Millennium LXXVI

Everything comes into focus and as it does we are treated to the sight of Teddy Warren. He can’t help but smile as he is taken to the backstage area. His wife could be seen putting on a pair of vans. She moves her eyes to that of the cameras as her husband begins to speak.

Kate Steele:
What do you know, here we are again in Chicago and tonight my wife will once again take to the ring and do what she does best.

Teddy smiles as wide as possible as he glances at Kate.

Teddy Steele:
And what is that exactly?! It’s very simple… The fact is she will enter that ring and pick up another key and crucial win. Last time she was on the show she beat the snot out of Morag Bean and now here we are. Not only will she have to go through Morag again but this time she will have to face Atti as well. It seems like a lot will be on in this match but you can rest assure that my wife is not going to the ring to disappoint. She will not only pick up a win but she will do whatever possible to prove a point.

Kate is finally done with her shoelaces as she looks back at her husband with a disgusted expression on her face.

Kate Steele:
The fact of the matter is all of this is absolutely stupid. For those who have been paying attention and honestly I don’t know how many that actually is considering that no one ever seems to pay attention to me. The truth is I have been on a roll. I have beaten Morag and I have a win before that. I am sick and tired of people disrespecting me like I am not a big time star. I know for a fact that I deserve way better than curtain jerking for these shows. I deserve to be at the top. I deserve to be in line for something but yet every single fucking week I have to open the show like I am some bloody scrub.

Kate shakes her head in disgust as she continues to speak.

Kate Steele:
I deserve way more than what I am getting and if this company wants to put me in front of Morag again I will have no qualms in putting her down once again. You can give her Atti Valentine and truthfully it still won’t matter because when I am focused on something I handle everything that is thrown my way. I take opponents down and there isn’t anything that can stop me.

Kate points right at the camera.

Kate Steele:
Now this is a message for management. I deserve better. I am one of your longest tenured stars in this company. Do you know how insulting it is to have to fight and claw just to get on a bloody fucking show?! It’s as if you all have forgotten that at one point that I was the Lockdown Champion. You all forgot that Siren rules used to mean something for this division and I was taken down opponent after opponent but then something went wrong. What exactly went wrong?! Where was the narrative changed about me?!

Kate shrugs her shoulders.

Kate Steele:
Honestly I don’t really have a clue but what I do know is that I won’t be insulted. I won’t be looked down upon and I have experience enough of that during my time of being in this company and you all will take me seriously. So this week on another edition of this show I will prove to everybody that there is much more to me than what you all think. I will showcase that the things I say aren’t full of shit. I will prove to everybody that the Siren is still one of the most deadly stars in this company.

Kate grins as she speaks some more.

Kate Steele:
So I guess that brings me to this week. I have a tag team match in front of me but as far as I am concerned I really don’t give a bloody hell about what it is. The only thing I care about is going forward with my career and picking up the pieces. I will become great again. I will be amazing and there isn’t a damn thing that anybody in this company can do to stop me. Do you hear that music?! It’s the Siren’s Song and if you follow it to it’s conclusion it will leave you shipwrecked! See all of you soon!

With that Kate and Teddy walk away as we go to elsewhere.

Backstage, Melissa Reeves sets a camera into place for herself. Stepping back, she gives a smirk as she unfolds a chair.

Melissa Reeves
Well, well, well...what do we have here? I have a match I requested, facing Karen Eldon...

She takes a seat, feet up on another chair, title draped over her thighs.

Melissa Reeves
I know, not exactly top billing like I deserve, is it? But hear me out: it’s a match I requested for a very simple reason. It’s not because she got involved in my match a couple of weeks ago, trying to put her fragile ego above the spectacle of the competition.

Dismissively, she waves a finger.

Melissa Reeves
It’s simpler than that, it’s because she’s been allowed to walk around with her air of superiority and look down at any she comes across. She’s even tried it on me, which is hilarious. Darling, my resume would drown you, don’t even try.

And as she says that, she pats the title on her lap.

Melissa Reeves
For me it’s real simple, Karen. I’ve seen your sort before; mediocre talent, snobbish attitude, overinflated ego. But what bemuses me is that that’s usually a young person’s game and yet here you are closing in on 40, with what...one year of experience in your pocket, and you’re trying to talk down to a ten year veteran? You can’t be that dumb, right? Like, it has to be an act. Problem is, it just doesn’t work on someone as grizzled as I am. You’re not superior to me, the claim is laughable. You lack the experience, the skills, the reputation AND the history to compare yourself to me.

Reeves laughs.

Melissa Reeves
You’re out of your depth here, love. You’re coming into this thinking your mouth can carry you to success but all it’s done is sign you up for failure. You want to be a big bad bully around here but you’re just a coward, and I’ve made a career out of knocking cowards down a peg. I’ve done it to far more dangerous people than you and I’ll continue to do it after you inevitably flake out on your little venture into wrestling. But hey, at least I’ll make you famous first.

Mel stands again, lifting the camera with her.

Melissa Reeves
I know that’s a lot of words for you, doubt you have the attention to get this far. Probably busy eating a crayola or whatever it is you do, so how about a tl;dr version? Your defeat is inevitable, you should pray I don’t make it a humiliation.

The champion holds her title in view.

Melissa Reeves
Oh, and as for this belt?

She turns the camera to her own waist, referring to her attire rather than her championship.

Melissa Reeves
That’s staying wrapped around this toned body. But if you wanted a crack at this TITLE that you couldn’t even properly challenge for? If you want a shot at it, all you have to do is ask. Otherwise…

She pulls a gift card from her pocket, just as promised.

Melissa Reeves
It’s all about this little piece of plastic. See you out there.

She reaches forward and the feed cuts, moving onto the next segment.

Jimmy stands in the middle of the ring, pacing back and forth as he stares up at the titantron with an angry look on his face. It’s pretty clear that Micaela is not going to walk out, she's probably not even in the building. Jimmy leans on the ropes for a few more seconds, before slamming them and walking across the ring. He leans over towards one of the crew members and demands a microphone. He grabs it from the stage hand and walks to the middle of the ring.

Jimmy Scrivens:
Sorry folks, I know how badly you wanted to see me wrestle. Looks like, once again, it’s just not in the cards

He looks back up the ramp towards the stage where Micaela is supposed to walk out from. But still, nobody is coming.

Jimmy Scrivens:
I can’t say that I’m surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. Scared, that’s what they are. Micaela, she knows what would happen if she walked out here and got into this ring. She knows that she wouldn’t stand a chance. She doesn’t want anything to do with having to wrestle me. She’d rather sit on twitter and talk about all her boyfriends or all the sex she’s having. I mean to each their own, but come on. This is professional wrestling, not a dating show. Me? I’m here to wrestle. And this is the second straight week where I’m not going to get a match.

Jimmy shakes his head as he looks down for a moment, before looking back up at the entrance ramp.

Jimmy Scrivens:
I came here to wrestle. I chose Millenium because they have some of the best talent in the business. At least, that’s what I thought before I joined. Since then I’ve been pretty disappointed, if I’m being honest. I mean sure, there is talent here. Duke Andrews, Melissa Reeves, Devin Hearst, the lot. They are talented wrestlers for sure. But none of them can hold a candle to my pure wrestling talent. And last week proved that they know it too. I challenged anyone on the roster to step up and wrestle me. Not one person answered my call. That tells me all I need to know.

A smile creeps across Jimmy’s face as he holds his hand up and feigns confusion

Jimmy Scrivens:
But Jimmy! You’re just some brand new wrestler. Why would any top name want to stoop down to fight you? I know that’s what you’re all thinking. But here’s why. We’re wrestlers. Any true wrestler will tell you that they’ll fight anyone, anywhere. It doesn’t matter if they are a 20-year vet, or a rookie. You wrestle anyone and everyone. At least, that’s what I thought. That’s what I’d do. You could throw me against anyone in this entire business and I’d wrestle them without a second thought. But people here, nah. They know how good I am. They know damn well that if they stepped in this ring with me, they would lose. And they know exactly how bad it would look to lose to someone with as little experience as me. So they take the easy way out. They ignore me, they pretend like I don’t even matter to them. Or, if they are as weak-willed and scared as Micaela, they just don’t show up at all. Absolutely pathetic, all of them.

He shakes his head again with a look of disgust on his face. He suddenly points towards the stage, as if directing a message to everyone in the locker room.

Jimmy Scrivens:
It doesn’t matter though. I’ll see each and every one of them soon. I don’t care how many times the top names try to avoid me. How many times someone weasels their way out of a match with me. I’m a god damn All-American for a reason. I’ve been beating up on the best college and amateur wrestlers in the country for as long as I can remember. I’ve been on magazine covers, profiles on ESPN. It doesn’t matter what accomplishments anyone in this company has, I’m just a better wrestler than all of them. So eventually, they won’t be able to avoid me. Eventually they’ll have to step into this ring with me. And eventually, they’ll have to watch from their backs as my hand is raised after the match is over.

Jimmy grins at the thought, mimicking holding his arm to the sky in victory. He then turns serious quickly.

Jimmy Scrivens:
But I’m not going to sit around and wait for that to happen. That’s not who I am. So here’s the deal. Next week is Domino Effect. I’m not booked for a match. I sure as hell am not going to go three weeks without getting into this ring with someone. Last week I issued an open challenge backstage, and nobody responded. This week, I’m doing it standing in the middle of this ring. I’m challenging literally anybody on the Millennium roster, to a match at Domino Effect. One match, one-on-one, to showcase my talents. One chance for you to put up enough of a fight against me that people will respect your effort. One chance to prove to the Millennium fans that you aren’t afraid of me. So come on. There must be one brave soul back there willing to put it on the line for this. One wrestler who mistakenly thinks they stand a chance against me. Come on out, let's make this official.

He motions at the ramp, inviting anyone to come out and accept his challenge. He slowly paces the ring, waiting for a response. Nothing immediate is happening, so Jimmy sits down in the middle of the ring and crosses his legs.

Jimmy Scrivens:
Someone better get the hell out here because I’m not getting out of this ring until I have a match at Domino Effect.

Suddenly, “Chariots of Fire” start playing on the sound system and the lights point directly to the stage as the six foot four, two hundred and sixty five pound frame of “The Standout” Mitchell Price appears on top of the stage. He has his headgear on his left hand and on his right hand a microphone. Unlike Scrivens, Price is not dressed to compete; as a matter of fact he wasn’t even in the card so he’s just wearing a black t-shirt, some jeans and sneakers with the varsity jacket of his high school on top of it all.

Price points at Scrivens with his left hand as he brings the microphone close to his mouth and begins to talk.

Mitchell Price:
You sure know how to talk…

A light smirk shows for a moment on Price’s face as he continues.

Mitchell Price:
Yet, you exemplify what P.I.E stands for. Passion for this industry, as a fellow wrestler you know what it meant to be up every saturday to have matches until you were eliminated or you triumphed. Intelligence, as you know when to pick the microphone and voice your opinion searching for something more than just what was given to you… and Excellence; I don’t think I need to talk more about that one, because you already put it all together.

Price stops and looks at Scrivens, who has his arms on his back almost inviting Price to step into the ring; as he continues.

Mitchell Price:
That’s the kind of match ups I look for. I’ll tell you what, you want a match at Domino Effect, you got one. College standout against High School standout. The lord has blessed us with such talent that we must showcase it to the world and prove to them…

The standout stepped to his side, almost at a half turn and pointed to the back.

Mitchell Price:
That WE are actually the present they didn’t want to live in and the future they feared would come. It’s our time, my friend… let’s have a good one.

In the ring, Jimmy smiles and nods his head at Mitchell

Jimmy Scrivens:
Couldn’t have said it better myself...you’re on.

The two wrestlers grin as they stare each other down from ring to stage as we fade out.

Before the Star of the Night makes her entrance, she can be seen backstage having her makeup finished, her gloves tightened and her hair brushed. She banishes them, aside one of them who she points to someone off-camera and summon them to her. Luna's staff member does bring along who she requested, and Luna cuts to the chase. There's too many stalkers ON THE ROSTER, never mind fans crossing the line, and she needs some protection. She'd like to have someone watching her back and West certainly has the build to stop men, women, cyborgs even from getting to the Millennium Star who's going far. West has a think about it, but seems more interested once Luna quotes a handsome salary. Luna is then carefully reminded by one of Millennium's staff she's up, and she makes her way to the ring.

Peyton Holland: "No fireballs, no sledgehammers..."

Ambra Monroe: "Uh oh... Looks like you spoke too soon, Peyton."

Too busy celebrating the win with her partner, Luna didn't realize that Lucie was standing behind her with the sledgehammer that belonged to her adoptive mother. Melody was the first to notice and decided to skedaddle, leaving Luna alone to deal with Callaway. But she wasn't alone, West Long eventually accepted her offer and took the job. The Warwolf rushed to the ring and stood between Luna and Lucie, allowing the Star Of The Night to fleed. Callaway, not at all intimidated by the size difference, tried to strike with the weapon but Long dodged the blow and kicked her so hard that she lost the grip on it. He then annihilated her with the Point Blank (fireman's carry powerslam), leaving the former Chicago Way champion writhing in pain on the canvas. To add insult to injury, he grabbed the sledgehammer and walked away with it, reaching Luna who was waiting for him on the stage with a wide smile on her face. "Money well spent." She said, congratulating with her new bodyguard as the duo walked away.

Backstage we go to find Karen Eldon entering the building with a very vibrant gold dress along with a pair of white heels. Seeming to have gold on the mind today, Erika her daughter is walking alongside her carrying a bag full of her ring gear. Her head is only getting bigger after last week’s win, as she strolls through the backstage area.

Karen Eldon:
Another week, another chance to knock everyone down a peg. Clyde and I have been running through the tag division. But I can’t say getting an opportunity to face a singles champion isn’t fitting. I don’t see why I couldn’t have one belt on this shoulder and one belt on this shoulder. And when I beat this lousy excuse for a champion Melissa Reeves. There will be no doubt that singles gold is also in my future.

Having to listen to her mother as always Erika nods her head in agreement as they stroll the backstage area passing by several staff members.

Karen Eldon:
That will come but first this Sunday we get to take those belts off of Fabulous. God I hate those two. They are insufferable. But for as much as Summer boasted about Jessica being a loose cannon and an animal? She wasn’t so scary in that six man tag match. We’ll take their tag team belts. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even take Jessica’s husband after as well?

Karen has a laugh, Erika is forced to pretend it is funny. She goes to turn the corner and right around it is Jessica Lasiewicz with a fierce look in her eyes. Clearly having heard at least the last little bit of what Karen had to say. Karen’s eyes go wide as she on instinct tosses her purse at Jessica. With cat-like reflexes Jessica is able to catch the purse. It does however allow Karen to turn and make a run for it. However nor exactly speedy in the heels she has chosen. Jessica takes chase after her snapping as she knocks Erika down with a shoulder check along the way.

Karen Eldon:
Let’s be civil!

Karen screams this as she turns around another corner hoping to get away but Jessica has kicked off her heels allowing her to be even quicker, already much quicker than Karen to begin with. Catching Karen she jumps on her back bringing her to the ground. Karen rolls to her back and Jessica starts to throw punch after punch at her as Karen flails and screams for help. Eventually several security members rush around the corner and grab Jessica, it takes all three of them to do so. Jessica is dragged away kicking and screaming as the mother Eldon is reeling on the ground. Around the corner comes Summer Collins the other half of the Tag Team Champions, with a big smirk on her face. Karen has uprighted herself against the wall as Summer leans down to her level.

Summer Collins:
Told you, you wouldn’t like to see her when she’s unleashed.

Giving Karen a wink as she adjusts her title belt over her shoulder as she walks off leaving Karen with a busted up lip and an angry scowl. Fabulous sending her into her match with Melissa Reeves with a little parting shot.

There’s a clear look of concern on Elsa’s face as she looks at some papers scattered on her desk in front of her. The various x-rays attached to the documents are a dead giveaway, what she’s looking at is a medical report. The question is, who is it about?

It won’t take long to get an answer to that question, whoever that was about must be the same person who’s knocking at the door now. Elsa quickly gathers all the papers in their folder, takes a deep breath and stands up from her seat.

Elsa McCarthy:
Please, come in!

Lumbering into the picture after opening the door is Seth Iser and with the hair the way he is and the general scowl on his face he’s almost entering this like a cowboy entering a duel. The scowl remains as he’s walking as normally as he can, straightening his tie before towering over the woman. Though that part isn’t hard for him...he is six foot five.

Seth Iser:
...I take it you aren’t going to recommend me for a commentary position after last week.

It’s almost hard to tell if he’s saying that seriously or in a light joke with his tone as he takes his seat with his arms crossed. He’s peering his eyes at what Elsa has and he knows where the conversation is going to go and judging by his expression, he hasn’t seen this folder yet.

Elsa McCarthy:
That was… something, indeed. But it’s not the reason why I asked you to be here tonight, as chaotic as last week’s main event was, it was nothing too out of the ordinary for the Millennium standard.

She says trying to look confident despite the intimidating presence sitting in front of her. If not by Seth himself, she definitely was scared by what she had to tell the veteran.

Elsa McCarthy:
I just received the doctor’s report…

She hands the papers to Seth, so that he could see himself what she was struggling to say. He starts glancing through the files and his face doesn’t give away any tells at first as he’s skimming through.

Seth Iser:
Pinched nerve...says I have most of that hea---

He reads something else though and it interrupts his sentence. For a moment he just scowls at it before the reality of it all sets in for him.

Seth Iser:
Fuck.

That word is muttered just loud enough for Elsa to hear though it isn’t direct at her. He has gotten to the x-ray that Elsa was looking at earlier.There is that brief moment where anger goes through his eyes as he reads through the rest of the file after seeing the x-ray. Then he briefly goes through the other x-ray views as if to confirm what he just saw.

Seth Iser:
...Damn.

He again swears before he finally closes it back up and returns it back to Elsa’s desk. He then eyeballs the young general manager sternly but with the flash of anger he had gone.

Seth Iser:
Not cleared to wrestle and the doctors didn’t have the courage to tell me personally here? Too much of a risk to compete with the state the ankle is in they said. Not to mention the god damned ‘we’ll see’ cliche they spouted off.

He chews on that point for a moment and when he notices Elsa’s change in expression when Seth barked that out he shakes his head.

Seth Iser:
I’m not mad at the messenger; there is no reason to be alarmed. I just don’t like the fact that I’m told to shut it down in a rather roundabout manner especially with some of the things I want to do to those damned Sandstorm after the sloppy bullshit they’ve pulled the last couple of months.

Iser lets out a sigh from his chair as he’s shaking his head a little after learning this news as he’s muttering something.

Seth Iser:
Don’t think Devin and that disgrace to my home state Wilkow would be sloppy enough to try to jump me after the bullshit stunt he did to Tiffany about a year ago knowing the price he’d have to pay for it...King Henry the Sixth is too craven to try that...

The veteran then has that devious smirk that’s as cold as the other side of the pillow.

Seth Iser:
Not to mention watching King Henry the Sixth himself get powerbombed through the table so hard he bounced after he actually tried to do some dirty work.

It is then dismissed with a shake of the head and now his face has a different kind of anger. It isn’t of frustration but rather one looking to seek some revenge.

Seth Iser:
But as much fun as that was...I was hoping I could knock the hell out of them physically; it is long overdue considering he literally took out my family for no good damned reason.

Elsa McCarthy:
I know…

Elsa nods, struggling to find the words. She’s still visibly not really comfortable with the role of bearer of bad news, and Seth’s reaction, no matter how much calmer the veteran is now, definitely didn’t help.

Elsa McCarthy:
I know you wanted a piece of Sandstorm, I understand you wanted to give Hearst a taste of his own medicine after what he did to Kelsey, I know you wanted to put Dreadnought through the same treatment he gave Nina.

Reaching out for the folder Seth threw on the tables, she takes it back in her hands, glancing down at that last page, the one reporting the final verdict of the MWE doctor.

Elsa McCarthy:
But there’s no way around it. His word is final and…

She takes another deep breath, exhaling with a sigh.

Elsa McCarthy:
Between me and you? I think what happened at Coup De Grâce somehow affected the judgement. Clearing you for the Hell In A Cell might not have been the best judgement call, and it basically put you on the shelf for two months. Worsening the situation is a risk we cannot take..

The veteran shakes his head for a moment considering what was just said.

Seth Iser:
Fine. I will respect the decision even if I don’t like it. But I will hurt them. Perhaps where it hurts the most, even…

His voice trails off for a moment before he stands up from his chair. He then eyeballs the one can of sandstorm drink before palming it with his big old right hand.

Seth Iser:
And the day I’ll never have to see this god damn sandstorm drink again will make me far happier. It’s almost as bad as Chicago thinking their brand of pizza is an actual pizza. But since the business is concluded, I’ll be out the door then.

With that the veteran takes his leave as he starts to crush that can in that giant hand of his showcasing his displeasure.

The camera pans around a few hallways, and we can hear what sounds like something being hit over and over and over again. The camera comes into view of a much larger room, and in the middle of it is a large punching bag being assaulted by Big Nasty himself, Dustin Douglas. Dustin throws combo after combo with his fist, then drives his knees into the bag in a clinch. Finally a few hard slaps, with a combination of grace, speed, and strength liken onto if a petite ballerina decided to do steroids before her performance in Black Swan.

It would be cool to say that Dustin smashes this bag hard like Captain America did in the Avengers, but lets be honest, thats a fake movie, Cap has super powers, and while he is super strong and all, he can’t wrestle like Big Nasty can.

Dustin finishes with his patented Spinning Back Fist which looks to a deeper fold in the bag as big as the fat roll on Duke Andrew’s prom date, the one that totally friend zoned him after he unsuccessfully made a move on her while “Killing me Softly” was playing under the crate paper and balloons. God I love music from the 90’s*

Dustin Douglas:
You feel that? Damn….can you taste it? It's in the air….sniff it. Smell it. Savor it. Let me tell you what that flavor is. No, its not the crappy excuse for nachos this arena has, I mean c'mon, it's not even real cheese and it's bagged tortilla chips… Have some standards people.

No…that thing you feel, that aroma you smell, that buzz you hear….thats the presence of a future demi-god taking his place among the immortals. Big Nasty here has been climbing the mountain, and I have passed the foothills of Olympus, I have suplexed and punched and clawed my way past the trees that litter that countryside…and the clouds are within my reach. Within my grasp.

I have felt this before….but it was taken from me.

Its amazing to think that in my short career, and lets be honest, I have accomplished more in the last year than most morons in this business accomplish in their lifetime, but its amazing to think that my short career was almost ended because someone decided to cheap shot me and put me on the shelf for 11 months. And the people cheered….

Then I got my revenge, I took that fat ugly piece of garbage in his fat ugly mask and ruined him. I ruined him! The Thunder is no more, and once again Ive done what no one else could in the short amount of time Ive been here. And the people cheered…..

And tonight, I take one more step….I face Matt Stone. I beat Matt Stone. I forget Matt Stone. This is not a spoiler warning, this is an inevitability. There are few things that are certain in life. Death, taxes, Alan Envy wearing pants that are way to snug…pro tip Al, I know its all “Fashionable” to wear that style pf pants, but no one and I mean no one wants to see your ass crack like we have.

But the next certainty, the thing that everyone needs to be aware of happening, and it will happen…is that The Murder Train has a destination set for the MWE Championship…and this train aint never gonna stop. As I laid in rehab for months, all I could do is think and feel. I could barely move. And all I could focus on is revenge, and restitution.

I have gotten my revenge…and now its time to get paid. That title is so close, and all I have to do is do what I do better than anyone wrestling….all while the people cheer.

Dustin takes a bottle of water and takes a big swig before dumping the rest over his head and walking out the door.

The scene opens with BROOKFORD in the hallway, leaning up against a wall backstage. To his right is a blue door. Whether that is the door to an office or the locker room is unknown. With his arms folded into his chest, BROOKFORD begins to speak.

BROOKFORD:
Duke... I smiled. I saw you tweeted sorry for doing what you feel is necessary... heh. If you knew what I knew, sorry is the last emotion you would feel.

BROOKFORD shrugs.

BROOKFORD:
You don’t get it. I have no idea why this match was scheduled. Normally, I wouldn’t question such a thing. I’m here for the paycheck. And to whoop some SANDSTORM ass after they robbed me of a chance to get my hands on Hearst. We have a common enemy, which is why I question why this match is even happening. This places you and me in the same space. Who do you think is going to show up to ruin our fight especially after what happened last week on this very program.

BROOKFORD cracks his knuckles.

BROOKFORD:
I don’t mind it. SANDSTORM wants to invade, fine. Just saying, Elsa made a mistake; setting the both of us up for a SANDSTORM ambush. I am willing to set our business aside, how about this, instead of making it easier for them to get the jump on us, how about we think with our heads, wait it out. Hey, if you are still intent on being sorry for what you need to do, fine by me, I’ll humor you. You’ll wish you had listened to me.

BROOKFORD walks off as the scene fades.

It’s not longer after her meeting with Seth that Elsa receives another visitor in her office. Sitting in front of her this time is Riot’s General Manager and former agent for Iser himself, Vincent Moretti. The grizzled veteran and his situation seem to be the argument of their chat.

Elsa McCarthy:
… So that’s it. To say that he didn’t take it well is an understatement, but my office is still intact.. I consider that a win.

She says with a nervous smile, concluding her tale of the meeting. Vincent actually lets out a light laugh.

Vincent Moretti:
Honestly I think he took that news well all things considered. That did also explain the stain out there. Let’s hope the Dalek doesn’t absorb that as well...

After that Vincent just groans as he palms the cane on his chair for a second while he’s also holding a folded piece of paper in the other hand.

Vincent Moretti:
But I think we have a decision to be made here soon. Especially considering a certain welsh woman. It might seem fairly last minute but...there is a little bit of news on the front. This was faxed to my office this morning and with how busy you are with the show...I don’t know if you got your copy or not.

There’s a calmness to Moretti as he hands Elsa the news he knows on a piece of paper that was indeed faxed to him. Elsa takes the document in her hand and, after a quick glance, nods her head.

Elsa McCarthy:
Yes, I received it as well. I wouldn’t call her win against Black last Sunday an upset, we know she’s a world class athlete.. But it was still a shock to see her pinning the champion like that, it’s undeniable that it made a huge impact on your title picture.

Vincent Moretti:
Not to mention Pierce completing his duty as a TV champion. He really did drop the title off in my office and made his declaration known the first moment he could.

Vincent’s tone is calm as he mentions that as he rubs his temple.

Vincent Moretti:
I’d rather make these tough decisions than trying to discipline someone y’know. But it seems we need to figure out something that’s fair to all parties here. The people in the Riot title picture, Lowri herself, and to both our brands.

Elsa nods at Moretti, agreeing with his words.

Elsa McCarthy:
The fact that she sent those papers to both of us is a clear signal that she’s interested in continuing the negotiation.. Of course, the ultimate decision will be up to her, but we must keep under consideration what she accomplished in her matches on both brands.

The young general manager pauses for a moment before continuing.

Elsa McCarthy:
She pinned the Riot champion and the Cloud Gate champion, although in this case it ended up being a double pin… I believe no arguments can be made that she earned a shot at said titles.

Vincent rubs his temple for a moment as he chews that over.

Vincent Moretti:
She has. I’m not exactly the biggest fan of triple threats on my end but it isn’t always the best case if certain people have to wrestle twice on a show either. Though it seems unavoidable in some cases...but I take it you’re offering her a singles match with the one person she hasn’t been able to get her hand raised on with the gold on the line, yeah?

He inquires as he asks that.

Elsa McCarthy:
You’d be correct. She can count on two draws against Melissa, but no wins. I’ll offer her another chance to chase her white whale, to overcome the one obstacle she has never been able to overcome, and do it when the stakes are the highest.

A slight smile appears on her cherry lips.

Elsa McCarthy:
And I think I have found the perfect stipulation for it too. We can say it’s quite the trademark when it comes to Cloud Gate championship matches... No weapons, no shenanigans. Just two of the best to ever grace the ring fighting for the green brand’s greatest prize in a Two Out Of Three falls match.

There’s a nod from the elder counterpart.

Vincent Moretti:
Old school. And the warrior’s pride to boot.

As Vincent confirms that he leans back on his chair as he considers everything.

Vincent Moretti:
I think I have something that’s fair for all parties if Lowri’s inclined on this one. I don’t like the randomness that can happen in a triple threat. It does favor the clever sure...but it doesn’t always set well with me that the champion can lose the title without being pinned. Or that you lose without being pinned or submitted. So I have to dig a little deeper for an old school interpretation to something far more common in modern wrestling.

The slight smile starts to now take it’s form on Moretti’s face as he considers this.

Vincent Moretti
Henri, Pierce, and Lowri. You can call it a Three Way Dance. You can call it the old school triangle. However you want to call it, one pinfall or submission doesn’t end the match. Don’t have to worry about breaking up any pinfalls or submissions. Just have to worry about your own self. That’s the best way I can handle all parties involved so it’s fair enough for each of them. Your claim is only eliminated when you’re beaten. Plus without those limitations with how creative all three of them can get for this opportunity I kind of want to see what they call come up with. Just...I’m once again going to ban interference from said match. But that’s my solution and my match.

Elsa listens carefully to her fellow General Manager, almost fascinated by the deep reasoning behind his every decision, something she always admired in him.

Elsa McCarthy:
Good call, I’m sure she’ll be definitely intrigued by this opportunity. Shall we call her now? She’s probably watching the show, but perhaps we can get our answer even tonight.

Before hearing his answer, she moves her hand toward the phone on her desk.

Vincent Moretti:
Alright, I’ll make the phone call.

And after he states that he finds the cameraman that is filming all of this behind him and rather than be all hostile, he just gives him a nod.

Vincent Moretti:
Hey, I know you want to peep into a phone call but with due respect to Lowri here I think a small level of privacy would be nice. Elsa can listen in because fair is fair, but...you’re dismissed.

Vincent calmly shoos off the camera man who then starts to walk away as Vincent is dialing the number.

Backstage we see Matt Stone coming out of his dressing room, the camera in his face so of course he takes the chance to speak to it.

Matt Stone:
Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re all dying to know what I think about the goings on of last week, but frankly last week doesn’t mean anything to me. They forced me to work with someone I’ve already had a run in with here and then seem shocked when he’s not able to uphold his end of the bargain. I’m not that surprised, I’ll put it that way, but tonight is a return to form as it were with the continuation of the Sandstorm tournament. Now the top names of Sandstorm seem to have disappeared off the face of the planet as of late but that doesn’t mean that I’m not still going to go out there and give it my all to win this thing. Douglas has all but written me off already and I’m sure the fans have as well, but that’s the position I want them to take. I wanted a title last year and I failed to earn the chance at one. That’s on me, regardless of how bad the refereeing has been since I signed up! No excuses tonight though, I’m one win away from the finals, one win away from my first real meaningful match here in Millennium and I’m going to get it. No more random tag matches for me or slapped together undercard bookings, this is my chance to cement myself at the very top of the card, the top of the company even with this win and I’ll be damned if someone like Dustin Douglas is going to stop me. I’ve been singing my own praises since I stepped foot in this company and it’s about time the rest of you start doing so as well. This tournament is about to be mine and then there’ll be no way any of you can SHUT ME UP!

With that, Stone forces his way passed the camera and heads down the hallway.

Taking a page from his friend Neil Newman’s playbook, Kyle Butler can be seen sitting on a wooden stool in the backstage area where interviews are held. He is wearing his Alabama Crimson Tide themed hoodie. He waves to the camera with a cheeky smile.

Kyle Butler:
I’ve been in main events before. BUT I don’t remember the last time I competed in the main event as a singles competitor. Have I?

Kyle scratches his chin.

Kyle Butler:
The fact I need to wonder if this is my first singles main event match touches at the heartstrings, just a little. I’m grateful to be here. No matter what happens tonight against Tank, this is an experience I am going to savor. Don’t mistake me saying any of this as me only being happy to be here, I am; clearly, this doesn’t lessen my desire to do what needs to be done. I didn’t make it this far to turn back now. I would hate to feel that overcoming my best friend in life to make it this far was in vain, I desperately want to be the one to take the title off Hearst. He is not the representative this company needs. Look at the impact his cronies have had on this tournament already. Costing BROOKFORD and Envy a fair chance to win. It’s despicable. Not denying there is a business element to the sport. The sport comes first, always. That’s what I believe. That’s what drives me. My passion for the sport no matter my setbacks is what inspires me to keep going when times aren’t peachy.

Tank, you’re a hoss; last week you got one over on me. I don’t have that idiot Matt Stone to hold me back. Just you and me. Nothing personal man, I need this. I have needed an opportunity like this tournament my entire life. You may be bigger, stronger; deadlier. I will always believe I am the better wrestler walking into every match I step into. I believe in my training. I believe my journey is for a reason. All the setbacks I ran into I needed to overcome to make me stronger. We’ll see if you’re bad enough to crush my hopes. I don’t plan on it, hoss, I am going to ROLL TIDE over that ass. See you out there.

Kyle storms away as the scene fades to black.