Rowland Collins walks down the hallway of the Epicenter, a plain black t-shirt over his chest. His walk is with a purpose and his face is stoic. Collins takes a turn and slows his tracks as he realizes his twin brother Michael was heading directly for him. Michael wears a black Empire t-shirt, with golden lettering.
Michael Collins: Rowland! Just the lad I was lookin for.
Rowland puts his hands up to stop Michael.
Rowland Collins: Mikey…I need to talk to you. I…
Rowland pauses, looking around. As his hands drop, Michael puts up his own.
Michael Collins: No, listen to me. Our entire lives you’ve been the calm, calculated one, who takes forever to commit to anything, and I have had to wait for you EVERY TIME. But this time is different. This time is mine. I’m sick and tired of playing second fiddle to you. What’s that gotten us? Tag Team gold we don’t even talk about because it’s irrelevant in the one place that matters? GREAT WORK, Rolly.
Rowland starts to narrow his eyes at his brother.
Michael Collins: Oh, please, don’t give me that. You know it’s true. We had to leave SHOOT Project because our careers were so stagnant they had nothing for us, and we came back as a nostalgia pop and a way to bring in Long Island Hardcore. Do you think they actually wanted us? Or just wanted to use us as a way to get one of the greatest tag teams in SHOOT Project history back for a cheap pop?
Without a response, Michael throws his hands up in the air.
Michael Collins: Breedlove wants us. Breedlove knows what we are. He knows what we bring to the table. He wouldn’t have extended us the opportunity if he didn’t want us. He’s got me. He wants you. But, boyo, I need you.
Rowland shakes his head.
Rowland Collins: You don’t need me.
Michael sighs.
Michael Collins: Look, Rolly. It’s the first Revolution of the New Year. Some punk ass kids are about to go out and talk about how they deserve the world and all the gold in it. Now, I don’t know who it’s going to be, but you know it’s going to happen. We’ve been doing this so long, we should be at the top of the Tag Team Championship food chain. I’ll be ready to show them what comes with dreams of grandeur. Are you going to leave me to the wolves, or will you be by my side?
Rowland looks at his brother. Michael pats him on the shoulder. The scene fades.
EP.: 218
DATE: 01.13.2025
ARENA: THE EPICENTER
PRE-MATCH
TRANSACTIONAL RELATIONSHIPS
Eryk Masters: Jason, it’s 2025 and we’re kicking this whole shebang off with the World Tag Team Champions, the Devil’s Advocates defending against the team of Curtis Rose and Alexander Vaka. It should be interesting for sure to see what Rose and Vaka can do against the champs, but I understand we have a special report from Abigail Chase backstage, so before we get this one underway, let’s take it to Abigail. Abigail?
The screen switches to Abigail Chase near the dressing rooms in the arena holding a microphone.
Abigail Chase: That’s right, Eryk. Obviously there have been some wild goings on to end 2024 and tonight, we’re gonna start off 2025 with a bang. And speaking of starting with a bang, I was made privy to some very interesting footage from earlier today. As you all know, one half of the Devil’s Advocates, Jeffrey James Roberts… or JJR… is kept strictly under lock and key as he is transported from location to location for strictly legal and frankly safety reasons. You may also have rightly assumed that there are many security measures in place, including security cameras. Well, I was tipped off earlier this evening that something interesting happened near JJR’s holding cell. Let’s take a look.
The screen briefly has static go across, then opens on a still view pointing from a raised corner near a holding cell. Light from outside the cell reflects on the plexiglass that makes for the wall facing us, but we can still see well enough to notice Jeffrey James Roberts sitting cross-legged inside with his back to the glass.
There is complete silence at first, but within a few moments we hear footsteps. Whoever is approaching the cell stops just outside the view of the camera, but Roberts’ interest is piqued, though he stays in place, with his back to the visitor.
Jeffrey James Roberts: Hmm, Arthur? No, someone else. How interesting.
There is no response, so Roberts stands straight up vertically, then cocks his head slightly to one side, and slowly turns, his expression stoic. Even after locking eyes with his visitor, his expression doesn’t change, and his gaze stares like two lasers.
After a moment, his eyes widen slightly, and he allows a bemused smile to cross his face.
Jeffrey James Roberts: Hello. So nice to see you again.
Hearing this, the visitor steps forward a few more paces, and the camera now shows us a full side-profile.
JOSHUA BREEDLOVE.
Joshua Breedlove: You ever think about what it would be like to just… not have to sit in this cell? You know, you could just… walk around freely, do cool dude things like eat when you wanna eat, sleep when you wanna sleep, fuck when you wanna fuck… all that?
He walks further into view, keeping his eyes trained on Roberts, who also has his eyes locked in with Breedlove. Listening.
Joshua Breedlove: I mean, I know I would, in your situation. Or do you like this whole setup you have going on? Like is this working for you or…?
Roberts lets a few beats pass. Breedlove waits patiently. Roberts finally takes a slow few steps forward, closer to the glass. Breedlove doesn’t flinch, and Roberts’ eyes open ever so slightly more.
Jeffrey James Roberts: I haven’t been sitting in this cell out of a desire for comfort. I’m not the sort of man that society feels should be… walking around freely, as I’m sure you know. Somebody thought this cell was a good idea, or else I would still be in the bottom of a dark hole somewhere, paying back a debt to society that could never, quite frankly, be paid. It makes no difference to me. But this cell is a marked improvement, actually, despite appearances. Still…
Roberts takes one more step toward the glass.
Jeffrey James Roberts: You sound like a man with a proposal. I do like to keep an open mind.
Breedlove nods, smiling.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m about to be relatively engaged in what’s most likely to be a prolonged battle with Laura Seton. While I have my good friends at the Empire, what I would like is someone I can count on to just… give me that little bit extra when it comes to presence. Show up in places that are unexpected and unsettling, maybe mix it up physically if the situation requires it. Things like that. But most importantly…
He pauses.
Joshua Breedlove: I need someone who can operate outside of the Empire’s bounds, so to speak. I have a significant chit to call in with SHOOT’s offices, soooo… I think if you’re willing to be that person for me? I can get you out of here and walking amongst the free once more.
Roberts stands in place and thinks. He clasps his hands behind his back and keeps his eyes firmly fixed on Joshua Breedlove. His eyes flit downward very quickly, then return straight forward, looking directly into Breedlove’s eyes.
Jeffrey James Roberts: You’re looking for a weapon.
Breedlove says nothing.
Jeffrey James Roberts: You want to keep your hands clean, and in exchange you’re offering me my freedom, knowing full well the inherent dangers of such an action. You are fully aware then of what I am capable of, and what could happen to the other members of this roster? Of course you are.
Roberts smiles slightly.
Jeffrey James Roberts: In fact, it’s what you’re counting on. I can appreciate a purely transactional relationship. As long as you understand that every time I encounter another human being is another time that I must restrain myself from carving out that person’s skull and mounting it in a trophy case.
Breedlove’s eyes ‘twinkle’ slightly, but he says nothing. Roberts smiles at this, knowing he’ll get no tacit admission from the wrestling legend standing in front of him.
Finally, Roberts nods.
Jeffrey James Roberts: Very well, Mr. Breedlove. I accept your offer.
A grin creeps over Breedlove’s face, definitely pleased with the outcome. He takes a couple of steps back, indicating that he’ll be making his exit and parts with one last note.
Joshua Breedlove: Wonderful. You’ll start this week.
Roberts nods slowly, then turns and slowly walks back to the center of the room…
Jeffrey James Roberts: No time like the present.
… and sits back down, cross-legged.
Breedlove lets out a short chuckle as he turns and walks out of camera range.
Static crosses the screen as we return to Abigail Chase.
Abigail Chase: Interesting footage to say the least gentlemen. Back to you.
Jason Johnson: Wow… that was… something.
Eryk Masters: Hard to know what to think of that footage. We’ve seen how dangerous Jeffrey James Roberts can be. The idea of him having free reign around here is a little frightening to say the least.
Jason Johnson: I had a feeling we’d be in for some trouble after what we’ve seen from Joshua Breedlove lately, but it sure looks like we’re in for a lot more after this.
Eryk Masters: Well, I guess we’ll all need to be looking over our shoulders with that psychopath running free. Meanwhile, that psychopath is headed out here in just a moment for a tag team championship match.
“Slum Planet” by 3TEETH hits the Epicenter’s speakers and out walks Arthur Pleasant. Former Iron Fist Champion and current reigning one-half of the Two-Time SHOOT Project World Tag Team Champions!
Jason Johnson: Looks like it’s gonna be Arthur Pleasant out here first…
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Eryk Masters: My sentiments exactly, Las Vegas.
Jason Johnson: With losing the titles on the final episode of Ruination from Real Deal and Eddie E, then winning them back the following night on Revolution, The Devil’s Advocates, or should I say Arthur Pleasant, have made it known that they are the Kings of the Tag Team division.
Eryk Masters: Fuck that.
Jason Johnson: Well, to play–
Eryk Masters: Oh God, you’re gonna say it, aren’t you?!
Jason Johnson: Yeah but no puns, I swear!
Eryk Masters: Fine. Go for it.
Jason Johnson: Just to play, err, Devil’s Advocate for a moment– their SNAFU with the Brass aside, and really that was a dumb, egotistical move on their part, Arthur really isn’t that wrong. You look at all the teams they beat in 2024, and it really is a who’s who of the SHOOT Project Tag Team division.
Eryk Masters: Winning the tag titles twice AND being 2024 Masters of the Mat? I can see why Arthur would have a stick up his ass about The Punch Line being voted the Tag Team of the Year. God I hate agreeing with anything TEETH has to say.
There’s a gentle tapping of a microphone. Upon which everyone has come to the realization that Arthur has a microphone tucked into the waistband of his ring gear.
Jason Johnson: Oh no.
Eryk Masters: He’s probably going to reiterate EVERYTHING you just said, too. Goddammit, Jason.
Arthur Pleasant: THIS IS SOME FUCKING BULLSHIT!!
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Arthur Pleasant: We’ve beaten them ALL. SHAWARMA. ATOMIC PUSS. THE BOLTONS. THE UTIs. HEXAGONERS. AND WE STILL AREN’T VOTED THE FUCKING TAG TEAM OF 2024?!
The audience laughs at Arthur’s frustration.
Arthur Pleasant: Did we need to go to DEFIANCE and snuff out The Hollywood Bruvs, The Saturday Night Specials, and Lucky 7’s as well?! Because we damn sure would’ve, and fucking eh COULD’VE!
Pleasant stops in his tracks to look at the Epicenter’s capacity crowd.
Arthur Pleasant: If starting out 2025 means dumping another worthless team on their heads just for you stupid fucking inbreeders to vote Chadwick Kyle and Payaso De La Muerte the Tag Team of 2025, then so be it. We get it. We’re… too good… and you’re all too envious to set aside your blind hatred for us to make way for the truth.
We are the best goddamn tag team SHOOT Project has seen in years. Maybe ever. Sad Ass Brotherhood, who? Beautiful Pissholes, what?! Instant Shart, huh? Fuck all of that noise.
Seething, Arthur holds his half of the tag team titles up for the world to see before slithering into the ring.
Arthur Pleasant: Nobody can touch us. Nobody can come CLOSE to being as good as us. And when we put Axel Rose and Alexander Fuckass down for the count in about ten seconds? Well… consider it the start to another year of absolute DOMINANCE from the best tag team you’ll never want to recognize. Now sit down, fuck off, and go choke on your fifteen dollar hot dogs while my BEST FRIEND JEFFREY makes his way out!
Arthur throws the mic down as he shakes his head, holding up his half of the tag team titles for the world to see.
Eryk Masters: Arthur Pleasant, ladies and gentlemen, subtle as always.
Jason Johnson: It’s quite the balance when you think about it. His partner hardly says anything while Arthur says enough for both of them and then some.
Eryk Master: I can’t argue with that, nor would I, but to be honest I’m too concerned about how much Arthur Pleasant wants to talk right now. Right now I’m a little nervous about the idea that we’re a few moments away from an unchained Jeffrey James Roberts coming down to the ring for this match.
As if on cue, “Goldberg Variations” by Johann Sebastian Bach starts playing, the soothing tones echoing throughout the arena.
Heads turn toward the stage as everyone stands in anticipation following the footage shown a few minutes before.
For the first time in SHOOT Pro, Jeffrey James Roberts steps out slowly onto the stage… without any guards around him… without any zip ties around his wrists… fully free… unencumbered… his SHOOT Pro World Tag Team title hanging from one hand… eyes trained expressionless on the ring ahead of him.
Eryk Masters: I don’t know about you, man, but a chill just ran down my spine. I don’t feel all that safe right now.
Jason Johnson: You and me both, man. But surely there are some kind of precautions in place that we just don’t see right now, right??… Right?
Eryk Masters says nothing. He just watches in silence as Roberts walks down the aisle toward the ring. About halfway down he stops suddenly and turns his head toward the fans on one side. His cold icy stare causes a group of them closest to the railing to surge backward in fear, not sure what he’s about to do. Roberts, however, stands still in place, then turns his head back toward the ring and continues on.
Eryk Masters: Jesus, man…
Jason Johnson: I’m pretty sure Jesus has nothing to do with any of this…
Fans crawl over themselves trying to get back to their seats where Roberts had stopped, and a security guard in the crowd tries like hell to restore order. Roberts just keeps walking slowly, approaching the ring where his partner is standing there waiting with a huge toothy grin.
He reaches the ring finally and places his belt on the apron, then turns and rolls sideways under the bottom rope to the inside, snatching the belt and rolling to a sitting position all in one motion, then crosses his legs and sits still, the belt across his lap.
TAG TEAM MATCH
WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS
CURTIS ROSE
ALEXANDER VAKA
VS.
ARTHUR PLEASANT (c)
JJR (c)
Backstage
REACHING CLIMAX
The feed cuts to a professionally-dressed Mary Kelly, holding a SHOOT Project-branded microphone and standing against a fresh-looking step and repeat.
The interviewer flashes a smile.
Mary Kelly: Jason, Eryk, I am here with half of one of SHOOT Project’s most… curious tag teams.
The camera zooms out to reveal Remy Garden, cloaked in a bubblegum pink robe, standing confidently off to the side.
Mary Kelly: Now, Remy, we haven’t seen much of you in the ring or out of the ring lately. And, we’ve seen even less of you and your partner, Claude Bouchard, as a pair. Is the French Connection prepared tonight to take on a team like the Neon Sai-
Remy Garden: Apologies, Mary, but I am not quite sure what you are implying. Are you to say that Claude and I are…
Remy throws his hair backwards over his shoulders, doing his best impression of Ariana Grande as Glinda (or is it Galinda?) from Wicked.
Remy Garden: Abnormal?
Mary blinks, confused, but eventually continues.
Mary Kelly: I… no. It’s just… well, we don’t know much about you. Either of you, actually. I notice your partner isn’t here, but if you had to describe your team’s dynamic, your aspirations, here in SHOOT, what would they be?
Remy reaches up and strokes his chin mindfully, his gaze half tilted upwards in thought. After several seconds, he looks back to Mary and jumps into a dramatic pose, extending his arms outward, his head upward, and his pelvis forward.
Remy: LOVE!
Mary is at a literal loss for words as she just stares at Remy Garden, who, conversely, was hoping for a bit more excitement at his proclamation.
Mary Kelly: Wait… Remy, are you saying that you and Claude are-
Remy spins gracefully, reaching out and caressing Mary Kelly’s cheek in a completely platonic and non-aggressive way.
Remy: Oui, Mary. We are in love with the SHOOT Project fans. We understand their need. Their desire. Their… yearning for team that is not just able to compete in the ring, but has the passion to inspire and jubilate.
Remy’s eyes are wide and alert, his chest heaving faster and faster.
Remy: Oh, Mary. Won’t it just be wonderful?
Mary, once again, is at a loss for words as she nods slowly out of pure fight or flight response.
Mary: Y-yes… It is always great to have a team that the fans can get behind. You think that… the French Connection will be able to achieve that?
Remy smiles, still caressing Mary’s face. He retracts his hand and places it over his chest. His eyes glisten as he turns to face the camera directly and cocks an eyebrow.
Remy: Oh, Mary… when all is said and done? Claude and I will reach the…
Remy takes a deep breath.
Remy: Climax of SHOOT Project’s tag team division.
Remy smiles.
Remy: But like any good climax, you’ve got to … put in the work. And tonight is when that work begins – taking on the Neon Saints. Whatever the outcome, I can guarantee everyone in the crowd will get a… happy ending.
Mary is so entranced by Remy’s words she just lets him stand there, hand on his chin, for an uncomfortable length of time until suddenly she snaps out of her stupor and the camera pans back to keep a tight shot on her.
Mary: Well, there you have it folks. Love. Passion. And… maybe a climax if the French Connection can take care of business tonight. Back to you, Jason and Eryk.
Backstage
BLOOD DON'T MEAN SHIT
We cut backstage to the talent parking lot as a large black truck rolls in, pulling to a stop at one of the furthest empty parking spaces. The driver’s side door opens to reveal a familiar face…it’s Jesse Kaine, younger sister of Josh Kaine.
Josh Kaine: Damn, Jess. You’re learnin’ a lot faster than I did!
Jesse Kaine: It’s a big beast to drive, but those lessons in the desert really helped.
She gives her brother a broad smile as he pulls his duffel from the bed. Jesse hands over the keys, following him towards the talent entrance.
Jesse Kaine: You’ve got a big match tonight, right?
Josh Kaine: Sure do! First real chance at a title belt here in SHOOT Project. You’re gonna be cheerin’ real loud for me, right?
Jesse rolls her eyes, shaking her head with soft laughter. What a dumb question.
Jesse Kaine: Of course I am, you dumbass. You’re my brother, I have to cheer for you.
Josh wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a brief side hug.
Josh Kaine: Eh, I know better’n most that you don’t have to cheer for someone just ‘cause they’re blood. Remember that match I showed ya last week from when I was in EWA?
Jesse nods.
Josh Kaine: Moe’s sister was fuckin’ nuts and put me in the hospital for a couple days. He wasn’t cheerin’ for his sister or me. Thought I was fuckin’ dumb as hell for thinkin’ I was ready to take her on in the first place…and he was right. I was nowhere near ready to be steppin’ in the ring with main-eventers back then.
Jesse Kaine: Yeah, I guess you’re right.
Josh Kaine: ‘Cause I am, ain’t right all the time, but this time, yeah…I ‘ppreciate your cheerin’ me, but you know firsthand blood don’t always make for good relationships. I got a mountain to climb tonight, but I’m more’n ready for this match.
He pauses, holding the door open for her before following Jesse inside.
Josh Kaine: Speakin’ of mountains, stay up in the suite with Nate and ‘em tonight. Don’t need to be givin’ folks any reason to try’n use you against me–much as I don’t like it, ain’t gonna put nothin’ past no one with these folks who have it out for Ms. Laura.
Jesse Kaine: You really think they’ll try and hurt me?
He gives her a grin, stopping in front of his locker room.
Josh Kaine: I’m hopin’ they’re smarter’n that, but if they do…I’m gonna bring teeth and claws and Ragnarok to their fuckin’ doorsteps. Now c’mon, I gotta get changed and I’ll walk ya up to your seat.
We cut back to ringside.
TAG TEAM MATCH
TAG TEAM MATCH
STEVIE SAINT
DJ SAINT
VS.
REMY GARDEN
CLAUDE BOUCHARD
Backstage
DECISIONS, DECISIONS
It was an exciting night at Revolution for one, Josh Kaine. At Redemption, he’d earned the right to challenge for the Sin City Championship, and tonight was the night for him to make that happen. At SHOOT Project’s Year End Awards, he was identified as one of the top up and comers in the SHOOT Project, nearly beating out Vito Valentino for the coveted Newcomer of the Year award.
Tonight though, he’s got to put all of that outside of his mind and focus on the task at hand. Mike de los Huesos. Kaine’s in the back now, eyes closed, trying to keep his mind clear. Unfortunately, with eyes closed, you leave yourself susceptible to surprises. This was one of those moments, and a good reminder that meditation was wholly futile for him.
“You’ve got an important opportunity in front of you tonight.”
The crowd starts booking immediately as the voice startles Kaine, who quickly opens his eyes and sees a few people in front of him and on either side.
Cromwell Yarbury.
Muratagi Hanzo.
Joshua Breedlove.
The Empire.
Joshua Breedlove: Oh, I know, I know. Not what you were hoping to see right before you go into the biggest shot in your career. I get it.
Kaine looks at Breedlove, then to Hanzo and Yarbury.
Joshua Breedlove: Don’t worry about them. They’re here for your protection. I want to talk to you about Laura Seton, and if this conversation goes smoothly and we don’t get off on any weird tangents, we’ll let you get back to your prep.
Josh knows he’s outnumbered and without backup. In a situation like this, it’s best to just talk…and prepare himself for the possibility of a beatdown. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, he was certain.
Josh Kaine: Ain’t the type to sneak attack someone for no reason, so long as you don’t do nothin’ stupid, I won’t neither.
Breedlove smiles, clasping his hands together.
Joshua Breedlove: Excellent. Let me just also say that I’ve been where you are; at the beginning of my career, starting to get some momentum, working with someone who knows how to navigate the business, and all of the fun that comes along with that. I also understand loyalty. I know what it means to you when someone says they have your back and they’ll take your side.
He doesn’t move much, some slight shifts in his posture. He keeps eye contact with Josh Kaine.
Joshua Breedlove: I also know that sometimes you have to make decision, especially in this business, that have lasting effects on what your career ends up looking like 5,10 years down the road. You have arrived at one of those inflection points.
He slightly raises an eyebrow.
Joshua Breedlove: So, when I ask you if you’re sure that you want to be by Laura Seton’s side when she gets everything that’s coming to her… I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, but I’m going to give you this get out of jail free card and ask anyway. Knowing what you know about me, about this business… you are an up and coming star here in the SHOOT Project. You’ve got momentum. You’ve got fans talking. I’ve gotta wonder… is Laura Seton the right fit for Josh Kaine?
He lets that hang for a moment.
Joshua Breedlove: Or would it make more sense for Josh Kaine to mind his own business and focus on the dance itself?
Josh Kaine is quiet for a few moments, looking the assembled throng up and down. Assessing, planning, and coming to that decision, certainly.
Josh Kaine: See, I said I wouldn’t do nothin’ stupid so long as you don’t, but it is pretty stupid to come and ask me a thing like that when you already know what my answer will be.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, ready to spring into action to defend himself if need be. Kaines don’t run from fights and he’s hoping that Breedlove has a lick of sense to just leave him the hell alone.
Josh Kaine: Ms. Laura’s best friends with my Ma, she asked me for help and I’m willin’ to help her because she’s a good person. You came out at Redemption and blindsided her because you’re on some crusade to destroy her and take her belt, ain’t ya? I don’t like bullies, Mr. Breedlove; and I ain’t the type to just stand by and let bad shit happen to good folks if I can help it. If the decision to stand by Ms. Laura ends up costin’ me everything, so be it. Least I’ll be able to say I went down swingin’ and stickin’ to my guns on what is right.
Breedlove sighs while shrugging somewhat expectantly, and holds his hand low and to his side, signaling to the other two men on his flank. Hanzo and Yarbury take a couple of steps back, giving Kaine some additional space. Breedlove stays put and clasps his hands back together, absentmindedly wringing them in front of him.
Joshua Breedlove: As expected. I just… well, hoped that you’d take some additional time to evaluate the situation. All that said, I can’t say that I wouldn’t do the same thing if I were in your particular situation. I get it. But, you know, I hope you’re ready for the ramifications that such decisions offer.
He pauses, looking Josh Kaine over once more.
Joshua Breedlove: But that’s for the future, right? As promised, we walk away and leave you unscathed. Just… keep one thing in mind. You’re right. There are definitely bullies out here in this world, this business. You’ll run into them constantly; they are simple creatures. Easy to figure out. Unfortunately… I’m not one of them. This whole thing that you’ve walked into? It’s detailed. It’s technical. It’s, dare I say, clinical, and me?
The trio begins to walk away, with Breedlove maintaining that eye contact.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m the surgeon.
He turns, leaving Josh Kaine to ponder that. The son of Sinn just rolls his eyes, mockingly mouthing, “I’m the surgeon.” as the scene shifts back to the announcer’s desk.
SINGLES MATCH
SIN CITY CHAMPIONSHIP
JOSH KAINE
VS.
MIKE DE LOS HUESOS (c)
Backstage
A SEAT OF POWER
The camera follows SHOOT Project’s newest star, Aiden Vanity, as he walks through the backstage area of the arena for the first time. He’s wearing a flashy rhinestone suit, sunglasses that reflect the bright lights as he walks with the biggest grin on his face. He looks at his surroundings and sneers.
Aiden Vanity: Is this a storage unit with a roof? The legendary SHOOT arena? They really undersold the legendary part.
He approaches the locker rooms, brushing imaginary dust off his expensive suit sleeve. Aiden stops at the door marked with his name and pushes it open. As he enters he gasps at what he saw.
Aiden Vanity: You have got to be kidding me. This is where they expect me to prepare for all these matches? I wouldn’t let my dry cleaning touch this, this cesspool hangout.
The camera moves around the locker room, showing a plain bench, a gray metal locker, and a crooked mirror on the wall. Aiden looks ready to pass out. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and snaps a photo.
Aiden Vanity: I have to show my Hollywood friends what kind of conditions a star like me is subjected to. The Caption will read: From the penthouse to the doghouse. Unbelievable!
Soon after, a group of assistants hurries into the room with furniture and decorations: a golden throne, royal blue silk curtains, a tall vanity mirror with LED lights, and a soft carpet. Aiden watches, snapping his fingers to give orders.
Aiden Vanity: Be careful with the throne! It’s genuine Italian craftsmanship, not cheap secondhand junk and fix those curtain creases.
One assistant struggles to move the heavy locker out of the room. Rather than offering to help, he simply rolls his eyes and sprays cologne on himself.
Aiden Vanity: For the love of me, just leave it in the hallway! Let the less fortunate use it as a coat rack or something.
After a few minutes, the room transforms into a backstage runway setup. Aiden sits on his throne, crosses one leg over the other, and checks himself in the mirror, adjusting his hair in the process, then he makes eye contact with the camera.
Aiden Vanity: Now is fitting for a man of my caliber. The other roster members can keep their plastic chairs and shared showers. Aiden Vanity demands elegance, and elegance always answers when I call.
He leans closer to the mirror, tilting his head to admire his jawline.
Aiden Vanity: Take a good look, everyone. This face is the future of your company and trust me, the future looks fabulous.
Aiden waves the crew away and leans back on his throne as the camera fades out.
TAG TEAM MATCH
TAG TEAM MATCH
GIGATON
FISSION
VS.
SCOTT HUNTER
BRICK SUNSET
Backstage
SAINTS AND SHILLELAGHS
Fresh off their win over the French Connection, we cut backstage to a hyped up Stevie Saint approaching his stoic brother who stands in front of a laundry cart.
Stevie Saint: Hey DJ.
DJ Saint: Hey Stevie.
Stevie Saint: So after tonight and now that we’ve defeated the Coltons once and for all? You know what makes us???
DJ Saint: #1 contenders?
Stevie Saint: Yeah, but else?
DJ Saint: Beautiful and humble?
Stevie Saint: Obviously. But!
DJ Saint: But what?
Stevie Saint: It makes us the top goody-goodies in SHOOT on a collision course with the Devil’s own Advocates. Well, those ‘advocates’ who think the devil’s so top? Us Saints are gonna take them to Church and watch them burn!
DJ Saint: On the dancefloor, he means. After we beat them for the tag titles.
Stevie Saint: We are the Neon Saints, your future World Tag Team champions! And if you think you can stop us?
Both: YOU’RE WRONG!
Voice: Eh, I was expecting an even newer tag team to come along and ruin my day, but you two will do.
The camera turns to the voice as Michael Collins quickly walks up on Stevie and DJ Saint, drilling DJ Saint in the stomach with the end of a shillelagh! Michael pushes Stevie out of the way before he jumps on DJ, and lays some hands on him! He starts talking smack between punches.
Michael Collins: There…will be…no gold…for you!
Stevie has time to collect himself, and he shoves Michael off! Now Stevie has Michael in a compromising position. Michael crawls backwards on his butt, putting his hand up to stop Stevie from attacking. DJ Saint manages to find his way to his feet, still holding his jaw. The two men stand over Michael Collins.
CRACK!!
The Neon Saints go FLYING after being attacked from behind by someone off camera!! The Neon Saints end up draped over the laundry cart they stood next to!
Amidst the confusion, the camera pans over to the left, revealing Rowland Collins, standing there with a shillelagh of his own, glaring at The Neon Saints. He walks over to his brother and huffs. Then reaches out his hand and helps his brother up. Rowland pats his brother on the back. He then reaches into his back pocket… and pulls out the black envelope.
Rowland Collins: Let’s go find Breedlove.
The twins walk off camera. The Neon Saints groan as security rushes over to them, attempting to pull them out of the laundry cart.
Backstage
JOHNNY PATRIOT HYPE!
The camera fades up in the backstage area. The fans cheer as they see Ryan Samuels preparing for his match with Vito Valentino for the Premier Championship in the hallway. Samuels rubs the tape on his wrists and looks off camera toward the on-coming Johnny Patriot. Another loud pop as Patriot stands next to his enemy-turned-friend. Patriot puts his hand on Samuels’ shoulder and pats him on the chest with the other.
Johnny Patriot: You’ve got this, Samuels. Long gone are your tormentors from the Great White North. You dispatched them without so much as breaking a sweat, and now look at you. Staring down greatness and all that stands in your way…
Patriot pauses for a moment to think.
Johnny Patriot: …is one of the toughest guys on the roster, alright, there’s no getting around that. Sure, you’re equal in height and weight, but he’s more muscular and lean. Sure, he’s been a champion in this place and is coming in as the defending Premier Champion. But do you know what you have that he doesn’t?
Ryan looks bewildered at Johnny Patriot. Patriot shakes his head, shrugging.
Johnny Patriot: I don’t know, either.
Patriot and Samuels both look at each other, then around the area. After a few moments, Johnny Patriot snaps his fingers.
Johnny Patriot: Listen, Ryan, I’ve got it.
Patriot wraps his arm around Ryan Samuels’ shoulder, and gestures to the great thought bubble in the sky.
Johnny Patriot: Think about where you were when you first came into this wondrous company we call home. Think about that feud you had with a literal newborn, my nephew. Now look at you. You’re thriving. You’ve got…GUMPTION. But more than that…
Patriot pauses. Austin Anderson can be seen walking down the hallway toward the two men, listening intently.
Johnny Patriot: You’ve got me. WE put too much effort into YOU to see you go down without a fight, my hairy friend. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you over the course of the last year, it’s that you know how to fight. You know how to battle when the odds are against you. You, Ryan Samuels, know how
to!
win!
Patriot looks around the hallway before turning back toward Samuels. Austin Anderson’s pace slows.
Johnny Patriot: In 1773, when all hope was lost, you know what the Boston Revolutionists did? They overpowered the British, dumped all the tea in the harbor, and threw a Boston Tea Party. Tonight, Midwest Nightmare, after you win the Premier Championship…we’re throwing our own Party.
Johnny Patriot’s hands go across the thought bubble as he names the party:
Johnny Patriot: The Midwest/Las Vegas Dirty Boot Scootin Boogie Roundup Hootenanny.
Patriot looks at Samuels.
Ryan Samuels: Seems kinda long, JP.
Johnny Patriot: We’ll workshop it. But right now, you’ve got a fight on your hands. Go make us proud!
Patriot pats Samuels on the back and sends him on his way to the ring. Patriot looks over his shoulder, noticing Austin Anderson.
Johnny Patriot: Kids these days. Makes you so proud to see them succeed.
RING ENTRANCE
VITO VALENTINO
“Some Kind of Monster” hits the speakers and the Epicenter Faithful go crazy for Metalica’s raw and aggressive cult favorite.
They go even crazier when they see the man’s name who is now attached to the song.
THE PREMIER POWERHOUSE
The SHOOT Project Premier Champion steps out from the curtains to a monstrous pop. Wearing the championship proudly around his waist, Vito raises a lone fist. After an explosion of fireworks, pink embers cascade down behind him in a waterfall befitting the SmashShow. A smile on his face indicates a man that is happy, and that happiness is a direct result from all the hard work he put into his SHOOT career for the past seven months of his career.
Eryk Masters: Meat.
Jason Johnson: Meat?
Eryk Masters: MEAT!
Jason Johnson: MEAT!
Eryk & Jason: MEEEEEEEEAAAAAAT!!!
Once the cascade of pink pyro comes to an end, Vito makes his way down to the ring. Samantha Coil is ready with a microphone, announcing the defending champion for the match.
Samantha Coil: The following contest is scheduled for one-fall, and it is for the SHOOT Project PREMIER CHAMPIONSHIP!!
The audience pops, as this is one that’s been highly anticipated for a multitude of reasons.
Samantha Coil: Making his way down to the ring, from Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at
265lbs, he is the SHOOT Project Premier Champion… the SMAAAAASHSHOOOOOOOOW… VITOOOOOOOO… VALENTINOOOOOOOO!
Eryk Masters: It’s all come full circle, hasn’t it? Vto’s first opponent in SHOOT, way back during the Master of the Mat tournament last year, was Ryan Samuels. And now? His first title defense is against that very same man.
Jason Johnson: Ah, that’s right! Well, we’ll see if this one has the same results. Ryan Samuels is a different breed of animal since then and I can’t imagine he’s going to just rollover in a rematch. This one is going to be a big ole hoss fight!
Making his way to the ring, Vito rolls in underneath the bottom rope and pumps a fist up to the crowd.
Looking at Samantha Coil, Vito motions for permission to have the microphone. Graciously accepting it, Vito looks around at the crowd while “Some Kind of Monster” fades. Looking around the Epicenter, Vito nods his head, appreciative to all his fans. “Vi-to!” chants break out as he stands in the middle of the ring, soaking in all the adulation.
Vito Valentino: Thanks for that. (pausing for a moment) You know, ever since I set foot inside a SHOOT Project ring, I’ve wanted to be a difference maker. Call me old fashioned, call me whatever you want, but whether it was being a Soldier, a Newcomer, or, Gods willing, a champion, I wanted to be someone who came into this organization with my head held high and could bring a brand of competitiveness and contact sport credibility unlike ever seen before.
The fans clap at the admirable goals of their Premier Champion.
Vito Valentino: And as I stand before you? Here and now?
Vito unsnaps the title from around his wrist. Looking into the faceplate, Vito smiles and nods.
Vito Valentino: I can honestly say that I have achieved that. Whether Mr. Midwest Nitemare comes down that ramp and ends my title run as soon as it begins, or I defeat him and go on to win the first of what I hope is many, many more title defenses to come, it doesn’t really matter.
I am proud to be the Premier Champion of SHOOT. I am PROUD to be the PREMIER Powerhouse of SHOOT. And I am proud to be YOUR (pointing out at the audience) resident SmashShow of SHOOT!
“VI-TO!”
“VI-TO!”
“VI-TO!”
Vito Valentino: 2025? Welcome to the era… professional wrestling. Welcome to the era… of Vito Valentino!
Handing the microphone back to Samantha Coil, “Some Kind of Monster” begins playing again, filling the air with his Metallica theme before Ryan Samuels readies himself to come down to the ring.
SINGLES MATCH
PREMIER CHAMPIONSHIP
RYAN SAMUELS
VS.
VITO VALENTINO (c)
IN THE RING
WAIT
The lights dim in the arena, and the haunting melody of “Lux Aeterna” by Clint Mansell begins to echo through the Epicenter. The crowd rises to their feet, the anticipation palpable. A single spotlight illuminates the stage as The Absolute Austin Anderson steps out, his sharp black suit a stark contrast to the raw intensity in his eyes. His slow, deliberate walk down the ramp commands attention, each step a reminder of the journey that has brought him here. The Redemption Rumble winner climbs into the ring, his posture upright, his presence undeniable. As the music fades, Anderson retrieves a microphone, letting the weight of the moment linger before speaking.
Austin Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, the road to redemption is rarely a straight path. It twists, it turns, it challenges you to your very core. And yet, here I stand, your Redemption Rumble winner, having endured it all. Bloodied, bruised, but unbroken. And now, with that victory behind me, I set my sights on the only thing that remains: the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship.
The crowd erupts, but Anderson remains composed, his piercing gaze scanning the audience.
Austin Anderson: To hold that championship is to carry the weight of this company, to be its face, its standard-bearer. And no one, no one, has embodied that standard more than Laura Seton.
The crowd cheers loudly at the mention of Seton’s name, a testament to her impact on the SHOOT Project. Anderson nods, acknowledging the sentiment.
Austin Anderson: Laura, you are a multi-time champion. A fighter who has bled for this company, who has given her heart and soul to this industry. The fans have watched you grow, watched you evolve from a promising talent into arguably the greatest competitor this company has ever seen. Your technical brilliance, your unrelenting drive, your ability to adapt and thrive in any situation, these are the traits of a true champion.
Anderson begins to pace the ring, his voice gaining strength, his words cutting through the air like a knife.
Austin Anderson: But, Laura, as much as I respect everything you’ve done, there’s one thing you need to understand: your time has come to an end. You have carried this company with grace, with dignity, and with excellence. But now, the weight you’ve borne for so long will be lifted from your shoulders, because I am here to take it. I am here to become the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion.
The crowd reacts with a mix of cheers and murmurs, sensing the gravity of his words.
Austin Anderson: You see, Laura, the story of your reign, of your dominance, has been one of triumph. But every story, no matter how grand, must eventually meet its conclusion. And I, ‘The Absolute,’ am the final chapter of your tale.
He stops pacing, turning his full attention to the camera, his eyes sharp and unyielding.
Austin Anderson: You are one of the faces of this company, Laura. One of its shining stars. But stars….
MAKE WAY FOR THE KING
Eryk Masters: Here we go!
Jason Johnson: Breedlove’s been BUSY these last several weeks. We’ve heard about the meeting at the Sanctum, his return to Spitter, that crazy party he threw when he won Soldier of the Year…
Eryk Masters: This’ll mark the first interaction between Austin Anderson and Joshua Breedlove as well, won’t it?
Jason Johnson: Yep! Real curious to see how this shakes out.
Ohana Bam’s “Make Way for the King” screams out across the arena, queuing the imminent arrival of SHOOT Project’s Soldier of the Year, and currently most reviled person on the roster, and the fans are absolutely letting him know how they feel about him. He emerges at the top of the ramp, dressed in black slacks, a black button down, and a black tie. Looking the part. He also has a microphone in hand.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m going to have to keep this real brief, because Austin Anderson has used up nearly all of this promo time with his word salad and his direct neural link to thesaurus.com…
The fans boo and the camera catches one fan rolling his eyes.
Joshua Breedlove: What? It’s true, there were a lot of words used there and not a lot said. I bet he was fucking GREAT at MLA format. REGARDLESS. It’s time for the Breedlove take on all of what you just said, and thank god I had a bullshitese translator on hand, because god damn.
He laughs.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m not gonna throw a lot of hate your way, not yet at least. I respect the hustle and know what it takes to win the Redemption Rumble, because I did it in 2023. I’d also point out that you won the Rumble in a year where there was no Breedlove, so I feel pretty confident that there’s going to be an asterisk next to your name any day now. Still, you won, and you’ve earned your shot at the champ. Those things are irrefutable.
He begins to walk, stopping about halfway down the ramp.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m real curious to see how this all shakes out between the two of you, because right now, it’s pretty unclear. I was thinking maybe I’d come out here, challenge you to a match, and if I win…
He pauses, the crowd boos, and he laughs.
Joshua Breedlove: It’s so easy. If I win, I’m not taking your spot at Reckoning Day. I know, crazy. If I win, I trade my black dress shirt and tie for some referee stripes and the 2024 Soldier of the Year is YOUR referee for the main event at Reckoning Day. That’s it, that’s the challenge. So, look. You think about that. Consult your tea leaves. Whatever you gotta do. I expect your response to be submitted double spaced and size 12 font, Encyclopedia Britannica.
He drops the mic and mouths Breedlove out.
Austin Anderson: Wait.
Austin Anderson stands in the ring, the microphone still in his hand, his face a study in restrained amusement. The camera captures a fleeting smirk before Anderson raises the microphone to respond.
Austin Anderson: Mr. Breedlove, I have to admit, your timing is impeccable. As always, you’ve managed to make yourself part of a moment that wasn’t yours to begin with. And while I appreciate the theatrics, let’s not pretend you’re here out of genuine curiosity or respect. No, you’re here because you can’t stand the thought of the SHOOT Project existing without your name in every conversation, in every match, in every headline.
He paces the ring, the spotlight still trained on him as the crowd reacts with a mix of cheers and boos, fully engaged in the unfolding drama.
Austin Anderson: And yet, despite your antics, I can’t deny what you’ve accomplished. You’ve been at the top of this company for years, always in the main event, always a contender, always finding a way to keep yourself relevant. That takes a certain level of cunning, a certain mastery of the game. You’ve crafted yourself into a perennial force in SHOOT Project, and for that, I acknowledge you.
Anderson stops and leans against the ropes, locking eyes with Josh Breedlove, who has turned to listen from halfway up the ramp.
Austin Anderson: You’re not just some loudmouth with a knack for getting under everyone’s skin. You’re an incredible wrestler, one of the greatest this company has ever seen. A man who can rightfully claim a place among the legends of SHOOT Project. But let’s make one thing clear: while your accomplishments are undeniable, so too is your knack for self-promotion. That, Breedlove, is your art. You sell yourself as the king of this company, as its centerpiece, as the man who everyone must go through.
Austin Anderson gives Josh Beedlove a small nod of respect before continuing.
Austin Anderson: But here’s the reality. The Redemption Rumble wasn’t about you. It was about me. And while I respect your history, your accolades, your ability to win over, or irritate, the masses, this moment isn’t yours to steal. It’s mine. And I’ll be damned if I let you, or anyone else, shift the focus from what’s about to happen at Reckoning Day.
He steps back to the center of the ring.
Austin Anderson: At Reckoning Day, I will face Laura Seton for the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship. And Laura is everything you claim to be, Breedlove, but without the noise. She’s a champion of champions, the standard-bearer, a woman who has carried this company with grace and undeniable talent. She has fought, she has bled, and she has triumphed. But now, her time at the top is coming to an end. Because while she’s been a brilliant star in the sky of SHOOT Project, I am the storm that will bring her reign crashing down.
Anderson walks over and leans back against one of the turnbuckles, his eyes still locked on Breedlove.
Austin Anderson: I hear your challenge, and I see the game you’re playing. Referee stripes? Soldier of the Year parading as the arbiter of the biggest match to kick off the new year? I’m not naïve to your motives. But let me be absolutely clear: you can wear whatever stripes you like, you can play the part of the impartial observer, but you won’t change the outcome. When the dust settles, when the bell rings, and the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship is raised high above my head, you’ll have no choice but to acknowledge me as ‘The Absolute.’
He leans forward, his voice lowering but carrying even more weight.
Austin Anderson: So, if you want your match, I accept. Bring your best, bring your tricks, bring your schemes. Because whether it’s you, Laura Seton, or anyone else in my path, the result remains the same: Austin Anderson at the pinnacle of this company, where I’ve always belonged.
Anderson lowers the microphone, the crowd erupting in cheers as “Lux Aeterna” begins to play once more. Breedlove smirks, nodding slightly as he backs up the ramp, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created. The scene ends with Anderson standing tall in the ring, his focus unshaken, as the cameras cut to black.
SIX-PERSON TAG TEAM MATCH
MATCH STIPULATIONS
WASP
LOCUST
CICADA
VS.
LOU
JANE DOE
CORMAC NELSON
Backstage
OF BUGS AND BEASTS
We cut to the back to find the members of HEXXXED grouped together just off to the side of the arena rampway.
Ayumi. RAIKO. NEMESIS. Bellecose. Zee. The “coven” of women are locked in tight conversation with Ayumi holding court like a municipal judge.
Ayumi: You’ve got the opportunity to do what I couldn’t, RAIKO. And Laura is going to be distracted, looking over her shoulder thinking that we, or Joshua Breedlove, may come for her at any moment. Use that. Make her unfocused.
RAIKO: Kanojo wa watashi no te de taorerudarõ.
Ayumi closes her eyes and places a hand on RAIKO’s shoulder.
Ayumi: I trust in you. I’m sorry. I just know what she is capable of when focused, and-
The attention of every HEXXXED member immediately turns to the parade of masked figures exiting from the Epicenter arena.
WASP.
LOCUST.
CICADA.
While CICADA doesn’t seem too interested in the HEXXX team, LOCUST stops, and so does WASP. The newest member of their triad, whose mask hides fewer facial features, actively scowls at Ayumi as the pair lock eyes.
Realizing the tension, CICADA moves behind LOCUST and WASP, having their backs, but allowing them to take the lead. Initially nothing is said between the two teams, just unnerving silence as Ayumi’s expression transforms from initial surprise to forced confidence.
Ayumi: Your “siren” has had a lot to say about me. Shame she isn’t here.
WASP scoffs at this.
WASP: Would it please you to assault a woman who isn’t a trained fighter? I suppose you aren’t above it considering who you’ve chosen to associate with in the past.
WASP smiles.
WASP: Though…I suppose all of those associates are gone now, aren’t they? Through…some means or another.
Ayumi takes a step forward, closing the distance between WASP and herself. SWARM all move in closer, as do the members of HEXXED. Ayumi pauses and chooses her words carefully.
Ayumi Seppuku: What happened to Barb was… wrong. And there is no way that I’ll be able to atone for what NC-17 and Lars did in HEXXX’s name. I would say ‘I’m sorry’ but we’re clearly past that point…
The HEXXXED leader nods towards CICADA and LOCUST.
Ayumi Seppuku: One thing, though, that I can’t stand is someone who’s all bark and no bite. You called me out at Redemption… but what are a bunch of gnats like yourselves actually prepared to do about it?
WASP, despite being significantly smaller than Ayumi, does not back down a bit. She looks up into the eyes of the leader of HEXXXED, giving only the briefest of scans to the others.
WASP: You’re a stupid, selfish child, and your day will come. Barb had her revenge.
WASP oozes resentment and anger, but she stays calm. She briefly looks back at LOCUST before returning her attention to Ayumi.
WASP: We will have ours, Seppuku. Our SWARM will feed.
WASP calms, smiling.
WASP: But we’ve already had our fill for the day with the Wild Ones. Besides…
WASP points to RAIKO.
WASP: We’d hate to give your little fox an excuse for failing against Laura.
WASP turns her attention to RAIKO. Maybe it’s a trick of the camera, maybe it’s the lighting, but her eyes suddenly seem bluer.
WASP: Anata no hanchō wa mahō ya jujutsu ni tsuite nani mo shirimasen.
Ayumi and RAIKO clearly react in surprise… if not shock, noticing something strange about the way WASP speaks. Her voice is a little too comfortable in Japanese, though her accent shows no sign of it being her native language. With a mocking curtsy, WASP pushes past Ayumi, LOCUST and CICADA in tow.
As SWARM exits, HEXXXED stands somewhat defensively to watch them clear from eyesight. Oddly enough, it’s Bellecose that speaks up first.
Bellecose: What the bloody ‘ell was that all about?
Ayumi and RAIKO look at each other and then over toward the curtain leading to the arena rampway.
Ayumi: Nothing…
RAIKO reaches up and affixes her mask as Ayumi, NEMESIS, Bellecose, and Zee all stand at her back before pulling open the curtain and stepping out for the night’s main event.
MAIN EVENT
WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP
RAIKO
VS.
LAURA SETON (c)
IN THE RING
NOT DEAD YET
Eryk Masters: A successful defense and while the questions will surely pop again tomorrow, the World Heavyweight Champion shows us her heart was all in here for at least the evening.
Jason Johnson: She’s committed. That’s why I wanted her here in the first place. That’s why she’s Champion. As long as she wants to wrestle.
Eryk Masters: Well, we knew she was going to go tonight, but her future, it’s in her hands. Have yourselves a wonderful rest of your–
Jason Johnson: Just wait on that sign-off. Looks like we aren’t finished yet.
Taking a moment from celebrating her win as she gets the World Heavyweight Championship back, Laura turns towards the announce desk and motions for a mic. As she gets one, she waits to regain her breath before speaking.
Laura Seton: Now, you guys have seen me quite a bit… … and know I don’t normally address things at the end unless it’s important…
Her breathing audible on the mic, she takes a few more seconds as the crowd’s cheering settles.
Laura Seton: But this is a big fucking deal… so Joshua Breedlove– get your fucking ass out here NOW!!
The fire in her eyes shows this isn’t lighthearted.
MAKE WAY FOR THE KING
Ohana Bam’s “Make Way for the King” rings out, signaling one more arrival of 2024’s Soldier of the Year and former World Heavyweight Champion, Joshua Breedlove. The chorus of boos sing out as well, ushering him in with a smile on his face. When Breedlove makes his appearance at the top of the ramp, the boos intensify, as he’s wearing black pants and a limited edition t-shirt; one that shows a still from the brutal attack that he laid down on Laura Seton at Redemption.
Jason Johnson: I gotta respect the asshole nature of that t-shirt. Laura Seton’s bloody face just splayed out on clothing like that.
Eryk Masters: It looks like it’s having the effect he desired, the fans are letting him have it.
Breedlove is all smiles as he stays at the top of the ramp, making sure to stand with the shirt as visible as it can be. He has a microphone.
Joshua Breedlove: We’re going to be auctioning this shirt off at the end of the show, with the proceeds going towards some charity related to the fires in California that I’ll figure out later. It’s important to make sure that our first responders are–
He stops and smiles again.
Joshua Breedlove: Sorry, you asked me out here for something that I’m sure is very important. I yield the floor to you, but still… auction for the shirt after the show.
Laura smirks.
Laura Seton: Certainly a collectible if there ever was one. Maybe if we both sign it, it’ll bring in more–
She sighs. It’s almost like she realizes she’s falling into his trap and going off-track.
Laura Seton: I’m sure you’re proud of that moment right there. The moment that just may have ended Laura Seton’s career. Tonight notwithstanding, that’s the moment that may have done it. That’s what you’d love, right?
He motions to himself like, “Oh, me?” and pulls the microphone to his face.
Joshua Breedlove: Listen, Setes, I’m just here for the monologue. You wanna give your career eulogy with me present, I’m here for that. I’ll even fake cry for you.
He makes an audible, obnoxious sniffle sound. The fire returns to her eyes.
Laura Seton: I hold this…
She raises the SHOOT World Heavyweight Championship, the fans giving a cheer in the process. After a few seconds, she lowers it back to her shoulder.
Laura Seton: I know what you can do. I felt first-hand what you are possible of when firing on all cylinders.
I’ve played with my children. Even if they’re only six, I’ve gotten to play with them.
I’m in my second run as SHOOT World Heavyweight Champion.
I’ve actually become intimate with someone. Maybe you don’t care about that, but I’ve checked the biggest boxes in my life.
I have NOTHING to lose going against the asshole version of you, Breedlove. I’m not going anywhere…
She has a large, toothy grin, lightly shaking her head.
Joshua Breedlove: Couple of things.
His face turns to a grossed out scowl.
Joshua Breedlove: The word “intimate” is gross. Congratulations on getting your bean tickled, I guess? Bleh. Next, though, the important stuff… whether it’s now or later, Laura, the idea that you have nothing to lose from going against me is hilarious. You have EVERYTHING to lose, and the fact that you’re so focused on the wrestling portion of this just proves to me that you haven’t really thought it all through.
He holds for a moment.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m going to beat Austin Anderson next week and be named the special guest referee for your match with him at Reckoning Day, where I will witness your defeat first hand. But after that? After you’ve lost the World Championship again? You think I’m just gonna fuck off and ignore you forever because you no longer have the title? Not a chance. Because understand this, Laura. I’m taking everything.
His eyes narrow, the camera zooms in as the crowd continues to shower the boos and Breedlove eats them up.
Joshua Breedlove: Your career. Your sense of purpose. Your confidence. Your sense of security. All of it. And I’m going to do it without putting a finger on you, unless we’re in that ring. You think this thing between us, is some checkbox? Nah baby, I’m the whole fuckin’ list and I’m going to educate you until I decide you’ve had enough.
He offers another quick pause, letting it all sink in.
Joshua Breedlove: I don’t know how many warnings I have left in me, and I don’t think you’re going to be smart enough to heed them. Or maybe it’s a stubbornness thing, I really don’t know. Don’t much care either. I’ll just leave you with this.
He chuckles.
Joshua Breedlove: I want you to really get used to the feeling that you’re just one step away from complete and total destruction. You might not feel it now, you might not even feel it by Reckoning Day, but eventually…
He offers a sarcastic, wistful sigh.
Joshua Breedlove: You will.
He subtly motions towards the crowd, and suddenly a spotlight shines down in the middle of the arena. Laura’s attention is turned, the nearby crowd shrieks out and the rest of the crowd gasps when they see a lone, free Jeffrey James Roberts sitting by himself amongst the people. He leans forward, placing his chin on his thumbs, covering some of us face. His eyes never leave Laura Seton, and Seton’s eyes stay locked with his.
A tri-screen split happens, showing Breedlove, Seton, and Roberts. Seton has a look of concern, Roberts is relatively expressionless, and Breedlove has a very wide grin on his face.
Fade.
