Daymon vs. Douglas vs. Brown

[SteelCitySon]

Triple threat match for a match with Adam Benjamin and a shot at the IC title at Black Dawn. Only one man may advance...

 

[RStrawsma]

OORP: I only want to say this one time... my roleplaying format is, what I presume, easy to follow. Everything that is taped and played for the public to see is in between the SCENE BEGINS and SCENE ENDS tags. Anything else is off-camera. I'm saying this, cause part (rather, ALL) of this is a story roleplay, and I'd hate the see keyfabe broken with Rocko's opponents remarking on scenes that, technically, were never seen by anybody but the involved parties.

Thank you for understanding, gentlemen, and good luck this week.

AT HOME

(Wednesday morning, she returned to her own doorstep. Caitlyn Daymon sighed with relief, but felt cold. It wasn't the air; it was the proximity. She had never in her life felt more alone or vulnerable.)

(Before she could even set one of her suitcases on the ground to ring the doorbell, the door swung open. Filling the frame was a giant of a man, and her brother, Kyle. His face bore a grin from ear to ear.)

Kyle Valentine
Hey HEY, Kiddo!

(In a heartbeat, one of his trunk-like arms lashed out and hooked itself around her neck, yanking her forward into the house hard enough to leave an ache in her neck. Sometimes, her older brother, always a rough-housing type in his youth, forgot the sway of his strength. Still, she put on a polite smile as he tucked her head under his arm and chaffed his knuckles deep into her cranium with a God-sized nouggy.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Ow... get offa me, boy!

(She pushed him off, which would have normally been impossible with his weight if he really meant to hold her that way. He backed awayj, the same boyish grin on his face with his dark hair, neatly trimmed into a sharp crewcut as opposed to the messy long-haired grunge look she had associated with him for her entire life.)

Caitlyn Daymon
You got a haircut!

Kyle Valentine
I know I did!

(Inside the frontdoor was the open "greeting area" of the Daymon household, which Caitlyn's brother and sister had occupied in order to watch over her son. Further on was the short hall to the family den, where two more people appeared. First, bounding out at an energetic speed on his pudgy legs, was Kincaid Daymon, coming up near the end of his fourth year. What amazed her was the length of his hair; apparently, Kyle had not taken the boy to get a decent haircut in the time the Daymons had been away.)

Kincaid Daymon
MOMMY!

(She had only a moment to drop into a crouch and spread her arms, catching the boy into a warm embracing hug. His wet lips, which smelled faintly of Oreos and macaroni and cheese, found her cheek.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Hey, baby... I missed you.

Kincaid Daymon
I missed you too, Mommy!

(They pulled apart after a few moments. Caitlyn stood up, noticing her younger sister Rebecca also admiring the scene next to the still grinning Kyle. Kincaid hung at his mother's hand, his face surprised and happy to be reunited with his mother.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Anything happen while we were gone?

(Kyle shook his head. At her arm was a tug. She looked down to her son again.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Yeah baby? What's wrong?

Kincaid Daymon
Where's Daddy?

(She felt herself smile a little, in spite of his naïvity, and after a second's thought, she answered the tyke's question.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Daddy's not going to come home for a few more weeks, Kinny... I'm sorry.

(The boy's countenance changed from overly excited to extremely disappointed. He looked down, and thankfully said nothing more on the issue. She looked up to her older and younger siblings. Kyle's grin had reverted back to his normal expression--the Smirk, as the Valentine Family called it--though his eyes were passionate and understanding.)

Kyle Valentine
Yeah, we saw on TV...

(Rebecca Valentine, the quiet one of the family, nodded slowly.)

Rebecca Valentine
At least he did his best...

(Caitlyn made a single curt nod, and started for the den, with her son at her hand. She entered the living room, well kept, thanks to her younger sister, and fell into the comfortable sofa for the first time in what seemed like months--it had actually only been a few weeks.)

Kincaid Daymon
Guess what I made today!

Caitlyn Daymon
What did you make, baby?

Kincaid Daymon
It's in my room!

Caitlyn Daymon
Well, okay... how about you go get it, and bring it back to show me?

(The child scampered away in the blink of an eye, bouncing with youthful energy. In the seat next to her fell Kyle Valentine, nearly pitching her into the air with the momentum of his weight coming down on the sofa.)

Kyle Valentine
So Rocko stayed in Philadelphia?

Caitlyn Daymon
That's right.

(Rebecca took a seat nearby, sitting at the end, hanging onto every word.)

Rebecca Valentine
Is he that broken up about it?

Caitlyn Daymon
I guess so. Normally, he... he just doesn't say anything... like after the match against Christian Sands. But this time, I don't know. He was acting... kind of weird...

Kyle Valentine
Weird... in what way?

Caitlyn Daymon
...I don't know... he, uh... he got sick, and he was in the Men's room for a while. Some time later, he came out, and said he had done some thinking. Here's the funny thing, though... do you know who found him there?

Rebecca Valentine
Who?

Caitlyn Daymon
...Clapper.

(There was a thump: Kyle's fist, as it came down hard on his knee. His face, usually very benevolent, had strained into a stone look of dire hatred.)

Kyle Valentine
Clapper, that bastard...

Rebecca Valentine
Well, what happened?

Caitlyn Daymon
...uhh... supposedly, the two talked. No fighting, which I was thankful for. I don't think Rocko could take him a second time... especially not after that match. He told me this later, and then... then he told me to come back home, so I did without thinking much about it. I figured... he just needs a little time alone, to sort himself out.

(Rebecca nodded understandingly. Kyle's face was still tensed.)

Kyle Valentine
Damnit... this is bullsh*t! What do you think Clapper talked to him about?

Rebecca Valentine
I think Kyle is bringing up a good point... Rocko may not have been in the most positive state of mind... and you know how easy it is to convince him of doing something drastic...

Kyle Valentine
Yeah, I mean, SH*T, he could have told him to jump off a bridge!

(There was a moment of silence, then Caitlyn shook her head.)

Caitlyn Daymon
Out of all honesty? I don't think he talked to Clapper...

Kyle Valentine
...huh?

Caitlyn Daymon
I stood outside the door of the Men's Room for the entire time he was in there... about an hour. Anybody who tried to go in, I politely asked to find another restroom. I wanted Rocko to be alone.

Kyle Valentine
And somehow Clapper got in there?

Caitlyn Daymon
I... I really don't know. Maybe Rocko lied about Clapper. Maybe he just made that up...

Rebecca Daymon
Why would he make up something like that?

(Caitlyn was silent, trying to sort everything through her head. But then, the voice of her nearly four-year-old son broke her train of thought, and brought her back to earth.)

Kincaid Daymon
Here it is, Mommy!

(All thoughts of her husband were put on hold at that moment as she admired the macaroni and cheese collage her son had presented her, and encouraged his artistic ability. Her feelings, however, would not change, and every time she smiled down into the face of Kincaid Daymon, who bore so much resemblence to her father it was frightened, she felt saddened... pitiful... and most of all, afraid.)

END

 

[EpyonMarx]

OoC: I can understand and respect that Ryan, but I must ask whether or not ones like that, which serve to develop the character without promoting the match to the general public, would best be put in the Air Time forum for character development? Just a thought.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[FADE IN. Traditional setting for Karl; standing in a forest clearing, dressed in jeans, walking boots and fleece jacket, leaning against a tree]

Karl: I lost. Ah, well. I gave it my all. Only two of us know what happened when the lights went out. You should be thankful, Christian, that the lights did go out, because you did not kick out. I’d have felt it. Your shoulders stayed firmly on the mat for what would have been the three, and you know it. So, whilst I admit defeat, don’t even begin to think you won it easily; you were pinned, and it was by luck that you won. As I said, a little bit of luck is all you need sometimes. So, enjoy your match against Beast and Suicide, and best of luck. I’ll see you somewhere down the road again.

And now, I have a different title to look forward to; the IC belt. My opponents are Rocko Daymon and Troy Douglas. One man who I’ve fought before, and one whom is new to me. Let me start with Rocko, the man who gave me my second professional loss.

Rocko, you claimed against Adam Benjamin that one match doesn’t mean you’re better. In the same promo though, you dropped my name as if you were somehow better than me because you defeated me in MCW. I should remind you, Rocko, that you defeated me because of a distraction from Sands. I’d countered your Phantom Train, and had you hooked for the Dragon’s Bite. You weren’t struggling to get out. Christian’s distraction gave you the chance to catch your breath, and catch me off guard. You admitted that you’d have lost if it weren’t for Christian’s timely interference. I was mildly pleased when you said that. It made me think you had some dignity. Yet, you decide to claim that you’re better than me just a couple of months down the line because you beat me. Isn’t that the same thing you were chastising Adam for doing? ‘Hypocrisy is a disease, and you are an obvious carrier,’ I think you said. The same is true of you, my friend.

You claimed to have drive and determination to win this tournament. As Maelstrom showed you in his first and last outing here, that’s not enough. Hell, Christian said he was more driven than me, and it came down to the lights being cut, him hitting a low blow, then his finishing move. No matter how driven you say you are, you can always, as you now know, be defeated. I never claimed to be in this tournament for the title. I’m here to face challenges in the ring and surpass my abilities. My two proudest moments are actually in defeat, against Benjamin in Mayhem Mountain, and last week against Sands. What’s your proudest moment in this business? Winning a title? Or knowing you gave your all, lost, but proved that you can surpass your own expectations?

Rocko, you are a talented wrestler with a lot of heart, skill, and determination, and I take nothing away from your in ring work. However, you seem to keep looping around in circles in your promos. You can go from ultra confident to little confidence, from making a point to contradicting yourself. You do it so often it’s mind-boggling. It is a good thing you’re not so wishy-washy in the ring, because otherwise you’d be forgotten not only as SCW champion, but as a wrestler as well. And since you seem to have this apparent ‘look at me and how much I fight through’ attitude, to be forgotten would be one of the worst things that could happen to you.

Now, Troy Douglas. I must say, from what I’ve seen, I’m looking forward to squaring off against you. You, like Rocko, have a history in this business to be proud of. You’ve won a lot of titles, and whilst some may try and deride your accomplishments, I applaud you. No matter what people say, to win that many titles does take some skill. And from what I’ve seen, you still have those skills. What can I say about you?

Only that, like Rocko, you’re going to be a test of my abilities. You have a lot of things in your history to pull out and say ‘this is me’ with, but at the end of the day, come the ringing of the bell and the start of the match, that all means nothing. A single mistake, a single slip, one single second… that’s all it takes to lose. Rocko knows that, I’m sure you know that too Troy. I know it.

You two can claim all you want that you have done it all for glory. I really don’t care. The past is the past. It is something to learn from, not dwell on. Past accomplishments can be used to illustrate a past greatness, but have nothing to say about an upcoming match. Our match, to see who goes on to face Adam Benjamin, has, if you look at the history of things, the potential to be a classic. Will it be? That’s for the match itself to decide.

[Karl bends down, lifting a decaying leaf from the forest floor, and holding it up to the breeze. The camera pulls in closer]

Karl: When all is said and done, the only certainty in life is death. [Karl lets the leaf go, and it blows away out of shot]

Karl: None of the three of us knows what’s going to happen. None of us knows who is going to win this match. So don’t start pretending to be the big bad boogiemen that are going to win because they say so, because you have no more guarantees than I do that I’m going to. All I can say is train hard, and come the end of the match, we’ll know who the victor is. Then we can go about our lives as always.

See you two in New Jersey.

[Karl walks past the camera, which turns to the right to show the dense forest. FADE OUT]

 

[CuseTroy]

Opporunity's Knocking Boys...

FADE IN

We enter room 1914 at Manhattan's Doubletree Guest Suites on the corner of 48th and Broadway. For the next two weeks, this is the residence of one Troy A. Douglas, professional wrestler. On this late February morning, the man himself sits upright in his bed, intently watching his television, which he immediately turns off when he notices the camera. Obviously dressed for a workout, he wears a pair of simple black sweatpants and a GXW Battleground Britain t-shirt. A discarded copy of the New York Times rests on the night stand next to the bed. He casually brushes some loose hair out of his eyes, looks pointedly at the camera, and begins to speak.

Troy Douglas:

Well, seems the ol' master plan didn't quite work out the way I thought it would. Nope, my good friend Monsieur Wescott took care of that in Philly last week. Marcus, in front of the people who cheered for me back in the NFL, the fans who embraced a smart aleck Carolina kid, you stole my World Title shot with a backslide. You won, Marcus. You got the better of me. You won, but you did not beat me. The battle is yours, the war between us is far from over. One day, Marcus, you'll know what it's like to walk in my shoes. One day, you'll meet the End of the Road head on. But, that's not what I'm here to talk about.

It's an old adage, one door closes, but another opens. I lost, and it hurts, but that ain't it for me. Nope, I got a shot to move on to Black Dawn, taking place just 14 blocks from this hotel room, to be the very first Empire Pro Intercontinnental Champion. But first, I got a hell of a task on my hands just to get to Adam Benjamin at M....S....G. That task is not one, but two fine competitiors, Karl Brown...and Rocko Daymon. And, whilst I have been silent for the past several days, I have not been idle. I've been doing a little homework. Let's take a look, shall we?

Troy pulls two very thick beige file folders from underneath the newspaper. He opens the first, which has a picture of Rocko Daymon, along with several sheets of information on the inside.

Troy Douglas:

You see, Rocko, Karl, I like to know a little about my opponents before I step between the ropes with them. These two folders are your complete, and I do mean complete dossiers. All of your histories, your tendencies, the move by move summary of every match you've ever had, it's all here. As Yogi Berra said, ninety percent of the game is half mental, and this boy likes to come in prepared. I'll start with you, Rocko. Let's see...Robert James DeLion, alias Rochester "Rocko" Daymon. Hmm...rather sordid past, I see. But we'll not get into the personal stuff just yet. Style...Japanese/Asian influences mixed with technical skill, with a bit of good ol' Memphis style wrasslin' thrown in for kicks. Good, very good. I'm impressed, Rocko, that's a hell of a place to be comin' from.

Troy picks up the second folder and opens it.

Troy Douglas:

Now, let's move on to opponent number two. Karl Brown...AKA "The Dragon". Hails from Nottingham, England and...my, my, a ring rat like myself if there ever was one. According to this, you, Karl, make up for your deficiency in size with quickness and techincal superiority. This is good stuff, boys, very good. I must say, if you've never had a college research department analyze your opponents for you, go and try it. But you know something, kiddos, all the facts in the world, they won't make a lick of difference once the three of us step into the ring in East Rutherford for Aggression. No, once we get into that squared circle, it's all about which one of us is willing to put the most on the line in order to walk into Black Dawn for a shot at the IC title.

Hmm. Putting it all on the line. That's something I think I might know a little bit about. Let's go to the tape.

Troy clicks the remote, and a highlight reel from the X-treme Title 'I Quit' match at Battleground Britain. CUT TO: Troy hitting David Black with a piledriver onto a chair. CUT TO: Troy falling through a table littered with thumbtacks, blood gushing from his back. CUT TO: Troy being dragged along by Clapper's moving Jaguar. CUT TO: Troy hitting an Implant DDT on Clapper. CUT TO: Troy's back breaking a bathroom sink at Millennium Stadium. CUT TO: Troy whipping Clapper with a length of barbed wire attached to a piece of timber. CUT TO: Troy hitting the End of the Road on David Black, and locking in the "Fool Me Once" Scorpion Deathlock. CUT TO: Troy passed out in the parking lot, the victim of Clapper's "Black Noose" hold. CUT TO: Clapper turning to Troy Douglas and handing him the X-treme Title. CUT TO: Troy, blood and tears streaming down his face, a weary smile on his face as he cradles the gold to his chest.

Troy Douglas:

THAT folks, is leaving it all on the line. That match took me to places I never thought I'd go, physically and psychologically. I nearly broke a man's neck, twice. I nearly broke my back against a sink, fell through a table and had 274 thumbtacks sticking out my back, and got dragged around on concrete by a speeding car. Finally, I withstood the most devastating hold in wrestling today and PASSED OUT COLD before I would utter the words "I Quit". Because I will never quit. Not in one match, not in my quest to be Empire Pro world champion. I left once, and it killed me to be away from the ring. I'm not running away any more. I'm right here, right now, ready to face two of the finest competitors the wrestling circuit has to offer.

Rocko, though we've never faced each other, or even really met, I feel you and I have something in common. A past of loss, pain, and sh*t neither of us would rather talk about. The difference between the two of us is, that right now I'm the one whose got his attention focused on the ring. And hey, that ain't your fault. In three weeks with this company, you've gone from a bye in the world title tournament, to facing one of the most dangerous men in the industry, to finding out that a couple hours after you lose to him that this very same man had quit the company. I mean, that's a lot to go through!

But Rocko, right now, you gotta focus kid. This match has a lot at stake for all three of us, so you had better damn well know that going into it. Personal problems mean nothing when you walk into the sacred square. That's your channel for escape, Rocko. You got stuff to deal with, deal with it. But in that ring, you gotta realize what you're up against. And that just ain't me, Rocko, it's the party in our little triumvirate at the Continnental Airlines Arena.

That brings me to you once again, Karl Brown. Let's make it simple. You impressed me against Sands, but first, I don't care whether or not you kicked out, and second, just because you impressed me doesn't mean you'll get any slack. You'll go somewhere big someday, Karl. But, if I have anything to say about it, you won't be going to Black Dawn for a shot at the Intercontinnental Title. That, my British friend, I will do everything in my power to ensure will be my distinct honor.

You see, I've been listening to our friend Mr. Benjamin talking about how he gets no respect from anyone around here. Adam, you've got my respect, because you're the man standing there at the finish line, blocking me from my victory. In life, or in wrestling, if you don't respect your obstacles, you'll never overcome them. But right now, you don't mean sh*t to me Adam Benjamin. Next week, if and when I face off with you, then you'll be important. Right now, I got Rocko Daymon and Karl Brown to worry about.

You two boys, you're both deserving of this. Hell, all three of us are deserving of being in the main event this week. Each of us has our own story to tell, and this is mine.

He pulls out one last file folder, this one with a picture of himself on the inside.

Troy Douglas:

Troy Douglas ... born 7th June 1976, Greensboro, North Carolina ... former All-State wrestler, football player, and basketball player ... retired from an NFL career after a back injury suffered 19th December 1999, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ... 3 times a World Heavyweight Champion ... 17 overall singles and tag titles ... first multi-time GXW X-treme Champion ... well versed in mat and power wrestling, with the ability to go aerial ... Favors an "old school" style of wrestling, brought upon by his years of studying his childhood wrestling idols, Hornet and Mark Windham ... Mother, Nancy Lowe Douglas, deceased 8th June 1976 ... Father, Jacob Michael Douglas, deceased 5th February 2003 ... Fiancee, Lauren Anne Bennett, deceased 5th February 2003 ... returned from 4 1/2 month absence from wrestling in December 2003 due to "unspecified personal situations".

That's me, kids. Just the facts, and I told 'em all to both of y'all, and the entire world. That just proves one thing. That all the studyin' y'all can do, t'ain't important once you go between the ropes. That's when training, and wishing, and studying can't do none of y'all no good anymore. That's when heart, and guts, and instincts come in to play. That's when the survivors come out. That, gentlemen, is my time. I give it all I got every time for two reasons, because I expect of myself, and because my fans expect it of me. They'll never get a bad performance from me, no sir. I sure as hell hope not we don't get one from either of you in East Rutherford.

So, Rocko and Karl, bring what you got to Jersey, and I'll bring what I got. Then we'll see whose got what it takes. If it ain't me, good luck to the victor. If I win, that IC title's dead in my sights, and it's just the stepping stone to the big prize. Jersey's gonna be fun, boys, always is.

That's my part, the next move is left to one of y'all. See ya at the end of the road.

...FADE TO BLACK

 

[RStrawsma]

Hurt

SCENE BEGINS

I hurt myself today...

To see if I still feel...

I focus on the pain...

The only thing that's real...

The needle tears a hold...

The old familiar sting...

Try to kill it all away...

But I remember everything...

(As the voice of the fallen music titan, Johnny Cash, drifts on through the darkness, we slowly fade into a scene of color. Extreme close-up in what is presumed to be an outdoor area. From a green haze, the picture quiety sharpens, revealing a scene of tree foliage. At the bottom of the frame is a branch, where a caterpillar slowly crawls along. The footage is being played in slow motion.)

(We get a voice playing along...)

Rocko Daymon
"I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream, it's my nightmare. Crawling, slipping along the edge of a straight razor and surviving..."

(Moment of silence. Slow breathing can be heard on the other end.)

Rocko Daymon
Marlon Brando, from Apocalypse Now, circa 1979...

...and somehow, with everything that's happened, that quote keeps coming back to me... every minute of my existence, it echoes inside my skull. And the more I hear it... the more and more it begins to make sense.

Aggression was my razor's edge... and I crawled every inch of the way, through a match that was clocked at thirty eight excruciating minutes...

(Another pause, and by the coldness with the following statement, you could almost picture him sneering.)

Rocko Daymon
...and I failed.

(He sighs.)

Rocko Daymon
Sometimes, I think I'm in hell, trapped in a small room with a tiny window. Only to me, that window looks like a door... and every time I try to get free, I get lost in the darkness--blinded by my own naivity and pride--and bang my f*cking head on the wall...

It's like... trying to roll a boulder up a hill.

(The caterpillar pauses in its movement, coming up off its first three or four sets of legs, its dark glossy eyes looking skyward, as if pleading to the heavens for an answer to all of his struggles.)

Rocko Daymon
I keep thinking back on that match... every minute I get, I keep thinking of what I could have done better, or what I most assuredly did wrong...

That face... in my head... burned there. Surrender was never my option... but sometimes, I wish I had rather died in that ring... so I don't have to face what I now call the Future...

(The caterpillar, after checking out the area, continues on his merry little way, completely oblivious.)

Rocko Daymon
Two men await me in another city, in another arena, in the same promotion... but it matters little to me. My dreams have been crushed. My hopes have been erased. I never was the kind of guy who liked to settle for second best...

And I won't settle for it now. Four men in the running for a second-rate belt... myself included, yet I'm hardly interested. Three of these men must compete among eachother...

In the end, what it comes down to is not who is the most determined, or talented, or focused, or non-hypocritical...

(From off camera, in slow-motion, a hulking shape enters the frame. A bird, whose beak, in a quiet grace, comes down and plucks the caterpillar from the branch. As the green worm wriggles between both deadly carapices, the bird flies away.)

Rocko Daymon
It's all about who I choose...

(Fade to black, as the music ends.)

SCENE ENDS

 

[EpyonMarx]

[FADE IN. Karl is standing at the side of a broad in Norfolk, England. On the opposite bank is a small wood. The grass around the broad is well maintained and cut recently. Karl is in usual jeans and fleece. After a few seconds, he turns to face the camera]

Karl: It seems the players have all said their first pieces. Their soliloquies if you will. We’ve seen myself going on about how none of us can tell who is going to win. We’ve had Troy talk about knowing your opponent, and we’ve had Rocko going on as if his one loss is the end of the world. Let me begin by addressing Troy.

You are right in studying your opponents. And I’m glad that you have been able to get such thorough information about myself and Rocko. It gives you an approximate idea of what to expect. However, I must say this. No amount of studying will give you the edge over your opponent. You may be able to see through certain ploys by knowing what to expect. However, in any match, there are more variables than research can predict. Which is something you have realised in part. Once we step between the ropes, the three of us are strangers in effect. I will know nothing about what you have planned until you do it. Neither do you of me. My approach to this match, training wise, is how I train for every match. But as you’ll notice, none of my matches has a set pattern. I prefer a technical style, but do not be surprised to see me alter and adapt to the situation. Ask Benjamin. In Mayhem Mountain, as your research will tell you, I used a more weapons filled style because that was what we had to hand. My style in this match will depend, as always, on how you and Rocko decide to carry yourselves. If you both use a technical style, I’ll use something to counter. If you adopt a roughhouse approach, I’ll find some way to counter. Never become dependant on research, Troy. I say this as advice. Becoming dependant on research will make it harder for you to adapt to any deviations Rocko or I make from what your research would make you think is our ‘norm’.

You did well in that match in GXW. But, this is not GXW. It also doesn’t matter if you put it all on the line or not. You can sacrifice everything, yet you can still lose. In wrestling, it’s not who wants it more or who is prepared to sacrifice the most. In fact, if you were to sacrifice everything, or as you put it, ‘put everything on the line,’ then you run the risk of defeating yourself.

Troy, when we set foot in that ring at Aggression, the three of us have a chance. Who has the skills? Whose side will the luck be on?

Now, onto Rocko. A man who seems to have developed a messiah complex.

Rocko, you lost. Now, you say that loss hurts you. The loss crushed your dreams. The loss makes you think you’re rolling a boulder up hill. Now, I ask, who exactly are you trying to appeal to? The usual sympathy support you seem to try to elicit each and every promo? ‘Look at me; I’m Rocko Daymon, look at what I’ve been through.’ Sorry, Rocko, but that was then, and this is now. I don’t really care if you took a year out of action, if you had a sordid childhood, or if that drives you. You can’t change your past any more than I can. Likewise, you can’t change the fact that you lost to Maelstrom. In wrestling, there’re winners and losers. Each and every night in each card, no matter the size or stature or the company, people lose. So you can’t become the first Empire Pro champion? Who cares? Those who care greatly about that belt are focusing on Sands, Suicide and Beast.

You say you wish you’d died in that ring? How much sympathy are you trying to drag out of people? If you were as good as your claims had made, you’d shrug this off as one loss. It’s not the end of the world.

[Karl spreads his arms, stepping away from the camera, and speaks very exaggeratedly]

Karl: ‘Oh no, Rocko lost a match, THE WORLD IS DOOMED’

[He brings his arms back to his sides, talking normally again]

Karl: No, Rocko. All you are showing is how pathetic you are with statements like that. You prove to everyone that you aren’t a man. You can’t handle one loss. If you lose this week, what’re you going to do? Cut your next promo on the edge of a cliff before you jump off?

And then we come back to my comment about you having a messiah complex. It’s about who you choose now is it? Sorry, Rocko, but I’ve never bowed down to the whim of an opponent. And I don’t intend to start for someone as pathetic as you. You won’t choose who wins this match. That’s still to be decided. In the ring. There are three of us. It’s not in your hands. It’s in our hands.

You’re not really interested in this title? Tough. I’m not overly interested right now in winning the IC title. I’m here to test my skills against you and Troy. If I get to face Adam Benjamin at Black Dawn, then I’ll have interest in winning that title, because it’ll be a show that my skills have improved.

Yes, Adam, I haven’t forgotten Mayhem Mountain and our promise to one day see who the greater technician was. I’m going to do all I can to face you at Black Dawn for the IC title. You just sit back and watch.

[Karl turns to face the water. The camera moves round to the side of him, showing him in profile]

Karl: Rocko Daymon, Troy Douglas, Karl Brown. Three men in one match to decide one participant in another match. Good luck to the two of you. Troy, I look forward to facing you. Rocko, I look forward to facing you at your best. If either of you aren’t going to bring your best, then don’t turn up. You’ll need your best. Just as I will. When this match is over, we’ll know who, on the night, the better man was. Until then, make all the promises you want. I’ll back my words up in the ring, like I always do.

[Karl sighs, staring across the broad for a few seconds, before turning out of shot. The camera pans round to follow him as he walks up the path, and we see a few concrete buildings to the right of shot, with a banner reading ‘University of East Anglia welcomes back THE DRAGON’. FADE OUT]