Ruination 35

    Ssslithering Good Time

    Backstage, the current Iron Fist Champion Lexi Gold is seen inside of her locker room sitting on a chair sewing up something while her snakes are slithering on the ground next to her feet. She was already in her ring gear and was set to compete later in tag action, but right now her focus was on this. She finished in what looked to be some sort of sweater. She picked up one of her snakes off the ground, set it on her lap, and placed the sweater on the snake, then once she was done it wrapped itself tightly around her neck as she sat back and closed her eyes for a few minutes.

     

    Lexi Gold: So, about the match later, do you honestly think I can trust IAM to be a reliable partner in our tag match?

     

    ….

     

    Lexi Gold: I am on the fence about him, too. It’s hard to put my trust into anyone involved in this match, for that matter. I am a huge target to them, after all. I’m like the mouse in this situation, and they are the bad snakes. I got what they want, but I’m not going to give them to take this away. They can have their own opinions about me, but I busted my ass since day one. You guys believe in me, right?

     

    ….

     

    They slighter around the ground and use their bodies to make the shape of a heart, then she melts in an instant, almost seemed like she was about to cry.

     

    Lexi Gold: I knew I could count on you babies. I’ll make you proud and put on the best performance out there. I’m going to get going now, but promise me you won’t get into the rest of the locker’s bags, okay? 

     

    She kisses each of their foreheads before draping her championship over her shoulder and leaving her locker room to get set to compete in the ring.

    Jacob Mephisto/Haskell Payne Vs. Lexi Gold/IAM

    Glue Me, Daddy

    The camera cuts backstage to the generic heel locker room. It is empty save for one man posing in front of a full-length mirror with a bottle of baby oil on the bench behind him. That man is, you guessed it, Chick Grillbreast, the SHOOT Project Shut Up and Wrestle Champion.

     

    Chick Grillbreast: Oooh yeah, lookit these SICK GAINZ. Your traps could snag a bear! Those delts? They’re not expendable! LOOK AT ALL THIS BEEF ON TOP OF MY ARMS!! I ALSO DO NOT SKIP LEG DAY, UGH!

     

    He squat jumps into the air, shaking the mirror and the bench, then slowly rises to his feet, rolling his neck. He stands, eyes affixed on his own ripped musculature.

     

    Whisper Voice: Okay, now’s your chance.

     

    Dutch Harris: Wait, did you hear that?

     

    Scott Kamura: I can’t quite make it out, but something’s afoot.

     

    Onto the scene scurries Molly Stein, wearing camo yoga pants, sneakers, and sports bra, and stealthily carrying a bottle identical to Chick’s baby oil. While Chick is still transfixed looking upon his own Adonisesque physique, she switches out the bottles and then creeps back.

     

    Molly Stein: whispering Okay, the eagle has landed.

     

    Dan Stein: whispering Good, let’s get the heck outta here then.

     

    The two leave from their spot nearly off camera as Chick grabs the bottle off the bench, blissfully unaware that it’s been swapped out. He turns it upside down over his outstretched left palm and looks puzzled as it doesn’t immediately slide from the bottom to the spout.

     

    Chick Grillbreast: Has my baby oil gone bad in the two minutes since I last used it? That makes me… SO. MAD!!!!

     

    He punches a locker, putting a dent in it, then puts his hand back out under the bottle, squeezing and shaking it vigorously until some of the substance, which is clearly not baby oil at this point, globs onto his hand. He starts rubbing it on his right shoulder, but when he tries pulling back, well…

     

    Chick Grillbreast: Uh… my hand’s stuck? WHAT THE HELL!!!

     

    He continues trying to yank his hand off of his shoulder to no avail, thrashing around the locker room like an unruly marlin in its death throes that has slipped off the hook onto the deck of a fishing vessel.

     

    Chick Grillbreast: SOMEONE GLUED MY HAND TO MY SHOULDER!!! I AM SO MAD RIGHT NOW!!

     

    In his confusion, Chick charges forward but trips over a bag someone left on the floor, flying headlong into another locker.

     

    CRASH!

     

    His head leaves a dent on the locker as he falls to the floor, unconscious.

    Keiji Tokugawa Vs. Superbeast

    Motivation

    Lennox Ferguson sits, facing the camera, as we hear a door close behind him.

    SHOOT Project’s Chief of Staff doesn’t need to look to see who it is. Rather, he just closes his eyes and waits until an arm wrapped in a business suit appears from out of frame and finds its way onto the back of Ox’s chair.

    Lennox Ferguson: Hi boss.

    There is only silence as Josh Johnson moves around to face Lennox, hoisting himself up onto his office desk so that he is looking down at the SHOOT Project veteran. Real Deal looks Lennox in the eyes for a brief second before sighing and closing his own.

    Real Deal: What a fuckin’ mess.

     

    Lennox says nothing.

    Real Deal: What happened? Huh? I’ve been trying to piece this together for over a week now and I still don’t know how one of my executive team ends up putting one of our roster members in the hospital! 


    Ox raises his hand.

    Lennox Ferguson: Well, Donovan King…

    Real Deal: Don’t get fuckin’ smart with me, Ox. Not now. Not tonight when we’re performing at Madison Square Garden. I’m already fuckin tense enough as it is.

    The two former rivals, now coworkers, sit in silence for several seconds.

    Lennox Ferguson: Let me make it up to you… 


    Real Deal shakes his head.

    Real Deal: I’m not the one who needs the courtesy, Lennox. Have you even BEEN to see your son since you gave him an aneurysm? Fuckin’ thank God they got in there quickly enough and it’s likely not going to have any lasting impacts. But the kid is fuckin’ nineteen! You could have ended his career and for what!? I just don’t UNDERSTAND.

    The SHOOT Project CEO leans in towards Lennox.

    Real Deal: Lennox, I need you to help me understand. I can’t pretend to know what it is that motivated you to come back here, Ox, and sure as hell I can’t pretend to know what it is that’s been motivating you to toy with Daihm the way you have… 

    Lennox goes to say something in response but then shuts his mouth. As he does, Real Deal pushes himself off his desk and begins to walk past Ox, heading for his office door.

    Real Deal: No matter what’s motivated you before, Ox, there is only one thing that should be motivating what decision you make next. For your sake and for Daihm’s sake, whatever THIS is between you two needs to end… because if it doesn’t?

     

    The door opens slowly.

    Real Deal: Then I’ll give you both something to truly be motivated about.

     

    Lennox closes his eyes as Real Deal closes the door firmly behind him with a loud *click*

     

    Double Tap

    The lights in Madison Square Garden cut to black and cause a roar from the crowd to emanate in waves before a familiar humming sound pipes through the speakers and the arena is bathed in purple.

    Mmmmmm Mmmmmmmm

    Dorothy’s “Rest in Peace” kicks on

    Blood on my hands, what’s done is done

    Left you by the road with the crows in the duuuuuuuuuuust.

    The audio of the track begins to distort horribly.

    Onnnnnne daaaaay I’ll be daaaaaaancing 

     

    Daaaaaaancing

     

    Daaaaaaancing


    D-d-d-d-d dancing on your grrrrrraaaaaaavvveeee.

     

    Suddenly, an explosion of fireworks from the rampway kick off as we see Judy Punchinello standing with her Rule of Surrender title around her waist. Wearing her iconic Oni mask, Judy raises the microphone and begins to…. sing.

     

    Judy Punchinello: Mother… Tell your children not to walk my waaaaaay. Tell your children not to hear my words. What they mean, what they say. Moooooootherrrrrrrrr.

    Judy walks calmly down to the ring as she continues an acapella rendition of the iconic Danzig song that causes the arena to fall into a hushed silence. A noticeable chill fills the air as Judy laughs through the refrain.

    Judy Punchinello: Not about to see your light, but if you wanna find hell with me I can show you what it’s like….’til you’re bleeding. MOTHER.

    Eryk Masters: This is just cruel what Judy has done these past few months to Laura Seton. Now she’s just trying to twist the knife.

     

    Other Guy: I mean… wouldn’t you?

    Eryk Masters: NO! I have morals! 

     

    Other Guy: Your Tinder profile says otherwise….

    As Judy Punchinello enters the ring and lets the last lyrics of her rendition play out she reaches up and takes off her mask, revealing a horrifying-looking ghoulish set of makeup portraying a decaying corpse. The appearance is even more chilling as Judy smiles.

     

    Judy Punchinello: What’s up Yanks? I was so sorry to hear about your baseball troubles… 

     

    The fans begin to boo.

     

    Judy Punchinello: …then again, after being here a couple days I think your entire city could use some good sweeping. Fuckin’ ell.

    The crowd becomes white hot as Judy throws her head back in laughter. 

     

    Judy Punchinello: Oh you fuckin’ twats. You’re so easy to manipulate… but don’t worry. You don’t hold a candle to my friend Laura. Ohhhh Laura, Laura, Laura. The absolute contortions she has been putting herself in to just try and understand why this is all happening to her! Why does her sister hate her? Why is she being visited by CPS? Why can’t she just get over the hump and make something of herself in SHOOT Project?

     

    Judy smiles.

    Judy Punchinello: Why? Hmmm? Well… that should be fuckin’ obvious to anyone whose been paying attention these last few months.

    She points down to the belt around her waist.


    Judy Punchinello: Because THIS, SHOOT Project, is no country for old icons. Especially washed up, flailing, losers like La-

    The opening lines to Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” hits the speakers, cutting off Judy Punchinello as none other than Laura Seton shows up at the top of the rampway to a roaring response from the crowd. The number one contender for Punchinello’s belt is in the Halloween spirit, wearing an outfit resembling Rainbow Bright, including a purple bow in her hair. Though dressed as an 80’s cartoon character, her attitude is much less fun appearing, as she looks like she may well burn Judy alive just with her stare.

    Other Guy: Holy shit! That is as angry as I think I’ve ever seen Laura Seton, Eryk. She has absolutely had enough of the Rule of Surrender champion here tonight.

    Eryk Masters: Definitely not your mom’s Rainbow Bright up there.  Like Laura, we all feel Judy’s crossed a line.  Judy’s ego has been growing two sizes each day and now it’s as big as Macy’s Parade float.

     

    Other Guy: Calm down, Eryk. There’s still a couple hours left in Halloween, no need to mix your holiday metaphors here. I think you mean to say she’s been acting like a Grade A WITCH; with a capital W. 

     

    Judy Punchinello: Well, well, well, Laura. I see you’re keeping your appropriate legal dis-

    Laura Seton: SHUT. UP.

     

    Judy smirks.

     

    Judy Punchinello: Make me.

    The crowd roars as Laura begins to walk her way down the ring but forces herself to stop at the apron.

     

    Judy Punchinello: Oh that’s RIGHT. You CAN’T until Reckoning Day because if you do you’ll lose those precious little dumplings Cheyenne and Alan. And to think… all you had to do was be the icon. The professional you claim to be and watch your fuckin’ temper. But you couldn’t. Because, as I’ve said from the beginning, YOU, Laura Seton, have NO PLACE in SHOOT Project any more.

     

    The crowd boos, trying to shout Judy down, as Laura cuts right to the chase.

    Laura Seton: I still belong here! I had a slow return, I give you that, but you have a selective memory.  I WON the right to face you at Reckoning Day!  You could just as easily be facing Daihm or NEMESIS…

     

    Judy shakes her head.

    Judy Punchinello: Laura, Laura, Laura… you’ve already LOST to me. MULTIPLE times. That you keep chasing this wild dream of yours is only delaying the inevitable. 

     

    Laura Seton: You’re right Judy.

    Laura points at the ring, causing the fans to gasp lightly and mutter as Judy now also seems intrigued.

    Laura Seton: So I came up with something.  Something that I sat down and discussed with those in charge here. I’m not going to be comfortable beating you for the Rule of Surrender title just once. I’ll only be satisfied if I can make you tap out TWICE.

     

    Laura holds up a slip of paper so Judy can see it.

    Laura Seton: And apparently it was a–pardon the pun–golden idea, because they agreed to it. At Reckoning Day, Judy, we’re going to TRULY see who has the stamina, will power, and determination to be a SHOOT Project champion because the Rule of Surrender championship match is now a best two out of three falls match – submissions ONLY.

    Eryk Masters: Holy shit! Is that a first here in SHOOT? Some sort of Iron Will version of Rule of Surrender? That’s epic, OG!

     

    Other Guy: With the feud these two have had over these past months, there is no question this face off needed to be BIG but this… this is unprecedented.

     

    Judy smirks and nods.

     

    Judy Punchinello: Well look who fuckin’ finally found a backbone. And, sure, Laura, that’s all well and good to heal your wounded ego, but why should I give you that chance? Especially dressed like that.

     

    Laura undoes the ribbon in her hair before violently yanking it out.

     

    Laura Seton: That better, you little bitch?

     

    Judy’s expression quickly goes sour, but she tries to regain composure..

     

    Judy Punchinello: You kiss your kiddos with that mouth, Laura? 

     

    Laura has a chuckle of her own.

     

    Laura Seton: At least I have kids. No amount of Punky Popsicles are going to change THAT for you.

     

    Judy looks like she wants to rip Laura’s head off.

     

    Judy Punchinello: Fuckin’ ‘ell, girl, you tryin’ to get your noggin punched out tonight? I certainly wouldn’t advise it.

     

    Laura Seton: If you want to come at me, come at me. I already deal with you, or references to you, from my kids every day. Cheyenne’s out trick or treating as you right now. This needs to stop NOW.

     

    That gets a grin from the champ.

     

    Judy Punchinello: How adorable! And who exactly is TAKING them trick-or-treating, Laura? The ghost of absentee mothers?

    Laura fumes but forces herself to stay outside the ring.

    Laura Seton: You watch your damned mouth, PUNKY.

     

    Judy’s gaze narrows as her tone shifts.

     

    Judy Punchinello: FINE. Laura. YOU’RE ON at Reckoning Day. I am going to end this once and for all to make it CLEAR as FUCKIN’ DAY that OLD talent needs to be on the BENCH and not in the ring. So, when I beat you two more times, just like the other THREE times I’ve beaten you, then, maybe, FINALLY you’ll get it through your thick fuckin’ skull – and EVERYONE ELSE here will see the truth – that YOU, Laura Seton, are absolutely WORTHLESS.

    Judy walks over to the ropes where Laura is at. She looks down at her challenger and savors every word.

    To SHOOT. 

     

    To your family.

    And ESPECIALLY to your KIDS.

     

    With those last words, Laura snaps and jumps up, reaching for Judy’s neck. Judy staggers back in shock as Laura begins to pull herself through the ropes and make her way towards Judy Punchinello.  

     

    A series of security officers, waiting in the wings, quickly descend on Laura Seton as they slide into the ring and hold her back from going after Judy. Meanwhile, the RoS Champion smirks and laughs while Laura screams out her name. 

     

    As she walks up to look Laura directly in the eyes, her emotions fuming, Judy simply shakes a finger at Laura before putting her mask back on and then slowly, confidently, walking backwards – rolling out of the ring and then escaping like a ghost through the capacity crowd.

    Isaiah Gailliard Vs. Luis de Leon

    Scott Kamura:  Too often in this business we see tag teams fall apart.  Danni Johnson walked away from Ria Lockhart, for example.  What we’re seeing tonight is…well…ironic after how much these two laughed at the Sisters of Steel.

     

    Dutch Harris:  Man, let me tell you.  I’ve been a member of some epic tag teams in my time and nothing hurts more than when they turn on you.

     

    Scott Kamura:  Which…of your partners turned on you?

     

    Dutch Harris:  …let’s head down to the ring for the introductions!

     

    Samantha Coil:  Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!

     

    WELLLLLL

     

    “King’s Dead” by Kendrick Lamar brings the fans to boo as the hooded Smoke himself, El Fumar Luis de Leon steps out from the back.  He is sneering, furious.  Stepping out behind him is El Paria, reaching up and rubbing Smoke’s shoulders, whispering in his ear to hype him up.

     

    Samantha Coil:  Introducing first…hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina!  Accompanied to the ring by El Paria…he is EL FUMAR…

     

    Paria snatches the microphone from her.

     

    El Paria:  Sit down, mami.

     

    The fans boo as “King’s Dead” stops playing.

     

    El Paria:  He is El Humo del Fuego Negro!  He is el Leon Latino!  He is El Humo Latino!  El Calor de Lucha Libre!  La Columna de Humo!  He is Luis….DEEEEEEEEEE LEON!

     

    Smoke throws his hood off and throws his jacket to the ground.  He turns to the entrance stage and watches intently.

     

    Dutch Harris:  Honestly, you hate to see any team break up, even if they’re these highly talented and highly arrogant kids.

     

    WELLLLLL

     

    “King’s Dead” kicks in again and “The Carolina Reaper” Isaiah Galliard steps out from the back.  He’s already shaking his head, disapproving of the events unfurling before him.

     

    Reaper:  Cut this music, man.  Cut this.

     

    Isaiah glares down at the ring before he changes his expression and scoffs.

     

    Reaper:  I’m not an idiot, man.  I see you, Luis.  I see you, Paria.  I ain’t stupid.  I know what’s goin’ down here.  You wanna catch me off guard, bitch smack me, maybe take me out like we did to Donovan King.

     

    Smoke and Paria look at one another and then look at the Reaper, trying to play dumb.

     

    Reaper:  But…you know what?  Y’all two ain’t the only ones could play at that game.

     

    The fans give a small anticipatory pop.

     

    Reaper:  I spent the last few weeks training, learnin’, understanding from the absolute best in this business.  The best in this industry.  Icons, man.  Hall of Famers, man.  Champions.

     

    The fans are buzzing as Reaper grins from ear to ear and holds his hand out, motioning for everyone to see his surprise.

    I look around and Sin City’s cold and empty….
    No one’s around to judge me.

    I can’t see clearly when you’re gone.

    With a roar from the crowd, none other than Lindsay Troy and Ayumi Seppuku, Lux Aeterna themselves, appear on either side of Isaiah as The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights” hits the speakers. The tag team champions look down at the ring, arms crossed, at the clearly annoyed faces of Smoke and Pariah.

    I said, ooh, I’m blinded by the lights

    I’m blinded by the lights.

     

    Scott Kamura:  WHOA!  I guess it’s official!  The battle lines are drawn and Smoke and Paria are all of a sudden outnumbered!

     

    Dutch Harris:  The living embodiment of if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! Isaiah Galliard said to hell with his team, to hell with his ambitions, to hell with his glory, he is here to learn and he is here to play second fiddle to Lux Aeterna!

     

    Scott Kamura:  Isaiah Galliard is a student of the game, Dutch.  He didn’t turn his back on anyone.  He has respect, he’s showing respect, he’s learning from two absolute greats in this business!

     

    Dutch Harris:  He betrayed everything he allegedly represented in that Carolina Lions tag team!  They were gonna be award winning!  They were gonna save this division!

     

    Scott Kamura:  You see those champions?  Look at those champions and tell me this division needs saving!

     

    Dutch Harris:  This division needs saving!

     

    Reaper, Lindsay Troy, and Ayumi Seppuku walk in a phalanx formation down the ramp before they align in a row at the apron. Isaiah looks to both of his mentors one at a time and then, in unison, the three of them enter the ring.  Isaiah looks uncomfortable and suddenly, his confidence is gone and he looks at Ayumi and Lindsay, hoping for some boost, some hope for him.  He is facing his only friend he’s had, after all.

     

    Dutch Harris:  Coward, man.  He can’t handle what he’s done.

     

    Scott Kamura:  Lindsay Troy and Ayumi Seppuku are there to build him up, keep his head focused.

     

    Luis and Paria mock Isaiah.  Both men make belt motions across their waists, hinting to Lux Aeterna what their aspirations are.  They walk to the middle of the ring.  The members of Lux Aeterna take a few steps forward until standing side by side with the Carolina Reaper.  He looks to them one more time as he nods his head.

     

    Reaper:  Thank you.  Both y’all.  Thank you.

     

    The three of them prepare to fight Paria and Luis de Leon.  Isaiah takes another awkward step back, clearly uncomfortable still facing his only friend.  He is uncertain, he tries to prepare himself.  A thunder flashes in his eyes.  He’s ready to fight and, at last he… NAILS LINDSAY TROY AND AYUMI SEPPUKU WITH A DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE!  The fans ERUPT into boos as Luis SMACKS a roaring elbow into Ayumi’s temple and Paria DROPS Lindsay with a double arm DDT!

     

    Scott Kamura:  NO!

     

    Luis looks at Isaiah and the two of them…smile.  They embrace.  The ruse was perfect.  Isaiah picks Ayumi up and pinches her cheeks, yelling in her face.

     

    Reaper:  YOU CAN NEVER BREAK THIS UP.  WE WILL SAVE OUR DIVISION.  THIS…

     

    He motions to the arena and points in Ayumi’s face.

     

    Reaper:  …IS OURS.

     

    Without warning, Reaper hits a snap swinging neckbreaker that he calls the Scythe.  Lindsay is up, staggered, slinging punches and elbows at El Paria and at Smoke!  Paria slides from the ring!  Reaper goes to hit Lindsay, who ducks his punch and throws him away!  Smoke is next, but he catches a HARD shot to the jaw!  He’s staggered and she takes a hold of him, hooking his head and leg with the quickness!

     

    Scott Kamura:  HER WILL BE DONE THY KINGDOM COME!

     

    Before she can execute her devastating maneuver, however, Paria SLAMS a steel chair to her back!  She releases Luis, clenching her teeth in a mixture of rage and pain.  This allows Reaper to grab her from behind, belly to back, Luis is there to catch her…GRAND AMPLITUDE.  Reaper and Smoke stand over her as Paria rains down steel chair shots on Ayumi on the side.  Isaiah grabs the dropped microphone.

     

    Reaper:  Hey!  Hey, Paria!

     

    The fans are booing loudly at Isaiah, who smirks.

     

    Reaper:  Bring that chair over here, bruh!

     

    El Paria stops his assault on Ayumi and saunters over to Isaiah and Luis.  He leans over to listen to Isaiah as he whispers in his ear.

     

    Reaper:  We don’t need to fight y’all for the titles no time soon.  Matter of fact, nobody should fight y’all.  Lux Aeterna needs to die.

     

    He looks down at Lindsay, who is starting to stir.

     

    Reaper:  And we ‘bout to kill it.

     

    Paria unfolds the chair and places Lindsay’s HEAD in it.

     

    Scott Kamura:  No!  NO!  SOMEBODY GET OUT HERE!

     

    Smoke walks over to Ayumi, straddling her, and raining elbows down onto her head.  She’s long since been unable to deflect or guard against the assault.  Something is clearly wrong and damaged.  There’s blood from her eyebrow.

     

    Reaper:  The queens…are dead.  Long live…the

     

    The horns sound and “American Venom” POPS the crowd!  BUCK DRESDEN rushes the ring, an aluminum bat in hand!  Smoke quickly slides out of the ring and yells at Paria and Reaper!  Buck slides into the ring and charges at Reaper, who Paria trips, makes him fall, and drags him out of the ring before he’s decapitated from a HARD swing of the bat!  Buck points to the three upstarts, saying nothing.  They back up to the entrance stage and take solace in what they’ve done even if it isn’t with the finality they hoped for.

     

    Dutch Harris:  We almost saw two careers end here tonight, Scott.

     

    Scott Kamura:  Thank God there’s still SOME honor and things such as loyalty in this company, right?

     

    Dutch Harris:  Hell no, man!  I wanted to call a piece of history!  The live, on-screen destruction of Lux Aeterna!

     

    Buck drops the bat and removes the chair from Lindsay’s head.  He cradles her head for a second, gently tapping her cheek to check on her.  She is far more awake than her partner.  She notices it almost instantly, too.  She shakes her head no and motions to Ayumi.  Buck understands, getting up from her and rushing over to Ayumi’s side.  He bends down, trying to talk to her as EMTs begin to rush the ring.  Lindsay Troy is on her hands and knees, incensed beyond measure.  Ayumi, however, is helped up to a sitting position with a fire in her eyes unparalleled.  Lux Aeterna, for all the onslaught they just dealt with, are conscious and, for lack of a better word, irrevocably furious.  The camera shifts over to the Carolina Lions and El Paria.

     

    Scott Kamura:  These sons of bitches, Dutch.  These…these KIDS pulled off a perfect plan.  They played off of the honor, loyalty, and love for this business Lindsay and Ayumi have and abused that!  

     

    Dutch Harris:  I know!  I KNOW!  I’m so proud!  They outsmarted the icons!  They’re without question walking out of here with the upper hand!  Hell, Lux Aeterna have a match literally TOMORROW against Riot Patrol!

     

    Scott Kamura:  Win or lose tomorrow for our champions, I guarantee they won’t take this lying down.  Reckoning Day is right around the corner, and I think the Lions just punched their ticket to an early grave!

     

    Buck helps both members of Lux Aeterna to their feet and the two of them manage to stand tall even after the assault.  The camera catches Lindsay putting her arm around Ayumi to check on her partner.  Ayumi, however, glares ahead at the Lions and Paria.  There will be hell to pay very soon.

     

    But for tonight…the Pride of the Carolinas, the Carolina Lions, are reunited and as dangerous as ever.

     

    #1 vs. #2? It's just business.

    Scott Kamura: Well, while they get all of that cleaned up and sorted out, hopefully Ayumi and LT will be ready to rock tomorrow night.

     

    Dutch Harris: LT? You guys are like that, eh? 

     

    Scott Kamura: I’ve had a long career, Dutch. I’m “like that” with a lot of people. Speaking of which, we’re gonna head backstage to Abigail Chase, who’s standing by  with JBeezy himself, the former two-time SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Champion… Joshua Breedlove. 

     

    The crowd starts booing again, not having had much to cheer for in the last several minutes, but Abigail Chase stands by as Joshua Breedlove walks into the frame. He sports a beard, new white, black, and gold tights, and a shirt that simply reads “THE EMPIRE” in black text with a gold outline. Minimal and elegant. Nothing like Joshua Breedlove.

     

    Abigail Chase: You asked for this time, Mr. Breedlove, so tell us what you’re thinking going into this match against a Nate Robideau that is… a lot different than the Nate Robideau you’ve seen in the past.

     

    Breedlove stares into the camera, pondering his response.

     

    Joshua Breedlove: I actually don’t have a problem with Nate Robideau. I don’t have an issue with the things he’s done, I don’t have an issue with the things he’s said. I’ve long since understood that to make it in this business, you have to be willing to stretch the limitations of what “professional wrestling” is. 

     

    Whether that means turning on your own father and infecting the SHOOT Project with Adrian Corazon…

     

    Or tricking Donovan King into accompanying you to your first match, only to kneecap him and put him out…

     

    Or what Paria is going to do to Jamie Johnson at Reckoning Day…

     

    Or utilizing all of your resources to do a long con against the World Tag Team champions…

     

    Sometimes, you have to make moves. Nate Robideau made his move by brutally assaulting a SHOOT Project Hall of Famer. OutKast is in the hospital still, there’s not a lot of info around him, and yet Nate Robideau stands here with the opportunity to fight for the SHOOT Project World Heavyweight Championship at Reckoning Day. 

     

    Breedlove let’s out a soft “heh” at his own statement.

     

    Joshua Breedlove: The show must go on, as they say. Am I worried about fighting Nate Robideau? Of course. Dude’s dangerous as fuck, I’m not going to pretend he’s not, and he has something that a lot of my previous opponents have lacked. 

     

    A full picture.

     

    Full vision, maybe.

     

    A full understanding of what Joshua Breedlove, forgive the third person, is. Because for as dangerous as Nate Robideau is, he recognizes that I’m just as dangerous. Just as much of a threat. There’s a reason that I continue to be able to stand here at the top, doing what I want, when I want. 

     

    The SHOOT Project, and by extension Nate Robideau, understands that when it comes to Joshua Breedlove versus the World? 

     

    I’m 100 feet tall. 

     

    And the rest of them? 

     

    Ants. 

     

    The crowd boos at the disrespect, but Breedlove continues.

     

    Joshua Breedlove: So when it comes to this match tonight? It’s really simple. About the most simple an encounter like this could be, really. It’s not about a blood feud, not about getting revenge, not about trying to put each other in the hospital… it’s about walking the path to reclaim the greatest prize in this business.

     

    It’s about #2, Nate Robideau taking on #1, Joshua Breedlove. Not personal, just business.

     

    Reckoning Day is on the line, Abby, and for me? 

     

    Heh.

     

    I’m going to show you and the rest of the world once again why Joshua Breedlove… the Emperor… stands at the top of this mountain.

     

    A smiling Joshua Breedlove is the last thing you see before heading back to the ring, a rabid crowd ready for the main event of the evening, a match to determine who faces Buck Dresden at Reckoning Day.

     

    Scott Kamura: You heard JBeezy, folks. It’s all on the line, NEXT.

    #1 Joshua Breedlove Vs. #2 Nate Robideau

    Business.

     

    After the bell, Nate pounces on Breedlove, snatching his injured arm again!  Josh attempts to fight it off, but is caught off guard, and can’t mount an effective defense when Nate flips him to his stomach by his wrist and drops to the mat, burying his entire weight onto his opponent’s back and digging his elbow into the downed man’s shoulder.  Breedlove smartly bends his elbow, trying to prevent his getting hyperextended, and begins crawling both men to the ropes!

    Dutch Harris: C’mon Joshie B, you’re smarter than this!  Ain’t no rope breaks in real life!

    Scott Kamura: Breedlove getting to the ropes, but I think it’s for leverage! 

    Josh gets to the ropes with his left arm, and uses them to drag both himself and Nate upward–and Robideau cuts him off by driving a backwards elbow strike RIGHT into the side of his neck!!  Breedlove collapses, his arms giving out, and Blackhawk locks in the Fujiwara and twists his body towards Breedlove’s spine, wrenching harder than he normally would!  The bell rings again, repeatedly, as Josh taps–then starts grasping at the ropes, kicking his legs, his body thrashing!  Nate twists…turns…pulls…and Breedlove’s ARM SNAPS!!  His scream can be heard over the boos and screams of the crowd, and Nate stands, looking positively serene!  Josh rolls to his side, clutching his arm, which is hanging limp and a bit askew, kicking his feet. 

    Scott Kamura: I’m no fan of Joshua Breedlove and I don’t judge people easily, but Nate Robideau is off the edge of the map! 

    Dutch Harris: He caught the man slipping, and you know me, I love Joshie B!  He is literally my best friend ever–but how do you not know that Nate was probably gonna give a receipt?!

    Nate calls for, and is provided a microphone, which he taps a couple of times before holding it to his face.  A new wave of boos wash over the ring, which causes him to pause, shrugging his shoulders and smiling. 

    Robideau: Yeah, I probably deserve that.  But I’m here, getting paid to fight, and you’re there, paying to watch it,  So I get to talk, and you get to…I don’t know, seethe?  Regardless, this isn’t me talking to you. 

    He turns to his fallen opponent, who has used his good arm to get seated against the corner.  And who is staring, clearly in pain, but unmitigated fury at Nate Robideau. 

    Robideau: This is me talking to Joshua Breedlove.  Aren’t you proud of me, man?  Remember what a loser I was?  Now I’m here.  Triumphant.  Successful.  Thriving.  And you…you’re where I’m used to be. 

    Breedlove begins jawing, trying to get to standing–when he falters, clasping his bad arm, Nate drops to a kneel, shaking his head.  He almost looks sad.  

    Robideau: Shh, shh, don’t try anything, man.  I felt your clavicle give, your scapula is probably fractured, and your rotator cuff is probably shredded.  You need rest.  Those types of injuries are dangerous.  And by the time you’re ready for it, my new facility will have physical therapy available.  No charge.  Because this, what I did to you?  This wasn’t personal.  I harbor you no ill will, and I mean that sincerely. 

    Nate stands up, walking a little closer to the downed Joshua Breedlove.  His sad expression curls into something aggressive and self-satisfied, a sneer that threatens to evolve into a grin.  He nods his head.  

    Robideau: This was just business shit.  ‘Number one versus number two’, right?

    With that, he drops the mic, letting a wail of feedback join the chorus of boos.  He holds his arms out as if he’s basking in adulation before rolling from the ring and beginning to walk up the ramp.  “Get Up!” begins to play, and as he reaches the top of the ramp, he makes a motion, a message.  He motions at his waist.  The message is clear.  “I want that belt.” 

    Black.