Death Row PRE-SHOW Voting & Promo Thread

A strong word that carries very strong, negative connotations.

I want my former teammate to listen and take note of what I am telling him. Not one single time during our union, not even in passing, did I ever call you this horrible word. You were just the Big Guy to me. I could never bring myself to call you BUG or any of the other numerous names the people around you call you. I could never do it for one simple reason…



I am uglier inside than your physicality could ever represent. I’ve never lied to you, I’ve always done my best to forward this team. I am the reason you’ve even seen title shots. I did the impossible. I, Butters, out lasted two men born into the hardcore division, Adema Aeries and Styxx, in an UltraViolent match. I beat them both and earned the right to challenge for the Television Championships with my choice of anybody in Full Metal Wrestling as my partner.

The old me… he would’ve chosen a superstar, a Drew Michaels, a Harlequin, or a Jaro… and guaranteed victory over Creative Control. That’s what the intelligent, selfish man I used to be would have done. I am Butters… I am different than that. I decided to use my title shot to take a man that had been largely overlooked and give him what could quite possibly be the only title shot of his career. I wanted to continue my campaign to further the rookies here, teach them the lessons that most people can only learn by ruining their lives. I furthered this campaign by giving the Big Guy his first career championship opportunity.



I got a lot more out of our team than I had hoped. I honestly wanted to win those championships… I wanted it so bad. Not even for me, but for the Big Guy. I know my time has passed , but I had high hopes that I could carry my new friend to a higher plateau than I had achieved myself. Time after time, BUGGERS came up short, and each time, like the protective older brother, like the guilt-ridden team captain, I shouldered the blame. I took the Big Guy aside, and told him that it wasn’t his fault, that I couldn’t hold up my end of the team. Time after time…



Big Guy… I’m sorry. I told myself so many times… “it’s only one more lie.” I told myself you’d improve by our next match. I kept lying to you and myself, under the belief that you’d come through. I could only take the lies for so long Big Guy. I tried so hard to keep our team going, friend… I tried, but like almost everything else I tried for in my career…

I failed.

Big Guy, the pressure of holding you up for so long snapped, so when I saw you standing in the center of that ring, joy on your face, victory in the air… I had to end it. It wasn’t fair that I sat on the sidelines, the same as I’ve always been, a loser, and you were where you were. I wanted you to be successful and happy, but not through my lies. This was the only way I could right my wrong, and at Death Row… I right my final wrong.

In order to restore everything to where it was, I need to prove what you are. Two things can happen in our match. First, you could beat me, handing me yet another loss and nothing happens. I remain where I am, and you get nothing. You get no respect for beating the bottom of the food chain, and my life goes on unchanged. The other thing that can happen is that I prove that I carried you for the past year. I prove that you were nothing before I came along and you will be nothing after I leave you.



Big Guy, I’d like to tell you that I’m not going to enjoy what I have to do… but through all the lying, all the deceiving, and the familiar feeling of disappointing people… perhaps some of that inner ugliness is rising back to the top…



Big Guy. BUGGERS is dead, and only one of us can walk away from it’s burning shell. I’ve given up everything in my career. My pride, my name, my honor, my legacy. I thought I had lost everything, but you’ve again proven me wrong. You took from me one thing I haven’t lose before. You took away my friendship. Now, I’m done with you. Now, we end this. Now, the last gift I will ever give you is a lesson.



At Death Row, you lose your scapegoat.
At Death Row, you lose your partner.
At Death Row, you lose your friend.
At Death Row, you lose your pride.

At Death Row, you become just like me… and if you’ve paid attention to anything I’ve ever told you, you should know…

This match. The one that I will win.

At Distortion 9.4, in my debut, I won my first match here in FMW, with Steve Monroe against Simon Sheldon and David Campeon. From my point of view, Monroe couldn’t have won without me. He may think differently. But, enough said about my match last week. Let’s focus on my upcoming match. The Future Stars Battle Royal.

With the name of the match, I know that I should be in the match. I am the future of FMW, and I am a star of the squared circle. I’m up against 8 other men at Death Row. Two lost at Ammunition, one lost at Distortion, one hasn’t stepped inside an FMW ring before, and two I’ve never heard of. And there’s the matter of Steve Monroe. He’s my main threat in this match. The most experienced wrestler in this match. He’s the one I need to focus on to win this match. The others, not so much.

Then again, I’m not the most experienced person in this match either. I have to do well here to cement my place here. I’m an upcoming star in this business and one day I will be the World Champ like Hostyle and others before him.

I believe that I have the power to survive as one of the greats here in FMW. This battle royal will tell me what I have to offer here to this business. Surviving this battle royal will mean I am the most upcoming star in FMW. People like me are what’s needed in these wrestling companies.

My hometown. Perth, Australia, has had some great wrestlers come out of it, most of them here in FMW. Both our tag champs, Skyler Striker & Leon Caprice are from Perth. Ammunition’s newcomer Abel Steele, also from Perth. Considering what these three have achieved, it’s only fair to look and see the future that I, being from Perth, will be.

I’m starting from the bottom of the chain in FMW, and I will slowly, but surely, make my way to the top. After I win this battle royal, I’m going after Striker and his Abandoned Championship.

Full Metal Wrestling will never be the same again. I am The Phenomenal TJ Tilli. I will become one of the best wrestlers FMW has ever seen.


A scene opens inside a dark room.

MC: Dude, you’re insane!

TJ: What the hell do you think you’re doing telling me that?

MC: I’m your best friend mate!

TJ: Look, I’m doing what I love doing.

MC: God help us all.

TJ: And what’s that supposed to mean?

MC: Nothing, nothing.

TJ: Yeah, it better mean nothing

MC: You know you’re no fun anymore

TJ: What?

MC: Yeah, before we started wrestling we used to be out on the town. Now you’re just serious about everything.

TJ: And why shouldn’t I be? Wrestling’s my life. Our life!

MC: You know what. I’m joining you in this battle royal.

TJ: You do that. And you know what? I’m going to eliminate you. First and foremost.

MC: You couldn’t beat me if you tried.

TJ: Yeah? We’ll see who’s better at Death Row after I beat your ass!

MC: Yeah, you’re so full of yourself.

MC Steel walks out of the room with a smirk on his face



Alex Macey lost in a tag team match on Ammunition, whereas I won a tag team match on Distortion.
Brandon Allain lost in a tag team match, and got pinned. I won a tag team match.
That’s 2 guys I can beat.
Simon Sheldon. I beat Sheldon at Distortion. If I beat him once, I can beat him again.
Jordan Chamberlain. Well, I don’t know much about this guy. Then again, nobody will after I eliminate him at Death Row.
Arrow the MVP. Like Chamberlain, I haven’t heard of him either.
MC Steel, I know him. He’s my best mate. I told him I’d eliminate him, and I’m going to stick to that.
Finally, Steve Monroe. On Distortion he was my tag partner, here he’s my enemy. I’m going to beat him as well.

8 men. 1 winner. That winner will be me.

A cryptic binary code flashes up on a screen. Numbers and letters rush through the screen as an illumination of Tilli walking out fades out through the screen. The letters and numbers stop on a code. The code reads “hell@death.row.2009”.

As the code reads, hell WILL break loose at Death Row. And I’m going to start it. I’m going to be the one walking out of Death Row. The others fail to meet the standards. I, TJ Tilli, will be the greatest wrestler to grace the presence of the Full Metal Wrestling ring. I will become the greatest wrestler in the history of Full Metal Wrestling.

So you see, after I win, Full Metal Wrestling will never be the same again.

I’m the phenomenal TJ Tilli.

And nobody will stand in my way of what is mine.

What is mine, mine to receive here in Full Metal Wrestling.

Mine, which many before have held, and many before have lost.

Mine, which will make me the best wrestler to grace America.

The best wrestler to grace the face of the earth.

And what’s mine, is glory.

8 years ago. ……….

Steve is in a gym in St Paul, Minnesota. He has been working tirelessly trying to get in shape for the Olympics. He wrestled 4 years at Iowa, gain national titles all 4 years. Being in the Olympics has been his dream every since he has 4 years old.
Steve is working with his trainer Randy St. James.

Randy: Come on Steve push it just one more lap.

Steve has been in the lap pool for about an hour now. Steve does his last lap and gets out of the pool winded.

Steve: Now what, I am tired but I am not ready to call it a day.

Randy: Well everyone needs a break, but I suppose you could get dried off and you could do some more mat work.

Steve: Sounds good. I will be back in about 3 minutes.

Steve goes dries up and they are working on spins and sit-outs. When Steve’s foot slips the wrong way and snap bursts both MCL’s.

2 Weeks Later……….

Steve: So I guess there is no point in beating around the bush. I am finished aren’t I?

Randy: Well Steve there are still many avenues to approach. You earned your degree in Criminal Justice.

Steve: Please I didn’t earn shit. We all know they handed me that thing to keep me eligible. I am no politician, I am a man of action.

Randy: Well there are a few ways you can go, The UFC and MMA is getting big now you can try out there.

Steve: That is not that bad of an idea. Would you still train me?

Randy: Well Steve I am only a good wrestling coach you will need more than myself if you are really going to make it there.

Steve: Well I am pretty much the best armature wrestler on the planet that is a good start.

Randy: That is not all though Steve you will need to train in boxing, and learn some submissions to really ever amount to anything. You can always try professional wrestling?

Steve: Professional wrestling in this day and age is a joke, maybe as a last resort that avenue can be looked into.


Present Day…………..

That’s all it took for my life to completely change. 30 seconds of practice, blew out both my knees lost my chance at the Olympics. I guess it was inevitable that I end up in professional wrestling. MMA just wasn’t for me. You are not allowed to have any kind of personality. So give the fans something to boo at you get fired. It doesn’t matter where you are on the food chain or how much money you make, Dana will can you just the same.

Now that I got canned by Dana I need to make some calls and find a job.

Steve picks up the phone and gives Drew Michaels a call.

Steve: Hey Drew,….. Yeah he fired me, I guess he didn’t like that little stunt huh? (HAHAHAHAHAH) yeah it was funny though. Since I am out of work, does your offer still stand?.......... It does nice. No offense but I never thought I would be a pro-wrestler….. Well you saw it man I still got the skills, what you got for me match wise……. Tag with TJ, well I guess beggars can be choosers. Ok Ill be there.


Day after Distortion……….

Well that was a cake walk, but I still haven’t really displayed my wrestling skills I need a better chance to do something.

Steve strolls over to look at the line up for Death Row.

A Battle Royal that’s not a wrestling match. How do you book the best wrestler in FMW in match that involves absolutely no wrestling? I have been here a month and I have already had it. I need to calm down and just do what I do best.

Steve Grabs his cell phone and dials a number.

Steve: Hey Randy how are things man?

Randy: Same old same old man. Did find work?

Steve: Yeah man that is why I am calling, I would like you to come manage me at Full Metal Wrestling

Randy: Come on man that is pro wrestling right.

Steve: I know man but there is a killing to be made here. There are some talented people but no “REAL” wrestlers.

Randy: Well I haven’t found work yet. So what are we talking about.

Steve: Well you know the manager shtick don’t yea.

Randy: What you mean I come with you to the ring, run my mouth, cheat a little, and maybe get beat up time to time.

Steve: Well take away the beatings then yea. Come on Randy you can handle yourself well. None of these guys could lay a hand on you.

Randy: I don’t have to wear a flashy outfit do I?

Steve: The only thing you need man is a flashy personality.

Randy: So when do I start?

Steve: When can you get to the gym.

Randy: Next week?

Steve: Perfect, right before my Death Row Battle Royal

Randy: Battle Royal? That seems like a waste of your in-ring ability.

Steve: Tell me about it. They are calling it a Future Stars of Full Metal wrestling Battle Royal.

Randy: Any big names?

Steve: Big names, don’t make me laugh these guys are hacks compared to what I can do.

Randy: Can we do one of those cool little rants where we berate the competition?

Steve: You know it! As soon as you get here we will throw something together.

Randy: Sweet see you in a few days.

Steve: Later man.

Steve hangs up the phone…

The day before Death Row…

Randy St. James: Ladies and Gentlemen, the man I am about to introduce is getting ready to participate in his second match here in Full Metal Wrassling. This match will not test his wrassling abilities for two reasons. 1) Alex Macey, Brandon Allailn, Simon Sheldon, TJ Tilli, MC Steel, Jordan Chamberlain , Arrow the MVP are not really competition for Steve Monroe, and 2) A battle royal is about survival of the fittest. The slack jawed inbred hicks competing against Steve talk a small game, and wrassle and even smaller one.
Steve and I have an agenda here. Neither of us though our lives would land us in Professional Wrassling, but since it has there is only one thing we can do, and that is adapt and overcome. Full Metal Wrassling is a shell of a company with people who would rather cheat to win than do it honorably like Steve. FMW is full of people who would rather throw you off a ladder or scaffold than pin you. FMW as it is with its current roster is slowly eating itself away. FMW is a cancer, and my main man Steve along with some others will make this place a shining light in the WRESTLING world once again, tell them Steve…

Steve Monroe: WEEEEEEELLLLLLLL, Death Row is a fitting name for the PPV , and a battle royal. Make no mistake Alex Macey, Brandon Allailn, Simon Sheldon, TJ Tilli, MC Steel, Jordan Chamberlain , and Arrow the MVP, you guys are all sitting on Death Row even as we speak. Nothing is going to save you from your sentence, Death by means of all brutality at the hands of Steve Monroe. See I may not like being here, but when I decide to do something I give it a 150 percent. Something none of you guys can possibly imagine. I am not saying I am better than you guys because I am a 4-time NCAA wrestling champion; I am not saying I am better than you guys because I qualified for the Olympics, I am not even saying I am better than you guys because I competed in UFC. I am saying I am better than all of you guys because it is a matter of FACT. There is no way of getting around it I am just better.

I came into the FMW at the advice of a good friend Drew Michaels. He told me this place needing rebuilding. That FMW and its roster is complacent. He asked me to help with the culling of the weak. And at Death Row with Alex Macey, Brandon Allailn, Simon Sheldon, TJ Tilli, MC Steel, Jordan Chamberlain , and Arrow the MVP it begins. Randy let’s get out of here we have business to attend to.

Steve and Randy St. James leave the scene and head out to their match.

Good Times

The good doctor Smith entered Ripper’s sorry excuse for a bedroom with a twirl of his keys and a quick smiling flash of his perfect white teeth, just as he always had. The door slowly swung shut behind him. As the latch clicked and all the grudging protection the outside hall presented was cleanly removed from play, his devilishly charming smile fell from his face. No one had any way of seeing him in here except Ripper. He had no need to pretend to be happy anymore. And besides, he was pissed. His favorite toy was leaving.

“The board agreed to your release. Tomorrow my little pet gets to reenter the big wide outside world. You can even join that wrestling thing you love so much. Aren’t you sooo glad?

Ripper stirred slowly from his place on the bed. He had not bothered to open his eyes to see the good doctor Smith enter, but now he opened them wide and looked into Smith’s with an expression of mock surprise.

“Really, Smithie? They did? No shit this time?” The mock surprise left him, and Ripper allowed his face to fall back into the blank stare that it usually displayed. “Just figured that out did you? You’re about as bright as a box of rocks, you dumbass pervert.”

The good doctor Smith’s eyes showed genuine hurt this time, “You could have told me you were leaving! What am I supposed to do here without you all day? No one else around here will play with me!” The good doctor Smith’s voice had gradually become louder as he spoke until he was practically shouting. He was more upset than Ripper had ever seen him.

Ripper spoke calmly as he cracked his knuckles, “These walls are thick, Smithie, but they aren’t soundproof. You’re going to tip off the rest of the building to your private little antics if you keep this up. Wouldn’t want that would we? I still have an entire . . .” Ripper glanced at the small digital clock on his desk off handedly, “. . . sixteen hours. I figured you would want to make the best of that time.” He cocked his eyebrow at the good doctor Smith expectantly. “Well?”

The good doctor Smith stood silent with a look of half hearted hope in his eyes. “Really? Just like that? No demands this time? No deals?” Smith looked damn near ready to piss himself.

“Nothing at all, Smithie. This is, after all, a celebration. I leave this government prescribed hellhole in the morning. You get this one for free.”

The good doctor Smith had already unzipped his pants before Ripper was done speaking. They fell quickly to the floor exposing his pink flowery women’s underwear.

Ripper smiled wickedly. “Well now we’re talking.”

[size=200]Monkeys . . . [/size]

Ripper walked down the sidewalk towards the bar Damien had told him about. He was looking forward to seeing an old friend. Ripper glanced up from the sidewalk and was forced to squint his eyes against the bright sunlight. Ripper hadn’t been out in sunlight for nearly a year.

The first thing to meet his vision was a small chimp standing directly in front of him on the sidewalk, and for some godless reason it was wearing a hat. Nice fedora, Ripper thought to himself. I wonder were I can get one of . . . wait just one fucking minute! This is bull. There aren’t just monkeys with wicked awesome hats walking around the streets.

Ripper stopped and pulled his hands out of his pockets to stare at the monkey for a couple seconds. The damn monkey obviously isn’t real. If I acknowledge the monkey I’ll just have to turn around, get right back on the train, and commit myself right back in when I’ve only just left. Anger flashed across Ripper’s face. Screw you, awesome monkey.

Ripper walked on.

As Ripper passed him, the monkey seemed to waiver, and then disappeared as so many of the phantasms of Ripper’s mind had before him.

Serves you right.

[size=200]. . . And the Ghosts of Friends[/size]

Ripper arrived at the bar a few minutes later. Damien was standing outside by his bike and looking tense. Not that Ripper had ever seen the broken version of his friend looking relaxed, or seen him at all, for that matter, in a long goddamn time. Damien spotted Ripper quickly, and underhanded a set of keys towards Ripper’s chest.

“My new bike?”

Damien nodded. “That midget of a delivery boy dropped it off just like you wrote.”

Ripper smiled, finally spotting his shiny new ride a few spaces to Damien’s left. “I’ve been waiting ten damn years to get back on a motorcycle.” He turned to Damien, “I used to tell Davie stories about the stupid shit I did on my old bike to cheer him up.” Ripper looked Damien up and down. “I want to talk to David.”

Damien’s face barely twitched. “No.”

Ripper’s good humor left in a hurry. “You can either let me talk to him or this will get real ugly real quick. David was my friend. You weren’t, you stupid body snatcher.”

Damien’s face grew angry. “I didn’t ask to be here! David was weak. The stupid little shit couldn’t handle his damn problems. His parents, the asylum, that sick bastard Smith! He made me carry it all for him!”

Ripper replied slowly, “I got Smith to leave you alone. He never bothered you again”

“Even without that David was too weak,” Damien sneered.

Ripper nodded, “I believe you there, I guess. But I still want to speak to him.”

“I can’t.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Damien nearly exploded in frustration, “I can’t! Sonny won’t let him!”

Ripper shouted back, “Who the hell is Sonny? If you have another damn personality, I swear to god, I’m going to beat the shit out of you!”

Damien lunged forward and suddenly he had his hand at Ripper’s neck. “A lot of things have changed since I left, Ripper. Not everything out here is about what happens inside our heads.” Damien leaned his head in close. “Sometimes the evil inside us comes from somewhere else.”

Tired of Damien’s hand at his throat, Ripper took the opportunity to drive a right hook directly into Damien’s face. Damien released Ripper and was knocked backwards nearly three feet. Ripper coughed to clear the pain from his throat, then looked up at Damien. He didn’t look hurt, or even phased. He just looked different than Ripper remembered. Something around the eyes . . .

“We’re done here. Your first match is tomorrow. Just show up and don’t lose.” Damien mounted his bike and began to pull away. As he went his hand darted out and a small silvery dart flew directly at Ripper’s heart.

This was an old favorite of Damien’s. Ripper had plucked the dart out of the air before he even knew what had happened. He opened his hand to look more closely at the dart, and found that it had been wrapped in a small piece of paper. Now that was a favorite of David’s. Apparently he wasn’t as far gone as Damien thought. He opened the paper. There was only one word. Sonneillon. “Sonny, huh? Confucius say, ‘Something wicked this way fucking runs.’”

Ripper started his new bike with a grim smile. He still had one more old friend to see today. One last time.

[size=200]Knock Knock[/size]

Ripper pulled up outside the nice suburban house on his motorcycle just as the final fragments of light left the sky. He shut off the engine and dismounted in the dark. He opened the flap to his saddlebag, which wasn’t really necessary because the handle to what he wanted was sticking out of the top anyway. Ripper picked up his new sledgehammer with one hand then closed the flap with the other. He was already in love with the delicious weight and power of his new toy. Now it was time to use it.

Ripper walked to the door and rang the bell. He waited a moment then grasped the sledgehammer with both hands and lifted it up like a bat. The light behind the door switched on and Ripper tensed in anticipation. He waited again. The door handle rattled slightly as someone grasped it on the other side.

Ripper smiled maniacally as he swung the sledgehammer with all of his force at the door. With all that decimating power behind it, the hammer splintered the door like cardboard and just kept going. It struck the good doctor Smith in the mouth, knocking his formerly perfect teeth into the back of his head.

Ripper kicked in the remaining pieces of the door and found the good doctor Smith laying on the floor making what can only be described as frantic gurgling noises through the blood that was hemorrhaging out of his face like a fountain. Fear filled the good doctor Smith’s eyes. He pissed himself and a puddle formed on the hardwood floor beneath him. The blood and piss flowed around him then mixed in interesting swirls that Ripper couldn’t help but stop and admire.

“I’m sorry, Smithy. I really would love to slow down and enjoy this, but I have a match tomorrow and I need to go get some rest. This will be quick. Or at least nowhere near as long as you deserve, you sick bastard.”

The hammer descended with all of Ripper’s force directly onto the good doctor Smith’s crotch. Then he hit again, slightly higher up on the stomach. Ripper made his way like this directly up the center of the good doctor Smith’s body as the blood pooled around them and sloshed along the wall in time with Ripper’s slow and methodical swinging. The only time Ripper deviated from direct center was to crush the good doctor Smith’s heart. When he at last came to the head, Ripper stopped.

“Smithie, you know, I think I’m really going to love the FMW. They actually let us use these sweet sledgehammers in the ring. During these things called Ultraviolent matches.” A visible shiver ran up Ripper’s spine and he smiled. “Just thinking about it makes me all hard.” Ripper swung one final time and the good doctor Smith’s skull and brain matter flew out in variously sized chunks in all directions.

“Night night, Smithie. It was nice catching up.” Ripper walked out of the front door hugging his new favorite toy close to his heart. The next day’s match couldn’t come soon enough for him.

[size=200]Scene One: All that's missing is you.[/size]

One week before the 10 man Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal at the Death Row preshow. We find Alex inside of the upstairs bedroom of his newly bought 3 bedroom house in London Ontario. As he rests the red duffel bag he just finished packing full of his workout clothes and equipment on his king sized bed, he looks over at the clock on the nightstand beside his bed knowing that outside in Cameron Wonders car, Rock And Roll, Black Belt and of course Cameron himself wait, and in his own car Brandon Allain and his girlfriend Jessica. He rests easy when he sees it’s only 11:22 meaning he has a few more minutes to get everything ready quickly. He then reaches over to the drawer of the end table located beside the bed and opens it, exposing box of bullets, holster, and the P99 inside it. He pulls the three items out of the drawer and puts them on the bed. He then grabs the holster and begins to attach it to the black leather belt he already has around his waist, which holds up his black Levi jeans. As he does he thinks back to just a few weeks before, where him forgetting to do this exact thing, attaching his holster, almost cost him his life outside of a San Francisco nightclub. When he finishes he grabs the P99 and gives it a quick look down before cocking it back and aiming it out. Looking down the barrel of the gun brings back many memories to Alex, from the night AJ gave it to him just months before he died, to the time it helped him safe the hostages during the bank robbery that happened 2 months before in Halifax. But along with the good memories the gun brings, there are just as many bad. Alex mind snaps out of his trip down memory lane as he puts the gun safety on and ejects the clip. Picking the clip up he grabs a 9mm round from out of the box and before putting the clip back in the gun loads the round into it. Once the clip snaps into place, he spins the gun on his finger once quickly before putting it into the holster, which he covers with his black Tapout shirt. Alex then looks at the clock and sees its 11:29. Realizing how long everyone’s been waiting, he quickly puts the box of bullets back inside of the drawer and close it, along with his bedroom door. On his quick way out towards the stairs where at the bottom, the warm embrace of Jessica surprises him, as she wraps her arms around him and kisses him on the cheek. Alex smiles and turns his head, and as his eyes close kisses Jessica lovingly on the lips. When the kiss ends and his eyes open he sees her beautiful browns ones staring back at his and he smiles at her savoring the moment wishing he could hold on to it forever. Though in the back of his mind he knows nothing can last forever. However another thing he knows is that he is extremely lucky to be with a girl as amazing and as beautiful as the girl standing in front of him with her purple top, blue jeans and newly died and straightened black hair. Though it probably will not last forever he wouldn’t trade a single moment with her for the world, because every moment like this one is one to be cherished. Though this moment is cut short by the loud sound of a car horn honking twice. After hearing this Alex looks towards the front door before returning his gaze to Jessica who says with a giggle in her voice.

Jessica: We should probably get going babe hehe.

Alex: Oh shit yeah. Everyone's still waiting outside.

Jessica: Hehe yeah. I came in to let you know were gonna be late, but I got a bit distracted.

Jessica’s face turns slightly red as the words leave her mouth. Alex notices and while smiling rests his hand against hers as their fingers start to intertwine.

Alex: So your bags already in the car?

Jessica: Yep, all that’s missing out there babe is you.

Alex: Ha ha, well then we should fix that.

The couple then walks to the closet by the front door where Alex grabs, and puts on his black winter coat. The two then head out the front door, to the driveway where Alex's red 64 Impala is parked with Brandon in the back drivers side seat smoking a joint. Alex pops the trunk of his ride and tosses his bag inside before walking to the front passenger door and opening it for Jessica whom gets inside. He then walks around the car opens the door hops in and says as he close the door.

Alex: Yo B, give me a hit off that shit.




[size=200]Scene Two: We need this.[/size]

About 15 minutes later, Alex's red Chevy pulls into the parking lot of the adrenaline training center with Cameron Wonders blue Skyline following right behind. As both cars pull into consecutive parking spaces with the Impala being on the right the windows of both cars begin to roll down and as the passenger side of the Skyline comes down, Rock And Roll's hand goes out of the window. Though not just Rocks hand goes through the window. The just lit 2g banana flavored blunt clutched in-between his fingers goes through as well, and as the smoke from the blunt is exhaled though the nostrils of Rock and Roll. Alex takes it from rocks hand putting it quickly to his own lips and inhaling deeply enjoys the mixture of banana, tabacco leaf and ganja found in the flavor of the smoke. Alex passes the blunt to Jessica who takes a hit as he lets the smoke stay trapped inside of his lungs for a few more moments before he lets it all out as he exhales deeply and says.

Alex: So. I hope you guys are ready for some fucking intense training once we get inside. The Ultimate fighting gym we were going to back on the East Coast and the workouts there were a good push. But its fuck all when compared to the shit here, this is one of if not the best MMA gym in Canada.

Brandon sticks his hand out the window with the blunt in his grip passing it to Black Belt who takes it.

Brandon: I know I'm fucking ready. I'm fucking pumped.

Alex: Good cause were doing 6 hours of this today, and from now on we'll be doing no less then 15 hours of training a week.

Brandon: Yeah but fuck A, that’s allot.

Alex: It is, but we need it. We cant just do 3 hours a week and even missing that sometimes and expect to be at the best of our ability by match time anymore. I know we already have the strength, the heart, the aggression, and the drive to do this. But when it comes to technique there’s still a lot for us to learn. And our match against Danse Macabre proved that.

Brandon: Yeah, I'm not gonna lie they pwned us, though they probably wouldn’t of if we put in a bit more time for training.

Alex: Exactly, and that’s why we need the training.

Rock: I agree Alex. And Yo you were saying they had jujitsu training here to right?

Alex: Damn straight jujitsu, Olympic style wresting, boxing and Muay Thai kick boxing.

Rock: Hmm, well the boxing and kick boxing will help you guys a bit, though I think with the stuff Black has taught you guys, mixed with the street fighting knowledge, you guys have and the 5 years of tae kwon do B has. You already have a pretty good stand up game.

Brandon: Fuck yeah we do.

Cameron: Yeah but at the same time adding a bit more to your arsenal cant hurt, and Muay Thai is known for being a very balanced style. And the boxing will add a little more technique to your punches. So training in those will make your stand up game very well rounded.

Black: That it will. And this reminds me, there is still much I must teach you both, so that in that ring your strikes will have the grace of a dove yet the power of elephant.

Brandon: So pretty much your saying we'll be able to fuck people up better then we can already fuck people up.

Black: That is the gist of it.

Brandon: Fucking sweet!

Alex: It is, Black your added training combined with this will help us immensely. Like I trained here for a few months earlier in the year before we all left for Halifax and man, what we went to there is nothing compared to here the training here is fucking intense. You learn so much in both stand up and ground and it makes a amazing base man, and the trainers are chill here too so its awesome training here.

Cameron: From what I’ve heard about this place it does give a great base, and add in the advanced shit B knows from the variety of martial arts he has learnt and you get one hell of a fighting style.

Rock: Exactly and that brings up what I was saying earlier, the ground moves you learn here is gonna be the best thing to ever happen to you in that ring. The Olympic wrestling will help you guys with slams and shit, and the jujitsu will open up the possibility for some crazy submissions no one will see coming.

Alex: Yeah and jujitsu is all about balance and position, which I think will be very helpful.

Rock: It will be, and again man B can probably teach you any more advanced shit you learn here. Cause I'm pretty sure you have your black belt in jujitsu don’t you man?

Black: Ha ha currently a 6th degree black belt in Brazilian Jujitsu. Though it's not officially recognized, as I am not yet 19. But when I turn so I shall be able to do an official test of my abilities and have my status recognized if I choose to do so. Which if i do it will be to go for my black and red belt.

Rock: Damn man. I sometimes forget how advanced into shit you are.

Black: Ha ha well I learnt from some of the best. And I still keep my training up to this day, as there is always more knowledge that one can attain.

As Black Belt says this Alex takes the roach of the blunt that was passed to him for a third time by Rock And Roll. And after taking a hit from it and exhaling he says.

Alex: Yeah there is. And that’s why we should be getting inside now to attain some of it ha ha. This is done anyway.

Brandon: Ight lets do this.

Alex tosses the roach out of the window and exits the car along with everyone in his and Cameron’s car. They then all head towards the front door of the Adrenaline training center.



[size=200]
Scene Three: This... This is nothing.[/size]

A hour later inside of the adrenaline gym, Alex lies on a bench in the weight room of the gym, his eyes staring at the ceiling his mind focusing not on the exercise but on the music blasting. out of the music being played by the IPhone in his pocket coming though his headphones, as he begins his 9th set of 25 bench presses with the weight set at 180lb. On the left of Alex, Rock and Roll takes a break from the 25rep 550lb sets of squats he’s been doing and reaches for the bottle of cold water he rested on the bench by the wall, he grabs the bottle and quickly gulps it down quenching his thirst. He then looks to his left at the weights holder and grabs two 25lb weights from it, puts one on either side of the bar bell and gets ready to do another 10 sets of 25. But he first looks over to see Alex finishing the last rep in his set and bringing the bar down. As Alex lets go of the bar he looks over to see Rock watching and as he removes his earphones hears Rock say.

Rock: Not bad A not bad at all. Can't wait to see what you’re benching once you beef up.

Alex: Yeah when I get to 150lbs like planned, I'll be able to bench 250 easy but for now I won't be able to get past 200.

Rock: 200 is still pretty damn good, especially for your size A. And it shouldn’t take to long for you to bulk up, if you keep up the training plan and keep drinking the protein shakes you started Monday.

Alex: I know, I'm surprised how good the one you recommended tastes.

Rock: Not like chalk huh?

Alex: Not at all, now stop being lazy and get back to training ha ha.

Rock: Ha ha looks who talking.

Alex and Rock both begin their respective sets. Meanwhile in the cardio area sweat beads run heavily down Cameron Wonders face as he runs on the treadmill his breath heavy and fast as he tries to keep up with Jessica on the treadmill beside him who looks over to him and while running seemingly effortlessly says to him.

Jessica: Ha ha still don’t believe what Alex about me working out hard?

Cameron: This... This is nothing...

Jessica: Really cause It hasn't even been the hour yet, were only going speed 7 and you seam pretty much done.

Cameron: Its nothing.... I can.... Last the hour..

Jessica: The hour of running. Didn’t Alex tell you that after this its is an hour of elliptical then a hour on the bikes?

Cameron: What?

Jessica: Yep, I'm guessing you’re done after this.

Cameron: Fuck yeah, and I'm never gonna rip on A again for not being able to keep up with you at the gym again.

Jessica: He he.

Meanwhile in the mat area UFC fighter and co founder of adrenaline gym Sam Stout watches on as Black belt both do tae kwon doe shadow boxing. Sam approaches and says.

Sam: Are you two Brandon and Black.

Brandon: That is us. You’re Sam Stout aren’t you?

Sam: Yep that’s me....

Brandon: Hold up a sec, can I get your autograph man? I'm a huge UFC fan.

Sam: Yeah, I'll get you one after. But first Mark told me your friends of Alex’s and have been waiting for a instructor to do some private monthly training with.

Brandon: Yeah we are and for some sparring to.

Sam: Yep and you will be, with both each other and me.

Brandon: Holy fuck, sparring with a UFC fighter that’s fucking awesome.

Black: I shall be sitting that part out myself, though another time I would love to test my skills against a truly worthy opponent




[size=200]
Scene Four: Sarge, whats up?[/size]

Moments later back in the weight room the sound of Nas's hero goes off as Alex's cell phone rings and vibrates. He quickly finishes his 25th bench press rep of the now 190lb barbell and sits up on the bench letting out a small grunt as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his IPhone and answers it almost out of breath.

Alex: Hello... Yo how’s it going man, hold on a sec.

Alex gets up and walks over to his black coat on the ground which a king-size pack of number 7s and a lighter rest upon. Alex grabs the lighter and pack in one hand and begins to put on the coat with the other, after getting it on he walks out of the gym through the emergency exit. Once outside he pulls a cigarette from the pack puts it in his mouth and lights it before putting the pack and lighter back in his pocket. He takes a puff and tastes and feels the smoke from the tabbaco enter and moments later leave his lungs as he exhales putting the phone back up to his ear before saying.

Alex: Back Sarge, so what’s up?

The man on the other end answers in a slightly gruff voice, the man is old friend of Alex Mark O’Neill. Or Sarge as Alex has gotten used to calling him. Ex Canadian and American military Mark saw allot of action before being part of a group in the early 90s that later became the original A Team. Now Mark runs a small "security firm" which consists of about 25 people run out of Alberta

Mark: Not a whole lot, things been slow around here. Been talking to Johnny allot and we’ve both been pulling some strings and have made some progress on finding the whereabouts of everyone. How have you been coming along?

Alex: Alright, Nicks holding down the old place at cedar ridge and seeing what he can do there. He's gonna call me with updates as soon as shit happens. How did everyone just drop out of contact anyway?

Mark: Well when you guys left some people stayed with Steve but a lot of us didn’t like his leadership and we all just went our own ways. From what I’ve gathered were scattered all over the place some like me have their own little things going on, some like Jeah do odd jobs, and some have real jobs.


Alex: Fuck man, well I told Nick to try to get in contact with Steve cause he might at least know the rough whereabouts of everyone.

Mark: Yeah I lost touch with Steve two years back but I can see if I can reconnect with him.

Alex: Sounds good man.

Mark: Yeah and hey how’s Nick doing anyway still the same old geeky kid I remember.

Alex: Ha ha yeah he is, and he’s doing alright talked to him a bit last week and he’s holding down the cedar ridge base pretty well for us.

Mark: Nice nice. So how’s your wrestling thing going.

Alex: Alright, I’m actually at the gym right now training. Brandon and I got man handled in our last match, so I figured we need the training,. Get our technique down pat so that we wont be so easy to push around next time, and were gonna bulk up a bit to so we can be the ones doing the pushing

Mark: Nice man, when your next fight anyway man?

Alex: Next week at the Death Row pre show before the pay per view me and Brandon are in a battle royal, it should be a good match.

Mark: Yeah I'll definitely give that Pay Per View a buy, I wanna see you kick the fuck outta people ha ha.

Alex: Ha ha, yeah.

Mark: Yeah but anyway I should let you go now, call me if you get any info, bye man.

Alex: Peace


Alex turns off his phone and puts it in his coat pocket as he finishes his smoke while thinking. Thinking about everyone who was part of the original A Team back when AJ was still alive, and how he can’t wait to find and see them all again. When his smoke burns down close to the filter he takes and flicks it into the parking lot as he walks towards the front entrance of the center. As he walks though the doors he sees and hears a small crowd forming around the octagon. Alex looks at ex UFC fighter Mark Hominnick who is standing at the reception desk, who notices him and says.

Mark: Hey man how’s it going.

Alex: Pretty good man, what’s going on by the octagon.

Mark: Oh your Brandon is gonna take on Sam.

Alex: What! Really?

Mark: Yeah three 5-minute rounds.

Alex: Fuck I gotta see this shit, talk to you in a bit mark.

Mark: Ok bye bud.


Alex starts to walk towards the octagon exited to watch the fight.

Get up, piglet. I not finish with you yet.

The English is bad, and marred by a heavy Russian accent. Even with the trickle of blood obscuring most of his vision, he can see the smirk on the monstrosity’s face, towering above him, waiting for him to rise from the hardened concrete only for the purpose of striking him down again. He grunts audibly, wiping the blood from his eyes and eyeing the mass of flesh and sinew before him warily, not rising, not yet…

You not hear so good? GET UP, PIGLET! I not finish! I NOT FINISH AT ALL!

Loud-mouthed brute. So concerned about trying to break his spirit he doesn’t even realize how open he’s left himself…how utterly fucked he truly is. He pushes himself to one knee, glaring at the monster through icy blue eyes. Before he can respond to the beast, however, another voice rings out through the cold darkness.

You heard Victor, Jordan. Get up and fight.

Boris Mirianov, his trainer….always there to accompany each violent blow with a word of encouragement. At least, what passes for encouragement in this hell-hole. He dares not glance at the old-timer, however, choosing merely to smirk at the sneering death’s head bearing down before him, spit a blood-stained tooth from his maw…and smile.

Come and get me, comrade. Or are you afraid to fight like a man?

His voice echoes over the darkened room, the rich baritone stained only by the slightest hint of sarcasm. The response is just as he expected…a bellow tainted with a mixture of untethered savagery and frustration as he charges forward. So simple-minded. So very predictable…

YOU SHUT UP!

…And predictable means easy to counter. The brute’s charge is easy enough to evade…But evasion isn’t his aim. Not this time. This time when the Russian clod’s massive arm swings forward in a violent haymaker, it finds not Chamberlain’s already battered jawline…but instead is swept into an iron grip. With a single, precision twist, the monstrosity is on the ground, the fullness of his weight crashing down on his square chin, sending a roar of pain from the brute’s lips. He drives the fullness of his weight back, wrenching the meaty limb with all he can muster, the only thought in his mind tearing the appendage from the poor bastard’s socket. He smirks inwardly, almost hearing the tendons snapping as he plants his bare feet as best he can on the wet concrete, driving even more momentum into his foe’s shoulder, causing him to cry out even harder.

I GIVE UP! I GIVE! LET GO! I GIVE, I GIVE!

The poor brute’s pleas for mercy send the smile fading from his features. He was merciful once. He was a good man, an honest man…a man who relented, and was punished for it. Jordan Chamberlain may have had mercy…but the Brutal Legend does not. Mercy is for the weak. Submission is tantamount to failure. He punishes the monstrosity for forgetting this, raining elbow after elbow on the side of his bulbous cranium, each blow more frenzied and violent than the last, until the brute’s head splits wide open, spattering the concrete with crimson. He looses a feral snarl before cinching in the armbar with even more ferocity than previously, his fury meeting pure, orgasmic satisfaction as he hears the tendons starting to rend free of their moorings.

He has submitted, Jordan. You may release him now.

The old man, chiding him again. He smiles up at the old man, speaking loudly enough that he can be heard over the yelps of his foe.

Very well. As you wish, Boris.

And with that, He wrenches back with as much fury as he can muster, planting his feet hard…And hearing the ever satisfying snap as the bone breaks. The monstrous Russian screams in pain, and Chamberlain finally releases his grip, nipping up to his feet as the brute writhes and clutches at his now-deformed limb. He smirks down at the spectacle, splintered bone, tendons rendered useless, the trickle of blood making a rust-colored pool beneath the monstrosity as he writhes and wails in agony. He spits again and cracks his neck, rather pleased with himself…Only to find Boris’ storming toward him, his tired old eyes burning with anger.

I told you to release! He submitted, Jordan!

He shifts his weight, rolling his shoulder slightly, eyeing the old man with suspicion.

No mercy. Isn’t that what you taught me, Boris?

The aging Russian transplant’s fury is palpable as he jabs a finger in his pupil’s chest, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

For opponent, yes! But not for him! Victor is my only son, Mason! How will he make living now?

His eyes widen. The old man is going soft in his old age. He snatches Boris’ hand by the wrist, drawing it away from his chest, his words coming calmly, near a whisper.

If you didn’t want the big son of a bitch to get hurt, you should have trained him better. No remorse, no mercy, that’s what you taught me, right?…And now you’re getting misty-eyed over that fucking ape? You’re getting soft, old man. Tell me this, Boris…where was my mercy? Where were you to save the fucking day when Stanislav was ripping my knee to shreds? Where was fucking mercy then, huh? NOWHERE! No remorse. No mercy. That’s what you taught me. Kill or be killed, right? He fought. I fought harder. He wasn’t good enough, and I broke him. Survival of the fittest, Boris. That’s his fault. That’s YOUR fault. Not mine.”

The old man jerks his hand away, eyeing his pupil bitterly.

It is time you left. We are finished here.

He turns away then, going to tend his son. Jordan can only smirk slightly, turn and walk away…

*DEE-DEE-DEE-DEE-DEET*

The furious bleating of a his cellular phone snaps him from his dreaming. He bolts upright, shaking his head slightly…Oh well. Best to leave the old times behind anyway. Fumbling a bit in the darkness, he finds the phone and flips it open.

Go.

Your flight is booked. You leave first thing Wednesday morning.

Glen Wallace. His…handler, so to speak. Boris put the two in touch upon the fall of the IWC, and Wallace has been in charge of Mason’s career ever since. He sneers slightly, brushing his hair back out of his face.

Good.

Are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean…it’s so…beneath you. We could get you a big money deal somewhere else. Give you a few months to train, bring you in ri---

No. This is the place. It’s ripe for the picking…This is where the Legend begins.

His voice is dripping with latent fury, hidden underneath a demeanor of callous frostiness. Opening the card against some unworthy, unimportant scrubs. Mouthy little shits so wrapped up in their own accomplishments they can’t even imagine what’s coming. Men who couldn’t possibly imagine what it takes to be the best. Stains on the fabric of life who will never know what it means to be elite… to be a champion.

“If you say so, Jordan. I just want to make sure you’re ready for this.”

For the first time, Jordan Chamberlain’s face betrays a slight smirk. No mercy. No remorse. The Apex Athlete is dead.

Time for the Brutal Legend to be born.

I’m always ready.

-fin-

The Big Ugly Guy walks into Bob Babaganoosh’s room. Bob is doing work on his laptop. Bob then looks up to see The Big Ugly Guy standing before his desk.

Bob: Good win last week. I knew your team could pull it off. Hopefully, you will know move closer to what I want you to become. What you should become. An unstoppable monster.

Bug: That’s not what I want to become though. I don’t want to be a monster.

Bob: You already have the look of a monster. Just accept your fate and you can become one of the greats.

Bug: I DON’T WANT TO ACCEPT THAT FATE. It’s not who I want to be. I’m accepted by fans all over the world. I’ve become a fan favorite. People love me. That’s what I want. I want to be loved.

Bob: You may be loved, but the people don’t respect you. They still see you as a monster. They may have seen some of your movies or commercials, but they still don’t respect you. All you will ever be to these people is a joke. You will never get any respect. The only way to earn their respect is to just start annihilating everyone you face. Awaken that killer instinct.

Bug: I don’t have a killer instinct. I like being a good guy. You are wrong. I am respected. I believe the fans do respect me. Some of the other wrestlers also respect you.

Bob: Did your old tag team partner respect you?

Bug: I think he did at one point. I’m not sure what happened to him though.

Bob: He became jealous of your talent. Butters was always costing your team the matches. He would always screw up the match. You were the reason that your team even had some success. You carried him. Butters is nothing but a failure.

Bug: Do you really think I carried that team?

Bob: Of course you did. You were the heart of the team. You had the power in the team. He may have had some speed but you still were the team.

Bug: Why do you think he turned on me though?

Bob: I already said he was jealous. He realized what kind of potential that you had. He knew that you could become a star while his career would fail. The only thing he could possibly do was attack you and try to stall your success. That’s what he did and now Butters will pay for his mistake. You will put an end to Butters once and for all.

Bug: I don’t think I could just go out there and end his career.

Bob: You can if you become a monster. Give into the killer inside of you. Think about all the wins you could have if not for Butters. Think about the titles you could have possibly had. You could have been on the real Death Row show and not the Pre-Show.

Bug: I guess that I can see your point.

Bob: Butters is what I always said he was. He is a born loser. He will never be anything more than a failure. I said this to you when you first started teaming with him. If only you would have listened to me back then. You would have avoided all the problems that you have to deal with now. You didn’t believe me though. You said Butters was a good guy that could be trusted. Do you trust him now? After he attacked you?

Bug: No, I don’t trust him anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you either. I made a mistake and I paid for it.

Bob: How angry does it make you that he turned on you?

Bug: I guess it does make me pretty angry. It won’t make me turn on my fans though. I won’t become the monster that you want to see. I can’t become that person. I don’t have it in me.

Bob: You do have it in you. You just don’t know it yet.

Bug: It won’t happen. Stop trying to make it happen. Maybe if it does happen, I’ll take my anger out on you.

Bob: I’d love that. Go for it. Try and attack me.

Bug: No, I know what you are doing. I’ve seen Return of the Jedi. You are acting just like the Emperor. You are trying to turn me to the dark side. You won’t turn me though. I’m a good guy and I’m proud of it. I love hearing the fans chant my name. That’s what really brings me to life. Not your stupid technology. The fans who love me. The fans who I believe to respect me.

Bob: Keep telling yourself that. You can fight all you want but you will become the monster the fans really want to see. Only then will you gain the full respect of all the fans and most importantly all your peers.

Bug: I’m tired of this. I don’t want to hear this anymore. I’m going to go to the Death Row Pre Show and I will put on a great performance. It doesn’t matter if I win or I lose. I will know that I put on a show and entertained the fans. That’s what I’m going to do.

Bob: Good luck with that.

Bug: That’s how it’s going down and nothing can change that. I’m heading out. Our conversation is over.

The Big Ugly Guy heads toward the door.

Bob: You will destroy Butters. You will become the monster. I promise that will happen.

Bug: I SAID THIS CONVERSATION WAS OVER.

The Big Ugly Guy in his anger kicks the door off its hinges. He leaves in a rage.

Bob: That’s what I want to see.

Bob picks up his phone

Bob: Can you get somebody over here to get me a new door?

Bob hangs up the phone and starts laughing as the scene ends

[size=200]Scene One: Are you ready? Are you ready?[/size]


A week before Death Row Brandon finds himself inside of the change room at Adrenaline training center in london ontario, hearing the faint sound of a crowd building outside and looking into a mirror above a sink gazing at his own reflection. He looks down for a moment as he turns on the taps of the sink and as he looks back up he catches his eyes looking back at him from under his glasses slightly reddened from the blunt he smoked less then a hour before. With this he takes off his glasses as he always does before a fight, seeing as its both dangerous not to and as he doesn't need to wear them other then for the fact that one of his eyes is slightly weaker then the other due to astigmatism. He rests his glasses on the sink as he puts his hands in the pool of developing water and picking some up splashes some in his face before turning off the taps and removing the plug from the sink. He then takes off stands up strait and pulls of it shirt then picking up his glasses walks over to a bench where he rests both them and his shirt before putting on his new black and green MMA Gloves which he bought at the Gyms equipment store when they all got there a hour before, which were laying in wait on the bench. He then walks out of the change room and the moment he exits he sees both the Octagon and the crowd surrounding it and as he walks towards the octagon he scans the crowd as he thinks to himself.


"I wonder if Alex is back in from that call, he cant miss this. Me fighting A UFC fighter. This is going to be fucking dope!"


As he approaches the octagon he sees Rock And Roll, Black Belt, Cameron Wonders and Holding , Alex's girlfriend Jessica and finally beside her his best friend Alex Macey all standing by the cage door. And inside that same cage his opponent UFC fighter Sam "Hands Of Stone" Stout, who at least to Brandon seams to be staring him down which causes Brandon to get slightly nervous about the fight, something that is extremely rare for Brandon but something that has been happening to him allot recently though he cant figer out why. Luckily the feeling of nervousness is diminished tremendously when he approaches the door and hears Alex say to him.


Alex: Yo B,we all got some advise for you.

Brandon: Shoot.

Alex: Well I know Sam, hes gonna try to keep this stand up and knock you out, He's gonna underestimate you, I talked to him for a min when I came in he's still surprised you wanted to have a real fight and not just spar in ring.

Brandon: Well duh I don't want any fucking protective equipment, I cant fight with that shit on.

Alex: Ha ha I know, and so yeah my advise is shock him completely leave him with no time to really react. Go hard, go strong, and go unexpected. Use all your energy and aggression if you have to and treat the octagon like it was a cage match because other then the ropes and turnbuckles being gone along with the leaving the cage wins thing , everything else is the exact same including the shit you can do in there..... There aint no rule against a powerbomb in MMA now is there?

Brandon: Ha ha I don't think there is A. And I get what your saying, do whats least expected.

Alex: Exactly. Now take him out bro.

Brandon: I will.

Cam: Yo another thing B, you have this match man, just whatever you do don't let him get on top of you.

Black: Cameron is right, his knowledge in jujitsu makes him a very dangerous opponent on the ground.

Brandon: I wrestle for a living and I did amateur wrestling for 2 years, I am to.

Black: That you are but just as Tae Kwon Doe and Karate are two different styles of fighting, your style on the ground are both greatly different. Where you use force and power to subdue your opponent, he uses power balance and technique. Remember that when you are in there and also remember that as aggression is all well heart and focus are the key.

Brandon: Well I have the heart.

Black: You do Brandon, though you sometimes lack the focus.

Rock: What Black means is don't underestimate your opponent.... Its like when me and you fought. If you didn't think I was done, you would of probably won that but you turned your back and boom. So in this fight, make sure you don't turn your back.

Brandon: I won't. Now before I go in there any other words of wisdom from anyone?

Alex: Yeah, show him how its done in Tdot. *Hugs Brandon and gives him a pat on the back* And show him that his shits weak.... His shits WEAK.

Everyone: WIZZY!!

Brandon then enters the octagon stepping into the middle of the cage where his opponent Sam and acting ref Chris Hodinkie stand.



[size=200]Scene Two: FIGHT![/size]


Brandon and Sam stare at each other for a moment before they bump gloves, ref Chris Hodinkie then says.

Chris: Are you ready? Are you ready? FIGHT!

Sam steps into Brandon throwing a left jab which Brandon dodges throwing a low right kick which connects to Sam's leg. Brandon then rushes at Sam and jumps knocking him down with a flying cross body landing right in position to gain side control, which Brandon does and starts throwing shots at Sam's face but Sam using his hips manages to get Brandon in his full guard and grabs Brandon's head pulling it down. Brandon tries to blindly wail at Sam but to no avail as Sam grabs Brandon's right arm and flips him he almost has a armbar but Brandon quickly utilizes his strength and gets up picking Sam up with his arm then slams him down on the mat where he starts to stomp Sam who catches his leg and trips him. Both men quickly get on there feet and Brandon goes to grapple Sam who is careful not to let him get the double underhooks, but the hooks are not needed by Brandon who axe handles Sam and gets him between his knees then lifts him up and shows him "High Times". Brandon quickly gets on top of Sam and throws a barrage of fists and elbows to his face, but Sam manages to flip Brandon by grabbing and controlling Brandon's left arm using the now lack of balance Brandon has to flip him. Once ontop Sam throws some his own shots at Brandon who tries to cover his face but in doing so opens him up perfectly for a kamora which Sam doesn't hesitate to try for. Luckily for Brandon though Alex had taught him this move months before and as soon as Sam goes for it Brandon stops him flipping him and getting off of him. As both men get back on their feet Sam throws a high kick which connects to Brandon's head causing him to bend down hurt. And as Samm right fist approaches Brandon's face he blocks it with his own arm and sends a fist right into Sams gut winding him for a second. But a second is all Brandon needs as he kicks Sam in the gut before pulling off his finisher The B.A. Buster knocking Sam right out. Chris awards the match to Brandon and says.


Chris: And the winner of this contest Brandon "Fucking" Allain.

The crowd cheers and as Brandon exits the octagon going he feels all the members of The A Team pat him on the back and hears them all congratulate him, as he thinks to himself what a amazing thing to come off of as Death row approaches.

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Paris, France
15 years ago


Simon loved playing outside. The noises; cars going by, honking their horns when Simon kicked the futbol into the road and chatter from other kids across the street; on this particular early fall day, a scrawny kid from across the street, came over to play with Simon. Having seen him before, Simon knew he was a few years younger then himself. He knew this, because the kid didn’t leave for school when he did. So, he must have left after on the bus that used to take Simon to entry level school. As the kid approached, he waved happily at Simon.

Kid: Hiya, Simon. Can I play footy wit ya?

Not sure how the kid knew his name, Simon shrugged and asked the obvious question.

Simon: Sure. But how’d you know my name?

The kid looked at Simon like he had asked him why the Eiffel tower was called the Eiffel tower.

Kid: Huh? Your name is on your futbol. See, its right there

The kid pointed at Simon’s futbol and sure enough, Simon’s name was written on it. Simon laughed as he just now remembered that he had written his name on his futbol because he had lost several before.

Simon: Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Anyway, we can play futbol. Now, go over there

Pointing at the two cones at the far end of his yard, Simon explained the game to the kid. The kid ran over and stood between the two cones.

Simon: Ok, were gonna play penalty kicks. I’ll go first. Whoever scores five goals, wins, ok?

The kid smiled, clapped his hands together and he excitedly shouted at Simon.

Kid: Bring it on, Simon! No way you get a ball by me!

Simon just smirked at the kid’s remark. Simon played a lot of futbol and he thought he was very good. As he placed the futbol ten feet away from the goal, Simon thought with a grin; “This is gonna be too easy.”

L.A., California
Present Day

“Why is it so cold out today? I asked Fran. Looking at me strangely, Fran shrugged.

Fran: Maybe cause it’s December and you have the window down?

I looked at Fran and grinned at him.

“Such a know it all, you know that?" Even still, I rolled up my window. I was so glad to see Fran again, he always set me straight and I even gave him a job. I looked at him and I pointed at the Camera.

“We should probably tape a promo for my match at Death Row” Fran laughed and I gave him a dark look.

Fran: You’re only on the pre show, Simon.

I did not care that I was only on the pre show, it was my chance to make an impact and I wasn’t gonna pass up the opportunity.

“That’s not the point, Fran. I can show everyone that I belong on the main show if I have a good performance tonight. Now, start rolling the camera.”

Finally, Fran nodded and turned on the camera. I saw him point at me and as I started to speak, I spotted the Staples Center.

“The Staples center, home to the champion Lakers. Also, this year, the Staples Center is home to FMW’s PPV called ‘Death Row’. No, I’m not on the Death Row card, but I’m on the preshow and I’ve goal at Death Row this year.”

I paused for a moment, to fully be engrossed in my character. Then I quietly continued.

“Simon says he will steal the Show. Simon says he doesn’t care if he wins, all he cares about tonight, is to be remembered. Simon says that most likely whoever wins this battle royal tonight, will be lucky to do so. Simon says that he won’t even tell you his opponent’s names, because after tonight, no matter who wins, all anybody will be talking about is.”

Seeing that the road ahead was clear, I turned my head to the camera and Spoke with conviction.

“SIMON SHELDON!”

Paris, France
15 Years Ago

Forty Minutes had passed since the kid came over and Simon had learned two things. One, at lunch, Simon found out the kid’s name was Francis. Two, was that Francis or like he told Simon’s mother that he likes to be called Fran, was good a futbol. So good, that as Simon set the ball down; he was only up four to three. Fran had been able to stop Simon when he kicked to the right, so as Simon started to advance on the ball, he tried to kick the ball to the left. Once the ball left his foot though, Simon realized with a groan, that he kicked it too left. Fran jumped up and down as he realized he could tie it with the next goal.

Fran: Yay! You’re going down Simon.

Simon watched with despair as Fran went to go get the ball. The ball had trickled out into the street and Simon could barely see it. He looked at Fran, who didn’t look to see if there were any cars coming and he raced after the ball. Simon decided to walk to the cones and wait for Fran to come back, When Simon heard a car horn. Simon turned his head just out of curiosity and what he saw shocked him. A car came into view, but instead of continuing on, the car was stopped and Simon saw the driver scramble out. Simon watched the older man’s face and he looked where the man was looking. That’s when Simon saw Fran. He was lying on the ground, blood pouring out of his head and Simon freaked out.

Simon: MOM! HELP!

Screaming in terror, Simon’s mother came out in a flash. At first, she looked at her son and then she saw Fran. As she got closer to Fran, she knew it was bad and she shouted at her son, who was beginning to go into shock.

Maria: Simon, Go call for an ambulance! Go!

When his mother first shouted to him, Simon didn’t move, but the second shout, moved him and he ran into the house.

L.A., California
Present Day

Pushing a Grocery cart full of cans, Brian Ryker looked like the millions of Los angles homeless people, but appearances can be deceiving. He was actually a Los angles state worker for the L.A. Mental Ward. He had been following a patient, who had escaped earlier this month and now he thought he could bring him in. The patient was sitting at a bus bench, furiously talking to someone. Course, Brian saw no one else there, but he knew who the patient was talking to.

As the patient stood, Brian ducked his head. If the patient saw him, he might freak, but the patient didn’t turn around, he instead, started to walk to the Staple center across the street. Luckily, the street was not busy or Brian would have had to intervene. Even still, Brian was now sure, that the patient needed to be brought back in. So, Brian fished out his cell phone and dialed his boss’s number. As he waited, he watched as the patient entered the Staples center.

Dr. Banks: Hello, Dr. Banks Speaking, who’s this?

Brian: Dr. Banks, its Brian Ryker. I’ve seen the runaway, I think he needs to be brought in.

Dr. Banks: Who’s that, Brian?

Brian: Simon. He’s been talking to Fran again and he’s at the staple center competing in FMW right now.

Brain could hear Dr. Banks sigh over the phone.

Dr. Banks: Ok, Brian Here’s what you do…

After he listened to his instructions, Brian closed his cell and got his taser ready for later that night.

Fade in.



As the scene opens, we see in the background the beautiful skyline of Toronto, Ontario. Late in the afternoon, the sun hangs low in the sky, perched slightly above the horizon. The first signs of twilight have become manifest, filling the metropolitan city with an eerie backdrop that complements the frigid atmosphere in such a way so as to create a tense, tantalizing sensation.

It's a busy city, though the people here are polite and rather humble. They go to Church, children attend school and residents follow the storied Toronto Maple Leafs. A sense of higher culture is hardly lacking, however, as there are numerous theaters, art galleries and museums.

Toronto is also home to more than a mere handful of successful athletes, perhaps none more decorated than the one we're about to encounter.

Finally, we see the emergence of a man who has carved out a rather unique identity for himself in the world of professional wrestling. As usual, he is sharply dressed, sporting a pair of green-tinted sunglasses that conceal his fierce green eyes. What sets him apart, of course, is that he has the disposition of a warrior tempered by a certain blend of calmness, swagger, poise and sense of style that almost seem out of place in the world of professional wrestling.

As the camera focuses in on his tall, well-sculpted frame – an impressive sight, no doubt – he takes a moment to gently brush his long hair out his face.

The most captivating thing he possessed, however, was not his frame or his muscles but an aura that made him distinguished. Clearly, this man was not your typical professional wrestler. It had quickly become obvious that the man standing before the camera possessed a degree of depth, spirit and intellect that made him different from others.

Whether inside the ring or out of it, he alone is in control of his world, in charge of determine his morality and imposing his will upon his surroundings.

As he prepares to make his FMW debut, a need to overwhelm the heap of lackluster competitors standing in his path consumes him, though he does well to remain disciplined and firmly in control of himself.

At last, he meets up with an interviewer and begins his address.


All right. Let's start with the obvious...

Perhaps it should be noted that I have quite an impressive track-record in over-the-top battle royals, having won a thirty man battle royal in a once prominent wrestling organization that was known as wCw and outlasted an entire roster full of people wanting to toss me out, save the Champion, in my home federation, the WWF.

The self-proclaimed MVP will be making his FMW debut in an eight-person battle royal. Now, I can go the predictable route and ramble of about how none of the other competitors belongs in a ring with me, calling each of them generic names such as "jabroni" and "meathead"... however, that wouldn't really make me any different than any of the insipid, uninspiring and, let's face it, hackneyed, one-dimensional and plain boring competitors involved, wouldn’t it?

To pretend to have significant knowledge of the other competitors involved would be dishonest. Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for scouting and knowing my enemies inside and out. However, in a situation such as this, it’s more important to use your head and pick your spots than to try to focus on exploiting possible weaknesses other competitors may have. Once the blood starts flowing, I’m sure I will as well.

So.. What makes me different than anyone else involved?

First, I would be willing to bet there isn't a wrestler in this match that has achieved even a fraction of the accolades I have achieved in the world of professional wrestling. Furthermore, I am confident that my resourcefulness, cunning and superior conditioning and athleticism will provide me with a significant edge in such a chaotic and volatile environment. Finally, when I signed, I did not sign to become a second or third-tier calibre competitor in this company. My victory here will not only be satisfying but also very convincing and it will mark the beginning of a new era in FMW...

In front of a foreign crowd; in a new company; stepping onto a hostile, unfamiliar territory; numerous competitors vying to send me over the type rope - exactly the type of scenario I thrive in...

...You'll soon get to enjoy the privilege of witnessing a man hot enough to make you drool, well-versed in taking bitches to school...



...Because that's just how I roll.

-Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

-Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter
Since I haven't seen any promos from any of these guys I'm gonna remain silent on this one.

Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper
Note: Ripper is a close second. Also really enjoyed Arrow and Macey's promos. Good job to those who showed.

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

-Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter


ALSO... we'll run down the big matches at Death Row and speak with the superstars involved!

PROMO ONLY until Friday, December 4 at 11:59 PM EST. VOTING & PROMO (with penalty) until Thursday, December 10 at 11:59 PM EST.

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey

Singles Match:
Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
Koldan Izmaylov

-Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

-Death Row pre-game show LIVE from Los Angeles, California-
Tonight's Card:

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper

Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Future Stars Over-The-Top Rope Battle Royal:
Alex Macey vs. Brandon Allain vs. Simon Sheldon vs. Steve Monroe vs. TJ Tilli vs. MC Steel vs. Jordan Chamberlain vs. Arrow the MVP vs. Ripper


Singles Match:
Alistair Wolfe vs. Joe Michaels
Gonna kill you, Dyl.

Grudge Match:
Butters vs. Big Ugly Guy (w/ Bob Babaganoosh)

MAIN EVENT, Ammunition vs. Distortion vs. Corruption:
The Technician vs. Koldan Izmaylov vs. Calvin X. Carter

Alistair is walking down the street with Vincent Baroni, listening intently as Baroni talks, revealing things Alistair never thought could exist.

Vampires? Seriously? There is actually a vampire race?

Baroni: Yeah, it's true. There is an entire race out there, spread out across the world.

So, who leads the whole race?

Baroni: No one.

Seriously? There is no leadership?

The two continue to walk, garnering stares from several passerby at their pale complexions. Baroni looks back to make sure they are not following, and turns back to Alistair.

Baroni: No, there isn't. Well, at least not here in the United States. Elsewhere, places like Asia and Europe, they are strictly led and controlled. The Covenant leads in Asia, while Eterna Notte lead in Europe. We have never had leadership though. Nothing but fighting over who should lead.

Baroni turns the corner, and motions to Alistair to follow him into an establishment highlighted by multi-colored neon signs.

Where are we going? This is a bar.

Baroni: Above ground, it might be a human bar, but below, it's a vampire haunt. It's the only place I can safely explain everything to you.

The two push their way through to the back of the establishment, and arrive at a door barricaded by a very big, very pale guard.

Guard: Hey Baroni, your good, but who the fuck is this?

Baroni: This is Alistair Wolfe. He is new.

In a motion Wolfe would never have caught as a human, Baroni winks at the guard, and he shuffles over and lets them in. They go down several flights of stairs before arriving at a door. Baroni opens it, and the two enter a dark room, with red strobe lights pulsing all over the place. The lights react oddly with the skin of the patrons all over the room. A light crosses Alistair's skin, and he see's an odd color form, not like any color he has ever seen. The two continue walking, and they enter a section cut off by rope. Baroni steps in, and allows Alistair to enter. They sit down at a table, and Baroni orders two deer bloods.

We can't just have beers?

Baroni: Idiot, we can't drink or eat. The only think we can ingest is blood. Human or animal, it doesn't matter, both work, although human blood does make one stronger.

For real?

Baroni: No, I'm just shitting you... of course I'm for real!

Wow, chill man. Anyhow, what is it you needed to tell me that you couldn't tell me in the living world?

Baroni looks around, and then looks back at Wolfe.

Baroni: Kid, this world is big. In the U.S. Alone, there are three groups. The Liberators, the Traditionalists and the Stalkers. The Traditionalists, they just want to be left alone. They want nothing to do with the outside world. They oppose both the Liberators and the Stalkers. The Liberators are freedom fighters, or so they claim. They want to... come out of the coffin, so to speak. They want to expose our existence to humanity. Then, there is the Stalkers. These guys keep both the Traditionalists and the Liberators in line. When one gets too loud, the Stalkers step in and make that person “disappear”.

Disappear?

Baroni: Yes, disappear. More often then not, they are just killed. Sometimes, they are given second chances, but that is extremely rare. The Stalkers do not give second chances.

How would you know?

Baroni: Because I am a Stalker. And I've come to you with an offer.

Oh? Join or die?

Baroni: No, you don't have to join us if you don't want. But know this. If you become a Liberator or Traditionalist, you will be my enemy. If you speak up, I will hunt you down without a thought. Before you choose, do you have any questions?

Wooden stake?

Baroni: Myth.

Garlic?

Baroni: Myth.

No reflection?

Baroni: Fact.

Holy water?

Baroni: Fact.

Wolfe cringes, then looks as the waitress bring the deer bloods. He takes his glass, and as he looks into it, he sees that he indeed has no reflection. He takes a sip of the blood, and immediately notices the sweet, tangy taste. He looks around the bar, and his eyes rest on one older looking vampire sitting at the bar. He eyes the vampire curiously, then looks back at Baroni.

I thought vampires don't age.

Baroni: We don't. We're stuck in time, in whatever form we were turned in forever.

Then why does that guy look all old and shit? Who is he?

Baroni follows Alistair's gaze, and his eyes settle on the vampire. His expression becomes on of disgust, and he pauses, making it apparent he doesn't want to answer.

Baroni: That's... well... that's Dracula.

What?!? For real? Fucking Dracula? Why does he like all old and shrivelled up?

Baroni: Cocaine's a bitch.

Cocaine? I thought we couldn't ingest stuff like that.

Baroni: Funny enough, human drugs are the only thing vampires can do. And because of our heightened senses, that shit fucks us up even more then it does humans.

Wow. That is pretty insane. Anyway man, it's been real, but I need to jet, I have a pay per view match at FMW Death Row.

Baroni: Wait a second. What about your allegiance?

I'll think about it later. Right now, I need to focus on beating my opponent, Joe Michaels.

Baroni: All right man, I'll be watching, get the W. But. Make sure that under no circumstances does anyone find out about what you are. Now, go kick some ass.

Shall do. Take care.

Alistair walks towards the door, already mentally prepping himself for his upcoming war with Joe Michaels. As he walks out, the doorman puts his arm out to stop him.

Guard: Hold on. I just want to let you know that from now on, you are welcome to come here unescorted.

Why did I have to be escorted the first time?

Guard: Because, we were afraid that as a wrestler, the combination with the vampire gene might cause you to freak out. However, it is apparent that you are quite controlled, so it's fine now.

What was that wink from Baroni all about?

Guard: You are valued. You could be valuable to all three groups. The Stalkers wanted to make sure they got to you first.

Alright. Take care man.

Guard: Peace.

Alistair continues off, preparing mentally for the match ahead with Joe Michaels.