1- "FlyKing" Will Geddings
2- "Jester" Chad Allen
3- Sierra Browne
4- "Cold-hearted Bastard" Frostbite
5- Shadoe Rage
1- "FlyKing" Will Geddings
<<The scene opens to Will Geddings. He is looking downwards, the bridge of his nose cradled between his thumb and forefinger...his hand serving as a resting point of some sort. There is a noticeable red wound on the side of his face.>>
[Geds]: Unfortunate...seems to be the word that I can best use to describe SlamFest.
<<Geddings looks up.>>
[Geds]: I cut through the NEWF rankings. I face game competitor after game competitor. I pin the NEWF North American Champion. I pin Bloody Malthus. And what do I leave SlamFest with? A headache.
[Geds]: But we'll get to that in a moment. First...Van Steele. I could sit here and make excuse after excuse. I could claim how I was beaten thanks to your salty treachery. How the referee never gave me the obligatory three count to determine whether or not I was out. How my road to the championship was harder than yours...all standard fare for the one who comes up on the short end of the stick.
<<Geddings shakes his head>>
[Geds]: But I'm not gonna do that. No, Van Steele, the fact of the matter is that you won. At the end of the day, that's truly all that matters. It doesn't matter that you didn't pin me. It doesn't matter that I didn't submit. You've got the belt, I do not.
[Geds]: Perhaps I should re-evaluate my modus operandi when I hit the ring from now on? Does crime pay? I like to think not...but then, the proof is in the pudding. So now the question will become: is the old dog ready to learn a few new tricks. I think the answer to that one is a resounding yes.
[Geds]: I am prepared, I think, to do everything that is necessary to have that belt. I want...no, I need that strap. I think I'm willing to do anything to get it. Notice, though, I said think. I think I can stretch the bounds of what is decent. I think that I can learn to mock and sneer and hate...in short, I think I can become Alex Van Steele.
<<Geddings runs his hand over the wound on the side of his face>>
[Geds]: And Frostbite will be the perfect guinea pig...the perfect chance to determine what I am capable of. The snowman seemed to think that running out onto a show that he could not qualify for and laying both Van Steele and myself out made him worthwhile. In fact, just the opposite is true.
[Geds]: Maybe you thought that I'd play this game with you, chillynipple. Maybe you thought that I'd keep your name on my lips by laying me out. That sort of garbage may work over in ICWF, but not here. I'll do this little match with you, friend, and that's that. I will beat you. Plain and simple. And then you'll go back to doing whatever it is your worthless ass has been doing here since the federation's inception.
[Geds]: You'll be lucky to make the next PPV. Assuming you're still with the federation. Not winning matches, though, that makes you expendable.
[Geds]: Enjoy the two to three minutes that you're in the ring with me, snowman. You'll be conscious for two/thirds of the time, I'd imagine. Understand that that is as close as you will ever get to being worthwhile in NEWF. Now, I need an Excedrin...
2- "Jester" Chad Allen
(The screen is black, but we hear a voice)
Well well well, Danny Boy, who did you piss off?
(And with that we open to see the top "heel" of the NEWF, the Wicked Clown, The Hardcore God, the Ultimate Supervillian, "Jester" Chad Allen, sitting atop his carved wooden throne. He is smiling, which can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on his psychotic mood swings. He twirls his cane in his left hand, and rubs his painted chin in his right, as if deep in thought.)
JCA: I mean, REALLY, it has been two or three weeks, and you have to fight me AGAIN? Sucks to be you.
(A small laugh escapes his lips, as that evil grin spreads across his face, but that quickly is snapped right back into the stone faced deep thought he was in before.)
JCA: You see Danny Boy, you are what is known as "Wrong Place, Wrong Time", and though that is an amazing cliché, it works quite nicely here. Because, you see, young one, you are going to be the first person to be standing in front of me when my Blood Game starts, and you are going to be the lucky first contestant, or the guinea pig, if you like. I am going to test the boundaries of both human suffering, and the pain that I can inflict on a person. I want to see what I am truly capable of, and to do this, I cannot be bothered by titles, money, or rules, all of those simply get in the way of my game.
(An evil smile slowly appears on the Jester's painted face. His eyes close, and he sits back, almost in a dream like state.)
I want to make you suffer.
I want to make you scream.
I want to make you bleed.
I want to break your bones.
I want to tear your flesh.
I want children to cry, mothers to sob, and fathers to be angry.
(Jester snaps out the trance a bit, and looks directly into our living rooms)
JCA: And it all starts with you, Danny Boy. I hope you are proud. I want you to call your family and friends, and have them watch. Tell them about how you are going to slay the big dragon, like the knight in shining armor you think you are. I want your Mother to brag about how proud she is of her boy, becoming not only a wrestler, but a CHAMPION. But gold fades, title holders are forgotten just as soon as the next person takes the belt. But the man that can make an impact, the man that can do something so amazing, so spectacular, or so disturbingly horrible...
(Another laugh, a broad smile.)
JCA: He lives forever. People like you are trivia, a person forgotten to the past. Not saying you aren't a good wrestler, Danny Boy, but you aren't memorable. I, however, will be spoken amongst, not wrestlers, but men like Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, and Ed Gein, I am going to be the serial killer of professional wrestling. Before I am done, my name will strike fear in most, and respect in a disturbed few that understand what this Blood Game is all about, and Danny Boy, soon enough, you will get to understand, FIRST HAND.
(Jester sits back in his chair, eyes closed, back in a trance.)
JCA: Run for you life, Danny Boy, run for your life.
(Fade 2 Black)
3- Sierra Browne
The screen flickers to life and the goes black.
With a screech of white noise the image comes back to life. The quality of the picture is different, however. It is not standard video camera, but the grainy quality of film. The image reveals two women who look very much alike. One holds a video camera on the other. She is long and lean, nearly six feet tall with dark brown skin and finger-waved curls closely cropped to her skull. She is dressed in dark blue jeans and a pale blue blouse. She is quite pretty, in a feline way, but the woman next to her seems stunning. Both possess the same oddly-shaped skull, long in the back with a high rounded forehead. They both sport closely-cropped manes. They both sport pixyish upturned noses with narrow bridges and broad nostrils. Their mouths are near the same: full and thick. They are obviously blood. But that's where the similarities end. The woman without the camera is simply the lightning rod for attention. She is Sierra Browne. She is known by many nicknames: "The Show", "The Truth", "Champ". Whatever the name, it is clear that she can be summed up in one word: gold. Gold like her wrestling gear: bandeau top and booty cutter shorts. Gold like the championship belts she has collected throughout her career. Gold like the script drawing itself across the bottom of the screen, reading in telltale: Sierra Browne.]
SB: NEWF, welcome to the future! Your next champion has arrived. Sierra Browne, the greatest woman's wrestler of all time, has come back to take her rightful place back. Indigo, how does the shot look?
[Indigo, the woman with camera, gives the thumbs up. With that, Sierra snaps her fingers and the shot cuts to the feed from the high definition camera. The flashing LED REC blinks in the bottom corner of the screen.]
SB: And why is the NEWF blessed with my presence? Why you might ask? Well, it's because I am on a very simple quest. I am on a quest to regain my position as the greatest women's wrestler of all time. Of late, I haven't had enough exposure and women like Nina Grimsson have been all over the place, lapping up the crumbs that I left behind. Nina Grimsson? Are you serious? Does she really think she's that big a name? That she's that big a wrestler? No, she's not better than Sierra Browne. Trust me when I tell you that. That's why I had to give her a little dose of the Truth at SlamFest. I saw what she did to Dalbello. She tried to kill her. I was there backstage waiting to shake the hand of the winner and tell them that I was coming for that title. What I saw out there was a disgrace. Nina, you showed your true colours out there. You weren't at all about winning the title. You tried to injure a fellow wrestler. I don't know, maybe you've been spending too much time burning yourself on Japanese fire blossoms, or maybe you just realised that you couldn't hang any more. I don't know. You're not like that in Toronto. I have respect for your performance up there. But down here, you've been a lot out of control and somebody needs to civilise you. That's why I put you down. You didn't deserve a handshake. You didn't deserve to be treated like the wrestler I thought you were. You needed a dose of the "Truth" and you got it, you rabid dog.
[Sierra shakes her head in disgust.]
SB: I will tell you this. There is still a place in this world for armbars and leglocks. There is still a place in this world for competition. There is still a place in this world for clean wrestling. And I will show you all exactly why that is. Now, I face off against Summer Blake. Summer, I tell you this, bring your "A" game because I am bringing to you what you bring to me. Only better. Tonight, I will show you all what women's wrestling is supposed to look like. The Queen is here. Everybody else, it's time to fall in line. I bring you back to civilisation. Cut and print.
[The image snaps off suddenly. And we are left with black.]
4- "Cold-hearted Bastard" Frostbite
[ We see the first thing flashing on the screen is a picture of a silver shovel wrapped in barbed wire.]
# STATIC #
[ As it fills up the screen as the image of the shovel soon fades out but for only a few seconds. ]
# STATIC #
[ The screen is still filled with some much static that we aren't too sure if we can get this image back up.]
# STATIC #
[ After a few more minutes of a static screen it finally comes into focus, but once again we see the silver shovel wrapped in barbed wire, but the camera zooms in as we see that blood is dripping off the barbed wire at right onto the floor.]
# DRIP #
[ As blood spots hit the floor. The shovel is shaking as if someone might just be wiggling it back and forth. The camera zoom up as we see a hand holding the shovel. The shovel continues to violent shake back and forth, as the blood from the barbed wire goes a few feet and hits up against the white wall right behind the shovel.]
[ The camera moves just slightly to the right as it sees a gentleman wearing long blue tights, and black boots with a evil grin on his face. As the camera zooms in we see that it is Frostbite.]
Frostbite: I TOLD YOU HOPPER THAT I WOULD MAKE YOUR NIGHT SOMETHING THAT YOU WOULD NEVER FORGET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[ Frostbite holds the barbed wire shovel high up and over his head.]
Frostbite: Hopper, you thought that I was just going to go away after you put your best wrestler in a DARK MATCH. You thought I would be happy that I bet the hell out of a nobody, and just send him packing that I would not make some type of impact on your little PPV.
[ Frostbite slams the shovel to the ground.]
Frostbite: Well Hopper want do you think of the Cold Hearted Bastard right now. I bet you are hiding behind some cabinets in your office in hopes that I don't find you. You are hoping that after I destroy your World Champion that my cravings will be quite satisfied. WELL HOW WRONG YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[ Frostbite picks the shovel up.]
Frostbite: Hopper remember back on Ground Zero radio it was you that said that I didn't have any talent. Well, I bet your thoughts have change haven't they. You know I have loads of talent, that is why you won't step in the damn ring with me. You know that I would take you apart piece by piece. Hopper you never were the wrestler that I am now. I bet you are asking yourself at this very moment what in the hell have I done. You Hopper have created a monster. A monster that is going to beat the hell out of the entire NEWF locker room until you meet my demands.
[ Frostbite pauses.]
Frostbite: First off, I want you in the ring. I want to show you just what really would happen if we ever step in that ring together. We both know that I would wipe the arena floor with you. It is a fore gone conclusion. I will certainly have your blood on my damn hands. I will make you suffer like nobody has ever made you suffer in your entire career. If you should do so, than I will not harm in more wrestlers on the roster. But fail to listen then I will continue to take a member of your roster out each week until you step in that ring with me.
[ Frostbite slams the shovel to the ground.]
Frostbite: Number two, quite simple I want a shot at your World Champion. Again that shouldn't be too hard to put together.
[ Frostbite points to the shovel.]
Frostbite: After all I am sure your champion is probably quite pissed off at the fact I took this shovel and bash his skull in with this bad boy. I am sure that Van Steele is at your office as you speak and demanding to put me in the ring with him. I am sure you are telling him that he will get his chance all in due time. That you are going to put others in his way first before I get that chance at him. You can tell Van Steele that I am not a hard man to find that all he has to do, is put the title on the line I am there. Van Steele don't take it too damn personal it is all business my good man. You should be in Hopper's office and beating the hell out of him for me beating you senseless after all the man did screw me out of the title in the first place. So Van Steele anytime my good man you want to step in the ring with me, than be my damn guess as long as the title is on the line than I am there.
[ Frostbite slams the shovel into the white wall behind him.]
Frostbite: Randy Acorn. My god man it as been awhile. The last time I saw you in a ring was when I was beating the hell out of your ass in another company. I am betting that Hopper has brought you into the company to take care of me. He wants you to try and stop him. Randal you should know with you time put in that other company that it is going to take a hell of a man or a damn army to stop my ass. You know when I have my mind made up I can be unstoppable, at Acorn you aren't the man to get the job done. Whatever money that Hopper has promised you, it isn't worth a damn cent to get your ass handed to you by me. My advise take the damn money and run, my good man. Because if you choose to get in my way again, than the ass kicking that I gave you before will be so much worse this time around.
[ Frostbite rubs his arm across the barbed wire as it cuts his arm.]
Frostbite: Geddings, you have said some bad things about me in the past. Well you it your chance to see where you stand in this business. We both have won a few World titles, but trust me when I say that in a couple of weeks you are in the wrong place and quite simply the wrong time. If you think that you are going to stand in my damn way of getting what should be mine at that being the World title. That you are a bigger damn joke than I really believe you are. You can say that you are in for the fight of your life would be the biggest understatement in your entire career. Geddings just like I told your boss earlier your blood will be on my hands. It is nothing personal, but it you must be dealt with. Nobody just like your worthless boss tells me that I don't have any damn talent. Geddings you will see if you have what it takes to stand in that ring with the most ruthless bastard on this planet. The answer is that you don't stand a chance. So on the ninth, show me what you have. And in the end it will not be enough.
[ Frostbite watches the blood from his arm drop onto the floor.]
Frostbite: Hopper, all of what I am about to do to your locker room is all on your head. I hope you can live with yourself. I hope you can sleep at night, because I know I can.
[ Frostbite picks up the shovel as the camera zooms down as we see a trail of blood on the floor as he leaves the area, as the scene fades out.]
5- Shadoe Rage
Dave Lowry stands before the NEWF backdrop. He, as always, looks very serious about his job. And maybe even a little perturbed by what he has to deal with next.]
DL: Ladies and gentlemen, my next guest came within a second of becoming the NEWF Television Champion at SlamFest. Now, he goes into action against Bloody Malthus, the man who doesn't know the meaning of the word quit. Ladies and gentlemen, my guest at this time, Shadoe Rage.
[Enter stage right. The sign slides into the shot and all we can see are Shadoe Rage's hands holding it. The sign reads: RAGE COUNTRY/RAGE IS KING with some crudely hand drawn squiggles and sparkly appliqué stars. The sign travels right and then left before hovering in the centre of the screen.]
DL: Another sign that you took from a fan?
[The sign drops and Shadoe Rage looks at Dave Lowry as if he is seeing a strange new, person-faced bug. The Black Jesus is decked out in a form-fitting black T-shirt with Brian Who? Written across the chest. He wears silver-framed honey-lensed aviator glasses. His braids are twisted into individual strands and are pulled back into two pigtails.]
SR: (incredulous) What you think I would make something like this myself?
[Lowry's only response is roll his eyes.]
SR: Let me tell you something, Lowry. A man in my position doesn't need to make crude signs. He is his own sign. I _am_ Shadoe Rage and this _IS_ Rage Country and I am King of My Country. Do you understand? Do you understand? Do you understand?
DL: (scratching his head) I pretty much get it.
SR: Good. [Rage reaches out and chucks Lowry's tie.] Another sale at the 99 cent bin? Good for you, Lowry.
DL: (exasperated) What about Bloody Malthus? Anything relevant to say on your upcoming match?
[Shadoe Rage seems taken aback by the display of disrespect. He rubs a hand over the back of his head and sighs deeply.]
SR: Shadoe Rage does not have time to discuss men who refer to themselves in the third person. Shadoe Rage thinks it's the sign of incipient personality crash.
[Now he just stares a hole through Dave Lowry, watching expectantly.]
DL: I know you, Shadoe Rage. I'm sure you've got more on your mind than just that.
SR: Bloody Malthus ... we seem to be ... uh ... how would you say ... opposite sides of the same coin. You see, we're the same height and the same size. I'm faster. He's stronger. We both draw our strength from the cheers of the fans. That's about all that we have in the way of similarities. The rest are pure differences. Intense differences. I'm a much better dresser. I'm a winner. He's a loser. And everybody knows it. As a matter of fact ... you, come here!
[Rage snaps at someone off stage. The object of his attention is a mousey redhead hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses. As she steps in front of the hard camera her body seems to shrink in on itself. She looks down, embarrassed to be before the big screen and the millions of viewers.]
SR: You, woman, what's your name.
W: Liza, sir. Liza Beth O'Malley.
SR: (smirking) Ms. Liza Beth O'Malley look into the videoscope and say "Goodbye you big ugly bear."
LBO: (stuttering) Goodbye you big ugly bear.
[Shadoe Rage slides behind her and leans down to whisper in her ear.]
SR: Yeah, that's Bloody Malthus. For all his ranting and raving he's going to lose to Black Jesus on February 9, 2008. Do you understand? Now get out of here.
[And with that he shoves her out of the frame. Dave Lowry is outraged.]
DL: Now see here!
SR: NO YOU SEE HERE! Yeah, the God has spoken. Bloody Malthus is absolutely no competition at all. It takes more than strength and ferocity to conquer a wrestling God, Lowry. Yeah it does. Yeah it does. He flopped on the big stage. I shone light the brightest of lights that I am. Liza Beth O'Malley knows. The Rage-oholics know. And Bloody Malthus knows. I will take his strengths and neutralise them and defeat him. I am the one. I am the greatest.
[Lowry seems disgusted by the words of Shadoe Rage.]
DL: Can I ask you about your T-shirt?
SR: (fingering the cloth) It says "Brian Who?" That's right. Brian Who?
DL: You are of course referring to the "One" Brian Young. I understand that there was an altercation between the two of you at Fan Fest.
SR: Altercation? There was a little discrepancy. [His eyes glow brightly with disgust.] Actually there was a big discrepancy. And when I see Brian Young again I will make sure that discrepancy is of biblical proportions.
DL: Sounds like the two of you have some unfinished business.
SR: Unfinished business. That's one way to say it. This business between us will never be finished. Not until one of us ... him ... is out of this business forever. Believe me when I say that. But right now, Brian Young is a side issue a mere distraction because the main point of emphasis right now is beating that big ugly bear. Bloody Malthus, you may have survived lions, tigers and bears, but you will not survive Black Jesus. No you won't. You step in that ring to die, Malthus. You will die in darkness!
[With that Shadoe Rage raises the RAGE COUNTRY sign over his face again and exits stage left, leaving a perplexed Dave Lowry.]
DL: There you have it. This is a match up of two very bizarre and driven individuals. Who prevails is anybody's guess.
© 2008 NEWF Productions, a subsidiary of Cooler Than Ice, Inc.