Handler Information
Name: Greg
Email Address: gscale88@comcast.net
Preferred Method of Handling: Don't Care
Best Way to Contact You: Forum PM
eWrestling Experience: OLW, Defiance, WfWA, MSWA, TIW, CSWA
How did you find Defiance? Jeff pointed me back in the right direction
Wrestler(s) Information
Ring Name: Python
Height: 5'10
Weight: 178 lbs
Hailing From: Newark, NJ
Alignment: Face
Gimmick: Young mega face. An innovative risk taker in the ring. One of a kind in terms of wrestling style and moveset. Modest, genuine, passionate kid with balls and the skills to back them up.
Wrestling Style: Python is an incredibly daring and creative wrestler. A high flyer with solid training in grappling and mat wrestling to fall back on, he is often seen stringing moves together to create new ones or putting his own twists on classic moves to catch his opponent off guard. He’s always looking to show the crowd something they’ve never seen before. Python’s main offensive strategy revolves strongly around high risk and speed-based attacks. As a result, many of his matches quickly turn into spot-fests. If he sees a chance to flip or fly he's all over it if it means gaining an advantage. If he has to put his body on the line, then so be it. Because of his young age and average size, fans find it easy to relate to him. This combined with his “never say die” attitude and the ridiculous things he puts his body through in order to get the win and give the fans a good show makes him a huge fan favorite. Win or lose, Python always gives the crowd their money’s worth.
Three Weaknesses: Small stature, high risk-taker, will always do the right thing before the smart thing
Three Strengths: Agility, inventive style (difficult to predict or prepare against), pound for pound toughness
MOVESET
Ten regular moveset moves:
1) Standing Moonsault
2) Sit Out Jawbreaker
3) Falling Arm Breaker
4) Crucifix Armbar
5) Hurricanrana
6) Flying Wheel Kick
7) Missile Dropkick (sometimes to the knee)
8) Springboard Legdrop
9) Indian Deathlock
10) Enzugiri
2-5 trademark moves:
1) The Constrictor (Python jumps up into a hurricanrana position but rolls forward and pulls opponent down into a modified surfboard hold)
2) Leg sweep quickly followed by standing Shooting Star Press
3) Somersault Roll into Spear Tackle
4) DDT into Arm Triangle Choke
5) Spinning Heel Kick into Headscissors
1 Finishing Move: The Snake Bite (Can only really be classified as a Springboard Corkscrew Tornado Jawbreaker. Python jumps up onto the top rope and hurtles back toward his opponent in a corkscrew. As he twists, he catches his opponent by the head and swings around, slamming his/her jaw down sharply onto his knees at the moment of impact with the floor. Sometimes used to counter an irish whip.)
Writing Sample
------------------------------
12/20/08
8:57 P.M.
Greenwood Park Arena in Toronto, Ontario
------------------------------------
PYTHON: Damnit! Excuse me. Excuse me, I’m sorry…
[The fans in the aisle seats on the floor of Greenwood Park Arena have been whipped into a frenzy, yelling and stretching their fingers out to touch the WWA World Champion as he attempts to push his way through them and reach one of the arena exits. Python has just jumped the ringside barrier and escaped into the crowd, traveling as quickly as possible away from Cobra, The Serpentalists, and the gigantic venomous snake in the center of the ring. He doesn’t look back, but the sound of Cobra preaching and his minions chanting grows softer and softer as he gets further away from the ring. Python straightens up and slows to a quick walk as he realizes he isn’t being followed. At least, not by Cobra. A swarm of security guards have showed up to push the small crowd of fans back into their seats. The guards move to form a small circle around Python, but he waves them off and continues slowly back up the aisle and toward the exit, deftly slapping some hands and smiling for some pictures along the way. Every couple of seconds or so, he looks up toward the EXIT sign over the door at the end of the aisle. It doesn’t seem to be getting any closer as he moves toward it… or maybe he’s not even moving anymore. The adrenaline from the situation he was in a moment ago has vacated his body just as quickly as it came. Python takes one last look back at the ring to make sure he’s safe before collapsing into an empty seat, exhausted. It isn’t exactly ringside, but it’s a floor seat with a great view. Seats in this section probably cost a bundle, but he doesn’t expect any security guards to kick him out any time soon.]
[It takes him a couple of seconds to notice the porky young woman sitting to his right. Her long hair tied back in pigtails, she is wearing a horribly undersized black and white International Influence zip-up hoodie and an excessive amount of eye makeup. And for the icing on the cake, she is blatantly staring at him.]
PYTHON: Um… hi.
[Her lower lip drops a little, but she doesn’t say anything. Python shifts uneasily in his seat and turns his attention toward the ring. Suddenly, he feels the air leave his lungs and he silently travels back to his childhood when he used to watch his father wrestle. He must have gone to at least two hundred shows as a kid. It feels like a completely different lifetime.]
[Taking one last quick look around at the surrounding fans, he settles down in his seat and tries his best to focus on the action in the ring. Cobra and his clan are long gone. The Sex Symbols have just made a fairly unentertaining entrance and The Truly Untouchables’ music now fills the arena to a mixed reception of whistles and jeers. Python mutters under his breath and hunches down a little further in his seat as he watches Cole Christenson and Jonny Booya appear on the entrance ramp. At one point, Christenson’s gaze sweeps over the section that Python is sitting in… the big man’s eyes seem to pass right through him.]
PYTHON: This is so weird…
ERICA: What’s that?
[At last, the portly woman next to him has seemingly found the courage to say something. It’s not much, but it is an entirely appropriate question.]
PYTHON: Oh, nothing. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
[She blushes and nods, making it a point to quickly turn her gaze back to the ring. Afraid he may have sounded irritated, Python clears his throat and turns to the young woman.]
PYTHON: I’m sorry. It’s just, you know. I’m… I usually don’t…
[He trips over his words a little bit as he struggles to explain his situation without making it sound boastful.]
PYTHON: Well, I guess you must have just seen me out there, so you know who I am.
ERICA: Of course I do! I’m a huge fan.
PYTHON: Well thank you, miss.
ERICA: Um… Erica. My name is Erica.
PYTHON: Matt. Pleased to meet you, Erica.
[He offers her a hand. Smiling from ear to ear, she takes it with both hands and shakes it enthusiastically.]
ERICA: I never knew your name was Matt. Well, I mean… not before a minute ago when that crazy guy was calling you Matt.
PYTHON: Oh, yes. That crazy guy. One of many in the long list of crazy guys I’ll be dealing with for the rest of my life in this industry.
[A collective din goes up from a small group of fans near the aisle where Jonny Booya has just taken a swing at a fan. Python shakes his head.]
PYTHON: Idiot.
ERICA: Who, Booya?
PYTHON: Both of them, actually. They’re completely off their game tonight. They’re about to walk right into something. Watch this.
[Python points toward the ring. A few seconds later, JD Hart flies out of the ring with a suicide dive and takes out Booya just as Sean Peters assaults Cole Christenson with a flying axehandle. Erica looks impressed.]
ERICA: Wow. How did you know?
PYTHON: Elementary, my dear Erica. It just happens when you do this for long enough. Predicting your opponent’s next move becomes something like common sense. But when you’re not focused, you just can’t do it and you get hit with so many things that you should have been able to avoid. It’s common sense not to leave yourself open like that and I’m sure they’ll do it a dozen more times before the match is over.
ERICA: That’s so cool.
PYTHON: I guess.
[Hunched forward in his seat, he is now fully immersed in the match. Unbeknownst to Python, the fans behind him are still in a silent frenzy over his presence, frantically taking cell-phone pictures and dialing their friends. Desperate to keep the conversation going, Erica nervously presses on.]
ERICA: So, who do you want to win?
PYTHON: Hm?
[He looks at her for a second, surprised, before turning back to the ring.]
PYTHON: Wow. I don’t even know. It’s been so long since I’ve really rooted for anyone in a match unless they’re a friend of mine or the outcome affects me somehow. That sounds so cold when I say it out loud…
ERICA: No, I don’t think it’s cold. I can’t imagine how you could possibly keep up with all these matches.
PYTHON: Well, you keep up with them, don’t you?
ERICA: Yea, but I’m a fan.
[Her response strikes him dumb for a second.]
PYTHON: I… yea. Good point.
ERICA: What’s wrong?
PYTHON: Nothing. I guess I’ve really always sorta thought of myself as a fan who’s getting this amazing opportunity to wrestle rather than strictly as a “wrestler”, you know? I guess it’s just because that’s the way I was raised… going to shows and getting to spar with my dad and his friends at home. But things are different, now.
ERICA: Well, sure. You’re the World Champion now! You’re about as much of a wrestler as anyone can possibly be.
[Python nods, unsure of what exactly had started this conversation in the first place.]
ERICA: You never answered my question, though. Who do you want to win?
[Oh yea.]
PYTHON: I’m actually not really fond of anyone in that ring right now except for Christenson. As people, I mean. They’re all super talented, and I’d like to throw my support behind The Truly Untouchables simply for the sake of OLW loyalty… I don’t think I’ll ever shake that habit. It’s like everyone on Old Line’s roster is now a family split up into other feds. I hated ‘em in Baltimore, but I’d like to see them keep their titles.
[The crowd pops as Christenson no-sells a brief assault from Hart before blasting him across the ring with a roundhouse kick. Python sighs as Christenson pauses to raise an arm and nod to the fans.]
PYTHON: They won’t, though.
[She smiles, studying him.]
ERICA: You know… for a celebrity, you’re really easy to talk to.
[This gets a laugh from Python.]
PYTHON: A celebrity?
ERICA: Yea, champ. Do you know how many fans you actually have?
PYTHON: Well, I think I can ask the company how many people have bought my t-shirt off the website, if that counts…
ERICA: No! That doesn’t count at all. You’re a star, dude. I wish you could hear some of the things people say about you. Try going on a wrestling forum sometime. I think you’d be really surprised.
PYTHON: Maybe I will.
ERICA: Actually, you should go to fourcorners.org. It’s a nice little community, I’m on there a lot.
PYTHON: Ok. I’ll check it out sometime.
ERICA: Really?
PYTHON: Sure.
[She makes a strange, high-pitched noise. Excitement, presumably.]
ERICA: They’re going to love me forever.
PYTHON: Heh.
ERICA: Ya know, there’s this rumor going around on our forums that I just have to ask you about. Sorry if it’s a sensitive matter, but… oh my God, I can’t believe I’m about to bring this up to you… are you secretly dating Gemma Lockheart?
[He slaps a hand to his face and takes a deep breath, using all of the self-control he possesses in an attempt to keep his next words from sounding angry.]
PYTHON: Noooo. No no no no no. I will be happy to personally log onto your boards and clear up that confusion.
ERICA: Ah.
[A few moments of silence pass as the action in the ring grows intense. Christenson is completely cleaning house in the ring and Booya has just begun stomping the apron, riling up the fans. The noise is becoming deafening. Python sighs as he watches the two teams battle. Noticing this, Erica nearly has to shout to make herself heard over the clapping and shouting.]
ERICA: What’s a’ matter!?
PYTHON: Nothing.
ERICA: What?
PYTHON: Nothing!
[The structure-less noise from the fans suddenly reshapes itself into synchronized clapping. That is infinitely easier to talk over.]
PYTHON: I’m just pissed that I lost that match.
ERICA: Well, ya can’t win ‘em all.
PYTHON: No, of course not. I just get really annoyed when I lose matches that I shouldn’t have lost.
ERICA: Oh yea, cause of the crazy guy.
PYTHON: Cobra.
ERICA: Huh?
PYTHON: He calls himself Cobra. He’s this screwball from HRW who’s been on some kind of weird religious trip as of late.
ERICA: Why’s he after you?
PYTHON: Don’t know. Not sure if I even care. I already have a fairly large list of people to get back to who have recently randomly attacked me in the hopes that it might bring them a bit of attention. I’ve got to admit, though… this one was super creative.
ERICA: Well, why haven’t you gone after all those people if they attacked you?
PYTHON: Because that would be giving them exactly what they want. Attention. Most of them don’t deserve it.
ERICA: Does Cobra deserve it?
PYTHON: No. But… I’m not really ok with people who actually put my life in danger. So I think I’m probably going to have to do something about this. Plus, I’m really annoyed that he cost me the match. He really couldn’t have waited like three more minutes to come out and be crazy? Uh oh, ref bump.
[Christenson accidentally squishes the ref against the turnbuckle. The poor guy goes down.]
ERICA: Ehh, what difference does it make if you lost a Jr. Heavyweight Title tournament match? You’re the alliance-wide World Champion!
PYTHON: It’s not just that. Well, that does suck, of course. But what sucks even more is that there’s now one more guy out there who gets to march around waving his wiener around in the air and telling anyone who’ll listen that he beat me and therefore he deserves something.
ERICA: Even though you only lost because of Cobra?
PYTHON: Oh yes. I know Bryan Smith’s type. Next chance he gets, he’s going to publically proclaim himself the “number one contender” for the World Title because he pinned me, regardless of whether or not he should have. And he’ll be a spineless shit for it. Hey, maybe I should hook him up with Christopher Barton sometime! Now there’s a guy who never got tired of playing that card. Oof!
[Python leans forward in his seat as Hart annihilates Booya with a chair shot to the face. Boo’s fill the arena as the inevitable three-count happens a few moments later followed by the bell and the announcement that the titles had changed hands.]
PYTHON: Bummer.
ERICA: Indeed.
[The Sex Symbols’ celebration is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Chris Butler and Daniel Corey at the top of the entrance aisle.]
PYTHON: Oh lord… Team ELITE. I think that’s my cue to beat it.
ERICA: Aw, why?
PYTHON: Hey, don’t get me wrong. I had a blast with ya and I think I’m going to try watching the show from the seats more often because it’s neat to be reminded of that perspective every now and then… but I’m exhausted and frustrated at the moment and these guys are real snoozers to watch. No offense if you like them.
ERICA: Not at all.
PYTHON: Thatta girl.
[Python gets up from his seat as Corey begins to talk. He quickly shakes Erica’s hand once more before starting in the direction of the EXIT sign, way more refreshed than he was earlier.]
PYTHON: Take care! It was nice to meet you.
ERICA: Yea, you too.
…
ERICA: Hey, Matt?
[He stops and looks back over his shoulder.]
PYTHON: Yea?
ERICA: I think you should take care of that guy. Cobra. Don’t think of it as giving in to him… maybe it’ll shut everyone up who might consider pulling the same stunt in the future.
PYTHON: Yea. Yea, I think I’ll do that.
[He nods one last time and winks before backing up through the door and disappearing into the arena hallway.]
Name: Greg
Email Address: gscale88@comcast.net
Preferred Method of Handling: Don't Care
Best Way to Contact You: Forum PM
eWrestling Experience: OLW, Defiance, WfWA, MSWA, TIW, CSWA
How did you find Defiance? Jeff pointed me back in the right direction
Wrestler(s) Information
Ring Name: Python
Height: 5'10
Weight: 178 lbs
Hailing From: Newark, NJ
Alignment: Face
Gimmick: Young mega face. An innovative risk taker in the ring. One of a kind in terms of wrestling style and moveset. Modest, genuine, passionate kid with balls and the skills to back them up.
Wrestling Style: Python is an incredibly daring and creative wrestler. A high flyer with solid training in grappling and mat wrestling to fall back on, he is often seen stringing moves together to create new ones or putting his own twists on classic moves to catch his opponent off guard. He’s always looking to show the crowd something they’ve never seen before. Python’s main offensive strategy revolves strongly around high risk and speed-based attacks. As a result, many of his matches quickly turn into spot-fests. If he sees a chance to flip or fly he's all over it if it means gaining an advantage. If he has to put his body on the line, then so be it. Because of his young age and average size, fans find it easy to relate to him. This combined with his “never say die” attitude and the ridiculous things he puts his body through in order to get the win and give the fans a good show makes him a huge fan favorite. Win or lose, Python always gives the crowd their money’s worth.
Three Weaknesses: Small stature, high risk-taker, will always do the right thing before the smart thing
Three Strengths: Agility, inventive style (difficult to predict or prepare against), pound for pound toughness
MOVESET
Ten regular moveset moves:
1) Standing Moonsault
2) Sit Out Jawbreaker
3) Falling Arm Breaker
4) Crucifix Armbar
5) Hurricanrana
6) Flying Wheel Kick
7) Missile Dropkick (sometimes to the knee)
8) Springboard Legdrop
9) Indian Deathlock
10) Enzugiri
2-5 trademark moves:
1) The Constrictor (Python jumps up into a hurricanrana position but rolls forward and pulls opponent down into a modified surfboard hold)
2) Leg sweep quickly followed by standing Shooting Star Press
3) Somersault Roll into Spear Tackle
4) DDT into Arm Triangle Choke
5) Spinning Heel Kick into Headscissors
1 Finishing Move: The Snake Bite (Can only really be classified as a Springboard Corkscrew Tornado Jawbreaker. Python jumps up onto the top rope and hurtles back toward his opponent in a corkscrew. As he twists, he catches his opponent by the head and swings around, slamming his/her jaw down sharply onto his knees at the moment of impact with the floor. Sometimes used to counter an irish whip.)
Writing Sample
------------------------------
12/20/08
8:57 P.M.
Greenwood Park Arena in Toronto, Ontario
------------------------------------
PYTHON: Damnit! Excuse me. Excuse me, I’m sorry…
[The fans in the aisle seats on the floor of Greenwood Park Arena have been whipped into a frenzy, yelling and stretching their fingers out to touch the WWA World Champion as he attempts to push his way through them and reach one of the arena exits. Python has just jumped the ringside barrier and escaped into the crowd, traveling as quickly as possible away from Cobra, The Serpentalists, and the gigantic venomous snake in the center of the ring. He doesn’t look back, but the sound of Cobra preaching and his minions chanting grows softer and softer as he gets further away from the ring. Python straightens up and slows to a quick walk as he realizes he isn’t being followed. At least, not by Cobra. A swarm of security guards have showed up to push the small crowd of fans back into their seats. The guards move to form a small circle around Python, but he waves them off and continues slowly back up the aisle and toward the exit, deftly slapping some hands and smiling for some pictures along the way. Every couple of seconds or so, he looks up toward the EXIT sign over the door at the end of the aisle. It doesn’t seem to be getting any closer as he moves toward it… or maybe he’s not even moving anymore. The adrenaline from the situation he was in a moment ago has vacated his body just as quickly as it came. Python takes one last look back at the ring to make sure he’s safe before collapsing into an empty seat, exhausted. It isn’t exactly ringside, but it’s a floor seat with a great view. Seats in this section probably cost a bundle, but he doesn’t expect any security guards to kick him out any time soon.]
[It takes him a couple of seconds to notice the porky young woman sitting to his right. Her long hair tied back in pigtails, she is wearing a horribly undersized black and white International Influence zip-up hoodie and an excessive amount of eye makeup. And for the icing on the cake, she is blatantly staring at him.]
PYTHON: Um… hi.
[Her lower lip drops a little, but she doesn’t say anything. Python shifts uneasily in his seat and turns his attention toward the ring. Suddenly, he feels the air leave his lungs and he silently travels back to his childhood when he used to watch his father wrestle. He must have gone to at least two hundred shows as a kid. It feels like a completely different lifetime.]
[Taking one last quick look around at the surrounding fans, he settles down in his seat and tries his best to focus on the action in the ring. Cobra and his clan are long gone. The Sex Symbols have just made a fairly unentertaining entrance and The Truly Untouchables’ music now fills the arena to a mixed reception of whistles and jeers. Python mutters under his breath and hunches down a little further in his seat as he watches Cole Christenson and Jonny Booya appear on the entrance ramp. At one point, Christenson’s gaze sweeps over the section that Python is sitting in… the big man’s eyes seem to pass right through him.]
PYTHON: This is so weird…
ERICA: What’s that?
[At last, the portly woman next to him has seemingly found the courage to say something. It’s not much, but it is an entirely appropriate question.]
PYTHON: Oh, nothing. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
[She blushes and nods, making it a point to quickly turn her gaze back to the ring. Afraid he may have sounded irritated, Python clears his throat and turns to the young woman.]
PYTHON: I’m sorry. It’s just, you know. I’m… I usually don’t…
[He trips over his words a little bit as he struggles to explain his situation without making it sound boastful.]
PYTHON: Well, I guess you must have just seen me out there, so you know who I am.
ERICA: Of course I do! I’m a huge fan.
PYTHON: Well thank you, miss.
ERICA: Um… Erica. My name is Erica.
PYTHON: Matt. Pleased to meet you, Erica.
[He offers her a hand. Smiling from ear to ear, she takes it with both hands and shakes it enthusiastically.]
ERICA: I never knew your name was Matt. Well, I mean… not before a minute ago when that crazy guy was calling you Matt.
PYTHON: Oh, yes. That crazy guy. One of many in the long list of crazy guys I’ll be dealing with for the rest of my life in this industry.
[A collective din goes up from a small group of fans near the aisle where Jonny Booya has just taken a swing at a fan. Python shakes his head.]
PYTHON: Idiot.
ERICA: Who, Booya?
PYTHON: Both of them, actually. They’re completely off their game tonight. They’re about to walk right into something. Watch this.
[Python points toward the ring. A few seconds later, JD Hart flies out of the ring with a suicide dive and takes out Booya just as Sean Peters assaults Cole Christenson with a flying axehandle. Erica looks impressed.]
ERICA: Wow. How did you know?
PYTHON: Elementary, my dear Erica. It just happens when you do this for long enough. Predicting your opponent’s next move becomes something like common sense. But when you’re not focused, you just can’t do it and you get hit with so many things that you should have been able to avoid. It’s common sense not to leave yourself open like that and I’m sure they’ll do it a dozen more times before the match is over.
ERICA: That’s so cool.
PYTHON: I guess.
[Hunched forward in his seat, he is now fully immersed in the match. Unbeknownst to Python, the fans behind him are still in a silent frenzy over his presence, frantically taking cell-phone pictures and dialing their friends. Desperate to keep the conversation going, Erica nervously presses on.]
ERICA: So, who do you want to win?
PYTHON: Hm?
[He looks at her for a second, surprised, before turning back to the ring.]
PYTHON: Wow. I don’t even know. It’s been so long since I’ve really rooted for anyone in a match unless they’re a friend of mine or the outcome affects me somehow. That sounds so cold when I say it out loud…
ERICA: No, I don’t think it’s cold. I can’t imagine how you could possibly keep up with all these matches.
PYTHON: Well, you keep up with them, don’t you?
ERICA: Yea, but I’m a fan.
[Her response strikes him dumb for a second.]
PYTHON: I… yea. Good point.
ERICA: What’s wrong?
PYTHON: Nothing. I guess I’ve really always sorta thought of myself as a fan who’s getting this amazing opportunity to wrestle rather than strictly as a “wrestler”, you know? I guess it’s just because that’s the way I was raised… going to shows and getting to spar with my dad and his friends at home. But things are different, now.
ERICA: Well, sure. You’re the World Champion now! You’re about as much of a wrestler as anyone can possibly be.
[Python nods, unsure of what exactly had started this conversation in the first place.]
ERICA: You never answered my question, though. Who do you want to win?
[Oh yea.]
PYTHON: I’m actually not really fond of anyone in that ring right now except for Christenson. As people, I mean. They’re all super talented, and I’d like to throw my support behind The Truly Untouchables simply for the sake of OLW loyalty… I don’t think I’ll ever shake that habit. It’s like everyone on Old Line’s roster is now a family split up into other feds. I hated ‘em in Baltimore, but I’d like to see them keep their titles.
[The crowd pops as Christenson no-sells a brief assault from Hart before blasting him across the ring with a roundhouse kick. Python sighs as Christenson pauses to raise an arm and nod to the fans.]
PYTHON: They won’t, though.
[She smiles, studying him.]
ERICA: You know… for a celebrity, you’re really easy to talk to.
[This gets a laugh from Python.]
PYTHON: A celebrity?
ERICA: Yea, champ. Do you know how many fans you actually have?
PYTHON: Well, I think I can ask the company how many people have bought my t-shirt off the website, if that counts…
ERICA: No! That doesn’t count at all. You’re a star, dude. I wish you could hear some of the things people say about you. Try going on a wrestling forum sometime. I think you’d be really surprised.
PYTHON: Maybe I will.
ERICA: Actually, you should go to fourcorners.org. It’s a nice little community, I’m on there a lot.
PYTHON: Ok. I’ll check it out sometime.
ERICA: Really?
PYTHON: Sure.
[She makes a strange, high-pitched noise. Excitement, presumably.]
ERICA: They’re going to love me forever.
PYTHON: Heh.
ERICA: Ya know, there’s this rumor going around on our forums that I just have to ask you about. Sorry if it’s a sensitive matter, but… oh my God, I can’t believe I’m about to bring this up to you… are you secretly dating Gemma Lockheart?
[He slaps a hand to his face and takes a deep breath, using all of the self-control he possesses in an attempt to keep his next words from sounding angry.]
PYTHON: Noooo. No no no no no. I will be happy to personally log onto your boards and clear up that confusion.
ERICA: Ah.
[A few moments of silence pass as the action in the ring grows intense. Christenson is completely cleaning house in the ring and Booya has just begun stomping the apron, riling up the fans. The noise is becoming deafening. Python sighs as he watches the two teams battle. Noticing this, Erica nearly has to shout to make herself heard over the clapping and shouting.]
ERICA: What’s a’ matter!?
PYTHON: Nothing.
ERICA: What?
PYTHON: Nothing!
[The structure-less noise from the fans suddenly reshapes itself into synchronized clapping. That is infinitely easier to talk over.]
PYTHON: I’m just pissed that I lost that match.
ERICA: Well, ya can’t win ‘em all.
PYTHON: No, of course not. I just get really annoyed when I lose matches that I shouldn’t have lost.
ERICA: Oh yea, cause of the crazy guy.
PYTHON: Cobra.
ERICA: Huh?
PYTHON: He calls himself Cobra. He’s this screwball from HRW who’s been on some kind of weird religious trip as of late.
ERICA: Why’s he after you?
PYTHON: Don’t know. Not sure if I even care. I already have a fairly large list of people to get back to who have recently randomly attacked me in the hopes that it might bring them a bit of attention. I’ve got to admit, though… this one was super creative.
ERICA: Well, why haven’t you gone after all those people if they attacked you?
PYTHON: Because that would be giving them exactly what they want. Attention. Most of them don’t deserve it.
ERICA: Does Cobra deserve it?
PYTHON: No. But… I’m not really ok with people who actually put my life in danger. So I think I’m probably going to have to do something about this. Plus, I’m really annoyed that he cost me the match. He really couldn’t have waited like three more minutes to come out and be crazy? Uh oh, ref bump.
[Christenson accidentally squishes the ref against the turnbuckle. The poor guy goes down.]
ERICA: Ehh, what difference does it make if you lost a Jr. Heavyweight Title tournament match? You’re the alliance-wide World Champion!
PYTHON: It’s not just that. Well, that does suck, of course. But what sucks even more is that there’s now one more guy out there who gets to march around waving his wiener around in the air and telling anyone who’ll listen that he beat me and therefore he deserves something.
ERICA: Even though you only lost because of Cobra?
PYTHON: Oh yes. I know Bryan Smith’s type. Next chance he gets, he’s going to publically proclaim himself the “number one contender” for the World Title because he pinned me, regardless of whether or not he should have. And he’ll be a spineless shit for it. Hey, maybe I should hook him up with Christopher Barton sometime! Now there’s a guy who never got tired of playing that card. Oof!
[Python leans forward in his seat as Hart annihilates Booya with a chair shot to the face. Boo’s fill the arena as the inevitable three-count happens a few moments later followed by the bell and the announcement that the titles had changed hands.]
PYTHON: Bummer.
ERICA: Indeed.
[The Sex Symbols’ celebration is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Chris Butler and Daniel Corey at the top of the entrance aisle.]
PYTHON: Oh lord… Team ELITE. I think that’s my cue to beat it.
ERICA: Aw, why?
PYTHON: Hey, don’t get me wrong. I had a blast with ya and I think I’m going to try watching the show from the seats more often because it’s neat to be reminded of that perspective every now and then… but I’m exhausted and frustrated at the moment and these guys are real snoozers to watch. No offense if you like them.
ERICA: Not at all.
PYTHON: Thatta girl.
[Python gets up from his seat as Corey begins to talk. He quickly shakes Erica’s hand once more before starting in the direction of the EXIT sign, way more refreshed than he was earlier.]
PYTHON: Take care! It was nice to meet you.
ERICA: Yea, you too.
…
ERICA: Hey, Matt?
[He stops and looks back over his shoulder.]
PYTHON: Yea?
ERICA: I think you should take care of that guy. Cobra. Don’t think of it as giving in to him… maybe it’ll shut everyone up who might consider pulling the same stunt in the future.
PYTHON: Yea. Yea, I think I’ll do that.
[He nods one last time and winks before backing up through the door and disappearing into the arena hallway.]
