JABolich
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For the EPW World Tag-Team Championship
Calling (C) vs. Blitz
- Thread starter JABolich
- Start date
EpyonMarx
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[FADE IN. Leonard Johnson, manger of Blitz, is sitting watching his team in a charity event, taking on two local teams at once in a four on two match. The camera pans round to watch the action, seeing Max slamming an opponent down with authority, before tagging in Jecht. Jecht charges in, clothes lining the smaller man, carrying on to the ropes and hitting a MASSIVE asai moonsault. He goes for the cover, only for the other three men to rush in to break the pin. Max comes in, flooring one man with a boot, another with a hard forearm, and the third with a back body drop over the top rope. Meanwhile, Jecht roughly throws two men over the rope, before hitting the legal man with a hard right hand, lifting him in an electric chair position as Max scales the ropes. One Blitzkrieg later and Blitz emerge victorious. FADE OUT]
[FADE IN AGAIN, this time in the locker room at the event. Leonard is talking with the promoter, a portly man in his mid thirties]
Man: Thanks again Leonard. I know it was short notice, but the fans really appreciated it.
LJ: Don’t worry about it. It was good to let Max and Jecht blow off some steam.
Man: Well, I best go see how badly your guys beat those four. Paul, the one who got pinned, looked like he’d gone through hell tonight. Thanks again.
LJ: Any time.
[The promoter leaves the locker room. Leonard sits alone]
LJ: Well, that was a nice break. A short tour to get the boys back into the swing of things. It’s good to do these smaller shows sometimes, to keep them in match shape. Something I admit I failed to do before the pay-per-view.
But let me not take anything away from the Crimson Calling. They did exactly what they said they were going to do. They won the match and the titles, and proved themselves the best team on the night. And it isn’t often I give such high praise, but it does need to be given. Erik, Ivan, Nathan. You three deserve those titles.
[Leonard gives some polite applause, before removing his jacket, laying it down on the bench next to him]
LJ: Now, it seems we must cross paths again. It seems again time for myself to lead my charges against Nathan’s forces, and try to guide them some way towards erasing the two defeats we have suffered at their hands. It is an unenviable position, and one I’m not too familiar with. Because what you saw earlier is what for years was the norm with Blitz. Teams would come along, be destroyed, and Blitz would move on. That seems the biggest leap from the Indies to the nationals. I was unprepared. I’ll admit it. Maybe Max and Jecht aren’t quite the PERFECT combination of speed and power they appeared at one point.
But then again, perfection would be a disappointing situation to be in, would it not?
Confused? Let me put it another way, fans of Empire Pro Wrestling. Max and Jecht used to steamroll over EVERYBODY they faced. NO-ONE stood as their equals. And when they made they debut in MCW against Rock and Mambo, they AGAIN dominated. I guess we rested on our laurels. We thought we were perfect, and got bored. We had a match scheduled with the Monsta Boyz which never took place. We worked hard for that one, but MCW closed. A few weeks later, we headed for Aggression with the same mindset we always had; to DOMINATE our opponents and leave them broken in the middle of the ring. THAT was the norm for us. But, we met a team who had the same idea as us, and had faced stiffer competition than us. They KNEW what to expect. We only THOUGHT we knew. THAT is what perfection, or the impression of being perfect, can do. It clouded us to reality.
After our loss, we thought we had them sussed. And at Black Dawn, they again dispatched us in short order. Our training had been flawed, and our efforts thwarted again. To say I look forward to this match is as unrealistic as you can get. I don’t look forward to this match.
But Max and Jecht do.
[Max enters from out of shot, speaking quietly in German to Leonard. The microphones cannot pick anything up, but Leonard nods, replying in German under his breath. Max stands to one side, sideways to the camera]
Max: Herr Dalkichev, I must say that I look forward to facing you again. Never before have I seen such power from one man. Mann kann das du zwei verschiedenen Gorillas sind sagen. Oder, das maybe you are stronger than that. Ich weiss es nicht. Aber, I can say that a confrontation with you, a challenge against you, macht viel spass fur mich. I am tired of facing and defeating these nobodies and has-beens. Dalkichev, you I await with expectation.
Und Herr Black, let us not forget you. Du sind sehr schnell. In the ring, du sind der schnellster Man. You also, I look forward to facing. Our past encounters gave me new respect for the smaller men. Du kannst verstanden, that in all my years, since I have dominated opponents of your size more times than I can count, that initially I made the mistake of thinking you would be easy to defeat. I now know better than that, and ich weiss that you will be every bit as dangerous as Ivan. Schones Gluck, Black und Dalkichev.
[Max turns to the camera, a smile on his face, his eyes burning with expectation]
LJ: By the way, Max, where is Jecht?
Max: Er ist in das Wagen.
LJ: Was macht er?
Max: Er liest.
LJ: Ja? OK. Sagst du das ich will er sagen heute nacht.
[Max nods, understanding Leonard even through his poor grammar in German. He turns to the camera, smiling again, nodding before turning and heading out the door]
LJ: That was a surprise. It seems that Max is looking forward to having a good match against the Calling this time. Jecht, I know, will be fired up.
Now, let me close with a few words for Nathan.
Congratulations. You manage the best team of the moment. Hang on to that moment, because we intend to be there every step of the way, challenging your team until we hold those straps ourselves, however long that takes. I’m in this for the long haul. This is a new beginning for Blitz. No longer THE GREATEST combination of strength and speed in the WORLD, but a team that’s striving towards that goal harder than any other. Our time will come. Hopefully soon.
[Leonard picks up his jacket, draping it over his left arm. Suddenly, his eyes seem focused and determined, as he stares right through the camera]
LJ: Nathan, those two men you have, they may hold the titles now. And I may not be as confident as I once was in Max and Jecht, but I know I don’t need to be. They are going to do EVERYTHING they can, and there is nothing you can do to stop them trying their damndest. You can win this match, or the next, or the next, but sooner or later, you’ll see what it means to be BLITZED.
[Leonard walks out of shot. As the door slams shut, FADE OUT]
[FADE IN AGAIN, this time in the locker room at the event. Leonard is talking with the promoter, a portly man in his mid thirties]
Man: Thanks again Leonard. I know it was short notice, but the fans really appreciated it.
LJ: Don’t worry about it. It was good to let Max and Jecht blow off some steam.
Man: Well, I best go see how badly your guys beat those four. Paul, the one who got pinned, looked like he’d gone through hell tonight. Thanks again.
LJ: Any time.
[The promoter leaves the locker room. Leonard sits alone]
LJ: Well, that was a nice break. A short tour to get the boys back into the swing of things. It’s good to do these smaller shows sometimes, to keep them in match shape. Something I admit I failed to do before the pay-per-view.
But let me not take anything away from the Crimson Calling. They did exactly what they said they were going to do. They won the match and the titles, and proved themselves the best team on the night. And it isn’t often I give such high praise, but it does need to be given. Erik, Ivan, Nathan. You three deserve those titles.
[Leonard gives some polite applause, before removing his jacket, laying it down on the bench next to him]
LJ: Now, it seems we must cross paths again. It seems again time for myself to lead my charges against Nathan’s forces, and try to guide them some way towards erasing the two defeats we have suffered at their hands. It is an unenviable position, and one I’m not too familiar with. Because what you saw earlier is what for years was the norm with Blitz. Teams would come along, be destroyed, and Blitz would move on. That seems the biggest leap from the Indies to the nationals. I was unprepared. I’ll admit it. Maybe Max and Jecht aren’t quite the PERFECT combination of speed and power they appeared at one point.
But then again, perfection would be a disappointing situation to be in, would it not?
Confused? Let me put it another way, fans of Empire Pro Wrestling. Max and Jecht used to steamroll over EVERYBODY they faced. NO-ONE stood as their equals. And when they made they debut in MCW against Rock and Mambo, they AGAIN dominated. I guess we rested on our laurels. We thought we were perfect, and got bored. We had a match scheduled with the Monsta Boyz which never took place. We worked hard for that one, but MCW closed. A few weeks later, we headed for Aggression with the same mindset we always had; to DOMINATE our opponents and leave them broken in the middle of the ring. THAT was the norm for us. But, we met a team who had the same idea as us, and had faced stiffer competition than us. They KNEW what to expect. We only THOUGHT we knew. THAT is what perfection, or the impression of being perfect, can do. It clouded us to reality.
After our loss, we thought we had them sussed. And at Black Dawn, they again dispatched us in short order. Our training had been flawed, and our efforts thwarted again. To say I look forward to this match is as unrealistic as you can get. I don’t look forward to this match.
But Max and Jecht do.
[Max enters from out of shot, speaking quietly in German to Leonard. The microphones cannot pick anything up, but Leonard nods, replying in German under his breath. Max stands to one side, sideways to the camera]
Max: Herr Dalkichev, I must say that I look forward to facing you again. Never before have I seen such power from one man. Mann kann das du zwei verschiedenen Gorillas sind sagen. Oder, das maybe you are stronger than that. Ich weiss es nicht. Aber, I can say that a confrontation with you, a challenge against you, macht viel spass fur mich. I am tired of facing and defeating these nobodies and has-beens. Dalkichev, you I await with expectation.
Und Herr Black, let us not forget you. Du sind sehr schnell. In the ring, du sind der schnellster Man. You also, I look forward to facing. Our past encounters gave me new respect for the smaller men. Du kannst verstanden, that in all my years, since I have dominated opponents of your size more times than I can count, that initially I made the mistake of thinking you would be easy to defeat. I now know better than that, and ich weiss that you will be every bit as dangerous as Ivan. Schones Gluck, Black und Dalkichev.
[Max turns to the camera, a smile on his face, his eyes burning with expectation]
LJ: By the way, Max, where is Jecht?
Max: Er ist in das Wagen.
LJ: Was macht er?
Max: Er liest.
LJ: Ja? OK. Sagst du das ich will er sagen heute nacht.
[Max nods, understanding Leonard even through his poor grammar in German. He turns to the camera, smiling again, nodding before turning and heading out the door]
LJ: That was a surprise. It seems that Max is looking forward to having a good match against the Calling this time. Jecht, I know, will be fired up.
Now, let me close with a few words for Nathan.
Congratulations. You manage the best team of the moment. Hang on to that moment, because we intend to be there every step of the way, challenging your team until we hold those straps ourselves, however long that takes. I’m in this for the long haul. This is a new beginning for Blitz. No longer THE GREATEST combination of strength and speed in the WORLD, but a team that’s striving towards that goal harder than any other. Our time will come. Hopefully soon.
[Leonard picks up his jacket, draping it over his left arm. Suddenly, his eyes seem focused and determined, as he stares right through the camera]
LJ: Nathan, those two men you have, they may hold the titles now. And I may not be as confident as I once was in Max and Jecht, but I know I don’t need to be. They are going to do EVERYTHING they can, and there is nothing you can do to stop them trying their damndest. You can win this match, or the next, or the next, but sooner or later, you’ll see what it means to be BLITZED.
[Leonard walks out of shot. As the door slams shut, FADE OUT]
EpyonMarx
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[FADE IN. An Empire Pro Wrestling back drop. Leonard Johnson, alone, stands in front, dressed in (what else?) a cheap suit]
LJ: I’m here with one thing to say, one very simple message for everyone out there. It seems that man of business, Nathan Fear, has been preparing his boys, his champions, so well for this match that he has forgotten to cut a promo. Has he suddenly thought us no challenge? Or has he noticed that Max and Jecht are more than a match for his team on this, the third encounter? Who knows.
Max and Jecht have been training, working on their strengths and weaknesses, improving. They’ve been making guest appearances, keeping in ring-condition. They’re up for this. I’m expecting a challenge from the Calling, and I sincerely hope they give us one. If we win, we want to be able to say we beat them at their best. And if we lose, we can still say they had to fight every inch of the way towards that victory. We can also use the loss as a learning experience, just like the two losses we’ve already suffered.
To be honest, I didn’t expect this from Nathan. Normally he’s so prompt, so efficient at promoting his teams matches. Is he bored with us? I know he doesn’t need the money from this match. But still, it makes me wonder. Does he consider us to not be a threat?
If that’s the case, it’s his mistake.
What more can I say? There are no smart comments from Nathan to counter yet. All I can say is that the tag team division here in Empire should prepare to be BLITZED.
[FADE OUT]
LJ: I’m here with one thing to say, one very simple message for everyone out there. It seems that man of business, Nathan Fear, has been preparing his boys, his champions, so well for this match that he has forgotten to cut a promo. Has he suddenly thought us no challenge? Or has he noticed that Max and Jecht are more than a match for his team on this, the third encounter? Who knows.
Max and Jecht have been training, working on their strengths and weaknesses, improving. They’ve been making guest appearances, keeping in ring-condition. They’re up for this. I’m expecting a challenge from the Calling, and I sincerely hope they give us one. If we win, we want to be able to say we beat them at their best. And if we lose, we can still say they had to fight every inch of the way towards that victory. We can also use the loss as a learning experience, just like the two losses we’ve already suffered.
To be honest, I didn’t expect this from Nathan. Normally he’s so prompt, so efficient at promoting his teams matches. Is he bored with us? I know he doesn’t need the money from this match. But still, it makes me wonder. Does he consider us to not be a threat?
If that’s the case, it’s his mistake.
What more can I say? There are no smart comments from Nathan to counter yet. All I can say is that the tag team division here in Empire should prepare to be BLITZED.
[FADE OUT]
EpyonMarx
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OoC: I understand, but was keeping Leonard in character. I await your responses wholeheartedly
SCENE BEGINS
(We fade into a luxurious and comfortable interior shot, with mood lighting. Music fills the air. A classical ensemble is played by a string quarter. We open up on a shot inside a large room, with several round tables garnishing with long, white tablecloths appear in the frame. Couples and groups of well-dressed men and women fill these tables of what appears to be a classy restaurant. Moving about are tuxedo-clad waiters, taking orders and delivering fancy dishes. In the foreground, a waiter leans over a table occupied by an older man and woman, looking over a menu of wine with eager interest.)
(Someone audibly clears his throat off camera. The wealthy restaurant patrons and the waiter look to the left. The senior pair give their neighbors a momentary glance, and turn away disgusted and offended. The polished serviceman with the trim moustache and rave black hair turns a shade of red, quickly thinking through a course of action. He leans over the old couple again with a heart-warming smile.)
Waiter
Un moment, s'il vous plait, monsieur et madam...
(The camera pans left to follow the waiter's movement to the next table. No surprises to who is sitting here. On the right sits the hefty-sized Russian, Ivan Dalkichev, clad in jeans and a workman's flannel shirt. Across from him, the lean and agile high-flying expert, Erik Black, wearing jeans and a hoodie. And sitting between them, front facing the camera, dressed in a lavish red suit with a matching tie that goes well against the black shirt underneath his jacket. The scowls on the faces of all three men known as the Crimson Calling shows that they are impatient and irritated... not quite having a good time. The French waiter approaches them with an apologetic smile.)
Waiter
Pardonnez moi, Monsieur Fear. Is there a problem?
(Fear slowly turns his head to look into the face of the flustered restauranteer.)
Nathan Fear
A problem, Francois? Of course there's a problem. We have been waiting for our dinner for a half an hour.
Waiter
Ah, merci. We are very busy this evening, Monsieur Fear. I'm sure you will be served in just a couple of minutes.
Nathan Fear
I certainly hope so, Francois. This is a very special occassion, you see...?
(He gestures the waiter to come in close, and "Francois" does so. Fear draws a fifty dollar bill from his coat and holds it in front of his face.)
Nathan Fear
...so see that you don't ruin it for us by cutting back on the service, okay?
Waiter
Ah... oui, Monsieur Fear. I will go to the kitchen to see what is keeping them.
Nathan Fear
Good. Off you go now.
(Fear stuffs the dollar bill into the waiter's coat pocket, and Francois steps away, bowing again in an apologetic display. Fear then leans in close to speak to his team without neighboring tables having to hear.)
Nathan Fear
Well gentlemen... I'm sorry we had to wait this long to get to this point, but at last, we can celebrate our victory at Black Dawn.
(He picks up his glass of water and holds it up over the center of the table.)
Nathan Fear
Here's to our prolific future as Empire Pro's Tag Team champions. Congratulations Erik... Ivan...
(Wordlessly, the physical side of the Calling take their own glasses, taping Nathan's, and sip back to the complimentary water. Following the toast, a silence ensues. Finally, Black shakes his head, twitching with some pent up anger.)
Erik Black
Geez, I can't believe those punks. Black Dawn was our night... it was supposed to be the eve of our destructive reign as the champions. And it was all... freaking RUINED...
Nathan Fear
Relax, Erik... we will have our revenge for the actions of the Second Coming. But as it stands right now, we have other priorities that must be met. At Aggression, the two of you fight Blitz for the third time.
Erik Black
Oh, yippee. Max the Mute and Jecht the Germ. I can hardly wait.
(Dalkichev thoughfully looks up.)
Ivan Dalkichev
Backwards, Erik.
Erik Black
Really? Well, who cares anyways. They're both just a pair of mongoloid video game rip-offs who let that whiny prick Leonard Johnson do all the talking for them.
(Fear shrugs.)
Nathan Fear
"Mongoloids," Erik? Mr. Johnson, said, after all, that either man is in the top ten percent of the world's IQ, or something like that.
Erik Black
Bullsh*t, Boss. If those idiots had any brains, they would ditch Johnson, who's nothing more than a squawking anchor, and they would STAY OUT OF THE WAY of the greatest tag team the industry's ever seen. But you saw the promo yourself. You saw ol' Vieder Shnitzel come on and say his piece about how he's looking forward to fighting us again. They're mongoloids, Boss. They just keep coming back, never learning that they are and always will be one step behind us... no matter how hard they train, or how bad they want it.
Nathan Fear
In that case, I agree with you, Erik. Our past two encounters with the team of Blitz have proven that Leonard Johnson is nothing more than an artist who excels in weaving together overexaggerated and misguided stories.
Erik Black
...in other words, bullsh*t, am I right?
(Several nearby patrons direct rude glances to the table the camera is centered on.)
Nathan Fear
Yes, Erik. Couldn't have put it better myself.
(Erik fidgits a moment longer, shaking his head and looking at the glass of water with his arms crossed over his chest.)
Nathan Fear
I thought I told you to relax.
Erik Black
Well, I'm tryin' to, Boss, but it doesn't help with this sh*tty music they're playing.
(Fear nods, and pulls out a pair of fifties from his coat pocket, handing them over to the impatient man.)
Nathan Fear
Here then. Have them play something else. Tell them I sent you.
Erik Black
Thanks...
(Taking the money, Black gets up and walks out of the camera. His partner, meanwhile, satiates his growing appetite by taking a roll and eating it in small pieces. Fear looks into the camera, and shrugs.)
Nathan Fear
...bah, what can you do? But while Erik is away, maybe I should get the ball rolling and get to a few matters. Apparently, I'm due to make a little explanation as to why I waited this long, so close to Aggression, to finally cut a promo for my team. To some people, like Blitz's Leonard Johnson, this sort of move ensues that I'm either bored or forgetful...
But leave it to narrow-minded Leonard Johnson to make these ludicrous assumptions...
If you MUST know, Lenny, I was in the hospital for the past week. You see, not too long ago, yours truly was one of the most established professional wrestlers in the foreign industry. But one day, a chair shot to my neck while my back was turned caused imrepairable damage to my spine. My professional wrestling career ended with that, and to this day, if it goes under enough strain, it pops out of place again, and I'm temporarily paralyzed for a few days until the damage heals.
I'm sorry, Lenny. Had I KNOWN the Second Coming were going to bumrush Erik, Ivan, and myself unexpectedly following our victory at Black Dawn, I might have sent you a memo. However, as it is, I am NOT telepathic. So I'm afraid you're just going to have to bear with me.
(He takes a quick sip of his water and continues.)
Nathan Fear
If I had a choice in the matter, Lenny, I WOULDN'T have appeared before you now. This celebration could be going along in a much more pleasant matter without my having to speak on the topic of Blitz. But I don't make the rules. I'm here only for the sake of promoting this match, and nothing else. And do you know why?
Well, it's just like you thought, Lenny. I AM bored with you and your team. You see, the Crimson Calling are TIRED of talking to you, telling you how it is, and proving it in the ring. We've endured enough of your egocentric speeches to know that half of what you say is, as Erik so kindly put it, overexaggerated bullsh*t. Always has been, always is, and most likely always will be. As hard as it might be for you to imagine this, Mr. Johnson, NOBODY CARES about the physical and mental prowess of Max and Jecht. NOBODY CARES who you've seen and what you think.
Our last two encounters were blatant proof that what you say makes NO difference in the ring. None at all. So, while you're team may be as phenomenal as you say they are, HISTORY SHOWS that they are inferior in skill and motivation when compared to the Crimson Calling. Simply put, the Calling are better. No ands, ifs, or buts... no excuses. Doesn't matter how close you come, or what happened at what time, because the bottom line is that one team walks out of the ring as the winner, with those tag belts... and the other team is left behind without a second thought.
Just take a look back, Johnson... don't you see a pattern developing? Every time your team gets put in the ring against mine, the Crimson Calling always get the last laugh. It's so blatantly sitting there under your nose that I hardly know WHY you still think you can beat us. You've gone beyond all points of logic and reason; your motivation now is only fueled by obsession. You want to beat us so bad that you can't even see the obvious truth.
...but Max and Jecht can't do it, Leonard.
(He shakes his head with a shrug.)
Nathan Fear
As much as Blitz trains, the Crimson Calling has trained more. As much as Max and Jecht want these belts, Erik and Ivan have already TAKEN them. For every mistake you correct, we make a new problem for you. Do you see where I'm getting? We're one step ahead of you. We've gone beyond the point where you are now. Maybe one day, you'll get lucky in another fed, and you'll be able to live the dream. But Empire Pro is the territory of the Crimson Calling.
You'd be a fool to believe your team can win this match, Leonard... and your boys are the same if they think they can live up to us. To us, Blitz is nothing more than old news...
We look forward to fighting other teams, and hopefully, following this match, we'll be able to defend against other worthy competitors. Keep in mind, that I don't believe your guys are untalented; they have the skill and the potential to go far in this industry, and it doesn't take a genius like me to figure that out.. But compared to the Crimson Calling, they are and always will be inferior.
(Erik Black returns, and takes his seat.)
Erik Black
Okay, that should fix it.
(The classical overture played by the string quartet in an unseen corner of the restaurant ends. The next piece... a little ditty by Tony Iomma, Geezer Butler, Bill Ward, and John Osbourne, known as "Iron Man". A smile crosses over Black's face.)
Erik Black
Yeah... now that's what I'm talking about.
Nathan Fear
Feeling better now?
Erik Black
Much better...
Nathan Fear
Have anything to say to Blitz?
(Still smiling while he bobs his head to the tune, he turns to the camera and shrugs.)
Erik Black
You guys just keep crawling back for more, eh? Well, that's that. We're pulling the gloves off this time. It was nice knowing you two.
(Fear nods, and looks to Dalkichev.)
Nathan Fear
And you, Ivan?
(Dalkichev nods once, turns to the camera.)
Ivan Dalkichev
Since I have been forced to listen to German, I have only this to say...
Gospodin Max... Gospodin Jecht... sosite moy zhirniy chlen, slabaki.
(He ho-ho-ho's to himself in his deep voice. Fear smiles. Then, from off camera, returns the waiter, Francois, with a troupe of other waiters carrying hefty dishes.)
Nathan Fear
Well, it's about time...
Waiter
Ah, merci s'il vous plait, Monsieur Fear. Your order has finally arrived.
Erik Black
Great, I'm starvin'!
(The next few moments go by as the three men are served. Fear has opted with a plate of Italian pasta with garlic bread. Erik Black has a t-bone steak that looks almost too large for him. Dalkichev, a vegetarian, has a salad.)
(And yes, you heard me right... the freakin' Raging Russian is a freakin' VEGETARIAN!!)
Waiter
Is everything how you like it, Monsieur Fear?
Nathan Fear
...perfect, Francois.
(Fear slips him another fifty dollar bill, and in thanks, the waiter makes his departure. Fear looks up to the camera again, donning his spoon and fork.)
Nathan Fear
If you don't mind now, I'd like to continue with this little celebration of ours. The subject of Blitz, quite frankly, puts a bad taste in my mouth, and I'd hate to let this expensive meal go to waste.
Ta-ta, for now.
(With that, we fade out as the three men begin to eat.)
SCENE ENDS
(We fade into a luxurious and comfortable interior shot, with mood lighting. Music fills the air. A classical ensemble is played by a string quarter. We open up on a shot inside a large room, with several round tables garnishing with long, white tablecloths appear in the frame. Couples and groups of well-dressed men and women fill these tables of what appears to be a classy restaurant. Moving about are tuxedo-clad waiters, taking orders and delivering fancy dishes. In the foreground, a waiter leans over a table occupied by an older man and woman, looking over a menu of wine with eager interest.)
(Someone audibly clears his throat off camera. The wealthy restaurant patrons and the waiter look to the left. The senior pair give their neighbors a momentary glance, and turn away disgusted and offended. The polished serviceman with the trim moustache and rave black hair turns a shade of red, quickly thinking through a course of action. He leans over the old couple again with a heart-warming smile.)
Waiter
Un moment, s'il vous plait, monsieur et madam...
(The camera pans left to follow the waiter's movement to the next table. No surprises to who is sitting here. On the right sits the hefty-sized Russian, Ivan Dalkichev, clad in jeans and a workman's flannel shirt. Across from him, the lean and agile high-flying expert, Erik Black, wearing jeans and a hoodie. And sitting between them, front facing the camera, dressed in a lavish red suit with a matching tie that goes well against the black shirt underneath his jacket. The scowls on the faces of all three men known as the Crimson Calling shows that they are impatient and irritated... not quite having a good time. The French waiter approaches them with an apologetic smile.)
Waiter
Pardonnez moi, Monsieur Fear. Is there a problem?
(Fear slowly turns his head to look into the face of the flustered restauranteer.)
Nathan Fear
A problem, Francois? Of course there's a problem. We have been waiting for our dinner for a half an hour.
Waiter
Ah, merci. We are very busy this evening, Monsieur Fear. I'm sure you will be served in just a couple of minutes.
Nathan Fear
I certainly hope so, Francois. This is a very special occassion, you see...?
(He gestures the waiter to come in close, and "Francois" does so. Fear draws a fifty dollar bill from his coat and holds it in front of his face.)
Nathan Fear
...so see that you don't ruin it for us by cutting back on the service, okay?
Waiter
Ah... oui, Monsieur Fear. I will go to the kitchen to see what is keeping them.
Nathan Fear
Good. Off you go now.
(Fear stuffs the dollar bill into the waiter's coat pocket, and Francois steps away, bowing again in an apologetic display. Fear then leans in close to speak to his team without neighboring tables having to hear.)
Nathan Fear
Well gentlemen... I'm sorry we had to wait this long to get to this point, but at last, we can celebrate our victory at Black Dawn.
(He picks up his glass of water and holds it up over the center of the table.)
Nathan Fear
Here's to our prolific future as Empire Pro's Tag Team champions. Congratulations Erik... Ivan...
(Wordlessly, the physical side of the Calling take their own glasses, taping Nathan's, and sip back to the complimentary water. Following the toast, a silence ensues. Finally, Black shakes his head, twitching with some pent up anger.)
Erik Black
Geez, I can't believe those punks. Black Dawn was our night... it was supposed to be the eve of our destructive reign as the champions. And it was all... freaking RUINED...
Nathan Fear
Relax, Erik... we will have our revenge for the actions of the Second Coming. But as it stands right now, we have other priorities that must be met. At Aggression, the two of you fight Blitz for the third time.
Erik Black
Oh, yippee. Max the Mute and Jecht the Germ. I can hardly wait.
(Dalkichev thoughfully looks up.)
Ivan Dalkichev
Backwards, Erik.
Erik Black
Really? Well, who cares anyways. They're both just a pair of mongoloid video game rip-offs who let that whiny prick Leonard Johnson do all the talking for them.
(Fear shrugs.)
Nathan Fear
"Mongoloids," Erik? Mr. Johnson, said, after all, that either man is in the top ten percent of the world's IQ, or something like that.
Erik Black
Bullsh*t, Boss. If those idiots had any brains, they would ditch Johnson, who's nothing more than a squawking anchor, and they would STAY OUT OF THE WAY of the greatest tag team the industry's ever seen. But you saw the promo yourself. You saw ol' Vieder Shnitzel come on and say his piece about how he's looking forward to fighting us again. They're mongoloids, Boss. They just keep coming back, never learning that they are and always will be one step behind us... no matter how hard they train, or how bad they want it.
Nathan Fear
In that case, I agree with you, Erik. Our past two encounters with the team of Blitz have proven that Leonard Johnson is nothing more than an artist who excels in weaving together overexaggerated and misguided stories.
Erik Black
...in other words, bullsh*t, am I right?
(Several nearby patrons direct rude glances to the table the camera is centered on.)
Nathan Fear
Yes, Erik. Couldn't have put it better myself.
(Erik fidgits a moment longer, shaking his head and looking at the glass of water with his arms crossed over his chest.)
Nathan Fear
I thought I told you to relax.
Erik Black
Well, I'm tryin' to, Boss, but it doesn't help with this sh*tty music they're playing.
(Fear nods, and pulls out a pair of fifties from his coat pocket, handing them over to the impatient man.)
Nathan Fear
Here then. Have them play something else. Tell them I sent you.
Erik Black
Thanks...
(Taking the money, Black gets up and walks out of the camera. His partner, meanwhile, satiates his growing appetite by taking a roll and eating it in small pieces. Fear looks into the camera, and shrugs.)
Nathan Fear
...bah, what can you do? But while Erik is away, maybe I should get the ball rolling and get to a few matters. Apparently, I'm due to make a little explanation as to why I waited this long, so close to Aggression, to finally cut a promo for my team. To some people, like Blitz's Leonard Johnson, this sort of move ensues that I'm either bored or forgetful...
But leave it to narrow-minded Leonard Johnson to make these ludicrous assumptions...
If you MUST know, Lenny, I was in the hospital for the past week. You see, not too long ago, yours truly was one of the most established professional wrestlers in the foreign industry. But one day, a chair shot to my neck while my back was turned caused imrepairable damage to my spine. My professional wrestling career ended with that, and to this day, if it goes under enough strain, it pops out of place again, and I'm temporarily paralyzed for a few days until the damage heals.
I'm sorry, Lenny. Had I KNOWN the Second Coming were going to bumrush Erik, Ivan, and myself unexpectedly following our victory at Black Dawn, I might have sent you a memo. However, as it is, I am NOT telepathic. So I'm afraid you're just going to have to bear with me.
(He takes a quick sip of his water and continues.)
Nathan Fear
If I had a choice in the matter, Lenny, I WOULDN'T have appeared before you now. This celebration could be going along in a much more pleasant matter without my having to speak on the topic of Blitz. But I don't make the rules. I'm here only for the sake of promoting this match, and nothing else. And do you know why?
Well, it's just like you thought, Lenny. I AM bored with you and your team. You see, the Crimson Calling are TIRED of talking to you, telling you how it is, and proving it in the ring. We've endured enough of your egocentric speeches to know that half of what you say is, as Erik so kindly put it, overexaggerated bullsh*t. Always has been, always is, and most likely always will be. As hard as it might be for you to imagine this, Mr. Johnson, NOBODY CARES about the physical and mental prowess of Max and Jecht. NOBODY CARES who you've seen and what you think.
Our last two encounters were blatant proof that what you say makes NO difference in the ring. None at all. So, while you're team may be as phenomenal as you say they are, HISTORY SHOWS that they are inferior in skill and motivation when compared to the Crimson Calling. Simply put, the Calling are better. No ands, ifs, or buts... no excuses. Doesn't matter how close you come, or what happened at what time, because the bottom line is that one team walks out of the ring as the winner, with those tag belts... and the other team is left behind without a second thought.
Just take a look back, Johnson... don't you see a pattern developing? Every time your team gets put in the ring against mine, the Crimson Calling always get the last laugh. It's so blatantly sitting there under your nose that I hardly know WHY you still think you can beat us. You've gone beyond all points of logic and reason; your motivation now is only fueled by obsession. You want to beat us so bad that you can't even see the obvious truth.
...but Max and Jecht can't do it, Leonard.
(He shakes his head with a shrug.)
Nathan Fear
As much as Blitz trains, the Crimson Calling has trained more. As much as Max and Jecht want these belts, Erik and Ivan have already TAKEN them. For every mistake you correct, we make a new problem for you. Do you see where I'm getting? We're one step ahead of you. We've gone beyond the point where you are now. Maybe one day, you'll get lucky in another fed, and you'll be able to live the dream. But Empire Pro is the territory of the Crimson Calling.
You'd be a fool to believe your team can win this match, Leonard... and your boys are the same if they think they can live up to us. To us, Blitz is nothing more than old news...
We look forward to fighting other teams, and hopefully, following this match, we'll be able to defend against other worthy competitors. Keep in mind, that I don't believe your guys are untalented; they have the skill and the potential to go far in this industry, and it doesn't take a genius like me to figure that out.. But compared to the Crimson Calling, they are and always will be inferior.
(Erik Black returns, and takes his seat.)
Erik Black
Okay, that should fix it.
(The classical overture played by the string quartet in an unseen corner of the restaurant ends. The next piece... a little ditty by Tony Iomma, Geezer Butler, Bill Ward, and John Osbourne, known as "Iron Man". A smile crosses over Black's face.)
Erik Black
Yeah... now that's what I'm talking about.
Nathan Fear
Feeling better now?
Erik Black
Much better...
Nathan Fear
Have anything to say to Blitz?
(Still smiling while he bobs his head to the tune, he turns to the camera and shrugs.)
Erik Black
You guys just keep crawling back for more, eh? Well, that's that. We're pulling the gloves off this time. It was nice knowing you two.
(Fear nods, and looks to Dalkichev.)
Nathan Fear
And you, Ivan?
(Dalkichev nods once, turns to the camera.)
Ivan Dalkichev
Since I have been forced to listen to German, I have only this to say...
Gospodin Max... Gospodin Jecht... sosite moy zhirniy chlen, slabaki.
(He ho-ho-ho's to himself in his deep voice. Fear smiles. Then, from off camera, returns the waiter, Francois, with a troupe of other waiters carrying hefty dishes.)
Nathan Fear
Well, it's about time...
Waiter
Ah, merci s'il vous plait, Monsieur Fear. Your order has finally arrived.
Erik Black
Great, I'm starvin'!
(The next few moments go by as the three men are served. Fear has opted with a plate of Italian pasta with garlic bread. Erik Black has a t-bone steak that looks almost too large for him. Dalkichev, a vegetarian, has a salad.)
(And yes, you heard me right... the freakin' Raging Russian is a freakin' VEGETARIAN!!)
Waiter
Is everything how you like it, Monsieur Fear?
Nathan Fear
...perfect, Francois.
(Fear slips him another fifty dollar bill, and in thanks, the waiter makes his departure. Fear looks up to the camera again, donning his spoon and fork.)
Nathan Fear
If you don't mind now, I'd like to continue with this little celebration of ours. The subject of Blitz, quite frankly, puts a bad taste in my mouth, and I'd hate to let this expensive meal go to waste.
Ta-ta, for now.
(With that, we fade out as the three men begin to eat.)
SCENE ENDS