Beast vs. Mike Diamond vs. Troy Douglas

[SteelCitySon]

First round of World Title Tournament. Three Way Dance rules, first man eliminated from match is eliminated from tournament and entered into Intercontinental. Two winners will face each other one on one next week.

 

[MarcusWestcott]

Who woulda thunk it?

Scene fades in to Beast's locker room post-Aggression. The big man sits on a bench, now in jeans and a white Nickelback t-shirt, his long blonde hair still slightly wet, and hanging down his back. A piece of paper lies in front of him on the floor, and he puts his boots in his gear bag before speaking.

Beast: Well, well, well...

Wasn't *that* a kicker? It wasn't exactly the debut I was looking for.

I may have gotten my name into the win column, but even I'm not bold enough to come out and say I *beat* Dan Ryan.

And I'm sure that's exactly what Danny-boy wanted.

See, there's only one problem, Dan. I told you I don't play those mind games. You can play all you want, but all you're going to do is end up doing something that I'm sure you're intimately familiar with.

Playing with yourself.

However, there's one thing that might get overlooked in all the shenanigans going on here. Sure, Ryan may have dropped the arm on purpose, and he may have tried to screw with my brain, but there's one other thing that is loud and clear.

The Beast is real.

It wasn't all just hype. It wasn't ego. It wasn't some newbie stepping in and shooting his mouth off. No matter what Ryan was trying to pull in that ring, no one, and I mean no one can deny the fact that I went into that ring, and I took everything the man, the myth, the legend had to dish out. I stood toe to toe with him, and I showed the world that I can wrestle.

Now, granted, things didn't exactly go my way, so there's still something for me to prove. And now (points at the sheet on the floor) comes the time that everyone's been waiting for. The Empire Pro Heavyweight Championship tournament.

What better way to prove myself than to mow through everyone in this tournament and be the first one to hold the Empire Pro Heavyweight Title?

Now, that may be presumptous of me. Just a little bit.

But just a couple of short hours ago, I put the world on notice that the Beast is here to beat the hell out of anyone thrown in his way. I'm here to be the best.

And if that means I've got to go through Diamond and Douglas to do it, then so be it.

Now, Douglas, I'll be honest with you. I haven't got a clue who you are. But that doesn't change the fact that you are an obstacle in my way to winning that title. You're a roadblock, a rung on the ladder, and my friend, the roadblock is going to be blasted. The rung is going to be stepped over.

You're going to be eliminated.

And Mike Diamond?

You're kinda like me here. You've got something to prove.

Only, you're the one that got your ass handed to you tonight.

Well, Mikey, it's time to make it a streak. I don't know how going 0 and 2 sits with you, but it's time to pull up a chair and get comfortable, cause it's going to sit with you whether you like it or not.

I know you're going to be fighting hard to try and avenge that loss, but keep in mind that the Beast across the ring from you was the subject of a little game that he didn't like very much, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that I get through to the end of our half of the bracket. Ryan's on the other half, and if he plays his cards right, he can earn a rematch with me for the title.

And gentlemen, I wouldn't miss that for the world.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a plane to catch.

The scene fades to black as Beast shoves the rest of his gear in his bag, and reaches for his jacket.

 

[CuseTroy]

Survive and Advance

FADE IN...

The scene opens in the living room of Troy Douglas' Greensboro, NC home. It's only a way station on his way to Pittsburgh, but nonetheless, it's home. It's nothing overly lavish for a guy eith quite a bit of money, but he's lived there most of his life. The camera pulls into the living room, which is clear has not be cleaned in some time. Troy sits on his favorite easy chair in the middle of the living room. Currently, he's scribbling in a small book with a black leather cover, the journal he's kept for lo these past 15 years. A suitcase sits on the floor at his side. It's clear he's a man on the move. He smiles his classic 'aw shucks' grin when he's sees the camera, and motions the cameraman in.

"Empire Pro. Good to see y'all for the first time. I've been around this industry for the greater part of my life, and I can say with no qualms, we got something good for y'all right here. But enough with the bubbly, complimentary, goody-goody crap.

"Let's get down to business.

"Beast, you said you know absolutely nothing about me. That's fine by me. Hell, I don't know you from Adam either. I've heard the standard industry buzz, but nothing else. All I can say is, come Aggression in Steeltown, your gonna get to know me a whole lot better. But, I'll get back to you. I want to talk to 'The Diamond Boy' first."

Troy sits up in his chair and stairs intently at the camera.

"Mike Diamond, don't take this as any offense, but I haven't even met you and already, I can't stand you. You'll talk and talk about how you're the greatest, how no one in this business can measure up to you. But then, how can you constantly go out there and not deliver? Hey, I heard about your injury. Your hurt, that's fine. I know about injury. I just lost 4 and a half months of the life I'd made for myself because of physical and psychological trauma. But, I worked every damn day to prove to myself, my opponents, and my fans that I can still do this, that I still have what it takes to be the best in the world. I won't claim to be it, but I'll go for it anyway. You, Mikey? You talk, but then you don't back it up where it matters. You wanna call yourself one of the best in the world? Here's what you do. You come into that ring in Pittsburgh and you prove me wrong.

"That's all I got for you Diamond, I'll let you go till you get out of your hidey-hole and talk."

Troy rises from the armchair, now only leaning on the right arm rest.

"Beast, when you last hit television to talk about this three way dance, you called me a roadblock, a rung on the ladder of your success. You said I'd be, how did you put it? Oh yeah. 'Stepped over.'

"Here's a message, Beast. Nobody, not Dan Ryan, not Rob Sampson, not anyone in all of Empire Pro Wrestling, is going to step over, around, or through me anymore. I worked too damn long and too damn hard to go back to the beginning now. This is my fresh start, the opportunity that I do not intend to let idly pass me by. This is my shot at one of the most coveted titles in the business, that of 'World Champion'. I don't want to be anybody's doormat anymore. It's my turn at the bat now, and I'm gonna give everything it takes, and maybe a little more, to end up at the top of this heap when the day is done.

"Right now, it's survive and advance. I have every intention of surviving as long as I possibly can. No f*cking stupid cheap sh*t guarantees from me, that's never been my style. I won't say that I'm going to win this tournament. I'll do what I've done for the 27 years of my life. I'll go out and I'll show the world exactly who Troy Douglas is, and what he means to do. This ain't it yet. Oh no, this is just the beginning of the road. But hey, everybody's gotta start somewhere. Beast, Mike, I guess I'll start with you two. I'll see y'all again soon."

He grins at the camera.

"Take your best shot, I ain't goin' nowhere for a while. That's it for me right now, I'll see you in Pittsburgh."

...FADE TO BLACK

 

[MarcusWestcott]

Strike Three

Scene fades in to what appears to be the living room or den of someone's home. The camera pans around the well-decorated room, complete with a very modern entertainment center/home theater setup. A ball game is on the big screen - although it looks like an old game, and the camera eventually pans around to show Beast sitting in a huge leather chair.

Beast: Sometimes it's good to just sit back and relax, and think about the days gone by. Every now and then, I like to pop in an old tape of the Toronto Blue Jays, and watch them take the World Series in 92. A great year for baseball, in my eyes. The World Series title comes north of the border.

But then, inevitably you always get snapped back into reality. You realize you're sitting in the present, not the past, and you come to the realization that no matter how good they were in the past, my good old Blue Jays just plain suck these days.

Now, Douglas, I can appreciate what you've gone through. You had an injury, you fought back, and you've made it back to the big time. That's something that no one can laugh at. There was a man who used to be one of my best friends who had his neck broken, and after 10 months, he was able to make a return. No matter how much of an assh*le he is today, it can't take away from the fact that you accomplished something special.

However...

That's all in the past.

This is the here and now.

You may have worked hard and long to come back, but the fact of the matter is this, Troy, that just because you did, that doesn't mean that you automatically get the win. Hundreds, thousands, millions of people train their entire lives to get into the Olympics in their sport, but only one of them can win the Gold.

The rest of them have to try again.

Just because you worked your ass off to get back to professional wrestling doesn't automatically exclude you from the fact that you can be beat. The fact that you fought back from adversity doesn't make you invincible.

It only proves that you're human.

It only proves that you can be hurt.

And if I have to hurt you again to win this match, and you have to spend another 4 and a half months in rehab, then so be it. That's what I've got to do to win and move on to become the World Champion. It's winner take all, and I'm not going to settle for second place.

So, Casey, it may be your turn at the bat right now, but when you step into the ring with me at Aggression, I'm bringing the heat, and I may even mix in a bit of junk along with it. There's two out, the bases are loaded, and it's the bottom of the ninth. You're down by one.

But after the match when you're laying on the big Empire Pro logo in the middle of the ring, you're going to realize that you've got to go back to the dug out and try again, because you've done nothing but strike out.

I called you a roadblock, a rung on the ladder.

And truth be told, I meant every word of it. Like it or not, I have to beat you to get my shot at the World Title.

It's a fact. There's nothing that's going to change that. I have to beat you, and I have to beat Mike Diamond.

And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

I'm going to show everyone at Aggression that you and Diamond belong back in the minor leagues.

All because you couldn't hit a curveball.

The camera fades out as Joe Carter hits the World Series winning home run.

 

[MarcusWestcott]

Something's missing...

Scene fades in as Beast, dressed in only a pair of gym shorts, is leaving his private gym at his home, towel around his shoulders, brow dripping with sweat.

Beast: You know, it's funny.

We're standing here in the middle of the birth of a new wrestling promotion. A new opportunity for some to finally break into the big leagues who couldn't get a break before because all the rosters in the other promotions were full. It's a chance for others who needed a change of scenery to become a star in a new federation when maybe their own light was fading in their current promotion. Or maybe for people like me, it's a chance to spread out and test new waters, to face new opponents, and push yourself to the very limits to see if you can handle the grueling schedule of not one but two promotions at the same time.

This is a great time to be involved in professional wrestling. When a new promotion opens up, Champions have to be declared. People get a chance to prove their worth and take their rightful spots as the leader of the pack.

So you think that when an opportunity like this presents itself, anyone that is given such a chance would do everything in their power to catch that ball and run with it as far as they can.

But obviously, my opponents this week have other plans. Who knows? Maybe that steak dinner is more important to them than a shot at being the best. Perhaps that last shot of whisky, or that last hummer from the whore on the corner is more valuable at this particular moment.

But hey, to each his own.

I've got my priorities straight.

Last night, I just added my third A1E Tag Team Championship to my resume, but to be perfectly honest, I'm keeping a spot open on that document to put in the words "Inaugural Empire Pro Heavyweight Champion". It's no secret that I'm gunning for that title. I'm running on all cylinders. I'm jacked.

My opponents don't seem to have that same passion.

But you know, I wouldn't blame them if they were just an eensy-weensy bit scared. It's not every day you have to face a beast.

Maybe it goes something like this...

It happens in every city, in every town, every village across the world. There's one kid in the school yard that no one's ever quite sure of. No one really knows that much about him. He's an outsider. He hasn't had much to do with the current group of people.

One day, the biggest bully in the school decides to have a little fun with the outsider. He's going to kick his ass. So one recess, all the kids are out in the school yard, playing and having fun, and the bully goes up to the outsider and picks on him. He pushes him. He makes fun of him. He threatens to beat the sh*t out of him.

But things backfire. The outside steps up and takes the bully to class. He stands toe to toe with the bully and gets the win in the end.

What happens next? All the other kids stay the hell away from the outsider. They don't bother him again. They let him be.

They're afraid of him.

That must be what's happened here.

I walked into Empire Pro, and stood toe to toe with arguably one of the best the business, and like me or not, I proved myself to be more than anyone here expected.

It's ok, Diamond. If you don't want to poke your head out of the shadows and say boo, I won't hold it against you. While Casey is out in the backyard trying to figure out how to hit that damned curveball, I'll just beat your asses and advance into the next round, ready to grab onto that ball...

... and run with it all the way to the Empire Pro Heavyweight Championship.

The scene fades out as Beast walks off and enters the shower.