[FADEIN: A grainy black and white scene. It is similar an early 1920’s no-sound film. The camera focuses on a door.
July 16, 2007.
POST-WrestleSTOCK Day ONE.
Giants Stadium, East Rutherford, New Jersey.
CUEUP: Cheesy soundtrack music you’d find in one of those old films without dialogue. The camera focuses in on the nameplate above the door:
“JOEY MELTON”
CUTTO: A corner shot of the hallway. Coming down the hallway is one of the maids, pushing a large laundry cart. She stops at the door and knocks. She then, exaggeratingly, places her ear to the door before turning the handle and pushing the laundry cart in.
CUTTO: Inside the lockerroom. We see steam emanating from the door to the right, presumably the showers where Joey Melton is showering.
“Mr. Melton must be in the shower,” says the maid through subtitles. “I’ll just grab his wrestling attire and return them when they’re nice and clean.”
The cleaning lady waltzes over to a duffle bag on the bench. She reaches high in the air before planting her hand in the bag. She pulls it out and places the ring tights in the laundry cart. She then reaches in again and this time pulls out Melton’s jockstrap. She chuckles to herself before also tossing it on top of the laundry cart.
“Now off to the washing machine!” appears on the bottom of the screen as the scene goes completely white before settling back down to its grainy black and white normalcy.
The maid goes to the far side of the cart and begins pushing it. She gets towards the door.
CUTTO: Closeup of the maid’s face as her expression turns from one of happiness to one of shock and horror!
CUTTO: A full room shot as the laundry pile begins to rumble.
CUTTO: The laundry tumbling to the floor.
CUTTO: The maid covering her eyes.
CUTTO: Beau Michaels popping out from underneath all the clothes, his teeth firmly clenched around the front of the Joey Melton jockstrap. He hops out of the laundry cart, and wipes the sweat from his brow.
CUTTO: The maid taking her hands from her eyes and looking on astonished at Michaels.
CUTTO: Michaels taking the jockstrap from his teeth.
“Mmm salty!” the subtitles ring out.
CUTTO: A shot from the doorway. Beau Michaels turns and begins approaching it. As Michaels gets closer and closer, the view is obstructed until..
CLIP. The film roll ends as we see some of the negatives roll past until the screen turns entirely white.]
[CUTTO: Backstage, where Sam Baxter is spotted near a door leading out of the arena.]
BAXTER: "I am indeed here once again, at WrestleStock 2007! It seems some of the Superstars from both promotions are coming through these doors, sneaky as they're not far from the locker rooms! I'm just happy to have the chance to catch a word with a few of them, backstage at this joint Pay-Per-View event! Oh wait, here comes one now! Who will it be?"
[The door slides open and in walks Larry Tact, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a pair of grey suits and slacks with a royal blue dress shirt underneath. He waves off Baxter, who approaches, but the reporter is persistent.]
BAXTER: "Larry Tact! This is a huge event for both promotions! Just a word from you about what this match means to you tonight..."
[Tact pauses and tilts his head, then turns to Baxter.]
TACT: "Anyone watching the television this past week KNOWS what this match is for me. Anybody who's seen me in New ERA of Wrestling since I've returned know what this match means to me, Baxter. It's the same thing every match has meant to me, in the big picture, since I began wrestling in NEW."
BAXTER: "Oooh! The suspense is killing me!"
[Tact looks at him, for a moment speechless. Then he shakes his head, and slaps Sam Baxter on the back, causing the NEW interviewer to lose his balance for a moment, and start wheezing from the impact.]
TACT: "The title, Baxter! It's all about the World Heavyweight Championship. Anyone who isn't in it for the World Title, in the end... they either accept their place in whatever niche they've found themselves in this sport... or they're wasting their time. But let me tell you, Baxter, I don't waste time. I won't sacrifice myself for this sport for nothing. I'm taking some things, and I'll be leaving something, too."
[Regaining his composure, Sam Baxter is right back on top of things.]
BAXTER: "You want to take the title, of course!"
TACT: "No doubt about that. And I won't be waiting until I'm done and on the way out. I'm taking the NEW World Heavyweight Championship, to strap around MY waist once again, and I don't intend on stopping until I have it... TONIGHT."
BAXTER: "What do you mean, though, when you say you'll be leaving something?"
TACT: "That's not just about tonght, Sammy, it's about the future to come, as well. When I leave, I won't be needing any monument. I won't be needing a tribute. I'll have left all I need to be remembered. Because I will leave my legacy... and it will be that of a legend. But for now the legend, and the legacy, continue being written, with tonight. With WrestleStock. With six men, dueling ladders, and two victories to be had. But there's only one victory I'm interested in. It's made of the finest gold, and is the sweetest prize of New ERA you ever will lay your hands upon. And tonight, Sammy, on this grand stage we've been presented with.... that sweetest prize will be mine again.
And do you know what that is?"
[Baxter looks a bit puzzled, trying to think of an answer.]
BAXTER: "I... I'm not sure..... what is it?"
TACT: "It's quite simply.... TACTILIZING!"
[Tact flashes a smile, slaps Sam Baxter on the back again, and walks off.]
A drum beat echoes in the darkness, an unfamiliar but driving beat from a dark screen. Suddenly, faces emerge – a collage of faces all over the screen one by one highlighted as the downbeat hits…
“Triple X” Sean Stevens…
Mr. Entertainment…
JA…
“The Future” Rex Reynolds…
James Irish…
MWG…
Chaos…
Bored of Edukashun…
Nakita Dahaka…
Frankie Scott…
Peter File…
Class Act…
Jason Payne…
Cameron Cruise…
The Proletariat…
HAL…
Beast…
Anarky…
Tina Davis…
Richard Farnswirth & Adam Benjamin, The Highland Park Social Club…
Karl “The Dragon” Brown & Foxx, side by side…
Cat’s Meow…
Karla Starr…
John Doe…
Then suddenly the beat picks up, double time…
Jonathan Marx…Joey Melton…The Phantom Republican…Rocko Daymon…Shawn Hart…”Queen of the Ring” Lindsay Troy…Jean Rabesque…
And finally…on one hard downbeat…a final shot of Dan Ryan, standing with his arms crossed next to Marcus Laroque, who smiles and glances over at Ryan before rubbing his hands together…
The faces on the screen all light up finally and we cut to the logo, baby…
[Wide shot of the crowd as it pans back and forth with only the chants of “WRESTLE-STOCK! WRESTLE-STOCK!” echoing through the arena. Then….we hear the voices of the EPW announce team….]
DT: Welcome everyone to night number two of Wrestlestock 2007!! No, this isn’t the NFW West…..this is EPW and NEW….take two!!
[“Zero” by Smashing Pumpkins blares over the speakers and the crowd erupts to their feet in cheers.]
DT: And it looks likes we’re gonna start things off with a bang!!
[Moments later, former owner Dan Ryan appears on the stage and then, eliciting a second huge ovation…”The Queen of the Ring” Lindsay Troy comes out beside him and stands there, tensed and glaring out into the crowd…but seemingly not looking at anything. Ryan looks over and makes a motion toward the ring and she follows…and they climb in.
Ryan takes a microphone from the ring crew and hands it over to Lindsay, who lifts it to speak as the crowd dies down.]
TROY: Well….I guess two can play the "Reveal Our Marriage Was a Sham" game, Joey.
Congrats. You've swerved me on an angle that pales in comparison to the ones I've done, taken my title to validate your professional existence and did to me what I've done to you. Except I didn't need to play the "twin sibling" card to shock the world and I didn't need to live my entire life as a lie.
Did your dog eat your homework too?
And while we're on the subject, is Teri even your real sister? Or did Miles take the idea of hiring family from you and she's been pretending all along?
DM: That's a question I'd like answered.
MN: Seriously, are we running a laundromat here? Who gave the word to air this much dirty laundry?
DT: Oh PLEASE, Melton's made a CAREER out of airing dirty laundry. The fact he took a brief hiatus from it nearly made the world cave in on itself, I'm sure.
MN: Blah blah blah. He won the title last night, can't we all just move along now?
DM: Considering the absolutely cheap way he won it after Troy held it for over two years no, I don't think we can all just "move along," Neely.
[Troy starts to pace inside the ring. Nay...Troy starts to stalk...]
TROY: You never changed, Joey. I stood handcuffed to the ring and listened to you give that "But I chaaaaaaaaaaaaanged" speech when you never did. You never did. You watched the Food Network on my TV for hours on end and you still f*cking burned your frozen organic waffles on a near-morning basis. You ran off on weekend excursions with the Cruise's and then joked about threesomes and foursomes with Mercedes and the plastic Island bimbos you just happened to meet at the Tiki Bar. You rode my coattails to
the spotlight but still wanted to chase them long after they shut off for the night.
Or maybe that wasn't you. Maybe that was your brother.
If I turned our marriage into a media circus, you're the one reaping the benefits now.
Congrats.
You've lied to me for nearly five years. Your never knowing who your father was because you were the product of your mother's one night stand with a drunken sailor. Your running bookie numbers in Queens. Your marrying Alison with the Long Tail to get a taste of the good life. Paralysis wasn't a taboo subject for you, but maybe that never happened either. Yet you still think you played the good husband? Right. You've been in bed with someone else for longer than you've known me.
We were supposed to be in on the Windham Plan together, except you thought that gave you carte blanche to do whatever the hell you wanted. And let's not mince words, the Windham Plan was your idea to teach the little ****heel a lesson for ripping off your gimmick. And no, I never had to agree, but Windham needed to be on the receiving end of humiliation for once and you and I were partners in crime.
But maybe we weren't.
Maybe it was me and your brother all along.
You've made this into a bigger farce then I could ever hope for. You're a better spin doctor than Dick Cheney. But I'll tell you one thing that I'll make sure you bear witness to, even if I end my career because of it.
I always rise above. And this time, there's not a damn thing that Irishred or Beast can do about it. Rematch clause, kids, whenever I want to take it. At Russian Roulette, Joey, the pay-per-view that I made famous, you're going to have the shortest title reign of your LIFE.
Then you'll know what William Congreve meant when he wrote, "Heaven Hath no rage like a love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." I'm sure you and Twinny touched upon that in your English Lit classes.
You're going to watch me make it into a ****ing art form.
[The crowd roars its approval and Troy nods in acknowledgement. Ryan raises his own mic up now……
….that is….until we hear the familiar chanting of the monks….leading into “Figure You Out” by Nickelback.]
MN: Well, if it’s a crappy Canadian band, it must be THE crappy Canadian wrestler….
[Sure enough…..another loud crowd pop announces the arrival of the representative of the Irishred regime and former World Champion…..BEAST.]
MN: …Big loafy.
[Beast makes a cutting motion with his hand, the music dies and Beast brings the mic in his other hand to his mouth.]
BEAST: Hold on just a tick there, you two. Did I hear you say rematch clause, Lindsay?? Did you say rematch clause? You know, that’s funny. I recall losing that belt to you under very similarly confusing circumstances, and yet …I wasn’t able to take an immediate rematch. Hmm, I wonder why that was….
OH YEAH…
[Beast juts a finger toward Ryan.]
Because YOU decided to toy with me and drag it out for a year. That’s why.
[Crowd boos]
Now the other thing which….to be fair is the most important issue here…is that Sean Stevens rightfully earned his shot at Russian Roulette by defeating JA last night.
RYAN: This is true….. [Ryan glances back at Troy, who is staring daggers in Beast….Ryan looks at her a moment, then resolutely turns back to Beast] …but I’m not budging on this, Marcus. She’s getting the rematch.
BEAST: Well, if it were only so easy. See, we….Mr. Irishred and myself have to sign off on the main event…and well, we’re not signing off on that.
[boos.]
RYAN: [visibly annoyed – meanwhile Lindsay Troy can hardly contain herself. She wants to hit something….anything.] Okay fine….fine, Marcus. Then how about…a compromise. How about Joey Melton defends the title….against Sean Stevens… [Lindsay shoots Dan a look] ….AND…against Lindsay Troy in a three way dance?
[Troy loosens up a bit (**no jokes**)…and Beast narrows his eyes a bit in thought.]
RYAN: That way….everybody wins.
BEAST: You know what? You’ve got it.
[Loud cheers]
DT: WHOA! What an main event for Russian Roulette!!
DM: That show just got a lot more interesting.
BEAST: But I’ve got one condition….if we agree to sign off on this match….Lindsay…you leave the arena….right NOW.
DT: What?? Why??
BEAST: Joey Melton has the tag team titles to defend, and I don’t want you here to ruin it.
[Ryan begins to speak, but Troy RIPS the mic out of his hands…]
TROY: YOU GOT IT!!
[Ryan, surprised by the veracity of her comments stares at her. Troy slams the mic down and slips out of the ring, stalking up the ramp toward Beast who prepares for an attack. Instead, she stomps past him and through the curtain without a word. Ryan is left staring after her from the ring and Beast looks up at Ryan in the ring, smirks a bit and shrugs.]
DT: What a development! And Lindsay is gone for the night!
[As the participants in the first segment slowly make it back through the curtain, the shot switches to the EPW broadcast table.]