Episode 1 Promo Card

[Pizza Ant]

Card for episode 1:
"Ride the Lightning"
August 20th, 2017
Chicago, IL
Odeum Expo Center

Theme Song: "Ride the Lightning" by Metallica - 


Zeke vs Justice Legal vs Erick Skaar - Winner faces Azazel later that night

Azazel vs ?

Athena Dai vs Freja 

Jerry Bishop vs Davey Jones - FPW World Championship Tournament First Round match

Adam Thompson vs Kassius Boone - FPW World Championship Tournament First Round match

Azrael vs Marcus Allen Jones - FPW World Championship Tournament First Round match

Main Event: Clutch McCloud vs Sabre vs Jeremiah Johnson - FPW World Championship Tournament First Round match

PLUS:

Jim Houston welcomes everyone to FPW

Nick Leeds looks for a client

[veggieleezy]

*Camera comes up backstage on Jerry Bishop arriving to the arena. He takes off his scooter helmet to show him "battle ready" with his domino mask in place. Bishop sports his leather jacket with his theatre masks and his initials on the back. Dasha Banks approaches for an interview.*

DB: Jerry, tonight General Manager Jim Houston has placed you in picture for the Freedom Pro Wrestling World Championship, and your first match is against newcomer Davey Jones. How do you feel heading into this championship tournament?

JB: Well, first, Dasha, it's good to see you. I'm glad to see you're a part of this new adventure we've got going here. It's a bit intimidating to come here on my own after working as part of a tag team for so long. I'm sure you remember. Coming into FPW as a singles competitor, it's going to be a hard fight to make a name for myself in this sea of talented fighters. But back in the before times, in the long, long ago, we both worked with a man named Davey Jones, and he became my friend. I'm not expecting that this Davey Jones will be my friend off the bat, but I hope to at the very least gain his respect in the ring, and by extension, the rest of the locker room. I'm here in FPW to put on the best matches I possibly can, and I feel like Davey Jones wants to do the same.

DB: Do you have anything you'd like to say to the FPW Freedom Fighters?

JB: Only that I hope you remember why we're all here in the first place: to have fun. I promise, I will bring more fun to this promotion than a bouncy castle full of barrels of monkeys. I won't let you down. Now if you'll excuse me, Dasha, I need to prepare for my match.

*Bishop reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a rubber duckie, a bag of Skittles, Silly Putty, and a Green Lantern comic book before walking into the locker room. Dasha watches on with a slightly confused smile, then walks off.*

[Deleted]

Dasha Banks walks up to a locker room with weird angellic phrase written on it. As if Azrael could sense her presence, he opens the door for her to see the wonderful, majestic locker room that he has...which is only colored white with some religious objects and his clothes. Dasha composes herself and starts speaking...

DB: Hello Azrael, you've been quite the mysterious person since you have arrived. You said that you were a servant of god, yet your powers were taken away from you by God because he had forgotten you? Why did he forget about you?

Azrael: Well, Dasha, I was with the humans for about 500,000 years. I've seen things you all have dreamt of seeing. After 500,000 years of not seeing a person, you'd forget about him, right? Well, if they were humans then he or she would be dead by now...Anyways, I am still serving him even though he has forgotten about me. I am the forgotten angel, yet I want to make him remember me. I see the light and I shall follow it to the very end. Nothing can turn me away from serving my god.

DB: Before you go, one last question, who are you most afraid of in this tournament? 

Azrael: I'm going to be honest now, it's that Jerry Bishop guy. He might seem like a jester but he can kick everyone's ass if he wanted to. I respect him more than anyone else in this business, however, the only way I can face him is by reaching the finals with him. And in no way in hell am I going to underestimate any of my future opponents in this tournament, as everyone has their special traits that you cannot prepare for. 

Azrael then tells DB to leave and then closes the door slowly and starts meditating. He is praying for god to help him in his match against Marcus and for a chance to face Jerry Bishop in the finals of the tournament.

[Deleted]

We fade in on an empty and ruined office space, from the perspective of a PC's webcam. There are broken tables, a chair hanging out of a broken window and every other PC in the place is wrecked, including one somehow on fire. The sound of a swivel chair rolling along the floor can be heard for a few seconds before Davis Reynolds comes riding a swivel chair in from off screen, spinning around a few times before grabbing the edges of the desk to stop himself.

Davis: HELLOOOOO to all you crazy fucking bastards over there at Freedom Pro Wrestling, Anarchy! HAS! ARRIVED!

Davis starts clearing everything off of the desk in front of him including mugs of coffee, a notepad filled with boredom-induced doodles from that meeting last week and a beloved photo of an employee's loving wife and children, before finally unplugging the keyboard and hurling it straight through the glass window behind the desk. He slams his fists down on the now empty desk before he continues.

Davis: But unfortunately, this is not about Anarchy the team, the unit that's defeated every single challenge to come their way! No, this is about the man himself, the muscle, a guy I've seen break drunken barfighters in half like fucking twigs! The One Man Riot, KASSIUS FUCKING BOONE!

A large, muscled man in jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie walks on screen, resting a sledgehammer on his shoulder and carrying a starbucks cup in one hand. He takes a sip from the cup before turning his attention to the webcam.

Boone: Hi.

Davis: On the upcoming first EVER episode of Freedom Pro Wrestling my dear friend, ally, and platonic soul mate Kassius Boone is facing some bloke called, hold on a second...

Davis checks the notes he made on his hand, now obviously very smudged.

Davis: Adem Tompsom? Must be foreign.

Boone: He's called Adam Thompson.

Davis: It doesn't matter what his name is Boone, because when you put Adem or any other man, woman or child in the ring with the One Man Riot, there's only one possible result: their complete and total destruction!

Boone puts down the hammer and pulls Davis' chair back, leaning right into the webcam.

Boone: Look Adam, you and I have never shared the ring before and have never even talked. Hell, you probably didn't even know I existed until now. But I've had my eye on you for fucking years, just like so many others. You excelled back in Britain and you know what, I can sure as hell respect that. But if there's one thing I can't stand it's your attitude.

Boone downs his drink, throwing away the cup before continuing.

Boone: You think you're better than everyone else. Everywhere you go you immediately try to take your place at the top of the mountain, and I won't fucking stand for it. I know you're capable and I know it won't be easy, but at FPW on August 20, when you and I step inside that ring, well... Prepare to be humbled.

Boone immediately walks straight off screen, leaving Davis looking incredibly annoyed.

Davis: What the fuck dude? I had a whole script in my head and everything! You can't just do that, we talked about this!

At that exact moment, the door behind Davis opens and in walks an elderly security guard. He looks around, shocked, before yelling and Davis.

SG: Hands up kid!

Davis: Fucking run Boone!

The camera cuts to black.

[Deleted]

The lights go off as the intro to Azazel's theme plays. He appears on the ramp amidst smoke, carrying a burning torch. He walks to the ring under it's light. He sets the torch on the turnbuckle while sitting under it's light in the same corner. He waits for the music to die down and sits cross legged, his eyes closed. Finally he opens his eyes and picks up the mic.

Azazel: This is day one of the epoch of Azazel. Inspiration and integrity aren't the qualities that my reign of terror will inculcate. Fear is the only value I want you all to learn. Fear this ring. Fear my flames. Fear the Night....Fear me. But fear, they say, is a direct result of actions. Unspeakably terrorising actions. You'll see fallen angels, gifted fighters, war goddess wannabes, masked men who hide their fear behind covers.

Fuck them.

I can do things none of these false warriors can dream of.

I asked for one lamb every week, Jim. Let me begin my slaughter for tonight and show to these people that the only thing to fear is .....fear itself.

Azazel blows his torch off. A dim spotlight shines in the centre of the ring where Azazel has moved to. He sits cross legged, looking at the ramp for his opponent.

Azazel: Step up....or fall.

[Deleted]

We fade in on the Chicago Field Museum of Natural History, It's busy with a large crowd out front. A black car pulls up at the side of the road, and out steps Adam Thompson wearing a suit and sunglasses. He sits down on the hood of the car, looking on at the museum and starts talking to the camera.

Adam: You know Boone, I've always been a fan of the sciences. How chemicals react and combine to shape our world and how physics defines the very laws of our existence. But more than any other subject I hold a deep interest in biology, the science behind living beings. The very science that created you and me. And my cat.

Adam takes off his sunglasses and looks at all the people around him, and starts to talk again.

Adam: The science of biology made all these people. Black and white, male and female, bald, bearded, straight, gay. It made all of them different, radically so. It does the same with all people, with every single living creature on this planet.

He stands up and starts making his way toward the museum, the camera following him as he goes.

Adam: The very same can easily be said for us. Biology makes some people tougher, stronger, simply naturally better than other people. Here's where I've got a surprise Boone, you are better than me. You were simply born stronger and more resilient, it's just a pure fact. But I've worked hard my whole life. I fought hard to break into this business.

Adam gets to the front of the museum, walks up the steps and holds the door open, pausing before going in.

Adam: Boone, believe me, when we stand face to face in that ring there's only one man who'll walk out victorious. The Pendragon.

He walks into the museum and the camera fades to black.

[kingclutch]

"This Fire" hits as the crowd erupts into cheers. Richard Crowley, Esq. comes out first followed closely by Clutch. Clutch is all smiles as he takes in the reception that he is getting. He goes to his knees, bows his head and mouths something that can't be seen by the fans. He brings his head back up, goes to one knee and pulls his arm back as if to do the "bow and arrow" pose. Shooting his left arm out, he shouts "LET'S GO!" as he rises fully to his feet. He high fives the fans on the way down, even stopping to take a selfie with a younger fan. Crowley though, looks on all of this with staunch disapproval.

They get to the ring and Crowley hastily grabs a microphone.

RC: "Ladies and Gentlemen, as you might already know, my name is Richard Crowley and I am The Advocate for God's Gift to Wrestling, Mr. Clutch McCloud. But I must take this moment to express my displeasure with the decision to have my client in a "qualifying" match. My client is one of the most qualified wrestlers in the whole world, having taken his talents all over America and even into Japan."

Clutch grabs his own microphone.

CM: "You know Rich, maybe we shouldn't get carried away. I'm stepping into the ring with some amazing competitors. Sabre, a mainstay of independent wrestling and Jeremiah Johnson, a phenomenal and methodical fighter, a modern day gladiator. These men are worthy of our respect and I'm just glad that I have a chance to compete to be the first FPW Champion. I'm going to let my actions speak for me and Sabre, Jeremiah, make no bones about it I am going to give you everything I have and I will turn you every way but loose.

The crowd responds with a huge pop and Clutch takes a moment to soak it in.

CM: "Who will protect this house?" Clutch holds the mic to the audience.

Crowd: "I WILL! I WILL! HOOO!"

[Deleted]

Darkness
THUMP! THUMP,THWACK! THUMP! The noise is meat, tape and brick.

Fade in. Far shot. Hallway.
Jeremiah Johnson is topless. His gray workout shorts have turned black with sweat; his hands are taped up and bloody; his form is still solid.

Pan forward. Med Shot Johnson. Waist up.

THUMP! THUMP, THWACK! THUMP! The combo is standard: jab, jab-straight, jab.

Jeremiah Johnson turns to the camera. Sweat drips from his brow into his eyes. His scowl is permanent. His eyes glow under the hard light of the hallway. Johnson raises his bloody fists in front of the camera.

"This," his voice moves gravel, "these fists can be many things. They hold the food that feeds me and I call them friends," his glistening body heaves, "these fists brought me to victory ten times in my MMA career," Johnson leans in closer, his mouth above both fists, now dripping with blood, "these fists are a symbol of my determination. I will give everything I have...and if my head gets fuzzy because I can't breathe; or my body hurts because it's been through Hell...I'll give more."

Johnson puts his fists down, keeping his eye on the right fist, "Clutch. I hope you live up to your nickname of "God's gift to wrestling. Because I'm going to return the gift to its sender. The fans that cheer for you will be quick to cheer for me, once they see that I've knocked out their has-been hero...but I'm sure you're used to being a has-been," Johnson looks at his left fist, "Sabre. Your career is the stuff a legend could be made of. Too bad you don't have the skill to back it up. Try to get some help and I'll make sure they don't interfere with me."

Johnson walks in a circle with his hands on his hips before re-addressing the camera, "We've got a triple threat for the qualifier. I'll tell you this, Clutch; I'll tell you this, Sabre: Be prepared: eat clean, meditate and train harder than you ever have; because when you're in a fight with 'The Brawler' Jeremiah Johnson, you're in for the fight of your life."

Johnson holds his bloodied fists apart, tensed at his sides, palms up; his entire body flexes, "I'm Jeremiah Johnson. Come get me."

Johnson assumes his stance.

Fade out.

THUMP! THUMP, THWACK! THUMP!
Darkness

[Deleted]

* The scene opens to a darkly light room, a man in black sits in a wooden chair, a dog collar around his neck, the chain dangling to the floor, clinks of the steel chain sound as it scrapes the floor*

"Azazel, you are unaware of my presence, of my existence, and most of all, my abilities."

*The man begins to play with the chain of the dog collar, shuffling it in his hands.*

"You know, I would much rather be a dog, than a human being in this life ...

Dogs can sense things that the average human, cannot. Leading me to believe that, I, myself might just be a dog in a man's body."

*The man reaches to light a candle with a match, the candlelight reveals the "Insane Homicidal One", Justice Legal.*

"I can sense the fear in you, Azazel. The pieces of a lost, broken man. The product of a broken life."

*Justice Legal leans into the camera lens, his elbows on his knees, bent toward the camera.*

"I am here, to accept your challenge, and boy do I hope you accept my offer to go toe - to - toe on the pilot episode of this brand new battlefield, because I will be there, looking for a fucking fight, just remember ... 

Pain is Justice, and It's Legal."

*The scene closes as Legal blows out the candle.*

[Deleted]

Athena is sitting in her locker room, and the camera slowly crawls from a shot of her feet, upwards until the camera contains only a profile shot. She begins: My opponent for the debut episode of Freedom Pro Wrestling has been announced. Some jobber named Freja? I did not ask for jobbers when I came here, I asked for a challenge. This is pathetic. Athena pushes herself up off of the bench, and the camera pans over to show her storming out of the room.

[Deleted]

After Justice Legal's message plays out on the tron, Azazel smirks.

Azazel: I asked for a lamb and you give me a mutt, Jim?

Azazel takes out a lighter from his jacket and flicks it on, watching the flame as he starts to speak again.

Azazel: In this world, there is a ceiling for everything. Cats can be as small as your palm and as big as a car. This fire can be powerful enough to burn the jungle and powerless enough to be...

He blows the fire out with a light blow.

Azazel:....snoozed off. That's the difference between these abominations that pose as fighters and I. They'll be blown off like the little candles they are.

But I'm the greatest flame you've ever seen.

And this runt is cutting it close. He wants to see the pretty flames, does he? He wants to get just a little more closer to admire the dancing chemicals?

THEN LET HIM BURN.

I accept your challenge, Justice Legal. Stop fucking around with your cosplay outfit and bring your ass to me.

[Deleted]

Freja is walking around the corridor as Dasha Banks arrives with her cameraman.

Dasha: Freja, I was hoping to get a word from you about your opponent for the first card of FPW, Athena Dai.

Freja: What's there to say about her, Dasha? Naming yourself after a goddess doesn't make you one. But do you know why I'm called the Ice Queen?

Dasha: Umm, why?

Freja: Ever touched ice? It's so cold it burns.

Freja lifts her fists to her face.

Freja: When these babies connect, it's the very same feeling, Dasha. They hurt. I've broken the bones of so many women like her. She's just in my way.

But my message to every person in the audience watching us is this.

Get inspired. Fight those bullies. Fight everyone who tries to put you down because they minute they underestimate you, that's the second you have to turn the tables.

Let's see who jobs on August 20th.

Freja walks on as Dasha watches her leave.

[Zeke]

(Sorry internet went down, on mobile and forgot my password)

So. I'm booked for a triple threat match. Against two imbeciles. For a chance to fight against Azazel? Listen up. I came here to kill legends. Not some no name wannabes. Regardless. I'll play along for now.

[Jim Houston]

The room is dark. On one side, a bench can just be made out, vials of different sizes containing different colours sit upon it. On the opposite side a series of switches reside, linked with a series of cables shackled to the wall. The light in the room comes from the far end, where a small spotlight is focussed on a table, upon which lies... something. The something is covered with a sheet. Just outside of the reach of the spotlight, a shape stirs. The shape moves, and a whirring sound can be heard. Slowly, the table begins to hinge in the middle and the top half lifts. The shape moves out of the shadows and a man is revealed. He wears a long, white coat and carries a clipboard. He moves to the near side of the room, lifting a vial of liquid and examining it closely. He returns to the table, where he lifts a tube and carefully pours the contents of the vial into the tube. The whirring sound stops for a moment. Replacing the sound is a bubbling sound, followed by a grunt.

The man gasps, slowly moving towards the table and pulling back the sheet. He stands for a moment before stepping backwards, once, twice. He then begins to speak with a strong French accent.


"Finally. After all these years. All this sacrifice. We are ready. We have achieved... success. Now onto step two. The testing... it will soon begin."

[Deleted]

We open to a comfortably appointed drawing room. There is a cheery fire burning in the fireplace, the floor is decorated with a tiger skin rug. On the rug is a high-back leather chair. In the chair sits the Masked Masterpiece, the Rapier Wit, the Cutting Edge, Sabre. Sabre puffs on a ridiculously long cigarette holder. He is dressed for leisure, decked out in his silver-and-black mask, as well as a velvet smoking jacket, sporting what we must assume is the Sabre family crest.

Sabre crosses his legs and puffs out a smoke ring. Finally he acknowledges his company.

Sabre: Ah. So you have come. How utterly delightful. Hello Freedom Pro Wrestling fans. Turn on your PVRs, or more likely for you peons, yer Vee-See-Arrs. Because you are witnessing history!

Sabre has another puff and blows a couple more rings.

Sabre: Here, you had thought you would sit through some mindless ape's spastic gargling about he or she is gonna win the match on the big wrasslin' show. And Lo! You have stumbled upon a chance to hear me, Sabre speak! You lucky luck simple people, I envy you. Truly. You may not have my riches, my fame, my body, my wit, esteem, indoor plumbing... BUT! You do have the incomparable privilege of witnessing Sabre grace your rings and TVs with his, which is to say, my, presence!

Sabre reaches for a tiny copper bell on the side table beside his chair. He gives it a ring, and a decrepit old man in a tuxedo appears. He carries a silver tray with a snifter of Cognac upon it.

Sabre: It will be a grand thing, I promise you. Not one, but two "worthy" opponents to be trounced by Sabre, me, in a single night!

Sabre takes the brandy, swirls it and takes in the bouquet. Finally he takes a sip, savouring the flavours.

Sabre: But do not think me an arrogant fool, taking his win over Clutch McCloud and Jeremiah Johnson for granted. Far from it, no! I know both gentlemen will prove an exciting challenge. Do I expect they shall just faint with terror? Submit before my entrance music subsides? Goodness no.

Sabre impatiently waves away the manservant.

Sabre: I expect them to give their game best before they are destroyed. It will be a grand evening. For you, the masses, for them, why even for me. I delight in know it shall be my first step toward the conquest of Freedom Pro Wrestling!

Sabre sips more Cognac, then chuckles merrily.

Sabre: Oh yes. Ha ha ha. Conquest of Freedom! How utterly delicious! Oh well done! Hah hah!

And then Sabre stops laughing, sets down his drink and leans forward. Seriousness is the face his mask covers now.

Sabre: But now I grow bored of you rabble. Show yourself out.

Fade.