to win here?”

Fusenshoff pulls his flask from his black leather jacket while passing a handful of people more interested in the hippos than noticing him drinking at the zoo.

“One thing I’ve learned over the past two years it’s that no one lays down in EPW. You can spout off at the mouth all you want about how you’re going to run over the competition like you’re the bus driver that took out Matthew Long. It doesn’t mean sh*t.

“Everyone is a tough draw. So this goes out to the all-powerful Anthology: get it through your ghetto-booty-thick skulls that you’re only fooling yourselves.

“What happened, Sean? You guaran-damn-teed victory last week. I thought you follow-up on your promises… Oh yeah, you said that you let us last long enough so Larry could lose it for you.

“You made a mistake. Kind of like when you said I’m a former tag champion. See a pattern here, Sean? Mistakes for you are popping up repeatedly like clockwork, like herpes outbreaks and like Anthology members coming or going as if the stable itself is Tiger Woods and you’re all cocktail waitresses.”

Fusenshoff stops just in front of the Lion’s Den, leaning back against the rail so the camera can shoot the two lions pacing in the background. Appropriate since Edmunds called Fuse a lion, though apparently in the tag ranks, just a week ago.

“Yet the bullsh*t continues. Copycat, you actually seem to believe LT put you and Sean in this match because it’s a certainty you’ll both be left at the end and have to fight each other!! You believe it like it’s happened already!

“You were just humiliated twice by Layne Winters and immediately proceed to go off on a tangent about how you’ll take out three EPW wrestlers like its child’s play. Several minutes about the repercussions coming from you and Sean being the only two left at the end of this thing.

“The two of you will beat up the three of us together while Omega, Black and myself sit back and watch each other get tag teamed like the sluttiest porn stars. I suppose you’ll just play Rock-Paper-Scissors to decide who wins after that, huh?

“Absurd… ignorant… laughable… pompous… even borderline insane are words that spring to mind. On the heels of Tact and Edmunds underestimating The First and me, you unload this…

“I tell you what, give me a call and let me know where you’re at right now Copycat. I’ll pay the bus fare, get on Google Maps and find your exact location. I’ll talk to the guy at the hot dog stand to get more specific directions. Then I’ll come to wherever it is you are and turn on the damn light…

“Because you’re so far in the dark a covert ops squad would have more success finally finding weapons of mass destruction in Iraq than finding you. You could play hide and seek with Helen Keller and she’d be more on track than you are right now.

“I blame the hype machine that is Anthology. Sure, there’s five of you and yes, you’re all pretty good. Everybody in EPW is pretty good. That’s why HOPE could’ve picked four guys out of a hat from this federation and had just as much success as they’re having now.

“Sorry, I meant GASP. Good one, by the way…. How did you ever come up with that?! I bet the five of you came up with it together, right? As a team? It’s good, because there are four letters. You know, like DUMB and SH*T or ‘it took me two seconds to come up with this CRAP’.”

Fusenshoff pulls out his flask while shaking his head and looking back at the lions. He turns to his side and stays that way as he tilts his head back toward the camera.

“So continue to underestimate all three men you’ll be facing this week. Continue to rest on your assumption that having two Anthology members in this match is an advantage, mostly because Anthology is sooooo amazing. Pretend that just because this isn’t the first time you two clowns have worked the same rodeo, you won’t be catching the bull between the horns.

“Ignore the glaringly obvious flaw in your ego-blind battle plan…

“There are three of us.

“We’ll pick off one of you before we let you tag up on us in this match. That’s just common sense.

“Did you think Anthology is so omnipotent that the three of us would just exchange blows while the two of you could gang-beat us one-by-one? It’s like you think we’re too stupid to defend ourselves.

“Not to mention Sean announced it from the very beginning of this promo period. I mean, sure, it was pretty much implied from the get-go, but way to force-feed your opponents the importance of breaking up you two to even the odds. You’re practically begging us to make sure one of you goes out first in this match. And if we do that, what’s to stop us from just triple teaming the other one right afterward?

“So Copycat, you’re probably right. Odds are the two of you will be squabbling and exchanging shoves before this match is over. The only difference will be that you’ll be arguing about how your supposed advantage blew up like the wedding cake at a bachelor party.

“You don’t have egos?! You’ve combined them into one giant ego! That’s why you didn’t see HOPE coming and had to give Stevens total control of your stable, sacrificing your founder and making yet another enemy.

“Seriously, I expected better. Well, at least no one can accuse you guys of having low team morale. That’s something, I guess.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff takes one last look at the lions pacing. He pulls out his flask and salutes them with it. Then he continues on his way.

RStrawsma · Dec 10, 2009

(We fade in on a red earthen landscape to the tune of "Mountains on Mars" by Electric Wizard. Yes, surprisingly, I'm going with a different band this time. We are literally looking at a range of mountains that could very well be on Mars, given the reddish soil and stratus-less spacescape.)

(Did you see that? I just made up a word.)

(Leading the procession is the SONIC TITAN... formerly Ivan Dalkichev, who, as he marches over the sanguine hills, juts out his arm in the standard "endless horizon" pose.)

The Sonic Titan
Hile, noble DOPESMOKER!! The holy city of JERUSALEM lies beyond the endless sandscape!

(DOPESMOKER, formerly Erik Black, takes in his surroundings with a bit of disbelief as he pulls a spliff out of his floral-print shirt pocket and traps it in his mouth.)

DOPESMOKER
...dude, sorry to interrupt the procession and everything, but where in the hell are we? Mars, or something?

The Sonic Titan
POSITIVELY!!

(Black stops briefly to light his fat joint and takes a few puffs as Ivan proceeds on.)

DOPESMOKER
Okay, well... that's pretty far out, being on another planet and everything. Or at least thinking I'm on another planet.

But, lucky for us, they grow camera crews on Mars, so, bro, you think I could get a moment alone?

(He looks up and sees that his friend and former tag partner is doing some sort of chi meditation while standing on one foot and humming oddly to himself. Even Erik, who hangs around this painted and bath-robed man more than anyone else, cannot help but show some astonishment to this strange behavior.)

DOPESMOKER
Err... maybe you need that moment. Well, do what you gotta do, bro, and I'll take care of this...

(Approaching the camera, or at least what he perceives to be a camera -- it could, in all reality, be a mailbox or a telephone pole -- Erik takes another heroic drag from the spliff and begins speaking...)

DOPESMOKER
Well, I'm not quite the Television Champion... but do I really care? I full expected to walk out of that ring weighing the exact same as I did walking in. Layne Winters retained the title, but big whoop -- he's still a douchebag.

As for me? Well, the unpredictability of the cosmos has sent me in other directions. Somehow, I'm smack dab in a five man scramble for a shot at the EPW Intercontinental Title. Most would think a loss on your record would hold you back, but... yet again, I defy the conventions of professional wrestling.

Losing is the new winning, and any idiot with eyes in his head would know that if it hadn't been for a certain disorientating strain of Kryptonite Krunch in my system on that night, I would have managed to pull off that nigh-impossible SIX-FORTY MOONSAULT and be standing here now with the TV Title o'er my shoulder!

The point isn't that I lost, but that I came and kicked champion ass. The fans got their money's worth... and also had their minds expanded a bit. There isn't one person who left the arena that night that wasn't thinking of the name DOPESMOKER. All of a sudden, people are talking about how I'm an upcoming star... and really, I can't remember the last time I actually won a match.

By all logic, this shouldn't be happened. A man who continues to come up short shouldn't continue building so much hype and credibility. But just the same, it's happening. Reality is being defied by the DOPESMOKER.

(He holds his hands out to show the alien planet he stands on.)

DOPESMOKER
Welcome to my world.

Grove with me for a bit...

(Taking another drag, he takes a stroll down the hill with the camera following him.)

DOPESMOKER
I've seen enough things through the use of hallucinogens to fully fathom that there is no preposterous notion of "destiny" that binds this universe... so call it an act of dumb coincidence that someone should throw my name into this match, as opposed to the direct hand of fate. I don't really care, regardless. I'll take this opportunity to give yet another set of fans another mind-blowing display of professional wrestling prowess and technique -- everything a bag of shrooms could get you, and for half the price.

My only regret in it all is having to put up with not just one, but TWO shmucks out of Anthology in this match. It's bad enough to have to listen to one of them ramble on about how supposedly great they are as professional wrestlers and what they mean to the industry when their records speak otherwise.

Whether it be watching a promo of "The Original" Sean Edmunds do his laundry while he talks about knowing the "inside" of Jared Wells, or Copycat playing Bill Nye the Science Guy... I know I'm in for a nauseating come-down.

(He suddenly stops in his tracks, turns to the camera, and pops down the aviators to look DIRECTLY into the camera.)

DOPESMOKER
But let's just get something right out in the open here, okay? Given recent events... none of the founding members of Anthology are actually in the Anthology anymore. Am I the only person that realizes this?

Let's review... Kin Hiroshi bailed to do some soul-searching... Shawn Hart realized he had better things to do with his time... and just a couple weeks ago back in Tuscon, karma caught up to Cameron Cruise the hard way.

(He shrugs, and commences the groove process.)

DOPESMOKER
Now, I've never considered a fan of professional wrestling's own Frat Pack since its inception... but at least back then, there was a legit purpose behind it: Three guys long trapped in the mid-card, combining their efforts in hope that they would all climb the ladder together. They made it no secret back then that it was all for one and one for all.

We were all nice enough to refrain from telling any of them back then that the real reason they were being held back had to do with lacking talent... but somehow, they got it in their heads that with more numbers came greater success.

Thus, show after show, we were introduced to newer members of what I like to refer to as Anthhology's B-Squad -- a bunch of smug assholes from outside of Empire Pro who only seem interested in telling the world that everybody else in this federation is either boring or detrimental to the industry. Guys like... well, Copycat and Sean Edmunds.

When you need a job done, you go get your tools... and that's just what the B-Squad is. Tact, Cat, Edmunds... nothing but a bunch of tools brought in here to earn a pay check and help put somebody else over. Back then, it was Hart and Cruise. Now... it's the World Champion, "Triple X" Sean Stevens.

(He scoffs at the absurdity of this realization.)

DOPESMOKER
You know... at least when Cam was calling the shots, he was very adamant in explaining how he was anything but the leader of Anthology. There was a sense of equality among the ranks back then. But now with Stevens as the leader... the B-Squad are even bigger tools than they were before. Now they're nothing but brainless minions for a champion who already has more power than one man should ever have.

Well, I hope you guys are happy with the coup over Cameron Cruise. You've effectively damned yourselves as being nothing more than stooges to the great Sean Stevens. If you can't actually be a World Champion, at the very least you can carry his bags around from hotel to venue.

Now the both of you have it in your heads that you need to bring the Intercontinental Title "back" to the Anthology. But why? Does having the second-best title validate the weak existence of your pathetic Hair Club for Men? Even if either of you moves on from this match as the winner... even if you go on to beat Shawn Hart and put that nice shiny strap around your waist...

It doesn't change the fact that neither of you will never be anything more than lackeys to the Blue-Eyed Badass.

(Shaking his head as if to say "weaksauce" to his opponents, he takes another hit, strolling along, seemingly moving in time to the spacey soundtrack.)

DOPESMOKER
The over on the other side of this Pentragram of Power, we've got some real rough 'n' tumblers like Omega and Fusenshoff. Snobs and slobs in the same ring fighting for the same goal. Pretty far out.

So far, everything the Hoff has said has been nothing short of the truth on the subject of the Anthology, so... nothing to add there.

Omega, well... like always, he's out to hurt people. Just like I'm out there to enjoy the psychedelic experience. We've got two different ideals, but we both have one thing in common: we go all out for what we love to do.

As for knowing what HE does, well... unfortunately, I dunno how to ask Rocko and the Viking for first-hand experience.

(Bursting into the frame is Ivan, wild-eyed and holding out an open palm with a trio of yellow triangles.)

The Sonic Titan
Take these, and you can!

(In a time that is remarkably shorter than one would expect from someone about to ingest a foreign substance, Erik reaches out and tosses them in his mouth. A second later, "THE BUTT DOMINATOR" OLVIR ARSVINNAR appears with them on Mars.)

DOPESMOKER
Holy crap... Olvir?! What are you doing on Mars?!

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH! I have come to CLAIM this BLOOD RED PLANET OF VIOLENCE for my OWN!! I will show them that the TRUE God of War is not this weakling Mars... but the GREAT OLVIR!!

(A second later, "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON suddenly materializes.)

DOPESMOKER
Wow, Rocko Daymon, you too?!

"The Undying" Rocko Daymon
Uhm... sure.

DOPESMOKER
So guys, now that I have you here, what can you tell me about Omega?

Olvir Arsvinnar
AH!! The MAN of OMEGA-GASMS!! A truly VICIOUS ravager of the flesh and mind! Truly, there have been few warriors to match the UNSTOPPABLE WITS of the Great Olvir's, but he is one such that can stand equal to even MY greatness on the field of battle!

"The Undying" Rocko Daymon
He disfigured me for life.

DOPESMOKER
Dang, that's some heavy ****...

I still can't believe the two of you are STANDING here in my promo! Bro, you got something where I can talk to ICE TRE?!

The Sonic Titan
Uhh... nah, I don't think it works that way.

"The Undying" Rocko Daymon
You think you guys could send me back to earth any time soon? I've got a promo of my own to take care of at some point...

DOPESMOKER
Oh, right... bro? How do we get out here?

The Sonic Titan
ZIM-ZALLA-BIM!!

(Ivan CLAPS -- !!)

(And we're back on earth, specifically at Uncle Buck's Gravel Outlet. Black, Dalkichev, and Daymon are standing at the top of a mound of red rocks. Erik seems quite blown away by the sudden change of surroundings.)

DOPESMOKER
Oh, man... that's crazy.

"The Undying" Rocko Daymon
Next time, if you guys have questions, just call me...

DOPESMOKER
Thanks again, dude!

(Muttering to himself, Daymon descends the hill. Dalkichev is about to follow when Black stops him.)

DOPESMOKER
You know bro? I get the feeling we forgot something back on Mars...

(Back on Mars...)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!!

(...Olvir Arsvinnar stands alone on a red planet.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Foolish smokers of the FREYA-WEED!! My GREATNESS is STRANDED!!

(Far shot of Mars drifting alone out in space.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
[small]AAARRRRRGGGHHH!!![/small]

GARTHIsTheLaw · Dec 10, 2009

(Cueup: “Panama” by Van Halen)

(Fade in on a wide shot of a casino floor – too nondescript for it to be evident just which casino we're looking at, but the evidence suggests it's one you've probably never heard of)

Copycat: Step riiiiiiight up!

(The camera slowly pans down to show the focus of our segment: Copycat, dressed in his best high roller formal wear, standing behind a poker table. There are cards and chips laid out across the table in front of an apparent five players, including the camera man, though the shot is too tight for us to really see any of them except their hands – the ones on their arms, not the ones in their cards. Copycat finishes shuffling a deck of cards, then looks up at the camera)

Copycat: I'll say this about the three people in my upcoming match who are doomed to lose it badly – they at least offer some variety. Never have I seen three people say so little in such different ways. You've got Omega whacking himself in the face with a chair while telling hilariously terrible lies about his chances of defeating any member of Anthology. You've got Erik Black drawing up promo sets even more elaborate than mine to tell hilariously terrible lies about his chances of defeating any member of Anthology. And you've got Fusenshoff acting like he's too cool for school, but certainly not too cool to tell hilariously terrible lies about his chances of defeating any member of Anthology. Gosh, which one do you put your money on?

(Copycat slowly deals out two cards to each player)

Copycat: If there's a sport more prone to upsets than pro wrestling, I've yet to see it. Every sport's got its upsets, even its jaw-dropping ones, but wrestling takes home the gold. There are so many factors that go into a wrestling match that never go into a boxing match or a football game. As confident as I am in my odds of winning any given match – and anyone who knows me knows just how confident I am about pretty much everything I do – I try not to make any guarantees of victory. I've seen enough matches slip through my grasp for reasons well beyond my control to know the effect the X-factors can have. X-factors like biased officials, vengeful authority figures and unwanted interlopers. And with a five-man, every-man-for-himself match, well, those X-factors just start stacking up.

(With the cards dealt, chips start being tossed into the center of the table as the mostly unseen players place their bets. Copycat continues talking as this goes on)

Copycat: So where do you put your money in this match for an Intercontinental Title shot at Aggression 49? I mean, I know where I'd put my money, but hey, if we were to assume for the sake of my example that gambling on pro wrestling is the new hot thing all of a sudden, I wouldn't be the only guy putting a bet down, right? There's be a crowd of folks wondering, “Which one of these guys is most likely to give me a return on my investment?” Now, I'm not going to tell you whom to bet on. Not only am I prejudiced, but it's a multi-man match, so even if I were to offer you some insider info and say I'm going to take a dive – which I'm not – it wouldn't tell you much. You're not going to listen to me on that one, so why waste my breath? But while I can't tell you where to bet, I can tell you how to bet. The challenge is that, in a game with five players, it's tough to know how to bet. But if you go in with that assumption that this five-player game makes things too random for you to make an informed bet, you're assuming wrong.

(With all the bets on the table, Copycat burns the top card and then lays out the next three: two of clubs, three of clubs, nine of clubs. More bets go down around the table, and Copycat keeps talking through all of it)

Copycat: Oh sure, there's a great deal of randomness to the participants in this one. Start things out with Omega. He went on and on for what seemed like an eternity on his propensity for causing pain to others, hoping that if he said it enough times, I might mistake him for someone wholly different from the last 50 guys who got in the ring with the Cat, all prepped and ready to cause him a world of hurt, only to look like fools when the match was through and the Cat was headed to the back with nary a permanent injury to be seen. Heck, Anarky basically went through the exact same schtick just last Aggression, and when the dust settled, he'd done such a sorry job of following through on his promises that he basically got disqualified for failure. You've got to work pretty hard to get disqualified for being a failure, but what can I say? If there's anything that defines Anarky better than being angry at everything for no discernable reason except that it looks cool, it's failing horribly whenever he steps in the ring with the Cat. I admit Anarky's gotten one or two up on me by sheer force of outside interference in the past, but Omega, simply put, is no Anarky. He's not even Anarky's interior decorator.

(The bets finish and Copycat burns another card, then turns over the nine of hearts, leaving things again to the betting)

Copycat: You've got “Dopesmoker” Eric Black, who mixed one part being proud of losing to Layne Winters with one part public access TV drug trip to create a big ol' batch of stupid. Those toxins with which he is filling his body allowed him to give a very thorough history lesson on Anthology, full of unwarranted assumptions, blatant lies and an incredible misunderstanding of Anthology's purpose. That Anthology has evolved noticeably from the group it was when it first began warrants mention, yes. But while members have changed, the goal remains the same: to drag this broken-down industry away from the cliff to which jackasses like he, GASP and Lindsay Troy have brought it before the cliff crumbles and sends everything I and the rest of Anthology worked so hard for into the abyss. Heck, Black's cluelessness practically offends my senses; if he had a brain in his head, he wouldn't have allowed Olvir Arsvinnar to be onscreen at the same time as him; it made it too obvious that the Dopesmoker and the Viking porn star, despite their names, haven't accomplished in their entire careers what Jared Wells can accomplish in a single weekend when he's motivated.

(Copycat burns yet another card, then flips over the four of spades, as betting continues)

Copycat: And then there's Fusenshoff, who's taken so many talking points from GASP I was half convinced Layne Winters was being dubbed in over top of him. If only Erik Black had given him some tutoring in history, he might realize that GASP is not a randomly assigned set of letters meant to mock the chumps who fly its banner, but an acronym for the Great Anarky Self-promotion Project, which is basically what GASP is, even if its non-Anarky members haven't realized it yet. Shoot, as much as he sounded like the rest of those wastes of life, you'd think he was the great big screamin' deal of a surprise they say they have lined up for Aggression 49. 'Course, we all know that can't be it, because even the members of GASP aren't stupid enough to think anyone will care if they add Fusenshoff to their ranks – except maybe Winters, who has absolutely no concept of what other people like or dislike – but hey, they might as well blow their metaphorical wad on adding GASP cadet Fusenshoff to their ranks, because nothing they pull will have the impact that Sean Stevens joining ranks with Anthology had.

(Copycat looks around at all the people sitting at the table, staying them from turning over their cards)

Copycat: But the things is, no matter how random its participants, this match isn't all randomness. There may be five competitors, but there aren't five bets to be made. There are really only two ways you can bet – for Anthology or against Anthology. And if you're betting any other way, you're playing the wrong game.

(Copycat grabs one of the poker chips off the table and flips it high in the air. The camera follows the coin on its upward trajectory until it goes off the screen entirely. When it comes back down, Copycat's hand shoots up to catch it, and the camera pans back down. When it finishes its pan, the poker table is gone, and in front of Copycat is a roulette wheel)

Copycat: The smart money isn't going to bet on Fusenshoff, Omega or Erik Black. You put a bet down on one of them, you might as well pick one at random. It doesn't really matter which one. A bet on one of those three is a bet that somehow, some way, one of the three of them might stand a chance against the two members of Anthology – through interference by GASP or Lindsay Troy gaming the odds, because that's the only way it could happen. All three of them seem to think that their secret to winning this match is to take out Sean Edmunds and the Cat first. But whereas the Cat and Sean Edmunds are unquestionably on the same page, it won't be long before our three opponents forget what they were supposed to do and turn against one another – Omega first, probably, and then Black. Bet on them, and you're betting your money on the game with the longest odds in the house.

(Copycat spins the roulette wheel, then tosses the poker chip aloft again. Once again, it goes offscreen, and is caught shortly after coming onscreen again. This time, a blackjack table is in front of Copycat)

Copycat: But throw in with Anthology and you're playing the game you've got the best chance of winning. Even if all three of those numbskulls are able to stay on the same page and they do spend the match targeting Anthology, all it's going to do is make their humiliation all the more complete – when the three of them can't stand up against the two of us. Countless times in the Cat's career, it's taken no fewer than four men to bring him down. What could possibly make anyone think that three men can do the job when the Cat has an ally? That's a sucker's bet.

(Copycat leans forward on the table)

Copycat: The fact is, in a match like this – where the only choices are “Anthology” or “not Anthology” -- Anthology is the house. This is a match that was set up entirely around Anthology – the attempt to turn Sean Edmunds and the Cat against each other, the prize being a shot at Shawn Hart's Intercontinental Title, it's as plain as day. Some games might have better odds than others. But what it all comes down to is this: no matter which game you play, a bet against Anthology is a bet against the house. And although the house is never infallible, in this game, the odds are pretty clear. You bet against the house...

(He cracks a grin)

Copycat: ... and the house takes you.

(Fade out)

Fusenshoff · Dec 11, 2009

Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting on a stool in front of a TEAM backdrop. He seems relatively clean compared to his usual self, with a relatively trimmed goatee and recently washed shoulder-length black hair. His leather jacket looks the same as always, but the wife beater and black jeans look like they’ve been washed recently. The black boots are still muddy and worn. Clean boots is probably asking a bit much from Fuse.

Fusenshoff: “Where do I begin? It seems like no one really talked about anything I said, yet I have a plethora or jeers to juggle and opinions to oppose. Not only that, there were so many slips from my opponents that the opportunity to humiliate is as ripe as the last time I fought members of The Anthology—last week.

“Let’s start with Omega, whose antics are designed to strike unholy fear in his foes the likes of which should shake or souls to the core and keep us awake at night for days before the match.

“So why is it that every time this guy randomly bashes himself in the head and screams about the voices having a tea party in his cerebellum, one can’t help but crack a smile no matter how hard we try to suppress it.

“Then again, I suppose a small snicker is better than a full-on belly laugh. Like when he was talking about Rocko Daymon fighting Stalker and said ‘Rocko you have the un-daunting task of facing a man that has no remorse.’

“Nice plug Omega, I’m sure Stalker appreciates it.”

Fusenshoff switches to his best Omega impression. He’s having a hard time keeping the smile off his face though.

“HEY ROCKO!!! You better not quiver in fear when you see Stalker coming down that ramp! He’s the most un-frightening man you’ll ever meet because he’s one sadistic S.O.B.! If I were you I’d not-give up right now before you get seriously hurt!”

Fusenshoff shakes his head before taking a swallow from his flask.

“You’d make a great match promoter Omega. How about next time you just pop in during one of Stalker’s promos with a big cuddly pink bunny rabbit and beat his ass unconscious with it? I bet that’ll scare whoever he’s facing.

“Not just that Omega… you brought it up, so I have to ask. How does it feel to be Stalker’s consolation prize? He spent over a year trying to get me to be his lackey and it almost cost us both our lives for me to get away from him. But I did… and I’m stronger for it. That whole ‘what doesn’t kill you…’ bit, right?

“On the other hand, it took him all of two seconds to train your ass to be his pet. What possible advantage do you see in following him around? Stalker used to be Stevens’ coffee boy and that dissipated with such little importance it isn’t even a talking point after The Blue-Eyed Bandit, as he’s seems to be called these days, took over Anthology.

“But what used to be Stalker’s position with XXX is now your position with Stalker. My, how far we’ve come Omega. Either way I’m free to kick anyone’s ass I feel like, including yours, and Stalker is legally obligated to stay 100% out of it.

Fusenshoff takes another sip as he switches gears.

“What’s there to say about Erik Black? He already showed just how confident he is while mentioning that he’s done nothing but get tossed around like Raggedy Andy as a singles competitor. Now he’s in an Intercontinental Title contender’s match that he obviously doesn’t seem to think he deserves.

“Everyone knows I’m not much of a Life Coach so I guess I’ll just leave him to wallow in his mediocrity. I’ll undoubtedly be taking an approach against him that I do everyone else. If he gets slaughtered in the process maybe I’ll send him some Tony Robbins CDs.

“And like I said before, Copycat made himself look almost as stupid as Omega, though if I didn’t know better I’d say he stole some of Black’s stash the way he rambles on about absolutely nothing. Someone should explain to this guy that the fans aren’t interested in filler. Maybe that’s why Edmunds and Copycat are Anthology’s bottom feeders.

“Oh maybe I should elaborate on what I mean. I’m not one to copycat Copycat and make a statement while completely ignoring actually backing it up. Like when he said ‘Never have I seen three people say so little in such different ways.’

“Did anyone besides me notice that after this the guy just mentioned three little things about each of our promos and followed up with ‘they’re telling hilariously terrible lies about [their] chances of beating Anthology’.

“Care to elaborate at all Copycat? I guess not. Just mention that Omega bashes himself in the head with Barb, Black pretended to cut his promo on Mars and that I seem to act too cool. That should be enough, right?”

Fusenshoff looks a bit ticked off. It’s one thing to do embarrassing stuff accidentally for the amusement of others. It’s another thing to simply waste peoples’ time in order to fill air-time.

“And as far as the GASP crap; you’re referring to a rip you used on Anarky, completely unrelated to this match because ANARKY ISN’T IN IT. I guess that’s not a terrible, faux-pas until you said ‘GASP is not a randomly assigned set of letters meant to mock the chumps who fly its banner’.

“You used it in that EXACT context multiple times in both of your promotional segments. I’m not even going to quote you on it, unless you force me to by being an idiot again, because there’s so many. Any time you refer to HOPE as GASP you’re ‘mocking the chumps who fly its banner’. This isn’t Nietzsche Copycat, but it’s not seventh grade English class either.

“The fact of the matter is that you and Sean are fighting an uphill battle. You can pretend otherwise all you want, but having an ally in this match makes both of you more of a target. You can work together, but you’re still outnumbered. Go ahead and ignore this glaring fact again.

“Keep being ignorant and arrogant to your predicament. We’ll see how well that works for you.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff kills his flask and quickly leaves to go find more booze.

GARTHIsTheLaw · Dec 11, 2009

(Cueup: “Princes of the Universe” by Queen)

(Fade in on an astronomy-themed background – stars large and small twinkling in the blackness)

Copycat: Space. It seems to go on forever. But then you get to the end, and the gorilla starts throwing barrels at you.

(Through the might of DEMON TECHNOLOGY~, Copycat fades into the picture, clad in black Anthology T-shirt and jeans with his hair tied back)

Copycat: I knew if Fusenshoff took too many of his talking points from GASP, he'd eventually get confused and lose track of what he's supposed to say. Oh sure, he started out strong in his first utter waste of TV time, with the “Anthology isn't nearly as important as its members think it is, even though it's all anybody in EPW except the clinically insane sociopath and the Viking porn star can talk about these days” argument, straight from the scripts of Anarky and Layne Winters every time those two goofballs have opened their mouths since they decided to combine their individual levels of worthlessness into a colossal conglomeration of monotony. But he's quickly run off script, and as such, he's dropped a notch from wannabe GASP lackey to jabbering simpleton. Too bad, too, he was entertaining as the first thing.

(Copycat raises his arms, and the nine planets – excuse me, eight planets and one ex-planet – suddenly appear at various locations around him)

Copycat: It was cute when he made that comment about not wanting to copycat the Copycat, made all the cuter by the fact that it's something I used to say waaaaaaaaaay back in the day when trying to be me was all the rage. 'Course, he then proceeded to completely blow it by harkening back to his 11th-grade debate class and trying to pick apart my arguments. I mean, shoot, if there's any guy in EPW who's not going to make fun of him for that, it's me; I analyze what people say nonstop, and if you don't believe me, you should ask the other guys in Anthology what their least favorite thing about traveling with me is. You know, besides using my Hollywood star power to lure away the ladies they had their eyes on first. But if Fusenshoff really wanted to take advantage of his one shot at pretending to be me, he really should have put a little more work into it. Really – you get one shot at doing something, and you just crap it all up? That's bush league.

(He snaps his fingers, and colored lines showing the orbits of the planets appear – both in front of and behind him, thanks again to the might of DEMON TECHNOLOGY~)

Copycat: If Fusenshoff had been paying any attention at all, he'd know I was saying that the hilariously terrible lies told by him and the rest of the people in this match who don't matter were that any of them had even the slightest chance of winning, a bizarre delusion to which they all seem to cling tighter than Lindsay Troy is clinging to what remains of her power in EPW. If Fusenshoff had been paying any attention at all, he'd know that all I was saying was that GASP isn't a randomly assigned set of letters, because it actually stands for something. Of course it's directed almost entirely at mocking the chumps who fly its banner; what other purpose could it serve? Sheesh, the guy tries his darnedest to take me on up here...

(He points to his head)

Copycat: ... and this is the best he can come up with? Look, it was 100 percent pure, unadulterated folly for him to think he could match wits with the Smartest Player in the Game and not wind up a slack-jawed, babbling mass of shorted-out brain tissue and failure, but you'd really think if you're going to go into a hopeless fight, you might at least try your hardest. I have a tough time believing that was Fusenshoff's best.

(Copycat rolls his eyes)

Copycat: But who's to say what Fusenshoff's best is? That's the problem, isn't it? This is the environment that guys like Fusenshoff enter into when they join EPW, or really, any wrestling promotion nowadays. He's not been taught to put his all into anything, because for a guy like him, who might as well share a brain with Layne Winters on this one, it's not important how hard you work; the only important thing is how hard you tell people you work. I hear Fusenshoff talk, I see the way he thinks in the ring, and I can tell he'd be in the midst of a meteoric rise if this business still gave guys like him positive reinforcement to do things well. But it doesn't. People like the imbeciles in GASP and the rest of the sadly non-Anthology EPW roster care only about themselves; none of them would ever imagine taking the time to show this clueless kid what he's doing wrong.

(A slight smile cracks on Copycat's face)

Copycat: But the Anthology recognizes the importance of preparing for the future of this business. The Cat, Sean Edmunds, Jared Wells, Larry Tact – even our former members, Cameron Cruise and Shawn Hart – we all did that in the past. We put in the work to allow a new generation of superstars to rise, with the implicit agreement that they would do the same for the generation after them. But thanks to so many pathetic members of the EPW roster, and other wrestling rosters across the world, that generation has decided to forsake all who might follow it in search of its own benefit. That's why the Cat put his lucrative acting career on hold to return to the ring. And that's why, rather than continue to insult Fusenshoff's intelligence, I will enlighten him.

(Copycat raises his arms again)

Copycat: LET THERE BE LIGHT!

(A healthy solar glow surrounds Copycat's body)

Copycat: He doesn't need to try to be like GASP, to insult Anthology as they do. He doesn't need to be like me and fight as much with his mind as with his fists. I may have come into this business under the moniker “Copycat,” but it wasn't until I stopped copying others and doing my own things that I broke out as a serious competitor. What Fusenshoff needs to do is not take his lessons from the competitors of today, who would prefer to hide the secrets of their success so that no others may hope to imitate them. Instead, he should study the competitors of the previous generation, learn what made them successful, learn how he can avoid making the mistakes of this current generation. Maybe then, not only will he achieve levels of success far greater than what he's achieved in EPW, but he'll inspire others by his example.

(Copycat swiftly raises a finger)

Copycat: But make no mistake. As much as I want to see Fusenshoff succeed, in this match, he's meaningless, just like Omega and Erik Black. Because in case you haven't noticed, in this five-man match at Aggression 49, like everything else in EPW these days...

(The planets surrounding the glowing Copycat slowly begin to orbit him)

Copycat: ... everything revolves around Anthology, and that's no lie. This match is about Anthology and not Anthology, and with no true organized opposition and no true reason for what opposition remains to even be in this match, there is only one reasonable outcome: a victory for Anthology en route to regaining what Cameron Cruise lost. The light can come to Fusenshoff, just as it may someday come to Omega and Erik Black as well. But at Aggression 49...

(Everything suddenly goes black)

Copycat: ... it's lights out.

TheOriginalSE · Dec 12, 2009

Crises

(The camera shot opens along Balboa Park in San Diego. It slowly winds along the walkway, across the bridge, continuing down until it hits the community Christmas tree, lit in all its glory. Staring up at the tree, dressed in a light jacket, is "Simply Sensational" Sean Edmunds. He looks over at the camera and then back at the three.)

EDMUNDS: "The last time I was here in San Diego for Christmas I missed coming to see the tree lit. I had some friends call and invite me to the Ocean Beach Christmas Parade ... Erik, may I suggest that after Aggression, when you need a chance to reflect on just why you weren't able to get the job done against Anthology, to go down to Ocean Beach. Just take the 8 all the way in... you may find that it's your type of place."

(Edmunds turns and begins to walk.)

EDMUNDS: "I took some time to catch up with old friends the past few days, and I'm starting to wish I didn't. No, (pauses) not because I didn't want to see them ... but because while I was out here in San Diego visiting friends, the wolves came out. Omega, Erik Black, (a twinkle of the eye) Fuse.."

(He eyes scan the ground as he walks past a group of homeless persons who are gathering on the benches.)

EDMUNDS: "Not only did they come out, but they each had the damndest things to say.. Omega, chastising Cat and I for talking to inanimate objects as he and his ... chair .. spent some quality time together. Black reliving his favorite John Cusak movie, Identity, all the while trying to convince the world that the real reason he's in this match is something OTHER than being bantha fodder for Anthology.. and then Fuse... Fuse hanging on to that victory with clenched fists from last Aggression."

(His eyes come back up as the homeless congregation watches him and the cameras gain distance.)

EDMUNDS: "I get it, Fuse. You're hoping that by bringing up my transgression leading up to Aggression 48 that perhaps I'd get flustered. Fool me once, shame on ... me... fool me twi... well I just can't get fooled again!"

(He stops and looks around. On the right is a dog park, empty of course.)

EDMUNDS: "Unfortunately, Fuse, I don't get flustered by some stupid mistake I made outside of the ring. I called you a former tag team champion, that was my fault. But let's not dwell on the petty.. Or is that the new thing? Should I point out that Erik Black called me "the Original?" A monicker that I haven't used in over eight years? No, I won't, because what he said on ... "Mars"... won't mean a damn thing when we're in the ring. He could call me "Triple S" .. a name I went by more recently and it wouldn't matter one bit to me.. He's not wrestling my name .. he's wrestling me.. (a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow) ... well ... he's wrestling Anthology."

(Edmunds walks up to the fence of the dog park. He leans over and looks into the "unleashing" section.)

EDMUNDS: "This five man match means different things to each of us. You cannot possibly understand what it means to Copycat and myself. I couldn't care less what it means to you, or Black ... and I don't think any of us could possibly comprehend Omega enough to even begin.."

(Edmunds unhooks the gate and walks in.)

EDMUNDS: "As if you three could possibly band together and take out Anthology in this match."

(He looks past the second gate into the darkness that is the dog park. Thinking better of walking in and possibly soiling his shoes with one misstep, he turns back to the entrygate and shuts it as he exits.)

EDMUNDS: "Fusenshoff ... Omega ... Erik Black ... overcoming Anthology? A band of society rejects ... taking on the ones trying to stabilize and return wrestling to its long-gone glory? I think you've been watching one too many underdog films, Fuse. Because you know what will happen? I'll clue you in."

(Edmunds walks and stops on the overpass, staring down at the traffic below.)

EDMUNDS: "You, my friend, may be the reasonable one of the bunch, and that right there should be sending up red flags... but I would LOVE ... LOVE to see you walk up to Omega and offer your hand in partnership. Almost as much as I'd love to see Barb's implant left on your skull.. Omega won't be reasoned with, Fuse.. And Black? When we step in that ring, Erik Black won't see Fusenshoff, Omega, Sean Edmunds and Copycat staring back at him .. offer your hand to him, Fuse, and he'll stand there half-expecting us to break out into song and dance as we roll Violet Beauregarde to the back."

(Edmunds looks into the camera.)

EDMUNDS: "You're turning violet... Violet!"

(His attention turns back to the cars flying by underneath.)

EDMUNDS: "A drunk, a mental, and a pothead walk into Aggression ... it's a bad joke."

(Letting his words linger on the air, Edmunds stops talking for a good 15 seconds. The "ZOOM... ZOOM" of traffic fills the dead air.)

EDMUNDS: "That's all this is. A bad joke. The worst part, Fuse? Is that this joke is on you, not Anthology. Sure, Lindsay Troy is in her office throwing **** against a wall and hoping it sticks.. in her mind maybe one of you idiots will be in the right place at the right time and be left standing in the ring ... shame Anthology. The problem, Fuse, is not that there's a snowball's chance in hell of that happening ... but that you actually believe you'll overcome Copycat and I..."

(Edmunds takes a moment and turns around, leaning against the wall. The camera readjusts itself so that the traffic below is out of sight.)

EDMUNDS: "We're the bottom feeders of Anthology ... and yet we both have victories over Anarky..."

(Edmunds shrugs.)

EDMUNDS: "But I'm probably being ignorant and arrogant... In our quest to rid the wrestling world of those who have destroyed the business Copycat and I must have overlooked the fact you, Fusenshoff, can somehow bring together the degenerates... the degenerates who would KILL for a chance at Shawn Hart and some glory, to take out lil ole' Copycat and me."

(He pushes himself off the wall and walks up to the camera.)

EDMUNDS: "Two men. Same page. Same goals. Same ideals. This isn't about glory for us, Fusenshoff. This isn't about the Intercontinental championship. This isn't about Sean Edmunds or Copycat. This is about Anthology. This is about bringing order to the chaos. When you've seen this business at its pinnacle ... and watched its descent .. you are able to sacrifice the self for the whole. But what do you know about sacrifice, Fuse? You can't even save yourself... you're trapped ... leashed .. not even the pain and suffering .. eternal pain and suffering that you've caused others because of what lies at the bottom of those bottles affects you."

(Edmunds sighs.)

EDMUNDS: "Am I asking too much of you?"

(He places up three fingers.)

EDMUNDS: "Three..."

(Two fingers now.)

EDMUNDS: "Against two ..."

(He shakes his head "no.")

EDMUNDS: "You'll see, Fuse.."

(Two fingers.)

EDMUNDS: "It's two ... against.."

(He holds up his pointer finger.)

EDMUNDS: "One... against .. one... against..."

(He rotates his hand around and replaces his index finger with his middle one.)

EDMUNDS: "You."

(He pushes his hand in the camera's shot and exits the frame. The camera fades to black.)

Starstruck · Dec 12, 2009

<o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com<img src=" images="" smilies="" redface.gif="" border="0" alt="" title="Embarrassment" smilieid="3" class="inlineimg"></o:smarttagtype>[Camera opens again to somewhere in <st1><st1:city w:st="on">San Diego</st1:city></st1> where Omega is sitting on the hood of a car.]<o></o>
<o></o>
OMEGA: ‘Barb’ I don’t know if it’s me or does every Anthology member sound like a broken record. Copycat is a prime example of this. All he does is go on and on and on and on about the same nonsense that no one in the EPW stands a chance against them ever. Copycat is a poster child for being held down by the man or in this case the wo-man. I thought I was the black man in this match. Shouldn’t that card be played by me? Cat you seem to b!tch and complain more than a woman. I thought EPW was an organization where you fought not complain about politics and being held down. Seems like this is a grumble thing for Anthology, please someone hear our plea. Well I hear you loud and clear Cat and I intend to use ‘Barb’ to shut your mouth up. I didn’t want to believe it before but I guess the cat was right you guys do have an exaggerated ego. Like Fuse and Black stated we are not going to just sit idle while you guys pick us off one by one.<o></o>
<o></o>
[Omega sighs as he sets ‘Barb’ on the car.] <o></o>
<o></o>
OMEGA: It’s funny how guys seem to think that I am some guy that they have seen from their past escapades. You’re right Cat I do like pain. It gives me a sense of euphoria, whether I’m receiving it or causing it. Now Arnaky can not be compared to Omega, I will say that. Anarky doesn’t see the things that I see. He is blinded by revenge and rage against Anthology I on the other hand don’t care about any of you. I am coming in that ring to execute the game plan that ‘Barb’ has laid out for me and that’s all that needs to be done.<o></o>
<o></o>
OMEGA: The problem is that your egos have clouded your senses. Any man would look in that ring and see three men that have nothing to lose in the match and think twice. Three men that would go all out and do anything to not see a Anthology member walk out of this match a winner. Cat I assure you that I am not a betting man but if I were I would always bet on black.<o></o>
<o></o>
[Omega smiles at the camera.]<o></o>
<o></o>
OMEGA: Fusenhoff your such a funny guy. Do you think that you are the first person to try and imitate me? I can’t say that I’m flattered but I can say that every man that has opposed me has been changed forever. And the four men in this match will not be the same. Fuse do you think that you have totally gotten away from Stalker? My friend you are dead wrong. This new attitude of yours is a direct effect of your long year with Stalker. You didn’t break away from Stalker, you actually have a little Stalker in you. But as for me I’m not Stalker’s pet. He gives me guidance and shows me what I need to do to complete certain goals. Basically he gives me the tools I need to succeed. The same thing he was trying to give you but you failed to understand. But Fuse I like you because you have guts. Too bad they will be spilled all over the ring at Aggression forty-nine. Even though I want to bash your head in Fuse, ‘Barb’ said I need to play nice until Edmunds and Copycat are long gone. What ever ‘Barb’ wants she gets. We will deal with each other after Anthology is dealt with.<o></o>
<o></o>
[Omega slides off the hood of the car.]<o></o>
<o></o>
OMEGA: Black I would love to have some of that stuff you are on because whatever it is you are definitely floating in air. Erik I know you will come in the ring and do what you do best and that’s fill everyone’s lungs with that sticky icky. But you have to realize that if you are not in the right mind in this match. Hell I’m never in the right mind so I guess that doesn’t apply to the two of us. Black I will see you in the ring with all your fire blazing goodness.<o></o>
<o></o>
OMEGA: I just love howeveryone in this match doesn’t think we stand a chance ‘Barb’. I like being the underdog in every match that I’ve been in here. See when people take me for granted bad things usually happens. And that’s when I am usually at my best. I’ve already beaten two former EPW World Champions in one on one matches. But these type of matches are more my style. Controlled Chaos is what I would call it so Fuse, Copycat, Black, and Edmunds prepare for the beginning of the end.<o></o>
<o></o>
[Camera fades out as Omega grabs ‘Barb’ and walks in the opposite direction.]<o></o>

TheOriginalSE · Dec 13, 2009

C'mon...

(CUTTO: A royal blue background, a logo for EPW Aggression centered. Standing before it, "Simply Sensational" Sean Edmunds.)

EDMUNDS: "Judgment day is almost upon you three. The course has been set, and Erik Black, Omega, and Fusenshoff are locked in... being led to slaughter under the false impression that an Intercontinental championship shot is within their grasps."

(He folds his arms across his chest.)

EDMUNDS: "Alexander the Great once said, "I am never afraid of an army of Lions led into battle by a Lamb. I fear more the army of Lambs who have a Lion to lead them.." So here you are.. lions being led into battle by Lindsay Troy... the biggest lamb of them all. Instead of confronting Anthology herself, she hides behind her so-called power trying to weaken us."

(He looks back at the Aggression logo.)

EDMUNDS: "San Diego is going to witness Troy's ploy fall apart at the feet of Copycat and Sean Edmunds. Erik Black will stumble. Omega will flail around helplessly... And Fusenshoff ... he'll get what's coming to him. A week late, but deserving nonetheless."

(He turns his back to the logo.)

EDMUNDS: "So the world will watch with bated breath to see the Cat and myself put on a TRUE wrestling spectacle. The fans' soak up the destruction of the sport by guys like Omega and Anarky. They revel in the disrespect that Fusenshoff showers the ring with. The wrestling revival lies within Anthology."

(Edmunds pulls a stool from off screen and centers it. He plops down on it.)

EDMUNDS: "Omega, buddy. I appreciate your tenacity ... the fact that you have come out and acquiesced with your opponents in believing that you will find it within yourselves to bind together and eliminate the only two men in the ring that are worth a damn. But then again, everything coming out of your mouth is contradicted only a few moments later by something else... So I apologize if Copycat and I may seem to take you for granted... much like we can't possibly take Erik Black as a serious threat to our in-ring dominance, we can't take you seriously either."

(He picks up his feet from the ground and places them on the rung in the bottom of the stool.)

EDMUNDS: "So where do we go from here, fellas? Copycat and I are coming into that ring with the wind at our backs, ready to blow through Lindsay's lamest ... (pauses to correct himself) latest toys. Funny how people say that Anthology has become the play-thing of Sean Stevens ... when you all grovel at the feet of a woman trying to keep her name in the forefront of a business that she helped place six feet under."

(He stands, and as he does, the stool falls over. He walks up to the camera.)

EDMUNDS: "Troy sees Anthology as a threat to her legacy. With Sean Stevens as part of Anthology... and with Anthology restoring this promotion to its rightful place as the premiere place for WRESTLING ... Troy sits in her office nibbling on her nails ... hoping that she doesn't fall prey to the fans' indifference. Someone newer... someone better has come to Empire Pro .. and now she's living proof of what I've been saying since the beginning.."

(He stares, unblinkingly.)

EDMUNDS: "The fans don't care about Erik Black. They don't care about Omega. They don't care about Fusenshoff. They don't care about the sport and what people like me, Copycat and Jared Wells have sacrificed for it. At Aggression.. Anthology comes one step closer to ridding Empire Pro of the diseases that hinder it.."

(Edmunds turns his head, looking off camera.)

EDMUNDS: "Don't adjust your television sets ... I ... Copycat ... Anthology... ARE this SENSATIONAL."

(Fadeout)

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AGGRESSION 49: Five Man Scramble for Shot at Intercontinental Title

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