1- "FlyKing" Will Geddings
2- "Kuro Neko" Achika Akatani
3- "Greatness Personified" Joshua Black
4- Summer Blake
5- "Jester" Chad Allen
6- "The Revolution" Josie Saito
7- Shadoe Rage
8- "Heavy Metal Hero" Erik Grimsson & "Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson
9- Dan Broussard
10- "The One" Brian Young
11- Bloody Malthus
12- Zeke McGinty
13- Larry Gionet
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1- "FlyKing" Will Geddings
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<<The scene opens to Will Geddings. Geddings is dressed in red gym shorts and a white t-shirt. He sits at a kitchen table, a thick text book open in front of him. He begins to speak without breaking his gaze.>>
[Geds]: I suppose I should start studying again...
<<Geds, in spite of his previous statement, closes the book and looks up at the camera. The expression on his face conveys the fact that he is none too happy.>>
[Geds]: I really should. It's obvious that my best chance of making my mark is in the United States legal system and not in the NEWF...I mean...Shadoe Rage? Shadoe *censored* Rage???
[Geds]: Who in two hells is Shadoe Rage? Best I can tell, he's another "big name" that Hopper has wooed to the NEWF...and another name that he'll push to the top, leaving me to deal with the Alex Van Steeles of the world.
<<Geddings shakes his head.>>
[Geds]: Seriously, what's the deal? When the federation opened, I was approached and asked to come in. And I did. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. And I have been here since day one. My name has been on the billings. When Hopper went to secure loans from this and that bank, the name he dropped for security was mine. And how do I get thanked? By being used as debut fodder for his new pets.
[Geds]: Frostbite? Gionet? David Rheaume? All guys that have carried the banner for these "less-than" federations, and all are getting shoved to the top over here. And me? I'm facing SHADOE *censored censored ceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeensored* RAGE!
<<Geddings closes his eyes and rubs the outside of his right eye-lid with his right hand.>>
[Geds]: I'm sorry. I think I'm getting a migraine.
[Geds]: Here's what's going to happen. It's obvious that I am not going to be given the shot that I deserve. I'm going to have to force my hand. A new era is going to come down on the NEWF...an era centered around Operation: Sleeperhold.
<<Geddings gets up and grabs a bottle of water.>>
[Geds]: When I take the ring against Shadoe Rage this week...and when I, inevitably, face some other debuting piece of crap the week after that and the week after that...well, the roofs will shake. The fans will be alive...they will be standing, leaning forward, and chanting...
<<Geddings cups his hands around his mouth, setting the water bottle on the table.>>
[Geds]: (chanting) BOR-ING! BOR-ING!
[Geds]: (regular voice) If I am not going to be given a forum to display my talents, then my talents will go unused. I will defeat and destroy Shadoe Rage...but it will not be with a 450 splash, a shooting star press, or any variety of the plancha...it will be with the STF, the boston crab, the sleeperhold, and the abdominal stretch.
[Geds]: I will come down to that ring wearing a singlet and headgear if that's what it takes to prove my point. I did not come out of retirement to face Shadoe Rage in some mid-card bout. I didn't come out to watch the rest of the known universe get pushed ahead of me. I returned to be a champion, and I will get my shot...one way or another.
<<Geddings sits down again, opening his book.>>
[Geds]: (looking at book) And Van Steele? I haven't forgotten about you. The TV title? Meh. Small potatoes...but it's obvious that winning that match was required for me to get a spot in the limelight. That's a spot that you took from me. You will not be forgiven for these sins. I suggest you find God soon, kid. He's the only one who can help you now.
<<A smile can be seen creeping across the visible side of Geddings' face.>>
[Geds]: (after a low chuckle) If things don't change, maybe I can assist you in your salvation.
<<Scene fades>>
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2- "Kuro Neko" Achika Akatani
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[There's a musty air in the plain brick building just a few miles from the Quicken Loans Arena in Clevelancd, Ohio. It's your typical run down gym. Dank and dingy. Brick walls covered in a mish mash wallpaper of flyers, promotional posters for unsuccessful events long past and maybe even some mold if you look close to the floorboards.
The cleaning effort is obviously focused on things more important, like the mats. They shimmer and practically sparkle like the bluest ocean you've ever seen. They look pristine. Virginal. Perfection.
And though I would make no claims of innocence about her, the girl on the mats looks much the same. Pristine and perfect. She flawlessly executes a sweep from the bottom, dives out of the guard position and takes side control. She snakes her arms between the body of her sparring partner and his arm and wraps them around it before returning to her back. She takes guard as she does and then finally cranks back the arm until you see a grimace of pain, hear the yelping of a kicked puppy and possibly the cracking of tendons or at least a joint popped out of it's socket.
It's a matter of seconds for the whole affair to happen and then she's standing over him, as trainers rush in to stabalize his arm. The woman, whose almond colored skin shines with a thick sheen of sweat, stares down, back towards the camera. The two trainers look up at her a little hint or worry or anger in their expressions. Hard to tell through the concern for the man.]
TRAINER 1: You dislocated his shoulder! AGAIN!
[The woman shrugs and the two trainers scowl deeply at her.]
TRAINER 2: You think it's so funny, then you can find somebody else to spar with.
[She shrugs again and turns around. The aloof smile on her face is hanging haphazardly to the left and strings of her hair are plastered to her forehead, but there's no mistaking her now. If you couldn't tell before, this is "Kuro Neko" Achika Akatani. The Black Cat. And yet again she's proven that it's bad luck to cross her path.
She walks to the edge of the mats and kneels down. She bows her head and whispers something we can't pick up, but it looks vaguely like prayer. It's strange, because Achika is a self avowed atheist. Practically a nihilist. She turned her back on everything as a teenager and chose to live in the streets. She finishes whatever it is she was doing and stands, heading for the locker room. The camera fades down to black on the door swinging shut and then back up as it starts to open.
Where once was Achika's wrestling gear, she's now wearing street clothes. An oversized black hoodie with red sleeves and loose cuffs rolled all the way up to her biceps. A black and red plaid skirt hangs to about her knees, it looks old and faded. Underneath she wears tall boots, all most to her knees, but not wrestling boots. More like combat boots, including exposed steel toes, though they don't shine. In fact they have black marker all over them, drawing little anarchy logos over and over. She also wears a pair of black tights under the skirt with a hole in the right knee. She carries a large duffel bag over her shoulder and is chewing on the tip of a water bottle, holding it without her hands.
She glances at the camera and smiles, taking the water bottle out of her mouth to talk.]
ACHIKA: 'Forrow' me. I know where I'm not wanted. I have much 'plactice' at it.
[She casually throws up the bird in the direction of one of the two trainers from earlier, who's busy holding ice to the shoulder of the young man Achika injured earlier. He shakes his head and pats the guy's other shoulder causing an immediate wince and yelp of pain. The trainer looks mollified, realizing his mistake. At about the same time the viewers realize Achika dislocated BOTH of his shoulders today.]
ACHIKA: Nothing like a 'disrocated' 'shourder' or two is going to stop me in the 'ling' though. Summer 'Brake' is tougher than that. I 'rike' Summer Blake.
[Achika continues to strain with her accent. She pushes through the doors to the outside. It's a gloomy day out, not quite raining. Gray skies and everybody else rushing around to get out of the slight chill. Achika actually looks kind of happy, especially by comparison.]
ACHIKA: She is tough. She 'wir' not tap out just because I tear her meniscus. She will not quit just because I 'lip' her 'erbow' out of it's socket.
[Achika takes a drink from her water bottle and chuckles.]
ACHIKA: I have been waiting for this. I have been itching to get in the ring with someone like her. Someone who isn't Nina 'Glimsson' anyway.
[Achika walks down the middle of the sidewalk. Like she owns it. Forcing everyone else subtlely to the sides. Around her.]
ACHIKA: Nina is tough, she will have her day, but when she and I 'closs' paths we always seem to play her game. The 'blawring' and 'breeding'. Fighting backstage, outside the ring, weapons, 'unlestrained' violence!
[Her eyes light up as she talks about her battles with the Mockingbird.]
ACHIKA: With Summer, I will 'pray' MY way! I 'wir' make her fight MY STYLE! And I will show Nina a painful 'grimpse' into her future. After I cripple your 'abirity' to defend yourself...
[She smiles that crooked smile and laughs dryly. She speaks slowly, very slowly. Pronouncing each word carefully.]
ACHIKA: I will steal the very air you breath from your lungs. I will wrap my legs around your neck and arm and choke the life from you while I snap your ankle. The Ayatori '07 will be the end for you Summer Blake. And it will be the end for you as well Nina.
[Suddenly, another young woman's voice is heard. British accented.]
SKB: Guess I just missed you at the gym. Although from the way they reacted to my asking about you, I wish I hadn't.
[Achika turns and looks behind her to see the owner of that voice.
"Spitfire" Kyra Braddock.
The 5'1" and 104 pound Sheffield, England native sports a black and hot pink sweatsuit, and white Reeboks on her feet. Her long jet-black hair, parted in the middle, falls straight down her back.]
ACHIKA: Just a 'rittle' sparring to get me ready for my match on Explosion.
[Kyra nods.]
SKB: Speaking of which, stay away from Grimsson - at least until after I've beaten her. That's my time in the spotlight, and I intend to take full advantage of it.
[Achika chuckles drly again.]
ACHIKA: I have 'prans' to be busy anyway. I will be one-hundred percent focused on Summer Blake. I will grind her into so many pieces it will take weeks before she can walk again.
[Kyra smiles, then nods her head in understanding.]
SKB: Good. I plan on doing the exact same to Grimsson. Having watched you two fight, I know she'll be a very tough opponent. But there's no bloody way she'll be able to last against me.
[Achika leans in very close alongside Kyra as they walk along, holding her palm up in front of Kyra's face.]
ACHIKA: One of the first 'ressons' I learned in Kindred: Japan...
[She slowly closes it tightly.]
ACHIKA: Fist is both fingers _and_ hand. To crush your enemy just put them inbetween.
[Fade to black.]
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3- "Greatness Personified" Joshua Black
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[Scene opens in a bland, basic locker room. Inside the room are three people.. one of them being the recently defeated Joshua Black. Joshua's sitting in a steel folding chair, with his head in his hands. His blonde hair hangs down over his hands as well. The straps of his singlet are pulled down, and sweat drips from his body. Massaging his shoulders is Joshua's wife, Heather Black. Her long brown hair is pulled back in a pony tail, and she's wearing a tight black t-shirt that reads "Greatness Personified" in gold lettering, and a pair of tight black denim pants, along with her black high-heels. Pacing around the room is Joshua's manager, Johnny Windham. That bald, bearded, pudgy bastard is wearing a brown suit jacket and slacks with a white shirt and a brown tie. Johnny looks quite annoyed as he paces faster and faster, causing beads of sweat to form on his bald head.]
JW: This isn't how it was supposed to go, Josh. You've had two matches, and you've lost both of them. The idea when we got here from GRANITE was that we were going to run this place. Take this place by storm. Show everyone that "Greatness Personified" wasn't just a nickname.
[Upon hearing this, Joshua picks his head up with a sneer on his face. His blonde hair still hanging in front of his face.]
JB: Not the way it was supposed to go? NOT THE WAY IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO?! You think I don't KNOW that?! Jesus CHRIST, Johnny! How [TV Edit] dumb are you?! Like I'm not aware of the fact that I'm winless here. Like I don't know that I just got blindsided out there buy a god damn NOBODY! A NOBODY!! I swear to god... you're useless.
JW: Useless?! Don't take it out on ME just because YOU can't win a god damn match!
[Well, that did it. Now Joshua quickly stands up from his chair, knocking the chair to the ground. Heather quickly backs up from the chair and stands out of harms way as Joshua grabs Johnny by the tie and gets in his face.]
JB: I don't see you out there, Johnny! I don't see you in the ring getting kicked and punched and choked! How about I show you what it feels like out there?! How about I do to you EXACTLY what you think I should be doing to everyone out there?!
JW: I'm the one that brought you INTO this freakin business! You were just some college wrestler when I found out.. if it weren't for ME you'd be struggling to make ends meat in some fast food place!
[Joshua lets go of Johnny's tie and steps back a little.]
JB: Is that what you think? Is that what you really think?! Look at here, you fat bastard.. I didn't sign with you because I thought you were some savvy businessman.. I didn't sign because I thought you were this great manager that could bring me to the top. I signed with you because you were an easy in. You were an easy way to get into this business. And, so far, I've followed you around. You recommended GRANITE.. said it'd be a great place to make a name for myself overseas. Look at how well that one turned out. GRANITE gets bought out by Hopper, and how we're all the way back over here. Now you're telling me how much of a screw up I am and how I can't win a match. How about this.. whos' my next match against?
JW: Someone named Bloody Malthus.
JB: The hell kind of name is that? Anyway, that's not the point. I'm going to guarantee a win. Got that? GUARANTEE a freakin win! This is going to be my starting off point. I wasn't included in that little setup they had for the TV title.. but there IS the World Title tournament coming up, and I WILL be in it.. I WILL win it.. and it all starts this week against Bloody Tampon or whatever his name is. Got it?!
JW: Yeah, I got it. Now let's just see you live up to it.
JB: Don't worry about me, Johnny.. remember, you said it yourself.. "Greatness Personified" isn't just a nickname. Right babe?
[Joshua turns back to face Heather who winks at him and smiles.]
HB: It's a goddamn fact.
[Fade to black.]
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4- Summer Blake
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[The scene opens to downtown Manhattan, where we find Summer Blake, navigating her way through the busy streets. It's a chilly afternoon and the young woman is clad in a black, pea coat and dark blue denim jeans. She completes the look with boots, her black hair falling down her back. She shoves her hands in her coat pockets and shivers a bit before tossing the camera a look.]
Summer: Yeah, I know I've been MIA these last couple of days but I've had some family stuff to deal with. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten about what happened the last time I stepped in an NEWF ring. Hell, it's actually all still pretty fresh in my mind.
[She frowns.]
Summer: Now, I always had the suspicion that Kyra Braddock was a sleazy skank. But it wasn't until Explosion and our tag match that I saw just how sleazy she really is. I'm a realist. I know that she, Akira, and I weren't going to be bosom buddies or anything. We barely knew one another. But we were supposed to be a team and had a job to do, which was more important than anything else.
But I guess Kyra didn't get the memo, as evidenced by the fact that she stabbed her own partners in the back, when she should have been focusing on the opposition.
[She sighs, shaking her head.]
Summer: Thanks to her screwball behavior, I lost my first NEWF match and have been pretty much ticked ever since. I don't think I have to tell you how important this match was to me. It was the chance to make a fresh start and begin this run off on the right foot. But Kyra ruined all of that. It's one thing to lose because a team is better. I can accept that. But, when you lose because you're forced to work with a selfish, backstabbing bitch who only cares about herself? Well, that doesn't quite sit too well with me.
I hope Kyra doesn't think she's gotten away with a damned thing, because I want and will be expecting answers. But first, I have to deal with her buddy, Achika Akatani. Now, as some of you know now, Achika and I aren't exactly strangers to one another. We both competed in GRANITE before it closed up shop. And, to be honest with you, she's never impressed me.
Yeah, she's a good wrestler or whatever. But she's also a stone cold bitch. And if I didn't know that because of her antics with Nina Grimsson, I certainly do with her choice in girlfriends. You know what they say. Birds of a feather flock together.
[Summer makes a face.]
Summer: But I want Achika to know that I'm going to be ready for her. If dealing with her skank friend taught me anything it's that none of their ilk is to be trusted. So, she'd better watch her step. Because, if she doesn't, well, with the mood I've been in lately, I might just take her [bleep]in' head off.
[Summer stops before a tiny boutique, "Alexandria Parker" written across the window in bright letters.]
Summer: And after I'm done dealing with her, Kyra, you just might be next.
[The scene fades as Summer enters the store.]
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5- "Jester" Chad Allen
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(We open back into the same boiler room we were in during the latest broadcast of EXPLOSION. The Hardcore GOD, "Jester" Chad Allen stands in the shadows, looking at the blood that covers his cane. His painted grin is matched only by the actual smile on his face, from an obvious job well done.)
Now do you all understand? You can't stop me. You cannot just lock me away. I will NOT let you forget that I am here. McGinty knows it, he isn't blind, he has felt some of my wrath. Grimsson understands that now. He has had my cane slammed into his head until he was left a bloody mess in the middle of the mat. And Eric, your whore sister may understand it as well if I have my way later on. Snowball understands it, because as sure as I stand here in clown paint, that waste of space would not have won that match without me targeting his opponent. Don't think for one solitary second, Snowball, that what I did was to help you. If I had the time, I would have been glad to splatter your brains on the mat as well, but I DEFINITELY had other plans.
(Jester gives the cane a twirl in his hands, a happy grin comes over his face once again.)
I want to wish both McGinty and Grimsson good luck in the NEWF TV Title match, not for a good match and a job well done, but good luck in the hopes that I don't feel the need to make my presence felt again. I want BOTH of you to be looking over your shoulders. I want both of you to be wondering where I might be, or how close I might be to killing one of you. I want both of you to wonder, is that light flicker just a power drop, or the beginning of the end. Because it will come, for both of you, sooner than you think. As far as I am concerned I am interested in this match for the chance to hurt both of you, and take that TV Title, so that they can NEVER leave me off of the big show EVER again.
(A small chuckle, Jester's eyes still looking over the cane, as if he is finding something new on it every time he looks at it.)
But this week, this week I am handed Dan Broussard as the sacrificial lamb. Danny boy, this is not personal. This is nothing but pure business, and my business is hurting people, and hurting them badly. You may not know my past, nor do I expect you to, but let us just say that I have shed blood on every continent on this earth of ours. I have been creating havoc for quite a few years now, and though you may be an excellent WRESTLER, you are about to get into the ring with the Perfect KILLER. No remorse, no shame, only destruction. I simply would not want to be you this coming EXPLOSION. So Danny, do what I warn everyone to do when they see me coming...
RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!
(The evil laughter echoes throughout the room as we fade to black....)
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6- "The Revolution" Josie Saito
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[Fade in.]
[The dressing room of "The Revolution" Josie Saito, following her Explosion match against Myra Benedict. The room is darkened, Josie sitting in a chair and still clad in her wrestling attire, her top splattered with blood. Her head is bowed, her long, raven tresses damp and obscuring her face. The sound of her voice suddenly breaks the silence.]
Josie: Brilliant, Myra. Positively Brilliant.
[With that, Josie whips her head up, her face bruised and nose busted, blood covering her mouth and cheeks. She smiles and licks her lips, a disturbing site amongst the gore.]
Josie: You have no idea what tonight meant to me...what _you_ now mean to me. For months, I'd bemoaned the state of this industry. I'd been forced to face untrained, incompetent fool after untrained, incompetent fool, never quite finding the passion...the challenge I'd been looking for.
Until tonight.
Until you.
Now, I see that I may have spoken too soon. There is indeed competition. I just had to look a little harder to find it. I suppose I owe the NEWF a debt of gratitude for pitting us against one another. Otherwise, how else would I have made this most fortunate of discoveries?
[She leans closer.]
Josie: It was truly exhilarating to face a woman that knows her own power, that understands violence and how to weld it successfully. Kudos to you, Myra. And Mr. Kisler too. He taught you well. I'm actually quite impressed and those that know me know that doesn't happen often. I just hope that my own students will be skilled enough to follow in your footsteps.
We took one another to the limit tonight, Myra, and I thank you. It has truly been a long time, since I've found the man or woman worthy to spill my blood. It was a dance that I won't quite soon forget and, to be honest with you, can't wait to do again.
[Fade.]
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7- Shadoe Rage
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[Fade in:
The shot opens on a man's back. His arms are thrown out wide. He is wearing a gorgeous robe made of dark crimson material with metallic black, fuzzy veins tracing the seams. A mass of braids spill down his back, some tied up with beads and trinkets. The back of the robes reads: ANGEL OF DEATH. He spins, quickly facing the camera. Black confetti explodes from his hands, showering the scene to resemble a fall out of ash. Right in the middle of the screen is the NEWF's newest signee, Shadoe Rage. He wears slightly tinted honey-coloured sunglasses and the intensity of his hazel eyes shines right through them.]
SHADOE: FREAK OUT! FREAK OUT! THE ANGEL OF DEATH HAS ARRIVED! The Angel of Death has arrived. Thank you Chris Hopper! Thank you, Chris Hopper!!! Let the celebrations begin. Shout out! Let the trumpets blow! The Gates of Heaven have opened up and the Angel of Death has issued forth!
[He breathes heavily, his shoulders and chest rising and falling in an intense rhythm. He removes his sunglasses so the whole world can see those insane eyes as the camera closes up on his face and shoulders.]
SHADOE: Flyking Will Geddings ... I don't know you ... No I don't. No I don't. No I don't. Do I need to know you? No I don't. No I don't. _NO_ _I_ _DON'T!_ Yeah, see, I've seen your type before. I listened to you talk once or twice, man. You seem to me to be a little arrogant. You seem to me to be a little entitled. You seem to me to be a little over full of yourself. You think you need to move on to bigger and better things? Well, you just GOT YOUR WISH!!!! Yeah, man, because you got put in the ring with the Great Shadoe Rage ... the Angel of Death himself ... the Enemy of the World, man. Thank you, Chris Hopper, for bringing me to the NEWF because I love setting guys like you in their place. Will Geddings, I don't care about you. I only care about one thing. That NEWF Heavyweight Championship. Yeah, that belt is destined to be mine. I promise you that. It's destined to be mine. I'm the greatest competition in the world. So great that the only person who can beat me is myself ... yeah, and I'm disinclined to hand myself a loss right now. Do you understand? Indiana is now Rage country. I'm declaring it right now!
[He stabs his finger into the camera. The cameraman, perhaps subconsciously, retreats, allowing Rage to display the impressive definition of his upper body as his robe gapes open and he throws his arms out to the side.]
SHADOE: Debut match, Will Geddings ... it's just me, you and all the Rageoholics out there. Yeah, they're calling for your blood. I hear them calling. Do you hear them calling? Go ahead, do whatever it is you do to make peace with yourself and get ready for your match. Make fun of my name. Make fun of your circumstances. Convince yourself that you have a chance.
[Shadoe wipes his right hand across his mouth. The action seems to settle his perpetually restless body for a moment.]
SHADOE: You go ahead and do that. Trust me, I like that, Geddings. I like when an opponent is motivated. It gives them no excuse when I cut them down. The reaping is about to begin. The Rageoholics are on fire! I'm on fire! And you, Flyking, are about to be assassinated! The King will die! Yeah, the King will die ... IN DARKNESS!
[With a flourish, Rage brings his hands together and then tears them apart. More black confetti spews forth in a black rain as the camera fades to black.]
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8- "Heavy Metal Hero" Erik Grimsson & "Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson
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[The scene opens to miday, directly in front of the famous Michigan Stadium, AKA The Big House. Here, we find a line of people in front of the will call window, a line that happens to contain NEWF siblings, Erik and Nina Grimsson. The two wait patiently in the line to pick up their tickets for the Michigan/Ohio State game, Erik dressed in a pair of ripped black and white camoflage pants, black Nike amateur wrestling shoes, and a blue Detroit Lions hooded sweatshirt. He wear his long blonde hair down and straight. Nina wears a pair of ripped and faded blue jeans, black Nike amateur wrestling shoes and a white Detroit Red Wings sweatshirt. As they stand in line, the "Heavy Metal Hero" and the "Mockingbird" are deep in discussion.]
Nina: Um...Erik, you do know that we have to be at Explosion in Cleveland the same day as The Game, right?
[Erik laughs at his sister's question.]
Erik: Nina, how could I not know that. But we never miss The Game. You know that's one of the family rules.
Nina: Of course I know that, but I'm just saying that this is a pretty big schedule conflict. We could very easily be late to the show.
[Erik merely shrugs.]
Erik: Dude, if we're late, we're late. But we don't miss Michigan/Ohio State games, period. Besides, Chad and Sonya will be there, as well as all of the Engineers. And you wouldn't let down your pee wee hockey players, now would you, coach?
[Nina now giggles a bit at the comment.]
Nina: You always hit below the belt, Erik. And no, I wouldn't dream of letting my boys down. I guess you're right. NEWF may just have to cut us some slack on this one.
[Erik smiles and nods his head in approval.]
Erik: That's the spirit, sis. Besides, the way I see it, we need this dose of Michigan if we're going to have to spend some time on the [MEEP]y side of Erie.
[Nina laughs loudly at this comment.]
Nina: Didn't think of it that way, but a very excellent point. However, whether in Ohio or not, I still am licking my chops at the thought of a little payback on Kyra Braddock.
[Erik nods his head, clearly agreeing with his Nina's sentiment.]
Erik: Yeah, and I can't wait to get my chance to crack Zeke McGinty's head open either. I just don't know why some people like to make the stupid choice of starting fights with us. Oh well, their funerals.
[Nina cracks a half smile at this and nods her head. She is on the same page as Erik.]
Nina: While I know that will be your number one motivation, don't forget that the TV title is up for grabs as well. That right there willl get you a lot more fights.
[Erik shrugs his shoulders at the comment.]
Erik You know, while I never worry about what titles come my way, believe me, that thought has crossed my mind. And more fights is always with me. Especially if it leads to another shot at that pussy, Chad Allen.
[Nina smiles.]
Nina: I figured it would be. And I'm sure you'll get your chance at him down the road. I understand how you feel, though. While I know I'll get another crack at Achika, I want it right now.
Erik: Well, I guess whenever we do get our chances, it'll be a very bad day for the person across from us.
[Nina cracks a malice filled smile and nods her head.]
Nina: Oh, indeed it will.
[Erik and Nina now get to the willcall kiosk as the camera fades.]
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9- Dan Broussard
=====================================================
[SCENE: A generic NEWF banner. Standing in front of it is a beaming Dan Broussard, fresh off his first TV victory, dressed in vintage college bar hopping clothes of pressed khaki pants, black sweater, white undershirt and leather jacket over top. He looks fresh out of the shower, hair still wet, and has a bag over his shoulder.]
DB: You know, they say you always remember... your first.
[A sheepish grin from Broussard.]
DB: Where it happened, what the place smelled like, what you were wearing, how it happened... you never forget your first time.
[Broussard puts his hands in his pocket, suddenly looking less like a wrestler and more like a philosophizing frat boy.]
DB: The funny thing about your first time is that it takes two. You can't just do it by yourself, you know. You can dream about it... and practice--
[Impish shrug.]
DB: But we all know that it doesn't matter how much film you watch, or how much time you spend practicing by yourself, it _never_ goes like you think it will. When you're in the moment, you sometimes forget all you know, or what you think you know, and go back to the one move you feel comfortable with. Hey, it looked good in the Japanese flick, and they walked you through it in the magazine, How hard can it be?
Yeah, okay, so I beat the metaphor to death with a shovel, but my point still stands. Your first time doing anything significant just makes you want to do it again.
Beating Joshua Black was my first win on TV. My first win that people actually saw on the little talking box. Makes you think of just how far you've come... and it makes you think, "Got-Damn, I need me another one of those."
You wrestled a good match, Black, and if you want to test your luck again, all you've gotta do is tell me where and when.
[Dan paces a step and scratches his head, taking off the jacket and throwing it off screen.]
DB: I got my win, and they're addictive as all hell. But Joshua Black is a different animal from Chad Allen. And if I'm going to get on a roll and get another win on the talking box, it's all about being adaptable and staying within myself. What's the game plan with a dude who wants people to think he's an evil clown?
[Shrug.]
DB: Don't fall for the smoke and mirrors. Don't get caught up with the anarchy he wants to thrive on, because in the end, the word on the marquee is _wrestling_. So I'll control what I can control and wait it out. Picking up on context clues has always sort of been a Broussard Family "thing", and there's definitely a few red herrings with this guy.
You want to wear face paint, with the comedy and tragedy masks on each side?
That leads me to believe Mr. Allen wants attention. He's going to want me to believe that he's "dangerous" and "insane" and "unpredictable". And yeah, you're pretty menacing when you're jumping a guy from behind with a club, I'll give you that. But when all the gimmicks are on the outside of the ring, I'm not going to worry about all the bull[BLEEP!] then. You'll get all the attention you want from me, Allen, and it won't be the kind you want. It's going to be the kind of attention that blows out knees and twists necks out of whack, the kind of attention that makes people not want attention anymore.
I respect you as a competitor for making it this far, for getting to the NEWF, but I just don't care all that much for clown motifs, parlor tricks and guys who hide behind wretched gimmicks instead of doing what we're here to do.
[Broussard goes off-screen and picks up his jacket, dusting it off and folding it over his arm.]
DB: I'm not real sure what kind of a wrestler you are, Chad, and I almost wonder if you know either. And I'm going to do you a favor this weekend, and that's by ignoring all of the outside, tertiary junk and busting your ass in the ring. And if you beat me, to put an end to my modest two match winning streak?
I'll tip my cap to you. And if I win, extending my modest winning streak by another match?
You can tip your rainbow colored wig and fake nose to me.
[A smirk from Broussard, who puts his jacket back on and dusts himself off.]
DB: Because the big red shoes might be shoved somewhere else.
[A chuckle from Dan, who picks up his bag and walks away, letting the camera dwell on the NEWF banner and then fade out.]
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10- "The One" Brian Young
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[Camera pans in too, two brothers leaning back after a hard day of training. As the camera zooms in you can tell that these are long time wrestling veterans, Brian and Brett Young. Brian is wearing a pair of white Fila track pants and an old school AWMC ‘The Storm has Cometh’ Brian Storm t-shirt. His short brown hair is matted down with sweat. He appears older than the last time he appeared on camera as throughout his beard white hairs are visible. Brett is wearing a pair of black Adidas track pants and a sleeveless white t-shirt, which shows off his veteran’s athlete build. Like Brian his medium length blond hair is matted down with sweat.]
Brian: Thanks Brett I really needed that work out.
Brett: I think you’re ready for the show. Just go in there and do what you've always done. You’re a Young this business runs through your veins. When you step in the ring it will be like you never stepped out.
[Brian smirks as he slowly nods his head.]
Brian: After seven years as a Storm it just sounds right to finally be known as a Young in the ring.
Brett: It's about time! I know you never saw eye to eye with the big guy, but you can't change who you are. Step in that ring as a Young and stand proud and do what you've always done best. Excite that crowd and electrify the arena.
Brian: You know I was always proud to be a Young, at least when you were in the ring. But you’re right the big guy and I didn’t always see eye to eye … I’m glad though that I was able to make peace with him before he pasted. If I didn’t I don’t think I would I have ever forgiven myself.
[Brian pauses for a moment and as he does so he rubs his beard.]
Brian: You know after being away for so long it almost feels like I’m a rookie again. Getting those pre-match butterflies …
[Brian cracks a smile as he laughs.]
Brian: Here I am at 30 feeling like I did when I was 23 breaking into the AWMC.
Brett: It happens, the hunger still lives in us all. Enjoy this, because you don't want to wake up as you climb closer to forty and miss the days you could wrestle circles around the man standing across from you. You still have the spark and talent to be at the top in this game. Don't let anything side track you. Go in there hungry like a rookie, but wrestle smart like a veteran.
Brian: I hear you old man.
[Brian chuckles as he watches Brett just shake his head.]
Brian: This David Rheaume, I don’t know much about him but from the promo I caught he just seems to want to go out there and prove that he is a wrestler not an entertainer. In a way he sounds like me, I mean I’ve been the best promo guy out there but the fans loved the way I handled myself in the ring … sure a few of them probably paid to see if I was going to survive the next bloodletting … I mean match Brian Bell put me in. But you could always tell they respected the way I busted my ass week in and week out and I don’t play to do anything less than what I know I can do in that ring.
Brett: In the end that's all that really matters. You'll do fine kid, just go out there and do what you do best. The rest will come back to you. It feels good to have the butterflies in the stomach again doesn't it? It lets you know you’re alive. It lets you know you’re hungry. It gets the blood pumping and when you hit that ring your adrenaline will be rushing through you at 100 mph. Just keep your head clear and wrestle smart. That's the "Young" way. Wrestle smart and always at 100%.
Brian: Of course at 100% there’s no other way bro. Bell to bell just like you and Chad taught me, doesn’t matter how much pain you are in, no matter how much of your blood is covering that mat, you give it all you’ve got till that bells ring. Just like we teach the kids here at the Zone, you leave it all out in that ring, cause you will always regret it if you don’t.
Brett: Sounds like you’re ready kid. I wish I could join you, but I'm not sure the old knee agrees. You go out there and make us proud and wrap that gold belt around your waist one last time. Leave this business as a Young and a Champion. There is no other way.
[Brian shakes his head as Brett finishes speaking.]
Brian: One more time as a champion, I like the way that sounds. This David Rheaume may have accomplished a lot elsewhere but he is not a Young and he’s never faced any one like ‘The One’ Brian Young.
[Brian looks at Brett.]
Brian: It’s just a matter of time before gold is once again in the house of Young.
[Brian and Brett smile as the camera fades to black.]
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11- Bloody Malthus
=====================================================
[ Bloody Malthus. He looks like the kind of guy who decided to one day go off and wrestle grizzly bears in the mountains for weeks on end with nothing but a pair of trunks and boots. And by beating the bears, he became grizzly himself, in looks and spirit. His thick, uncut brown hair and brown beard, thick eyebrows and masculine physique means he isn't a pretty boy either. Now he speaks, with his deep, grizzly voice...]
'Greatness Personified'?
Delusion Personified may be more appropriate Joshua. But who am I to talk? We're both with a 100% no-win records and we both want to turn that around.
You, in your mind, you think you've already won this. You genuinely believe you are so great. You walk to the ring with your flunkies and you'll break whatever rules there are to win.
That isn't greatness. That is WEAKNESS.
Weakness.
Weakness personified? Maybe it is. Winning outside the boundaries isn't winning. It says to the fans, "Look at me, I can't win this, I can't beat a man cleanly." Fine. Because with that attitude you'll fall Joshua, you'll fall.
And look how you're falling Josh...from the main event to practically being the curtain jerker. But then again you belong in the main event about as much as Larry Gionet does. Which is, not at all, ever.
How does it feel to be curtain jerking?
Me? I can live with that. Fair and square, I lost. I got carried away. I had Geddings and Steele down with the Satan's Song and the next thing I saw was Zeke's boot in my face and I'm picking up the loser's share of the purse.
But I came out of that match with my pride and integrity intact. Do you even KNOW what pride and integrity are Josh? Do you?
I doubt it. But it is what I fight with and it is why the fans cheer me. You may not think that's important but trust me, you can keep all your underhand tactics, the strength I get from the fans trumps whatever you've got.
I suspect being so low on the card really irks you Josh. The bad news for you Josh is that I'm not going to let you step on me to get up the rankings.
Why?
Because I'm going to beat you Joshua Black. And Blue.
[ Fade ]
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12- Zeke McGinty
=====================================================
[By now, you know the routine: A hulking mass of chew-spitting, tough talking, ugly looking human being steps in front of the NEWF backdrop. This hulking mass is, of course, none other than the Alabama slammer himself, ZEKE McGINTY, clad as usual in only the finest--and dingiest--trucker apparel that can be bought at the local Dollar Store.]
ZM: So it's finally down to you and me, Grimsson, eh?
[A God-awful smirk slowly spreads across McGinty's hardened veneer.]
ZM: Well, ain't like I ain't tell ya that this was the way it was gon' be. Ain't like I ain't predict that I was gonna run roughshod over those gaggle o' squawkin' geese Hopper seen fit to burden me with last week. Why, it seems that every damn prediction I made is comin' true, don't it now, Grimsson?
[His smirk widens.]
ZM: Now let's jest see what I can do 'bout that last part. Y'know the one--the part where I give ya the beatin' o' yer life on the way t' takin' _my_ NEWF TV title. But, see, there is jest one thing that is botherin' me, though ...
[McGinty removes his trucker's hat and scratches at his wild, unkempt mane before focusing a rather menacing glare at the camera.]
ZM: And that's Chad Allen.
[McGinty shakes his head with disgust.]
ZM: Now, the fact that ya got some sort o' beef with Grimsson ain't none of my concern. In fact, after I get done showin' him what the Tenth Circle o' Hell looks like, why, you two boys can go do whatever it is ya like to one another. But...
[He pauses before pointing one of his stubby, gnarled digits at the camera.]
ZM: ... until then, Allen, if'n ya lay one single solitary finger on him, if ya so much as cough around him, so help me God, ya will have me t' deal with, Allen, and that ain't no laughin' matter. Ask Dan Broussard, Bloody Malthus, Will Geddings, and Alex Van Steele 'bout what goin' heads up with Zeke McGinty does for a man. Let me answer that fer ya: Not a damn thing.
[McGinty begins to crack his beefy knuckles.]
ZM: 'Cause see, I don't want not one single excuse next week when I'm pummelin' Grimsson into a fine paste. I don't wanna have to hear him carryin' on 'bout how he wasn't in top form 'cause the two o' ya cain't play nice together. When I walk out of that arena next week with that strap 'round my gut, I want there to be no questions 'bout why or how I got it. 'Cause if there is, Allen ...
[McGinty gnashes his teeth as he tries to sustain his anger.]
ZM: ... if fer some reason ya get it in that twisted mind o' yours t' interfere in my match next week, if'n ya feel the gumption to walk down that aisle and get involved, just take my advice: Don't. But since ya ain't that bright and will most likely ignore that lil' tidbit o' wisdom, consider this: If ya do come down, boy, ya better bring some heavy lumber and knock me into Kingdom Come. 'Cause the moment I can git my hands on ya, it's over fer ya, y'hear me? _Over_.
[McGinty's crooked grin returns.]
ZM: 'Til then, Grimsson, it's jest you, me, and the TV title. And one way or the other, son, I'm walkin' outta there with it. The question ya got to ask yerself is how much of a fight ya wanna put up over it. 'Course, it don't really matter none 'cause yer tryin' to fight me is sort of like bringin' a butterknife to a gun fight. In the end, all it does it get ya kil'd.
[And with that said, McGinty spits a wad of tobacco on the once clean floor and exits the scene. Fade.]
=====================================================
13- Larry Gionet
=====================================================
[The camera pans into the office of Dr. McPhillips in Stoughton Massachusetts. Sitting on the stool is Dr. McPhilling and across from him sits Larry Gionet awaiting his results from the outcome of the match post NEWF Explosion.]
Dr. McPhillips: After reviewing your x-rays and careful evaluation this is more serious than we first expected Larry.
[Larry looks down at the white tile and rubs his forehead making it look like rigid terrain. He lets out a sigh before looking up at him again.]
Larry Gionet: Spare me the dramatic talk and cut to the chase.
[Dr. McPhillips raises his reading glasses a little bit flipping a paper over on his clipboard along with sticking up an x-ray up on the wall. Larry notices it is an x-ray of his spinal cord starting to fear the worst.]
DM: At first we thought you tugged your kneecap, but under further investigation it was strained severely. As a result it caused some massive wreckage in your lower back causing a cracked vertabre.
[Dr. McPhillips begins to talk again but Larry starts to filter out what his doctor is telling him. He is staring at the x-ray in near denial as he puts his head in his hands shaking his head left to right.]
It is my professional opinion and diagnosis that I do not allow your employer to book you until I give you conscent to enter the ring again....
[Gionet cuts the doctor off with his finger. He stands up looking at McPhillips squarely in the eyes. The doctor stands his ground being through this before.]
LG: You can give all the professional opinion you want doctor but this isn't your life its mine. I'm not accepting this diagnosis as a means to keep me out of action. Out of one of the most important times of my career.
[Dr. McPhillips shakes his head agitated and unsympathetic to the threats out of Larry's mouth. He places his metal clipboard and glasses on the table as he clasps his hands together.]
DM: I have seen you athletes before give me the same speech about how you don't want to accept what I spent years studying and years working on. With the pressure you put on your back the risk is much greater. You could risk paralysis. Do you really want to put your health at risk?
[Larry looks up at the ceiling trying to compose himself. He lets out a loud sigh before rubbing his thumb and forefinger against his chin.]
LG: You don't get it do you doctor? Do you want to know how many times I've been told not to do something because of potential risk? It's happened my whole life. It would be a disservice to my fans if I quit because of a potential danger. I'd lose all my self respect if I stopped now. The world title is my destiny and wrestling is my life. To hell with your prognosis!
[Larry Gionet makes a beeline to the door not before giving one last snide look at Doctor McPhillips. He slams the door closed as McPhillips shakes his head annoyingly as we fade to black.]
© 2007 NEWF Productions, a subsidiary of Cooler Than Ice, Inc.
