SCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP
WYATT PETERSON and SEAN WILLIAMS © vs. THE ARISTOCRATSFriday, February 24th. Chett Hawkins sits at the bar at the Palms Casino; sarsaparilla in hand.
“Blaze Of Glory... February 26th... live from the Palms...”
Chett takes one last gulp of his drink and sits it on the counter. “Peterson and Williams, you boys have somethin’ Steve and I want badly. Those SCW Tag straps need to be holding up my pants. Gold ain’t your best color kids. Ya know... ya need to shine those up for us before Sunday.”
Hawkins pushes his hair back and puts his hat back on. He slides a tip to the bartender and gets up. “Boys, Sunday is goin’ to be one helluva long night for ya. You are steppin’ in the ring with two of the very best in this damn business. You need to listen and listen closely to what I’m sayin’. Sunday night is your last night with those damn belts.”
Chett makes his way out into the Vegas night. The lights of the strip shine brightly. “Peterson and Williams, do yourselves a favor. Go eat your Wheaties, take your vitamins, and maybe have a few drinks before our match. You two are gonna need to bring your A game Sunday if you stand a snowball’s chance in hell of walking out in one piece.”
Hangman heads down the street. The freaks of the Vegas night are out in full force but they all stare in awe of the one true freak. “The sand in your hourglass has almost run out. Sunday night you will feel the wrath of the Aristocrats. You will step up to the Hangman’s gallows... and you’ll feel the short drop and the quick stop! Sunday night... Blaze Of Glory... Scanlon and Hawkins walk away with the straps!
Static...
