[Christian Underwood]

 Please post all roleplays here

[Andrew]

 MY INTERNET CHAMPIONSHIP IS NOT A FLUKE

Narrator:  Many people whine about James Tuscini obtaining the Internet Championship. Their main complaint is they feel he isn’t worthy of holding a Title Belt. I guess having the distinction of being a two-time Roulette Champion, and the 3rd longest-reigning Roulette Champion, doesn’t qualify anyone to hold a different Title Belt? Trust me that James Tuscini obtaining the Internet Championship was not a fluke. Concerning the match at Climax Control 189, where James Tuscini faced off against Calvin Harris, with neither the Internet or World Heavyweight Championship on the line, we saw James get a pinfall win over Calvin Harris. Yeah, I know, everyone is going to say the only reason James was able to pull that off was due to Dmitri showing up at ringside and distracting Calvin Harris. James told Dmitri to stay away from ringside so when Dmitri showed up it was his decision and not that James asked him to run interference for him. I will turn the air time over to James Tuscini and Pinky del Ferrando, who are ready to air their comments concerning Violent Conduct IV, and they can tell you the rest of the story.

When the scene shifts from the Narrator we see Sin City Wrestling’s Internet Champion, James Tuscini, walking with his Uncle-Manager Pinky del Ferrando, on West Flamingo Road in Las Vegas, in front of the Gold Coast Casino where Sin City Wrestling will be holding Violent Conduct IV. James is casually dressed in blue jeans, black athletic shoes, and a black tee-shirt with the wording ”I’M JAMES TUSCINI SCW’S INTERNET CHAMPION AND YOU’RE NOT! on front of the shirt. We see a large gauze bandage taped to the forehead of James as he suffered a nasty cut to his head when Calvin Harris slammed the stake he wanted to drive into Dmitri’s chest into the forehead of James during a fight after the match was over. Pinky is also casually dressed but he’s wearing black jeans, white athletic shoes, and he’s wearing a white tee-shirt with the wording I HAVE MORE WHUP ASS IN MY LITTLE FINGER THAN YOU HAVE IN YOUR ENTIRE BODY! written on the back.  We also notice, as it is damn hard to not see it, Pinky del Ferrando is wearing a neck brace. This came about as Pinky jumped in to try to stop Calvin Harris from driving the stake into Dmitri’s chest and Harris snapped on him and drove pinky hard, head first, into the mat with his “Art of Betrayal” Piledriver. As they walk up and down West Flamingo Road the cameraman assigned to them remains close to pick up all the action.

RECAP OF TUSCINI VERSUS HARRIS AT CLIMAX CONTROL 189

James:  I would like to start by commenting on what happened at Climax Control 189. I told Calvin Harris I would give him a hard fight and I did. I didn’t care if I won or lost in that match as long as I gave my best effort. I already know many people are going to claim that the only reason I was able to take advantage of Harris was that Dmitri showed up at ringside and Calvin allowed himself to be distracted. I took advantage of that distraction but I assure you that I’m not happy that Dmitri made an appearance because it lessens the impact of my victory. You can ask whether I would have obtained the victory had Dmitri not showed up at ringside and that is a valid question. I don’t know the answer to that question but I assure you I would have continued giving my best effort in the match even had Dmitri remained backstage. You see this large gauze bandage on my forehead? This is what happened when I tried to protect Pinky and save Dmitri from having a stake driven into his chest by Calvin Harris. Calvin reached back with the stake in his hand and slammed it hard into my forehead. Yeah I received a nasty cut from that and needed numerous stitches to put me back together but I should be fine for Violent Conduct IV. Sure wish it has been a STEAK instead of  STAKE that hit me in the forehead. Pinky didn’t fare as well as I did during that altercation but I’ll let him discuss that with you.

Pinky:  As you can see I have a neck brace on. The Doctor said I have to wear this for two weeks and to make sure I don’t make any sudden head movements to twist my neck until it heals. I couldn’t help but jump into action to help my Nephew and Dmitri. I didn’t think about my safety going after Calvin Harris. He turned on me and since I’m not a wrestler I was out of my element. When Harris slammed me head first into the match with his “Art Of Betrayal” Piledriver I saw my life flash before my eyes. Thankfully I’ll be okay soon but at my age I need to re-think going after wrestlers half my age.

MY INTERNET CHAMPIONSHIP REIGN IS NOT A MISTAKE

James:  Back to my reign as Internet Champion. My obtaining the Internet Championship was not a mistake, not a gift, not a fluke, and not a miracle. I earned my way into the history books by busting my ass, winning matches, defeating tough opponents, and I proved once again that I should be, and I am now, holding a Title Belt.

Pinky:  It’s a damn shame when people can’t congratulate others for earning Championships because they’re extremely jealous of their accomplishments. As we always say jealousy is an evil taskmaster. If you allow jealousy to rule your life you’ll be consumed and destroyed. James Tuscini is the valid legal Sin City Wrestling Internet Champion so deal with it!

James:  Too bad people are so damn stupid eh Uncle? I mean the stupid things people do and say makes you say DUH! and slap your forehead.

Without thinking James does the typical forehead slap thing with his hand to indicate how people react to stupid people doing stupid things. Apparently James forgot he has a bandage on his head covering the stitches he received after Climax Control 189.

James:  OUCH! F*CK! I forgot about the stitches on my forehead! The pain is nothing a few drinks can’t take away.

Pinky:  Har har har! Oh, James, you make me laugh! How in the hell can you forget about having a stake rammed into your forehead, having stitches, and being bandaged up?

James:  As you well know, Uncle, I rarely get injured in wrestling matches, or fights, so it’s not a common thing for me to have a cut, stitches, and bandage on my forehead.

Pinky: I guess after what happened to both of us at Climax Control 189 it’s good to laugh about things.

James is not amused that Pinky found him hurting his head with a hand plant to his forehead to be hilarious. James is about to admonish Pinky when a hot ring rat walks by. This causes Pinky to stop laughing and he turns his head quickly to catch a look at the ring rat. Due to having a hurt neck from the pile driver the sudden turning of his head causes Pinky severe pain.

Pinky:  OWWWW! DAMN!

James:  Har har har! There you go Uncle! You were right! Laughing about someone else having an injury and causing more pain by over-stretching that injury really is funny! Thanks for the laugh!

Pinky:  Okay we’re even now! And you are right. This pain is nothing a few stiff drinks can’t take care of.

COMMENTS FOR RYAN KEYS AND KILLIAN SWEETE

James and Pinky walk down West Flamingo Road for a bit. When they get to the corner then turn around to walk back toward the Gold Coast Casino.

James:  I could state that having Killian Sweete involved in my Internet Title Defense match is a mistake and a travesty as he didn’t earn a shot at my Internet Title Belt. However I cannot do that to him. Killian is an accomplished wrestler and he and his brother were supposed to be involved in a Tag Team Championship match but Management put the Tag Team Division on hold for a bit. So Killian has, in fact, earned a Title Shot match and Management decided to put him into this match which I feel is a valid Management decision. So, Killian, are you seeing yourself as the Wild Card in this match? Are you seeing yourself as the wrestler who will cut short my Internet Championship reign? May I remind you that although you are very accomplished in Tag Team wrestling it appears you don’t do well in Singles matches. I mean, come on, you lost to Andre Aquarius when he used a Surfboard Stretch on you? You couldn’t get out of that hold? For crying out loud a deaf, blind, paraplegic could have gotten out of that hold! And yet you believe you can come into our match at Violent Conduct IV and get out of my Mafia Hit Flying Hammer Lock or my Sweet Dreams Sleeper Hold? You submitted to a Surfboard Stretch? I just managed to get a pinfall victory over the World Heavyweight Champion at Climax Control 189. Yeah, okay, I got my forehead busted open after the match was over, and I have lots of stitches, but I didn’t submit to a Surfboard Stretch.

Pinky:  Killian after Calvin Harris did a pile driver on me driving me hard into the mat I assure you that you don’t want James to drive you into the mat with a pile driver. I know you feel this is a golden opportunity and that you have struck the mother lode of all gold ore veins. I assure you that the golden glitter in your eyes is not real gold but iron pyrite which is affectionately called “fool’s gold” which is where we get the term today that goes “all that glitters is not gold.”

James:  Now what about you Ryan? We’ve had five matches against each other. I admit that not all of them were one-one-one Singles matches. Now for Violent Conduct IV we again have a Triple Threat match. I’m sure we’ll hear from you the same thing you said when match number three between us came up. At that time you were 0-2 against me. I believe you stated that “the third time is the charm” but when that third match between us was over you were 0-3. Well, Ryan, today you are 0-5 against me. What are you gonna say this time? Are you going to state that “the third time is the charm times two” since this is our sixth match against each other? Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, well bad news for you anyway, but you will come into this match at Into the Void IV at 0-5 against me and leave the match at 0-6.

James Tuscini and his Uncle-Manager Pinky del Ferrando walk past the entrance to the Gold Coast Casino toward the next cross street. The cameraman diligently stays in step with them, and close to them, to capture their words.

WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

James:  Inside the Gold Coast Casino there are many games of chance. The ones with the highest odds against winning are Roulette and slot machines. In the other games, especially card games, you have a reasonable chance of winning unless there are players planted at the table who work for the Casino and then your chances drop. With you, Killian, I see you as playing a slot machine in this match against me. I’m not sure what the winning percentage on slot machines is at the Gold Coast Casino but I did research and came up with the “average” chance of winning a jackpot on a slot machine is 1 in 64. Wow! That’s a whopping 1.5 percent chance of winning I agree some casinos tend to have much higher odds, and some sweeten the wheels of the slot machines to give players a better percentage of payouts, but the chance of winning the big jackpot is 1 in 64. So shall we do some calculating Killian? This is your first match against me. When you lose you will have 63 more chances to try to win the jackpot against me. Good luck with that! I would have to say that my win in this match, and successfully defending MY Internet Championship is going to be damn SWEET!

Pinky:  I can see Ryan Keys laughing at what James just laid out for Killian. However, Ryan, you have no room to laugh at others. I did research on Roulette also and I came out with the chance of winning, overall, which means all types of bets combined, is around 5 percent. Did you get that Ryan? Consider you are playing Roulette and James Tuscini is the person running the Roulette wheel. That means the House, in this case James, has a 95 percent chance of winning and you have a 5 percent chance of winning. Damn! I love those odds don’t you? What’s that Ryan? You don’t like those odds? Too bad what you like or don’t like because the Internet Title Belt is mine and I have no intention of giving up possession of it witnin 30 days of earning it.

James:   So, Killian and Ryan, even if I were to add together your chances of winning against me, which is 1.5 percent for you Killian, and 5 percent for you Ryan, that still comes out to 6 percent, or an average of 3.25 percent chance each of you have of winning, while I have a 94 percent chance of winning. Even if I gave you two the benefit of the doubt and added up the odds and gave you both 6.5 percent, even combined you two would only have 13 percent to my 87 percent. Hot damn! I love those odds!

James and Pinky reach the other cross street where they stop, turn around, and head back to the entrance of the Gold Coast Casino. When they reach the doors to the Casino they stop to face the camera to make final comments before entering the Casino.

James:  Well, Uncle, I feel we’ve said all we need to say to Killian and Ryan for today. How about we go inside the Gold Coast Casino and hit the bar? I could use several stiff drinks to help ease the pain from the cut and stitches on my forehead. I’m sure your stiff neck could use a few drinks also.

Pinky:  I’m all for that James! My head and neck hurt like hell and I’m sure I can deaden the pain with some heavy drinks. Let’s do this!

James and Pinky both give a THUMBS UP into the camera before turning and walking into the Casino. The cameraman keeps focused on the two until the doors close behind him and when they are out of sight the Network cuts to a commercial break.

[Roux]

 â€œLet me start by talking about my match that passed.”

Killian Sweete appears barechested before the camera.  His tone is hushed. All is dark except his face, illuminated by the light on his camera and a blue glow in the background with a low almost inaudible buzzing, obviously a television was on.

“Andre Aquarius got lucky.”

Killian shrugs.

“Oh I know that sounds like what every other cocky individual says when they lose, but I actually have solid evidence to back it up. You see, I made the mistake of underestimating my opponent and in so doing my arrogance only gave that piece of trash legitimacy. I can guarantee that will not happen a second time.”

A smirk grows over his face. Even in the low light, traces of a 5 O'clock shadow can be seen along his jawline. It is also not hard to see the bags under his eyes too. Evidence that this topic had been on his mind recently, even to cause him issues sleeping.

“Andre spent more time using the “F” word (and not the fun one) then actually saying anything relevant. To me that says volumes about his character and it really only backs up most of what I said. SCW has seen a few guys just like him and they have all ended up pissing off the wrong people and walking.”

He gives his eyes a roll, hanging his head to one side. It allows for more of the room behind him to be seen. A woman’s figure can be made out. Blonde hair turned blue from glare of the tv. Her eyes looked shadowed but only because she had fallen asleep with her dark eye makeup still on.

“So yeah, I may have lost the battle but the war is not over. And honestly speaking, beating me does not impress anyone on this roster. Especially when his moves are so bland it is cause for the fans to all take a nap during the match. So thankfully no one was paying attention anyway. And here I am, moving on to a title shot, while he is going to be obliterated by a man in drag.”

He laughs. It’s louder than he intends it it causes his girlfriend to stir in her sleep. She turns to her side, the blanket falling away from her shoulders, indicating that she too was without a shirt on.

“Not to say I am not a fan of the lovely Miss Holly Wood. I meant what I said, I really hope she embaresses Aquarius in the ring.”

He makes sure to use the right pronoun, which would add further embarrassment to the prejudice bigot he had faced last week.

“I am not even sweating it. I have a title match to worry about, not the juvenile ramblings of yet another half-brained moron with aspirations well above his pay grade.  Maybe he should stick to pot instead of claiming to have an ‘edge’. The only ‘edge’ Andre knows is the edge of the maxed out credit card he uses when rolling his weed.”

His tone has gotten that same vicious edge in it that fans had heard last week when talking about this man. It is not as shocking this time, but it seems to be something that comes out when Killian gets angry

“I never claim to be the best, the king or the future leader of SCW. This company is not a kingdom to rule. Besides, there is far too much pressure to being a ruler... I mean look at all of those monarchs that had their heads separated from their bodies because they took things too far and really aggravated the wrong person or people. I like mine right where it is, thank you very much.”

He puts a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it as if he could feel the executioner's blade upon it.

“I don’t think Andre is going to be winning any popularity contests with his attitude. No one is particularly fond of hate mongers, especially when they focus on members of the LGBX community.”

He offers another shrug.

“I guess the definition of ‘Leader’ was lost on him but when your head is constantly in a cloud of smoke, hallucinations should be expected. You need followers to be a successful leader and anyone that supports outdated propaganda is not going to last long in a company full of very outspoken and loud individuals. Not to mention, a company whose owner is very much into men.”

Another smirk but behind it is still that venomous smile of a snake ready to attack.

“Just some food for thought for you Andre.Take my advice... or don’t. That is your choice but don’t expect any sympathetic ears when your career in SCW goes the way of the dinosaurs... extinct.”

He doesn't linger long in the frame. He leans back to put a hand on Cece’s bare back while holding up a remote to plunge the scene into complete darkness.

~~~
Memories. Funny things. You really have no choice what your mind chooses to remember. Theorists say that you hold on to significant things in your life, I don't know if I believe that. I don’t claim to understand how the brain works, all I know is what I remember.

I remember falling from a tree in our backyard and breaking my elbow. Porter was so upset at the amount of attention my new cast got that he purposely threw himself from the same tree to get a nearly similar injury. Although, I really think he wanted us to be the same so I didn't feel bad but he will never admit it.

I remember in highschool, when Porter couldn't decide on a date for our graduation prom, I decided to go stag so that he didn't feel left out but I will never admit that.

But one memory we both don’t share lingers with me and I had no idea of the significance until a recent visit with our parents. Once the shocking news filtered in and settled, it was like the unanswered questions that had laid in the back of my brain came forward and were answered in lightening speed succession.

Who is our father?
What is he like?
Why don’t we know him?

-----------------
FLASHBACK
August 1992
-----------------

This day was very clear to me, still. Porter was laid up in bed with the flu. My Mama had sent me out to play in the backyard. We didn't have a sandbox but our Sister, Calla, had dug up the grass in one corner so that the dirt was exposed. Porter and I ran our dump trucks through it, making roads with different heights, twists and even a stunt ramp. Although it was never much fun on my own. Calla never really played with us however she was with her father even if Mom asked her to keep me company. My mom was out to lunch with someone wanting to include her in a retro rock fair. (Which she did and helped her to have more confidence in her music again). So if was just Me and Mama.

Mama was hanging out some wash on the line, looking over every so often to smile at me, encourage me with praise for the big hills of dirt I called ‘castles’. My Mama really was a great person. Always smiling, soft voiced and a gentle touch.

The reason this particular memory was significant to the actions 24 years later is because of an unexpected guest.

He came through the back gate like he lived there. Coming up behind my mama and putting one hand around her waist and the other over her eyes. He leans into her ear, and I can just make out the words, “Guess who?”

I remember getting up from the dirt and running towards them, ready to do whatever damage my five year old body could do to this stranger attacking my mama. He doesn't hold her tight though and she pulls out of his embrace easily.

“Russell... what are you doing here?”

My Mama looked confused, her tone a little more angry than I had ever heard before. Her brows furrowed together distorting the beautiful face of the woman I dearly loved.

“I can't come home to my beautiful wife? To see my boys?”

At this point, I had been confused by these words. I didn't know what they meant but I could see how unhappy Mama was at hearing them.

“EX-wife Russell and you gave up all rights to MY boys when they were born. You have no right to be here.”

The man sneers.

“I will fight you in court, Eleanor. I have a right to see my kids.”

He looks threatening and I take a step forward. Mama sees me and catches my eye. It causes me to stop. The man still hasn't noticed me yet as I try to hide behind the large maple in our yard.

“Then maybe you shouldn't have waited five years to check on them!”

I had never seen my mama yell before. It almost made me cry to see it.

“Baby, you know I have never been good with babies. I wouldn't have been much good to you. But I’m back now. I can be the man you and them deserve!”

His tone is pleading, although back then I couldn't have been able to properly describe it. My Mama though, she kept her ground.

“This house never belonged to you. I bought it. I maintain it. I don’t need you. Porter and Killian don’t need you either.”

The mention of our names confuses me. He laughs. “You named our boys after your father and that idiot Dylan Sweete’s father? Jesus, Ellie.  We can at least change them though. Not like they are old enough to care. Which one is older... he should be Russell Jr. The other can be Killian though. I can compromise.”

My Mama was getting impatient now with this man not seeming to get it. She’s about to say something when my Mom’s singing voice filters through the open windows. A marvelous second soprano that sang Porter and I to sleep. Mind you her idea of a lullaby was Fleetwood Mac and Donna Summers.

“Babe?”

She steps out from the screen door, all smiles. Her wispy bleach blonde hair pulled back from her face. She’s still wearing her riding jacket even though it was well over 25 celcius. She looks around.

“Ellie... you will never...  YOU!”

She catches sight of the man and stomps down the stairs of the deck toward them.

“What the fuck are YOU doing here? Get the fuck off my property!”

The man chuckles.

“Dylan Sweete... washed up coke head extraordinaire. How did I know you would end up mooching off Ellie after she kicked me out eh? No surprise. That’s all you do.”

My mom starts to move toward him, but Mama grabs her at the elbow, and when mom looks at her, she gently shakes her head.

“Russ, Dylan and I are together. I am never getting back with you and after you signed rights away to the boys, she legally adopted them. All you are is...”

“A sperm donor!” mom blurts out, finishing Mama’s sentence.

The man looks enraged.

“So leave. Now. Before I call the cops.”

The man starts backing up, yelling at my parents until I can hear tires screeching up the road. Mama instantly moves into Mom’s arms and wraps her own around her. Her back moves and then I heard her cry.  I swore that when I grew up, I would find that man and make him pay.

Eventually I forgot about it. I never told Porter or Calla. I had always just trusted my parents when they had told me that we were from donor sperm. But the memory popped up at the conversation with my Mama only a few days ago. Then it all made sense.

~~~~~
Promo
~~~~~

Killian Sweete’s face fills the screen as he flashes a debonair smile. He waits there a few seconds before speaking.

“If there is one thing I hate, it’s when people assume I will say something. When they expect that I am a certain way based on one event.”

He shakes his head, disappointed.

“James assumes that because I lost my match that it means that I have automatically lost this one... and his logic? Because Aquarius has a subpar hold. In his opinion anyway. But you know, if we are going to start comparing win-loss ratios, James has no room to compare. And just like he can't judge my ability to beat him on one match, I can't judge his ability to beat me on his win against our current Heavyweight champion. I mean one win does not make you a superstar and respectively, the internet title does not make you a king.”

He sighs dramatically.

“What is it with the men in this company constantly trying to overcompensate for something...? I mean a prime example of that is Steve Ramone.”

He can’t help the chuckle now as he sits back from the camera. Still not much can be seen behind him yet.

“James likes to write cheques his ass can’t cash. Does he expect me to be angered by his words?” he shrugs, “Although I hate assumptions, anger is not something I deal in. It's useless and causes over-reacting to things.”

He taps his lower lip, thinking.

“Or just not reacting at all as is the case with our other opponent. Ryan has yet to comment on this match, other than his words to me via twitter about not planning on phoning this match in. Tsk tsk. You really shouldn't break promises. But even if he won the title... well his track record of defending titles is not really a solid statistic. Whether it's here or in other companies.”

He backs up some more to show a beautiful skyline and a beach full of people on a beach. Dressed in a variety of different suits.

“And just to show just how confident I am...”

He leans back, putting one hand behind his neck.

“I am not doing a promo from some gym that no one gives a shit about. I am not trying to impress anyone by sweating and showing how much I can lift. Unlike others, I go to the gym to work, not take selfies and do a promo with a weight in one hand flexing a bicep and holding a phone in the other.”

As he’s talking a pair of hands slide down his chest, the fingernails painted red and black.

“I am relaxing on a beach with my girl.”

Her blonde hair falls forward covering her face as she buries her face into his neck.

“Because life’s a beach... am I right guys? I look forward to showing you exactly what I am capable of and unlike you both, I am not underestimating either of you. Bring me your best. I will show you better.”

He winks before shutting off the camera.
~~~~~

------------------------------------------------
August 23rd, 2017
The Home of Dylan & Ellie Sweete
Montreal, PQ
------------------------------------------------

My mama was not very good at hiding things when it bothered her. I had been the first to arrive home (surprisingly) and she was flitting around the sitting room, straightening and rearranging an already immaculate room. I shook my head, patting the seat beside me on the couch.

“Mama, sit. I have no idea why you are so nervous but you are making ME nervous so please...”

She sighs, looking frustrated with her younger son but one look at my face and she releases a little bit of the tension in her small shoulders.  But it was still there.

“I just want your Mom and brother to hurry up.”

I reach out, taking her hand in mine. By the time I was fifteen I was towering over her and with it the fact that her hand in mine was like she was now the child in need of comforting and protection.

As if they heard her words, Porter steps into the living room, for once there is a smile on his face. Him, like I, was very intune with our biological mother’s emotions and recognizes her distress immediately. He sits on her opposite side, taking her other hand. My mom and sister enter the room, identical lines drawn across their faces instead of mouths. Calla leans against the wall, for once not giving some sarcastic and insulting jib at Porter. Mom takes a seat opposite us in the chair, looking uncomfortable.

“So, what did you need us all here for? Is this about that lock box you had us look for?”

Mama nods. She takes a deep breath.

“You boys were not from a sperm donor. You have a real dad.”

*TBC*

[Ryan Keys]

 [Initial thoughts before Violence]

Ryan Keys is hanging out. Literally, the former champion his hanging upside down on some pull up bars at a local gym in Vegas. His muscled body is tensed yet his face stays calm as he breathes in deeply, Zen and collected, Keys stays concentrated. Even if phone going off like crazy isn’t breaking his concentration… at least not that much. Recent events had caused him to hold back and think about his actions. The Internet title was once again dangling in front of his face and there was another chance for him to claim it.

Breathing deeply, Ryan focused his thoughts on his goals, no distractions. Yet his phone kept going off.  Was it possible to get sick of your own Theme song? In any case, He shakes off the disturbance and meditates in his lonesome. It’s been awhile since Ryan has been on his own, usually he’s with his boy or with his newly acquired manager. Though he was allowed some time to train, and he’s taking full advantage of it.

"Alright, let's get something straight. Yes, I got mad after my loss. Yes, I did get beat bad by someone that I may have underestimated just a bit. That fault lies on me. I’ve been on and off in my performance and I got no one to blame. Holly got the better of me and he deserved the win he got. He even got away with a few things that shouldn’t be televised, but hey my home state is where things happen. I was challenged because I was chosen as the best looking guy in SCW,and I am not gonna complain. It was an honor. Still, I’ve impressed the bosses enough to give me another chance above everyone else. I finally get to get my hands on James Tuscini after the last time we faced. I got excited for a moment too…. That is until someone else was added in our match. Not that i’m surprised, just confused.”

He says while his cold eyes slowly open to focus on the camera directly in front of him. WIth thoughts running through his mind, Ryan exhales a breath and tightened his core in a display of control and strength as his muscles show, barechested with no sweat appearing on him despite the heat surrounding the room.  Snake like tattoos surrounding his arms make his struggles in the bast as they hold a special place in his heart., It’s his art. Ryan nods in his situation and continues on.

"So Violent Conduct comes around again, it’s a Pay Per View where I have a spotty record but there’s no sweat on me. I’m scheduled for a Triple Threat where anything can happen when three men are in the ring battling out for one goal. I’ve worked hard to get this chance, Killian had been working on his own terms to get into this match, and James did what he does to get his title. So now it’s time for use to fight over it. This is not gonna be like last time, there is no elimination happening here. There is no cute gimmick catching us by surprise like the roulette title, this is a real match where the first one to get the pin of the submission wins. And I’m gonna do everything in my power to be that man who wins it all. Because there is a score to settle, and my losing streak is bound to break in a big way. I’ll make sure of it.”

Hanging now by one leg holding him in place, Ryan uses his flexibility to take himselfs down and land gracefully on his feet without a sounds. He wipes his brow before resting his hands on his hips as he paces. Tight black shorts hung very low on him, though it was not distracting him in the slightest. His face looks like he’s deep in thought, when in reality he’s wondering if he left his boy Harley some food and water before he left. Though he shook it off to think of better things. Like the men he’s facing.

"Let me get something out there. I’m familiar with Killian, I am. He and his brother are what the tag division needs. Youth, athleticism, attitude, they got it all. But there is something about a member straying away from a duo to make it out on his own that seems off. The focused mentality of a team is slowly replaced with individual goals and before you know it  the black sheep in the black sheep starts to go off in one direction on his own. I’ve seen Killian fight, and he could hold out on his own in one on one. He’s fought his way to where he is now and I can’t take that away from him. I’m not gonna put him down due to his recent fails, but that’s mostly because I’m not one to be a hypocrite. I lost my match at Climax Control too, hell, I've lost twice in a row. So I can’t say that Killian doesn’t belong in the match, more so I’m the odd one out. Still, I haven’t faced this man before, I don’t know his tricks, then again he doesn’t know mine. It’s one thing seeing a person fight, and it’s a different feeling when you’re actually in the ring with them. So as unexpected as Killian being in the match is, I look forward to it. Who knows, maybe he’s just what I need to steal the title away from James. After all, I’m not losing by default.”

He takes a deep breath and slowly walks off to grab a towel as a smirk tugs on his lips. His ice cold gaze pierces through while Ryan wipes the towel over his body. It’s a mystery as to why everything he does looks seductive, but just look at him. One a former exotic dancer, Ryan never lost that way of movement, that lustful gaze or that beckoning smile. It was part of his overall charm.

"Truth be told, Killian still worries me, but I’ll pull that aside. Because there is something that’s at stake in this match, and I’m not just talking about the Internet title. No. There is a score that someone has been dangling over my head for far too long. A record I wanna wipe clean and finally put an end to. Yeah, I’ll admit it. I’ve never won against Tuscini one on one. I’ve never pinned or made him submit. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ve ever eliminated him in anything. There came a time where it pissed me off having my name being placed in the same match has him for the reason that I couldn't take the man down. But rather than complain, ‘ve kept my mouth shut and pushed through each and every time. And sure I lost, but for those paying very close attention, things haven’t been easy for old James. It’s getting harder and harder to beat me and he knows that. At Violent Conduct I finally get to have my chance against him, and despite the third wheel in the match I’m taking this one seriously. But let’s get something straight, I’m not taking James Tuscini down this time because his injured, no. Sure him being busted open and having some pains is something I should take advantage on, even Uncle Pinky isn’t looking too hot to do anything to save him. But I’m not focused on that. I’m beating James down like I’ve always done, by wearing him out. Am I gonna hit him until he’s forehead splits open? Hell yes, I won’t hesitate. But I’m making that happen by how hard him gonna knock him down. This is my shot to finally end the speculation that I can’t beat James. I can, and at Violent Conduct people will see it happen.”

He has his reasons as Ryan tosses his towel and lets out a long sigh once he picks up his gym bag from the bench nearby. His phone buzzes with his manager's number flashing from it. It’s his manager once against probably wanting to know where he is. It was definitely work related, as the man loves showing Ryan off like a well shined trophy of a client. There’s probably another autograph signing for him, or a photo shoot. Though he doesn’t have the time for them at the moment.

”The Golden Coast Casino is where I make my mark. My home town, having the home field advantage having my back. There is nothing I can’t do with having my people surround me. It’s worked in the past, it’s how I won the Roulette title for the first time,and you bet that it’s gonna work for me against. I’m stepping up my game in Violent conduct. It’s finally my time to branch out and make a now record for myself. To hell with the percentages and stats. I am in my element, and there is calculation that can measure my heart and how much I give inside that six sided ring. So I’m stating this now, Coming into this Pay Per View, I’m going in confident and ready to win my first ever Internet title. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop me from getting what I've worked for. So Killian, James, Good luck. You both are gonna need it when that bell dings and I’m let loose on both of you.”

Ryan winks at the direction of the camera, still looking like he's coming on to it while he grabs his gear and starts to walk off screen. His phone still rings in the distance with no indication if he’ll ever answer it or not. The mystery will continue

[Andrew]

 JAMES TUSCINI’S DEFENSE OF THE INTERNET CHAMPIONSHIP WILL NOT BE A PRETTY EXPERIENCE FOR HIS OPPONENTS

Narrator:  There are many wrestlers in Sin City Wrestling who believe that they can just walk into the Management offices, demand a shot at the Internet Championship James Tuscini holds without earning that shot, and that when they get that Championship match all will be sweet, nice, and pretty when the match happens. Boy these dumb ass deluded morons are in for a big surprise because when they step into the ring to challenge Tuscini it will get ugly for them quickly.

Today we join James Tuscini and Pinky del Ferrando as they relax in their dressing room. Pinky is sitting on the couch and James is sitting on an easy chair next to the couch. We notice on the coffee table there are various food items including pepperoni pizza, hamburgers, soft drinks, and beer. We also see that James still has a bandage on his forehead from the injury he sustained at the hands of Calvin Harris at Climax Control 189 but the bandage is much smaller which indicates James is healing quickly. Pinky still has a neck brace but since this neck brace is smaller than the one he had on last week that is also an indication Pinky is healing quickly. The cameraman gets set up and when he’s fully set up to air their comments he gives them the signal that they are live on the air.

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY

James:  We have many jealous assholes in Sin City Wrestling who feel my Internet Championship reign is a joke. What’s so amusing about their claims is that those who whine the most are those who are NOT currently holding, or have never held, a Title Belt. While you pathetic, non-title holding, fools are laughing why not sign for a match against me? I assure you when the match is over, and I’ve beaten you down to one-fourth your size, you won’t be laughing anymore. The problem with you wannabes, who demand shots at Title Belts without earning your way to that Championship match, is that you think everything will go your way. You believe your match against me will be a combination of glitter glue and Unicorn farts. When you step into the ring with me, and you realize you’re in way over your head, way over your wrestling abilities, and you comprehend you are about to receive the beat down of your life, you’ll realize that instead of glitter glue and Unicorn farts, you’re receiving super glue and raw sewage. You’ll come into the match smelling like a rose and you’ll leave the match defeated and smelling like a week-old pile of rotting diapers.

Pinky:  I wish to remind you, because most of you are so damn stupid you can’t remember to wipe your ass after you take a shit, that while James is beating the hell out of opponents I’ll be at ringside beating the hell out of anyone who tries to interfere in the match. I don’t mind beating someone unconscious when they’ve earned it. I already know what you’re thinking. You think that because I’m 64 years of age I can’t handle myself in a fight. I’d like to relate a recent incident that happened to me and James. I’ll admit that at Climax Control 189 I took on Calvin Harris in an attempt to assist Dmitri and Harris dropped me with a pile driver and that’s why I have this neck brace right now. What you saw is that at my age I didn’t back down from a professional wrestler who is less than half my age. I did suffer a slight neck injury but I’m still here and I’m still in your face. If a young professional wrestler, who is less than half my age, couldn’t put me completely out of action, then that tells you I’m more of a bad ass than you think I am. If you want to find out how much bad ass I can be come at me and find out.

James:  Today I’ve decided to give my comments on our match the setting of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly which was the name of the Clint Eastwood movie from 1966. I’ll start with you Keys. Ryan you are the GOOD in this match. You are the wrestler with the nice attitude and good looks and you’re known as the pretty boy of Sin City Wrestling. I’m sure Mz. Holly Wood would surely attest to that. For our match at Violent Conduct IV you’re wrestling in front of your home town crowd in Las Vegas. They state in sports that having the home town crowd behind you is the equivalent of having an extra player on the team. You want to know something Ryan? Having the home town crowd behind you maybe gives a wrestler an additional 5 percent boost. As I mentioned last week you are coming into our match with 5 percent chance of defeating me. With the additional 5 percent you get from the cheering of the home town crowd that would bring you up to 10 percent. I’ll take a 90 percent advantage every time. I mean, come on Ryan, you’re 0-5 against me so your 5 percent, plus the 5 percent from the home town crowd, is meaningless in your attempt to de-throne me.

James stops talking to reach over to the coffee table where he grabs a hamburger and a soda. Pinky picks up a slice of pepperoni pizza and a beer.

Pinky:  Sorry to interrupt you James but this pepperoni pizza sucks in comparison to my Mafia Pizza restaurant in Duluth, Georgia. Then again that’s an appropriate depiction when you think that Ryan Keys and Killian Sweete suck in comparison to you.

James:  Don’t be too hard on Ryan Keys. He is a two-time Roulette Champion, as I am also, therefore  he can get the job done when he remains focused. I would say your comments about Killian Sweete sucking when compared to me is more than a valid statement. Killian you’re the UGLY in our match. When we stand you next to Ryan Keys there’s no comparison. He belongs on magazine covers, Ryan belongs on modeling runways, Keys belongs on the Red Carpet at the Academy Awards, while you belong on toilet paper. Remember that the odds state you have a 1.5 percent chance of defeating me at Violent Conduct IV. And then to add insult to injury, to rub salt into your open wounds, and to lay a hard kick to your groin, you don’t even get the additional 5 percent boost as Ryan Keys will get from his home town crowd. So keep your 1.5 percent and I’ll raise you my 98.5 percent and I’ll win the bet. The reason you are the ugly in this match is that you took an ugly loss to Andre Aquarius when he used a Surfboard Stretch on you. Man if that’s not an ugly way to chump yourself out in a wrestling match I don’t know what is. And what was your excuse? The way I heard it you were claiming that Andre got “lucky” in the match. I guess if anyone considers that Andre Aquarius got “lucky” by making someone submit with a Surfboard Stretch then Andre better rush out and purchase a Powerball Lottery ticket because he’ll damn sure win the jackpot. Yeah, for sure, that’s one ugly way you lost a wrestling match.

James and Pinky down their food and drinks. Both wipe their mouth and hands with napkins and then continue with their comments.

James:  As I previously stated this match is between the good, the bad, and the ugly. I already highlighted why Ryan Keys is the good and Killian Sweete is the ugly, and now let me tell you why I’m the BAD. When I say I’m BAD it is in the context of the slang use for the word which means good. Let’s be real about this match shall we? I’m facing two wrestlers who haven’t proven much to me. Ryan you haven’t proven that you can defeat me out of five attempts. But, Ryan, you have proven that you can obtain a Title Belt as you are also a two-time Roulette Champion as I am. The difference, though, is that you failed to hold onto the Roulette Title Belt for very long. Even your two combined runs as Roulette Champion doesn’t come close to my one run where I became the 3rd longest-reigning Roulette Champion. Can you perform so good that you can break the jinx you have against me? Do you think the home town crowd can break that curse? Do you think you can get the job done this time? You can “think” all you want but I “know” what’s gonna go down in our match.

Pinky del Ferrando decides to grab another beer and he downs it quickly and then lets out a loud obnoxious burp.

Pinky:  Buuuuurrrrrppppp!!!!!  Damn that felt good! Oh, sorry James, you can continue now.

James rolls his eyes at the uncivilized public behavior his Uncle Pinky has.

James:  Ryan don’t let out a sigh of relief yet as I’m not done talking about you. And before you get this idiotic concept that the reason I’m talking to you is that I’m concerned about you being involved in this match you’re wrong. I’m talking to you to get you to understand that I have your number and you cannot defeat me no matter how hard you try and no matter how many home town fans you have cheering for you. I don’t believe there are enough miracles left in the world for you to snag them all and get a win over me.

Pinky is about to reach for another beer but James cuts him off.

James:  Oh no you don’t! You’re not gonna down another beer and embarrass me again on national television with an obnoxious burp. I’m sure you can wait until we’re done with this segment before you drink another beer.

Pinky:  You sure know how to ruin my fun.

James:  You can always go into the bedroom and close the door so your obnoxious body noises won’t interfere with my comments. Otherwise if you want to stay here on camera, and throw your comments in now and then, please behave yourself.

Pinky backs off from the coffee table and sits back on the couch.

Pinky:  Now to talk to you Killian. Without a doubt I believe you’ll have Porter run to ringside and attempt to interfere in our match. I know what you two are thinking. Since I was hit with a pile driver by Calvin Harris I’m wounded, I’m out of commission, I lost my can of Whup Ass. Is that what you really think? If it is then you two, if you make the interference attempt, will find out quickly that I can still kick ass even with a stiff neck. Even if during the fight to prevent the interference I re-injure my neck, and have to be put back into a neck brace, it will still be better than both of you getting beat down by me so you two will be in a body casts. If you think I’m a joke you’re welcome to try me. Just remember I warned you ahead of time.

James:  Damn Uncle!  I think you’re right about this local pepperoni pizza sucks compared to your pizza at your Mafia Pizza restaurant in Duluth, Georgia. Did you get a bad slice of pizza or one with rotten pepperoni on it? I can smell the stench over here!

Pinky:  Oops! Sorry James. I farted.

James:  Can’t I take you anywhere without you embarrassing me?

Pinky:  Probably not.

James picks up a magazine from the coffee table and he waves is to move the stench back toward Pinky.

James:  Killian I couldn’t help but laugh at your comments on your childhood. I think the concept of being from a dysfunctional family, and having to fight to survive, has been run into the ground in the sport of wrestling. It isn’t a new concept. It isn’t a new story. While I feel your attempt was to obtain pity from me and the fans it didn’t work. I’ll tell you a quick story of my growing up in San Francisco. I’m not telling you my story to gain pity. I’m telling you my story to show you that there are two ways to take things into account. A person can loathe in self-pity as you did or they can overcome as I did. As you may not know San Francisco is fractured into districts or ethnic groups. You have China Town, you have the Italian District, you have many districts where people segregated themselves out instead of mixing with each other. Where I grew up we were not in the Italian District. We were right on the border where the Italian District, China Town, and Whites lived. I got harassed and threatened daily by those who were not Italian. My father died when I was young. When my mother passed away my Uncle Pinky took me in and we are a strong family. Did getting beat up and harassed by Whites and Chinese ruin me and make me board the Pity Train like you did? Hell no! I fought back! I overcame! I stood up for what was right! So, Killian, although I appreciate your attempt to gain pity from everyone it didn’t work on me. In our match I promise to beat the pity out of you. I’ll ensure that my victory in this match will be so dominating you’ll never ask for a match against me again. But to show you what a nice person I can be I’ll make one additional promise to you. When I defeat you, when I humiliate you in this match, I promise that I’ll purchase you a lifetime boarding pass for your pity train so that you can endlessly ride your pity train into eternity.

James looks over to see Pinky spraying air freshener to rid the air from what he recently did.

James:  Thanks, Uncle, that helps a bit. Ryan I may purchase a lifetime boarding pass for your pity train also. When I defeat you in this match and you obtain a pathetic 0-6 record against me I know you’ll be feeling like crap. So I figure handing you a lifetime boarding pass for the Ryan Keys Pity Train into eternity would be a nice gesture.

WHAT’S THE BOTTON LINE IN THIS MATCH?

James:  What’s the bottom line in our match? Do you two even know what the meaning of the term “bottom line” is?

Pinky:  The term “bottom line” means the essential, or the most important, point of the item being discussed

James:  Do you know what the most important point is about our match? If I wait for you two to figure out what that is I’ll be sitting here for weeks. So to avoid having to waste weeks of my time I’ll lay it out for you in such plain and easy to understand terms that even you two will understand it right away. I’m a two-time Roulette Champion and currently the 3rd longest-reigning Roulette Champion. Unless Kris passes me up in that category I’ll remain with that status. Do you two truly believe that being a two time Roulette Champion and holding that Title Belt as long as I did that I’m going to lose the Internet Title Belt less than 30 days after I earned it? If you two honestly believe that I’m gonna lose the Internet Championship in less than 30 days then please talk to Pinky as he has some prime swamp land in Florida to sell you and he also has a very nice bridge in Brooklyn for sale.

Pinky:  What many of you fail to comprehend about James is that in a year and a half in Sin City Wrestling he’s accomplished more than most of the wrestlers here have accomplished in all the years they’ve been here. Although there are a few wrestlers in Sin City Wrestling who are more accomplished than James Tuscini for damn sure Ryan Keys and Killian Sweete are not on the “I’ve accomplished more than James Tuscini” list. How does it feel to come into a wrestling match knowing that you have less than a 10 percent chance of winning? Must feel like crap eh?

James:  Killian I need to explain something to you as you are aware that myself and Dmitri as the Tag Team named Unholy Alliance. In our case we have been successful in both Singles and Tag Teams but we have always come up just a little bit short of obtaining the Tag Team Championship. In Singles competition it is a different story. Both of us are successful in Singles, both of us have held Singles Title Belts, and I’m currently holding my second Title Belt in Sin City Wrestling and this is the third time I’ve held a Title Belt. You, on the other hand, seem to be the opposite of Unholy Alliance. You and Porter seem to do well in Tag Team competition but when it comes to Singles, well you know, you did lose to a rookie chump named Andre Aquarius recently. Yes you did earn a shot at the Tag Team Championship, and in all honesty I feel bad for you that the Tag Team Division is currently on hold, but to have you placed into my match, where I wanted a one-on-one match with Ryan Keys to put an end to him challenging me, is a travesty. But I have to at least give you credit that you did earn a shot at a Title Belt but it was the Tag Team Title Belts and not my Internet Championship. So I want you to come into our match with the knowledge that I have no intention of losing my Internet Championship to you. I have every intention of winning this match so decisively that the world will be in awe of what I’ve accomplished. Sorry that I have to send you back to your dressing room as a loser but you can rest easy knowing once the Tag Team Division is reactivated they will put you in a Tag Team Championship match and maybe, just maybe, you can pull off a win in that Division.

Pinky:  Are we almost done here James? I feel the urge to cut loose with some more noxious gas.

James:  Dammit Uncle! Go into the bedroom and close the door so the fumes won’t come out here in the living room area! Otherwise you can stay here in the living room but don’t even think of letting one loose! Now, Ryan, it is time for me to once again tell you what you suck and I don’t. Although there are many who continue to claim I’m not a valid Internet Champion the truth remains that I earned the Title Belt I’m wearing. I was in the six man battle royal for the World Heavyweight Championship and I was the fourth wrester eliminated. Although I didn’t make it to the final in that match the fact that I remained actively involved in the match longer than three other wrestlers is a testimony to what I’m capable of. Then when it came down to our fatal four way for the Internet Championship I showed the world that Eyesnsane, Steve Ramone, and you, were no match for me. If you were unable to defeat me in the fatal four way, when you had two other wrestlers attacking me, then I don’t see how you can defeat me in a match where it is just me, you, and Killian.  Sorry that I, once again, have to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re gonna lose to me at Violent Conduct IV.

We can tell that Pinky del Ferrando cannot hold the gas any longer as we watch him jump off the couch and run into the bedroom. Even though Pinky slams the bedroom door closed and we hear the noise from his gas release. Shortly after we hear the door knob on the bedroom door rattle as Pinky grabs it to come back out to the living room.

James:  No Uncle! You keep your smelly ass in the bedroom until the noxious fumes have dissipated! Damn! Ryan, Killian, just remember what I said earlier. You two are coming into this match hoping for glitter glue and Unicorn farts but you will be met with super glue and raw sewage. Have fun losing because I’m damn sure gonna have fun winning!

James indicates to the cameraman that he’s done with his segment comments for today. The cameraman calls into the Network and the Network cuts to a commercial break.

[Roux]

 James

It's too bad you have such a big mouth. I might have had some respect for you before you started talking. What’s worse is that everything you have said is worthless. Trying to justify odds... you can’t compare the odds of a lottery or card game against pure skill. You really have no place to talk. How many times have you gone up against Kris and failed? So twice now you want to put all your chips on the fact that I have lost one singles match and on top of that assume that I intend to have Porter interfere... like your uncle or Dimitri wouldn't do the same right? I would not put all your money on yourself.

But please, since you brought it up, let’s talk about odds. What are the odds that Ryan Keys will help you in this match? You see, Ryan has no reason to hate me. No reason to gang up on me however, who's to say him and I won’t do our best to eliminate you and have a fair fight between us. I mean at least the two of us have relevant things to say and not the useless gibberish you slur out week after week.

You lack charisma Tuscini. That’s a given since you are unable to deliver a promo without your useless trash of a uncle. A good manager knows when to shut up. All yours does is continue to reiterate how much of a joke you are. The fact that you still hold the internet title, or for that matter to win it in the first place is because you constantly have subpar talent thrown in front of you. I would say it was like leading lambs to slaughter but you are only intimidating to those whom you beat because to them they are mice running from a cat. I am no rodent. In fact if we are going to compare calibre and class Tuscini, you are a rat and I am a panther.

So please, tell me again how I am asking for pity... seems the only pathetic one here is you.  You put on your pseudo big boy pants and puff out your chest like we have any reason to be scared. Your promo was like watching a sketch comedy. Wasn't even that funny either. The fart jokes are really getting old though, you really should have Pinky get that checked by a medical professional.

Every week we seem to be regaled with your brand of redundant blabber talk. The fans especially. This is the internet championship. It needs someone younger, more savvy. Someone who actually knows how to deliver to the fans what they are craving. And as much as you try to peg me as ‘ugly’ who is the one with the power to woo women? Certainly not Ryan. Yes, he is attractive. Yes he can model and flex and all that wonderful stuff eye candy is good for.

Wait...

If I didn't know better Jim, can I call you Jim? Good. I’d say you spent an awful amount of time talking about how pretty Keys is... you know you shouldn't be afraid of coming out of the closet. It is 2017 and I hear Ryan and his boyfriend are always looking for thirds to play with.

But back to what I was saying... eye candy Ryan. This man makes a living by calling himself the ‘professional loser” so if I didn't know better Jim, I would say the real reason you seem so agitated is that you know that instead of the odds being not in MY favor they really are not in yours. Even though my wins are all mostly in the tag department. And as an aside James, My match against Aquarius was my SECOND singles match. Pretty sure I destroyed Mickey Carroll in a singles match or did you conveniently forget that so that you could promote your agenda of absolute horseshit? Yeah that's what I thought. But yes, my wins may be tag matches, but that still requires both partners be skilled. It requires critical thinking and sound problem solving. Our team was not thrown together on a whim. Anyway, my win ratio is still way better than yours. In fact, I find that when people bring up facts to you that prove your hypocritical thinking, you clam right up and ignore it. Kinda like how when you claimed on twitter to like beating those who deserve it like Kris and Ryan, Kris called you put on it and then poof... you disappeared. Perhaps that is why you speak first. So that you have an excuse to climb under your desk and cry when I get in front of a camera and prove what a fucking moron you are. Or better yet when I climb in that ring and prove you are full of shit.

The difference between us Jim is that I don't NEED the internet title, or any other title, to stay relevant. I want the internet title because people like having a champion they can relate too, not one that repeats himself like my grandpa Porter used to do whenever we visited. But he had an excuse, he had dementia. What’s your excuse Jim? Or should we just call a spade a spade and say that you lack the creativity and know how to find ACTUAL things to say. I would blame your manager for not doing his job again but I am not one to pick on people with mental disabilities. Honestly though, we get it, he got injured by Harris. Suck it up. It is part of the risk of being in this business whether you are a wrestler or Manager.

But let’s move on for a minute because it would be unfair of me to dismiss Ryan Keys.  Personally, I have no beef with the guy. Like Jim so lovingly described he seems to be the whole package... but is he? Is he really?

Mr. Keys does not seem to have the best track record when it comes to titles. I get the drive to prove yourself. To want to be on top... of the company...

But let’s face facts, Ryan, when he does manage to secure a title win, Everyone cheers, congratulates him because he is the perfect representation of the underdog, but he can’t hold onto it for long. Sure, People relate to him. He befriends the most unlikely of people and is beloved by all but all of that is not going to help. Ryan can beam his care bear tummy symbol at me to try to banish away the ‘ugly’ but in reality, it doesn't even cause a tickle. Titles lose their impact when they constantly change hands. And frankly, even if Ryan got this win, can we all be sure he will even be able to hold on to it? And then wouldn't Jimmy-boy get his re-match and the same tired cycle begins again.

Maybe you all think I somehow bribed my way into this as Tuscini seems to hint at but then tries to backtrack by claiming it's fine since I and Porter are still in line for the tag belts. If you think about it, who else is qualified? Who else could resuscitate another title that seems to be gasping for air? I watched the tag division fall apart, I am not about to stand back and watch it happen with the internet title too.  I can do this. I can get people interested. I can promote this because I actually have an online presence.

Best of all, I am not standing over everyone claiming to be a king or a leader. I am just a Canadian boy wanting to say he was the best this time. And that within the ranks of those who are in this division I am at the top. I actually want people to challenge me and honestly they can keep coming at me as many times as it takes because that is a tenacity I can respect. I hope I push people to try harder. There is nothing more boring than someone who only gives a half hearted effort *cough, cough* James *cough, cough*

Ryan is a good kid. I have a small amount of regret that I will have to hurt him on Sunday. As for James... well I hope he knows when to stay down. Would hate to have to break his face...

Sorry.... I almost made it through that without laughing...

But until Sunday boys, I have people to do and things to see.

He winks before shutting of the camera.

***

***OFF CAMERA***
August 31, 2017
The Sweete Home
Montreal, PQ

It has been a few days since my Mama dropped the bombshell on us that we were not created in a lab or via a donor with a nudie magazine.

Porter seemed indifferent about it all. Nothing really seemed to bother him except when it was me not following his guidelines. Of course it bothered me though, I know something as insignificant shouldn't bother me. I had two loving and incredibly awesome parents who loved all three of us “to the moon and back” as my Mama always said. So you are probably wondering why I cared that I actually had a father out there? Because for a long time I pictured my Mama as this glowing unspoiled angel. I had believed she was unsoiled by male hands but the idea that she had spent three years with a man named Russell Montague shattered that image. Not to mention that he was no Romeo. It meant my brother and I were not actually Sweete’s at all.

And now, I was staring at a letter whilst sitting at my parents kitchen table. I had memorized it, based simply on how many times I had read it. It was from our birth father. Asking us to meet him.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and a mug of warm tea slides in front of me. My Mama takes the seat beside me, moving her hand from my shoulder to my hand.

“Are you okay?”

I offer a half hearted shrug.

“I do not know.”

A frown forms over her lips and I recognize the look of guilt in her eyes.

“I knew you would be the one to be upset. You were there that day. When Russ showed up. I should have just told you the truth then.”

I shake my head. “I don’t blame you for keeping us away from him.”

I point at the letter.

“He talks about everything in this letter. How he hurt you. How he wasn't a good man back then. He doesn't even blame you either. He is just hoping to meet us. If we want.”

I tap the letter again.

“I don’t know if I should believe there isn't an ulterior motive and if so, what does he want? Why now? In all the twenty plus years...”

I shake my head, taking a sip of the tea.

“He wants money.”

The new voice has both me and Mama looking behind us. My sister Calla was leaning against the doorframe. For once she looked more like a woman in a crochet sweater and black tights instead of her usual Jeans and leather.

“Why else would that asshole be sending letters to the both of you?”

She smirks, pushing away to join them at the table.

“Our mothers seem to have awful taste in men Killie. My Father is not a good guy either. If you’re wondering though, Porter is not here because he can no longer throw it in my face that the reason I am so awful is because of having a jackass deadbeat for a father. But even I am not low enough to tease you guys about that. This shit is stuff I don’t mess around with.”

I sigh.

“So you think this is about money?”

It's her turn to shrug.

“Either that or he’s dying...”

***
TBC

[Ryan Keys]

 The Golden Coast Casino
August 30th, 2017
[Off Camera]

“19” the casino dealer announces as he flips over a card, revealing a king of club. He adds it to the already showing nine of hearts in front of Ryan.

Ryan mindlessly draws circles with his wrist, swirling the ice cubes around in his tumbler of whiskey. He slightly bites down on his bottom lip and furrows his brow, as He pretends to study the cards on the table for a moment or two.

In all actuality, Ryan doesn’t even need to give the cards a second glance. He knows exactly what’s going to happen. Chalk it up to years of refining his skills in his home state. Game after game. Casino after casino. There simply isn’t a blackjack table from Vegas to Atlantic City that Ryan hasn’t owned at one point or another.

It isn’t card counting. No, that would be too easy to detect. And besides, Ryan doesn’t need to resort to the standard tricks of the trade. Not when he has his own set of skills. Some say there’s inherited, though he won’t believe it. Of course, it’s not 100% percent accurate. Nothing in life, as Ryan has painfully come to learn, is. But through hours and hours of migraine-inducing practice, he can show off some incredible skill.

Ryan lets out an elongated sigh and runs his hands through his slicked back, short, choppy locks, taking the extra precaution not to get his bulky silver rings stuck as he does. He then looks up at the dealer and with an ever so slight hesitation, taps his fingers on top of his cards.

The dealer reads the signal with a mild sense of shock. “You sure?”

Ryan nods and takes a long sip of his whiskey. “As I’ll ever be.”

With those words, the dealer flips over another card, revealing the two of spades. “Blackjack.”

A small, but noticeable smirk crawls across Ryan’s lips as He gives the signal to hold. He doesn’t need to see the dealer’s hand. Ryan already knows He’s won.

The dealer proceeds to flip over his second card, five of hearts. “Five of hearts. Dealer has 17.”

Ryan takes a moment, as the dealer counts out a neat stack of $100 chips, to readjust his sleeves of his black leather motorcycle jacket.

He grabs a random chip off of the vast pile before his and begins to dance it between his fingers. Back and forth and back again.

One more hand. Just one more before the shift change.

Ryan closes his eyes for a brief moment and downs the rest of his whiskey with one, hard swig. It burns its way down the back of his throat, dulling the array of emotions bubbling just beneath the surface.

Just one more hand before He’ll come face to face with--

CLAP.

Ryan’s eyes pop back open at the all too familiar sound of the dealer clearing his hands. He’s miscalculated. There isn’t one more hand after all.

A wave of panic washes over Ryan as his hand subconsciously reaches upwards and grabs hold of something buried just beneath the collar of his grey v-neck shirt.

“Sir, it’s been a pleasure and I hope your luck continues with my colleague,” the dealer says with a warm smile.

“Thanks,” Ryan manages to reply as He mentally pushes his internal panic back on down and replaces it once again with his cold, almost emotionless, facade.

“Drinks?”

Ryan whips around in his seat, back momentarily facing the table, just in time to catch the waitress as she passes on by. “Bulleit on the rocks.”

“Sure thing, Honey,” the waitress responses, writing down Ryan’s order.

Ryan drops a $25 chip onto the waitress’ tray and then, “Actually, make it a double.”

“You’ve got it.” The waitress scurries off, back into the sea of gamblers, making sure to pocket the chip as she does.

Ryan knows he shouldn’t be throwing his money around like that. Especially given that he’s on borrowed time. But still, old habits die hard, and he also knows that if he doesn’t tip well, then he’ll most likely end up getting served a crappy ass whiskey instead and he can’t afford to have a hangover. Not with what he needs to do.

“Straight up whiskey on the rocks. Pretty boy,” an all too familiar voice calls out from behind Ryan with a slight tone of hatred that signifies one thing and one thing only… that voice is blissfully aware of who he is.

Ryan takes a deep breath, runs his hands again through his hair in a half-ass attempt to smooth down the loose strands, and then with all the confidence he can muster, turns back around.

And suddenly, time stands still.

There, on the other side of the table is the man he’s hated the most all these years. A man that has haunted his dreams for the worst part of that last eight years. The one that took it all away from Ryan forever, all because of greed.

To say that time has been kind to to the older man, is a vast understatement. No, it’s been beyond kind. Ryan hates that he looks so much like him.

Damien’s shares a striking resemblance to him. Same facial structure,same dark brown hair,  same striking blue eyes, that same rugged handsomeness Ryan has. A strong  jawline while being well built for his age. But there is a noticeable difference. Ryan only has the eyes of a killer, this man really is one.

A singular and jarring thought flashes across Ryan’s mind as his eyes finally move upwards to meet Damien’s piercing blue eyes. Forty five years of knowing this man still makes him look like a stranger.

The deviant smile instantly drops off of Damien’s face as his face flashes different emotions for an instant. Surprise… Sadness… Anger… and then, settling in on nothing. Just a hard, cold stare, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

“It’s been a while.” Ryan quietly whispers, breaking the silence between the two of them.

But Damien doesn’t respond. He goes about setting up the cards and stacks of chips as if Ryan’s just another stranger looking to play a hand or two of blackjack. “Place your bet.”

Ryan places a large stack of $100 chips down in the designated circle without even taking a moment to double check just how much he’s betting. It’s an impulsive move. He’s know it, but yet can’t seem to help himself. It’s not about the bet. Not this time.

“That’s it?” Damien scoffs with a subtle hint of sarcasm to his voice. “Not gonna go all in? You know you owe me.”

Ryan looks up, locks eyes with Damien once again, and then, unceremoniously slides the rest of his chips forward.

“Here you go, Sweetheart,”the waitress announces as she places Ryan’s glass of whiskey down in front of his.

“Thanks.” Ryan picks up the glass and takes a much needed sip, letting the whiskey burn its way down his throat as Damien deals out the cards.

“Imbecíl,” Damien mutters in Spanish under his breath as he flips over his hidden card revealing a five of hearts. “Dealer has 15.”

Damien draws another card and turns it over. Six of clubs. Blackjack. “21. Dealer wins.”

Another moment of silence falls between the two of them as Damian starts taking Ryan’s chips. Then--

“Da...”

Damien looks up from the stacks of chips with a flash of anger in his eyes. “I told you not to come back in here without what you owe me. But I guess you’re still as worthless as ever,huh, Jason.”

Worthless. An icy cold chill runs down Ryan’s spine at the sound of his real name. It feels foreign and yet it’s the truth. He’s almost forgotten it.

“We're done here. Table’s closed.”

But Ryan doesn’t respond. He’s still shaken from the man’s words that he fails to register him leaving the table. Regardless of how much his impulsive side wanted to haul the man back, Ryan just left shaking in anger.

He can’t hold on to his emotions, he needs to beat it out of himself… better yet. Someone else. With bitterness in his eyes, Ryan stands up and proceeds to leave the table and exit the casino. It was a mistake coming back, and now he has to resort to going back to the one place he could blow off some steam.

"A score to settle"
Sweat box underground arena
Las Vegas, Nevada
[On Camera]

“I’m going to settle a score. Even if I have to get violent.”

Ryan Keys is a run down, grimy looking looker room. There is an unsettling roar coming from every direction, forcing their way through the crooked walls. It’s a loud crowd cheering for some poor bastards fighting for money that won't even cover their damages. Ryan is at the old Sweatbox fighting arena he came from before wrestling. Once again dwelling in his roots as an illegal fighter. The broken tube lighting above him flickered as he gets himself ready.

“It’s time for me to fight like I mean it, like I actually give a damn. This time I’m not about showing off and looking flashy, no. I’ll leave that for when I have the Internet title belt around my waist, something that’s really worth showing off.”

He’s wrapping up his hands and wrists with white tape as he gets ready. There’s a rugged look to Ryan. A five o'clock shadow, a menacing look to his cold eyes, and the broadness of his body being highlighted by sweat. He has the look of a dangerous man.

“Violence is something I’m capable of, and I’m pretty damn good at it. It’s how I survived, how I used to live, it’s what earned me enough not to be living at some random alley here in Vegas. Fighting is what I craves at one point, and I’m sensing that need again. No holding back, no fairness, no bullshit gimmicks changing the name of the game. This Sunday it’s all about three guys stepping inside the ring going into a fight. One will win, one will lose, and the other is gonna feel like he shouldn’t have even been in the match. I’m here to tell you that I will be the man to win, because that last two options are not acceptable. I have a score to settle, I have an unlucky streak to break and at Violent conduct is where I can finally get something to go my way. “

He chuckles to himself before having a sly grin on his dirty face. Ryan holds up two fingers while looking dead straight at the camera as his face looks determined, pissed and ready for a fight as the volume of the crowd in the arena gets even louder. Waiting for the shouts to die down, he loosens his neck and hops in place to keep himself pumped.  

“There are two guys that I need to take down, and I’m not gonna play favorites here. Each one has a reason for me to kick the shit out of them for that title. James, Killan, I don’t care who’s first. Just know that I got my reasons that are simple to understand. I wanna win. And these two are in my way. It’s not about if I like them or not, cause at the end of the day if I don’t win I won’t matter enough to even look at twice. And that doesn’t sit right with me. I’m not here in SCW to lose and be called one of it’s hottest superstars. That is NOT the title I came here to get. There’s only one title on my mind right now, and it’s as good as mine on Sunday.”

He looks like he's fuming along with an impatient feel to Ryan as he paces back and forth, slicking his mid-brown hair back. Ryan’s hands are shaking, yet he doesn’t let thats how often before he exhales and places his hands on his hips. Uncontrollably, his fingers scratch at the hem of his black compression shorts hugging his toned thighs Ryan’s been working on.

“Killian, this isn’t personal. But I’d be pissed off if you went easy on me like you did Andre. Why you lost your match sure as hell beats me, but that’s not gonna be good enough  and you know it. You better have your shit together, or else it’s gonna be real sad to have the match end so fast. I’m that determined to get what I came for, to finally win what I’ve been working for. I’m sick and tired of coming in last with the only consolation being that I get handed about match the following week with someone random.  This match is my chance to have my name up there for people to see and know that I’m still in SCW. I've done it once,and I’ll do it again. Just you watch. If you get in my way it’s going down. I’m gonna hit your head so hard you’ll think I have a twin. I’m not a laughing matter to deal with, and I’ll make sure you realize that when you get in the ring with me. It’s a promise I’m making to you,and I’m planning to keep it.”

He nods. There’s a smirk on his face as he raises one finger this time. An even more crazed look comes to his face while thinking about this next one. Keeping his short fuze anger in check, ryan breathes in deep while trying to muster up the words to say with a bitter look to his face.

“Then we have James…. Hello again James. How's your head? You ain’t looking so good. I’ll remember that. You and your uncle keep flaunting how I can’t beat you, pulling out all these numbers out of your asses like they actually mean something. But go ahead, underestimate me. Rely on those stats all you want. There is only three numbers I need to beat you, and that 1, 2, and 3. That’s how long it takes to settle the score. It only takes one win from me to wipe that busted grin off your face. I’m not below you as a fighter. I lose and I climb back up to your level EASY.”

Ryan emphasises that last word before a spike on his temper flared. With a deep grunt, his  hand changes to a fist that slams against the side of a locket. It’s metallic sound echoes loudly in the beaten down locker room as it’s closed doors opens. He hitches a breath before calming down.

“Even if it takes me WEEKS to get back up I do it. You wanna know why? Because I’m determined to be here. I didn’t just wanted my way to the ring, I worked hard to prove that I can fight.  To prove that I’m not WORTHLESS.”

Ryan is a bit heartfelt and taken back by his last words before shaking them off. He removes his fist from the locks and wipes his face for a moment. It’s a side he’s never shown before and it’s all coming out now that he’s in a place that makes him remember about his past.

“I have a worth to prove, and there is not a thing that’s gonna stop me. Call me the SCW pretty boy if you want, but I know what people will eventually call me. And that a champion. Specifically the internet champion pass this Sunday. I know your weakness, James. I know you’re hurt. There’s blood in the water and I can sure as hell can smell it. I just need three seconds, that’s all it takes. I’ll prove that I can beat you, just you watch.”

He relaxes as the announcers voice on the overhead speaker blares off in the distance announcing the next match. It’s finally time for Ryan to blow off some steam.

“My battles are won in the ring, Gentlemen. All this is just talk for some hype. But James knows that I push him to his limits, that I’m not just all bark and no bite. And Killian will learn this, it’s a shame that it has to be the hard way. Because when I’m here, training, my fighting side gets triggered, and there's only one way to get it all out. You both my think I’m just some pretty boy looking to pose for the next camera, and that’s fine.”

Ryan shrugs once more while rolling his shoulders a bit. From his bag, he pulls out a cross before going silent for a moment.

“Call me whatever you want… truth is.”

His name gets called on the speaker, having him close his eyes for a brief moment before they open, gazing straight at the camera.

“I’m just a fighter.”