Uprising Promo Thread

[kingclutch]

* Clutch McCloud is rewatching Jerry def. Bobby O...right at the count of three is when Clutch starts talking*

CM: *claps* My man! A big congrats to Jerry Bishop. I know we've had our clashes in the past, but good for you getting a shot at Jace.

*Clutch smirks*

But I want to take a moment to talk about the REAL MVP of this tournament. Not Jerry, as great as his performance was. Not Aaron who put in a valiant effort despite injury. Not Bobby who finally almost seems willing to step out from Randal's shadow. *chuckles* No, it was me everyone! If Jerry and the FPW fans want someone to thank for why The Joker is the number 1 contender: thank me. Had I not beaten the holy piss out of Aaron Williams, it would probably have been him in the title match against Jace and who wants to see that again? *chuckles again* Don't worry, I'm just shooting the shit. And I know that The Eternal Student is going to get a lesson in pain with the back of your hand, Jerry. *takes a brief pause* What I really want to talk about is MY upcoming title match at Uprising. Yes, the man you have all shuffled to the side and dismissed because he doesn't look like everyone else and he doesn't ACT like everyone else. But now the premiere TarHEEL will take down your great golden god, Botiatus. I might only be 1-2 against Botiatus but the only "1" that is going to matter is in two weeks when I take the FPW Freedom Championship. Because two things are going to happen: 1. I will beat you, and punishment for every strike you have ever laid on a woman will rain down on you and 2. FPW will have a new hero as I hold that belt high. Because after that, I can't be pushed aside anymore: not by commentary, not by the people in the back, and sure as hell not by Jim Houston.

*the look on Clutch's face has changed to scorn*

Don't get me wrong Jerry....I hope you beat Jace Mason at Uprising. But I hope you and everyone knows...whoever wins that match...I'm coming for ya.

*Clutch quickly turns off the video*

[The_Aviator_GB]

"So, this is how it all starts, right?"



Robert D. Jackson's voiceover is heard as he goes flicks the lights on in a rather spacious gym. He whistles as he swings keys around on a large key-ring, unlocking a few other doors and flicking lights on. He goes through an obvious morning routine-setting a speaker on, turning some televisions on, and doing some brief cleaning-before he changes out of a uniform bearing the gym's logo and into a set of exercise clothing. He stretches in the bathroom, while checking the conditions of every stall and mirror, before his voice picks back up.



"I couldn't deny the fact that I missed wrestling-how could I? I was really, really fucking good at it, man. I started young, an advantage I held over a lot of other people, but it was more than that. Coaches from my youngest ages called me a prodigy, they called me a mat god. I kept with it through middle school, and into high school, leading my team to championship after championship. Sure, I liked the studies, too-I can credit that with giving me a degree that doesn't have much use anymore-but my heart always sat on the mats, no matter how fucking gross and grimy they got. I was never more at home anywhere else than I was throwing someone else to the ground and holding their shoulders down."



We return to Jackson checking his watch, before he sets a timer on his phone. We see the seconds tick down as he plugs his headphones in, and begins working out. A notebook details his regiment for the day, with a large underlined LEG DAY at the top. Jackson switches his music on, and the tunes flow through his ears, echoing out to the scene and adding to the voiceover as he begins grinding away. Machine after machine, the natural strength of the Prodigy is incredible on display.



"I got a scholarship to college for my talent-as was expected-and I was almost immediately starting off for my team. I'd kept my pedigree up, I'd trained, I kept my weight where I wanted to so that I could remain competitive without fucking starving myself. I ate clean, I didn't drink, didn't smoke, nothing. I'd kept myself away from girls and from friends so that I could keep in peak physical condition, so I could give more of myself to this sport than I had anything else in my life. Freshman year was ace, and I was netting wins left and right. Insurmountable, not a giant on the ground but a technician nonetheless. Thought I'd keep it running through all four years, but come Sophomore year, things changed."



We see, as Jackson sits up from a leg press, a notable scar on his lower back. He runs his hands along it, and grimaces as he heads to the next machine. His timer ticks down to 30 minutes remaining, and he continues working out.



"Couldn't have seen it coming-no one did. With a broken back, I wasn't able to do much walking, let alone wrestling. The team promised they'd carry my spirit to the finals, let me ride along with them, but man, it felt like a fuckin' memorial service. I drifted away from them, I found a girl, I ate less clean, I had a beer now and then, and I delved into my studies. A bachelor in three turned into a masters in five, and I thought I was set. I hated watching the damn sport, so I figured, like most traumatic moments, I was well and truly over it. I tried giving professional wrestling a watch one night at a friend's place, but how flashy it was, even watching the mat-based motherfuckers get dropped by some dude throwing a kick or throwing himself from the top rope, it bugged me. I knew I could be out there in this boom period, making some money as the pain in my back subsided, but I couldn't bring myself to it.



In a way, I think I was just denying the inevitable. There's no adult male wrestling teams that are worth the time, and NCAA's not gonna let some 25 year old with a sob story go compete for their old college, y'know? I had to get over it, but I just couldn't."



We see Jackson sit up from his workout as his timer ticks down to zero. He quickly changes into his uniform and heads into the back offices as an employee comes in to man the front desk. The two exchange a cordial greeting as he counts a till, but noticeably, we see a collection of tapes and DVD's accumulating on Jackson's desk. A brief examination of the titles contains many familiar names-MDE, Baker, Bryan, Sabre-but they look largely untouched. Jackson closes the till, and glances up at the pile, but instead of touching it, he instead opens his email. He scrolls back page after page after page, before finding an email dated February 23rd, 2019.



He reads it over again. And again. And again. He sits solemnly as someone brings him a cup of coffee, and he nods, before closing the door as they leave.



"FPW reached out to me for the first time just over a year ago. Jim Houston liked what he'd seen, as had many others. At the time, I let them pass into the spam folder like all those other sponsorships and mentorships did, but I found myself looking at them more and more. Every day, after I managed to just barely squeeze a workout in before my managing shift started, I wondered what it would be like to not have to squeeze that in. To be able to focus my entire time and my entire body on getting better, on being more fit, on getting back in ring shape. It seemed like a fantasy to me, unreal, even that FPW would accept me seemed like a long-way off. I wouldn't fit their mold-the striking, the kicks, all that. I was no good in a fight-hell, all I knew how to do was toss a man around and slam him to the mat ‘til he stopped getting up.



But, nonetheless, I had to try. I knew my job was dead-end, my degree wasn’t going to get me anything, and despite not loving the sport, it was a better paycheck than anything I’d get anywhere else.”



We see Jackson open the email from Jim Houston, and begin typing. He stops a few times, looking to rephrase, before sighing and muttering ‘fuck it’. He writes out his message, takes a moment to look it over, and clicks ‘send’.



“Truth be told, I didn’t expect a response. Figured the offer had expired a long time ago, you know? After all, you can’t sit on something like that and forget about it for too long without expecting them to move on.”



Jackson’s about to close his email and check the floor, when suddenly, the computer beams back with another message. He reads it over, and his eyes widen.

“But, they did.”



-



A few days later, we see Jackson drafting out a notice before leaving it on the desk of one of his higher-ups, talking to the man briefly and shaking his hand before leaving. He hops in his car and heads back to his sparse apartment, tossing his uniform shirt in the garbage before packing his bags. He and his girlfriend share a quick embrace before he grabs his keys and heads out.



We see views of Jackson’s road-trip from Missouri to Tampa, Florida for Wrestlemania weekend, while his voiceover continues.



“I didn’t really know what I was doing, to be completely honest. To burn away all the bridges of the past after a few conversations and loose promises, I kinda figured it was stupid. My girlfriend was, at the least, supportive and willing to move, and the sizable signing bonus that Houston had offered me was one that would rent me a nice single bedroom spot in Chicago for a few months, at least. In a way, I considered turning back multiple times, saying ‘fuck it’ and telling Houston I was sorry for wasting his time, but...something in me drove me forward.



It’s like I said-I never innately liked professional wrestling, but I still had that fire burning in my heart. I still had that desire pushing forward, to get back on the mat and really grapple with and tussle again. It was something that, despite trying to bury it, had never really gone away.”



Jackson arrives in Tampa, and grabs his duffle bag as he heads into a local wrestling gym. He shakes hands with the owner, and the two exchange words, before Jackson drops his bag and gets changed into his gear. He gets in the ring with one of the veteran wrestlers at the gym, and a practice ref rings the bell.



Immediately, the man goes for a lockup, but Jackson’s able to maintain control and turn it around into a waistlock, which he transitions into a headlock and further into a side headlock takeover. He plants the man on his back, and goes for a pin, but he can’t quite keep the man down. He rolls to his base, and the man goes for a lariat which catches Jackson off guard. The man dives to cover Jackson, but Jackson gets a shoulder up. He rubs his neck from the impact of the lariat as the man looks for a running kick, beaming Jackson in the skull and almost dropping him for three, but Jackson gets back to his feet. He signals for the man to come on one more time.



“It was a lot more painful than the ol’ mat wrestling, but I think I was getting the hang of it faster than they expected.”



The veteran feints a kick and goes for a back elbow, but Jackson catches him into an armdrag and slams him into the mat. He keeps a hold on the man as he grabs his legs and pulls him in for a prawn hold, but the man escapes. He looks for another kick, but Jackson grabs his leg and gets him in a waistlock for a two-leg takedown. He grabs the man’s arms from behind and plants him with a Backslide Driver into a pin, running in place to put more leverage down as he holds the man down for a three-count.



Jackson sits up, sweat beaming on his forehead as the vet shakes his hand. The owner of the gym talks to Jackson briefly, and the two set up a brief arrangement. We cut through a series of practice matches with Jackson and other trainees and veterans, Jackson running through them quicker and quicker as time goes on. He perfects his drags, his tosses, his suplexes, sweeps, headlocks, all forms of maneuvers, before facing off against the first veteran again. He catches the man with an arm-drag, followed up by another as he keeps wrist control, before grabbing both wrists and rolling the man through into an improvised O’Connor for another pin.



“Yeah, I think I can get the hang of this.”



-



We flash cut forward through the backstage video shown of Jackson leaving Houston’s office and interacting with MDE, before we cut to an image of Jackson sitting on a bench in a locker room. He’s drenched with sweat, clearly fresh off of a workout.



“MDE, you are, as they say, ‘not good people.’” Jackson chuckles as he continues. “You had a rather thoughtful offer, but unfortunately, I’m not here to make a living off of bullying others and treating them like shit just because I know how to wrestle. I know you don’t understand that kinda mentality-hell, you’ve always been about superiority, right?”



Jackson pauses, before continuing.



“I’m looking forward to facing off against FPW’s resident technical wizard, but understand this is more than just a match between the two of us-when I come in and sweep your ass off your feet and pin you with Ol’ Reliable, you’re not gonna have much to go off of in your crusade to shit on every other wrestler who enters this company. You’re gonna be the dude who got beat by Robert D. Jackson in his FPW debut.”



Jackson cracks half-a-smile.



“Maybe then, with that little reality check, you’ll have something more to go off of than just being ‘the best wrestler in the company.’ I’ll see you at Uprising, so bring your dancing shoes. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the ring and able to toss a prick like you around.”



Jackson towels his face off, before heading off screen, leaving the camera feed to cut to black.

[Jim Houston]

MDE stands in the middle of a ring in his and Jerry’s usual gym.

“Nice speech Robert D. Jackson. It’s a bit of a mouthful. How does RDJ sound? Oh look... yet another similarity between us. We’re both supremely technically gifted, far more so than most of the backyarders we have here. We’ve both spent years and years dedicated to perfecting our craft to the detriment of certain other pursuits. We both believe we’re the best in whatever ring we step into. You may not have come out and said it, but a man doesn’t get as far as you did and as good as you did without that single-minded self-confidence. The only difference is that I talk about it because I don’t care what other people think of me whereas you’ve crafted a nice little story designed to win over the simpletons who stand and holler at whomever occupies the ring when they’re not off buying over-priced beers or stuffing themselves with hotdogs from the concession stands.

“Those are our similarities. Now let me tell you our differences. You grew up and chose to train as an amateur wrestler. I grew up and chose to train to be a professional wrestler, with a focus on mat skills. That’s important. Why? While I resent the very same glitz and glamour that turned you off this sport in the first place, I’ve grown up with it. I’ve grown up being kicked in the head, having people fly off ropes at me. I’ve dealt with it thousands of times and I know how to work against it. You? You may have shown some impressive training against some academy scrubs and you have may have picked some useful talents to watch, but there’s a big difference in what you’ve done compared to what I’ve done. You’re at the start of your journey- you start a lot further along than most do, but it’s still the start- whereas I’m a long way in the distance. I’ve dealt with more than you could even imagine happens in a ring. Don’t presume that we’re on a level because you’re on my level as a mat wrestler. We’re not yet on a level and you have a lot of work to do to get there.

“There’s another big difference. You broke your back. You got lazy. You got disillusioned. You settled. You took years out of what could have been a career most wrestlers could only dream of because of one set-back- a big set-back, yes, but still only one. Me? I’ve never wavered. Even in periods of inactivity, I’ve still been wrestling-focussed. When I disappeared for three months in 2018, I still kept myself in peak shape. When I decided to take a step back from in-ring competition to focus on making Jerry Bishop the best damn wrestler in the world, I spent time with Jerry, time establishing my own training school in the UK and time making sure I could return to the ring in seconds if I wanted to. You’re coming into this match as your first ever, making your glorious return to the sport of wrestling and making a big thing of it. I seem to remember telling a certain someone this a long time ago... this is the biggest moment in your career because a bad performance could ruin you. For me, this is just another match in a long career. You may see me as a good choice for your first opponent. I’m sure you believe you’re a better wrestler than I am because our styles are similar and maybe you even believe that my work with Jerry means that I’m slowing down. Newsflash. I’m only 29. I have a long time left in that ring and a lot still to accomplish. You have not been given the right opponent if Jim Houston wants to showcase his shiny new toy.

“On paper we may be similar but that’s as far as it goes. Now you can make all of the pretend videos you like, restaging fascinating events like replying to emails and handing in your notice. You can get all of the people behind you and your lovely little comeback story. You can spend your time making sure they all remember that heart-breaking story they once saw buried deep, deep down on SportsCentre one particularly slow news day about this prodigious wrestling talent who lost his chance at glory because of a devastating back injury. I don’t expect people to cheer for me over you and I certainly not care if they do or not. You build your story and your character, you control your narrative, you start to think about how your name will look on all of the t-shirts you’ll print and sell out of your suitcase at merch tables where you’ll shake hand after hand and smile and take photos with people who don’t deserve to be anywhere near you. But in the end it all comes down to one thing. When you step into a professional wrestling ring, does your game translate?

“I’ll let you think about that for a moment... are you really confident that you can take your excellent amateur pedigree and translate it to a very different version of our sport?

“I guess you won’t truly know that until after Uprising. So here’s your get-out clause. We have the match. I use my far superior professional wrestling ability and experience to show you just how much work you still need to do, and then you come to me in the back and ask for my help. I already told you why. I don’t need to flash my credentials again. But the offer still stands. I have the time, you have the raw ability and together we could turn you into something special. Or not. It’s your call. Let’s have our little match and then I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”

MDE turns away from the camera and calls, “I’m done.” Jerry Bishop walks out of the locker room and slides into the ring.

[marileeg17]

Dasha knocks on the door to the medical area where Marcus is doing some PT type work on his knee. He notices her and offers a half-hearted smile.

MAJ: Ms. Banks.

DB: Mr. Allen Jones.

Dasha raises her eyebrow and just shrugs causing Marcus to smile a little broader. Though it's still obvious something is bothering him.

DB: I uh, I can come back to do the interview later if you'd prefer.

Marcus flexes his knee a couple more times before looking back at Dasha.

MAJ: The interview...Right...No, uh, we can definitely do the interview, let me just…

Marcus pauses as he looks down at his wrapped knee. He puts his right leg down before gently resting his left on the ground barely putting any weight on it. This does not go unnoticed by Dasha who frowns.

DB: You tweaked it didn't you? In that little altercation with Saturn?

MAJ: ...Maybe. But he had it coming...Though, I uh, I'm sure you'll want to talk about that in the interview so I'll leave my thoughts for that. Did you want to do it here or…

DB: I mean, the lighting is better in the hallway but if you want to stay here we can set things up around the trailer's table and--

MAJ: NO. Sorry, I mean, it's fine. I can stand, see? And I can walk too.

Marcus puts a little more weight on his bad leg, biting his lip to hold back a grimace of pain. He begins walking a few feet, a noticeable limp and trying not to flex his knee, before it just gives out on him and he ends up falling forward into Dasha's arms. Dasha and Marcus share an intense glance for a few moments before she helps him back to a seated position on the table. Neither say a word for several moments before Marcus finally speaks up, his voice broken and without its usual bravado.

MAJ: I'm sorry.

DB: Marcus, it's okay. You don't have to apologize. Looks like your knee is worse than you thought though. Why don't we see about getting you some crutches just as a temporary measure until you're back on your feet.

MAJ: Thanks, but, that's not, that's not what I'm apologizing for...I feel like I let you down. Like I let everyone down. But especially you.

Dasha looks confused.

DB: Marcus...You didn't let anyone down. You didn't let me down. How could you have--

Dasha pauses as she notices Marcus give her a certain look that causes her face to fall.

DB: Oh…

MAJ: Yeah, oh…

Dasha walks over and puts her hand on Marcus' shoulder.

DB: You don't need to apologize for, for that. You gave it everything you had and did it on a banged up knee from the very first match of this whole tournament. You didn't let me down. Not the way he did. Not at all.

MAJ: But I did. I know it's stupid but I guess I just, I know how much seeing him like that hurts you. And I felt the best thing I could do as a friend was make sure he didn't win. But I lost to Bobby and this time, unlike TakeOver, he couldn't get the job done. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't do that for you. I'm sorry I let you down.

Dasha cups his chin and the two look into each other's eyes.

DB: Hey, look at me. You could NEVER let me down. And you have nothing to be sorry for. So stop beating yourself up over this. It's not your fault.

Marcus sighs.

MAJ: I wish I could believe that but I don't know...So uh, can we maybe just do this interview now?

Dasha just nods sadly.

DB: Yeah, of course. We don't have to do it now though. I can come back.

Marcus shakes his head.

MAJ: Nah, I could use the distraction.

-------------------------

The video picks up with Marcus leant against the wall in the hallway and the regular camera set up in place.

DB: Good afternoon Freedom Fighters! I'm here with Marcus Allen Jones. First off, I think we were all surprised to see Graham Baker back in an FPW ring but for you especially, what was that like, coming face to face with your old rival again?

MAJ: Surreal. I mean, I had no idea what to expect. I was in the back having my knee worked on when I heard the music and my instinct told me to grab the nearest piece of furniture. I was sure he was coming back for revenge and I wasn't exactly in the best position to defend myself given the damage I had taken in my match with Bobby. But then one of the producers saw me and said it's not like that and turned up the volume on the monitor so I could hear what Bakee had to say. It was crazy but he had it so right. This is gonna sound arrogant I'm sure but he and I, we practically built this place. Our battles put FPW on the map. Match of the year after match of the year. We main evented the big PPV year after year. We were the story and our time here was so intertwined that honestly, no one else should have sent him his walking papers but me. Make no mistake, we HATED each other for a large portion of that time. There was real vitriol there. He didn't like who I was as a wrestler and I didn't like who he was. But really it stemmed from our common goal to be the best. We both wanted it more than anything and couldn't stand to see someone else in that place. That drove us to some incredible places and some not so great places too. But no matter if I was being the ass or he was, our desire to be better than the other is something I had never experienced in the ring and may never again. I've never had that chemistry. It was electric. And rest assured, one day, Graham Baker and Marcus Allen Jones will tangle again and yeah, the same heat may not be there, but you will get the best of us. Neither of us likes to lose. We'll enjoy a handshake of respect this time but I won't go soft and he won't either. One day, it will happen and I'll make sure of it. Baker and I respect each other and probably in the depths of ourselves even when we didn't admit it, even when I was calling him a garbage wrestler and he was saying I needed lackeys to win, I think part of us always did respect the other. And I think we knew it the second we stepped in the ring the first time. There's no other way to put it Dasha. It was magic. Pure, unadulterated magic. So to have the opportunity to end things the way we should have the first time, with him going out to the praise of these fans that he deserves, I'm really glad he and I got that moment backstage. And honestly, if he didn't come find me, I would have made sure to see him off regardless. It's corny but the dude is my wrestling soulmate.

Dasha just looks at Marcus for a few moments, another charged moment between them, before she regains her composure and continues the interview.

DB: Anyway, uh, you mentioned that backstage moment, one that was interrupted by a man who was much more Baker's foe than he ever was yours, James Saturn. But now it looks like you're stepping in to pick up where Baker left off. Care to give us your thoughts on that match?

MAJ: That Saturn is a giant prick. Look, I can see where he's coming from. He came back and no one really cared. But here's the thing. You have to make them care. Make them recognize your talent. Because you can get to a point where they hate you and boo you but guess what? They can't deny you are everything you claim to be. But Saturn never wanted that. I talked about first impressions with Baker and how they came to characterize our careers here. I can talk the same with Saturn. He and I tangled pretty early on if I recall. I called him a stupid planet I think. But that was all schoolyard, locker room trash talk. I knew I'd be getting in the ring with a talented guy and I was right. But talent only goes so far and it was as clear then as it is now that Saturn just doesn't want to do the work. And before I continue, I know people can say the same about me and maybe they were right. But the difference is, I was never lazy or complacent. Did I send people to handle my business for me? Regrettably so. But I came into this company and like Babe Ruth, called my shot. And all I did since day one was write my path to the championship, to being the best and it's hard to argue I'm not. Again, not to sound arrogant. But I've seen the stats. First Young Lions Cup winner, former champion, pretty good Free-1 track record. I've got the most wins and have won the most year end awards. Is it really bragging when you're wrestling does the talking for you? I decided I wanted to be the best and you can question my methods all you want, but I got there because I worked at it. Saturn wanted to be the best but didn't put in the effort. He seems to think Baker kept him down but the truth is, he didn't work as hard as Graham and that's what made the difference. The fans recognize talent but they also recognize drive and I'm sorry to be the one to break it to him, but Saturn doesn't have the drive to be a champion in this company. And I'll happily remind him of that come Uprising.

DB: One last question. A lot has been made recently about your golden ticket so to speak. Is there a reason why you've not taken Houston up on his offer for a one on one title match whenever you want it?

Marcus looks at Dasha who just shrugs.

MAJ: Finally a tough question huh?

DB: Figured this was the only way you'd answer it. Plus, the fans want to know. What's stopping you?

MAJ: Well Dasha, since you and the fans are soooo interested, I'll speak out on this. I just lost to Bobby in the tournament for a new #1 contender. Say what you will but we were both banged up and he just got the better of me. And if I can take a moment to plug a guy, wow. I wanted Bobby to join me in TakeOver for a reason. I knew he was the full package and he brought out stuff in me I didn't even know I had. The dude is a phenomenal wrestler. He's just still trying to run from his past. Once he gets by all that 50/50 stuff, I have no doubt he'll be a singles champion in this company. But right now, its Mason. Someone who well deserves it. I talked about hard work earlier. No wrestler in this company, hell maybe even this industry, has worked as hard for his spot than Jace. And could I cash in my opportunity on him? Absolutely. But I'm not where I think I need to be to beat him. And why waste a golden ticket when I'm not at my best? I've won a lot here but I've also picked up some losses lately. I've got a banged up knee. And a monkey on my back. I've still got to prove something here no matter what Houston says and I refuse to jump in front of the line and take a shortcut. I know this is a different kind of shortcut and right now I'd like to do nothing more than stand in the Jok--

Marcus pauses as Dasha bites her lip and looks away.

MAJ: Look, what it comes down to is I still want to be the best but my priorities of what being the best means have shifted. I don't need the title to be the best, not now anyway. When the time comes and I feel I've earned the match Houston has given me, I'll take it. But only when the time comes. Now, I'm focused on Saturn and Mason, he's focused on his #1 contender. Those guys deserve the right to fight it out and I don't know, maybe after that title match, maybe after I see who's champion, then maybe I'll see if I'm ready to have earned my opportunity.

[veggieleezy]

*Camera comes up on Jerry Bishop in his home. He's seated in a chair in a dark shirt and leather jacket, glass with a few fingers of bourbon in one hand. He leans in towards the camera.*

JB: Here we are, one of the holiest weeks in the world. WrestleMania, Passover, Easter. I've been called a lot of things recently. And I've not been called some things at all. So let me add a couple of things for you. Save you the trouble. One- gimmick thief. And no, I don't mean all of this-

*He gestures to his home and his clothes*

JB: I mean what I'm about to do now. Two- Blasphemer. Vinny's House of Pain and Alienation already has their Crossfit Jesus. Time for a little sermon from FPW's Crossface Jesus.

*Bishop starts to rise from his chair, but he pauses.*

JB: Don't get used to it. These jokes only work this time of year, and I'm nothing if not a master of timing.

*Bishop rises and walks to a mirror on a wall. He reaches into a drawer and withdraws his face paints. He looks in the mirror for a moment, figuring out what design to use. As he speaks, he applies the paint.*

JB: Let's start with the first thing. WrestleMania. Should they have done it? Were Edge and Orton fined for that weight rope spot? And how much better was our series of shows than theirs? In order- probably not, hopefully they were, and infinitely. Why? Because I saved that weekend from being another boring tournament. We had a clear winner going in, yours truly, and we saw FPW's most valiant step up- and fall. The strongest "heroes" in Freedom Pro Wrestling fell at the hands of the single most exciting, engaging, and enticing man in this business. Don't get me wrong, I made them look great, but they never stood a chance. Not Bobby, not Aaron, not Tchyukiro- no one.

*With a base coat of paint applied, Bishop adds the colors and details*

JB: Now for the second thing. Passover. Needless to say, I've been passed over for this moment harder than Fredo Corleone, because that's the way Papa Houston wanted it. Well, Fredo was weak and stupid. I have proven time and again that I am neither of those things. I have proven to everyone in that locker room, everyone in management, everyone in the stands, everyone in that ring that I will not be passed over again.

*Bishop applies the finishing touches to his paint, a look similar to Jeff Hardy's "masks".

JB: Which brings me to the last thing. Easter. For a while, I was gone. I was adrift. I had lost everything. But now, well, to borrow again from Uncle Eric, I'm back, and I'm better than ever... And I'm here to give you the thing you've always wanted... the thing you've always dreamed of... the thing you've always deserved...

*Bishop polishes off his drink.*

JB: Jerry Bishop as Freedom Pro Wrestling Champion. I've made my way back to a championship match, something Jimmy's always been too scared to give me until he had to. I've beaten and broken everyone you've thrown at me, Jimmy. I've blown through everyone you thought could stop me. But it's okay, I'm not mad. This is a season of forgiveness. And I forgive you, Jimmy. I forgive you for not believing in me. I forgive you for pushing me aside all these years, I forgive you for holding me back, I forgive you for preventing me from giving those people what they deserve, I forgive you for keeping me down because you were afraid of what I could really do, I forgive you for stopping any attempt I made at rising to the top of this company.

*Bishop walks over to his sound system and places a finger on the play button.*

JB: And now that it's time for me to give them the Blessing of Bishop, you're never going to stop me again.

*Bishop hits play and we hear Rob Zombie's "Never Gonna Stop". Bishop dances around his home as the scene and sound fade.*

[Saturn]

"Marcus Allen Jones thinks I'm a prick."

The camera opens on James Saturn with his signature cocky grin on his face, surrounded by darkness. In front of him, a fire crackles sporadically and behind him the woods stretch out forever. He wears a beanie and a loosely fitting neon green jacket, and his hair has grown considerably longer than the last time we saw him. Stitched into his jacket, we see the logos for several alternative indie bands that everyone knows and can easily recognize. He looks like an asshole. Saturn stares at the camera for several seconds in giddy anticipation of his own words before finally continuing.

"Marcus Allen Jones thinks I'm a prick. That's what he said. That's what he called me… I'm the prick, he says… Listen, I know Marcus Allen Jones is a smiley wholesome shithead nowadays, but have the fans really forgotten how terrible of a person he was just a year ago? Has he himself forgotten how terrible he was? Jones was the definition of a monster, he was an egomaniac. The man hospitalized people, he was almost fired at several points due to his behavior, and yet he can just say sorry and mind his manners and suddenly all is forgiven? Sure, I haven't been the kindest to the fans in the past, but that's because I speak the truth, you people hate me because I tell you the hard truths you don't want to hear. That's all, I'm not the kindest guy, but I'm nowhere near the monster Jones is… And yet, somehow I'm the bad guy here. What's up with that? How's that fair? I'm the hero here! How don't you people see that?! I've always been the goddamned hero, and never once have I been rewarded for my heroism! People boo me, they hate me all because I refuse to feed into their shallow narratives of good versus evil, I refuse to be like the rest of the feeble sheep in Freedom Pro Wrestling! I've been the best thing in this entire company since day one!"

Saturn stops talking for a moment to take a deep breath, before grabbing a marshmallow and holding it over the fire with a sharpened stick.

"... And yet, Jones has the audacity to suggest, to insist that I don't have enough drive to get the job done, to elevate myself to the top level. That's bullshit. I have more drive in a single finger than that piece of trash has in his entire body. No, I am not the face of the company right now for one simple reason. Jim Houston. Houston has always hated me, the top brass of this giant corporate machine have always hated me because I won't ever be one of those incompetent "Yes" men like Baker or Mason that they seem to love so much, I'm more. I'm smart, I see the flaws in the system and I rebel against them, I don't just let the man tell me what to be, I'm my own person, and I'm better for it. Marcus, he used to actually be different than the weak minded dolts that populate FPW, he used to be an individualist, someone that could think for himself. But not anymore, for some reason, he decided that it would be better to become just another ignorant ass in a field already populated by way too many of them. He's become the stupidest man in Pro Wrestling! When I face him at Uprising, I'm hoping I'll be able to show him just how stupid this whole charade he puts on is, I'm hoping I'll be able to return MAJ to his former glory… And if I can't do that… Maybe I'll just try to end his career. Who knows, I guess we'll see what happens at Uprising. I'm looking forward to it."

Saturn pulls the marshmallow off the stick, takes a look at it, and then tosses it out into the woods without a second thought.

"I'll see you soon, Marcus."

The camera cuts to black.

[ticktock]

The video opens in a wrestling gym, where several children aged between ten and fourteen go through some basic chain wrestling drills, led by an unknown instructor. This goes on for a few moments before a door opens and Aaron Williams walks in. One of the boys immediately stops what they're doing, shouts out his name and runs over to him. Several others do the same.

AW: Hey... hey, guys. I've missed you.
Boy: Why haven't you been here, Aaron?
AW: I had... I had a few things to sort out.
Boy: Were you sad because you couldn't beat Jerry?

Williams pauses for a moment.

AW: Yeah, that was part of it... let me put my things down and I'll come and talk to you. Finish off your drill for Coach Harry.

The boys head back to the mats and Williams drops his bag down. The other coach heads over to him.

CH: Hey, man. It's good to have you back.
AW: It's good to be here. I've missed this place and I've missed these kids. It doesn't take long for them to put a smile back on my face.
CH: Fuck your face, man. How's your back?
AW: It's getting there. No major damage. Sometimes I wish I could just tone it down and look after myself a bit more, you know?
CH: You'll never do that.
AW: You're right. When that crowd gets going, I just forget about everything else other than the moment I'm in. Even so, if I don't look after myself a bit more...
CH: You'll end up like me?
AW: And wouldn't that be shit?
CH: Haha, you'll be out there in a wrestling ring when you're seventy, Aaron. We both know that.
AW: God willing, bro. God willing. Now, let me get talking to these little guys.

Williams heads into the ring and slides in. He calls out to the kids and they come and surround the ring.

AW: Hey guys. You miss me? I certainly missed you. I'm sorry I haven't been around for a couple of weeks. I had to go down to Tampa and then... well, things didn't exactly go right for me down there-
Boy: You made it to the semi-finals!
Girl: And had some amazing matches!
Boy: I wish you'd beaten Jerry.

AW: I did. Thank you. And so do I. But sometimes things don't go the way you want them to. I still believe I can beat Jerry and one day... one day I'll prove myself right on that. But a week ago I didn't manage to get it done. I got beaten up pretty bad too. My back was hurting so much that I could barely walk. Luckily it wasn't anything major and it's on its way back to being one hundred percent... or as close to as I'll ever get anyway. Truth be told... I've been a bit down after losing that match. I wanted to win the tournament sure. I know that me and Jace could have a really special match and a chance at the FPW Championship would have been amazing, but I don't mind not winning. I do mind losing to Jerry Bishop again, though, and it did a number on me for a while. But here I am. You guys are just what I need to get me back on my feet so let's get-
Girl: Are you going to be ready to wrestle Bobby O next week?
Boy: Yeah. He's really good. He beat Marcus Allen Jones.
Boy: And Jack Sevren.
Girl: And-

AW: Yeah, Bobby has a good resume here. I have no problem with Bobby O. I think we could put on a very good match. I'll be ready for him. He's a great all-rounder, so it won't be easy, but I'll give it my best. And most importantly, I'll shake his hand and the start of the match and at the end of the match, win, lose or draw. I hope you've remembered that with Coach Harry. I know he doesn't always look at things the same way as I do! Now, let's get to it.
Boy: Is Jerry going to beat Jace?
AW: Good question.
Girl: I don't want him to.
Boy: Me neither.
Boy: I like Jace. He was nice when he came by.
Girl: If Jerry wins, can you get the title off him?

AW: I don't know. I hope Jace beat him, I really do.
Boy: But what if he doesn't?
AW: I don't know. Let's get to-
Girl: Who were those guys who attacked you in Tampa?
Boy: I didn't like them.
AW: They were... not nice people. I don't think we'll be seeing them again.
Boy: But-

AW: Okay, that'll do it for Q and A today. Time to get our roll on.

Williams looks back at Coach Harry and the two share an interesting look as the video comes to an end.

[ticktock]

Jackson Banks holds a phone camera to his face. RJ Tudor dips his head in and out of the shot.

JB: Yo, FP-dubz! Your boys Rev-X haven't been in action for a little while but that's ok.
RJT: That's not ok!
JB: Hey hey hey, it is. We've had time to look back on our losses and get into the gym.
RJT: Man, we been working hard!

JB: Yes sir. And we noticed something.
RJT: What did we notice?
JB: We noticed that we're not on the card for Uprising.
RJT: We're NOT?
JB: We're not. But that's ok too.
RJT: How's that ok?

JB: Do you know what's coming up soon?
RJT: Easter?
JB: Yeah, but-
RJT: Yeah boi! I got me some chocolate eggs to unwrap.
JB: Do you know what's coming up after Easter?
RJT: Uh... stomach pains?
JB: Probably for you, but after Easter... after Uprising... after all that... it's the All... Star... Tag... Team... Classic!
RJT: Tag Team Classic?
JB: The All Star Tag Team Classic.
RJT: Man, we're a tag team!
JB: And we're entering the All Star Tag Team Classic. Yes, you heard me right. Revolution-X are entering the All Star Tag Team Classic and you know something, RJ?
RJ: What?

JB: I know who I want us to face first round.
RJ: Who?
JB: Well... who's been running their mouths around here recently?
RJ: James Saturn?
JB: Yeah, but who else?
RJ: Jerry Bishop?
JB: Yeah, but who else?
RJ: MDE?
JB: Yeah, but... ah man... Dogs of War.
RJ: Damn, Banks, that was my next guess.
JB: You only get three. Three guesses. That's a thing. You know that.

RJ: The Dogs of War... David Archer... uh... the other one.
JB: The Dogs of War... you've been shooting your mouths off recently about opportunities. About people being handed things. Way I see it, you were handed one when you first got here. You were handed the final spot in a number one contender match. That's a pretty big thing to get on your debut. I respect that you went and won the belts afterwards, don't get me wrong. And I respect that you held them for a while too. But I don't respect your bitch asses moaning about Jim Houston playing favorites. If you're champs, you should be ready to go against anyone and everyone. So, how 'bout you earn your next opportunity and you start with us?
RJ: Dogs of War and Rev-O-lution-X?
JB: That's the challenge. Dogs of War. Rev-X. All Star Tag Team Classic round one. What you say boys?
RJ: Yeah, what you say?
JB: We ready. We ready to kick it up a level and start to show what we can really do. You ready for us?
RJ: No way!
JB: Let's find out. Come prove it. All Star Tag Team Classic. DOW v Rev-X. Make it happen.

[noname1525]

Jace Mason stepped out of a car in the parking lot of the FPW arena.

"Well, we did it. I know that there's a couple people who have been wondering why the FPW champion hasn't bee appearing regularly, and they're right to wonder. A champion is supposed to represent the company after all, and he can't do that if he doesn't show up. I get it. But I just wanted to assure you, this isn't a sign of things to come. Since the Wrestlemania Weekend show was primarily a number one contender's tournament, a tournament that I couldn't be a part of as the champion, I'd asked Mr. Houston if I could take some time off and go visit my family, celebrate my victory with the people that matter most. He declined my request, since he thought I should pay attention to who my number one contender will be, and maybe have a little interaction once he won the tournament. But he respected my desire to see my family and gave me some time off after the tournament." Jace grinned. "And considering how long my first title reign lasted, I thought it was best if I sequestered myself away for a little bit, just to make sure history didn't repeat itself." Jace chuckled before continuing. "But that time is over now, and it's time for the FPW World Champion to once again be a part of FPW TV. And there's no better place to start than the man I just mentioned, the new number one contender, Jerry Bishop."

"Jerry's been around since the beginning of FPW, he's seen everyone come and go. He's as much a part of this company as the title that's over my shoulder right now. But somehow, his path has never intertwined with this title's history. He's challenged for it once or twice, but never managed to become champion. What's interesting though, is that for a long time, this didn't bother Jerry. Jerry didn't define himself by his victories or the championships he held, Jerry defined himself by his connection with the fans. He may not have been the top wrestler on the card, but he was always the favorite wrestler on the card. I'll be honest, Jerry was a big source of inspiration for me in the beginning of my time here in FPW. Even when he lost, he did so with a smile on his face, and as you know, I lost a lot when I first came here. Seeing the fans love Jerry despite his losses helped me realize that, as important as they are, wins aren't everything. If you can forge a connection, an honest bond with the crowd, then the outcome of your match doesn't matter."

"But now? Jerry's changed. He's thrown aside that connection, kicked it to the curb as he does the exact opposite of what the old Jerry would do and focuses on himself. And unfortunately, it's working. Jerry's been on a roll, and he almost seems unstoppable, which is only going to reinforce the idea in his head that he's doing the right thing. But it's not. At the end of the day, wins and losses are just numbers in a column, they don't matter as much as that connection with the crowd. Jerry was the one who taught me that lesson two years ago, and now it's time for me to return the favor."

[botiatus]

Bo walks into Jilly's Diner and tucks himself into an empty booth. He pulls out his phone to see an incoming call from J right as Jilly walks up to take his order

J- "I can come back if you need a minute?"

Bo silences the phone and sets it on the table

B- "No it's fine. So how's the grilled cheese today?"

J- "Just as good as last time. Spinach and bacon right?"

Bo's phone rings again, this time showing Berry's name. Bo once again quickly silences the phone and Jilly raises an eyebrow

J- "Is that who I think it is?"

Bo takes a deep sigh

B- "Yeah it is. We're supposed to be training right now"

J- "I'm guessing that's what the other call was about too"

B- "Yep. They should be together right now so J will still make sure Berry completes the proper regimen for the day"

Jilly's eyebrow remains raised as she looks over Bo

J- "What's bugging you hon? I haven't seen that California sunshine smile you're usually flashing around. Does this have anything to do with Jerry?"

Bo looks surprised at the question

B- "Jerry? No, not at all. Why do you ask that?"

Jilly slides into the booth, across from Bo. She speaks more softly now as the emotion is clear in her voice and on her face

J- "Jerry used to come in here every week like clockwork. And he was usually in a good mood much like yourself. But then he started showing up less and his mood changed. It was somber, at times sad even. Then all of a sudden you show up here one day to crash his dinner and now I haven't seen him since"

B- "Oh yeah that was just pure coincidence. I needed his help at the time and I got it, well sort of. But I haven't really dealt with him since"

Jilly's eyes drop sightly

J- "I see"

B- Oh I wouldn't worry about him though. He's on top of the world right now and finally getting everything he's ever wanted. Meanwhile I'm stuck dealing with Clutch and his stupid crusade"

Jilly's eyes raise again

J- "I'm sorry I was asking you about your problems and then I went and made it about my own worries"

B- "It's fine. If he was here that often then I'm sure he's more than just a customer to you"

J- "I just... After having not seen him for so long I decided to watch some of y'all's TV show. I have it on all the time cause customers love it but I rarely pay close attention. I paid attention this time though and the Jerry I saw was a completely different man. And what he did to poor Berry.."

Her words trail off as she shakes her head

J- "I'm sorry, I'm doing all the talking again"

B- "It's really fine and actually that's part of why I'm here. I've been training Berry and I've been training her specifically so that she can beat her brother. But I wasn't expecting her to have to face him so soon and she didn't stand a chance. If she had accepted my help the first time I asked... It doesn't matter now. What matters is I'm supposed to be helping her and I'm not sure if I'm even capable of it right now. I've been off lately. I just lost my first match in months and even before that I've been shaky in the ring lately. The loss itself doesn't bother me. Every wrestler has ups and downs, it's just the nature of the business. I'm just concerned because I've been off for months now and I'm still not able to pinpoint exactly why. I know it started around the same time I started training Berry but I don't think that alone is it. I've trained other wrestlers before and it never affected my own performance. I'm not sure if I'm overthinking things in the ring or if I'm becoming too predictable. I just know lately I've been leaving the ring with my head shaking wondering what the hell that was and who the hell that shell of myself was. And the thing that really bothers me is that until I figure out my own issues I'm not gonna be much help to Berry. How am I supposed to teach her to win when I'm barely scrapping together victories myself?"

Bo stares off seemingly lost in thought. His demeanor remains calm but the conflict in his eyes is clear

B- "Anyways, that's why I'm here instead of training. I need to find my comfort zone again and I figured what better way to start than with some good old comfort food"

Jilly perks herself up as she clearly see the look on Bo's face

J- "Well sounds like you got the first step figured out! You seem like a smart guy, I'm sure you'll get your issues figured out. In the meantime let me go put this order in for you. I'll add a slice of pie on the side too, my treat!"

Bo's eyes light up for the first time

B- "Really? Thanks, I'd love that!"

J- "Just my little way of helping. I don't know anything about wrestling so you're on your own their but a little pie is always helpful"

Jilly slides out of the booth and Bo watches as she heads to the kitchen. He then turns his attention to the TV in the corner where 60 Minutes Of Freedom is currently on. DeVille and Watson are discussing Berry's upcoming match with Danica Jane. They play highlights of her loss to Jerry and Bo simply looks away as he mutters to himself

B- "Fuck"

[The_Aviator_GB]

Water rushes over the head of the newest Freedom Pro Wrestling signee as he showers following a rather intense training session. He glances at his body in the long mirror across from his shower, admiring the bruises and bumps he’s picked up in the few days he’s trained. He raises a brow as he notes that the large scar on his back appears to be joined by other marks from bumping and taking blows to the back. He sighs, and pulls knots from his hair before he turns the water off. He towels off, and dresses in a pair of running shorts and a tanktop as he sets a camera up, glancing over all of the settings, before he sits down in a lounging chair and the recording starts.

-

“Good stuff, MDE. You make a lot of compelling arguments and a lot of good points, least of which being that I got ‘lazy’ or ‘disillusioned’,” Jackson puts airquotes around the last two, before he snorts. “I wish things were as black and white as you’d like to make them out to be, my man, but they’re not. Learning how to move again after your back is splintered isn’t something that most are able to do, let alone getting back in the ring. By the time I’d come back, I’d been through so many physical trials and tribulations that I thought I was done with this, I thought I’d never feel that fire burning again.” Jackson glances to the canvas, before looking back up. “I’ve taken years off, sure, but I’ve been laying in wait, you know? Pushing myself as hard as I can without getting in the ring and taking risks. I know this isn’t a long-term deal for me, man-it’s a payday. No disrespect to men like you, but the thing with you all is that you train your whole life to become a professional wrestler, only for a dude like Graham Baker to come along and undermine you by nearly tearing your arm off and choking the life from you in the middle of the ring.” Jackson’s face turns into a cocky smile as he references MDE’s most famous losses.

“Beyond that, though, I can see the damage this sport does to you. You might be twenty-nine, but think about this-how many wrestlers push into their thirties? Forties? Fifties? I’ve been training for just under a month and I’ve got more bumps and bruises then I ever got in this short a time under NCAA rules. You’ve been doing this forever and a day, so I can only imagine what your body feels like. Again, I respect it, but I don’t quite get it-how you think your singular approach makes you superior to me? The mat work is the same, which gives me a natural advantage without the added weight of damage to my body from only training for this sport. Hell, I’ve picked up other martial arts I can snap to without having to act like I twisted my spine into a pretzel to learn them.”

Jackson runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, MDE, I really don’t mean to disrespect you. You can offer me your tutelage fifteen thousand times, and I guarantee you I’ll say no every single time. You’re predatory, you’re not the purist you claim to be, and you’re definitely not the hero here. I’ve watched you fight Graham Baker, Jace Mason, Jerry Bishop-and I know for a fact you’re not the man I want to have my back in this locker room. I may not understand this culture, I may not share the dream, but I can promise you-I can tell a bad dude from a good one, and in this company, you look like you might be worst of the worst.”

Jackson begins to stand, and pauses for a moment.

“I’ll see you at Uprising, man. And when-not if-I manage to pin your shoulders to the canvas, don’t take it as a personal insult. It’s just sport.”

Jackson stands up, and walks off camera, presumably turning it off as the screen turns black.

[Jim Houston]

MDE locks a half-crab to an unidentified wrestler and sits down deep. The wrestler bangs his hand on the mat and MDE releases the hold.

MDE: Was that better?
Wrestler: Yeah. That’s the way. You’ll have him right with that.
MDE: Good. Now get showered and rest up. You’ll be grappling tomorrow. Go and watch those DVDs I gave you. Be ready to spend the morning on the mat.

The wrestler leaves and MDE looks into the camera.

“RDJ... you don’t think I respect you, do you? In fact, I think you’ll find that I respect you a hell of a lot more than most of the people in the locker room. You think any of them knew who you were before I named you? Not a chance. NCAA wrestling... it’s niche. Very niche. Even more niche than what you’ve decided to take up now. I’ve seen more of your wrestling matches than anyone but your mother, father and that weird girl who stalked you in tenth grade. I saw most of them before this match was set even. And now I’m completing the set. I respect the hell out of what you’ve achieved. As an amateur wrestler. I respect that you’ve worked your way back into physical health and I respect that you’re taking this seriously. Because you need to. You say you have the advantage of not having a bump card which is as full as mine? You may have certain advantages but your lack of experience will bring you down. In this ring, with those ropes, those bright lights and that screaming crowd... this is my domain. In an amateur set-up, you probably would beat me. I know that. But here? You’re coming into my domain.

“At least you’ve done your homework. I’m not sure what you seem to like so much about Graham Baker, but yes I did lose to him. And Bobby O, and Jerry Bishop, and Berry Bishop and Jace Mason and all the rest. In professional wrestling, nobody wins every time. There are too many factors. What matters is learning and getting better. That’s all I do. I’ve plugged more gaps in my game than you could even imagine. I’ll also expose all of the gaps in your game that you don’t know about yet. Your mat work may have been exemplary in the past and I’ll bet a lot of it holds up. I’m sure we’ll spend a lot of time measuring our proverbial dicks on the mat and I’m sure we’ll each come up short in a few exchanges. But I’ll know when and how to move the match into a new territory. You? You’ll be lost. Until you’ve done it a few times, you won’t feel it. You’ll think it. You’ll work through a plan and try to find the moment to change the pace, to go for something different. But you won’t feel it. And that’s where you’ll come up short. In twelve months’ time, maybe you beat me then. Maybe you’ll have enough experience then. But now? No. I’m sure you’ll be good. I won’t make the mistake of underestimating you. You’ll get the better of me some of the time, I know that for sure. But by the end, my experience will trump yours, of that I have no doubt.

“But hey, what does it matter to you? You’ll be paid. That’s all you want, right?”

[kingclutch]

*FPW House show*

"Jumpman" by Drake plays which brings the crowd to cheers. Russ Bolt comes out, does his classic fadeaway and makes his way down to the ring. On the way down he high fives a few fans.

He grabs a mic from ringside and slides under the ropes.

RB: "I came out here tonight because I wanted to clear the air on some things. People get this idea that I'm on the brink of calling it quits, that I'm not respected here, that think I'm only kept around to be useful. Now I'll admire between his "crusade" and other things, you're goddamn right I wanna punch him square in the mouth. But that doesn't mean I'm going to jump ship at the first opportunity. Now they say you can either make friends or you can make money. I'm blessed to say that I've done both. Clutch has been invaluable in terms of getting me trained up here. And we've had each other's backs through some heavy shit that would break most men. And you don't turn your backs on someone after that, not in my book you don't. But let's put all that to rest. The other reason I came out here. I don't have a match at Uprising. And I'm okay with that, but going forward..."

"Lights Go Out" by Fozzy plays, getting a fairly big pop. Danica comes out, all smiles.

DJ: Russ, we've been friends for awhile. And I know we don't always agree with Steve, but I know he's not going to let this go. I get why he does it, why this is the attitude he has about it. But there's no reason our careers need to suffer for it. For the time being, I suggest we tag together. Hell, we gave Archer and Cable a run for their money. So what I'm thinking is we enter the FPW Tag Team Classic and then get a tag title match!

RB: Sounds good to me. *the two shake hands*

Suddenly "Justice" plays, Archer and Cable come out incensed.

DA: Turn the music off! Normally, I'd mark the absence of the Powder Blue Boy Scout, but a Clutch-less FPW would be a good thing. Now Russ, I respect the hell out of you and Clutch as far as basketball goes. Hell, despite being a Mavs fan, I was a fan of yours. And Danica....could have been an Olympian, but you chose to become a rep and how sweet, you reunited with your college sweetheart because of it, but look at what that gets you. Between the both of you: no one respects you because you refuse to cut the dead weight. And you know who the weak link is. You call yourselves the Dynasty, but in FPW or wrestling ever....what have you been the champions of? And now you two think you can just waltz in and declare yourselves as THE tag team of FPW. At least WE have been the champions SOMEWHERE. And since Houston has made it abundantly clear that it's the only way for the time being that we're going to get another shot, WE are entering the Tag Team Classic. For your sake, I hope you do not have the misfortune of facing us. If you though we were bad before, that we went too far before.....you haven't seen anything yet. But if you don't believe me...*throws down mic*

Archer and Cable make their way down to ring. Archer can quickly be seen sticking a capsule in his mouth.
The two make their way in, immediately laying out Russ with a hard lariat from Cable. He then grabs Danica going into an Irish Whip into a snap German suplex from Archer. The crowd is letting their displeasure known. Archer goes to pick up Danica and Cable picks up Russ. Danica hits a low blow on Archer, sending him to the ground, Russ slips away from Cable and the pair hits a double superkick on Cable, sending him to the corner.

Danica walks over to Archer and Russ over to Cable. Almost simultaneously Cable explodes out with a clubbing forearm to the jaw of Russ Bolt and Archer hits Danica in the face with green mist. Cable gets Bolt tied up in the ropes so he's helpless. Archer hits a running knee on Russ, followed up with a spear from Cable. Russ isn't quite unconscious, but the damage has clearly been done. He tries to speak, but can't get the words out. Archer and Cable set their sights on Danica. Cable makes his gun motion, getting ready to set up the Titan Killer.

DA: BRAX! NO! *he beckons him over and whispers in his ear*

Cable smiles sadistically before hitting Danica with a TarHEEL.

Archer grabs a mic from ringside.

DA: As for Revolution-X,....WE ACCEPT!

*Archer spikes the microphone before he and Cable leave*


.......a few minutes later........

*Outside Folsom Prison in California*

*Clutch is talking to a security guard*

Guard: I'm sorry, Mr. McCloud. I understand you're family, but with all these precautions in place, I can't allow for visitors. All due respect, this could have been told in a phone call.

CM: Yeah, thanks. *Phone rings* Speaking of....

Hello....

No I didn't know.......

.........

THEY WHAT?!?

*Clutch quickly gets into his vehicle and quickly drives away*

[noname1525]

The camera opened on a hallway intersection backstage at the FPW arena. No one was visible at first, but then the silence was broken by a female voice.

"And you haven't heard anything from her either?" Thea Donovan asked as she and Myra Lopez walked past the cameraman, with neither of them noticing him. Myra shook her head as the cameraman stepped out into the hallway behind them, following them as they continued their conversation. "That's not like her," Thea said. "I mean, I understand taking time off for an injury, but normally she wouldn't let someone run off with her title without swearing vengeance." There was a slight pause before she continued. "And even if, for whatever reason, she decided to leave without promising to come back, why not tell us anything. We deserve to know what's going on with our teammate, right?" Myra didn't respond, and Thea glanced over at her, note of accusation creeping into her voice. "Aren't you concerned about all this?"

"Of course I'm concerned," Myra said. "But there's nothing we can do about it. I'm keeping myself focused on what we can do, and that's doing our part to fulfill the vision Artemis laid down before she lost her title, a vision of the Queendom holding all the gold. And we can start with those FPW Tag Team Championship Belts the Guardians of Strong Style are keeping warm for us."

Thea cracked a smile at that, and then both of them whipped around as the cameraman accidentally kicked the edge of a storage crate. "How long have you been there?" Myra asked, a dangerous glare in her eyes as she stepped closer to the cameraman, only for Thea to grab her arm. Myra glanced over at her and the two of them had a short, silent conversation that ended with Thea letting go of her partner and stepping in front of the camera.

"Since we have you here," she said, a supposedly friendly smile on her face that made the cameraman take a step back. "I think it's time we address our opponents. Actually, let me rephrase that, it's time we address their manager, since he's clearly the brains behind their operation. Sato, I will give you our congratulations, your two bruisers have become the first-ever three time FPW Tag Team Champions. The two of us have held tag team gold elsewhere in the past, we know what it takes to make history with those belts. But you're letting your success get to your head, and it's blinding you to the truth, that the Queendom is the best tag team here in FPW, bar none. You say we don't deserve a shot against you? You haven't been paying attention. You guys remember Death Squad right? Basically the only team to have beaten you in FPW? Well Myra and I made them look like a pair of rookies. And the hot new kids on the block, Revolution X? We clipped their wings before they could even take off. We're coming for those Tage Team Championships, and we're not going to let anyone stand in our way."

[veggieleezy]

*Camera comes up on Botiatus working out in the FPW gym with a heavybag. We see Berry Bishop dramatically tip-toeing up behind him. She slips his hands over his eyes.*

BB: Guess wh-

*Before she can finish, Bo reaches over his head and snapmares Berry over his shoulder to the floor. Bo realizes his mistake and helps her up.*

Bo: Geez, Berry, you can't go around doing that to people.

BB: It's ne- ow- it's never got me in trouble- ow- before.

Bo: Seriously?

BB: Well, there was that one time with Lizzie. And when I ran into Steven Deville at the store. And I don't think Mr. H appreciated it when he was having his eye exam.

Bo: How did you even get into that- never mind.

BB: I was thinking since you've been helping me get ready for my match against Dani, I could help you get ready for your match against that Meanie McCloud!

Bo: Is everyone you don't like a meanie?

BB: No, I mostly save it for rhymes or alliteration.

Bo: Look, Berry, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I think I can handle the powder-blue powder puff myself.

BB: Ooh, that's a good one, I may have to keep that.

*She takes out a purple notebook and a purple marker and scribbles quickly before tucking them away.*

Bo: Do I want to know where you-

BB: Come on, Bo, you promised me that we were in this together. You were going to help me be a better wrestler, and I was going to help you with the bigger picture. You've been doing your part, let me do mine.

Bo: Look, let me ask you this. Have you been doing the training I've assigned you?

*Berry heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes.*

BB: Yes...

Bo: And have you studied the matches I sent you?

BB: Yes...

Bo: And have you changed your diet as I suggested?

BB: Does putting the jelly beans *in* the smoothies count?

Bo: ...it's a start?

BB: And Fozzie's been KILLING it on the grill, he's really grown into quite the culinary cub!

Bo: Okay, so you've been doing what I've asked you to do. And that's good, I'm glad. So I'm going to ask you do something else.

BB: What?

Bo: Leave Meanie McCloud to me. I've got this. Besides, I think he'd kick my ass extra hard for taking training advice from a woman. No offense to you, that just seems to be his beef.

BB: None taken. And I wouldn't mind hitting him with the Checkmate myself. It certainly looks better than his TarHeel, anyway... But can't I at least help you a little bit? Maybe give you some new chants to work into the crowd? Or maybe help you with some new gear? I may not win all the time, but the Freedom Fighters love me because they know how much I love them, and that's why I'm here. Maybe I can just come out with you for your entrance or something?

Bo: I appreciate the enthusiasm, Bombshell. But House Rules say, if it's a one-on-one match, it's a one-on-one match. No extras. Just stay focused on Danica, and I'll take down the head of the Dynasty, deal?

*Bo extends his hand for Berry to shake. She looks him in the eye and after a moment nods and shakes his hand.*

BB: ...okay, deal. But I am here to help if you need me. To be honest, it's been a while since I've had someone interested in helping my career that wasn't a complete slimeball or didn't turn into a facepainted lunatic.

Bo: We'll cross those bridges when we need to. But right now, let's just deal with the matches at hand, okay? We can go from there.

BB: Okay... I should probably be going anyway. Fozzie's testing out some new recipes, and I've invited Dashy to do a wine pairing challenge! I wonder what goes best with Gobstoppers... They change flavors, ya know.

*Berry takes her notebook out again and scribbles furiously, talking to herself as she exits. Bo watches after her.*

Bo: She's a mess, but she's got heart, I'll give her that. Now if I could just find mine these days...

*He winds up and hits the heavybag with a quick House Call elbow. He sighs and continues his workout.*