The camera flies into the arena, panning around to cheering fans, signs up, and more, as the SHOOT Project is LIVE for Revolution 167 with the quarter and semi finals for the Master of the Mat tournament!
Eryk Masters: That’s right ladies and gentlemen, we’re here in the Epicenter and we’re liiiiiiive for more Master of the Mat. Just to give you a quick rundown, we’ve seen some CRAZY shit from night 1!
Other Guy: You know it, E. With some fan favorites like Lindsay Troy and Azraith DeMitri coming through, an underdog like Jamie Johnson, and the powerhouse Void making it into the quarters, you know that it’s going to be a good time here tonight!
Eryk Masters: We’re getting right into it with the quarter finals and Ayumi Seppuku kicking things off against Buck Dresden!
Ayumi Seppuku Vs. Buck Dresden
“GONNNNNNA BE A BLACK OUT!”
Unexpectedly, VALOR’s Pat Cassidy’s theme song rips through the arena’s speakers. As The Dropkick Murphys do their thing, the man himself appears at the entrance way, wearing street clothes. Cassidy takes a few slow steps toward the ramp with his arms raised high, soaking in the decent sized round of applause from the audience in appreciation of his gutsy return last week. Cassidy is rocking out along with his theme and encouraging the fans to increase their cheers… when he suddenly stops. He looks around. He holds up a finger to the people as if to say, “hold please.” He disappears back through the curtain?
…and reappears with a folding chair and a cooler! To a chuckle from the fans in attendance, Cassidy pops open the chair at the top of the ramp and settles himself right in. He calls for the music to cut out as he reaches into the cooler and produces a cold one. With his other hand, he reveals a mic was tucked in his back pocket. Pat holds the mic right up to the beer can so it picks up the always satisfying CRRRAAAAACK as it opens.
Pat Cassidy: Your boy’s back, kids.
Pause for the cheers.
Pat Cassidy: Now, before I get to the big whoopin and hollering and threatening to kick everyone’s ass and some good ol’ fashioned PRO RASSTLIN… I’m wondering if you’d give me some time to do something a little bit different? You see… I’d like to tell a story.
Cassidy leans back a bit in the chair, looking around to the fans as if gauging their reaction to this proposal. Satisfied, he continues.
Pat Cassidy: You people know what it’s like to feel useless?
A beat. That’s not the typical Pat Cassidy verbiage. Cassidy lets the question hang in the air for a few seconds.
Pat Cassidy: Cause I do. I’m sure a lot of you do. You know what it’s like to be the C- student that the guidance counselors shuffled off into the dumb classes cause the world needs more gas station attendants? How it feels when your principal tells you the happiest days of his professional life are the days you don’t show up and cause trouble? When the grey-haired old judge with the stupid mustache looks down at you from the bench with a look that says, “I’m gonna be seeing a lot of you, kid.”
Cassidy is getting visibly agitated. He leans forward in the chair, getting closer to the mic and narrowing his eyes.
Pat Cassidy: When you roll out of bed to stand behind the grill for eight hours for some prick that wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire? When you decide to keep the party going for hours after the bar closes because the alternative is going home and facing the cold, hard reality that you’re living on a mattress in your buddy’s roach infested basement?
A pause. A long sip of beer followed by rubbing of the chin. The fans aren’t sure what to make of this.
Pat Cassidy: This isn’t a sob story. This isn’t the Pat Cassidy Pity Party. I’m trying to lead up to one simple truth here, kids: pro-wrestling saved my ass. It took a kid who had absolutely fuck all going for him and showed him a path to something better. That need to be the class clown, to always be the center of attention that my teachers called annoying? Well, in wrestling that’s called “charisma.” Ready to fight at a moment’s notice and not gonna stop until somebody puts you down and out? In wrestling that ain’t being a trouble maker… that’s called guts. It’s a place where a jackass like me can feel useful and not a fuckin’ burden.
Another sip. A smile.
Pat Cassidy: When a promoter in Dorchester scooped up my 6’2”, 240 lb ass and put me in a pair of wrestling trunks… well, he fuckin’ saved my life.
Cassidy stands up from the chair with new resolve. He’s looking around as he talks, as if trying to make eye contact with the entire arena.
Pat Cassidy: Pro-wrestling is the only damn thing I’ve ever tried to be good at. That I wanted to succeed at. That gave back to me all that I put into it. And I worked my ass off. Was it hard? Sure was. But for the first time in my life, boys… I had purpose.
Another sip.
Pat Cassidy: …and success! I won’t go too far into detail, but a few years ago I got my big break down in New Orleans. The kid from Southie was finally on TV. National TV! Before you know it, I was on Pay Per View. For the first time in my life, my bank account wasn’t spending half its existence overdrawn. I won a national championship. I was voted Rookie of the Year. I became a god damn business owner! They told me I was the #33 wrestler in the world! For the first time ever, my life was trending in the right direction. And you know what happened next?
Cassidy’s face darkens. He tosses the first beer and opens a second.
Pat Cassidy: I let it all go to my head. That’s right – little Paddy Cassidy thought he was the shit. I was Mr. Ballyhoo Brew. The Saturday Night Special. A world tag team champion. I was #33, dammit. Your boy felt fuckin’ untouchable. And I decided to branch out a bit, right? Leave my comfort zone. Took a second gig – here at SHOOT Project.
A pop!
Pat Cassidy: And what happened?
Cassidy barks out a laugh before taking another swig.
Pat Cassidy: I. Shit. The. Fucking. Bed.
Awkward silence. Again – that’s not where people thought this was going.
Pat Cassidy: Oh, don’t get me wrong. I did okay. Maybe a nice, respectable C+. But take a look at my SHOOT record – not exactly setting me up for the Hall of Fame anytime soon, are they? You know why?
Cassidy crumbles the beer and throws it angrily at the stage.
Pat Cassidy: BECAUSE I CAME IN SOFT! I wasn’t hungry anymore! I tasted success elsewhere and decided it was time to rest on the ol’ laurels. And SHOOT Project saw fit, pretty fuckin’ rightfully, to shove those laurels right up my ass. I joined up with Lindsay Troy’s VALOR group because, hell, LT has been a mentor and a friend. And it seemed like maybe things were looking up for ol’ Cass in the SHOOT Project.
Cassidy regains his composure. He turns. Looks directly into the camera.
Pat Cassidy: And then The Unholy Cyber Dickheads decided they smelled blood in the water. I can’t blame ‘em. They saw this new, bitch-ified version of Pat Cassidy, and saw easy pickings. They wanted to send a message. They kicked my ass. They left me broken… they left me beaten.
A small gleam in his blue eye.
Pat Cassidy: But I ain’t dead.
A pop from the crowd for babyface resilience!
Pat Cassidy: Fact is, I should thank you boys. That ass kicking I took woke something up inside me. Laying on that arena floor, dude… it’s like the heavens opened up and a light shined down. And that light said: “get thine shit together.” It forced me to take a damn hard look in the mirror. To realize that the “Black Out” Pat Cassidy that has been walking these SHOOT halls the past few months ain’t who I am. I’ve been watching the footage of that attack for weeks. Cause laying there at your feet? That ain’t who I am. I’m a fuckin’ fighter. I’m a fuckin’ menace. And I’m gonna thank you guys the only way a guy like me knows how…
Cassidy tosses the mic, folds up the chair, and begins to march toward the ring and the fan’s ovation begins to grow! Sliding under the bottom rope, Cassidy plants himself in the center of the ring facing the entrance. He spreads his arms wide while still holding the chair, and although he is no longer mic’d up, we can still make out what he’s saying…
Pat Cassidy: COME GET SOME, BOYS!! LET’S DO THIS!
Emerging not from the entrance ramp but a maintenance section of the Epicenter, to a thunderous wave of boos, are three hulking figures. Cassidy catches sight of them immediately, but the lighting and cameramen scramble to catch sight of the three: CYBER Power Devil. CYBER Superbeast. KIMO. The brawniest members of the Unholy Breedlove Empire hop the rail, the Cyber Army shouldering their championship belts, all grinning as they eyeball the clearly ready to rumble member of VALOR.
Eryk Masters: Across from those three, Pat Cassidy isn’t showing any signs of backing down!
Other Guy: I know! It’s like he’s still all fuzzyheaded from the last time these guys took him on! Hey dummy! There’s more of them than you!
All three hop to different sections of the apron at once, and the crowd noise starts to go electric as Pat looks from one man to another–and then dashes towards Superbeast, sending the big man crashing to the floor with a wild chairshot!! KIMO and Power Devil hop the ropes and advance on him–but Cassidy drops the chair and turns, stops Apana with a quick boot to the gut, then ducks under a Power Devil haymaker–and pops back up with a beauty of a bodyshot to the ribs!!
Other Guy: Guys! Hit him!
Eryk Masters: No other way to put it, and I still don’t see how he gets out of this, but Pat Cassidy has won round one against three men!
Cassidy puts up his dukes with a smile and waves KIMO and Power Devil in, goading them to come on, to a raucous cheer from the fans. Power Devil tears off his Gold’s Gym tank top in a huff, then cracks his neck as he and KIMO both begin backing the smaller man into the corner. Cassidy doesn’t back all the way into the turnbuckle–He gets stopped by the massive mitt of Superbeast, who has clambered to the apron again, blood absolutely pouring from his nose. Cassidy turns to face him–as soon as he does, KIMO shoulder checks him in the back, causing him to tumble forward–and his neck to be grabbed in a double choke by the man he bloodied!!
Other Guy: There we go!
The crowd starts to scream as, in a display of sheer strength, Superbeast lifts Cassidy off the ground by his neck! His feet kick wildly, and his hands swing for the big man’s face, but he can’t quite reach! As he struggles, his face turning more and more red, KIMO and Power Devil begin LAYING rough forearms into his back and ribs! Superbeast rears his head back and drives it forward as he pulls Cassidy to him and BURIES his forehead into his face!! He drops the man with a crumple as both members of the Unholy Cyber Army raise their arms and scream to the rafters, and the crowd boos with renewed vigor!
Eryk Masters: This is absolutely uncalled for, and–wait a minute! Coming from the entrance, that’s Lindsay Troy! The other half of Drunk and Disorderly and Cassidy’s VALOR stablemate is here to even things up!!
Troy bolts down the ramp and makes it into the ring with a slide, meeting KIMO Apana, who attempts to plead with her to stay away. She cocks back and spins him with a cross shot to the jaw–but as he stumbles away Power Devil BLINDSIDES her with a running kick to the face! Her skull practically gets stomped to the mat in one move!! She attempts to roll to her feet, but Power Devil dives and drives his knee into the side of her head! Stunned, Troy gets hauled to her feet, and both members of the UCA snatch an arm each…and dive as they WHIP Troy HARD into the corner, causing her to crash into Cassidy’s body!!
Eryk Masters: Either the rest of VALOR makes an appearance right now, or this is going to get ugly again!
Other Guy: This is what happens, Eryk! They made this bed!!
Eryk Masters: When did they do that, when the Unholy Cyber Army attacked them the first time?!
Back in the ring, the members of the Empire have surrounded the corner, where Troy and Cassidy are gathering themselves and looking at their enemies with enraged defiance. Power Devil calls for a mic, and one is thrown to him–there’s a rattle of the audio input being activated, and then his voice screaming into it.
Power Devil: CURS!! The combined might of The Demons of Cyber Roppongi and KIMO could leave you broken! Cowering! Suffering!!
He pauses. Troy and Cassidy are on their feet and adopting stances, still unsure of where this is going.
Power Devil: But to prove…what?!
He hands the mic to Superbeast.
Superbeast: To prove that we can destroy you?! We’ve done that!! To prove that we’re stronger, more violent, willing to break all who oppose us upon our backs and knees until they are forced to bow in supplication?! We’ve done that!! To prove that on the biggest stage with the very crowns of tag team wrestling on the line, that we are truly the better team and the undisputed kings of this division?!
A pause.
Superbeast: That! We! Have! Not!!
He tosses the mic to Power Devil, who leans close, grinning.
Power Devil: Lindsay Troy. Pat Cassidy. If you dogs are ready to be vanquished in the one true gladiatorial arena, then at the pay per view, you will face us! The Demons of Cyber Roppongi!! The Lords of Hell!! The Unholy Cyber Army, for the Tag Team Championships!!
As Superbeast and KIMO turn to walk away, he shrugs his shoulders.
Power Devil: Or decline like cowards, and we’ll settle for any parking lot, rock quarry, loading dock, or boiler room!! No escape! Not now…not ever.
He drops the mic as “Body Hammer” cues up, and Power Devil holds his arms out wide in a dare as he walks backwards. Troy and Cassidy yell some choice words towards him and the other members of the Empire, but the thunderous heavy metal drowns them out. The Unholy Cyber Army and KIMO make their way towards the back as we cut away…
Lindsay Troy Vs. X-Calibur
Voice: This is a travesty! This is a clear example of ableism! I demand to speak to Human Resources or a union representative!
Standing out like a sore thumb that’s been sunburned is Blaze Claymore, shouting into the void of the nearly empty hallways of the SHOOT Project Epicenter. He waves his arms at a couple of stage hands and some guy named Frank who is a week away from retirement – trying to get their attention.
Abigail Chase: Mr. Claymore! Hey!
SHOOT Project’s own backstage reporter swoops into the scene with microphone in hand as the SAG Award Winning Actor runs his hand through his hair, snagging a finger on the elastic band holding his ponytail back.
Abigail Chase approaches Blaze and puts the microphone in his hand, a heavily-breathing camera operator following behind her.
Abigail Chase: How are you feeling? Fans have been asking ever since after your cardiac event following your loss to Courtney Hatchett.
Blaze Claymore perks up.
Blaze Claymore: People have wanted to… make sure I’m OK?
Abigail Chase: Uhhhhhh…. surrrrrrrre. But… more importantly, what’s this I hear about a company dispute? Can you tell us more?
Blaze Claymore: Of course! I want the people to know how crooked this company is. I want my fans to know that ME, Blaze Claymore, was somehow left off the list for Master of the Mat this week. It’s unconscionable! I’m the biggest star this company has – the only one with an appearance on reputable shows like Law and Order: Small Claims Court or CSI: East St. Louis!
I am who the fans want! Not…
Blaze reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper and holds it out in front of him.
Blaze Claymore: Az… raith DeMitri? Ig…natius Albert Martin? Those aren’t real names.
Abigail Chase: But… isn’t your name is Blaze…. Claymore?
Blaze Claymore: EXACTLY! That’s what I’ve been trying to say! YOU get it.
Voice: I’m sorry to intrude but are you OK Ms. Chase. I heard a lot of… high pitched yelling.
A familiar mask appears from off camera as none other than Johnny Patriot – who hasn’t been seen in MONTHS in SHOOT Project – steps into frame and looks from Abigail Chase to Blaze Claymore with arms crossed.
Blaze Claymore looks taken aback by this interruption.
Blaze Claymore: Excuse me, who are you supposed to be? Spanky Doodle Dandy or something? The S&M convention is a couple blocks over – can’t miss it. Now… as I was saying…
Johnny Patriot: Um. I think you’ve bored Ms. Chase, and tonight’s crowd, chewing the scenery quite enough already, so why don’t you just let the real wrestlers take care of things in the ring?
Blaze has gone from taken aback to flabbergasted.
Blaze Claymore: I will NOT be insulted by someone who looks like the Gimp from Pulp Fiction and Super Dave had a love child. Who the fuck are you anyways?
Johnny Patriot: Johnny. Johnny Patriot.
Blaze Claymore: That’s… just awful. No creativity. Do you pledge allegiance to the flag and hate the Soviet Union too?
Johnny Patriot: I mean… you…. like the Soviet Union?
Blaze Claymore: THAT’S NOT THE POINT!
Abigail Chase looks at the camera operator and motions for them to leave as Blaze Claymore and Johnny Patriot continue to trade insults. The camera backs away but puts the two back in frame as a heavy *THUD* – the sound of one of Patriot’s boots hitting the cement wall behind Blaze Claymore – can be heard.
Blaze Claymore: Hah! A key tactical mistake! Do you know how dirty this arena is? Don’t come crying to me when you get HPV and your career is ruined. That’s why Sean Connery really retired, you know?
Johnny Patriot: Sean Connery was an American Legend! Don’t besmirch his name!
Blaze Claymore: An Amer… oh my dear summer child. I didn’t realize you were here as part of the Make-a-Wish program. Let me get you back to your seat. I’m sure your legal guardian is very worried about you.
Abigail Chase: PSST. HEY! Let’s GO.
The camera swings around to find Abigail Chase motioning and speed walking away from the scene. The camera operator follows, catching one last remark before the feed cuts:
Blaze Claymore: You take that BACK about Mario Lopez!
Jamie Johnson Vs. Jacob Mephisto
“Hey!”
Backstage.
“Turn that camera on!”
Out in the Epicenter, the SHOOTtron remains black, but the female voice is familiar: full of fire and bile, having come to the aid of her partner earlier in the show. When the visual finally comes on the big screen, the Faithful in attendance roar at the sight of the duo who they’ve affectionately dubbed “Drunk & Disorderly:” Pat Cassidy and Lindsay Troy.
They’re posted up in a hallway somewhere: Pat’s got his hands on his hips, Lindsay’s pacing. When the cameraman finally signals that they’re live, she stops and glares daggers through the lens.
Lindsay Troy: For the last two months, all I’ve heard from the Unholy Cyber Army is “Cower and Suffer” this and “Break and Bow” that. Over and over again. One time you two got the jump on Pat and I. ONE TIME. That ain’t NOTHIN’. While he was on the mend, I’ve been turning your onslaught away. You tried to take out Judy-E, and I was there. You tried to impose your will on the both of us in a tag match, and you got NOWHERE. Now you think you one-upped the kid (slaps Pat’s chest) because you had the numbers advantage? I DON’T THINK SO.
Pat Cassidy: You know, maybe I didn’t make myself clear out there. Sometimes I go off on a tangent – that’s on me. But you know what’s on you? This issue you’ve started. Cause boys, you’re gonna have to kill me to end this – and now that LT and I are joining forces, you don’t stand a chance.
Lindsay Troy: Superbeast and Power Devil, we very obviously accept the pay-per-view match, and we can have it wherever you two want. You want to tussle in the ring? That’s fine with me. You want to dance out in the parking lot, go no holds barred? I’ve got no problem with that either. Nothing brings me greater joy in this world than cutting men down to size who think they’re immovable objects. I’ve already shaken up your foundation. The cracks are starting to show. At Master of the Mat, Pat and I are gonna write our names in SHOOT Project’s lore with your blood and take your ten pounds of gold in the process.
Pat Cassidy: God, this is gonna be so fun…
Cut away.
Azraith DeMitri Vs. Void
Your butt is mine
Gonna tell you right
Just show your face
In broad daylight
The siren call of 1980s Michael Jackson blares over the SHOOT Project speakers as Blaze Claymore makes his way down to the ring – interrupting the Master of the Mat proceedings – with microphone in hand.
Eryk Masters: What…. Why? What goddamed gypsy curse did I unleash to have this guy in SHOOT Project.
Other Guy: I am pretty sure you can’t call them gypsies, Eryk. It’s insensitive.
Blaze Claymore slides into the ring, microphone at the ready, as he smiles and holds his arms out, taking in the crowd reaction which is nothing but jeers and boos.
Blaze Claymore: Yes. Yes. I know… BOOOOOOLAZE! BOOOOOOLAZE! I love it, you guys. Thank you for such a warm welcome back following my unfortunate medical emergency that prevented me from defeating Courtney Hatchett. If I was at 100 percent health I certainly would have been victorious that evening.
The crowd jeers.
Blaze Claymore: However; I am not here to rehash the past. No. I am here to discuss the future!
Eryk Masters: Why isn’t anyone stopping this?
Other Guy: We get it, Eryk, you’ve got a boner for Blaze. It’s alright to admit it.
Eryk Masters: Excuse me!?
Other Guy: It’s his t-shirt slogan? See? #BonerforBlaze. It’s one of the most… it’s one of the best…. it’s…. it’s one of several new items currently available at the SHOOT Project Shop.
Blaze Claymore: Ladies and Gentlemen and… others. I will make this quick and I will make this succinct.
Eryk Masters: Thank god.
Blaze Claymore: As you no doubt know, I was unfairly left out of the Master of the Mat tournament despite being the clear headliner for such an event. And I am… sorry. I am so sorry that you have had to endure this important event without having Blaze Claymore in the ring.
Blaze reaches up to wipe a dry tear from his eye.
Blaze Claymore: So… I’ve come here to write this wrong. I am here to announce that in two weeks I will be hosting my OWN tournament. I call it … Master of the Matt!
Other Guy: I feel like that’s copyrighted…
Eryk Masters: Wait… Does he mean…. M-A-T-T?
Blaze Claymore bows to a crowd who is very confused.
Blaze Claymore: This tournament will feature yours truly, Blaze Claymore, facing off in a gauntlet to defeat any and every person who wants to take on my challenge named Matt. Whoever wins, which of course will be ME, will obviously then become… Master of the Matt… or Matts… whichever.
Eryk Masters: Sweet jesus.
Blaze Claymore: UNLIKE the ivory tower, undemocratic, Master of the Mat tournament, this is open to ANYONE named Matt who thinks they can defeat me. So, when I win I will be able to challenge the Master of the Mat winner as the Master of the Matt champion!
So… who wants to take the first opportunity to face me?
Eryk Masters: There’s…there’s some commotion in the backstage area!
The camera cuts to the back, where Johnny Patriot stands next to Gorilla, arguing with the sound operator.
Johnny Patriot: Play my music! Play my music!
Sound Guy: You…you don’t have any music!
Johnny Patriot: Just play… SOMETHING!
The sound guy’s scroll wheel is burning in the mouse as he finds something.
Sound Guy: Anything?
Patriot looks around, antsy.
Johnny Patriot: ANYTHING!
The sound guy smirks as he clicks on something. Suddenly…
AMERICA!
AMERICA!
AMERICA, FUCK YEAH!
COMIN’ AGAIN TO SAVE THE MOTHER FUCKIN’ DAY, YEAH!
The theme song from Team America: World Police is blaring over the PA system in the arena. Johnny Patriot stumbles out from the back, not sure what to make of the music. The fans in the arena explode as he rights the ship and charges down to the ring! Patriot slides into the ring under the bottom rope and hops up to his feet quickly.
Blaze Claymore cocks his head in confusion looking at Johnny Patriot.
Blaze Claymore: I’m sorry for this intrusion folks. It’s very clear that mental cognition is not this gentleman’s manifest destiny. After all, I’m declaring a “Master of the Matt,” not “Master of the Johnnys.”
Claymore says, using finger quotes. Patriot shouts something at Blaze who shrugs and tosses Patriot the microphone.
Johnny Patriot: My name in this ring might be Johnny Patriot, Blaze Claymore, if that is your real name…
Eryk Masters: You know damned well it isn’t.
Johnny Patriot: But the name on my checks is Sullivan… Matthew Sullivan!
Blaze looks around the ring, incredulously. Johnny Patriot just smiles at his counterpart.
Johnny Patriot: You. Me. Master of the Matt. TONIGHT.
Other Guy: I… he knows this is the Master of the Mat semifinals right?
Eryk Masters: I don’t think either of them can see beyond their own egos right now, OG.
Blaze steps forward, bringing the microphone in Johnny’s hand up to his own mouth.
Blaze Claymore: Actually, I DID about that and I think we’re going to need to do this OFF Broadway. If you catch my meaning.
Johnny Patriot: Oh. But we’re in Las Vegas.
The two men stand there for a moment, letting the undercard wash over them. Johnny Patriot nods.
Johnny Patriot: Fine. You. Me. Master of the Matt. Soon!
Blaze Claymore crosses his arms in amusement as Patriot then turns to leave. As he does, Blaze grabs his arm and spins Patriot around! Blaze swings his arm back to strike Johnny Patriot, but Patriot blocks it! Patriot lifts Blaze up!
ATOMIC DROP!
Blaze goes flying, clutching his undercarriage! Patriot watches his foe roll out of the arena and to the floor! Johnny Patriot stands tall in the middle of the ring, raising his arms to the sky.
Other Guy: I’m not sure who the winner there was, Eryk, but sounds like Claymore vs. Patriot is on the docket… SOON.
Eryk Masters: Oh. Goodie.
Jamie Johnson Vs. Azraith DeMitri
“MAKE WAY FOR THE KING!”
Eryk Masters: It would appear that we’re being joined by the CURRENT number one contender… Joshua Breedlove.
“Make Way for the King” by Ohana Bam takes over all the noise in the arena as red, gold, and black streamers and confetti explode when the 808s kick in on the theme and the UNHOLY BREEDLOVE EMPIRE makes a MASSIVE show of force by appearing all together at the top of the ramp. Breedlove walks out last, splitting the group in the middle, microphone in hand. He shushes the music and the crowd, who is booing him relentlessly, by motioning for quiet with his hands.
Joshua Breedlove: Hello hello! Why yes, it is I, your NEXT World Heavyweight Champion… along with the CURRENT and REIGNING World Tag Team Champions… the FORMER Shut Up and Fight Champion… and… Clemson Dean. THE UNHOLY BREEDLOVE EMPIRE IS IN. THE. HOUSE.
The crowd boos at him.
Joshua Breedlove: Oh my god, thank you guys so much for the warm welcome. I do so love you too. I want you all to know that as your NEXT World Heavyweight Champion, I have been watching the Master of the Mat tournament with a LOT of interest. Even if I DON’T somehow defeat NEMESIS and capture that belt, I will most likely be targeting whomever wins this tournament. Cuz, you know… I’m obsessed with winning and being the best. Maybe it’ll be my fuckpal Lindsay Troy, thanks for New Orleans, by the way… Maybe it’ll be Real Deal-lite, Jamie Johnson… who knows, perhaps it’ll be my old friend, Buck Dresden… all I know is… one way or another?
He smiles, looking around at the rest of the Empire.
Joshua Breedlove: You will ALL bow to the king.
He tosses the microphone aside as “Make Way for the King” hits the PA again and with all that pomp and circumstance, the Unholy Breedlove Empire makes its exit!
Eryk Masters: There you go, folks. The current number one contender letting all other comers know that he’s going to be looking at whoever wins, whether he’s the World champ or not.
Other Guy: You think he has a shot at knocking NEMESIS off?
Eryk Masters: No, not at all.
Other Guy: Me either.
Lindsay Troy Vs. Buck Dresden
The bell rings and the fans are both stunned and erupting simultaneously. Lindsay Troy leans against the ropes staring at Buck, who is up on his knees. He stares at her until a voice breaks his concentration.
Samantha Coil: HERE IS YOUR WINNER…AND ADVANCING TO THE 2021 MASTER OF THE MAT FINALS…LINDSAY…TROOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!
The fans are still decidedly elated for the VALOR member. “Put ‘Em In The Grave” by Jedi Mind Tricks is playing. She continues to watch Buck Dresden, who now paces the ring in frustration. She wants to be excited at what’s transpired here tonight. She knows she’s halted a freight train in Buck’s onslaught. He stands there with his hands on his hips and then turns to her.
Buck Dresden: Get up.
He glares at her as she does so. The wily vet she is, she’s well aware this can go several different ways. She’s known Buck Dresden to be an honorable person but the man has been through so much of late, his rage is palpable in his every movement. He walks over and gets in her face, seething with all the emotions that have carried him to this moment in front of her. He balls up his fists at his sides.
She holds out her hand. What happens next could change things for the both of them. He looks down at the hand and then to her again.
He wraps his arms around her. She returns his embrace. “Put ‘Em in the Grave” kicks in again as he breaks the hug and holds her arm up. She tilts her head to the sky in exhaustion as he points to her to celebrate her victory.
Eryk Masters: Lindsay Troy’s just been through hell tonight.
Other Guy: Just in time to face the Demon at Master of the Mat!
Eryk Masters: Azraith DeMitri and Lindsay Troy are our finalists, ladies and gentlemen. I can’t wait to see what happens next!
Other Guy: NEMESIS versus Joshua Breedlove, Buck Dresden versus Arthur Pleasant, Lindsay Troy versus Azraith DeMitri, I mean the show’s just getting more and more packed!
Eryk Masters: On behalf of everybody here at SHOOT Project, we’ll see you at Master of the Mat! Goodnight, everybody!
We close on Lindsay Troy standing in the middle of the ring, her arms up in victory.