Millennium XXVIII: Viva La Revolucion Tour -Guadalajara

The camera cuts inside the General Manager’s office. Gian looks, unsurprisingly, swamped with work, caught in a spiral of phone calls, paperworks and charts he keeps checking on different tabs on his computer screen. But he’s not alone tonight. His girlfriend Tobie Nox Thorne is sitting on the small couch not too far away from his desk, keeping him company in what seems to be a particularly busy night for the italian General Manager. Finally ending the call and putting down his phone, Gian leans back on the chair and raises his eyes letting out a long sigh. Then his eyes meet Tobie’s, and a slight smile appears on his tired face.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
I’m sorry, this must be so boring for you…

Tobie glances up from the monitor shed half watching the show on and smiles sweetly at Gian.

Tobie Nox Thorne:
There is nowhere else I would rather be right now.

Deciding to take a moment off whatever he was doing, Gian stands up from his chair and goes to sit next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
You’re afraid Aella or someone else from Riot decides to attack me again?

He says, half joking half serious. She immediately looks a little more serious, turning to face him and gently tracing her fingertips along his jawline with a sigh.

Tobie Nox Thorne:
I’m just not taking any chances. It is abundantly obvious that there is no line they will not cross, so should they decide to come here with misdeeds on their mind…

Tobie reaches back behind the couch and produces a baseball bat, flashing him a bright smile before putting it back where she took it from.

Tobie Nox Thorne:
I will be ready for them.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Well… Now I really feel safe.

Chuckling lightly, Gian pulls her closer so that she’s now leaning on his shoulder, and places a soft kiss on top of her head. After this show of affection, his expression turns serious once again.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
You know… The more I look at this situation, the more I’m convinced that there’s only one way to solve it…

Whatever this solution is, Gian doesn’t seem particularly happy with it. Tobie accepts the pull to lean into him and the kiss to her head with a comfortable smile.

Tobie Nox Thorne:
I am not sure I like the tone to your voice… what are you thinking?

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
They won’t stop, Tobie. Constantine won’t stop. This whole thing just keeps escalating week after week.. If it’s a fight they all want, we might as well give them one.

A small pause.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Since they’re so eager to prove which brand is the superior one, why don’t give them a chance to prove it inside the ring? The best of Riot, against the best of Millennium.

Tobie lifts her head just a little and smiles, meeting his eyes with her own as she nods.

Tobie Nox Thorne:
I hope you have room for me on that team.

She’s clearly teasing, knowing she has a spot without even having to ask but she pokes her tongue out at him all the same.

Tobie Nox Thorne:
Like I told them before… They asked for this, now they’re going to get their wish.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
I said I want the best Millennium has to offer…

For what seems like an eternity, he stares at her in silence

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Of course you’re on my team.

Smiling at his girlfriend, Gian stands up from his seat and starts pacing the room.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
I need people who can get the job done. The Riot roster isn’t as big as ours, Yulia’s choices will be limited. And I know how she thinks, I can already tell who she’s going to pick. I didn't want this, I tried to avoid it... But they didn't listen.

It's time for us to quell the riots.

Tobie stands up and walks to Gian, wrapping her arms around him. The scene cuts to the next segment.

“Six Days of Silence” by Cripple Mr Onion begins to play as the Plaza Nuevo Progreso crowd makes their displeasure known. Together, The Misery and The Manic make their way out to the ramp, both sporting sombrero’s. Their actions fail to match the tune of their theme, as they happily strut around, laughing and having a good time. They stop at the end of the ramp, and both extend their arms as if presenting something. “Dominique” by The Singing Nun takes over the former music, and out comes the absolute behemoth that is Pinhead. The audience falls silent as the modern day Goliath slowly walks down the ramp, eventually catching up with his cohorts. The oddly, yet believable mixed trio all climb into the ring. The Misery gets his hand on a microphone, then he and The Manic take centre stage as Pinhead stands silently behind them.

The Misery:
Andale, andale!

The Misery and The Manic each throw their sombrero’s through the air like frisbees, both flying into the crowd.

The Misery:
That’s right, Mehico. Marvel in our excellence! We know it’s not everyday this country sees such beautiful people as us, but don’t fret, because that day has come!

The boos get even louder. The Misery looks around, his body language screaming in shock.

The Misery:
We come here, bless you with our presence, and THIS is the thanks we get?! Hell, we even wore those ridiculous hats you all like so much! And for what?! To be disrespected?! We crossed the border, traveled here all the way from the greener pastures of the USA, and were even forced to endure the hell that is Canada before arriving here, yet you ungrateful people fail to respect us for that! You know what? The Misery bets the majority of you were deported at one point or another, and that’s why you’re so sour!

The crowd begins chanting, “¡Que te jodan miseria!”, over and over again.

The Misery:
No comprende! You hear that?! The Misery doesn’t understand what you’re saying and better yet, he doesn’t care! Because tonight’s about celebration. It’s about the end of a war, and a new beginning. As you all know, we beat our enemies at The Great White North. No, we conquered them. It was absolutely gorgeous. Not a single person in a single household around the globe did not shed a tear for the valiant victory of The Misery and The Manic. You could compare our story to Saving Private Ryan, Dunkirk or even Hacksaw Ridge! Now, The Misery hasn’t actually seen those latter two movies, but a war story is a war story and ours is up there with the best of them! We even have our very own Bomber!

The Misery gestures to Pinhead.

The Misery:
Anything you wanna say, big guy?

The Misery extends the microphone to Pinhead, who towers even The Misery, a man who stands at an impressive 6’4.

Pinhead:
Dominique-nique-nique…

The Misery:
We still don’t know what he means by that… but no matter! Because he’s with us! And although he’s going to be slaying everybody over on Riot, he’ll continue to be our associate. And while he’s proving himself as the most destructive force on the Riot roster, The Misery and The Manic will be doing the same here… see, after our video package last week, we kept getting people coming up to us in the streets asking if The Manic was pregnant. According to them, The Misery placing his hand on her stomach had some sort of hidden meaning. And they’re not wrong, but we can say for certain that The Manic is definitely not pregnant. If you watch the clip properly, you’ll see that The Misery placed his hand on her waist.

Almost to prove The Misery’s point, a picture pops up on the titantron of the shot he’s talking about. The Misery points at it and nods.

The Misery:
See? Anyway, as we said in that clip last week, we have a grand announcement… we’ve come to the conclusion that we are the greatest team that MWE has to offer. We’re the best of the best. And what better way to prove that, than to beat The Happy Few for the Tag Team Champion-

The Misery’s interrupted as “Anklebiters” by Paramore starts to play. Cheesecake comes out riding along on Big Barv’s back, and the crowd immediately begins cheering. Cheesecake jumps off of Barv’s back, revealing a microphone in her hand. Her theme song fades out as she lifts the mic to her lips.

Cheesecake:
Whoa, don’t go gettin’ ahead of yaself there, boy! Look! Ya already borin' the great fans of Guadalajara to sleep! Why ya gotta be so socially awkward?

The Misery:
What do you want, Ophelia? The Misery already told you on Twitter, we’re done. We won the war. You’re just making yourself look desperate.

Cheesecake:
Says the guy who spent the last few months searchin’ high an' low for my BFF over here! The way I see it, we got one point each. And ya know what that means, don'tcha? We gotta have a rubber match! So here's what I'm proposin'... how ‘bout we have ourselves a lil 6 Person Tag? The three of ya against the three of us?

The Misery:
The Misery already knows you’re quite thick, Ophelia… but even you must be able to tell that there’s only two of you down there. And besides, even if you were to somehow find a third member of your little dessert oriented gang, what are you going to be able to do to us? We have a Pinhead.

Cheesecake:
So? We got a Barv. Oh and…

Cheesecake leans forward and winks.

Cheesecake:
An' we also got a… HARDCORE HERO!

The Misery laughs.

The Misery:
Lying is a sin, Ophelia. The Misery told you on Twitter, there’s no possible way you could have made contact with Heath Will-

As if on cue, “Little Pills” by Devilskin sends the arena into a frenzy, and The Hardcore Hero, Heath Williams emerges from behind the curtain. He spins around and soaks in the standing ovation he receives from the audience.

Jared Idol:
HE’S HERE LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! HEATH WILLIAMS HAS COME TO MWE!

Bea Torres:
Four time World Champ! Former President of FBW! Two time High King Lord of the Pranks! Six time Tag Team Champion, five of those reigns with Big Barv! And the list goes on, Jared!

Jared Idol:
There’s no doubt MWE has landed on something big with this new signee!

The Misery appears to be taken aback by this arrival, and The Manic stares at him in confusion. Together, Cheesecake, Barv and Heath strut down the isle and slide into the ring. Pinhead stands in front of The Misery and The Manic like a guard dog.

Cheesecake stands between Barv and Williams with a beaming grin as she smugly watches the three in the ring.

Cheesecake:
The Requiem, back together again… oh, I'm a sucker for a good reunion! Talk to 'em, Heath!

With that, she hands the mic over to Williams.

Heath Williams:
It’s been a long time comin’, hasn’t it everybody? After three years of working in a crappy office job, The Hardcore Hero has returned to where he fares best.

Heath turns his attention to The Misery, who has himself propped up against the ropes, ready to make an exit the second he needs to.

Heath Williams:
Which brings me to you, you slimy little f**ker. After I got the call from Cheesecake last week, I decided to do my research. I’ve gone back and watched all of your promos Misery, watched all of your matches, gone through just about every single one of your retarded little tweets and I gotta say… I feel like you’re tryna impersonate me. Looking for Barv over here, the moveset, f**k you even stole the theme music I had for a while back in 2011. I dunno who the hell you are man, but you ain’t Heath Williams. So do us a favor, take that stupid mask off and show your face.

The Misery:
I-I-Imposter! IMPOSTER! YOU ARE AN IMPOSTER!

Cheesecake takes the mic from Heath.

Cheesecake:
Really, dude? Ya wanna play that game? The proof is in the puddin', aight? We got Heathy boy right here, the real Heathy boy. As much as ya wanna be… ya ain’t him. You ain’t him! So, in my opinion… you two oughta duke it out right here in this ring next week! In a… mask vs. hair match?

Heath shrugs and nods, confirming his approval of the match.

The Misery:
PINHEAD! GET THEM!

Heath takes the mic back from Cheesecake and looks up at Pinhead.

Heath Williams:
Almost forgot you were there, big fella. So, we meet again, huh? Gotta tell ya, I’ve done it all in this biz… ‘cept beat the snot out of you. First time for everything though, I guess.

In a flash, Heath drops the microphone and hits Pinhead in the jaw with a stern right hand. Cheesecake goes for The Misery, who flees out of the ring, taking The Manic by the hand and dragging her along with him. Cheesecake makes chase, as Heath continues to duke it out with Pinhead. The Misery and The Manic run around the ring, Cheesecake in tow. Pinhead grabs Heath by the throat, and lifts him into the air, a second away from a Chokeslam, until Barv charges forward with a battering ram that knocks Pinhead back a few steps. Heath and Barv look at each other, as the crowd cheers them on, reminiscent of their years together as a team. Heath smiles, then nods, and the two attempt a double-clothesline to Pinhead, but are instead launched into the air and over the ropes.

It’s perfect timing however, as they land right in the pathway of The Misery and The Manic. Cheesecake catches up, and nails The Manic with a superkick. Heath and Barv try to grab The Misery, but he slips underneath their arms and sprints over to the barrier. He jumps over, and escapes into the crowd as Heath and Barv chase after him. Pinhead leans over the ropes, grasps Cheesecake by the scuff of her scalp and lifts her up off her feet. Barv notices this, grabs Heath’s forearm, who turns, sees what’s going on and nods. Together the team formerly known as The Requiem turn back to the ring, and Barv grabs his BFF by the legs. He and Pinhead play tug of war for moment, before Heath fishes underneath the ring. He pulls out none other than the Warhammer!

Jared Idol:
That’s the Warhammer, Bea! The weapon Cera gave to Heath before she passed away!

Heath slides into the ring, raises the Warhammer in the air. Pinhead turns and let’s go of Cheesecake, just in time to be nailed in the stomach with the hammer. Pinhead is forced to take a knee, and Heath goes to hit him again, this time across the back of the head, but Pinhead raises an arm and catches the Warhammer by the handle, the shards of glass sticking out of the metal a mere few centimeters away from his face. Heath tears the Warhammer from Pinhead’s grip and exits the ring, regrouping with Big Barv and Cheesecake, who are now making their way up the ramp, Barv holding Cheesecake in his arms as she holds the back of her head wincing. Pinhead stands up and stares at them as Devilskin’s “Little Pills” plays again to another huge pop from the audience.

We don’t see anything. At all. Nothing but darkness not only fills the screen, but the arena as every light (barring a few security ones obviously) are shut off. We hear humming, soft, eerie, without a doubt it’s Saki. Her words come sing-song as we get a faint flicker of light from down what looks like a hallway, we hear metal scraping against something as it continues.

SAKI:
Lessons of spite, always twisted
Selfies and photos, intermixed in
Sitting on the floor, I realized
Revenge of a child, on the mind

We see a flicker of a broken light up ahead and Saki steps under it, steel chair in her hand, dragging along the floor.

SAKI:
You act like you’re not like me
But here you are, for all to see
You don’t want part of this song
But again your actions prove that wrong

She giggles a little before slamming the chair into the wall so hard it bends, strong for such a small girl.

SAKI:
You came to me, from behind
You and I are two of a kind
From the shadows with a chair
Now into your soul my eyes now stare
Careful now Britty, do beware
I am the burden, you must bare

Finally the SIngapore born wrestler turns to the camera, make-up smeared, two-toned eyes now full black. She smiles and the lights shut off to an ear piercing scream. And a few moments later, all the lights are back on, and on the screens we see the hall, a dented chair remaining on the floor, Saki nowhere in sight.

The feed within Guadalajara’s very own Plaza Nuevo Progreso swiftly shifted to the backstage area to reveal former multi-time wrestling champion and Texas native, Spider, strutting through the hallways which lead to the women’s dressing room.

Interestingly, this time around, Spider was seen walking without her wife by her side. It was widely known that the former competitor, Liz Jones, had been helping the Spider with her adjustment to a world in which the former kleptomaniac would need to utilize an asset that has long-been daunting to the former double champion: her voice...

Spider:
Ugh…

The ex-double champion muttered to herself in addition to the Millennium fanbase sitting at home…

Spider, presently debating how to take her career to the next level, grabbed the doorknob of the ladies’ locker-room with her right hand. Pressing her forehead against the door, she would sigh once more before giving the door a twist.


The Texas native entered the dressing room. Afterwards, she wasted no time in rushing towards a big mirror that was positioned a few feet away from a modest-sized television placed to entertain the talent before matches. Spider, her head still down, looked upwards towards the mirror only to find….


Spider quickly did a 180, and looked towards the familiar voice. The former double champion looked towards the woman’s bright purple leather jacket, matching leggings, and most of all...oddly colored purple dyed hair that would only be prevalent in the life of Hampshire County, Massachusetts native…Zelda Gibbons.

Zelda Gibbons:
You’re lookin’ you finally got to use that makeshift Canadian passport we made, Robbie! It’s been a good while since we’ve both been in the same locker-room together, huh?

Spider’s eyes remained widened in disbelief.

Zelda Gibbons:
I really need to tell you one thing-

Before Zelda could finish her sentence, Spider would rush in, pulling the former Lockdown Champion in for a tight hug.

Zelda Gibbons:
Hey...Hey...I’ve missed you too. Blood or not, you are my sister. Trust me, I know me being here is a surprise. But, I’m not really here in Mexico tonight to promote myself or anything close to that.

Spider:
It’s a huge surprise! What are you doing in Mexico? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

She seemed genuinely excited to see her friend at the Millennium show.

Zelda Gibbons:
Well, this may sound just a LIL bit crazy. But…

Gibbons reached towards a table to the side...revealing a familiar pink paddle which was fit with a nifty little United Kingdom flag.

Zelda Gibbons:
Astyn told me you were going through some trouble here!

The feed zoomed into the allegedly ‘animate’ paddle.

Zelda Gibbons:
So, I felt like you needed something to brighten your week. After all, you always used to pop up on me whenever I needed someone. You’ve gotta tell me what’s been going on around this place since you’ve come back to wrestling.

Spider:
Jack shit.

She snorted. There were so many things she wanted to say, about wrestling, about Millennium, about her life, the way it all fit together and clashed… but all she managed to do was shrug. She stole a glance at Zelda.

Spider:
I do appreciate you being here, though. It means a lot… you’re right, it’s exactly what I needed.

Her lips turn up, just slightly, in a tiny smile. Spider takes a seat on the bench.

Spider:
Just been busy, with the kid coming and Liz and I both working again. She was going to come tonight, but… yeah. It’s just complicated.

Judging by Zelda’s worried glance, she could tell that there was a lot on her good friend’s mind. Internally, Gibbons believed that there was a lot that Spider wanted to say. Yet, she simply couldn’t let the words slip through her lips.

Afterall, the former double-champion just began to become comfortable speaking on a national platform...

Zelda Gibbons:
I totally get it, Robbie. Listen, wrestling has this weird habit of changing all the dang time. The climate in the business is so different from the CWC days when you, Ella, and I first met…

Gibbons stated.

Zelda Gibbons:
I think that readjusting to everything is hard in of itself. Building yourself back up to where you were before? Even harder. And it seems like there are people who definitely DON’T want you to reach those heights again. People think you’re just gonna waltz on right back out of that door.

Zelda pointed towards the exit as Spider turned her head.

Zelda Gibbons:
But you know what?

Spider looked down to the ground briefly showing a brief lack in confidence. Zelda reached forward, placing her hand under the chin of her sister-figure. Afterwards, she moved Spider’s face upwards.

Zelda Gibbons:
Fuck ‘em.

Gibbons added.

Zelda Gibbons:
Fuck every last one of ‘em. The business might’ve changed. But, you’re still YOU. People all over the world still look up to you as someone who made it out of piss poor circumstances in order to make a life for yourself! Kids go through life everyday being beat up because they’re different...Yet, they still have hope because a super talented weirdo just like them made it to the highest levels of wrestling. I don’t ever want to see you looking down and forgetting what you bring to the table. Do you hear me?!

The former Lockdown Champion said in a firm tone as she maintained eye contact with her friend.

Zelda Gibbons:
You’re STILL the Spider.

Spider:
Am I?

Spider let out an exasperated sigh, a somewhat defeated look coming to her face.

Spider:
Wasn’t that long ago I could walk in anywhere I wanted and people knew they were in for the fight of their life. Fuck, I had a lot ahead of me. I was gonna be someone. Am I really still the Spider, though? Or am I just fuckin’... Robyn Jones, masquerading as someone else?

She sneered, almost at herself rather than Zelda, as though disgusted at the thought.

Spider:
Lost to Becky. Lost to Tiffany… shit, the last two big matches I had, couldn’t get it done. Fuck dude, I ain’t even sure I’m gonna get it done tonight. And I ain’t ever been good at this talking stuff. But here I am now. Doing all the shit I never used to.

Another long sigh escaped her.

Spider:
Dunno, maybe I need to get back to basics. Just do…. You know, the Spider thing. No talking. None of this promotional bullshit. Just going in and beating the hell outta someone, clawing my way back to the top, you know? No words, just action. I was good at that.

Zelda Gibbons:
That’s what they want ya to think, Robbie.

Prior to continuing, Zelda placed a hand on Spider’s shoulder.

Zelda Gibbons:
They wanna keep you in a closed box. They want you to believe that you only fit one category. In a world where there’s so soooooo many mind bogglingly boring wrestlers, they hate to see that someone has the balls to show off a personality that makes them unique. People would prefer you keep quiet because the second you realize how much power your words have....their spot on top is gone. Poof! Donezo!

After another pause, Zelda shook her head.

Zelda Gibbons:
If you just regress into what you were, they win! Like I said, you’ve been through MUCH worse than a lil rut here, a lil loss there.... Haven’t you? Use the setbacks as motivation to carve out the next chapter of that beautiful career of yours, cutie.

Spider was silent for a moment. She stared at her feet, avoiding Zelda’s eyes until she finally nodded.

Spider:
Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m going at it the wrong way. Need to… I dunno, just do shit my way. Trust my gut.

She paused.

Spider:
Can usually trust that.

Spider looked to her friend.

Spider: Thanks, Z. Guess I needed that.

Zelda nodded her head. The tow reunited friends start walking down the hallway as the scene fades.

The feed switches to the backstage area, where the camera crew walk up on "The American Monster" Jacob Hammerstein sitting in a chair, his back to them. His head is bowed, and his eyes are closed, almost as if he's asleep. As the crew slowly eases towards him, he speaks.

Hammerstein:
I know what you're thinkin. After all the talk. After all the boasts, and all the bravado, Hammerstein loses the Last Person Standing match to Bethany fuckin Driver.

How does that happen?

Sometimes, it just happens.

That's not to take away from what she did. She put me down for a ten count, and to be honest, the ref coulda counted to twenty. I wasn't goin anydamnwhere. So, congratulations, Bethany. Ya earned the win, and, whether this means anything to ya or not, ya earned my respect.

Hammerstein sighs, then chuckles softly.

Hammerstein:
That's more than I can say for Chris Constantine, Junior.

Ya remember that movie A Christmas Story? The one with Ralphie and the Red Ryder BB Gun? Yeah, I know it's the wrong time of year, but hear me out.

Ya remember Scott Farkus and Grover Dill? The two bullies that made life hell for Ralphie, Flick, and the gang?

That's who I think of when I think of Junior and his pal Dusty.

See, little Grover Dill was a real badass, that is, as long as Scott Farkus was around.
Just like Grover, Junior, as long as ya have your hefty friend around, or the Millennium roster around, ya think ya got the world by the balls. Ya wanna push everybody on the RIOT! roster's buttons, and further this war, that YOU started. Ya manipulate who ya can and try to ostracize those ya can't, by callin them disloyal or only here to pick up a check. Ya try to bully them into bein a part of your war.

Hammerstein raises his head.

Hammerstein:
But, just like Ralphie, you and that big doofus, Dusty, have caught me on a bad day. Ya tried to bully the bully, and I'ma tell ya right now. That shit doesn't fly one goddamn bit.

So when we meet in the ring in just a matter of minutes, I'ma write my own version of A Christmas Story. My version has me kickin your little ass. And, big Dust, if ya wanna piece, bring your ass in the ring, and I'll wear ya out, too, ya big burly bastard.

Hammerstein stands up, his back still to the camera.

Hammerstein:
Junior, you're gonna find out the hard way that fuckin with me is like shootin the trusty ol' Red Ryder BB Gun. The difference is, I won't shoot your eye out….

Hammerstein turns, looking into the camera with a sadistic grin on his face.

Hammerstein:
I'll stomp your goddamn guts out.

Feliz Navidad, motherfucker.

Funny, how people tended to forget things that weren’t blaring in their faces 24/7. That’s what Aella thought as she was watched walking down that hallway, pry bar in hand, whistling her Irish Lullaby as she walked straight towards those locker rooms. Chris Constantine was in his match, Chimera Corps seemed to be distracted. Good enough for her, because it was his locker that she was stopping at. Still whistling, she tapped the locker once with her pry bar.

Aella Foley:
Och, Chrissy-chrissy-chrissy..

Cue her sigh. Cue her wretching that locker wide open with her pry bar, cracking it open with a violent heave before she decided to look through his locker until…

Aella Foley.:
Jack pot.

Pulling out that phone, she hit the screen, frowning the moment that she saw it was locked. Checking her own phone, she tried his birth year. Then Olivia’s Birthyear, then another combination of numbers before…

Aella Foley:
Shut up. Fucking really? 1-2-3-4? Is he fucking daft? Noooo. I. Really?

Thumbing through his phone, she paused, raising both of her brows, flipping the phone over to show the camera.

Heath and Big Barv are sitting backstage in the locker room on a bench. Heath has his cell phone out, swiping through it as Barv awkwardly watches.

Heath Williams:
So yeah, this is Ryan now, all grown up. He’ll be eighteen later this year. Already started training for the ring. I’m really proud of him. He’s a good kid, straight-A student. I’ve tried to talk him into going to college after school, become a Doctor or something, but he’s hell bent on following in his old man’s footsteps.

Heath keeps swiping.

Heath Williams:
Oh, this one’s of me and Linda at a wedding. We’re not together. She just needed a date, and her only other option was her pervy boss. So naturally I won. We hooked up that night, but decided we’re better off as friends. So yeah she and I are good, as long as I keep paying my child support until Ryan moves out of home. Um, let’s see…

Heath swipes through some more, then grins.

Heath Williams:
This was me, face deep in a stripper’s as-

Cheesecake walks in rubbing the back of her head as Barv and Heath look up. Heath puts away his phone as Cheesecake takes a seat.

Heath Williams:
Hey, how are you holding up?

Cheesecake:
Other than a whompin’ headache, never better. Doc says I’mma be fine, but gettin' a massage ain't gonna hurt. That Pinhead guy might be a loon, but he’s a really strong loon.

Heath Williams:
Ha, you’re telling me. My bones still hurt thinking about all those german suplexes he gave me back in the day.

Cheesecake:
Ah, we’ll get ‘em. Hey, after seein' The Misery up close n personal, ya got any idea who he is? Cuz the two of us, we're stumped.

Heath scratches his cheek.

Heath Williams:
Man, I really wish Missy were here. She’d be on this in a heartbeat.

Cheesecake:
That the chick who used to manage you two back in VoW?

Heath Williams:
Sure is.

Cheesecake smiles.

Cheesecake:
Feel sorry for her, havin’ to deal with that crap.

Heath Williams:
Amen to that. But if I had to guess, there’s a good chance The Misery might be Tony Flow.

Cheesecake:
That French dude, ya think so? You an' my dad both went toe to toe with him back at Solid Studios, didn't ya?

Heath Williams:
We did, yeah. He’s the only guy I know who could control Pinhead like that. It doesn’t make a whole lotta sense though… I mean, Flow’s French, and has a heavy accent at that. I mean, I guess he could have spent the last four years working on forming an American accent, but why? Not to mention, I don’t think he and Barv have ever met, so I’m not sure what Flow’s beef with him would be. And why would he make an effort to copy me down to a T?

Cheesecake frowns.

Cheesecake:
Maybe Barv ain’t his endgame? Maybe it’s you? There’s a chance he’s done all this to draw ya outta retirement. What you think, Barv?

Big Barv responds only in a long grunt.

Heath Williams:
Yeah, you’re right man. The only way to find out is by winning this match next week.

Cheesecake leans forward, jaw dropped.

Cheesecake:
Hold up… you can understand Barv too?!

Heath Williams:
Of course I can! He and I were brother’s once! Ain’t that right, Tay?

Barv shoots Heath a look, as if to tell him not to mention that ever again. Heath lifts his hands.

Heath Williams:
Whoa, easy there dude. Just playing around. But going back to The Misery… if that was what he was trying to accomplish, why would he run?

Cheesecake:
Maybe when ya showed up, it caught him off guard, screwed up the schedule he had goin’ on in his head? Maybe ya weren’t meant to show up yet.

Heath and Cheesecake continue to bounce ideas off of each other as the scene fades out.

Voice:
I should've known better than to expect her to keep her nose out of it.

The voice comes into the frame and it’s Brittany April. A scowl is on her face, hair back in the ponytail, and her tone suggests she is more than a little angry.

Brittany April:
Should’ve had the match won sooner. Should’ve done this, should’ve done that last week but I didn’t. Lost. Out of the battle for the briefcase. But now, Saki, you have my full attention.

The happy cheery Brittany is definitely not here tonight.

Brittany April:
I want to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to actually hurt anyone before. I just wanted to win. But with you, Saki, I want to hurt you. I want to make you bleed but I know you enjoy it. You’re sick and that’s just fine. You have a legacy of violence, right?

A roll of her eyes follows, less than unimpressed with what Saki has done, or is at least giving that impression.

Brittany April:
Doesn’t matter, really. The only thing you’ve brought to Millennium Wrestling Enterprises is rhymes weaker than a mumble rapper on Soundcloud. You and Spider tonight though. I wish I could say I’d still consider Spider a friend but heck….

Shrug with an oh well expression.

Brittany April:
She’s too busy whining about not being back to where she was, she was never there by the way, and trying to fight a damn interviewer. Really, really awesome stuff there Spider. That’s your ticket back to the Cloud Gate or whatever the hell you’re looking for.

That anger is still there in Brittany’s voice as she paces back and forth.

Brittany April:
You two are like everyone else here. They want it handed to them. They can’t go out and earn it anymore. Everything in life that is earned through hard work is what’s worth a good goddamn. People say they were robbed when they had every chance to win beforehand. They’ll cry foul. End of the day?

Dramatic pause.

Brittany April:
The only person that stops us is us.

And she follows that up by storming off of the camera’s eye.

“やっと終わりました。”

On those words we slowly fade in to the sight of Rie Shimizu. She sits on her knees, hands folded on her lap. Steps from behind the camera’s view are, presumably, Homare Kato, as his voice speaks out.

Homare Kato:
“It is finally over.”

She looks to the camera with, while not perhaps a joyous look, it is one of relief as she continues on for a time before it is translated.

Homare Kato:
“After being drawn into a violent tornado I did not ask to be involved in, it is finally behind me. Saki and LaGarde were defeated, not by sinking to their violence, but by surpassing them with skill in the ring. Despite how dangerous the experience was, it ended positively for me, and I am happy about that.”

She pauses a moment before continuing briefly.

Homare Kato:
“That said, I am rather thankful to put it all behind me, and focus on what matters again.”

She raises her hands from her lap, holding them out to indicate the empty space around her. Though, given Rie’s beliefs, it is likely she doesn’t think it empty. She goes on for a spell before the translation begins.

Homare Kato:
“I became a wrestler to honor the dead that linger around us. To acknowledge them, to hold them in my heart as I perform, to gain some success for them, and to give them a performance they can remember fondly for the rest of their time.”

She lets out a brief sad sigh before speaking again.

Homare Kato:
“And that was something I could not do while finding myself in between Saki and LaGarde, to my deep sadness.”

But she gives a small smile then as she speaks on.

Homare Kato:
“But, fortunately, this week I am once again able to focus on what truly matters to me.”

She speaks for a good while, the name of her opponent audible a few times as she goes on.

Homare Kato:
“This week I am honored to step into the ring with Bethany Driver. She has traveled the world, finding success across it and, like me, has recently had to deal with rather...unpleasant people, and just recently shook them from her by being better in the ring. So I am happy we get to face each other, as our first step towards what will hopefully be a better future.”

She stands up then, smiling wider as she speaks.

Homare Kato:
“Good luck tonight, Bethany. I look forward to seeing what we can do together in the ring, what we can bring out of each other, and how worthy a match we can put on for everyone who watches it...living or beyond.”

She gives a bow to the camera and a final smile before she departs, walking away from the camera’s view. The steps that have been heard periodically now step closer to the camera, just up behind it’s view before Kato’s voice comes through again.

Homare Kato:
A better future. One can only hope. So let’s hope together for brighter days, away from all that...unpleasantness, hm? And as ever... may you too find yourselves worthy of the departed’s blessings on this evening.

And with that the camera cuts to darkness, as crowded-feeling as ever.

Bethany Driver is caught by the cameras backstage talking with some of the stagehands right after her match against Rie Shimizu. Coming out of that intense fight victorious, Beth has a big smile on her face, but it quickly fades when Nina, the MWE intern walks into frame and tells Driver to follow her. The pair walks down the hallway without saying a word, reaching the closed door of the General Manager’s office. Nina lightly taps her knuckles against the door, pushing it open after Gian’s voice tells her to come in. Bethany follows her inside where she’s welcomed by a smile and a handshake by the GM.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Thank you Nina.

And that’s her cue. With a smile, the Chicago born leaves the office, closing the door on her way out.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Please Bethany have a seat. You must be exhausted and while I understand that summoning you here right after the battle you just went through may not be ideal, unfortunately time is short. I promise I’ll keep it quick.

He sits back on his chair, inviting her to do the same in one of the two seats positioned in front of him.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Do you want something to drink? A glass of water, maybe?

Bethany looks quite visibly nervous at the unexpected “meeting” with the GM. She even hesitates to sit, given that she’s still a bit sweaty, but she takes a seat nonetheless. She gives a shake of her head at the offer, holding up the bottle of water still in her hand.

Bethany Driver:
I’m fine, thank you.

Gian nods, leaning back on his chair and staring at her from some seemingly eternal moments in absolute silence.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
I’ve been paying particular attention at your career since you joined this company. I mean, this is certainly not the first big stage you stepped onto, but I was curious to see if you could live up the hype that brought you here.

The stern look on his face finally shifts to a smile.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
And you didn’t disappoint. Since your first match against Hammerstein, even if you came up short, you impressed me and, most importantly, the MWE fans. You created a bond with them, you got them on your side through all this rivalry… I still remember the cheers when you finally beat your nemesis..

He pauses, waiting to see her reaction. As he’s been speaking, Bethany has visibly relaxed from her initial discomfort at being called into his office. A small, small smirk forms on her face.

Bethany Driver:
I couldn’t hear much over the ringing in my ears. But I saw the recording once I got home.

She chuckles just a bit.

Bethany Driver:
I’m glad I managed to impress. It’s been a rough go to find somewhere to call ‘home’ and ply my trade lately, but I’m enjoyed my time here so far. I certainly hope to that it won’t be short-lived.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Well, they say “never say never” in this business…

He quickly replies.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
But I see no reason why I would deprive this company of one of its absolute stars. You’ve been a true professional, Bethany. Both inside and outside the ring. I need a challenger for SERO, a contender to the MWE Championship. I don’t see many people deserving it more than you do.

Bethany had been mid-sip from that bottle of water and had to hurriedly choke back a bit, leaning forward to be sure she had heard him properly.

Bethany Driver:
I’m sorry, did you say… Contender for the MWE Championship? Me? ...Really?

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Correct. You seem surprised.

A few moments pass as she tries to wrap her head around what she’s just heard.

Bethany Driver:
Well, I mean… I am. I haven’t been here long and… that’s a hell of an opportunity.

She shakes her head as something suddenly occurs to her.

Bethany Driver:
Not that I’m… I appreciate it of course. I’m just surprised, is all. I’m incredibly flattered that you think I deserve the chance.

The General Manager shakes his head.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
There’s no need to thank me. I’m not giving you an opportunity, you earned it. And you just confirmed it tonight, once more if there was any need…

Bethany takes a deep breath, trying to fully comprehend the opportunity that will be coming her way.

Bethany Driver:
Well Rie gave me a hell of a fight, but those are some of the best matches. At least I think so. Good to know that someone else appreciated it too. ...I just… are you sure? Really sure? I’m not used to good fortune. It’s making me a little nervous.

Gian smiles, nodding his head in agreement. Those who know him are well aware of how much he appreciates a clean and respectful fight such as the one Rie and Bethany delighted the MWE fans with few minutes ago.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
She’s a very talented young woman, with a bright future ahead. But it’s not her future we’re discussing here. I don’t need to tell you what this opportunity means. SERO has yet to be pinned in singles competition, and even if the way he won that title could be defined… questionable, that’s not taking anything away from his talent. I may go as far as saying that he’s the most dominant wrestler in the company today.

Bethany nods slowly as she considers the challenge.

Bethany Driver:
Well, it certainly sounds like I've got my work cut out for me then. Defeating SERO would be a tough mountain to climb. Maybe some people would say impossible. ...But some people said I'd never beat Hammerstein either.

She squares her shoulders.

Bethany Driver:
If you believe I've earned this opportunity, then I'm going to do everything in my power to knock SERO off the top of the mountain and take his spot for myself.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
I believe you have what it takes to step up to the challenge. And, should you be successful, to carry the company into its next chapter.

That seems to be all he had to say. Gian stands up from his chair, adjusts his jacket and with a light smile extends his hand to her.

Gianluigi Vaccaro:
Good luck, Bethany.

Bethany rises as well, shaking his hand firmly.

Bethany Driver:
Thank you, Mr. Vaccaro. I'll do my best to not disappoint.

With a final, appreciative smile she exits his office.

?:
So it’s Rollins now is it?

After that statement you hear a light chuckle escape as he spins his chair clutching his cane. That voice is familiar and we quickly put the face to the voice in what looks like a far different setting than the building. It’s Vincent Moretti, dressed to the nines as he almost always is with a black and yellow suit variation that certainly pops and that cane that helps his strongly labored movements. It does look like we’re in what could be his own personal office in Las Vegas.

Vincent Moretti:
Don’t worry kid, you’ve earned the right to be called what you want from both Seth and I. The gold you carry around that my client really wants for himself is enough to give you the credence and respect to be able to change something like that. But I heard you asking about different nicknames? Nah kid...let me tell you a trade secret...come in closer.

Vincent just gestures for the camera to come a little bit closer with that inviting smile still creeping onto his face.

Vincent Moretti:
Never ask for a nickname. It just comes naturally in the heat of the moment. Maybe an announcer sparks something that then sounds good and catches on. Maybe you piss off Aries. Maybe you even get lucky and strike gold in a spontaneous moment where you catch lightning in a bottle but to ask for something like that tells me that there’s still something missing there. And I don’t take you as the type for vanity…

Vincent then puts his hand on his chin as if he’s musing out loud.

Vincent Moretti:
If it’s not vanity...then…

And then you see his eyes light up.

Vincent Moretti:
You’re deeper in that web of being a slave to the court of public opinion than I thought...it’s really bad for a career in the long run you know...you remember that Taylor Wheeler kid? Got enslaved to that public opinion to take that one damn risk when we’re already putting Russian Roulette...then found out there were too many bullets in the gun to avoid and that was it. That could be your fate too.

Vincent’s head dips down for a little still in that train of thought as if he’s thinking more out loud than having some premeditated thought.

Vincent Moretti:
A slave to a court can’t beat back one of the trend setters of the industry over the last decade plus and you know that. You’re At least you’re not caught up in that messy brand war thing...wouldn’t want you having any excuses there. Though the fact remains that your arms are just too short to box with God if your own hands are being handcuffed by the people and you’re on trial for everything you say or do. But why am I telling you all this?

Vincent then lets out a shrug with a smirk. Not one of any particular malice but one that has a boat load of confidence bordering on arrogance.

Vincent Moretti:
My brother, my client, my friend...Seth Iser, he’s busy prepping for one of the biggest matches he’s had in awhile. So I’m the one speaking by Moretti-lite? Can that be a thing too? Well it’s a thing now. But I think while they wanted to stick a camera in his face about it, he politely told them this week that unless it was family talking to not talk to him until after the match. Or to put it in terms Seth probably used… ‘Fuck off.’

Vincent chuckles at his own impression of his friend.

Vincent Moretti:
Don’t worry I can afford to pay that fine.

Vincent’s light chuckle continues for a moment before his face does go more serious

Vincent Moretti:
Don’t worry kiddo, there’s nothing that’s a joking matter with you. In fact regardless of what you might think and what others might think, Seth and I really do want you to have this glittering career and to live up to all your promise and turn these early results into something that creates a long lasting legacy in the sport because the industry is better when there are more true stars and there are only so many that ever break through fully. You’re one that will if it hasn’t already but you also need to know of that pitfall, that weakness that’ll doom you if you don’t conquer it.

Vincent then just leans back on his chair thinking on things a little further with his hands folded over his lap.

Vincent Moretti:
Even if you do find some magic wand or the right mentor has the correct answer I doubt it’ll be enough to deal with Seth. He isn’t just a veteran, you could argue he’s wrestling some of the best matches of his entire life. Not career, life. A fire that I didn’t think would reignite is now a damn inferno and that motivation to raise his game again along with that knowledge that many of you kids don’t have because of lack of experience...you know how dangerous that combination is. He knows every little trick of the trade and even what the ref will do when his mind is clear and he sees the whole field.

Vincent then smirks for a moment.

Vincent Moretti:
Have I mentioned that knowledge and fire is all combined with the fact that he’s a six foot five, two hundred and forty-three pound destroyer with that deadly right handed punch? You don’t realize how intimidating that man is until you experience the whole ordeal in person and if you have such a debilitating weakness? It won’t matter how much you struggle kiddo or how bright your star is...in present form you’re too much of a slave to that court to do what you need to do to endure and even thrive in that situation and as for your championship here that you hold so dear?

Vincent’s smirk then becomes a smile.

Vincent Moretti:
The Cloud Gate Championship will just add yet another twelve pound piece of gold to his twelve ton legacy in this industry and you’d be his latest high profile victim in a long list of them…

Then the smile turns into a small, joyful laugh as he rocks back and forth on his office chair thinking about the championship and more money that’d be in play but we fade to black as he seems like he’s done speaking but we still hear the echo of his arrogant laugh a few seconds after we’ve faded out.

The scene cuts backstage to Cass Baumer exiting her locker room after her losing effort against Rydell and Luna. She starts to walk down the hall when out of nowhere, Megan Rydell shoves Cass into the brick wall of the hallway. Cass has no chance to fight back as Megan grabs her and nails her with Beautiful Disaster (Lifting DDT). Rydell isn’t done, as it’s obvious that she’s fuming about what happened a week ago. Megan drags Baumer by her hair before pulling her up and then suplexing her through a catering table. Standing up, Meg catches her breath before looking into the camera with a devious smile.

Megan Rydell:
Oh? You saw all that?

Megan’s eyes narrow onto the camera as she steps towards it.

Megan Rydell:
Good! Because I want this to be a message to not just Cass Baumer but to everyone over at Riot. You want to fucking step to me? You want to interfere in my affairs and involve me in your stupid little war? Well guess what? Baumer and that cunt Lena Skye decided to involve me and now you’re all going to pay for it.

Megan walks back over to the unconscious Baumer and grabs her hair before lifting her head up.

Megan Rydell:
You see this? This is the future for all of Riot. I’m all in on this little war now and it’s not to support Millennium or protect it…. No! This is for me and to make sure none of you get in my way of becoming the Millennium Champion, which is my main goal. But for now? I’ll continually enjoy ripping you all to shreds, one by one. It doesn’t stop with this bitch Baumer, trust me on that.

Meg smiles widely before shrugging her shoulders.

Megan Rydell:
Guess we’ll see who wants to be the next one to step to me, won’t we?

Meg chuckles before kicking Cass one last time for good measure and then walking away from the scene.

The view cuts to inside a dressing room, once again being filmed from a phone. Once again, said phone is set up on a stand. The sun's starting to go down, hence there being a lamp on. The crowd boos at the very sight of Katie Montes's face once it appears. The light from the lamp illuminates her face from the front, but lower than eye level. Katie has her right hand resting on her cheek, with her right elbow resting on her her left palm, and her left arm across the bottom of her ribs.

Katie Montes:
You know, you originally brought me to Millennium, Rebecca. You dragged me from what was basically retirement due to my shitty reputation to here. Before this month, whenever I thought I was done with wrestling for good... you dragged me back into it, and while my stints weren't very long because "the flame died out once again," as Seth Iser's manager would probably put it... I was at least there where you were. I at least had a couple matches before the flame died out. I can't thank you enough for at least trying to keep me around. Even when I was at my most useless. Even when I was at my lowest depth. Even when no one else wanted me around, you did. So, allow that to preface what I have to say.

Katie maneuvers her arms back to a more natural position, crossing her fingers together and folding her hands across her stomach.

Katie Montes:
You're aware of the history between us in the ring. You've made it clear before on Twitter. But allow me to enlighten those who wouldn't know. You beat me once in Visionaries of Wrestling for a chance at a different briefcase. The match you qualified for was a 30-minute iron man match called the Quest For The Case. You pulled my tights to qualify for it, but other than that, you got me. I'll admit it. The second time wasn't for a briefcase, but was during a really dark time in my life. My second stint in HYBRID. In fact, that was the very start of that stint. I pinned you. As it stands tonight, we are officially at one-a-piece. But we've never faced one another as friends outside of training together once at Georgia Tech days before I made my first Millennium debut.

Just a shrug.

Katie Montes:
I'm glad that we're friends now. Really, I am. Most any day that we get to talk is a good one. But that doesn't stop me from watching back the first time we fought with a chance at a briefcase on the line. That doesn't stop me from giving you your receipt for that. Us being friends doesn't stop me from winning this briefcase no matter how I do it. And I'm sure that you wouldn't want it any other way. I'm sure you're thinking the exact same thing. But here's a fortune cookie quote for you: the person with nothing to lose is the most dangerous and has everything to gain. I've had nothing to lose for over a year except some matches. My reputation is shot. I'm seen as a joke. I'm being slept on in the hashtag-Quag-Cup as a direct result. I have nothing to lose. Except this match, and Rebecca? I'm not in the business of losing any more. No, I'm in the business of getting everything that's coming to me. The briefcase, the Quag Cup, anything I can get a shot at. If I can get an ice cream cone down the street with extra sprinkles from the nearest ice cream cart, I'm getting that. If I can get a shot at the briefcase, I'm gonna win it. If I can get a shot at the MWE Championship, I'm gonna win that. Everything that's coming to me, I'm gonna get, come hell or high water.

Katie takes a breath before reassuming her "more natural position" position.

Katie Montes:
"I understand that it can be hell trying to reach the promised land. I've been there, done that. No one can say I haven't. Hell, some might say I'm still in hell and that I've not reached that promised land yet. And yet here I am. I'm still here. I'm still breathing. I'm not in jail. I'm able to put food on the table. Maybe I ain't got the notoriety, but that'll come with the briefcase. With the MWE Title. With the Quag Cup. But all that? Matters not if I lose this match, which yes, HAS crossed my mind. I'll admit to you that I've got no idea what I'll do if I lose everything I'm in other than resetting the foundation. I've lost count of how many times I've set foundations only for hurricanes to continually sweep those away. But how many times they've been swept doesn't matter to me anymore. Because I'm the storm now. I proved that when I said I would beat Kymmy Oliver and did. I'm going to prove it again tonight. I'm going to prove that you can plan a pretty picnic but you can't predict the weather. Good luck weathering me, Rebecca."

Katie walks to turn off the camera app, even picking the phone up to do so, but remembers something...

Katie Montes:
Oh, and no hard feelings.

Jared Idol:
Well, that was a huge mess...

Bea Torres:
All hell broke loose in this match, but in the end, Becky picked up the win!

Jared Idol:
That she did, despite Duke Andrews attempt to reorganize her face with a steel chair.

Bea Torres:
She owes a big thank you to Rie... I'd say she repaid her debt tonight.

Jared Idol:
I don't think Rebecca ever considered that a debt. She just did what she felt was right, and tonight Rie did the same. 

Bea Torres:
True. But what really matters, is that she's one of the two confirmed semifinalists of the BOTB tournament, teh other one being Jason Hawk.

Jared Idol:
Tune in on Saturday's Riot to see who will fill the two remaining spots, as Melissa Reeves takes on Kenzie Garrett while Kelsey Spencer is going to face Veronica Salinas.

Bea Torres:
Oh and speaking of Riot... Y'all heard Gian's announcement, their time's up.

Jared Idol:
Aye, and so is ours. Good night ladies and gentlemen!