Let the bodies hit the floor
bat'tle n 1 a fight between armies, fleets, etc.
2 a struggle: ---vb to fight or struggle
The very word, battle, conjuring up images of hard-fought wars, one side against the other. Swords swinging and slashing, guns being fired, bullets flying through the air like rain and striking down the opposition. Generals commanding their troops to the frontline, some to their deaths, some to glory. Battles that rage for several years, such as the two World Wars where most of Europe was engaged in war against one another with the US later joining in to fight the Japanese off. The Gulf wars in the Middle East against Saddam Hussein and his troops and supporters, the second of which saw him finally caught for his tyrannical despotism. Some wars last a hundred years or more, such as during the Han Dynasty and Three Kingdoms periods in ancient China, the Han forces teaming to put down the Yellow Turban rebels before engaging against one another, Shu army commandeering one territory, the Wu army in the south and the Wei to the East, the war finally ending in 215 AD with Sun Quan taking over his father's armies and control of the Wu forces and ultimately becoming ruler of China. Another battle is set to take place soon, the chosen battleground: Destiny. Blood will be spilled just like in all battles and wars throughout history, the victor being crowned champion of the Bodycount match and gaining the glory that comes with it.
November 2006
The very words stirred up emotions for him that he hadn't felt for years. The phone call from his agent had started it, one moment he's sitting alone pondering as he glanced over the lyrics sheets he'd written over the last few weeks in preparation for the new Havok Rising album, not expecting a call from anyone for a few hours yet. The next, the solitude and quietness had been shattered by a simple phone call, his ringtone blasting out the chorus to Pantera's classic anthem "Walk", urging him to pick it up and see who was on the other end. The name he recognised meant either he'd lost the TV deal he'd made with HBO for an eight episode run of a comedy series he'd co-written with the other half of his other musical project, a comedy duo, had been cancelled for the time being or there was some other business to attend to. He gingerly picked up the phone, looking at the display for a few moments before pressing a button, accepting the call. The familiar voice on the other end, full of cheer and goodwill, let him know that this was good news although what could be good news to some is bad news to others.
"Dazz, I just got you something, it's not the biggest or most important thing in the world compared to what you're capable of but it's great nonetheless."
Something unimportant yet great? Either he'd lost his mind or he had a concussion.
"What is it then?"
He didn't know what to expect to hear so sat in silence listening closely to what was about to be said, ensuring he wouldn't get confused.
"It's the Slamfest battle royal. Sure, I know, you have better things to aim for and could get them in your own company but think about it, this could be great for your career."
This sentence actually made him smile, a knowing glance to his achievements room giving him images of another added to it. He could definitely make room for another trophy.
"It sounds great, the old me would've turned it down but I want this."
The gentle laughter from his agent let him know that on the other end of the line, someone was pleased with this decision to go ahead with it.
"I knew you'd come round. I mean, you been in two of these events right? First time was two years ago in that double stipulation match against Violent A for the Cruiserweight title, first time you won that championship. Last year you was a referee for the Violent A/Souless match. Now you got the opportunity of a lifetime to beat some new faces.......in fact they're all new faces I think, I've never heard of any of these people."
"Fuel beat me on a technicality for the LCW Hardcore title this year, Tanya Black I know of but haven't seen much of her to really take notice, not that watchable but people like an underdog right?"
"Guess that's true, listen, remind me of Slamfest, refresh my memory, all I remember are you winning a match and you being a referee, not that specifics."
He sighed, knowing full well the car accident his agent had been in plus rapid aging had detoriated his memory somewhat.
"Ok sure, Slamfest 2004 was the start of my feud with Violent A after most of the year taunting each other from afar. He was Cruiserweight champ, I'd come off a World title loss against Chris Champion and we decided to have a double stipulation match, I picked an Exploding Cage match, he picked for us to have 10 weapons of our choice hanging in the cage. So we battled, I beat him, powerbombed him into the cage so it exploded, won my first and only Cruiserweight title then had Phil King powerbomb 'A from the roof through some tables. Our feud never continued after that for some reason."
"Right, it's coming back to me now. What about last year?"
"Pretty much was asked to be referee in a match involving Violent A and Souless, pity it wasn't a continuation of our feud but still, wasn't that big a deal, I don't even remember who won. Either way for once I'm gonna be in the battle royal then huh?"
They share a laugh and his agent speaks again.
"So, could be your first big trophy in years, looking forward to it?"
"Dude you know I am, should be fun, another match back here, another trophy, another win to help gain back the respect that people haven't shown me in NLCW since I was World champion the first time. Could be great for me and great for the company."
"Anything you do is great for that company, they need you even if you don't need them."
"Woah, woah, don't say that, sure I may not seem to need them but by all counts I do, I got two more championships to win and a few more World title reigns in me plus it feels good to wrestle again."
"If you're absolutely sure then I'll book it."
The very words made him stand to attention as he paced around the chair he was sitting on.
"WHAT?! You mean you said all that about me being in the match and you haven't even guaranteed me a place in it?!"
"Oh, sorry, did I say you was in it? I meant you'd be in it if you wanted."
"Well of course I want in, get to go for something I haven't won yet. This time next year I'll be a Grand Slam champ and World Heavyweight champion so might as well now while I got the chance."
"There we go, that's the spirit. Just gotta get out there and take on a few people then walk out as the only man left standing in the ring, once you're done that's half the battle won and you just gotta face and defeat that Big D guy to become this year's Slamfest champion. Sounds simple enough to me."
"Well yes it is simple until you get in there, remember I got all these other people in the ring with me and they'll wanna eliminate me first as the biggest threat in the match so I gotta try and hide out and take my chances to try and win this thing."
The thoughts running through his head at this point were of potential victory and the glory that came with it. Sure it may not be the World title but that comes later, for now he'll do as he'd done early in his career and start at the bottom rather than do what he has the past 5 years and be pushed into the main events early on due to management seeing his talent. Anything could happen in such an environment, he knew it and had experienced it many times before in his career, half the battle royals he lost, the other half he won but all were dangerous and opportunity could slip from his grasp at any given chance, the only way of ensuring safety was to last long enough for the end of the match to happen and hope he was the only one left in the ring at the end of it. Not an easy task which is why matches of this type are dangerous. Knowing how NLCW works and the people in it, it'll be even more dangerous with so many young, hungry and needy people thrown in there with him. The fact he hadn't been in a battle royal himself since the NLCW pay per view event held in January 2004, his in ring debut for the company aswell as the debut of Justice and he didn't bode well in that match for the vacant PPV championship........
January 2004
"I'm here, so what's the plan?"
Kid Chaos, his younger brother and one of the biggest and most well known names in cruiserweight wrestling had entered the room sporting one of his old pieces of merchandise from his stint in Xplosion Championship Wrestling and jeans, his normally long hair now cut short and a goatee growing on his chin as he looked towards his brother, a man who taught him so much about the business that he'd started training people for a living in the old Chaotic Gym which his brother and longtime tag team partner Violent A had purchased in 2002 while in the Revolution Wrestling Federation. His brother was sat on the couch watching an old tape of his tag team match from the twiztid Wrestling organisation, Chaos A.D. taking on two members of The Odinist's Fellowship, The Odinist and Christian Cage, from October 2002. This match was dubbed a lesson in great tag team wrestling and was used by Chaos A.D. as a source of inspiration for their matches, the ring psychology, technical prowess plus the fact that the promos that aired before the match were incredible: for the first time in their careers Chaos A.D. had met someone who could match their skills at parody and sarcasm in the shape of the "Suntan Superman", "The Paragon", "C2", whatever he chose to call himself on any given week. While Chaos A.D. dressed as their opponents and made fun of them on a regular basis, something they'd done for years, Cage had the ability to do the same and hire actors to help him out, causing the intensity and hilarity going into this masterpiece of tag team wrestling something which hasn't been seen since in the business anywhere. Kid watched the screen as he saw his brother get locked in C2's signature move, the CDT, tapping out as The Odinist had Violent A down on the floor and the screen turned to static, white noise echoing throughout the room for a few seconds before the TV was switched off.
"The plan? Didn't I tell you?"
Kid rolled his eyes knowing full well his brother had been so engrossed in watching wrestling tapes lately that his memory was like a sieve.
"No you didn't, you told me to come over because you had a plan."
"Oh, right. Well I got a call, seems this new company starting out, No Limits something or other, they have a battle royal for a Pay Per View championship which is vacant, only gets defended once a month and that's our debut match for the company."
"So what, we fight everyone off then one of us wins the belt?"
"No, I wanna win that but it can wait, here's the plan. We go in the company, they don't know we're brothers so what we'll do is, sometime in the match I'll give the signal, you eliminate me and I'll act pissed off then run in, Chaos Factor you to help get you eliminated......"
"Woah, wait a second, I don't wanna lose this."
"Dammit wait a second. I don't wanna lose either but if we don't win and cause each other's eliminations then act like we have a hatred soon after, end with a Loser Leaves Town match which you lose, a month later you appear back on the show with me as Chaos A.D. and that's when Violent A and Souless will debut for the company too, we can dominate this like all the others. Thoughts?"
Kid thought for a few seconds, wondering if this was a good idea then a smile spread across his face.
"Damn you really are a genius, I love it."
January 19th 2004
The two smiled as they got to the arena and changed for their match, staying away from each other to create the illusion, several guys in the locker room familiar to him: Ethan Andrews, Jason Stylez, Rob Thorn from his stint in RWF where Chaos A.D. formed in 1999. Other names he'd heard of like Lightning and The Big Weaze. Others he wasn't familiar with at all like the tag team of RAGE and Jack Frost, current Cruiserweight champion Rick Majors and many others. He noticed Kid Chaos across the room eyeing up the NLCW Cruiserweight championship belt, staring at it as if mentally picturing it around his waist. The look on his face said it all: he wanted to add that to his long list of Cruiserweight titles he'd won in his career. It was go time, all the new and recently signed talent had to go to the ring for the battle royal.....
The two stared at the TV screen a few days after the event, smiling as they saw their well laid plans coming to fruition. He rubbed his hands with glee while Kid scratched his head and folded his arms across his chest.
"Remarkable, we did it and no one knows a damn thing except us. This is great, once again your plan worked perfectly."
He smiled, of course he enjoyed the adulation and the positive feedback he constantly got from everyone in the business but it was flattering at times, he enjoyed it more than anything and craved it sometimes.
"I've been booked to face another legend, Eddie September, he's the Hardcore champ so this could be my first championship in this company and another legend added to my list of those who fall under my dominance."
"There's only one legend you won't ever beat and that's yourself."
The two share a laugh together as they know that statement was so true that anything to the contrary would be taken as nothing more than a joke. He had a plan formulating in his mind already.
"What if I win the Hardcore title? Our grudge match could be for that next month, Loser Leaves NLCW Hardcore championship match, make it that little more important."
February 20th 2004
The time of the event had drawn close, tonight was the night. NLCW Retribution which would pit Kid Chaos against his older brother who happened to also be the Hardcore champion, which was being defended tonight against Kid, and one half of the Tag Team champions along with Fallen Angelz co-member Jason Stylez. Only no one knew that Kid was his younger brother. The Cow Palace in San Francisco was jam packed for tonight's event, one notable sign in the crowd reading "Dazz and Stylez: San Fran loves you" as the camera panned across the crowd. Backstage, he sat in the Fallen Angelz locker room clutching the Hardcore championship, the Tag title next to him on the bench as Jason Stylez walked over to him.
"How's it hangin' champ? Ready to kick that kid's ass and make tonight belong to the Fallen Angelz?"
He looked up, spotting Stylez grinning at him, the other Tag championship over his shoulder and the World title around his waist.
"Sure thing, he'll find out why we're the most dominant group in wrestling."
He hated lying, the fact he had to stay things like that when he knew that Chaos A.D. were and will always be the most dominant in the history of the business made him feel guilty that he had to act this way as part of his plot to allow people to think he was a rookie although seeing as he was world renowned already by this point he was surprised the amount of people who thought he was just a rookie. A record seventeen World Heavyweight championships by this point in his career and a small minority still didn't know who he was. This was February 2004 though, he had the rest of the year and next month, the plan would culminate in the biggest return in history.
roy'al adj 1 having to do with a king or queen
2 splendid, kingly
A golden crown embedded in the finest of jewels, velvet cloak, jewel-encrusted fineries and servants doing their utmost to their beloved ruler. The leader of a people, a population in worship and under that person's jurisdiction, laws and rules made and enforced for the people. The sight of such a royal person brings out goodwill and a sense of astounding accomplishment just being in the presence of such a person. Royalty brings out the best in everybody who bears witness to their glory, their clothes adorned with the finest of stitching, jewels glistening and sparkling, their personal trophies and a testament to their crowning achievment.
"You ok? Look a little lost there, don't worry, you won't lose."
He'd been silent a little too long, Stylez seemed genuinely concerned that he thought he was going to lose. Impossible. He never loses unless by fluke or, on rare occasions, being outmatched but the outcome of tonight's contest was planned a month ago between himself and his opponent, had to keep up the pretense though.
"No it's fine, I was just thinking about where we could go after the show, there's a great strip club down the road apparently."
Stylez laughed and put the Tag belt down.
"Not sure Rick's into that kinda thing, unless the strippers were male."
The two laughed as Majors looked up at the mention of his name.
"I don't need to lower myself to that level of woman, I'm sophisticated and Canadian, I'm more into the intellectual type."
"You forgetting Dazz is from the same city as you?"
"No but like I said, I'm sophisticated."
The three shared a smile amongst each other, the ranks showing solidarity despite the differences between them and fighting for one common cause, to be at the forefront of NLCW together as one unit. Deep down inside though he was formulating his plan, trying to mentally picture the best moment to bring it to fruition. Some day soon, it'll happen but right now, his mind was on the match planned out in detail......
"Went great to you or was it just me?"
He smiled as Kid sat on the other end of the line, speaking down the phone excitedly, his voice quivering with impatience at having to wait another month to return as part of Chaos A.D. and dominate once again in a new promotion.
"Yeah it was great, looked like we really wanted to kill each other and the guys congratulated me on winning against you, they thought it was real which was the plan."
He smiled to himself in the quietude of his hotel room, knowing full well that only he and his younger brother know of their plan and that it all started with the simple premise of a battle royal. In just a few weeks time he'd have the last laugh but for now he has to wait and ponder the next movements he's going to make to be sure the watertight plan could be carried through quickly and easily with no slip ups and no need to change radically midway through. He was a master of manipulation and mind games, also had the ability to adapt long thought out plans to any given situation, things which Tommy Chaos had brought out of him years before and helped get him to legendary status yet he'd only just turned 27 years old a week ago. Nothing could stop him and his ideas, he had something in mind for that World championship Stylez had around his waist but that will come soon enough, for now the Chaos A.D. reunion was going to take precedent over anything else as they decimated the opposition again and once more ran riot in a new company until they were in control. He could see it now, himself as World and Tag champ, Violent A as Tag and TV champion, Souless as the PPV champion and Kid Chaos holding the Cruiserweight title. There were only four in the group and those were the only championships in the company but it wouldn't matter, they'd all belong to Chaos A.D. within a month or two. All this and the cause of it all, the thing that started all of this, was just a simple battle royal.
July 2007
A man wearing a white sweater and blue denim jeans, a luchador style mask covering the majority of his head, rises from his seat amongst the many thousands of fans in attendance, some still cheering on the name of Joel Kurtiss while others talking about the fantastic match between Blackheart Blaine, Matt Caine and Spiker, arguing with another group over why that was better than the match involving Devon D'Andre and Alex Kennedy. The man in the mask just smiled at this, enjoying the fact that these people loved the show so much they’re keen to debate their opinions readily with total strangers, united in one thing: their devotion to the people who entertained them over the last few hours.
Squeezing past the row of people to make a hasty escape, apologizing along the way, he finally made it to the end of the row of seats and onto the steps leading to the exits, striding up them in no rush to make it out, watching as parents took their children to the parking lot area, wanting to get them to bed for the next day’s schooling. The majority of fans walked through sets of double doors, escaping to the warm night air, freedom in their sights as a current of joy and excitement still carries them. The masked man meanwhile heads in the opposite direction, walking towards a set of guards standing at one end of a hallway in front of a door, showing these men both his ID and his pass, watching as they check carefully then look under his mask to prove this isn’t identity theft, finally stepping aside and opening the door for him as he thanks them and steps through to a whole different world although still similar in many ways to the previous hallway he was standing in only a moment ago.
Like the previous hallway, this new one was busy, men and women walking to and fro, some with sheets on paper in hand, others in suits, some were the very men that entertained the crowd not so long ago, still in their wrestling gear, one or two holding ice packs to their bodies. The man scoured the hallway for a hint of recognition, spotting someone he once worked with for a month or so, now carrying the Universal championship in his hand and talking to a bald man with a dark goatee. Then the instant recognition kicked in for a second time, the masked man’s eyes coming to rest upon an olive skinned man with short black hair wearing a dress shirt and pants topped off with a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. A smile showed under the mask as he walked towards the man in the suit, putting on a false accent.
MASKED MAN: Excuse me sir.
The man in the sunglasses turned on his heel, looking at the masked man and his sweater, watching as the masked man winked and smiled, handing him his ID quickly so nobody else could see. After inspecting it, he was beckoned into an office, a plaque on the door stating the name of this smartly dressed man: CHRISTIAN CONNOLLY
Christian walked in first, followed by the masked man who shut the door behind him, Connolly locking it from the inside then turning to his masked companion.
C2: Don’t worry, it’s just for security reasons.
MASKED MAN: It better be, I don’t want another false report from Meltzer saying I’m dating you next.
The two laugh and Connolly sits at a desk, the masked man taking the seat opposite and reaching behind his head, fiddling with the string until the mask finally came loose and he could take it off, revealing himself to be the Messiah of Metal himself, Dazz.
DAZZ: Great show, I loved it, Donovan Midas and Christopher Titan really put on an amazing match.
C2: Thanks for coming, what’s with the mask?
DAZZ: Same reason you locked the door, stop anybody recognizing me here so it keeps my appearance a total surprise next Sunday.
C2: Ahh, yeah, good thinking. So, you ready then?
Dazz laughs and smiles, rubbing his face with his hands.
DAZZ: Hell yeah I’m ready, looking forward to it, my first ICE show ever and damn, what a debut.
C2: Debut as in there’ll be more of you here?
DAZZ: Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly, just the one night, if I win though, never know. Even if I don’t win, could be something worth looking into in future.
C2: Well here’s hoping, always wanted to be your boss for once instead of the other way round.
DAZZ: Long as you’re biased towards me for being a fellow Canadian.
The two laugh as Connolly shakes his head.
C2: Sorry pal, no can do. You can still give me money though if you like. Cash only, in American.
The two longtime friends and rivals share a laugh as we fade to black while the two look at a contract on Christian’s desk…..
Sitting in his black armchair, the soft feel of this fine hand crafted seat under his fingertips as he rests his arms against the rests, Dazz sat with silence hanging in the air, surrounding him like a heavy mist while he pondered. Deep thoughts running through his mind like fish in a vast lake…..how would the ICE fans take to him being a part of one of their pay per view events? How would the ICE roster take to it, would they target him instantly as an outsider, eliminate him first to keep the prize only for the regular locker room? What if he won? Would the roster try to make management rescind the prize from his grasp and award it only to one of them through some sort of contest, make his victory null and void right there, take away something he’s worked his ass off for all month, going to all that trouble to keep his secret visit to last week’s Throwdown from the ICE competitors? He worried about it, wanting to add another accomplishment to his constantly growing resume while also getting to compete finally against guys like Chris Jacobs, Kris Keebler and Spiker amongst others. In fact, with Jacobs having returned after being away for most of the year and being the first to throw his name into the hat for this contest, he not only gained the match even more credibility than it already had, it also meant that a big name star had made himself a target for everybody else. Nothing could come to mind though, not at the moment anyway, that was the worst thing. Usually ideas would be bubbling away and fighting to grab his attention but right now he was just feeling tired and his mind was hurting from all this time thinking. He sat back in the chair, finding a comfortable position before leaning the back of his head against the chair and allowing his eyelids to close, his eyes getting a short respite as he slowly drifted off into the dark void of slumberland.
Finding himself wearing a white shirt and black pants in a room that looked very much like a school classroom, seated on a wooden chair. Looking around he saw familiar people: on the other side of the room sitting down was Joel Kurtiss; nearby, Spiker with his multicoloured hair; the Eastern legend Masaharu Tanabashi also looking around at his surroundings; some seated in the room were even wearing all black clothes and black masks with question marks over the heads. The door opened as Christian Connolly, AC Botts and Gemini Reznor enter the room, standing before the group of ICE superstars, mystery people and the Messiah of Metal, surveying the many faces and masks.
GEMINI: Now, you’re all here because we have a mission for you all. Each of you has been hand picked to take part in something named Bodycount. Now, the rules are simple, you just have to eliminate each other by any means necessary until only one remains standing who will be declared the winner. Each one of you has a device strapped around your necks, if you attempt to remove it or leave the boundaries of the island you’re currently on, it will detonate.
BOTTS: Also bear in mind each device has a tag, pull it and a timer will countdown to your extinction. Oh and you also only have 48 hours to eliminate everybody else and make yourselves the winner, if the time passes and we have more than one person left, we’ll blow the devices. Good luck ladies and gentlemen.
With that he smiled, opening the door and watching as they all rose from their seats, walking out in single file, being given weapons on their way out. Gemini watched as Dazz, the only unfamiliar face amongst those unmasked, got to the doorway next, stopping him and giving a smile before handing him a carton of milk. Dazz looked at it in confusion but before the question on his mind could pass his lips, he was hounded outside into the night, the building behind him as those already handed weapons ran into the bushes and down the roads, disappearing from view. There was nothing he could do, no escape, only chance of making it and proving himself to whoever brought him here was to be the sole survivor. Running towards the road with carton of milk in hand wondering what to do with it, a hand yanked him into the bushes, looking to see the face of Kris Keebler staring at him.
KEEBLER: Shall we stick together, try to survive and get out of here while everyone else dies?
The idea was both great and disturbing. He wanted them to survive to the end but that would mean one had to die regardless as the game wouldn’t end until there was only one left standing. Still, better to accept than try to go it alone, he might have more chance of lasting.
DAZZ: Sure, why not.
They shook hands, Dazz noting the bag of flour in Keebler’s hand as they walked into the darkness. A few hours passed as they ran, hiding in the undergrowth or behind trees or walls as the sounds of other people or screams of agony pierced the air. Once the sounds had gone they checked carefully before emerging from their hiding place and continuing to try to outlast all the others like a crazed version of Survivor on steroids. Dawn broke, the rising sun casting an orangey-red light on the world, basking it in its glow like a homely and comfortable fireplace in a cosy sitting room. Dazz and Keebler sat in the growing morning light, feeling hungry, thirsty and tired but not wanting to move to a place where they could be easily found and killed. Slipping through the trees they came to a pier, waves gently ebbing then crashing back against the stone walls while the wood beneath their feet looked worn but sturdy.Boats sailed by on the horizon but the genteel surroundings were broken by the sound of a voice behind them.
VOICE: Time to die.
Looking to see who said it they saw a muscular man with short brown hair and a slightly thinner man also with short brown hair, both with an arrogant smirk on their faces.
KEEBLER: Donovan....Shawn.....please don't kill us.
Donovan Midas smiled and held up a small black pistol, aiming it towards Keebler.
MIDAS: I could kill you both now but I wanna make you squirm like I do with Shawn every night, squeal while you see the most handsome and talented wrestler on the face of the planet do his magic, nobody can defeat me. Everything I touch turns to gold, hence the name. Well, not gold exactly, but in my head it does because I'm so damn good that.....no......what the fuck? HEEEEELP!!
Dazz, Shawn Christopher and Kris Keebler watched in horror as this man's sheer arrogance and blatant self-promotion caused his head to swell rapidly to an unusual size, still growing until he looked like something Sir Richard Branson may fly in to cross the Atlantic until finally, it exploded. The three waited for brain matter to expel onto them but it never came, instead hot air spewed out until all that was left of Donovan was a headless corpse lying on the ground, water leaking out of the pistol he was holding.
DAZZ: Wow....ego'd to death. Nasty way to go.
Shawn reached into his pocket and before Dazz knew what had happened, Keebler was lying on the ground bleeding, a banana poking out from his chest cavity as Shawn had a grin on his face as Kris lay dead on the ground. Dazz hollered loudly, taking out a carton of milk, the same one given to him by Botts yesterday, driving it onto a nearby tree as the top smashed and jagged edges of cardboard appeared menacingly. Shawn shot a look of terror as he saw this, Dazz swinging it, catching him in the arm as scratch marks allowed a trickle of blood to run across his flesh. Attempting to back away, Shawn tripped over a rock, Dazz moving closer then holding the milk against Shawn's mouth, forcing him to drink as he screamed and tried tof ight him off.
CHRISTOPHER: Lactose intolerant! Lac....mmmmph!
Gulp after gulp to stop himself drowning in milk as his skin turned bright pink, finally succumbing and going limp, Dazz standing up straight and dropping the near empty carton as milk poured onto the ground. The noise of a helicopter's blades came closer as Dazz listened, watching as a white helicopter landed with Christian Connolly, Gemini Reznor and AC Botts stepped out and greeted him.
C2: Well done Dazz, you're the sole survivor, you won, Bodycount king. Now if you'd like to come with us and we can give you your prize...
Dazz looked at the bodies before him then gently nodded, following the three onto the helicopter as the blades began to whir into life again, lifting them into the air and flying away into the distance while Power Station's "We Fight For Love" begins to play, credits rolling until, upon the song finishing, the screen turned black and there was nothing left but silence.
The silence was broken by the front door being rapped hard over and over. A few moments pause then the rapping starts again, Dazz appearing from down the stairs, walking towards the white door and placing his fingers on the brass knob, opening the door to see who was there. Standing in the doorway was good friend Phil King, wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off yellow combat pants, black boots, white socks and a white wifebeater showing off his heavily tattooed body, his normally short black hair now shaved completely while his usual strip of hair from his bottom lip to his chin remained. Upon seeing this sight, Dazz opened the door wider, beckoning him in, Faith’s former bodyguard stepping over the threshold as the door is closed behind him.
Looking around, Phil whistled and smiled.
PHIL: Wow, made a lot of changes to this place huh?
Dazz looked towards his friend and nodded, seemingly uncomfortable about this line of questioning, his friend suddenly grasping why and dropping the subject. He made his way around the black couch, falling back onto the cushions with a bump as he rested his arms against his knees, Dazz doing the same on a chair nearby, watching as Phil drinks in the surroundings then glances back towards his host.
PHIL: So what's happening man, what you been up to?
Dazz took a deep breath, trying to think how to word this best before scratching the back of his neck for a moment.
DAZZ: Well, I've been back in form the last month thanks to Tyler Scott and Alex Taylor....
Phil decided to interrupt him.
PHIL: How come, I heard something was up but couldn't find out cause you wasn't talking to anybody.
Dazz sighed at this unwanted interruption cutting him mid-flow but answered the question anyway.
DAZZ: Two reasons really, first I find out my dad's side of the family includes Scotty Ace, Ryan Coleman and the Stylez brothers, Cody and Jason.
PHIL: Ahh yeah, Jason Stylez. You had beef with him for years, I know that asshole.
DAZZ: Yeah, well, there was that and the fact I was asked to help fight off Anarchy Inc, stop them taking over NLCW.
PHIL: That's the group we fought in 2004 right, Ryan Coleman, Justice, Priest?
DAZZ: No that was Damage Inc.
PHIL: The other group in 2005, you know? Christian Connolly, Dark Rayne, Speede, Logan Kincaide?
DAZZ: That was Talent Inc.
PHIL: Then who the hell.....
Dazz decided to give Phil a taste of his own medicine by interrupting him.
DAZZ: They got Dillon Durst, Chris Logan, Isaac Reynolds, Kelly Rien, Derrick Lambert, Bucky Skyler, Frank Merritt.
PHIL: Ahhh, right. I only heard of two of those guys, Durst and that son of a bitch Bucky. Dillon still the laughing stock of the locker room?
DAZZ: No he's had the World title twice and until the Anarchy thing happened was one of the most respected.
PHIL: Damn, how the hell did that happen? Got them all high? What's Bucky doing in that group, riding their coattails like he did with us?
Dazz laughed, remembering the time he allowed Bucky to become part of Chaos A.D. in late 2004/early 2005, Skyler doing nothing but use the name of the group he was in to try to further his career but not getting past the Hardcore title until he practically begged to become part of CWF later that year, taking part in the Prison Break match for the Cruiserweight title then having his wish granted with a Double Scaffold Sea of Tables match for the International title, coming up short both times but having a few wins on Aggression under his belt against Rayne Young and Rob Thorn before rushing back to NLCW before summer's end.
PHIL: How's Alex?
DAZZ: Up until last month he never forgave me for that stunt you pulled at Slamfest.
PHIL: Damn, that was what, two and a half years ago? I might give him a call then, see what's up.
DAZZ: No, I said he forgave me, might still take a while before he forgives you.
PHIL: Well I did powerbomb him off a cage, don't blame the guy.
DAZZ: Thing is he claimed for years it was my fault when I had no clue you'd do that. I only thought you'd make him shake my hand and end that stupid feud he had with us.
PHIL: Well he had it coming, the guy turned his back on us after how long as blood brothers, just a shame it's taken this long to get him back on side. As you were saying, what you been up to?
DAZZ: Well other than that, I've won the NLCW Tag Team titles again, this time with Tyler Scott, he's a good guy, violent when he needs to be. Would've been a top member of Chaos A.D. if we'd discovered him ourselves years ago, maybe he'd have been carrying the World title for us.
PHIL: Carrying how, transport or as champ?
DAZZ: The latter.
PHIL: Right, so he's good?
DAZZ: Yeah he is.
PHIL: I had Reiko call me months ago, tell me not to turn up to shows any more, to sit out my contract, what's the deal?
DAZZ: DeMontfort sold his majority shares of CWF to a guy called Anthony Wallace who pretty much kept who he wanted, told the rest to sit at home, he only kept Syd Ashley, Faith, Priest and myself.
PHIL: Kept where?
DAZZ: Motor City Wrestling. The guy used his own money and talent with what he used from CWF to create it, I'm the General Manager there, Priest's got himself injured and disappeared off the scene, Syd wanted to recover from injury and Faith's had this case for a while, can cash it against any championship whenever she likes.
PHIL: Sounds alright, not as good as our own shit but decent enough by the sound of it.
DAZZ: Yeah, just biding my time till I can bring it all back, until then I'm gonna be busy wrestling, Russell's still hurt so Havok Rising has to take a backseat for a while.
PHIL: That's a damn shame, you guys were good. My band's doing great, was hoping you guys could tour with us but don't look like it yet.
Dazz thought back to last time he'd seen Phil's band Death Trip live, remembering how great a show they put on until a rift caused them to split, Phil taking the time to get back into pro wrestling where he competed in NLCW and CWF for half the year. Now they'd been back together and released a new album, touring to support it, Phil's primal screams and intense stage presence causing similarities to Pantera's Phil Anselmo and Slayer's Tom Araya.
DAZZ: How is the band anyway?
PHIL: It's cool man, the last tour was sweet, last night of it I had about 5 women wanting to suck me off at once. That's one reason I'm here actually, you're a smart guy, wondered if you knew what to call that.
DAZZ: What to call what?
PHIL: The plural to cocksucker. You know, we got a pack of dogs, a school of fish, what about people who suck dick?
DAZZ: To be honest I have no clue.
PHIL: Ok, that's cool anyway.
DAZZ: But yeah, so I'm wrestling, got myself a Wargames match to compete in this week with Tyler Scott, Alex, Rick Majors, Tanya Black, Ethan Andrews, Sean Galen, ??,?? and ?? against Anarchy Inc, hoping I can win and be two for two as far as Wargames matches in NLCW. Pretty soon I’ll be in an ICE pay per view match for the first time ever, hell I'd never been on one of their shows before so that should be good.
PHIL: ICE?
DAZZ: International Championship Entertainment, Connolly's company, it's been around for years now. The guy's got more time for it since he retired from active wrestling and from what I’ve seen so far he's doing a good job.
PHIL: What exactly you going to do there then?
DAZZ: I was asked to be at the Destiny event, first 2 day pay per view in ICE history, night one will be headlined by Joel Kurtiss defending the Universal championship, night two will be headlined by the Bodycount match, 30 man battle royal, something hope I win.
PHIL: Cool, congratulations man, hope it works out for ya.
DAZZ: Thanks. Rules are, the winner gets to shape his or her future in whichever company they work for so I could use the win to make myself a 3 time NLCW World Heavyweight champion like I wanted for 2 years but I might save it and use it to get a title in ICE, Universal is what I'm thinking so far.
PHIL: Makes me wish I still wrestled, been busy with the band though and staying clean.
DAZZ: I heard you was finally clean, so how's that feel?
PHIL: Feels good, glad to still be alive. Felt dumb going into rehab to get professional help but it was better than the time I tried to get off the heroin by doing coke. I tell ya, it was like putting a band aid on cancer, that's how pointless and stupid it was.
DAZZ: As long as I'm still able to talk to you that's all that matters. Wouldn't forgive myself if you went and died on me.
PHIL: Thanks for the concern, it's why we're blood brothers man, real shame Alex took this long to realise himself, when we all made that oath years ago it was for life.
DAZZ: You want a drink or anything?
PHIL: It's fine, really. I had some fruit juice shit before I came over.
DAZZ: You? Fruit juice?
PHIL: Hey don't laugh man, I need it for my vocals, keep them lubricated just like I like my ladies.
DAZZ: Metal Hammer said your voice was sounding less like a constipated Cookie Monster these days.
PHIL: They did? Those sons of bitches. Yeah it's cause I had some coaching so I don't blow my voice out again.
DAZZ: Yeah, that'd be a real shame wouldn't it?
He laughed, remembering when Phil wasn't even allowed to whisper in case he caused irrepairable damage, noting how quiet he seemed, and better for it too. Phil just smiled and raised his eyebrows, knowing what Dazz was thinking in an instant.
PHIL: It's been quiet without you too motherfucker, admit it, you missed my voice as much as I missed yours.
The two men laughed together, enjoying their humourous moment as the scene faded slowly to black.
A light flickered then lit up the blackness, turning dark to light within seconds, showing off the gun metal grey walls of concrete with all of their cracks and chips, the muffled sounds of a busy workforce in the background and just emptiness front and centre. The distance is nothing more than a blur, shadowy figures moving about as they work with the natural daylight shining through open double doors behind them, making them almost silhouette like as they move to and fro, some carrying large objects, others holding just smaller items in their hands, footsteps echoing through this hallway slowly, sounding as if they're moving closer to the camera until a figure with blonde hair, clean shaven face and piercing blue eyes steps into the clear foreground, the camera cutting him off from the shoulders down but getting a clear glimpse of his jet black shirt, watching and listening as he takes a slow breath then exhales loudly. He stares into the lens and gently smirks for a brief few seconds, drinking in this extreme closeup shot.
DAZZ: Destiny. Some say it's destiny that put me on this Earth to become champion of champions. Others say pure it’s just pure coincidence that someone of God-like status could be born to compete in a wrestling ring and create the greatest songs and riffs in the history of modern metal, the best new guitarist since Dimebag Darrell first was heard with his chainsaw-like guitars leading Pantera forwards to legend status. I say they’re right. Look at me, I’ve had successes in the biggest wrestling companies this industry has ever seen, held Hall of Fame status in Revolution Wrestling Federation, World united Wrestling, Japanese Extreme Wrestling, Chaotic Wrestling Federation, No Limits Championship Wrestling and many many more. Soon I’ll be adding International Championship Entertainment to that long and illustrious list.
Lets face it, whose the biggest star that ICE hasn’t had in the middle of the ring, entertaining as only he can? That’s right, me, and what better way to blow everyone away with my incredible athleticism than to step into an ICE ring for the very first time in the main event of the second night of a weekend long pay per view event? Waltz right into the ring during a huge Bodycount battle royal, toss out every jackass ICE can throw at me then emerge as winner and ultimate ruler of this domain. You see, when all is said and done, there will be one name on everybody’s lips come the end of Destiny and that name is Dazz. You may be sitting there wondering, “how the hell can you back up such claims? How do you know you’ll win and walk away with a prize that everybody involved in ICE is clamouring for?” The answer’s simple my friends. Look at my track record.
Since my very beginnings in this business I’ve said I’ll become one of the biggest names in professional wrestling and people laughed at me and told me I was daydreaming, setting my standards too highly for what I was capable of. How wrong they were. Kinda funny, people ridiculed me then, now I’m a legend in both music and wrestling they’re knocking on my door and wanting free tickets to see me in action. The people who said I’d never amount to much, where are they now? Sitting at home watching this and being laughed at for their stupidity and lack of foresight into predicting my fame and status. I can snap my fingers and get what I want whenever the hell I want while they toil their whole lives and fall just short of their dreams. All those girls who disappointed me, rejected me, now you’re dropping your panties for me and walking away upset when I refuse you. Pathetic losers like you are a constant source of amusement for me. And now here I am, the contract is signed, the ink dry and Christian Connolly chomping at the bit to see me in action personally right in front of his eyes for the first time since April and dammit, you won’t be disappointed man. All I ask is that you bring in counsellors, therapists and EMTs because if I don’t leave your stars traumatised at losing to an outsider, I’ll leave them lying in the gutter bleeding like a stuck pig and in need of serious medical attention.
Lets look at who we got so far, somebody I helped get signed to CWF who stayed only a month, now the current ICE Universal champion. A fellow Canadian who has been at the top of the mountain several times in his career, including right now with his shiny championship around his waist. Doesn’t mean he’ll be at the top of his class at Destiny, this time the chance is mine and he can settle for the Universal championship for just a few weeks longer, possibility of losing it anytime while I will always be the first and most important athlete to win the inaugural Bodycount match. Donovan Midas, the world’s biggest ego in human form, this jackalope would sell his own grandmother to get a shot at glory, hell maybe he already has, who knows? All these so-called top stars in ICE representing various nations, American, Canadian, Japanese, European, Martian, they can try diplomatic immunity to stop themselves becoming eliminated from this match if they want, facts are facts though; I WILL be the man stepping over all of them like stepping stones on my way to becoming the champion, the man associated with Destiny.
I just love how everybody talks about being the greatest, being God’s gift to professional wrestling, taking home the crown and the glory. It’s as if they think they’re the only people involved in this contest. Are they really that idiotic to not remember that there are other, far superior athletes in this match, people willing to toss them over the top rope to the hard ground below and humiliate them in ways they can’t possibly imagine? I mean, take for example Chris Jacobs, a man who is more concerned with friends and family and the fact he likes to list his prior accomplishments to prove he’s more than half decent. Chris my dear boy, does it look like I give a shit that you’ve apparently held every championship in ICE? That you’re a top name in this company, one of the bigger stars? To be quite honest Chris, it just shows the lack of depth ICE has if monkeyspanks like you are considered top guys. In my time in this business I’ve seen and heard guys like you and you’re neither impressive nor threatening. Not sure whether to laugh at your stupidity or cry over the fact you believe your own hype. Pathetic really when you think about it. The Chris Jacobs Show? More like World’s Dumbest Animals. Jacobs, you’re a disgrace to this profession and I’m looking forward to showing you exactly why they call me this industry’s true legend. Excuse me a minute.
Dazz looks away and takes a hold of his cell phone, speed dialing somebody as he waits with the phone near his right ear.
DAZZ: Hey Phil, how’s it going?
……
DAZZ: Cool, listen, remember you asked a question that I couldn’t help with? Well I think I figured it out.
……
DAZZ: You know, the plural term for people who give oral pleasure.
……
DAZZ: Yeah, well the term is a Bodycount of cocksuckers.
…….
DAZZ: No problem man, anything to help.
He smiles and hangs up, placing his phone back before looking back towards the camera.
But you see, it’s not all fun and games and it’s not all serious. There’s kind of a feeling in the middle of all that, a feeling that everybody in professional wrestling should aim towards. The jokers are taken out easily since they’re never serious about winning matches so are totally off focus. Meanwhile the serious people who are focused on the task at hand find themselves put in blinkers, unable to see the whole picture due to their determination to win and succeed. That’s not the way to go ladies and gentlemen because, as I’ve found myself, having a little from each column is the mark of a true champion, somebody who exceeds expectations week after week and always gets the job done. I am that very man, just ask Christian Connolly, he knows exactly what I’m capable of in the ring and with such a dangerous match as this, well that just ups the ante and makes my advantage over everybody else just that little bit higher. I’ve won Highway to Hell matches, survived on the other side with deep gashes in my body, burns causing skin to peel off, concussions from being tossed through the roof of the steel structure into the ring below. I’ve won Exploding Cage matches, having my face scraped against steel like a cheese grater as I bled buckets all over that canvas, almost being tossed into the cage rigged with explosives. I’ve been involved in Scaffold matches, having to carefully walk across a steel girder and use every last ounce of strength to keep myself from falling down and potentially breaking bones. I’ve stared death in the face many times in my career and with the Bodycount match, I sure as hell won’t stop now. As I said before, my track record not only in my professional career but in dangerous matches such as this is a testament to my claim, I’ll mark that match and night two of Destiny as my own territory and leave absolutely no one in doubt that now and forever, my name will be the one on everybody’s lips as I hold my reward aloft for the entire world to see, basking in my glory as the crowd chants my name over and over, making the scene that will go down in Cedar Rapids reminiscent of the ending of a Rocky movie. I’m the Italian stallion himself while every single person in that ring is Apollo Creed, Clubber Lang, Ivan Drago, Tommy Gunn and Mason Dixon all rolled into one, ready to take the quick one-two direct to the temple and knocked the fuck out with nothing but the image of my huge celebration burned into their retinas for the rest of their lives. Hell, what am I talking about, I’m guessing by the look of these idiots on display that they’re more into High School Musical than the true classics. Truly pathetic. Just as pathetic is the fact that we have this team, the East West Foundation or some crap, taking more time to tend to flowers and hookers rather than concentrating on this match.
Do they honestly think that they’ll become a success with that kind of behaviour, that mindset? They act like Walter Mattheau and Jack Lemmon suddenly came back to life as a pathetic American with a “me me me” attitude and a Japanese fellow more into horticulture than whores. Ladies and gentlemen, the Odd Couple just got a whole lot odder and turned homosexual in the process. Please, Christian, spare your viewers the tedium of having to watch a pair of grown men prance around in flowerbeds stomping on flowers instead of wanting to stomp all over their competition. These men have held the tag team championships and want to take the gold again and again in ICE, prove themselves as one of the great teams up there with the Road Warriors and the Hart Foundation? If these men ever make it that far then pity the people they beat on the way up. Just be thankful tat I was the one who took out Tamura at the end of their lame promo to end the madness before we had to suffer any more crap, mark my words, Damion Black is next, as is anyone else who makes me have to waste my time watching their pathetic existence on television.
Until the next time I'm forced to see a shitty promo, I have business to attend to.
Dazz moves towards the right side of the screen, the camera remaining fixed as it catches the side of his head moving off out of shot, the shadowy figures still working in the background as we end the promo after a few choice words from the winner of the Bodycount match, the man who will single handedly eliminate all 29 other wrestlers at the event named after his own quest for greatness.