[Peter Vaughn]

~The picture opens up on a beautiful shot of the Garden of Betrayal, shown through the lens of our intrepid cameraman. He is moving forward along the path, grumbling to himself as he continues the journey towards the center of the garden area that Peter Vaughn had built in this specific lot. There are a few other people walking around the paths, admiring the floral additions to the now-public garden. The cameraman passes by one such couple, with the first lady talking excitedly about the shrubbery.~

First Woman: I'm telling you, Flo, this was shipped into the country. This bush has the Rose of Jericho, the Anastatica. There's no way it should be here in Texas, growing the way it is! It had to have been imported from Iraq, or somewhere in the Middle East!

Second Woman: So it's a pretty flower from overseas. So what? It's not like it's that different from the Yellow Roses of Texas...

First Woman: I'm just saying, I hope they got the correct permits for this. It's like introducing a foreign lifeform into the soil. Who knows what will happen next?

Second Woman: There you go overexaggerating again. It's not an alien, Christie. Now, c'mon, let's get something to eat. All this walking has made me hungry.

~The first woman, Christie, laughs at her girlfriend's appetite as they walk off. The cameraman, meanwhile, takes a closer shot of the plant in question.~

Cameraman: Hmmm. I'll have to remember to ask SCW if they can backdate some paperwork, just in case...

~Sighing, the cameraman moves on, knowing his way through the paths now to get to his destination. He comes around the corner to the large pavilion in the center of the 'labyrinth', where he finds Peter Vaughn sitting with another individual, apparently talking business. The cameraman, taking note of a story when he sees it, starts to zoom in, but Vaughn seems to sense his presence. He gets up, blocking the view, as he turns to the man in question.~

Peter Vaughn: Just consider my offer, okay? Now, I've got some other business to attend to, so if you'll excuse me...

~Vaughn turns and walks over to the cameraman, his arms outstretched as if welcoming him. Of course, it's also to help shield the man, who's quickly hurrying away down the opposite path. The cameraman, apparently deciding it's in his best interests not to follow, focuses on Vaughn instead.~

Peter Vaughn: So, enjoy the walk here, boyo?

Cameraman: If I have to keep filming you here, I'm going to lose 20 pounds from all the walking. That's if my knees hold up from the strain of carrying the equipment.

Peter Vaughn: They'll make it. The lesser weight will certainly help. Never knock exercise, it's good for you. So let's talk.

~Vaughn waves the cameraman over to the side, where a large metal swing has been set up. The cameraman hesitates for a moment as Vaughn gets to it, taking a seat and swinging back and forth.~

Cameraman: When did this get here?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, the Garden of Betrayal will be changing regularly, friend. I plan there to be something new every chance I get. It makes things more... interesting.

Cameraman: Uh huh.

~Vaughn smirks as he continues a slow rock back and forth, while taking a second to pull himself back together.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about how things are progressing. My Saviors ally, Goth, is back and getting near full strength, having beaten down Bill Barnhart decisively at Violent Conduct IX. Meanwhile, I got maybe a little too into the Knockouts Only match for my Roulette Championship, as I probably didn't need to use that sledgehammer to knock Eddie Lyons out. Still, one can't say that it didn't work successfully, right? Hopefully, Lyons is able to resume his career once his ears stop ringing. If they ever do.

~Vaughn shrugs, not at all ashamed at having won the match within the 'rules', as they were. He then finally stands up out of the swing, getting to his feet, so that he can pat the championship still wrapped around his waist.~

Peter Vaughn: One hundred and thirty-two days so far as Roulette Champion. We're continuing to rack up the history there. That's already more days than Goth's most recent run with the title. I'm gaining on his 155-day run in 2015. The 190 day record shared by Griffin Hawkins and Alex Jones? We've got to make it to November to challenge for that one. But then, November's not that far away, is it? Halfway through September already... which means I bet the challengers start getting more and more intense the closer I get.

~Vaughn's smile falters slightly as he thinks things over, as we can hear some of the birds chirping happily through the new 'space' for them to nest in.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you think the record will be protected? I mean, a lot of people really love that Hawkins, so they may not take too kindly to me challenging his record. I don't know about Jones, other than his name is so... ordinary. Still, he might have friends too in the higher-ups. Roger Maris went through hell trying to break Babe Ruth's record. I wonder if I'll be going through the same thing. Hopefully with less hair loss.

~After a moment's more contemplation, the smile breaks through on Vaughn's face once more.~

Peter Vaughn: That said, I welcome the challenge. I want to prove I deserve to be in the running for the longest Roulette Champion ever. I don't know if facing guys like Rodrigo Afonso will do that, but at least it's a match. It's an opportunity for me to get out there and once again add a successful defense to my long list of competitors I've taken down so far. At the end of all of this, I want people to say "That was the greatest Roulette Champion of all time"...

~With that, Vaughn sits back in the swing, rocking as he nods to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: And, of course... that's just the beginning... Sin City will never know what hit them.

~Vaughn takes a deep breath and lets it out, before looking back at the cameraman, as if remembering he's still there.~

Peter Vaughn: Feel free to relax for a bit before heading back. I know it's a long journey. Drinks are in the cooler over there.

~Vaughn gestures, but the cameraman doesn't turn away. He seems to zoom in slightly on Vaughn, wanting a closer view for his question.~

Cameraman: That guy you were sitting with...

Peter Vaughn: ... What about him?

Cameraman: He seemed very familiar to me. I feel like I've seen him... backstage at a Sin City event...

~Vaughn's eyes open slightly wider, before he shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Nope. You're thinking of someone else. This guy's, uh, shorter. So, anyway, I've got to go. Enjoy the drinks!

~Vaughn pops out of the swing, dusting himself off before heading quickly down the path, away from the cameraman, who stays zoomed in on him, following as long as possible before Vaughn disappears around a bend. The cameraman then sighs before moving over to the cooler, popping it open... and finding what appear to be Capri Sun's. He sighs again, before shutting off the feed.~


~As the images start coming back, we're apparently in an extremely dark place. Either that, or the cameraman forgot to remove the lens cap. But seconds later, we find ourselves blinded by a bright light, flashing right at the camera. It comes closer, allowing us to see that it's from a miner's helmet, worn by none other than Peter Vaughn. He's looking around the dark space, looking for any imperfections in the wall. He apparently finds something, as he marks one side with a red mark.~

Peter Vaughn: I want another support placed here. You can never make something like this 'too safe', okay? Otherwise, it's coming along nicely, Joe.

~Vaughn turns back, showing there's another worker behind Vaughn, who is already making a note to himself on his phone about the new support strut needed.~

Joe: We'll get that done, sir. We'll have this irrigation well fully built for you by the end of the week, you don't have to worry about it.

Peter Vaughn: I appreciate your confidence, but this isn't a rush job. Make sure it's good. I'd hate for this to cave in on anyone in the near future.

~Vaughn looks around for a second, perhaps remembering his recent adventures overseas where he was temporarily buried alive. It's not something you easily forget. Vaughn then nods to Joe before moving out of the passageway, heading towards where the light is coming in. He heads there, climbing out and switching off his headlamp before setting the helmet to the side. Waiting for him there, with her arms crossed, is his top ranch hand, Sadie Anderson.~

Sadie Anderson: Having fun down there in the dirt, while the rest of us are taking care of all the afternoon chores?

Peter Vaughn: "Chores"? You make it sound like all of those guys you made me bring aboard here aren't getting paid for their work. They've been doing a great job of it, but they're not cheap, are they?

Sadie Anderson: You can have things cheap, fast, or dedicated: pick two.

~Vaughn smirks, before getting himself dusted off. He's still got on his usual coveralls, his favorite to wear even in the Texas heat. Sadie is more appropriately dressed for a ranch hand, complete with her gray cowboy hat perched on her head.~

Peter Vaughn: So what brings you out there, other than to complain about my work habits?

Sadie Anderson: Well, I know you're still catching up on mail now that you're back in the states, but I wanted to make sure you saw this one, since it's coming up tonight.

~Sadie hands over a large letter to Vaughn, who raises an eyebrow at her.~

Peter Vaughn: ... You've read my mail?

Sadie Anderson: I didn't have to. I know what this one is about.

~Intrigued, Vaughn pops open the letter, looking at the invitation within. He reads through it at least twice before looking back at Sadie, confused.~

Peter Vaughn: The Cattleman's Ball? Is this a pretty important event or something?

Sadie Anderson: I'd say so. All of the cattle barons around these parts will be there, along with politicians, advisors, and other important figures in our industry. It's the chance for all you fat cats to get together and brag about your accomplishments for the year, while blowing a bunch of money on booze and caviar.

Peter Vaughn: I'll have you know, I've never been fat a day in my life. I mean, it's hard to be fat when you grow up poor, but I've never let myself get that way after getting financially secure, either. That said... is this that important? I've got a few projects here on the ranch I'm still behind on, thanks to the overseas tour.

Sadie Anderson: Will those you care about give a damn if you're not there? Nope. They'll be fine with it. But will the people we need to keep this ranch growing the way you want take offense? Probably. I really do think you should go.

~Vaughn thinks about that for a few seconds, looking around the ranch area. It's become his pride and joy since buying it last year, as he's really turned it into a viable business in only a relatively short amount of time. It's his business away from the wrestling ring, and it's something that he wants to see succeed. That makes his decision obvious.~

Peter Vaughn: Alright. Guess I'll go, then, if we can get a reservation.

Sadie Anderson: That shouldn't be a problem.

Peter Vaughn: So. Want to come with me?

~Sadie, who had been starting to walk away to make the phone calls, stops abruptly.~

Sadie Anderson: ... What did you say?

Peter Vaughn: Just asked if you want to come. I'm usually supposed to have a +1 in this situation, right?

~Sadie seems speechless, trying to work it through in her head that Peter Vaughn has actually asked her out. But Vaughn's expression hasn't changed. He just seems to be looking at her with a friendly grin, but nothing else behind it. Confused, she just nods.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, then. It says here 6pm, but we'll probably want to leave early due to that Dallas traffic. I'll meet you out here at 5:00? Cool. I'm going to head back down, check on how Joe's doing. Digging can be treacherous, after all. I'll see you later? ... Okay, bye!

~Still smiling, Vaughn turns and goes back under, disappearing from sight. Sadie's still standing there, stunned. How many times has she thought about this moment? And yet she was completely unprepared for it. She shakes her head, trying to recover, when suddenly, she hears a scraping noise, as Vaughn walks back out of the work area.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry. Forgot my hat.

~Vaughn pops on the miner's helmet, before considering that Sadie still looks out of it.~

Peter Vaughn: You okay? Go and get some water. This Texas heat is nothing to scoff at.

~With that, Vaughn heads back inside, as Sadie just nods her head slowly before walking off towards the homestead. We fade out.~


It's crazy the things you have to do to stand out, isn't it?

Like, for instance, having a match at a major Pay-Per-View with the Troll.

I know, Rod, you're probably going to expect me to bash you for facing someone like him at the event preceding your title shot. But you know what? I, too have faced the Troll at a major event. Well, sort of. He kind of fell in the pool during the Ultimate X match before we had even really gotten going. But it still counts, I suppose. So that means that you and I have that in common. We've both beaten the Troll on a big stage.

The difference is, I did it for a championship, after I'd already earned my accolades here in Sin City. You, Rodrigo? You still have barely gotten your feet wet at this point. At least most of my opponents have done enough to be declared true contenders. Even Eddie Lyons had to win a #1 contendership for this opportunity. But you, Roddy? You just show up, beat the Troll, and they say you're worthy?

It has to be that gold medal, doesn't it? They think you could be someone because you did well in the Olympics once upon a time... for skateboarding. Gotta say, kid, I'm not really a fan of that 'sport'. Sure, you have to have good balance and be athletic, but you never have to dodge as a steel chair is swung into your face, so is it TRULY a sport? Still, I guess it comes with a little prestige, just seeing how they're rushing you into a title shot, just like they pushed Lyons because of his family connections.

It's funny. I've never needed my family's reputation to be successful in this business. It's surprising how many of you seem to lean on that.

But let's not take away from the fact that you are athletic, Rodney. You definitely have the design specs to become something truly special in this sport. Even that crispy-fried face of yours will come in handy in the wrestling ring, as the fans love to boo someone's looks. Trust me, I've been on the receiving end of that before. The face paint should at least help.

What you're lacking, Rod, is the experience necessary to hang in that ring with someone like me. It's the same problem Eddie Lyons had, and look at him now. What are you going to do, boyo, if you get put in a Knockouts Only match against me? Are you going to try and hit me with your skateboard? Is that your only weapon? Because skateboards break, kid. So do bones, if they're hit just right.

I almost ended one man's career, kid. I'd hate to end yours as well. Maybe you ought to think about returning to the Olympics and leaving the professional work to us grown-ups.

Because I certainly can't guarantee your safety when you're in there with me. All I can guarantee is that, when it's all over, I'll be walking out still the SCW Roulette Champion. You, however, might just be leaving on a stretcher.

But that'll all depend on the Wheel, won't it?


~We're later on in the day now, judging by the light coming through the windows. Peter Vaughn walks in from the side, having gotten in his workout before getting cleaned up. He's now wearing what appears to be an expensive tuxedo, one that he had custom made for events like this. He never looks comfortable in it, though, as he's currently fidgeting with the cufflinks.~

Peter Vaughn: You about ready up there, Sadie? We probably need to get going. They mailed over our RSVP, right? So we're set?

~From upstairs, we hear Sadie's voice, as she finishes up her last-minute additions to her outfit.~

Sadie Anderson: Yes, we've got what we need. Give me one more minute, okay?

Peter Vaughn: ...

~Vaughn moves over to the side, taking a seat in one of the large chairs. But it rocks slightly, immediately getting his attention. He pops up, pushing the chair over so that he can look at the legs, checking them out. He reaches into one inside pocket of his tux... pulling out a wrench that he apparently carries with him always. He does a couple of twists on one leg, readjusting it. He then checks the others, confident that they're holding, before putting the chair back down. It now doesn't rock as Vaughn sits, earning a smile from him as he pockets the wrench again. In the meantime, Sadie has appeared in a gorgeous green dress, shimmering in the light as she walks carefully down the stairs. She smiles shyly at Vaughn, who glances up at her.~

Peter Vaughn: Nice dress. Did it cost a lot?

Sadie Anderson: I... well, it wasn't cheap...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, neither was this penguin suit. Anyhow, I think I've got this chair fixed. Nobody had told me that it was getting loose on the bottom. I'll have to check the supports later, see if they're holding. So are you about ready to go?

~Sadie seems a little put off by the lack of comments about her dress, adding to her confusion about tonight's event. But she decides to just push through and see what happens.~

Sadie Anderson: I'm ready, yes. Did you rent a car for tonight?

Peter Vaughn: ... No. Was I supposed to?

Sadie Anderson: Well, I don't think this is an event you go to in your truck...

~Vaughn's eyes narrow at the thought of not driving his beloved Gabriella tonight. It's a gorgeous truck, but then, it probably ISN'T setting the right statement as they arrive. Vaughn then shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay then. We'll take Thiago.

Sadie Anderson: ... Thiago?

~We have a quick camera cut, taking us into one of the small warehouses on the ranch property where Vaughn keeps many of his belongings. One of them, apparently, is a shiny sports car, as he pulls the cover off of it to reveal it to Sadie.~

Sadie Anderson: ... I've NEVER seen this before! How'd you keep this hidden? Where did you even get it??

Peter Vaughn: Eh, it was the prize for winning a tournament a while back. I mostly just let Thomas drive it, but he's still recovering, so it's been staying here lately. You think this will work?

Sadie Anderson: Can... can I drive it?

Peter Vaughn: Hah. No. Get in.

~Vaughn quickly goes to the other side, hopping inside, as Sadie reluctantly gets in the passenger seat. With both doors shut, the sports car revs up, before peeling out of the warehouse garage. It's obviously been well-maintained by Vaughn, as it drives smoothly away from the ranch, speeding up as it hits the highway nearby. Clearly, they're going to get to the Cattleman's Ball quicker than expected. We cut away again.~


I love moving fast. It's a thrill that I'll never grow tired of.

I think you can appreciate that, Roddy. Whether you're on your feet, on a board, or in an automobile, there's nothing like that acceleration that can get your blood pumping.

Of course, going too fast can quickly get you sidelined. Hope that's not in your future, Afonso.

BTW... I have to ask... why Afonso? Did you worry so much about "taking the L" that you had it removed from your name? I get it, it's a family name, and I'm probably being insensitive by even bringing it up, but I gotta admit, I'm really wanting to say "Alfonso" every single time. Oh well. People used to leave the "N" off the end of my name, so I guess that's another thing we have in common.

So in a contest like this, I'm sure you think your best chance would be a fast-paced affair, and I can understand that. The problem is, Rod, you and I are pretty similar in that regard. Everything that will work towards your skill set? It'll do the same for me. You and I, we're not power lifters. We're not brainless muscle heads. No, we're high-flyers, and that means that we could really steal the show this week if the match gods are kind to us.

But while we're pretty even in that department, Roderick, I excel above you in almost every other category. Obviously, I'm more experienced, but I'm also better thinking through problems, which is something you need in the Roulette division. After all, you're entering a match with no prep time, so you have to be able to think on your feet. You think racing a skateboard towards a ramp prepares you for something like that?

Well, you're wrong. It doesn't prepare you at all.

I hope I can show you something at Climate Control, boyo. I hope I can give you some lessons in life that will stick with you the rest of your time on this planet. Maybe, by facing me, you'll end up a better wrestler in the long run. Or maybe you'll end up with a concussion because the rule book is thrown out the window. Hey, anything's possible, in this kind of atmosphere.

Still, Roddy, for all my insults, I AM kind of looking forward to this one. I think you'd be one who could hang with me in the speed and agility department, and that could give me a true test once we enter the squared circle... assuming that's where the match takes place. I always like challenging myself, and I hate being disappointed. At any event I'm competing, I want to have the best match of the night, every time. If that doesn't happen? It's because my opponent came in unprepared for the contest. Don't be that man, Rod.

Give me the fight that I crave. Live up to your supposed gymnastic roots. But don't lean on them too heavily. I see too many cartwheels, I'm going to start considering dislocating a knee or two.

Athletic flips are fine, just keep them at a minimum. Ain't nobody going to be judging you except for the fans, and their opinions shouldn't drive you. Also, leave the tights at home. Wrestle like a man, okay? Coveralls are fine, though.

Overall, Roddy, I want to have the crowd stunned by how quickly we're maneuvering through the ropes, once again talking about how great the Roulette Championship is. I want this to be the match they're looking forward to, rather than any other title match on the card. And I need you to pull your weight. You got that, kid? You going to be able to handle the pressure and stay with me?

Or will I be too fast for you? Guess we'll see your speed when you're taking the Plunge...


~The video comes back showing us at the Cattleman's Ball, a very fancy event clearly at one of the top hotels in Dallas. The shot shows us Peter Vaughn mingling with a couple of wealthy Texans, joking with them about his recent exploits over seas.~

Peter Vaughn: And then I worked a deal to purchase all of his goats, and have them managed overseas to increase my profits!

~The two men laugh heartily, with one shaking his head at the thought.~

Rich Man: So technically you're a goat farmer! That's hilarious! I tell you what, Vern, we need to consider diversifying like that ourselves!

~The other man nods, even as Vaughn takes a drink of the champagne, his face twitching slightly at the taste. Vaughn's always been a beer man, but you drink what's free at an event like this.~

Rich Man: You've got a good head on your shoulders, son! We really should talk some business after tonight's festivities!

Peter Vaughn: I'm all for it, sir. Right now, though, I need a refill. We'll talk later!

~The man laughs and nods, as Vaughn takes his champagne glass and walks away, quickly putting it on a passing tray. He doesn't grab another one, instead heading off to the side, where he sees Sadie quietly sitting, looking down. Vaughn heads over to her, a smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: You were right, Sadie. It's a pain talking to some of these bigwigs, but it'll be worth it in the end, I think. How are you enjoying the event? Tried the salmon yet? It was a little salty for me...

Sadie Anderson: I... I'm sorry, I need to get some air. Excuse me.

~Sadie gets up, hurrying past Vaughn, who raises an eyebrow, confused. He watches her go out to a balcony, with his instincts telling him to follow her. He stops for a second, though, to discuss something quickly with a nearby waiter, before heading out there. Sadie is turned away from him, looking out over the city, as he joins her.~

Peter Vaughn: ... What's going on, Sadie? You seem... unhappy. Coming here was your idea, right?

Sadie Anderson: ...

~Sadie stays quiet, just staring outwards, with Vaughn trying to figure it all out. But his strength is in the ring, not in understanding relationships. He takes a deep breath, trying again.~

Peter Vaughn: Was it me, Sadie? Did I... do something?

~After a moment, Sadie finally turns to face him.~

Sadie Anderson: I suppose it's the fact that you DIDN'T do something... but I shouldn't blame you for that. You're just doing what you always do. You're being... you.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I've never been good at being anyone else...

Sadie Anderson: I just think I got my hopes up. You finally asked me to come with you. You wanted me here. But then... you've barely hung out with me tonight. You've just been out there talking with others...

Peter Vaughn: I... I thought that's what you wanted me to do? For the ranch?

Sadie Anderson: I guess I wanted it to be about me as well... your 'date'...

~Vaughn doesn't know quite how to take this, turning to stare out at the city he's lived most of his adult life. But when he finally speaks, he seems to finally understand.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm not... good at that kind of stuff, Sadie. You know that. I miss signs. I don't make connections. But... I DID enjoy coming out here with you. I was glad we were here. All I can say, Sadie, is that... I'm trying. And I'll learn from this. And maybe, the next time we go out... I'll learn from this, and stay by you more.

Sadie Anderson: You... you want to go out again? With me?

Peter Vaughn: Why not? It hasn't been that bad, has it?

~The waiter comes out onto the balcony, this time carrying a couple of Yellow Rose beers. He brings them over, with both Sadie and Peter taking them. Sadie can't help but smile.~

Sadie Anderson: No. No, it hasn't been that bad...

~The two take a drink together, before both turn to look out at Dallas once more. It's a peaceful night out there, one seemingly full of possibilities. We slowly fade out.~