“COMING IN WITH A BANG”
SOMEWHERE ELSE
Click.
The Slaughterhouse logo flickers in glowing neon.
The logo hangs in the air, contrasting against the night sky, illuminating the sky around it ever so slightly. We linger on the image for a moment before, in the distance, we hear what sounds like a fuse being lit. And then…
BOOM!
We hear the sound of an object flying through the air, soon revealed to be Junkrat himself, soaring high through the air and busting through the logo, flying towards the camera and CRASHING onto the deck of a boat below! He flips head over heels over and over again, barrels and crates turned to splinters as the Very Identified Flying Object finally comes to a rest.
At the feet of Captain Scrimshaw.
The Salty Sea Dog is sitting in a rickety old chair, a bottle of rum in one hand, a whiskey glass in the other. As he looks down at Junkrat, he looks to his bottle and glass before rolling his eyes and tossing the glass to the side, drinking straight from the bottle instead.
“Yer early.”
Junkrat jumps to his feet and points to Scrimshaw with a look of glee on his face.
“But of course! I had to show up early with the element of SURPRISE on my side!”
Scrimshaw seems to barely be paying attention as Junkrat wonders along the deck, animated as ever.
“And now that I’m here, I shall-”
He stops, seemingly losing a few inches of height. He looks down at his feet, the smile slipping from his face as he realizes his foot has now become stuck in a rusty grate on the ship’s deck. He pulls at it, trying and failing to free himself.
“Oh bugger. I… I’m gonna need a few minutes.”
Scrimshaw continues drinking from his bottle, only looking towards Junkrat after finishing half of it.
“Ya know, I wish I could say I didn’t see this coming, but then I’d be lying to ya. Now, I’m going to give ya a bit to get free, then I’m gonna kick yer ass. Deal?”
However, his words soon fell on deaf ears as Junkrat began rambling off profanities to himself, pulling at his foot in a feeble attempt to free himself from the grate. Scrimshaw looks at his bottle and begins to slowly finish it off, taking his time.
“You can make a bomb out of anything, but you can’t get yer foot out of a grate.”
The scene fades out as we see Junkrat somehow free one leg only to trap the other in its place.
“Dumb ass.”
“CONVERSATIONS”
BACKSTAGE
A frantic Alton Whitlock is searching the halls of The Slaughterhouse for Blackveil. If anyone knows where his wife is, it’s her.
“Hey, have you seen Blackveil?”
“Have you seen Blackveil?”
“Have you seen…”
“Hello Mr. Whitlock, looking for me?”
Blackveil is staring at him with Vivian next to her who’s making a point to not even look in Alton’s direction. With them is a tall woman with hard features.
“Actually, I was looking for my wife. Viv, can you please talk to me? I didn’t even know you were safe until now. Please give me a chance.”
“I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Whitlock”
Her words cut him like a knife and for the first time in a long time, Alton is left speechless. Silence lingers in the air until the tall woman speaks.
“However, I have plenty.”
She extends her hand for a handshake.
“Hi, I’m Cheryl Stein, nice to meet you.”
Alton shakes her hand and she continues.
“I am the divorce attorney your wife hired and if you follow me, we can talk in private to discuss the details of the settlement.”
A dejected Whitlock follows her into a back room.
“Now Mr. Whitlock…”
We go back to Blackveil and Vivian as we see them get approached by an officer Blackveil recognizes as the man who arranged the meeting at Ryker’s.
“Are you Mrs. Whitlock?”
Vivian nods.
“Do you mind if we talk?”
Vivian looks at Blackveil for permission. Blackveil grudgingly nods and Vivian follows the officer to the same room she was with Blackveil in last week.
“Now Mrs. Whitlock…”
Cut.
MONTY STRAIGHT VS. X VS. SIGIL
Two contestants and the host of their gameshow stand in the ring, waiting for the bell. With a title on the line, even more emphasis is placed on this episode of Monty’s show.
DING! DING! Sigil charges towards X, who winds up and takes a huge swing at The Collector, but Sigil disappears and X swings at the air with that robotic arm! Sigil appears behind Monty Straight! Kick to the back of the knee, dropping Monty to the other!!!
A STIFF KICK TO THE BACK OF STRAIGHT’S HEAD LAYS HIM OUT COLD!!!
Once again, Sigil cosmic leaps!
He appears behind X!!!
But X is a quick study!!! He’s ready for it!!!
GAGOOSH!!! A BIG TIME UPPERCUT FROM THAT ROBOTIC ARM SENDS SIGIL INTO THE AIR AND SPIRALING TO THE MAT!
TONGAN DEATH GRIP ON SIGIL WITH THAT SAME BIONIC ARM!!!
The immense pain from that robotic arm sends jolts through Sigil’s entire body! The Collector uses his free hand to dig into his bag.
SIGIL PULLS A MAGNETIC PLATFORM FROM HIS BAG AND TOSSES IT TO THE MAT!!!
“ACTIVATE!” Sigil screams between his grit teeth!
SHEEEYANK! X HAS TO LET SIGIL FREE! THE MAGNET HAS X TRAPPED TO IT BY HIS BIONIC ARM!!!
Sigil stands up and dusts himself off just in time to catch a clothesline from the Straight Shooter! Sigil kips up and strikes at Monty, but Monty ducks and locks legs with the Collector!
RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP TO CROSSFACE SUBMISSION!!! TERMS AND CONDITIONS BY MONTY!!!
Sigil once again cries out in pain!!! X is still stubbornly trying to free himself from that magnetic embrace!!! Monty is in complete control!!!
SIGIL IS ABOUT TO TAP OUT!!!
“Free me,” X screams! “FREE ME!”
“DEACTIVATE!” Sigil screams, and X lifts his arm easily from the magnet platform and delivers a boot into the side of Monty’s neck, forcing Straight to break the hold!
Monty stands up to his feet and is simply clotheslined over the top rope by an enraged X!!
SIGIL ROLLS X UP WITH A SCHOOL BOY TECHNIQUE!!!
ONE!!!
…
TWO!!!
…
THREEEEE!!
Sigil has done it!
NO!!! X kicked out with not a nanosecond to spare.
Sigil and X reach their feet at the same time!
EXECUTION FROM X!!!
No!! A cosmic leap once more from Sigil frustrates the living fuck out of X, who roars, expressing those feelings of frustration!!
SIGIL REAPPEARS!!! FINITE!!! THE ROUNDHOUSE KICK TO THE JAW!!! X STAGGERS BACKWARDS!!!
PLANESWALKER!!!!
NO!! X SIDE STEPS IT!!!
EXECUTION WHILE SIGIL IS FLYING THROUGH THE AIR!!! THE DOUBLE AXE HANDLE CRASHING DOWN AND DRIVING SIGIL INTO THE MAT!!!
X HOOKS THE LEG!!!
ONE!!!
…
…
TWO!!!
…
…
THREEEEEEEEE!!!!
X has once again successfully retained his Slaughterhouse Championship! With yet another huge victory tucked in the proverbial cap, the question remains. Will anyone be able to take it!?!
“DOSAGE”
SOMEWHERE ELSE
The Asylum
We cut to a shot of the Asylum, Mez’s hulking frame filling the screen as he sits in a clinical room. A white coated doctor has an array of syringes laid out across a table and Mez is strapped into his chair so that he cannot escape. The doctor holds up a syringe and turns to face Mez.
“Time for your medicine.” He taps at the syringe. “I hear you’ve got a big night ahead of you. A new friend to play with.”
It is at that moment that the door swings open and Mr Johnson enters, adjusting his tie as he strides across the room.
“Indeed it is.”
He notices the syringe in the doctor’s hand, ready to be administered and tilts his head to the side.
“Just a single dose tonight please. I thought I expressed that very clearly. Half of the usual dosage.”
The doctor rises, laying the syringe down on the table with the others.
“I am aware. But the guidelines are very clear in this patient’s particular case. As his doctor…”
He is cut off abruptly by Mr Johnson.
“I know damned well what the guidelines state. Who do you think wrote those guidelines. This is an unprecedented case, so I looked over every detail myself. So if I say a single dosage, you damned well give him a single dosage.”
The doctor picks up a second syringe, noticeably less full than the first.
“We have no way of knowing what impact this will have. Without the prescribed dosage…”
Again, Mr Johnson cuts him off, this time with a sly grin forming on his face.
“Playtime should be fun. He has a new friend to play with who has been dying to get his hands on him. I want Veritas to see exactly what he is meddling with. We have enough dosage for the transport to the Slaughterhouse. I will take the second half of his dosage with me, in case things get a little… hairy.”
The doctor doesn’t look pleased, but Mr Johnson has spoken. He shakes his head and stabs the needle into the arm of Mez. Mez’s eyes widen for a second and a wild look comes over them before they fall lifeless and glaze over. Mr Johnson undoes the straps on Mez’s chair himself and guides him to his feet.
“Very good Mez. Now, come along. We shouldn’t keep the man who wants you to run free waiting, should we?”
Cut.
“BALANCE”
BACKSTAGE
In the midst of smoke and darkness, we find an interesting scene.
Sat upon his throne of skulls, Papa Legba seems amused by the visitor that has come to his domain.
The Judge.
Almost fitting into the darkness, Judge stands firm with his ax slung over his shoulder and fire in his eyes. He did say he would be coming for Legba eventually.
“It’s good to see you again, my friend.” Legba welcomes. “Perhaps the battles to come will go smoother for us all if we were to reach an agreement.”
There’s that grin from the Gatekeeper.
“There will be no deal.” The Judge cuts him off. “My mission will not be compromised by your foolish actions. Do you believe that your barbed agreement with Ignatius will bring you glory?”
Legba merely raises an eyebrow.
“I thought as much.” Judge continues. “I serve balance. My gaze is locked upon the assassin, but rest assured that your actions have not left my periphery. You persist in tipping the scales in your favor time after time, but I warn you that it will not last. You are on a fool’s errand, with the destination bringing you face to face with judgement for your actions. ”
Papa Legba places his cane across his lap, a surefire sign of hostile intentions.
“Every deal I’ve ever made has been of the other person’s free will, Judge. Surely that’s the most balanced thing of all.”
“I am the most balanced thing of all.” Is the reply.
“You offer judgement.” Legba says. “I offer freedom. Which do you think will be chosen?”
The Judge nods slowly.
“That is your mistake, Legba.”
He turns to walk out of Legba’s sanctum.
“I don’t offer a choice.”
Cut.
JUNKRAT VS. SCRIMSHAW
SINGLES MATCH
This powder-keg of a rivalry looks to explode tonight as the short-fuse Junkrat seeks to commandeer Scrimshaw’s cannon. The ornery old seadog, meanwhile, just wants some peace and quiet.
Junkrat damn-near rips his own leg off to escape the rusted grate. Scrimshaw puts up his dukes as the ship’s bell rings. They’re joined by a referee who looks a little green around the gills. The volatile Junkrat swings at Scrimshaw, who ducks it and grabs him in a headlock. They jocky back and forth until Junkrat rams the Captain spine-first into the mast, breaking free. Junkrat throws another punch but cracks his fist off the mast and howls in pain! Scrimshaw grabs him by the scruff and drags him over to the ship’s wheel…
HE SHOVES HIS HEAD BETWEEN THE SPOKES and CRANKS THE WHEEL, applying sickening torque to Junkrat’s NECK!
Junkrat manages to elbow him in the gut and frees himself. They trade punches, the aging navy boxer holding his own. Junkrat reels from a haymaker and leans on the taffrail. Scrimshaw advances –
The pyromaniac WHIPS HIM ACROSS THE FACE with a length of UNLASHED RIGGING!
Temporarily blinded, Scrimshaw staggers into the open captain’s quarters. Junkrat pursues him, but Scrimshaw SLAMS the door in his face and locks it! Junkrat yelps on the other side, but his muffled cussing quickly subsides. He can be heard scratching at the rusty old lock, and then…
BOOM! The door is BLOWN OFF ITS HINGES, narrowly missing Scrimshaw! Junkrat rigged it with explosives!
The two tangle once more, Scrimshaw wrestling Junkrat onto his desk and sending navigational equipment flying. Something metallic glistens in Junkrat’s eye amidst the struggle. He reaches up and retrieves…
IS THAT A CUTLASS!?
Scrimshaw backs off, eyeing Junkrat warily. To his surprise, however, Junkrat tosses him the sword –
AND ARMS HIMSELF WITH THE OTHER ONE!
The sound of clashing steel soon fills the air as the swashbuckling rivals work their way out of the captain’s quarters, up the stairs and across the aftercastle deck, then down the neighbouring stairs. Junkrat slashes Scrimshaw’s blazer open, but Scrimshaw responds by stomping a loose plank – WHICH STRIKES JUNKRAT IN THE NETHER REGIONS!
Junkrat hops up and down in agony before charging at Scrimshaw, and the duel continues across the forecastle deck! Scrimshaw displays fine technique, but Junkrat – the younger man – has greater stamina. The skipper finds himself on his knees at the bowsprit, those familiar sirens calling to him from the icy waves below. Junkrat disarms him.
“It’s over, ya crazy old codger!”
“Aye, lad… for you.”
BRASS KNUCKLES TO THE JAW!
Scrimshaw ROCKS Junkrat, who tumbles out of sight. The bloodied seafarer slowly returns to the main deck – but can find no trace of Junkrat. He smells the salty sea air, which rustles the rigging…
RIP-TIRE FROM THE MAST! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?
BOTH MEN CRASH THROUGH THE DECK TO THE GUN DECK BELOW!
The referee, somehow unscathed, peers over the edge of the wooden cater.
In the mess of splintered planks and tangled limbs, Scrimshaw’s arm rests atop Junkrat’s chest!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
In what will doubtlessly go down as the greatest maritime war since Napoleon, Scrimshaw has earned the victory!
Junkrat must now leave the salty sea dog alone.
“PHASE THREE”
BACKSTAGE
Sitting at a small table backstage, Mark Gouldern and Berkshire Ellison Greene are having a discussion. Several of their associates are standing around the room.
“So you’re making side deals now, huh?” BEG spits. “You got to get out more, Mark. You picked a hell of a bitch to go after.”
Gouldern sighs.
“We didn’t sign an exclusivity agreement, Greene. Our agreement has not been broken. Inferus will serve our needs nicely. The Judge will be a force tonight, and her help will be invaluable.”
BEG nods.
“Maybe. But Ignatius is who my eyes are on. You recruited the bitch, and the voodoo guy recruited the fire monster. Who do you think comes out the winner?”
“Fire is hard to control.” Gouldern replies, seemingly expecting this response. “Perhaps Papa Legba will find himself burned before the end of the night? Either way, our focus needs to be on execution tonight.”
He leans forward to look BEG in the eye.
“And not on Banzan and Darby.”
Greene snorts.
“We didn’t sign an exclusivity agreement, did we?” BEG retorts. “My focus is on that briefcase at the moment.”
“Good.” Gouldern says. “Inferus is in our pocket. We take down The Judge. We’ll exploit the monster and his master. Then we execute Phase Three of the plan.”
BEG raises an eyebrow.
“Phase Three? I don’t know that I remember that one.”
Gouldern shakes his head in disappointment.
“Perhaps you lost the paperwork in one of your dalliances. Just keep your eyes open, and you’ll know when it’s time.”
BEG shrugs.
“All of this idiots want to climb the ladder to success, but they don’t know we’re already at the top.”
The two men shake hands, Greene meandering off, grabbing at the ass of a large breasted female that’s apparently accompanying him. Gouldern is left alone, and he once again messes with his gauntlet, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Cut.
MEZ VS. VERITAS
SINGLES MATCH
Mez stands across the ring from Veritas. Will the Madman be triumphant at Invasion, or could nothing be further from The Truth here tonight?
The bell sounds and it’s Mez who is quickest off the mark, darting from one corner to another at Veritas with his masked head bowed. Veritas tries his best to shield himself from the attack, but Mez’s size advantage sends him tumbling back, dropping him and causing the back of his head to smash against the middle turnbuckle-
The huge GUT CHECK connects!
Vertias’ skull bounces off the second rope with a sickening thud! Mez then continues the early assault, stomping the life out of Veritas with that big size fourteen boot of his.
Mez has got Veritas on toast here. He backs right up and taps his knee before pointing at his grounded adversary. Mez runs diagonally across the ring once again and drives that same knee towards the head of Veritas, who in a last ditch effort to save himself from certain defeat slides beneath the bottom rope, causing Mez’s patella to CRACK AGAINST THE RING POLE! Mez’s groans reverberate around the Slaughterhouse, as he hops on one leg in some considerable pain. Veritas grabs at his standing ankle from outside the ring and sharply pulls on it, sending Mez FACE-FIRST INTO THE CANVAS!
The match is firmly back in the balance now as Veritas re-enters the ring; Mez returning dazedly to his feet. OFFENSE CHOPS to the exposed chest of Mez, one after the other! The Madman’s bosom begins to redden with each strike that connects. Veritas grabs Mez by the wrist, leaning him into the ropes for leverage and sending him across the squared circle. Mez’s momentum bounces him off the ropes on the opposite side. As he does, Veritas is there to meet him-
With a brutal THROAT SPIKE!
Mez reels back, coughing up blood which seeps through the holes of his mask! Veritas – not only sensing blood, but SEEING blood – looks to put Mez away the ROARING ELBOW to complete the sequence…
TRUTH AND RECONCILATIO- NO!
Mez telegraphs it with a DROPPED TOE HOLD! Veritas’ throat bounces off the top rope as he spins around in the same motion, straight into A HUGE FUCKING HEADBUUUU- NO!
Veritas raises his hands and rams his thumbs deep into the pierced holes of Mez’s mask-
HE’S GAUGING HIS FUCKING EYES OUT! Mez resists the temptation to quit momentarily, but THE EYE OF PROVIDENCE proves too painful even for The Madman to defy!
The referee calls for the bell and Mez drops to the canvas a broken and bloodied mess, whilst Veritas has his arm raised in victory!
“UNLEASHED”
RINGSIDE
The match is over, but Mez is not done yet. Before the Warden can get the straightjacket back on Mez, the Madman takes Veritas by the throat and lifts him up into the air.
HEAD CHECK! Veritas collapses back into the turnbuckle!
Mr Johnson by now has entered the ring and approaches calmly, as one would a rampaging horse. However, he is tossed aside by his patient and Mez seizes the warden’s bag. From inside the bag, he pulls out a knife and turns back to Veritas. He holds the knife at the ready and slashes at his foe, but Veritas rolls out of the ring and out of the way, collapsing to the floor at ringside.
Before Mez can continue, the ring is swamped by figures in white coats. A dozen handlers close in on Mez but he swats the off like flies. One particularly unlucky doctor catches the knife from Mez in the abdomen and collapses at his feet. The distraction doesn’t stop him from turning his attention back to Veritas once more, who has pulled himself to his feet by now and stands woozily against the guardrail. However, before he can go after him, Mez himself is stabbed in the buttocks. Mr Johnson hits him with a syringe. Almost instantly, Mez stops and stands in a catatonic state. Heavily breathing, Mr Johnson turns to Mez’s would-be freer.
“There. You see?” He shouts at Veritas with whatever energy he can muster. “You really want that unleashed on the general public? You with all your conspiracy theories, you’re blind to reality. Consider this a lesson. You’re lucky to have escaped with your life.”
Veritas says nothing. He climbs back into the ring and walks over to where Mez and the Warden stand. He waves a hand in front of Mez’s vacant face, then turns to Mr Johnson, not with relief but with rage in his eyes.
“What the fuck did you give him? You made him this way. If it weren’t for all the drugs you pump into his body…”
The warden stops him by waving his hand.
“I’ve had about enough of your incessant theories. Mark my words. You had your fun, Mez had his. Game over. Now he goes back where he belongs and you will not trouble me with this bullshit again.”
The warden takes Mez by the arm, leading the Madman away from the ring and leaving Veritas fuming behind him.
Cut.
IMAGINE
BACKSTAGE, THE MEAT LOCKER
The hallway is dark and the child is running, running, running.
Luke Storm chases after him. But he can’t catch up.
He keeps running. The hallway never ends.
Then, Luke Storm snaps awake.
The last thing he remembers is laying down in his locker room for a pre-show nap. But now that feels like hours ago. His eyes struggle to focus.
From the couch, he sees only strange, gray shapes, blurry in the darkness.
Then, a click, like someone switching on an intercom.
SeeSaw’s voice crackles through.
“WELCOME BOYS AND GIRLS….”
Luke Storm shoots up. But his eyes still fail him.
“…IT’S TIME FOR SEESAW’S TOYBOX!”
A darker shape darts among the still gray ones.
“This time,” SeeSaw says. “We’re gonna talk about a FILTHY LIAR.”
“A BIG, NASTY ADULT.”
“AN UTTER FAILURE!”
“Luke Storm.”
Storm tries to shake the fog from his head to no avail.
“A real good-for-nothing,” SeeSaw says. “Couldn’t save his career, couldn’t save his wife, can’t even save a kid!”
A shape sprints behind Storm, tapping him on the shoulder. Luke jumps.
“The only thing he’s good at is make believe!” SeeSaws squeals. “Just like me! Imagine that!”
“Enough,” Storm says.
Suddenly, Luke’s head clears: the shapes come into focus.
A door slams.
What Luke Storm sees as his eyes focus is himself. Rather, an army of cardboard cut-outs of him. Promotional material from Hands of Rage, he realizes. Some have LIAR written over them. Others, YOU CAN’T SAVE THEM.
Directly in front of Luke is a cardboard version of himself with the head cut off.
On his chest, scrawled in blood-red crayon: ALL MINE.
Luke Storm looks around the room. His chest heaves with adrenaline.
Then he notices the clock on the wall.
He overslept.
And playtime’s over.
LUKE STORM VS. SEESAW
HOUSE RULEZ CHAMPIONSHIP
We arrive inside the Meat Locker where the furious Luke Storm treads carefully; scanning the room for his deranged adversary, SeeSaw.
The sound of chains clanking can be heard from behind Storm, causing the House Rulez Champion to turn on a sixpence… THWACK! Storm spins straight into a HUGE HOG CARCASS that SeeSaw runs into him, knocking him off his feet!
The referee motions to the camera and this match is officially underway. SeeSaw lets out a few sadistic cackles in between motioning his fingers on top of his head and snorting like a proverbial pig. He then continues the early advantage by repeatedly jumping with two feet into the chest of Storm, which momentarily takes the wind out of the champion’s sails.
SeeSaw snatches at the locks of Luke Storm pulling him to his feet, before laying him face down on a nearby meat trolley. He stands behind it and begins pushing it aggressively towards a set of steps…
BUT STORM ROLLS OFF JUST IN TIME!
His body hits the cold hard floor with a thud, but the champion saved himself from a certain trip to A and E right there! SeeSaw’s maniacal smile now turns to one of ire. He turns to pick up a nearby trashcan and attempts to wrap it across the head of the knelt Storm… Only to walk straight into a BIG LOW BLOW!
SeeSaw – with the trashcan above his head – lets out a high-pitched whine before relinquishing hold of the trashcan…
OVER HIS OWN HEAD!
Mr Make Believe comically staggers around on the spot, allowing Luke Storm time to gain his composure after that difficult start. He takes a few steps back, sizing up the centre of the trashcan…
LIGHTNING STRIKE!
Storm scores with that signature super kick of his! SeeSaw stiffens on the spot like a meerkat before falling forward and bouncing off the floor with an almighty CLANK!
The momentum of the impact almost springs SeeSaw back to his feet; the trashcan sliding off his head as he returns to an upright position. His opponent in a complete daze; the champion senses the end is near. He fastens the meat hook to SeeSaw’s red dungarees before SLAPPING HIM IN THE FACE, bringing his opponent back to a semi-conscious state. As SeeSaw looks him in the eyes Storm scoffs:
“For all the children”, before grabbing Seesaw’s neck and falling back…
DOWNPOUR! The Codebreaker to SeeSaw whilst he’s attached to that damned hook!
Luke Storm begins to wind his opponent up and up until he’s hanging like a bat above the Meat Locker… Still, your House Rulez Champion!
IMAGINE II
THE MEAT LOCKER
Exhausted, Luke Storm looks up at SeeSaw hanging above him.
“Imagine this, motherfucker,” Storm shouts upward, his body tense with rage. “A world where you can’t pretend to be some kind of monster.”
“A world where everyone sees you for what you are,” continues Storm. “A child that refuses to grow up. A frightened boy who won’t take responsibility for himself.”
SeeSaw hangs there, eyes closed, unmoving.
“Imagine a world where you spend the rest of your pathetic life making up little games alone in a prison cell. A world where you can’t get to anyone with your sick tricks and mind games…”
“Because that world is real. Not pretend.”
A smile appears on SeeSaw’s face.
“Oh, Lukey, Lukey, Lukey…” he says. His eyes are still closed. “Don’t you want to play with me anymore?”
Storm looks up at him in disgust.
“All it takes is a little imagination, Luke,” says SeeSaw. His voice sounds different. Calmer. Softer. “We both love to pretend, don’t we?”
“Save it. I’m nothing like you,” says Storm.
SeeSaw’s eyes jolt open. They’re full of wild life.
“What’s real? What’s fake?” SeeSaw asks. “It doesn’t matter. That’s what the grown-ups don’t tell you. Nothing matters. Might as well pretend.”
“The kids matter,” says Storm. “Reality matters.”
“Nothing matters,” says SeeSaw. “Nothing matters… and playtime never ends.”
The lights of the meat locker cut out. Then a noise, like something crashing to the ground.
“Bye bye, Lukey.”
When the lights come back on, SeeSaw is gone.
Luke Storm stands alone, befuddled but victorious.
Cut.
KENNY FREEMAN VS. REDWING
SINGLES MATCH
Motivated by something that we can all relate to – the overuse of social media – Redwing looks to put a virtual gag on Kenny Freeman, while The Keyboard Warrior fights for an exclusive interview with the Red Knight!
The bell rings and Crimson Justice advances, but Kenny Tweetin’ Freeman holds up his hand. He pulls out a brand-new smartphone, replacing the one smashed by Redwing. Kenny points the camera at Redwing and starts livestreaming his own match! Redwing lunges at him, but Kenny sidesteps and yells “now!” to someone at ringside. It’s the woman whose stolen purse was returned to her by Redwing! She takes out her own phone to record Redwing, and is followed by nearly all of the front row. Redwing is taken aback by the influence of The Social Media Sensation. He looks to the referee, who shrugs – “He ain’t cheatin’. Rulebook don’t say nothin’ about cameras”.
Kenny tries to fire off a quick tweet and Redwing capitalises with a tackle. He slaps on a chinlock but Kenny rises to his feet and elbows Redwing in the gut to break his grip. Kenny hits the ropes and nails a running dropkick which sends Redwing packing to the floor. Redwing uses the barricade to pull himself up, having a sea of flashing cameras thrust in his face! He spins round, blinded –
SUICIDE DIVE BY KENNY FREEMAN!
The crowd pop for the daring maneuver as both men go down and the referee begins a 10-count.
1!
2!
Kenny recovers and motions for Redwing to “get up!”. He hops up and runs along the ring apron – slipping halfway – for a springboard attack, but Redwing grabs his leg…
DRAGON SCREW LEG WHIP INTO THE BARRICADE!
The fans wince at that one and turn their phones on Kenny instead.
3!
4!
Redwing shoots a stern look at the woman he helped at Lambs. She shamefully puts her camera away, followed by the others. Redwing rolls Kenny back into the ring and hauls him up, then drops him with the RETURN TO ARKHAM double underhook DDT!
ONE!
TWO!
…
NO!
Kenny kicks out at 2 and three quarters! He’s got a little fight in him, and Redwing likes that. He picks Kenny up, but receives a kick to the ribs. Freeman tucks Redwing’s head and pulls him back into a greasy-looking #MCM PILEDRIVER!
ONE!
TWO!
…
KICKOUT!
Redwing lives to fight another day! An exhausted Kenny slowly climbs to the middle rope. He snaps a photo of a standing but groggy Redwing, then dives off into a Blockbuster!
But the PROFILE PICTURE is PHOTOBOMBED as Redwing evades! Kenny rolls through and throws a punch at Redwing, who catches the arm and hits a GODWATCH ripcord knee to the jaw! Kenny hits the mat on all fours, and Redwing finishes it with the DARKNESS FALLS curb stomp!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Redwing triumphs! Per the stipulation, Kenny Freeman is now contractually forbidden from covering Redwing’s antics on his social media profiles!
“AGREED”
RINGSIDE
After a grueling match up that saw both competitors pushed to their limits, Kenny Freeman walks up the entrance ramp, applause pouring on him from the crowd who admire such large spirit in such a short stature.
In the middle of the ring, Redwing now stands, microphone held firmly in his grasp.
“Hey kid,” Redwing says.
Freeman turns around. “Yeah?”
Redwing exits the ring between the ropes and hops to the floor. The Red Knight walks right up to Kenny Freeman. The two competitors lock eyes.
The Caped Crusader extends his hand.
“Hell of a match.”
Kenny looks at Redwing.
Then at his hand.
Freeman grins and replies, “Agreed.”
He then takes Redwing’s hand and shakes it.
Redwing lifts Freeman’s arm and the crowd roars with approval.
Say what you will about the Slaughterhouse, it’s crowd, or it’s competitors.
But in a rare display of good sportsmanship from both of these lambs?
Everyone celebrates.
Redwing and Kenny smile at the thunderous applause.
Cut.
BLACKVEIL VS. ALTON WHITLOCK
SINGLES MATCH
It’s been a long time coming for this one! Do not expect a traditional match as Alton Whitlock is already foaming at the mouth to get his hands on Blackveil! Once one of the most respected politicians in the world, now the most despised! He has nothing to lose, let’s see what happens tonight!
DING! DING! Alton charges at Blackveil and hits a spear out of nowhere! He’s clubbing her with some vicious punches! If she wants equal rights, she’s going to get equal lefts as well! Left, right, left, right! He is brutalizing her but a bride pulls him off her! He rears his hand back about to hit her but he stops realizing it might be Vivian! Another bride tosses Blackveil’s umbrella to her! Alton turns around to go back to attacking Blackveil but she levels him with the umbrella! He falls to the mat with a thud and Blackveil is not done there!
WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS!
UMBRELLA SHOT AFTER UMBRELLA SHOT TO THE BACK!
SHE IS LEAVING BRUISES ALL OVER HIM!
BLACKVEIL BACKS UP GOING FOR THE ANNULMENT!
RUNNING PUNT! NO! HE DODGES THE KICK AND THROWS HER THROUGH THE ROPES OUTSIDE!
HE CHARGES WITH THE SUICIDE DIVE!
BLACKVEIL PULLS ONE OF HER BRIDES TO TAKE THE DIVE!
THE FORCE MAKES THE VEIL FLY OFF HER FACE! IT’S VIVIAN! ALTON STOPS TO CHECK ON HER!
He won’t have any time to see if she’s ok as the brides start mauling him with vicious stomps and kicks! She yells at them to stand him up! Blackveil grabs a chair and swings at a prone Whitlock! He jumps out of the way and she floors one of the brides with the chair! She’s shocked but Alton takes a chance and levels her with a full nelson facebuster driving her face first into the chair she’s holding! One of the brides tries to swing at him but now that he knows none of them are Vivian, he grabs her by the throat and chokeslams her to the floor!
HE HAS A GRIN ON HIS FACE! HE’S READY TO TAKE ON ALL THE BRIDES!
HE GRABS THE CHAIR! SHOT AFTER SHOT!
HE’S PLOWING THROUGH THEM LIKE FUNDRAISING EVENTS!
THRY’RE ALL DOWN AND HE THROWS BLACKVEIL BACK INTO THE RING!
HE CHARGES AT HER WITH THE CHAIR!
SHE DUCKS AND POPS HIM WITH THE LOW BLOW!
HE’S DOWN ON HIS KNEES COUPHING UP BLOOD ANDSHE FOLLOWS WITH THE PUNT!
THE ANNULMENT!
SHE COVERS!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
NO! FOOT ON THE ROPE!
She pulls him away from the rope and grabs the chair! She wedges his head between the seat and the backrest of the chair! He’s lying there as prone as can be and she runs at him again!
ANNULMENT AGAINST THE CHAIR!
SHE NAILED THE RUNNING PUNT AND WHITLOCK’S HEAD MY BE CRUSHED!
SHE COVERS!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
NO! FOOT ON THE ROPE!
She pulls him away from the rope and grabs the chair! She wedges his head between the seat and the backrest of the chair! He’s lying there as prone as can be and she runs at him again!
SHE GOES FOR THE PUNT!
NO!
WHITLOCK BLINDSIDES HER WITH A CHAIR THROW!
THE FORCE OF THAT THROW LEVELS BLACKVEIL AND HE FOLLOWS WITH A BETTER WORLD!
HE HITS THE VERTEBREAKER ON TOP OF THE CHAIR!
ALTON COVERS!
ONE!
. . .
TWO!
. . .
. . .
THREE!
He’s done it! He’s beaten the woman who has made his life a living hell but he is still seething and goes to attack her more!
“DIVORCE SETTLEMENT”
RINGSIDE
Alton tries to strike at Blackveil but the brides stop him before he can swing.
“The time for fighting is over.”
Cheryl Stein has gotten good at breaking silences over the years. Blackveil’s brides grab a table and a couple of chairs for Alton and Vivian to sit in. They sit across the table from each other.
“As I informed you, Mr. Whitlock, Vivian does not want to see you after tonight so all of us agreed on settling the divorce here in the ring. You have already read the agreement in thorough detail so now all that’s left to do is for you to sign.”
Cheryl Stein hands him the settlement on a clipboard and a pen. Whitlock with tears in his eyes defeatedly asks Vivian.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
Vivian confidently nods her head and Alton slowly signs barely able to hold the pen with how much his hand is shaking.
“Now that the hard part is out of the way, it is your turn to sign Vivian.”
Vivian looks like she is about to sign but throws the pen down and blasts Cheryl Stein with the clipboard, She follows with a powerbomb through the table! Alton is ecstatic but confused.
“I’m in no longer need of your services, Mrs. Stein. The officer showed me the true footage of what Alton said in jail. I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you. She got in my head and I just didn’t want to get hurt again.”
Vivian cries as she hugs Alton and Alton holds her close appreciating what he thought he had lost.
“Let’s go home.”
Alton excitedly nods his head, wraps his arm around Vivian and starts walking out of the ring. It’s not going to be that easy as the brides blast both of them with chairs! Blackveil looks like she is rearing up for a punt! She runs but stops short before the kick! She starts to cackle!
“Sorry for ruining your reunion, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. However, I’m just a distraction tonight as Cheryl has attorney’s fees that still need to be paid!”
Cheryl Stein pulls them both up by the throat and does a double chokeslam over the rope as Alton and Vivian crash to the floor. Cheryl opens her briefcase and reveals a black veil and places it over her head. Blackveil puts her arm around Cheryl and cackles louder.
“Sorry but you should know by now, Mr. Whitlock. I’m always going to be one step ahead of you and Mrs. Whitlock… you should’ve really gotten to know your sisters better before turning on one of them.”
“No one cancels my services!”
Cheryl goes to the side of the ring, grabs the back of Vivian’s hair and pulls enough to lift Vivian’s head off the floor. Blackveil hits the punt kick! Annulment! Cheryl lifts Alton’s head the same way and Blackveil hits another punt for good measure! Both are out cold as Blackveil, Cheryl, and the rest of the brides are hysterically laughing.
Cut.
“ALL THAT GLITTERS”
BACKSTAGE
Backstage, standing before a set of doors are Sigil and X, and between them stands the host of the game with a smile on his face, Monty Straight.
“So, what’ll it be gentlemen? Will you go for what you’ve always wanted, or what you never knew you needed?”
Monty turns his focus over to the Lethal Weapon first.
“What door you gonna go with, Mr. X?”
X glares at the host, a stern look on his face telling the story that Monty might not catch onto at first.
“I’ll be choosing neither. You have nothing that I want, Monty…nothing I truly need. I won’t be caught up in your little game, not when what I seek can never truly be delivered upon.”
A loud buzz draws the ire of the audience, but Monty is undeterred.
“I’m sorry X, but I’m afraid as touching as that story is, we cannot accept that as a response…but if you feel that strongly about it, we will assume you choose what you never knew you needed.”
A frustrated X takes his leave as Monty turns his attention to the Realm Walker, who looks rather eager by contrast.
“And what about you, Sigil? I know you’ve been eyeing the special prize we have in store, are you really to collect?”
Sigil nods, the door opening to reveal the contents within the box…a championship, almost identical to the Slaughterhouse Championship, but this belt has visible rust covering it. The smile on Monty’s face only widens at the sight of the prize.
“Well, I guess it’s true what they say…all that glitters ain’t gold. But we offer prizes far greater than gold here on The Show That Never–”
Monty’s ending spiel is interrupted as an angry Sigil grabs the rusted belt, slamming the door before storming off.
INAVSION
INVASION MATCH
Welcome to Invasion!
We have six invaders tonight, but only one can climb the ladder to retrieve the Invasion Briefcase.
Two kick off the match. Every four minutes, another invades.
The first person to scale the ladder and unhook the case becomes the Invasion Winner 2019 and will have the opportunity to invade on the OSW Champion any time in the next year.
The Slaughterhouse darkens and fire begins to burn around the outside of the ring. Flash flames that burn high and brightly, then fade away moments later, leaving only smoke. Smoke that fills the air thickly. When it dissipates, Ignatius stands along in the centre of the ring. The Black Flame looks up at the briefcase hanging above the ring.
Not a moment later, he is interrupted by a low hum. Chanting fills the air. From dozens of unseen voices, the hum gets louder and louder until Papa Legba appears at the Slaughterhouse entranceway. He points his cane in the direction of Ignatius and slowly makes his descent upon the ring.
Ignatius takes on Papa Legba!
*Ding Ding Ding!*
Legba holds up his hand and Ignatius stops in their tracks. He addresses the Black Flame without a blow being struck.
“We have a deal. You ensure I am the winner and I will free you from your prison. The die have been cast…”
He points his cane toward the large ladder standing at ringside. Ignatius obediently retrieves the ladder and carries it back into the ring, setting it up directly underneath the briefcase. They point upwards and Papa Legba begins to climb, without interference!
The higher Legba climbs, Ignatius begins holding their head, as if in pain. When the Gatekeeper is nearly at the final rung, The Black Flame begins smoking!
The final rung! Legba reaches for the briefcase! A winner crowned without all competitors even being in the ring. An Invasion winner who has not even taken an ounce of punishment. Surely not!
…
…
Surely not indeed.
…
Papa Legba gets but a fingertip to the briefcase before Ignatius cracks. They tip over the ladder, causing Legba to fall to the mat. Thankfully for the Gatekeeper, he lands on his feet, right next to his cane. He sweeps the cane up and CRACKS IGNATIUS OVER THE HEAD WITH IT!
Ignatius staggers back and Legba drops them… BLACK MAGIC!
With the Black Flame reneging on the deal, Legba holds his cane to their throat in THE UNSPOKEN while once more addressing them.
“We had a deal. And it had its consequences. You failed to hold up your end to the bargain. So here is mine. One soul taken to be mine eternally.”
Papa Legba breathes in deeply, palms outstretched over the Black Flame’s body. The spirit of a woman rises as a ghostly grey and is inhaled by Legba, whose eyes roll into the back of his head.
*BUZZ!*
INVADER!
“Good or evil, all will be Judged!”
The eerie voice booms out over the Slaughterhouse as the Judge arrives. He makes his way to the ring and steps over the top rope. Papa Legba is waiting for him with a BIG BOOT! STEEP PRICE! NO!
THE JUDGE CATCHES THE BOOT AND TWISTS IT IN HIS HANDS, TOPPLING LEGBA OVER!
LEG DROP ONTO PAPA LEGBA!
The Judge pulls Papa Legba up to his feet and Irish Whips him into the turnbuckle.
THE VERDICT! PAPA LEGBA IS TANGLED UP IN THE TURNBUCKLE AND CANNOT FALL!
AGAIN… THE VERDICT!
SHEER BRUTALITY FROM THE JUDGE!
The Judge seems to have taken a particular exception to Papa Legba claiming the woman’s eternal soul. With Papa Legba now out cold, a leg still tangled awkwardly in the turnbuckle, The Judge turns his attention to Ignatius.
Only, Ignatius is no longer in the ring.
A quick sweep of the surroundings finds the Black Flame lying on the ground outside the ring, still smouldering. Gutteral moans and cries escape it. The cries of many lost to the flame, now unable to control it.
With nothing else for it, The Judge rights the ladder and sets it up back under the briefcase. He begins to climb, slowly.
He makes it roughly half way up the ladder when…
*BUZZ!*
INVADER!
Berkshire Ellison Greene! BEG charges the ring at top speed, sliding in and making sure that he gets to The Judge in time. Judge had just about ascended the entire ladder when Greene grabs him around the waist and pulls him off.
POWERBOMB FROM THE LADDER TO THE JUDGE! THAT ROCKED THE EARTH!
The shaking of the ring from the impact was enough to free Papa Legba’s leg, and Greene soon finds himself in between two of the largest powerhouses OSW has to offer, and he’s the only one left standing!
Smiling to himself like a Cheshire cat, BEG turns to ascend the ladder. Only, he can’t. His foot is stuck!
Papa Legba has a hold of BEG’s ankle! BEG kicks the Gatekeeper free but Legba grabs him with his other hand and uses BEG to pull himself to his feet. Greene unloads a right hand to Legba that seemingly has no effect. A second strike yields similar results.
PAPA LEGBA UNLEASHES A STRIKE OF HIS OWN THAT SENDS BEG REELING!
BEG REBOUNDS OFF THE ROPES… SWINGING NECKBREAKER TAKES PAPA LEGBA DOWN!
GERMAN SUPLEX TO BEG! THE JUDGE NAILS HIM!
The Judge hurls BEG to his feet, tossing him around like a ragdoll.
BUCKLE BOMB!
BEG IS IN A BAD WAY!
The Judge once again turns his attention back to Papa Legba.
HE PICKS PAPA LEGBA UP ABOVE HIS HEAD! WHAT POWER!
GORILLA PRESS! HE TOSSES PAPA LEGBA UP AND OVER THE ROPES, OUT OF THE DAMNED RING!
Once more, The Judge is the only one left standing…
*BUZZ!*
INVADER!
This time, The Judge doesn’t have time to think about the ladder. Infernus makes her way to the ring, picking up a smaller ladder along the way and sliding it into the ring ahead of her. The Judge aims a hefty Lariat at her, which Inferus ducks under, darting across the ring and bounding off the ropes.
CLOTHESLINE STAGGERS THE JUDGE!
Inferus is up to her feet in no time, lining up a couple of swift kicks to The Judge’s mid-section before he pushes her away.
BOOM! ENZUIGIRI FROM INFERUS TAKES THE JUDGE DOWN!
Inferus turns to BEG, helping him to his feet while the Judge recuperates. The pair lean the smaller ladder up against the turnbuckle and BEG drags The Judge to his feet.
DOUBLE DROPKICK FROM INFERUS AND BEG! THE JUDGE IS SENT FLYING INTO THE ANGLED LADDER!
BEG grabs Inferus by the waist and shoulder and hurls her in the direction of the waiting Judge like a freaking lawn dart!
CRASH! INFERUS COLLIDES INTO THE JUDGE AT SPEED!
Meanwhile, outside the ring, Papa Legba pulls himself to his feet once more. He casts an eye over at the troubled Ignatius. The Black Flame lets out a groan, stands and proceeds to lash out at anything and everything within reach.
The monster wildly swings at a group of fans behind the barrier, hurls a steel chair in the direction of the ring and charges at Papa Legba.
IGNATIUS HAS LOST CONTROL! THE MONSTER HAS GONE BERSERK AT RINGSIDE!
Legba easily steps out of the way and Ignatius charges straight into the crowd barricade. At this point, it proceeds to slam its head over and over into the barricade, a chorus of cries and screams escaping it as it does so.
Papa Legba leaves the berserk monster and takes to the ring once more.
The Judge is lying idle on the lean-to ladder. BEG and Inferus stand toe to toe with Papa Legba. Only one thing is left…
*BUZZ!*
INVADER!
The final competitor arrived. Mark Gouldern brings his Combat 2.0 suit to the Invasion match. His TeleBoots transport him down to the ring in now time, and before Papa Legba has managed to even lay a hand on either of his alliance members, the Gatekeeper finds himself facing a three-on-one challenge.
Gouldern strikes first with a strike from his non-gauntleted hand. The strike lands squarely, but Papa Legba hits back… LARIAT TAKES OUT GOULDERN!
Inferus leaps onto Legba’s back and wraps her arms around his neck in a modified Sleeper Hold. She can’t get the hold locked in properly, BACKPACK STUNNER!
CHIP OFF THE OL’ BLOCK STOPS LEGBA IN HIS TRACKS! BEG PLANTS HIM WITH THE RUNNING BULLDOG!
BEG helps Gouldern to his feet and the pair set their sights on a recovering Judge. The Judge picks up the ladder he had been planted on. He tosses it across the ring, TAKING OUT BOTH GOULDERN AND BEG!
CHOKESLAM TO BEG!
CHOKESLAM TO GOULDERN… NO!
MARK GOULDERN HAS HIS TELEGAUNTLET HAND WRAPPED AROUND JUDGE’S NECK!
CHOKESLAM TO THE JUDGE! MARK GOULDERN LIFTED HIM UP WITH EASE THANKS TO THE GAUNTLET!
The Herald of the Future presses a couple of buttons on his Combat suit and four drones soon appear from the rafters. They descend upon the ring, picking up the spare ladder and carrying it to position between the ring and the crowd barricade outside to form a ladder bridge.
The drones then hover at ringside, that is until the rampaging Ignatius comes within range and swats all four of them out of the sky and into the crowd.
Inside the ring, Infernus and Gouldern take to work on Papa Legba. They hoist him to his feet. Both charge at opposite ropes. DOUBLE FLYING ELBOW! LEGBA IS HIT FROM THE FRONT AND BEHIND AT THE SAME TIME!
BUT THE GATEKEEPER DOESN’T GO DOWN!
DROPKICK FROM INFERUS RATTLES HIM BUT HE’S STILL STANDING!
BIG BOOT TAKES LEGBA OUT!
WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?
THE JUDGE! HE JUST TOOK OUT PAPA LEGBA WITH HIS OWN MOVE!
DOUBLE CHOKESLAM FROM THE JUDGE TO BOTH INFERUS AND GOULDERN!
There are bodies everywhere and the Judge surveys the carnage. Finally, he begins to ascend the ladder once again.
This might be his opportunity!
He reaches the top of the ladder! The Judge reaches for the briefcase!
…
…
But he misses it!
The ladder shakes and he loses his balance slightly!
BEG is climbing up the other side of the ladder with speed. The Judge turns his attention toward Greene but it is too late. He leaps across the ladder…
SWINGING NECKBREAKER OFF THE LADDER! THE JUDGE SLAMS INTO THE CANVAS!
HOLY SHIT, WHAT A MOVE FROM BEG!
Papa Legba is out. Ignatius has gone back to banging its head against a wall. The Judge is down. This leaves only the trio left.
BEG and Gouldern are the first to stand, meeting on opposite sides of the ladder as Inferus stirs ever so slightly. The stage is set for either BEG or Gouldern to seal the deal here, but which one?
BEG places a hand on the ladder, but Gouldern stops him with a resounding “no!”
“One of us has the opportunity. That was our deal Gouldern. Thanks for assisting me, now step aside!”
BEG steps around the ladder and pushes Gouldern in the chest. The Herald staggers backwards into the ropes and walks right into a backhanded slap from BEG! Greene then places his hand on the ladder again and begins to climb, but instead of reacting, Gouldern seems somewhat relaxed.
“Phase Two is complete, yes… And the path is set not for your victory but for Phase Three.”
He nods his head and Inferus climbs the ladder after BEG. She grabs him by the shoulder…
SITOUT SIDE-SLAM SPINEBUSTER FROM HALF WAY UP THE LADDER!
GOULDERN TURNS ON BEG AFTER BEG TRIED TO STAB HIM IN THE BACK!
INFERUS HAS JUST TAKEN BEG OUT!
Inferus and Gouldern take turns pounding on BEG, laying into him with a series of stomps first, then each taking a turn at mounted left and right fists. Gouldern stands and looks up at the briefcase, leaving Infernus to continue laying into BEG.
INFERNUS OPENS THE PATH FOR GOULDERN TO CLAIM HIS VICTORY!
Mark Gouldern begins to climb, the briefcase waiting above him. He nears the top of the ladder.
When he feels a strong hand on his leg.
PERFECT BALANCE OFF THE LADDER!
JUDGE TAKES OUT GOULDERN IN SPECTACULAR FASHION!
He then turns his attention on Gouldern’s only remaining ally. He peels Inferus off of BEG’s battered body.
HE LIFTS HER UP!
RESTORATION POWERBOMB!
HE TOSSES HER OUT OF THE RING, RIGHT ONTO THE LADDER BRIDGE!
HOLY SHIT!
The Judge takes his attention to the ladder, looking to climb for his victory. Only, there is already somebody on it. Papa Legba had snuck his way half way up the ladder without The Judge noticing. He tries to kick the Judge’s advance out of the way, but the Judge peels him off with his mighty strength.
POWERBOMB POSITION!
HE DIRECTS LEGBA TOWARDS THE ROPES! THEY BOTH CLIMB ONTO THE APRON
NO… NOT THERE!
SMASH!
RESTORATION POWERBOMB!
THE JUDGE AND PAPA LEGBA BOTH CRASH THROUGH THE LADDER BRIDGE ON TOP OF INFERNUS!
THE LADDER BRIDGE IS BROKEN IN HALF!
INFERUS IS BROKEN IN HALF! SHE TOOK ALL OF THAT IMPACT ON HER BACK… AND SHE DOES NOT LOOK TO WELL AT ALL!
HOLY HELL IN A HANDBASKET!
THERE’S CARNAGE EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK!
With that, it leaves only three.
Mark Gouldern. The Judge. BEG.
One of these men will be this year’s InVasion winner!
The briefcase hangs above them. There can be only one!
It takes an age for all three men to drag themselves back to their feet, but eventually they meet together in the ring. The three each exchange laboured blows, with neither one really getting an advantage over the other. The stalemate is broken by Gouldern who rattles BEG with a TeleGauntlet assisted shot to the guts. The Judge swoops in and clobbers Gouldern with a Double Axe Handle that sends him sprawling.
He continues the assault, aiming another clobbering blow but The Herald counters, driving a shoulder into the mid-section of The Judge.
RUTHLESS INSPIRATION!
THE DROPKICK SENDS THE JUDGE FLYING INTO THE LADDER, KNOCKING IT OVER!
Any momentum is short-lived, as Gouldern turns only to find BEG waiting for him.
INVERTED DDT TO GOULDERN!
MARK GOULDERN IS PLANTED DEAD CENTRE OF THE RING!
BEG scurries over to where the ladder lies, untangling the limbs of The Judge from the steel. He picks it up and centres himself in line with the briefcase, but there is a small problem. Mark Gouldern is lying on the ground right where he needs to set the ladder up. Greene doesn’t seem fazed by the speedbump and sets the ladder up right over the top of Gouldern’s body.
Wasting no time at all, he scales the ladder as quickly as he can still muster.
THIS IS BEG’S MOMENT!
HE REACHES THE TOP OF THE LADDER, STRETCHING OUT AND REACHES THE BRIEFCASE!
ONE HAND!
TWO HANDS!
HE HAS HOLD OF THE BRIEFCASE AND BEGINS TO UNHOOK IT!
…
WHEN THE LADDER DISAPPEARS FROM UNDER HIS FEET!
GOULDERN HAS USED THE GAUNTLET TO THROW THE LADDER OUT OF THE RING!
BEG HANGS IN MID AIR, HOLDING ONTO THE BRIEFCASE!
He can only hold the case for so long, and eventually will need to drop back down to Earth. What will wait him when he does?
BEG’s fingers begin to slip on the case. Eventually, the inevitable happens and he does plummet back to Earth.
But Gouldern is waiting for him, TeleGauntlet at the ready.
DISRUPTION!
HE HIT BEG IN MID AIR AS HE FELL!
GOULDERN NEARLY KNOCKED HIS DAMNED HEAD OFF HIS NECK!
BEG flies backwards, slamming into the turnbuckle and collapsing in a heap. Gouldern exits the ring momentarily, carefully retrieving the tall ladder without drawing attention to the rampant beast Ignatius, or disturbing the pile of broken limbs that is Inferus and Papa Legba. He slides the ladder into the ring, setting it up in position one more time.
Then, Gouldern begins to climb… But so does the Judge.
Both men climb simultaneously, exchanging blows as they do so.
Finally, when both reach the top, they have at each other properly. The power of the Judge is matched by the power of Gouldern’s Gauntlet. Booming strike after booming strike hit home. The stalemate continues for some time, but eventually it is broken. Gouldern lands a well timed blow right on The Judge’s chin, dazing him only momentarily, but it is enough.
PLANNED OBSOLESCENCE!
THE ELEVATED DDT OFF THE TOP OF THE FREAKING LADDER!
OH… MY…. GOD!
BEG is out cold. The Judge has just plummeted half way to hell.
Mark Gouldern climbs the ladder once more. There is nobody left to get in his way. He reaches the top and his fingertips touch the briefcase, still slightly swinging from having BEG hang from it earlier.
He steadies the case before reaching up his second hand to unhook it.
PHASE THREE PLAYS RIGHT INTO GOULDERN’S HANDS!
MARK GOULDERN RETRIEVES THE BRIEFCASE!
MARK GOULDERN IS YOUR WINNER FOR INVASION 2019!
THE HERALD OF THE FUTURE HAS JUST USHERED IN THE ERA OF GOULDERN!
He stays atop the ladder, clutching his InVasion briefcase to his chest. He stares down at BEG, who is beginning to come to only to see what he has lost. A knowing smile spreads across Gouldern’s face.
The Judge quietly exits the ring. Moving over to Inferus. He tosses the unconscious body of Papa Legba off her and grabs her by the foot, hoisting her into the air. Agonised screams escape her lips from her injuries and his rough handling, but he pays them no mind. HE simply drags her along behind him as he leaves, taking Inferus with him to her Judgement
But tonight belongs to Mark Gouldern, your InVasion winner!
“WANT & NEED.”
We’re just moments before the Main Event and Banzan is pacing the backstage area, preparing for what’ll be a phenomenal match.
His preparation though is interrupted by none other than Darby Sorrow.
Banzan immediately stops pacing, his face turning to a sour grimace.
“I know what you think,” Sorrow says honestly, with depth and meaning behind his words. He’s not here for a fight. “You think I hit you with that title belt on purpose.”
Banzan nods. “It looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“I didn’t,” Darby shares. “I was aiming for BEG and he moved. The truth is that I’ve had an offer from The Butcher that I can’t refuse. That much is certain. That doesn’t mean I want your Championship; it only means I need it.”
The Mountain nods stoically.
“I can appreciate your honesty,” he growls. “But what you need and want doesn’t concern me.”
“It did,” The Immortal retorts.
“That was before you struck me. I wanted you to seize the moment, Darby. I wanted you to live your life, not let your life live you. Despite that, all you’ve wanted to do is die.”
He nods in agreement.
“Perhaps, tonight, I can make your dreams come true.”
Both men share a look, a long look, before Banzan shakes his head.
“Or, perhaps, you’ll see that there’s more to living than dying.”
He slowly walks away, leaving Darby Sorrow to contemplate his choices. Will joining The Butcher be a wise decision?
Well, that match is up next.
Cut.
BANZAN VS. DARBY SORROW
WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
Banzan stands in his corner, practicing his various stances as Darby Sorrow slumps in his own corner, looking exactly like the kind of guy who wants to die.
This is it. The OSW Championship is on the line!
DING! DING! Sorrow immediately charges towards Banzan, and Banzan catches him right under the jaw with a viper strike! Another viper strike to the throat! He whips Sorrow into the ropes!
A SORROWFUL LIFE FROM DARBY! THE ROLLING CLOTHESLINE!
…But Banzan does not fall! Rooted to the mat with that Mountain Stance! Darby sends an uppercut straight into the champion’s jaw! But the Indestructible Mountain transitions back into his snake stance and once again drops Sorrow with the viper strike! Sorrow hits his knees!
CRANE KICK TO THE GRAVE DIGGER’S TEMPLE!
BANZAN MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!
…
TWO
…
NO!!!
Darby kicks out, somehow pulling his shoulder up in spite of the entirety of the champion’s weight holding him down!
Banzan moves to one knee and grabs Darby by the wrist! He begins bending Darby’s fingers backwards, far beyond what would feel comfortable! Sorrow screams out in pain! As a desperation attack, Darby reaches up with his free hand and rakes Banzan’s face!
A stiff punch to Banzan’s face follows! Another! Another! Finally, Banzan is forced to let go of Darby! Darby pulls himself up by the ropes! Banzan sends a thrusting forward kick at Sorrow, but Sorrow pulls the ropes down!
BANZAN TUMBLES AWKWARDLY TO THE OUTSIDE!!!
Darby pulls himself together while Banzan, who appears hurt from the awkward fall, gingerly tries to work his way back to standing. Eventually the Indestructible Mountain is able to pull himself to his feet!
SPRINGBOARD COFFIN DROP INTO BANZAN FROM DARBY SORROW!!! HOLY DICKS!!! BOTH MEN COLLIDE TO THE GROUND!!!
Darby Sorrow.
Banzan.
Both men laid out on the ground outside of the ring.
Both men, slowly, begin crawling to their feet!
The crowd roar with approval, both challenger and champion struggling to reach their feet before the other! It’s Darby who reaches his feet first though, and moments ahead of Banzan! Sorrow clutches his nearby shovel, moves to Banzan, and swings it down at the Mountain’s head!
BANZAN TUMBLES OUT OF THE WAY! HE SENDS A PALM THRUST INTO DARBY’S GUT!
DARBY DROPS THE SHOVEL AND HAUNCHES OVER!
LEGSWEEP FROM BANZAN! SORROW HITS HIS BACK!
SORROW KIPS UP! HE HAS THE SHOVEL!
WHACK!!! RIGHT ACROSS THE SIDE OF BANZAN’S HEAD!!!
Banzan staggers backwards into the guard rail!
Sorrow grabs Banzan and attempts to move him towards the ring!
But Banzan transitions to Bear Stance!
DUKKHA! THE SAITO SUPLEX STRAIGHT INTO THE FUCKING GUARD RAIL!!! DARBY HITS THE GROUND LIKE A CADAVER DROPPED INTO A GRAVE!!!
Banzan lifts the challenger to his feet, allowing him to rest against the guard rail! The Indestructible Mountain CHOPS Sorrow so hard, he flips over the guard rail into the crowd!
Sorrow lands into the front row, and they cheer him on and pat him, begging him to get up and keep fighting! Sorrow makes his way to his feet! Banzan reaches over the guard rail for Sorrow, but Sorrow is faster and grabs Banzan first!!!
STUNNER!!! STUNNER!!! BANZAN’S NECK IS HUNG ACROSS THE GUARD RAIL AND NOW HE MIGHT NEED A TRIP TO THE GOD DAMN HOSPITAL!!!
Banzan clutches his neck and rolls around the floor. Sorrow takes the boost of adrenaline and utulizes it, hopping over the guard railing to find his trusted shovel. He places it on Banzan’s neck!!! He lifts it up!!!
AND JABS THE SHOVEL STRAIGHT INTO BANZAN’S NECK!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!
Sorrow tosses his trusty shovel in the ring and struggles to drag Banzan to his feet. Finally he settles on draping the big man over the ring apron and shoving him into the ring.
DARBY PURSUES QUICKLY AND MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!!!
…
…
TWO!!!
…
…
THREE!!!
NO!!!!
BANZAN KICKS OUT!!!
With Banzan laid out in the middle of the ring, Darby Sorrow steps between the ropes, climbs onto the apron and to the top turnbuckle! This is it!!!
COFFIN DROP FROM DARBY SORROW!!!
AND THE SMALL OF HIS BACK COLLIDES WITH BANZAN’S LIFTED KNEES!!! A WELL-TIMED COUNTER!!!
Sorrow hits the ground and arches his back!!!
BAZAN ROLLS OVER AND MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!!!
…
…
TWO!!!
…
…
THREE!!!!
…
…
NO!!!
Somehow, someway, Sorrow was able to kick out!!!
This is unbelievable!!!
The crowd is cheering at the top of their lungs.
And once again, perhaps for the last time, both champion and challenger begin exerting what remains of their will to make that long climb to their feet.
Banzan is to his feet first, but catches an elbow from the challenger right into the gut! Banzan chops Sorrow on the shoulder for his troubles! Another elbow from Sorrow! Another chop from Banzan! Elbow! Chop!
ELBOW!
CHOP!
ELBOW!
CHOP!
ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW!
SORROW IS TO HIS FEET!!! HE BOUNCES OFF THE ROPES!!!
ROARING ELBOW FROM DARBY SORROW TO BANZAN!!! THE INDESTRUCTIBLE MOUNTAIN STAGGERS BACKWARDS!!!
DARBY CHARGES BANZAN AGAIN!!!
TIGER CLAW!!! TIGER CLAW FROM BANZAN!!! THE FIVE POINT PALM THRUST FREEZES SORROW IN HIS TRACKS AND DROPS HIM LIKE A BAG OF ICE!!!
THE CROWD ROAR!!! THEY KNOW WHAT IS COMING NEXT AS BANZAN SETS HIMSELF UP!!!
MAGGA!!! NO!!! SORROW DIPS OUT OF THE WAY!!!
Sorrow speeds to his feet, diving at the side of the Mountain and shoulder tackling him in the side of his knee, dropping him awkwardly!!! Good god!!! Banzan rests on one knee!!!
SHOVEL TO THE BACK OF HIS FUCKING HEAD!!! BANZAN IS OUT BEFORE HE HITS THE GROUND!!!
DARBY MAKES THE COVER!!!
ONE!!!
…
…
TWO!!!
…
…
THREEEEEEE!!!
Darby Sorrow has done it! He’s our new OSW Champion!!! It seems the Butcher’s words did not fall on deaf ears after all.
…
NOOOOOOO!!!! GOD DAMN IT BANZAN’S FOOT WAS ON THE ROPES!!! THE REFEREE JUST NOW NOTICED!!!
Darby Sorrow can taste the victory on the horizon! Once more, he climbs to the top rope. Once more he stands on the top turnbuckles, crossing his arms.
ONCE MORE, HE LEAPS!!!
COFFIN DROP!!! COFFIN DROP!!!
DARBY NAILS IT!!!
HE HOOKS THE LEG!!!
ONE!!!
…
…
…
TWO!!!
…
…
…
THREEEEEEEEE!!!
Darby Sorrow really has done it this time. He has become the second ever OSW World Champion crowned inside the Slaughterhouse. His hand is raised in victory and the title is draped over his shoulder. In spite of that, nothing but apathy rests on his face.
“LIKE HIM.”
RINGSIDE
Sorrow whips the Championship from his shoulder, holding it nonchalantly by the strap as it drags along the canvas.
He shakes his head in disappointment, heading towards the ropes – only to be stopped by the sound of loud applause.
It belongs to The Butcher, who now stands on the entrance ramp with a smile.
“Finally, a Champion I can be proud of,” he sneers. “A winner, through and through.”
Darby just stands there, grimacing.
“I told you that if you became my Champion, I would, with your help, deliver unto you the cure to your immortality; I tell no lies Darby, I’m a man of my word.”
That doesn’t sound too convincing.
“But,” he says with an elongated tone. “To get what we need takes time, money and resources. Your immortality may be a blessing but that isn’t all. We need more.”
“Like what?” Sorrow asks curiously.
“Like him.”
Darby turns around to see Berkshire Ellison Greene stood behind him! BEG grabs him by the arm, dragging him down immediately into the Crossface!
The Financial Crisis is locked in!
The World Champion screams in agony as The Butcher looks on with a wry smile.
“Before you two can play nice and align in my stable, I promised BEG that after beating Banzan, he’d be due an opportunity at your Championship,” The Butcher says with a shrug, deafened by the boos around him. “So, at Drag Em To Hell on October 28th, Darby Sorrow will defend the OSW World Championship against Berkshire Ellison Greene!”
Sorrow slowly passes out in the hold, finally dropped on his face in the middle of the ring. BEG stands up, straightening out his suit.
“And once that has been settled, I can assure you both that we will be in the best position possible to achieve our goals.”
The Butcher smiles sadistically, the camera closing in on his face as we cut.
Cut.