[SSVI] Lethal Lottery Championship Gauntlet

[TH]

"Hot Stuff" Adam Cash and The Sergeant vs. "The Ego Buster" Dan Ryan and Troy Douglas vs. "The Muffin Man" Kin Hiroshi and Harley Ace Douglas vs. Matthew Kurtis and Mystery Partner vs. "The Crippler" Cameron Cruise and "The Icebreaker" Rob Franklin vs. Otaku and "Extremely Bisexual" Beau Michaels

With that cast of characters... may the Lord have mercy on our souls.

Venue is Pepsi Center, Denver, CO. No time limit, one fall to a finish for each portion of the gauntlet. When one team gets eliminated another team comes right out until five of the six teams have been ousted. Single elimination rules apply. All other regular rules apply. RP deadline is Sunday, July 29th, 11:59:59 PM, give or take a second.

 

[Linguistic]

The Sergeant Returns: The Narrative

The Sergeant Returns: The Narrative

His grandfather had always told him that once he joined the Army he would forever be a soldier, but The Sergeant had always believed that statement to be some kind of old man's metaphor. The past five months had taught him otherwise. After all he had recently been through, here he was just trying to put all of the pieces together and continue with his life.

That meant wrestling once again, but it also meant taking a few more precautions with his personal life. He needed to be more secretive than he had been in his rookie year in order to make sure his family was never harmed again. His carelessness had almost cost him dearly.

The month of July was his time to try and put all of that behind him. He started wrestling-specific training again. He started making a few phone calls. Hell, he had even took some of the money that was left over in his savings account and purchased a wrestling organization. All of this was to take his mind off of things in the past and focus him on the future.

One of those phone calls paid off. TEAM said that they needed a solid competitor for their "Lethal Lottery" event. Sarge jumped at the chance and signed his name to a TEAM contract. It didn't pay much and the match wasn't really his style because of the tag team pairings, but he was eager to get out there and start mixing it up again. This would get his foot back in the door.

When Sarge first signed up there were only a few people who had put their names down, but one name stood out more than any other:

Dan Ryan.

He was pleased that his old boss would be there. The Empire Pro owner had given Sarge his big break in the wrestling business, but had been rewarded with Sarge's early departure shortly after his rookie year ended. Ryan hadn't returned any of his phone calls about returning to an EPW ring. Hopefully, Sarge could prove to him that he was back to stay.

There was another person that Sarge hoped hadn't forgotten about him over the duration of his absence. She would likely be at the TEAM Supershow, as well.

Erin Flanagan.

He hadn't been able to muster the strength to call her since his return. The last time that he had spoken to her was just before his last match in EPW, where Blitz avenged an earlier loss to he and James Irish, Erin's client. What could he say to her that could possibly sort out all of his emotions and make things better?

He needed to focus. Dan Ryan and Erin Flanagan could not be his main reasons for being in that match. Remember Hoyt Williams? Remember being embarrassingly dispatched in yet another first round at TEAM's second Invitational Tournament?

He told himself that even though his mind was elsewhere in that match, he needed to set the record straight and make a strong showing at Lethal Lottery. It was time to prove that he's not "all potential - no achievement". He needed to get his game face on and show the world that he truly was "combat tested, mother approved".

First things first, though. He needed to find out who his partner would be. Maybe it would be Dan Ryan? Sarge had also heard that Kin Hiroshi would be participating, and they had some history tagging together in the old UCW. Maybe Lethal Lottery wouldn't be a very bad experience at all.

Then it happened. Sarge stood outside of a door at TEAM Studios and read the list with all of the Lethal Lottery pairings on a small video monitor.

"Hot Stuff" Adam Cash.

The PARIS HILTON of professional wrestling?

DAMN!

He looked into the sky with a half-smile, as if acknowledging some joke that God Himself was playing on the combat veteran. After a brief moment of amusement, Sarge shook his head and and looked up at the door. It read: Official TEAM Promo Booth.

Now it was time to tackle the other reason why he was here... his first promo in over six months.

*END*

 

[DizzaHizza]

** It's been a long couple weeks. Globetrotting had been taking its toll on the Muffin Man, but that didn't stop him from taking his seat on another airplane. With NFW transitioning to its new format, and on a current break while all the new talent got acclimated to the company, Hiroshi knew he needed to do something to keep his body and mind sharper than ever. Hell, with the NFW World Championship around his waist, he knew that ever Tom, Dick and Harry would be trying to hit the target on his chest dead-center.

So when Hiroshi got a phone call from Tom Holzerman about the next TEAM event, Hiroshi signed the papers. In fact, with a Lethal Lottery style match, Kin knew that the stress wouldn't be as bad as wrestling one-on-one; having a tag-team partner sure helped relieve some stress. Immediately, Kin started scanning the dirt sheets and newspapers to see who would be participating in the Lethal Lottery, and every day he became more and more impressed: a returning Sergeant, the ever present and dangerous Dan Ryan, current TEAM Free-For-All Champion Harley Ace Douglas, Hiroshi's old friend Cameron Cruise, Cam's stalker Beau Michaels, a man Kin had known for years Troy Douglas, as well as Rob Franklin, and new comers Kurtis, Otaku, Cash and a mystery man.

Of course, all the while Kin was reading, he kept tabs on who would make the best partner. Dan Ryan was the first in his head. Hiroshi and Ryan had a long history at opposite sides of the ring, and knew each other pretty well, what with Ryan signing Kin to an EPW contract years ago. Douglas was another worker that Kin had his eye on; knowing that Douglas would just as soon kick all the ass in the ring before he needed to tag. Cameron Cruise was a man that Kin had teamed with before, and won a few matches. In fact, almost every name on the list, Kin knew he'd have no problem finding success with.

So, when the names were pulled from the hat, and Harley Douglas' name was pulled after Hiroshi's, Kin had a smirk on his face that lasted through the day.

Hours later: fade in on Hiroshi sitting in front of a TEAM banner. The NFW World Championship resting on his shoulder. **

KIN HIROSHI: "Hello, once again, TEAM. As always, the Muffin Man is one of the first horses out of the gate, and, this time, I'm not full of s**t when I tell everyone watching, everyone listening, and everyone involved in the Lethal Lottery match, that you're all in for hell at Ess-Ess Six.

"See, not only am I coming into this match on level ground with the rest of the competition, but even if I lose I still get to cash in on my Champion of Champions shot in the near future. It's a no lose situation for me, and it also gives my body a chance to recoup a bit. As we all know, tag teams are a bit less stressful on the body because you get a time-out every few minutes. Sure, your mind needs to be crisp to make sure you don't screw over your tag-team partner, but I don't see that being an issue between me and my esteemed partner.

"Harley Ace Douglas. A man who really doesn't need an introduction in TEAM, as he's the defending Free-For-All champion. A man who I feel privileged to have in my corner going into the Lethal Lottery, even if he does have his own title to defend on the same night. Douglas, you come into this match, and you give it what you got to give, and if you can't handle any more, than just tag in the ole' Japanese Thunder and watch lightning strike.

"Now, we might be a powerhouse team, and, looking at these other teams, we should just be given a check in the win column right now. I mean, hell, who do we have?

"Hot Stuff" Adam Cash and The Sergeant? The self-proclaimed 'Paris Hilton' of wrestling and a man who may not even remember what a sleeper hold is anymore. Sergeant, I really don't have any beef with ya', and I know that we teamed up before, but you better shake that ring rust off otherwise the crowd might be asking for a sleeper hold to escape from watching you wrestle. And Cash? Well, we have yet to see who's going to be the bigger diva: you or Beau Michaels? My money is on Beau in that match.

"Speaking of Beau, he gets to team up with a virtual unknown: Otaku. Listen, I know Beau has a fetish for small men, I mean, look at Cameron, so I hope Otaku watches his corn hole and makes 'appropriate' tags to Beau. Of course, it has yet to be seen if Beau will be able to wrestle now that his latest fetish, Joey Melton, is holding a major title in

"And with virtual unknowns, we have Matthew Kurtis and his 'mystery partner'. Well, good luck to both of you because with half the names in this lottery, you two are going to need a lot of help, assuming your partner, Kurtis, isn't God. Which I doubt, because I'm already teaming with Harley.

"My transitions right now are fantastic, because with big names we have Dan Ryan and Troy Douglas teaming together. I don't know if these two will be able to stand each other long enough to wrestle, or if they'll just break down and fight amongst themselves. Either way, the fans win. Both are epic names around these here parts, but it has yet to be seen if two egos their size will be able to coexist in the same corner.

"Finally we have Cameron Cruise and Rob Franklin. Well, I know 'em both, and while both can put on a great show, I'll be interested to see if Cameron knows how to tag with someone besides Melton or myself. Though, I doubt either one of them will be ready if they step into the ring with me and H-deezy. Yeah, I the viewing audience didn't know I was black, huh? Well, I'm not. I just needed to call Harley something other than 'Harley' or 'Douglas'. It can get confusing with so many Douglas' running around. I'm sure Cruise knows the feeling.

"So, there's the line up, and it's a good one. I'm ready. Harley is ready. Are all of you ready?"

 

[TSiegel]

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Cats and Dogs, Narcissists and Psychos."

(Fadein, Cameron Cruise in a old one-room School, in front of a blank chalkboard.)

CRUISE: The word of the day:

(Cruise spin the chalkboard 180 degrees on it's rollers to reveal in standard cursive, Eclectic.)

Eclectic.

That's what seems to be going on lately around here, and it doesn't stop here.

Lethal Lottery where your worst enemy is now a dependant if you wanna win this match, especially since it's Gauntlet.

Six teams have been formed, some natural, some that could make even Mike Randalls raise an eyebrow.

And the man standing before you is one half of one of 'em.

The others??

Not exactly pushovers.

The Sergeant returns to action along with "Hot Stuff" Adam Cash.

Sarge, we've been on the same side as well the opposite, so I know I don't have to really say much about what I expect. Ring rust is a standard expectation by everyone it seems: Just not from me. Your partner evidently calls her--pardon me--HIMself "The Paris Hilton of Wrestling"...so does that mean that he's going to be exponentially late to the arena and more worried about his outfit than his opponents?? I just hope that if you have to share a lockerroom, for your sake we don't have a momentary blackout. Good Luck.

Kin says that Beau has a fetish for small men, some how even implying that I'm involved in that category.

For someone that really pretty much owes half his career to me...Kin, do me a favor and ask yourself this question:

Since when is six feet and four inches tall...considered "Small"?

Hm?

(Cruise waves it off, continuing...)

Beau Michaels and....Oh-tak-hoo...mm'kay...anything with that kinda pronounciation along with you is enough to make a small hippo...pun intended...lose about half it's guts. Usually when someone finds something new to target...they stick to it.

Again...no pun intended.

But yet, here we are again. At one point this may be irritating to me...but now...I dunno.

Perhaps if my partner brought along a standard 5 x 10 of Joey Melton posing with the EPW title and Adrien Evens...this might bring this abit easier along this time.

But unlike my course, Blue-Berry Bomber friend...I'm not really one to hold my breath.

You've won the NFW World Title though Kin, and though I've done it before, Congratulations is in order...this is indeed one thing I've not been able to do. But the last name Douglas this time does bring an asterisk to my focal point of this match; "Hot Stuff" Aaron Douglas was the man that was so responsible in getting me the defeat so I would lose a CSWA Presidential Title that should very well still be around my waist to this day.

Please forgive me Kin, for I'm digressing into a history lesson not really needed for this topic.

(Cruise smacks a Teacher's podium afew times as if to regain attention.)

But it does bring me to this one: Troy Douglas and Dan Ryan.

Dan needs really no talking to. In the ring he knows I respect him, and I'm not just saying that before he still signs the checks that my wife cashes. But it's not something I'm intent on dwelling on. TROY Douglas, however...does intrigue me.

Been along time hasn't it Troy??

Certain things have changed since then, but in certain instances...not. I've every intention of having history repeat itself this time Troy, whether or not you've got a Ryan in your corner. That's with my hand raised and you looking up at lights. Just do myself a favor an don't sue Ryan again if you lose. It's not exactly the same trick that you failed to perform the first time.

One thing that Kin is right about, belongs to the team of Matthew Kurtis and someone that perhaps even he's never heard of or seen on television in his life himself. Fact is...I really dunno if you're more of an upstart like Sarge's partner or a Jewish Rabbi, it makes none the difference to me.

But you've got probably the worst luck drawing against the rest of the field, so I'm sure you won't mind that I suggest Gamblers' alike to put money on everyone else but your team. Just a logical part playing, that's all.

(Cruise zips up the last zipper of a bag and slings it over his shoulder, the scene cutting to Cruise walking outside the building to his car, a Chevelle Classic.)

Which brings me full circle, to you, Rob Franklin.

Aka, supposedly "The Ice-Breaker".

I'll tell ya what, I'll make you a deal:

I've taken Joey...regardless of whatever he tells you...I've taken Joey Melton to two separate titles that includes the one in the backseat of the Chevelle, here.

(Points to the EPW Tag Team Championship)

I've even helped Kin to a Television Championship reign; his first EVER title on the circuit...to a few wins as his partner.

(Opens the door, slings his bag in the backseat, getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door.)

You do your best to keep up your end in the Lethal Lottery Championship Gauntlet...

(Cruise turns the ignition and revs up the engine abit, shifting the car into first gear and backing out into position.)

I'll do my best to make sure you get the same feeling that Kin did with me afew times, and at least one step closer to knowing what it might be feel like to be a Champion with half of what the Wrestling World arguably proclaims...The BEST TAG TEAM EVER.

Then and only then...will we leave the competition....

(Spins the tires abit, then burns rubber....)

We'll...you know...

(Cruise lets loose and the Chevelle speeds off.)

(Fadeout.)

 

[robishott]

You know, I've always thought it was unfair that you got to do all the good events.

Rob Franklin turned to meet his massive ally, suggested pervert, the man known as Pieske. Pieske had lately been longing to get in the ring, but every time he had asked, or suggested, he was shot down. They were in their car, again, Rob was driving, there was no music, and Rob fell into what can only be described as a trance, looking straight ahead at the road, the cars in front of him. It looked like Pieske had gone to the official redneck store, as he was wearing a t-shirt with a tuxedo painted on it. Rob, on the other hand, was wearing a nice silk shirt.

Pieske: So...what the hell are we doing again?

I told you already Pieske. We're going to the Hilton Hotel for the TEAM selection announcement for Lethal Lottery.

Pieske: Is it real exclusive?

Seemingly ignoring the last question, Rob took out his iPhone, and looked at the glass screen.

We're already late.

Pieske: Where's Jacob?

Jacob is already there. As part of the new "Stay the hell away from each other" program, I couldn't allow for you two to be in the same car.

Jacob Franklin was Rob Franklin's brother. While Pieske and Jacob fought most of the time, there was always a sense that it was them against Rob, as they were both treated badly by him. Pieske gave a frown, and moved on.

Pieske: So....who do you think your partner is for this whole TEAM dealio?

Well, I'm hoping it's not someone who's going to get in my way. that's the last thing I need right now Pieske.

Pieske: Why?

Rob took a deep breath.

Pieske, in case you haven't noticed, my record in TEAM isn't exactly great.

Pieske had noticed. How was not to have noticed? Rob Franklin had never won a TEAM match.

Anyway, we're here.

The car came to a rolling stop, before Rob put it in the valet lane, and hopped out. Pieske, didn't exactly "hop" out of the car, but he did get out rather quickly, obviously feeling just as nervous as Rob was. Rob turned to the Valet Parker.

Listen, you put a single scratch on this god damn car, I'll kill you. Understand?

With all the speculation lately, about wrestlers being on steroids, and killing people, the valet looked like he had just been handed the keys to an atomic bomb.

Yeah, you understand. now listen Pieske, I-

Pieske was, however, nowhere to be found. However, within mere seconds, he appeared, trapped in the revolving door.

Pieske: It-won't-budge.

Pieske had in fact been pushing the one-way door the wrong way. Rob chuckled in spite of himself, and shoved Pieske's massive carcass through the door. Inside, they stepped into a grand ballroom. There was a huge TV in the middle, surrounded by a mass of folding chairs, and there was a buffet line that stretched along the entire side wall. Pieske seemed to be drawn to said buffet like a fly to one of those light thingys, and he quickly made his way into the long line. Rob Franklin was not alone for long, as he was joined by his brother, Jacob Franklin. Jacob, while taller than Rob, was a lot more wiry and was wearing a "Rob Franklin" black T shirt.

Wow Jake, good thing my shirt is good enough for the both of us.

Jacob: If i'm not mistaken, you said "casual" on the phone.

Rob gave him a sly look before pointing at his silk shirt.

This IS casual.

Jacob stifled a laugh, but gave another stern look.

Jacob: Well....shall we get seated?

Well, I was waiting for Pieske...

Jacob: Where is he?

At the buffet table.

Jacob: Oh jesus. That could be hours. Why don't we just save him a seat?

Yeah, yeah okay.

The pair walked into the crowd of folding chairs, and got a seat in the very front, Rob putting his hand on the seat saved for Pieske. the lights start to dim, and Pieske shuffles his way over the the Franklins, with what looks to be the entire buffet on his plate. Jacob give a little chuckle. The video starts to play on the big screen, a press conference seems to be being joined in the middle.

...Matthew Kurtis will be teaming with an unconfirmed mystery partner, and Rob Franklin...

Pieske slaps Rob's knee and points to the screen.

..."the Crippler" Cameron Cruise.

The crowd erupts at these words, clapping and some even standing up. However, not even the slightest smile crosses Rob Franklin's face. the crowd quickly disperses, and gets to whatever they were doing previously. Pieske stays, eating the immense pile of food he has accumulated, Rob stays, gathering his thoughts, and Jacob stays simply because he has no where else to go.

Well, let's go then.

Jacob: What? Go? Now? this whole thing, this whole party is for you! We can't just leave now!

I think I'll be the judge of what the hell I can and cannot do thank you very much.

Still stone-faced, Rob picks himself up, and walks out the revolving doors, followed by the rest of TEAM FRANKLIN.Rob silently waits for the valet to bring him his car, and hops into the driver's seat.

Pieske: Thanks a lot jackass. I wanted to try the pudding.

No one else talks in the car as Rob drives. Suddenly, Rob's cellphone rings, and begrudgingly, he answers.

Hello? ...yes. ...hang on, I'll put you on speaker. I can barely hear you.

Rob presses a button, and the voice on the other end is heard clearly.

Voice: ...Cruise's promo. Have you seen it yet?

...No. He got one out already?

Voice: Well, the announcements went out a couple of days ago...

Well, I wanted to make a party out of it. Can't have a party on a Wednesday, can you?

Voice: Well, you could have at least seen who your partner was.

If I cared, I would have seen it.

Voice: ...Well...Regardless, I'm emailing it as an attachment to your iPhone.

Oh, okay. That reminds me. Call Apple, and tell them that this thing sucks.

Voice: I told you that before you bought it sir.

Okay, well....send me what Cruise said....

Voice: What about the others?

Oh god. Others have talked about it?

Voice: Yeah, Cruise, Hiroshi and The Sergeant.

Hiroshi and the Sergeant? No, no. I can't waste my whole night on crap. No, just send me what my beloved tag team partner said about me...

A BEEP is heard, and Rob abruptly ends his conversation, and suddenly, we hear the beginning of Cameron Cruise's latest TV appearance.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN-

That's a bit loud huh?

Time elapses, and after the promo ends, the three are silent in the car.

What does he mean "Keep up my end?"

Pieske: Sounds like a prick to me.

Yeah, well, some people may even say that I'm a prick, but as we both know, they are mistaken.

Jacob: No, you're a prick all right.

Yeah, and you haven't gotten laid since high school.

Regardless, I've got a halfway decent partner. I've never felt more focused in my life, and I may just FINALLY get a little recognition around here. Yeah, things are looking up for Rob Franklin, but I can't imagine why I feel this dread in my stomach...

Pieske: Oh, that's just gas, I've got it too.
​

FADE TO BLACK

EDIT: Please regard the timestamp on this promo as 7/22/07 @ 12:34 AM. Thanks

 

[jediPREZ]

Words You Throw Away

“Some say when the blue sun will rise over the Sonoran desert, it shall be my ancestor’s tears cascading from the sixth world with an apocalyptic flood to cleanse Mother Earth and the atrocities man has committed against her.”

(FADEIN: ‘The Wolf’ MIKE RANDALLS staring down towards the earth, sitting meditatively near a campfire in the southern regions of the Sonoran Desert. The stars blink and twinkle above as a three-quarters yellow moon is temporarily shadowed by streaming clouds. RANDALLS is shirtless, exposing his many tattoos and scars, while his dusty black cowboy hat shields his face from the camera’s view.)

“Some also say if it talks like a drunk, walks like a duck and wrestles like a f*ck that you’re most likely watching Cameron Cruise making sense of the world around him. IF you listen closely to his tales of twists and turns, you absorb the hidden mantras of love and fate, of hate and greed. . . and you wonder if a man with naïve, complicit and completely self-satisfying desires and dreams would’ve been the wiser to avoid getting into bed with Joey Melton and Beau Michaels metaphorically, figuratively and unfortunately. . .and hopefully only literally from a hypothetically skewed point of view. I don’t doubt that Michael Manson and Beau Michaels’ wet-dreaming eyes know the exact contours of the Cameron’s jagged spine connecting to his cochsis, but in a world of sinners and no saints – I’m not going to judge the man by his innocent cover, not knowing what the pages in between are showing me.”

(RANDALLS’ head rises, his emerald eyes flickering from the flames, his auburn beard is untrimmed and unkempt.)

“Naturally, laughter emanates from those that don’t believe Cameron Cruise has the genetic mark-up to be considered a wise man, but in a sport full of backstabbing tyrants, ruthless businessmen and a mentality that there can only be one on top of that mountain. . . maybe Cameron’s path shouldn’t be questioned nor mocked. Maybe, just maybe you start realizing that the man is employed as a CHAMPION by several federations on this circuit and without Cameron Cruise, you don’t have the straight man to Melton’s comedic cover of an identity assault that could possibly have Tom Cruise ripping off a latex mask, nor Beau Michaels’ homoerotic addictions and frivolities at watching the supposedly psychotic situation of a scorned relationship. Our reality is that Kooter Cruise plushies aren’t sold globally by the millions without Cameron Cruise, Joey Melton has no eyes to pull the wool over without Cameron Cruise. Michael Manson is never given the chance to be crowned a creative backdoor philosopher emeritus.”

(RANDALLS reaches into a nearby satchel and pulls out a plastic bag of ‘tobacco,’ that he pinches with his muddy fingers.)

“Scholars believed the world was flat, I believe that if you stare long enough and you’ll find the center of the universe wherever you want it. Cameron Cruise’s princely, yet sometimes pathetic attempts in this sport will always be weaved into the fabrics of our time, each stitch as important as the ones sewn into my flayed scalp when setting the standard for Wrestling’s Evolution.”

(RANDALLS places the hobbitsweed onto a leaf, then starts rolling it up.)

“Of course, the dichotomy of my reality is that Cruise’s identity is easily seen, but often misunderstood. Myself, much like the Melton family, I am not always what I seem to be, my mind never finds ease in the sinful nature it breathes. Leading to a paradox of this Lethal Lottery, let us ask ourselves about what I see.”

(RANDALLS lights his ‘cigarette,’ a thick, billowing smoke wafts towards his face and out of his flaring nostrils.)

“Matthew Kurtis is researching, while Kin Hiroshi is palely grasping for the straws of needles he’ll need to nullify the pain I can bring to the undead living drugged out sadist sinners of our society.”

(A creepier, evil smile juxtapositions RANDALLS’ eyes and facial features. . .)

“Dan Ryan’s mind realizes the horizon is the body unbroken and unbusted, a mind completely combusted and deconstructed to clutch and claw his massive torso, breaking it across a cursed sin in such a sacrifice that Jesus Christ’s eyes will cry a crimson river.”

(Slowly, RANDALLS’ smile fades and his face seems worn and tired)

“This is the nature of things, the relic that I am and those that look at me like the unknown. To the men TEAM has asked me to compete against, maybe I’m nothing more than simple words and phrases constructed to obstruct them from their goals of three-second glory and gold.”

(RANDALLS slowly inhales, looking deeply into nothingness, before his eyes meet the camera dead-on as it zooms in on his face flickering from the fire.)

“The limits that I bring are a skill the world has never known. To give the fans what they dream, and the nightmares what they’re owed. I am the Wolf, the devil’s dogstar fighting for the Holy Ghosts. I am the eyes in the darkness, the slayer of shadows in the night.”

FADETOBLACK

“You cannot fight what you cannot see. . . and you cannot see the light.”

 

[Linguistic]

The Sergeant Returns: The Promo<O></O>
<O></O>
The Sergeant is in the TEAM promotional booth, picking up about twenty minutes from where we left off in his last segment. His nerves are definitely giving him a little bit of trouble, but he’s ready to get back into the full swing of things. Wearing his usual ring attire plus a plain black t-shirt, Sarge looks into the camera and feels comfortable once again.
<O></O>
The Sergeant: When you look around the room at all of the Lethal Lottery participants, there seems to be a common theme. Everyone seems to be concerned with how Adam Cash and I will operate as a tag team and whether or not there will be any ring rust when I make my return. I hate to disappoint everyone, but the ring rust is nonexistent. The only thing that could possibly drag this team down is if my filthy rich tag team partner decides not to show up. <O></O>
<O></O>
As much as I hate his personality type, there is no denying that by hook or by crook the man knows how to string together wins. He’ll probably come out here and tell you that because I am so dirty he’ll want me to wrestle the entire match and not even touch him in order to tag him into the match. Regardless of what he says, I know that he likes to win… or he wouldn’t be here. That means that he’ll come to fight, be it dirty or clean.<O></O>
<O></O>
I really could care less as to his methods. I care about winning. Although I am not the type to cheat, that doesn’t mean I have a problem in a gauntlet match with my partner doing a little cheating of his own.<O></O>
<O></O>
Short pause.
<O></O>
Sarge: You see, when you’re talking about a dark horse tag team, I don’t think it gets any darker than Sarge/Cash. You’ve got a combat tested and mother approved wrestler coming back after a six-month hiatus, and he’s tagging with the Paris Hilton of professional wrestling. Doesn’t that sound like a team that is destined to fail to you?<O></O>
<O></O>
Normally, tagging Paris Hilton would be something that gives you a big ego boost and plasters you all over the Internet as a selling point to pornographic web sites. Tagging Paris Hilton in this situation isn’t nearly as rewarding, I’ll admit, but it’s something I’ll always be able to use to mislead my buddies when we’re all together trying to “one-up” each other at story-telling time. It’d be an added bonus if tagging with “Hot Stuff” leads to a Lethal Lottery win, too.<O></O>
<O></O>
Big grin from the ever-cheesy Sergeant.
<O></O>
Sarge: Before I came in here to cut this promo I was surprised to hear comments from an old ally of mine. Now I know that I should just chalk Mister Hiroshi’s comments up to him trying to be witty and clever, but I just wanted him to know how appreciated I am for his concern. <O></O>
<O></O>
He focuses more intently on the camera and gives his best look of genuine appreciation.
<O></O>
Sarge: Thank you, Kin. You’ve always been so kind and helpful. I just wanted to let you know that between sitting on my butt doing nothing the past six months and purchasing a wrestling organization I took the time to read a few pages from an old wrestling magazine dated 1985 to make sure that I stayed brushed up on my wrestling holds. <O></O>
<O></O>
A sleeper hold is similar to a fish hook-eye gouge combo, right?<O></O>
<O></O>
Another cheesy grin from Sarge.<O></O>
<O></O>
Sarge: I don’t know about tag team matches being less stressful, especially in a gauntlet match scenario, but I’m sure that when you’ve lucked into one of the best paper tag teams in the Lethal Lottery it can be easy to think that way.<O></O>
<O></O>
Pause.
<O></O>
Sarge: But I’ve started rambling about things that are of no concern. <O></O>
<O></O>
A gauntlet match is the perfect way for me to get back on track with my career. Call it a trial-by-fire.<O></O>
<O></O>
I’m focused on avenging my disappointing loss to Hoyt Williams in January. I’m focused on getting full-time employment as a professional wrestler again. I’m focused on getting my life back together… and I’m focused on winning this Lethal Lottery with or without the held of a certain Mr. “Hot Stuff” Adam Cash.<O></O>
<O></O>
But for now…<O></O>
<O></O>
I’m out!<O></O>
<O></O>
Sarge’s long ramble finally gets his feet wet once again in the world of the professional wrestling promo. As quickly as his nerves disappeared at the beginning of the promo, they have returned again. He thinks about what the audience thought of the promo and wonders whether he came across as a rookie again.
<O></O>
He knows that Erin will eventually view the promo and will know that he’s back… but right now the number one thought on his mind is whether Empire Pro owner Dan Ryan saw it and would be offering him a job.
<O></O>
The cameras have faded to black and the production team gives encouragement by telling Sarge “Welcome back” and “Great job”.
<O></O>
Deep down in Sarge’s subconscious, though, something just doesn’t seem right… and he’s not sure that the feeling has anything to do with wrestling.
<O></O>
*END*

 

[TheOriginalSE]

Make Me Yours

"We're all a little ..."

(QUICKCUT to a scene of Beau Michaels standing in a shower, the light glowing down on his body. He runs his hand through his hair while giving the camera a sultry, seductive look.)

"BiSexual.."

(The camera cuts to a shot from behind, the water running down the contours of Michaels' back. The camera shot slowly begins to back up revealing more and more of Michaels' body. His lower back .. the top of his ass .. and finally, the mini-stream that is running through the ass crack.)

"You just have to give in to those urges that are whispering sweet nothings in the back of your mind."

(The camera cuts to a shot of Michaels' upper thigh. A hand comes in the shot, with a bar of soap. Michaels begins to slowly, painstakingly slow for some who are watching, lather himself.)

"Sometimes.."

(The camera then follows the hand as it travels up the thigh, past the abs, and begins to lather the chest.)

"You need a little help."

(Camera fades back a little as we see Michaels continue to rub his hand back and forth over his chest, all the while, looking right in the camera shot. Michaels' voice over continues..)

"And that.."

(Michaels brings both hands up to his throat, caressing himself. He tosses his head back and slowly stretches.)

"Is where I come in."

(After stretching, Michaels makes an "oops" face as the soap "accidentally" falls from his grasp.)

"And don't worry.."

(Michaels bends over to pick up the soap. As he bends down, his ass goes in the air. Suddenly a "TEAM" logo is placed over his .. hole.)

"I've got the perfect place for you to come in, too."

(Michaels grabs the soap and begins to stand back up, as he does the TEAM logo disappears. Michaels pouts at the camera.)

"I always loved tag teaming."

(Lick of the lips.)

"And being tag teamed."

("O" face.)

"You can bet that I'll be ready for SuperShow VI..."

(Michaels reaches behind him .. after "fishing around" for a little bit .. he takes his hand back in front of the screen .. and is holding... a muffin.)

"Five teams."

(Michaels tosses the muffin away, reaches back .. and fishes around again. This time bringing out .. an ice tray. He looks at it, a little shocked, and then looks up and raises his eyebrows.)

"One.. after the other..."

(Michaels tosses that to the side, grabs the soap, reaches back.. and his arms rub up and down. We hear some commotion.. The camera cuts to a shot from behind, and lying on the ground behind Michaels is: a screwdriver, a pre-packaged sushi meal, a ball and chain, and a chicken.)

"Just the way I like it."

(Frontal shot once more as Michaels swivels his hips and smiles. He quickly winks at the camera as he turns and places one foot on the bench in the shower. He begins to rub the soap all the way down his leg.)

"I'm the only man in this match .. who can take on 11 others at once ... and not end up walking bow-legged..."

(CUTTO: A shot of Michaels walking out of the Milwaukee Brewer's lockerroom, strolling by just fine. CUTTO: Back to Michaels in the shower. He shrugs.)

"But even I have a partner."

(Michaels holds up two fingers together really close. He mouths the words "teeny-weenie.")

"The Sergeant .. talks, and talks and talks."

(Michaels takes a moment to salute the camera, before bringing his fingers from his brow, and placing them on his lips .. slowly sucking them into his mouth.)

"But like all military men.."

(Michaels yanks the fingers from his mouth and feigns boredom.)

"He's a quick shot and done."

(Michaels rolls his eyes.)

"And his partner ..."

(He continues to lather his leg.. the Michaels' voice over seemingly forgetting talking about the partner.)

"Kin Hiroshi is as cute as a button..."

(Michaels nods, focusing on his lathering.)

"What.. you were expecting more?"

(Michaels puts his leg down, places the other one up. And begins to lather that.)

"Rob Franklin."

(Michaels stands straight up.)

"Well, let's just say he gets closer and closer each time."

("Erectile Dysfunction" mouthed.)

"But he just cant finish."

(Michaels tosses the soap to the floor and walks back into the water. He rubs his hands all over his upper torso as the soapy water flows of his body.)

"Then we come to Cammy."

(Michaels lifts up his arm and washes his arm pit. He then licks his bicep while keeping his eyes trained on the camera.)

"Oh Cammy."

(Quick wink.)

"The man who thinks that he'll be remembered as some sort of great wrestler..."

(A sly smile spreads across his lips.)

"When he'll only be remembered as my *****."

(Michaels purses his lips, trying not to laugh. He continues to wash, as his hands go down, out of the camera's shot.)

"When one thinks of Beau Michaels.. the first word they'll think of is provocative."

(Michaels' eyes flutter.)

"Or seductive."

(He bites his bottom lip.)

"But when one thinks of Cameron Cruise.."

(Michaels brings his head down, and continues washing like normal.)

"They'll think Beau Michaels-Cruise."

(The water is turned off.)

"Because that's what I do."

(Michaels grabs the towel from the rack next to him...)

"I surround you ... inhale you ... and then make you mine."

(He wraps the towel around his waist.)

"Cameron Cruise already knows this .. and pretty soon, so will the rest of you."

(End as Michaels walks out of the shower. The camera focuses on the image of a face on his towel, resting over his backside ... the image of Joseph Melton.)

 

[CuseTroy]

FADE IN...

Troy Douglas stands at the TEAM interview set at the Alternative Sports Network studios, dressed in his typical ensemble of a black TEAM Dupree Cup t-shirt and khaki shorts. Troy smiles, scratches his forehead for a moment, then focuses his gaze on the camera lens.

TD: Kids, this one's gonna be a bit of an adventure.

Twelve men, six teams, one gauntlet. A "Lethal Lottery" indeed. One that's brought out the absolute cream of the crop in this industry to vie for what is probably the most unique tag team championship opportunity to pop up on the old viewscreen in quite a long time.

Completely random. Nothing more fun than that. Nothing better than the complete unpredictability and chaos that comes from tossing your name into a hat and hoping it gets pulled out along with the name of someone who won't just be an anchor for you.

And this time, well, this time I've hit the jackpot in this lethal lottery, boys and girls. Out of the eleven others who threw their names in for this little one night stand, I drew the most decorated, the most dominant, the most celebrated wrestler of the first decade of the new millennium.

Dan Ryan. The Ego Buster himself. A man who's won title after title in every company he's ever competed in, a man who just a few months ago ran through 63 others to take home the Merritt Trophy.

A man who, let's be honest, I've been acquainted with a couple times over my career, and it hasn't always been on the best of terms. We clashed and quarreled while he was signing my checks in EPW, and just a few short months ago, he put me through a car windshield with a Humility Bomb and sent me to the hospital after another little spat between us in A1E.

Not exactly the friendliest relationship in the world, eh?

So I can understand why Kin Hiroshi would doubt the ability of Dan and I to coexist in Denver, especially considering the fact the Dan's got three of the toughest competitors on the planet to deal with on the main event of this particular show, with a shot at the CoC to boot.

But, if that mistrust is the case for Dan Ryan and myself, it's certainly in play for the ten other men who'll comprise this little gauntlet. Because even though Dan and I have had our run-ins in the past, even though we've both given the other man a fair bit of antagonization, of the six duos heading into this match, the two of us are the most familiar with each other.

We may not be the best of buddies, and we probably never will be, but Dan and I, we know what to expect of each other, and we at least have some idea of what the other man is going to bring into the squared circle.

And with Dan and I, you're getting two men in the middle of the best stretches of their careers. Of course, that can be said about a few others that'll take to the ring in Denver, too.

Kin Hiroshi, for instance. The brand spankin' new NFW World Heavyweight Champion, and another man who I'm not exactly unfamiliar with. Kin, you're on a damn fine roll over the past twelve months, but you and I have done this in the ring before, and the last time we met in a TEAM event, way back at the very first SuperShow, I put you on the mat for the 1-2-3. It's happened before, Kin, and it can certainly happen again.

Then, we've got the man who almost shocked Dan Ryan in the TEAM Invitational, Rob Franklin. Rob, you've got a damn bright future ahead of you, no one is doubting that, but the big time, big city spotlight that'll one day shine on you, it's just a few more miles ahead on the odometer than you think it is.

You can pose and preen all you want, kid, you can make everyone believe that the world is your stage with smoke and mirrors, you can make yourself feel better by surrounding yourself with sycophantic yes-men, but you've got to be able to back it up inside that squared circle. And while you've got talent, you've got no focus for it, no direction in which to take it. You're flying blind, and when you do that, you're going to run straight into some unfriendly turbulence.

And as for your "half-decent" partner?

It has indeed been a long time, Cruise. A long time since you and I last did this dance. February '04, wasn't it? Damn long time ago. Light years, in terms of what I was then and who I am now. But, you're right. That night, your hand was raised and I was left looking at the lights.

But that's where the truth ends and your revisionist history kicks in, Cam. Because, if I remember, I had you beat until certain extracurriculur circumstances intervened. I'm not quite sure though, the memory's a little hazy.

Well, that's what they've got videotape for, and we can all take a look at that night if we want to. But, I'm not going to dwell on three-plus years ago, Cameron. I'm going to look to SuperShow VI, when I get the chance to turn the tables on your overconfident ass.

Speaking of the ass...

Nah. It's too obvious a segue. I'll leave Beau Michaels for another place and time. Not because he's not worth talking about--there's plenty to talk about with Beau, folks--but because I want to make sure to mention one more man before I leave here and fly out to the Mile High City.

The wild card...

The mystery man...

The Wolf...

Mike Randalls. You don't get a much bigger name than that in the world of professional wrestling. He's in that pantheon of names with the men who built this industry and revolutionized over the past two decades, and he's littered the grounds of countless arenas with the blood of legends and pretenders alike.

Hell, I sat in the fourth row the night he changed the wrestling world forever by driving a stake through a man's knee, among a myriad of other atrocities you just never expect to see when you shell out a ticket for a wrestling show. And I know that he's still that man today. I know, Mike, that you're still willing to put yourself on the line to inflict pain unto others, and I know that in that mind of yours you've got more ways to torture an opponent than just about any man who's ever dared to step between those ropes.

What I don't know, Randalls, is if your body can still do everything your mind can conceive. Mentally, emotionally, you're still capable of all the violence you've unleashed on your fellow man, but physically? We'll have to see if you can hold up to the possibility of five matches in one night, all strung together.

Personally, I hope you can. Because I don't want anyone stepping into that ring in Denver who's not at the absolute top of their game. That's what I'll be doing, and that's what my tag team partner will be doing.

Are we the favorites? I've got no idea, and honestly, I don't care at all. What I do know is that I know exactly what I'm going to get out of my tag team partner.

That ego problem? That trust problem? That lies with the rest of you. Familiarity might breed contempt, but unfamiliarity?

Well, that might just lead to utter chaos. You're problem, folks. Not mine.

Best of luck.

...FADE TO BLACK

 

[jediPREZ]

(CLOSE-UP: A close-up of TEAM's gold-lettered logo slightly sparkling from dim lighting. . . The camera pans back revealing a long black tapestry that's lit by a row of incense sticks and candles. A waft of smoke billows from the ground up, while the music plays lightly in the background. Standing quietly with his side facing the camera is 'The Wolf' MIKE RANDALLS, he exhales through his nose deeply as his emerald eyes flutter for a brief moment. )

RANDALLS: "I suppose the presumptions and predilections of our past and present would answer the questions we all seek, but I doubt the complex simplicities of love, life and luxury would be so easy to believe."

(RANDALLS' eyes open slowly, he turns and faces the camera. . .)

"I could ask Troy Douglas where the stake came from, to prove he's seen a ghost."

(RANDALLS smiles. . .)

"Don't you know the first secret of a lie is to never dig yourself a hole?"

(RANDALLS' eyes slowly close again. . )

"I could ask if you saw the sparks flashing sequences on a veil covering my eyes. The hate and anger, the greed and urge to kill everything I spiritually had left inside. . . (RANDALLS' eyes open slowly) You don't know the course of remorse, solitude, consequences and regret floating away like ashes in the air. . . Each shred a shot of adrenaline just feeling Guns' tendons tear. . . but Troy Douglas wasn't there. A legend can be told, a tale can be believed, but hollow inspiration only provide me cursory curiosities."

(RANDALLS starts stroking his beard in thought, looking off into nothingness on the side)

"So far, my only inquiry is in the irony of Beau missing an obvious Brokeback Mountain parody."

(RANDALLS stops stroking for a moment, pausing and then looks at the camera.)

"Or maybe Cameron whispered to him coldly in the night, knowing that you only find the fear of God if you seek to suck the poison from the curse. You see Troy, that's the price I pay for a wishful dream that's always blown away. I'm blessed with the cursed blood of an unknown soldier, shouldering a destiny that touches you like murder. I don't question if I can go five matches, I simply look at the circumstances. I can lift Matthew Kurtis onto my back and carry us through the unknown, I can show you what it means to be this sport's last hope."

(RANDALLS bends down, picking up one of the candles off the floor. . . its wax dripping onto his hand. . . and 'The Wolf' never stops once to flinch.)

"Dragging Matthew across the great divide, I can make the Phoenix burn bright. (RANDALLS smarts smiling creepily) But I will fall, my ashes spreading like seeds, their agony spawning hate and greed. (RANDALLS nods his head in disagreement, the smile intact) There is no darkness without any light, there are no shadows without the stars burning bright. You cannot fight what you cannot see. . ."

(RANDALLS blows out the candle -- FADE TO BLACK.)

"And you cannot see the light."

 

[TSiegel]

"Just as I expected..."

(Fadein, Cameron Cruise stretched out on a hammock in the backyard of his home in Jacksonville, NC)

CRUISE: Everyone's made their assumptions about what's going to happen in the Lethal Lottery match.

Beau thinks that when it's all said and done, my accomplishments are going to be far from what I expect...which still being under the age of 35, I've got plenty of time to take care of what I need to...and only be remembered as the guy forced into...

(Cruise clears his throat..)

Ahem..a three-person marriage with my wife that hates him as much as the Sun still shines 110 degrees-plus in the desert.

(The Camera does a temporary up close shot for a sentence and then reverts back to the original shot.)

Which is alot.

You see Beau...that's the sad thing about you. You still dwell on things that happened and put you in the spotlight for two-plus years now and you just can't move on, you can't shake free of it.

Kinda like a Curious-Kevin Federline, only no one really bought his album to begin with, because he was linked to a Britney Spears that was crazed up enough to even Anne Heche gets annoyed.

And they STILL hate his guts, which means that I won't be remembered for you hanging around...but you'll be remembered for being less than a One-Hit Wonder, while I've moved on months ago. All the while...you've stayed...well...

More like an ignorant-punk-b*tch who didn't know when to quit.

And this forthcoming match only proves my point even further.

(Cruise throws his hands behind his head, relaxing .)

Then there's Matthew Kurtis, and "The Wolf" Mike Randalls.

Well now, here's something that actually has my attention.

Mike Randalls, it's been awhile for us too, has it not??

At least afew years....hell, it was in Greensboro for the Unified World Heavyweight Championship back in oh-four if memory serves....and we ended up taking a draw.

Now...things got alittle messy back then, and with good reason:

I wasn't about to go down that easy.

Not against a man who drove a stake through GUNS knee, who had horrible battles with Merritt's Golden Boy, Hornet, or either of the Windhams, hell...Mike you were someone to be reckoned with back then and still are...

One hell of a force.

(Cruise takes his trademark Anarchy shades out of his left breast pocket of his dark blue-button up shirt, and puts them on, the sun flashing across the lenses as he looks off to the horizen, calm, relaxed.)

But sh*t's changed since then, Mike.

You're no longer the Unified World Heavyweight Champion, and I've been a Champion myself afew times over, which only means that since that last time we met in the ring three-to-four years ago...

While you've gotten away from things, away from the ring abit...hell, Joey told me afew months ago that you're teaching Lindsay Troy Yoga, how to meditate and release properly, which is good, it's showing me how much you've...well...evolved since then. Even as it stands you weren't the Malicious Terror that you were when I first saw you wrestle back in the day...

You can still bring it...but have a hardened 'Control' about it.

Which to me, is pretty intriguing to hear.

But you still haven't beaten me yet Mike, not physically, not spiritually. Now, because of that, I not only promise you...but I can GUARANTEE YOU..it's gonna take more than a Wooden Stake through my knee to keep me from what I'm aiming at to achieve.

But pinning you in the process....that's just a bonus.

(Cruise shrugs, then looks back over at the camera.)

Speaking of sure things...

(Cruise turns back and spits off to the side before looking back up.)

Troy Douglas, it's been almost as long since I defeated you back at Black Dawn that same year for a shot at what would be later claimed, Christian Sands' World Heavyweight Title.

Now Troy, if memory serves...if you don't come out of a match with a win, and that same match isn't thrown out due to some political indifference...what would you call that again??

Ah yes...LOSING.

I told you back then what I was gunning for, and that aspect hasn't changed; an IMPACT.

Now whether you got distracted from Beast waving atcha', a f*cking Leprechaun or the Popcorn Vendor Paul Freeman had working that night hitting on your fourth cousin twice removed...it makes none-the-difference to me.

My hand was raised, and yours' was not, so do yourself afavor:

Quit your b*tchin'. Don't bother to look at the older tapes, because as I've said earlier...I'm not the same man as I was then, not in the least.

You best hope to beat me and my partner Troy, is to be on top of your game, plain and simple.

I don't care if you're ready or not because I promise you that once I'm in that ring, whether it's against you...Ryan...Randalls...Japanese Thunder himself, Kin...

(Cruise takes his shades off a second.)

It's ON. That, Gentlemen and Freaks, is a Reality Check that you just...won't like.

(Cruise puts the shades back on, turning his head face up, takes a deep breath and relaxes.)

(Fadeout.)

 

[DBrunkGXW]

FADE IN....

Dan Ryan sits on a long leather couch with his legs crossed at the ankles and a remote control in his right hand. After a long long week of promoting matches and the like, Ryan is catching up on his research for the Lethal Lottery Gauntlet....listening to his various opponents, to his partner and so on.....

Ryan: "This has been awfully entertaining, I have to admit. There's a nice collection and variety of people in the Lethal Lottery, and I've absolutely always LOVED this format. There's just too much here to address all at once, and the pickings are overly ripe."

"MIKE...RANDALLS......"

"Yep, right off the top with it here Mike. I'm LOVING this sh*t so far, man. LOVING IT. I'm laughing my ass off and no, I'm not laughing at you...I'm laughing with you."

"I love watching people hear you speak and then sh*t their pants. You've got that old school, who knows what he's gonna do vibe about you. I love that, man. I really really do. Have we ever met in the ring? I'm drawing a blank here, Mike. What I do know is that we are the two former CSWA World Champions in this gauntlet. That should be enough motivation for the two of us shouldn't it?"

"I'll be honest. I'm aware that you're toying with these people. You have a pedigree that I wouldn't dare to disparage. I have to put you over, Mike...at least verbally...or else I'd be quite intellectually dishonest about things."

"It's an added bonus really. I never expected you to put your name in the hat for this, and now I'm looking forward to it more than ever."

"On the other hand there are others to think about...."

short laugh...

"Kin Hiroshi - you're quite the little superstar all of a sudden aren't you? Felix managed to make you a star after all I suppose. I guess it's all about timing isn't it? I beat Felix and Manson in the regular season and it's forgotten, but you beat Felix in the playoffs and become a star. It's kinda like how George Bush is against abortion but for the death penalty. Yep....all in the timing."

"But none of that erases our history together does it? We go back....as Chris Berman would say....back back back back back....way back to GXW. How many of us are left, the GXW alumni, Kin?"

"Another chapter, another day. Only now it's a little more interesting with you finally getting some due. Last year I noted how you were the most talented man in wrestling to never win the big won. It's nice to see my motivational skills are still there."

"Rob Franklin, it's good to see you again. They say I narrowly escaped with my life when we faced in the first round of the Team Invitational. It should tell you just how close to great you were. I won the thing after all, didn't I? I'll be honest with the world here in saying that you were extended an invitation to my company following our match. Young talent in this business is rare and not something to be ignored. And here you are with another chance to make your name on the big stage."

"Beau Michaels - I trust your back is recovered...and your neck...your knee....your nose, and everything else I busted up at Wrestlebowl. Beau, what needs to be said? You know the drill. I've already made it very clear to you how I feel about you, so keep the double entendres to yourself. Wrestle your match and move along, or return to your hospital bed."

"Sarge, stop kissing my ass. I hate that."

"You made your point. You're thankful for your big break. You're welcome. Now stop begging for a job, especially publically. Because this week, you have to worry about me beating your ass in the ring....... and whether or not I like or dislike your talent or your possible worth to Empire Pro as a future employee...I don't sign up for these things unless I plan to win."

"Cameron Cruise...."

"Riiiiiiiight."

"That brings me to my partner.....Troy Douglas."

"Troy - you pretty much said it all. We've done this a lot, and we've never....never ever been on good terms when these things happen. And yeah, the last time we met I broke you damn near in half."

"But I'll give you this, Troy. You stood up to me, man to man. You got your ass kicked, but you were man enough not to back down and you were smart enough to know when you were beat and to move on. I can live with that. If we're to be teammates, that's not such a bad trait to have in a partner."

"So for one time only...it's you and me against the field - and there will be no backstabbing and no problems here. We're both EPW as well....so I guess it's up to us to show what EPW can do."

"Lethal Lottery baby....I'm ready to go. Two belts in one night. Won't that be nice?"

FADE OUT....​

 

[jediPREZ]

Fools on the Hill

“Who’s the more foolish? The fool, or the fool who’s blissfully unaware he’s a fool in the first place?”

(FADEIN: ‘The Wolf’ MIKE RANDALLS – atop a horse, the camera’s vantage point coming from below and catching dusk’s red sun rays spreading across the horizon. . .)

RANDALLS: “I compare Cameron Cruise to Dan Ryan, only because Dan’s bursting ego built upon brutalizing the little schoolyard children for the last ten years should be realized as the only important connection to his partner, Troy Douglas and his little white lie.”

(RANDALLS looks to the camera. . .)

“Maybe I tend to get a little long-winded, so please bear with the story, which isn’t to explain convictions, addictions or any fall from glory. I’ll hope that the total attention span between you two fools won’t be impossible to crack. Dan, your natural tendency to defend and attack, rather than explore oneself and their flaws. . . I’m sorry, I don’t respect a man studying my 'facts,' looking to exploit the holes just to tell me that I don’t know jacksh*t.”

(RANDALLS smirks and looks away towards the sky)

“As for you, Cameron, you can look up to the sky and ask why it’s blue, or why the sun shines and what does it do? The fool requires no thought or integrity, just naiveté, innocence and simplicity. Unfortunately, a fool will sometimes attempt to wax poetics, showing his insignificant and metaphorically simple existence. . .”

(The camera pans back. . .and it shows RANDALLS leading his horse to a mountainside lake, presumably in the southwest from the coloring on the rocks. RANDALLS dismounts as the horse starts drinking from the water. . .the camera focusing on him looking out over the lake)

“Let us begin. . .”

(RANDALLS turns around, facing the camera)

“A long, long time ago, in a galaxy, far, far away I drove a stake through a man’s kneecap tearing every piece of bone connecting to cartilage to tendon. I’ve learned in the eleven years after to give my opponents the courtesy warning of impending disaster. The fool doesn’t understand the severity of this situation, believing that their god given abilities will supersede reality. Thus, Cameron Cruise states the words that a stake through his kneecap won’t stop him, no matter the laws of physics nor medicine.”

(RANDALLS laughs and extends his arm out towards the lake. . .)

“Perhaps, you’d like to take a stroll somewhere afterwards?”

(RANDALLS shakes his head somewhat disappointedly as he laughs. . .)

“Cameron, I don’t care if you’ve walked into some half-assed Special Olympics competition and gotten yourself some gold-plated belt with a plastic strap. I don’t care if you’ve won the EPW World Tag Team Championships. Everything you’ve gotten in your life, you’ve gotten because people PITY. . .(RANDALLS spits on the ground, smirking) THE FOOL.”

(RANDALLS walks towards his horse)

“Led to water, wine and women all your life, you might look good kid, but behind your backs nobody believes that YOU have what it takes. You’ve hitched rides to Joey Melton’s writing development team of Larry David, John Landis and Jean-Claude Van Damme, amused Dan Ryan in the process and gotten a free ride to a level of mediocre accomplishments that gets you a modicum of respect.”

(RANDALLS pauses for a moment. . . waiting patiently. . .)

“It means not that much, Cameron. It means that people feel sorry for you. It means that Joey Melton looked at you knowing that you wouldn’t be able to do any better and made you his personal charity case. Its not all that surprising, considering how much of that respect you sold away to New Frontier Wrestling just to make it into the playoffs. You’d take it up the piehole to wear the CSWA World Championship title, but at least that gives you something in common with Joey’s brother.”

(RANDALLS starts petting his horse, who’s drinking the water)

“We can lead you to water, but we can’t lead you to dignity. We can’t lead you to intelligence or common sense. (RANDALLS looks back towards the camera) I lost over TWENTY straight matches for a whole year. I didn’t attempt a SINGLE pinfall in that time, I never attempted to win or lose, just to sacrifice my body to the fans in justice for that stake that would do nothing to you. During our “DRAW,” did you ever look back and start wondering about this? Or are you so blind, so deaf and so dumb that this is NEWS to you?”

(All of a sudden, RANDALLS grabs the horse’s reigns and pulls it, walking towards the middle of the lake.)

“What will it take to teach you Cameron? Joey Melton has a brother. . . I would know, 'cause one lonesome night we killed a man just to see him die. Of course, you wouldn’t understand the irony of this situation because as the fool, you only see the world through your own tunnel of vision.”

(The horse starts trying to pull back as RANDALLS walks out deeper, now chest-high. . .and turns to face the horse, grabbing its muzzle and forcefully dragging it. . .)

“You blindly follow your friends off the cliff, believing they respect and admire you. Believing their jokes about the time Mike Randalls taught Lindsay Troy yoga, while smoking out of a hookah laced with mushrooms and robotussin. You want to know why we had a draw, Cameron? The reason could be as simple and brutal as myself having standards in a time of when I was trying to lose every match, but if you cut deeper with the knife – I wouldn’t be able to look into your pitiful eyes and let you believe that big of a lie. That's your reality check.”

(The horse breaks free, running away from RANDALLS. . . )

“The Phoenix has fallen. The sacrifice has been made and if you think I’ve been left to wither away wearily listening to a pawn that may or may not be smarter than my f*cking horse, then we may or may not have the answer to that riddle.”

(RANDALLS ducks his body underwater, then rises with his hair slicked back and the dirty water dripping lightly off his beard. He starts walking back to the edge of the lake, where his horse is loyally waiting for him.)

“Seemingly so, Dan Ryan’s eyes are lolling back waiting for his turn. A former CSWA World Champion and glorious golden calf of idolatry to many here at TEAM and on this circuit. What does Dan Ryan do for me now?”

(RANDALLS shrugs)

“Nothing. Just like Guns. . .(small smirk) at the beginning.”

(As RANDALLS exits the water, the horse takes off for a little bit in the other direction, still not trusting him.)

“I’m not a former CSWA World Champion, Dan. I’ve held a title from an era long forgotten, but I’ve not held a title in a decade by choice. The CSWA means nothing to me, it died five years ago and whether you gave it a heartbeat for a month won’t mean sh*t to the world on your tombstone, just like what I’ve done ten years ago shouldn’t mean anything on mine.”

(RANDALLS tooths a creepy smile, his emerald eyes staring straight into the camera.)

“Perhaps, you don’t understand my motivational nature. You’ve bullied around for the last five years, Dan. A legion of wide-eyed wrestlers bowing down in your honor, as if you’ve driven your fist through Zeus’ heart and conquered Mount Olympus. You’ve put Mayfield, Manson, Miles and Melton on their backs and twice on Tuesdays . . .”

(RANDALLS’ smile grows wider, his eyes gleaming as the dusk fades. . . )

“. . . but you’ve never felt your body shake uncontrollably in fear because of what another man is willing to do to his own body to hurt yours. You’ve never questioned the limits of your abilities in the face of a schizophrenic psychotic that’s furiously spinning out of control, lacking in sound judgment, or any morals. You’ve never obsessed about the natural-born-ability that’s greater than yours, striving to build yourself as strong. . . losing your sanity and becoming the psychotic I knew you could be all along. . . “

(RANDALLS pulls out something from his pocket, it looks like a bag of dry oatmeal. . . he whistles slightly into the cooling air.)

“It’s your choice, whether to see the disaster for what it is, Dan. You can step on the train tracks and stop my wheels from spinning, hopefully being able to walk away defeated by a man with no partner in a Lethal Lottery with a sound conscience and admission of being a lesser man.”

(RANDALLS nods)

“Because as of right now, if Matthew Kurtis steps foot into the Pepsi Arena, not only will I try to end his career, but I will refuse to step into the ring if security prevents me from doing so.”

(RANDALLS lets the words sink in, the horse slowly walks into the picture. . . )

“. . . Or just like Guns and everyone that dared to try, you can watch the divine spark flash, the Phoenix’s ashes covering your eyes...“

(The horse feeds from RANDALLS’ hand, he drops the bag onto the ground as the camera closes in on him staring. . .)

“And you'll find a floating feather, but it won’t be sent down to help you fly away. You’ll have chosen the path of shadows, where only the damned congregate. You will not find justice, prejudice or any answer you seek. . . you will only find a mountain and a peak that you cannot reach. Turn around Dan, walk away from this plight . . because in the end against the Way. . .”

(FADETOBLACK)

”You cannot fight what you cannot see. . . and you cannot see the light.”

 

[EpyonMarx]

Dirty Pair...

[FADE IN. A beautiful scene, flowers behind a chain-link fence, with the slightest edge of a train track nearby. We can hear what sounds like a level crossing, warning people that a train is coming. After a few seconds, we can hear a train getting nearer, nearer – and then we see it, as we pan up and out to see traffic, waiting for the train to pass. The train is three carriages long, and only takes a few seconds to speed past.

CUTTO: Inside the train. It’s crowded, though we only get a shot of the lower part of a few legs. One foot, clad in a red boot, moves]

Tomboyish voice: Hey, back off! Are you trying to crush me?!

[CUTTO: Another shot inside the train, twenty two seconds after the start of the tape. This time, we see much more of a leg – a lighter skin-tone than the earlier one, dressed in white thigh-high boots, with a white skirt trimmed with gold. The hair colour seems a little odd though – light purple?]

Girly-girl voice: He~y, you’re pulling my hair!

[ZOOMOUT! We see we’re actually watching a giant screen. On the screen, we get a top-down shot of the crowd in the train, with the two voices lodging numerous complaints. Suddenly, a cough from off-camera brings a few murmurs, and the shot pauses… the lights come on…

And a man in a black “Dirty Pair Flash” T-shirt stands before us, next to a light-switch. A man fans of the sadly defunct jWo know as]

Otaku: Spoilsport [he pokes his tongue at the cameraman – presumably the source of the throat-clearing cough a few seconds ago] I don’t know, I try to broaden people’s minds beyond The Simpsons and Transformers, and this is the thanks I get? No Yuri for you!

And no yuri either.

Cameraman: You do know we’re only allowed to have ten per cent of the tape max be something that someone else owns the copyright on, right?

Otaku: I was gonna stop! Honest!

Cameraman: Yeah, buddy, and I’m the queen of Sheba. You were gonna just let the whole thing show, weren’t you?

Otaku: [sheepish] Ma~ybe.

Cameraman: Look, I’m not getting paid until you’ve said something about the Lethal Lottery match.

Otaku: Then I can watch anime to my heart’s content again?

[The camera nods up and down]

Otaku: YATTA! So, I… best get started, huh?

Cameraman: Yup.

Otaku: OK. If it’ll get me back to ANIME!

Now… where to start… it’s a surprise being here, actually. I mean, I didn’t even know about this tournament until after the applications for places had to be in. I think I was busy writing the continuation to Cosplay Complex or something. I love those fan-fictions. Well, the good ones. Most people don’t have a clue how to write, but there’s this one girl, Lindsay, boy she can write! I must PM her sometime to congratulate her on her latest piece. But anyways! I heard that Simply Beautiful had to drop out, so I called them up, they took down my name, and a few days later, I heard back, and I’m in! Otaku, teaming with Beau Michaels! Can you believe that? Me, teaming with a big name? It’s like when Icchan helped Misaki-chi in Angelic Layer, or when Kakashi-sensei agrees to train team seven.

Except I probably need to send him more yaoi. But anyways, it’s a thrill to even be in this match! My second on the pro-circuit! Going up against such great opponents like Ryan, Randalls, Cruise, Hiroshi… so many great names!

I mean, not for nothing, I’m the rookie in this match. I know that, I understand that. I’m not exactly thinking what happened to Misaki-chi is going to happen to me – that I can go all the way, lose only one match, and become the champ by beating my own wheel-chair-bound mother in a hotly contested Angelic Fight after a tearful reunion having not seen her in years.

And before anyone asks, my mother is fine, she’s not in a wheel-chair, and I saw her last weekend on her birthday.

But, you know – I do think Beau and I can pull this one off. Sure, there are some self-professed ‘bad-asses’ in the gauntlet match, and sure, some of them may think they deserve to feel that way. I’ve youtubed some matches featuring some of these guys, and they’re pretty tough. But anything can happen in the next half hour, as Stingray said. Sadly not Sylvia in the original shows, but we can’t have everything, can we?

All it takes is a little energon, and a lot of luck.

SEE?! THAT’S TRANSFORMERS, MICHAEL BAY!!

Sorry. Got a lil carried away there.

So… Lethal Lottery? Teaming with Beau Michaels? I’m just going to go out there and have fun. Then I’ll go to the back and watch some anime. I’ll give Beau some yaoi for him and Cruise, I might give some shotacon to them too, and some burn a few DVDs of yuri for other people if anyone wants it.

Except the cameraman.

Cameraman: Just wrap it up already! You’re almost as dull to tape as Randalls.

Otaku: Win, lose, draw, get incinerated in a fiery explosion caused by a stray energy blast – I’m gonna enjoy this match. That’s the heart of pro-wrestling for the wrestlers. If it stopped being fun, I’d stop doing it.

Simple as.

And you may fade now. I wanna get back to Kei and Yuri!

That’s Yuri, capital Y.

Cameraman: under his breath] weirdo…

[FADE]

Narrator: Next time, on Otaku

Otaku: Hey gang, Otaku here! On the next exciting episode, can Beau Michaels and I co-exist? Will we triumph over evil, or will the road to justice be blocked by a giant Wolf? More importantly, will I have enough yaoi to placate my team-mate? It’s all on the next exciting episode!

And there’ll be lots of fan-service, too

[END]

 

[robishott]

Right Now

Is it rolling?

We fade in, this time to see Rob Franklin alone, sitting on a car looking up at the night, starry sky.

Good.

Now, I know everyone out there thinks I'm some type of...jackass. Hell, they think I'm an arrogant little punk. They think I bite off more than I can chew on a regular basis.

They're right.

Rob doesn't take his eyes off the sky. There is a definite tone of seriousness in his voice.

Around TEAM, I'm pretty much known as the kid who...on his best day, almost beat Dan Ryan.

Thing is, that's not good enough.

I don't know. Maybe I set my expectations too high, but I for one, was not "proud" of being a loser. Was that what I was destined to be? Was my defining moment a loss?

There is a lot of great people in this guantlet. One of those is Dan Ryan. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to get in the ring with him.

And hell, if I do win this whole thing...this whole guantlet. Would it be because of me, or because I got lucky and nabbed a great partner. Yes, "half decent" Cameron Cruise will be a very beneficial factor to me in this match, but I still feel that if I could do this thing alone, I would.

I want to take on the world.

Maybe that's why I act the way I do. Maybe I just want to be the one everyone hates. For some reason, I think this is the easy way out. Less pressure, you know? Everyone wants me, and expects me to lose. As opposed to being everyone's favorite.

I...I hang around with people that have no business being in my presense, or the presesnce of anyone in the world, really.

I have a lot of flaws.

I'm not perfect, in fact, I've never really thought that I was.

Maybe...

Maybe I'm insecure.

Maybe I'm a liar.

But I know one thing...

I'm not a loser.

...Not...not any more.

Lethal Lottery. My chance to prove that I am, indeed the best on the planet.

If I win...If WE win. I can actually say that I'm the best. I'm the best in this match if I win. If I win, I'm better than Dan Ryan. I'm better than Kin Hiroshi, Mike Randalls, The Sergeant, all of them.

And if I know that I'm better, I will be better.

Am I having a change of heart? No. I'm stating, that everything I've done. Everything I've ever kidded myself into believing. Everything I've called myself. "The Best" "A Champion" - All of that will be abruptly ended if I can't will my team to win the Lethal Lottery. If I lose, everyone is right about me.

For once, at Supershow VI: Lethal Lottery, I finish what I started. That, is a promise.

Fade to Black

 

[Linguistic]

The Sergeant: Lethal Lottery Final Installment<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" /><o></o>

<o></o>
After his promotional rant earlier in the week, The Sergeant had to see where he stood in the game of verbal jousting that always seems to be a prelude to the modern day professional wrestling match. Sarge had taken the time to look over all of the interviews and segments that had been broadcast since his promo, and he couldn’t help but think to himself that if trash talking were the event then almost every single team in the Lethal Lottery would win the match. There could be no losers.
<o></o>
He wondered how his trash talking stood up with the others, as this almost always determined the favorites going into any match. He couldn’t help but hope that his “tagging Paris Hilton” line at least earned him some brownie points on the trash-talking front, but he knew in his heart that people were overlooking him. It didn’t matter how many clever one-liners he could come up with. He would still be viewed as the guy with ring rust and not as a threat.
<o></o>
Mere days from Lethal Lottery, Sarge had been given the opportunity to listen to each of these voice box acrobats. He was sitting in a hotel room outside of Denver and he was tired of paying attention to what they’d all been saying. Dressed in his typical attire of desert-camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt, he actually had the look of somebody that had been a little on the lazy side for a few days. In truth, he had been lazy. He was still getting used to training for a wrestling match again and if he kept training at the pace that he was then he would have ring rust.
<o></o>
Thinking back at how he had come across to the television viewing public the past few days, he quickly became tired of dwelling on the past few months and what his opponents had been saying. He was tired of coming across as the guy who was kissing Dan Ryan’s ass and trying shaking off ring rust. He knew that it was time to shut up and get back to the thing that he did best: TRAIN.
<o></o>
He’d been left out of most of the attacks in promos due to an obvious lack of regard and his tag team partner for the match, “Hot Stuff” Adam Cash, had been making himself scarce… living up to his well-deserved reputation. All of this added up to a recipe for disaster, and Sarge wasn’t happy about it at all.
<o></o>
He thought about his opponents for a moment:
<o></o>
Dan Ryan was nothing more than his stereotypical “wrestling elite with a chip on his shoulder” self. <o></o>
<o></o>
Mike Randalls spoke in a way that impressed Dan Ryan… but Sarge knew that impressing Dan Ryan just meant that you had to confuse him so badly that the only thing he could do was save face by feigning comprehension and acting impressed. In other words, nobody honestly had a clue what the hell it was that Mike Randalls was talking about.<o></o>
<o></o>
Kin Hiroshi and Troy Douglas were content just to ride their lucky tag team “Lethal Lottery favorite” thing to its conclusion. They were more concerned with the fact that they had awesome tag team partners than they were anything else. While winning might have been on their list of things to do, it wasn’t something that they were showing much desire for.<o></o>
<o></o>
Rob Franklin had just been content to be himself. No heart. No guts. He was just playing a role and not doing much else… and to think that when Sarge started following wrestling again Rob Franklin was the hot rookie topic of discussion. This match just might separate Franklin from the really hungry young rookies. Sarge had been one before. Rob didn’t show him much that Sarge himself didn’t do a hundred times better in his rookie year. Franklin was all hype… and a majority of that hype came from him, not the experts or the fans.<o></o>
<o></o>
Beau Michaels… was just disgusting. Sarge already knew that was all Beau was going for… to freak everyone out and take them off of their game… but… just… gross!<o></o>
<o></o>
Then there was Cameron Cruise. Sarge couldn’t help but shake the feeling that even though Cruise had picked up a few titles in his career, the two of them were not all that completely different. Both seemed to be struggling in order to get on top of professional wrestling and stay there. They both didn’t want mere “moments of greatness”, but to be recognized as great. Their problem seemed to stem from the fact that they were so overt about that fact, so they appeared weak in comparison to those at the top.
<o></o>
Sarge’s realization of his similarities to Cameron Cruise came out of left field and almost literally knocked Sarge off of the side of his hotel room bed. He’d just come back from a tremendous fight away from the wrestling ring and he’d been coming across as minor league… as a rookie again. This pissed him off.
<o></o>
“Well, I wanted a trial by fire to get me jump started and back on my career track,” said Sarge to himself as he picked himself up off of the bed to make his way to the hotel room door.
<o></o>
“It looks like that is exactly what I am going to get.”
<o></o>
He opened the door to go for a jog. He had become resolute in his decision to train harder, get stronger, and leave his insecurities behind him in order to pick up this important win. He would win this Lethal Lottery all by himself if he was forced to.
<o></o>
To hell with what everyone else thought. To hell with any future employment. To hell with his love life.
<o></o>
He was going to show these sons of *****es that he was for real. They were all going to stand up and take notice.
<o></o>
*END*

 

[Phenomenal]

(A voice from inside the control room speaks: )
<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" /><o> </o>
“Mister Cash! Mister Cash! You’re up. It’s been your turn for awhile now. “
<o> </o>
(“Hot Stuff” Adam Cash stands up from his chair. A manservant runs over to Cash and uses a small brush to dust off his charcoal gray Ralph Lauren suit.)
<o> </o>
“Julian.. Tell the man with the low I/Q in the booth who I am.”
<o> </o>
“This is Mr. Adam Cash, sir.”
<o> </o>
“D*mn right. I am Adam Cash. You will speak to me in a tone of respect. You will not tell me when it is my time to speak. I will speak whenever and wherever I see fit. I waited until the final minutes because I demand to have the final word over everything. Why? Because it is what it is. My word IS final.”
<o> </o>
“We are very sorry, Mr. Cash. Would you like to start now?..... Pr**k.”
<o> </o>
“What did you say? “
<o> </o>
“Uhhh. The lights are hot. They have been on all day. We don’t want you to get sick.”
<o> </o>
(Cash half way listens and shrugs off the words said from the booth)
<o> </o>
“Alright, Alright. The Lethal Lottery Championship Gauntlet. I figured I would get to pick my own partner. Instead it is some pimply faced errand boy with sweaty palms digging around a tattered paper bag from the supermarket getting all jubilant over names that he wishes he could be but will only have wet dreams of. “
<o> </o>
(Adam removes his pin striped jacket and coral blue tie.)
<o> </o>
“The Sergeant. Eh. Great. That’s all I need. A dirty, greasy, grimy, Agent Orange filled, out of wrestling for 6 months, out of his mind for longer than that, while pulling out the last 500 dollars from his savings account to purchase a long washed up, good for nothing, untalented wrestling group that will never see the light of day. Good God, I hope he has more wrestling skill than business savvy to help us get through this fiasco. Of course, the only thing he is worrying about now is an <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1:Street><st1:address>irish street</st1:address></st1:Street> walker. Beautiful, another loser that I will have to carry through this deal.”
<o> </o>
(Sighs): “And he wanted to know if I was going to show up. Imbecile.”
<o> </o>
“Kin Hiroshi. NFW World Champion and Muffin Baker..Muffin Diver.. His reputation proceeds him. If I were to pick a deserving champion… It would be…. ME!”
<o> </o>
(Adam looks down the list of competitors.)
<o> </o>
“You have to be kidding me. There isn’t anyone on this list that will even be able to work together for their own greater good. Who came up with this match? My gardener could have come up with a better show. And he only has half a brain.”
<o> </o>
(Laughter emits from the control booth.)
<o> </o>
“No seriously. He lost part of his brain in a pudding mixing machine at one of my daddy’s companies. He gave Yoshii the gardener job out of pity.”
<o> </o>
“Cameron Cruise. Would’ve been great. Could’ve been great. Should’ve kept his mouth shut when talking about me. I welcome the chance to prove you wrong. Paris Hilton doesn’t equal Gay..”
<o> </o>
“Troy <st1lace>Douglas</st1lace>.. The one man in this playground that I would’ve believed that was my equal and would be a shoo-in to win this championship. Easily a better partner than what was forced on me.”
<o> </o>
The other <st1lace>Douglas</st1lace>. Har-leee Ace. Yee Haw. Shucks Maw! I done slopped the hogs! I want to go play by the cement pond. Harley. You may be a champion. But, if the ring had been worth stepping into a few weeks ago; you would’ve never touched that title. It would’ve gone home with me. But, I don’t step into poorly manufactured rings from Goodwill.”

(Cash walks around the area. The room is heating up. Julian, Cash’s manservant runs over to pat his forehead with a cool cloth and to hand Adam a cold bottle of water.)
<o> </o>
“Thank you, Julian. Where was I? Oh yes…”
<o> </o>
“Mike “Smells like Wolves” Randalls. Talks way too much. Never shuts up. The mystery is how to keep him quiet. Whatever was flowing from his mouth was worse than the sewage rolling down Broadway.”
<o> </o>
“Otaku. Huh? Should’ve been like Randalls. Not allowed to have a camera and a microphone. Shallow and Worthless.”
<o> </o>
“Beau Michaels. A heralded bisexual. Lover of men. Never seen around a woman. <st1:State><st1lace>Texas</st1lace></st1:State> law says that would be a gay man. Of course, Texans would be the one to recognize that without a microscope.
<o> </o>
“Matthew Kurtis.. The only guy in this zoo to do exactly what he needed to do. Keep his mouth shut. “
<o> </o>
“Daniel Ryan. Like Daddy said. When in the business world; you keep the ones that can get you farther down the line and more money in your pockets right by your side. What can I say? I respect the man. He doesn’t even need to speak to win. He’s proven. He’s immortal. He should be the obvious winner. You go, Danny!”
<o> </o>
“Ok. You got what you wanted. Adam Cash has spoken. His point has been made and he will carry The Sergeant to the Championship! Julian.. Grab my jacket and tie. Have Manuel pull the car forward. I will be right there.”
<o> </o>
“Yes sir, Mr. Cash. Right away, Sir.”
<o> </o>
(Julian leaves the room)
<o> </o>
(control room): “Mr. Cash. You have forgotten one wrestler. Rob Franklin.”
<o> </o>
“I didn’t forget him.. He wasn’t worth my time to speak about.”
<o> </o>
“Ok. We are finished. The final word has been spoken.”
<o> </o>
(Cash walks out of the room. Cameras watch him trying to find his way to the exit door.)
<o> </o>
“Julian. JULIAN!! Help me get out of here!”
<o> </o>
“Right away…sir.”
<o> </o>
<o> </o>
Fade out…
<o> </o>

 

[TSiegel]

Last Ditch effort...

(Fadein, Cameron Cruise turning a corner that leads to a hallway of hotelrooms. It's Four in the morning and Three layovers later, Cruise has the unfortunate honor of becoming the last talent to register into the hotel. Outside of being tired from the trip from Jacksonville, Cruise had been Mentally ready for awhile. Just about everything had gone the way he'd expected, maybe not word for word...but he'd gotten the understanding the way he'd presumed it.

Dan Ryan was Dan Ryan, and just completely ignored him.

Mike Randalls had barely acknowledged him, let alone Cruise's draw with him barely being the most remote-looking challange to him, outside of Dan's Ego, but had flexed philosophical on him anyway.

Sergeant had been abundantly clear about doing his best to consistently advance, regardless of his partner's absence. Ring rust or not, Cruise was not about to be disuaded as a non-factor in the match. If anything, a Wild Card.

Beau...well, he couldn't care less about Beau, so long as he stayed outta his way.

Even his own partner barely believed in him, quite possibly for the sole inclination of winning the contest, but had failed to understand that while he had ALMOST beat Dan Ryan in the ring, Cruise HAD.

This was going to be certainly interesting, and something that could change things for a long time to come, and could prove a Reality Check for everyone involved.

But He was just not going to allow it to include him, no matter how outrageous his opponent was or his own partner.

Cruise finally stops at the door of his room, takes a deep breath as he slides in his room key, and enters, closing the door behind him.

It had been a long trip, and sleep was going to be the only thing on his mind other than the up-and-coming-match-up.

So long as he had anything to say about it.)

FADEOUT.