Hahahaha! Come on now Kalil. Do you really expect me to take the silent route? Have you not seen the weeks prior? I’ve taken stab after stab at you; time and time again trying to get you to prove to me that you have some kind of charisma under that toothpick you call a physique. Thus far, the only thing you have proven to me is that you can pull a bullshit win out with a bullshit pin. As I said before though, I guess in your eyes, a win’s a win.
And now Shabree thinks she so deserves a shot at the title that everyone knows should rightfully be around this waist. Shabree, why exactly do you think you deserve such a prize? Here’s the thing Shabree, and I’ll make sure to speak slowly enough for you to understand. That title will be mine by the end of Distortion, and then maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you the chance you think you deserve. Rumor has it that you are gaining some notoriety back in the locker room as a contender. That’s yet to be seen, but I won’t deny you the chance to try and prove it. Kalil says he’s willing to accept your challenge, but only the champ at the time of the match has that right. So, come Distortion Shabree, you better make sure you watch closely to see who your opponent will be.
The rest of the locker room seems hell bent on trying to dethrone the World Champion, and if they want to, that’s completely their decision to be the champion with false pretenses. A World Champion can never be a true global champ unless he or she fights everywhere and anywhere, and hold their head high above the rest. The true championship here in the federation is the New Wave title. It’s the belt that signifies all the members of NWR. The New Wave championship is what should be the main focus of THIS fed.
So here we come. This coming Distortion, you find yourself stuck in yet another match with yours truly, with you being able to set the stakes for the match. I guess the champ has the right to do what he wants when he’s the one holding the strap. So the stakes have been set; a submissions match. Are you expecting to show a big man like me Kalil, just how it’s supposed to be done? Are you expecting to walk into this match and slap that submission of yours on me with ease? If this is what you are thinking kid, think again. I’ve been through men bigger and better then you. I’ve been in the ring with the best, and I’ve beaten some of the best; men with the grip of a vice, and the strength of a bear.
So after this test of prowess; the battle between the dreaded Star Maker and the Dreamscape, and you are tapping wildly inside the center of the ring, will you then accept defeat and actually shake the hand of the man that beat you at your own stakes? I’m almost positive you won’t. You have yet to amaze me so far Kalil, so that’s a stretch to think you have the heart of a true champion. If I’m able to lock it in Kalil, and I’m sure I will, will you at least do me the honor of screaming? I like it when they scream for me.
Star Maker Vs. The Dreamscape.
You wanted a challenge Kalil. It’s time to accept the consequences. If I beat you, that title will be finally where it belongs, on the waist of a true champion. However Kalil, if you beat me with that submission of yours, then, and only then, will truly deserve to call it, the Star Maker.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~During the prior Distortion~
Darkness can be seen standing in the hallway of the EnergySolutions Arena looking through his black bag. He scrambles his hand around inside, as if he’s looking for something. Darion Steel, dressed in his black trench coat, and his hair, draped over his face, dripping with water. He stands there watching Darkness play with his black bag.
Darion: Pete, what the hell are you looking for?
Pete: Lighter fluid. My damn Zippo is empty right now. It fluttered on me earlier when I was talking with Seth.
Darion: You were talking with Seth earlier?
Pete: Yeah I was.
Darion: Why?
Pete: Why does that matter? Are you my mother now?
Darion: I should hope not. Just never thought I’d see you talking with Seth fucking Chaos. He’s friends with Drusilla.
Pete: Observant aren’t you big man?
Darion: I’m being serious here. I don’t associate with people her befriend her.
Pete: First off, she’s still a friend of mine.
Darion: Yeah well...
Pete: Yeah well nothing. Don’t start being petty now Darion. It doesn’t suit you. Dru hurt you. Suck it up. It happens to everyone.
Darion: But Seth?
Pete: Not like it’s any of your business, but we were discussing the reactions fire on leather.
Darion: Oh please tell me you set that pretty boy and his trench coat on fire.
Pete: Pretty boy?
Darion: No, I don’t have the hots for him. Get that out of your warped little mind.
Pete: OH BABY!
Darion: Shut up! So I hear you had a little bit of fun with the boss man? You actually pulled that nickel payment off didn’t you?
Pete: Oh yeah!
Darion: I swear, you planned that suspension a long time ago, just to get to finally do that to someone.
Seth Chaos is seen, holding his black leather trench coat under one arm. As he rounds the corner, he sees Darkness, holding his belly in laughter as he speaks with Darion.
Darkness: You should have seen his face!!! Chris was so weirded out he couldn't get angry! I RULE!
Darion: Yeah but...oh, hello grease-spot...
Seth holds up his hand, shaking his head.
Seth: I'm not here to fight big man. Darkness, about that leather theory?
Darkness: Yeah, what about it?
Saying nothing, Seth tosses Darkness his trench coat, & Darkness' eyes light up at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and at the wondrous things he could do with the coat...and his lighter.
Darkness: Hey thanks! I can't wait to test out my theories...
Darion shakes his head, smiling as Seth nods, then disappears around the corner
Pete: Don’t you dare say anything Darion. Admit it, it’s thoughtful.
Darion: Aww, Pete has a crush.
Pete: This coming from the man who thinks he’s pretty.
Darion: I hate you!
Both men walk off together, with Pete pushing the trench coat into his black duffle bag. They disappear down one of the many hallways.
Fade to Black
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You have some balls Kalil. You can joke about this all you want, and make comments about me thinking about your package and all that usual bullshit that spews from your mouth, but the fact remains. It seems you finally grew a set. After all, you have time and time again called me basically nothing more then a flash in the pan newbie, mocking me at every chance you get. If this is what you have to resort to, then that’s fine. If smack talking is gets you in and gets you off, by all means son, have at it. Whatever helps you cope with the fact that you are about you lose your precious title, do it. It’s understandable that you are worried. You don’t have to admit it. It’s written all over your face.
I want you to take a step back for a moment Kalil. Step back and think about it for a quick second. You are about to step into the ring with me again; someone who has had numerous championships, trophies and Hall Of Fame positions then most of the so called superstars here. Was exactly does that say to you? Let me guess? It says I’m wet behind the ears right? It says that I’m all talk and no stalk? It must just scream that I’m only a hand slap away from choking when the pressures on. I’m here for more then one reason Kalil. I’m here to kick ass, take names, and enjoy every minute doing it.
I can’t really take much more of your voice, or your face littering our precious airwaves. It’s time to realize that you just don’t belong among the greats here in NWR. You can make it a submissions match, a steel cage match, a first blood match, or if your real creative, a “Batalha De Morte” if you think you could stomach the pain. I don’t back down from real superstars, what makes you think I’ll stand down to you.
Enjoy being the Champ Kalil. You only have a few days remaining. Keep your chin up kiddo. It’s Inevitable.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scene fades back on a West Jet airplane, thirty thousand feet in the air. Inside the tight quarters of the coach section of the plane sits many cramped people, one being none other then Darion Steel. There he sleeps in the fourth row, with his seat tilted back enough to almost be sitting in the lap of the passenger behind him, aggravating the passenger. He knees the back of the seat trying to wake him. No response. He pushes and knees it again, slowly waking the behemoth of a man. Darion only grunts, rolls over and tries to sleep once again.
Passenger: Excuse me sir. Could you PLEASE move your seat up?
Darion: Leave me alone.
Passenger: Seriously. I can’t move. I can’t even stand up to go to the washroom. You are gonna have to move your damn sleep.
Darion: What part of that statement did you not understand?
The passenger behind him uses his buzzer, signaling the flight attendant. She walks over and sees Darion sprawled out in his seat with his hair covering his face. She leans over him slightly, looking down from above.
Attendant: Excuse me sir. You will have to move your seat up. You are cramping the passenger behind you.
Darion reaches up to his face, slightly moving his hair from his right eye at the sound of the female voice coming above him.
Darion: How is it my fault that he’s not smart enough to get a first class ticket?
Passenger: Hey now!
Darion: It’s the truth ain’t it?
Passenger: And what’s your excuse?
Darion: What do you mean?
Passenger: Why are you back here with the rest of his Mr. Big Shot wrestler?
Darion: You know who I am huh?
Passenger: Of course I do, and I’m telling you, I ain’t impressed at all with you in or out of the ring. What makes you so special?
Darion: I believe that I should be back here with all my fans.
Attendant: The first class is all booked up.
Darion: Ok, well there’s that too, but it’s not the point.
Passenger: Miss?
Attendant: Sir please!
Darion: Fine, ya baby.
Darion sits his seat up enough to give the passenger behind him room to move around. He adjusts himself in the seat, reaching into his jacket pocket. He removes his cell phone which is set to airplane mode. He sends a text message to Pete.
Darion: Hey pete man. Any word yet on Kalil’s stipulations?
He waits a few minutes and receives a message back, sending his ring-tone off.
Pete: Supposedly he’s looking to have it a submission match. Not really your style eh?
Darion: Not really, but hey, gotta do what I gotta do right.
Pete: Seems that way. Just don’t break him in half.
Darion: Aww, but why not? That’s always fun.
Pete: I’m not bailing you out again. It’s been years since I had to do it last, but it sucked the last time.
Darion: Don’t worry. No more run ins with the authorites.
Pete: So where are you?
Darion: Somewhere 30,000 ft above you.
Pete: You should have been here already.
Darion: Flight was delayed. I’ll be there in about 20 min or so. Meet me there?
Pete: Already there. I’m here checking out the gift store. Think Emily will like something sharp?
Darion: Don’t know her man. Forgot her name was Emily.
Pete: Asshat! Dah well. You will probably see much more of her soon enough. Anyways, see you when you get here. Text me when you land.
Darion: Will do.
Pete: Ciao.
With that, Darion closes his cell phone. He places it back in his pocket and lays his head back against the top of the seat.
Darion: So Kalil, you wanna submission match eh?
He shakes his head.
Darion: You never learn do you? Why do you think you will able to get that locked in on me? Was it because of the backslide? Does that disillusion you or something into thinking you are fucking Superman?
Passenger: Watch the language up there. There is an impressionable child back here.
Darion: Kalil, you sir are some character, ya know that? I haven’t quite met someone like you before. I’ve never had to step into the ring with such a con artist as you. You make people think that you actually deserve that title.
Passenger: Which he does.
Darion: Come Distortion Kalil, you and I will tangle once again. You got the better of me once, but that won’t happen again. You will be the one standing tall that night as you writhe in pain on the canvas from my Dreamscape.
Passenger: Doubtful.
Darion: I’ll see you soon enough Kalil. Polish that gold all nice and shiny for me son. It’s coming home very, VERY soon.
With that said, Darion, lays back against the seat again, covering his face with his hair, blocking his eyes from the light.
Passenger: It’s about time he shut up.
Darion grabs the lever at the side of the seat, pulling it hard and pushing back with his feet and legs, slamming the seat into the passenger’s legs hard. He belts out a roar.
Passenger: FUCK! THAT HURTS!
Darion: Watch the language back there. There is an impressionable child back there.
Passenger: STEWARDESS!
Fade to black
