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Messages - Peter Vaughn

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21
Climax Control Archives / What Does The Future Hold? Dates & Deadlines...
« on: November 24, 2023, 11:10:49 PM »
~As the picture slowly comes into focus, we find ourselves making the journey through the Garden of Betrayal, an open-air conservatory that Peter Vaughn built earlier this year. It's seen better days, as temperatures in Dallas have gotten below freezing, which means many of the roses have started to wilt away. They're going into hibernation, hopefully to return once the spring thaws out the ground. The cameraman, unfortunately, is not as lucky, as he's grumbling in the cold as he moves along the path.

Cameraman: Why come back here today? Couldn't we have met somewhere warm, like another restaurant or maybe a house with a fireplace? Hell, I'd even take going inside that death-trap next store... well, no, not that one, I'm never going back in there...

~The camera shakes for a moment, and not from the cold. The last time we saw this cameraman filming, it was when Vaughn fell through a weak spot in the roof of the multi-story building next to the Garden. Fortunately for Vaughn, he only suffered some bumps and bruises, coming through it like any other wrestling match. But the cameraman has no interest in being the next accident victim there. He comes around the corner of the "maze" of flowers, and comes to a stop as he sees the center pavilion ahead... covered in some sort of plastic.~

Cameraman: What the heck is this?? Damn it, did he send me to the wrong place again??

~The camera moves awkwardly, as the cameraman presumably works to get his cell phone out. We hear him dialing, followed by an answering ring... from inside the plastic-wrapped pavilion.~

Cameraman: What the...

Peter Vaughn: Hello?

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, hey, camera-dude. Good to hear from you. Are you on your way in? I'm ready for you.

Cameraman: I... I don't understand... how do I... where's the entrance?

Peter Vaughn: To the Garden? You've been here several times...

Cameraman: No, not the...

Peter Vaughn: Hold on, I'm getting a serious echo effect... oh, wait...

~One side of the plastic suddenly moves to the side, as Vaughn pokes his way out. He takes in the cameraman, grinning, before hanging up the phone.~

Peter Vaughn: Tricky there, boyo. Come on inside.

~Speechless, the cameraman steps forward, finally noting the small seam that was built in to create a 'door' inside the pavilion. Inside, it appears 10 times warmer, thanks to an industrial heater running off to the side. On the center picnic table, there are two cloches covering plates on either side. Confused, the cameraman steps up, but Vaughn stops him.~

Peter Vaughn: Nah, put the camera over there on the stand. You can't eat with your hands full.

~Still quiet, the cameraman does as he was asked, and soon both men are sitting in front of us, with Vaughn waving to the cloche in front of the man.~

Peter Vaughn: It's on an electric warming plate, but feel free to dig in.

~The cameraman reaches out, pulling the cloche carefully, as if expecting an explosion. But all that's underneath is a Thanksgiving-styled meal, including turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. He looks up at Vaughn, who shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: I had some leftovers from earlier.

~The cameraman doesn't seem to mind, as he starts digging into the meal with the utensils provided. At the same time, Vaughn turns and faces the camera on the stand.~

Peter Vaughn: So now it's all in the record books. The SCW Roulette Championship will now be locked in as the belt of Peter Vaughn. We're past 200 days now of me being the champ, and that's just going to continue until I find the right man worthy enough to hold this title and keep the belt pristine. Now, some would say that a guy like Alexander Raven is more than worthy...

~Vaughn seems to think to himself for a few seconds, and then shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: They're probably right. But Raven's got his sights set on that Heavyweight Championship right now, so he doesn't even care about taking me on for the gold. I respect that. He would be a horrible choice as the next Roulette Champion, because he would see it as a downgrade, no matter how ridiculous that assumption would be. I mean, I made this belt one of the most treasured titles in the world, and he should respect that. But he wouldn't, so I have no problems just keeping this one a non-title match.

~The cameraman just silently nods, as he sticks another piece of turkey into his mouth. This is better than anything he could have expected.~

Peter Vaughn: But it still is in my best interest to not back down against Alexis at all. I need him to feel like he's had the fight of his life... before he gets to have the fight of his life with J2H. Honestly, it's terrible booking for the man, because how's he going to manage being 100 percent against one of the toughest guys in Sin City when he's got to go to war with me first? And sure, there won't be any unique Roulette twists, but that doesn't mean that he will get through this match unscathed. Accidents happen... you know?

~With that, Vaughn steps forward and removes the second cloche. Unlike the cameraman's plate, this one doesn't contain any food. Instead, we see a variety of objects. An exposed turnbuckle. A metal pipe, usually found inside a guardrail. A piece of rebar, possibly from the edge of a ring. A timekeeper's bell. The cameraman, surprised, stares at the items, before continuing to eat, not wanting to waste the food.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, Alex, even in a regular match... there are some serious dangers. Items that may look harmless or part of the scenery, but can still be used without a threat of disqualification. Okay, the ring bell is a stretch... but you see what I mean, right, boyo? Are you content with the fact that you're risking your chance to win the Heavyweight Title at December 2 Dismember V for a match that will likely only end one way? I mean, I don't think your full heart is going to be in it, because you have so much to lose...

~With that, Vaughn picks up the metal pipe, studying it.~

Peter Vaughn: But me, Alexander? I already got my record. I've already done what I set out to do. Which means that I have absolutely nothing to lose in this one... which gives me everything to gain.

~Vaughn smirks, before slamming the pipe down on the table. It rattles everything, causing the cameraman to jump. Vaughn glances over at him, then drops the pipe back on the plate.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry. Got a little carried away. Enjoy the rest of your meal, and I'll see you next time. Turn off the heater before you leave, okay?

~With a quick nod, Vaughn heads out the plastic screen, which seals up behind him thanks to a conveniently placed piece of Velcro. The cameraman reaches over and takes a drink from the nearby cup, sighing in satisfaction. After a second or two, though, he slowly looks to the right, at the large heater nearby... a type of heater that he's never seen before.~

Cameraman: Uh... wait... Mr. Vaughn? Mr. Vaughn, I don't know how to turn this off...

~The cameraman hurries out of the pavilion, moving to try and catch up to Vaughn, as the camera keeps recording the empty room. What, did you expect a slow zoom in or something? It's not magic, people, someone has to be there behind the lens. It can be edited, though, as we see the shot cut off, taking us to a black screen.~


~The shot comes back in as we find ourselves in a small shopping mall somewhere in Dallas. Inside, the Black Friday sales are going, as small groups move around, filling up their carts with any deals that they can find. One such couple is moving along now, checking out the sales, although the guy doesn't seem too impressed.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously? A vacuum cleaner for $20 off? That's what constitutes a Black Friday sale nowadays? No wonder this place is basically dead.

~Vaughn looks around, still disappointed, as his recently-made fiancé, Sadie Anderson, steps up next to him and laughs.~

Sadie Anderson: You're such a cynic at times, you know that, Peter?

Peter Vaughn: I can't help it. I remember when the deals were so good, you had to fight off the crowds and win the war to grab the limited item that was 80-90% off. The blood, the violence, the conquest... those were damn good times. Now, look at this place? It's the most empty I've ever seen a store on Black Friday, and it's because nobody has the money for these crappy deals.

~To signify his point, Vaughn waves at another stand set off, offering a set of luxury towels for $4. The towels don't look particularly impressive, but without feeling the fabric, you can't really be sure it's not a deal, I suppose.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, at least we came out to look around. You never know when a sale like this will pay off. You know, we still need to make a wedding registry, so people can start thinking about what they need to bring to the reception.

Peter Vaughn: People actually do that? I thought it was only for a baby shower...

Sadie Anderson: Well, THAT possibility is still in the future...

[ ~Sadie blushes slightly, but Vaughn doesn't seem to see it. He's already stepping to the right, picking up a set of steak knives.~

Peter Vaughn: Twenty bucks? ... That's not terrible... but we don't need them.

~Vaughn puts them back, turning around to see Sadie standing in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: What? Did you want them? I can get them...

Sadie Anderson: It's not that, Peter, it's just that... at some point, we're going to have to talk about some details, aren't we?

Peter Vaughn: Details? Like steak knives?

Sadie Anderson: Like, for instance, when is our wedding going to be? You proposed to me, I said yes... and you haven't even talked to me about a date yet. Don't you think it's important for us to start working on that?

~Vaughn thinks about that for a few moments, moving to the side as another cluster of people move through. One of them grabs the steak knives, walking off with them, but Vaughn doesn't notice.~

Peter Vaughn: I have to confess, I wasn't that worried about it, really, Sadie.

Sadie Anderson: Not worried? Really??

Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean, I know we'd have to plan it for a time when I don't have a wrestling match scheduled in SCW, TPW, WGWF, or anywhere else. Although I know they do some weddings inside a ring, but that always seems to ask for trouble, and you don't need that. Then we'd have to plan it for a time when you and I could both get away from the ranch for a bit. I know the next season's coming in quickly, we'd have to train some people up. Then again, our staff is already pretty damn good, aren't they?

Sadie Anderson: Yes, but they, too, might want to come, you know?

Peter Vaughn: Eh, they wouldn't have to. I'm not going to be that kind of ranch boss and force it.

Sadie Anderson: And what about our family's schedule?

~A slightly darker shadow crosses Vaughn's face for a moment, but he shakes it away.~

Peter Vaughn: I mean, your family, certainly. My dad's gone, and my mom... well, there's always Thomas, I suppose.

Sadie Anderson: Of course your half-brother will be there.

~Sadie shakes her head as Vaughn moves further to the side, looking at another box, which apparently contains Black Friday pillows. Pillows. That's just awful.~

Sadie Anderson: I don't mean to put you on the spot...

Peter Vaughn: How about tomorrow?

Sadie Anderson: ... What?

Peter Vaughn: It's before my match at Climax Control. All of the staff is still around for the weekend. Even Thomas is hanging out with that new girlfriend of his, along with his kid. I know a minister or two, they'd probably be willing to do it, and then we can...

Sadie Anderson: No, Peter!

~Sadie's suddenly sharp tone catches Vaughn's attention, as he turns back to her, surprised. She looks upset, shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: I'm not marrying you tomorrow... not that fast! Not that... casually!!

~With a deep, painful sigh, Sadie turns and walks away, as Vaughn watches her go, looking completely bewildered.~

Peter Vaughn: But you said to pick a date!

~As Sadie disappears down another aisle, Vaughn takes a few steps forward, still not sure what to do. He looks back at the pillow stand, then suddenly lashes out, punching the top pillow. It goes flying several feet away, disappearing behind some clothes, as a shout rings out.~

Voice: Hey! Who threw... oh, wow, a pillow, I really needed one of those. Thanks!

~Vaughn doesn't respond, as he's already moving after Sadie now, trying to figure out what to do.~


There are still plenty of things in this world I don't understand.

Why do we call a package going by car a shipment, while a package going by ship is called cargo?

Why do the security guards at the airports always want to search me when I'm on my way to another match?

Why is Bill Barnhart still employed?

Yep, there are lots of questions I have, but the #1 question for me right now is what do the Sin City Bookers have against Alexander Raven?

They've really put you in a bind, Rave. I mean, c'mon, it's clear that you're going to be distracted in our match-up. They've even got J2H watching you face off against me from ringside. You think that you're going to be able to keep yourself 100% focused on The Mechanic with that kind of threat RIGHT THERE in your face? And if you want to be able to beat someone like me in a singles match, you definitely need to be 100 percent.

I'm thinking you'll be around 75%, and I may be feeling a little generous on that.

Now, don't get me wrong. A Raven at 75 percent is certainly still dangerous. You may be down a wing, but that still leaves the claws and that big beak of yours. Sorry, but your nose is a well-known danger to every wrestler, that's just a fact. But I don't care about J2H hanging out there. I'm not looking to impress anyone, or make any kind of statement. I've never had to do that before, and I'm sure as hell not going to start now.

People learn to respect me whether they want to or not. I don't need to force anything.

All it's going to take, Lex, is for you to turn your eyes towards J2H at the wrong second. You notice him, think about him, remember how you've got to somehow fight through that buzzsaw that tore you up at the last PPV... and in that instant, you're going to be vulnerable, and I'm going to strike. You know Revenged can come at any time, from virtually any direction. One second, my friend... one second.

One second before you find yourself waking up and realizing that you've lost it all.

I've known a lot of wrestlers that have described the sensation of the Revenged to me after the fact. It basically goes from you having all the faith in the world that you're still in the contest, to instantly coming to and asking the referee what happened. It's funny that the Plunge and the Keyholder both are dangerous maneuvers, but it's Revenged that really seems to be the most... painless. Still, it does the job, as you'll soon find out, boyo.

I wonder if that doubt is already starting to creep its way into your subconscious. That thought that, once you taste defeat at my hands (or feet, as the case may be), the fans will lose faith that you're a worthy main eventer to go for the World Title? Well, feel free to stuff that doubt down and crush it. You don't need to think that way. I honestly believe you're definitely a worthy contender for the belt. You're going to be one of the best wrestlers I've faced here in Sin City singles, I believe. I mean, who rates near you? Jack Washington, maybe?

I'm 2-1 now against him, by the way.

And losing to me would be no crown of dishonor to be worn. I've beaten many of the best in the business, and their careers have continued straight forward... well, most of them. I know, some people will bring up Caedus or Marshall, but those were different. I truly don't believe your career will go into the gutter by getting Plunged by me. I have no reason to ground another Raven, like I have James and Matthew.

I'm sure you know who I'm talking about. They're "famous", right?

The point is, Al, there's no shame in what's to come. There's no embarrassment. I think it's going to be an incredible contest, and while I'm fairly confident that I'm going to come out on top, you really shouldn't let it decide your fate. It's nothing that should really send that treacherous, doubting worm burrowing into your self-confidence, tearing it apart from within and leading you to have the most god-awful match ever seen in a main event of an SCW PPV.

You won't let that happen, Alex? Right? Because I certainly wouldn't want to be sitting there at the arena, having dispensed with Lyons once again, and seeing it happen. I wouldn't have a box of popcorn sitting with me, either, enjoying the entire moment. I definitely wouldn't be cheering J2H on as he knocks you cold with Solid Gold.

Nope. Wouldn't be me.

I know it's hard to understand, Raven... but I do still want you to succeed. Just not this show. Not this match. Not this time.

And never against me.


~We rejoin Sadie Anderson as she's currently in the furniture department of the store. She is sitting on one of the model beds, thinking things through. Behind her, we can see Peter Vaughn approaching, apparently with a box of Christmas chocolates in his hands. He slowly comes around Sadie, making sure she looks at him, before he offers the chocolates.~

Peter Vaughn: Here you go. Ummm, apparently they're half off today only.

~Sadie can't help but smile at the gesture, as it's both somewhat ridiculous and somewhat completely sincere at the same time. She pats the side of the bed, and Vaughn takes a seat next to her.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm sorry that I suggested tomorrow. I just... I tend to think things through too 'logically' at times, I guess.

Sadie Anderson: That's okay, Peter. I may have overreacted...

~Sadie sighs, then turns herself to look at her fiancé with sincere eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: I just... I always dreamed of the perfect wedding, Peter. I'm sure a lot of ladies have at one time or another. It's the moment that most of us, if we're lucky, we'll only have one chance at. I don't want to just do something simple, like the justice of the peace or Las Vegas. I want an honest-to-goodness, large-scale wedding that will make all of my friends from school jealous.

Peter Vaughn: Well, then... I guess I'll have to give that to you.

Sadie Anderson: It's not about "giving it", Peter. We're doing it together. It's our event. It's OUR wedding.

Peter Vaughn: I know that. I just... you have to remember, Sadie, that while you grew up with a great family and saw the best of everyone... I didn't. I saw my family dissolve. I saw other families around me collapse due to cheating or neglect. Sometimes both. It's not like I've seen many strong relationships in wrestling, either. So for me... this is an extremely new concept, and I just never... expected I would be here.

~You can see on Vaughn's face that he's flashing back to when his mother deserted their family, followed by the collapses of so many couples around him... some of which he helped cause. He's not proud of those... but he's not disgusted by them, either. They're just... there. He leans back on the bed, staring upwards.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to be trying to learn a lot as we go along, Sadie. I'm just in completely untraveled territory for me. But with your help... we can reach that perfect wedding. Whatever it takes. Whoever I have to take down to get there.

~Sadie leans back with him, the two now facing upwards towards the store ceiling. She smiles.~

Sadie Anderson: I doubt you're going to have to beat up too many people to make this happen, Peter. But I appreciate your enthusiasm.

~The two smile at each other, although there's a hint of disappointment in Vaughn's eyes. But that's to be expected.~

Sadie Anderson: We're going to find the right date. We're going to find the right venue. And we're going to end up husband and wife, in a day that we'll remember for the rest of our lives.

Peter Vaughn: That sounds... pretty good to me.

~As Vaughn inches forward, looking for a kiss, there's a sudden clearing of the throat near them. Both sit up, sitting a younger man standing there, his arms crossed.~

Young Man: Sorry, but I already bought this one. Didn't you see the sticker?

~He points to the side, where there is, indeed, a "sold" sticker on the edge of the model bed. Both Vaughn and Sadie exchange a look.~

Peter Vaughn: You seriously bought the model bed? With so many of them packed up around here?

Young Man: They give the best discounts on those. We... don't have much money.

~Behind them, we can see a younger woman sitting there, looking tired but happy. The small baby in her arms is deep asleep, thankfully, soothed by the rocking motion of the mother. Sadie, seeing this, nudges Vaughn with her elbow. He looks at her, confused, and she nods towards them, before nodding towards one of the other beds here. Vaughn sighs.~

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, kid. This bed sucks. Get your money back. I'll buy you one of the more advanced models over there.

Young Man: You'll... you'll buy it for us? Why?

~Vaughn glances over at Sadie, who's still smiling brightly.~

Peter Vaughn: Because it's that time of the year, I guess. And also because those are the ones that are most discounted right now. Gotta make the right choices, you know?

~Vaughn gets up, with Sadie right beside him. They head over to the next section, signaling to the salesperson to come over, as the lucky family follows behind. We fade out.~


My life is definitely undergoing some changes at the moment.

Some would say those changes are long overdue.

Like, for instance, finally making my way upwards towards the Heavyweight Title division, where you've been for a while, haven't you, Reaver?  How many attempts at the brass ring have you had now? I'm personally too lazy to count. But you've never made it there, have you? You've had your runs in the Internet and Roulette Divisions, sure, but you've never been able to get over that hump here in Sin City. Why do you think that is? Are you just not good enough? Or has it just been bad luck and unfortunate choices?

Either way, I suppose that's something we both have in common. I've never worn the SCW Heavyweight Title, either. Now, bear in mind, I've never been GIVEN a shot at the Heavyweight Title, but that doesn't change the fact that this is the only fed I'm currently in where I've never been at the top.

Actually, in most of my feds, I've been there multiple times.

So one would ask, who, between us, is most deserving of that opportunity? And I'd say... well, you've already been given yet another chance, so who am I to take it away? But here's the thing, Alexanduh... if and when I defeat you on Sunday, I'd say that puts me pretty close to the top contendership in the land, doesn't it? Wouldn't that be something? Skipping the Internet Division entirely and going straight at the big dogs?

Many have said I should have been there already, never understanding why I've been taking my time. But what can I say? I've been enjoying myself. But now, maybe the dials have finally spun around to point me upwards, towards the greatness of the Sin City Heavyweight Title.

And hell, if I defeat you, and then you somehow cause J2H to slip in a puddle of sweat and roll him up for a 3 count, that would almost guarantee I'd be the one coming next for the belt, wouldn't it? But I think that's a pipe dream. I've seen J2H in person during a tag-team match, and let me tell you, Alex... you just don't feel like you're in the same league as him. So I'm pretty sure the Heavyweight strap is staying where it is.

But that doesn't mean I shouldn't still get some credit by out-wrestling you all over that ring.

I'm going to be bringing my absolute best into this contest, Allie. I'm going to be whaling on you with every single maneuver I can pull out of my bag of tricks, and believe me, as much as I've done here in Sin City, you haven't seen nearly my full repertoire. I've won eleven World Titles by being the best of the best. It's a phrase that I believe in fully. I always know that I can win any and all contests I enter into. I'm always a threat to dominate my opponents.

Not that I'm looking to dominate you. Because that just doesn't sound right.

But I'm definitely focused on bringing you to your knees... no, hang on, take three...

I'm going to pound your... hmmm...

Let's just say that I'm going to be victorious, okay, Gravy? I'm going to hit you with everything I've got, and maybe a little more besides. I'm going to show you, just like I've shown Kasey, Rodrigo, Lyons, Washington, and all the others who didn't think I could get past them. I'm going to make you believe the truth that I just am that much better than you.

And then you're going to experience a major change in your life, Raven.

You're going to take the Plunge.

It's a ride I bet you never forget... especially with J2H watching. Good luck to you, boyo. You're going to need it.


~We are now outside of the mall, where Vaughn and Sadie are walking along to their car. Nearby, we can see the young couple waving happily at them as they head to their beaten-down car, the delivery charges for their new bed already completed. Sadie waves back. Vaughn's too busy glancing into the bag he's carrying. As they reach Vaughn's beloved truck, Gabriella, Sadie smirks at him.~

Sadie Anderson: I still can't believe you bought the steak knives.

~Vaughn pops open the back storage area, popping the knives inside for safe keeping, before getting the truck unlocked for Sadie and getting in himself.~

Peter Vaughn: I know... I couldn't stop thinking about them. I mean, they WERE a great deal.

Sadie Anderson: And you also felt like you HAD to buy yourself something, just to make the trip not feel like a waste.

Peter Vaughn: There's that, too.

~The two look out the window, to where the sun is just beginning to rise over the horizon. It's a rather romantic look, not that Vaughn would ever see it that way.~

Sadie Anderson: I know we still have a lot to talk about. But we have all the time in the world, Peter. There's no rush. We'll get the details worked out.

Peter Vaughn: Or we can just hire a wedding planner to take care of all of that...

Sadie Anderson: Not a chance.

Peter Vaughn: I knew you were going to say that.

~Both laugh, as Vaughn starts up the engine and lets it rumble for a few seconds.~

Peter Vaughn: So want to go talk about some of those details over breakfast? Or is there another store you'd like to visit?

Sadie Anderson: I think I'm Black Friday'd out.

Peter Vaughn: Then pancakes it is.

Sadie Anderson: Don't forget, married couples share everything.

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to buy you your own plate of 'cakes, don't worry.

Sadie Anderson: That's not what I meant!!

~They drive off, with Vaughn still wanting to have individual pancake plates, while his fiancé is more interested in getting different orders and sharing between them. This couple has a long, long way to go. Pray for them. We fade out.~


22
Climax Control Archives / Close To The End - Life-Altering Choices
« on: November 03, 2023, 10:50:28 PM »
Huff... huff... huff...

~As we hear the sounds of heavy breathing, we quickly make sure that we're on the correct channel. Thankfully, we are, as the picture slowly gets lighted up to show the SCW cameraman making his way up several flights of stairs. Somehow, despite the heavy equipment, he keeps moving, finally reaching the top floor. The camera tilts over towards the carpet, as the cameraman works to control any urge to get sick from exertion.~

Cameraman: Never... again...

~We finally straighten up, looking around the offices, which are in various states of disrepair. It's clear we're back in the multi-story building that Peter Vaughn purchased next to his Garden of Betrayal. The cameraman takes a few steps to the side, seemingly leaning against a wall judging by the thunk we just heard.~

Cameraman: He says... to meet him here... so where... is he? I swear... if he calls... from the bottom floor...

~Suddenly, there's a dinging sound from behind the cameraman, catching his attention. He turns to the side, looking on in disbelief... as the elevator doors open. Peter Vaughn steps out, glancing to the right and smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there, friend. I heard from down below that you took the stairs to get up here. That's damn impressive, I have to admit. Respect!

~Vaughn puts out a fist, as if wanting a fist bump. It doesn't get returned, although Vaughn lets it hang there for way too long.~

Cameraman: You're... you're telling me... that the elevator is working?

Peter Vaughn: ... Well, of course! The elevator's always one of the first items on the list to get operational in a building like this. You think the construction workers want to keep lugging all their supplies up every floor, dozens of times a day?

~The camera slowly droops forward, forcing Vaughn to lean a little lower to stay in frame.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, man, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. But wasn't the exercise worth it?

Cameraman: No.

Peter Vaughn: ...

~After a few seconds of awkward silence, the cameraman sighs and gets the camera sitting correctly again.~

Cameraman: So why did you want to record on this floor?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, here? Nothing, really.

~A grumble can be heard, letting us know that violence is certainly a possibility. Vaughn, though, steps to the side, opening up a nearby door labeled "Roof Access".~

Peter Vaughn: I wanted to head up here, actually. C'mon, just a few more steps...

~Vaughn heads up, as another grumble followed by a bleep from the censors can be heard. The cameraman, though, has already done too much to stop now, so heheads after him. We can see multiple workers up there, prying up different parts of the warped roof, getting to the support beams underneath. We watch for a second, before focusing on Vaughn again, who is now standing with a leg up on the edge.~

Cameraman: Is this safe?

Peter Vaughn: What, you think I'd take you somewhere that's dangerous?

~The camera starts backing up towards the doorway again, with Vaughn putting out his arms.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait! Yes, it's safe. Totally safe. They're just working on replacing some sections. After all, with winter right around the corner, the roof becomes extremely important for the rest of the renovations we've got going on.

~With that, Vaughn turns and looks out at the view. The cameraman moves a little closer, allowing us to see that Vaughn is staring at his Garden of Betrayal. He seems to like the aerial view.~

Peter Vaughn: That place sure has come a long way since all of this started, hasn't it? Just like me. Here I sit, the SCW Roulette Champion for months and months, finally approaching the milestone that I've been seeking since May. At the next Climax Control, the reign will be at 183 days. That means that I'll have second place locked up, having moved past Bill Barnhart for the honor. Rather ironic, really. That just leaves one record left to beat: the 190-day record of Griffin Hawkins, the SCW Hall of Famer. It's right there, boyo. I can feel it. I can TASTE it.

~Vaughn then turns back to the camera, stepping back from the roof. Despite his speech, he doesn't look too pleased.~

Peter Vaughn: And that's why the higher-ups are throwing the biggest obstacles they could find against me.

~He shakes his head, beginning to pace on the uneven rooftop, as the cameraman follows him, intrigued.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't think anyone would say it's a coincidence that the one man who's won a singles match against me in Sin City, the ONE MAN who I can say beat me cleanly, was put into this match. To me, it's fairly obvious that the SCW execs made a power move to try and block me from my record. I will admit, it's a master stroke, booking former World Champion Jack Washington in this one. And then there's the guy who's record I will have beaten by the time of the show, Bill Barnhart. A multi-time champion in his own right. No, the deck has clearly been stacked against me.

~Vaughn can't stop moving, stepping back and forth, feeling energized at the thought of what's to come.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know if this is because I ruffled a few "old-school" feathers with my running for the record, or if someone genuinely believes that there needs to be a final test. But either way, if they think I'm just going to back down from this, they're completely mistaken. I have beaten every contender they've put into my path, some of them multiple times. I've survived the toughest of matches, and snapped down every danger to my reign, squashing all of their hopes and dreams to keep this championship. There's no possibility I'm going to let it end here, right before the finish line. I've put way too much on the line to allow for that to happen.

~Behind Vaughn, more hammering can be heard, as a new portion of the roof is getting rebuilt. Vaughn, though, pays no attention, as he continues to walk in circles, still thinking through everything that's happened.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't care that it's two of the "great" names of Sin City coming after me. It doesn't make a difference in how I'm going to fight. They could have brought back Griffin Hawkins or tagged back in Matthew Knox. They could have made it a Saviors Special and brought a war involving Hall of Famers Mac Bane and Goth. Whoever it was, I would be approaching this exactly the same way. Because it's not just about me anymore. It's about my promises. It's about my guarantees. And it's about my sacrifices.

~Vaughn turns away from the camera for a few steps, before twisting and stomping back towards it, raising a finger towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: If anything, this proves that I've been successful in making the Roulette Championship one of the most desired belts ever. They're coming out of the woodwork to go for it, and damn if I'm going to let them take it from me. I know they both want to be the one to say "I finally ended it", but they're going to be rendered speechless when I'm finished with them. If they're lucky, it won't be because their jaws are wired shut for the next six weeks. But it could definitely end up that way, if that's what it takes for me to retain one... more... time. Because, boyo, this man isn't going down anytime soon. I refuse to lose. I refuse... to fall!

~Vaughn yells out, looking up at the sky, with the cameraman looking up as well. A second later, there's the sound of a loud crash, as the cameraman brings the shot back down... and finds that Vaughn is no longer there. Confused for a moment, the cameraman pans left, then right, knowing that the exit is actually behind him. Vaughn couldn't have gotten by him. By the time he sees the construction workers running along the edges, yelling out for safety rope, he finally aims the camera lower... showing the large hole that's opened up in the warped, damaged roof.~

Cameraman: Oh my God...

~The cameraman inches forward, trying to aim inside the newly-created hole. He can't get close enough, though, as the whole structure appears now to be unstable.~

Cameraman: Peter?! PETER?!?!

~As a worker gets close, risking his own skin, the camera shot slowly fades out.~


Voice: Peter?

~The voice echoes strangely for a second, then seems to start coalescing together as it clears up. Vaughn's eyes open, blinking multiple times.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter? Are you awake?

~Vaughn turns his head to the side, focusing on his girlfriend, Sadie Anderson, sitting next to him. He slowly sits up from the hospital bed, smiling at her. The bandage on his forehead is extremely visible, as is the ones on his arms as he reaches out towards Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. It's good to see you.

~Vaughn gives Sadie a sideways hug, which Sadie leans into as if to make it a little easier for him. Vaughn then straightens up from her, pushing the sheets aside.~

Peter Vaughn: They wouldn't let me leave without someone picking me up.

~Vaughn gets out of the bed, still wearing a medical gown. Luckily, his backside is turned away from the camera. He reaches out for his coveralls, apparently hiding any winces or groans, as Sadie gets up, looking surprised.~

Sadie Anderson: Whoa, hold on, Peter! You just woke up, and I don't think you should be hurrying out of here!

Peter Vaughn: It was just a short nap. There was nothing on TV, so I decided to make use of the time while I waited. I knew you'd be coming soon, Sadie.

~Vaughn finishes getting his coveralls on, then reaches for his shoes, ignoring any injuries. Sadie still looks worried, watching him carefully. She comes around to his side, grabbing at his arm.~

Sadie Anderson: But Peter! You fell off a building!

~Vaughn glances over at her, an eyebrow raised.~

Peter Vaughn: No, no, I fell THROUGH a building. That's very different.

Sadie Anderson: Not to me it's not! You could have internal injuries!

Peter Vaughn: Nope. All x-rays were fine. Seriously, Sadie, I've fallen from the top of the entryway through a stack of tables. This fall doesn't even compare. I mean, okay, I wasn't expecting it, so it knocked me a little loopy, but I'm fine now. Trust me.

~Sadie still doesn't look convinced, but Vaughn steps forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. He leans in, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, something that Vaughn never would have done a month ago. He looks deeply into her eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: It was all a fluke. At least I proved that the roof really DID need to be replaced. But I'm okay, and we can get out of here. I've got more important things to worry about, after all.

Sadie Anderson: ... And you're SURE they're okay with releasing you this quickly?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, yeah, they are. Sure, I had to 'convince' them a little, and they wanted me to get a ride, but now that you're here, I'm certain we can walk right out that door.

~Vaughn quickly points towards the door, ready to go. He grabs a bag of his items, holding them in one arm, as he puts the other arm around Sadie, flashing her his biggest fake grin. It doesn't fool her. She knows Peter too well. She knows he's up to something. But she sighs and accepts it, with the two heading out as quickly as possible.~


It's rather amazing how quickly the world can fall out from underneath you.

It's also crazy to think about what causes it to happen.

You know, Jackie, I really do have a history now in SCW in bettering my opponent's careers by defeating them in title defenses. Just look at Miles Kasey, jumping straight up to the Internet Championship after his losses to me. What about Helluva Bottom Carter? After a couple of losses to me earlier this year, Carter ends up putting away Michael Harris for good. Eddie Lyons is putting on career matches, even if he blew it at High Stakes, and even the Troll got a victory after he fell off the Ultimate X. Really, I'm expecting great things from Rodrigo now that I throttled him.

But it's strange, Jacques, that you appear to be the exception to the rule. In fact, you're doing everything completely opposite.

After all, when we had our Champion vs. Champion match, you were on top of the world as the Internet Champ, and you were able to take me down when nobody else could. I mean, major props, I give that all to you, you were the better man that day. No excuses from me, I'll admit when I wasn't at my best. But let's look at what happened after that major victory of yours.

First, you went into Summer XXXtreme XI and lost your precious championship, getting slaughtered by Calvin Harris. It must have burned you to see me retaining over Milo & The Troll when you couldn't get your side handled. But you shook it off. You got yourself into the King for a Day match by beating a helpless goofball. But then you couldn't handle things in the tag, with you & Raven losing to Mercer & Kasey, followed by the actual match at Violent Conduct IX when Mercer again cleaned your clock. No crown for you, Mr. Washington.

Unable to accept your new status as "In The Toilet", you once again sought an easy victory, taking it over... well, our opponent for this one, Bill Barnhart. Poor ol' Bill, always bullied by guys like Jackie. But that didn't change much, did it, Jack? The fans were looking at you differently, seeing that you were on a downward spiral. So you got yourself a match against a Hall of Famer, my buddy Goth... and Goth categorically destroyed you. You couldn't stand that, could you? So you put all your clout into getting yourself into the Heavyweight Title match at High Stakes, even though it sure didn't feel like you deserved it anymore.

And what happened? You lost. Again.

I mean, in all seriousness, Jack, it's really rather sad to see what's happened with you in the past few months since you got your win over me. Is that why you got this shot? Did you say to yourself, "I need to go back where it all started; I need to break the curse"?  That's the only reason I can see for you being in this one. Because if I recall correctly, you were badly trashing the Roulette Title, saying how much more meaningful the Internet strap was... and obviously, holding the Heavyweight Title above that.

It kind of makes it feel like you're bottom-feeding here, desperate to stop your steep descent into wrestling oblivion.

But here's the thing, Jackyl. I won't be throwing you a lifeline. I'm going to be the one stomping you further into the void, continuing your ultimate plunge with a Plunge of my own. We may be 1-1 against each other, but at this point, I don't think it's going to be a tiebreaker so much as a Jackbreaker. I'll be coming at you at full force, with everything on the line for me, with all the pressure fueling me on to rip you in two.

I may be a Savior, but I'm not YOUR savior, Jack. The world's falling out from under you, and I'm not stopping your plummet into oblivion.

I'm encouraging it.


~As Vaughn and Sadie walk out of the hospital doors, Vaughn takes a nice, deep breath, enjoying the crisp air of a November evening. He heads for the parking lot, as Sadie looks nervously behind them. But nobody appears to be in pursuit, so Sadie hurries after him. They get to her car, a brown Ford Focus. Vaughn tries the passenger door handle, but it's still locked.~

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, Sadie, get the doors open. We don't have a lot of time to waste.

~Again Sadie looks back towards the hospital, more concerned now given Vaughn's reaction.~

Sadie Anderson: Are you sure you're supposed to leave? Aren't they always supposed to wheel you out for insurance reasons? Why didn't anyone check us out?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I took care of all the paperwork... and I didn't need the wheelchair, I'm fine. So let's go ahead and get going, okay?

~She looks doubtful, but since there are no screaming nurses running their way, there doesn't seem to be any choice. Sadie pops the locks, and Vaughn immediately pulls himself inside. Sadie gets in as well, buckling herself in and starting up the engine.~

Sadie Anderson: So you want me to go straight back to the ranch so you can rest?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I got plenty of rest in that hospital bed waiting for you. As for the ranch, well, can we stop by the work site first? I left Gabriella over there, and I need to pick her up and bring her home.

Sadie Anderson: Wait... you want to drive your truck? In the condition you're in??

~Sadie looks over at Vaughn, alarmed, but he gives her a slightly pleading look, as he talks about his favorite truck in the entire world.~

Peter Vaughn: You know how good Gabriella has treated me, and I've put a lot of effort into making her the greatest truck possible. I would really rather not leave her all night in downtown Dallas. I mean, I might never see her again, and you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?

~Vaughn tries harder to make his eyes like Puss-in-Boots from Shrek. It doesn't really work the way he expects, as Sadie can't help but laugh at him trying way too hard. But she agrees, putting the car into reverse and pulling out.~

Sadie Anderson: Fine. Let's go get the other love of your life.

~With Vaughn nodding enthusiastically, Sadie pulls away, leaving the hospital behind. They drive for a while, making their way through Dallas traffic, as Sadie concentrates on the road. She can't help but notice, though, that Vaughn keeps checking his watch.~

Sadie Anderson: Are you late for a date with someone else, Peter? Or somewhere else pressing you need to be?

Peter Vaughn: Nope, for both questions. I'm just... anxious about how late it's getting. Right now, someone could be stealing Gabriella's hubcaps, and those are custom-made. They took a lot of work, too, so I'd hate to lose them.

Sadie Anderson: *Sigh* Alright, we'll be there soon, and I'm sure your truck...

Peter Vaughn: Gabriella.

Sadie Anderson: ... Gabriella, will be fine.

Peter Vaughn: Thanks, Sadie. I really owe you for this. And I always pay my debts.

~The drive continues, and soon they arrive in the parking lot where Gabriella is waiting. The truck looks to still be in pristine condition, with all of its hubcaps intact. Vaughn looks relieved, getting out and walking over to pat the truck on the side. Sadie waits in her car, ready to leave, but she puts it in park when she sees Vaughn suddenly glare towards the doorway and lower himself down. She turns off the engine, getting out.~

Sadie Anderson: What is it? What's wrong?

Peter Vaughn: There are lights on inside. Nobody should be working this late. And I think... I think I hear someone...

Sadie Anderson: Should we call the police?

~Even as Sadie asks, though, Vaughn shakes his head. He then moves forward, crouched, getting to the doorway. He slams it open and runs inside, and there's instantly the sound of commotion. Sadie, startled at the suddenness of it all, reaches into her car and pulls out her revolver, before running towards the door.~

Sadie Anderson: PETER!!

~All fear cast aside in her concern for her boyfriend, Sadie shoves through the doorway, running into the lobby... before coming to a dead stop, completely shocked. Inside, we can see a bunch of twinkling lights wired up, blinking all across the walls and hanging from the ceiling. In front of us, there is a group of people waiting, including ranch hands from the PMV Ranch, a few relatively well-known wrestlers, and Vaughn's half-brother, Thomas, along with his 'recently found' girlfriend Carrie and their child, William. There is some soft country music playing in the background. Sadie, completely confused, lowers the gun quickly to point towards the floor.~

Sadie Anderson: What... what's going...

~From the side, Peter Vaughn walks up to Sadie, smiling at her. He has removed the bandage from his forehead, leaving it behind him, and showing the unscathed skin underneath. He steps in front of her, taking a bit of a nervous gulp, before slowly... lowering... to one knee. He looks up at her, with a small box in hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie Anderson.... will you marry me?


Life stays interesting only when there's an element of surprise in it.

To me, the biggest surprise was Washey getting a shot at my Roulette Title, after just being in the fight for the Heavyweight Title at the last show. But secondary to that was good ol' Bill Barnhart getting added to the mix. Of course, the surprise factor was for an entirely different reason: I haven't seen Billy as a legitimate title contender for months now.

Maybe once upon a time, the Barn Dog was a threat. I'm still waiting, though, to see the legend behind the man. I haven't seen it yet.

Oh, I know, he keeps getting opportunity after opportunity, and he HAS achieved success with these chances in the past. But lately, all I ever see is Barnhart taking the pin lately. He's fallen at shots at the Roulette Title. He's been unable to make a goal in the Mixed Tag division, despite supposedly having a great bond with his 'partner'. He's even being used as a starting point for returning wrestlers like Goth at Violent Conduct IX and Ben Jordan at High Stakes 13, getting thrown in there to take a beating and make the fans happy to see the returnees.

It's a thankless job, but it's one that somebody's got to do, and I at least can appreciate Barney taking that one on.

Here's the thing, Bill. You and I are starting to know each other pretty well. I defeated you once at Into The Void XII, sending you and Malachi down to become the Roulette Champion. I beat you a second time in July at Climax Control, winning over you when you supposedly had the advantage in a Stretcher match. And now, here we are, facing off for a third time, and honestly? I'm not expecting any change in the dynamic.

Washington may be on a faltering trajectory, but you've been flatlining for months, Bulldog. I seriously don't know what you have that enables you to keep getting title opportunities like this, as the fans just aren't buying you as a serious contender anymore. I still see flashes of greatness every so often, don't get me wrong. I'd love to see you find a way to use the momentum of a loss against me to climb back up to some glory. But I just don't see it happening, boyo.

Washington and I are likely to be knocking the ever-living hell out of each other from the opening bell. But I bet he's going to be just like me, and see you as a distraction only in this one. A distraction I plan to knock unconscious as soon as possible. Hey, maybe we'll get another sledgehammer match, that'll allow me to make it quick. Or maybe it'll be another high-flying match, and you'll be even more out of luck.

Slow and heavy just isn't the way to make a living, my friend.

The only real benefit I have to you being in the match is that it's possible I can show you some Revenged and end this one quickly, before J-Wash has a chance to even get going. And that way, my title reign can reach its foregone conclusion, and you can make your way to the back with one more moment added to my story... as well as the approaching end of your own.

Then again, maybe you'll surprise me... and not bother showing up.

Nah, you'd never do that. You'll be there. And my foot will be in your face as quickly as possible. The only surprise coming your way is when you look up and see that you're about to take the Plunge once again.


~Sadie is staring down at Vaughn, absolutely stunned. Her gun hand starts to shake, due to her shock, so Vaughn reaches up with his free hand and takes the revolver away.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't think we need this...

~The gun is set to the side, before Vaughn turns back, opening up the box in his hand. There is a large ring inside, glimmering in the lights. He looks up at Sadie, who still hasn't said anything.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie... you've shown me more about life than anyone else has. You've been the person who's been able to reach the REAL me, the one hidden deep inside. I've found myself looking forward more to life than ever before... and I want to continue to spend it with you. So I ask you... once again.... will you marry me?

~The crowd is quiet behind them, already unsure of how this is going considering Sadie came in armed. Sadie looks over at them, then drops her gaze back to Vaughn. Finally, she finds her voice.~
 
Sadie Anderson: .... Yes. The answer's yes, Peter.

~With a relieved release of air, Vaughn pulls himself back up, embracing Sadie, with the two sharing a long kiss as the audience cheers behind them. The music is turned up, as confetti poppers are fired into the air around them. Vaughn then gets the engagement ring free, putting it on Sadie's trembling finger. The celebration then begins, as everyone rushes in to congratulate them. The camera seems to spin away, showing the passage of time as the party commences.~


~After a few twirls, the camera settles back down, and we find Peter and Sadie sitting to the side, with Sadie bringing herself closer to her new fiancé. She leans into him, but then hesitates, looking at his arm, which still has some bandages on it.~

Sadie Anderson: So... was the entire thing staged? The accident, the hospital, all of it?

Peter Vaughn: Not exactly, no...

~Vaughn reaches over, peeling back one of the bandages, where we can see some cuts and bruises underneath, having been treated at the hospital. Sadie winces at them, even as Vaughn covers them back up.~

Peter Vaughn: The accident on the roof happened pretty much as you were told it did. I didn't expect it to give way underneath me, for sure. Luckily, I grabbed at some of the rebar as I fell, scratching up my arms some, but it slowed me down enough so that when I landed on the top floor, I mostly just took the impact. You know what they say, us wrestlers know how to fall.

~Vaughn chuckles to himself, before becoming serious again. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: If anything, though... this accident sped up some plans I had in mind. I could have easily been seriously injured. If I dropped at the wrong angle, I might not even be here anymore. And that risk isn't just for stupid accidents like this one. It could happen any night I'm in the ring, or outside of it. Guys like Washington and Barnhart would probably love to be the ones to put me out of the sport, just so they could say it was them. I always seem to be a target nowadays.

~Sadie pats him on the arm, careful to aim away from the bandages. Vaughn reacts, reaching over to take her hand as he stares into her eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I thought to myself... I can't put off my plans anymore. I can't waste time. So I talked to the workers, called up everyone who was nearby, and got everything hung up. It's amazing how quickly Christmas lights went on sale, isn't it? I figured, might as well make use of the circumstances, right?

Sadie Anderson: I suppose so. Although I'm going to remember this in the future, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: I wouldn't want it any other way.

~Vaughn watches as Sadie stares at the ring on her finger, a family heirloom that Vaughn never thought would be put to use. He doesn't know why he never sold it or threw it away. Maybe that proved it was always meant to be.~

Peter Vaughn: So you know what you're getting into, right? I'm still not the perfect man by any means. I have a long way to go to get anywhere near there.

Sadie Anderson: And I've told you before, I wanted to be there with you as you made your way on that path.

Peter Vaughn: And you'll... you'll be with me? All along the way?

~Vaughn's voice seems a little higher, which catches Sadie's attention. Of course, she knows all about how Vaughn's mother abandoned him when he was still young, deserting him & his father. She grabs hold of his hand tightly.~

Sadie Anderson: All the way... and beyond.

~She leans in, kissing him, as a future wife in love with her future husband would. The two sit there, ignoring the rest of the party as it goes on in the building Vaughn bought, now forever memorialized as the place Vaughn proposed. We slowly fade out.~


23
Supercard Archives / Challenges & Impossibilities, Pt 2
« on: October 19, 2023, 06:44:59 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up outside the multi-story building currently being renovated by Peter Vaughn. It's meant to be an addition to his Garden of Betrayal, which is set up right next store, but a lot of demolition has been taken place over the last few weeks to bring it back up to code. Right now, the work is once again being furiously done inside... but the cameraman, standing outside, seems reluctant to go in. He moves the camera back and forth, as if considering his options.~

Cameraman: Y'know, my parents said I should have tried signing up for the NFL or Major League Baseball, so I could be operating a camera in a safer location. But no, I said, I wanted to travel. I wanted the action. I wanted...

~Suddenly, there's a yell from up above, and the camera tilts up to see a large piece of masonry seemingly headed our direction. The cameraman screams and runs to the right, although it turned out to be a bit of a visual illusion, as the brick wall falls into a large trash disposal bin perfectly placed outside the building. It makes a tremendous crash inside the metal container. This seems to make up the cameraman's mind, as he gets out his phone.~

Cameraman: That's it. This is NOT safe. I'm going to tell that Peter Vaughn what I truly think...

Peter Vaughn: And what's that, boyo?

~The cameraman jumps a fair distance in the air, judging by how much the shot bounces before it recenters on Peter Vaughn, who is standing behind him, removing some work gloves. An audible gulp can be heard from behind the camera.~

Cameraman: I... I... well, I...

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, friend. Speak your mind. I never hold someone's thoughts against them. Well, that's not true, I routinely insult my opponents for their idiotic thoughts, but for you, it's all good.

Cameraman: I... I don't feel safe here.

Peter Vaughn: You know, we're following all ICC Building Code rules and requirements. I'm not stupid enough to allow them to crack down on us and shut this all down.

~There's another loud crash behind them, as more debris is thrown into the disposal bin. The camera jerks again, showing the man's fear at accidentally getting crushed. Vaughn, barely moved by it, shrugs his shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: But I'm not trying to make you feel stressed out. So come with me. There's a nice Persian restaurant a few blocks away. I'll get you a meal on the house. Deal?

~Without waiting for a response, Vaughn heads for his favorite truck, Gabriella, as the stunned cameraman follows behind him. We get a cutaway, with the camera coming back on inside the Sahara restaurant. Vaughn is currently dining on a Kubideh Kabob, while the cameraman appears to have some lamb kabobs in front of him. He takes a bite, and although we can't see his face, it's clear he's enjoying it.~

Peter Vaughn: Pretty good, right? I love that this place is so close by to my new territory. Maybe I can convince them to move into my new building when it's complete. A man can dream, can't he?

~The cameraman doesn't answer, as he's too busy chewing. Vaughn, meanwhile, leans back in his chair.~

Peter Vaughn: It's wild to think that High Stakes is right around the corner, the final big show for Sin City this year. Do you remember when I started with you, back in February? Everyone thought I wasn't going to stick around long. They didn't think I deserved a shot at the Roulette Title, much less the Heavyweight Championship. They thought I'd lose the belt within a month of winning it, because they didn't think I cared enough.

~Vaughn picks up the yogurt drink next to him, taking a sip, before putting it back down.~

Peter Vaughn: And now it's the opposite problem. People like Rodrigo Afonso saying that I've held the title TOO long, and that I'm keeping it away from the 'rookies' who deserve to be fighting for it. That's pretty rich, honestly. Nobody has been able to defeat me for my belt. Not even Roddy. But now I'm apparently supposed to just vacate it, precisely BECAUSE nobody can beat me for it.

~He shakes his head, annoyed by the hypocrisy of his opposition.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, it's not happening. I gave my word when I competed for this championship that I would defend it proudly as a member of the Sin City roster, and I've lived up to my word. To get this belt off of me? Someone's going to have to take me down. Maybe Roddy can do it on his second chance. Maybe not. But I'm sure as hell not just walking away from it. If the record is meant to be mine, it will be. And if Roderick doesn't like it, well, he can try to shut me up at High Stakes, can't he?

~Vaughn reaches down, grabbing another kabab and taking a bite. He munches for a second, thinking things through.~

Peter Vaughn: The funny thing is, I actually do respect Roddy's energy in the ring. I'm not lying when I said that he was one of the better competitors I faced off for with the title on the line. So I want him to up his game. I want him to bring the fight to me and make me EARN this record. I want to come within a hairsbreadth of losing before I pull the Uno Reverse and smash him into the canvas with the Plunge. You never earn respect in this business without facing strong competition, after all. I just hope Rodrigo's ready to rumble, so that I can have all the people I'm passing in the record books say "Damn, I guess he deserved it".

~With that, Vaughn finishes his kabob, then cleans his mouth with his napkin. He raises a hand to the waitress, ready to pay the bill.~

Cameraman: Hey, Mr. Vaughn... I just want to say... thanks for bringing me here to talk. It definitely felt safer... and the food is pretty good, too.

Peter Vaughn: I know, right?

~The waitress comes over, with Vaughn reaching into his wallet and pulling out a long piece of paper, handing it to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Please factor that into the bill, please, miss. Thank you.

~The waitress walks away, looking slightly disappointed, but not before the cameraman is able to get a shot of the piece of paper.~

Cameraman: Hold on... is that a Buy One, Get One Free coupon??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. It was going to expire at the end of the month. I'm glad I got a chance to use it.

Cameraman: But... but...

Peter Vaughn: What's wrong? You still got your meal for free, didn't you? Enjoy it. Now, I've got to get back to work...

~Vaughn pulls out some cash, leaving it on the table, before getting up and heading towards the door. The cameraman takes in the money, then decides to add a few bucks on top for the tip, before following after him. The shot cuts out.~


~When the picture comes back up, we find ourselves staring at a daffodil. The flower flutters in the Texas breeze, managing to stay upright. It is lost, though, when a hand reaches in, picking it from the ground. Sadie Anderson brings it up to her face, staring at it, her sadness clear as she lets the daffodil go. It floats away, being carried by the wind, passing by the approaching feet of Peter Vaughn. He stands, a little uncertain, behind Sadie, rubbing at the back of his head.~

Sadie Anderson: How did you find me?

~Sadie doesn't even look back, but she must have heard something that clued her in. Vaughn coughs for a second.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, you didn't really cover your tracks. Even a novice like me could follow your footprints. Plus, you've come up here before, so I thought you might be headed here.

Sadie Anderson: Uh huh. So there is no tracker in my watch or earrings that you gave me?

Peter Vaughn: Uh, nope, not that I know of.

~Vaughn carefully pushes his cell phone into his pocket before moving around Sadie and taking a seat next to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Can we talk, Sadie?

Sadie Anderson: I don't know what there is to talk about. I've been thinking about it, and this kid happened before we were even... getting closer. So I shouldn't let it bother me so.

Peter Vaughn: Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: I guess maybe it's because you've told me so many times about your... issues. I thought I was the one who could bring you out of your shell. So knowing somebody else found a way to do it first....

~Vaughn shakes his head, unhappy with the way the conversation is going.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, I do NOT have a child. This has all been a grave misunderstanding... either that, or it's a deliberate attack on myself and my ranch.

Sadie Anderson: The girl... Carrie... she said that you were both drunk. It was after a show. You know it could have happened...

Peter Vaughn: Not a chance in hell. For one thing, you know I can handle my liquor.

Sadie Anderson: NOW you can, but back then...

Peter Vaughn: Second, do I really look like the guy who goes out and parties with the fans after a show? Please. I never have any interest in hanging out with groupies and geeks like that. I'd rather go back to the hotel room and work on a crossword puzzle. Maybe call you and find out what was happening with the ranch. But I don't join the riffraff. Ever.

~Sadie looks over at him, realizing that he's serious. She crooks her head.~

Sadie Anderson: That's... kind of sad.

Peter Vaughn: It's how I am. But it's also how I know this wasn't me. I would never allow myself to lose control like that. And as for just 'sleeping around'... it's just not something I'm interested in. I leave that to others. There are plenty of guys who like to have a wild time as pro wrestlers, but I've never seen the point. It just leads to trouble... y'know, like the trouble we're having here.

~Sadie seems to consider his words, then starts to work to her feet. Vaughn does the same, with Sadie turning his direction, staring directly into his eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: You promise me this wasn't you?

Peter Vaughn: I guarantee it.

Sadie Anderson: And you didn't... make any 'donations' at a sperm bank or anything?

Peter Vaughn: That, crazily enough, was my father, not me.

~Vaughn shudders at the mere memory of that, although it WAS what netted him a half-sister living in Oklahoma right now. Sadie studies him for a moment more, finally making up her mind.~

Sadie Anderson: Then I guess we need to get to the bottom of this.

Peter Vaughn: I'm all for it.

~The two turn and head back to where the horses are hitched to a small tree, patiently waiting for their return. They saddle up, starting on their way back to the ranch. There's still some distance between them, as this one managed to do some damage. But at the very least, they're riding together, and that's something.~


Sometimes you've just got to solve the mystery.

For you, Roddy, apparently the mystery is why I call myself The Mechanic, when I don't work in an auto shop somewhere. That's pretty short-sided considering your own background. I mean, you wouldn't want to be called "The Skater" or the "Whiny Brat" just because of what you did before, would you? I sure didn't want to be called "The Janitor" when I started out, but then, I was a different person then. I let stuff slide past me. Not anymore.

But if you want to know why I have such a name, Hot Rodder,  well, there are multiple reasons. First, I'm a tinkerer. I always have been. Most custodians and janitors are, because we had to learn to use whatever finite resources were available to pull off cleaning miracles. I got pretty good at rewiring broken equipment and making it work for me again. From there, I learned to experiment, always interested in designing a new machine that might make my life easier.

You should come tour the ranch sometime. Most unique ranch in the world, I'm certain.

In wrestling terms, though, a Mechanic has a completely different meaning. It's a wrestler who's known for being a teacher inside the squared circle. Someone who can battle with the future main eventers, and maybe get some of them ready for taking that next step. You could say I've been fairly successful in that regard here in SCW. Just look at Kasey, Lyons, and even yourself, Rod. Some time spent in-between the ropes with me, and all of you have the eyes of the fans upon you.

Of course, I'm not your traditional Mechanic... because usually the teacher isn't supposed to beat the ever-living hell out of their proteges. But I still believe that bruises are the best learning tools for any young warrior to bear.

Believe it or not, Roddy, I'm teaching you a great deal of valuable lessons. How to take a punch. How to duck. How to not wet your pants when you get bodyslammed onto a pile of broken glass. Hopefully, you've learned a few of these lessons, if I didn't end up knocking them out of your head due to a concussion from the Keyholder. They didn't announce anything, so I'm assuming your brain didn't get too rattled up the last time we faced. I can't guarantee we'll avoid it this time, not knowing what kind of contest we're going to have, but I'll still try to keep some of your brain cells active. I want you to learn from this.

Don't get me wrong. I badly want the victory still. I've put a lot on the line for this victory, and I'm damn sure planning on knocking you unconscious or making you tap out, whichever one turns out to be required. Maybe both, because you strike me as the type that would rather pass out than give up, which, okay, I understand the bravado, but stubbornness can do a lot of damage to your future. The point is, no matter what it takes, I'm going to be putting you down for a second time.

I don't expect there to be a third, at least not for the Roulette Championship. After this, I want you to move on and find someone else to make your name against. Build yourself up. Put that weak-willed skateboarding life behind you and become a true, dominant professional wrestler. And then, maybe, we WILL meet for a third time... for the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Championship.

Wouldn't that be a trip?

But let's not look too far ahead, Rodz. I still have plenty to teach you as The Mechanic. We'll just see if you're able to soak up the information, or if I have to knock it into that brain of yours. Again. And again. And again.

That solve the mystery for you?


~We rejoin our riders as they approach the ranch, pulling up short as they recognize one of the vehicles back in their parking area.~

Sadie Anderson: Great. The lawyer's back, and I bet he brought... her.

Peter Vaughn: Look, until we figure out what the scam is, let's not get into violence. Afterwards, of course, we can crack some skulls, but let's not lose control, okay?

Sadie Anderson: ... Fine.

~Sadie nudges her horse, Cinnamon, into action, with Vaughn following behind on Artax. They get to the stables, where a ranch hand is there to take their horses from them as they head around towards the main homestead. Sadie heads inside first, followed by Vaughn, as they see the lawyer & the mother getting to their feet.~

Peter Vaughn: Welcome back. You sure didn't waste time in returning.

Brock Hudson: Well, we're only in town for a short time. As you must understand, Ms. Primance will need to get back to her life once everything here is... settled.

Peter Vaughn: Well, as I've already told you, you're both making a rather large mistake, and the DNA tests will surely prove that.

~The woman steps forward, studying Peter, a single tear coming down the side of her face.~

Carrie Primance: I still don't understand. How can you deny the moment we had? It was... special. I remember your jaw clenching... I remember your strong arms...

Peter Vaughn: Do you remember my Chinese Zodiac tattoo?

~Everyone, even Sadie, turn and stare at Vaughn for a few confused seconds.~

Carrie Primance: Your... your what? I don't... you have a Chinese Zodiac tattoo?

Peter Vaughn: No, of course I don't. I don't have any tattoos at all, and if you slept with me, you should know that, right?

Carrie Primance: I... had a lot to drink that night. I don't remember everything...

Peter Vaughn: So how do you know it was me again?

Brock Hudson: That was me. It took some investigative work, but we were able to work backwards and narrow down the list of suspects. Ms. Primance picked your picture out as soon as I showed it to her.

Sadie Anderson: But you don't KNOW it was him...

Carrie Primance: His eyes are so familiar though...

Sadie Anderson: But you can't identify anything else? Something he said? Something he WORE?

~Sadie gets closer to Carrie, with both Vaughn and Hudson stepping between them. It didn't seem likely that a fight would break out with Carrie's child, William, there, but you never know for sure. Hudson, with the situation back under control, reaches into his pocket, pulling out an envelope.~

Brock Hudson: At any rate, there's no more reason to speculate. We have the results right here.

Peter Vaughn: You have the DNA results already?? My lab told me it would be weeks!!

Brock Hudson: Well, er, our lab has specific equipment, er, that allows them to...

Peter Vaughn: You got a sample of my DNA before all this, didn't you?

Brock Hudson: ... As a lawyer, I refuse to incriminate myself...

~Vaughn scoffs, but then takes the envelope and hands it over to Sadie, who immediately unseals it to look at the results.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I'm glad you found a way to hurry this up. I just want everything here to get back to normal, understand? No offense to you, Ms. Primance, but I'll be happy to have this all over with. Well, Sadie? Tell them the good news.

~Sadie is quiet, still re-reading the results. Vaughn looks over his shoulder at her, still keeping his smile plastered on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie? Go ahead and tell them.

~After a moment, Sadie looks up from the sheet of paper.~

Sadie Anderson: It... it says familial DNA was found. There was a match.

Peter Vaughn: There you see? I... wait...

~Vaughn immediately grabs the results from Sadie, looking them over himself, as both the lawyer and the mother smile.~


There are moments in life that just don't go the way you expect them to. The only solution when that happens is just to keep moving forward on your new path.

I know you didn't expect to lose to me the first time, Roddick. You thought you were indestructible, making your way into Sin City and expecting just to smash your way through every opponent that gets in your way. A lot of wrestlers feel that way when they first make their climb in a new company. Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the kidney... or the face, wherever the shot actually lands.

Some of those guys never recover from those losses. There have been curtain jerkers who crumbled into obscurity. There have been main eventers who threw a massive tantrum and vanished from the scene afterwards. In all honesty, I'm happy to see them go. They didn't deserve to be in the business. They lacked the spine, guts, and testicular fortitude to continue to hang around the industry.

But you, Rod? I don't see you quitting, even if and when you fall to me again.

In fact, I'll let you in on a well-known secret... I used to be a loser just like you. Well, okay, not exactly like you. I was worse. I took beatings day in and day out, back when I hadn't had the... modifications I have now. I look back on that guy, that Janitor, with a lot of contempt, but there is one thing I'd never take away from him: he was never a quitter. He kept coming back, who knows why, and eventually it led to me being the superstar in the business that I am today.

Now, for you, I wouldn't recommend the brainwash or torture... but still, try and take what you can from this match.

When I twist your ankle and grapevine your leg, think about ways you could counter it, either by getting to the ropes or curling it back on me to get my shoulders on the mat. When I come diving over to the ropes towards you at full speed, try and come up with some sort of counter using the environment before I fully crash through you and leave you a mangled mess on the outside mats. When I smash you into the canvas with Revenged, try and channel that inner strength to maybe get a toe on the apron or raise your shoulder an inch. Try and take each and every abusive strike against you as a new learning experience.

It isn't the path you wanted. You were hoping to be unscathed. But this is wrestling, boyo. It just doesn't work like that.

Take your lumps. Fight back the best you can, but when you find yourself about to take the Plunge, know that your experience gain will be worth it in the end, once you wake up. This new path could easily be the one that takes you to the top in the future.

And someday, when you're talking in the future about your battles with the Mechanic and how they all went against you,  maybe I'll be sitting there, smiling, cheering you on as you've found success in spite of me KO'ing you repeatedly. Maybe this will be the moment where you look back and say "That's when I learned all I needed to know to be successful".

Hey, I make a hell of a role model. In the ring, at least.

So roll with every punch, kick, and groin shot. Survive as long as you possibly can, no matter what's coming your way, be it tables, ladders, chairs, or barbed wire. Let your blood flow, let your heart race, and let your emotions run wild. It'll all be worth it in the future.

Once your new path has been determined after your second defeat to the SCW Roulette Champion is complete.

I wish you the best of luck on your journey afterwards.


~Vaughn is still studying the DNA results, looking them over, as everyone in the room waits impatiently. Finally, he looks back at Sadie, raising an eyebrow.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, I don't understand most of this. What's this about familial DNA? Does that mean... somehow... that's my kid?

Brock Hudson: We told you what the results were going to be, Mr. Vaughn. Now, we need to start talking about your responsibilities...

~The lawyer steps forward, but his smile fades slightly when Sadie moves in front of him, putting a hand on his chest to push him back.~

Sadie Anderson: Hold your horses, moneybags. You and I both know that's NOT what the results show.

Carrie Primance: They don't??

Peter Vaughn: ... They don't?

~Sadie turns, grabbing the sheet of paper from Vaughn's confused hands.~

Sadie Anderson: I may not be a scientist, Mr. Hudson, but I've seen enough investigative shows to know that this small level of familial DNA means that Peter here is NOT the father. It's not enough of a link.

Brock Hudson: Well, I... I mean, that could be argued in court...

Sadie Anderson: Don't give me that. You know you'd lose. The percentage would be much higher if Peter Vaughn was the gene donor for that child, and you know it.

Carrie Primance: So... he's not...

~Carrie sniffles slightly, then steps away, holding onto William with a tight hug as she faces away from the group. Vaughn glances over at her, but he's more interested in what Sadie has to say.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait... but you said there's a match, Sadie. I heard you say that.

Brock Hudson: Exactly! William is related to you!

Sadie Anderson: But NOT in a fatherly way! It's not enough for that. I'm not even sure it's enough to be a grandparent connection. It's more like, maybe, a cousin? Or maybe an unc...

~It was at that instant that the front door swung open, catching all their attention. Thomas Hill, Vaughn's half-brother, wheels himself inside, still recovering from a stabbing that nearly killed him a few months ago. He smiles at the group, surprised to see so many people there.~

Thomas Hill: Hello, everyone! I just got back into town and I thought I'd swing by and see how everyone's doing. Everything... good?

~The entire group stares at Thomas, who certainly DOES have a passing resemblance to Peter Vaughn, although he does his hair and clothing style completely differently. Carrie steps forward, leaning over with William, as if to stare deeply into Thomas' eyes and getting two raised eyebrows in return.~

Thomas Hill: Uh... Pete? Fill a brother in?

~Thomas looks in slightly agitated confusion at Vaughn, past both Carrie and Hudson, who now both are turning and nodding at each other. Vaughn, for his part, finally seems to relax.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Thomas... looks like we need to have ourselves a little conversation about your activities when you visit me at shows...

Thomas Hill: Huh?

~Thomas doesn't seem to understand, even as Carrie steps closer to him, touching his cheek. He suddenly looks at her a little closer.~

Thomas Hill: Hey, uh... have we met somewhere?

~Blinking through a few more tears, Carrie smiles, but is only able to nod. She can't quite talk yet, so Vaughn helps out, stepping in and taking the little William from her and handing him over to Thomas.~

Peter Vaughn: Congratulations, pops...

Thomas Hill: Wha-wha-what?? Who? Huh???

~Thomas stares at William, who after being moved around a bit, decides to burp in his face. As Thomas tries to put together what's happening, Peter steps back with Sadie, who looks more than a little relieved.~

Peter Vaughn: I told you, didn't I?

Sadie Anderson: You did. And I'm sorry I reacted the way I did.

Peter Vaughn: No worries. This one was a pretty wild ride. Actually, it's not over yet, I guess, because Thomas is going to need some help, I bet.

Sadie Anderson: Carrie and William as well. They're part of the family now, after all.

Peter Vaughn: I suppose so. But at least I don't have to worry about the diapers part.

~Sadie laughs and gives Peter a short hug, putting a lot of meaning behind it. They stand there, even as the camera slowly zooms out to show the whole room, and everyone in it, before we fade out.~


It's crazy to have to dodge a bullet that you never even fired. But that's life, right?

At least now I can settle down without having to worry about Junior, and can concentrate on spanking the other youngster in my life. Roddy-boy, I believe we've said all about we need to say. You think you're going to tie up the series. I think it's going to continue to be a clean sweep. We'll see who's right at High Stakes, won't we? After all, in the end, all our words are meaningless. It's going to come down to the skill and expertise inside the ring... or out of it, depending on what match we get.

I'm relishing this fight, Roddie. I know you're going to make it memorable. As much as I've enjoyed my previous PPV victories here in Sin City, I'm still looking for that marquee event that everyone is talking about later that week. The match that absolutely steals the show. You and I, Rods, we can do it. We can blow everyone's minds, I know we can. And I truly hope you don't take it too hard when I'm victorious once again, cementing my legacy as the greatest Roulette Champion in SCW history.

At least you'll have the memories of the crowd cheering us on, wanting to see you succeed, but still thrilled at the maneuvers I'm pulling off. Hang onto that feeling, and maybe you'll be able to find it again one day, when you're the one facing the arrogant rookie who thinks they can do it all. I hope you remember me then.

Until that moment... prepare to take the Plunge, boyo.
 

24
Supercard Archives / Challenges & Impossibilities, Pt 1
« on: October 14, 2023, 10:02:46 PM »
~As the shot comes up, we find ourselves outside of the multi-story building recently purchased by Peter Vaughn, located right next to his recent creation, the Garden of Betrayal. The building appears to be currently under major development, as construction workers are coming and going from every direction, working on numerous rooms at once. The cameraman seems nervous, focusing a couple of times on the various escape routes in the building, before slowly making his way down to the back where a conference room is located. Inside, his anxiety isn't helped by the swinging of an axe, smashing down into the glossy wood in front of him.~

Cameraman: Jesus, Mary, & Joseph!!

~The swing causes the cameraman to stumble back in the doorway, giving us a brief view of the ceiling... which clearly is going to need some work, as there are missing and damaged panels above. Suddenly, Peter Vaughn is there, leaning over the cameraman, the axe in his hand. He raises his eyebrows.~

Peter Vaughn: Is there a problem, boyo?

~With the axe moved to his right hand, Vaughn reaches down with his left, and after a moment, the cameraman takes him up on it, getting pulled to his feet. It takes a few moments for the camera to orient correctly again, which some people love to see in a movie, while others truly hate the slight bouts of blurriness. But we strive for reality here at Sin City. With the cameraman back on his feet, Vaughn nods to him, then gets both hands on the axe once again, causing him to step back.~

Peter Vaughn: Am I making you nervous? You think, with all these people around, I'd just start carving you up like a Thanksgiving turkey or something? Geez. I figure we've worked together long enough for you to at least trust I won't kill you.

~The cameraman doesn't say a word, but looks out a side window, where we can see the Garden of Betrayal next store. It's a reminder of how Vaughn brought down the warehouse that was standing there while the cameraman was in it. He focuses back on Vaughn, who shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: One miscalculation and I'll be paying for it the rest of my time here. Sigh.

~Vaughn then turns, swinging the axe again, splitting another chunk off of the large conference table that was in this room. While it was showing its age like everything else in this building, it's still a little startling to see it getting destroyed like this. Vaughn pulls the axe free, looking back over his shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: I know what you're going to say. I should have just had the table removed and sold it to some company, right? Well, it was assembled in this room, and it's not small enough to go through the doors. Plus, think of all the shady deals and criminal acts that probably took place here. This WAS part of a lawyer's office, after all. It's best just to cut down everything that was part of that. I mean... I hate lawyers.

~With a little more power behind it, Vaughn brings the axe down again. He's causing a major split near the center of the table, making it larger with each swing. One might think that a chainsaw would work better, but an axe just feels more... personal.~

Cameraman: So, you wanted me to come by, right?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, I'm always interested in seeing you, boyo. But if you mean for Sin City, sure. I've got my own contractual obligations to take care of, don't I? So let's talk about High Stakes 13.

~Vaughn pops the axe free once more, only to turn to the camera with a contemplative look on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: So I easily took down that pretender, Tyler McCulligan, as I think everyone expected. At least, most of them. It's funny how a few people think that a 'regular' match is going to trip me up, like I've gotten too used to Roulette challenges for me to be able to handle a straight-up match. You know, a Three Falls match or an Iron Man match could easily come up on the wheel, too, you know. I have to be prepared for everything.

~He laughs, shaking his head, with the axe set over his shoulder. He doesn't look like Paul Bunyan, but maybe showing a little Patrick Bateman. The destroyed office setting helps.~

Peter Vaughn: And now, I'm set for the final tests of my historic Roulette Title run. I get to once again face Rodrigo Afonso, putting my prized championship on the line once again. By the time High Stakes 13 rolls around, I'll have landed 169 days as champion. That'll surpass Alex Jones and tie me with Kristopher Ryans in third place. To get third all to myself? I've got to take down Rodrigo once again. It's a job I don't like lightly... but it's a job I'm well equipped to handle.

~Vaughn's hands subconsciously tighten on the axe, and you can't help but wonder if any sort of Extreme Rules match could easily get out of hand with this man. After all, he nearly killed a man with a sledgehammer not that long ago.~

Peter Vaughn: Once I make my way past Rodrigo, the path is pretty clear for me. There will only be one or two more opportunities at most for someone to stop my reign from breaking the record. And once I get to day 191, all bets are off, my friend. Because I'll have accomplished every goal I've ever wanted as champion... except for how far I can set the record. I'll have done everything in the division that I had in mind, elevating it to a truly desirable piece of hardware that everyone will want to get their hands on. It will be... complete.

~Vaughn squeezes the axe again, taking a close look at the sharpened blade in his hand, finely honed to do the work it's meant for.~

Peter Vaughn: And I'm not going to let anyone stand in my way.

~Vaughn then spins, slamming the axe down full-power into the table. With a resounding crash, the table separates, falling into two large pieces on the carpeted ground. A few construction workers outside peek their heads in, ensuring everything's good, before departing again. The cameraman, meanwhile, is a little too nervous to move. Vaughn, breathing heavily from that swing, turns back, smiling over his shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: That's all I've got for you. Now scram. I've still got some more... redecorating to do.

~As Vaughn prepares the axe once again, the cameraman takes his cue and quickly leaves the room, probably a little fearful from the intensity that he just saw. The sounds of chopping can still be heard as the cameraman retreats, leading to the shot fading out.~


~The picture returns, although it's a little harder to see what's going on, as bright lights are shining into the lens. We can hear a strong country beat going on as the camera swings down, below the lights, to show a large dance floor. Various people dressed in their best country gear are dancing back and forth, enjoying the music in what is apparently the Neon Cowboy club in Dallas, Texas. That's from reading the sign on the wall, for those not following along. The camera pans along the dancers, all of whom look like they're having a fun, alcoholic-filled time, but none of them are familiar to us. That changes when the camera veers to the right, showing the pool area of the club, where Peter Vaughn can be seen, leaning over the table with a pool cue in hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Eight ball, left corner pocket.

~Vaughn lines the shot up carefully, already having calculated the angle he would need for the shot. He lances the cue forward, smashing the black eight ball and sending it careening into the left corner pocket, having called his shot. Vaughn straightens up, looking pleased as he turns back to Sadie Anderson, who's standing nearby with her own cue.~

Peter Vaughn: Another game? Should I rack them up?

Sadie Anderson: You know, Peter, when you told me you wanted us to go to the Neon Cowboy, I wasn't expecting us to just play pool...

~Sadie smiles at her 'boyfriend', if that term can be applied to someone like Vaughn. While he struggles with feeling full emotions due to trauma in his past, he's been genuinely trying to make things work with Sadie over the last month. It's still a work in progress, however, as he looks at her in confusion.~

Peter Vaughn: But... I thought you'd love this place. It had very strong reviews online as a place to take a date...

Sadie Anderson: I'm sure it did, Peter. But the pool tables are more of a... secondary option here. I know you love games of skill, but... how about we try going out on the dance floor?

~Vaughn turns and looks over his shoulder towards where some country line dancing is going on, then looks back at Sadie, a reluctant look on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Dancing, uh, has never been my thing.

Sadie Anderson: You mean to tell me that the great wrestler Peter Vaughn has two left feet?

~Sadie mockingly speaks with a glint of humor in her eyes. Vaughn, immediately feeling challenged, shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: No, of course not! I've just never...

~A second later, Sadie has pulled the cue from his hand, putting it on the table, and starts pushing him towards the dance floor, not taking no for an answer.~

Sadie Anderson: You only learn by doing, champ. Now let's get out there. Try and follow what everyone else is doing!

Peter Vaughn: But... but...

~The two end up on the country dance floor, where the line dance is still ongoing. Sadie quickly moves into step with them, while Vaughn robotically tries to keep up. He's a step behind for most of it, watching for what one person next to him does before completing it himself. It's a challenge, but he starts to rise to it, working to keep up with Sadie, who clearly has experience on the line. The song ends, with some on the dance floor clapping for the fun they just had. Sadie laughs, grabbing hold of Peter's arm.~

Sadie Anderson: See, Peter? You did great!

Peter Vaughn: No, I was off-step too many times there. I have to focus more, get that secondary bounce when it takes place...

Sadie Anderson: Hey, you know you don't have to do everything perfectly, right? This is all just for fun! You know what fun is, right?

Peter Vaughn: ...

Sadie Anderson: Okay, well, that's something else we're going to work on.

~Sadie laughs again, her happiness bringing a small smile to Vaughn's face as the next song begins. It's "Two Dozen Roses" by Luke Combs & Shenandoah. The slower song brings Sadie closer to Vaughn, and they begin to dance around the floor with other couples. Vaughn is still looking around, trying to mimic others, as Sadie puts her arms around his shoulders.~

Sadie Anderson: Just relax into it and enjoy the moment.

~Vaughn does his best to oblige, with the two continuing their slow dance across the floor as the picture slowly cuts away.~


Relax... and enjoy the moment.

It's a good lesson for everyone to learn. It can be so easy to get overwhelmed with responsibilities and obligations and lose sight of the good moments that are out there, waiting for you. Sometimes you have to revel in the small victories.

Like you, Rodrigo, being able to come back and face me after taking such a horrendous beating from me in our Barroom Brawl.

That was a heck of a fight, wasn't it? I mean, I thought it would go longer, but overall, it certainly was one of the better encounters I've had as the Roulette Champion. Getting to slam your head into the jukebox as "Don't Stop Me Now" plays, well, it's always great to send a tribute back to a great movie like Shaun of the Dead. And giving you the Key Holder on the broken glass? Well, it was a tremendous ending to our conflict, and let's face it, it would have caused a lot of younger wrestlers much like yourself to consider finding a new career.

But you came back. Good for you.  

You even got yourself into the winning column by making Bill Barnhart tap out. It's sad that this once would have been considered impressive, but Barney's been on a rough road as of late. I've beaten him twice now, and I do wish he would just retire and maybe stop damaging his good name. But he still had enough clout for people to get excited for your victory, and thus, we're booked again, this time at one of the biggest shows of the year, High Stakes.

You've been put in the unenviable position of being the man to try and stop my inevitable journey to the top of the Roulette Title rankings, with all of the odds against you. I'm hoping you're going to come at me with renewed determination, and maybe you've even learned a few things along the way. Maybe you can even figure out how to dodge the Key Holder. Not many have, but it IS possible.

Of course, avoiding the Key Holder only removes the threat of ONE of my great maneuvers. You've never felt the Plunge come crashing down on your vulnerable throat, for one thing, or felt the intense impact of the Revenged. From what I hear, it's a terrifying sensation... until you're knocked unconscious. Some have woken up with no awareness of what happened, thinking the match is still going, when I'm already on my way back to the locker room, victoriously holding up my championship.

Yes, you've faced me once, Roddy, but that doesn't mean that you're an 'expert' in Peter Vaughn now. There's a lot more you have to go through before you can claim that title. You've got to be someone like Supreme Machine, who I faced in a series of matches in TPW, or Matthew Knox, who I've battled across the world in various styles of matches. You have to be Jack Washington, the only man here in Sin City who has managed to take me down in singles competition. I hate to say it, Roddy, but you're nowhere close to being any of those men.

Add in the fact that you're going to have to fight me in a completely different style of match, and well, the odds are certainly stacked against you. Some people like it that way. For me, I never want to be seen as the underdog... which is why I've worked long and hard to make sure that's rarely the case. Everyone's going to be expecting me to dominate this contest once again, Rods... and I aim to make sure their expectations are realized.

It's going to be a war for sure. We'll be living up to the show's name, as the stakes, for me, will have never been higher in Sin City since I arrived earlier this year. You have got your chance to make up for your failure at my hand, and a chance to get your first championship here. But I have everything on the line. I've promised that I'm going to be the longest-reigning Roulette Champion in SCW history... and I'm not letting that promise be broken.

I always want to be known as a man of my word, after all.


~Peter Vaughn's favorite vehicle, Gabriella, moves on down the country road, as Peter drives with Sadie sitting beside him, a large smile still on her face.~

Sadie Anderson: I had a great time tonight, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: I'm glad. But it'll be better next time. I'll get in some practice, and when we dance next time, I'll be sure not to step on your toes as many times as I did...

Sadie Anderson: You don't have to worry about that. I got my foot out of the way... most of the time.

Peter Vaughn: Yes, but if I'm going to continue down this path with you, I have to keep improving. I have to keep learning.

~Sadie lets out a sigh, looking away out the window for a moment as they take the turn that heads towards the PMV Ranch.~

Sadie Anderson: You know, sometimes you act like I'm a training module for you. Or maybe a new sparring partner.

Peter Vaughn: What? No, you know that's not it at all...

~Vaughn glances over, worried, but Sadie just gives him a friendly punch in the arm.~

Sadie Anderson: You just remember that I'm very good... at sparring.

~She smiles again, with Vaughn looking forward again, looking a tiny bit thrown off by that statement. As they pull into the parking area of the ranch, Sadie looks questioningly to the right.~

Sadie Anderson: Huh. Whose Cadillac is that?

Peter Vaughn: No idea, I haven't seen it before.

~The two get out of the truck and walk towards the main house, where Keith can be seen, stepping out onto the porch to greet them. He does not look happy.~

Keith Cooper: I'm sorry, Mr. Vaughn, Miss Anderson. I told them that you weren't here and that they should come back, but they refused to leave. They were determined to see you tonight.

Sadie Anderson: Really? Who are they, new ranchers here to harass us?

Peter Vaughn: I'm fairly certain all of our bills have been paid lately, although with Thomas' recent injuries, we COULD have missed one. If so, I'll square it away right now.

Keith Cooper: Nah, I don't think it has anything to do with that. Uh, you'll see, I suppose.

~With that, Keith steps to the side, as Sadie and Peter move forward, both a little puzzled by how their night is ending. Inside, in the living room space, we see three people getting to their feet. One is clearly a lawyer, dressed in a suit despite the still-warm Texas temperatures. You can always smell a lawyer when they get close. Beside him, a younger woman holding a child in her arms gets to her feet, a weak smile growing on her face.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, I'm Peter Vaughn, and this is my ranch. You're here a little past business hours, but then, we don't really HAVE business hours, I guess. So what can we do for you?

~The woman steps closer to Vaughn, studying his face, her smile changing slightly as she considers him. Vaughn, though, has his attention more on the lawyer, knowing where the most trouble is likely to lie.~

Peter Vaughn: Well? What's this about? I guarantee to you that we run an upfront business here. I make sure nobody cuts any corners, because we keep everything in the limits of what the laws tell us we can do. I mean, we might come close to the edge in some cases, but we never go OVER the line...

~Vaughn stops as the woman reaches out, putting a hand to his face. He looks over at her, confused.~

Woman: Yes... the nose is right. The features are there. I... I do think I remember you...

Peter Vaughn: Ummm... well, I'm on TV a lot...

~Sadie gives an annoyed grunt from the side, and Vaughn takes the cue from her, stepping back from the lady so that she's no longer touching his face. The lawyer nods his head and steps forward.~

Brock Hudson: My name is Brock Hudson, Mr. Vaughn. I'm a lawyer and investigator from Nevada. My client here is Carrie Primance. I believe you might remember her.

~Vaughn shakes his head, glancing over at Sadie, whose eyes have narrowed as if she's figured out something.~

Peter Vaughn: To be honest, no, I'm afraid I don't. But I DO see a lot of fans from time to time. Is that what this is about?

Carrie Primance: You really don't remember me? Was I that forgettable? I know we both had a lot to drink... but it was such an amazing night. And such a rewarding one...

~The woman hefts up the child in her arms, lifting him towards Peter.~

Carrie Primance: I'd like you to meet William.

~Vaughn looks down at the child, his nose wrinkling slightly. William may need to be changed after such a long wait.~

Peter Vaughn: Uh... hello, William. You know... if I'm going to do autographs, it's better to be on a picture or trading card or something, it lasts longer...

~Carrie lets out a short laugh, as if believing that Vaughn is kidding around, although the look on his face is complete puzzlement.~

Carrie Primance: William... is your son, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, is he now? Well, that's just.... wait.... WHAT?

~Vaughn's eyes go wide as Carrie once again offers William to him, basically thrusting the child into his arms. Peter takes him unwillingly, although his first instinct was probably to let him drop to the ground. But there are things that even Peter Vaughn wouldn't consider doing. He takes the child, looking at him, and there IS a bit of familial resemblance there, although it's always impossible to tell from just comparing two individuals. He looks back over his shoulder at Sadie, seeking some assistance, but she's already storming out of the room, heading back to her barracks. Vaughn watches her go, holding William, as the room seems to shrink down as the shot cuts away.~


One of the things I always strive for is being prepared for anything. Of course, this is an impossible standard to shoot for. Nobody can be ready for everything that comes their way.

Still, I've made it my trait to be able to react to every single Roulette challenge that's come my way. And you know what, Roddy? If there's one thing I've learned during my long run with the title, it's that they always do thing bigger and more dangerous at the main shows of Sin City. At Into The Void XII, I had to compete in a fierce Triple Threat Ladder match to become the champion. Malachi got himself suplexed through a ladder in that match, and was never really the same afterwards.

Then there was Summer XXXtreme XI, where I once again faced two men in an Ultimate X match. Okay, one was the Troll, but I still had to strain my utmost to survive future Internet Champion Milo Kasey and keep my championship, putting my health on the line from such serious falls off the top of the two ropes above. After that, we have Violent Conduct IX, where Eddie Lyons and I lived up to the shows' name in our Knockouts Only match. I nearly killed that man that night with a sledgehammer, and while part of me does somewhat regret it, the more rational part of me knows that I did what must be done.

But now it's all about High Stakes, Roddy. That means that the Roulette wheel is going to likely have only the most intense, dangerous styles of contests available. If you thought the Barroom Brawl got nasty, just wait until you see what the owners of Sin City likely have in store for us on October 22nd. Hell, with Halloween close at hand, there are just too many insane possibilities to consider.

But here's the thing, Roderick. No matter what they put on that wheel, no matter what crazy, life-threatening task they put before me, we all know that I'll still have more experience in that challenge than you will. Even before Sin City, I had competed in all styles of contests, from Hazardous Ladder wars to barbed wire, triple-steel cage matches. I've shed blood all around the world in my quest to become one of the greatest wrestlers ever, making everyone who ever doubted me pay for their lack of faith.

As much as you've managed in your first few months here, boyo... you're still just a rookie when it comes to competitions such as this. The pressure on you is going to be immense, and sure, you're probably starting to adapt to it. I'm hopeful that you continue to build on it, assuming you survive, and start becoming a generational talent in our business. But you're not there with me yet. You're going to be completely off-balance from whatever they throw at us, and in the end, that's likely going to be your downfall.

It might be getting slingshot into a series of explosive panels, going off as soon as your body adds the tiniest amount of pressure to them.

It might be the crash into the side of a steel cage, cutting open the flesh above your eyes, blinding you from the final impact that's coming your way.

It might be a long fall from a steep height, crash-landing in a horrible position, and being only able to hear the concerned shrieks of the audience in attendance as I come flying down onto you, delivering the Plunge.

Really, it's completely unpredictable which way you're going to fall. The only certainty, Rod, is that you're the one going down.

And I know, you don't want to prepare for that contingency. You don't want to think about how my defeating you a second time can seriously hamper your future in the company. But you really need to look at it from the perspective of those who came before you. Sure, some of them are no longer here, as they were too weak to be able to recover from the thrashings I gave them.

But then there are role models like Kasey, who has achieved so much since I took him down multiple times. There are guys like Lyons, who somehow picked himself up and shook off any brain damage I gave him to keep competing, landing himself a shot to take down Kasey and claim that Internet Championship for himself. There's Washington, Goth, and Carter, all of whom lost to me during 2023, and all of whom are in the main event at High Stakes.

So you can't prepare for what's coming for you, my friend. But you CAN prepare for the fight for survival afterwards. You can still make something of yourself here in Sin City. You can still move on from the Roulette Division and strive for greatness.

But all that will have to come later... because you've still got to hold yourself together for the pain and punishment that's to come.

I can't predict how much damage I'm going to do to you. All I can say is, when it's all over and done with, I'll still be moving forward with my near-record title reign, and you, Alfonso? You'll have to find a way to change the new trajectory of your career and make it great once again.

Hey, I have faith in you, boyo.


~The picture comes up once more, with a very frustrated Peter Vaughn knocking on the closed door to Sadie Anderson's room in the main house.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie? C'mon, open up. We need to talk.

~There's no answer behind the door, as Vaughn knocks again.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, please! You have to understand! This HAS to be some sort of weird misunderstanding, or some sort of money-grabbing swindle. There's no possibility that I have a son! Not a chance in the world! The lawyer's already arranging for a DNA test, and we're going to do one ourselves as well, to make sure nothing's being switched out. It's all going to be worked out!

~Vaughn waits, but there's still no noise from behind the door, other than a very faint sound. It could be crying.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, please... can't you just come and talk to me?

~Finally, we hear movement, as someone comes closer to the door. Peter waits expectantly for it to open... but it doesn't.~

Sadie Anderson: Go... away...

~We only hear Sadie's voice from behind the door, as she then moves further away. Vaughn is at a complete loss, not knowing what he's supposed to do next. Should he break down the door? Take off the hinges? Or should he just leave it alone for now, and hope for better in the morning? Unfortunately, as Vaughn has learned throughout his life... not everything can easily be fixed. He slowly decides to walk away himself, his head down, as the camera slowly fades out.~


25
Climax Control Archives / Pondering The Future, Considering The Past
« on: October 06, 2023, 11:28:52 PM »
~The picture slowly comes up, once again, on an aerial shot of the Garden of Betrayal. Despite the recent droughts in Texas, the garden appears to be doing quite well, thanks to the right plants & trees being chosen. The occasional East Texas downpour helps as well. As the drone shot moves along, covering the large plot of land that Peter Vaughn had converted into his own personal "non-Game of Thrones" tribute, we can see the parking lot coming into view. The cameraman can be seen, if only as a small figure, controlling the drone as it comes closer and closer to him.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, yo! Camera guy! Over here!

~The drone falters for a second, nearly losing control, before the cameraman manages to readjust it and bring it safely into his arms. He turns it manually, pointing it to the side, where Peter Vaughn can be seen, waving his direction. For some reason, Vaughn isn't in the garden. Instead, he appears to be headed inside the multi-floor building to the west of the garden. The cameraman grumbles for a second, before putting the drone inside his van and shutting it off.~

~A second later for us (but at least a minute or two for him), the cameraman is now moving with his handheld camera, moving towards the large building. He takes note of some of the boards on the windows on the first floor, as well as a large "For Sale" sign attached outside. The cameraman then moves inside, where he finds Vaughn, staring into one of the open rooms nearby. Vaughn looks back at him, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, boyo. Good to see you. So what do you think?

~Confused, the camera pans left and right, taking in the building that's definitely seen better days.~

Cameraman: What do I think about what? This abandoned building for sale?

Peter Vaughn: It's not for sale anymore. I just bought it.

~The camera seems to shake for a second, before we're suddenly hurrying towards the door, moving pretty rapidly for a cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, hold on! Wait! Slow down!!

~But the cameraman doesn't listen, and we're quickly back outside the building. He then hurries to the side, getting a little more space, as we see Vaughn coming out after him.~

Peter Vaughn: What was all that about??

Cameraman: I'm not letting you drop another building on me, cabrón. No way. I still have nightmares about the first time!!

~Realization cuts across Vaughn's face. He shakes his head, before stepping forward.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I'm sorry, man. I kind of forgot about that...

~Clearly, the cameraman hasn't, as he was there the day Vaughn blew up the warehouse around him, to be replaced by the Garden of Betrayal.~

Peter Vaughn: But no, man, I'm not going to tear this building down. For one thing, that'd put up a lot of debris and mess with the garden, and I wouldn't allow that to happen. No, boyo, this place here? It's going to be my next project. My continued revitalization of this part of Dallas.

Cameraman: So... you're doing something out of the goodness of your heart, then?

Peter Vaughn: Hah. Hah hah. No. Well, if they want to see it that way, sure, but that's not why I'm doing it. You see, the ranching business is coming along well... but real estate is also a great way to go to diversify your investments. Basically, I see this area making me a lot of money in the near future, and I'm going to capitalize on it. Plus, I needed a place to be the inner office connected to the Garden, for those who don't want to meet outdoors, and I think this could be the place.

~Vaughn turns and looks back at the building, seeing it in a way that none of us can... at least, not yet.~

Peter Vaughn: It's going to take some work, but this building? It'll be the centerpiece of Mechanics Plaza.

~The cameraman has no words. Really, neither do we, although part of that is because we're not there to be able to say them. At any rate, Vaughn turns back to the camera after letting out a breath, keeping the smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about wrestling, shall we? You might think I've had a bit of a... setback, with my tag-team losing to "So Long" Harris and J2Holder. But the truth is, I don't put any stock in tag-teams at this point. They never seem to work out for me, one way or another. Someday, I'm going to change that, but for right now, I've got other things to take care of... the largest one being the continuation of my Roulette Championship run.

~Vaughn signals to his waist, showing where the title would be... if he had brought it with him. Apparently, it's back at the ranch, probably safely locked away. But Vaughn never forgets the feeling of the belt.~

Peter Vaughn: As of this Climate Control, I'll be at 155 days. That's more than James-Huntington-Hawkes III and Johnny Tsunami, both of whom had 127-day reigns. It'll tie me with the 155-day runs of Equinox and my Savior partner, Goth... which I'll surpass the next day. We're crossing names off the list at a rapid pace now. Still ahead of me? Alex Jones at 168 days. Kristopher Ryans at 169 days. Bill Barnhart at 182 days. And Griffin Hawkins, the current leader, at 190 days.

~Vaughn shows the four fingers to the camera as he counts off each person.~

Peter Vaughn: To surpass Griffin, I need to get to the middle of November with that championship still secured around my waist. A little over a month away. But it's doable, my friend. It's very doable. All I have to do is take down Rodrigo Afonso for a second time at High Stakes 13, and then find out who my final opposition will be. I can't wait, to be honest. But there's no harm in training up, is there?

~With that, Vaughn's smile finally fades, as he thinks about what's to come.~

Peter Vaughn: I can't say I'm a big fan of competing in a non-title match, even though it's clear this McCulligan guy isn't deserving of a shot. But it'll still keep me fresh, just like fighting in a tag-team match with some of the best in Sin City. So I'll wipe out McCulligan, making another statement about everyone who gets in the ring with me. Then I'll take Rodrigo for another ride, walk out of High Stakes with my championship, and get set for the final stretch.

~Vaughn gestures behind him, towards the building that he's apparently just bought. He also gestures over towards the Garden, which is already open and getting a lot of foot traffic in the area.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, I'm building an empire. And it's going to be built on breaking every record in my reach. Count on it, boyo.

~Vaughn nods to the cameraman, before heading back towards the building. He's probably already set to start some demo, which the cameraman has no interest in being part of. He still has some PTSD from the last time, after all. He turns and goes back towards his van, moving a little faster than he really needs to, as we slowly fade out.~


It's really amazing how quickly things can change.

One night, I'm defending my Roulette Championship against some of the best young talent in the business. The next night, I'm facing off against the top names in the company in a tag match, with a chance to make a big impact... a chance that unfortunately got mislaid along the way. But then, it won't be the only opportunity, and it certainly won't be a tag match the next time.

But hey, at least I can take pride in the fact that I was one of the last people to fight Michael Harris competitively before he completely lost his marbles. That's something, anyway.

Of course, you go from facing arguably the best in the business... to facing a curtain jerker. Man, wrestling is weird.

You'd think I'd earned more than this, but then, I suppose we did take a loss, ol' Goth and I. Goth didn't take it too well. I'm just planning on rolling with it, making the best of a bad situation. That means I've got to cut down someone from the bottom of the ladder, so be it. I'll do what needs to be done. I always do.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't already starting to look past this newbie and thinking about my next defense against Roddy. I have to remind myself that wrestlers who do that tend to get their asses handed to them... guys like Harris. You have to be coming in with your best, no matter what kind of trash opponent they set out in front of you. It's dangerous to underestimate your opposition, so I'll work my hardest to avoid that... even though it's going to be extremely difficult.

Because everything I've seen regarding this Tyler McCulligan fellow? I honestly don't see much to work with.


~As the screen lightens up again, we hear a very loud noise right near the camera.~

Voice: YEEEEEEEHHHAAAAAWWWWW!!!!

~A gate slams open, and a wild animal smashes past us, storming out onto the field of battle. The mighty beast bucks repeatedly, trying to throw the interloper off of its back so that the monster can then trample him. But the man on its back hangs on tightly with one hand, showing perfect expertise as he takes each motion in stride, staying in place as the count continues upwards. When the buzzer sounds, a number of rodeo clowns charge in from opposite sides as distractions, catching the large bull's attention. The man on back immediately hops off, slipping to the side and jogging over to the fence, making it safely over. As he lands and turns towards the camera, we see his handsome looks for the first time... and for all but the most observant, he is a complete unknown. He grins, though, as he steps forward to shake the hands of the two people who came over to watch him: Peter Vaughn and Sadie Anderson.~

Sadie Anderson: That was amazing, Keith!

Keith Cooper: Aw shucks, Miss Sadie, that was nothing. A baby could have ridden that bull.

Peter Vaughn: Really? That's a baby I don't think I'd ever want to face. It'd be like something out of Pet Cemetery or Children of the Corn.

~All three of them laugh, although Vaughn does seem to be picturing a monster baby riding on top of a bucking bull, and it's not a comforting picture in his mind.~

Keith Cooper: But really, Miss Sadie, you should be out there, too. I've seen you ride. I'm sure you could be a major competitor here if you wanted to be.

Sadie Anderson: Well, that's kind of you to say, Keith, but it's not for me.

Keith Cooper: And what about you, Mr. Pete? You'd be a natural out there, and you've trained yourself just perfectly to be able to maintain your balance, I bet!

Peter Vaughn: Maybe so, Keith, but I'm more than happy keeping my energy focused on smashing down the monsters I have to face in the ring. I don't need to add on any more here. Besides, you make it sound like it's all athletic, but I'm sure it takes a ton of training to pull off some of the things we've seen here tonight at the rodeo. I may own a ranch, but I didn't grow up in the life, and I'll never pretend to have the expertise many of you have.

~A loud buzzer is heard, the start of another rider taking his turn. The crowds cheers and gasps make it hard to tell exactly what's happening, but it's definitely dramatic. Keith looks over that direction, dusting himself off.~

Keith Cooper: Well, I need to get back. Another round is going to be coming up soon, and I need to find out what I need to do next.

Peter Vaughn: Keep making the PMV Ranch proud, Keith!

Sadie Anderson: We're behind you and Roger all the way!

~Keith tips his hat at both of them before walking off, trying (and failing) to hide a slight limp. Let's face it, riding a bull can be painful in certain areas. They watch him go, before Sadie turns and grabs hold of Peter's arm.~

Sadie Anderson: That was very smooth, boosting up his confidence while acting like you didn't think you could do what he does.

Peter Vaughn: ... Isn't that what I'm supposed to be saying? To make him feel even more determined to win?

Sadie Anderson: Oh, it was certainly the right sentiment. But how much of what you said do you actually believe? Did you mean the praise you said for Keith? And do you actually think you could ride that bull?

~Vaughn's quiet for a moment, looking out into the area where another cowboy is trying his luck. We see, in slow motion, the cowboy get bucked off before the time was up, taking a painful fall to the side. Thankfully, the others run in and quickly get him out of there before any permanent damage is done. Vaughn seems to still be thinking it over, though.~

Peter Vaughn: You want to hear the truth?

Sadie Anderson: That's always what I want to hear, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: The truth is... part of me does think I could do that. I'm trained to hang onto a top rope for dear life in battle royals. I'm practiced at getting thrown and coming back from it. So yeah, I think I could do it, but I have no interest in trying it. As for the other part... I don't really know how I feel, Sadie. I say the things I feel like I should... but a lot of time, the connection's not there. It's hard to explain...

Sadie Anderson: Try me.

~The two move off to the side, out of the line of traffic. The rodeo continues all around them, but the two are now separate from all that, as Vaughn tries to put into words the impossible: his broken emotions.~

Peter Vaughn: You know a lot of it, Sadie. How I was tortured and brainwashed in order to make me a better wrestler. How I lost my mind for a while, threatened families, and fought my way back to sanity. But in coming back from that, I've never been... normal. I just don't have the connections to my emotions like I once did. They fade in and out, usually out of reach. I can show Keith support and act like I'm proud of him, but do I feel that way? Or is it all an act? I can be here with you, at the rodeo, and I'm happy... but do I feel happy? Do I feel joy? I know it sounds like an easy question to answer, but... it's not. It never is.

~Vaughn sighs, leaning up against the wall of the stadium where the rodeo is taking place. Sadie stays quiet, knowing that she's wanted him to talk about this for a while now.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you know what it's like, to not be able to trust your own emotions? That's how it is to me. Sometimes I really wonder if I'm just a full-time actor, living my life according to however it's supposed to go, playing a part that I'm not sure belongs to me. Am I happy with it? With all of my wrestling success? With the ranch? With you? I want to say that I am. But I have to say, truthfully, that I'm not sure. I'm never sure.

~Vaughn turns to his side, looking away, and you'd think his rush of speech might lead to something showing on his face. Tears, perhaps, or at least signs of stress. But it's extremely hard to tell, as always, what's really running through Vaughn's mind. But it's easy to know about Sadie, as she pulls him back to face her... and steps into him, giving him a kiss. It's the first one the two have shared, the first true 'connection' between them. As Sadie steps back, Vaughn looks at her questioningly, having not expected that at all.~

Sadie Anderson: Then let me be sure for you, okay?

~All a stunned Vaughn can manage is a nod, as Sadie leans into him, giving him a strong hug that he returns. The two then separate, with Sadie reaching down to grab his hand.~

Sadie Anderson: Now, I believe we were on a date, although I still say taking a rancher to a rodeo for a date is like taking a dress designer to a fashion show. Still, we don't want to miss out on the roping competition, do we?

~Sadie and Vaughn walk off, arm in arm, as Vaughn puts a smile on his face for her. There are still questions behind his eyes, though, questions that even Sadie can't answer. As they depart, a man can be seen in the shadows, watching them. He takes a picture from his phone, then walks off, disappearing into the darkness.~


Sometimes it's the unknown that can trouble you the most, if you're not prepared.

Take the man known as Tyler McCulligan, a virtual unknown competitor in Sin City. We know he's part of a tag-team with Jane McCulligan, and their coach is a man named Charlie McCulligan. So I'm assuming it's a family business. You're the brother to Jane, the son to Charlie? Makes sense to me. So you guys think you can make the McCulligan name mean something. You probably think it already does, since it's at least a second-generation kind of thing, right?

Well, it doesn't, because I've never heard of you. Sorry, but that's just the honest truth from me.

I went to do some research on you, Tyler, to see what kind of a wrestler you were. All I've found so far is that you're a young kid with dreams of glory with nothing to back them up with. I remember seeing Jane's debut... and her getting the tar beaten out of her. That certainly wasn't pleasant. Then you had your own debut, Tyler, against a man I've defeated: Eddie Lyons. I will say, his Lyons Roar DDT looks pretty painful. I've never felt it myself... but you certainly have first-hand knowledge of it, don't you?

Then again, after an impact like that, you might not remember the match at all.

Then you guys went back to the drawing board, right? You said "We came into this as a tag-team, we ought to show what we're capable of together". So you got your little Rattie Pack a match against Finn Whelan and Kayla Richards, where you'd surely bring your best to the table. Except for the fact that they proved to be the very much superior mixed tag-team, wiping the floor with you better than I could with a mop.

And believe you me, I have a lot of experience with a mop.

So now, Tyler, it feels like your dreams are on a precipice, ready to fall into the depths of despair with very little effort on my part. It must suck, thinking that you might only have one more chance to impress the owners of Sin City, and they put you against me: The Mechanic. The reigning, defending Roulette Champion. A dominating singles force who has only lost one time on my own, taking down each and every person that's been thrown against me.

I have to say, boyo, the odds are not looking good for your little family's career run here. It might be time to pull up stakes and find another place to hone your craft, because I'm just not seeing it here in my place. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you'll find the motivation to actually compete in this one, bringing your A game and giving me a good cruiserweight battle. Hey, I'm always motivated to have one of those when I can. I'm definitely looking for a nice tune-up contest before I take on ol' Afonso again.

But I feel like you're going to disappoint me, Ty, and that's truly a bummer... because that just gives me the incentive to teach you a lesson in there. Maybe it'll be a dislocated finger or two. Maybe it could be a serious concussion that plagues you the rest of your life. Anything's possible, really, in this business.

You see, if you come into my ring, I expect you to show me you deserve to be there. Many have here in Sin City, and I've sung their praises afterwards. But there have been those that have failed to impress in any way, shape, or form, and they've ended up on the trash pile out back.

Are you going to end up there, Ty? And are you going to take your sister and dad with you? Family sticks together, after all, am I right? Or will your dad quickly wash his hands of you and walk away once you've proven to be a failure? Maybe your sister can get a better partner, someone worthy of her.

I'm sure there are other trainees out there.

But it's all an unknown, isn't it, Ty? Until you step between the ropes. Then you're going to know far more than you ever wanted to know.

I guarantee it.


~With the rodeo complete, Peter and Sadie are seen leaving through the exit, heading out to the parking lot. They head over to where Vaughn's pride and joy, Gabriella, is parked. He presses a button, automatically opening the passenger side for Sadie, who smiles.~

Sadie Anderson: Opening the door for someone is supposed to be a sign of a true gentleman, although you're actually supposed to do it yourself, not rig up your truck to do it for you.

Peter Vaughn: You know me and gadgets. Sometimes I can't help myself.

Sadie Anderson: So I hear. How are you feeling after our... talk?

Peter Vaughn: It felt... better to get it out there. I know you knew a lot of it, but some parts of it just... needed to be said. As for the kiss....

Sadie Anderson: You'd better not say you had a problem with th...

~Vaughn leans in, giving Sadie a soft kiss back. Sadie, grinning, looks up at him with sparkles in her eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: I really do like you, Peter Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: I like you, too, Sadie Anderson. There's never been anyone like you in my life.

Sadie Anderson: Even from... before?

~Vaughn laughs, even as he remembers those days.~

Peter Vaughn: Before... I was a geeky janitor who was forced into wrestling matches against my will. I've never been what anyone would call "a catch".

Sadie Anderson: Well, you've caught me, Peter. Now it's up to you to keep reeling me in.

~The two smile at each other, with Sade getting into the truck. Peter steps around it, patting Gabriella on the top as if to remind the truck not to get jealous before getting in. They drive away, as that mysterious individual from earlier steps out again, watching them. He gets out his phone, making a call.~

Man: It's me. You get the pictures? Is it him?

~The picture shifts, showing a woman sitting in a large chair, rocking back and forth as she looks at the phone in front of her. It has a picture of Vaughn and Sadie on it, although it was taken in haste without a flash, so it's not exactly a professional shot.~

Woman: It could definitely be him. Thank you for tracking him down. I'll handle it from here.

~The woman hangs up the phone and gets up, stretching for a moment before walking over to a crib. She reaches inside, pulling out a young child and holding him in her arms.~

Woman: Great news, William. I think we finally tracked down your father.

~The woman continues to rock the child as the picture slowly fades out.~



26
Climax Control Archives / Memories Of The Past Can Shape The Future
« on: September 22, 2023, 08:25:09 PM »
~We once again return to the Garden of Betrayal, a rather fabulous park that Peter Vaughn has created in the midst of what was once a large warehouse space. To be exact, we're actually outside of the garden, in the parking area that is the sole remaining piece from the original building. A van pulls into the lot, parking in its usual spot, shown from a drone shot from above. Yes, it's strange the cameraman is filming himself arriving, but you can never have too much extra footage nowadays, thanks to digital storage. The drone comes downwards, as the van door opens, with the cameraman stepping out to catch it.~

~The shot then changes to more of a traditional one, as the cameraman has now got the mounted camera on his shoulder in place. He checks a few items in front of him, sticking them away in various pockets.~

Cameraman: Let's see. Gatorade, lemon-lime flavor. Granola bars. Extra camera batteries. Okay, I think I'm about ready for another hike. Damn job.

~The camera shakes for a second, as the door gets slammed shut. The cameraman then turns, taking a deep breath before heading towards the entrance to the garden. That's when he hears a car horn behind him, sounding extremely close.~

Cameraman: OH GOD!!

~The cameraman frantically spins... but the car has already stopped. The passenger door opens, with Vaughn nodding to the woman in the driver's seat before hopping out. She then pulls away, as Vaughn jogs over to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, man. Sorry, did we startle you? I just didn't want you to hike all the way in there when we can do this just as easily out here.

Cameraman: That... actually sounds like a wonderful idea.

Peter Vaughn: We can just film right here at the gate, right?

~Vaughn walks over to the gate, but the cameraman instead turns, focusing again on the car that's now leaving quickly down the street. He then turns back to Vaughn, zooming in on him to get a close-up.~

Cameraman: Wait. Was that... Gwen? From the head office?

Peter Vaughn: She prefers Gwendolyn. And yes, she does work for Sin City, just like we do.

Cameraman: But, I thought... aren't you seeing Sadie Anderson now?

Peter Vaughn: Sure, I see Sadie all the time.

Cameraman: No, I mean...

~Vaughn looks puzzled for a second, before he finally understands. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: C'mon. Can't coworkers of different sexes share a car ride without people getting suspicious? Besides, Gwendolyn is 20 years older than me at least.

Cameraman: So... why are you in a car with her, then? Is this like when I saw you in the park talking to that other SCW guy, Steve something?

Peter Vaughn: I told you, that wasn't Steve. It was a, uh, lookalike, that's all.

Cameraman: I don't think so. I think you're trying to make lots of connections now in SCW. But why? What's pushing you to do it now?

~Vaughn sighs, before leaning an arm on the gate.~

Peter Vaughn: Because the squeaky wheel gets the grease. I mean, look at things so far? I went from defending my Roulette Title early in the show to being in the main event against some of the top headliners in the company. I'd say it's working, don't you?

Cameraman: I suppose... or it could be completely unrelated.

Peter Vaughn: I don't believe in coincidences.

~The wrestler takes a moment to get himself focused, before turning towards the camera and slipping a smile back on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: That said, I'm still doing everything I've said I was going to do. By the time the show gets here, I'll have surpassed 140 days as the SCW Roulette Champion. Fifty days left to the record, a path that I'm sure is going to get more and more treacherous. Maybe, in a way, this tag-team match is Sin City's way of trying to break that path. After all, if Goth and I defeat Harris & J2H, well, that'd make us the defacto #1 contenders soon, wouldn't it? And if I get past them all and win the Heavyweight Championship, I assume they'd force me to vacate the Roulette Title, leaving it for 'less experienced' competition.

~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders, not exactly impressed with who would be following after him in the Roulette division.~

Peter Vaughn: But that's not something to worry about at this point. As always, I'm taking my fights one at a time, and the next one's certainly a big one. The best of the best of Sin City will be facing off on Climax Control, with two men who can't stand each other facing off against two Saviors. If you're a betting man, I'd say the choice is pretty obvious. If you're not, then save your money, because the house always wins, right?

~Vaughn laughs to himself, even though the cameraman doesn't respond. It's a strange comment, after all. Vaughn notices this, shrugging to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: Anyhow, the journey continues, doesn't it? I look forward to one of the greatest battles I could ask for, with a chance to prove myself by throwing down those at the top of the mountain. It's going to be a hell of a war, guaranteed, and once it's over, I think a lot of people will have more respect for the Saviors and our future here in Sin City. With that, I'll talk to you later, boyo. I've got some more business to take care of inside the Garden.

~Vaughn does a quick nod of his head, almost a half-bow, before departing through the gate. He's quickly jogging up the path, as the cameraman moves, following him for a few steps before coming to the quick realization that there's no way he's keeping up. The cameraman then turns back to the van.~

Cameraman: Short day today. I wonder if I can tell them it took 3 hours again...

~The cameraman gets to the van, suddenly cursing as he realizes he's still filming. He then shuts down the camera, sending us quickly into darkness.~


~The picture comes back up, showing us a beautiful view of the East Texas landscape. The shot moves across the land, showing us a cloud of dust moving in the distance. The drone moves closer, revealing that we're seeing a small herd of cattle being directed across the plains by several ranchers, each riding on either side of the herd. They all seem to be trained well at their jobs, as not a single calf is escaping their attention. The drone moves down to the far left, where two specific riders can be seen, keeping up with the group. One appears to have ridden horses all her life, looking completely confident. The other is less steady, although no less in control, pulling the reins tightly.~

Sadie Anderson: Your grip's a little tight there, Peter. Remember, trust in your horse, and he'll never steer you wrong.

Peter Vaughn: So you say. Your "steed" didn't try to bite you earlier.

~Vaughn readjusts his grip, while still keeping a wary eye on the horse, who seems to snicker as if he understands.~

Sadie Anderson: Niels is one of our horses with more... personality than most. But he'll get you where you need to go.

Peter Vaughn: I still prefer ATV's.

Sadie Anderson: That would just spook the cattle, you know that.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, you're right. But next time, as ranch owner, I pick the horses, got it?

~Sadie laughs, seeing no problems with this. She pulls her horse a little closer to Vaughn's as they continue to ride, smiling at him. He returns it the best he can, still trying to work through his own feelings, as lessened as they are. Sadie then glances to the right, spotting something.~

Sadie Anderson: We're starting to lose one. I guess she can't wait until we get to the fresh grass around the next bend.

~The camera shows that one of the cattle is, indeed, slowing down, having turned to the left to consider a patch of grass there. Sadie, the experienced ranch hand, immediately begins to move back that way to corral her.~

Sadie Anderson: I'll be right back.

Peter Vaughn: That's what they all say.

~Sadie quickly moves off with her horse, Lightning, taking no time in getting over to the 'runaway'. She starts to run around the cow, startling it and causing it to head back towards the pack. Vaughn watches as his horse trots on, marveling at her skill on the back of a horse. He smiles, knowing that he's lucky he found her. That's when there's a hiss nearby, from underneath, and suddenly the horse is bucking upwards violently, standing up on its hind legs.~

Peter Vaughn: Whoa! Neils! NEILS!!!

~Vaughn spins, grabbing at the horn on his saddle, but his fingers slide off of it, just barely unable to get a grip. In a split second, Vaughn is airborne, thrown from the back of his panicking horse, flying backwards towards the ground behind them. Instinctively, Vaughn's wrestling training kicks in, as he works to flatten out to take the bump across more of his body. This is very effective in a wrestling ring. It's less effective on the uneven, rocky ground of East Texas. Peter hits hard... and the lights go out.~


~After a few seconds, Peter sits up, rubbing the back of his head. He takes a deep breath, calming himself, as he checks for any other obvious injuries.~

Peter Vaughn: Do they still send horses to glue factories? Or was that a myth? Either way, Neils, you're in for it now...

~Peter then stops, looking upwards in surprise, as a hand is lowered down to him, offering to help him up. After a moment, Peter accepts, grabbing hold with his right hand and getting pulled to his feet. He stares at the man in front of him, considering his options, as the man smiles back at him.~

Man: Hello, Peter. It's good to see you.

Peter Vaughn: Hey... Dad. It's been a while. I haven't seen you since...

Mr. Vaughn: The funeral? I wasn't exactly looking the best then, was I?

~Peter's deceased father gives a glowing grin to his son, grabbing him by the shoulders before pulling him into a hug. Peter, clearly out of his element, just accepts it, hugging his father back.~


You never know what this world is going to throw at you next, do you?

For instance, I can state with certainty that when I put down the challenge of Afonso, I wasn't expecting to be hit with the news that I would not only be wrestling again a week later, but it'd be against two of the best talkers in the business? I mean, how else can you explain Michael Harris and J2H convincing management to allow them to keep fighting in the main event of PPV after PPV? The guys have silver tongues, no doubt. They're lining up for a third bite of the apple, aren't they? Using Goth and I as a way to keep their feud going, even though everyone in the audience knows that there's no way these two can work together.

I'd say it was like oil and water coming together, but let's face it, both are heavily oiled down at this point.

So Michael Harris beat J2H for the championship at Violent Conduct. Before that, J2H beat Harris for the belt at Summer XXXtreme. So does that make them both winners... or both losers? It's really open to the viewer's interpretation, isn't it? Neither was able to hold onto the gold when they had the champion's advantage, and they even knew what type of match they were going to be in beforehand. There's a certain amount of planning one has to do to ensure that they stay a champion in this universe.

Both of their plans failed. Does that make them failures?

Now, me personally? I don't want to think of them as losers or failures, because then, a victory over them would mean a lot less. I want to add them as worthy names to my List of the Vanquished, placing them alongside some of the greats I've taken down over the last few years. Former World Champions like James Raven, Matt Knox, Mac Bane, all comparable to names like Harris and J2H.

By the way, James, congrats on successfully shortening your name like that. You saved the announcers a lot of syllables in the long run, I'm sure they appreciate it. Plus, there are enough bird-named wrestlers floating around there. Best to just forget about the Hawkes part, anyway.

Really, Harris should take your example and run with it. Immortal Michael Harris. IMH.

Nah, sounds like a venereal disease, never mind.

Besides, no man is immortal. Time will catch up to all of us. No one's ever made it out of life alive, after all. But can a person be remembered for all time? That's certainly possible. I think Harris and J2H both have a chance of making that happen, maybe Michael more than initials boy. But I haven't given up on my own prospects of that. I'm a six-time World Champion, and very interested in adding to that number. I've taken the Roulette Title to heights that no one expected.

And now, Goth and I can be remembered by tearing down the terrible two of Sin City in one fell swoop, blackening their records right before their eyes as the Saviors rule supreme.

That would definitely shock the two 'main eventers', wouldn't it? Having their own challenge tossed back in their faces? Oh, the look in their eyes when they realize what's going to happen to them... I really can't wait...


~The embrace is slowly released, with Peter stepping away and looking around the area. It looks like the same Texas plains that they had been herding the cattle through, but there's now no sign of the cattle nor the herders. In fact, it's strangely quiet, with only a small breeze rolling through the grass. After a second, Peter turns back to his father, who is waiting patiently for the expected questions.~

Peter Vaughn: So... am I dead then? Because I've been to Hell, and this sure doesn't look like that place, but I can't see them letting me head upstairs...

Mr. Vaughn: No, son. You're not dead. I'm not here to take you anywhere. You just took yourself a nasty spill off of your horse and hit your head, that's all.

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh. So it's just brain damage. Great. Good to know.

Mr. Vaughn: Hah! You think a fall like this could do any more damage than all you've put yourself through inside that squared circle of yours?

Peter Vaughn: ... Touche. So I'm not dead, and I'm not, like, comatose... I'm just... where again?

Mr. Vaughn: Let's just say that your fall knocked you into a slightly different plane of existence for a short time and leave it at that, okay? You always did tend to overthink things, son. Why not just enjoy the ride?

~Peter can only shake his head at this, hearing his father's eternal optimism. It helped his dad survive when his wife left him to be the only parent of a young boy, working as a janitor under excruciating conditions in order to keep food on the table for them. For a time, it felt like something he had passed on to Peter... but wrestling took care of that, for the most part.~

Peter Vaughn: So what's the next part of the ride, then?

Mr. Vaughn: Just hang out with me here, son. That's all I can ask. It's beautiful country around here, isn't it?

~Mr. Vaughn looks around in wonder, apparently enjoying the sights. Peter can't help but smile, remembering that his father spent the majority of his life behind glass windows in city apartment buildings.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. It really IS nice here. When I heard the ranch here was for sale and saw the land, I had to have it.

Mr. Vaughn: And you made sure to swindle that family out of it as cheaply as possible, didn't you, with that inspector you paid off, what's his name...

Peter Vaughn: ... Corsairs. But they were lucky I helped them out. Nobody else was buying this place.

Mr. Vaughn: That's a lie, and you can't tell lies to me here, son. I know pretty much everything I need to know.

~The mood has taken a considerable shift downwards, with Peter rubbing at the back of his head, suddenly uncertain. He shakes it off, though, as he's still proud of his ranch.~

Peter Vaughn: I've gotten pretty successful in life, Dad. I've brought fame and success to the Vaughn family name, something it hadn't seen in a long while.

Mr. Vaughn: Yes, well, I've watched a lot of what you've done for your 'success'. It hasn't been that pleasing to watch, kiddo, I don't mind saying. Many times, I've thought to myself that I had raised you better than that...

~Both men are silent, as Peter can only look away, controlling his frustration at his father's words only by clenching his fists closed, then opening them again. But Mr. Vaughn isn't through, as he puts a hand on Peter's shoulder.~

Mr. Vaughn: But I've seen lately that you've made some changes. You're starting to care again. You've been there for your half-brother Thomas, and for my own daughter, Samantha. You've even started to form something with your girl, Sadie, something I didn't know if I'd ever see happen. And you've been showing the world that you can be successful even without someone else's help, staying a champion with minimal interference. You've been making strides, son. And I just want you to know... I'm proud of you.

~This one shakes Peter a bit, as he wasn't expecting things to go that way. He actually wipes a hand across his eyes, as if clearing them. Mr. Vaughn smiles, seeing a version of his son that hasn't been around that often. Peter then straightens up, blinking a few times before regaining control.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry. Ahem. Some dust must have gotten blown into my eyes.

Mr. Vaughn: Uh huh.

Peter Vaughn: I will say, Dad... I do miss you. I know we didn't get along the best near the end, but I thought we did reconnect on that cliff that day. Our final talk, although I did most of the talking, didn't I?

Mr. Vaughn: I'm just glad you didn't push me off the edge of that cliff, you weren't exactly stable in those days, were you?

~Both men share a laugh, which strangely almost sounds like an echo. Clearly, Peter got his laugh from his father's side of the family. They finish, with Peter looking around again, while again rubbing the back of his head.~

Peter Vaughn: So what's next? We just sit here enjoying the scenery while they put Humpty Dumpty together again back in the real world?

~Mr. Vaughn's smile fades away, as he lets out a sigh.~

Mr. Vaughn: You know it's never that easy, son.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. Yeah, I kind of figured.

~There's a sudden pick-up in wind as both men turn to the west, taking in what appears to be an oncoming storm. The black clouds move extremely fast, even for a Texas squall, heading right towards them.~

Mr. Vaughn: You can enjoy the peace of the light, but you'll always have to deal with its opposite: the dark.

Peter Vaughn: ... Bring it on. Vaughns don't back down.

~Peter squares off, preparing himself, as the storm gets closer... closer... and is upon them.~


Everyone's got a little darkness in them, don't they?

Just look at Goth. The Messiah of Pain. He's certainly led a colorful life in his run through Sin City, hasn't he? A two-time SCW Heavyweight Champion. A four-time Roulette Champion. A two-time Internet Champion. Tag Champion. Mixed Tag Champion. There's very little that Goth hasn't done in this company. And yet, since his return, I've felt a lot of reluctance from others to accept his talents. They haven't considered him a threat to them, nor have they taken the danger of the Saviors seriously, as if Mac and Kenny were the true hearts of the group.

That's precisely the reason that they're all going to fall to the Saviors down the road. Overconfidence. Overlooking the competition.

It can make people like Mikey and Hawkes vulnerable.

Of course, the #1 thing we have going for us is the fact that we're actually a team. Okay, sure, I've been rather... interested in moving up towards the Heavyweight Title, the same as Goth. But doesn't mean we can't be a dangerous duo, a terrifying team-up, an unstoppable juggernaut together. We've worked together before, to great success, and we've fought each other in the past as well, so we tend to know each other's strengths and weaknesses, just like our opponents.

We'll also not be looking to get in that cheap shot on our teammate like Harris & J2H probably will be.

I mean, c'mon, you guys KNOW you don't trust each other. J2H badly wants to reclaim that championship that he only held for a short time before Harris snatched it back. Harris is frightened that J2H can once again dethrone him, and will surely do anything in his considerable power to make sure that happens. Is anyone out there really not expecting one of them to turn on each other at Climax Control? Please. It's almost guaranteed to happen.

The only real question is will it happen before the match, leaving us in a handicap situation? During the match, with someone ko'ing their 'partner' and leaving them for the pin? Or can they somehow hold it together until after the bell, blindsiding the other when they least expect it? Honestly, I don't expect the last one to happen. Their competitive spirits are too strong.

When Harris is standing on the apron, demanding the tag because he thinks J2H is getting his ass handed to him by Goth, J2H is going to be resenting it. When J2H starts laughing after I rub Harris' face into the mat with little respect or remorse, Harris is going to remember it. And when one of them inevitably screws up and 'accidentally' slaps the other, things will fall apart. And us Saviors? We'll capitalize, like we always do. And the egg will be all over the faces of the "main eventers" as they are embarrassed on national television.

Then again, would either of these guys ever allow themselves to feel embarrassment? Probably not.

But inside, they'll feel that shame. They'll think to themselves, if I had just WORKED with that asshole in my corner, perhaps we could have avoided this. They'll think, it didn't have to end this way.

And then, when one passes out to the Gothic Dream while the other takes the Plunge, they won't be thinking anymore. At least for a while.

But I hope it helps motivate them in their main event match at High Stakes. Because whoever survives that encounter? They're going to have to deal with us again. Soon.


~It's basically like a Texas Twister. The tornado swirls around both men, cutting off their view of everything else, as they stand in the eye of the storm. Peter faces it head-on, showing no fear, ready for anything.~

Peter Vaughn: So what now? We fly up to Oz or something?

Mr. Vaughn: No, Peter. We stay here. Everyone must face their own darkness, as I know you do every day of your life. It doesn't have to control you. You don't have to feel fear.

Peter Vaughn: Fear? Hah! I don't feel fear. As for it controlling me...

~The wild winds suddenly seem to be shrinking, passing right through the two men. Mr. Vaughn leans away from it, but Peter just puts out his hand, seemingly containing the storm right on his palm. He stares at it, feeling its power.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm the one who's been in control of the darkness for the last two years. And look what I've done with it.

~As Peter holds up the 'storm', we see a championship belt shine across his midsection, locking into place. He smiles, liking the feel of the gold, as he continues to hang onto the spinning cloud in front of him. But his father doesn't look pleased, as he steps forward, grabbing hold of Peter's other arm.~

Mr. Vaughn: No, son. You only THINK you've been in control. But nobody can control the darkness. Not even you.

~Suddenly, the storm starts growing again, despite all of Peter's attempts to control it. It begins to spin just around Peter, as if threatening to consume him, even as he stretches out his free hand, fighting it. But just as suddenly, Peter's clear of it... pulled out of it by his deceased father, who clings to his other arm, keeping him from falling back inside.~

Peter Vaughn: I... I can still take it, Dad. I can still bring it under my control...

Mr. Vaughn: Or you can let it go for now, Peter. Let it be. Use your gifts the way they were meant to be used. Your soul does not need to be black for your waist to be golden. Trust me on this, son. A father always knows.

~Confused, Peter looks back at his dad, while his left hand reaches once more for the 'storm'... before dropping back to his side. The darkness spins away, leaving them both, although it's not going anywhere. It'll always be there, in some form or fashion. After watching it depart, Peter looks back at his father, who's still clutching at his right hand.~

Mr. Vaughn: You still have greatness ahead of you, Peter. And you know I'll be watching.

Peter Vaughn: ... Dad...

~The father smiles, a grin that Peter has secretly longed to see for at least a year now. He steps towards his father, wanting one final embrace of his closest family...~


~And that's when Peter Vaughn wakes up, looking up into the clear, blue sky. He looks to his left... seeing Neils the horse leaning over, munching at something it found on the ground. To the right... he sees a worried-looking Sadie, still holding his right arm.~

Sadie Anderson: Thank God you're awake. Just stay down. We've got help coming, okay?

Peter Vaughn: ... I'm okay. Let me just...

~Despite Sadie trying to stop him, Peter sits up, immediately feeling the pain from the back of his head. He checks there, feeling a lump, but not finding much in the way of blood, which is a relief, really.~

Sadie Anderson: You took a pretty bad bump, Peter. You scared the hell out of me.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, I've had a lot worse. I should tell you about this time on the top of a Hell in a Cell cage... well, it didn't end well for me... I survived that. I'm sure I'll survive this. Just help me get up, this ground is making me feel itchy...

~Peter ignores the pain, working his way up, with Sadie giving him a helping hand the rest of the way up. A few other cowboys nearby quickly start talking to each other, with one holding over a handful of cash to a second one. They clearly had bets on whether Peter would stay down. A sucker bet, the guy who lost his money deserved it. Peter, meanwhile, makes his way over towards Neils, glaring at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Ever had horsemeat stew? I've heard it can be a delicacy.

Sadie Anderson: You'd never do that, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, really? Why not?

Sadie Anderson: Because you'd have to spend money replacing the horse, for one thing.

~Peter considers that for a moment, before nodding... and then immediately regretting the nod.~

Peter Vaughn: Ow... okay, you're right, Sadie. But I'm going to be switching horses. Hey, who over there bet against me? It's time to switch.

~One of the cowboys groans before riding over, reluctantly getting off his horse.~

Sadie Anderson: Are you sure you'll be okay to ride back?

Peter Vaughn: Don't worry about me, Sadie. I always bounce back, no matter what goes down. I guess... it kind of runs in the family.

~Sadie, confused, doesn't say anything, even as Peter stares in the distance at the lowering sun, taking in the colors that are displayed in the sky. We slowly fade out.~


And now, the stage is set. Two of the greatest superstars to ever come to Sin City... vs. Michael Harris and J2H. What a war this is likely going to be.

I can't wait to see what the two of you can bring to the battlegrounds. I can't wait to see everything you do fail.

It's the night of the Saviors. It's the beginning of the end for the top title being out of our grasp.

It's going to be the highest rated match in Sin City Climax Control history.

And in the end? It'll be a Plunge for the ages.

See you then, boyos.
    

27
Climax Control Archives / Making An Impression
« on: September 15, 2023, 06:44:18 PM »
~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.~

28
Supercard Archives / Burying The Competition, P2
« on: August 24, 2023, 06:05:33 PM »
~As the shot comes up, we get an aerial view from a drone of the recently refurbished lot that once held an abandoned warehouse. An incredible amount of work has been done on this location, removing all the debris and adding in grass, trees, a brick path, and what appears to be a pavilion in the center of the lot. It truly stands out, considering that there are still buildings located on either side of the lot. The drone heads lower, focusing on the still-functional parking area outside of the lot, where we see our usual cameraman piloting the drone via remote. He catches it upon his return, looking into the lens for a few seconds, a rare occurrence for us.!

Cameraman: Didn't see him once. Hmmm.

~The cameraman turns and puts the drone away inside the van, making sure it's facing out so we can still see him as he reaches around and gets his usual gear, popping it up on his shoulder. The feed immediately shifts to the hand-held camera, as the cameraman shuts the van door, making sure that it's locked. There is some expensive equipment in there, after all, given to him by Sin City Wrestling. Losing it would be a pretty severe shot to his paycheck, that's for sure. He turns and walks towards the lot, taking in the newly-hoisted entrance gate. It's not locked, so the cameraman swings it open and steps inside, looking around.~

Cameraman: Vaughn? You in here?

~The cameraman pans around in confusion, as it's never been hard to track down Vaughn before. After a few moments, we can hear the cameraman triggering his cell phone.~

Cameraman: Hey, I'm here at the site at the usual time, but I don't know where Peter Vaughn is. No, he didn't leave me any messages. Have you heard from him recently? ... That's strange. Yes, I know I'm supposed to get some content from him... wait, how is it MY fault if he's not here? Well, can't we just use old footage that never aired? ... No, you're right. Okay. OKAY! I'll look around some more. Hey, I'm not getting blamed for... hello?

~The phone call clearly disconnected, and not on the cameraman's end, either. A few choice curse words are conveniently bleeped out, although you DO hear something about someone's mother. After that, the cameraman starts into the lot, opting to take the brick path that Vaughn recently got laid down.~

Cameraman: You better be in here somewhere, Vaughn... or you'd better have a good reason for no-showing me...

~The cameraman moves off, heading down the red-bricked road, with no intentions of finding a scarecrow, a tin man, or a cowardly lion. He just wants a champion. We fade out, with the question left for everyone to ponder: where is Peter Vaughn?~


~After the quick cutaway, we find ourselves... seemingly in the backstage area of an arena, from the looks of things. It's hard to differentiate exactly which one, as Sin City has made the journey to so many over the years. They all tend to blend together over time. The picture moves along the hallway, making its way around a corner to the right, where we see a very familiar individual standing with his back against the wall. Mac Bane, the former SCW World Heavyweight Champion, takes a long drink from one of his favorite beverages, letting out a satisfied sigh right afterwards. The sound of footsteps reaches his ears, causing Bane to push off the wall and straighten up, turning to his left. That's where he comes face-to-face with the current SCW Roulette Champion, Peter Vaughn.~

Mac Bane: Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Mac.

~The two men consider each other, both in friendly and competitive ways. They've fought multiple times for titles before, neither backing down from the challenge, but they've also allied up on more than one occasion, including most recently in the Saviors of SCW. After a few seconds, Bane gives Vaughn a nod.~

Mac Bane: How have you been doing, Pete?

Peter Vaughn: Could be better, could be worse. I've had a lot of stuff weighing me down lately, keeping me grounded. I'm trying to work through some solutions, but it's been... difficult.

Mac Bane: Talk to me. Maybe I can help.

~Vaughn puts a hand on the wall, taking a moment to think things through.~

Peter Vaughn: I think it has to do with my future in SCW, Mac. You know I joined this company mainly as a favor for you. I also thought I'd get a match with Matt Knox, but that never happened. Since then, I seem to have gotten into a rut. The only competition that keeps coming for me is the guys who should be thinking about retirement and the guys still shaking off their training diapers.

Mac Bane: And you've shown them how good you are by keeping that Roulette Championship.

~Bane points down at Vaughn's title, which is around his waist. Strange, as it wasn't there before... or maybe it was, and we just didn't notice it. Either way, Vaughn pats it, showing his love for the gold.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm proud of this championship, don't get me wrong. I'd love to beat Griffin Hawkins' 190-day run. I'm already at 108 days, so it's certainly possible. But I can't help but wonder, am I just treading water? Should I get more serious about moving forward towards the top of the wrestling world and aim for that World Championship, just as Goth is?

Mac Bane: You threatened by Goth, your own teammate in the Saviors?

Peter Vaughn: No, no, of course not. I respect Goth, you know that. He's done a lot in SCW, he deserves everything coming to him. I just... I feel like I need to start breaking through, you know?

~Bane nods knowingly, before stepping forward towards Vaughn, looking him dead in the eye.~

Mac Bane: You're right, Pete. You need to start pushing yourself more. You've only got a little time left.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I don't know about that, I'm still working in my prime right now...

~Bane shoves Vaughn back against the wall, surprising him.~

Mac Bane: You're going to need to focus, Pete! You need to find that intensity that made you a six-time World Champion, and you must channel that intensity into your future if you want to be the best!

Peter Vaughn: I haven't lost that, Mac, you know that...

Mac Bane: You're dreaming if you think you haven't lost something. Now get yourself up. Now.

Peter Vaughn: What do you...

Mac Bane: WAKE UP, VAUGHN!! NOW!!!

~Bane then rears back, swinging straight at Vaughn's face. He instinctively tries to duck out of the way...~


~... and wakes up, banging his head against the edge of the dark wall behind him. He winces, rubbing his head. The camera shot has changed dramatically, as we now are watching Vaughn through a night-vision shot. If you think he looks creepy in normal light, you probably won't see this as much of an improvement. Vaughn sits up, suddenly realizing that water is splashing around him. He quickly gets back to his feet.~

Peter Vaughn: Right... the underground reservoir collapsed, trapping us in here. And of COURSE it must be raining outside. Hey, old man? You still around here? Old man?

~Vaughn reaches into his pocket, feeling around, and manages to find an old lighter that the old man had given him earlier. He flicks it a few times, finally getting a flame to appear, and turns to his left. Nothing. He turns to the right... and the old man is right there, looking at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Geez! Man, why didn't you say anything?

~The man just shrugs.~

Older Man: La Muerte.

Peter Vaughn: I told you, we're NOT going to die down here! I've had too much success lately to end up a mythical disappearing act for those YouTube crime videos to talk about. Now, c'mon. I'm curious as to where, exactly, this water is coming from.

~Vaughn starts walking down the reservoir, with the old man sullenly stepping in line behind him. It's clear he's already given up hope. Vaughn, though? He's just getting started.~


You never know what can motivate you to be a survivor, an achiever... a winner.

I've had plenty of motivations push me through life. I've had the fact that I lived up poor under a single custodian father push me to fight for greatness as I got older. I've had positive reinforcement from men like The Accelerator, may he rest in peace, and negative reinforcement like my former manager, Jonathan Barrows. I've fought for respect, I've fought for money, and I've fought for power.

I must admit, though, I don't think I've ever been motivated by a Twitter post.

Sorry, an X post. Damn, I hate that name.

So, Edds, let me get this straight. You're mad at me because I said I would be lenient as the referee in your match against Jaycee? Did you want me to come in saying that if I see you put a single toe out of line, I'd disqualify you and steal away your opportunity for a championship match? Would that have made you feel better? It's not like it mattered anyway.

You should come to understand that for Roulette matches, the referee is rarely that much of a factor. Sure, there are a few styles of match where he or she will still be needed to make the count for the pinfall or decide on the submission. But for the majority of the matches I've had, the referee has just been there to raise the hand of the winner, aka me.

Now, I could have come into my position as referee and immediately attacked someone, say, yourself, and decided the winner. Then again, when special refs do maneuvers like that, they usually end up in a triple threat, so it made zero sense for me to get involved that way. Instead, I did what I said I was going to do. I didn't get too involved, I stayed lenient, and you got the victory.

If that hurts your honor with the mere thought of you bending a rule, well, you've got a lot to learn about the wrestling business.

You see, Eddie, in my career, I've done a lot of wild things to win. I've used tranquilizer guns. I've used a rigged doorway that sent 30,000 volts into my opponent. I've used duct tape to its fullest potential. I've set my opponents up and sent them spiraling down, with one awe-inspiring plan after another. But I have to admit, that hasn't rang as true in Sin City, ironically enough.

Here, Edz, I've mostly got the victories by simply... winning the match. Odds are, that's all I'm going to need for a wet behind the ears rookie like you, too.

I mean, I'll do what's allowed, depending on the match type that's chosen. If there are no rules, there are none to break. It's not like I have any personal code of honor holding me back from doing what needs to be done... like certain other wrestlers. So do you have it in you, I wonder, Eds? To take that step into the unknown, and take the fight to me with anything and everything at your disposal?

Or will your motivation to be honorable supersede your motivation to be a winner?

Time will tell, I suppose.


~Lighter in hand, Vaughn moves down the side of the wall, checking regularly for any streams of water. He begins to find them, poking through vents hidden in the decorations left behind by the Mayans. It shouldn't be that big a surprise that some of the mouths on the wall are the ones where the vents are.~

Peter Vaughn: Nobody can resist a vomiting water sight gag, I suppose.

~The water's beginning to rise in the reservoir, as it's doing exactly what it's intended to do: store water for the future needs of a civilization. It's the main reason Vaughn came here, as he wanted to see the techniques used, and get a feel for what would work for him back on his PMV Ranch in Texas. Unfortunately, after a cave-in, Vaughn has been getting a much closer view of the workings of the reservoir than he was ever wanting. He studies the carvings on the wall, considering them more closely.~

Peter Vaughn: Interesting, how they loop the figures around the way they do. Could that mean something, old-timer? Do you think this could signal some way for us to get out of here?

~Vaughn looks back at the older man, who is just shaking his head.~

Older Man: Voy a morir aquí abajo con este americano ignorante. Ni siquiera me pagó.

~The older man wanders off, stepping through the rising water, as Vaughn glares at him.~

Peter Vaughn: I caught that part. "Ignorant American", indeed. YOU'RE the one who said we could go here!!

~There's no response, as the man keeps moving away, apparently not wanting to die next to the man he blames for this. Annoyed, Vaughn turns back to the carvings.~

Peter Vaughn: Fine. You go your way, I'll go mine. There's got to be a back door. There's always a back door in these places. I just have to figure it out. Let's see...

~Vaughn begins tracing his hand around the seams, checking for any levers or pulleys. Suddenly, though, he looks back at the seams.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait... why are there grooves here? It's not just a pattern, is it?

~He readjusts his one hand in the seam, trying to see if the circular pattern there moves. It does, just a touch. Vaughn grins, shifting his other hand over to help... only to have the lighter go out. There are several moments of frantic sparks, before Vaughn manages to get the lighter going again. He breathes a sigh of relief, before considering his options.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to need some strength to get this twister moving... but I can't do it in the dark. Damn it. Hey, old-timer! OLD-TIMER!! Get back over here, I need your help!

~The only sound is a muttered Spanish curse word in the distance. Vaughn answers with one of his own.~

Peter Vaughn: Son of a bitch... I knew I needed to follow through on that Babbel learning course Sadie wanted me to take...

~With no other choice, Vaughn starts to push through the water after the old-timer, trying to make sure to keep the lighter above the streams still coming in. It must be some storm outside. We cut away once again.~


~The shot switches to a window frame back in Texas. In a strange coincidence, it also appears to be raining there, as Sadie Anderson, Vaughn's #1 ranch hand (and secret flame) stares outwards at the weather. She's holding her cell phone, waiting, but the ringing just continues on the other end for a few more times before ending in a disconnect, as the satellite phone user cannot be reached. She hangs up, shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter. You were supposed to have checked in by now. I know you trust me to take care of everything here, but I'd still like your sign-off before I act...

~Sadie turns away from the window, looking over at her laptop, where she's got a series of order forms lined up, ready to be sent off. She steps up to them, reading them over one more time.~

Sadie Anderson: Feed for the horses, check. Feed for the chickens, check. Feed for the ranch hands... hmmm, maybe I'd better order a few more sandwich bundles, the way these guys eat.

~She makes the necessary corrections, then studies everything once more. She glances over at the cell phone, then shrugs.~

Sadie Anderson: If he complains about the expenses, I'll tell him he should have called me back.

~Sadie quickly presses Send on each of the invoices, shooting them off to be filled. The PMV Ranch will get the supplies it needs to keep running. Thankfully, Sadie has full access to Vaughn's bank account, basically the only one with that privilege. She still feels guilty, though, as she jumps when her cell phone suddenly rings.~

Sadie Anderson: Oh, NOW he calls back!

~Mumbling to herself about the necessity of her actions, she steps over and answers the call, noting the different country code.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello, Peter? Oh, sorry. This is Sadie, yes. Oh, you're the guide who was taking Vaughn to... wait, what? WHAT?? He's trapped?? With your father??

~Sadie looks extremely concerned, pacing in front of her desk as she thinks things over.~

Sadie Anderson: Have you gotten anyone to go out there yet and try and dig them out? Okay, look, I know a wrestling organization that's there, they've got some pretty strong guys and gals who can probably help. Let me get in touch with Sin City and get back to you. If you can find someone else with equipment that can reach there... no, I realize it's pretty far from the main city. We'll find a way. This number works to call you? Okay, I'll call you back.

~The phone hangs up, with Sadie hurrying over to her computer to find the contact information for various members of the Saviors, knowing that one of them will be able to help, in some way or fashion. As she searches, she curses to herself.~

Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter, I told you this wasn't worth it!

~As Sadie begins to work the phone calls, we jump away again.~


Isn't it great to have someone worried about you?

I guess your family probably fulfills that need for you, Edds. You're lucky in that regard. I'm estranged from my mother. My father is dead. I rarely talk to my half-sister, and as for my half-brother, well, I guess I'm lucky he's still alive at this point. With no signs of a family of my own coming in the future, I'm what you would probably call a loner.

I guess, in some ways, I envy you for that, Eddie.

I mean, yeah, you need to release the strings binding you to them a little, work on establishing your own identity separate from the Lyons estate. But at least you've got them to back you up. Me? I have the Saviors, and I have my ranch. Now, will the Saviors play a part at the pay-per-view, do you think? Could Mac or the Troll make an appearance and shake things up?

Yeah, probably not. They haven't had much to do with my Roulette Title reign to this point, I don't see them starting now.

But the truth is, I haven't needed them to continue my winning ways, Eddy. I don't have to lean on them for major support, or cry to them on the phone when someone gives me a boo-boo. Okay, I'm mocking you a little, but I can't help it. I see your potential, Eds, really, I do, but if you keep sticking to your family's notions of honor before glory, well, you may never reach the glory section. You may always be stranded down there as the lesser Lyon, and that would suck.

But if you could find a way to loosen those restrictions and fight me with everything available, hey, you might still become something great in Sin City. And you see, that's what you should see as being on the line: your future. Sure, you may think that you have nothing to lose here, and it's true, people have rebounded from getting their ass kicked by the Mechanic, no question. But there have also been some wrestlers who were touted as the future who never recovered from the 'humiliation' of losing to a former janitor.

You'd think enough of them had fallen by now that it'd be a badge of honor, but I still hear people say a loss to me is a disgrace. Funny, huh?

So yes, Lyonel, you have a lot to lose at Violent Conduct. You could lose the respect you've earned. You could lose your "Unbreakable" status. You could lose the feeling in your fingers and toes if I end up hitting you just right. Paralysis is never out of the question, especially with some of the maneuvers I'm known to do.  Let's see, what else? You'd lose a portion of your paycheck, taking the defeat, but then, you seem like a trust-fund baby, so that may not bother you that much.

Still, though, whether you want to admit it or not, you truly do have a lot on the line for our match. If you come in acting like it doesn't matter if you lose... well, you may end up badly regretting it once I'm done with you. Because if I decide your heart isn't in our fight, and you're just there to "put in an appearance", well, I may just have to embarrass you. I might have to wash the mat with your face, slap the hell out of that 'pretty' face of yours, and maybe cut off some that beard on your chinny-chin chin.

You look like you could use a shave.

But it's all about how I'm feeling that night, Edds. I could keep it on the up-and-up, and we have ourselves a hell of a fight that threatens to steal the show. Or I could make it a mockery of your entire career.

Think your family is going to be watching, worried for you?


~The picture comes back inside the reservoir, where the rainwater appears to still be rising. Vaughn, though, has more important things on his mind, dragging a weakly-fighting old man back down the short corrider where the chamber is.~

Peter Vaughn: Stop struggling!! This could be our way out, and I need your help!!

Older Man: ¡Me va a ahogar! ¡Demonio! ¡El esta loco!

~The older man tries to break away again, but Vaughn just shoves him hard against the wall, pinning him there. He then holds him with one hand, before bringing up the lighter in his other hand, catching the man's eyes. Vaughn waves it in front of him, with the man wincing, expecting to be burned. But Vaughn just puts it into the man's hand, then points at the wall.~

Peter Vaughn: You hold! I'll lift! Got it?

~While not looking convinced, the older man does seem a little more confident with the flickering lighter in his hand. He lifts it up, trying to figure out what Vaughn has in mind. Vaughn, though, doesn't wait. He reaches down and starts working around the grooves once again, trying to get them rotating in the right direction. After a few stubborn seconds, it begins to move, with it creaking as Vaughn pushes the circle around. Confused, the older man steps in a little closer... and then his eyes widen, as he realizes what's about to happen.~

Older Man: ¡Espera, idiota! Tú vas a...

~Before anything else can be said, Vaughn manages to turn the grooves enough that a portion of them open up, popping loose. Unfortunately, it's less like a door and more like a seal, as the portion flies backwards, knocking Vaughn into the water... as a wave comes flooding through the now-opened passageway! The older man shouts in terror at the increase in water flow, raising them up closer to the ceiling now. Vaughn breaks the surface, coughing for a second before taking everything in. We're back to night vision, since the lighter was put out by the flood, but Vaughn can at least make out the opening.~

Peter Vaughn: Well... that explains how there's so much water. Extra tunnels, right?

~The older man doesn't say anything, probably thinking about Death once more. He starts to swim away, but Vaughn grabs him, dragging him towards the opening.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry, old-timer, but I'd probably face legal charges if I let you drown here, and I've got a career to worry about. This may not be ideal, but this new tunnel goes upwards, which is what we're needing. Let's see where it goes!

~They begin climbing up the tunnel, which appears to be in very poor shape. It was clearly less maintained than the original reservoir. Still, the two seem to be making progress, pulling themselves up, even as the passage continues to get narrower and narrower...~


It's too bad there was already a swimming pool match recently. I'm getting myself plenty of practice in the water.

But then, that's what it is all about, isn't it, Lyons? "Practice". As in, you need more of it to be a truly great wrestler. Nobody can step right into the middle of the three-ring circus and take it over on the first day. You have to start out slow, probably as one of the clowns. Or maybe one of the sweepers after the show, because the animals are always leaving some fecal matter behind.

You have to work your way up the ladder. You can't take shortcuts. You can't fly to the top, because as Icarus showed, you can get burned that way.

So you may have earned this title shot, Edds, and you may think that this is going to be your big first moment, but I'm going to be doing you a favor. I'm going to kick you back down the steps, let you get a taste of defeat, and see how it sits with you. We'll see if a man from the famous Lyons Den is able to cope with the loss or not. Because you will take losses, my friend, oh yes, you will take losses.

It happens to the best of us, and you're not in that category yet.

Now, maybe in the future, when I'm ready to take my next leap upwards, you'll get another shot at this championship. Maybe getting your face stomped in by me now will lead to you being a better contender in the future, knowing more about what's needed to get the victory. Hey, maybe you'll even thank me in the long run.

Doubtful, I know, but there's still a chance.

Just take what lessons you can from this, Edz. Try and think of it as a growing experience, even if it's painful. Even if you find yourself wanting to tap out and run away. Hang in there, kitty cat. You'll survive, I'm fairly sure.

Nobody's died yet from taking the Plunge.

Good luck, boyo. You're going to need it.


~We now find ourselves outside in the jungle area, nearby where the collapse originally happened. We can hear noise through the rainstorm, coming closer, as flashlights can be seen. A vehicle manages to push through the trees, a smaller crane with a hook added on for effect. Walking behind it, we can see the younger man from earlier, nervously leading a small crew of men towards the collapsed reservoir. They get close, with the younger man pointing out where it happened. A leader steps forward, pointing that way. He speaks in a slightly English accent, showing he's a foreigner to these lands.~

Leader: Okay, men, we need to try and dig our way down. Hopefully this doesn't go too far in... because if it does, well, the odds are low that we'll find anyone alive. So lets get to work!

~As the men start to step forward, ready to work, there's a sudden whistling noise over from the right. The group turns, looking around, to see a hand sticking up out of the ground! It waves back and forth, getting their attention.~

Leader: What on earth??

~The leader hurries forward, along with the younger man. They pull away some rocks, finding a small vent in the ground designed to collect the rainwater. Inside, staring out at them, we can see Peter Vaughn. He smiles at them.~

Peter Vaughn: Good to see you guys. Guess they called in the calvary? Well, we need...

Older Man: Mijo!

Younger Man: Papa!

~The older man shoves Vaughn out of the way, sending him falling back into the water and sliding down the tunnel some, as he reaches through to grasp his son's hand. The two share a bonding moment, each glad to see the other still alive. Vaughn, meanwhile, gets himself up and grumpily comes back up, looking around them through the narrow opening, too narrow for anyone to squeeze through.~

Peter Vaughn: Could you just open this, please? I'd like to get out of here...

Leader: Right away. Shovels, men! Everyone stand back!

~Vaughn has to pull the older man back, out of harm's way, so that the crew can work on widening the hole leading to the tunnel. After a few minutes, it's cleared out enough that both men can squeeze out, earning a cheer from the workers. They're obviously overjoyed to not only finding people alive, but finding them in record time. The leader gives Vaughn a pat on the shoulders, with Vaughn nodding his thanks to him. He then turns, handing a soggy envelope to the older man.~

Peter Vaughn: Your pay. I should probably dock you for almost killing me, but I'm a fair man.

~The older man takes the envelope, looking inside it. He then locks eyes with Vaughn. He raises three fingers.~

Peter Vaughn: You... you want triple the fee? You SAID this place was safe enough to look at!! This was all your fault!

~The older man keeps his three fingers up, even as the younger man, his son, moves in next to him to give him another hug. Seeing this, Vaughn scowls, before reaching back into his bag.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll see what I can do... damn it...

~As Vaughn searches for money, we slowly fade away, leaving the scene of the near disaster. Thankfully, everything seems to have worked out.~


~When we next come up, we're once again back inside the transformed lot somewhere in Dallas, Texas. The cameraman has continued moving, making his way towards the center of the mini-labyrinth of trees and grassy knolls. He gets to the pavilion in the center, focusing the camera on the figure sitting inside, drinking from a glass.~

Cameraman: THERE you are! I've been searching for you everywhere, Vaughn!

~Vaughn sits up, glancing over at the man, before taking another sip from his drink. It's hard to tell exactly what it is. The color could be an expensive chardonnay... or a fruit drink. Impossible to tell without tasting it. Either way, Vaughn sets it to the side before getting to his feet, doing a quick stretch.~

Peter Vaughn: You should try having to wait here for an hour with nothing else to do but drink and relax. It's boring as hell. But I'm glad you finally made it in here, my man. So, what'd you think of my little creation?

Cameraman: It looks very familiar...

Peter Vaughn: Oh, it's my own design, I assure you. I might have... borrowed from a few other places, but it's built the way I wanted it. I call it... the Garden of Betrayal. What do you think? Cool name?

~The cameraman turns, looking around in each direction, getting shots of the trees, the trellis, the paths, and the pavilion. He shakes his head in shock, amazed that he didn't see it before.~

Cameraman: Is this... from the Game of Thrones??

Peter Vaughn: Nope. It's all my idea.

Cameraman: But... the way that path leads to here...

Peter Vaughn: Similarities are coincidental. Trust me. All that you need to know is that, for the coming future, we're going to be having all of our initial interviews here... and we'll see if I can convince some other wrestlers to make the trip here as well.

Cameraman: If they're smart, they'll stay away... I've seen what happens in a place like this...

~Vaughn steps forward, staring intently at the cameraman, who backs away slightly.~

Peter Vaughn: Don't make assumptions. Now, since you're here, carry a message for me, will you? Tell that Eddie Lyons to prepare for a hell of a war. It will be a battle not seen since dragons once ruled the earth. And in the end, when I'm triumphant and keeping my seat at the head of the table, he'll need to prepare for a new blemish in his family line. In this game, he stands no chance.

Cameraman: Seriously, how did I not see the Game of Thrones references?

Peter Vaughn: That's on you, boyo. Now, be off. I've got some more contemplation to take care of.

Cameraman: ... It took me 20 minutes to get here lugging this camera.

Peter Vaughn: Leave me. I need to prepare for the battles ahead.

~Vaughn turns his back, sitting away from the cameraman, who appears to consider a Red Wedding possibility before turning and departing, grumbling all the way at the lack of footage. He turns back once more, giving us a shot of Vaughn sitting inside his newly constructed sanctuary, with his eyes shut and a smile on his face. We fade out.~


29
Supercard Archives / Burying The Competition, P1
« on: August 19, 2023, 11:13:57 PM »
~Our shot opens up on the same quiet lot that once housed a gigantic, abandoned warehouse. That building has since been torn down (in dramatic fashion), but Peter Vaughn has continued work on the site, clearing away the debris and planting both grass & trees in specific locations throughout the area. Now, as we return, we can see him in the distance, working once again. The cameraman makes his way over, following what appears to be a freshly laid brick path. He reaches near the end of it, coming up behind Vaughn, who we can see is preparing another brick for placement. He locks it into position, making sure it sticks, before looking back at the cameraman and pointing a dirty finger in his direction.~

Peter Vaughn: You were late on purpose this time, weren't you? You wanted to see more of what I'd be doing today... while not helping any yourself. I get it. You're not interested in extra labor. Just "doing your job" or whatever. It's fine. Fine.

~It doesn't seem "fine" to Vaughn, but the cameraman doesn't argue. He just steps to the side, onto the grass, to get a better shot of Vaughn's path that he's building. It's really rather intricate, using different colored bricks to make a captivating pattern. It's still not clear, though, why Vaughn is going to all this trouble, as he's never explained the work he's been doing. Nor does it seem like he's going to do it now, as he gets up and splashes some water on his hands, cleaning them.~

Peter Vaughn: Construction is always messy work. But hey, the more you put in, the better things come out, right? I mean, take my Sin City career. I've put a lot into it at this point. I arrived here in February, nearly half a year ago, to help my man Mac Bane win a championship. I took on some of the supposed strongest guys here, wrestlers like Milo and Barnhart, and sent them packing. I went into my first SCW Pay-Per-View and got a victory over Jack Washington at Blaze of Glory XI. THAT one got people talking, didn't it?

~Vaughn smirks to himself, remembering the sensation of starting off so strongly. He then grabs another brick, pasting it up for placement in the path.~

Peter Vaughn: After that, it seemed like the sky was the limit. I went on to win the Roulette Championship at Into The Void XII, and there seemed to be nothing in this world that could stop me... until I lost that rematch with Washington. You'd think, since we're 1-1 against each other, there'd be another match, but it sure felt after that one that people said "Well, clearly, THAT'S the one that matters", because I haven't heard anything about a tiebreaker between us. Instead... instead, it feels like maybe I'm stuck in a rut now.

~The smirk is gone, replaced by annoyance, as Vaughn slams down the brick into position. He's a little too forceful, as the brick cracks upon impact. Grumbling to himself, Vaughn quickly pops it back out before it can set, tossing it to the side and going for another brick.~

Peter Vaughn: To be sure, I've taken the Roulette Championship to new heights. People are damn excited to see this belt defended whenever possible. But the higher-ups may have lost faith in me, because they first give ol' Barnhart another shot at the belt, and then pitted me against the man who lost to the Troll. He doesn't even deserve his name mentioned, to be frank, but I took him down nonetheless. I beat him expecting a major contender for my belt... and instead I get a contenders match between two lower-card guys, wanting their chance in the PPV spotlight. I've gone from Hall of Famers to the Backyard Rookies. I mean, how old's this kid Lyons? 18? 19?

~The cameraman flashes his free hand a few times, probably conveying the correct age due to Vaughn's reaction.~

Peter Vaughn: 22? Damn, that's hard to believe, but they do look younger every day, I guess. So I'm fighting the youngster with a couple of wins under his belt, defending my championship once again... and my man Goth comes back, and immediately is ahead of me in the World Title rankings. Yeah. Proud of him and all, but... well, we'll see what happens after Violent Conduct is over with.

~With a sigh, Vaughn gets another brick in place. Despite his discussion with the cameraman, he doesn't appear to have lost focus, as all of the patterns still look correct. Vaughn takes it in, figuring out his next move as he walks over to the nearby wheelbarrow, moving it further down the line. We can see, just ahead, several rounded pillars have been stacked up. They certainly look like they'll eventually form a full circle around... something. Vaughn begins to form a border to the circle, adjusting the bricks around it, as he looks back at the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Overall, though, I won't let other people's opinions affect me. They think they can keep throwing cannon fodder my way, believing that someone, someday, will find a way to trip me up? They're willing to keep trying. I'll just keep shredding them to pieces and removing them from the board, so that they can't bother me again. I'll keep forcing the issue, with victory after victory, until they finally say... you're deserving of that World Title shot, Peter. And won't that be a glorious day in the sun?

~Vaughn looks upwards, grinning. Of course, it's a cloudy day today, so you really can't look towards the sun that well. But the point still stands. After a second, Vaughn looks back down, glancing at all the bricks he still needs to get laid in place today. Even for an all-star athlete, it's tiring work. He turns his gaze back to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, there's really no reason that you can't be helping me with this. I could pay you. I'm supposed to get some help in an hour or so, but you're already here...

~The cameraman is already shaking his head no, eliciting a chuckle from Vaughn.~

Peter Vaughn: Knew that would be your response. Oh well, can't blame me for trying. Of course, now you'll have to wait and see what this looks like in the end. Just like Lyons will have to wait and see what it feels like to be a champion, because this belt is not leaving my waist until I say so. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a project to finish...

~Vaughn turns away from the cameraman, continuing to build his circular pattern, as the cameraman steps away. He tries to take in the whole area with a wide zoom, as if trying to figure out Vaughn's vision. It's almost on the tip of his tongue, as something definitely looks familiar about all this... but it'll have to wait until next time, as the camera feed finally gets shut off.~


~When we return to the feed, we now find ourselves staring at an entirely different field: The Great Ballcourt of Chichen Itza in the Yucatan, Mexico. It's always an impressive sight, although to hear the grunts from nearby, it doesn't seem to have made an impact on some people. The camera turns, showing us Peter Vaughn standing there, studying the area with his arms crossed.~

Peter Vaughn: What a waste of space. This area could have been used for so many projects.

~Vaughn shakes his head, before turning away towards where a tour guide is apparently explaining some of the historic aspects of the area.~

Tour Guide: ... and the goal of some of the games here would ultimately be the player earning enough points so that he could lay claim to the "Home of the Gods"! Truly an amazing reward to fight for!

Tourist: Is it true they used to decide matters of law here, deciding if a person is guilty by having them compete?

Tour Guide: Well, there are some historians who believe that is true, although it's hard to say whether it's been confirmed or not.

Tourist: And didn't they build in a version of their calendars into the gaming area? I heard you could find it if you looked hard enough...

Tour Guide: Some of the details have been lost over the generations, of course, but yes, there are ways to view the Mayan Calendar from higher up, which is an astounding achievement...

Peter Vaughn: Hey, what about them playing their sports with the severed heads of their enemies? Any truth to that one?

~Everyone turns and looks at Vaughn, who simply shrugs, not ashamed at all to ask the question. The tour guide coughs for a moment, clearly annoyed by this one coming up yet again.~

Tour Guide: No. There is categorically no evidence at all that they did that. It's a stereotype created by people wanting them to seem more savage in their stories. There were NO severed heads used.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I figured as much. It really wouldn't be practical, using a head. It's too unbalanced and shaped wrong. A ball would definitely work a lot better. Plus, there's the stickiness factor...

Tour Guide: ... Yes. Now if you'll come with me, let's head to the Temple of Jaguars. There's much more to see there.

~The tour guide quickly heads off, wanting to get his tour back on track after a momentary distraction. Vaughn, for his part, stays a little longer, considering the round structures up above, meant for the ball to be tossed through. He nods.~

Peter Vaughn: Clearly too small for a head, as well. Then again, maybe they pulled out goalposts when the heads were used. Who knows, right?

~Vaughn then turns and walks off, leaving the tour behind. He's got better things to do with his time, after all. It's doubtful the tour guide will even care that he left, after that last question. We follow Vaughn as he pulls out his satellite phone, making a quick press of the automatic dialer. There's only one person who will answer, anyway.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello? Peter, is that you?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. Just wanted to check in really quick. Things are looking good for my title defense here in Mexico. It's going to be a blast, I'm sure.

Sadie Anderson: It always seems to be with you. Well, things are looking up here at the PMV Ranch now that we've got a few extra hands working here. Are you going to be back more often once this tour is over?

Peter Vaughn: Definitely so, Sadie. I've got some ideas I want to implement. In fact, I'm going to be checking on one of those ideas this afternoon with some local guides. I'm going to get a first-hand look at something that could change our future farming needs.

Sadie Anderson: "Farming"? But... we really don't have any farming areas at the moment, just livestock...

Peter Vaughn: You always have to think towards the future, Sadie, and we've got plenty of acres to work with. If this works out, we might really give the PMV Ranch back in Texas a major leg up over our competition. After all, what if we were also raising our own food for the livestock to eat?

Sadie Anderson: I guess I see what you're talking about, Peter, but... what you're going to do today, is it dangerous?

~Vaughn hesitates, not wanting to get caught in another lie around his head ranch hand. She always seems to sniff it out. Really, she knows Vaughn better than almost anyone else in the world, not that Vaughn would ever fully notice. She certainly takes note of his silence.~

Sadie Anderson: You just make sure you come back to us in one piece, Peter, you understand?

Peter Vaughn: Of course, of course. I mean, it's only a short hike into a tropical rainforest, what could go wrong?

Sadie Anderson: A tropical what? Peter!

Peter Vaughn: Gotta go, talk to you later.

~Vaughn quickly cuts off any response, as he turns off the satellite phone and puts it back in his pack. He then walks off, waving to the two men waiting for him, as the picture cuts out.~


Does it feel good to get "ahead", Edds?

Seriously, I'm asking. I mean, you must have gone out to celebrate, right? After that victory over Jaycee MacDonald to win this title shot? I mean, you probably should be ecstatic, I'm not going to lie about it. It's a big win, earning a #1 Contendership, in any company, especially your first one.

Now, sure, a lot of people are saying that I, as the special guest referee, chose you to win, since you were the lesser threat. But I'm here to tell you that those people don't know what they're talking about. I honestly never even bothered to compare you or Mickey D over there. I called that match down the middle, because I didn't care who won. And yes, some of my counts were slower than others, but damn it, you try being a referee in a surprise pool match. It really isn't easy.

You have to slap the water JUST right to make that count. And checking to see if the shoulders are up? Damn near impossible.

So, anyways, you ended up getting the win, earning an opportunity by beating a guy who's not done much of anything in SCW. Before that, you got your debut win, beating a...  Rodrigo Afonso? I don't have a clue about that guy, either. Really, Lyons, you've been gifted a couple of easy matches to start out with, from what I can see. You haven't had that true test yet, that will determine whether you're going to be a huge superstar or a huge blundering bust for this company.

But consider that test set in stone at Violent Conduct IX.

You see, Edward, I'm basically the hottest talent in Sin City at the moment. I'm the one the top champions are ducking away from, hoping that I'll stay in my division, praying that I won't be gunning for their throats. It's only a matter of time before I slam this Roulette Championship against one of their heads, knocking their spit into the fourth row. And, well, Edds, to keep up that momentum... I'm going to have to make an example of you.

I'm actually sorry about that, believe it or not.

I know what it's like to come into a fed and want that immediate gratification, only to get denied and sent to the back of the line. It's a disappointing experience. But I'm afraid that's your future, Eddy. Well, that's after a lot of pain and suffering, too. But I have faith that you'll be able to bounce back. You won't crack after a single bludgeoning, will you, Ed? I hope not... although I HAVE ended careers before.

Never my goal, but always a milestone to add to the list.

Do you think that could happen, Eddie? Your third match in SCW, and it ends up being your last? I mean, I don't control the wheel... it makes up its own mind on how we're fighting. It could easily be something so high-risk that you end up slipping up and breaking your neck upon landing. I'm sure people would still blame me, even if it's entirely your fault. They'll certainly blame me if I'm the one who snapped you down. But I'm used to blame. I've been around for a while now.

Look, Eds, you're young. You've got... enthusiasm. I get that. You probably think that you can vault over me and be this "Unbreakable Lyon" or whatever it is you're going for. But everyone I've ever faced who has called themselves "Unbreakable", "Untouchable", or "Unstoppable"... I've beaten them all. Nobody's Unbreakable, Eds. Not even me... although, to be fair, no one's been able to break me yet, so maybe I'm wrong.

I shouldn't steal your nickname, though. I'm quite satisfied as the Mechanic.

By the way, who gave you that nickname? Alex? Vincent? Victoria? Or someone else in your famous family? I mean, I doubt you came up with it by yourself. After all, you've been riding their coattails so far, I'm sure they were willing to help you out with a name, too. And don't get me wrong: nothing wrong with using your family to get you ahead. It probably got you a nice signing bonus out of the deal, in the hopes that you'll be as great as them.

The only problem is... that's a hell of a lot of pressure, boyo.

Hope that pressure doesn't break you at Violent Conduct once I defeat you. It'd be a shame for your family to lose faith in you after only one loss. I doubt they'd turn on you and call you the "black sheep" of the family once I'm done with you, really.

But it HAS happened in the past, after all...


~We rejoin Vaughn as he's making his way through a portion of rainforest, following behind an older man in front of him. There's also a younger Mayan behind, keeping up with them while carrying a pack on his shoulder. The older man is clearing the path, moving them forward. Vaughn swats at a couple of large bugs, knocking them away.~

Peter Vaughn: So this place isn't TOO much farther, is it? I mean, I'm known for going off the beaten path, but even for me this is getting ridiculous...

Older Man: Sí, señor. Está justo a la vuelta de esta curva.

~Vaughn glances behind him at the younger man, raising an eyebrow.~

Younger Man: He says we're about there, senor.

~Vaughn nods, looking pleased. He's never been one for picking up languages, one of his rare deficiencies, when you think about it. Sure enough, just around the next curve, we find an area that has been cleared of all of the tropical elements. It looks like a section that was once used for horticulture, either for food or some other reasoning. The older man signals to the side, pointing to the place where the ground slopes downwards.~

Older Man: Lo que busca está ahí abajo, señor.

Younger Man: We go down there for what you are looking for.

Peter Vaughn: About time.

~Vaughn moves ahead of the two men, making his way forward. The older guide tells the younger man something, and he stays back, working with his pack, perhaps to prepare for their stay here. The older man then follows Vaughn as he heads down into a built passageway, dug out of the ground here. Seeing that they've lost a companion, Vaughn glances back at the entrance.~

Peter Vaughn: Don't we need him? For translation purposes, at least? Why keep him above?

Older Man: Es por su propia seguridad, señor. Su madre me mataría si dejo que lo lastimen.

Peter Vaughn: ... All I got out of that was something about his mother. Oh well. Time's a-wasting.

~Vaughn turns and quickly goes deeper and deeper inside, turning on a flashlight to shine ahead of him as soon as the sunlight is gone. He takes in the construction of the walls, noting how they've been sealed in specific ways. He appears to be taking mental notes for the future.~

Peter Vaughn: So this is what they used when groundwater was hard to come by, huh? They dug out these underground reservoirs to store their rainwater? Pretty impressive, I have to give it to them. I'll have to see if something like this would work in Texas, though.

~The older man just nods, leaving it unclear whether he understands a single word of what Vaughn is saying. He just points out a few specific spots, where vents have been created to help guide the rainwater. Vaughn nods in understanding.~

Peter Vaughn: So it would all pool up down here, where they could keep it saved up in case of droughts? I like how they built it. Of course, I'm going to have to modernize the task a bit. It wouldn't do to have to use buckets to lug all the water out when we need it. I could add in a machine or two to transfer the water to the surface with a flick of a switch. It'll be fairly easy to do, really. I'm surprised they never thought of it.

~Considering the civilization Vaughn is talking about, it's kind of a stretch to berate them for not using automatic, powered systems. But Vaughn is always one to look towards the future, and he always expects everyone else to follow the same logic as he does. He stops near one constructed pillar, checking out how much wear and tear is evident. The older man steps forward, concerned.~

Older Man: Por favor, no toque, señor. No es estable.

~Although Vaughn may not speak the language, he gets the gist of it, stepping back.~

Peter Vaughn: A little concerned with how it was built, huh? Yeah, I can see that. I'd definitely reinforce the walls with steel wire or maybe some welded wire fabric.  Of course, I want to keep it cost-effective, but then, safety still needs to be a concern. Hmmm. Something to think about. Okay, let's go ahead and go back...

~As Vaughn turns, looking back the way they had come, there is a sudden, roaring crash just ahead of them. It almost sounds like an explosion. Quickly, a wall of dust and debris flies towards the two men, who only have time to barely duck and cover before they're consumed, blocking out the light entirely. We lose sight of everything, as soon it's completely black... and now silent.~


Sometimes the future is just unpredictable, Edds.

Of course, you should know all about that, having to compete in a Poolside Brawl without any preparation. I know you borrowed those boring swim trunks from someone. Was it the Troll? No, no, too small. And they didn't look like they'd fit any of our female competitors, so I guess that narrows down the list. Not that it matters. Congrats on finding some at the last minute.

But that was just the warm-up for our match at the Pay-Per-View, Eddie.

So far, in my time as a Roulette Champion, I've fought in Staple Gun Mania, a Ladder match, Ultimate X, and a Stretcher match. It pretty much should show you that that Roulette wheel really runs the gambit between standard and insanity, meaning that we could really be doing anything at Violent Conduct. Personally, I hope it lives up to its name, and we go further into the hardcore realms, so that I could show the Sin City audience that I'm more than just a high-flyer.

The truth is, though, that no matter what the match turns out to be... I'm going to be more experienced at it than you, kid.

Being a rookie in a contest like this, well, it's rather unfair, when you think about it. You have to be able to pull on your years spent inside the squared circle and out, putting together a winning strategy on the fly. I'll be able to draw on my extensive knowledge of all sorts of contests, from Broom Closet Brawls to Hazardous Ladder No Limits to Barbed Wire Exploding C4 matches. When it comes to my career, Ed, I've really done it all.

You? You may think you're "experienced", but watching other family members doesn't count in the long run. You have to experience the pain to appreciate it. I don't care what stories or prep work they'll tell you when you call them that morning... it won't be enough to prepare you for what you're going to have to go through.

Honestly, for your sake, I hope the wheel decides to be nice and makes it a Three Falls match or something. That would at least give you a tiny chance of hope... although you pinning me once is laughable. Twice would require God's hand to come down from the heavens to smite me down.

You good enough friends with him for that? I didn't think so.

To be the Roulette Champion, you truly have to be ready for everything. And you're too wet behind the ears to be ready for a simple Ambulance match. Actually, that'd be kind of a trip, because I don't know where the ambulance would take you from here. It could end up being a long, long trip.

My point is, Lyonel, you've really bitten off more than you can chew here. You probably shouldn't have agreed to get pushed forward so quickly, making you a mincemeat sacrifice to my Roulette Title run. But it's your bed to lie in now, and you'll have to deal with the consequences... as unpredictable as those consequences might end up being.

About the only certainty? That you will be taking the Plunge.


~With everything finally settled down, we see Vaughn smacking his flashlight a few times, working to keep it lit. It finally does so, allowing us to view him a little better as he shines the light on the tunnel they previously came down... a tunnel that has now caved in completely.~

Peter Vaughn: So... welded wire fabric it is on the beams... safety first, right? *cough cough*

~Vaughn finishes clearing out some of the dust from his throat, before turning and looking around behind him, realizing that he didn't get a response.~

Peter Vaughn: Old man? Where are you?

~The light crosses the chamber back and forth, stopping on a hand being weakly raised into the air. Vaughn hurries over, finding the older man laying there, his head cut either by the debris or by how he landed against the wall. Vaughn reaches into his pocket, pulling out a long handkerchief to press against the man's wound. The older man groans, but still holds the cloth in place, as Vaughn scans around the chamber, considering their options.~

Peter Vaughn: So... you think the Mayans ever put in multiple exits to a place like this? Maybe multiple rain-collecting tunnels that we just have to track down?

~From his vantage point, Vaughn can't see any other openings. He shines back the way they came.~

Peter Vaughn: Or maybe that young friend of yours can start digging us out? I'm sure it's not... that much rock blocking the way, right?

~A few more stones fall from the top, rolling to the ground, as if to put that statement to rest.~

Peter Vaughn: At the very least... he'll go for help, right? So people will know we're here... right?

~After a few agonizing seconds, the older man finally looks up at Vaughn with grief in his eyes.~

Older Man: Es desesperado. Vamos a morir aquí abajo.

~Vaughn considers him for a few long moments.~

Peter Vaughn: Right. No idea what you said. But I'm going to assume it was something grim and unhelpful. Alright, then. I suppose it's up to me to get us out of here. I've got multiple title matches on my schedule, after all. Nobody's been able to keep me down yet, I'm certainly not going to let this damn place do it. So... where to start?

~As Vaughn turns back and forth, considering his options, the flashlight flickers again... and then goes out. We're back in complete darkness.~

Older Man: La Muerte.

Peter Vaughn: Don't even start.

~All we can hear now is Vaughn moving around, now having to search for a way out of this mess without any light to guide him... along with the quiet sobs of the older man, who now believes he has been entombed forever. We slowly fade out.~


Well... I did say to be prepared for anything. I guess I'll be putting that one to the test myself.

But don't you worry, Edz. You're not getting a cheap forfeit victory. If I have to dig my way out of here with my bare fingers, clawing my path all the way up to the surface, then that's what I'm going to do. I'll be there to fight you, Eddy. And I'll be there to end your winning streak and quickly crush the talk of you being the next great light of Sin City.

The Roulette Title stays with me.

Actually... the Roulette Title is sitting in my backpack. I figured it was a good thing to give me some extra weight, turn this hike into some good exercise. Plus, I wasn't going to leave it back at that shoddy hotel. So... I guess, either way, the Roulette Belt is staying with me.

But I'm getting out. Eventually. And I'll see you soon, Eddie. I'll see you soon.

Now where'd I put that shovel? Hmmm, wonder if the belt would work....


30
Climax Control Archives / Remote Recruitment
« on: August 04, 2023, 10:51:18 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up on what appears to be a long, grassy plain. Of course, the buildings seen a short distance away changes this opinion of yours rather quickly, as obviously, this is closer to being a city park of some sort. And for now, in a way, you'd be right. But once upon a time, this was where a rather abandoned warehouse once stood, a warehouse that was used for many a promo from one Peter Vaughn. That building has been demolished, though, with Vaughn working to apparently retake the land afterwards, digging up the soil and laying out new layers of grass across the area. But that's not all Vaughn has been doing. The camera turns, showing Vaughn lifting with his knees, bringing a small tree out of the back of his pick-up truck, affectionately known as Gabriella. He turns towards the cameraman, walking his way.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there, friend. Haven't seen you in a few weeks. What do you think so far? Think we're making some good progress?

~The cameraman seems to shrug, not really knowing what Vaughn is fully going for. But Vaughn takes his response as a positive one, even as he steps to the side, where a hole has already been dug. An industrial-strength auger sits to the side, likely modified in Vaughn's typical style. It certainly dug a deep enough hole, as Vaughn easily gets the tree inside.~

Peter Vaughn: Just you wait, camera dude. This place? It's going to be magnificent once we're done.

~It's clear Vaughn has other help in this project, as he's been travelling around the world a lot lately. But right now, there are no signs of the rest of the crew.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about a few weeks ago. You got to watch as I once again fulfilled my promise. I took down Bill Barnhart for a second time, this time beating him one on one, and the beautiful Roulette Championship stayed around my waist. I certainly earned a new appreciation for the usage of duct tape. It really does fix anything. All-in-all, it was a hell of a victory, making me extremely proud to continue my reign. I've got a ways to go to add up the days like some people here, but the count is still going up.

~Vaughn dusts off his hands, looking off into the distance for a second, considering things.~

Peter Vaughn: And thank goodness it worked out that way. How embarrassing would it have been to come to the next show, where the almighty Goth is making his return, and not have my championship with me? I'm glad I didn't let the Saviors down. And now, we're one step closer to taking over the reins here in Sin City once again.

~Vaughn nods to himself, and then heads back to the truck, apparently to get another seedling of a tree. The cameraman turns to the right, showing the strategically dug holes cutting a path through the grassy field. It's not a completely straight path. In fact, it seems to curve around, an interesting formation once all of the trees are in. The cameraman turns back to Vaughn, who's lugging in another one.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, I'd be remiss if I left out the other significant event at the last Climate Control. And no, it wasn't the short returns of Mac or Ken, although those were pretty memorable. No, the biggest moment was the fact that a fellow Savior member, The Troll, got a victory. He got an amazing sunset flip, perfectly improvised, to get the 1-2-3. It was a hell of a moment, one that admittedly many of us weren't expecting. And who'd he get it on? Why, it was my opponent for this next week... "The Outlaw" Max Steele.

~Vaughn shakes his head, laughing to himself, before plopping the tree into its desired position. He kicks some dirt on top of it, making sure it's settled, before turning back, with the cameraman following him.~

Peter Vaughn: When I heard I'd be competing in a Non-Title match, frankly, I was not a happy camper. I want to put as many defenses as I can with this championship, making everyone have to accept that my reign has truly been a great one. But when I saw who my booked opponent was, well, I couldn't really say anything. After all, Maxie Pad fell to the Troll. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement for a title shot.

~As Vaughn reaches the truck again, he pulls out the next tree, shifting it towards the edge of the pick-up. He stops, though, opting to turn back to the camera.*

Peter Vaughn: The funny thing is, in my last two matches, I've had to tell myself, don't underestimate the competition. Sure, I felt I was better than Milo & The Troll, and I was extremely confident about ol' Barnhart, but I forced myself to fight them hard, and it paid off. But now, man, it's going to be difficult not to come into this one with too much confidence. After all, Maxie's looking more like an invalid than an outlaw at this point. But I have to wonder: can he use this as motivation?

~Vaughn leans an arm on his beloved truck, clearly thinking backwards in time to some of his accomplishments in the sport.~

Peter Vaughn: I remember well how an embarrassing loss or two could find a way to inspire me to greatness. After all, once you've taken that fall from grace, you only have two options: sit there on your ass and cry about it, or start climbing back up to where you were. So which one will it be for Maxwell? We'll just have to find out, won't we? And hey, if I beat him in record time, we'll know what the answer was, won't we?

~Vaughn nods, basically agreeing with himself, as the cameraman doesn't appear to be doing anything. There's a honk from behind, and Vaughn turns, taking in several trucks coming in.~

Peter Vaughn: About time my army got here. I was thinking I was going to have to do everything myself.

~As the trucks start to park, the cameraman turns towards them, intent on getting a shot of some of the drivers. But Vaughn stops him, waving him back over.~

Peter Vaughn: No need to film them, boyo. The star's right here. And the star's going to keep rising when he pounds some Steele into submission at Climate Control. Now feel free to take off, my man. These guys and I have some work to do.

~Vaughn gets the third tree up and walks off, even as the cameraman turns to see him go. We can hear doors slamming close by, as people get out of their trucks. The temptation to turn and film must be incredibly powerful. But this cameraman knows better than to go against Vaughn, considering Vaughn almost buried him in a collapsing building without even having any animosity towards him. Instead. the footage cuts out.~


~As the shot shifts into a different location, we see a beautiful view off the side of a mountain. It's a view of Machu Picchu, a majestic sight as the ancient structures rise up before us. The shot moves forward, defying gravity, proving to us that this is a drone, as it begins zooming over the different walls and blocks, taking in the mysterious history of this place. The drone has a destination in mind, though, and it heads there, flying towards where we can see a man holding the reins of two horses, standing off to the side. He is unknown to us, a local, most likely. He glances to his left, and the drone follows, heading that way. We can now see another man standing nearby, staring off into the distance with a decent drop just a few feet away from him. Peter Vaughn is genuinely smiling, perhaps feeling something deep in his ancestral genes for being in a wonderous place like this. Or maybe he just ate a Snickers bar. You never know. Unfortunately, the moment of tranquility is broken up as Vaughn's satellite phone rings, wiping the smile from his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Knew I should have turned that off.

~Vaughn reluctantly pops out the phone, basically answering it just to stop it from disturbing the stillness around him.~

Peter Vaughn: Go for Vaughn.

Sadie Anderson: Peter? Look, it's Sadie.

Peter Vaughn: Sadie who?

Sadie Anderson: ... Are you serious?

Peter Vaughn: Of course not. What's going on, Sadie? How's the ranch doing?

~There's a distorted sound that comes from the phone, possibly grumbling or cursing, but it's done with the receiver covered, so we can't make it out. After a second, Sadie's voice returns.~

Sadie Anderson: The ranch is... still standing. But I really need to discuss something with you.

Peter Vaughn: I'm listening.

Sadie Anderson: Your new animals were delivered here last week, and we've been taking the best care of them that we can. But it's taking a lot to maintain all of this livestock with the crew you've currently got.

Peter Vaughn: How are the donkeys doing? I'm hoping they didn't get too airsick...

Sadie Anderson: Seriously, Peter, please listen to me. We... we need help here.

Peter Vaughn: Help? Really? I'm sorry, Sadie, I truly am, but I've got several wrestling events coming up, including this weekend. I'm afraid I'll be unavailable for some time.

Sadie Anderson: I know that, Peter, and I'm not talking about just you. With Thomas still recovering, and you out of the country, we're really short-handed. And we were never prepared to have the cattle come in along with all of the donkeys & mules you arranged for. Throw in the pigs and chickens and this place has become a regular farmstead with the crew the size of a ranch much smaller.

~Vaughn scratches at his chin, thinking it over. As much as he hates to admit it, Sadie's making sense. His ranch has been expanding dramatically as of late, and he hasn't hired anyone new in a month or two.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, then, why don't you go out and hire some more hands? You probably know the talent out there better than I do.

Sadie Anderson: It doesn't work like that, Peter. You have to be the one who talks to them and hires them. It's the way of the rancher. I can offer suggestions, but...

Peter Vaughn: Wait, how am I supposed to seek out people for you, all the way over here? Can't you just talk to some and I'll rubber stamp them or something?

Sadie Anderson: If we have to do that, you won't get the best respect from those you're hiring. They'll likely do sloppy work, and will leave us in a lurch in a moment's notice if they get something better. They need to trust the owner of the ranch, and that's not me.

~Vaughn sighs, looking around for a few seconds.~

Peter Vaughn: It's pretty barren of people out there, Sadie. I can ask a few who do some work in these hills, but I don't think many of them speak English.

Sadie Anderson: No, Peter, that's not what we need...

Peter Vaughn: I mean, I DID see a guy herding some sheep and goats earlier. They caught my attention, because I thought, what could we do with the wool and the goat's milk, as well as the...

Sadie Anderson: NO MORE ANIMALS!!

~The scream catches Vaughn off-guard, and he almost drops the satellite phone. Thankfully, his reaction speed is still up to the task, as he gathers it back in before it falls too far.~

Peter Vaughn: Geez, Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: I... I'm sorry, Peter. But we really need to take care of the personnel issue first, before anything else is added. Your ranch hands are getting overworked... including me.

Peter Vaughn: Alright, look... I'll see what I can do from here. If I can arrange something, I'll let you know. Okay?

Sadie Anderson: Thank you, Peter. And good luck at your match this weekend. I'll be cheering for you.

Peter Vaughn: Luck won't be required. But thanks. Goodbye.

~Vaughn hangs up the satellite phone, putting it back on his belt. He turns and walks over to where his guide is waiting, having brought Vaughn up to this spot. Vaughn considers the guide for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: You don't speak English, right?

~The guide doesn't respond. He just stares at Vaughn, waiting, with Vaughn sighing and nodding to the horses.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. She didn't want me to import anything else to the ranch, anyway. Let's get going. I've got an impossible mission to take care of.

~Vaughn gets on the horse, with the guide saddling up as well. They ride off, as the picture cuts out.~


The things you have to do to keep moving forward, am I right, Max? Or should I call you Mad? I don't know for sure, you might be changing your name due to that whole "HBO Max" thing, and I guess I can't blame you. Besides, you probably want a new name after getting yourself pinned by The Troll.

That's one that's going to be extremely hard to live down, isn't it?

Really, if I were you, I'd only see two courses readily available for me. Either I'd leave Sin City with my tail between my legs, never to be seen again, or I'd rile myself up to an enraged state and put everything I have into my next contest. Boy, it's really a shame for you that you got booked against me next, because you certainly should have the motivation to be competitive... just not the skills or talent, apparently.

But I could be wrong. Maybe there's greatness somewhere under that skin of yours, waiting to find its way out. I suppose anything is possible.

I know from what I've seen of you is that you're not any bigger than I am, which is kind of a relief, actually, considering all the powerhouses I seem to get booked against lately. It'll be nice to match speed vs. speed with someone, seeing which one of us is the most agile (spoiler: it's me). I don't really know what makes you an Outlaw, though. Is it just because you don't call any place home? Or is it because you robbed a bank at some point and are hoping that you're never caught by the authorities?

Nah. You don't have the luck or skill to rob a bank and get away with it. Never mind.

Honestly, there's a lot I don't know about you, Maxine, and the fact is, it's not like I really need to know anything at this point. After all, they don't usually introduce the jobber to the fans, do they? And that's what you are right now, Max: the jobber. It's an unenviable position to be in, I know. But that's what happens when you lose to the guy who had been on a monumental losing streak. You immediately get planted at the bottom of the ladder, in the muck and mud below it, where it's hard to get back out again.

I plan to stomp you down even further, my friend.

Because my momentum is taking me all the way to the top, and there's no way I'm letting a man like you take that away from me. Your career is already in ruins, needing a miracle to find a restoration. And I'm not in the habit of granting miracles, at least not to people like you.

Those kids at the hospital that keep calling? Maybe I'll give them one or two miracle visits. Maybe. But not you, Maxey.

Ultimately, Max, I'm going to have to do something a little distasteful at Climate Control. I'm going to have to get in that ring and fight you when you're at your lowest, and do my best to basically end your career in Sin City Wrestling. You'd think I'd relish something like that, but you'd be wrong. Because it's wasteful, Max. It's trashing something without recycling it. But if that's what happens, then so be it.

It's all part of being in the business, after all. And you know I'm all about taking care of business.


~The picture comes back further down the mountainside, where the encampment has been set up for the SCW wrestlers and crew to live at for a few days. At least, the ones who didn't want to travel too far from the action, and who didn't mind roughing it a little. Just outside one of the well-made tents, we see Vaughn adjusting what appears to be a Starlink set-up. Once it appears to be working, Vaughn heads inside, sitting down on a cot and bringing out a laptop. He types in a few commands, fixes a few settings, and then finally seems satisfied with what he sees.~

Peter Vaughn: Internet out in Machu Picchu. What wild times we live in.

~He types in a few more commands, waiting, as a Zoom call can be heard beginning to ring. Our vantage point changes to over his shoulder, as Vaughn stares at the screen. After a few seconds, the image fades into view, showing us Mr. Wyatt Bailey, the ornery old cattleman that Vaughn recently worked out a deal with, getting himself some prized Texas cattle on his land.~

Wyatt Bailey: Vaughn? That you? Why you calling me on this infernal thing? I was just about to head out!

Peter Vaughn: Sorry, Mr. Bailey, but I had a question for you. I'm looking to hire some new hands for my ranch, and I wanted to check with you for some ideas.

~For a second, it almost looks like Bailey's connection freezes, but it's just because his expression of annoyance/confusion stays stuck on his face for a few seconds.~

Wyatt Bailey: ... Vaughn, you know good and well that I recently had to hire several new hands to replace the rats you helped point out to me. I really don't have anyone you could poach from me, and I wouldn't tell you their names even if I DID have them!

Peter Vaughn: Hold on, Mr. Bailey, don't get the wrong idea. I was actually wondering where you got your replacements from. Is there, like, an online site or something?

Wyatt Bailey: You serious? I went out and found them, Vaughn, and then I hired them! They'll be all around the Dallas area, looking for work. It's not that damn hard.

Peter Vaughn: *sigh* It is when you're halfway around the world...

Wyatt Bailey: Yeah, I guess that WOULD make it a pain in the butt. Well, you'll have to figure out something, Vaughn, because I don't want my cattle I gave you starving over there. They deserve to be well taken care of. They need to be kept clean, watered, and fed. Don't make me regret my investment.

~Vaughn's eyes suddenly widen slightly, as an idea seems to come to him.

Peter Vaughn: Kept... clean. Hmmm.

Wyatt Bailey: You don't want them to get sick, right?

Peter Vaughn: No, Mr. Bailey, of course not. And don't worry, the cattle are my ranch's number one priority. Thank you for your time. I'll let you get back to... whatever you were about to do, wearing that outfit.

Wyatt Bailey: What's wrong with this? The ladies love this look!

~Mr. Bailey readjusts the collar of the western-style outfit he's wearing. It's... not the greatest of looks.~

Peter Vaughn: Hope you have a good time, sir. I'll let you go.

Wyatt Bailey: Alright, son. I'm sorry I wasn't more helpful.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, trust me, you were, Mr. Bailey. I'll talk to you later.

~Vaughn then disconnects the call, sending a confused Mr. Bailey to head out onto the town, painting it in whatever color he wants. In the meantime, Vaughn sets up another Zoom call, dialing it in. It rings for a minute before connecting.~

Bill Sykes: Hello?

Peter Vaughn: Bill? Peter Vaughn here.

Bill Sykes: ... Hello, Mr. Vaughn. What can I do for you?

Peter Vaughn: I'm needing some help with the work on my ranch...

Bill Sykes: ... What, like plumbing or janitorial help?

Peter Vaughn: No, basically all-around help... and I think the Custodial Coalition is just the way I should go. After all... who's more dependable than custodians?

~A very puzzled Bill Sykes keeps talking to Vaughn, having no other option. That's because Vaughn is still the head of the Custodial Coalition, a position he inherited from the former Head Custodian last year. It's a union of janitorial server workers all around the United States (and also in a few other countries), working as an underground unit to better the lives of custodians all over. While Bill sounds skeptical, Vaughn is already pushing ahead, his idea seemingly too perfect to fail, as we slowly fade out.~


Sometimes my own brilliance amazes even me. Of course custodians would be amazing working on a ranch! After all, look at me and my background! It's going to work out flawlessly, I'm sure of it.

Just as I'm completely certain that I'll be dominating you at Climate Control, Steal. The only real question in my mind is if you'll even show up. It wouldn't shock me if I walk out to the ring, raising up my Roulette Championship above my head, and I end up all alone out there, listening to "Evil Ways" playing without anyone showing up. That spotlight, just highlighted on the entryway, with no sign of movement behind the curtains.

But again, maybe you'll take the other road and come to fight, and hey, I'll take that, too. It won't change the outcome, but it will make things more entertaining, for sure. In the end, though, that referee WILL be raising my hand at the end of the contest, whether it's due to pinfall, submission, countout, or a forfeit. I'll take any of them, really, to record another victory in Sin City.

You see, I'm still treading water here in the company, because Goth's return is imminent. He'll rocket to the top of the federation, and I plan to travel along in his wake, as I take my place near the most dominant competitors in the main event. I've already taken the Roulette Title to new heights, and I'll continue to bring glory to myself and the Saviors in the months to come.

And at some point, whether Goth gets there or not... that World Title will still be on my mind sooner rather than later.

But none of that matters to you, Maxie. All that matters is how quickly you go down.

Just show up. Take the beating. Take the paycheck and whatever exit fee they're willing to give you as they kick you out the door. Use the money to find life somewhere else, in some other part of the world.

Or prove you belong here. It's up to you.

Prepare yourself for the Plunge, boyo.


31
Climax Control Archives / Expansion, Exploitation, & Exploration
« on: July 21, 2023, 10:55:03 PM »
~The picture slowly comes up on what appears to be a heavily-leveled field. There is no grass or weeds to be seen, at least not in front of the camera, as the dirt seems pretty heavily worked on. In the background, we can see a large dump truck leaving the area, seemingly filled to the brim with concrete slabs of various shapes and sizes. The camera slowly turns, showing us more of a 'vacant' area, even though we can see some buildings ahead of us, showing that this section of land is a zoned-off area in a city somewhere. The camera moves again to the right, and this time we see Peter Vaughn approaching us, pushing in front of him what appears to be a heavily-modified cordless tiller. It's chewing up the ground as it approaches, thanks to a few extra blades having been attached. It's honestly a little scary to see, and it must be just as terrifying in person, because the cameraman quickly begins backing up to try and get out of range. Vaughn, though, shuts the machine off, stepping around it and nodding to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: About time you got here. I'm about done with this part of the work. Hey, you ever consider helping some with the labor, instead of just filming? No? I didn't think so.

~Vaughn smirks, before stepping back over to the tiller and checking it over. The engine is still hissing, with Vaughn studying it for a moment, making sure it's hanging in there. He looks back at the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: Sure, some might say building in a V8 mini into a ground-shredder like this is overkill. They're probably right. But hey, it sure makes the work easier when I need it. It's also good for parts if needed.

~Vaughn pats the tiller on the side, and it almost seems to grunt from the contact, as if it's alive. And with Vaughn, you never really know, although odds are pretty heavy that the noise was just a coincidence. Either way, Vaughn gets back to his feet, still smiling as he wipes some sweat off his brow.~

Peter Vaughn: You may wonder why I'm out here again at the old warehouse site. I'm sure you thought, now that it's been torn down, you wouldn't have to come here anymore. Well, you'd be wrong. I've got plans for this place. Big plans. You'll see.

~He glances around at the 'field' once more before focusing his energy back on the camera lens.~

Peter Vaughn: That being said, how about we talk about Sin City? I'm sure that's why most of the folks are watching this, after all. So after that little cruise, I've managed to continue my Roulette Title run. It was a valiant effort... from one of my opponents, at least... but I now have an Ultimate X victory on my list of achievements. It was a good feeling, holding up my belt, even if my team wasn't able to win later in the night. But hey, sometimes that happens. What matters is that I continue to be the most dominant singles wrestler in SCW to never have had a Heavyweight Title match here. Something to think about, boyos.

~Vaughn grins, shrugging it off with a sly wink to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: Still, we're moving up in the world. I've even been booked in the main event for Climax Control, putting up my belt on the line once again. For the second time, it's against a man I beat to win the title. But it's not Milo once more, no... it's Barnhart. Bill Barnhart. The man I keep hearing described as a legend and Hall of Famer, yet someone who has yet to ever bring his A game to the table against me. It's really a conundrum for me.

~Vaughn's phone beeps, and he takes a quick look at it, nodding, before continuing his train of thought.~

Peter Vaughn: After all, let's face it: I only want to be facing the best. I want to take on all the challenges that Sin City has to offer, and find a way to blast through all of them. And that brings me to Barnhart, the Hall of Famer who's been losing constantly lately. I just haven't seen that fire that I'm wanting to see, befitting someone who's challenging for my gold. But I made a vow not to underestimate anyone. I even came into the cruise trying to give The Troll the benefit of the doubt. I mean, clearly, nothing I did would have mattered as he eliminated himself so damn quickly, but I did my best to try and consider him the tiniest of threats.

~Vaughn shows his index finger and his thumb only the slightest bit apart, measuring out the Troll's threat level the best he can.~

Peter Vaughn: So I don't want to overlook the Bulldog. I really don't. But I'm going to put out this plea to him just in case. Bill... you're supposed to be worth a damn in the squared circle. You're supposed to be someone I should be worried about as a top contender. So can you man up and be that guy one more time? Make it a fight worth winning, where I walk away thinking I managed to scrape through by the skin of my teeth? Or are you going to disappoint me once again, leaving me thinking that your retirement has to be just over the horizon? I look forward to your answer, Bill. I look forward to your decision.

~There's a loud noise behind the cameraman, making him jump. It's a truck horn, blaring out to alert the two men that the large vehicle has arrived. The cameraman spins around, focusing on the large Dodge backing towards them, its back fully loaded with what appear to be rolled-up grass strips. There appears to be plenty of grass, especially when we see two more trucks pulling up as well. Vaughn smiles, happy to see them.~

Peter Vaughn: Cool. I just need to make a few more passes, and then the next phase will begin. I'm telling you, this is going to be a hell of a plan, friend. It's all moving ahead like clockwork.

~Vaughn moves back to his tiller contraption, getting it ready to start once more. He looks back at the cameraman, pausing for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: You sure you don't want to join in and help us? A little exercise never hurts, although for a cameraman, you're in decent shape.

~The camera slowly shakes left to right, signifying a reluctance to join in whatever crazy scheme Vaughn is currently brewing in. Vaughn shrugs, then reaches down for the cord.~

Peter Vaughn: Your loss.

~With a yank, the noisy engine starts up again. Vaughn begins to effortlessly move forward, continuing to till up the soil around his zoned area. The trucks get themselves lined up, with the workers stepping out to start unloading their cargo. Sensing that the activity is about to pick up in intensity, the cameraman slowly retreats, keeping the camera trained on Vaughn's efforts until we finally fade out.~


~The shot returns, this time coming from what appears to be an office window overseeing the plains of Texas. We can see the beautiful view in the reflection, even as Wyatt Bailey, one of the top cattle distributors in the state, steps forward, staring out the window. He has a phone up to one ear, apparently in mid-conversation. Thankfully, in spite of the glass, we can hear what he's saying through the magic of editing.~

Wyatt Bailey: You're still a smug son of a bitch, you know that, right?

~Bailey turns away from the window, as we suddenly find ourselves inside his office. He steps over to a nearby computer, typing away with one hand to bring up an apparent invoice.~

Wyatt Bailey: Okay, okay. It says here two dozen head of cattle will be delivered to your ranch this weekend. I know you were wanting more, but I need some assurances that you can actually handle this much before you go any bigger. After all, you've never wrangled cattle before, have you, Vaughn?

~The screen suddenly divides, and we see Peter Vaughn standing on the other side, leaning against a large wall of rock. He's got his own phone up to his head, although it's a much larger variation than Mr. Bailey is using. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Maybe not officially, but I've always been good with animals, Mr. Bailey, and you know I hire only the best to work at my ranch.

Wyatt Bailey: Uh huh. I saw that Sadie you have over there. Quite a looker.

Peter Vaughn: That has nothing to do with how talented she is as a ranch hand.

Wyatt Bailey: You're right, of course. I can't help being a little old-school, but I'm sure she's plenty qualified. Still, you're not going to see another head of cattle from me until some time has passed and it's clear you deserve to have them, you understand?

Peter Vaughn: Fair enough. But I'm telling you, *static* can be trusted to *static* when I need them.

Wyatt Bailey: What was that, Vaughn? You broke up some there. Where are you calling me from, anyway? Your ranch?

Peter Vaughn: Not exactly.

~The camera split suddenly ends, as we're fully focused on Vaughn. He looks around his surroundings, as the camera zooms out, showing us the ruins he's currently standing in. It appears to be The Dam in Petra, Jordan, where SCW's Climax Control is set to take place this weekend.~

Peter Vaughn: Look, you have nothing to worry about, Mr. Bailey. I trust my staff implicitly. Every animal will be taken care of. For now, I've got to take care of some business. I see my ride coming around the corner. I'll talk to you later.

~Vaughn presses a button on the satellite phone, cutting it off. He then turns to his left, where we see a man approaching, guiding a large camel. The camel takes one look at Vaughn and spits to the side, before giving a small, annoyed grunt. Vaughn just stares at the creature for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: "The Ship of the Desert", huh? Okay, we'll do as locals do. Where's the stirrup to get up there?

~The man, apparently understanding what Vaughn was asking, just grins. He says a command to the camel, who reluctantly goes down on his knees. There is no saddle, of course. Vaughn takes it in, looking a little disappointed.~

Peter Vaughn: Guess I should have worn a cup today. Oh well. Let's get a move on, I haven't got all day.

~Vaughn positions himself on the camel, which quickly raises back up. The man then begins to guide them away from the Dam, as Vaughn works to sit as comfortably as possible. It's no easy task.~


Sometimes you just ride the position you're given. Isn't that right, Billy?

I mean, c'mon. Let's go over some recent history here. It's a year in review for Mr. Barnhart, 2023. It's kind of... well, I don't want to whitewash it, but from all appearances, it's pretty much sucked for you, hasn't it? Oh, sure, you started the year with my Roulette Title, but Goth quickly took that one away from you in January at Inception VI. Since then, well, you just haven't found your fire after getting scorched by the Saviors, have you?

Look at this list. You and Senor Vinnie lost to the Saviors in February. You got your rear handed to you by Chris Page at Blaze of Glory XI. And then you started to come into my airspace, didn't you? You took that loss to Malachi, then got to be the referee in my match against him. And after I knocked Malachi cold and got you to count to 3 (good job, by the way), I laid you out as well with the Keyholder.

Oh, did I forget to mention your Dog Collar loss to Alexander Raven? He beat you pretty badly, too, didn't he?

The losses to me continued at Into The Void XII, when I took both you and Malachi down to begin my epic Roulette Title reign. Then, wonder of wonders, you showed signs of life. You actually won a match! Sure, it was against Sal Darius, a guy I've never heard of, but it counts, man! You're in the record books with a victory in 2023! Congrats!

Sorry to say, that's about the last bright spot, though, isn't it? Because the Barnharts would go on to lose a contender's opportunity to Alexander Raven & Luna Vanity. But you tried to shake that off, saying that you deserved to be in the ring still with the best of the best. I guess that's why you agreed to matches against Austin James Mercer and J2H, right?

Neither of those went particularly well, did they?

To cap it all off, you were given a #1 contenders match at Summer XXXTreme XI, a chance for the Barnharts to finally pull themselves out of the losing column. All you had to do was beat Ben Jordan & Sam Marlowe! That's it! Yeah. Man, bummer that the losses kept happening for you. But at least you got to face Team Go on Climax Control... oh. Never mind. You lost that too.

So by my count, that's 11 losses this year. Sure, it's been against some intense competition a lot of the time, but that's still not a great record. Surely not one that signifies that you've earned yourself a Roulette Championship rematch. But I guess we're still trending on history, aren't we, Billy? You once were one of the best here, so you keep getting the benefit of the doubt... when what I really think is for you to go back to the bottom of the ladder and stay there for a while.

I don't mean to sound too condescending. But the fact is, Billy, you've lost something. You've got to find it again if you want to be competitive in Sin City, facing wrestlers like Austin, J2H, and myself. Right now, the higher-ups aren't doing any favors putting you against me. I don't care what kind of a payday you're getting for this main event appearance.

It's not worth it.

Just trust me on this, Billy. After we fight, when I plant you into the ground and get the 1-2-3, adding yet another loss to your record this year, go and talk to management. Tell them you want to face some lower-level opponents and regain your mojo. Tell them you need to rebuild your reputation from scratch, fight your way up the ladder, and maybe find a path to once again becoming this Hall of Famer I've heard so much about.

Hey, I'm pulling for you. As I've said earlier, I want to face the best. I'm just not sure you're ready for me yet.

It's just a lousy position for you to be in, apparently.


~The man in front slows the camel as they come up on a set of constructed buildings and fences near the ruins of Petra. The camel once again lowers, maybe a little quicker this time, happy to be getting rid of the wrestler on his back. Vaughn may not be a big powerhouse, but he's not light as a feather, either. He happily gets off the camel, walking gingerly for a few steps as he regains his 'sand' legs. He then straightens up, nodding to the guide before walking over to the group that's waiting for him.~

Peter Vaughn: Ibrahim?

~The man in the center, wearing a slightly more expensive wardrobe than the men around him, steps forward and does a quick bow.~

Ibrahim Saleh: It is good to meet you at last, Mr. Peter Vaughn.

~Vaughn returns the nod, adjusting his tanned coveralls for a moment before moving into step with Saleh and his men. They head inside a nearby building, which is mostly fabric with a few wooden walls. It is clearly built more as a mobile location.~

Ibrahim Saleh: So I hope you had a pleasant trip into our country.

Peter Vaughn: I can't complain... about most of it...

~Vaughn shakes out one leg, which gets a laugh from Saleh.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Yes, I would imagine camels must take time to get used to, after riding horses like you cowboys always do.

Peter Vaughn: It's certainly a different experience. But then, that's why I'm here. For different experiences.

Ibrahim Saleh: So you say. I remember the deal you proposed well. Do you truly think that some of my livestock would work in your new... ranch, is it?

Peter Vaughn: I am still looking to expand it piece by piece. I've already added chickens, pigs, and now cattle to my ranks. I have horses, but I'm short of manual labor animals, such as donkeys and mules.

Ibrahim Saleh: And camels?

Peter Vaughn: I'm not sure camels would do so well in Texas. It's a pretty different environment. But I'd be willing to consider any alternatives.

Ibrahim Saleh: Indeed. Well, Mr. Vaughn, let me show you what we have currently! They are right back here.

~The group makes it way out the back of the building, through what appears to be a man-made door in the fabric. We see several fenced area set up, with the animals separated from each other. There appear to be a good supply of donkeys, mules, and camels, as well as a few other animals further back. Vaughn's eyes narrow slightly as he walks towards the first block, taking a few extra steps so that he can leap over the fence. Saleh laughs behind him.~

Ibrahim Saleh: You could have easily used the gate, Mr. Vaughn. It is right down here.

~Saleh and his group laugh to each other, saying a few words in a language that Vaughn doesn't understand. He's not listening, anyway, as he studies one of the donkeys standing there. It looks to be worn out, in rough shape from a lot of work hours having been put in. It stares at Vaughn, almost pleadingly, as he reaches out and grabs the heavy chain hanging from the donkey's neck. You can see some scraping underneath the chain, where it's done damage to the skin. Vaughn steps around this donkey and checks on another, which appears to be favoring its right front leg. Vaughn looks it over, patting on it, as Saleh and the rest of his group make their way over to them. Saleh seems to take in where Vaughn is looking, as he shakes his head for a moment.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Oh, Mr. Vaughn, you've come to the wrong area, I'm afraid! If you look further back along the fence line, I'm sure we can find much better surplus for you to work with. These animals in the front are mostly used up. But if you want to talk a deal about them...

~Vaughn doesn't answer. Not in words. But he does suddenly stand up straight, wrapping the chain he just took off the donkey around his hand. Saleh, confused, steps closer.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Is there a problem. Mr. Vau-

~The chain hits Saleh in the chest, knocking him backwards into the group. They all manage to catch Saleh before he falls, which is too bad, as he would have gone right into a pile of 'fertilizer' created by the donkeys in the pen.~

Peter Vaughn: There's no problem. Ibrahim. I appear to be exactly where I need to be.

~Saleh coughs, trying to get his breath back, as the other men begin to shout for others to come. Vaughn, meanwhile, straightens up, readjusting the chain.~


I never like to be out of control in any situation. Of course, being the Roulette Champion, that feels very ironic.

You see, that might still be your best chance to slip in there somewhere, Billy. As you know, the wheel will likely spin, deciding on our contest in the main event, and I, as the champion, have no power on what match it ends up on. Now, obviously, there are some that are very favorable to me. If it lands on a Ladder match again, well, you're pretty much toast and should just stay in the back buttering yourself up while I take the victory.

If it ends up being any kind of agility challenge, I'm the obvious choice to pull way ahead of your bulky self. So I assume you're going to be hoping for more of a hardcore variety, but then, I enjoy myself in those kind of matches too. But what if, say, it ends up being a power maneuver match? What if I have to give you a powerbomb or something?

I mean, you've clearly put on weight lately, haven't you?

I do think I'd still find a way, even though it sounds like a tall order. But then, there are so many other possibilities. What about an Inferno match? If you ended up on fire, watching that beard of yours burn away, it'd be an amazing sight. Talk about giving yourself a disadvantage with that long growth on your face!

Oh, but what if it's a shaving challenge? Would I win automatically, or would I lose just because I have less to shave?

That'd be a pretty boring match either way, though, so I don't think they'd put it on the wheel.

Suffice to say, you and I can't fully be prepared for our contest, can we? Really, anything could pop up as our match of the night. But I've wrestled in all sorts of weird and wild concepts the last two years. At this point, it'd take a lot to surprise me and take me off-guard. But with Sin City, hey, you never know.

What if it turns out to be a Dog Collar match, which should be one of your specialties, and yet I still beat you? Would you be able to survive that, Billy? Would you just walk out of the arena afterwards, retirement speech already being written inside your mind, as you get ready to give up on this sport that made you famous?

I'd rather you didn't quit because of me, Billy. Not because I'd feel bad about it, but it would probably be used as ammunition against me for years to come. "I'm Coming For You Because You Made The Bulldog Quit!!" Yeah, I don't need that kind of harassment. So if you announce your retirement, could you slip in another match first? Maybe give Milo another opportunity, he'd probably be pleased.

Overall, Billy, we'll see what the Roulette Gods have in store with us, if any of them actually exist. Whatever the end result, I know that I'm going to come into this one giving 110% or more of myself to make sure my title reign continues. And you may say it's not possible to go over 100%, but then, that's what losers say to themselves. When you believe you can't give any more of yourself, that's when you've been defeated in life.

And I never let myself lose like that, Billy. I always keep myself in control. Always.


Ibrahim Saleh: SAEID!! TAEAL ALAA HUNA!!

~With Saleh's yell, more men come running from all directions, as Vaughn waits patiently, chain still wrapped around his hand. The numbers have now turned against him for sure, as a dozen men move around him. Some look ready for a fight, while others simply look puzzled at how a business deal has turned against them. Saleh, for his part, looks furious at having been hit.~

Ibrahim Saleh: I don't know what you are thinking, Mr. Vaughn, but you have made a grave mistake!

Peter Vaughn: Have I now? You believe so?

~Fuming, Saleh pulls what appears to be an antique pistol out of his pocket, holding it in his left hand.~

Ibrahim Saleh: You should not have put your hands on me.

Peter Vaughn: And you shouldn't have abused these animals, Ibrahim.

Ibrahim Saleh: Abuse? We do not abuse! We put them to work! They are doing what they are supposed to be doing!

Peter Vaughn: They're supposed to be having the chains so tight around them that damage is done? They're supposed to work without stopping until they are dead? This is no way to treat your animals, Ibrahim.

Ibrahim Saleh: You know nothing of our culture, Mr. Vaughn. But you are about to learn more about it.

~With that, the men start to step forward, only to stop when Vaughn clicks his tongue, before raising up his wrapped fist once again.~

Peter Vaughn: So you're all thinking right now, can we take him? Can the dozen of us manage to beat down this man from the West who has caused so much chaos throughout the fighting world? You've seen him break noses and shatter jaws. You've seen him do absolutely anything it takes to come out victorious. So can our group take him? And how many will fall before they do?

~Vaughn takes a slight step towards the men. A few actually step back, looking nervous. Saleh doesn't, as he still has his gun drawn, ready to use it at a moment's notice.~

Peter Vaughn: It'd be a hell of a fight between us, boyos. I wish we could see it. But unfortunately, it's not meant to be, I guess. Rutabaga.

~Vaughn stops talking, waiting, as all of the men look around at each other, puzzled.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Rutabaga? What do you mean, rutabaga? Is that an insult?

Peter Vaughn: No, no, it's just a word they told me to say. Silly, really. I also thought they'd react quicker. Rutabaga?

~Vaughn waits a few more seconds, but nothing happens. He starts tapping on the left side of his coveralls, as if trying to make something work. Selah grimaces, angrily grabbing at his pistol and clicking off the safety.~

Ibrahim Saleh: I know nothing about this rutabaga! You've made this word up!

Random Guy: Actually, I've heard of it. It's like a yellow vegetable, but they taste like a carrot, only less sweet. I think they call it a Swedish turnip usually.

~Vaughn, Selah, and all the other thugs slowly turn towards the man, staring at him. He looks a little defensive.~

Random Guy: I like the Food Network when we can get it! Alton Brown is incredible!

~Selah sighs, rubbing his face with the non-armed hand.~

Ibrahim Saleh: I'm sorry. This is my cousin, and you know we have to hire family...

Peter Vaughn: Say no more. I know how that goes.

Ibrahim Saleh: If we can get back to...

Peter Vaughn: ... what we were doing, yes. Hey, Rutabaga? RUTABAGA!!!

~As Vaughn's voice echoes throughout the area, the sound of multiple engines starting up is heard all around. Suddenly, several vehicles pull in around the fences, startling the group as they face away from Vaughn, who lets out a breath of relief. The men with Saleh turn, seeing others riding in from both sides on camels, armed and aiming their direction. The cluster of forces quickly surround them, making a second circle to block them in. Saleh, beside himself with fury, starts to raise up his pistol, but Vaughn is there, quick as a cat, grabbing his arm.~

Peter Vaughn: I really wouldn't do that, Ibrahim. I really think they're just waiting for the opportunity here. They've apparently wanted you for a long time. Don't let them just kill you off for nothing.

~His face fading in color, Saleh drops the pistol to the ground. All the others drop their own weapons as well, mostly knives and tools, as the forces move in, corralling them back. One man in particular comes up to Vaughn, nodding to him.~

Officer: Your distraction worked. We found everything we needed to find once the spaces were unoccupied for the search. We've got enough there to put away Ibrahim Selah for a long time. He won't be running his illegal operations anymore.

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. Glad to have helped. Make sure you include in your report to the government my involvement, okay?

~The man nods and walks away, dragging a furious Saleh with him. As the rest of the group starts to get broken up, a lady in a duck-billed hat walks over to Vaughn. She is all smiles, looking extremely pleased as she stares over at the pens holding all the animals.~

Woman: This all went just as you expected, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: For the most part, yes. I didn't plan on riding a camel, but other than that...

Woman: Well, you've done an amazing service for us. On behalf of PETA, I'd like to thank you for your efforts in saving these animals.

Peter Vaughn: Sure. They all look like they need a good, long break for the time being. So... is our deal still in place?

~The woman from PETA hesitates for a moment, then nods. Vaughn breaks into a large grin, before walking back over to the pen and staring at the donkeys again.~


When a plan comes through successfully, it always brings a strong feeling of satisfaction to you. Sure, it may not go EXACTLY as you planned, but it's the end result that matters.

As for Billy... well, I've got a few plans for him. All set up depending on what I see in Petra that night. If it's the 2023 Billy who's been unable to tie his own shoes without falling over? Obviously, the plan is much more simple. But there's always the chance that the 2021 Bulldog finds a way to show up, which means I have to be ready for a fight.

Even if I don't really expect it.

But I can still have hope, Bully. I can still have faith that you're going to give me some actual competition for this one. Do you have it in you, Bulldog? Do you still have a main event flair? Can you make me concerned about Sweet Dreams, about the shoulder breaker, or about the Camel Clutch?

... Seriously, I've already had issues with camels on this trip, I'd prefer to avoid that if at all possible.

If you can find a way to fire yourself up for 5 minutes, senior, I think we can have a match that people will be talking about for a long time. If you could make it 10 minutes, well, I think some people will assume that you got some medical assistance before coming out there, but as long as there are no side effects, I think we can both survive that.

If you're still going after three hours, though, maybe see a doctor.

Look, I make fun, but all-in-all, I really do want the true Bulldog in there. I don't want this white-washed carbon copy that has sucked the fun out of every bingo hall to the east of the Mississippi. I want a true test, because only then does it matter. I want to hear the people say "He defeated "Bulldog" Bill Barnhart" and have it ACTUALLY MEAN SOMETHING!!!

So be there, Bulldog. Get your ass to Jordan and give me the fight I crave. Let's make the Roulette Championship the belt everyone wants, and let J2H go off crying about how his belt just isn't as pretty. We'll spin the wheel, make a deal, and have a meal afterwards, if you can still chew your food once I've kicked you in the face a few times. Because if you show up, if you're actually in a competitive move, I'm buying.

I seriously don't know what restaurants are around here, I haven't seen much other than a few stands, but we'll find something.

Even if you're at full power BULL, though, don't be expecting a different result, because no matter what you bring to the table, I've got the better hand. Whether it's the Keyholder knocking you senseless, the Revenged chipping out some teeth, or when you're taking the Plunge, the ending's going to be the same.

I am the champion, and you, Billy, your time is almost up.


~As all the excitement starts to wind down, Vaughn steps off to the side, staying away from where more men are being arrested. He reaches into his side bag, pulling out his satellite phone once again. It's unclear if this has been modified by Vaughn or not, as we've never seen him work with anything so small before. Then again, the Custodial Coalition HAS been known to tinker, so it's possible. Either way, the phone still works, as he dials in his number and waits as it rings.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. It's Peter. I thought I'd call and get a few updates. How's... how's Thomas doing?

Sadie Anderson: Peter! It's good to hear your voice!

~As always, Sadie's comment flies right over Vaughn's head, as he doesn't react to it. But then, who knows what Vaughn is thinking, after everything he learned from his tag-team partner, Kim Pain.~

Peter Vaughn: So how's... how's Thomas doing?

~The line is quiet for a moment, as Vaughn seems to steel himself for the worst.~

Sadie Anderson: Thomas is... still doing okay. He hasn't woken up yet, though, I'm afraid. The doctors say it's natural when you're trying to recover from a wound like he had.

~Vaughn nods, taking a deep breath. Just recently, his half-brother Thomas Hill had been stabbed in a plot that focused on Vaughn. He hated to leave him, but multiple reasons forced him to go back on the road.~

Peter Vaughn: Thanks for looking in on him, Sadie. I appreciate it. How are the new pens coming along?

Sadie Anderson: We're in good shape on the ones for the cattle we have coming in. I know the other boys are still working on that second fenced area you wanted. I still don't understand why we need it, though.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, about that... I might have worked us out a deal to get some donkeys, mules, and camels added to our inventory.

Sadie Anderson: ... What??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, you see... I kind of worked something with the local PETA offices here in Petra. Heh, PETA in Petra, nice word play, right?

Sadie Anderson: ... Keep talking.

Peter Vaughn: Right. Anyway, there was this guy who was known for treating his animals pretty badly, and so I worked out a deal with PETA and the government here to find a way to remove him. It worked out almost flawlessly, too. They found all the evidence they needed. His group's in prison now, or at least, they probably will be soon.

~There's silence on the other end, going long enough that Vaughn starts to wonder if they've been disconnected. But then there's a sigh as Sadie seems to figure it out.~

Sadie Anderson: You scammed them all, didn't you? You got those animals at rock-bottom prices, while barely doing anything to earn it.

Peter Vaughn: ... Hey, I had a gun pointed at me. Doesn't that mean I earned it?

Sadie Anderson: And this 'evidence' you said they found... was it placed there for them to find?

Peter Vaughn: ... I have no comment.

Sadie Anderson: PETER!!

Peter Vaughn: Honestly, though, Sadie, you should see some of these animals. The chain wounds and the damaged backs and legs, it's not going to be easy rehabilitating all of them. Trust me, they deserve to get out of here.

Sadie Anderson: But... but how are you getting them all back here?? I doubt SCW is going to pay for all that cargo!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, don't worry, the government is gladly footing the relocation bill. We don't have to worry about it.

~Vaughn smiles at the thought of so much coming his way for so little. Sadie, though, still doesn't seem impressed.~

Sadie Anderson: I still don't know what we're going to do with a bunch of donkeys, mules, and.... wait, did you say CAMELS???

Peter Vaughn: Yes, but...

Sadie Anderson: We can't have camels here!!! It would make no sense!!

Peter Vaughn: It's not a problem. I've already enlisted the help of a guy named Ali. He's going to be running this subsidiary of the PMV Ranch here in Jordan.

Sadie Anderson: ... Subsidiary??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. The camels and some of the mules and donkeys that are in better condition will be staying here. We'll be renting them out like before, only they'll be better cared for. Ali's good for that. We'll be splitting the profits 50/50.

Sadie Anderson: ... You've really thought of everything.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, nobody can think of EVERYTHING, but I've got this bow wrapped up pretty well as far as I can tell. I'll let you know when I know more about the travel accommodations of the livestock. We're doing well, Sadie. Take a deep breath. The PMV Ranch is going international, that's all. I'll talk to you later, okay? Goodbye.

~For a second, there's a bit of sputtering on the other line, as if Sadie wants to say more, but Vaughn is already disconnecting the call. He looks back around, noticing an officer heading towards his still-running truck. Vaughn hurries over to him, making sure to reveal himself as soon as the officer turns around.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me. I was wondering... my previous ride over here is, uh, occupied... and I was hoping that maybe you could give me a ride back to where the SCW wrestlers are staying? I'd be extremely appreciative.

~The officer agrees, since he's headed that way anyway, so Vaughn goes around to the passenger seat. He takes a second to look out at the pens, spotting a particular camel that's watching him... and apparently spitting in his direction. Vaughn smirks.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I'm glad to never see you again, too, camel.

~Vaughn then gets into the truck and it pulls away, leaving the area behind. We fade out.~


32
Supercard Archives / Drivers & Deniers - A Roulette Championship RP #2
« on: June 30, 2023, 11:18:08 PM »
~The picture slowly comes up on a great deal of flashing lights and loud noises. Hopefully, no one is triggered by this, as we forgot to put a warning right before the video began. Sorry, our bad. So, be careful. The camera pans around, showing us that we're actually inside the casino area of the Princess Cruise, a place where the liner can make a lot of extra money on the poor bums who are having such a good time, they don't even notice their wallets emptying. The cameraman moves among the people at the different machines, many of them who probably aren't even wrestling fans. They were here for the thrill of gambling, nothing else. As the cameraman goes around another corner, he finds a special machine added just for this cruise: an Sin City Wrestling slot machine. Standing in front of it is Peter Vaughn, nicely dressed for once, as part of his deal with Kim Pain.~

Peter Vaughn: What's up, boyo? Care to test your odds?

~Vaughn taps at the side of the machine, where we can see the rules and odds of winning listed. He reaches down, using the special club card to activate the machine. He then pulls the handle, sending the icons spinning across.~

Peter Vaughn: Let's face it, this machine is perfect for SCW. Every match always appears to be a lucky twist of fate... or unlucky, depending on who it is. Why, look at this match-up?

~The dials finish twirling, showing us that we've gotten two Austin Ramseys and an Alexander Raven. Predictably, no money is added to the card for this pairing, as those two rarely sell.~

Peter Vaughn: Bad luck means that you get something that doesn't work. Good luck means that maybe you find a way to win.

~Vaughn reaches down and snaps back the handle again, starting the spin once more. The machine is keeping track, deducting the cost from Vaughn's card. It continues to twirl, as Vaughn suddenly picks up his phone from beside the machine. We can see that a wired connection has been made between the phone and the slots, although Vaughn is doing his best to keep this concealed from anyone else's view.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, when you're as good as I am, you don't have to rely on luck, do you?

~With a couple of button presses, the slot seems to make a change of its own, with the spinners finally ending up on one Troll... two Trolls... three Trolls! The machine lights up... but there is only a quick ding from the cash mark-up, as nothing is added to the card other than the value that had already been put into it. Vaughn nods, expecting this result.~

Peter Vaughn: That makes perfect sense. Why would any combination of Trolls add up to being a winner? Clearly, I should have just lost everything I had on the card, if it was true to life. Betting on the Troll should probably bankrupt me. But, thankfully, the makers of this machine weren't that cruel. Honestly, they probably could have left the Troll off of this one and it would have been fine. I guess they wanted everyone on the card included? Still... not much to work with, there.

~Vaughn once again grabs the handle, but then hesitates. He looks back at the cameraman for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously, do you want to spin it? It's kind of addictive.

~After a short hesitation, the cameraman steps forward, going ahead and cranking on the machine's handle. The spinning begins again, with the shot taking a step back once more. Vaughn pats the slots on the side, even while he's once again manipulating the phone.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's see, will our cameraman be a winner?

~Thanks, surely, to Vaughn's hack into the system, the spinners all end up on Miles Kasey. It's not the greatest picture of him, to be honest. Maybe the programmers didn't have access to a good photo of him, which honestly is strange, because he's certainly not terrible looking. Either way, this time the money recorder lights up, and $100 is deposited onto Vaughn's playing card. Vaughn nods in approval.~

Peter Vaughn: Nice job, boyo. Three Milos equals $100. I suppose I can see that. After all, Milo's been in the main event before for Sin City. He's shown the world that he can fight at the top level... even if he has trouble pulling off the victory once he's there. But Milo's a good star for Sin City, and extremely competitive. I really am looking forward to beating him once again, this time in a race across the wires. Still... I think we can do better.

~Vaughn reaches over with his arm, grabbing hold of the handle... at the same time the cameraman's hand lands on another part. The two look at each other, with Vaughn laughing.~

Peter Vaughn: I warned you it was addictive.

~Vaughn then voluntarily lets go, stepping away, as the cameraman gives it another shot. The spinners fly, as Vaughn makes some selections on his phone. Slowly, the spinners come into place, with one Vaughn... two Vaughns... three Vaughns. The machine starts letting out a loud, celebratory blast, even as a large dollar figure starts to be added to the card. People all around look over, always interested in the big winners. Of course, Vaughn quickly has removed the cable from below, tucking it away in his pocket, knowing that the attention would be a problem. When the machine stops beeping, we can see that $1,000 has been added to Vaughn's card.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh. You would think that you'd get more for three Vaughn's. That's a winning hand, right there, no matter how you look at it.

~Vaughn shrugs, reaching down and plucking his card out of the machine. He pockets it, walking away, even as a few people move in, now interested in some slots that might actually be paying off. Unfortunately, they'll have to do it the old-fashioned way. The cameraman, meanwhile, follows Vaughn over to where a roulette table is set up. The woman there nods to Vaughn without saying anything, even as Vaughn pulls out a small handful of chips. He looks back at the cameraman for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: What's your lucky number?

~The cameraman doesn't really have a verbal answer, as he just raises his hand up. But Vaughn nods, immediately putting the chips on 5. He steps back, smiling, as the worker nods and starts spinning the roulette wheel.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, it's rather sad that the roulette wheel won't be in play for my defense this time. But then, I guess there's no harm in knowing what the competition's going to be before we get there. It makes it rather an even playing field, doesn't it? Other than the fact that I'm so far ahead of both of them. Still, I'm going to miss the randomness of it. Maybe I can make a few surprise changes, depending on what I bring with me to the match. I guess we'll see if it can raise the unpredictability, when the ending is so, so clear.

~Vaughn points down at the wheel, which is quickly slowing down... with the small marble now sitting in the 22 position. The worker quickly sweeps away the chips, with Vaughn turning to the cameraman and shrugging his shoulders, still smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, but that would have been so cool if it just landed on your lucky number, right? Guess I needed you to be an Emmitt Smith fan. But that's alright. I already made my profit here, and I'm going to make my profit here in a few days at the Ultimate X match. It's going to be a hell of a ride.

~Still grinning, Vaughn walks away, leaving the cameraman behind. He watches Vaughn depart... and then turns back to where the Sin City slots machine is still sitting, with one person just finishing a roll. The cameraman starts to head back over there, as we start to fade out. I guess Vaughn was right: that slots machine IS addicting.~


~As the picture comes back up, we see a long, green carpet in front of us. It's actually artificial turf, set up on the back of the cruise liner, as part of their benefit packages. The camera zooms out a little to show Peter Vaughn standing there, golf club in hand, as he prepares to take a swing off the 'driving range'.~

Peter Vaughn: Gotta say, this feels pretty unique. The few times I've played golf, I always knew to try and avoid the water hazards. It looks pretty impossible here, though.

~There's a short laugh next to him, as the camera pans over, showing Wyatt Bailey standing there, leaning on his own golf club. He doesn't seem nearly as thrilled with what they're doing, but he's doing his best to make it appear better than it is.~

Wyatt Bailey: I know golf is a patient game, but I've got other things to do than to sit here and wait for you to swing. C'mon, Vaughn!

Peter Vaughn: Just waiting for the perfect wave surge. And... there.

~The cruise ship does seem to rise slightly, as if hitting a bit of wake. Vaughn immediately swings, driving the decomposable golf ball deep into the distance. There's no real way to measure it from the cruise ship, but it's still a beautiful shot. Mr. Bailey shakes his head in annoyance, as Vaughn turns to him with a smile.~

Peter Vaughn: Something tells me I'm getting that drink paid for.

~Grumbling, Mr. Bailey steps forward, determined to hit a better drive. He tries to wait for the perfect lift as well, but his timing's off, causing him to rush... and he slices the shot over to the right. After a few curses, Mr. Bailey comes back over to Vaughn, ignoring the urge to send the golf club flying.~

Peter Vaughn: Sure you don't want to up the stakes? We could start betting on cattle prices.

Wyatt Bailey: Not happening, Vaughn. You already got me on this dang cruise ship. I'm still waiting for the women you promised me!

Peter Vaughn: What are you talking about? They're all over the place, aren't they?

Wyatt Bailey: But you're not introducing them to me! I thought you were a ladies man!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, you couldn't be further from the truth. You've got a much better shot approaching them yourself, believe me. Now, let's go again. How about this time... we bet on dinner?

Wyatt Bailey: ... You're really annoying, son, you know that?

Peter Vaughn: So I hear.

Wyatt Bailey: But you're on. Let me just get my better driver. Bobby?

~A man steps out, handing a custom-made club to Mr. Bailey. Vaughn's eyes widen slightly, as the thought that he may have just been hustled crosses his mind. Still, he goes with it, getting things set up, as the camera slowly pans over to the other side... where we see two men peeking around the edge of the wall.~

Shiloh: How long are we gonna wait, Butch?

Butch: Keep your voice down! I don't want the old man to hear us!

Shiloh: But isn't this the perfect moment? They're both near the railing. With one push...

Butch: It's still daylight, and there are people all around. That would be stupid to try now. Just wait, we'll get them on their way to dinner, don't you worry about it. And then Bailey's cattle will be all mine.

~Butch gives a quiet laugh, making sure to stifle it so that no one can hear him. They back away, disappearing from sight, as Vaughn and Mr. Bailey prepare for the next round in their driving range duel.~


It seems to be a trait amongst wrestlers that we tend to thrive the most when we put ourselves in hazardous situations.

Of course, some get burned in those situations, but that's all part of the risk.

So let's talk about Milo & The Troll. Man, doesn't that sound like a Disney movie in the works? Kids would probably go flock to see that show... and then have traumatic nightmares afterwards. It might be like that Brave Little Toaster movie. Still have flashbacks to that whenever an appliance of mine dies. So, Milo & The Troll... are you guys feeling any sort of confidence yet?

I almost feel like leaving Gabe off of this one, really, because everyone knows he stands no chance. I'm curious at this point to see if he even shows up for the contest. Does he get paid if he doesn't wrestle? Probably not, right? Look, Gabe, neither Milo nor I actually want to see you get hurt, so let's just say you go to Alfredo's and eat some pizza, okay? Let us handle this.

Milo, now, there's a man that's supposedly brimming with confidence. So I'm facing you when you're at your peak, huh, Miles? You probably don't believe this, but that's EXACTLY when I want to be fighting you. I'm so tired of taking someone down, squashing them into the mat and getting the 1-2-3, and then they complain afterwards that it wasn't a true win. I cheated them in some way, maybe, or they weren't feeling the best at the time.

You'd be surprised how many 101 degree fevers are announced after the fact.

But you, Milo, you're not going to use that excuse, are you? Because I'm facing you at your best, in a match that you seemingly have more experience in. That'd make you the odds-on favorite, right? So then, once I take you down, sending you crashing into the water, and reclaim my Roulette Championship, there will be no excuses, right? I'll be the better man, from now and into the future? Or will you come up with something after the fact? Like, maybe you shouldn't have eaten those oysters or something?

Nah. Nothing's going to change on that, Milo. This is the definitive finish. Once I've taken you down a second time, it's all set in the rulebooks. I'm just flat out going to be the better champion. The one that people remember. The historic start to a magnificent Sin City career.

Now, I know you brought up how I'm fighting in two matches at once, just like all of my tag-team competition did. It's really thoughtful that all of you are concerned about the effort I'm going to be putting into both of my matches at the PPV. That said, the tag-teams at least have a step in the right, logical direction. Their match comes later in the night. But we're opening this one, Milo. It's not like I'm going to be trying to 'throttle' back my energy or anything. That just isn't me. I'm going to be giving 110 percent like always. And as I told them, I'm built for multiple matches, boyo. Once I knock you looping into the pool, I'll still have plenty of fuel to burn on the next contest.

And once we reach the end of the night, when Kim and I take hold of the Mixed Tag-Team Titles as well, maybe we could give Team Go another shot, since they're one of the ones who cried about me being a cheater. I'd love to take them down again as well. And who knows, Milo? Maybe you can find yourself a mixed partner as well, and we could go one more time. I mean, you'd have to find someone twice as good as Kim, so good luck with that, but you never know.

Still, that's in the far future, when you're reevaluating how you're out for blood and all. Quite simply, Milo, you just don't stand a chance against me in a match like this. You'd be better off letting the Roulette Wheel make a random call, maybe putting me in a submissions match or something, where I'll admit, I'm not a complete dominator. Facing me in something high-flying and suicidal? That's just my walk in the park, my friend.

Unless you can manage a bounce off of Gabriel's stomach that propels you straight at the gold, you really don't have a shot in this one. It's going to be another cruise where you again wonder, what's it going to take to win? And I don't know what to tell you, Milo. I'll pull for you after this, I swear I will.

But I'm certainly not pulling any punches in this one. If I have to ko both of you guys as a prerequisite to regaining the gold, then that's what I'll do. I'm not losing this belt. Not here, not now, and not to guys like you. Especially not to Gabe.

I don't think I could show my face afterwards if that happened.

Fortunately, it won't be a problem. Because I'm ready to thrive and survive, and you're ready to getting pounded down and get drowned.

Bring it on, boyos, and prepare to take the Plunge.


~The camera follows Peter Vaughn and Wyatt Bailey as they head down to another level on the cruise ship. Vaughn is leading the way, with Mr. Bailey right behind him. We can hear them talking as they get closer.~

Peter Vaughn: I still think it was a fluke. A trick of the fading light, maybe.

Wyatt Bailey: You're not getting out of this one, son. My last shot clearly went much further than yours. This dinner better be something exceptional!

~Vaughn sighs for a second, although he seems to be trying to hide a grin. After all, one of the main reasons here is to butter up Mr. Bailey and get him to open up his cattle business for Vaughn's ranch. It wouldn't exactly pay to beat him in a competition, would it? They reach a specific doorway, which has the name "Vaughn" on a sign out front. Vaughn nods to it, stopping them.~

Peter Vaughn: Here we go, this is what I told you about.

Wyatt Bailey: So they'll really have a private chef come and cook for just us, with an exclusive meal?

Peter Vaughn: That's right. They don't offer it to any random guest, but I certainly have the connections to pull it off.

Wyatt Bailey: You think the chef's already in there cooking?

Peter Vaughn: Uh, probably not. We still have 30 minutes to go. But we can go in and wait for him.

Wyatt Bailey: ... Couldn't we go and invite a few ladies to join us? What about your tag-team partner?

Peter Vaughn: Not a chance in hell... sir.

~Mr. Bailey grouses about it for a moment, then shrugs.~

Wyatt Bailey: Oh, well, I'll enjoy the free meal then! Is there at least a TV or something in there?

Peter Vaughn: I honestly don't know. Let's find out.

~The two men head inside, shutting the door behind them. The camera, though, stays out, as it veers to the left, showing, once again, the other two men who have been following them. They step out, not worried about being overheard this time.~

Butch: I don't see how we'll ever get a better chance than this, Shiloh.

Shiloh: Yeah... seems that way...

~With the prospect of things actually happening, Shiloh suddenly looks uncertain, a fact that Butch picks up on very quickly. He grabs Shiloh by the shirt, pulling him closer.~

Butch: You're already too deep in this, Shiloh. You don't get to back out now. We take care of this, and we're on easy street for the rest of our lives. Now let's get this done before that chef shows up. You got your weapon?

~Butch produces a small club in one hand. Shiloh reluctantly reaches into his back pocket, pulling out what appears to be the thicker edge of a pool cue that he probably got from one of the establishments in the cruise. The two men take positions at the door, preparing themselves.~

Butch: Remember, move fast, before that Vaughn can react. Got it?

~Shiloh nods. Butch grabs the doorknob, counting to three, and they charge in, each raising their arms... and stopping in shock, as they see Peter Vaughn and Wyatt Bailey standing on the opposite side of the room, arms raised, waiting for them.~

Peter Vaughn: It's about time. I was starting to wonder how blatant I had to be to get you guys to move in. But they finally did it, didn't they, Wyatt?

Wyatt Bailey: Damn straight they did, and I've never been more disappointed in my life. Both of you are fired, of course.

~Butch looks between Vaughn and Mr. Bailey, trying to figure out what's happened. It doesn't take long to come to the obvious conclusion.~

Butch: This was all a trap?

Peter Vaughn: Now he gets it. You really were proud of yourselves, weren't you, being able to follow Wyatt here to that blueberry patch in the middle of nowhere? You never stopped to consider that, maybe, we had already talked?

~Butch's face is almost carved out of stone, but Shiloh's shock is extremely evident.~

Shiloh: You... you knew we followed him?

Peter Vaughn: We planned on it.


~There's a sudden wavering in what we're seeing, as we're being drawn into a flashback. Instead of blueberries, though, we find ourselves inside Wyatt Bailey's house, as he goes about getting himself put together for the next day. He goes into his closet and turns on the light... and gives a short yell, as he sees Peter Vaughn standing there, waiting for him.~

Peter Vaughn: We need to talk. Privately.

~Before Mr. Bailey can do anything, Vaughn yanks him into the closet, slamming the door behind him. There's the sound of a scuffle, likely Vaughn subduing the old man long enough to tell him the truth about Butch and his boys. We don't know, as the flashback is already ending.~


~Mr. Bailey can be seen, shaking his head in annoyance at remembering what happened that night.~

Wyatt Bailey: I almost shot this guy, and I would have, too, if I could have reached my gun. But he eventually convinced me to work with him. All along I said, that's not the Butch I work with. I defended you, son. And look at you now. And you, Shiloh... no one else would give you a chance, but I did!

Shiloh: Yes, sir... at the minimum rate you could buy me for. You never gave me more, what I deserved!

Wyatt Bailey: But I would have. If you would have talked to me, I would have.

~Shiloh at least has the grace to look slightly ashamed, but Butch just nudges him, telling him nonverbally to stay strong.~

Butch: So you set us up with the cruise. You made sure we heard you, and you basically planted the idea in our brains, huh?

Peter Vaughn: That about covers it.

Butch: But your plan has a major loophole, doesn't it? You've brought us here to this empty room, where it's still two-on-two, and quite frankly, I like our chances. Your massive ego put you in this situation, Vaughn, and you're going to pay for it by swimming with the fishes. So we gonna do this or what?

~Butch raises up his club menacingly. ready to come in hard at the first sign of movement. All he gets, though, is Vaughn giving up a long sigh.~

Peter Vaughn: First off, swimming with the fishes? Of all the ocean puns you could make, that's what you decided to go with? Now, secondly, yes, I have a pretty substantial ego, in line with all the success I've had. But did you really think we went to all this trouble just to have a brawl at the end? A knock-down, drag-out fistfight that may or may not go our way? No, Butch. Unlike you, we're smarter than that.

~Suddenly, the door opens again behind Butch and Shiloh. They turn, as several officers charge in, grabbing hold of the two men. Although Butch tries to fight back, he and Shiloh inevitably end up on the ground, getting their wrists cuffed.~

Butch: Get off of me!!

Coast Guard Officer: You have the right to remain silent...

~Despite their struggles, the two cowhands are quickly dragged away, with Butch only managing one more glare at a smiling Vaughn. They disappear, likely to be put in the brig for the rest of the cruise. Vaughn dusts off his hands, apparently pleased with the result.~

Peter Vaughn: So you've got the proof you needed?

Wyatt Bailey: I can't say I like it that much, but yeah, I've seen it. I'll have to figure out who else was working with Butch. There's going to be changes in my organization.

Peter Vaughn: Understandable. So... would some of those changes 'happen' to be possibly working with a newer ranch?

~Mr. Bailey laughs to himself, unable to contain it in the moment.~

Wyatt Bailey: You're a stubborn cuss, Vaughn, but it's starting to grow on me. Alright, let's discuss a future together... over that dinner you're supposed to buy for me.

Peter Vaughn: Wait, but that was all part of the subterfuge, right? It wasn't a real bet.

Wyatt Bailey: Son, you don't seem the type to ever throw anything in your life. You lost that driving contest, and I definitely aim to collect. I buy the drinks, you buy the dinner. That's the deal.

~Vaughn can't help but smirk, admiring the audacity being displayed. Again, he feels like he has a little too much in common with this man, a guy whose mannerisms remind him so much of his father.~

Peter Vaughn: You win. Let's head to Sabatini's. I feel like Italian.

Wyatt Bailey: You're on.

~The two men move off, leaving behind the empty room that worked so well for their plans. The camera zooms into the corner, showing that a camera was stationed there, to add more evidence against Butch and Shiloh. We focus on the camera, an interesting double look between lenses, before we fade out.~


33
Supercard Archives / The Makeover Of Peter Vaughn, P3 (A Saviors RP)
« on: June 30, 2023, 08:19:26 AM »
~The picture slowly opens up with a bit of a rocking motion, as we appear to be aimed out onto the beautiful, blue sea. As the camera readjusts, turning to the right, we can tell that we are, indeed, on the Princess Cruise liner, host of SCW Summer XXXTreme XI! The ship is really magnificent, a true marvel of the ocean, judging from the happy faces of the people walking past in their bikinis and swimsuits, heading for the poolside area. The cameraman, though, isn't expected down there. He gets a few more shots of the expansive top deck of the liner, before there's the sound of a throat being cleared behind him. He turns around, showing Peter Vaughn standing there, looking cool under the collar in spite of wearing his new, custom black coveralls. He nods to the cameraman, apparently pleased that the man is promptly on time. After all, the bars are always open on this ship, so anything could happen.~

Peter Vaughn: Glad you could make it. Enjoying the cruise so far? Have you visited the two-story Lotus Spa yet? It's pretty incredible. I'm sure this probably feels less dangerous than my old warehouse, huh?

~There's a definite nod from the camera. After all, the guy almost lost his life in there during the demolition of the site. It was a chaotic scene, to be sure, one whose blame falls firmly on Peter Vaughn’s actions. Still, the current environment has the cameraman feeling more forgiving. A cruise with beautiful men & women has to feel more comfortable, after all. Vaughn nods again, taking a moment to look out over the ocean, before pointing over to his right.~

Peter Vaughn: Let's head on up, then. I want to give this course a try.

~Vaughn moves off, with the cameraman quickly realizing what he's talking about. The camera shot shows the extensive ropes course that has been put in rather recently, as one of the Princess Cruise's newest additions.~



~There's an audible sigh from behind the camera, before the man hurries to keep up. Vaughn is already getting himself secured up in a harness, a necessary safety measure that Vaughn barely seems to care about. He starts up, as the cameraman finishes getting locked into his straps. He then hurries to catch up, managing to shimmy his way up the ladder, an impressive maneuver considering he's still holding the camera. You have to applaud SCW for the talent they hire behind the scenes. As he makes the final climb  up top, Vaughn is already on a rope bridge, showing off his remarkable balance as he turns back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: So things are looking extremely good for our tag-team competition. I checked the cruise roster sheet, and wouldn't you know it, every single one of the competitors made it on board! Even Ollie! I have to tell you, I'm ecstatic. I really thought some of them would ‘accidentally’ miss boarding and have to watch this contest from dry land.

~With no sign of difficulties, Vaughn continues across the rope bridge, barely even needing to have his arms out for balance. It's not as easy for the cameraman, as he almost slips a couple of times on his way across. But, trusting in the safety harness, he keeps going, even as Vaughn starts taking a small series of steps higher up.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, as expected, I was seeing a common theme mentioned multiple times. The general thought is that, clearly, I'm going to be exhausted after defending my Roulette Championship earlier in the night, which means that I'm not going to play as big a factor in the Mixed Tag-Team match. It's an interesting theory, and I can see where they're reaching their conclusions. There's only one problem: the facts don't support their hypothesis.

~With nimble feet, Vaughn starts again across, this time on round cylinders that can almost remind you of pool noodles. That is, if you ever saw a pool noodle before. Otherwise, think, I guess, a fluffy snake? A cleaner for the pipes in the toilet? Wait, that's a snake, too, isn't it? Funny. Anyway, Vaughn doesn't seem to have any trouble with the rolling items, getting all the way across. He looks back, waving to the cameraman, who appears reluctant.~

Peter Vaughn: Remember the safety harness, boyo.

~After a few moments, the cameraman sighs and starts across. He slips several times, and we expect a plunge any minute, but somehow, against all odds, he makes it, bringing an impressed smile to Vaughn's face.~

Peter Vaughn: See, this is why I keep requesting you. I know, you've put in applications for other wrestlers, but c'mon, when are you going to have fun like this?

~There's no response from the cameraman. He's probably too floored at Vaughn having blocked his reassignment.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about the facts. Fact is, I'm very good at multitasking. Fact is, I'm used to wrestling multiple matches in a weekend. Heck, I've wrestled eight times before in a single 48-hour period. Sure, part of it was a tournament, but hey, I won that tournament, didn't I? Honestly, I seem to do better the more matches I have in a single weekend. Another fact is, my competition for the Ultimate X match? Not exactly that intense. I've beaten Milo before, and as for the Troll, well, let's just say that I'm not too concerned. I'll probably breeze through that contest, saving as much energy as possible for the Tag match to come.

~With that, Vaughn turns and starts climbing up a wall of ribboned fabric, getting up to the highest point of the ropes course. Having no choice, the cameraman follows, struggling all the way. How he's managing it is anyone's guess, but he does get a helping hand at the end by Vaughn, who reaches down to grab the camera and haul it up first. Once the cameraman's back in position, Vaughn continues.~

Peter Vaughn: Really, I'm skipping over the biggest fact of all: my teammate. Kim Pain could probably win this match all by herself if she wanted to. She's easily got the advantage on Eiley, Luna, and even Tempest. Yep, I fully believe Kim could take down Tempest one-on-one if she wanted to. So the fact is, no matter what energy I use, I'll still be fresh enough to keep the rest of the male mop heads at bay, so that Kim can take care of business. Once she's completed the route, I'll have two victories on this cruise, and two championships to proudly raise to the sky.

~Grinning, thinking about the gold, Vaughn actually does put his arms up in the air. But it's only so he can grab the highest rope, which really looks like it's more there for the harnesses than an actual transport device. But he climbs across easily anyway, hand over hand, reaching the other side. He looks back, waving the cameraman on, but gets a firm shake of the camera. We've reached the max of what this man is able to do. You can’t really shimmy with only one arm free. Looking a tad annoyed, Vaughn nonetheless climbs back over, landing in front of the cameraman once again. He doesn't even look winded.~

Peter Vaughn: You missed out, that was the best part of the course. But hey, some people just can't complete their goals, just like the opponents we'll be going against during the show. Other than the end there, though, you did pretty good, pal. Just don't shirk on your workouts, because keeping up with me? It sure as hell is not easy, for anyone in Sin City. See you at the bottom!

~With that, Vaughn turns and takes a massive leap off the top, spiraling downwards!! The cameraman quickly rushes forward, focusing on Vaughn, whose harness thankfully holds. He bounces on it for a second, before he's finally lowered into the net below, another safety mechanism. A few of the workers move in to start helping Vaughn out of the net, looking like they’d like to tell him off for just leaping like that with no warning. Of course, nobody says anything, because it’s Peter Vaughn, and they know better. Vaughn points up at the cameraman, who realizes that from where they are, there really isn't another way besides making the whole trek back down and getting in the way of others on the course. With a brief, muttered prayer, the cameraman tilts himself over the side and begins downwards, the netting below coming closer as we fade out.~


~We return to a different camera shot, this one showing the outside of one of the establishments on the cruise, Bellini's Cocktail Bar. It’s a rather nice bar, which is what you would expect from such a high-end operation as the Princess Cruise. We see Peter Vaughn walk into the shot, still dressed in his custom black coveralls. The maître d at the door studies him for a few moments, apparently trying to decide that he is actually seeing what he thinks he's seeing. He blinks a few times, but nothing seems to change. Vaughn, noticing that the door hasn’t been opened for him yet, turns to the man.~

Peter Vaughn: Everything alright?

Maître D: ... Of course, sir. Right this way.

~Vaughn nods, heading through the door and into the bar. As Vaughn moves off, the maître d can be seen shaking his head sadly.~

Maître D: Wrestling cruises... oy...

~The camera follows Vaughn as he makes his way through the bar, studying the faces. He finally spots the one he's looking for, walking over to where his tag-team partner, Kim Pain, is sitting. Vaughn sits down as well, with the bartender immediately turning their direction, as a good bartender should.~

Bartender: What can I get you?

Peter Vaughn: Do you have Yellow Rose?

Bartender: ... No, sir, I'm afraid not.

Peter Vaughn: Just give me something on draft then. Your pick.

Bartender: Very good, sir.

~As the bartender goes to work, Vaughn turns to Kim, who still hasn't acknowledged him.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Kim. Nice ship, huh? I went down and checked out the engine room. It's pretty incredible down there. I offered a few suggestions for maintenance, but they really didn't need them.

~Still Kim doesn't say anything, sipping on her drink. Peter, confused, leans closer to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Kim? Partner? Hello? Is everything alright?

~Finally, after a few more moments, Kim turns towards Peter, studying him. Peter, obviously unnerved by the almost glare, leans backwards, considering his options and wondering what he did. Maybe it was something he didn't do. Vaughn's never good at these partnership things. But just as Peter is going through the flight or fight instincts, Kim suddenly smiles, nodding to Peter.~

Kim Pain: It looks like I still have my work cut out for me.

Peter Vaughn: Work? What, you mean like the makeover? I thought we were done with all that. I'm sitting here in my new duds, I'm holding onto less hair, and I even took those skin vitamins that Brianne gave me. They tasted awful, by the way.

Kim Pain: I'm glad you're keeping up with that, Peter, but you do realize that's only half the battle?

Peter Vaughn: ... Did I just enter a GI Joe episode? What do you mean? What's left on me to change? Because I guarantee to you I'm not undergoing any plastic surgery. I like the way I look.

~Kim gives a small laugh to this, before shaking her head.~

Kim Pain: It's nothing about the outside, Peter. It's what's inside... inside your head. I think you're due a bit of a makeover there as well.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, uh, I've had people try to mess with my brain before. I don't really want to revisit that.

Kim Pain: So tell me about this Sadie woman that works with you?

~The abrupt shift in conversation throws Peter, but he's given a reprieve as the bartender puts a large mug in front of him. Peter carefully sips at it, then looks thankful that it's nothing too bad, taking a larger swallow to clear his throat.~

Peter Vaughn: Why do you want to know about her? How do you even KNOW about her?

Kim Pain: I pay attention, Peter. I noticed that she's texted you at least a dozen times since the cruise started.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, yeah, she's keeping me up-to-date on issues with the ranch. It's an ongoing process, getting that one off the ground.

Kim Pain: Uh huh. And yet I believe she was inquiring a lot about how the cruise was going, and especially how it's going with me as your teammate.

Peter Vaughn: ... I guess she's just curious. I don't really know, she hasn't talked much about wrestling before, but maybe she's actually a fan.

Kim Pain: Or she just wants to know more about what drives you, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Why, so she can work better for me or something? I mean, she already does a damn good job, I don't see room for much improvement.

~Kim shakes her head again, possibly a little shocked that she has to explain this straight to Peter's face. But then, Peter's been rather oblivious to anything regarding the opposite sex for the last few years, ever since his... treatments.~

Kim Pain: Here's the thing, Peter: Sadie's into you.

Peter Vaughn: ... As a fan? As a fan, right?

Kim Pain: No. Not as a fan. She's interested in you... as something more.

Peter Vaughn: ... Like... as a partner, like you?

Kim Pain: Not at all like me. Just... trust me on this, Peter. Sadie... would like to date you.

~Vaughn, still puzzled, takes another long drink from his frosted mug. He sets it back down before looking back at Kim.~

Peter Vaughn: I think you've got your wires crossed here, Kim. Sadie's just a co-worker of mine. I think I'd know if there was something else there.... wouldn't I?

~Kim just waits, as Vaughn starts running things through his head. Some of the comments that Sadie has made lately. The way she has greeted him in the mornings on the ranch, and the time spent at night along with Thomas and some of the other crew. The way she laughed at some of his weak attempts at jokes. Suddenly, Peter sits up.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh my God...

Kim Pain: There we go.

Peter Vaughn: But... but no. I mean, I don't really feel like that... well, with anyone, anymore. I would think she'd be able to see that.

Kim Pain: The heart wants what the heart wants, Peter. Not much can change that.

Peter Vaughn: But... exactly! My heart... doesn't want. At least, I don't think it does. I can't say it's really telling me anything, to be honest.

Kim Pain: Look, Peter. You need to make some of your time on this cruise work for you. You need to find a way to reach your old self, and start reopening old passageways in your mind.

Peter Vaughn: ... The old me sucked. He never won matches. He always got beaten up. He was... a janitor.

Kim Pain: I don't think the last one there is a bad thing, just a little different. But I'm not saying return to the Peter Vaughn you once were. I'm just saying be open to the fact that you can find a way to merge those old paths back into your new ones. Honestly, I think it'll help you in the ring, too.

Peter Vaughn: You think so?

Kim Pain: At the very least it will add to your knowledge base, which is always good to do for a wrestler. You DO want to learn more, don't you?

Peter Vaughn: ... I suppose so.

Kim Pain: So here's your mission, Peter: reacquaint yourself some with life on this cruise. Go and try new things. Talk to new people. See if you can break out of your shell and start seeing the colors of the world again. Then, I think you'll become the perfect tag-team partner, and we'll absolutely destroy all those other teams and grab those championships for ourselves. Are you willing to try that, Peter?

~Vaughn is quiet for a long period of time, drinking away more of the draft beer he had been given, thinking about Sadie and what he might, no, surely DID miss. He finally decides to nod his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll try.

Kim Pain: That's all I can ask.

~Kim raises her glass, clinking it against the one still held in Peter's hand. Peter still seems to be trying to process everything, running it through his mind again and again, as we slowly cut away.~


It's amazing, the twists and turns that can happen on a simple cruise, isn't it?

Take, for example, the twist that everyone in our mixed tag-team match prepares to be ready to compete? I truly thought I might see some of them just taking it easy on the crew deck, getting a tan, just taking advantage of the free trip on the cruise. But then I spend my time running around the liner, getting some exercise while taking in everything I see. And all I really see is everyone else involved in this match doing their prep work and continuing to train.

So, bravo, teams! You're not all complete losers, and I'm proud of you for that!

Of course, that doesn't mean that they're not all still making some mistakes in their preparations. For instance, good ol' Austin seems to think that Kim and I are going to underestimate them. Underestimate Austin & Tempest. The only team here to have held the belts before. So I have to ask... why the hell would you think we're underestimating you? You're the #1 target, for us and, I'm betting, for the rest of the teams as well. Honestly, the biggest threat is that we're overestimating you. You might come into this one and lay an egg, sucking up the entire ring, and suddenly a lot of our early strategy would be for naught.

So, you know, please don't suck, Austin. It would mess up our plans.

But I don't think he will. Austin's feeling a ton of pressure in this one, after all. He's already falling from the main event scene, he can't afford to put a brick up in the Mixed Tag-Team ranks. If anything, he'll probably try TOO hard and screw over his partner with an accidental slip-up near the end. Hey, I'm all for it. You screwing up? THAT we've planned for, Austin.

Really, the one I guess I should talk about underestimating might be the rookies. Ollie & Ellie look like they're planning to take this one seriously, even if nobody else is giving them a chance. That being said... I still think they're the underdogs in this one, because the energy might be there, but the experience is not. Most of the time, it felt like Ollie didn't even know what he was talking about. After all, Ollie seems to think that Kim doesn't care at all about championships.

Well, that's really on her to discuss, but from what I've seen, she DOES like to win. That means we will become the champions, so those go hand-in-hand. Either way, my interest in championships will be far and away enough for both of us, no matter where Kim sits on it. I'll definitely be a driving force in this contest.

And by the way, Ollie, let me clue you in on one other thing: losing in a tournament, no matter to what team, is never something to brag about. You and Ellie both lost to the eventual winners? So you're both losers? I mean, that's what that comes out to. It's not even a humble brag. It's a desperate attempt at making a terrible moment something that's worth a damn.

It's not. You lost. So did I. Get over it and move on.

Finally, we have Xander, who has his own underestimation issues. Boy, a lot of estimations going wrong, isn't there? Xandie seems to think that I'm nothing, just because I'm with the Saviors. In fact, there were a lot of negative feelings about us Saviors, which I thought was funny, considering how many of you moved your way forward in this tournament. As I've already said, I'm working to rebuild the Saviors' glory one step at a time, and we're definitely getting there. So if your personal hatred of the group of the past is going to mess with your mind in the present, well, that's just another benefit for us, isn't it?

Also, Raven, you're just as arrogant as I am, if not more. I mean, look how great you feel about yourself despite getting denied championships recently? You'd think your ego would have suffered a few more holes, but I guess you're able to seal up those wounds and move forward, huh?

Probably should get yourself a tire patch commercial. It would sell well.

Overall, boyos, and ladies, while I do believe now that all of you are actually here to compete, I'm just not sure all of you are equipped for the feat. Maybe some of you should just stay away from the tags and locate yourself some nice seats in the front row, away from all the action. You could put your feet up, get a martini (or a juice box for Ollie), and just relax, knowing that you're on a boat, mothertruckers, and that's as good as it's going to get.

Because once again, I have to tell you that nothing's stopping Kim and I from taking home those belts. I'm going to be a tag champion. If it means I have to throw each and every single one of you overboard to make that happen, then that's what I'm going to do.

It really gives "Taking The Plunge" a new meaning, doesn't it?

And when they're retrieving you from the ocean, sputtering and out of breath, you'll wonder to yourselves: why would he do this? Why would he take it so far? Well, it's obvious. Gold's on the line, and that means I'll do whatever I have to do to carry my partner and I across the finish line.

Brace yourselves. Rough waters ahead.


~It appears to be the next day on the cruise, although that could just be because we're outside once again. Now, we're at the poolside area, where fans can be seen enjoying the cool water on a hot summer day. There are a few SCW wrestlers in the pool, too, splashing each other and having a grand old time. They're not the wrestlers we're looking for, though, so the camera continues past them and heads to a nearby sitting area. Hanging out there, having just finished a thorough workout, is Kim Pain. She turns to the person sitting next to her, striking up a conversation.~

Kim Pain: Are you enjoying the trip, Brianne?

~The other lady rolls over, showing that it is, indeed, Brianne from the hair stylist shop. She smiles, sitting herself up.~

Brianne: This has been absolutely a great adventure, Kim! Thanks again for getting me a ticket!

Kim Pain: It's the least I can do after having to deal with so much of my partner's, well, you know.

Brianne: It's all... part of the job.

~Brianne says this without conviction, but then, she shouldn't complain. She DID get a trip on a cruise for it. As if to symbolize this further, a waiter shows up, handing both of them drinks. Kim sets hers to the side, seemingly not wanting to overindulge with a match coming up. Brianne dives right in, drinking away.~

Kim Pain: You don't want to drink too much, Brianne. Being drunk on a rocking cruise ship never goes well.

Brianne: It just tastes so good! Like they bottled the sun to give to us in these mimosas!

Kim Pain: If you say so. Hey, have you seen Peter around?

Brianne: No, I don't think so. Why?

Kim Pain: Just wondering. We had a talk last night, him and I, and I'm curious as to how he's reacting to it today. I doubt we'll see much of a change, though. Peter doesn't seem the type to radically change overnight, you know?

Brianne: I don't know, with all that hair *hiccup* gone, he definitely changed a lot.

Kim Pain: That's not what I...

~Kim suddenly stops talking, as she sits up a little straighter, staring off to the right. It takes Brianne a minute to notice the shift, as she's busy finishing off her drink. She finally gets it, though, turning back, confused.~

Brianne: *hic* What's going on?

Kim Pain: Over there... walking on the side path...

~Puzzled, Brianne looks around, finally finding what Kim is looking at. Her eyes widen in shock. The camera, similarly, turns and focuses in that direction, locking onto the man walking amongst the group of younger people, talking them up. He's wearing swim trunks and nothing else, with his hair styled up in a unique pattern. As he turns to some of the people, he raises up his arms, giving the victory sign to them with a big smile.~



~As shocking as it is, that does appear to be Peter Vaughn. He turns to a few fans who are anxiously waiting nearby, talking with them and offering to sign autographs, something that Vaughn never does. The look on his face is one of someone who's trying way, WAY too hard. He continues to gather a crowd, as it's clear that people are willing to take advantage of this seemingly "change of heart". Kim, though, knows better. She sighs, standing up to get a better look.~

Kim Pain: I may have created a monster...

~Brianne just laughs, thinking the whole thing is hilarious. But Kim is taking it seriously. She reaches down to gather up her stuff, before turning back to Brianne.~

Kim Pain: I think I'd better go after him. I should have known he'd take things to the extreme. Are you going to be alright here by yourself?

Brianne: I'm a grown *hic* woman, of course I'll be okay. You go get your partner.

~Kim nods, moving off at a brisk pace, as Brianne turns, noticing that Kim's drink is still sitting there, untouched.~

Brianne: Don't mind if I do... *hic*

~Brianne picks up the second mimosa, beginning to work on it, and we're forced to wonder what her tolerance level could be. It's extremely difficult to get drunk of mimosas, believe me, it's been tried. The camera leaves Brianne, following Kim's trek as she heads after her partner. However, in the minute it took for her to check on Brianne, Peter Vaughn seems to have gotten away from her. She looks around, wondering how he could have moved so fast.~

Kim Pain: Peter? ... Peter!

~Kim starts calling out, moving off, as the picture slowly fades out.~


34
Supercard Archives / Bombshells & Blueberries - Roulette Championship P1
« on: June 24, 2023, 10:42:50 PM »
~We open the shot to a scene of devastation. The destruction appears to be fully completed. There are concrete pieces laying all around, the leftover remains of Peter Vaughn's warehouse. At least, at this point, we HOPE it was Peter Vaughn's warehouse, because there's really nothing left after Vaughn and his partner, Kim Pain, began the deconstruction of the building. We can see, in the distance, a few different bulldozers and cranes working their way through the rubble, collecting what they can and dumping the remains into various dump trucks scattered around the area. The cameraman zooms over the destroyed wasteland before turning to his right, where we can see Peter Vaughn proudly standing across two large pieces of cracked walls. He looks more relaxed than usual, probably because of the release of some pressure thanks to the tear down. After a few moments, he turns to look over at the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: How are you feeling, friend? Still pissed at me?

~There's no response from the cameraman, who professionally keeps the lens pointed at Vaughn. Of course, that doesn't stop him from bringing a hand in front of the camera, shooting the bird towards the Roulette Champion. For those who missed it, when the demolition event started, the cameraman was inside, having been given bad directions from Vaughn. Thankfully, he made it out in one piece, even if he does appear to still hold a grudge. As for Vaughn, he simple smirks, before looking around again.~

Peter Vaughn: We truly did a lot of damage, didn't we? Thank goodness I have some contacts in the local government, getting us a crew to cart away the remains. Otherwise, well, this would have taken me a while.

~With uncanny balance, Vaughn jumps off the one piece of crumbling wall and lands on another piece, which rocks dangerously for a moment before settling. Vaughn doesn't seem concerned at all. He reaches down, pulling out what appears to be a chunk of wall with a light switch on it. He detaches the wires from the back, allowing him to hang onto the piece.~

Peter Vaughn: Always good to have a memento of your past, right? You want one? Something to signify you're still living life? The bathroom area should be over there to the east, we could probably find a toilet seat or a piece of sink.

~The camera just shakes negatively, so Vaughn shrugs, tucking the debris away in one of his large coverall pockets.~

Peter Vaughn: Looking at this now... yep, I believe this was the right choice. Tearing down the past and moving forward, heading into a new, bright future. If only I wasn't facing an opponent from the past... an opponent I've been locked against more times than anyone else in Sin City. Good ol' Milo. Of course, they added the Troll to this, because of course they did. You'd think, maybe, there's someone in the front offices who would like to see me lose the Roulette Championship. They even made a big deal out of it being an Ultimate X match, as if that was a danger to me.

~Vaughn laughs to himself, even as he hops to another piece of debris, then another. Somehow, despite the chaotic pattern of destruction, Vaughn's having no problems navigating the area. The cameraman, meanwhile, is being extremely careful in where he puts his feet down. A lot is covered in an SCW Cameraman's insurance, but a demolished building might be pushing things.~

Peter Vaughn: For some reason, I thought they knew me better than that. I mean, I won the Roulette Championship by winning a Ladder match. I love high-flying and risk-taking. I enjoy any match where the rules are... relaxed. A match like this? Where I just need to dunk a couple of fools into the water in order to get a free path back to my title? Where balance and agility is of utmost importance? Where it's a Pay-Per-View, which means I'll be at my absolute best, rising up for the big time? Yeah... this one's going to be glorious.

~Vaughn jumps over onto a piece of rebar, which doesn't look like it's going to hold his weight. But Vaughn doesn't even hesitate, continuing to flip over to another piece of debris, staying upright. We can see now that Vaughn has gotten near the edge of the destruction zone in a half dozen hops. The cameraman, meanwhile, is much further back, as he starts to carefully move to his left.~

Peter Vaughn: It truly is a beautiful sight, isn't it? And it's only the beginning. Wait until you guys see what I get built here. It's going to take some time, but this place? It's going to be memorable.

~Vaughn grins to himself, then turns to go, towards the parking lot where we can see his beloved truck, Gabriella, sitting. After a moment, though, Vaughn looks back, taking in the fact that the cameraman is struggling to get around the pieces of concrete safely. With a sigh, Vaughn shakes his head before coming back his direction.~

Peter Vaughn: I suppose I already almost killed you once today. That should probably be my limit. Let's get you out of there.

~The wrestler moves to the side, picking up what appear to be a series of long planks, which look like they used to be part of the roof of the warehouse. Vaughn slides them out, one by one, forming a bridge across the debris field. Gratefully, the cameraman makes his way that direction, managing to get onto the first one. He struggles across, finally landing on the other side, with Vaughn staying close by. When the cameraman gets his balance back, Vaughn steps in front of the lens once more, smiling hopefully. He has another decent-sized piece of concrete in one hand.~

Peter Vaughn: So we're all good now? No reason to escalate anything to a higher office or anything?

~Vaughn tosses the concrete piece up and down a few times, while never letting his eyes leave the cameraman. He gets the message, nodding the camera, basically saying that things will stay as they are. Vaughn's grin gets larger.~

Peter Vaughn: Good. I've become a fan of yours, after all. And you're going to love what comes next.

~Vaughn throws the piece of concrete away and starts walking towards the truck. The cameraman takes one last look at the fallen building, before finally fading out, taking us away from here.~


~The video shifts, this time taking us to a shot of the outdoors. At least, that's what we see along the side of the road. The shot is moving, though, showing that we're seeing from the perspective of someone inside a car or truck. The vehicle makes a turn to the right, making its way into a specific destination, and we quickly catch a shot of the sign outside.~



~The vehicle continues on, heading to the parking area near the large red barn on the property. Leaning against the barn, clearly visible, is Peter Vaughn, with one foot up against the barn wall as he waits patiently. The engine shuts off, and after a moment, the camera turns to the side... showing us Wyatt Bailey, a prominent cattle distributor in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. He's also had a few confrontations with Vaughn over his PMV Ranch, swearing that Vaughn will never get cattle from him. Bailey pulls the keys from the ignition, staring out at Vaughn, who is calmly waiting for him.~

Wyatt Bailey: Smug son of a bitch.

~The older man pulls himself out of the car, walking over to where Vaughn is straightening up, preparing for him.~

Wyatt Bailey: So any reason you had me drive all the way out here, other than just for you to talk my ear off again and for me to turn you down?

~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders before speaking.~

Peter Vaughn: I figured we could meet on neutral ground to talk things out.

Wyatt Bailey: Really? That's why we're here, instead of at a restaurant back in town? Because I'd rather have a steak, medium rare.

Peter Vaughn: What can I say? I'm a fan of blueberries. I know a lot of people out there would rather have apples, oranges, maybe some strawberries. Some of them eat bananas just because they think they're healthy for them. But blueberries, they're the underutilized crop. Despite all their benefits, people still tend to push blueberries to the side. I suppose... I can relate, in some ways.

~For once, Mr. Bailey seems a bit speechless, as he's likely never heard someone compare themselves to a blueberry before. Vaughn shrugs again, looking off into the distance.~

Peter Vaughn: Suffice to say, Mr. Bailey, I think you're someone who could make good use of a crop of blueberries... if you could remove your own preconceived notions of them. C'mon, let's go pick a few. I'll feel a little better away from the main entrance, anyway.

Wyatt Bailey: ... You're a strange, strange fella, Vaughn. Gotta say, it feels like there's something... different about you. Hmmm. Did you get a haircut?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, something like that.

~Vaughn instinctively runs a hand across his chest, wincing slightly, before walking away. Mr. Bailey moves after the wrestler, heading into the blueberry grove, still on his guard. As they depart, we see another vehicle slowly pull into the parking lot, finding a space further down the lot. We cut away.~


Milo, Milo, Milo...

How is it that we keep finding ourselves in each other's orbit?

I don't think there's a single wrestler I've faced more than you, Millo, here in Sin City. We've had some fun times, haven't we? I mean, I defeat you, you almost defeat me, it's a wild ride. So does that last time we fought still burn you? Because I won't sugarcoat it: you definitely had me on the ropes. Some would even say that there was no way for me to escape... except that the time ran out, didn't it? A draw. In other words...

You. Still. Haven't. Beat. Me.

I'm betting that result has stayed in that Milo-tic brain of yours, rattling around and never finding a way out. That thought of you hitting the move that I may or may not have kicked out of, only for it to be useless. Pretty crazy. Probably depressing. For you, that is.

And then look how things have gone since then? I went on to win the SCW Roulette Championship at Blaze of Glory, while you went and got yourself another unsatisfying ending. A double pin draw, ugh, hate when that happens. I guess you should have tried to get a shoulder up, huh? After that, despite your inability to get away from draws, you were given a World Title opportunity, which, hey, I was pulling for you back there. I really was.

So you can guess how disappointed you made me when you took the pin from Harris.

I mean, how did you not see that coming? Harris, cheating? The guy's pretty well known for it at this point. But you didn't duck, you didn't dodge, and you didn't stay conscious. Another bummer for Milo. I swear, if I hadn't put a bet on Harris to win exactly that way, I would have been furious. You dropped the ball, Milo. Again.

And yet, here we are... once again being booked against each other. Once again, you're getting a title opportunity, even though you blew your chance to face me twice. You should have been there for the Mixed Tag Titles two, but, once again, you failed to stop a cheater. Man, that's gotta start feeling painful, boyo. At least you got some revenge on the kid, but still...

It's becoming like a broken record with you.

That being said, I DO have good news for you, Millie. See, since this is booked as an Ultimate X match, it technically ISN'T possible to cheat. There are no rules, other than get to that championship and don't fall in the pool. So you can feel free to bring yourself some weapons if you want, because they're legal. I bet the Troll brings some, because there's no way in hell that guy is climbing up those ropes. He'll probably bring an extender grappler, that'd be his best bet. And I know I'll be... prepared, with any items I need to have on me.

So how far are you willing to take things, Milo? Are you going to finally shake off your fan-friendly persona and live up to the name of Summer XXXTreme? Are you going to turn this match up to 11, and have the two of us carry off one of the greatest opening matches in SCW PPV history? Or are you going to show up wearing a life preserver, knowing exactly where you're going to end up at the finish?

I'm not going to let this one end in a draw, Miles. I'm continuing what will be a historic run with the Roulette Championship.

And for once, I won't be joining you on the way down as you take the Plunge.


~We rejoin Peter Vaughn and Wyatt Bailey as they move through the blueberry patch. Vaughn has actually collected a nice amount of them in his small basket. Maybe he really DOES like blueberries. Mr. Bailey seems less inclined, as he's starting to look impatient.~

Wyatt Bailey: You know, you may be some kind of famous wrestler who doesn't have to worry about wasting his time, but some of us DO have a business to run! Are we going to get to the point of this little meeting?

Peter Vaughn: What's your rush, Wyatt? Don't you want to enjoy this beautiful Texas day, out here in nature?

Wyatt Bailey: Don't try to con me, son. You're stalling. And I'm getting awfully tired of...

~There's a sudden, single beep from Vaughn's cell phone. He pulls it out and takes a look, nodding, before putting it back away and turning towards Mr. Bailey, who looks ready to start hiking back out of there, blueberries be damned.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, Wyatt, let's talk.

Wyatt Bailey: By all means, "Peter"...

Peter Vaughn: So how much do you know about your guy Butch?

~Bailey's face reveals his surprise, as he was prepared for many conversation starters, but Butch wasn't on the table.~

Wyatt Bailey: Butch? He's been working for me for years. He's probably my best cattleman, reminds me some of myself at his age. Why? You trying to poach him from me? Good luck to you. He's basically next in line to run my business when I retire.

Peter Vaughn: So he is. And when exactly do you think you'll be retiring, just to ask?

Wyatt Bailey: Hah! Not anytime soon, I'll tell you that! I'd be too bored in retirement!

~Vaughn nods, agreeing with the older man. Retirement does, indeed, sound... boring.~

Peter Vaughn: So, then, the only way Butch will be taking over... is over your dead body?

~This gets Mr. Bailey's attention, as he glares over at Vaughn. Like any self-respecting Texan, he's packing, as his hand involuntarily goes towards his side.~

Wyatt Bailey: You threatening me, son?

Peter Vaughn: Nope. Just warning you. That Butch? He's not fond of waiting.

Wyatt Bailey: What? I don't see what you're getting at...

Peter Vaughn: Had any car troubles lately?

~This gets the older man's attention. After all, how could Vaughn know about the mysterious failure of his prized Cadillac's engine?~

Wyatt Bailey: How do you know about that?

Peter Vaughn: Sources. The same ones that have told me that ol' Butch and a few other cowboys are looking to remove you from the equation. They want to retire you permanently, Wyatt.

~Mr. Bailey's eyebrows climb high on his forehead... before settling back down as he laughs, slapping his knee just like an old-timer.~

Wyatt Bailey: You're a funny one, Vaughn. You really expect me to just take your word that some of my best boys are coming after me? Just because of some engine failures?

Peter Vaughn: Anything else go wrong recently?

Wyatt Bailey: I... well, there WAS a problem when one of the bulls got loose. Nobody could tell me how he got out of his pen... but that was just an accident!

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh...

Wyatt Bailey: Now listen here, son! I trust my boys, I always have! You've got to give me more than "sources" and "coincidences" if you want me to believe you.

~Vaughn hesitates, and it's for good reason. He remembers seeing the video feed that showed Butch and another cowboy, identified later as Shilo, talking about causing Mr. Bailey's death via an automobile accident. Of course, Vaughn's illegal feed into Mr. Bailey's surveillance cameras meant that he couldn't come right out and reveal where he heard it. He also couldn't confess to breaking into Mr. Bailey's garage and sabotaging his ride, in order to keep the old man from dying after a major accident, because that wouldn't exactly be celebrated, either, would it?~

Peter Vaughn: I don't have anything other than what I know, Wyatt. And what I know is that your life is in danger, and maybe the lives of your family.

Wyatt Bailey: Hah! That's not a concern for me. My wife passed a few years ago, and my daughters have all married up and are living their own lives out there. Hell, Butch is the closest thing I've ever had to a son, and you say he's trying to kill me??

Peter Vaughn: Yes. Yes, I do. And I think, somewhere in there, you suspect a little, too. Otherwise, you would have stormed off long before now.

~There's a silence between the two men, a silence that's broken up as a few kids come by, unstoppable in picking some more blueberries for themselves. They swarm over a nearby bush, taking several, before running off, giggling to each other. Both Vaughn and Mr. Bailey watch this, before Vaughn looks back at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Believe me or not, I figure it'd be good for you to get out of town for a little while. So here's what I'm going to do.

~Vaughn reaches into his pocket, causing Mr. Bailey to once again consider his pistol. But Vaughn just pulls out an envelope, handing it over to him.~

Wyatt Bailey: Alright, I'll bite. What's this?

Peter Vaughn: It's tickets. Specifically, it's tickets to fly you out and get you onto the cruise I'm going to be on, Sin City Wrestling's Summer XXXTreme XI.

Wyatt Bailey: A... a cruise?

Peter Vaughn: Yes, sir. I figure you've worked hard enough, you could use a break away from your guys, especially in light of the fact that they're trying to kill you.

Wyatt Bailey: Allegedly.

Peter Vaughn: Whether you believe me or not, that's a great opportunity there, Wyatt. It's a chance for you to stretch your legs and enjoy some time off. Why not take it?

Wyatt Bailey: It's, what, a bribe? You trying to buy me, son?

Peter Vaughn: You're not someone who can be bought. But if it puts me on your good side... why not? Now, the ship leaves from the Port of Los Angeles on the Princess Cruise. It's going to be an amazing event. It's up to you, really, whether or not you take advantage of it.

~Mr. Bailey sits quietly for a moment, considering his options. The thought of tearing up the tickets right in front of Vaughn has to enter his mind. But there's also the thought of... a cruise... fully paid for... and with some interesting clientele likely expected.~

Wyatt Bailey: I suppose... there will be a lot of ladies in bikinis?

Peter Vaughn: I would definitely expect to see more ladies in bikinis than gentlemen.

Wyatt Bailey: I guess there's no hard in... getting away for a little bit.

~Vaughn smiles, as Mr. Bailey carefully tucks the tickets away in his pocket.~

Wyatt Bailey: I'm not saying this changes anything between us, though, Vaughn. You're still an outsider in our cattle game.

Peter Vaughn: So I've been told before.

Wyatt Bailey: But I'll do the gentlemanly thing and say... thank you.

~Mr. Bailey tips his hat towards Vaughn, then turns, walking away. Vaughn watches him go, still smiling. He turns and goes in the opposite direction. At the same time, the camera shifts away from them, slowly circling around the bushes to show where two men are currently bent over, having been listening to the majority of the conversation.~

Butch: So you heard all of that?

Shiloh: I heard every word. Damn fools, allowing us to follow like that. Acting like this was some sort of secret meeting!

Butch: The question is, how does that guy know about our plans? You been talking while drinking, Shiloh?

Shiloh: Of course not! I don't know how he knows! But we need to do something.

Butch: You think so? Didn't sound like the old man believed a word of it. Still... this could be the perfect opportunity.

~Butch lets an evil grin cross his lips, as he thinks through the possibilities.~

Butch: After all... isn't it kind of common on cruises like this to have someone 'accidentally' fall overboard? Why, it'd simply be a tragedy if one or both of them simply... disappeared.

Shiloh: ... It would definitely be tragic.

Butch: Let's go see if we can book passage for ourselves. I'm sure the place is sold out at this date, but you know there are always some bootleg tickets for sale.

Shiloh: I better pack my Dramamine.

~Both men laugh as they move off, evil thoughts in their minds as we cut away.~


Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of men?

Hell if I know. It's definitely not the Troll, because from what I've heard, he's usually wrong when he's broadcasting from his mom's basement.

So, Troll... yeah, I can't call you that. I mean, I like doing nicknames, but that's just pathetic. So, Gabe... you've been placed into a match where you are required to have upper body strength and a great deal of agility. And I have to ask... when you heard it was an Ultimate X match... why did you sign the contract?

Seriously, Gabe, you're putting your life on the line in this one, and I know it hasn't exactly been the greatest of lives, but it's still what you've got. Why didn't you turn tail and run? That'd be the smart play.

Is it because Mac once invited you to the Saviors? Because you know what? I don't really see that in the same light that you do. After all, soon after that invitation, everything seemed to fall apart for the Saviors. Mac left, Goth fell, Ken got hurt, we let a bitch into the group before quickly kicking them out, I mean, the whole stable nearly collapsed. But you know who was there to fix it?

Me.

I'm the man who's kept the good name of the Saviors going, even when it looked like it'd be better for me to take a walk from the group as well. But I didn't. I stayed. I brought in the Roulette Championship. I'm bringing in the Mixed Tag-Team Titles. We're bringing this group back to life, one piece at a time. And you know what, Gabe?

I'm not sure that you're one of the pieces we need.

The only time I remember seeing you lately, Gabe, was when you got the holy hell beat out of you by Austin James Mercer. Have you won a match in Sin City? Are you even a competitor here? I mean, I'm sure I could look back in the logs and find out for myself, but... it's rather boring, looking into your career.

So here's the truth, Gabe. You really don't stand a chance of winning this match. Miles and I, we'll be flying around, doing some gravity-defying stunts as we work to get to the championship. It's going to be damn impressive, I'm sure. But you, Gabe? You're built differently. This is quite possibly the worst possible match type for you. But you can still succeed in one way, Gabe.

You could always tackle Milo into the water when his attention is diverted by me.

Sure, it would eliminate both of you, but it'd be a strike for the Saviors, wouldn't it? It'd ensure that I keep the Roulette Championship safely in the organization. Do you think you could do that, Gabe? Or do you think it'd be better if you just stay in your room in third class, keeping it a one-on-one battle? It's really your decision, after all.

That being said, Gabe, if you show up and decide that you WANT to fight for the championship, well, then I'll show you the respect I think you deserve. I'll fight you head-on, with everything I've got, and, well, I quite frankly don't think things will turn out well for you.

You make your choice, Gabe. You do what you think you have to do.

You find a way to make Mac proud of you.



~As the two sinister cattle herders move off, still laughing to themselves, the camera slowly zooms in on a nearby blueberry bush. Strangely, it appears to be at least partially artificial, judging by the camouflage net that hangs on it. Inside the bush, we suddenly hear another loud beep, followed by a voice coming out of a speaker.~

Peter Vaughn: I see them taking off. You good there, bro?

~After another moment or two, the net slowly pulls to the side, as a man pokes his head out. He looks around in both directions, making sure the coast is clear.~

Thomas Hill: Yeah, Peter, they're gone. I still can't believe you made me do this.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, c'mon, you know you enjoyed it. Those kids really seemed to like your blueberries.

Thomas Hill: Shut up. That was humiliating. I thought for sure they saw me.

~Thomas shakes his head, even as he struggles to dislodge himself from the hole in the blueberry grove. It isn't easy.~

Thomas Hill: Those guys were idiots, thinking that they're the only ones who could follow someone.

Peter Vaughn: So did they react like we thought they would?

Thomas Hill: Yeah. They're going to try and get on the cruise. This is getting dangerous, Peter. Don't you think we should let the authorities know?

Peter Vaughn: We still have no real proof.

Thomas Hill: Are you kidding? I just recorded them!

Peter Vaughn: And I'm sure they kept it a little vague, right? They didn't outright say what they're going to do.

Thomas Hill: ... I guess not.

~Thomas sighs, as he lifts a leg towards the ground. The other foot, though, gets stuck in the tree, causing Thomas to topple over with a thud.~

Peter Vaughn: I didn't catch that last part.

Thomas Hill: Ow. Uh, look, I just don't want anything to go wrong on the cruise. You've got too much riding on it.

~The camera angle suddenly switches, showing Vaughn standing in the loft of the large red barn. He has binoculars up to his eyes, as he watches Butch and Shiloh sneaking back into their car. Mr. Bailey left long ago, while Vaughn hid his truck behind the barn, out of sight.~

Peter Vaughn: I know it, Thomas. It's going to take a lot for me to come back from this event with two championships around my waist, with more to come. But I've factored everything into account. My plan is going to go perfectly.

Thomas Hill: Nothing ever goes perfectly, Peter. You know it and I know it.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, it's GOING to be perfect, Thomas. No matter what it takes... it's going to be perfect.

~With that, Vaughn lowers the binoculars, glaring down at the departing vehicle below. Vaughn is set on a career high at SCW: two championship matches, with all the eyes of the world on him. Numerous individuals who stand in his way. All of them will fall... no matter what it takes. He disappears into the darkness of the loft, out of sight from the camera, as we fade out.~


35
Supercard Archives / The Makeover Of Peter Vaughn, P1 (A Saviors RP)
« on: June 24, 2023, 04:26:12 PM »
~The camera slowly comes up on a sight we've seen many times before over the last year. We're inside the same unknown warehouse, its location in the world having never been disclosed. For all we know, we're in Borneo.~

~But, honestly... it's probably not Borneo.~

~Nonetheless, the cameraman takes in the large room, which appears to be even more empty than usual. It even appears that some of the light fixtures and other electronics have been removed, making it a darker place, with the main light coming from the windows nearby. The cameraman, used to these situations, positions himself in the center of the room and waits. Patiently.~

~After several seconds tick by, we suddenly hear the rumbling of an engine from outside the building. It's not the normal sound of a car engine; oh, no, it's far louder and more powerful than that. The cameraman turns, showing a shot through one of the windows... as a large bulldozer plows towards the building. We hear the cameraman gasp, then he rushes backwards, with movements you normally only see in found footage horror movies. He manages to get out of range, even as the bulldozer crashes through the side of the building, sending bricks and mortar flying everywhere!! Fortunately, the rest of the wall manages to stay up, even as the cameraman moves cautiously back in, focusing on the man in the bulldozer's driver seat: Peter Vaughn. He leans out, giving the cameraman a once-over before grinning.~

Peter Vaughn: Not exactly the best place to be standing, boyo. Didn't you get my note?

~In answer, the cameraman raises up his phone to the camera, where we see the text from Peter: "I'll see you at the warehouse." He shows it over towards Vaughn, who nods.~

Peter Vaughn: Yes, "AT" the warehouse. I never said to go in this time. Still, I guess I could have been more clear. My bad.

~The camera shakes for a moment, and you have to wonder what's going through the cameraman's mind. Probably nothing good. But he's a professional, so he stays focused on Peter, who looks around at the destruction he's caused.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, after my loss to President Washburns, I decided that it was probably time to turn over a new leaf. To do that, I figured I'd need to destroy the old leaf first. I'm moving forward, after all. There's no time to waste looking backwards. This warehouse? It's been fun, I'll admit. But it's time for something new. Something better. It's just like me, really.

~There's a puzzled silence for just a second, but Peter picks up on it, looking back at the cameraman for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: Yes, I'm changing as well. You hadn't noticed? Didn't I show enough in my work on the last Climate Control, propelling my team to victory and earning a second title match at Summer XXXTreme XI? It's no longer just about smashing through the singles ranks for me anymore. It's now about decimating the tag-team ranks as well. Because as luck would have it, I found myself an extremely talented partner, one that can hold her own in any situation. Between us, we now form one of the most dominating teams Sin City has ever seen... and we're just getting started.

~Peter smiles to himself, enjoying the thought of the chaos to come, with the Saviors continuing to roar back to prominence. It's a good thought to have.~

Peter Vaughn: Yes, indeed, times, they are a-changing. This whole first run, taking over the Roulette Division and smashing down every opposition to it? That's just the first scene of a full show on the way, boyos. You all just wait and see what's to come. A newer Peter Vaughn. A BETTER Peter Vaughn. The future of this company, written in stone as it was meant to be. You think I was tough on my own before? Just wait and see...

~Suddenly, Peter looks off past the cameraman, across the warehouse from them. He nods, settling himself back into the bulldozer. But he can still be heard as he speaks to the cameraman one last time.~

Peter Vaughn: You probably want to clear out of here now, friend. As I said... I have a partner now. And I think she's too excited to wait any longer.

~As Peter backs up the bulldozer through the hole he made, the cameraman turns to focus on the other side. There, we can see a large machine closing in from the other side, swinging what appears to be a wrecking ball. The crane rotates, bringing the wrecking ball back, before launching it forward towards the warehouse. With a wild yell, the cameraman abandons all pretense of professionalism and makes a run for it, racing towards the earlier hole that Peter had made. We hear a loud crash from behind, as the building's walls are caved in from the other side. A cloud of dust overtakes the camera, covering us up for several moments. Finally, the dust clears enough for the camera to show what's behind it: a partially-destroyed building, with more parts coming down every second, as the bulldozer and the crane continue their work. The cameraman can be heard, cursing, as he moves away, possibly to call about getting a different assignment next time. We fade out.~


~The picture comes up on a shot of Peter Vaughn, making his way slowly forward. He has a rope in his hands, slowly twirling the loop around as he inches forward. After taking a few more steps, he brings the swinging rope over his head, spinning it, before finally letting it fly. It hangs in the air for what feels like a long period of time, before coming down right on target, going right over the horns sticking upwards. Peter pulls the rope taut, smiling to himself, then starts as the sound of clapping reaches his ears. He turns and looks back, seeing one of his best hands, Sadie Anderson, making her way over.~

Sadie Anderson: Keep it up, and you'll actually be able to rope a real steer, Mr. Vaughn.

~Vaughn scowls for a second, even as the camera pans over to show that Peter had just roped a wooden post with two cow horns positioned on top of it. It was still an impressive toss, just not as impressive as it could have been.~

Peter Vaughn: If that Wyatt Bailey would just sell me cattle, I'd be able to practice for real.

Sadie Anderson: You know we don't usually do much cattle roping, don't you? That's more for TV and movies. Sure, it's a great skill to have, but you probably won't get to use it much.

Peter Vaughn: You never know. Sometimes anything goes in a wrestling match, after all.

Sadie Anderson: If you say so. Anyhow, I talked to two other cattle distributors, and they're willing to work with us. The fees aren't cheap, but I think we can afford it, if we cut back on a few other expenses.

Peter Vaughn: Don't even bother, Sadie. I've got another meeting with Bailey set up later on today.

~Sadie sighs, before leaning on the nearby post.~

Sadie Anderson: You're a stubborn son of a bitch, aren't you? There are other options. We shouldn't just ignore them because one man angered you.

~Peter doesn't say anything. He just starts rolling in his rope, walking towards the post to pull the lasso off of it.~

Sadie Anderson: If you're going to be a ranch owner, Mr. Vaughn, you really need to learn how to adapt.

~This causes Peter to look up at Sadie, before consulting his watch.~

Peter Vaughn: That reminds me, I'm supposed to be meeting Kim soon. She said she's got some... plans for me.

~A dark look flashes across Sadie's face, but Peter doesn't notice it. He's too busy taking the rope over to a nearby storage shed, hanging it inside. When he comes back, Sadie has moved into his path, trying to look as disinterested as possible.~

Sadie Anderson: So you and this Kim seem to be getting close.

Peter Vaughn: She's a great tag-team partner. I think she's going to be the one, Sadie.

Sadie Anderson: The... the ONE??

Peter Vaughn: Yep. The one that finally gets me to tag-team gold.

~Peter nods to himself, looking pleased at the thought, and again missing the mixture of expressions crisscrossing Sadie's face.~

Peter Vaughn: I've tried with so many teams. Chris Page. Mark Flynn. Bam Miller. But I've never been able to get over that hump. Y'know, Bam just won tag titles with Mac Bane. I'm happy for them... but damn it, I hate that hole in my resume. But I do think maybe, JUST MAYBE, this could be the turning point. Kim could be the one to get me there.

Sadie Anderson: So... so she just wants to meet with you to go over your strategy for your PPV match? Or is it going to be more training?

Peter Vaughn: Actually, I think she said something about a make-over.

Sadie Anderson: A... a what??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, something about how I'll fit in better with the team. Apparently Sin City is working on some standard press pictures, and she wasn't a fan of the first few.

~Peter pops out his cell phone, shooting the photos over to Sadie's cell. She looks at them, with each showing Vaughn and Kim Pain standing close together, as a tag-team normally would. Sadie looks a little annoyed, but works to cover it up, as Peter puts his phone away.~

Peter Vaughn: Look, I've got to run. Make sure that the chickens actually got their food this time, okay? The feeding machine's been a bit buggy the last few days. Thanks, Sadie.

~Peter pats Sadie on the arm, before turning and walking away. He heads towards the parking lot, where his truck, Gabriella, is waiting. Sadie watches him go, looking conflicted.~

Sadie Anderson: One of these days... you're going to figure it out... Peter...

~Sadie recovers, looking down again at her phone. She savagely deletes the pics, clearing them from her cell's memory, before stomping off towards the chicken coop. We cut away.~


It's a new experience, trusting my fate with another. I'm used to being fully in control of my own destiny.

But maybe this is what's needed for me to finally hold a tag-team title in my hand... one that I haven't stolen and hit someone across the skull with, I mean.

I've worked with Kim many times before, in various federations, and once or twice outside of wrestling. We saved a girl's life once. Wonder what ever happened to her? Anyway, it's clear that we make a superior tag-team, as shown by the way we dismantled Team Go and made our way into the finals for the Mixed Tag-Team Titles. Sure, some will moan and cry about me "cheating", and how it wasn't a clean win, but as a former janitor, I can assure you that it was plenty clean enough for me.

As they say, it's not cheating if you don't get caught. Everything I did, from that standpoint, is 100% legal, and if you think I won't be willing to go to those lengths again on the cruise, you're missing a few brain cells from too many shots to the head. I want this victory. Badly. Kim wants it just as much, if not more. If that means taking advantage of the situation in any way possible? So be it.

If I happen to, say, use an illegal object in the course of the Mixed Tag-Team Titles match, which allows us to score the pinfall victory, there will be no asterisk next to our team's name. We'll be the champs. If I maybe hold onto the tights just a little too tightly, the other teams can cry and demand rematches, but we'll still be the champs. And if Kim and I are just too dominant and don't even need to resort to 'alternative' options, again, nothing changes. We'll. Be. The Champs.

And that's the only outcome I'm really concerned with.

So let's talk about some of our male opponents, starting at the bottom. I'm looking at you, Oliver Zahn. Crazy to see you in this, along with Eiley. I'm surprised you were able to get out of school long enough to take the cruise, you kid, you.

If people want to bring up our victory being 'stained', that's nothing compared to Zahnie's way of moving forward. Using a distraction by having music played, then stealing the victory? Hey, I'm not knocking it. It's a good way to win. But the fact that you lost to Milo in the singles rematch, well, that tells everyone what they needed to know. I think it's clear in everyone's minds that Ollie is the weak link in this one. He's too young, he's too inexperienced, and he thinks he's a hell of a lot better than he actually is.

Not that I think Eeely is any better.

I give their team a 2% chance of walking out with the belts, and that would require an army's worth of interference.

Next up, we've got Alexander Raven and Luna Vanity. Y'know, Alex, you've got a name that strikes a chord with me. Raven. I made it a point last year to work to take down every Raven I could find. And you know what? I succeeded. I defeated "Raven" Matt Knox in a title match, while also knocking him silly when I first came to SCW. I took down James Raven multiple times, beating him last at the CCPE vs. The World supercard. I even defanged a guy named Rufus Raven.

I think that was his name, anyway. Guy didn't deserve to be on the list. At all.

So having a chance to clip another Raven's wings is always a joy to behold. That being said, it remains to be seen where you end up on the list, Al. After all, you're not exactly swimming in wins lately, are you? You weren't able to reclaim the Internet Championship at Into The Void, getting your ass spanked by Mr. WashingMachine. Hey, been there, don't plan on doing it again. You also got your 'bells' rung by Calvin Harris, which I'm sure required a lot of ice on your part afterwards. Could you see the swelling? Or was it about the same?

At least you managed one win, with your team getting into the finals by beating... the Barnharts? Seriously? THAT was your competition? Oh, man... Ollie's starting to look better and better, honestly.

I give Raven & Vanity a 5% chance of winning. I think I'm being generous.

But let's look at team #3, and the one that everyone seems to think is the biggest threat coming into this one. We've got Austin James Mercer & Tempest, former Mixed Tag-Team Champs, and I will say, this is the team I'm most looking forward to fighting. Mercer's got something there, a great deal of history being at or near the top. He's even held the Heavyweight Title here, along with guys like Wash, Cross, Mac, and Knox... all men that I've beaten, by the way.

I'd love to add another former champion to the list.

And then, of course, there's the fact that you're the only team in the mix to have held Mixed Tag gold here before. And you got there, I'm sure, in a very honorable fashion, by beating...

The Barnharts? Seriously?? Why do they keep popping up? I destroyed Bill easily, after all. Hmmph. Well, I GUESS that doesn't take away from your run with the belts... that much... but then you eventually lost them to Goth & Mercedes. Did I mention that I've beaten Goth? Not an easy victory, by any means, but I'm proud to have fought him when I could, taking him down.

All-in-all, Austin, I still consider you the most dangerous male involved in this one. You're the reason I'd give you guys a 10% chance of winning, much better than the other two teams. I mean, Kim & I are still far and away at the top, but you two could be the dark horses. That means you're going to be the man I fully target, Austie. I take you out, I eliminate you, and Kim will get to blow Tempest away. Because when it comes down to it... Kim Pain is going to be the most dominant force out there, even more dangerous than I will be.

And I'm looking forward to seeing it, as I send all you guys flying out of the way, clearing the path for a lot of Pain and punishment.


~The truck pulls up outside of the small shopping center, parked expertly to the side, where there is a lesser chance that anyone's car door will dent Gabriella. Peter pops out, making his way over to the store front, considering the businesses that are all located here. He doesn't look too pleased, but then, Peter's never been the type to spend much on anything relating to fashion or looks. His 'style' has always been more focused on in-ring action. Another car door opens, and he watches as Kim Pain gets out. She had apparently been waiting for him.~

Kim Pain: Hello, Peter. Thanks for agreeing to meet here.

Peter Vaughn: Of course. We're partners, after all. So what do you have in mind for today? I thought you might have a photographer with you, so we could take more promotional shots.

Kim Pain: That will wait for later. For now, we have a lot of work to do, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: We do?

Kim Pain: Look, Peter, I think you're a great guy and a heck of a wrestler. But if you're going to be with me in a championship team, well, there are some standards that need to be met.

~Peter arches a slightly overgrown eyebrow, looking puzzled. This might be what helps Kim make her first decision, as she grabs Vaughn by the arm and starts dragging him to the left.~

Kim Pain: Let's start off with that haircut of yours.

Peter Vaughn: What's wrong with my haircut? It's a practical look, and it keeps people from being able to yank on my 'long locks'. It removes a vulnerability, having it cut like this.

Kim Pain: Maybe, but I think the stylist here can do something to... freshen it up a bit. Maybe bring that cut into the 2020's.

~They get to the door of the hair stylist, which has a bright sign stating "A Breath of FresHair". Peter stops them there, noting a couple of pictures displayed on the front, one of them being an older man who bears more than a passing resemblance to Patrick Stewart, aka Captain Jean-Luc Picard.~

Peter Vaughn: Just tell me that bald isn't in style right now.

Kim Pain: You'd never pull it off. Now, c'mon! Don't you trust me?

Peter Vaughn: .... Sure I do. We're partners.

~Kim gets Peter inside the salon, as the door shuts behind them.~


~We rejoin the Saviors duo several minutes later, as there's very little less entertaining than a haircut, no matter who's doing it. We see Kim sitting to the side, reading a fashion magazine that might be from 2020, judging by how weathered it looks. She looks up as the door to the side opens, with the stylist stepping out. She gives a small sigh before walking over to Kim.~

Kim Pain: What's the verdict, Brianne?

Brianne: Well, I did what I could. You didn't bring me much to work with, Kimberly.

Kim Pain: I know. If we only had the time to grow it out more, but our cruise match is coming up too soon.

Brianne: Just remember, I'm not a complete miracle worker. Peter? You can come out now.

~The two turn towards the door, where Peter Vaughn cautiously pokes his head out. His hair is now styled up, somehow seeming to sit more fully on his head. His eyebrows look like they've been reshaped as well, adding more detail to the lines in his face. It's not a massive change, but it's enough for anyone who knows Peter to notice the difference. Kim claps her hands, showing respect to the stylist.~

Kim Pain: What was that about not being a miracle worker? Peter, you look great!

Peter Vaughn: If you say so. It seems like an awful lot of work to make it appear like this. It's so much simpler just to comb it in the morning and be done with it.

Kim Pain: Trust me, Peter, this makes a world of difference. Your life is about to start changing.

Peter Vaughn: That sounds like a threat.

~Brianne laughs, assuming it's a joke, but Peter doesn't join in. She adds in a few coughs before clearing her throat.~

Brianne: So if you agree, that takes care of the hair on his head. The next step would be the rest of him.

Peter Vaughn: Wait.... what?

Kim Pain: I don't know how bad it is under those coveralls, but we'll definitely need to make it more presentable.

Brianne: I'm sure. I've gotten in a new Super Fruit Wax that should work. It's got elements of cranberry & pomegranate added in, which helps the skin recover.

Kim Pain: That sounds like a perfect solution for him.

Brianne: It's not cheap, but then, good looks never are, are they?

~Both ladies laugh at this, as Peter repeatedly glances between them, looking suddenly concerned.~

Peter Vaughn: No. Nope. Not happening. The only wax I deal with is when I want my kitchen floor to shine.

~Peter seems adamant, but Kim's expression doesn't change. She steps towards him.~

Kim Pain: I thought you trusted me.

Peter Vaughn: I... I do, but...

Kim Pain: You know this is for your own good, right?

Peter Vaughn: But... but I...

Brianne: People do this all the time. It's natural.

Kim Pain: It'll all be over quickly. I promise.

Peter Vaughn: .... But...

~Both ladies take Vaughn by the arm, as they begin to direct him towards the back. His eyes flicker towards the exit, as if contemplating a prison break, but he knows that could backfire on him. Reluctantly, he goes with them, disappearing into the back.~


The things you put yourself through for team unity.

That said, Kim has earned my trust over the last few years. If she says this will help us towards becoming Mixed Tag-Team Champions, that I'm willing to go along with it. After all, I want those belts. I want to climb up one turnbuckle, raising the gold over my head, and be able to look to my left and see my partner doing the same thing. I want to hear the crowd react, realizing that Peter Vaughn is now a tag-team specialist as well as a singles dominator. I want to see the faces of our competition as they deal with the notion that the belts are now out of their range for the conceivable future.

It'll be a great sight.

Now, I know I didn't talk much about the other ladies in this contest. There's a reason for that. Two reasons, actually. First, the fact that I can't fight them here lowers my interest in them. I'd much rather focus my attention on zapping Zahnie and annihilating Alexie and Austie.

I hadn't really thought about the alphabet representation in this one. Crazy.

The other reason, though, is that I have seen Kim Pain in action. I've seen her destroy opposition, both male and female. I've watched her in training, sending unfortunate 'students' flying in every direction, learning only that wrestling can hurt. There's nothing stopping her from becoming one of, if not THE greatest female wrestler to ever come into Sin City.

You compare her to Eiley? Please. Kim's experience edge will swamp her. Luna? She's already proven she doesn't belong as a champion, losing the Bombshell Roulette Title in, what, one week? And then there's Tempest, who's this monster Bombshell threat, supposedly. And yet, what has she done without Aussie by her side? You'd think in three years, she would have won a singles title or two in Sin City. That just tells me that she's clearly the weaker member of her team, just as I suspected.

I'm one of the top wrestlers in the world today. I'm always a threat to become a World Champion wherever I go. But I still give credit where it's due, and I know for a fact that Kim is going to be the reason we win those Mixed Tag Belts.

Because once all the guys have taken the Plunge and are out of action, Kim's going to turn the Lights Out for one of your ladies. And that'll be all she wrote.

Prepare to meet your Saviors.


~We return to the stylist's shop, where the camera focuses on the clock above on the wall. It shows that it's been over an hour and a half since Peter was dragged to the back by Kim and Brianne. The camera slowly turns to the doorway, where it seems all the noise has finally stopped. The door swings open, with an exhausted-looking Brianne stepping out. She walks tiredly over to the nearby chairs, plopping down in one. Behind her, Kim steps out, a large smile on her face.~

Kim Pain: Great work there, Brianne.

Brianne: I... I never expected that to take so long. It was like... his hair was actively resisting the process.

Kim Pain: One of Peter's strongest attributes is the fact that he's stubborn. I guess that translates to his body as well.

Brianne: And that body!!! Did you... did you expect those abs under those coveralls??

Kim Pain: He's a great wrestler. Of course he's got an outstanding physique.

Brianne: ... I still would have never believed it.

Kim Pain: So how are you doing in there, champ? Ready to go?

~For a few seconds, there's no sound. We finally hear footsteps as Peter approaches the doorway, moving carefully. Very carefully. He's got his coveralls back on, but he's wearing them a little more loosely, probably to avoid any additional skin irritation. He looks from Brianne to Kim, showing some fatigue.~

Peter Vaughn: ... I've been held and tortured for days by sadistic men trying to change me. This... might have been worse.

Kim Pain: Stop being such a baby. At least you don't have to do it as often. Now, if you're good, we've got to keep moving. We've got a lot to get done still.

~Kim turns and pays off Brianne, giving her a large tip for her services. In the meantime, her words are just finally penetrating into Peter's brain.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait, there's... there's more?

Kim Pain: Of course there is. I think, next up, we need to talk about... what you're wearing.

~Vaughn looks down at his trusted coveralls, his face paling. Kim smirks as she directs him out of the stylist shop, even as Brianne gets out a beer from her fridge and pops it open, needing a drink after what they just went through. We slowly fade out.~


36
Climax Control Archives / Samples & Success - A Collaboration By The Saviors
« on: June 16, 2023, 08:25:16 PM »
~As the camera comes up, we see what appears to be the inside of a glass door. We’re close enough to the lettering that we can’t quite read what’s on the door; plus, it’s reversed. But we can see the two figures approaching from outside of the shop. The first to step up onto the curb is Kim Pain. She’s followed by her Saviors ally, “The Mechanic” Peter Vaughn. The two uncomfortably come up to the door, with Peter, showing some manners for once, opening it for Kim. They step inside, looking around the entire area.~

Peter Vaughn: Dear God…

~The camera slowly spins around, showing that the two wrestlers appear to have entered a wedding-themed store. There is a lot of white throughout, including various picture displays of successful weddings of the past. Tables are set up to the side, with versions of wedding snacks and wedding place settings placed alongside them. To the side, there’s another couple already going through samples of some of the good, grinning like mad at each other as they take turns feeding each other the delicious treats. Across the way, a wedding chapel display has been set up, apparently to help a couple decide on their decorations for the big day. All-in-all, it’s a lot to take in. Vaughn rubs a hand across his head, before looking back at Kim.~

Peter Vaughn: You know… I went to Hell last month.

~Vaughn nods to himself, as if this is common knowledge, as well as a perfectly legitimate thing to say while in a store like this.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say, it didn’t look like this. It was more fire and brimstone than art and decor. But, y’know… if I had to describe Hell… this still wouldn’t be that far off.

Kim Pain: I am sure it is as close to hell as we can get up here. It looks like a unicorn barfed all over that sector over there..

~Kim had the full body shivers from this place and she was glad that they were only supposed to do some catering but even for this she had doubts now.~

Kim Pain: Don’t ya leave me behind here…

~The owner of the store had come to greet them and if there was ever a perfect example of a Karen. This woman was it. Looking at Kim and Peter like a total snob.~

Karen: I think you two have come to the wrong place.

~Kim snarled a bit at the attitude.~

Kim Pain: We have an appointment. The Riddle-Penston wedding. My fiance could not make it so I brought my tag-team partner instead.

~Kim pulled Peter closer to her because she already disliked this Karen. The woman is still eyeing Peter with distaste, most likely because he still came dressed to this event wearing his favorite style of coveralls. Peter, for his part, is also taking in this Karen’s outfit, shaking his head at the excessive amount of fake jewelry and make-up applied.~

Peter Vaughn: If you want to default their deposit and give it back to them, by all means. But you’d be making a major mistake…

~The woman stares at Peter for a moment, still trying to decide if this isn’t just a practical joke from one of her staff. But, seeing as how there’s no laughter, she shrugs with a sigh and directs them over towards one of the tables.~

Kim Pain: Oh this pink has got to go. There is no way we are having pink at our wedding. Or white.. Or cream colored.

~The woman looks at Kim with something close to disgust written on her face. Especially when Kim strips the table of the pink and white linen tossing them on another table. The plain black table underneath was filled with the gold accents and Kim sighed.~

Kim Pain: Much better. Can you imagine Cyrus in a pink wedding setting…

~The woman stood there looking at Kim like a fish, mouth opening and closing...~

Kim Pain: Peter what do you think?

Peter Vaughn: Right now? I’m unable to stop myself from thinking about Cyrus in a pink wedding gown… because I thought that’s what you were going to say. And now the thought is trapped in my head…

~Peter shakes his head back and forth, as if trying to toss the thought out of his head. He then sighs, before looking back at the table.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say, this table looks better this way. Never saw a need for tablecloths. It was just another item you’d have to wash at the end of the meal.

~After a moment, Vaughn looks up at the still stunned woman, raising his eyebrows.~

Peter Vaughn: Well? We haven’t got all day. What else have you got to show us? Oh, that’s not pink, or white, or cream colored?

~No words come out of Karen’s lips. She just shudders for a second, before turning and heading to the back, likely to try and figure a way out of this nightmare. Vaughn sits back in the chair, shaking his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Customer service just isn’t what it used to be. So, Kim, about our match…

Kim Pain: Ariana and Carter right. I know Ari is good, and Carter is no slouch either but how well they can work together is a mystery to me. Ari has the attention span of a fruit fly.. She is a total sweetheart but oh my god is she easily distracted. We train together regularly as it is.. We have known each other and worked together before. We go in and kick ass...

~The Karen had returned with a simple black tray with some of the smallest snacks Kim had ever seen. She groaned at the sight of it.~

Kim Pain: You know that the guest list is about 20 wrestlers right. One of these trays would not fill them up for 10 minutes.. One of these trays each that is.

~Oh the look of disgust intensified at the commentary of the snacks. And Kim just raised an eyebrow at this.~

Kim Pain: We will want the size of the portions to be at least 4 times as big.

~Ignoring Karen Kim turned to Peter and grabbing one of the snacks which looked like a fancy little salami.~

Kim Pain: Team Go.. They can be a good opponent for the both of us. Carter is one of the most underrated superstars on the roster. He is a bit extra but he is a total sweetheart. Inside the ring he has had some knock downs and was only recently cleared to compete again after he was attacked.  Ari.. She is a tiny little thing but fast and has a quick mind.

Peter Vaughn: I can’t say I know that much about Ariana. I suppose some respect is due for her holding the Women’s Roulette Title for a time, much like I’m staying the reigning Men’s Roulette Champion. But one reign does not a career make. As for Carter, we’ve already fought here in SCW. Technically. Although if I’m being honest, I don’t feel like I had Carter’s… full attention.

~Vaughn reaches forward, looking at what might possibly be caviar on a cracker. He quickly puts it back down, before snatching a classic “pig in a blanket” variation. He takes a bite, his face showing some disdain as he looks into it.~

Peter Vaughn: What is that, lamb? A lamb sausage? Eh… I guess not terrible. Anyway, Carter looks like he’s been struggling since he came back. I’m sure he thought the tag division would be a blessing for him, at least until the other team bailed and the SCW staff made the right decision, giving the Saviors a slot. I’m hoping he’s going to feel a little bit more motivated in this one, what with having a partner and all. If he’s not, I’m afraid Ari’s going to have a lousy night. Actually, I probably will, too, since Carter wouldn’t be tagging in much.

~Kim nodded and grabbed another snack from the tray and it looked like a little puff pastry ball and when she took a bite out of it the disgust on her face was clear she was looking around for something where she could spit this out of her mouth. She found a little trashcan by the door and rushed over and spit out the supposed snack.~

Kim Pain: Goat’s cheese.. That is disgusting!

~Grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one go as she still shivered from the taste.~

Kim Pain: Okay.. I am seriously regretting this already.. This entire tray is a hell no… Moving on.. I am hoping Carter does tag himself in and he can be his true self again because the kid is definitely good.. Very talented.. I have seen him working with Whisper to get back on his feet and he is highly motivated and  talented when there is no crazy drama in his life.. Not too often but when he does he is on fire. Ari.. She is a scatterbrain.. Bit awkward at times.. Says crazy shit all the time..

~Still tasting the last snack she grabbed the bottle of water and poured herself another glass and filled one for Peter as well. The other couple was looking at them funny and they made a weird looking duo indeed. Peter in his coveralls and Kim in a very tight fitting pair of jeans and top.~

Kim Pain: I never been in the ring with Ariana.. I know her from the European tour mostly where we were dropped in the forest.. Bit of twitter interaction but that is it.

Peter Vaughn: Isn’t she supposed to be a Greek Angel? You know, it’s amazing how many angels and demons I’ve fought in the wrestling business. They’re really all over the place. You’d think it’d make them more dangerous, having wings and what not, but I guess that’s taking things too literal. I mean, honestly, from what I’ve seen of her, I’m extremely confident that you can annihilate her. She’s probably our best path forward to qualify for the Mixed Tag-Team Title Finals. That being said, if I get an opportunity to give Carter the Plunge, I’ll do it.

~Nearby, the other couple appears to be listening in, with the woman looking a little concerned at the talk of “Plunging” somebody. She is whispering to her fiance, saying that he should do something, but he’s already sized up Peter and decided not to do anything, a wise decision. Peter glances over their way, giving them a wave, before picking up another sample. He bites into it, then studies the half-eaten cookie for a second.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, that’s got a little coffee mixed in with the chocolate filling there. That’s not half bad. Caffeine and sugar, a righteous combination.

~He looks around for a sample for Kim, but doesn’t see one, so he gets up, walking over to the other table. The couple freezes, looking shocked, as Peter reaches across them.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me.

~Peter then grabs one of their samples, bringing it back over to his partner and setting it in front of her. The woman looks ready to lose it, but her fiance is still pleading for patience.~

Peter Vaughn: I’d try a couple of those variations. They might have possibilities for later in the evening.

~Kim picked up the cookie biting into it and agreed with Peter on the taste of coffee and chocolate being a winner.~

Kim Pain: You are right, they are good but how good of an idea is it to have a house full of wrestlers on sugar and caffeine?

Peter Vaughn: A fair point.

~The word wrestlers made the couple freeze again and they quickly looked away from the dynamique duo that is the Saviors tag team of Kim and Peter. Karen showed up and looked down her nose again which was starting to annoy the hell out of Kim.~

Kim Pain: Excuse me Miss..

Karen: My name is Karen..

Kim Pain: How fitting.. This tray is no good. The only tasty thing I would like to eat again was the coffee chocolate cookie. Other than that it won’t work for our guests or for myself and my fiance. And if you do not want my business I can take it elsewhere. We may have a small party but you would need to quadruple it in the amount of food served. I may be a wrestler Ma’am.. But I know when someone is looking down on us.. And we make 10 maybe even 20 times what you make..

~Kim hates to boast like that but she was done with the looks of disdain.~

Kim Pain: So are we going to be treated properly or will I be taking my 5 grand deposit back and find someone else who does not mind catering to big eaters.

~Karen flushed and grabbed the tray and hurried to the back. Kim snarled at the lady looking her way with terrified wide eyes.~

Kim Pain: I am sorry Peter now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?  Ah yes.. You were confident in my abilities. Dude you know I always believed in you and I know you got your side of the match covered. And with us training together more often now. We will be a team to take notice of..

Peter Vaughn: Definitely. The work’s already begun on bringing back the strong name of the Saviors, with my holding of the Roulette Championship. Things will only get more clear when you and I storm through all of the competition and claim those Mixed Tag-Team Titles. It’s been a dream of mine for a while to finally hold tag belts in my career, one of the few holes in my resume as a professional wrestler. I think this time? You and I? We’re going to be golden.

~He gives the table in front of them a smack, rattling it, as he smiles in anticipation of their future triumphs. Beside them, it’s beginning to look like another wedding might be in trouble, as the bride is furious with her groom’s inaction. They are bitterly complaining to each other, already arguing like an old married couple. They’re loud enough that both Kim and Peter look over at them.~

Peter Vaughn: You two mind keeping it down? We’re trying to make some big decisions for a wedding and a match over here.

~The bride, apparently having had enough, angrily grabs one of their remaining samples, a pastry of some kind. Who knows what it could be filled with, the way this tasting has been going. It doesn’t matter to her, as she angrily chucks it right at Peter… with Kim effortlessly catching it before it lands.~

Kim Pain: Bad idea bridezilla..

~Kim gets to her feet and slowly walks over to their table. The bride looking scared and growing more scared with each step Kim takes while the groom is focused on Kim’s boobs. His bride to be sees this and whacks him across the arm and points at Kim coming right for her.~

Kim Pain: We were having a pleasant conversation before you so rudely interrupted us.. Now let me introduce myself. I am Kimberly Pain.. The name is not a gimmick it is what I deliver.. And that right there is the current reigning and defending SCW Roulette Champion Mister Peter Vaughn. We are tag team partners and we are discussing business matters while he helps me pick out what is actually edible in this place. Do you have a problem with us? I mean you tried to throw this at my partner..

~The woman slowly shakes her head.. No..~

Kim Pain: I didn’t think so. Now while I go back to my partner you two can settle this properly or brawl but take it outside there are people trying to have a decent conversation here.

~Kim walked back to their table with that extra little sway in her step and it was not long until a vicious slapping sound was heard. Kim sat down at the table and glanced over at where the couple was sitting. The bride was gone and the groom sat there with his hand pressed against his cheek.~

Kim Pain: Now where were we.. oh right! We are golden.. With every match we have we will be getting closer and closer to being golden for sure. I mean.. Individually we are great.. I see no reason for us not to be great together.

Peter Vaughn: I mean, it’s all but guaranteed. It’s a super team. We may be facing Team Go, but we’re clearly going to be Team Gold. It all comes down to confidence. I don’t think Ari and Carter have enough of it. They’re almost surely coming into this match thinking that they don’t stand a chance. And yes, they’re correct, but you can’t go into a fight with those kinds of negative thoughts.

~Vaughn reaches over, grabbing one of the nearby mugs. He takes a drink to clear his palate, wincing as he does so.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, that’s disgusting, whatever it is.

~He slides the mug away from him, sloshing some of the brownish liquid onto the table.~

Peter Vaughn: Now it’s true. I am coming off my first singles loss in SCW, and I know a lot of people, including Washington, were predicting doom and gloom to come into play with my future here. But once you’re a veteran in this sport, a single loss doesn’t remove your confidence. I’m 1-1 now with old Washy, and there will be a third meeting soon enough. Right now, though, I’m still fired up with the thought of getting to have two matches at the same PPV. Talk about stacking the deck!

Kim Pain: Dude we are gonna be rocking the PPV that is for sure. But for now.. Do you see the crazy hairdo on that chick over there.. I bet you 10 bucks you can not get that goats cheese creampuff in that beehive..

~Kim smirked and held out the disgusting snack out and raised an eyebrow at Peter. She had already decided that she was not getting her catering done here. The food was meh.. The drinks disgusting and there was only 1 decent cookie in the entire taste testing.~

Kim Pain: Well partner? Can you?

~Vaughn can’t help but smirk. He’s never been one to turn down a challenge from anyone. He takes the creampuff from her, weighing it in his hand.~

Peter Vaughn: It’d be better if they had kept the weight distributed the same, but clearly they have no concept of perfection here.

~After a few seconds of aiming, Peter launches the creampuff with a strong throw, trying to keep it accurate. It doesn’t quite work, as the creampuff spins end over end… but it still manages to wedge itself into the back of the beehive, sticking there thanks to the leaking contents inside. The woman barely seems to notice, acting as if she just felt a fly buzzing around her. She finally turns, looking frustrated as she walks back over to their table with another large tray of samples. Many of these items look considerably less fancy, including what appears to be chicken nuggets, beef sticks, and a few small pies.~

Karen: We can make considerably more of these items… Miss.

~She reluctantly adds on the “Miss”, clearly not meaning it. She then turns away with a grumbling sound, moving towards where she expects her “better” couple to be. But the only one sitting there is the groom, who appears to be crying as he talks on the phone to someone. It’s possibly the bride, as he’s leaving a message, begging for another chance, saying that it’s all that woman’s fault. Slowly, Karen turns back around, looking back at Kim and Peter, who are both nonchalantly munching on wings. Vaughn raises one of the bones her direction.~

Peter Vaughn: Needs dipping sauce. Got any ranch?

~Karen, shaking with entitled rage, stomps over to them. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out an envelope, which she quickly throws into Kim’s lap.~

Karen: That’s your deposit. Now… Get… Out!!

~Kim and Peter glance at each other, neither budging out of their seats just yet.~

Peter Vaughn: But, what about these samples that you just had your chef back there work so hard on? You want them to go to waste?

~Karen leans heavily across the table, almost spitting as she responds to Peter.~

Karen: I don’t give a damn! NOW GET OUT!!

~As Karen sits there, seething, Peter glances over at Kim, who has casually picked up one of the pies in her hand.~

Peter Vaughn: It really would be a waste, wouldn’t it?

Kim Pain: It really would.

~Kim looks at the pie in her hand and smirked devilishly towards Peter. Karen is shaking in anger now but is getting visibly uncomfortable as Kim and Peter get up holding pies in their hands.~

Kim Pain: Food fight!!!

~Kim throws the pies as hard as she can towards Karen while Peter takes care of the man formerly known as the groom. How dare he blame them for that Bridezilla walk out after all. Karen screams as one of the cream pies hits her dead in the face. The second slammed into her chest the cream slowly sliding down into the blouse she was wearing. The food fight truly got underway when Karen and the groom started throwing food but Kim and Peter had already moved away from their table and while munching on an apple pie they walked out of the building.~

Kim Pain: I am thinking of a big ass cake that Kat makes for us and a BBQ after.. Sound good?

Peter Vaughn: You can never go wrong with a Kat cake. I’ve got a couple of nice BBQ grill set-ups I can have delivered, if you want.

~Behind them, the door flings open, with Karen stepping out.~

Karen: YOU… !!!

~The two halves of apple pie hit her at the same time in the face, sending her reeling back inside. The door shuts, but not before we hear a loud crash, most likely of Karen tripping back into one of the tables. A hysterical laughter follows, as the now ex-groom is sounding a little unstable. Kim and Peter, though, aren’t listening. They’re already heading towards the truck.~

Peter Vaughn: After eating all that terrible food, I feel like I need to get some training in. Shake some of it loose from my body before it tries to become a permanent resident. And hey, can’t hurt to keep prepping for AriCar, right?

~Kim nodded and opened the door to the truck to climb in.~

Kim Pain: Definitely need to work this crap out of my system too.. Oh BBQ tonight? We could ask Maria if she makes those badass wings and ribs.. I am pretty sure the entire HG will help us convince her if she needs it.. I can not believe those tiny bite snacks though. Who in the hell pays for that crap. I might be more motivated than ever to beat Aricari..

Peter Vaughn: Well, once we tear through them and move on to the PPV, you’ll be able to work out the finer details of the perfect BBQ reception. Oh, and the wedding, of course. And I look forward to being there, cheering you on.

Kim Pain: You got to be there.. I mean I need my wingman, my tag team partner right there with me.. But for now.. HG here we come and I am gonna tell Cyrus that he can forget about fancy catering bills they won’t be coming because that crap was horrible.

Peter Vaughn: Plus, you see how messy and disorganized that place was?

~Vaughn laughs as he puts the truck into gear, pulling out. They start to drive off, leaving behind the building they were just in. We can see the glass doors again, now with various ‘samples’ smeared across the windows. Inside, we can still hear hysterical shrieking and yelling, as the chaos continues inside. We slowly fade out.~

37
Climax Control Archives / Action & Inaction Can Both Have Consequences
« on: June 02, 2023, 11:47:15 PM »
~The camera comes up inside the darkened warehouse, a location we've been so many times this year for Peter Vaughn during this time in Sin City. This time, as the lights come up, we see a single wooden easel sitting in the middle of the room. There's a large piece of art positioned on it, but as the easel is set up facing away from us, we can't tell what's on it. You'd think the cameraman could just walk around and show it to us, but apparently that's not allowed in the current circumstances. At the very least, the cameraman waits as Peter Vaughn slowly walks out from the right, behind the art. He takes it in, smiling, before stepping forward towards us.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello there, Sin City. Hell of a ride it's been so far, hasn't it?

~Vaughn appears to be in a good mood tonight, but it's always hard to tell with him. He may smile, he may scowl, but the emotions never seem to reach his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I mean, let's face it, who else other than myself expected the impact I would have when I first ran out to help out Mac Bane? I'm betting a lot of the veterans here at SCW simply thought I was a gimmick, brought in to boost the Saviors and propel Mac, Goth, and Kenny's careers forward, among others. Nobody expected me to still be here in June, tearing things up and dominating the competition.

~At this, Vaughn reaches down, rubbing across his lower belly. Get your minds out of the gutter, he's shining up his Roulette Championship that he's wearing.~

Peter Vaughn: Certainly no one thought I would storm Into The Void and walk out with this beautiful championship. With that victory, I made my first real mark in the company, showing how I can elevate this gold to a new level. I added another notch in my climb upwards as a future Hall of Famer in the business. And yet... still, for some reason... I feel like people view me as the outsider.

~For a moment, Vaughn frowns, before his smile once again returns.~

Peter Vaughn: It probably doesn't help that so many of my allies have had some bad breaks as of late. I've been seen more as a solo artist, rather than a member in good standing of the Saviors. But that doesn't change the fact that I've been unbeatable in singles competition. And one of those wins... is pretty important for my immediate future here.

~With that, Vaughn steps over to the artwork, slowly turning the easel around. He makes sure it stays steady, finally allowing us to see the professional print from an SCW match. With "Blaze of Glory XI" etched in flames at the top, we're shown a still of Peter Vaughn in mid-rotation, about to land the standing moonsault that put away Jack Washington in their contest at the PPV.~

Peter Vaughn: This was an epic clash, showcasing my skills to the SCW PPV audience. It was also, apparently, a wake-up call for this man, Mr. Washington. Only a few weeks after this picture was taken, Washington won himself the SCW Internet Title in an unconventional way, pinning Alexander Raven during the Blast From The Past mixed tag tournament. This is why our match at the next Climate Control is actually a champion vs. champion battle for the fans.

~Vaughn studies the photo for a few moments, focusing on Washington's pained expression on the mat.~

Peter Vaughn: It's actually rather fascinating how often this seems to happen. There have been several times now where I score the pinfall victory over someone, and it seems to boomerang them forward into success. I suppose some still take a loss to a former janitor as an insult, and find new motivation to push forward in the sport. That's at least better than the ones who outright quit, at least. Washington took his defeat, and turned it into a boost to his career. Gotta admire him for that.

~The picture is suddenly moving, as Vaughn hauls it off the easel, looking at it with both hands.~

Peter Vaughn: It truly was an amazing night in my SCW career.

~Vaughn seems to admire it for a few more seconds before suddenly raising it in the air... and ripping it apart across his knee!! After a few more 'knee shots' leave the fabric of the art in tatters. Vaughn then flings it off to the side, out of sight.~

Peter Vaughn: But hey, that's all in the past, isn't it? It's not like this one's guaranteed to be a repeat. You have to think Washer is going to take this contest more seriously, seeing as how we're both showing ourselves to be pillars of SCW right now. So I'm not going into this expecting the same result. I'm expecting Wash has learned a few new tricks, and I'll have to break out a few of my own to work towards another victory. It's going to be an epic Round 2.

~Vaughn then turns back to the empty easel, patting it on the side.~

Peter Vaughn: And who knows? We might find ourselves another inspiring piece of art to display in the future.

~With a smirk, Vaughn turns and walks away. We stay on the empty easel for another several seconds before finally fading away.~


~The picture comes back up on what appears to be a closed-off room, possibly in a basement somewhere. At the very least, there are no windows, nothing to indicate what time of day it actually is. The main points of light are coming from a series of television monitors set up on the right side of the room. On each screen, we can see what looks like a shot from a security camera, many angled downwards to focus on a specific line of sight. Most appear to show a ranch setting, with cowboy hats being visible in many of the shots. The camera slowly readjusts, showing us one screen in particular: it appears to be a shot of a large entry space, presumably a business of some kind. We soon know exactly which one as Wyatt Bailey, a cattle dealer who had a confrontation with Vaughn a few weeks ago, walks into frame. He's talking with one of his associates, a larger man who regularly hits the weights, and we can hear their voices through the speakers.~

Wyatt Bailey: You've gotten the delivery sent off for the Four Horseshoe ranch, Butch?

Butch: Yes sir, they should be getting them within the day, assuming the driver doesn't get lost again.

Wyatt Bailey: Who's driving?

Butch: Dwight.

Wyatt Bailey: Damn. He's going to get lost. Tell me why I haven't fired him yet?

Butch: Because he's Marie's cousin.

Wyatt Bailey: *sigh* Damn it. Give him a call later, make sure he's at least in the right state, okay?

Butch: Sure, boss.

Wyatt Bailey: Now talk to me about what happened with the grass seeds. What went wrong?

Sadie Anderson: Oh my God! This is so boring!!

~The camera suddenly pulls back from the screen, showing us Sadie sitting in a computer chair, leaning backwards while running her hands through her hair. She shakes her head, looking over her shoulder.~

Sadie Anderson: This really isn't in my job description, Thomas. Why are we doing this again?

~The shot shifts again, this time spinning to show that Thomas Hill, the half-brother of Peter Vaughn, is standing a bit behind Sadie. He takes a sip from his mug, which could have anything from vodka to iced tea in it, before responding.~

Thomas Hill: You know what Peter wanted. He thought we'd find something incriminating by watching this footage, something we could use for Peter to negotiate a delivery of cattle for the PMV ranch.

Sadie Anderson: And by "negotiate", you mean...

Thomas Hill: Probably blackmail. But I don't want to know the details.

Sadie Anderson: You know, there ARE other cattle distributors we could use. If this guy doesn't want to work with us, why are we so determined to force our way in?

~Hill shrugs, taking another sip before answering.~

Thomas Hill: Bailey said no to Peter. You know that never goes over well.

Sadie Anderson: ... We need to work on that with him. There will always be people who say no in this business.

Thomas Hill: Maybe, but in any business Vaughn's ever been involved in, he's always found a way to turn that "no" into a "yes". Hard to see him changing that policy now.

~Sadie sighs, pushing back in front of the displays.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, I don't think he's going to get anything he can use here. We've been watching for days and days now, and all I've really learned is that this Bailey guy is a stickler for doing everything right.

Thomas Hill: Yep, he's a straight arrow, and apparently a loyal son of a bitch, too, the way he's sticking to his guns for his friend Judd.

Sadie Anderson: At this point, Thomas, we're just wasting our time. We're never going to get...

~There's a sudden slam from the speaker, surprising Sadie. She turns, looking back at the screen, where Wyatt Bailey has just brought his fist down on the nearby desk.~

Wyatt Bailey: I'm tired of this, Butch! You may be one of my best workers, but you get these damn fool notions in your head that your ways are better, and they just end up screwing everything up! I've done this job for over forty years now! I know how to get it done! You just need to listen, boy! You understand?

Butch: Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir.

Wyatt Bailey: Just get this fixed! Pronto!

~Bailey storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Butch watches him go, straightening up in frustration afterwards.~

Sadie Anderson: He IS a yeller, isn't he?

Thomas Hill: An old yeller.

~Sadie turns, just staring at Thomas, as he chuckles to himself. He notices Sadie's expression, though, and coughs, going back for some more liquid refreshment. Sadie shakes her head and turns back, even as Butch meets up with another of the ranch hands.~

Cowboy: You alright?

Butch: Course I'm alright. I've taken plenty of his chewing outs in the past, it's not like one more makes any kind of difference. So is everything set?

~The cowboy looks around in either direction to make sure no one else is close. He neglects, unfortunately, to note the camera, possibly thinking it wasn't powerful enough to pick up their voices. But Bailey apparently spared no expense.~

Cowboy: We've got the old Mustang rigged. When old man Bailey goes for his Saturday drive in the country, he's guaranteed to have himself a little 'accident'.

Butch: Good. It's about time we put him out to pasture. I should have been running this place a long time ago.

Cowboy: You know you'll have the support of the boys.

Butch: Damn straight I will. No one would expect that "loyal Butch" would do anything to his 'mentor', the old fool. I just wish I could be there when it happens.

~The two men laugh, as the cowboy walks off. Butch, meanwhile, leans on the desk while giving an evil sneer in the direction Bailey had gone.~

Butch: Your time is up, grandpa. I'm sick of you calling me Butch. It's William, damn it!

~Butch, er, William then storms away, leaving the room empty. Flabbergasted, Sadie turns and makes eye contact with Thomas, who has apparently been so stunned, he's allowed his mug to lean forward, spilling out what appears to be... milk? A strange choice, to be sure, but Sadie's not concerned with that right now.~

Sadie Anderson: Call Peter and get him here. Now.

~Thomas nods, putting the mug to the side and getting out his phone. He heads for the stairs, since cell reception isn't that great in basements, as Sadie turns back to the set-up, working to make a copy of everything they just saw. We cut away.~


I gotta say, I'm always a lover of surprises.

Take this upcoming match, for instance. I thought Washey and I had already concluded our business and gone our separate ways. After all, he moved on to the Internet Championship, and I sealed the deal on getting the Roulette Title around my waist. It didn't seem like we were likely to cross paths anytime soon. And yet, here we are, booked in a non-title Clash of the Champions main event at Climate Control.

How'd you take that news, Wash? How'd it go over?

Were you excited, knowing that you had a chance to avenge your PPV loss to me? Were you anxious, realizing that you could end up 0-2 against The Mechanic, squashing your recent momentum against that Raven guy? Were you constipated? That... really has nothing to do with our match, you need to be careful about what you're eating, friend. Greens are necessary for a clean bowel movement.

But let's make our way out of anatomy and talk about the truth.

I'm willing to bet you felt a swell of several emotions when you found out about this contest, because let's face it: you now have everything to gain from it. If I knock you on your back once again and get the quick 1-2-3, everyone will say: Well, yeah, we knew that was coming. I won't get as much glory from it as I did the first time, doing it in front of an extremely active live audience. Even though you're wearing that pretty gold there that I'm told might be on a higher level than mine, a fact I disagree with, it just wouldn't be the same taking you down a second time.

But hey, if lightning strikes and you're able to get that quick roll-up or surprise me with a move I didn't see coming? You get all the praise. You beat the unbeatable machine that had been tearing up Sin City for months now. You'd get to say, maybe that first win was just a fluke... and it'd be hard for me to argue it. After all, we'd have one win each, and we'd have to go to a tiebreaker in the future. And hell, the way our careers are going right now, that tiebreaker might take place for that World Championship.

Yeah, I see you over there Michael. I'm still keeping an eye on you for the future.

So yeah, I'd say all the pressure should be on me. You're the one with nothing to lose, other than a little more pride. But you know, I'm not really feeling the pressure, either. I mean, my championship is not on the line. I've already added your name to the List of the Vanquished. I don't even get a guaranteed title shot against you if I do end up squashing you. So why should I be concerned that I could be defeated at Climate Control?

It seems to me that I don't have anything to lose, either.

Oh, sure, there's the winning streak and the pin streak. The boys on commentary like to make a big deal about that. But for me? It's all about moving on to the next match, the next glory. I'm making my way up the ladder, and if I hit a missing rung? It happens. I mean, hey, I lost a shocker in TPW, losing my championship there, but I kept moving forward, and now I'm basically running that joint, and will be getting my title back sooner rather than later.

I've stumbled in the XWF, and yet found my way to more gold. In the WGWF, aggravation just led me to win the West Coast Rumble. I've had teammates let me down, like here in the Blast From The Past Tournament, and still, I'm on the path to achieving even more success.

So I'm not worried about taking a loss to you, Wash. I'm also not concerned about gaining another win over you.

I guess you could say that I'm a little ambivalent on the matter.

But that's not going to keep me from bringing my A game to the show. After all, when all is said and done, it's all about the next match. And if the next match involves me shredding down the ego of another champion,  then so be it.

Just know, Wash, that it's nothing personal, and really, I'm not going to get too much satisfaction out of wiping you out again. I mean, they'll be some satisfaction. I'll have a good time. But overall? It's going to be another night of the Mechanic taking care of business.

Afraid surprises will likely be minimal, boyo.


Butch: Your time is up, grandpa. I'm sick of you calling me Butch. It's William, damn it!

~As the man storms out of view once again, we see that Peter Vaughn is now sitting there, watching the footage. He sits with his hands in a steeple position, taking it all in. As the room's now empty, Vaughn turns to look back at Sadie and Thomas, both of whom look a little anxious.~

Peter Vaughn: So is that it?

Sadie Anderson: What do you mean, "is that it"? That's not enough??

Peter Vaughn: I'm just making sure there was nothing else you wanted to show me, that's all.

~Sadie looks over incredulously at Thomas, who clears his throat before responding.~

Thomas Hill: Well, Peter, we kind of thought that'd be more than enough there for you. It seems clear that this Butch guy...

Peter Vaughn: William.

Thomas Hill: What?

Peter Vaughn: He wants to be called William.

Thomas Hill: ... Okay, WILLIAM. This William guy is planning to take out Mr. Bailey and make it look like an accident! He's going to steal Bailey's company straight out from under him! Literally from his cold, dead hands!

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. That seems to be what he's doing, alright.

~Vaughn nods, showing little concern, which seems to bother both Sadie & Thomas.~

Sadie Anderson: ... And what, we're just going to let this happen??

Thomas Hill: At the very least, we need to report it to the police or something. We can't just let this happen!

Peter Vaughn: And what, exactly, would you be telling them, Thomas? What would be your proof?

Thomas Hill: I... I mean, the video...

Peter Vaughn: You mean the illegally obtained video that we should have no access to? That video?

~That causes Thomas to pause, as he scratches at his head.~

Thomas Hill: Well... well, we'll just say that someone... overheard something... at the bar, maybe.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, heresy! Yeah, that always works out in the eyes of the law.

Sadie Anderson: Okay then, Peter, what SHOULD we do? How do we stop this?

Peter Vaughn: Are you sure we want to?

~There's a shocked silence in the room, as if a quiet bomb just went off, deafening everyone. But after a few seconds, Thomas speaks up.~

Thomas Hill: I don't understand, Peter...

Peter Vaughn: Well, it's rather simple. I want to do some cattle business with Mr. Bailey, but Mr. Bailey has, so far, turned me down. Maybe this William fellow would be more receptive to my offerings of double the price per head of cattle. He's certainly not going to have any loyalty to Judd or anyone else in the Union.

Sadie Anderson: You're... you're talking about just letting a man die, Peter. A death we could prevent.

Peter Vaughn: No, Sadie. I'm simply weighing all the options.

Sadie Anderson: I can't believe this! I thought... I thought you were better than this, Pe-... Mr. Vaughn.

~Shaking with undisguised fury, Sadie turns and stomps away, heading up the stairs. Thomas watches her go, then turns back to Vaughn, wanting to get through to his half-brother.~

Thomas Hill: We can't just let this happen, Peter. We have to do something.

Peter Vaughn: Why? With one flick of my finger, this video is erased... and this problem takes care of itself.

Thomas Hill: And... and you want to win that way?

Peter Vaughn: ... It's not about winning or losing. It's about business.

Thomas Hill: It's also about having control over a situation, Peter. Even if you don't take any action here, just letting it all play out... there are consequences. You just saw one pounding up the stairs. There will likely be more.

~Vaughn sighs, sitting forward in the chair. He reaches for the buttons, his finger hovering over the delete key. But he then rewinds instead, going back to where Bailey is reading the riot act to Butch/William. Vaughn studies it again for a few moments.~

Peter Vaughn: He really does sound just like my father...

Thomas Hill: ... What?

Peter Vaughn: This man. Bailey. He reminds me a lot of him, as he got older.

~Thomas chooses not to comment, letting the moment play out. Vaughn finally pushes away from the desk, turning and facing his half-brother.~

Peter Vaughn: Alrighty then. I suppose we'll have to decide on a Plan B.

Thomas Hill: Okay, and what would that require?

Peter Vaughn: Not much. Just unrestricted access to the garage where Bailey's Mustang is located, and a few hours for me to repair a problem or two.

Thomas Hill: You'd... you'd just repair the car? Like that?

Peter Vaughn: They don't call me the Mechanic for nothing. I mean, sure, I'm not a genius with automobiles, but I doubt they hid their handiwork that well.

Thomas Hill: Okay... okay... we can work with this. At the very least, it's a step in the right direction. I'll go see what I can arrange, okay?

Peter Vaughn: Sure, Thomas. You do that.

~Thomas hurries away, heading up the stairs, while Vaughn once again plays the footage forward, showing the evil grin of Butch/William zoomed in on the screen. Vaughn studies it, thinking it over, before flipping it backwards to bring up another shot of Bailey's face.~

Peter Vaughn: Maybe this can prove worthwhile, old man. Or maybe, just maybe, we'll find ourselves sticking to Plan A after all.

~Vaughn's hand again moves towards the delete button. But after a second, he saves it instead, moving it to a flash drive. Vaughn pops the drive out, pocketing it, before then getting up and leaving the room. He leaves behind a black screen on the main monitor, possibly not a good omen for the future. We fade out.~




38
Climax Control Archives / Possession Is 9/10ths Of The Law...
« on: May 19, 2023, 07:24:02 PM »
~The warehouse where we normally see Peter Vaughn is oddly lit up this time, allowing us to see practically into every corner of the building. Most of the corners, though, appear to be empty, at least with our viewpoint. The only item that seems noticeable is a strange, liquid-like line that seems to go down the center of the warehouse. The camera focuses on it, as, off-camera, we hear the striking of a match. Suddenly, the liquid, which is apparently flammable, ignites in the distance, with a wave of fire coming right at the camera. Smartly, the cameraman jumps to the side, while still managing to record the flames as they pass by. There's a reason this man gets paid the big bucks.~

~As the cameraman turns, we see the line of fire head straight at a large structure of some sort. As soon as the first lick of flame hits, the entire structure goes up, or at least portions inside of it. The inferno flares upwards, igniting, as we can see it through the gaps carved into the structure. These gaps, when you step back far enough, become clear as letters. The word "CHAMP" is spelled out in flames, glowing inside the warehouse, likely putting off an incredible wave of heat. The cameraman focuses on the word for a few more seconds, then finally turns back to his right... where we see "The Mechanic" Peter Vaughn casually leaning against the wall, his SCW Roulette Championship wrapped around his waist. He smirks at the camera, then taps the belt.~

Peter Vaughn: What do you think, Sin City? Too subtle?

~Vaughn laughs, before straightening up off the wall while looking towards the lens, the glow of the flames still evident on one side of him, casting some wild shadows.~

Peter Vaughn: I told all of you when I first appeared here in Sin City that I'd be wearing gold someday, sooner rather than later. I'm betting some of you out there didn't believe me, but here we are. I'm now holding Goth's favorite championship, the Roulette Title. It's gold that has an impressive history, worn by such greats as Mac Bane, Griffin Hawkins, and, well, I'm sure some of the others were pretty good as well. But now, it's got an accolade it's never had before: it's been held by the greatest wrestler in the world today, "The Mechanic" Peter Vaughn.

~Vaughn unbuckles the belt, holding it up and staring at it for a few more seconds. Then, surprisingly, he drops it on the floor, stepping away from it.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, that gold doesn't matter at the moment, because I've already been assigned a match for Climate Control, and wouldn't you know it? It's non-title. Honestly, that's probably one of my least favorite words in the wrestling lexicon. But I get it. The powers that be didn't think my next opponent was worthy of the title shot, and considering it was set to be ol' Milo again, I suppose I can see their point. It's not like losing in the main event should give you a boost towards another belt, right?

~Vaughn turns and walks over to the still-burning structure, although the flames certainly seem much lower now. The fuel may already be running out.~

Peter Vaughn: I have to admit, I actually was looking forward to facing Milo for a third time, if only to put a few things behind me and get a strong, convincing win on him. But the "card is always subject to change", and you just have to roll with it. So here I am, fresh off my second Pay Per View victory in a row, wrestling against a returning challenger, someone who had some success in the Underground, but not as much on the main show.

~Vaughn moves to the right, reaching to the side, where he grabs a fire extinguisher that was sitting there. He pops off the safety switch with precision, showing that he's definitely used one of these on more than one occasion.~

Peter Vaughn: HB Carter. You've been granted this chance to shine on your return, but I can't say they had your best interests at heart. I've already beaten down two former SCW Roulette Champions and one former SCW Heavyweight Champion to reach where I am today. I've proven my worth to the Saviors, earning my first piece of gold after less than 3 months in the company. How long have you been around, anyway? Well, that's not important.

~The wrestler turns towards the structure, blasting off some sodium bicarbonate towards the flames that are left. They're quickly snuffed out, with Vaughn finishing with a few more shots in the corners. He then tosses the extinguisher away, giving us a loud clanging sound when it hits the ground nearby.~

Peter Vaughn: What's important, HB, is that I'm the hottest commodity SCW has ever seen... and it's going to be extremely tough for anyone straight off the injury list to be able to cool me off. Have you got what it takes to hang with me? Or are you going to end up like Milo, Washington, Malachi, & Barnhart... and get burned?

~Vaughn snaps his fingers. Miraculously, the fire inside the structure rears back up again, engulfing the gaps around the letters. This time, Vaughn doesn't make any move to put it out. He walks away, collecting his newly-won championship, and departs, leaving the tall flames to grow even higher. The cameraman slowly beats a retreat as the picture fades out.~


David Schoeder: Call to order! Call to order, everyone! That means shut the hell up, Doc!

~The view comes back into focus as we're once again back at the meeting area for the Dallas Cattle Union. The head of the union, David Schoeder, is shown sitting in the center of the main table once again, pointing to one of the guys who was still standing and talking. There's a bit of laughter as the man known as Doc nods and walks back to his seat good-naturedly. Satisfied, Schoeder turns back to the main group.~

David Schoeder: Alright, folks, so the votes have been tabulated. We have the results of the request from the PMV Ranch made a few weeks ago. I'm proud to say that Mr. Peter Vaughn HAS earned enough votes to be granted a first-level cattle license, allowing him to join our union and become a thriving member in the best field in the world today! Congratulations, Mr. Vaughn: you're a cattle rancher!

~There are a lot of cheers from the crowd as Peter Vaughn stands up, nodding and smiling at those around him. Of course, there's also a large contingent that looks extremely displeased. It's uncertain how close the vote was for Vaughn's license, but you can almost guarantee it wasn't unanimous. One person in particular, Judd Harrison, is shown storming out of the room, obviously disgusted with the result. Vaughn doesn't pay him any mind, shaking a few more hands that are offered to him. He then steps up to the table, where Schoeder hands him a mic.~

Peter Vaughn: I just wanted to say thank you for everyone who voted to approve my application. I swear that I won't let any of you down, and I'll work with anyone who wants to make some money over the next few decades. Thank you again.

~Vaughn hands back the mic as there's another round of applause. Vaughn then steps away, nodding to everyone before heading out the door. He goes down the hall, to where two people are seated, waiting for him.~

Thomas Hill: So, what's the verdict?

Sadie Anderson: Are we in the cattle business or not?

~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders, then smiles. He pats his half-brother Thomas on the shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course the vote went our way. I'm surprised you guys doubted it.

Thomas Hill: You... you got it?? The license??

Peter Vaughn: We're now certified as the PMV Cattle Ranch.

~Thomas gives a cheer, excited, while Sadie happily jumps up and lands in Vaughn's arms, giving him a celebratory hug. The hug seems to last a little longer than necessary, but she finally lets go, a little red in her cheeks as she steps away. Vaughn, of course, barely seems to notice, as he's still smiling down at the paperwork he brought out with him. Thomas, meanwhile, shakes his head, then puts an arm around his half-brother's shoulders.~

Thomas Hill: Let's go celebrate!

Peter Vaughn: And I assume the ranch will be financing it again?

Thomas Hill: As your accountant, I can assure you that business meals are easy to write off come tax time. Now let's go!

~Thomas goes to put his other arm around Sadie's shoulders, but she deftly maneuvers herself in front of them, leading the way out of the area. As they leave, we can see Judd Harrison step out from a nearby room, glaring after them. We cut away.~


There are some people that just can't stand when you're a winner.

I wonder if you're going to be one of those people, HB. I've researched you some to prepare for this contest, but I can't quite decide if you're a sore loser or not. I guess we'll find out after Climate Control, won't we? Assuming I win, of course, but then, I always assume that's going to happen, whether it eventually does or not. I tend to be a pretty positive guy about my chances to annihilate the competition.

You know, usually, during this time, I make up lots of silly nicknames and goofy bits for my opponents to get annoyed by. But I can't say I've faced someone with the name "Helluva Bottom" before. I get the feeling that my usual tactics there won't bother you at all, considering you gave yourself that name. So I'm just going to stick with HB and move forward, okay?

So, HB, I searched through the SCW title records, looking for your name. I found a Kevin Carter as a former SCW Heavyweight Champ. I found a Brooklyn Carter and a Cadence Carter. But I didn't find an HB Carter. I was a little disappointed, until I realized I could also check in the lower-ranked fed, Sin City Underground... and you were all over that, weren't you? I don't know how much clout is given to someone who won championships there, because that place was pretty much deceased by the time I started showing up.

But you know what? We'll count it. Just so I can say I've throttled another former champion.

Now, I expect you to give me the same props, since I've currently got a championship that you've never been able to gain. I know you're probably more focused on Austin James Mercer, due to him putting your ass on a shelf for a month. You also seem like you want to get your hands on Michael Harris, which, let's face it, almost everyone in Sin City is interested in that. But all eyes on me, HB. You being distracted is going to make this contest be over WAY too fast.

You'd better be coming into this one thinking it could be your greatest test in wrestling so far, facing the stiffest competition you could ever see across the ring from you. You'd better not be thinking of me as some sort of "warm up", expecting that you'll shove me aside in your pursuit of vengeance. Because if you do that... I'm going to bash the back of your head in, just out of spite.

But we don't have to do that, do we? You're going to respect my skills in the ring, and I'm going to give you the chance to prove you're exceptional enough to come out from the Underground.

And then, when I earn the 1-2-3 after a hard-fought battle, maybe I'll give you some encouragement. Maybe I'll show you some respect. Just earn it, HB. Prove to me that you're worthy enough to be competing in that squared circle.

And then, assuming you come through as a competitor, even when I'm standing there victorious, I'm make sure not to be a sore winner. I promise.


~The shot comes up on the PMV Ranch, Vaughn's new pride and joy. The shot, clearly from a drone, shows how the ranch has expanded, with a new line of fences set up to create a cattle pen on the south side of the ranch. The drone drops down, getting us a closer view, before turning and showing Peter Vaughn standing next to the fence, with one foot up on it. He shakes it back and forth, nodding in appreciation of its sturdiness, before turning away. Sadie is seen walking up to him as we join them in a more standard shot.~

Sadie Anderson: So do you think the workmanship will hold up?

Peter Vaughn: Your guys did a good job, Sadie. I'm confident that this will work. I'm less confident in letting the cattle graze on the back fields, but we'll figure out some way of keeping track of them once they arrive.

Sadie Anderson: You really are gung ho about this cattle business, aren't you? Why are you so motivated? You're a world-famous wrestler now, and it's not like you grew up out in the country. I still don't get why you've fought so hard for this.

~Vaughn opens his mouth, then closes it again, thinking things over before he just says the first thing on his mind. After a moment, he collects his thoughts and continues.~

Peter Vaughn: Honestly, Sadie, the first reason was because a ton of people told me I couldn't do it. I never take that well. I've been a competitive force for years now, and the best way to get under my skin is to tell me I can't pull it off. But if you want to know why I bought the ranch in the first place... I guess it's because my dad used to dream about stuff like that.

Sadie Anderson: Really? You know, you don't talk about your father much. I know he was a janitor in the city, and you followed in his footsteps. So he dreamed about getting outdoors and away from custodial life?

Peter Vaughn: Isn't that what most people do, Sadie? Whatever world you're stuck in, you always think about how to escape it and do something else. I've been luckier than most. I've gotten to choose a variety of different paths. My dad, though? He was pretty much trapped... because of me.

~Even as Vaughn delivers the line with basically no emotion, it still hits a chord for Sadie, as she once again wonders what's hidden behind the mask that Vaughn normally wears. In the last year since she first met him, she's rarely seen anything behind it, and despite all her best efforts, she's never been able to pierce Vaughn's emotional walls... despite wanting to, more than anything.~

Sadie Anderson: You can't blame yourself for your father's profession. Wasn't he a janitor even before you were born?

Peter Vaughn: Depends on how you look at it. I think he took it as a side job when he got married, hoping to return to college... and then, well, it never happened. Maybe if Mom hadn't left him, he could've found a way out. Now, he's gone, but maybe he's living through me a little bit. Who knows, right?

Sadie Anderson: Yes, Peter... who knows...

~As Sadie turns away, looking out at the newly built cattle pen, Vaughn's phone rings with the tune of "This Time It's Different". It's a very popular download for ringtones, or so I've heard. Vaughn answers it, stepping away.~

Peter Vaughn: Vaughn here. Yes? We're expecting a delivery in the next two... what do you mean? Really? And who do I have to thank for this? Okay... they're located nearby Dallas, right? Okay, give me the address. I'll pay them a visit.

~Vaughn hangs up the phone, glancing over at the empty cattle pen again and shaking his head.~

Sadie Anderson: What's going on?

Peter Vaughn: It never gets any easier, does it?

~Vaughn turns and walks away, heading to where his beautiful truck, Gabriella, is parked. Sadie, having no clue what's happened, just watches him go, walking away from her once more.~


It IS interesting that I've yet to have what anyone would call an "easy" match in Sin City Wrestling.

I know in some organizations I've joined, I've immediately been fed the scrubs, the dregs of the roster. Those men and women who haven't come to the realization yet that they shouldn't be competing in the professional ranks. I think I've helped more than one realize that their future belongs in some other field, if I left them any future at all.

But I'll admit, Sin City hasn't been a smooth ride, despite my many victories. I've had to fight hard for every step up the ladder I've made, and that even includes people like Malpractice and the Barnie. I mean, neither one backed down, even when it became clear that they had no chance against a man like me in a Ladder match. For all my insults towards them, hey, they didn't run, so good for them. Maybe Malachi even IS a future champion someday.

And now, instead of resting on my laurels after a great Roulette victory, here you are, HB, my next opponent, and I'm certainly not overlooking you. I get the feeling that you could be an intense fight, with your unique style in the ring. I'm not going to underestimate your talent. I know, I know, people probably comment on your looks or actions, but you know... look at me. The usual comments I get is "He's just a janitor" or something, being judged before they've even got their face kicked in.

So I won't be doing that to you, HB. I'm just going to stick to the facts that you've yet to win a championship in Sin City, and that you need to find a way to earn that way up the ladder once again. After, of course, I've defeated you.

You see, I've got the Saviors' good name on my shoulders. I need to keep getting the victories, keep promoting how great our stable is until guys like Kenny, Mac, Goth, and the others can get back on their feet. That means this one's not just a run-of-the-mill match to me. It's an important contest. So I'll be coming at you with both barrels, not holding back in the least.

I'm hoping that's not too much for you, and that you'll be able to stand toe-to-toe with me. It'd be a real bummer if I land a knockout blow in less than five minutes. I mean, sure, you can blame the ring rust and having been injured and all, but that doesn't do me any favors, does it? I want every victory to be one worth praising, even if it's because I grabbed some trunks in the pin or got in a surprise shot when no one was looking.

A win's a win, but I still want it to be seen as an accomplishment, rather than a gimme.

But you're not going to break my streak, are you, HB? You're going to give me a fight, right? You're not just going to stand there as I pummel you into oblivion, or as I launch you into darkness with the Revenged? You won't just lay there, with zero energy left in you, as you take the Plunge?

Don't make it easy, HB. Because I don't want easy. I want a challenge.

Otherwise, I really might put you back Underground, and you may find yourself thinking of what Austin did with fond memories.

Looking forward to the fight, JB. Looking forward to the Plunge.


~The shot comes up on Gabriella coming to a stop, sending up a small cloud of dust. Vaughn pops out of the truck, making sure to lock and arm it, before heading towards the door. He heads straight inside, not bothering to knock, as he looks around at the couple of men standing there.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm looking for Wyatt Bailey.

~The two men look at each other, then one steps forward, an older man with a scruffy mustache.~

Wyatt Bailey: I'm Bailey. Who are you, and why should I not have my boys toss you out of here?

~The other man steps to the side, clearly contacting a few more guys to come in, but Vaughn isn't intimidated. He steps right up to Bailey, sizing him up.~

Peter Vaughn: So I heard that you've refused to accept my offer to purchase some starting cattle from you.

Wyatt Bailey: Ahhh, I shoulda known. You're that Vaughn fella, aren't you? The one who just bamboozled the Cattle Union? Those idiots may think they have a grip of what's going on in our business, but most of them are just fat cats who have never been out on the field, scrapping manure off their shoes. Just like you, I'd expect.

Peter Vaughn: If you're thinking I'm fat, you need to get your eyes checked.

Wyatt Bailey: I was more meaning in the pocketbook for you. You thought you could just breeze in here and buy your way into the ranching world?

Peter Vaughn: ... That's exactly what I've done. And as you can tell from how the PMV Ranch is doing, I've done it exceedingly well.

~Another group of men come in, now alerted to signs of trouble. They move to the side, watching, as Vaughn and Bailey face off.~

Wyatt Bailey: You may have gotten your fancy little license there, Vaughn, but you haven't proven to anyone that you belong here. Why the hell would I sell you perfectly good head of cattle, when you're making a mockery of everything I hold dear?

Peter Vaughn: Interesting. Is it because I'm a wrestler? Or because of my past employment? Or is it just because I wasn't born here?

Wyatt Bailey: All of the above. And more.

Peter Vaughn: You know, you've got a pretty strong attitude about this. Not sure I exactly understand where this hostility is coming from.

Wyatt Bailey: Well, it ain't up to me to explain it to you. You're just going to have to deal with it, aren't you?

Peter Vaughn: So I suppose offering you double for each head of cattle wouldn't make a difference?

Wyatt Bailey: You can take all of that city money and shove it up your behind. We don't need a dime of it.

~This gets a raised eyebrow from Vaughn, as he starts to put two and two together.~

Peter Vaughn: "We", huh? I bet that means you've been having a discussion with one Jughead Harrison.

Wyatt Bailey: Old Judd and I, we go way back. So there ain't no way in hell I'm giving you anything, city boy.

~Vaughn nods, then looks around at the men standing around. He looks pretty confident that he can take all of them in a fight, if he needed to. They should have gotten more to come in.~

Peter Vaughn: So bribery's out. That leaves violence. What happens if I decide to beat the hell out of all of you? Will I be able to get my point across that I deserve to be sold to?

~Bailey, clearly an old-school western sort, isn't intimidated, either. In fact, he looks ready to get his own shots in, if needed. But he also smiles and points to the nearby corner, where we can see a red light flashing.~

Wyatt Bailey: If you attack me and my boys, well, we're going to have to do a number on you. And then, with those cameras, we'll have all the proof we need to show that you started it. Get out of here, Vaughn. Don't show your face in my establishment again. You want cattle? Have them shipped in from overseas or something, because there's no way you're getting any of my prime stock.

~Vaughn glances around at some of the other cameras, working things through in his head. He then turns and steps towards the door, even as one of the cowboys steps in his path, grinning. Vaughn gives him a look, then starts to step around him. The man gives him a shove, as if to help him towards the door.~

Cowboy: That's right, take your scrawny...

~Vaughn is immediately spinning, though, coming back around with a massive heel kick that sends the cowboy flying. He's out before he hits the ground, lying flat on his back. The rest of the men look shocked, but Bailey's still not showing much. He just shows some disappointment at the boy laying there.~

Peter Vaughn: Be sure to keep that footage handy, so it'll show he went after me first. Be seeing you, Bailey.

~Vaughn turns and goes out the door, as Bailey grabs a mug from the nearby desk and steps forward. He splashes whatever was in the mug onto the downed man, who comes awake, sputtering and trying to clear his eyes.~

Wyatt Bailey: Get this chump out of here.

~Two men grab the cowboy and pull him away, taking him out the back door, as Bailey turns and stares out the window to where Vaughn is getting back in his truck. Bailey can't help but give a small smile, which he quickly erases before turning away. We then join Vaughn as he's inside the truck, dialing a number on his phone.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Bill, it's Peter. Yeah, I know, I KNOW! But I've done right for the Coalition whenever it's needed me, right? Okay then. So here's what I need from you. I'm going to need access to a select line of security cameras on a specific network. I've got the address, and I can get you more information if you need it. Alright. I'll email it to you, then, but you really should start carrying a pen with you. Just get it done, okay? Thanks.

~Vaughn hangs up, then starts the engine. Gabriella purrs, as she's been retrofit to run extremely smoothly. She's probably better cared for than any of Vaughn's current livestock. He pats the wheel, then looks one more time at the building in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: Gotta admit... he kind of reminds me of you, Dad. Seemed like a tough customer. He's probably stood his ground for decades now, making his opinion law. Then again, he's never had to deal with someone like me before, has he?

~There's no answer, not that Vaughn was expecting one.~

Peter Vaughn: Here's to another battle, old-timer. I hope you're ready.

~Vaughn then puts the truck in reverse, backing out, before heading off down the road. We fade out.~


39
Supercard Archives / Just Some Minor Obstacles In My Path...
« on: May 04, 2023, 04:27:39 PM »
~Welcome back to the warehouse! The room looks fairly empty this time around, as the camera pans around the darkened area. One by one, though, light begins to come through the various windows scattered around. The light, though, isn't your typical light. It's the familiar red and blue flashes that signify the police have arrived. Some of them cast an ominous glow through the iron bars on the windows, bringing to mind thoughts of prison life. At least, for those of you who have experienced it. As the lights continue to flash, we see Peter Vaughn step out of the dark corner, walking towards the camera. He is dressed a little differently here, as his coveralls are now of the orange variety, typical for prisoners of the penal system. He looks behind him, taking in the flashing lights, before turning back to look straight at us.~

Peter Vaughn: There's something about those lights, isn't there? The red and blue flashes that immediately grab your attention, especially if you see them gaining on your vehicle from behind. Add in the shriek of the siren and the threat of violence nowadays, and you can't help but feel some anxiety about what's going to happen next. It's enough to get anyone's blood pumping, wondering what they did wrong to bring out the 5-0 on them, tracking them down.

~Vaughn reaches down to his faithful remote, which is currently strapped to a pocket in his coveralls. Blinds start lowering, gradually cutting off the lights of the police.~

Peter Vaughn: That being said, I've never found myself fearing the "PoPo", as my dad used to call them. Back in the day, in a different time, I truly believed that the police were on our side, so I knew in my heart that they were on my side. They were there to protect me and my family. I expected the best of them. Of course, nowadays I have a different interpretation: namely that I don't care what their motives are. I just know they're getting in my way. They're just a nuisance, a hinderance... an annoyance.

~The heavy blinds lock into position, completely cutting out the world outside. Of course, that does have the effect of making everything dark inside the warehouse as well. From the darkness, we hear Vaughn's voice.~

Peter Vaughn: But I can block out their sirens and their lights, because there's only one light I care about anymore... the spotlight.

~A blinding light comes down from above, highlighting Vaughn as he stands there, smiling. In the dark, he apparently shed the prison outfit, as he's back in his usual clothes.~

Peter Vaughn: At Into The Void, I'll be claiming the spotlight for myself, no matter how many people are inside the squared circle with me. I'm going to continue my Sin City Pay-Per-View winning streak, and I'm going to claim my first championship with the company, as I continue my ascent to the top. As for guys like Bulldog and Malachi? Well...

~Vaughn looks around to either side of him, where there are no additional spotlights shining down. It's complete darkness all around him.~

Peter Vaughn: I guess those two are going to have to get used to seeing in the dark, because no way in hell are they coming with me.

~Vaughn turns and starts walking away, and surprisingly, the spotlight follows with him, staying straight above him. It must be on some sort of track, designed to keep Vaughn in range. The man does love his gadgets. He reaches the door, kicking it open as soon as he's close. We once again can see the flashing police lights outside, along with what are apparently a few yells towards the door. Vaughn looks back, grinning.~

Peter Vaughn: The spotlight... will always be mine. And so with the Roulette Championship.

~Vaughn storms outside, slamming the door behind him. If there are any more sounds, they're muffled, as the spotlight goes out, taking us back into the darkness.~


~The video comes on, seemingly taken from the cameras inside the police car. We see the view out the windshield camera, as the vehicle comes to a stop behind Peter Vaughn's prized truck, Gabriela. The officers both get out, marching over to where Vaughn and his half-brother, Thomas Hill, are looking at them with shocked expressions. We can hear the officer's shouted warning loud and clear.~

Police Officer: Peter Vaughn! Stay right where you are with your hands visible at all times!

~The rest of the conversation is muffled, as Vaughn looks ready to strike, only to decide on a more peaceful approach after his half-brother calms him down. The officers bring Vaughn back over near the car, his hands cuffed in front of him. He turns at the doorway, looking back at the semi-distraught Hill.~

Peter Vaughn: You know where the spare keys are kept, Thomas. Keep Gabriela safe, okay?

~The officers don't wait for the brother's response, as they push Vaughn into the car. The angle switches to a front view, where we can see both the front and back seats of the vehicle. The two officers get inside, as Vaughn leans back on the seat, as if preparing for a vacation rather than an inquisition. They head out, with the one officer reaching for the mic.~

Police Officer: Unit 8 calling central. We've got a 10-15 at Chamberlain’s Steak & Chop House. No issues expected. We're 10-19. Over.

~The station worker replies, receiving their transmission, as the vehicle pulls out. They drive down the road, with the driver making sure to slow down for a few moments at the stop sign, pretending to look left and right several times. In the back seat, Vaughn can be seen tensing up. As we know from the end of our last promo, he's currently seeing his ranching nemesis, Judd Harrison, smirking at him as he watches him get arrested. The car then pulls forward, heading down the road.!

Police Officer #2: Glad this run is almost over, Martinez. This is a waste of our time.

Officer Martinez: Are you kidding, Phillips? This is for your benefit too, you know. Just trust me on this.

~As the vehicle continues on its journey, we focus on Vaughn, who seems to be studying the handcuffs locked around his hands. He then works with them, managing to twist them enough so that he can reach his watch. He fiddles with it, making some adjustments, and suddenly the watch gives a loud beeping sound. Martinez immediately looks in the rear-view mirror, checking things out, but Vaughn has straightened up. He nods to them, now putting a smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: So you boys work for ol' Judd-head, do you? He pay well? Good benefits?

Officer Phillips: Be quiet, Vaughn. You have the right to remain silent, don't waste it.

Peter Vaughn: Hey, I just want to know how much it's worth, putting together some trumped-up charges against me. I mean, assault? That's an easy one, I'm a wrestler, I can see everyone believing it. But bribery? That's a bit of a stretch. Do you really think people are going to look at me and think I'm loaded enough for that?

~Phillips just looks away, but Martinez gives a loud snort.~

Officer Martinez: You own a ranch, for God's sake...

Peter Vaughn: And you think that makes me a rich man? You should see the overhead I have to put up with. I DO plan on that ranch being profitable, though, if I can find a way past your boss Harrington.

Officer Martinez: Good luck with that. Mr. Harrington is the most powerful person in this city.

Peter Vaughn: More powerful than the mayor? I'm friends with him, by the way.

Officer Martinez: The dirt that Mr. Harrington has on him will keep in line, and you don't have to worry about that, anyway.

Phillips: Enough, Martinez, we don't need to talk to him.

Officer Martinez: Hey, the man wants to chat after being screwed, what's wrong with that?

~Martinez gives a short, raspy laugh, as Phillips shakes his head. Vaughn sits forward, getting his hands up on the barrier between them.~

Peter Vaughn: So Judd told you guys to come and arrest me? And you just did it? Without worrying about any consequences?

Officer Martinez: Hah! What consequences? We're perfectly within our rights to arrest anyone we believe has committed a crime. It's up to the prosecutor's office to decide if the case should move forward or be dropped. Of course, by the time they get around to tossing this one out with an 'apology' to you, your little vote will have taken place, won't it?

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh, so you know about the cattle union vote. I guess that makes sense.

Officer Martinez: When that board hears all about what you've been arrested for, and how you're suspected in the death of Mark Pettigrew, well, I'm pretty sure that vote's not going to go your way.

Peter Vaughn: Pettigrew, huh? Never met the man. Actually, I heard he was actually a rival of Juddies as well. Seems to me it'd make more sense that Harrington took him out.

Officer Phillips: Pettigrew died of natural causes.

Officer Martinez: Oh, that's what the medical report says, kid, but I happen to know there was something covered up in that one. Who knows? Maybe Pettigrew WAS eliminated. A lot of people think that... and many would be glad to suspect the man who bought his ranch from his widow.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, yeah... people always suspect me of doing the wrong thing, don't they? I'm kind of used to it by now.

Officer Martinez: Well, then, you should be perfectly fine just sitting in jail for the next day or two until you're able to make bail, knowing that Mr. Harrington has squashed your dreams of being a cattle rancher once and for all.

Peter Vaughn: Well, Harrington and you bozos, since you've trumped up these charges against me.

Officer Martinez: Damn straight! You remember us when your little ranch is going belly up, hah hah hah!

~Martinez laughs loudly as he makes another turn. Phillips just looks annoyed with the whole thing, slumping to the side. In the back, Vaughn's smile is slowly growing as we cut away.~


I do so love it when someone can't keep their mouth shut. It makes my job so much easier.

Like, say, my man Mallary. Or Malic. Or just Mal.

All fun nicknames, and it's true, I do tend to love mixing things up... Malachi. And do you know why I do it, when everyone thinks it's juvenile and ridiculous? Well, because it gets under people's skin like nothing else I've done. Why, it's worked on you, obviously, as you're ready to make another careless mistake and get ko'ed once again. I was taught a couple of years ago that the best way to get a victory over an opponent is to start early, before the match, before the night of the match, before the wrestlers have even arrived at the arena.

You start worming your way into their psyche, and you've got weapons to use against them. That's something you're going to need to work on, Mally. You need to build up some defenses for that sort of thing, and not let them get under your skin... or in your head. Then, maybe you WILL someday live up to that "future champion" billing.

And let's get one thing straight: I don't want to see you go walk off a bridge or anything. I'm not that kind of guy. I definitely want to see you competing at Into The Void, because I've learned that you don't get much respect for beating up on someone who's not fully invested in winning. I'd rather my opponents come into the match with some sense of thinking they could win, even if in their mind, it would be a miracle.

I want you to try, Malk. Try and not get defeated.

Hey, in this kind of match, you might even get to say you didn't get pinned or submit. You can leave that to the bulldoggy and have something to hang your hat on. Unless it's a ladder match or something, then, well, damn, sorry about that. You'll just have to find a way to deal with the fact that I took you down twice in a row, coming out victorious and leaving you in the dust.

But hey, you've still got the future to look forward to, right?

You still that Bella lady hanging off your arm, and I think I heard she's pregnant? Could just be a rumor in the tabloids, but if she is, congratulations. Maybe that's where your "future champion" can come into effect, getting that bright blue medal that says "World's Greatest Dad" or something. You can get all those participation trophies that they love to hand out as you spend time with your family.

I know it sounds like I'm mocking you for that... and I am, a little. But the truth is, I know I'm never going to have a family. I'm never going to come home to someone waiting for me, because it's just not in me to have a relationship like that. I just don't have that... kind of connection. So you should cherish what you've got. Go home to it and be happy.

You've got something that I'll never have, and once I get the Roulette Title by smacking you two bums down after a tremendous brawl, I'll have something that you'll never have.

It feels like a fair trade to me, personally.


~The cruiser continues on its way, getting off the main highway.~

Officer Martinez: Only a few more blocks, Vaughn, and then we'll be getting you... checked in.

Officer Phillips: And don't even think about causing us any problems there. You're in enough trouble without adding the assault of a police officer to your record.

Peter Vaughn: Y'know, I think I've been accused of that before, so it wouldn't exactly be a new addition to my file. I mean, I don't think anyone would be surprised by some... aggression from me.

~Both men turn for a second to side-glare at Vaughn, who's still smiling in the back of the cruiser. He's got his hands up close to them, tilting one of them to the side.~

Officer Martinez: You're a real nutcase, aren't you?

Peter Vaughn: You're not the first to say that, and definitely won't be the last. So you guys should know... I kind of admire your willingness to earn some extra money for your families. I assume that's why you're doing it, at least, Phillips. I see that wedding ring you've got on.

~Instinctively, Phillips puts one hand over the other, hiding the ring, even though it's already been seen.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't see one on you, Mitchell. Your woman bail on you? You have the feel of a divorcee.

Officer Martinez: Shut up, Vaughn, or you're going to 'trip' on the way into the precinct.

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh, okay, as long as we're going with threats... you two have one more chance to do "the right thing" and let me out before we get to the station.

Officer Martinez: Or what? The big, bad wrestler's going to tear off this screen between us and attack? We don't have and tables or chairs in here, you idiot.

Peter Vaughn: ... You're sitting in one right now...

Officer Martinez: YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!! You aren't going to be able to fight your way out of this one!

Peter Vaughn: Maybe not... but I do have some other connections, which include a half-brother who's a big fan of technology.

~Martinez grins and nudges at Phillips, who looks slightly concerned with where this conversation is going.~

Officer Martinez: And what? Your brother going to hack us or something? Hah!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, no, he wouldn't be doing anything like that. He loves technology, but he's not particularly great at working with it. No, I bring it up because he's wanted me to get more into the modern world. He even gave me this watch...

~Vaughn taps at the watch on his wrist, not an easy thing to do with handcuffs on, but he manages it. He manages to turn it and press on something, and there's another loud beep that catches both officers' attention, having heard it earlier.~

Peter Vaughn: You have to love watches these days. People couldn't just rely on them telling time. They expanded them to have stop-watch capabilities and to set alarms to wake you up. But even that wasn't enough. Now they come with built-in internet access, able to communicate with the World Wide Web... and of course, they now have mics, giving them the ability to record conversations and ship them out to... I think they call it The Cloud.

~Phillips' face has noticeably paled, as he looks over at Martinez, who has been talking way too much during this cruiser ride. Martinez looks pissed, gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary as he works through what Vaughn's saying.~

Peter Vaughn: The nice thing is, you can set someone else up to have access to your Cloud information. See, I'm not big on keeping track of things like that, but my half-brother? Oh, he's a wizard at it. He's probably a little OCD if I'm being honest, but sometimes that can work in your favor... like now, for instance.

Officer Martinez: You son of a bitch.

Peter Vaughn: Now, now, let's not bring families into this. You know if I wanted to, I could have waited and revealed this information later on... in court, for instance. But instead, I decided we might as well do this here, because it's better for all concerned if we just get this over with now. You let me go, removing any hint of those 'false charges', and that recording magically never surfaces again. Your careers are safe. Now doesn't that sound like a win/win?

Officer Phillips: Donny...

Officer Martinez: Shut up, Phillips, I'm thinking!

Officer Phillips: What's there to think about?? I never wanted to do this stupid thing anyway!! Now pull over!!

Officer Martinez: GOD DAMN IT!!

~The police cruiser suddenly, violently snaps to the side, causing one car to blare its horn at them. The cruiser then ends up parked alongside the curb, only a block or so from the police station. Martinez angrily fumes as Phillips gets up and opens the back door. Vaughn gets out, raising his hands suggestively, and Phillips quickly takes the handcuffs off.~

Peter Vaughn: There now, that's better. Don't you feel better, officer?

~Phillips just looks away, disgusted. It's hard to tell if he's more annoyed at Vaughn, Martinez... or himself.~

Officer Phillips: Just get out of here.

~Vaughn nods, then looks in the passenger window at the still furious Martinez, who glares over at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Good luck in your explanation to Judd, boyo.

Officer Martinez: This isn't over, Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I can GUARANTEE it's not over, Martinez. Not for you, and not for Harrington. Because you only get to take me by surprise once... I'll be seeing you.

~Vaughn pats Phillips on the shoulder, causing him to wince. He gets back in the cruiser, not looking at Martinez as he grabs the mic off the dashboard.~

Officer Phillips: Unit 8 calling central. 10-22, repeat, 10-22. Over.

~The radio operator acknowledges the call, sounding confused at the cancellation, but doing their job nonetheless. The cruiser pulls away, leaving Vaughn standing on the edge of the road. He looks left and right, as if trying to place exactly where he is, before he pulls out his phone and presses a quick-dial number.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Thomas, it's me. What? No, I'm not wasting my one phone call on you. I'm free. Huh? NO, I'm not on the run! Look, just come pick me up and I'll explain everything, okay?

~Vaughn starts giving directions to his location as we cut away once more.~


Always have your back-up strategies in hand when you are forced to improvise. It makes things so much easier.

Of course, to have a back-up strategy for me, you'd have to actually know me and what I can do inside the squared circle. From what I hear, Barnowl didn't even really care to find out the smallest bit of information about me, even AFTER I kicked his ass after my match with Mally. I mean, that's pretty dense, Billy, even from you. You didn't bother to look into my record, and how I've dominated everywhere I've gone in the wrestling world. You didn't take note of how I have yet to be pinned in Sin City, taking the fight to everyone who's stepped in front of me?

Gotta admit... I'm a little insulted.

I mean, I did the research on you, and I thought I gave you rather decent props for what you had done in your career. But now I'm wondering if you just lucked into those title reigns you've had. Maybe you weren't the real threat in this one, after all.

Boy, my optimism for this one has really been shot to pieces. First a God is forced to bail out due to injury, and now a bulldog appears to be neutered. Thank goodness for Malachi, I suppose.

Look, Burnheart, you've still got a few days. At least spend a few minutes looking through YouTube. You'll find some of my greatest moves there, clipped by fans of the sport. Maybe you can least get a SMALL sense of what you're getting into, because right now, you're in no shape to fight "The Mechanic". And I'm not referring to that gut you've got there, I'm talking about your mindset.

You can't just come into this thinking you're going to get handed your third Roulette Title. It doesn't work that way. You already showed you had no idea of how to dodge one of my favorite moves. How are you going to be able to stand against the Plunge?

The answer, of course, is you won't be standing, but if you had studied me, you'd know that.

I know we're going to be having to play things by ear in a Roulette Rules match. I know none of us have any clue what kind of hellish contest we're going to be put through. But as Ben Franklin said, "By failing to prepare, you're preparing to fail." Or something like that. I think it was Franklin. The kite guy, right?

Essentially, by not preparing for the parts of this match you DO know about, you stand no chance of surviving the parts you don't. And Bill, it would take me quite a while to list all the things you don't know about. You're looking fairly brain dead to me. Bummer.

Well, I'll see if I can jog some of those brain cells if given the chance. Smashing some steel into your forehead might do it. Sending you flying from the top of a cage might jostle them loose. Keeping you locked inside the zero-degree freezer while I walk out the champion, well, that probably won't help.

Do you guys do Below Zero matches here? It's something to look into, as long as you don't mind the loss of a finger or toe.

Whatever the type of match it ends up being, my experience will allow me to adjust to what's asked of me. I'll fly higher and strike harder than either of you two, as my ascent to my first championship here will be not be denied. I plan to be ready for anything and everything... will you?

First start preparing yourselves to take the Plunge... and go from there.


~We rejoin Vaughn on the side of the road, as he annoyedly checks his watch once again. He paces back and forth, clearly impatient. Suddenly, he hears a familiar truck horn and turns, smiling as he sees Gabriela driving towards him. The truck wavers slightly, causing Vaughn's smile to falter. He watches as the truck comes close to the curb, then inches away, then gets closer again as it closes in on him. Vaughn takes a reflexive step back as the truck finally comes to a stop next to him, almost hitting the curb. Thomas Hill puts down the window, smiling in relief at his half-brother.~

Thomas Hill: So you weren't lying! They did let you go! How'd you do it?

Peter Vaughn: Out.

Thomas Hill: Exactly, you're out, that's why I...

Peter Vaughn: Get out. Now.

~Vaughn stomps around to the driver's side, with Thomas finally opening the door and sliding out. Vaughn pushes him to go around to the passenger's seat, before getting back into the truck and patting the dashboard.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm sorry I put you through that, Gabriela. Trust me, I'll do my best not to let him drive ever again, okay?

~As trucks can't talk, there's no answer. Thomas gets in the other side, grumbling under his breath.~

Thomas Hill: You'd think I dented her or something...

~The truck pulls away, headed down the road, as Thomas clears his throat and looks over at his half-brother, who's now looking more relaxed.~

Thomas Hill: So?

Peter Vaughn: So, what?

Thomas Hill: Are you going to tell me what happened? How'd you get out? Was there any bloodshed? Is there going to be a manhunt for you? A man needs to know these things, Peter!

Peter Vaughn: Nah, you don't have to worry about it. Everything got... cleared up on the way to the station. Actually, in a strange sort of way, I have you to thank for it.

Thomas Hill: Oh, really? Now I'm really curious. What did I do?

Peter Vaughn: You remember that Apple watch you got me for Christmas?

Thomas Hill: ... The one that you refuse to wear, because you like the old-fashioned ones that don't have viewscreens attached to them? What about it?

~Vaughn grins, reaching over with one hand to tap the watch on his wrist. Getting a better look at it, we can definitely tell it's not as high-tech as Vaughn made it out to be. He presses the button on the side of it, once again causing the loud beep to sound out. Since we can see the screen, we can see that a timer has now started on the small digital display, one of the few additions to a watch of this type. Clearly, it's not something that would have recording capabilities.~

Peter Vaughn: Let's just say thinking about it allowed an idea to pop into my head...

~The grin gets a little larger, as Vaughn replays the fact of how he put one over on the gullible officers, who were too egotistical or nervous to really take a good look at Vaughn's watch. Looks like neither Martinez nor Phillips will ever make detective. The truck drives on down the road, as Vaughn heads back to the freedom of his ranch... prepared to once again make some plans on how to deal with one Judd Harrington, as well as a few cops on the take. We fade out.~


40
Supercard Archives / Approaching My Goals...
« on: April 29, 2023, 07:56:47 PM »
~Once again, we find ourselves returning to the quiet warehouse owned by Peter Vaughn. At least, everyone assumes he owns it. Wouldn't it be a trip if it turned out that Vaughn has been breaking into this warehouse for his own use this entire time? Wouldn't that be crazy? But for now, let's just stick with that he has the right to be here.~

~This time, the warehouse space looks to be remarkably empty, except for what appears to be a round object covered by a cloth in the middle of the room. The camera starts to focus on this cloaked item, expecting an activity from it, but instead, there's a loud, grinding noise to the left. The camera turns, showing one of the garage doors of the warehouse opening up, inch by inch. As it does so, a blinding light begins to flow through the widening crack, quickly overwhelming the camera's dimming abilities. Nonetheless, the cameraman stays focused, as the shot soon becomes one bright, squarish light. After a few seconds, a figure can be seen, stepping forward, although it's not easy to make him out. He walks through the light, into the warehouse, with both hands propped before him as if in prayer. As he gets a little closer, we can finally make out the details of one Peter Vaughn.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, again, my children. Hello again, Sin City. Namaste.

~Vaughn gives a slight bow towards the camera, then raises up, bringing both hands into the air. It appears like he's holding a relic of some kind, reverently displaying it in the air. He then slowly grips it with both hands... and presses the button. The remote control immediately turns off the halo-style spotlights behind him. It takes a moment, but the camera adjusts, allowing us to see Vaughn, and the spotlights, clearly for the first time. He smiles towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: You'll forgive the indulgence there, I trust? For some reason, I felt like making a... Godly entrance...

~Vaughn presses another button, and the garage door immediately closes again. Hopefully no one steals the spotlights from the alley outside.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, when I won my Roulette Rules match over Malachi on the last Climate Control, and put down the Bulldog as well, I was feeling pretty powerful. It seemed like my destiny was ready to go up in lights, earning me my first championship in SCW. And then the news broke: once again, I would be facing my ally in the Saviors, "Godly" Ken Davison, this time in a Fatal Fourway match along with the poor boyos I had already taken out.

~Vaughn shakes his head, even as he steps closer to the covered object in the center of the room.~

Peter Vaughn: Last time we fought, Kenny, it wasn't exactly a clean decision between us. You did have the better night... thanks to your having a better random tag-team partner. I mean, that's just my luck, isn't it? Excel as a singles competitor, never finding the right partner for the tag-team ranks. But I have to admit, your joining the match after falling in the tournament did get my interest. I thought, hey, this is going to be a competitive one, with an amazing chance that the Saviors would get the Roulette Title. I was quite fascinated by the possible fight. I looked forward to facing a God once again.

~Suddenly, Vaughn stops moving, and his shoulders seem to slump.~

Peter Vaughn: That's until I received word that the doctors had refused to clear Kenny for action. I guess even Gods get injured. So here's the deal, Kendrick. Once I win the Roulette Championship, and once you're finally fit for action, I'll offer you an opportunity whenever you want it. Because let's face it: SCW clearly wants us to fight, and they really want the last of the Saviors to fall. Maybe we can give them a Five-Star affair as we move forward into the light, eh?

~Vaughn takes a moment to recover, then smirks towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: And then... there were three. Myself, a five-time World Champion with incredible victories all across the world. The Bulldog, who's probably still a little delirious from the clubbing I gave him last show, but also the only man in this one to hold top-tier gold in SCW. And Malicky, the man who thought he could easily take down the Mechanic and found himself knocked cold. This isn't really set up to be a war. It's set up to be a slaughter. Of course, a lot of that depends on... the random factor.

~Vaughn reaches over, finally pulling off the cloth to reveal a custom-made Roulette table underneath. Vaughn pats the side of it, grinning, his own craftsmanship having gone into building this device. We can see that, much like SCW's version, there are numerous match possibilities set up.~

Peter Vaughn: I've gone back and watched numerous Roulette matches to begin to prepare for this one. I already know about the Staple Gun variation, and let me just say, that wasn't a pleasant experience, even if I DID get the victory. But there are so many other possibilities. For instance, last year's Into The Void match was fought under Submission rules.

~With a twist of the spinner, Submission is brought to the arrowed portion.~

Peter Vaughn: Some might think that would put me at a disadvantage, but I do have a few special moves I like to break out in a match like this. And hey, who doesn't enjoy making their opponent scream in agony and have to tell the referee that they submit to the pain? I'm sure I could surprise Mr. Maliki with my Calf Crusher, for instance. But what if, say, it becomes a Ladder match?

~The dial is once again turned, bringing up another match stipulation underneath.~

Peter Vaughn: That'd be in the realm of my specialty, high-flying, so you might as well give me the championship right now. Neither of the guys left will be able to move near as quickly as I could. I'd probably have the belt and be halfway to the back before Bully and Mally even realized the match was over. It'd be pretty funny to see their faces, really. But let's face it, the most likely destination for us is, well... something extreme.

~Vaughn points at several of the items left on the spinner, including "Hardcore Rules", "Falls Count Anywhere", and "Graveyard". He taps that one for a few seconds.~

Peter Vaughn: Odds are probably high that we'll be in a match with little to no rules. This Graveyard one, it was an interesting watch, seeing everyone try to toss their opponents into graves to win. And hey, who knows? It could come up again, and I'll be literally burying my competition.

~Chuckling to himself, Vaughn turns and smacks the spinner, sending it flying through all of the various categories. As it spins, Vaughn turns back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: The Roulette Rules certainly make this contest a lot more intriguing... but ultimately? The choice doesn't matter.

~With that, Vaughn hefts a sledgehammer out from behind the structure. As the spinner is starting to slow down, Vaughn lets loose, smashing straight into it! Pieces shatter in all directions, as Vaughn swings again and again, leaving a great deal of wreckage to clean up later. Finally satisfied, Vaughn turns back.~

Peter Vaughn: You see... the match stipulation doesn't matter. The competition in the match doesn't matter. The people who will be watching this with drool dripping down their chins? They don't matter, either. All that matters is that it's Peter Vaughn and it's a championship contest. No matter the rules, no matter who's in and who's out... I'm taking that championship home, adding it to my impressive collection. And there's nothing anyone out there will be able to do to stop me.

~With that, Vaughn tosses the sledgehammer into the pile of debris, before turning and walking off. The camera quickly scans the wreckage, seeing that what's left of the spinner is now pointing towards a unique stipulation: Armageddon. We slowly cut away.~


~As the shot comes back into view, we can hear the noise you usually associate with a large gathering of people in one room. The camera pans the large room, showing what almost looks like a courtroom, except it's been repurposed for a gathering area, as the judge's area has been switched to a long string of tables. Seated at the center of the tables is a familiar man to those who watched last week: David Schoeder finishes talking to the man next to him, and then turns forward, grabbing up a gavel and hammering it to get everyone's attention.~

David Schoeder: Alright, now, everyone settle down. Let's get this Union meeting back in order. Are we ready to continue?

~There are some mumbled agreements from the various men seated all around. There isn't a lot of excitement in a meeting like this, usually. Apparently, though, that's about to change, as Schoeder seems to take a long, deep breath before reaching for the paperwork in front of him.~

David Schoeder: As we're up to date on everything that's been happening, it's time to discuss some new business. While I know this has been spoken of before in smaller settings, I believe the time is right for us to bring this matter before everyone's attention. Yes, it's time to discuss the cattle application of one Peter Vaughn of the PMV Ranch...

~There are some shocked shouts from the crowd, as few were expecting this to be brought up. Some furious murmuring commences throughout the group, even as Schoeder again reaches for the gavel.~

David Schoeder: Settle down, people! This petition was brought to us months ago, and the submitter has been quite... persistent. As you all know, I'm a fair man, and I truly believe that everyone deserves their chance to be heard.

~As Schoeder talks, the screen splits for a few moments, showing on the bottom Schoeder's meeting with Vaughn the previous week... and how Vaughn revealed he knew Schoeder's most secret bank account. Vaughn used this information to blackmail Schoeder into what's happening today, while also promising that he could increase Schoeder's bank account if he follows through. It's hard to say if fear or greed was the larger motivating factor for Schoeder, but either way, it clearly worked.~

David Schoeder: As you all know, it will take a majority vote here today for Mr. Vaughn's cattle application to be approved, allowing him to raise livestock on his ranch. Mr. Vaughn is here today to speak to all of you.

~The door swings open on the left, with Peter Vaughn stepping out. He seems to have been given a lesson in what to wear, possibly from Schoeder himself, as the coveralls, for once, are not to be seen. Instead, Vaughn portrays the stereotypical image of what everyone believes a rancher should look like. Honestly, on Vaughn, it looks strange, as it's so different from how he normally dresses. But to the union members, it seems to generate a slight increase in respect, as he steps up to the mic.~

Peter Vaughn: Thank you for this time, Mr. Chairman. I'll try not to waste it. To those who don't know me, I am Peter Vaughn, and yes, I am a professional wrestler. But apart from that, I am also a man who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. Since I purchased the PMV Ranch last year, I have worked hard to rebuild the ranch to its former glory. I have made several renovations, not shying away from the hard work that all of you have likely grown up with all of your lives.

~Only those that know Vaughn would hear the slight sarcasm in that comment. Most of the 'fat cats' in here have lived their rich lives with other ranch hands doing the work for them, while they reaped the benefits.~

Peter Vaughn: I think I have proven that I am taking the life of a rancher seriously. I am willing to put in the long hours and make the PMV Ranch a truly profitable endeavor. Many of you, I've taken the time to speak with over the past few weeks, and I hope I've made my points clear to all of you.

~The camera shot switches to several individuals in the audience, some looking more uncomfortable than others. The split-screen once again reappears, this time showing Vaughn speaking to each one of them behind closed doors. One, he's clearly threatening, showing off a series of pictures that were taken of the union member in question. In another, Vaughn is shaking the hand of an older man, having made a deal for future teamwork between them in the future, increasing both of their profits while working to shut down a competitor. The third shot shows Vaughn walking out of an office, as the man behind him slumps to the floor, crying, holding some unknown paperwork. That man still looks green in the gills as he sits nervously in the union meeting. It's clear that Vaughn has, truly, been working hard for his goals, even if his methods aren't exactly role-model material.~

Peter Vaughn: I have every faith that all of you will see that I am ready to prove myself deserving of being in your space of existence. I may not have been born a rancher, but I got here as fast as I could, and being a true Texan at heart, I'm always ready to aim big. All I need is you to give me that opportunity. Thank you.

~Vaughn nods and steps away, to applause from the gathering. Some clap louder than others. Some, like Vaughn's main rival, Judd Harrison, refuse to raise their hands at all. Vaughn doesn't seem to care, as he heads back out the door he came. Schoeder hammers once again to quiet everyone down.~

David Schoeder: Now, we all know how this works. We can have discussions today about Mr. Vaughn's application, and then we will have our vote at the next meeting. For my part, I see Mr. Vaughn as a valuable addition to our ranks, as he is clearly a man who will not stop until he gets what he wants. I will be voting for accepting his application. Would anyone else like to speak?

~Everyone looks around, as few usually like to be the first one up to go against the Head of the Union. But that doesn't stop Judd Harrison, as he steps up and walks to the mic.~

Judd Harrison: As you all know, I'm basically neighbors with Mr. Vaughn's ranch. And you should hear all the crazy sounds that come from there! This man deems himself an 'inventor', creating a series of machines to take the place of true ranchers while he goes around the world punching people in their faces. Ever since he bought the old Six-Star ranch from Mark Pettigrew's widow, Vaughn has done nothing but become a mockery of our profession. I can't even believe we're discussing this right now, if I'm being honest.

~Harrison turns and glares back at Schoeder, who has the good sense to not look away, lest it reveal something about what's changed.~

Judd Harrison: It's an easy decision here, gentlemen. Turn this wrass-ler down and let's get back to doing business the right way!

~There is some cheers from the more vocal members of the Union, even as Harrison steps down. He looks surprised, though, at the individuals who didn't seem to cheer with them. One even gets up and takes his spot at the mic, beginning to give praise to Vaughn. This is the man we saw crying in his office earlier. Taking in a quick measurement of the room, Harrison excuses himself and steps outside. He gets on his cell phone, looking around in annoyance.~

Judd Harrison: Yeah, this is Judd. Look, I don't know what Vaughn's got on people, but I'm sensing some bad vibes from in there. We need to nip this in the bud before the vote takes place, and I think I know how. It's time to exploit Vaughn's own reputation against him. Here's what we're gonna do...

~Harrison turns away, quietly speaking into the phone, as we break away.~


Confucius was quoted as saying "The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones."

Did he actually say that? Who knows. But it's an apt analogy. When you set yourself up some nearly impossible goals for your future, you have to start moving step by step towards them. You need to chop away, swing by swing, until you reach what you're aiming for.

Besides, I like thinking of Malimar and the doggy as being small stones in my journey.

It's interesting to me that the press releases for Into The Void XII were referring to Mal as a "future champion". It's almost as if they're setting up the fans' hopes on him to take out the Saviors and finally achieve that destiny of his or something. The problem is, when you refer to someone as a "future champion", you expect them to make that climb. You see them as achieving greatness and moving on to a Hall of Fame career.

But Malachi has been here for THREE years.

Don't you think by now, if he was going to become a singles champion, he would have done it already? Has it just been bad luck? Bad timing? A combination of the two? Or is it possible... is it PROBABLE that Mally just isn't putting in the work necessary to rise up to those lofty expectations? I mean, I didn't see his 'potential' being achieved when we fought. Oh, sure, he got in some hits on me, especially with that damned staple gun. If anything he showed me that I need to practice with staples more.

I prefer the nail gun variety. More accurate, you understand.

But in the end, I easily reversed his terrible finisher and planted him in the ground with one of my better moves, the Keyholder. That said, it's not exactly my most dominant finisher, is it? I didn't give him the Plunge. I didn't get my Revenged. But I still put him down and out, getting that three count to dash the hopes of everyone in that audience that I would get pinned.

That has to be rattling around in that large skull of yours, Malk. You have to be thinking, "I had everything available to me. Every advantage. And he still beat me clean." Hell of a rough morale strike, isn't it, going into a contest like this? Now you not only have to defeat me, you have to find a way to survive the Bully Dog as well. The odds are truly not in your favor. Anyone who's betting on you to win is just hoping for that miracle long-shot.

Hey, maybe the Roulette wheel will make it a Wood-Chopping Contest or something. You never know. That'd be about the only way ol' Mally would have an opportunity to win... although I still think I'd beat him in the end.

I think I'll always beat him in the end.


~The video cuts back in, showing us at Chamberlain’s Steak & Chop House, one of the better steak houses in Dallas. Inside, seated at a table, Vaughn sits back in contentment, having just worked over a beautifully cooked New York Strip. He finishes the final bite, swallowing it down, as he looks over at his half-brother, Thomas Hill, who seems to just be pushing his fork around his plate at this point.~

Peter Vaughn: You doing okay there, Thomas? You've barely touched your... what the hell was that called again?

Thomas Hill: It's an almond crusted goat cheese salad with scallops added in.

~Vaughn can't hide his shudder, as it was completely involuntary.~

Peter Vaughn: Sometimes I really wonder if we're actually related, half-brother...

Thomas Hill: Normally it tastes great... it's just... I can't stop thinking about your appeal to the cattle union...

Peter Vaughn: What about it? I told you, it went well. They listened to me, and I'm cautiously optimistic about our chances.

Thomas Hill: Yeah... but that's part of the problem. They listened to you.

Peter Vaughn: Wait, that's a problem now? I thought you'd see it as good news.

~Hill is quiet for a moment, still picking at his salad, before finally saying the question that's been on his mind.~

Thomas Hill: Did you do anything... illegal... in order to get them to listen to you, Peter?

~A normal individual would probably have feigned shock and outrage at being called out. Vaughn, though, isn't your normal anything. He simply shrugs, taking a drink from his beer before answering.~

Peter Vaughn: I wouldn't say illegal. I'm sure it'd be frowned upon by some people... but it's part of the business. If anything, Harrison has taught me that much.

Thomas Hill: Peter... if I'm going to be a part of this... I need things to be legitimate. I know you're used to skirting the edges of the rules in the wrestling business, but we're in a whole different world now. You've already stirred up the hornet's nest. I really don't want to be the one who gets stung.

Peter Vaughn: Seriously, you're worried about that? You should know by now that I'll have everything handled. Nothing's going to go wrong, trust me. The head of the union, Schoeder? He and I have an understanding, and I'm sure he's going to come through for us. And if something happens there, I've got several other irons in the fire. We are going to succeed, Thomas. You think I'd be here eating this expensive meal if I thought we were going to fail?

Thomas Hill: Hard to say. You never said who's paying for this.

~Vaughn genuinely laughs, a sound you don't hear too often from the man. His half-brother is one of the few people who can actually seem to reach him, bringing out some of his old emotions before the 'treatment' that changed his life forever. Vaughn nods, taking out his wallet.~

Peter Vaughn: Don't worry, I won't stick you with the bill. I've got the winnings from Malachi ready to be spent, and I can't think of any better way to use it than to spend it like a champion would. Of course, if you'd get around to getting me that company credit card for the ranch, we could use that...

Thomas Hill: I already told you, Peter, the bank turned us down. They seem to think that giving a card like that to a ranch would be a risky business decision for them.

~Vaughn grumbles, finishing his beer before standing up and putting some cash on the table.~

Peter Vaughn: Once I'm done with the union, I'll work on that particular problem as well. And I always find solutions, Thomas. Now let's get out of here. Do you need a box for... uh, that?

~Vaughn gestures at the half-eaten salad, but Thomas just shakes his head and gets up as well.~

Thomas Hill: It's not worth saving. Let's just go home.

~Looking relieved that he doesn't have to get that monstrosity boxed up, Vaughn nods, and the two men head out of the restaurant. They look around on the street, spotting where Vaughn parked his prized truck, Gabriela, and start heading that way.~

Thomas Hill: I just hope all this political nonsense doesn't distract you from your big match at Into The Void.

Peter Vaughn: Nah, this won't interfere with that at all. Just like the union, I've got several plans ready in order to take that championship. Believe me, half-brother... I'm ready for just about anything.

~As the two men reach the truck, a siren is suddenly heard. A police vehicle parks right behind the truck, with the two officers getting out, brandishing their weapons.~

Police Officer: Peter Vaughn! Stay right where you are with your hands visible at all times!

~Hill, immediately raising his hands, turns towards his half-brother, who looks legitimately shocked.~

Thomas Hill: You were saying?

~Vaughn can only shrug his shoulders, even as he raises his hands as well, having no idea what's going on.~


Okay, so even I can't be prepared for everything. But then, the same is true of my opponents.

Just look at Heartburn, who played at being a referee last show. He wasn't expecting to get so 'involved' in the conflict, was he? He sure wasn't expecting me to give him a dose of the Keyholder afterwards. I could tell by his shocked expression... just before he hit the mat and stopped seeing anything for a while.

I will admit, that was a little petty of me. I can't complain about how the referee'ing went in the match, after all. But I couldn't help myself, Bullfrog. You left yourself so wide open... and I hate to miss an opportunity to teach a lesson. I wonder, did you learn anything from it? Or will you be just as vulnerable in the future?

I guess only time will tell.

The oddsmakers would say you're the biggest threat left, Billy, now that we've lost a God. But you know what? I'm really not that scared of a Georgia Bulldog. Give him a Doberman or a Pitbull any day, and they'd shred that bulldog to pieces. They're slow, they're usually overweight, and you can tell when they're near the end of their rope. Just like you, Billy Boy.

Let's face it, you've had a good run here, maybe not an exceptional one, but a good one nonetheless. But you're not padding your stats with another victory at Into The Void, no sir. Kenny may be gone, but the Mechanic's still going to be there to make your life worse than a squashed Georgia peach. I've already proven that I can take you down. Now I just have to show the world that I can take you out.

Really, the best option you and Mally might have is to try and work together against me. I'm cocky, but not stupid. It'd be an uphill battle, fighting both of you at once in a Handicap match. But then again, you can't share that Roulette Title, can you? So it'd just be a matter of time before Malic's greed got the best of him and he waited for you to turn your back... as you're known to do.

So I wouldn't trust him, Bill. I wouldn't trust him at all. But hey, that's just me. Take whatever chances you think you need to in order to have a chance at winning.

Maybe it won't even be as bad as a staple shot to the groin this time. Or maybe we'll find a way to make it worse.

Once I've planted you in the ground and you've taken the Plunge, Billy, I'll have beaten three former champions here in SCW, and I'll be firmly established as one of the great Roulette Champs of all time. I will hold that belt with pride and dignity, defending it against everyone who deserves a shot.

And let's be fair, I'll probably defend it against undeserving doofuses, too, because that's just the way the wrestling business works.

Either way, Billy, Mally, you're going to find yourselves out of the running. Mal will once again have to live with just being a "future champion", and Bill will have nothing left but to look back on his glory days and wonder where it all went.

While me? I'm going to continue building my ladder of accomplishments, making my way up to the top of SCW step by step, inch by inch. I'm not getting stopped by you two boyos, and I'm not getting stopped by anyone else. The gold will be flowing, and the Saviors will be taking over all of the top spots.

Ready yourselves, kids. The war is just about to begin. See you then.


~As Hill and Vaughn keep their hands in the air, the two officers approach them. We can already see people watching from the sides, getting out their phones to record everything. That's what we do now in society, hoping for something good for TMZ.~

Peter Vaughn: So... something I can help you with, fellas? Did I miss a parking ticket or something? I thought I had everything paid off.

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent, Vaughn. I recommend you use it. Turn around. You're under arrest.

~The officer turns Vaughn around forcibly, grabbing his arm. Vaughn's eyes flash, as if he's about to react in his normal fashion. But Thomas, seeing what might happen, quickly steps in.~

Thomas Hill: Officer, please! There's no need for that. He'll go along... quietly. Won't you, Peter?

~Vaughn glances over at Thomas, who has a pleading look on his face. Vaughn sighs, then seems to relax slightly as the handcuffs are put on.~

Thomas Hill: Now, if I can ask, what's the charge? Is this because of something to do with wrestling?

~As the second officer steps in, working to take Vaughn over to the police vehicle, the first one gives Thomas a cynical grin.~

Police Officer: The charge? That's easy. Vaughn here is under arrest for assault and bribery. He's also coming in due to his involvement in the death of one Mark Pettigrew.

Thomas Hill: Wait... Pettigrew? The guy who used to own the ranch? Peter didn't even know him before he died! This makes no sense! Peter? What's going on??

~Hill looks upset, as if he's not completely sure about his half-brother's capacity for violence. He looks over for reassurance as Vaughn is loaded into the car. Vaughn just looks back, not looking too concerned.~

Peter Vaughn: You know where the spare keys are kept, Thomas. Keep Gabriela safe, okay?

~All Thomas can do is weakly nod, even as the officers get into the car and pull out, driving away. The police vehicle stops at the next stop sign, spending a slightly longer amount of time than needed to sit there. As Vaughn looks out the passenger window, he can see the man in the truck nearby. Judd Harrison gives him a sly grin and tips his hat, having been there to witness it all. Vaughn glares at him as the police car moves on, leaving Harrison behind to bask in his triumph. We fade out.~


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