“This is a fuckin’ joke, right?”
Staring at the screen in disbelief while sitting on the couch in his New York townhome, Malachi resisted the urge to rub his eyes comically as he read the card for the upcoming edition of Climax Control. Popping her head over his shoulder from behind him, his wife Bella Madison read the card over as well, a giggle escaping her lips.
“Oh, that is gonna be goooood!” she singsonged, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I can’t wait to see you beat the snot out of that little twerp!”
“Seriously? My first match back in months, in a title tournament no less...and they give me that fuckin’ loser?” Dropping his phone in his lap, Mal ran his hands down his face while groaning. “They could have at least given me a challenge. This Butterball will get winded just making his bloody entrance.”
Bella wrapped her arms around Mal’s chest, resting her chin on his shoulder from behind. “Well, think of it this way - at least you’ll have an easy bye to the next round of the tournament. And believe it or not, you’ll probably be the one getting cheered in this match. That guy could make Mr. Rogers hate him.”
He gave her a withering side-eyed look. “After how many years we’ve been together, you still think I give a crap if I get booed or cheered?”
She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Yes, yes, Mr. Grumpy Pants.” Then, muttering under her breath, “Should get Candy to make this a glitter bomb match.”
“I think the fuck not!” Mal exclaimed, rising from his chair and whirling around to haul Bella over his shoulder. “You do, and I’ll break every damn one of your coffee mugs!”
She struggled in his grasp as he hauled her off towards the bedroom. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me.”
He flung her down onto the bed, and immediately pounced on her. They playfully fought for a few moments before Luka leapt up to join in the fun, barking and licking at their faces. The two of them collapsed, breathless from laughter with Luka still trying to get at them before she eventually flopped down above their heads. After they both recovered, Bella turned to cuddle into Mal’s side.
“All I’m saying is that this is our big chance. You in the Internet Title tournament, me running the gauntlet to finally get my one on one with Krystal for the Roulette title...we could both be holding gold again here soon. Only this time it’ll be singles gold.”
“Hey, I thought you wanted us to team up again and go for the Mixed Tag titles.”
“Well, yeah...but that plan will have to go on the back burner for now. I’m not opposed to the idea, but you know the rule.”
“Yeah, yeah, can’t hold two titles at the same time.” He wrapped his arms around Bella and pulled her tight to him, and soon the two of them (along with Luka) had dozed off.
---------------
“So, this is the big ‘welcome back’ I get, huh?”
An unimpressed glare painted the features of Malachi as his baby blue eyes stared daggers through the camera, his arms folded across his chest. Dressed in a loose black tank top and royal blue shorts, the returning SCW star looked just as he always did, a condescending smirk gracing his lips as he uncrossed his arms and reached up to scratch at his cheek. “Not that I was expecting wine and roses, mind you. But if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m a bit shocked that Mark and Christian even wanted me in this tournament to begin with. I haven’t exactly endeared myself to them in the past, so the fact that I’m getting this opportunity is a bit…humbling.”
There was a brief pause to allow the people watching this promo to recover from the shock of Malachi uttering such a statement before the snark returned. “Now, I’m not saying that I should just waltz back in and immediately get a title handed to me, unlike some delusional fuckwits infesting this company…” He gave a pointed look towards the camera. “But I at the very least expected Mark to give me a worthy challenge. Instead, I get a dumpy, loudmouth, arrogant dope who still lives with his mother and is delusional enough to think that’s he’s fuckin’ undefeated?” Mal scoffed derisively. “Don’t know what kind of fucked-up fantasy world he’s living in, but I’m about to kick his ass into reality.”
He paced a few steps, resting his hands on his hips as he did so. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t hate you, because that would imply a strong feeling towards you. I literally could not give less of a fuck towards you. The only thing you are to me is a really big roadblock on my way to becoming the Internet champion. The fact that someone like you is not only taking up valuable space on this roster but actually considered for this tournament is a fuckin’ joke. And no one is laughing, least of all me.”
He stopped back in the centre of the camera frame, folding his arms back across his chest as he stared daggers at the lens through narrowed eyes. “I will give you this, though - most of the jackasses stuck behind their keyboards are all talk and no fuckin’ action. You at least had the balls to actually step up and step into the ring. So kudos to you on that front. But what you have in bravery, you also have in stupidity times one hundred. Especially if you have any delusions of getting past me in this tournament. The only reason I’m back in SCW is to add more gold to my resume, and the Internet title is square in my sights. And it’ll be a cold, cold day in hell before someone like you stops me from doing what I came here to do.”
With one final glare and a thumb drawn across his throat with a snarl, Malachi stalks out of the scene as the camera slowly fades out to black.
