FREEMAN: You know, your performance last week was excellent. You're justifying my faith in hiring you.
[The camera pans over, revealing "The Show Stealer" Dean Matthews sitting across the desk from Freeman.]
MATTHEWS: Yep, I know.
FREEMAN: Hiring you as my assistant was one of the best moves I've made thus far.
MATTHEWS: Are you sure Big Dan's okay with it? I wouldn't wanna eat a Humility Bomb over this-
FREEMAN: Oh, don't worry about Dan. He doesn't mind.
MATTHEWS: Good.
[Freeman looks down at the event program on his desk, frowning faintly.]
FREEMAN: In any case, the next match up is between X and Brian Hale. I need you to go out there and do what we discussed.
MATTHEWS: No problem.
[Pushing out of his chair, Matthews bows mockingly.]
MATTHEWS: And with that, I'm outta here.
[As Matthews departs, Freeman watches him go, then shrugs and returns to his paperwork.]
MN: Ha! So THAT'S what was behind Matthews bringing in those gorgeous Empire Girls!
DT: So it would seem! Looks like Matthews is now a member of EPW's management team - and it seems he's got some business in this next match!
MN: We have another match?
DT: Yes we do. Last week, X battled Karl Brown in a chain match and took the Dragon to his limits despite not emerging the victor. He's certainly impressed many people. Hale, on the other hand, was steamrolled by the man known as Blu Thundarous. Tonight he has the chance to prove that his loss at Aggression was a fluke.
MN: Or just get stepped on.
DT: Let's go to the ring.
TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall!
["X Gonna Give It To You" by DMX blares over the loudspeaker as the lights go down. Time passes, strobe lights light up the entrance way and everyone is looking around for X, but he is no where to be found. After a few more seconds, a commotion seems to be erupting in the crowd. X appears in the crowd carrying his patented black steel chair marked with a white X and wrapped in barbed wire. He stands on a chair or anything he can find in the crowd and while still holding his chair in his right hand, he crosses his arms to make an X. He fights his way through the crowd, hops the barrier, and rolls into the ring. He starts banging on the ropes with the chair and then proceeds to make the same X gesture while standing on the middle of the ropes.]
TONY FATORA: Introducing first... He hails from the Bronx... He weighs in at two hundred and ten pounds... He is the man known as ECCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSS!!!
MN: The man known as WIL-L-L-L-LBUR-R-R-R-R-R!
DT: Don't start that Wilbur stuff again. Please.
[Cue up: "Hush" - Tool. The spotlight begins to quiver with the music as the curtains part and out steps Bunnie Hil to a huge ovation from the male population in the arena. Bunnie struts about halfway down the aisle before stopping and turning back to the entrance and pointing, as if on cue white pyro shoots out top of the entrance ramp as Brian Hale steps through the curtain. He jogs in place for a few minutes, rolling his neck from side to side before making his way down to the ring.]
TONY FATORA: And his opponent... He hails from Aspen, Colorado... He weighs in at two hundred and fifteen pounds... He issssss BRIAAAAAAAAAAANNNNN... HAAAAAAAAAAAALE!!!
DT: Well, folks -
[Cue up: "Sharp Dressed Man" - ZZ Top. The crowd pops loudly, recognizing the music.]
DT: - Wait a minute, that's Dean Matthews' music!
MN: Well, he WAS supposed to be coming out here.
[As X and Hale turn towards the ramp, Matthews strolls out onto the stage in his white suit and top hat. He raises a mic.]
MATTHEWS: Killeth yon music, O monkeys in the back.
[The music stops.]
MATTHEWS: I'm out here because we have a problem. That problem is YOU, Mr. Hale. Care to explain to me WHY you haven't been promoting your matches?
[Cut to the ring, where Hale blinks, taken aback, then yells an unheard excuse at Matthews. Cut back to Matthews, who offers a huge grin, looking not unlike a blond grand piano.]
MATTHEWS: Bri, Bri, Bri... Now we just can't have you not doing your job, can't we? I think it's time we laid down the law. Therefore, I'm making this match... NO... DISQUALIFICATION!!!
[HUGE crowd pop!]
MATTHEWS: Have fun, Bri-Bri. And remember - DO YOUR JOB next time, 'kay? 'Kay. Love ya.
[Smirking, Matthews turns and strolls to the back.]
[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]
DT: Oh dear! This sudden change of stipulation does not bode well for-
[Grinning like Christmas, X whirls and suddenly LAMBASTES Hale in the head with his barbed wire chair! Hale crumples to the mat immediately, limp.]
DT: - OH! X WITH THE CHAIR TO THE HEAD OF HALE!!!
MN: Now THAT was a quick start!
[Rolling Hale over, X covers. Referee Andrew Gardell makes the count.]
DT: There's a count! This could be over already - NO! Hale kicked out at two!
MN: Well, I guess he's not a TOTAL jobber, then.
[Gruffly, X grabs Hale by the hair and drags him to his feet. He slaps the former snowboarded in the face a few times, then wheels him into the corner. Hale's face hits the turnbuckle, and he stumbles out into a big neckbreaker from X.]
DT: Neckbreaker by X takes Hale to the canvas!
MN: Hale's so done. This is X's environment, plain and simple.
DT: X is certainly a student of the hardcore genre, as he's mastered the use of foreign objects and roughneck tactics.
[X rolls out of the ring, digging under the ring apron. He emerges with a table. Sliding into the ring, X begins to set up the table, but sees Hale recovering. With a shrug, X drives the edge of the table into Hale's ribs, then smashes his face off of it.]
DT: X now making use of that table to keep Hale reeling.
MN: I smell someone going through that thing.
[It doesn't take X long to finish setting up the table. He slugs Hale in the face a few times, then sets his barbed wire chair atop the table. With that, he whips Hale into the ropes, catching Hale with the Xecution onto the chair and through the table at the same time!]
[CROWD: "Ho-ly sh*t! Ho-ly sh*t! Ho-ly sh*t!"]
DT: SWEET MERCIFUL CRAP!!! THE XECUTION ONTO THE BARBED-WIRE STEEL AND THROUGH THE TABLE!!! HALE HAS TO BE DEAD!!!
MN: YES!!! THAT WAS AWESOME!!!
[Smiling, X rolls a bloody Hale over and covers him. The three count is academic.]
DT: It's all academic now! One! Two! THREE! X picks up the win in his Pay-Per-View debut!
[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]
TONY FATORA: Here is your winnerrrr... ECCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSS!!!
DT: I'd like to call that a hard-fought win for X, but really, he outright slaughtered Brian Hale here tonight.
MN: Of COURSE he did! X is probably one of the most hardcore guys in EPW! He was in his element, and Hale's a deadbeat anyway.
DT: It's a shame, because I've seen Hale in action elsewhere and he has a lot of talent. Either way, a strong showing for X, as he continues to make a name for himself here in Empire Pro.
The hair on the back of Cameron Cruise’s neck stood on end as he pulled on the knob, opening a door to an unmarked storage room in the Georgia Dome.
He should have been a doctor. His parents wanted that more than anything. Planned parenthood’s not just about minimizing surprises. For the Cruises, it meant scheduling the formative years of Cameron’s life to the second of every day. Planting the seed in little Cammy’s head that the necessary student loans he’d face in college were a short-term obstacle. And by delivering premature babies or bringing a cardiac arrest victim back from the brink of death, he’d have the spiritual clearance to skip out early on Sundays to make a favorable tee time. Cameron’s PJs were O.R. scrubs, and he was fed a steady television diet of medical dramas.
Maybe it was the “St. Elsewhere” finale that convinced him a medical career was his parent’s dream, and not his. Though, he did enjoy the Friday Night family “Operation” tournaments. He feels sorry for today’s kids: mindlessly plowing through hours of video games. Until they can pull a miniature chicken bone out of a man’s sternum, boasts of hand-eye coordination are lost on Cruise.
High hopes, and the best of intentions, but Cameron never took school seriously until it was too late. Now, here he is: moderately successful, and too embarrassed to head back to college.
Entering the room against his better judgment, Cruise pays for his disobedience by finding Joey Melton calmly (suspiciously so) sitting, legs crossed like Sharon Stone in “Basic Instinct”, on a helpless folding chair. Sporting Bono Fly Shades, and a bath towel.
“I asked you, and I believe sincerely as well, to knock, Cruise.”
Melton shields the light from his eyes as Cruise flips on the juice, closing the door behind him. Joey was somebody Cruise never wanted to be alone with. Like walking home from work with a serial killer on the loose, in large groups you’re safer. Melton wasn’t a physical threat, but Cruise was already having nightmares about leaving his wife to smuggle North Korean midgets over the boarder, as part of a stipulation to a match the two lost.
“Sorry. Where are my manners when entering a storage room?” He gave the closet a once over. Elvis was born in a house not much bigger than this, but facing the former CSWA World Champion Cameron saw the irony. When the mighty fall, the walls close in about one hundred feet. “This is our locker room?”
Joey impatiently brushes Cameron’s question aside. “You got what I asked?”
Mercedes’ better half rummages through a plastic bag, pulling out small items. “Eye drops, headache powder, a liter of Tang, and a bag of 125 balloons.”
“Good man.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
And he was. Cruise’s biggest fault is refusing to grasp the ideal that some things are better left unsaid: A weakness that’s had him sleeping on the couch many a night in his marriage.
“Drug store balloons make better condoms, Cruise. I thought you kids were taught that in school now.
“Oh good,” Cameron offered excitedly, “I was worried you were learning how to make balloon animals. Silly me.”
“The room’s not much, but it’ll do. I don’t care for open spaces. And to be honest, once I got the heavy boxes out, the legroom doubled.”
Melton’s partner turned and pointed beyond the door, “So that mess in the hallway is your doing?”
Yes, but Melton be damned if he was the one to clean it up. “Speaking of which, did you see a box marked, ‘Radioactive materials?’”
This moment was making sense. Clearly, Joey had built a time machine. Cruise thought of playing the good solider, and reminding Melton to pack extra plutonium, but perhaps it best for them both if Joey not find his way back.
“Yes...”
“Great, be a lad and bring it back in here.”
The door swung open again, but he was stopped before making his way out.
“Wait. Did you ever talk to your sister about that thing we discussed?”
“She’s my wife! And we’re not swingers, Melton!”
Joey knew the odds were against the grain, but he had to ask. His sexual history is littered with hundreds of disappointments, but it’s the surprises that keep the man going. “Now, that’s a shame.”
“Marcus, you’re never going to get your nerves in check if you keep pacing around like you are.”
The voice of Lindsay Troy can be heard through Melton’s and Cameron’s side of the door, and it’s apparent that Beast is with her.
A strong arm pulls Cruise back in, and the door frantically shuts. “What’s with you?”
“It’s Troy. Hide!”
“What?”
Joey starts to barricade the door with a small metal shelf. The weight of it probably not strong enough to hold an intruder at bay, but in times of small crisis, it’s mental protection that matters most. The illusion of safety; the man knew it well.
“I don’t want her to see me like this. It’s bad luck.”
“You guys getting married or something?”
“Why?” Melton pushes the shelf away enthusiastically. “What have you heard?”
“I’ll be damned if I let him put his hands on you again, Lindz,” Beast’s deep, hardened voice is heard as well as the thuds of his boots on the tile. “I’ll be even damneder if I let him get another one over on me.”
The closet door quietly cracks, and Melton’s blue eye spies intently.
“Joey, it’s dark in here. You’re scaring me.”
“Quiet fool. I can’t hear Troy when you’re whining.”
“You need to chill out and relax, Marcus.” Troy’s voice is cool and soothing. “You’re naturally going to be worked up and your adrenaline’s going to be running full steam, but letting Christian see you like this is only going to add more fuel to his fire.”
“God, I know all this. I’m not at a sermon, Lindsay, so stop preaching to me like you’re a priest.”
The all-seeing eye retreats behind the closing door. “Level with me Cruise,” Melton started. “Is she dating anyone in the cast?”
A light goes on in Cameron’s head; that its twenty years too late, means little. “You joined EPW just to team with Troy. This has nothing to do with me, does it?”
“Of course I’m here to stalk Troy. Did you honestly think I came here for you? Pull your head out of your ass.
Cruise felt so used, and sadly not in a good way. Maybe the first chapter of his career hasn’t paved a way to the Hall Of Fame, but he doesn’t have to take this.
“I’m gone.”
Cameron reaches for the door, but Melton pulls him back. In utter aghast that he’d try to escape. “Are you crazy? I’m hung over and pale as a ghost. She thinks I’ve gone sober for her.”
Cammy shakes his head. There are brighter tools in the shed, but he can see through Melton’s BS.
“It’s in a contract I signed last month. Thanks to Randalls’ last visit. I could be kicked out of the house!”
Immediately, Cameron understands. And the ramifications of a homeless Melton scare the hell out of him. If Troy gives Joey the boot, tag-team partners by law have to bear the load.
“What can I do to help?”
“Ferret out there quietly and get the box. There’s no time to wait. We’re on in twenty minutes.” Melton pats Cruise on the back. The future of the western world may not rest on Cruise retrieving a box undetected, but Melton’s mooching ways do. “But remember mums the word.”
If he could get out the door, there was an eighty/twenty chance he’d head for the hills never to come back. Find Mercedes and tell her he wants to go back to school. Follow in the footsteps of Noah Wylie. Screw practicing medicine, Cruise would major in Drama and intern at Warner Brothers Studio.
“Mums.”
Cameron nods exhaustedly. “Mums.”
“You don’t need to get snippy with me Marcus, I’m just trying to help.”
Troy’s interrupted by a body dragging a cardboard box back into an open storage room. She catches a glimpse of Cameron Cruise before the door shuts behind him, and with an exasperated glare at Beast she slowly walks off down the hall toward where Cruise disappeared.
Joey shuts the door, and watches as Cruise cuts into the tape wielding the box shut. “Good work. Did she ask about me?” Before his partner could answer, Melton slaps his left hand over Cameron’s mouth. “No, don’t tell me I don’t want to know.”
Cruise cracks the box open, throwing silence in front of Melton to see if it slows him. He fishes into the box briefly before pulling out two pairs of black tights, and sequin robes, with “The Cameron Cruise Project” engraved on the backs.
“Gracious me.”
“That’s the last of my savings right there.” Melton beams like a virgin who’s just bedded the hot neighborhood mother. “Sweet, huh?”
Matching outfits? Cruise has seen this before, and it didn’t end well.
“Single white female...”
“What?”
“Nothing. I thought we agreed on “The Tandem Complex.”
Joey sits beside Cruise, leaning into his ear like a father preparing to march out a life lesson. “Naming the band is the most important thing. It sets the mood and marketability.” Melton rubs Cruise’s hair playfully. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t leave that up to you.”
“No,” Cameron shrugged sarcastically, “why would I take that the wrong way?”
“Yo, Cam,” Lindsay Troy asks, rapping on the door. “Why the hell are you in a storage closet?”
Melton and Cruise scramble around the room, tripping over themselves.
“CAMERON!”
The storage room door slowly cracks open. Cruise pokes his head out. Normal day at the office; show Troy your poker face in preparation for Hollywood auditions.
“Can I help you?”
“Um. No, but you can tell me what’s up with your new crib. I didn’t know Janitor Closets were your thing.”
A faint whispering reaches Cameron’s right ear. “I don’t like open spaces.”
“I don’t care for open spaces.”
Troy’s right eyebrow lifts in questioning. “Right...”
An awkward pause settles between them. Cruise is softly instructed to break it.
“You look great tonight.”
“Oh?” Troy’s taken aback.
“You’re hair is different. If I’m not mistaken. I like.”
A grin from the Tampa native. “Thanks, I think...”
“No problem.”
Troy’s nose winkles, and on instinct she moves to look past Cameron, but Cruise keeps his head in front of hers.
“You and Beast having problems?”
“Eh,” A shrug. “He’s got a big match tonight, nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Good,” Melton says louder than needed.
“Excuse me?”
Cruise coughs. “I said food. You should eat; get your mind off things.
“Okay I’m not talking to you like this.” Lindsay pushes past Cruise, stepping into the room. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Cruise answers defensively, eying the room with Troy. Magically Melton’s disappeared.
“Could Mercedes not finagle with Ryan enough to get you a better locker room?” Troy’s foot hits something on the floor. She looks down and sees a robe with “The Cameron Cruise Project” on the back.
“Oh God...this is Melton’s doing isn’t it?”
Busted. Quick Cameron, think of something...
“Yeah well...he wanted ‘The Tandem Complex’ for a name but...heh, I figured I needed to get my name out there so he reluctantly agreed to the new name.”
A blatant lie. But, Troy bought it.
“Whoring yourself out to the general public? I thought you better than that, Cameron. That’s something Joey would do. Speaking of the Sexual All-American, I haven’t seen him around tonight. He’s not nipping at my heels like he normally is.”
“He said he was running a bit late.”
“There’s a shock,” Troy snorts. “I leave him to go do my own thing and he’s lost without my penchant for scheduling and structure. Although I can’t say that I’m surprised he’s turned up here. He thinks of me as some sort of conquest, after all.”
She pauses. “Ah well. I’d better be getting back to Marcus or else I’m going to feel the RAHHR~! Heh. Good luck tonight and all that.” As the door shuts, Melton’s body reappears from behind its shadow. “I thought I was done for.”
“Is this like a nightly thing with you?”
“Is what?”
“Being so damn weird.” Just when you think you’ve seen it all, you’re teamed with Melton against your will. He’ll have stories to tell when he’s older, but right now Cruise doesn’t consider that a reward.
“Come on, try on the dress. We’ll discuss the night’s strategy as you change.”
“You mean like last week’s? Where I got beat on for fifteen minutes until tagging so you could make the dramatic save and play the hero?”
Joey smiles, glowing like the secrets of the universe have just been revealed. “I knew that was intentional! And here I thought you just sucked.” Melton tosses an arm over Cameron’s shoulders. “Cammy this could the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Cruise’s shoulders heave as his head bows. Melton throws a robe on, before noticing Cameron’s disposition.
“Cammy, you cryin’?”