“Got a few things to say and only a little bit of time to say it.”
The voice speaking has a noticeable southern drawl, way more deep-woods Appalachia than deep South. Josh Kaine sat on the tailgate of his truck, the open desert behind him. The sky above was deep hues of orange and pink, a perfect cotton-candy sunset. He pulled a leg up, resting his elbow as he spoke again.
“Ain’t the type to boast about how much tougher I am than all y’all, but I gotta make a few things clear. I know in the grand scheme of wrestlin’ that sneak attacks and folks bein’ assholes fer no goddamn reason is par for the course, but…”
He inhaled deeply of the dry desert air before continuing.
“Ain’t gonna tolerate it on me or mine no more. Unlike my Ma, I don’t got a problem workin’ with others. That’s why I told Ms. Laura ‘yes’ when she asked for my help watchin’ her back…and why a few others have said yes to me when I asked them for help. Ain’t gonna name names just yet, but more’n a few folks here think they have the greenlight to run roughshod over other just ‘cause they can. It’s one thing to want someone’s title belt, it’s a whole other story entirely when you dedicate yourself to destroyin’ a good person.”
Josh ran a hand through his sable mohawk, taming the errant strands after a particularly strong gust of wind interrupted his train of thought.
“So I’m puttin’ the call out loud and clear…and y’all will have to forgive me I sound like some A*Team tagline, but if you ain’t done nothin’ to cross certain folks and you need some help fendin’ off them wolves? Y’all know where to find me…and if you don’t wanna talk to me, y’all can look out for Ms. Laura or my sister backstage.
And puttin’ out fair warnin’ for those certain folks. All’s fair game between the ropes, but you try to blindside someone or put ‘em out of commission? I’m gonna be standin’ between you and them. Ain’t gonna let this bullshit slide on my watch.”
He stopped, jumping down from the tailgate and pulling his keys from his pocket. Josh headed towards the driver’s side door and opened it before speaking one last time.
“You wanna try me? Step right up.
I’m takin’ on all comers.”
EP.: 219
DATE: 01.27.2025
ARENA: THE EPICENTER
SINGLES MATCH
SIN CITY CHAMPIONSHIP
REMY GARDEN
VS.
MIKE DE LOS HUESOS (c)
PREVIOUSLY RECORDED
SCRAPS
Arthur Pleasant: So, this is nice!
Pleasant sips on a crazy looking slurpee-esque drink. Call it a SHOOTee. Crazy ass straw. The whole nine yards. Sitting across from him, sipping on a plain black coffee, free of his chains and restraints, is Jeffrey James Roberts. He seems almost tranquil. After living in solitude for so many years, the shock of freedom leaves him a guarded man.
JJR: People drink this slop?
Arthur shrugs, taking immense pleasure in the neon blue frozen concoction.
Arthur Pleasant: I mean, I guess? I’ve never been a coffee guy, personally. But yeah, most of these pissants love their coffees and lattes.
Sluuuuuuurp.
The icy drink slogs its way through the winding straw as Jeffrey simply looks at his tag team partner in obvious disgust.
Arthur Pleasant: Something wrong, Jeffrey?
Jeffrey James Roberts: I’m suddenly wishing I were back in my cell.
Arthur Pleasant: You just need to open up a bit more. You should try one of these! So refreshing.
Pleasant snaps his finger as if an idea has come to fruition.
Arthur Pleasant: You know, I might have something for our next little project. Reckoning Day is right around the corner, Jeffrey. Not sure if you’re aware of that, based solely on you having not been here for a full calendar year yet, but it’s SHOOT’s biggest Pay-Per-View. What I’m thinking is this: let’s have my attorney Arliss draw up a contract to face the number one contenders. See if they’ll sign it. And from where I’m sitting? I know they will. They can’t afford to NOT have the two-time SHOOT Project World Tag Team Champions and Masters of the Mat featured on the biggest show of the year.
Arthur pauses for a moment.
Arthur Pleasant: But who should it be against? A rematch with the Brass? What, and risk further embarrassment to two SHOOT Hall of Famers? The Atomic Punks? Fear & Loathing in a senseless rematch? The Coltons for a third time? Pull NC-17 from obscurity and face the HEXXX OG’s? We have collectively conquered every single tag team since we’ve arrived. What’s left are scraps. Fucking SCRAPS! The bottom of the barrel. The leftovers nobody cares to face on Pay-Per-View. But if that means a quick win for the greatest tag team SHOOT Project has ever seen? Then so be it. The ‘Scraps’ will do.
Finishing up with his SHOOTie, Arthur sighs in satisfaction before throwing the plastic cup over his right shoulder, careless about the “no littering” policy put in place for the Epicenter.
Arthur Pleasant: Y’know, one team they might throw at us are the Neon Saints.
Jeffrey James Roberts: [waving a hand] It doesn’t matter who it is. It’s a totally irrelevant matter. Whoever it is, nothing changes on my end.
Noticing his tag team partner’s interest waning more by the second, Pleasant tries to win him back into the moment.
Arthur Pleasant: There’s one thing I can’t help but question about the logic in putting us against the Neon Scraps. Why would SHOOT Project want to put their shiny new toys on such a hot stove? Why would SHOOT Project want to ruin a couple of plastic-based up and comers like DJ and Stevie Saint before they even found their footing here? They’re gonna melt, Jeffrey. Like a couple of little green army men on a heating plate. You and I both know this.
Arthur waves his hand in front of Jeffrey, trying to see if he’s even cognizant to the conversation or his surroundings.
Arthur Pleasant: It’s almost like they don’t care… what happens to their tag team division.
Arthur begins to notice what Jeffrey’s attention has diverted to. He’s looking off to the left just slightly. Arthur turns and sees a small boy who appears to be about five years old running in his direction. The sneer on Jeffrey’s face doesn’t dissuade the boy, who stops a couple feet from the two psychopaths.
Boy: Hello!!
Arthur’s eyes widen in surprise, his instincts making him turn his head quickly back to his partner. Jeffrey is staring at the boy, expressionless, as if a kid just fell into the lion enclosure.
Boy: I like your orange shirt.
Arthur Pleasant: Uh, maybe you should take a hike, kid.
Jeffrey James Roberts: It’s alright. He can stay.
Jeffrey holds his stare on and through the little boy’s forehead.
Boy: You look sad. Are you sad?
Jeffrey frowns slightly, the first sign of emotion in his encounter with the boy so far.
Jeffrey James Roberts: Why would you ask me that?
Boy: My mommy says I’m good at cheering people up when they’re sad. Do you want to hear a joke?
Arthur facepalms before letting his head clunk down on the metal meshing of their table.
Jeffrey’s eyes widen and he cocks his head to the side slightly. Arthur is suddenly unnerved, not sure what to make of this exchange. He is, of all people, the one who puts a stop to whatever is happening here. He reaches out and puts his hand on Jeffrey’s arm, and Jeffrey snaps his attention to Arthur.
Arthur Pleasant: He’s just a kid, Jeff. Maybe we should get going.
Jeffrey looks through Arthur’s face, then turns back to the kid. By now an adult, the boy’s father, is sauntering over.
Man: There you are!
Arthur Pleasant: [under his breath] Oh this just get better and better.
The man takes a look at the two strangers and hurriedly pulls his son back by the shoulders.
Man: Um… sorry to bother you guys…
Jeffrey ignores the man – he just… keeps staring at the kid as he’s pulled away by his father.
Arthur Pleasant: Jesus Christ, man.
Arthur looks back at the commotion behind him. Then back at Jeffrey.
Arthur Pleasant: The fuck is the matter? That kid shit in your cream of wheat or something?
Noticing onlookers watching them and pulling out their cell phones, Arthur becomes unnerved by who they might be calling.
Arthur Pleasant: Time to go.
Arthur stands up from the table and looks at all the people watching them.
Arthur Pleasant: Fuck. Off.
That disperses most of the prying eyes, giving Arthur time to reach down and somewhat forcefully pull Jeffrey to his feet.
Jeffrey looks at Arthur, noticing the worried look on his face.
JJR: You worry too much, Arthur.
Arthur Pleasant: Yeah, well, when it looks like you’re going to eat a kid in broad daylight, I tend to worry a little.
JJR: I assure you, good partner, my appetites lie elsewhere.
Pleasant sighs.
Arthur Pleasant: What a relief. Now, let’s go have a talk with Breedlove and see who he would like to see us defend these straps against.
Jeffrey says nothing, clearly uninterested in the opinions of others.
SINGLES MATCH
SINGLES MATCH
TRISTAN KEITH
VS.
NEMESIS
Backstage
ET TU, VANITY? PT. 1
Et tu, Vanity? Part One:
We cut to the back to find a focused, if not near euphoric Remy “Savage” Garden walking through the back hallways of the Epicenter, near the loading dock.
The young man’s eyes are drawn to the Sin City Championship belt he holds outwardly in his hands. His eyes are so transfixed that he almost misses an angry voice shouting at him from nearby.
Voice: I SAID HEY!
Remy stops, looking up, realizing he’s just about to walk headfirst into a large oil painting being pushed in the opposite direction on a dolly.
The Crescent City Kid does a double take as the face of the man shown in the painting peers around the edges of the frame, looking directly at him.
Aiden Vanity: Oh, God. Another one. I’ve seen your kind around here all day, looking more like a lost puppy than a competitor. What’s that you have in your hands… some sort of toy from the merch booth?
Remy cocks his head, confused as Aiden glances over at the painting, grinning coldly at Remy.
Remy: No, it’s-
Aiden Vanity: Nevermind. Whatever it is, it’s not worth my time and, frankly, you’re already starting to bore me. In fact, I think this painting might be the only thing in this building with more personality than you right now. Don’t worry, though maybe one day you can be as magnificent as this, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.
The haze from his match and now this encounter is short-circuiting Remy’s brain; he knows he’s being insulted, but his endorphins are so high right now he still tries to be polite.
Remy: Excusez-moi, monsieur. I was just a little distracted and – well, my name is Remy. Remy Garden. Pleasure.
Remy extends his hand outward in a gesture of kindness but only gets a scowl back from Aiden Vanity. Aiden takes the gum out of his mouth, and places it on the palm of Remy’s hand, which Remy looks at both confused and horrified.
Aiden: You’re lucky that I didn’t charge you for that gum, but maybe I should’ve. I mean, you didn’t even earn it, but there it is, stuck to your hand like the stain you are.
Remy shakes the gum free from his hand and lets it drop to the floor before pulling out a handkerchief and wiping down his hands. He eyes Aiden Vanity closely before turning away.
Remy: Désolé, again. Good luck with whatever… this… is.
Remy shakes his head dismissively and looks to keep moving down the hallway, all the while sensing Aiden Vanity’s eyes following him as he does.
SINGLES MATCH
SINGLES MATCH
GOLDEN BURKHALTER
VS.
AIDEN VANITY
Backstage
ET TU, VANITY? PT. 2
Aiden Vanity exits up the rampway, through the backstage curtains, but doesn’t get far before he sees a familiar face approaching him.
Remy Garden walks slowly towards an exhausted Aiden, hands held up in a defensive posture. An auburn-haired beauty, Remy is dressed down from his usual flashy and flower-rich attire… here he is wearing a simple button down t-shirt and jeans; admittedly with a very large, pink feather jacket on his arm.
Aiden: Ugh. You again. Look at you, lurking around like some obsessive little fanboy. I don’t know if I should call security or maybe I’ll let you keep embarrassing yourself.
Remy: Hey… um. What? Look… it’s Aiden, isn’t it? I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot earlier. You had a good match out there; really exciting to watch. Very… passionnant.
Aiden looks Remy up and down, scoffing.
Aiden: You’re damned right it was exciting and whatever else you said, because it was me! You, on the other hand, look like you can barely tie your shoes together without falling over. You really think you can waltz in here with that ridiculous jacket as some sort of gift and expect us to be friends? Look at you, trying to play the humble card, but let’s be honest, I’m the star around here and you’re a nobody – even if you think that cheap plastic toy around your waist says you are.
Remy pauses and sighs, shaking his head
Remy: Plastic… toy, huh?
The “Savage” one turns his back to Aiden and waves his hand dismissively.
Remy: Nevermind. C’était une mauvaise idée.
Aiden also turns as if he’s about to walk away; however, he stops mid way and looks back at Remy.
Aiden: Hey… hold on a minute. Come here.
Remy turns around, his expression lights up somewhat, as he steps forward towards Aiden Vanity.
Aiden: Since you’ve already got one jacket there you can hold mine as well. Quick, follow me back to my locker room. Don’t make me repeat myself.
He tosses the designer jacket to Remy, who catches it over the crook of his arm. He stands there, confused, only to have Aiden turn back and snap his fingers.
Aiden: Hey! I said don’t make me repeat myself! Maybe I’ll even give you another piece of gum as a reward. Fresh this time.
Remy watches in disbelief as Aiden keeps walking towards the locker room area. As he holds up Aiden’s jacket and looks it over, Remy quickly recoils and holds his nose.
Remy: Dégoûtant! Patchouli? Really?
Backstage
SELLING TICKETS
Vito Valentino enjoyed having the cycle off, but if there’s one thing about Vito Valentino that cannot be denied, it’s his desire for competition. So after fending off Ryan Samuels for the second time in his career, and in the first defense of his PREMIER Championship run, Vito felt a craving for more.
Ther was always more when it came to people like him.
So many talented names on the roster he’d like to test his mettle against.
Laura Seton was at the top of the list. Not just because she is the reigning and defending SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion. In a one-on-one setting, he needed to know if he could beat the best wrestler in all of SHOOT. Eliminating her in the Iron Classic was one thing, but beating her with no other distractions was another thing entirely.
Austin Anderson is another competitor he wanted to lock horns with again. Seeing the man he beat, and dropped on his neck more times than the Commanders dropped the ball in the NFC Championship game, win the Redemption Rumble sent a shiver of envy up his spine. Did he wake something up inside of The Absolute? Time would only tell. Because that certainly could’ve been him standing tall at the end.
Then suddenly it occurs to him; there’s only one man who has been able to defeat him in a one on one setting since entering the SHOOT Project.
Burkhalter.
Joey ‘Golden’ Burkhalter.
‘The New Aeon’, Joey ‘Golden’ Burkhalter.
He could add six more nicknames and monikers to his wrestling profile, but it’s all the same: Joey Burkhalter beat him clean, middle of the ring, and he was the only one to do it so far in a one on one setting.
Vito Valentino: Yyyeah. I think I need this.
With the Premier Championship sling over his shoulder, The SmashShow makes his way to Dan Stein’s office. Knocking on the Chief Operating Officer’s door, a muffled “Come in!” Can be heard coming from the other side.
As Vito opens the door, he peers into the room, checking to see if Stein is busy with someone else. Luckily for Vito, Dan sits unopposed in front of his desk, seemingly distracted from his computer.
Dan Stein: Ahh, Vito! Come on in, Champ. Take a seat. What can I do for you?
Dan gestures at the seats in front of his desk. Nodding, Vito pops a squat in the chair. He tosses the Premier Championship up onto the table. With one finger, he taps on the beautiful faceplate.
Vito Valentino: This? This means the world to me. It’s one of the most sought after championships in SHOOT Project, and the fact that I was able to capture it in my first year here is not lost on me. With that in mind? I also know that Reckonin’ Day is right around the corner. From what I can tell, and from what I’ve been able to research, it’s the biggest show of the year.
He pauses and takes a long breath. Patting the title gently, he continues.
Vito Valentino: I’m sure you have a contendership match set up for next week or somethin’, right?
Dan nods, interlacing his fingers on his desk with a smirk. His trademark smirk. Dan points at the Premier Championship.
Dan Stein: I’ve been honest with you since I picked you up that day at the airport, my dude. I see big things in you and there’s no way THAT beautiful thing wouldn’t be defended at Reckoning Day, I promise you that. So, yeah, I’ve got an idea up my sleeves to get you a worthy opponent. I’ve been kicking around a few names in my he–
Vito Valentino: Burkhalter.
There’s a stunned silence just ruminating in the air. Vito, realizing he may have overstepped, chuckles.
Vito Valentino: I’m sorry, bro. I don’t mean to overstep or interrupt but, I want Burkhalter. Like, really want him in that ring. I want the Golden Boy, Dan. The only person who has been able to defeat me inside a SHOOT Project wrestling ring.
The Premier Champion notices something on Dan’s face change. Almost like he was… wounded? Dan places his hand on his cane as a remembrance to himself. Dan can read the hint of confusion on Vito’s face.
Dan Stein: It’s fine… It’s just that “Golden Boy” is what they used to call me. Years ago, of course. Back when ol’ Dan Stein could still wrestle.
Dan removes his hand from his cane. He smirked that damned smirk and slapped the desk.
Dan Stein: If you want Joey Burkhalter, you’ve got Joey Burkhalter, Vito. I’m giddy at the thought of it. “SMASHSHOW VERSUS GOLDEN AEON”.
Dan gestures grandly.
Dan Stein: I can see it up on the billboards now. That will sell tickets, Vito. That’ll sell a lot of tickets.
Vito laughs heartily.
Vito Valentino: Hey man, if you think it’ll help sell tickets? Beautiful! All the more reason to have it.
He pauses for a moment and stands up, grabbing his Premier Title.
Vito Valentino: Well, I don’t want to keep you from your COO duties, man. I just can’t thank you enough for lettin’ me make this call for the match. I’ve been salivatin’ at the thought of gettin’ some measure of revenge against that kid after he dumped me on my head with that gut wrench whatever the fuck of his.
Dan gingerly stands up, using the edge of the desk for support.
Dan Stein: I know what it’s like to have something eating at you that you just can’t get rid of, Man, and I’m happy to help you get rid of yours. Like I said, big things. Just one question, Vito.
Vito Valentino: Yeah? What’s that?
Dan clears his throat, looking down at the cane. He looks back up into Vito’s eyes.
Dan Stein: What happens if Vito Valentino goes down 0-2 against Joey Burkhalter?
Vito cocks his head. It was as if the thought of actually losing the match never even occurred to him. But it was possible. More than possible.
Vito Valentino: Well, I’ll be honest Dan. I’m… not sure.
He slings the title back over his massive shoulder, covering part of the gray “Critical! Energy’ t-shirt he’s wearing.
Vito Valentino: I CAN tell you this, though: it’ll piss me right the fuck off. But rest assured, that’s a good thing. For you. For Real Deal. For SHOOT Project as a whole.
He makes his way to the door from which he entered.
Vito Valentino: Sellin’ more tickets? Somethin’ tells me everyone’s gonna wanna pay to see me break that boy in two.
Turning around, he nodded at Dan. Patting his Premier Championship once more, he smiles.
Vito Valentino: Thanks again, Dan.
Dan Stein: Anytime, Vito.
Leaving the office of the SHOOT Project COO, Vito stands tall and proud.
Reckoning Day couldn’t come fast enough.
PRE-MATCH INTRO
Suddenly, “Burning Heart” by Survivor blares over the arena speakers and an image appears on the screen…
Scott Hunter steps through the curtain, one arm raised and a microphone in his other hand, dangling to the other side. He makes it about five steps out onto the stage when Brick “Sunset” Sunset comes gliding through the curtain and practically glides to a stop next to him, already in full bicep flex pose.
Scott and Brick soak in the cheers from the crowd for a few moments, but then Scott makes a gesture to cut their music.
Eryk Masters: Oh, looks like Scott has some things to say.
Jason Johnson: This should be fun…
Scott begins to raise the microphone, but realizes suddenly there is a semi-loud “Vill-age Peo-ple” chant going around the arena. This genuinely surprises Scott, and he gestures to Brick, who is still flexing for some reason.
With a big goofy grin on his face, Scott holds up his free hand to shoosh the fans so he can speak.
Scott Hunter: Thank you Epicenter human folk. It is quite the pleasure to be out here on such a solemn occasion. I wish…
Scott gestures to Brick that he can stop posing now. Brick reluctantly relaxes alliteratively, though every few seconds he sneaks in another small flex.
Scott Hunter: I wish this were a happier occasion, but on the bright side, we, the Village People are now undefeated in 2025, which is a record that has never been matched in the history of professional wrestling. If anyone tells you it has been matched, please keep in mind that they are dirty rotten whores who lie and when whores lie they should not believed because they are WHORES! That is illegal in all fifty states so stop lying, you whores!
Scott points out at nothing for emphasis.
Scott Hunter: Anyway… tonight we will be testing our undefeated in 2025 record by taking on Curtis Rose and Alexander Vaka. I have done thorough research on them and it turns out that “Vaka” is Polynesian for “Curly Pubes on My Head.” And apparently, Curtis rose, according to him. Well I have news for you, pal! Only Jesus rose, you understand me! I don’t appreciate your blasphemy! Curtis is not risen, only the LORD is risen! And this isn’t even Easter! Maybe if you knew how to read a calendar, which is a thing that tells you about days, holidays and other made up things like seasons, you would stop trying to cosplay the LORD! SO STOP IT!
Another point for emphasis.
Scott Hunter: Brick and I don’t accept your heretical ways. Curtis has NOT risen, and Alexander Curly Pubes On My Head is disgusting, unkempt by his very nature and due for some mangrooming. Who do you think you are bringing curly head pubes to a wrestling ring anyway?? Do you realize how unsanitary that is?? Of course you do! You have no manners and you smell. Well listen here, tonight Brick and I will be applying a little South Florida justice to both of you, and I know that sounds like we are maybe inviting you on a nice airboat ride to see some gators, but that’s not what it means at all! It means punches, kicks, assorted face damage, occasional joint discomfort and fingernail sensitivity, all followed by my patented completely invented by me figure four leglock. You will scream in pain, you will cry, your knees will hurt, also your jaw, your nose and at least one of your elbows! You never know which one! All of that means that we will win, and you will lose, and so please do your very best to shut the eff up and go straight to hell!! Hit the big pose, Brick!!
With that, Scott tosses the microphone to the side, “Burning Heart” starts back up, and Scott leads the way to the ring, while Brick poses his way down to the ring behind him.
TAG TEAM MATCH
TAG TEAM MATCH
CURTIS ROSE
ALEXANDER VAKA
VS.
BRICK SUNSET
SCOTT HUNTER
Backstage
ET TU, VANITY? PT. 3
Off in the distance we hear a horrified scream as the camera operator is hauling ass to reach the source.
As we close the distance, we see a good chunk of the SHOOT Project roster standing around a sheet-white Aiden Vanity, who is standing over his portrait that was being delivered from earlier, his hands shaking as he points toward the painting.
Aiden Vanity: WHO!? WHICH ONE OF YOU DID THIS!?
Voice: Did what? What’s going on?
A confused Remy Garden approaches the scene from the other side of the hallway, still holding Aiden Vanity’s jacket, and stops as soon he sees the jacket’s owner on his knees caressing his portrait like he was trying to soothe an injured child.
Remy looks from Aiden to the painting, cocking his head slightly, trying to determine what the fuss is about.
Aiden Vanity: Don’t you dare stand there pretending like you don’t know what happened. I know you had a hand in this, you pathetic excuse of a wrestler. First you steal my priceless jacket and now you’ve ruined my portrait!
Remy drops Aiden’s jacket to the floor with a soft thud, causing Aiden to gasp in horror as Remy steps over the now soiled garment, finally having enough of Aiden’s vitriol and points at the painting, his voice raised, curt, and increasingly creole.
Remy: What the hell are you talking about you… imbécile égocentrique! There’s nothing wrong with the damné painting! Unless you count the connard who happens to be its subject.
Aiden stands up, his eyes wide as he approaches Remy. The rest of the crowd begins to back away, but the Savage one stands his ground.
Aiden Vanity: Yes there is something wrong! Look! Someone got dust on it and didn’t clean it off! That’s vandalism! And you take that back, I am NOT a coward.
Remy spits down at Aiden Vanity’s shoes, causing the fighter to recoil. As he does, Remy extends his foot backwards, placing the toe of his boot on top of Aiden’s jacket and then kicks it upward, flinging it towards Aiden’s face.
Remy: Aa te faire foutre! And your jacket. And your gum.
As Remy turns to leave Aiden is seething, absolutely furious, as he throws his jacket on violently and then turns back to grab the edges of his portrait, lifting the massive painting up and over his head with some kind of superhuman strength. He runs, or more appropriately, is carried by forward momentum, towards Remy.
Aiden Vanity: Jealousy is an ugly quality to have!
The outburst from Aiden gives Remy just enough time to side step out of the way, using his dancer’s grace, leaving Aiden Vanity stumbling forward, unable to maintain hold of his painting as he falls forward, bursting through the canvas as he and the painting collapse onto the Epicenter hallway floor.
Remy can’t help but gawk as the remainder of the SHOOT roster burst out into laughter as Aiden Vanity sits himself up, his face perfectly positioned like a fun house cutout through the hole where his self portrait’s face used to be.
It doesn’t take long for the crowd to quickly disperse, leaving Remy and Aiden alone – Remy still standing over a battered Aiden. Remy can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as he kneels down to try and look Aiden Vanity in the eye, but that guilt is quickly replaced by a cold fear as Aiden looks not at Remy, but past Remy – his eyes steeled and filled with a kind of rage he’s only ever seen once before.
Aiden Vanity: You will pay for your actions, Remy Garden, and I can guarantee you, it won’t be pretty.
Remy’s breath catches as he yanks himself away from Aiden Vanity, creating distance between the pair. Aiden’s eyes are locked on Remy as the young fighter begins to retreat from the scene.
Just as Remy turns away, ready to leave the scene, he catches, out of the corner of his eye, Aiden’s fierce stare morphing into a knowing, rabid grin.
SINGLES MATCH
SINGLES MATCH
JOSH KAINE
VS.
KING OSO
Backstage
ON THE WARPATH
Coming in hot, X-Calibur has the look of a man on the warpath. Black envelope in his hand, the Hall of Famer looks like the Terminator, ready to carry out his task at once. Or Prime Directive. Or whatever the fuck.
Various personnel are coming and going, getting in his way.
X-Calibur: FUCK OUTTA MY WAY!!
Everyone within the vicinity are trying to get out of his way. Finally, looking down at the black envelope again, X climbs on top of the maintenance ladder that a construction crew had been using to repair some light fixtures just outside of the Epicenter’s coffee shop.
X-Calibur: BREEEDLOOOVEEE! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! GET YOUR FUCKING FALSE PROPHET, WANNA-BE KING FUCKING ASS OUT HERE AND FACE ME LIKE A FUCKING MAN!!
Fans in the nearby POP hard at X’s sudden yelling.
X-Calibur: BREEEDLOOOVEEE! JOSHUAAAA! I. DON’T. FUCKING. CARE. WHO. YOU. THINK. YOU. ARE. BITCH.
Holding up the black envelope he received earlier in the week at his HOME, X looks around at everyone in sight. Breedlove wants the spotlight? Then the best way to get him to crawl out from his hole is by holding the spotlight.
X-Calibur: You DON’T get to break into my HOME. You DON’T get to break into my home WHERE MY DAUGHTER SLEEPS. You DON’T get to break into my home to try and INTIMIDATE ME AND MINE. I am fucking ABOVE. YOU. In every capacity. I am BETTER than you, in EVERY facet of this goddamn business. And BOY? That’s right, I said you fucking BOY– you’re gonna learn the hard way that you overplayed your hand with me. They don’t call me The Iron King, the King of the Iron Fist, the Iron God, and, my favorite, HALL OF FUCKING FAMER, for nothing.
Reaching up, X literally punches one of the repaired glass fixtures, grabbing a sharp piece of glass as he continues to stand atop the service ladder. Parts of glass fall onto his head to which he simply shakes off in all his uncaged fury.
X-Calibur: You wanna open a line of communication, BITCH?! Hahaha. Alright. How about I start by taking THIS (nods at the shard of glass) and raking it across your FUCKING FACE.
The onlookers in the promenade of the Epicenter all pop for X’s, well, for the lack of a better term, intensity, while calling out Breedlove.
X-Calibur: What you did to Laura was strike ONE. Breaking into my fucking HOME for your petty little game of “How can I keep myself in the center of SHOOT after I lost to Laura again?”?! That’s strike TWO. And by now I’m sure you understand that I am not a motherfucker that subscribes to the three-strike rule. With me? When you cross me? When you CROSS the fucking line and mess with me and mine?! Motherfucker, You’re lucky to get ONE before we snuff you the fuck out.
X looks around, still not seeing Breedlove or any of his underlings within the Empire.
X-Calibur: BREEEEEDLOOOOOO–
As X yells again, a body appears from one of the locker rooms. The World Heavyweight Champion. She looks slightly confused, though that look quickly disappears as she spots X.
Laura Seton: X!! Get down from there! What the hell…?
X looks down at Laura from atop the service ladder. His yelling has ceased and it’s turned conversational.
X-Calibur: No, Laura. Not gonna do it; I want the whole goddamn Epicenter to hear this! I’m SICK of the Breedlove show. I’m sick of that trollstain not going to the back of the line when he loses. I’m sick of everything he represents and it’s time someone canceled him outright. It is TIME someone put that son of a bitch on notice. And I can’t think of a better person to do it than ME.
Again, the onlooking crowd roars with approval.
Laura Seton: I get that. I do. If Breedlove did anything towards Chy or Alan, I’d go nuts too. Heck, I almost did when he managed to get a Christmas present to my boyfriend’s son. I get it…
She looks up at X, pleadingly, as he remains on the ladder looking out at everyone, just waiting for Breedlove to show up.
Slinging her title above her shoulder, Laura continues.
Laura Seton: But you’re better than this. I know you’ve got a few screws loose right now. Hehe. I know how you can get when it’s personal. And I’m more than sure Breedlove has something coming from you. But please, Eryk. Find that sensible side in you. Find him and get him in the ring. Then go nuts!
There’s a commotion.
Breedlove and some of his entourage have shown up, and he looks absolutely entertained by X’s fury and Laura trying to calm him down.
Joshua Breedlove: We heard this absolutely insane braying and howling happening in the hallways and just had to see what all the fuss was about. It sounded truly unhinged and I’m a big fan of getting any and every bit of tea I possibly can. Imagine the wonderful surprise I found when we got here and found out that it’s about little ol’ me! I sure am the talk of the town.
He keeps his smirk, watching the other two.
Joshua Breedlove: I was going to say “talk of the town these days” but let’s be real, I’m always the talk of the town. Every day.
Stopping for a moment, letting the pause become a little pregnant, he then offers a suggestion.
Joshua Breedlove: Since you’ve stopped frothing at the mouth, and since we’re talking about… talking… let’s go chat. I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.
X is still seething. No matter how calm, cool, and collected Breedlove plays it, it’s obvious that it’s getting to X.
Laura Seton: Don’t, Eryk. Please.
X-Calibur climbs down from the ladder, rung by rung. Each step he takes raises another hair on the back of the necks of everyone within the vicinity. Touching down onto the cement floor, X looks over towards Breedlove.
X-Calibur: Yeah. Okay, Breedzy. (Rolls his neck, popping it) Let’s fucking talk, then.
Looking at Laura, X sighs.
X-Calibur: Don’t worry. I won’t like kill him or anything. Don’t want to end up having SHOOT Sec bring me to the ring like Jeffrey Not Dahmer. But I’m good now. We’ll talk later?
Laura nods, but does reach out to grab his arm at the elbow. She gives a concerned look.
Laura Seton: Please…
X-Calibur: Stop. I said don’t worry. We’ll talk later.
X-Calibur, pointing at Breedlove, as if to say “Watch what you fucking say.” walks towards him. The Emperor of SHOOT in turn smirks and puts his hands up as if to say, “Don’t worry! I’m a man of my word!”, dripping with sarcasm.
As X disappears into the sea of people amongst the Epicenter’s outer concourse, Laura sighs with great concern.
Laura Seton: Yeah. What’s there to worry about?
Turning away from the scene, Laura heads in the opposite direction, back towards the locker room area.
Fade.
Backstage
PLAYING WITH CEASEFIRE
We cut to the back where we find the leader of HEXXXED and her manager/fiancé standing outside one of the many locker room doors lining the back halls of the SHOOT: Project Epicenter, though this one uniquely has a faint blue glow coming from below the door jam.
Zee: I still think this is a bad idea. We’re walking into a three on one.
Ayumi: Three on two.
Zee: Bitch, if you think I’m saving your ass from these spooky kookies you’re out of your damned mind. I love you, Yums, but even that kind of love has limits. And the limit is actively pissing off magic bug people.
Ayumi scoffs.
Ayumi: Please. I did half the shit they’re doing over a year ago and all I had to do was blackmail the audio and video engineers; these aphonic aphids are no more magic than Madame Mesmeralda’s disappearing testicles trick.
Zee: Yes, but don’t you want to know how she did that? And whether he ever got them back!?
Ayumi: All I want to know right now is who this WASP woman is and how she apparently knows me and what she wants. We want people to look to HEXXXED as the voice of the voiceless, yeah? Well, there ain’t getting any more voiceless than this group — and who knows, maybe the bugs and the beasts can find some common ground and make SHOOT: Project our personal animal kingdom.
Ayumi smirks.
Ayumi: With the lioness and her mate at the top, of course.
Zee smiles back, still nervous.
Zee: Of course.
Ayumi steps forward, looking down once more at the blue glow coming from beneath the door; she goes to knock, but in a split second the light goes away and the door opens with WASP standing in the threshold, somehow both annoyed and confident. Behind her, close enough for protection but far enough for space, are LOCUST and CICADA. They stand as if they had never been sitting. Did the members of SWARM ever sit? Relax?
WASP: Ayumi…Zee…to what do we owe the…pleasure?
Ayumi does her best to look calm and non-threatening; however, she can’t help trying to peek over WASP’s shoulder to see the source of the blue light, but sees nothing other than CICADA and LOCUST standing, silhouetted in menacing in the haunting azure light.
Ayumi: Look… I know shit went sideways with Barb, Seventeen, and Lars; that’s on me. And if you want to come at me for what I allowed to happen under my watch, then I deserve it.
WASP doesn’t say anything.
Ayumi: But… I don’t think that’s why you said what you said at Revolution. There’s something else going on here and I just want to know what it is…
WASP eyes Ayumi carefully.
Ayumi: …and what we could do to perhaps come to some sort of arrangement.
WASP grins, looking back at her SWARM teammates.
WASP: An arrangement she says…
Of course, LOCUST and CICADA show no reaction whatsoever, but when WASP turns back to Ayumi, she is grinning.
WASP: Well, it would be foolish to not hear you out. Obviously you are a woman of means and…expertises that I’m sure are very valuable. What are the terms of your ceasefire?
Ayumi looks back to Zee who nods affirmatively.
Ayumi: Okay, look.You know me and you know what I’ve done, but you also know what I’ve had done to me, yes?
WASP blinks, but otherwise doesn’t respond.
Ayumi: Right. Well… quite frankly, women like myself, women like NEMESIS, like RAIKO, like Belle… we may have found our own successes in the ring, but when it comes to everything outside of that squared circle? We’re second class citizens because of who we are – not as wrestlers, but as people. You can’t tell me that doesn’t ring true for you and your boys back there.
WASP nods.
WASP: Our organization…our partners…we are not unfamiliar with being the misfit toys of the world, the home for the lost and unwanted.
Ayumi: Exactly. But I also know that anyone in this line of work wants to be the best of the best. And after my loss to Laura… well…
Ayumi pauses, closing her eyes.
Ayumi: I realize that I may be past the point of filling that role myself, so what is most important to me, WASP, is supporting the women, and … sure, the men, who can inspire a new generation of “freaks” to know that, despite whatever shit they may be facing in their lives… there are people fighting for THEM here in SHOOT.
Ayumi’s voice escalates, growing more passionate as she continues.
Ayumi: My proposal, WASP, is that HEXXXED and SWARM? We’re fighting the same fight. And we should divide and conquer until every title in this company is held by a Beast… or Bug. In other words… we level the playing field and then we feast on the leftovers.
The confidence in WASP breaks for a second. A sadness, maybe even a hint of regret crosses her face. WASP closes her eyes and sighs.
WASP: Were it that this was the Ayumi I had met before I dawned this mask…
WASP opens her eyes. The sadness is gone. She remains calm, but there is a blue hot fire in her eyes, a bubbling rage under her cool demeanor.
WASP: But before I became WASP…before those two became LOCUST and CICADA, Ayumi Seppuku was something else…
As WASP speaks, the blue light coming from the SWARM locker room seems to grow brighter, but the exact location and origin of the light remain a mystery.
WASP: We can…relate to your struggle and your goals. We understand the…new intentions of HEXXXED 2.0. And because we appreciate this, we will present a counter offer.
Ayumi looks a bit surprised, but nods for WASP to continue.
WASP: Ayumi…
WASP looks down and let’s out another long sigh.
WASP: Leave.
Ayumi: Wha-
WASP looks up, a fire in her eyes.
WASP: You have wronged us. You do not know how, and we do not wish you to know how, but if you remain in SHOOT Project…in professional wrestling in general, we will seek to make you suffer. We will take our pounds of flesh and, Ayumi…
Something flickers in the eyes of WASP, something electric and blue.
WASP: Your debt is immense. But…if you leave, if you retire…we will take that as complete surrender and we will leave you alone. Your girls, your coven, we’d happily take them into the embrace of the blue if they want, or they can do whatever. As of right now, we have no quarrel with NEMESIS, RAIKO, or Bellacose, or even your lovely partner. But you, Ayumi…you have one way out as far as we are concerned, and I’m offering it right now.
Ayumi lets out an involuntary laugh, causing WASP to bristle.
Ayumi: Oh. Is that all?
Ayumi turns back to look at Zee, who is clearly on pins and needles. This only steels Ayumi’s resolve further as she looks back and takes a step forward to close the distance between her and WASP.
Ayumi: You talk a big game for someone who is playing hide and seek with their identity. But as they say, those in glass houses, right? So, let me fucking remind you who I am. And who HEXXXED is. We are SHOOT Project Hall of Famers. Heavyweight champions. Tag champions. And apart from all of that, we are five women who are done being told what to do – even if it’s by a discount theatre student cosplaying as an insect I’ve killed my own fair share of.
Ayumi’s voice escalates.
Ayumi: I would rather die in the ring than betray the women who upended their lives to come and fight for me. Fight for a better future here in SHOOT. So tell me, WASP, are you ready to take a life for what you believe in?
WASP stares in silence, not backing down, reading every emotion and movement of Ayumi’s face, taking in her words, posture, and tone completely. Finally, she scoffs.
WASP: Careful when bearing your teeth, Ayumi. All this talk of bugs being squashed, but what happens to a beast when they try to bite?
WASP grins.
WASP: They get put down. We’re done here.
Ayumi narrows her gaze and drops her shoulders, almost defeated, but just as WASP goes to close the door, she sticks her foot out and creates just enough of a gap for her and WASP to lock eyes one final time.
Ayumi: No. YOU’RE done here.
WASP’s grin extends even further as she kicks Ayumi’s foot out of the way and latches the door shut. As the door clicks shut, Ayumi turns back to Zee, whose ebony skin is several shades paler than normal.
Zee: Fuck. That was intense.
Ayumi looks back over her shoulder to the SWARM locker room and scoffs.
Ayumi: That wasn’t intense, babe. That was insanity.
The HEXXXED leader lets out a sigh and shakes her head before gesturing to Zee to follow her.
Ayumi: They want Ayumi Seppuku out of SHOOT: Project? Join the fucking club. Let’s go… RAIKO should be getting ready about now. We should be there for her.
Ayumi and a still-nervous Zee exit the scene as the backstage camera watches them move down the length of the hallway, eventually disappearing into the shadows.
TAG TEAM MATCH
TAG TEAM MATCH
GIGATON
FISSION
VS.
ROWLAND COLLINS
MICHAEL COLLINS
IN THE RING
A VERY SPECIAL GIFT
The sound system fires up. The opening notes to Vixtrola’s “Gunboat.” While everyone’s attention goes to the entrance area, only a percentage of fans begin going nuts.
Eryk Masters: Ohhhhh, now here’s something for some of the smarter, or older, fans to show their knowledge! We know who’s scheduled to come out, though there was no tip to this change of theme.
Jason Johnson: Indeed, Eryk. A theme she’s used in LEGACY as well as her EWA stint, it looks like Laura Seton is going a bit old school here!
A burst of red and pink pyro goes off at the top of the ramp as the song truly kicks in. The crowd’s cheering picks up as they recognize the figure of the SHOOT World Heavyweight Champion at the top of the ramp.
Eryk Masters: And with what Joshua Breedlove has been up to since the end of Redemption before the holidays, you wonder how Laura Seton’s been taking it.
Jason Johnson: And being in the unenviable position of having to defend her championship against someone as capable as Austin Anderson at the same time. You can’t help but wonder if her days with that title are numbered.
Laura makes a confident walk to the ring, title over her left shoulder. As she hits the ring, she has a quick pose holding the title high overhead before grinning and calling for a mic.
Laura Seton: This is still surreal. Ever since August fourth, the night of Iron Will 3, I have been able to look at this…
She turns her head towards the SHOOT World Heavyweight Championship.
Laura Seton: … Touch it… hold it…
The crowd gives a cheer, getting the champ to smile.
Laura Seton: Yet, this still seems like I’m caught in a fantasy. A whole other world. And the fact I held the title most of last year… well, maybe that’s unusual for a champion to say. But maybe that’s what trying to chase down such an honor for so long does to a person.
She takes a pause and admires the championship belt. A proud look, even if the appearance of holding back further emotion.
Laura Seton: It’s been one of the more unique roads in this sport. I don’t come from some hugely-populated state. I don’t come from even a major city in my home state. I was kinda spoiled as a kid, but my interests laid elsewhere. And yet, fate took control early enough to throw me towards wrestling. To get me in the ring. To be able to take a couple, two-tree retirements and still be able to conquer into my 40’s.
Another large cheer from the crowd.
Laura Seton: And while I’ve accomplished a ton over the years, I still want more. Because as World Heavyweight Champion, well, that work is never finished. I face Austin Anderson at Reckoning Day. He knows this road of what wrestling brings and does almost more than anyone else here. And facing him at Reckoning Day? We all know legends are cemented at such an event, right?
She grins as the fans again cheer her words.
Laura Seton: I know just what it’s like to enter this event as the challenger. All the mystique of such an event. The biggest one on the calendar and you enter it with basically nothing to lose. Give it your all and if you lose? You lost to the World Heavyweight Champion, but went down valiantly. If you win? Well… heh… you just became World Heavyweight Champion. I know you’re watching, Austin. I know in our respective careers we’ve never crossed paths nor even been in the same fed, but trust me, I’m going to be ready. Because that’s what I do. Somewhere out there, Joshua Breedlove is—
“JOSHUA BREEDLOVE HAS A VERY SPECIAL GIFT FOR YOU, SETES!”
The voice is unmistakable and with it comes an absolute chorus of boos, like a choir of hatred raining down. When he steps out onto the ramp, dressed in his smarmy black slacks, black dress shirt, and tie, the noise amplifies which draws a smile from the former World Heavyweight Champion and current reigning Soldier of the Year.
Joshua Breedlove: Ahh, my adoring public. Thank you, for your warm welcome.
BOOOOOOOOs ring out.
Joshua Breedlove: I was touched by what you said, Laura. Talking about all of your accomplishments, how you were just a small town milk and cookies kinda girl, and how you never expected to be in the position you’re in. You’re a true inspiration to all the other nobody’s out there who have nothing but the hope that they’ve struck the genetic lottery and will get the opportunity to do what you do.
He takes a few steps down the ramp while talking with his hands, now completely ignoring the crowd that’s giving him the vitriolic business.
Joshua Breedlove: Hell, you’re SO inspirational that I thought I’d come out here, say this, and then tell you about the gift that I’m about to give you. True generosity, you know? You see, people resonate with your story so much that they reach out to you, they wanna fight with you, for you. It’s remarkable, and you’ve become such a remarkable person as a result of all of that. And I want to thank you, Laura.
He pauses, smiling.
Joshua Breedlove: I want to thank you for providing that inspiration to the less-fortunate, less-informed, less-intelligent, because that message got to someone right here in the SHOOT Project! And because of that, I now have yet another way in. Another “attack vector” as the IT nerds would call it, and I gotta say… I’m really glad you gave me this opportunity. Please, folks. Bring him out.
Breedlove does a ceremonious step to the side as the shot refocuses on the top of the ramp. Soon, two members of the Empire, Muratagi Hanzo and Cromwell Yarbury emerge and with them they drag a victim. Someone who’s been beaten bloody, nearly unconscious, definitely all the worse for wear things you could imagine happening to someone.
Joshua Breedlove: In case the world doesn’t know who this is, it’s someone who has a lot of potential in this business. He just fought a match against King Oso earlier tonight. That’s right guys, gals, and non-binary pals, it’s JOSH KAINE!!!
Hanzo and Yarbury continue dragging Kaine towards the ring while Breedlove continues.
Joshua Breedlove: We warned him that there would be consequences to his choices and that he didn’t really know what he was getting himself into, but like the plucky underdog he’s carved his niche as, he didn’t listen. They never listen, Laura. So unfortunately, he had a little accident and found himself getting hit by an Empire branded truck. Figuratively, not literally. And you know who he has to blame for that?
Breedlove pauses as Yarbury and Hanzo reach the ring and roll the beaten Josh Kaine under the bottom rope at the feet of the World Heavyweight Champion.
Joshua Breedlove: It’s you. If you weren’t so darned inspirational, Josh Kaine would have made a different decision, but because you filled him with so many hopes and dreams, there he lay, at your feet… bloody and bruised, a specter for what’s to come in your life, of course. And before we go, I wanted to just do a little run-back on the end of the last show because I enjoyed it so much. Spotlights, if you please.
The sound of a light coming on clicks and Jeffrey James Roberts is shown in the crowd. Another click, Mike de los Huesos is in another part of the arena. One more click, the Collins Twins are sitting together near the front row. The final click, Joey “Golden” Burkhalter sits on the hard camera’s side, smirking.
Joshua Breedlove: Just a little demonstration. I can get to you any time, anywhere, any place and I can do it without laying a finger on your pretty little inspirational head. Now, we’ll take our leave. Tend to your pal and when he is lucid again, let him know that he’s got me at Reckoning Day. I’m gonna make his ass famous.
SINGLES MATCH
SINGLES MATCH
WASP
VS.
RAIKO
Backstage
A CHAT AMONGST ROYALTY
It had been a busy night of walking the Epicenter for Breedlove and his Empire. But times were real exciting for them right now, and this… this would be a bit of a deviation from making Laura Seton miserable, but would be a great long term gain for the Empire at large. It was so important, in fact, that Breedlove was with a much smaller entourage than he’s typically been seen with, and when he happens upon the victorious King Oso, he smiles.
Joshua Breedlove: JUST the man I want to see. Fancy a bit of a discussion, you know, amongst royalty?
Oso looks Breedlove up and down, and in his typical style, seems relatively unimpressed. If it bothers Breedlove one bit, he doesn’t show it. With a grunt, Oso nods, indicating towards a chair in the locker room.
Joshua Breedlove: Great. I love cutting to the chase.
They both take respective seats, Breedlove leaning forward to speak.
Joshua Breedlove: I remember you from when you came into the gym awhile back and I’ve been a fan of you, the Chingones, the Perros, all of it. As you may or may not know, I’m a huge fan of Lucha, and I think maybe my first World title win was as part of Reality Check Wrestling down in Mexico before all that unfortunate business with the Brigante Cartel.
He waves his hand, as if to erase a whiteboard or chalkboard, whichever generation appeals to you.
Joshua Breedlove: So with that in mind, I have this… we’ll call him an associate… who has sort of lost his way. He had a rough year last year and needs a reset. I hope to eventually bring him back under my Empire’s wings, but I think he needs time away to get his head right before that really happens. That’s where you come in. Interested so far?
King Oso: I’m holding back on making a judgement until I hear your song and dance in full.
Breedlove bristles a bit at this.
Joshua Breedlove: It’s pretty simple. I have a lot of money. I want to pay you some of that money to help an associate of mine get back into ring shape. How you do it, where you do it, whatever… I don’t care, but that’s the deal. My money for your time. You can use my facilities at your leisure if you want, you could find a warehouse with barbells and some pissed on yoga mats.
He leans back.
Joshua Breedlove: The payout is the same.
Oso takes this moment to lean back, scratching his goatee. One thing they never really prepare you for with Luchas like him is they are inscrutable to an insane degree, the subtle furrows of eyebrows and tics of the corners of mouths and wrinkling of noses all gone. It fucks with your perception of things. And either Oso knows this, and is making Breedlove sweat it out, or he’s thinking it through long and hard. After what seems like an eternity, he speaks–for the first time in this exchange, at length.
King Oso: I’m not joining you. Not flying your colors. I’ve worked too hard to get back here to be some sort of do-boy for an extremely talented competitor with an overinflated sense of his own grandeur. So long as you’re cool with that, then we have an agreement.
He stands, extending a massive mitt to The Emperor.
King Oso: And the payout? Double it.
Breedlove doesn’t even blink.
Joshua Breedlove: I’m not asking you to fly my colors, in fact, I want this to happen outside of the Empire’s purview, short of using the facilities if you want. Money’s whatever, we have a deal. I’ll have Mr. Dean go through the particulars with you, thank you for your unknowing assistance in my delivery of a gift, but for right now I’ve got a main event to win.
They clasp hands after Breedlove stands up, and Oso cracks a rare smirk, though with him it seems more like a sneer.
King Oso: Remind Anderson what happens when you come after royalty.
Breedlove hops to his feet, leaving Clemson Dean to discuss details with King Oso, and throws out a sing-songy “That’s what I do” as he walks away, bringing the scene to a close.
IN THE RING
ADDICTION
The lights in the arena dim, and the haunting melody of “Lux Aeterna” by Clint Mansell begins to echo throughout the Epicenter. The crowd rises to their feet, a mix of anticipation and reverence washing over them. A single spotlight illuminates the stage as “The Absolute” Austin Anderson steps out. Dressed in his wrestling gear, his face shows a rare vulnerability. This isn’t the usual composed, articulate Anderson; there’s a rawness in his eyes. He walks down the ramp slowly, the weight of years visible in every step, every motion. He climbs into the ring, microphone in hand, and stands still for a long moment as the crowd quiets, sensing the gravity of what’s about to be said.
Austin Anderson: There’s a truth I’ve been avoiding for a long time. A truth that’s been staring me in the face every morning when I wake up and feel every ache, every pain, every reminder of the years I’ve spent in this ring. And that truth is this: I’m running out of time.
The crowd murmurs, caught off guard by Anderson’s uncharacteristic candor. He looks down at the mat, as if searching for the right words.
Austin Anderson: I’m 52 years old. Fifty-two. Do you know what that means in this business? It means I’ve outlasted most. It means I’ve given more of myself than anyone could ever expect. And it means I’m closer to the end than I am to the beginning. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, there’s a reality I can’t escape: one day soon, I’ll have to walk away from this ring.
He pauses, his voice trembling slightly as he continues.
Austin Anderson: And the thought of that terrifies me. Because wrestling… wrestling is my life. It’s been my life for as long as I can remember. I didn’t get married. I didn’t have kids. I didn’t build a family or a life outside of this because I was addicted. Addicted to proving, night in and night out, that I was the best. Addicted to the thrill of the fight, the sound of that bell, the roar of the crowd. Addicted to the idea that as long as I was in this ring, I mattered.
He leans against the ropes, looking out at the crowd, his voice growing steadier but no less emotional.
Austin Anderson: And now, here I am, with an opportunity to do something I’ve obsessed over every day of my career. To stand in the main event at Reckoning Day, to fight for the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship, to face one of the very best this company has ever seen in Laura Seton. It’s the kind of moment you chase your entire life, the kind of moment that defines who you are.
Anderson steps away from the ropes, pacing slowly, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through the silence.
Austin Anderson: But here’s the thing about addiction: it never leaves you. Even when you know it’s time to walk away, it pulls you back in. It whispers in your ear, telling you that you’ve got one more match, one more fight, one more mountain to climb. And that’s why I’m here, standing in this ring, pouring my heart out to all of you. Because I need this. I need to win. I need to prove that after all these years, after everything I’ve sacrificed, I am still ‘The Absolute.’
The crowd begins to cheer, rallying behind Anderson’s vulnerability, but he quickly raises a hand to quiet them.
Austin Anderson: I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m not looking for pity. I’m just telling you the truth. Wrestling has been my entire world, and the idea of a world without it? A world where I wake up and don’t hear the crowd, don’t feel the rush of that bell ringing? That’s a world I don’t know how to live in. And that’s why this opportunity means everything to me. Because if I’m going out, I’m going out on top. I’m going out with that championship around my waist, proving to everyone, and to myself, that I was always, always the best.
He stops in the middle of the ring, his eyes narrowing as his tone shifts, now more determined, more resolute.
Austin Anderson: But before I get to Laura Seton, I have to deal with you, Josh Breedlove. You want to make this about you. You want to turn this into another chapter in your never-ending quest for attention. But you’re not the story here, Josh. You’re just another step forward, another obstacle on my road to destiny. And make no mistake, I will step over you, I will defeat you, and I will move on to what really matters: Reckoning Day.
The crowd erupts as Anderson’s intensity rises, his voice filled with fire.
Austin Anderson: At Reckoning Day, I face Laura Seton, a champion who has defined this company, a woman who has carried the SHOOT Project banner with pride and excellence. And Laura, I know you’ll bring everything you’ve got. I wouldn’t expect anything less. But understand this: I am fighting for more than a title. I am fighting for my legacy, for my purpose, for the very thing that has defined my life. I am fighting to prove that even at 52 years old, I am still the best. I am still The Absolute.
Anderson steps to the ropes, gripping them tightly as he delivers his final words.
Austin Anderson: Wrestling is my addiction. And like every addict, I know my time is running out. But before the curtain falls, before this all ends, I will give everything I have left to make this dream a reality. So Josh Breedlove, get ready to fall. And Laura Seton… get ready to meet me at the top. Because I will not stop. I will not falter. And I will not fail. This is my time. This is my redemption. This is my legacy.
Anderson drops the microphone as “Lux Aeterna” begins to play again, the crowd giving him a standing ovation. He stands tall in the ring, his emotions laid bare, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air as he waits.
MAIN EVENT
GUEST REFEREE AT RECKONING DAY
JOSHUA BREEDLOVE
VS.
AUSTIN ANDERSON
POST MATCH
RUBBING IT IN
Breedlove laughs to himself as he rolls off of Austin Anderson, the crowd booing at the result. He gets to his feet and leans up against the turnbuckle, hand nonchalantly out to the side, waiting for a microphone.
Jason Johnson: This man is definitely about to rub it in.
Eryk Masters: Oh, of course. Of course he is.
He’s definitely catching his breath though, and maybe even a little surprised at what Austin Anderson brought in the ring. Anderson’s rolled out and Breedlove’s received his talking stick.
Joshua Breedlove: Gotta say… didn’t expect to have to work so hard in that match. Anderson brought it, and I might have had a shoe untied, but god damn.
He laughs and the crowd boos at the turnabout with his words.
Joshua Breedlove: Yeah yeah. Look, tonight was an up and down kind of night for the Empire, but if you were thinking that was going to get in the way of me worming into this Reckoning Day main event? Hooooboy don’t you look silly. Some day, y’all will figure out that I’m the main character of this motherfucker and that ain’t changing anytime soon.
Eryk Masters: He does have that energy, Jason.
Jason Johnson: Barf.
Joshua Breedlove: So to you Austin, you did an unholy amount of talking for all that losing you just did, but, you know… well played I guess. To you, Laura… see you in the ring at Reckoning Day, sweetie. Josh Kaine? I know you’re maybe back on the conscious side of the world and are probably watching… I’m looking forward to putting you through an advanced course of ‘Getting My Ass Beat Because I Made Poor Choices 101’, name still pending.
He waves a very obnoxious wave to the camera.
Joshua Breedlove: And maybe now y’all will get it through your skull what I’ve been trying to tell you for years. Years. When it comes to main events and being in the “main event scene”…
Even his air quotes are annoying.
Jason Johnson: God, the air quotes.
Eryk Masters: A good way to highlight a phrase, Jason.
Joshua Breedlove: When it comes to being in the main event scene, I live here. Y’all are just on vacation. Now, lemme take this bow.
With that, he tosses the microphone aside, moves to the center of the ring, does an overly gestural blown kiss out to the crowd, and takes a bow as though he’s Lin Manuel-Miranda and it’s the first night of Hamilton on Broadway.
Black.