Earlier this year.
The Butcher stands behind the counter in his store, looking at the barren shelves as custom appears to have dried up. He looks frustrated, annoyed and certainly fed up.
Suddenly, his cell phone rings.
With an odd looking number upon the face, he grunts, placing it on speaker phone as he answers and places it down on the counter.
“Colin,” a distorted voice begins. “Otherwise known locally as The Butcher.”
The use of his real name, a first for him in quite some time, brings his attention immediately to the phone he’d placed down on the counter.
He picks it up, saying nothing.
“You’re a very capable man, aren’t you? Despite the failings of your legitimate business, your side ventures appear very profitable.”
The Butcher isn’t happy.
“Who the fuck is this?” he growls back.
“I’m a person looking for something in particular, something a man with your set of skills could help me locate; something that offers great power to those in possession of it.”
By now, you’d of thought he’d have hung up the phone but he keeps listening.
“All you need to do is follow my instructions and perhaps, just perhaps, we can find it.”
“What the fuck is this?” The Butcher asks fiercely. “Do you expect me to just go along with you, is that it? Son, I run New York City – everything comes through me. I don’t follow orders, I give them.”
The voice chuckles.
“If you want to be the underground leader of a small part of the world, then by all means, ignore this call,” the distorted voice argues. “But if you want to dominate a landscape changed by war; become a leader of men in a reality found barren of law and order, then do exactly as I say.”
The Butcher thinks about it for a moment.
“Go ahead,” he says, surprisingly.
“Very well. You need to go to Miami, Florida in August. I will provide instructions whilst there.”
Luke Storm is standing completely still in the middle of the hallway when Veritas comes out of nowhere to confront him!
“What the hell was that last week Storm?”
Luke doesn’t react at all.
“What is going on with you? All you Hollywood types know how to do is talk so start talking!”
Still no words.
“Fine, you won’t talk? I have no problem attacking someone whose whole life is a lie. To borrow a line from your world, you can’t handle the truth!”
Veritas winds back to swing…
Scrimshaw yells to stop the attack as Veritas puts his fist down and Storm acts like someone waiting at the DMV, foot stomping in impatience.
“That attack on you is not his fault. It’s all a misunderstanding. Let him see your eyes Storm.”
Luke takes off his sunglasses and poses in a way you can only notice his eyes, still clear not one strand of color.
“He’s possessed boy and apparently, I’m the only one with the power to control him.”
“So it’s your fault I was attacked?!”
Veritas gets in Scrimshaw’s face now and Storm has stopped paying attention with no one talking to him.
“No. I was in Monty Straight’s foolish game show and this is now my prize! Look at him, a vessel that can take me anywhere! He attacked you before I knew what my vessel was!”
Scrimshaw’s voice is dripping with angry sarcasm but it’s enough for Veritas to understand.
“So, this is how you get places now, no ship, just a man without a mind of his own? I don’t think I’m the one that should be pissed if that’s the case but let’s be honest here, I need proof that what you’re saying is true. I know he’s possessed but I don’t know why I was attacked still. Why did you attack me Luke?”
“Make your slave answer Scrimshaw! Why did you attack me Luke!?
Veritas slaps Storm hard but no reaction still!
“Answer him, Luke!”
Luke shakes his head as if woken in his sleep.
“Sorry, something on my mind. No, master Scrimshaw is not responsible for that heinous attack on you. Mr. Straight told me to play the role I was meant to play and something clicked making me attack you.”
“Ah, the perpetrator of lies forcing the displayer of deceit to attack truth, that makes much more sense. We’re good sea dog, your new sea puppy however needs to watch out and like all actors, he should stop getting in the way of truth.”
Veritas storms off.
“Why does my face sting?”
REDWING VS. MONTY STRAIGHT
An ambulance sits parked outside the ring as Monty Straight and Redwing stretch in their respective corners. Only way to win this one is by getting the opponent in the ambulance outside the ring and closing the doors!
The bell rings! Monty Straight and Redwing circle each other for a bit, the two veterans, before they collide in the center of the ring with a lock up! Straight quickly transitions Redwing into a side headlock, wrenching on his neck! Redwing counters with an atomic drop!
Straight grabs the top of his thigh as he bounces off Redwing’s knee! Straight runs across the ring! Bounces off the ropes, but the wily hero pulls the top rope down and Straight tumbles over the top! Redwing climbs to the top rope!!! No one can believe it!!! He leaps!!! BIG SPLASH FROM THE TOP ROPE!!!
…NO!!! STRAIGHT ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!!! The Red Knight writhes in pain, but the twinkle in Straight’s eye says it’s about to get worse!!! STRAIGHT SHOOTING!!! THE MODIFIED SHARPSHOOTER!!! REDWING TAPS OUTSIDE OF THE RING, BUT IT’S NO USE!!! Monty eventuallly breaks the hold and drags Redwing to his feet, leading him to the empty ambulance!
They reach the ambulance and Straight slams Redwing’s head into it– NO!! Redwing blocks it! Elbow to Straight’s gut!! RETURN TO ARKHAM!!! THAT DOUBLE UNDERHOOK DDT!!! NO!!! Straight locks his leg with Redwing’s, making the move impossible! Headbutt from Monty!!! He lifts Redwing up!!! THE COMMERCIAL BREAK!!! RIGHT INTO THE GOD DAMN AMBULANCE!!! MONTY WINS!!!!
Monty picks up the big time win over Redwing in this battle of veterans. Monty grins with that trademarked twinkle in his eye as his arm is raised in victory!
“CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN”
In a darkened hallway, a shadow is running through the claustrophobic corridor. The dangling lights seem to be broken, only flashing on every so often. The running shadow stops, panting, to look behind him.
The hallway is filled with a massive human form.
The shadow spits on the ground between he and the bigger man before turning to keep running away. He rounds a corner and almost falls backwards in shock.
The large man is now directly in front of him, blocking the way.
“You have no honor.” The big man says, revealing his identity.
The smaller shadow chuckles, giving away his as well.
Berkshire Ellison Greene.
“Fuck honor.” BEG replies. “It’ll never buy what I have.”
“Yet you still seek that which you cannot buy.”
Banzan is gone.
The lights return to their normal functioning as BEG looks around surprised. He’s in the entrance way to the building.
“The fuck?” He comments.
Suddenly, the door swings open wide, and none other than the OSW World Champion steps through it. On one shoulder he has the gold, the other holding his trusty shovel. The door slams shut behind him as he regards BEG with a raised eyebrow.
“About damn time, Sorrow.” BEG remarks. “Banzan has been chasing me around here like a goddamned slasher movie.”
“I thought you were the sneak attacker around here?” Sorrow offers.
BEG shakes his head.
“Don’t fuck around with me, Darby.” He retorts. “You need me, so get off your high horse, and let’s go climb the mountain and take a shit on it. You let that idiot take me out, and you’ll never get what you’re after.”
The World Champ goes to walk past BEG, turning to offer some last words.
“I do need you. I’ll be around.”
BEG is left all alone to straighten his clothes out and get his composure back.
LUKE MARSHALL VS. SCRIMSHAW VS. ALTON WHITLOCK
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
If age equals wisdom then Scrimshaw is wise in bucketloads. He goes toe to toe to toe tonight with the party politics of Alton Whitlock and the good book of the debuting Luke Marshall. Triple Threat Action!
The bell sounds and the aggressive style of the newcomer is on display early. He winds up a CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL that is scouted by Scrimshaw and the Old Sea Dog ducks the strike. Whitlock ducks out of the ring in the chaos as the pair duke it out. CHOP BLOCK FROM SCRIMSHAW CUTS MARSHALL DOWN!
Scrimshaw drops an elbow to target the neck of Marshall, while Whitlock sneaks back into the ring behind him. Seizing his opportunity, Whitlock CLOBBERS SCRIMSHAW WITH A DOUBLE AXE HANDLE FROM BEHIND! The pair trade blows but The Candidate gets the upper hand … BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX FROM WHITLOCK TAKES OUT THE CAPTAIN!
Whitlock is spun around from behind… DIAMOND CUTTER! MARSHALL DRILLS HIM! He picks Whitlock back up, only to DRIVE HIM BACK INTO THE GROUND WITH HIS PATENTED BUTTERFLY PILEDRIVER! SENT FROM ABOVE! Luke Marshall looks set to finish this right here. HUMANITY’S LAST HOPE – NO! HE CAN’T GET THE HOLD LOCKED IN BECAUSE SCRIMSHAW BLINDSIDES HIM!
A dazed Luke Marshall staggers backwards towards the ropes from the Shoulder Charge of the Old Sea Dog. The pair trade blows long enough for Alton Whitlock to get back to his base and all three men come to heads in the centre of the ring. LUKE MARSHALL IS DASHED ON THE ROCKS! Welcome to OSW! WHITLOCK LEAVES NO ROOM FOR SCRIMSHAW AND POUNCES ON HIM! BETTER WORLD VERTEBREAKER! He covers for the pin! One… Two… Three!
Alton Whitlock seizes the opportunity tonight and comes out on top of the three way poll! He sends a message with this victory!
A far away world.
Desolate. Sandy. Like Mars if it held structures from cities long forgotten being demolished quickly and efficiently. One looks out at the distance and sees nothing but explosions. Big, firey explosions.
Every few seconds…
An abandoned structure in the far distance crumbles, or a crater in the ground opens up.
An absolute wasteland.
Unless you are Junkrat, who stands next to Sigil looking out at the volatile horizon with love in his eyes.
“Sigil, have you taken me to Paradise?”
Sigil shakes his head, “Far from it.”
Sigil places a pair of highly advanced binoculars over Junkrat’s eyes.
Junkrat’s view zooms and hones in on a great big machine with an archway towering over it, and a platform beneath the archway. On the ground beside it appears to be a control board.
“Junkrat, I’m not going to lie. This entire planet is going to explode soon. Could be months from now. Could be days. Could be hours. You would have to move quickly. But if you can do this for me? I’ll give you that bomb I told you about.”
Junkrat nods. “What do you need from me?”
Sigil takes a deep breath. “I need you to retrieve that machine for me.”
“What’s it do?” Asks Junkrat.
“Nevermind what it does. I need you to go over there and press the red button on the control board. Then, and only then, go stand on the platform.”
Junkrat turns to look at Sigil. “How will I get there?”
Sigil points to the ground to the right of them.
A large cannon.
Junkrat lifts an eyebrow. Sigil pulls a helmet from his bag and places it on Junkrat’s head. The Human Scrapheap smiles, “You’ve thought of everything.”
Junkrat climbs into the cannon.
“One more thing,” Sigil says. “Do not, I repeat, do NOT step on the platform before you press the red button.”
“What’s it do?” Asks Junkrat.
Sigil lights the cannon’s fuse. “Nevermind what it does.”
Once more Junkrat finds himself soaring through the air towards the unknown. With explosions happening all around him, Junkrat is enjoying himself. But he has to admit, he isn’t sure of what is to come.
The only thing he knows for sure? He is definitely stepping on the platform before he presses the red button.
BLACKVEIL VS. THE JUDGE
Will judgement be passed on the Sisterhood? The Judge faces off with Blackveil in a Lumberjill match!
The Judge looks around wearily as the Sisterhood surround the ring when Blackveil uses her power to throw him backwards into the turnbuckle. The Judge’s hulking frame rattles the ring, but he remains standing when Bridezilla charges across with a corner dropkick! Judge takes a knee to gather his thoughts.
Blackveil charges looking for the Annulment but Judge is quick and almost rolls to the outside before seeing the Sisterhood converge. He comes back in and catches Blackveil by the neck as she jumps at him. He stands to his feet before chokeslamming the smaller Black Bride to the mat!
Blackveil’s form bounces from the mat when a Sister reaches in for the Judge. The Judge begins to drag the smaller Sister into the ring trying to free himself Blackveil signals for the Sister to free him, which causes the giant the charge at her. With the snap of her fingers, NOW YOU SEE ME!
The Sister’s converge on the Judge and begin beating him as the ref can’t do anything about it. The Judge breaks free and back into the ring, but an invisible force grabs him by the neck and strangles him onto his knees as the PRICE OF LIBERTY takes hold. Blackveil quickly connects with the ANNULMENT! Blackveil covers! ONE! TWO! THREE!
The Sisterhood claims yet another victim as they march to end the Patriarchy.
Blackveil and The Judge lay battered in the ring after a brutal match.
Slowly, they begin to rise…
And Blackveil’s Sisters begin entering the ring.
They march forward, step by step.
The Judge looks around.
Blackveil’s voice booms in The Slaughterhouse.
“You,” she says. “You speak of balance, but what do you know of it?”
The Sisters draw nearer.
The Judge stays focused on Blackveil.
“What can an arrogant being like you know of good or evil?” the veiled one asks.
The Judge raises his hand. The Sisters stop their advance, as if they can feel his might.
“The universe will not stand for bloodlust,” he says calmly. “Revenge is a disease. A malaligned presence in the harmony of things. Your madness must be stopped.”
“Madness?” Blackveil asks. It seems like she’s smiling beneath the veil. “It is the madness of beings like you, too cowardly to pick a side, that allows injustice to fester.”
The Sisters look at their leader.
They once again begin their advance. More and more of them stream into the ring, seemingly rising out of the shadows. They converge on the Judge, overwhelming him, trying to rip him apart limb from limb.
But then The Judge’s axe is in his hands, cutting powerful black-as-night streaks through the air of the Slaughterhouse. Sisters fall around him.
“BALANCE WILL PREVAIL!” he roars.
But the Sisters keep coming, coming, coming, a terrifying swarm of darkness that’s hellbent on death.
Finally, The Judge sends a group of Sisters hurling back. He clears a space and waves his hand in front of him. A black oval appears above the ring, an obsidian throne only briefly visible before he disappears through it. It closes behind him.
Blackveil helps a few of her fallen Sisters back to their feet.
“This isn’t over. But it will be.”
X & MARK GOULDERN VS. SIGIL & JUNKRAT
TAG TEAM MATCH
It is Invasion Winner and Slaughterhouse champion taking on a fierce competitor in Sigil… And, well, Junkrat. He’s there too. Can the wildcard’s blend of madness and havoc work for Sigil tonight, or will X and Gouldern have their hands raised?
The Lethal Weapon takes a fighter’s stance as he and Sigil stand toe to toe to start the match. Never one to follow etiquette, Junkrat suddenly launches himself from the ring apron and into the ring. FLYING CROSS BODY OFF THE ROPES! JUNKRAT JUST TOOK OUT SIGIL AND X!
Gouldern observes patiently as Junkrat wobbles to his feet. He pulls Sigil up with him but SIGIL PUSHES HIM AWAY… HEADBUTT FROM SIGIL TO JUNKRAT! JUNKRAT GOES DOWN! By now, X is staggering to his feet and the two strikers stand against each other. TARGETED KNEE STRIKE BY SIGIL… BLOCKED! X HITS A CLOSE QUARTERS ELBOW STRIKE! BIONIC ELBOW TO THE METAL MASK!
The Immoveable Force meets the unstoppable object and both men are staggered from it. Gouldern sees his opportunity and tags himself in. FLYING ELBOW TO SIGIL! A SECOND STRIKE TO THE HEAD AND HE’S STILL STANDING! Both X and Gouldern work on the Realmwalker together. PLANNED OBSOLESCENCE ASSISTED BY X! SIGIL HITS THE MAT HARD BUT DISAPPEARS!
BOOM! JUNKRAT FLIES ACROSS THE RING! SPRINGBOARD SENTON TO GOULDERN! He whips X into the corner. RUNNING KNEE STRIKE… NO! JUNKRAT SLIPS AND ENDS UP HEADBUTTING X RIGHT IN THE CHEST! Sigil reappears… The Anarchist motions to his partner and SIGIL THROWS HIM ACROSS THE RING! BANG! JUNKRAT TAKES OUT X LIKE A LAWN DART! DISRUPTION OUT OF NOWHWERE! SIGIL GOES DOWN AND GOULDERN COVERS! ONE… TWO… THREE!
Sigil tried his best, but who knows whether having a partner like Junkrat is an advantage or a hinderance. Either way, it is the Invasion Winner and the Slaughterhouse Champion who are victorious tonight!
“The truth is out there…”
The words still hang over Redwing as he paces around a small, secluded room somewhere deep in the Slaughterhouse. He looks stoic, but his eyes give away how shaken he is by the news he had received. As he paces, unable to remain still, he mutters to himself.
“I have one job around here.” Clench and unclenching of the fist. “To hold the line…”
His pacing takes him out into the hallway, where a long stretch leads into the distance. The view is somewhat obstructed by a pile of discarded cardboard boxes. Redwing looks towards them, head darting from side to side, senses heightened. He readies a weapon from his utility belt, aiming it in the direction of the boxes.
“Somebody crossed that line…”
A noise, a rustling moves one of the boxes and Redwing readies himself to unleash, a little jumpier and on edge than usual. From behind the boxes, the culprit emerges.
Meowing cutely as it emerges into the hallway. Redwing lowers his arm when another noise from behind him makes him spin around on his heels, ready to strike.
“Oh, its you.” Redwing’s voice is low and strong, giving no sense of the paranoia that he’s trying to control. “I wouldn’t expect you to be alone.”
Mr Johnson stands before him, alone. But his presence is not by accident.
“I trust that you found what you were looking for during your visit?”
Redwing’s eyes narrow but he says nothing. Fists clench tightly.
“I’m sorry that Mez couldn’t come to play. But keep snooping and I’ll be sure to set up a playdate.”
Redwing grabs the Warden by the scruff of the neck and lifts him into the air. He presses his face close to Johnson’s, staring him in the eyes silently. Then, he lets him back down. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he backs away slowly before fading into the night.
Moment later, Mez emerges from the shadows at the call of the Warden. Mr Johnson greets him with a pat on the shoulder.
“Next week, at Drag ‘Em to Hell, we need to make sure that Redwing gets the message. It’s Playtime!”
“INSIDE THE MIND”
Decades ago on the streets of Hollywood, we see a much younger Luke Storm walking around strutting like a peacock hoping anybody would notice him. Behind him is current day Luke Storm looking confused about how he got here. A figure sneaks behind him and taps him on the shoulders.
“You were sure proud of yourself back then.”
Monty Straight slides next to current day Storm.
”Don’t look so surprised Mr. Storm, you’ve been searching your mind all week, trying to remember me, trying to remember our first meeting, trying to remember that first contract. I’ve seen your mind making a lot of curves on this journey. I just thought I’d help you reach the destination. Don’t worry, you’re not really here, your body is back in the Slaughterhouse. Treat this like a premiere night, sit back and enjoy the popcorn.”
Monty passes Luke a bucket of popcorn as they watch young Luke get approached by a large man in a black suit. His hair is dyed black as night and slick as oil.
“Hey kid, looking for work? You got a look that I’m sure executives will love.”
“Yeah of course! You think they’ll really like me?”
“They’ll love you, here’s my card, call me if you want to set an appointment.”
Monty and Luke Storm are watching this play out and Monty speaks.
“Ah, our first meeting.”
“No, that’s Saul, that’s my agent, he’s helped me get every job I’ve had.”
“Part of that is right. I have helped you get every job you’ve had.”
“That can’t be right, he should be at home enjoying time with his wife now that his kids have left the nest.”
“I’ll enjoy it later, Susie thinks I’m working overtime.”
Storm’s mouth opens in shock, he knows Monty’s telling the truth. Monty waves his hand and they’re at Storm’s first audition. A short, older, gentleman in a tan, striped suit tells Storm to read his lines.
“I think, therefore I am… kicking your ass!”
Storm starts to shadow fight throwing uppercuts and spin kicks. Current day Storm shakes his head and laughs.
”Philosophers vs Punks! My first movie! Everyone tried out for that part but somehow I got it.”
“It helps when the man who got you the audition is the man who makes hiring decisions.”
Monty transforms into the casting director and back to himself.
“Why did you do all this Monty?”
“Honestly, a desperate actor will sign anything as long as it means getting a role. They don’t even look at the contract before signing. Here, I’ll let you have a second look.”
Monty hands him the contract and shows him a highlighted part he should have read that reads:
THIS CONTRACT STATES THAT LUKE STORM IS SIGNED ON TO PLAY IN TWO PROJECTS FOR STRAIGHT PRODUCTIONS: FIRSTLY AS RENE DESCARTES IN PHILOSOPHERS VS PUNKS AND SECONDLY, A ROLE TO BE DETERMINED.
“Welcome to your new role, Mr. Storm. Hopefully, Scrimshaw is nicer to you than were to those punks.”
Monty snaps his fingers and Storm is in the Slaughterhouse with Veritas in his face and Scrimshaw telling him to answer Veritas.
“Sorry, something on my mind.”
DARBY SORROW VS. LUKE STORM
A submission match featuring a man who cannot die and a man who will not quit! It’s Darby Sorrow versus Luke Storm!
The bell rings, and Sorrow flies across the ring with a clothesline attempt! Luke Storm, a savvy fighter if there ever was one, snatches Sorrow by the arm and takes him to the ground! Arm bar! NO! RINGS OF SATURN!!! Sorrow screams out in pain and immediately shifts his body to try and place his foot on the rope! He’s able to hang his toes across the bottom rope! Storm breaks the hold!
Storm leaps to his feet and sends a few stiff kicks into Sorrow’s midsection! On the 4th kick, Sorrow grabs Storm’s foot and SLAMS HIS ELBOW STRAIGHT INTO STORM’S ANKLE!!! AGAIN!!! AGAIN!!! AGAIN!!! Sorrow stands to his feet, still holding Storm’s ankle!!! DRAGONSCREW LEG WHIP!!!
Storm tries to climb to his feet but considerable damage has been done. He’s hobbled! SORROWFUL LIFE!!! NO!!! Storm ducks it!! DOWNPOUR!!! THE CODEBREAKER!!! But no pinfall can be made! Storm hops on one foot over Sorrow and drags him up! Crossface chickenwing!!! But Sorrow will not tap!!! All of the air is leaving Sorrow’s body, but with no chance of death, he fights to his feet with Storm on his back!!! Sorrow runs backwards and drives Storm into the turnbuckles!! The hold is broken!!
Sorrow moves out of the corner. LIGHTNING STRIKE!!! BUT NO!!! STORMS ANKLE CANT HOLD UP!!! Sorrow grabs Storm’s extended ankle!!! ENZIGUIRI!!! NO!!! Sorrow ducks it, and Storm is prone!!! Sorrow shifts his hands to Storm’s hurt ankle!!! ANKLE LOCK!!! SORROW PUTS STORM IN THE ANKLE LOCK!!! THE PAIN IS IMMENSE!!! Storm refuses to tap out but his pain threshold is giving way!!! He appears to fall unconscious!!! The referee lifts Storm’s arm! It falls! He does it once more! Storm’s arm falls! One final time…!!! Storm is out!!! The referee calls for the bell, Storm unable to continue fighting!!!
Sorrow wins a submission match via an unable to continue decision. His arm is raised in victory and his title is draped across his shoulder!
“WHAT MUST BE DONE”
One Day Before Drag’em To Hell.
Rain is pelting down upon the concrete, coming down hard and splashing upwards afterwards. Despite the sound of water cascading downwards, we can hear the faintest sound of footsteps. Slowly the camera pans up to reveal that those footsteps belong to Alton Whitlock.
The candidate is walking to his car atop of a parking deck. He seems weary of his surroundings, looking left and right before placing his key in the side of his car, unlocking it. And then…
In a matter of moments a shadow has launched itself from the railing of the parking deck, planting Alton face first against his car, an arm twisted painfully behind his back, a hooded spectre staring down at him. And from beneath the hood, we see a single glowing red eye. The assailant is quiet, not speaking as Alton stares up at him, the politician finally breaking through the sounds of rain and silence.
“I knew he’d send someone like you. I’m just surprised you accepted his offer.”
The spectre, one we all know to be X, tilts his head.
“I know, I know. You are only doing what must be done. You’re a Veteran without a country, a soldier without support. I don’t blame you, but I ask you. Look inside of yourself. Do you really want to shed more blood? I only wish to help people. And to me, you’re people.”
X seemingly doesn’t know how to react to Alton’s words, taking a moment before sighing. Suddenly he smashes Whitlock’s head down on the hood of the car and we cut to black.
And after a few seconds, we hear an explosion in the darkness. As the scene fades back in we see Whitlock’s car on fire. Its flames are too hot for the rain to extinguish, and in the foreground, we see X walking calmly away. He looks back at the fire once more, then heads into the darkness.
But as he leaves, the camera zooms in to a body on the ground, far away from the explosion. It is the body of Alton Whitlock. Still alive. He stirs a bit, slowly rolling onto his back, his own driver’s license sitting on his chest. Etched into its plastic is one simple word.
And with that, we fade to black.
BANZAN VS. VERITAS
I QUIT MATCH
Tonight, we have an I quit match! The former world champion Banzan is taking on the survivalist, Veritas! Will Veritas be able to survive the mountain, or will it be another dead traveler on his way to the summit? We find out next!
DING! DING! Banzan and Veritas tie up! Banzan is getting the better of it and is pushing Veritas to the corner! Veritas stops it with a headbutt! A hard headbutt with the mask drops Banzan! Veritas pulls out a knife! What is he doing? He gets the blade against Banzan’s forehead!
Banzan kicks the knee out under Veritas! SAMUDAYA! He locks in the triangle choke! Veritas looks like he is struggling! He grabs the knife and slices Banzan’s arm! Banzan is forced to let go! Veritas throws down the knife and hits a throat thrust! Banzan is clutching his throat!
Veritas follows with a roaring elbow! TRUTH AND RECONCILIATION! Veritas goes to a turnbuckle and starts untying the pad! The turnbuckle is exposed! Veritas starts dragging Banzan to the corner and pushing his head against the turnbuckle! His head is getting grinded and Veritas starts smashing his head in!
Banzan’s head is pouring blood with every smash! Veritas asks, “Do you quit?” “Life is suffering.” Banzan elbows Veritas in the stomach to make him let go! Superkick by Banzan stuns Veritas! Banzan drags him to the corner and uses the turnbuckle rope to tie Veritas against the corner! Banzan backs up and hits MAGGA! Another one! Another one! Three Kinshasa knees crush Verita’s skull against the turnbuckle! Banzan backs up and roars for one worse than the rest! “I QUIT”
Veritas quits for his own survival as his mask is cracked and his face is bloody! He fought hard but he couldn’t overcome the mountain!
Still on that world far away…
“OOF!” Junkrat hits the ground with a thud.
Junkrat stands to his feet and dusts himself off. He looks back towards Sigil and gives him a thumbs up.
Sigil watches stoically through the binoculars.
He watches as Junkrat blatantly ignores his very simple instructions and steps right onto the platform.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
A wave of electricity that would make Tesla proud ripples across the archway.
Suddenly, and with little fanfare, a second Junkrat appears.
“Hi,” the second Junkrat sticks out a hand and says. “I’m Junkrat.”
Our Junkrat takes his hand and shakes. “Hi, very nice to meet. I’m Junkrat as well.”
Electricity races across the archway.
Two more Junkrats appear.
They stick out their hands. “Hi, I’m Junkrat” the two new Junkrats say in unison.
Ours and the second Junkrat shake hands. “Hi, very nice to meet.” They say together, “I’m Junkrat as well.”
Electricity shoots across the archway.
Four becomes eight.
“Hi, I’m Junkrat.”
“Hi, very nice to meet. I’m Junkrat as well.”
Eight becomes sixteen.
“Hi I’m Junkrat.”
Sixteen becomes thirty-two.
They exchange pleasantries.
You get the picture.
By the time Sigil appears in front of the control board and hits the red button?
128 Junkrats in counting.
“Hi, Sigil.” All 128 say.
“Don’t speak in unison like that,” Sigil says. “That’s so annoying.”
Suddenly the great machine folds in on itself. Collapsing like a fold up box an infinite amount of times. Most of the Junkrats jump out of the way in time. Exactly 28 were too slow to avoid being smushed to death in the process.
Eventually, it becomes a tiny, little box.
“Hey!” One of the Junkrats scream. “You just killed me 28 times.”
“Oi, fuck you mate,” says another to that Junkrat. “He killed me 28 times!”
“No, me!” Shouts another.
“I’m the OG Junkrat!” screams another.
Sigil shouts, “We don’t have time to sort this out! You idiots have no concept of replication! It doesn’t matter which one was the original, you’re all the same.”
With that, Sigil lifts up the box and places it in his bag. He grabs a random Junkrat by the hand and disappears.
…but Junkrat grabs Junkrat’s hand just before they disappear.
In fact, each Junkrat grabs another Junkrat’s hand before they disappear.
Thus, Sigil and 100 Junkrats depart from this world just moments before a gigantic bomb lands in the precise location of the machine, exploding beautifully.
MEZ VS. BEG
THE BONE YARD
With the demise of the gods, the diabolical structure – Between Hell & Valhalla – has now been christened The Bone Yard! A fiften-feet rusty cage encases a back-breaking wooden ring, and the only way to win is to knock your opponent out cold!
Mickey McGuiness wraps his fingers around the steel mesh from ringside, looking in at his boss helplessly. BEG pays him no notice, as he stares transfixed into the abyssal eyes of Mez’s mask. The hulking lunatic almost appears to sway in the breeze; if only he could feel it on his face… Mr. Johnson smiles to himself as he watches his patient; in such inhumane confines, Mez is home.
The bell rings and Mez steps forwards into the middle of the ring. BEG circles him warily. The affluent submission artist can take down anybody in OSW, but he doesn’t want to get caught in the massive arms of The Madman. Quicker than lightning, BEG baseball slides through Mez’s legs and emerges behind him. He traps him in a waistlock and goes for a takedown, but Mez sandbags him. He charges backwards, pancaking BEG against the steel! BEG’s grip slackens and Mez spins round. He unloads a barrage of blows into BEG’s ribs, turning him around and slamming him face first into the steel. With a til of the head, he spins him again and then goes for a haymaker —
BUT BEG DUCKS AND HIS FIST CRACKS INTO THE CAGE WALL!
Unfased by his own pink flesh hanging from the wire, Mez pursues BEG. The elitist evades another knockout blow and grabs the arm! He wrenches the socket and clubs the joint. He even bends Mez’s fingers and tries to tear the webbing in-between! Mez grunts under his mask…
HE HURLS BEG FACE-FIRST INTO THE COLD STEEL WITH ONE ARM!
The psychopath then grabs his skull and RAKES HIS FACE AGAINST THE MESH!
BEG may be a sadist, but he’s no masochist, and he screams in agony. Patient 10034 releases the real wolf of Wall Street, who staggers away. Mez barrels into the cage, tears past BEG into the opposite cage wall, then collides into him with a Lou Thesz press and unleashes ANARCHY with thunderous punches! He only relents at the instruction of Mr. Johnson, who points at the far side of the cage. Mickey McGuiness is scaling the wall in a bid to aid his employer! Mez stampedes towards the cage…
A MONSTROUS BIG BOOT RATTLES THE ENTIRE STRUCTURE, vanquishing McGuiness to the concrete below!
As Mez steps back, however, BEG kicks out his leg —
HE NAILS HIM WITH THE CHIP OFF THE OL’ BLOCK BULLDOG INTO THE WOOD!
BEG orders the referee to check the downed inmate, who lies motionless. The official gets close enough to feel Mez’s breath through his mouth grill… then bolts across the ring as Mez SITS UP!
BUT BEG CHARGES AN OVERDRAFT FEE!
Mez struggles in the Katahajime hold, as Mr. Johnson sheds his calm and calculating bedside manner. He shakes the cage, ordering his patient not to give in. If Mez loses consciousness, BEG will be declared the victor! BEG clamps down on Mez’s carotid arteries, cutting off the blood supply.
The longest-tenured asylum resident is fading into darkness…
Will he go gentle into that good night!?
NO! HE’LL RAGE AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT!
Mez clambers to his feet, carrying BEG on his back. Running on fumes, he thrusts his masked head back —
HE HEADBUTTS BEG, who hangs on tight!
A SECOND HEADBUTT ROCKS HIM…
THE THIRD ONE BREAKS HIS NOSE!
BEG relinquishes his grip as blood gushes down his chin and onto Mez’s shoulder. It’s only because those headbutts were static, with no momentum, that BEG isn’t knocked out! Mez swings his legs up —
THE 300-POUNDER CRUSHES BEG AGAINST THE WOODEN RING!
Both combatants lie in a tangled, broken heap as the modern-day Colosseum crowd come unglued! The referee checks on them, ruling that they’re both somehow still conscious. It ain’t over yet!
They slowly scratch and claw their way to their feet. Wait a minute, a hobbling Mickey McGuiness slides something into the ring through the rusted mesh! BEG takes receipt of the goods – it’s his trademark cane! Mez sprints towards him as he unscrews the cap —
BEG BRANDISHES A SHIV…
THE BLADE PIERCES MEZ’S HELMET!
Even the bloodthirsty fans of the Slaughterhouse gasp at the sight of BEG’s cane protruding from the forehead of Mez’s mask – having not penetrated deeply enough to harm Mez himself. Anyone else in his position would be dead. BEG himself is stunned. If Mickey McGuiness’ jaw weren’t already on the floor, it certainly will be as Mr. Johnson blindsides him for endangering his patient!
In the ring, Mez pulls the blade out and tosses it aside. He ROARS and lunges for BEG – only to be pulled into the PYRAMID SCHEME!
BEG holds on for dear life as Mez thrashes violently in the hold. The struggling slowly but surely dies, however, as BEG once again deprives him of bloodflow. Mez stops fighting, and the official cautiously checks on him…
The Bone Yard claims its first victim!
“USE YOUR HEAD”
The match over and the cell dropping around him, BEG rolls to the outside to get out of dodge. He grabs his coat, and begins to saunter up the aisle, making eye contact with a well-endowed woman on the front row. She knows what he wants.
But just as he turns around, there’s a new figure at the top of the aisle in the entrance tunnel.
The lights begin to flicker as BEG shakes his head and puts his hands up for a fight. He motions for the Mountain to bring it on.
“Our day to fight will come.” Banzan says. “There are sinister things afoot here, though. Surely even a man of your temperament can see it?”
“Risk verses reward. Use your head, big man.”
“I would say the same to you, but you’ve made your choice. I had to give you the chance to turn away.” Banzan says, his body seemingly growing as his muscles flex.
The Indestructible Mountain walks down the aisle towards a grinning BEG, who points behind Banzan.
WHAM! DARBY SORROW JUST TOOK BANZAN’S HEAD OFF WITH HIS SHOVEL!
The World Champion stares down at the former Champion while shaking his head. BEG walks up, and pats Sorrow on the shoulder.
“We make a great team, don’t we?” Greene comments, his hand sliding down to brush the gold. “Glad you followed my lead.”
Sorrow sighs, his eyes locking on his ally’s.
“You were right, Greene. I do need you. The Butcher may spew poison, but it’s one we’ll have to endure.”
Banzan begins to stir, and the duo look down at him, Darby hoisting his shovel.
WHAM! DARBY NAILS BEG!
Greene goes down with a thud, while Sorrow shakes his head again.
“That’s payback for Invasion, Greene. We’ll settle it for good come Drag Em To Hell.”
The Grave Digger grabs BEG by the collar, and begins to drag him up the ramp while Banzan begins to sit up, shaking his head at the display.