The howling wind blows across a desert, sand being blown in all directions over the sand dunes that rise from the ground below. Three black dots are seen in the distance as the camera slowly passes over the swirling sand, caught in the winds harsh whirls, causing a long whistle through the air. The camera moves closer to the three dots, slowly forming in to three bodies, the camera high above the trio, before moving in closer to see the form of three men. The three men wear white pants, worn with use and discolored due to the suns exposure. The camera moves closer, showing the man in the middle, dressed in a loose white shirt, with a bandana around his face, blocking the sand from hitting his face. His six foot, three inch frame burns in the sun, his brown hair flopping with sweat as he stops walking, turning to the man on the left.
"It's here somewhere." He tells him.
The man, wearing sunglasses, standing at about six foot four, with short receding hair, and neat goatee beard, looks towards him.
"You've been saying that for hours." He says with a German accent. "Yet we haven't found a damn thing."
The man in the middle turns to his right, looking at the other man.
"I just know it." He tells him.
The third man, also standing at around six foot four, isn't wearing a shirt, but his face covered with a blood red bandana, his arms covered in tattoos, and a heavy looking backpack on his back. He looks towards the man in the middle.
"What he said." He gruffly says.
The man in the middle pulls a map from his back pocket, looking down at the aged paper, wrinkled from years of use. His eyes narrow as the sand blows around him.
"It has to be." The obvious leader says to himself.
"Well I'm not staying here on a wild goose chase" The German accented man says firms.
"It's that way" the leader informs him.
He points with his hand at a sand dune, not too far away from the men. The tattooed man shakes his head slow as he looks in the distance.
"It better be." He firmly says "Because I'm getting sick and tired of..."
The leader holds his hand up, cutting off his cohort in mid sentence.
"It will be over there." He says "Right over that dune. It's what the map says."
The two men sigh deeply as the leader takes the initiative and starts to walk in the direction pointed to. They exchange glances as the two slowly follow the man walking five feet in front of them, the wind blowing heavily in their faces as the sand flies in countless directions, almost covering their foot prints instantly. Another speck is seen in the distance, watching every move the three travelers make. The camera move closer to the speck to see the figure of a man. The camera shows the man to have wild black untamed hair, moving in time with the blowing wind crossing his face, unfazed by the sand moving around him. He looks down at the three men in the distance.
"Every step." He says to himself "I will be watching."
He tightens his jaw as he watches the men climb higher up the sand dune.
"You will NEVER replace me." He says through gritted teeth.
His eyes continue to focus on the three men, getting closer to the top of the piled up wind swept sand, every step pulling them closer to the thing they want to see so badly. The watcher continues to speak to himself.
"Do you really think it will all be that easy?" He says with arrogance "That three unworthy people can climb to the top with ease and replace something that has worked for a long time? Do you think that it would be so simple."
The watcher shakes his head and raises his hands pointing them at the three men as they finally reach the top of the sand dune, the sand around them starts to spin violently, throwing itself in to the faces of the three men, engulfing them in a sand storm, forcing them to fall over the dune, much to the watchers delight. He clasps his hands together in joy, causing the sand to stop and give him the opportunity to watch the men fall down the dune, rolling in the sand.
"And they all fall down." He says with a smile.
The camera moves back to the three men, trying to dig in to the sand and stop their downward spiral. The three men come to a thudding holt at the bottom of the sand dune as the ground starts to even out slightly. The leader sits up first, wiping the sand from his face and eyes as he breathes hard, spitting the sand from his dry lips. His blurry eyes look around for his companions.
"Is everyone ok?" He calls out.
"Yeah." The man with the tattoos says with a cough, blowing the sand from his mouth.
"What the hell happened there?" The German sounding man yells out. "That wasn't normal."
"This place is cursed." The tattooed man adds. "Why do you even want this so bad?"
The leader pulls himself to his feet, dusting the sand from his body and moving towards the man with the German accent, reaching a strong hand down and pulling him to his feet. He turns towards the other man, the heavy backpack lying a few feet away from him, reaching his hand down and pulling him up by the tattooed arm.
"Because it's my destiny." He tells the tattooed man passionately "It's always been my destiny to step up and take my rightful place on that throne and wear that crown. It's my fate to do this."
The tattooed man dusts himself off, knocking the sand from his body and looks towards the third man, before his eyes return to the leader.
"And why the hell are we here?" He asks the leader.
"Because..." He says.
Before he can continue, his attention is distracted by the third man.
"Holy shit..." He says trailing off
The other men look towards him, and follow his pointing arm, their eye line eventually showing what he is pointing at. A tall building, wider at the bottom and moving up in pyramid fashion sits before them, made from solid looking gold. Symbols of various things adorn the outside of the building.
"That's it!" The leader says with pride booming through his voice "We've found it!"
He clenches his fists with excitement, lifting his heavy legs from the sand and patting his two friends on the back, pride streaming through his body as he moves towards the front of the gold building. A smile passes the watchers face as he looks down on the three men.
"Pride comes before a fall." He says to himself.
He watches the tattooed man pick up the heavy bag and the three men regroup, moving towards the front and to a narrow opening. The three men closely inspect the building, looking at it up and down, a sign etched in gold with 7DS just above the narrow opening. The leaders eyes smile brightly as he pulls the bandana from his face, his lips matching the wide smile of his eyes. He looks back at the two men either side of him and points to the narrow opening, getting weary looks in return.
"We've come this far." He tells them "For a long time, this is to the point where we wanted to be and now we're here, we can't turn back now."
The leaders two friends glance at each other, exchanging uneasy looks, before looking back at the leader, his head already poking through the narrow entrance. He lifts a leg through and squeezes his body through the narrow gap. The tattooed man slowly shakes his head as he pushes the heavy backpack through the gap and in to the leaders hands, before making his own journey through the gap. The German accented man follows suit, forcing a leg through the narrow gap and pressing his body through, barely making it through. The light breaks through the gap, just showing enough light to see the leader rustling through the back, pulling out and switching on bright beamed flashlights and handing the first to the tattooed man, and the second to the balding man. He reaches for a third and switches the light on, the combined light of the three powerful flashlights light up the room, showing strange symbols around them. Pictures of warriors with spears carved in to the gold walls face the men, standing at over six feet high. The trio shine their lights around, examining more.
"This is insane." The tattooed man exclaims.
"It's beautiful." The leader starts "This is where I'm destined to be. I can feel it."
The German sounding man flashes his light away from the others, pointing it down a narrow hallway. He starts to wander off towards the end of it.
"There's a door." He calls back to the others.
The two men quickly move down to the German sounding man and admire the outline of a solid gold door, two hand prints on the front of it. Letters etched in gold spell out the words "The point of no return". The three men look around each other as the tattooed man tries to push at the door, unable to move it an inch. The leader lifts his hands and places them on the hand prints on the door and pushes against them, the sounds of grinding gears are heard behind them. The door clicks open and swings around, opening up in to another room, but the floor starts to shake, before opening up trap doors beneath the feet of the tattooed man, and German sounding man, the ground swallowing them up before either has a chance to react. The leader quickly springs through the door, throwing himself to the ground as the door slams viciously behind him. The room immediate lights up, showing marbled floor and red carpet, leading to a jewel encrusted gold throne. Golden swords cross behind the throne, holding up what looks to be a gold title belt across it.
"It's..."
The lights flash out and instantly, the man who was watching the trio of men, appears on the throne in front of him. The leader jumps back in surprise at the sudden appearance. The watcher slowly shakes his head.
"Hello Andrew." He starts "I've been expecting you for a while now."
The man springs to his feet.
"How did you know my..." He starts.
The watcher puts his hand up, stopping the now identified man.
Come on.... even the stupidest of you must have known who was who!
"My name is Gabriel." He says "But you already knew that. You've been hunting my throne for a while, but this is a lesson for you."
The speechless man stands looking at Gabriel
"All this, is to teach you something very important." He starts "This whole trek you did, fighting the elements, pushing yourself further than ever before, leading men across rough terrain, just to get what you want, is credible. You've worked to be here and over come a lot to do so, but the journey is meaningless, the point of pushing yourself above and beyond is futile. Getting here is only half the battle, being in the same room as what you want, doesn't mean that you will take it."
He stands from the throne.
"Just because this is what you want." He says pointing at the golden seat "Doesn't mean I will ever allow you to put yourself upon it. It doesn't mean I will allow you to walk in to my domain and take what doesn't belong to you like a common thief."
Gabriel's eyes glow red as he stares at the man.
"I will not let you take my place as ruler of this kingdom." He says loudly "No matter what the journey you've been on, no matter what you've over come to just be standing in my presence!"
The room begins to shake as Gabriel's eyes start to burn up, flames dancing around his pupils as he looks at the man with an intensive look on his face. Gabriel reaches behind him, pulling the sword from the throne, ripping it off with one quick movement. The floor starts to sink, quickly turning to quicksand under the man's feet and pulling him down in to the ground, freezing him in to place.
"Many serpents have tried and each have failed." Gabriel says walking around the man "And just like lore says, to defeat the serpents who try to attack, you must remove their heads. Take one last good look at my throne young man, because where you are is the closest you will ever come to replacing me, you are the closest you will ever come to sitting where I belong."
Gabriel positions himself behind the man, glaring thoughtfully at the golden masterpiece.
"For this belongs to me, the throne, the status that comes with it, being on top of the mountain, it's mine." He says "And will always be mine, you will just become another who has tried and failed in their quest to dethrone me. Fear not young man, you will not be the last."
Gabriel swings the sword and the scene switches to Gabriel laying in bed, smiling.
Dreams do come true and this one will. Sorry Andrew, this uprising of yours will fail in spectacular fashion
The scene fades out.
Walking through the lobby of the Sheraton Casablanca Hotel and Towers in Casablanca, Morocco. The eyes of admiring glares are cast my way as I stroll through, bottle of water in my hand. I look around at the people around me, before exiting through a side door nearby. The beautiful Moroccan sun burns down on my topless skin within seconds of leaving the shade of the hotel. Beautiful palm trees fill my view as they line the poolside area, softly moving in the cool breeze. A toddler runs past me, knocking in to my leg as he stumbles on his way. The toddlers young mother quickly moves towards me, taking the toddler by the hand.
"I'm so sorry about that." She says apologetically.
"No problem." I quickly reply
"You know how kids are." She tells me "Always running around, bumping in to people, falling over."
"Actually I don't." I tell the woman "Well, not yet anyway."
"Oh..." The woman says quietly.
"My wife is due next week." I tell the woman. "So I have no clue how kids can be."
That is the moment where it actually hit me. I really don't have a damn clue how kids can be. It's not like I have a whole wealth of experience with kids. It's not like I have been around kids all my life or had young relatives.... shit, I actually know nothing about kids and I could be a dad any time now
My eyes blink rapidly as that realization covers my body.
"Oh that's great." The woman says with a bright smile "Parenthood is great if you don't mind the waking up at all hours. Is your wife here?"
I quickly shake my head.
"No." I start "She's in England. I travel a lot for work. I'm a wrestler, and we're here doing a show, she couldn't fly so she's in England with a friend and I'll be on the first plane back on Sunday."
"Oh right..." She says, her interest fading in the conversation as much as mine was "Well, I better get going. Best wishes to you and your wife."
I nod politely and walk away, moving down the edge of the pool, turning to see a woman changing a baby on a sun lounger. I shake my head slowly and continue to walk, watching another mother yelling at her fighting children.
"I need a drink." I tell myself.
I look at the bottle of water in my hand and shake my head.
"Something stronger than that." I mutter.
My head looks up, looking towards the bar at the end of the pool as two teenage boys charge past me, right across my path, stopping me in my tracks. I slowly shake my head as I start on my journey to the bar.
"Gabriel!" Despayre calls out.
My head turns around, looking at Despayre at poolside, standing next to the water. I move towards Despayre, a few feet away from him.
"Hey Despy." I start "Not hunting some mystical Moroccan creature today?"
Despayre casually shakes his head at me.
"Not today." he tells me "Having a day off from doing that. Thought I'd go for a swim instead."
"Not a bad idea." I tell Despayre "I mean all that monster hunting can get really tiring sometimes."
I nod at Despayre in agreement, a slight smile breaking over my face.
"Have you seen Synn?" I ask "I need some advice."
Despayre points his thumb towards the bar area.
"He's over there with Angel." Despayre informs me "If you want some good advice, you should ask Angel. He's so much better than Dad with advice."
"Thanks Despy." I say patting him on the back.
"Not a problem." He tells me "But can you do me a favor and not do a water trick while I'm swimming. I don't wanna be swimming along and end up on the top of a water tornado."
"I promise no water tornados today. You can swim in peace." I respond
"Thank you." Despayre says brightly. "CANNONBALL!"
Despayre jumps in the air, grabbing his legs and crashing in to the water, causing waves to smash the side of the pool and causing a big spray to bounce out of the pool and in to the air. I turn to walk away from the poolside and continue to walk towards the bar. I spy Synn sitting at the end of the bar, with Angel, dressed in bright shorts and sunglasses, resting on the bar. I move through the crowd, moving in to the bar area and make a beeline towards him, before sliding in to the seat next to him. Synn glances towards me with a casual look, before complete recognizing who I am and spinning in his bolted down, yet spinning seat, his fingers gripped around a glass of scotch.
"Gabriel..." Synn says
"Synn..." I reply "Scotch in this heat?"
"Scotch in any heat" Synn replies.
I raise a hand to the barman who quickly pulls a glass under a nearby beer tap, pulling it down and filling a glass with cold beer. After a few seconds, he places the glass in front of me. I reach down and pick up the glass, drinking half of the contents in one breath.
"Looks like you needed that." Synn comments.
"You don't know the half of it." I start "Seriously, what's the deal with all these damn kids around here?"
Synn spins in his chair, surveying the scene before turning back towards me.
"What kids?" He asks curiously.
I spin in my chair, looking around at the scene, seeing no children, babies or young adults in my line of sight.
"Hmmmm" I mutter as I spin back around.
Synn looks at me with a raised eyebrow and tilted head, a slight look of concern on his face.
"Are you feeling ok?" He asks me.
"No." I start "I'm tired as hell, and walking over here, I saw so many annoying little brats that no parent could be proud of and then it hit me. I know fuck all about kids and I'm less than a week away from becoming a dad! Odette is ready to drop at any time and I'm sitting in the sunshine nowhere near her, finally seeing that I am gonna be an awful father."
Synn slowly shakes his head as I drop my eyes to face the bar, staring in to the beer in front of me.
"Don't be stupid!" Synn barks "What would ever give you that idea?"
I take a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.
"Because I never had anyone showing me how to be a dad." I sadly admit "All I've done is read books about it, but that ain't shit compared to actually doing it. Hell, I can read books on brain surgery, doesn't mean I can pick up a scalpel and start digging away in someone's head. The parents I saw today couldn't control a pen around paper to write their own names and they've probably been with their kids constantly, around their other halves all the time to learn together. I've been away from my wife more than I've been with her lately."
"Do you think I knew how to be a dad?" Synn says firmly "I never got a chance to be a dad until recently and I've been one for years."
"Yeah, but your kid won't be wetting the bed for you to deal with." I say pointing behind me in the general area of Despayre.
"But I would have loved to have had the chance." Synn tells me "I would have loved to have been able to do all that stuff but I never got the chance to do it. You have the chance and you will do it."
Synn raises his glass and continues
"Look at this as a challenge, a challenge to mold someone in your image." He tells me "You've never backed away from a challenge before and you won't now. Besides, being a parent is about being a role model for them to look up to. You're a success, you're a champion, you've succeeded at everything you've done, that's a lot to look up to, to be proud of. The rest of the stuff is just going to be easy stuff. It's not like you're the first pro wrestler to be a father. There's so many parents in SCW, they could make money off of opening a daycare center."
I run my hands over my chin, listening to every word Synn says to me.
"Besides, it's not like you're gonna be alone in this." Synn tells me "Your wife has a big enough family, and you have us, The Sins, we're your family."
"I know" I say "but I just don't know how I'm gonna be able to do that and be traveling the world, kicking peoples arses and leading the company."
"Are you trying to say that you're done after this match?" Synn asks "Just give up the title to someone who doesn't deserve it?"
My head snaps around to look at Synn.
"Fuck no!" I firmly say "I have no intention of losing this title to Andrew Watts, I have no intention of that at all. I plan on beating him to put an end to this Reject uprising bullshit. It goes beyond just me against him. Him and his little group are trying to take our spot as best group in SCW and I am not gonna sit back and let that happen."
I pause for a few seconds, curling the left side of my lip downwards with a frown.
"I just don't know how to be on this tour and be a dad." I comment "I can't ask O to bring the baby on the road all the time. Gonna be enough sleepless nights without having to drive or fly across from country to country with a new born"
"It's simple." The voice of Despayre says from behind us, causing Synn and I to spin around on our seats "You leave here right after you kick Andrew Watts butt, you go to Odette, then you fly in for shows on the day of the show and you leave right after the shows and we can all come with you and baby Joshua doesn't have to travel."
"Baby Joshua?" I say with a raised eyebrow.
"It's a good name that you should give your baby." Despayre says "I've never met a bad guy called Joshua."
A smile creeps on to my face as I look at Despayre.
"You know, that idea might work." I state "Well, most of it anyway. Fly in, cause hell, and leave and if I don't feel like it, pull off the classic Watts video link thing. That was a good idea Despy."
"Oh that was Angel's idea." Despayre says casually "I told you he gives better advice than Dad."
Synn fires his son a look as Despayre takes the seat to my left hand side. Synn shrugs his wide shoulders.
"That bear does seem to have good ideas." He says slowly "And thanks to that good idea, you can just focus on Watts and retaining that title belt of yours."
A confident look crosses my face as I smirk at Synn.
"Oh I don't need to focus on that." I start "Watts is already a beaten man and even the title knows it's coming home with me. The only person who doesn't know that is Watts. Era of Watts my arse."
"Swear jar!" Despayre yells out.
The camera fades as I reach in to my pocket and hand Despayre a bank note.
As you can see my point, it never rains, but it pours when it comes to family life and work, but now let's talk all business and there's only one thing left to talk about when it comes down to business and that is the man who think's he is the next chosen one, the man who feels it's his time.
The man called Andrew Watts...
How's it feeling right now to be swimming in all that confidence right now, Andrew? I bet it feels pretty damn good doesn't it?
Bet you feel like you're on top of the world right now and that nothing can go wrong, right? Probably the same feeling two warriors set to battle on Saturday in the forms of Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao are thinking too, but one of them will lose.
This is a feeling you can relate with them come Sunday, because all the confidence in the world doesn't promise you a thing. Like one of those two men, the confidence will be shattered and the fact that you will never be able to call yourself the greatest of all time will be just like one of those two.
Last time we met, you had an excuse, you had Amy Marshall to blame and god knows I tried to help her out, I tried to give her advice so that you actually stood a chance because I am so sick of excuses. I had to put up with Sean Jackson's excuses for months and I didn't want the same from you, so I tried to get Amy to perform better than she does bending over at her other job but even as a magician, I can not perform miracles but I tried to help you to stop you expected excuses, but no doubt, you've made those excuses over and over to everyone that Amy was to blame for your loss.
She didn't help you much, I admit that but you can't use it as an excuse Andrew.
Why?
Because you had every opportunity to prove to the world that you were actually better than I was, by beating me before Amy could get her slutty arse back in the ring, but you failed to take that chance. Let's put aside how shit the match was, and looking back, it was not one of the greatest spectacles on earth, but you had every chance to beat me, to step right up and take advantage, but you failed miserably and had to live with people looking at you differently.
I haven't...
I truly haven't because let's be fair, you was handicapped in that match against me by having Amy Marshall, and teaming with Misty to rack up that impressive run, well she could carry an elephant to victory if need be, so I don't look at you as any different as I did before I got in the ring with you. You're still a man capable of beating people, you're still a man that has the shock value out of nowhere endings, but there's also that side of you that I see that hasn't been mentioned by me, or anyone else.
Are you championship material?
I mean as a leader of a group, you're meant to show that YOU can lead from the front, not that your followers have more success than you. I have never once claimed to be the leader of the Seven Deadly Sins, and gold has been spread evenly around that group over the years, but it's pretty obvious that you are the leader of the Rejects, you made the call to put them together, with Kaelin as your lieutenant, you made the call to change the line up and ditch Stephens for Raab, which seems successful, you made the choice to ditch Mikah for Desiree Parker, which seems much less successful, but you as a leader have made these calls and got half of them right, but here's the thing. Kaelin walked in and won the Roulette title pretty easy, Kaelin walked in and fucked shit up when it came to opponents, no one could stop him except... Lord Raab.
Lord Raab... he's one of your own...
Now Raab came in to the Rejects and became the only man to beat Kaelin, two Reject champions, two, not one but two...
And neither of them are you Andrew...
The leader, the general, the man who directs the group has never had a championship, while his foot solider's have... I also think that shoulder Desiree put herself forward more, only a matter of time before she becomes a champion and that will be before you too. Your group is loaded with Championship material people, but the question will remain...
Are you one of them?
You could be if you set your sights a little lower, like maybe Halc's Internet Title, or the tag team championships maybe, but are you good enough to take my title from me?
No.... Just no...
You have impressed on more than a few occasions but are you ready to wear the big boy crown? Are you ready to take responsibility to lead a company I helped to build, in to the future and beyond? No Andrew, your time may come in the future but this is not your time now, this is all about me.
Wanna hear something that you don't know? Well, maybe you do know but you haven't been able to process it past your ego.
People don't actually want you to win...
You know you always get the kiss arse fans who tell you to kick your opponents arse, just to keep on your good side? We all get those, right? But these Andrew, these are people coming up to me and telling me to not let you near my title, because they don't want to see this so called Andrew Watts Era. Now these people wouldn't usually piss on me if I was on fire, but people don't wanna see you win. Maybe they see that you're not ready, maybe they see that you will be the death of SCW. People know that what you will bring to the table is the Andrew Watts hype show week in, week out and people like me keep it interesting. They never know what to expect from me, but maybe these people who have to pay to keep you in a job see you as a one trick pony.
Just another egotistical bastard that they've seen before...
That's what they may see when it comes to you Andrew and that's why they don't wanna see it again, maybe they don't wanna see more generic bullshit that every cocky wrestler in the world pulls off when they win the title.
"I'm the greatest, I have the title, no one can stop me..."
Blah, blah, blah, shut the fuck up!
Generic bullshit with no creative spark and the people see this. The people want to see me save them from the things they are already expecting from you, people want to be saved before you even get the chance to mind melt them with over player, worn out lines. These people are already expecting that from you, so they will drop to their knees and pray to the Gods above, or sell their souls to the devil himself for even a little hope that you will end up nowhere near my title.
Without kissing arse like Drake Green, I like to give the people what they want...
This is gonna be no different for they will get what they want Andrew, they will get a champion that doesn't bore the hell out of them, they will get to see me stay on the throne that I have made my very own for a long time. I will not be bowing down to you and the Era of Andrew Watts will be a long way from starting. It's long in to the distance where no one can see.
This is not your time Andrew, this will never be your time, Mayhem in Morocco will not be a night you will want to remember, it will be a night where you are shown for what you truly are. You will never get near my title for as long as I can breathe, you will not get near my title for as long as there's a beat in my darkened heart.
Hell would have to freeze over before you take what's mine from me, every pig in the damn world would have to sprout wings and fly around before you get the chance to raise my SCW World Heavyweight championship belt above your head and claim it as your own. Zombie's would have to walk the face of the earth and eat innocent flesh before I will ever lay down for you.
Think I'm determined much?
Fuck yeah I am. Wanna know why Andrew? Because you coast. You come here and just do enough, you do nothing more than that and you think you would be a worthy champion, you think you coasting through SCW makes you the man to lead a company I have spent years building?
Not a chance...
I refuse to let you rip at the seams of something I have spent time building, I refuse to let you pull it down with your bare hands by being a half arsed leader of SCW, I refuse to let you take something I molded and stomp all over it because that is exactly what you will do as SCW World Heavyweight champion. You will take a sledgehammer to all I've done to put SCW on the map, and everyone who buys a ticket, orders the show, or illegally streams or downloads the show, will be my witnesses as I defend my castle, from ego's and rejects.
I will defend to my dying breath to keep my title Andrew, and keep it I shall, because I will be leaving my heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears in that ring on Sunday night, but I will be walking away with my title.
How do you feel now Andrew? Knowing you've lit this fire in me to stop you from realizing your dream and going through with what you feel is your destiny, that you feel is your fate.
I will stop you, cause even fate can be a crock of shit sometimes.
I've got nothing really left to say to you Andrew, nothing at all, the rest of my talking will be done in the ring at Mayhem in Morocco.
May God have mercy on your soul Andrew Watts...
Cause I will not....
