BRAWLHALLA: Asgard

[jediPREZ]

RP DEADLINE: 2/20 (11:59:59 PM Astral Standard Time, threads close first thing Thursday AM!)
IN-STORY DATE: Show 1 - 2/9, Show 2 - 2/16
RP NOTES: THREE RP LIMIT!

NEW FRONTIER WRESTLING PRESENTS:
NFW RAGNAROCK 2013!
Open Invitation to all wrestlers!

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

BRAWLHALLA NIGHT 1
Hartwall Arena - Helsinki, Finland

ROOK’S GAUNTLET!
(Winner of the Fatal 4-Way Match faces Triple Crown Champ ROOK BLACK at the end of the night)
LEYENDA DE OCHO v. JESSE RAMEY v. BOOGIE SMALLZ v. ORANGE DRAGON II

NFW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP
IMPULSE © vs. LEGION

MAIN EVENT - TRIPLE CROWN CHAMPIONSHIP
ROOK BLACK © vs. WINNER OF GAUNTLET

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

BRAWLHALLA NIGHT 2
Telenor Arena - Oslo, Norway

MAIN EVENT - EMT CHAMPIONSHIPS
SUPERFLY EXPRESS © vs. ATKEN/ALEXANDER

THE OSLO ACCORD PRESIDENT’S DAY CHALLENGE
EDDIE MAYFIELD (P) vs. TBD

DIRTY MONEY vs. POWERGODZ

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Cards Subject to Change...​

'PREZ' NOTES:

EVERYONE IN NFW: You know the drill -- FIGHT FOR YOUR HONOR! This will be a 2-SHOW Odin Country run w/ a thematic concept of LIVE ROCK N' ROLL + LIVE NFW = RAGNAROCK!

ANYONE OUTSIDE NFW: NFW continues to put out an 'OPEN CHALLENGE' to the world wanting an opportunity to compete in New Frontier Wrestling. Anyone and everyone is invited. If it's just to hang out for this tour, that's cool. If this might be a place for you in 2013, that's cool too. ALL FUN -- NO COMMITMENTS. Of course, for those of you 'deposed' by our current PRESIDENT, this is also your shot for REVENGE.

HOLLA!: Depending on the RP thread's development, I will add matches to the main note. Both nights have more than a few open slots left out there for new talent, returning NFWites, or any other madness Ragnarock can spring. If there's any questions, shoot me a PM or IM.

 

[User Poets]

Strength and Honor

"This will not do."

"Three shows announced, one World Title defense, zero main events."

"Something is going to give."

(FADEIN...

Interior of EMMA.

No, it's not an adult film. Grow up.

This is the Espoo Museum of Modern Art in downtown Helsinki. Temperature outside currently reads a balmy negative five degrees Celsius and there's snow coming down, so water polo and European Soccer are off the checklist for this trip.

That's fine, though. Indoor activities and the like. As your World Champion, I'm proud to say I can enjoy myself in any city I find myself.)

"I'm not lighting this bag on fire and dropping it on Rook Black's front stoop, or putting ex lax in the SupaFly special brownie stash: the Express are the World Tag Team Champions and Rook has held his title - plus the title it was spawned from - longer than any other Champion currently wearing gold today in this sport. They've earned the right to main event a show."

"But I'm the New Frontier World Champion, and that's a different story."

"I require of myself, to be able to be the Last Man Standing."

"I require of myself, that anything the rest of this company can do, I can do better."

"Legion, this shot for you was a long time in the coming. I'm glad that I'm finally able to fulfill a promise that I made a long time ago, before this company's direction was sent into a tailspin."

"As long as the rumors aren't true, and that you're not really Larry Windham, third cousin to the Clan, you'll have a fair shot at the New Frontier World title, and you'll get the absolute best from me."

"Of course, I haven't pulled myself from the bottom of this company all the way to the very top to fall so quickly, and that's the real crux of the matter."

"I've missed two shows after the Cutting Room Floor. To me, that makes me 0 and 2, and the New Frontier deserves better with me as its Champion. Not only will I be defending this belt against Legion on Night One, but I have to defend at least one more time on this tour, just to break even."

Yes, I said at least once more.

"So that's where we stand. Legion, you'll get your shot, and while I hope you make the most of it as I'm a fan of your creativity, tenacity, and loyalty to this company, I'm also forced as the holder of the title, the most prestigious Championship belt in the industry, to inform you that I fully intend to leave Helsinki as the New Frontier's World Champion."

"I'm going to successfully defend this title against you here in Helsinki, Legion."

"And then, perhaps I'll do it again."

"In Helsinki."

"Oslo? You're next. I don't intend to try and muscle Nova and Jack Harmen out of the Main Event: as I said, they have every right to be there, but before they dazzle Norway, Norway will be graced with another World Title defense."

"I fought to win this belt."

"And I'm going to fight to keep it."

FADE

 

[Legion]

Re: Strength and Honor

[We fade in to see Legion sitting cross legged on a floor, he’s wearing a High On Fire t-shirt – the Masters Of Reality spoof one – and blue jeans but he’s barefoot.]

Legion: The first night I met you Randall you were still under the mask you were wearing to keep your credo of ‘The Messenger is not important’ alive, you came over and shook my hand and wished me luck with the two matches I had that night particularly one against Rook Black.

Not long after that I came to you after you had become the Marathon Man and I said to you that one day you would become one of THE people to watch in this business. The titles then piled up for you and now you are exactly what I predicted would happen.

An icon of this business.

The man that has NEVER embraced his dark side even after JJ Deville tried to tear your soul down, after all that you wouldn’t hit him with the chair, now some would call that cowardice but I, I commend it – once again you stick true to the creed you created for yourself.

Yet even with all the respect we have for each other – going so far as to make sure you honoured a deal you made to me LONG ago – you said one thing recently that made the rage start to boil – I’ve never been considered a top contender.

This is my 2nd chance at the NFW world title – yes, the first time ended up being more an initiation into the guild before Eric Dane shot it all to hell but this time there’s a slight difference..

Now you’re thinking that I’m going to have the Graverobbers get involved. That isn’t happening UNLESS any member of Castor’s Guild or The Hellfire Club try to interfere because what I know is that you want this to be as clean as possible but let me make a few things clear for you:

1. I will fight as hard as I can to win – whether that is using the Pentagram Choke or a bit of Strong Style I will do anything to get the win on fair terms.

2. You WILL start to embrace a dark side when fighting me – everyone does no matter how small and unintentional it’s claimed to be.

And finally that no matter what happens – at the end I WILL shake your hand, no tricks.

Chaos may rule everything around me and Randall it’s your time to fully see what I mean because I am Legion – No windham blood [he smiles], just pure wrestling.

 

[Jesse Ramey]

Re: Strength and Honor

The scene opened somewhere deep within the Laos jungle. Jesse Ramey, having been stranded by LEYENDA DE OCHO is now left to try and find a way out of the jungle. Ramey looked very distraught at his current predicament, but the cogs were definitely still turning. He turned to look at the camera man.

“Wasn’t it your job to keep an eye on De Ocho?” Ramey questioned the camera man very sternly, but there was no response from him. “You know, this whole silent treatment thing; it’s really starting to get under my skin. We’re stuck in the freaking jungle, and you’re going to hold to the portion of your contract that says you’re not going to interact with the talent?”

Ramey chuckled and shook his head; his clothes had now been reduced to tatters. His jeans now ripped and jagged at the knee. His white button down shirt open exposing his chest, sleeves ripped clean off, and stained almost dark brown color that would likely never be the same again. His long sandy blonde hair and full beard were both very unkempt. His body looked to be stained with the same dirty tone as his clothes.

A small amount of branches and leaves rested at an angle between two trees in the background, underneath a pile of leaves rested. This had obviously been the place Ramey was calling home the past couple of nights, almost nearing a week in the wilderness.

“You can stick to your code if you like,” Ramey began speaking again, “but as far as I’m concerned you’re not going to have a job when I get us out of this situation anyway. It was your job to make sure we all stuck together; it was your job to make sure that this ‘competition’ went off without a hitch.”

“Instead,” Ramey continued, “you left everyone run off and probably find their way back into the ‘safe zone’ and here we’re stuck within the wilderness of a foreign country. We don’t know if there are men walking through these jungles with guns, and do we have any to combat against them?”

Ramey looked around, pointed at his little shelter, and then turned back to the camera man smiling.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Ramey chuckled, “but I’m sure we can fashion together a few branches with some of our shoe strings and maybe use them as swords against them. At least we’d be putting up the good fight right? We’d look like escaped lunatics running at men with guns, waving our crudely fashioned weapons, and one by one being shot until we drop to our knees.”
“You don’t look like the type that would be able to survive a bullet wound,” Ramey tapped on two scars on his chest, “me on the other hand. I’ve already survived two; I don’t think a few more is going to bring me down.”

“You know the next show is going to happen in Finland.” The camera man finally spoke up.

This bit of information sparked Ramey’s attention, so much that he even began to look very angry.

“Just exactly how do you know this?” Ramey questioned the camera man. “You haven’t said anything for the past five days, and now you’re going to offer up this ever so useful information? How do you know that?”

The camera man slowly and very cautiously produced a cell phone from his pocket, “Management has been keeping tabs on me ever since we ‘disappeared’. They told me to just keep my mouth shut, keep the camera rolling, and that this would make for good reality television type stuff.”

Ramey blinked heavily for a few moments before finally mustering up the ability to speak again.

“So, we’re done with their little experiment then?” Ramey questioned the camera man again, “Now all you need to do is just send off one final quick text message and they’ll just swoop down and save us, rescuing me in just the right amount of time to make it to Finland for this upcoming show. That was the plan, yes?”

“Yes,” The camera man started, “listen I’m really sorry Mr. Ramey, but this is what they wanted to do. They felt that this could draw ratings, as sort of a real life Survivor scenario, especially if you didn’t know it was being staged. They just wanted me here to make sure you were safe and that you’d be able to make it to Finland for your match.”

“Oh,” Ramey chuckled, “and what match would that be exactly?”

“You’re slated to go up against LEYNDA DE OCHO, BOOGIE SMALLZ, and ORANGE DRAGON II in a fatal four way match.” The camera man told Ramey with little hesitation, and then continued, “The winner of the match will go on to headline the show that night in a match against Rook Black for the Triple Crown Championship.”

Ramey nodded his head at the thought of being able to go up against Rook Black. He then quickly wrestled the cellphone the camera man was holding out of his hands, and smashed it against a rock.

“What are you doing?” The camera man shouted, “That was our only ticket out of this place!”

“They want me ready for this fatal four way and Rook Black,” Ramey smiled, “then what better way to prepare myself than to do it here? You better keep that camera rolling, this is going to be like if Rocky were to meet Predator, and that is Grade A material.”

“DE OCHO,” Ramey continued, “you left me in this jungle. I don’t know if it was because you were told to do it, or if you thought getting rid of me would make it easier for you to clinch that victory and go on to face Rook Black for the Triple Crown title.”

“I also know you’re a lot of things shy of a Happy Meal,” Ramey contemplated, “actually come to think of it the only thing in your box is probably the toy. You’re little theories about life being like a video game, aren’t going to save you when you step foot into the center of that ring.”

“I don’t need to tell you that though,” Ramey smiled, “you learned that during our last six man tag match. You’ll continue to learn it when we step back in that ring together. All of your dreams of becoming the Triforce Champion are going to vanish in a puff of smoke. Just like the magician your mom hired for your fifth birthday party, only he didn’t vanish, you found him fifteen minutes after the puff of smoke cleared; banging your mom in the bathroom.”

“Orange Dragon II,” Ramey thought for a moment, “I can’t even understand half of what you say. Let alone what you’ve done to have to be labeled as number two. Where you just not good enough to be number one? Did you not pass all of the ninja tests in the same amount of time as everyone else? Did the real Orange Dragon beat you out by a point of a second to acquire the real deal name?”

Ramey shrugged, “Who really cares.”

“Boogie Smallz,” Ramey smiled, “it’s about time for that rematch. I doubt the outcome is going to be the same as the last time.”

“And finally, the man I’m going to be facing in the main event, and walking away with his title.” Ramey winked at the camera, “Let’s give the people a little history lesson here. This won’t be the first time we’ve ever stepped into that ring together, will it Rook?”

Ramey shook his head, “Nope, but I doubt anyone remembers the first time we fought. Tuesday Night Wrestling twenty-one. In a company, the likes of which I’ve discussed before. Sometimes you’re the top of the world, and sometimes you’re the door stop. I’ve always been the door stop, despite the fact that I’ve got more talent in one of my fingers than the majority of you had in your entire arsenals.”

“I was made to lose to you in the Squared Circle, Rook.” Ramey shook his head, “It was either lose to you and every other member of that roster, or out on the street without a job I would have went. This is so much different, and a heck of a lot more fun. They may try to manipulate me here, like leaving me stranded in this jungle, but I’m the one manipulating the system.”

“I don’t have to play by their rules,” Ramey smiled, “I’ve already let the fans watching at home in the know. There is no turning back now. I don’t need to be under a contract with NFW, I can continue doing what I want, when I want, how I want. I can buck the system, and if I end up not showing up on a show because I’ve done that then it only proves what I say here right.”

“So, just remember that Rook. When I make my way through three other men, to come face to face with you for that Triple Crown Championship; this isn’t going to be a repeat of TNW. I’m not being made to lay down to you in this match; this is going to be a fight.” Ramey chuckled, “You want to boast about being the current longest reigning champion and most undefeatable man in NFW. Now, it’s time to actually put that to the test.”

“I’m not afraid of admitting someone is better than me Rook,” Ramey paused, “I just want a fighting chance to be able to prove the opposite. This is my chance to prove that all of those years ago, I could have beaten you if I were only given the chance and not used as the door stop. This is my chance to continue to add silver to my waist.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Ramey slowly looked at his surroundings, “just as soon as I can figure my own way out of this forsaken jungle.”

The scene faded to black.

 

[fugginVOSS]

Re: Strength and Honor

[FADE IN: on a dimly lit room. The lighting comes from below, casting luminous shadows upwards against the walls. Sitting in the centre of the room, on a steel chair, a monster leans forward on his elbows with his head down. Wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the sleeves crudely cut off, they do not show their face. But from the sheer size of him you can almost tell immediately who it is without discovering their face. Their broad shoulders. Monstrous frame. Tree trunk legs. He slowly rises his head to show your immediate conclusions were correct. TEDDY ALEXANDER. Bags beneath his eyes, wicked glint lighting from within, sadistic grin spread across his face. He IS the Spinal Smash Monger.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“Jack. In Laos, when I tossed you like a rag doll body from da top of da cage through those tables I PROVED somethin’ to you.

“I warned you, Jack. I WARNED you but you failed to listen to da warnin’.

“I proved, in Laos, I don’t need to hear da bell toll in my favour... I don’t need to have my wrist raised... I DON’T need da one-two-three to win.

“Da record books might tell one story but your night in Laos’ finest medical facility sings a different song.”

[Sits up straight. Pounds his chest with a massive fist.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“I won da battle. And I will win da war.

“And if da sounds of tables smashin’ around your stupid head aren’t loud enough to sing my song, Jack, I went down, when my pal Phil Atken was kickin’ Nova’s ass in dat ring, and delivered an Angerbash kick da world KNEW was comin’.

“When Nova’s head was laid over da apron da last thing dat went through his mind, right before my foot, was these belts are gonna come off.”

[Snicker.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“Never come off. You keep sayin’ dat. It’s like your idiotic little mantra. It’s like some dronin’ autistic sittin’ in da corner of da room. It’s not a promise. No.” (Dikembe finger waggle)

“It’s a stoic reminder to you of your mortality and you’re about to come up against da most vicious, powerful monster da New Frontier has ever had on its roster.” (nods his head in testament to his own words)

“Never come off. I bet you think da same thing about your head. Just ask Nova, when size fifteen boot was driven through his skull, if he thought his head was gonna come off.”

[Sadistic grin.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“Never come off. Keep tellin’ yourself dat. You need all da positive affirmation you can get right now. If you’ve survived smashin’ through those tables, if you’ve survived havin’ your brain scrambled like an egg with an Angerbash kick, if you’ve survived a night in a Laotian hospital, da next thing... da VERY – NEXT – THING ...you’ve got to survive, Superfly Express, is ME! Is Phil.

“And you’ll soon find yourself in a little padded room, arms wrap tight around your body, havin’ had your mind shattered in dat ring from da Ragekill Driver, chantin’ your little chant and wonderin’ what went wrong.

[Snarl.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“I’ll tell you what went wrong. Never comes off. You have dis little runnin’ joke. Everybody’s laughin’. What are da Superfly Express gonna do? What’ll they do next? They’re so wild and zany I just can’t wait to see it.

“Da joke – is – over.

“Da only somebody’s laughin’ by da time da final bell tolls in Oslo, Norway, will be me and Phil Atken. Coz I’ll have kicked those stupid smiles to da other sides of your faces.

“Da jokes on you. There’s no more laughin’. Oslo, Norway, will be forever known as da night dat da Superfly Express lost their smiles. Dat da Frontier lost their resident clowns. Your red noses won’t be da end result of an hour in make-up. Nor will da black and blue round your eyes. Your faces will be white from fear as you stand on da other side of da ring, eyeballin’ da end of your title reign, perhaps da end of your miserable little lives.

“You’ll be thinkin’ to yourselves What did we do to deserve an endin’ like dis?”

[Gutteral snarl.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER: (spitting words like poison)
“I’ll tell you what you DID to deserve dis. You STOLE our championships. You STOLE our belts. When dat little bastard, Calvin Carlton, saw dat you couldn’t get things done on your own and entered his hand in to your favour you deserved dis.

“He knew you couldn’t do it without him.

“I know you couldn’t do it without him.

“YOU know.

“Never come off. Dis is your chance, Superfly, to keep those belts on your own terms without needin’ some little miscreant to swing da racquet in your favour. Those people might be buyin’ your shirts, chantin’ your name, laughin’ at your stupid jokes but it’ll be me and Phil who have da last laugh.

“What you’re lookin’ at, right now, Jack... Nova... is one half of da NEW Everette Memorial Champions of da New Frontier.

“And then, Superfly Express, THEN you’ll see. THEN you’ll know. When those EMTs are wrapped around mine and Phil’s waists dat finally, those titles... they really NEVER – COME – OFF!”

[TEDDY stands up and lets the hood fall back, revealing a neck brace which has “EMT” scrawled across the front of it. He raises his hands high above his head, holding two more neck braces. One reads “NOVA” and the other “FLYER”. Amped up, he can barely stay still as the monster within seems to be overcoming him.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“LET DA BODIES – HIT – DA FLOOOOOOOR!”

[He tosses the neck braces down and makes an almost cutthroat belt gesture at his waist. Mule kicks the steel chair away from himself and rips the sweatshirt right off his back, revealing his massive frame. Hands balled into fists he slowly rises his right hand and points down the barrel of the camera right at the SUPERFLY EXPRESS.]

[FADE to BLACK!]

 

[Jesse Ramey]

Re: Strength and Honor

The scene opens back up into the jungles of Laos. Ramey seated under his shelter.

“It has come to my attention,” Ramey started, “and yes things can come to my attention here. That little fancy camera does a lot more than transmit my smiling face into your living rooms while I’m stuck here. They also make sure that it receives things that I need to see as well.”

“Rook Black,” Ramey smiled, “Randall. You think that I’m a nut job? That I’ve got a few screws loose? That’s fine with me, but don’t think for one second that the fact that I brought up that I took a loss to you in the Squared Circle eight or nine years ago and said it was booked that I’m calling foul play.”

“Because I’m not,” Ramey paused, “it’s all a part of this business. I was under contract with the Squared Circle when I got my shoulders pinned to that mat by you. This isn’t something we’re supposed to talk about, we’re not supposed to break the fantasy, but I’m not the type of person who really cares about breaking the fourth wall.”

“The NFW fans base aren’t twelve years old,” Ramey scoffed, “we appeal to a smarter fan base. That’s obvious because people who portray themselves to be intellectual, such as you, are over. Why not have someone with the guts enough to stand up and tell them that.”

“This is a smark driven business,” Ramey leaned in near the camera, “when everyone in this industry finally begins to understand that then maybe we’ll get somewhere. Our matches are booked, and for the most part staged for that matter. Does that take away from the fact that there is a ton of stuff that we do inside of that ring that other people can’t do? No, it doesn’t.”

“That’s what keeps bringing people back week in and week out,” Ramey smiled, “it’s not the fantasy of being engulfed in what we’re doing. It’s the fantasy of wanting to be us and be able to do what we do. People don’t want to be intellectuals; they don’t want to be masked luchadors who think the world is a video game.”

“At least not all of them do; I’m sure there are a lot of little children who do watch NFW, and if you want to pander to that crowd that’s fine.” Ramey came back to a resting position, “That’s not the fan base that I’m here to appeal to though. I want to appeal to the fans who have been watching wrestling since they were twelve and have twelve year olds of their own now.”

“For the man who is stuck working a nine to five that he hates doing, but he’s got to do it to keep the bread on the table and the roof over his head.” Ramey smiled, “For the fan who knows that what we do albeit not fake, is not complete fantasy to them.”

“So, you all stay in character all you want,” Ramey furled his eyebrows a bit, “but as far as me bitching about having to take a loss to you eight or nine years ago. That wasn’t a complaint; I did that because I was told to do it. I was happy to do that because of the stage I was being put on. I was being paid well to do that kind of stuff; hell if you got back and look at my record in that company I was on the better end of a losing streak.”

“That’s never stopped the fans from cheering for me though,” Ramey smiled once again, “that’s because the fans that are cheering for me know that inside of that ring I’m better than anyone else. I go into the ring and I leave my heart and soul on that mat. Anyone in this company does, and that’s what keeps people coming back and watching the shows.”

“Doesn’t matter if you’re a good guy or a bad guy,” Ramey stroked his grungy beard, “eventually the people are going to come around to what I’m preaching. A lot of people already are, and that’s because they’ve been fans of this business long enough to know what I’m saying is the truth.”

“In Finland,” Ramey continued, “I’m going to make my way through three other men to come face to face with you Rook in the main event. I’m going to take your Triple Crown Championship, because I am the better wrestler inside of that ring. This isn’t boasting this is truth; this is a fact. Then when I’m finished I’m going on to win the Grand Prix and Impulse is next on the list.”

“You’ve all been getting by in NFW for so long because you’ve never had to deal with someone on my level.” Ramey smiled, “A lot of talented men have stepped foot inside of this company. They’ve never gone anywhere because they’ve allowed themselves to be subjected to the fact that they are placed in a box they can’t get out of. I’m not subject to the stuff your management tells me to do, I’m not going to be put in a box. So, deal with that however you want to, because in the end the results are going to be the same no matter what. I will be the Triple Crown Champion by the end of this tour and then I’m coming for the World Championship.”

The scene fades to black.

 

[brusch]

Re: Strength and Honor

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”

(The camera opens to Leyenda de Ocho on a snowy rooftop in Helsinki. He wears a forest green mask with a golden triforce emblazoned upon the forehead with beams emanating from the sides. He wears a matching forest green winter coat, heavy white pants and brown winter boots. He looks across the skyline, seeming to ponder at how much more sky you can see here compared to Chicago, as the sun rises in the distance.)

Ocho: “But that’s the way all quests should be. The moment it becomes a walk in the park is the moment the quest loses its purpose. The difficulty of the journey defines the magnitude of the reward…and so, it comes as quite expected news that the first iconic goal of mine in NFW, that glorious Triforce that calls out like a princess in another castle, comes with a heavy road to travel.

I’ve already traveled a good portion of that road. The Grand Prix is filled to the brim with worthy challengers in a list that seems to grow by the day. I’ve crossed swords with a sea of unique characters with their own iconic goals, their own journeys, and it has led me here at last…at last, to that day where the light at the end of the tunnel shines like the rising sun itself.

But WOW is there a tough road still to go…”

(Ocho raises his head and closes his eyes, basking in the growing sunlight. The gold on his mask glitters powerfully as he absorbs the enormity of the task ahead.)

Ocho: “Orange Dragon II is a man I respect both in the ring and out. He is a man who knows himself truly, who comes here with a wealth of experience…and a man who has had the humility and generosity to declare me the unquestioned favorite in this match. While I do appreciate the sentiment, Dragon-san, you don’t know much about me if you believe I am treating this match as a tune up for the end game. Far from it, in fact – every step along the way, every moment in the journey is one of full immersion of my heart and mind. I know the talents you possess, I know the abilities you bring with you – and I absolutely know better than to overlook you. No ire has been drawn, and I look forward to the battle we will wage together.

Boogie Smallz needs no introduction…anyone who knows anything about wrestling knows what Boogie is capable of. He is a behemoth, a fact that will be all too prevalent in a match against three cruiserweights. A man certainly capable of winning any match he enters…but a man with too much temper. Too much ego. Too much misguided and wasted anger that blinds his vision, anger that causes him to make mistakes that limit the greatness of a man with his talents. I know better than to disrespect you, Boogie, and everyone in this match should know how much of a one-man-battalion you can be in a ring…but we will be ready. I will be ready. My eyes are open to the threat you pose and I stand before you unafraid…for in all quests, giants must be slain.

Jesse Ramey…Jesse Ramey…you’re still in Laos?? Your reactions to your present circumstances tell me everything I need to know about you...you’re a man made out of pure stubbornness. I can personally relate to a steadfast and hardheaded belief system, an attitude of sticking to one’s guns…but my friend, you take it too far. You are either unwilling or unable to see the vast world of possibilities that wrestling presents and instead live in a mental prison of your own creation, one that has apparently breached the physical boundaries of your brain and are causing a new sort of physical prison in the jungle. What started as a lighthearted trick that I played on you in a game that we all knew would have no winner has turned into something far worse, far more sad and sinister than I ever intended – but I will not pity you or regret a thing I’ve done. You are at a point in your journey where your obstinate closed-mindedness is turning into your undoing. We battle in the ring, we forge our own destinies – and nothing is pre-determined. If and when I win the fatal fourway and go on to face Rook Black for the Triforce, it will NOT be because any powers-that-be believe I was the inevitable favorite going in – it will be because I will have earned it. Fair and square.”

(Ocho turns to the camera, the Triforce on his mask dominating the picture as a twinkle lights in Ocho’s emerald eyes. He attempts to put on a stoic face, but his excitement betrays a grin.)

Ocho: “Final Boss, your time is coming. I’ve told you before that there’s only one way this can end – and I think in your heart of hearts, you must know this to be true. You hold onto something precious, something of enormous symbolic value to me. And you will find, like every hero whose story has become ingrained into the very fibers of my heart – I will be tireless in my pursuit. Tireless, not for my own personal glory. Tireless, because I believe you’ve warped this symbol of purity into a symbol of darkness. Patience, cunning, ruthlessness – these are the virtues of a man who has lost his way. A man who has succumbed to a dark place…a place that has certainly given you great power, Rook. Any man who would deny the immense success you’ve gained these several years would be ignorant and foolish to do so, and I would be just as great a fool if I were to throw down my own proverbial Gauntlet and say I Will Win Because I Want It More.

No…this is as much a mental battle as it will be a physical one. A chess so pure that Kasparov would appreciate it. Power, wisdom, courage – THESE are the virtues that I will restore to your championship. THESE are the things most important to me, as a wrestler and as a man.

Maybe the reason you’ve held the title for so many years is because you’ve been waiting for an opponent like me…maybe you’ve been waiting for a Player One to finally emerge and give you the challenge that a man of your ruthless talents deserve. A Player One who can finally vanquish you, who can relieve you of the burden of your crown.

Well Rook…”

(CUT TO: Extreme close-up of Ocho’s bright green eyes.)

Ocho: “Your wait is over.”

(Fade to black.)

 

[JBorchard]

Re: Strength and Honor

Dragon II: -- Hai, Mr. Ramey. Such originality seethes from your simple-man vernacular. My predecessor, great talent.-- Myself.-Far greater. You are a legend, Mr. Ramey. A competitor of worth many times removed from his shine. Hai. -- I see tarnish on you, Mr. Ramey. A man who chooses to say he does not understand my words often fall to them rather handily. While you decree yourself want of all things.--Rematches with Boogie Smallz, a fast track to Mr. Black.-- Do you not notice that simplicity does not rule this New Frontier?

Every man, complex. Every breath, hinged on what is not said. Hai, and in your haste to question me, I beg of you to answer this one question. What is half a dozen of another?

[Finger up, wagging it back and forth.]

Dragon II: -- Answer. You. Hai. You and one Boogie Smallz. In one giant rice bowl among other grains of rice. No difference in taste. No distinct look. Hai, just two long-timers who carry great resumes, yet could be much more. My legacy as Orange Dragon II is the beacon of light the New Frontier will be scorched by. My fire. My talent. All the simple words you spool from a thin and worn piece of thread does not keep you warm this bout. This thread you weave will not be enough to cloth into. Hai, - you Ramey, just not good enough to be anything but a busted yolk. A runny, messy yolk. And placing all your eggs in one basket will be your greatest oversight, Mr. Ramey. - By the by, you left ME in Jungle and therefore, you will pay a most steep debt.

[Chin-rub]

Dragon II: -- Leyenda, with all due respect, you continue to overlook me. Do you not understand like Mr. Ramey? Hai, every word from under your identity should come honey-dripped towards the magnificent Orange Dragon II. While I admire your attempt to disprove me, I know in your mind that you believe I am not a threat! HAI! -- Do not patronize me! I will not be coddled nor ego-massaged by tricksters, HAI! This bout, Frontiersmen, will be a course of action that will eternally be absorbed into the footnotes of Frontier Folklore. Years from the date, spectators will richly sing the praises of the marvel that is Orange Dragon II. -- The greatest flightmaster, ever. Surrender your sponges and bathe in the fire that is my breathforce. I am other-worldly. I am the issue at hand, not the brush-off. HAI, so you will learn.

So you will ALL learn.

ABRUPT FEED-CUT.

 

[User Poets]

Slow and Listen.

"The New Frontier publishes a list of top contenders, Legion. Every week, every month, after every live event there's the chance that there's a new Number One."

"Your name has never been on that list. When you have a World Champion like Castor Strife who believes in the marquee matchup, who makes every title defense an event, such a match sticks out."

Don't blame me for the facts being the facts, Legion.

"I don't believe in the marquee matchup as the means and the ends - I believe that a Championship is only as legitimate as the amount of exercise it receives."

"And that means defending it against everyone, from the top to the bottom."

"Again, I mean no disrespect: regardless of your placing on the official rankings, you could very easily walk out of Helsinki as the New Frontier World Champion."

You won't. But you could.

"But I do have to disagree with you, Legion: you told me I would embrace the dark side after this match, just a little. Just a little."

"There was no dark side when I was a Tabula Rasa, a faceless mask trying to make my mark."

"There was no dark side when SARS the Clown spent six weeks proclaiming his overt superiority to this company only for him to crumble when he had to prove it."

"There was no dark side when Eric Dane outsmarted all of us to steal a title shot, only for him to slink back to Deficient Wrestling when it was clear he was outclassed by the New Frontier."

"There was no dark side when the Windham Clan tried to make an example out of me."

"Most of all, there was no dark side when Castor Strife pinned me clean in a straight wrestling match, only for me to come back and beat him in a match of his own design for this very World Title."

"To say nothing of the fact that this is the New Frontier, Legion. This is the place where cages explode, where the Champion can range from a verifiable living legend to a plumber whose personal space can be considered a biohazard area."

"Through it all, I've been patient, unrelenting, and consistent. I have been the Oasis, the Eye of the Storm."

"And you're going to expose a dark side?"

"No."

"You're not."

"I do want to wish you good luck, though. This will be the most challenging match you'll ever have in this company."

"Until the next time you've earned a shot at my World Title, that is."

FADE

 

[Rook Black]

Re: Slow and Listen.

ROOK: "You guys ..."

(FADE IN: ROOK out in the cold and snow and sunshine. He's got black and white track pants, 1080s, and a Triple Crown Championship hooded sweatshirt. Cloudy breath. He's lifting the Triple Crown Championship to his shoulder.)

ROOK: "... are great. New blood is so under appreciated. But you're making me smile, and that's a very special thing these days."

ROOK: "Among the things that you have to worry about with me, is that I plan. I use my imagination to play out plausible scenarios. Who among the FOUR of you in that opening match is most likely to cause lasting injury to the others? Who among you is most likely to hit a high spot that causes collateral damage to his own body? How will that winner use that time during the Impulse defense against Legion. How much time will that match take? Impulse can go beyond an hour, but Legion's explosive style, well, that can't be underestimated either since rage can make that guy find a second and third wind."

ROOK: "What are you going to bring me for that title defense?"

ROOK: "It's said that you have to be a fanatic to make it in this business, to even be an athlete at all really. To really believe that you are who you say you are and allow yourself to exceed every rational expectation and push to the next level."

ROOK: "Jesse believes. Orange Dragon the Second believes. Layenda De Ocho, Player One, most certainly believes. Boogie Smalls might."

ROOK: "That's a lot of power there. A lot of imagination. A lot of determination."

(ROOK sneers.)

ROOK: "I am not a believer, and I have to admit to having quite a bit of contempt for those that are. This is a rational world, a singular reality. I'll use mythology and symbolism when it suits my purposes, my personal agenda, but that's mere ephemera. It's all in your head. And the absolute truth is that we are frail and weak creatures, fighting for survival and openly begging for someone or something out there to give us meaning and relevance."

ROOK: "A close examination of my title defenses, successful as they are, will reveal me rather starkly. Many times, I'd been inches and split seconds from being beaten. Sometimes luck, sometimes manipulation of circumstances, and sometimes a willingness to do anything, stoop to any level, push for any advantage, to keep what's mine."

ROOK: "Because I am not a believer, I have lucked out in avoiding a singular debilitating phenomena. I don't believe my own hype. I approach every defense as the one where I am finally outmatched. And every time, I find a way to come forward by the barest of margins and win."

ROOK: "Streaks are statistically insignificant. Your emotional responses to what you think reality should be cloud your rationality."

ROOK: "The only thing that matters is what you are willing to do to win."

ROOK: "And the lot of you are good, doubtlessly, great even. But you are not prepared for me."

ROOK: "And that's my fault. I've been having a bit of fun dangling the symptoms of my depression out there, playing up the Final Boss mythology. It's a matador move. It's sleight of hand. It's smoke and mirrors."

ROOK: "I chose a deliberately amoral theme for the virtues of this Triple Crown symbol. Not necessarily evil, but certainly not good and heroic. A little hint of the genuine article among the artifice."

ROOK: "The reality of me is cool, unrelenting, absolute focus on what I want:"

ROOK: "My legacy. I have so much still to prove. But it's getting close. I can start to feel it taking shape, this long patient game that I've been building towards. In between the rush of elation just before my matches begin, and the too too brief afterglow once they conclude, carving my legacy into NFW history is what keeps me surviving."

ROOK: "It's what I want more than anything."

ROOK: "I want you to bring your best fight. I want the best of you to stand tall, and come forward with everything he has."

ROOK: "Because the better you are, the better I become. The brighter you burn, the more my legacy will shine."

ROOK: "It's not exactly fair to you guys. You've joined this game in progress, and it's been underway for some time now, and really, there's not a lot you can do at this juncture, since so many pieces on the board have already been moved, and it's too late to take them back."

(ROOK smirks.)

ROOK: "You have no idea of what you are in for."

 

[EastPrez]

ARE YOU A BAD ENOUGH DUDE TO WRESTLE THE PRESIDENT?

(FADEIN: To a black production set, no filler - just darkness. The camera settles on the black for a beat, as a waft of cigarette smoke rolls into the shot. Camera PANS LEFT slightly to reveal 'Hot Property' -slash-NFW President DENNIS EDWARD "EDDIE" MAYFIELD, standing tall, connecting us to the smoldering Camel Red hanging precariously from his lips, smoker's wince on his dark brown bearded face, strawberry-blonde/brown mussed hair. He's wearing a black NFW SONS OF LIBERTTY shirt - A white skull with a bandage going over the forehead/left eye, and two white drumsticks crossing underneath - the only other color is a spot red of blood on the bandage. Underneath in white - 'Fait Accompli'. The darkness makes the skull and words float in the air as MAYFIELD leans forward into the camera, blurring edges of his face, he's so close.)

MAYFIELD: "I can’t tell you how many times people come up to me in airports, or in the street, or on-line at the midnight release of some GameStop exclusive, and ask me the same questions over and over again – ‘Eddie, how does it feel to be NFW President?’ ‘Eddie, what’s it like to never win the BIG BELT?’ ‘Eddie, how can you sit there and be so smug when there are several men who weigh as much as a Honda Fit or mini Cooper want to break your neck for whatever it is they think you’ve done to them?’ (Smiles) Well I’ll tell you this – it’s EASY. It’s REAL easy for me to live in the skin I’m in. My name is Eddie Mayfield – Hot Property if you may, PREZ is the courtesy, and WANTED MAN is allowed.”

“You see, ever since I came back to active wrestling duties – my whole intent was to RID the NFW of the Phantom Windham Menace – AND I DID THAT. Some of you may not LIKE those apples, but that’s your problem, not mine. Troy Windham and his band of goons INVADED this company, damn near took it over, and I made a call – a phone call I NEVER, EVER wanted to make – I called the ONE GUY IN THIS SPORT that Troy Windham couldn’t try and gas – the ONE MAN in this business that Troy couldn’t ‘DIGGITY’ his way through. I called ‘Devastating’ Mike Randalls to come get rid of my cockroach infestation, and some of you at home scratched your head. (scratches head) ‘Mike Randalls? Isn’t he, like, OLD or something? I don’t get it’.”

(Takes a long drag of the Camel Red and winces, looking down, then exhaling.)

“Well for you Eddie-Come-Latelys out there, understand that Troy Windham and I? We go WAYYYY BACK. Before there were PROFESSIONALS, before Eddie and Craig, there was Troy and I. Troy and I? Us going at each other is like watching you fight NEGA-YOU in a video game at the final stage – not much of a difference between a pallette swap – and Troy Windham and I are just like that, ‘cept a few things – Troy was (probably is) a drug and fame addicted narcissist and that put several wrenches in his career that I wasn’t interested in. Me? I liked staying put. (Looks down) To some, that’s a CHARACTER FLAW. To some of the biggest name in this business, that makes me NOT AS GOOD AS THEM, as I kept up a title of Franchise, wherever I was, rather than raiding Osh-Kosh Bgosh feds and bribing them with getting the lights turned off and threatening the booker with incriminating photos of him with the local boyscout troupe for title shots and backstage power. I didn’t feel the need to do all of that. I GOT OVER without that. So when it came time for me to RINSE NFW CLEAN of the CANCERS in the locker room I did that. I got rid of the dildoes, the woody harrelson ponchos, the BULLS[BEEP!]T. NFW became the HUGEST THING IN THE WORLD UNDER MY POWER.

"When the Windham Takeover needed a douche, It didn’t have to be ME squeezing the bottle up inside Troy Windham – what would that prove? I got the man that could END TROY WINDHAMS CAREER WITH NO QUESTIONS, and bring home one of the biggest buyrates in NFW history. The Windhams are gone, and guess what? There’s people in the crowd that MISS IT. I get gallup polls saying ‘Peter Windham is awesome! He should be Commissioner!’ while I’m trying to run these guys out of town. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! (Shakes head) Well if you don’t know ANYTHING else, my first priority in NFW is to do good business. Peter Windham? As much as I hate to admit, you’re good for business – but I’m sure as sh[BLEEP!] not gonna make it easy on you. You wanna be Commissioner? The last Commissioner did his job from a wheelchair. I LIKED Mike Manson – what do you think I’m gonna do to YOU to let you keep this job?”

“So that brings us to now, and RAGNAROCK 2013. Do I think I’m one of the top-tier names in this business? (nods) most definitely. I have the OMG Moments and the accolades and some belts to go with that, and what I have now that makes you ALL so upset, is the big office with my name on the door that says (runs his hands through the air) “Dennis Edward Mayfield – New Frontier Wrestling President”. THAT says that I’M THE MUTHER FU[BLEEEEP!] END OF LINE around here. Some of you have a PROBLEM with that – some guys in the back have ALWAYS had a problem with little ol’ Eddie Mayfield and that’s fine. You don’t make a cake without opening a box and pouring cake mix into a bowl, but you could also BUY a cake and get a better result, yet it’s not as impressive to dinner guests. I’m standing here, on the top of the biggest company in wrestling, with a APC full of new talent and a locker room full of people who think they are OWED something a chance. A free shot. A shot for you to come out here and take my open challenge to get in the ring and air your grievances with the boss.

“You don’t like the way you’re marketed? Come out here and do something about it. You think you’re getting slighted? Mad I lost your application in the mail? Lost in the sauce? My favorite—DE-PUSHED? (Smiles) Well I invite you all to come on out and MAKE YOURSELVES KNOWN. Come down and SEE ME – consider this my NFW Open Door Policy – because after this tour? If you think I owe you something and you don’t NUT UP, to borrow a line from Jack Bryant – than please, SHUT UP. NFW has for YEARS left our gate wide open to the biggest draws in this industry, and sometimes – heh- IT DOESN’T WORK OUT. Eric Whats’-his-face, GONE. Dan Mumble mumble, GONE. HORNET, Triple X, etc. WINDHAM CLAN - ALL GONE. Impulse, Castor, Mike Manson, Shane Southern, Nova – JTP – HOUSEHOLD NAMES. That’s the measuring stick. NFW IS the yardstick in this business. That shows you how dope we are, and how easy it is to shoot holes in your ego or your puffed-up resume from the Macaroni Noodle Art Federation – NFW is the only thing that matters. You think I’m full of sh[BLEEP!]? Show up, and SHUT ME UP.

“Here I am, YOUR PRESIDENT, calling THE WORLD to the carpet. (Takes a last drag and ashes it) Love me, hate me, prove something to me. Get DROPPED ON YOUR HEAD BY ME. Roll the dice, or SHUT THE F[BLEEEP!] UP, ONCE AND FOR ALL. SHOW ME SOMETHING IN OSLO, NORWAY, BRAWL NIGHT 2. Trust me … (Smiles) I’LL MAKE YOU FAMOUS. It’s what I do.”

(FADEOUT as MAYFIELD sucks his teeth, glaring at the camera.)

 

[Mad Dog]

(FADEIN to a man in a black parka with fur trimmed around the hood covering his head. He is standing in front of an old brick wall that has crumbled over time. The camera pans back to reveal the Suomenlinna fortress in Finland.

The shot cuts to an alternate camera angle zoomed in on the man in the parka. He lifts the hood on his head to reveal his face. It’s Boogie Smallz already in Finland, getting himself adjusted to his surroundings before the biggest match of his NFW career thus far.)

BOOGIE SMALLZ: I love how everyone has such high expectations for themselves. Positive outlooks. Optimistic…glass half-full type of dudes. All the competitors involved believe that they can gut it out, get past the other three opponents, and make it to the title match against Rook Black.

It’s fuckin’ beautiful man.

(Smallz feigns a sniffle and wipes away a nonexistent tear.)

But unfortunately, I have to be the one to snap these fools back into reality!

(Boogie mean mugs the camera and gives a scowl as he continues with his rant.)

Jesse Ramey…we squared off several months back in the Ultratitle tournament…and how did that end up for you? You were so smug and self-assured that you didn’t even bother doin’ ANY promotional appearances for the match. No interviews, no backstage words…nothin’. You thought that little of me that you just mailed it in. You hoped that whatever accolades you achieved in the past would allow you to surpass me and move on to the next round.

But it didn’t, did it?

And now you further disrespect me by only sayin’ a handful of words about how “this time you think the outcome will be different”. Are you bein’ honest with yourself, Jess? Did me dumpin’ you on your head cause you further brain damage than what previously existed? Or are you that full of yourself that, once again, you think you are better than me and all I am to you is an afterthought?

Understand this, Ramey…it makes no difference to me what type of match this is. Two matches…four opponents...it doesn’t matter. Eddie Mayfield can stack the odds against me all he wants. The truth is, my entire career I have defied the odds. No one ever expected me to have success in the singles ranks. No one believed that I would ever amount to anything in this sport.

All of that doubt. All of the skepticism and scrutiny that promoters have put me through. It only fuels the fire. It only feeds the rage churnin’ inside. And at some period in time…it reaches a boilin’ point!

(Smallz grits his teeth and seethes in fury before slightly composing himself.)

All of that anger has to be released…and unfortunately for you, Orange Dragon, Leyenda de Ocho, and later in the evening…Rook Black, I save it for the ring. That’s where I combust…that’s where I unleash hell on everyone that stands in my way! Levelin’ everything in site in order to pave my way to the final objective of the night. (Pauses.) Victory.

(Boogie tilts his neck around before moving on to his next opponent.)

Orange Dragon, you need to learn a few things before you go runnin’ off at the mouth. Primarily, keepin’ that sushi-eater you are yappin’ out of closed and gettin’ your facts straight before you try to spit some Confucius on a brotha’. Comparin’ me and Jesse Ramey to grains of rice? No distinction between us?

What? Are you “HAI” or somethin’?

Do you realize how idiotic that statement makes you appear? You just look at resumes and accomplishments for your preparation? What about somethin’ that actually matters when you step into the ring with somebody…oh…I don’t know, say maybe reviewin’ ring footage…peepin’ out past matches…literally doin’ some research on your opponents besides pullin’ up bios on Google.

Dragon, take a moment to familiarize yourself with the people you will be facin’. Skip the Cliff Notes and look at the big picture. Otherwise you will always be Number Two…and will never graduate to bein’ Number One. But why should I tell you this? Why should I take the time and school you to the facts of the game? If you don’t know how it works by now, there is no chance to turn your pathetic life around.

(Boogie rubs his chin and lets out a deep breath before addressing his third opponent in the Four-Way match to determine Rook Black’s opponent in the main event of the upcoming NFW show in Helsinki.)

Leyenda de Ocho…I’m glad that you have enough sense to give respect where it’s due. But you contradict yourself in your statements and try to flip the script at the end by sayin’ you will be a “giant slayer”. (Shakes his head.) Ocho…don’t flatter yourself by thinkin’ that you will be ready to square off against me. You have no idea about the ruckus I bring when I step into the squared circle.

I can tolerate your love for video games to a certain point. But let me make one thing perfectly clear…THIS ISN’T A GAME! This is damn real and in this life…there are no cheat codes to punch in before battle. There isn’t a Game Genie for you to plug your cartridge into so that you can skate by to the “final boss”. And you can damn well guarantee that you won’t get any extra lives to continue your quest…because in reality, which you obviously refuse to live in…you only get one.

While you are wise enough to recognize I’m a much more superior force in that ring than you are…I’m not gonna sell you short. You’ve come on strong since you hit the scene. And while you have failed to win the big one…you have plenty of time in your young career to make somethin’ happen. But before you make that next step…you need to put away the games and focus on what’s really goin’ on around you. Until you do that…you will never amount to anything in this industry. No one will take you seriously. I know from experience.

(Smallz rubs his hands together, brings them up to his mouth, and blows some warm air into them due to the frigid temperatures. He continues to rub his hands while speaking about his potential fourth opponent for the upcoming show.)

And finally onto the grand prize. The man all of us are fightin’ one another to get the opportunity to face.

Rook Black, you’ve been able to hold onto that title for quite some time now. You’ve set the standard for all other champions in New Frontier to follow. You’ve got the World champion, Impulse, playin’ second fiddle to you on this show. I mean, that’s probably the highest compliment anyone who isn’t the World champion can ever receive. So props to you on that. Job well done.

(Smallz gives a hesitant clap, with an unimpressed look on his face.)

But I ain’t tellin’ you anything you don’t already know, Rook. And that’s probably the last time you will ever get any type of applause from me. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got a giant bulleye on your back and I’m lookin’ to hit it smack dab in the middle and end your Triple Crown championship reign.

You had a good run, you’ve accomplished just about all you can with it. And from what I’ve seen on tape…you’ve become complacent. Perhaps it’s time for you to move up the championship ladder in New Frontier and set your sights on a different title. Maybe prove some of your doubters wrong by facin’ Impulse for the World title and provin’ your supremacy over him as bein’ the best this company has to offer.

Trust me, if I had the opportunity, I would do it myself. But Mayfield would never give me the chance. So I gotta go through the motions. Start off by claimin’ the title you have around your waist, beat everyone that stands in my way, and dominate the competition until NFW management has no choice but to grant me a World title shot.

But first things first. I have to win the four-way match with Ocho, Dragon, and Ramey…then move on to you in the main event.

And I have some added motivation that my opponents don’t. See…their priorities are split right now. On one hand, they can concentrate on this match and the possibility of havin’ the chance to win the Triple Crown title.

Then on the other hand, a few nights after this match, they get the opportunity to win the Grand Prix and an automatic World title shot.

My motivation isn’t torn between the two. I have one thing and ONE THING ONLY to put all of my effort towards. While they diversify their interests…I’m puttin’ all my eggs in one basket….boom or bust. I’m goin’ into this match as if my back is against the wall, that I have no choice but to win…failure is not an option.

I’m not afforded the luxury of fallin’ back on the Grand Prix to save face. This is all I got.

And I hate it for you, because while it may be perceived that the odds are in your favor…because you are facin’ a man that was already in a war against three others earlier in the night, I can rebound from that. It’s not like I gotta beat them all in a row. They’ll flip around…do their cruiserweight thing…and I’ll lay in the cut waitin’ for the right moment to pounce.

I’ve been in this scenario before…multiple matches in one night is nothin’ new to me. Been there, done that, ready for it again. That first match is just a warm-up for what to come later in the night.

I’ll be in Finland trainin’ everyday…all day, gettin’ my mind and body right, preppin’ myself to face you. Rook, enjoy your last few days as champion…because your reign comes to an end in Helsinki.

BELIEVE ‘DAT!

(FADE TO BLACK)

 

[Jesse Ramey]

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Ramey began as he continued work on his makeshift raft. “I don’t ever underestimate my opponents going into a match.”

“I’ve been on the flip side of the coin on more than one occasion,” Ramey paused, “just like Boogie Smallz has already pointed out. He’s beaten me before, but a lot of people have beaten me.”

“It comes with the territory.” Ramey pondered, “I started wrestling in nineteen ninety one. That means I’ve been stepping in that ring night in and night out for over twenty-two years.”

“Have I been doing this longer than anyone else?” Ramey paused, “No, most likely not. Do I have the laundry list of accomplishments that other people have to boast about?” He paused once more, “No, I don’t. I’ve held the main title for a company twice in my career. Statistically meaning I get to the top of a company once every eleven years; those obviously aren’t the best odds in the world.”

“Has that ever fazed me though?” Ramey though, “No, because that’s what drives me; I know I’m better than what I’ve been given. When I step foot inside of that ring I work my rear end off from the time the bell sounds to start the match to the time it sounds to end the match. I put on a show every time I step into that ring.”

“If there is an arena to set up a wrestling ring, anywhere in the world, I’ve wrestled in it.” Ramey smiled, “I didn’t just settle in one area and call it home, I’ve been travelling the world since I was sixteen years old. I’ve wrestled in all of the big wrestling countries and I’ve wrestled in places where they didn’t even want us.”

“I’ve adapted to situations,” Ramey contemplated, “I’ve escaped death on more than one occasion.”

“Leyenda de Ocho,” Ramey paused, “if you think for one second that because I’m still here in Laos that I’m stubborn; you are correct. I’m one of the most stubborn men you’ll ever meet. It’s actually almost a superpower I would think, you can say I was beaten by a radioactive mule if you’d like.”

“What you need to understand though is that being stubborn isn’t a bad thing; being this way makes me persistent.” Ramey clinched his fist, “I’m going into this fatal four way with perseverance on my side, and I’m not going to take anything away from you de Ocho. I expect you to come at me with all you have, but you’re going to fall short no matter how you try to map out this video game sequence.”

“In the end, there is no combination of buttons, shortcuts, or cheat codes that is going to be able to help you defeat me.” Ramey smiled, “You want to call Rook Black the Final Boss, then I guess that makes me a sub-boss. You ever played Phantasy Star II de Ocho? Remember the three Army Eyes? That’s me, you can’t beat me, it’s impossible.”

“Orange Dragon II,” Ramey smiled, “I’ve already spoken for you before. I have nothing further to add.”

“Rook Black,” Ramey nodded, “when this all boils to a head, everything comes full circle back to you. That’s the way it should be though. You’re what we’re all fighting for in this match, a bunch of fresh faces fighting each other to claim the ultimate prize of having the chance to take the Triple Crown Championship from around your waist.”

“You’ve held that title a long time,” Ramey continued, “which means it’s not going to be easy unseating you of it. It’s not impossible though, anyone can lose on any given night Rook. Maybe, just maybe, one of us will be the man to relive you of your duties as champion here in NFW.”

“Maybe it’s time for someone new to be thrust into the spotlight by holding that title.” Ramey smiled, “Would it be as special if anyone else defeated you for that belt? Would there be an impact if you were beaten by the likes of Nova, Jack Harmen, Legion, Dorchester Stratton, or Impulse for that belt?”

“It just wouldn’t be as monumental; I can see the headlines now.” Ramey outstretched his arms, “Rook Black loses championship to relative unknown in the NFW circuit. That’s the type of thing that will get the people coming to the shows, that’s the kind of thing that could take a man from the roach motel into the penthouse. It’s the type of rub that some of us could really benefit from.”

“I want that to be me,” Ramey smiled, “more than anyone else. I want that person to be me; I want to strip you of the one thing that you hold dearest to you Rook. I want to take your livelihood from you, and I want to carry it around and remind everyone that I was the man who defeated the mighty Rook Black.”

“Come Brawlhalla,” Ramey paused, “I’m walking out with two title belts around my waist; one that NFW doesn’t even recognize and the other one of its most prestigious. Bank on it.”

Fade to black.

 

[JBorchard]

FADEIN: A potted plant. Yep. And from the looks of it nothing more than a weed in a clay pot. Not pleasant on the eyes. Orange Dragon II is holding it up in front of his face, lowering it enough to see a portion of his upper mask.

Dragon II: --Even a weed can dream of being something of worth, Mr. Smallz. You requested of me to look beyond your resume, my amusingly helpful adversary. Hai, I have. -- You have been a busy competitor touring aimlessly whichever the wind carries you. Why not put down roots, or is it simply no one wants just another grain of rice? Not even grain of rice in my eyes, HAI,--a potted weed domesticated to attract household insect. So sit in corner, and want for blossom as you are fed on. Hai.--

CUTTO: Shears clipping the weed as it tumbles to the floor exposing the complete holeless mask of ODII. Dropping the pot unceremoniously to the floor seconds later, pausing briefly.

Dragon II: -- AUGGH-HAHAHA.--Weed all gone. Your roots no good, Mister Smallz-san. As for the repeated assault on being the second Orange Dragon by a slew of verbal assailants, Hai, how common to assume a sequel to be lack. Hai, there are many reaching blindly with no merit of grasping just who I am. I am so saddened by brittle, broken logic that being a second coming is demeaning. --Poor New Frontiersmen, can not drink from the cup of knowledge so they grasp at straws. Hai, thirsty driveling dogs, the lot. Once I, the greatest of Flightmasters, take flight there will be open palms cupped at the throne I assume. For it is a certainty that I will be the next conqueror of this land of mutiny and colloquialisms. Hai.-- for far too long, Rook Black has championed himself magnificently. Quite impressive. [a small round of applause.]

Mister Black is intelligent and self-admittedly a master of sleight of hand. Yet, he too, will cup his hands at the altar of my eternal flame. My flame will burn far more blazingly than the affable infernos he most assuredly believes he has survived and endured. Do you know the foolish game of Chess, Mister Black? How each game mandates known pieces from the beginning?--Hai, you will know of what I do bring to the table in due time. A whole new piece, unknown. I am your IBM Deep Blue, Mr. Black-san. -- In orange, of course. [a smirk perhaps under a holeless mask?]

CUTTO: The pot broken at his feet. He lightly uses the tip of his boot to shuffle a clump of dirt.

Dragon II: -- The foundation of New Frontier.-- shifts now. Hai. I will be the new beginning.

FADEOUT: A more than confidant Orange Dragon II as we zoom back, his chin up and arms out-stretched. A rough road ahead as he nods affirmatively to the heavens. Over-confidant, definitely.

 

[User Poets]

"Are you surprised, Eddie?"

"You put out the word that you'd take on anyone in the world, within or without the New Frontier, and the world runs and hides."

"This is less of a surprise than Joe getting extra credit for his STD tests."

(FADEIN... The Cave, at Hartwell Areena in Helsinki, Finland. There's a few people here and there, but the doors aren't open yet so everyone here is working.

Including me.

This is a really nice place. Everything here is well maintained and well kept.

Including the championship belt over my shoulder.

No wrestling gear yet - we have a few hours.)

"It's the latest fad in this sport, Eddie, for one company or another to put out an open challenge to the world. Heck, there's an entire company based around this concept with a regular show on ESEN."

Intergalactic, Planetary.

"The Empire opens up their King of the Cage field to anyone who wants to show up and prove their mettle."

"I even hear Deficient Wrestling is planning something."

How original.

"If only the New Frontier hadn't done it all first, some of it might be groundbreaking."

"Eddie, do you really expect anyone not on the roster to take up your challenge? Do you really think anyone who would be inclined to want to get in the ring with you is ever going to be part of the New Frontier again, even just for a night?"

"There's a reason why they're former roster members, and nobody leaves a company due to overwhelming success."

"I'm sure the excuses will be entertaining to listen to and far too numerous to count."

I don't wanna go to Scandinavia.

The deck will be stacked if the President is wrestling.

I have nothing to prove.

(And I laughed.)

"Anyone who truly had nothing to prove wouldn't be talking about it in hushed tones when they think nobody's listening, and anyone who was truly worth the time would be able to get their 'point' across no matter how stacked the deck would be."

...

"And anyone who would really think you'd give anything but a completely equitable match, Eddie, really needs to check out our match against the Windham Clan. If there was ever a moment for you to stack the deck, it's already passed."

"So I say keep challenging the world, Eddie. Let 'em know what they already do: that the New Frontier is the pinnacle of this sport and we fear nobody."

"And when none of the wrestlers who have claimed to have beef with you or with this company show up to prove their mettle, I say go out to the ring anyways."

"If nothing else, your World Champion will give your paying customers a show they'll never forget."

FADE

 

[Rook Black]

ROOK: "If it's good enough for the NFW World Champion ..."

(FADE IN: ROOK BLACK exiting a hotel ballroom, wearing a complete three piece charcoal gray suit with a black and silver bolo, and black leather cowboy boots on his feet. The Triple Crown Championship is over his shoulder.)

ROOK: "Then I'm in. All my contenders are working twice that night, I don't imagine any reason why I shouldn't let Impulse have all the fun."

(ROOK pauses for just a moment of reflection.)

ROOK: "Though I could perhaps think of a guy who might want it more."

ROOK: "Hate to be the kind of person who pokes his nose into others vendettas ... but."

ROOK: "Nova. Step up. This is the guy who had your dome caved in calling for an open challenge for that ring. I'm actually rather shocked you haven't come forward already, but maybe it's cupcake related."

ROOK: "I think that you genuinely need to call dibs here over the World Champion and the Triple Crown Champion."

ROOK: "Don't you?"

(ROOK smiles.)

ROOK: "I have to remark upon my contenders though. We've had a Kasparov reference and now a Deep Blue one. Much appreciated guys."

ROOK: "Bug Boogie Smallz remarked that I seem complacent. I am positive that's what everybody is hoping for."

ROOK (gesturing to the Triple Crown Championship over his shoulder): "But you know what makes these things precious?"

ROOK: "The fight for them. FOUR guys lined up, determined to be the one to knock me down and take my gold? I am completely energized. Determined, motivated opponents is an injection of rocket fuel right into my brain. Complacency just isn't possible for me under these circumstances."

ROOK: "Jesse had also suggested that perhaps it's simply time for someone else to take up the mantle, what with my statistically insignificant streak of successful defenses being in play for so very long."

ROOK (smiling): "I am sure that the length of my reign has been a source of aggravation to many. And it may be true that the office, even the fans, would like to see someone else standing over me with this belt raised."

ROOK: "But regardless of what anybody might want, matches are decided by the folks who are fighting in them. Whether it pleases or enrages the crowd, I will be one with my hand raised, I will be the one holding up the Triple Crown Championship, I will be the one who is victorious, and I will do this by any means necessary."

ROOK: "Have you considered what that might actually mean? Whether you have or not, I look forward to showing you."

 

[jediPREZ]

DANGERFUTUREMEN

(FADEIN: Early morning, an overhead and expansive shot of the sunlight shining brightly off the white, cold ice plains surrounding a small town. CUTTO: Main Street...RUSSIAN letters on a road sign that creaks loudly from the gusting winds. Various store windows are boarded up, the graveled road chunked out as some dilapidated houses have literally broken apart, fallen to the earth and revealed their hallowed interior designs to the harsh winter. CUTTO: A lone man walks the road wearing a thick, bloodstained bear fur coat, thick black cargo pants and red boots... the ground begins to shake...)

"DANGER... DANGER..."

(CUTTO: AKITA his head covered with an oversized Mongolian shepherd's hat, his body swathed in bloody, brown bear. He's muttering those words over and over to himself until there's a sudden WHITE FLASH! FOLLOWED BY A SONIC BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!)

AKITA: "DAAAAAAANGERMAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

(CUTTO: AKITA running down the lone road following the streaking FIREBALL looking like it's trying to outsmoke Eddie Mayfield after a breakfast of pancakes and Celeste DeVille. AKITA's screaming like a banshee as windows explode out of an abandoned laundromat, a brown-stained washer flying out through the window of a pickup truck on concrete wheels. QUICK CUTTO: A billowing, thick steam rising from a few meters away... voices can be heard, which causes AKITA to slow down in slight trepidation.)

"YO - when you told me we were gonna be drivin' like it's 2095, I didn't realize you'd be takin' it out to 2112, bros! HOLY COCKBALLS and SOFT POOPY SH(BLEEP!)T."

(The steam slowly settles, while the sounds of coughing can be heard...)

"Honestly, this smells like Pan-Asian Borscht lubed up something fierce..."

(CLOSEUP: Two men climbing out of a swampy, muddy hole that's taken out about a quarter-mile of the road behind them... in front of them is a man bent over, hocking out saliva to the ground like he's not trying to throw up. That man is DOUG MAYFIELD, manager of the two stoically climbing individuals known as THE SHADOWRUNNERS. All three of these men are dressed similarly -- no shirts, thick black vinyl pants with various access cards hanging from their belts, black leather jackets covered with mirrored mini-discs and black boots lit up like Tron tracksuits. DESTINY and FORTUNE both have reverse mohawks, conal spikes gelled on each side, FORTUNE accenting his with a flowing mullet. DOUG's curly afro mullet blows in the wind, lightning bolts shaved into the side of his head. As DOUG stands up and high-fives FORTUNE with a "Woo!" he sips on a DIE HARD 20 promotional 7-11 BIG GULP bearing Bruce Willis with a metal exo-skeleton and Bladerunner legs, trying to dodge a giant DINOBOT. DOUG gives a good scratch to his Jimmy Garvin chest fur, while TOD DESTINY and CHAD FORTUNE adjust their shimmering purple-tinted wraparound shades and check their digital watches.)

DOUG: (still sniffing something putrid) "This isn't Russia, Destiny... tell me this isn't Russia..."

DESTINY: (looking at his watch) "WELCOME TO RUSSIA, CHANCELLOR MAYFIELD. We have successfully ridden a meteorite back to the year TWENTY THIRTEEN to protect the PRESIDENT."

"dangerman... dangerman..."

(CUTTO: DOUG MAYFIELD turning his head and realizing that AKITA is present. DOUG's eyes widen quickly...)

DOUG: (whispering) "There he is! Fortune, you FOOL! You almost landed us on mother(BLEEP!)ing Akita!"

FORTUNE: (shouting! Doug tries to quiet him...) "AKITA HOSHI IS THE HARBINGER OF DOOM!"

AKITA: "DANGERMAN!"

FORTUNE: (muffled...) "AKITA H---LL INCUR THE CYCLO--- LLION!"

(DOUG pushes FORTUNE and gives him the HUSH sign as AKITA starts stomping in place and shouting "DANGERMAN! DANGERMAN!")

DOUG: (poking FORTUNE in the chest) "As long as he doesn't join the BLACK MARKET, Eddie's assassination WON'T happen... so just chill, compadre. (DOUG gives a slight slap to FORTUNE's cheek and turns to AKITA with a smile...) AKITA, BRO! You like SUSHI? Wanna get some SHRIMPY TEMPURA and sing MANEATER?"

(AKITA just growls, pulling out his broken kendo sticks from Laos from underneath his bear coat. THE SHADOWRUNNERS stand tall immediately in response as DOUG holds out one hand to each side...)

DOUG: "Alright, I did not just travel back fifty years to get in a street-fight near some town in Russia that smells like New Manhooklyn in the SUMMER, you got me? I say we all find some mail-order brides, get some jugs of vodka and see which one of those lovely girls wants to take my tip first."

(AKITA lets out a primal scream and charges, the SHADOWRUNNERS returning in favor... DOUG shakes his head, purses his lips and rubs his splotchy facial scruff.)

DOUG: "(BLEEP!)ing open challenges, Eddie ALWAYS had to fork something."

(FADETOBLACK - DOUG jumping into the scuffle, pulling out a mini-flashlight...)

"I'LL MINDWIPE YOU B(BLEEP!)CH!"

 

[Colin]

Atken: Y'know, ye ken, to indulge in my native dialogue for a brief moment, I've found the idea that THE BELTS, THEY DON'T COME OFF to be quite a curious one.

Phil Atken sits back and reclines with an oddly smug grin smacked right across his face within his Oslo hotel confines. He is enjoying himself at one of them cheap desks you can find in any good medium range hotel.

Atken: It's the kind of thing that sounds great, sounds wonderful as a concept, the champions who care so much about what they have achieved, what they have done that they just can't picture a situation where they would remove the belts from their waists. Now, let us put to one side the legality issues of having title belts around your waist in a disqualification based affair and let us focus on the idea, THE CONCEPT if you will itself. It makes for a great t-shirt, it makes for a great poster, I'm sure I've lost count of the number of signs I've seen fans hold up that just seem to rub in that idea. It has spawned an internet meme that my twitter account has established as a constant and sad reminder that the belts are around the Superfly Express' waist. NFW is sure as hell happy to slap that slogan anywhere it deems fit, I swear that includes Strap Ons.

Yet, my memory may be faulty, after all I was recovering from a horrific watermelon STROKE dunk booth incident but I distinctly remember that two men... one shorter and Scottish, one larger, more monster like and from dearest Philly, I remember these two guys... making the belts come off. Oh, silly me, that was me and Teddy Alexander. We made those belts come off, we made the Superfly Express into frauds when we got those EE EM TEES within our grasps. I quite enjoyed that feeling, I enjoyed that sensation that just touch the belts gave me. Leaves a man wanting more, y'know, it's like an amuse bouche. It amused me senses and now I know what I want in NFW, what the ultimate goal is, what direction that this once lost soul should head in... Teddy Alexander and Phil Atken, Everett Memorial Title holders.

Now, I'm sure some people want to consider us the villains for doing such a thing, for ruining the good spirited hijinks of the Superfly tandem. They just wanted to have a good time, partying on down and boogieooogiewoogie. They just wanting to have those kickin' rad experience you read so much about in the 1991 Saved by the Bell annual. Harmen and Nova, they just want to just have themselves a good time, they just want to have a ball, that's what they want to do. Why would mean ole Phil Atken and grumpy Teddy ruin that joy, ruin all that fun... WHY WOULD THEY MAKE THE BELTS COME OFF?

Phil grabs a glass of wine off the desk and begins to sip it slowly, the smile from his face never fading as he does so.

Atken: You know, for years... since AUGHT SEVEN, I've worked for NFW, I've performed in front of the NFWites, sure it may have been an on and off relationship but give or take six years, I've been here, I've been the whipping boy, I've been the joke. In those six years, I've been humiliated, I've been crippled, I've been destroyed. Jack Bryant, he put me on the shelf for god knows how long after he mangled my belt just to prove a point to someone else. TO SOMEONE ELSE. That's is how little I used to matter. The only people who had taken the slightest bit of notice or care on poor ole Phil were my family, a midget with a Napoleon complex and a nimpho norsk. Hardly esteemed company. People like Jack Bryant, Teresa Q, Vic Tarano, Sean Stevens, they all crushed me, they all made sure to put those exclamations on my humiliation. Hell, I ONCE LOST OUT ON A MATCH INVOLVING A GOD DAMN KOOPA. A KOOPA. I continued to push through though, kept on thinking that eventually, eventually I'd come out from that tunnel of humiliation and be respected as part of the NFW universe. It was just a matter of time before I become that force in NFW, an impact player, a man of merit.

It never happened. IT. NEVER. HAPPENED. It still doesn't. I'm the guy you put in the dunk booth, I'm the guy you shove out front to point and laugh at. That's supposed to be my role, that's the part I'm supposed to play. Yet, an error happened. A mistake, in what should've been another one of the periodic humiliation of Phil Atken... NFW, Eddie, Carlton, whoever the hell else sits in those smoke filled rooms these days, they paired me up with Teddy Alexander. They paired me up with Teddy Alexander on the night of my one and only shot at the then World Heavyweight Champion Castor Strife in the hopes that Teddy would rip my head off clean before I even got to the ring. In the hopes that by the time I got to Castor, I'd be a human wreckage zone, once again torn apart, once again humiliated and the biggest moment of my career would promptly be rendered meaningless.

Phil leans back in his chair, looks up at the ceiling and smiles before snapping his head back at the camera.

Atken: And yet, the plan, IT FAILED. It failed spectacularly. A bond actually formed, a brotherhood between me and Teddy, it began its foundation on a night where most expected another atypical night of Atken destruction. Teddy, he's a loyal guy, he's a protective guy and when the Superfly Express saw me as the easy mark for their particular and wacky brand of hijinks and tomfoolery in Australia... Teddy wasn't happy. I wasn't happy. We decided we wanted to do something about that. We decided that we wanted to end the bullying, the hazing that runs rampant from the life blood of NFW. We were two men ready to stand up for ourselves... well Teddy always stood up for himself, even since he entered the door and shoved his boot through Jack Bryant's skull. But Teddy made me stand up for myself, Teddy's loyalty made me realise I didn't have to play the gopher anymore. That I had a partner that I could work with to drive us towards tag team gold.

So we took the belts off.


Phil takes another sip from the wine glass.

Atken: Let me repeat that. We. Took. The. Belts. Off. Me and Teddy, Atken and Alexander, we stood in Australia and made those belts come off. Why? Because we'd had enough, we'd had our shot at the Superfly Express and they came out of it alive ONLY because Calvin Carlton's fondness for sporting goods got them there, they got there by cheating, by using underhanded, devious tactics that no true champions would endorse. We knew then that we wanted those belts, we wanted the EEE EM TEES. We just had to wait, we just had to spot our opportunity to get there. Nov, Harmen, they just couldn't resist though, they just had to gun for lil ole me in the outback, after all, what harm is it to humiliate Phil Atken once more. I hope the fact those belts around wrapped around you with a lock and key have made you realise exactly WHAT harm that does. What harm we can do to you Superfly. What harm we WILL do to you in Oslo.

We made they come off once, in Oslo that becomes a more... permanent arrangement. The hijinks, the HIlarity, the humiliation on poor souls, it ends when Teddy Alexander rips off your heads and I, Phil Atken, rip off your titles. Carlton won't save you this time guys, we're taking what is ours. What we deserve.

I hear that bodies will hit the floor. I think we should let 'em.

 

[Nova]

After BRAWL 63: Laos

(CUTIN: A loading dock in the underbelly of the New Laos National Stadium, swarming with workers and media. Blinking red and white lights bathe the area as an ambulance backs up to the double doors that lead inside the arena. Without warning the doors burst open and medical personnel hustle through, escorting a stretcher carrying EMT Champion and one half of 2012 NFW Tag Team of the Year SUPERFLY EXPRESS, JACK HARMEN. Out in front of the stretcher, manager CALVIN CARLTON is directing traffic.)

CALVIN CARLTON: “EASY THERE! I don’t know how your health care system stacks up against the U-S of A…”

(A well-dressed woman whispers into his ear.)

CALVIN CARLTON: “…and I’m being told that as of last night, Laos and Malta officially leap-frogged our native Obamacare…but point being, that’s a CHAMPION you have on that rack and you better take good care of him!”

JACK HARMEN : “Cal! CAL!”

(CAL runs to the stretcher, leaning down over JACK in dramatic fashion.)

CALVIN CARLTON: “What is it, Champ? Talk to me!”

JACK HARMEN: (Wincing, gulping) “You still have my list of superstar demands, right?”

CALVIN CARLTON: “A mop bucket full of sour gummy worms – NOT the regular kind – and Season Three of America’s Best Dance Crew piped into your hospital room. I’m on it!”

JACK HARMEN: “It’s gotta be Season Three, Cal. You know how much I love those Beat Freaks.”

(HARMEN’s partner-in-crime and co-champion, NOVA, pushes his way through the sea of humanity and approaches the stretcher.)

NOVA: “It’s gonna be okay, Jay. My guy tells me that Laotian health care statutes authorize nurses to give happy endings so long as you fill out the appropriate forms and waivers.”

CALVIN CARLTON: “Your ‘guy’?”

NOVA: “Yeah, my guy. My guy for interpreting Laotian statutes. You don’t have a guy?”

(The medical staff begin loading HARMEN into the back of the ambulance. NOVA leans over to a young Frontier crewman wrapping cable.)

NOVA: (Grinning wryly) “At least it’s not a rickshaw, right? Amirite?”

(The man stares blankly.)

CREWMAN: “Rickshaws were first developed in Japan, and later utilized in China and elsewhere around the world, but to my knowledge are not associated with Laotian culture.”

NOVA: “I’m not racist.”

(CAL yells out an unintelligible string of presumably Laotian words, and the workers all pause and stare at him. He yells something else, and they all nod before continuing to load HARMEN into the ambulance.)

NOVA: “Cal! I didn’t know you speak Laotian!”

CALVIN CARLTON: “Rosetta Stone, baby. THAT’S why you pay me the big bucks!”

NOVA: “We pay you in Subway Rewards points and scratch-off tickets. What did you tell them?”

CALVIN CARLTON: “To take Jack to the finest hospital in Vientiane.”

(The ambulance pulls away. The same woman from before leans over to CAL.)

WOMAN: “You tell them take Harmen meat-packing district.”

NOVA & CALVIN CARLTON (together): “TAXI!!!”

(SFX: Canned laughter. FADETOBLACK.)

 

[fugginVOSS]

Re: After BRAWL 63: Laos

[FADE IN: on a well balanced room that’s matched with its Feng Shui as it is with its taste. In the corner of the tastefully decorated room plays a record player with “Send in the Clowns” playing at a low volume. Standing before a bookcase we see two men who are all so familiar with the New Frontier. They ARE the number one contenders to the Everette Memorial Titles, don’t you know? PHIL ATKEN stands proudly, wearing a St. Andrews cross navy blue robe and a bandage around his head. He was clobbered by his own partner in Laos, afterall. Beside him, wearing a SUPERFLY EXPRESS “Never Come Off” t-shirt with screen printed championship belts around the waist, is TEDDY ALEXANDER, who looks remarkably uncomfortable standing in the room.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“I don’t feel so comfortable in surroundin’s like dis. I’m kinda reminded of da old sayin’ a bull in a china shop. But I’m ain't HERE for comfort.

“I guess me kickin’ dat stupid grin off of Nova’s face gave dat away already.

“I’m here to do what I do best. Break necks. Forge a legacy.

“When Phil and me were shoved together all dem weeks back I have to admit... at first I was thinkin’... how is dis runt old has-been gonna get me anywhere? What does HE have dat I need?”

[Snicker.]

[ATKEN shoots an uncomfortable look at TEDDY but decides best to let it slide.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“Truth be told. I figured da answer was nothin’. But each and every time we went out dere we won. Again and again. And if it weren’t for Jack and Nova’s little puppet with dat damn tennis racquet we’d be standin’ here as da Frontier’s tag champions.

“And dat’s fact.

“Fact number two. When you stare across da ring at BRAWLHALLA you’ll wish da Norse gods were on your side... rather dan standin’ across from you.

“It’s okay if you mistake me for Thor. When I hit you it DOES feel like thunder. And like lightnin’, I never strike da same place twice. Coz I don’t have to – you’re already DEAD. And dere’s GONNA BE a storm. And when it's ALL said and done you’ll think you’re a straw house in New Orleans, little pigs.

“And I’m da big, bad wolf. I’m gonna huff and puff and blow you da fuck out’f dat ring. I’m gonna bring your whole house of cards crashin’ down 'round ya feet.

“I stand here and stare back at you and dere’s only one word dat comes immediately to my mind, Superfly: Pathetic.

“I laid down my challenge and Harmen ran. Nova couldn’t even stand up for his damsel in distress and come to da party. Where da Hell were you Nova when shit was turnin’ from bad to worse for Jack? Where were you when I tossed his scrawny ass off da top of dat bamboo cages turnin' da High Flyer into a pile of meat ringside?

“I’ll tell you where you were. You were curled up in da corner of ya lockeroom pissin’ your pants from fear dat if you raised your hand against me you’d get EXACTLY da same treatment I gave your partner.

“Like I said once before; divide and conquer.

“And den your silence went answered when I came down to dat ring in support of MY tag team partner. Sure, a misplaced chair gave Phil a lump on his head bigger dan your egos combined but I was STILL – DERE – FOR HIM!

“Where was Jack Harmen when you were laid out on dat apron gettin’ an Angerbash dat scrambled da only remainin' brain cells left in your thick skull?

“Oh, my bad. I forgot. He was in da finest medical facility Laos had to offer.”

[Scoff.]

[ATKEN joins in with a chuckle for fear of not looking like he’s paying attention.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
“Lucky for you two, Norway has some of da finest medical institutions on da planet. Maybe they’ll be able to use you two test dummies as guinea pigs to pioneer some sort’f neck brace I ain’t never seen before dat allows you to ALMOST function like a normal human bein’.

“Almost.

“Coz let’s face it. You’re not normal human bein's. You’re less than normal. Sub par at most. And dat’s all you’ll ever be. You can’t PROVE yourselves as pure tag team champions coz you’re too busy lettin’ other people have deir hand in your fate.

“You can’t fight us in a fair fight coz let’s face it... it’s NOT fair.

“Standin’ one side of you is Phil Atken, da ONLY man to beat Dan Ryan AND Nova. ONLY – MAN! Dere’s nobody else on dis roster... scratch dat, nobody else in dis INDUSTRY dat can say dat. Standin’ on da other side is da Spinal Smash Monger, ready to put you sons of bitches in wheel chairs for da rest of your unnatural lives.

“Send in da clowns. SEND – ‘EM!”

[Atken looks over to Teddy, almost as if looking for reassurance he'd finished before speaking up himself.]

PHIL ATKEN:
"See, that's the thing. THAT'S THE THING. For months on end, this has been one big jape to you two, a little joke that you can amuse each other with. You sit there, you get stoned out of your gourds and then you giggle "never come off" to each other. I'm sure one of you this titters and says "haha, dude, you said come" before you go out for a KFC Double Down. Certainly that's how I imagine the life of the Superfly Express to be and who could blame me. You've spent your entire reign as championships cheating your way to victory and making those pristeen and esteemed titles into one big joke between yourselves. Teddy is right to call you clowns, that's all you are, you're a sideshow act until the true champions take your throne and guys, let me assure you, I've got my damn crown and sceptre ready for Oslo.

"It's funny that this, the moment where me and Teddy, we become the champions that we should have been months ago, it all happens in Norway. There's been enough jokes made at my dear mother's expense over the history of NFW but guys, I got the Norse blood running through my veins. I'm a god damn warrior ready for battle, especially with this man... THIS BEHEMOTH OF A MAN ready to rip you both to shreds. You see, me and Teddy, we're warriors, Teddy slammed a chair straight into my head in Laos and I'm still ready to stand by his side, still ready to battle together because miscommunication, accidents, they are a fact of life but warriors, CHAMPIONS, they battle through it all. They stay side by side no matter what happens and that's exactly what we're ready to do. Remember, you CLUNG to those titles with the help of that miscreant Calvin Carlton before, you can't pull that same stunt again. It's time to end the joke, it's time to put those belts, those belts that are gonna come off, it's time to put them around a team of true champions, a team that represents everything a tag team should."

[TEDDY couldn't contain the grin, listening to his veteran partner lay down the gauntlet. He rolled his shoulders in their sockets and clapped a massive hand onto the shoulder of ATKEN who near jumped out of his bones.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
"Never come off. Da joke dat echoes throughout da arenas. Get's spread over t-shirts made by Pakinstani children for a dollar. Dat's sold in truck loads all over da world. Australia. Laos. Amsterdam. Norway. But da thing about Norway's sales is dey truly ARE collector's items.

"Along with the emptied skulls of the catch phrase owners."

[TEDDY shows off the t-shirt he's wearing.]

TEDDY ALEXANDER:
"Never come off. Think about dat, clowns. Think about da irony of you being walking punchlines and us bein' da tough room. Da one you get no laughs from. Da one dat bays for your blood. Da crowd dat rises against you.

"Because in Norway, we make take back what's ours.

"In Norway... dey - come - OFF!"

[TEDDY points down to the screen printed Championship belt on the Superfly Express t-shirt he wars. ATKEN smiles sadistically and folds his arms across his chest. TEDDY is about to speak when ATKEN puts his hand up to halt him.]

PHIL ATKEN:
"Allow me, please, Teddy."

[PHIL puts a fist to his mouth and coughs into it, clearing his throat.]

PHIL ATKEN:
"Let the bodies hit the floor."

[On the final words TEDDY roars, rips the shirt from his back and tosses it at the camera, charges forward and delivers an Angerbash kick straight into the camera's lens. The last thing that can be seen is the writing scrawled on the sole of TEDDY's boot in Sharpie.]

[What does it say? "Never comes off".]

[CUT to STATIC!]