~The camera shot once again comes up on the warehouse that we saw last time. Instead of featuring shadowy cut-outs, however, this time it seems to be built slightly differently, with a large stage constructed in the middle of the room. Coming up the stairs onto it is Peter Vaughn, dressed in his usual coveralls, as he stops in position near the center of the stage. He looks around at the apparently empty warehouse, then looks forward again at the camera.~
Peter Vaughn: Hello again, Sin City.
~Vaughn gives the camera a small smirk, before straightening back up and clasping his hands in front of him.~
Peter Vaughn: Recently, I made my debut in your fine company, making an impact in your last Pay-Per-View's main event. I've got to say, I don't feel like it really made the impact I expected it would. But it did lead me to be booked against Miles Kasey for my first contest. It went exactly as I thought it would, as I floored that poor guy and got my first victory here. And yet, once again... I didn't feel like there was an expression of excitement from the fans. I felt like nobody was celebrating my victory. So... I suppose I'll just have to do it myself, eh?
~With that, Vaughn raises his fingers, snapping them in the air. All of the sudden, from loud speakers, we hear the beginning of "This Time It's Different", blaring out from the sides of the warehouse. Pyro, hidden until now, starts to erupt around the stage. Confetti cannon explode in front of it, showering everything with its colorful pieces of paper. A dancing squad, likely hired from one of the dance academies in Dallas, begins moving in front of the stage, doing high kicks as Vaughn stands, seemingly enjoying every minute. Crowd noise is even pumped in, with cheers for The Mechanic. It's an absolutely crazy scene, one that almost feels like it came out of nowhere. After a few more seconds of enjoyment, Vaughn slices his hand across his throat, and the music and crowd noise immediately stops. The dancers walk off, the pyro stops, the confetti settles on the ground. It's all quiet once again.~
Peter Vaughn: There, that was enjoyable, wasn't it?
~Vaughn nods, as if agreeing with himself, although it's always impossible to tell if he's enjoying something or not. There's always something in the eyes that doesn't look quite right. Those eyes glance left and right, staring at all the confetti strewn across the warehouse.~
Peter Vaughn: Of course, it IS quite messy to do it yourself, isn't it? Good thing I still have connections within... 'the business'.
~For a second time, Vaughn snaps his fingers. This time, we see around a dozen custodians come out of the darkness on either side, pushing brooms in front of them. They work extremely professionally, making sure not to miss a corner as they begin to work on removing all of the confetti and other bits of trash added to the mix.~
Peter Vaughn: They'll take care of everything, don't worry about it. So, celebration over. Milo is now in the past. It's time to concentrate on the future, which is one Mr. Jack Washington. I got to see him in person that night when I made my debut. Too bad he wasn't in position to take advantage of my actions, huh? Well, we'll see if Mr. Washington is, in fact, a bigger name, one that will resonate more with the Sin City fans if and when I walk out with another victory at the Pay-Per-View.
~The custodians are doing an amazing job, really, considering what they've got to take care of in such a limited amount of time. Already, most of the confetti has been swept away, with the workers converging on the small amount that's left. Vaughn looks out at them with a definite sense of pride, knowing he hired the right men & women for the job tonight.~
Peter Vaughn: And if beating Washington doesn't get the crowd riled up? I can always have another self-high-five celebration right here next month... or I can start getting more serious about forcing them to take me seriously with title shots in the future. We'll see, won't we?
~With that, Vaughn turns and walks back off the empty stage. There is no confetti left. There is no sign of the dancers from earlier. Even the custodians have disappeared somehow. The lights go out, and the shot fades away.~
~After a short break, we return with a shot of the Texas landscape. It is a beautiful sight, with the sun rising in the east, showering the scene with light. The camera moves, showing it's a drone, as it follows what appears to be a person riding their horse across the prairie. The drone closes in, as we view the rider expertly leading the horse forward in its gallops, taking it towards a large ranch house set up in the middle of a large plantation. As the drone readjusts to the side, we can see a rather stunning beauty getting off the horse and quickly tying it to the post outside. She takes off her hat for a moment, wiping the sweat from her brow, before heading to the front door, which appears to have been left open.~
Sadie Anderson: Hello? Mr. Vaughn? Mr. Hill?
~She walks inside, setting her hat to the side since she's of the old-school belief that you don't wear your cowboy hats indoors. Hearing the sound of digital music, Sadie heads to the side, walking through a narrow passage to get to the kitchen. Sitting at the table, his back facing away from us, is Peter Vaughn's half-brother, Thomas Hill. He has his laptop open in front of him, and appears to be playing some sort of retro spaceship simulator. He's intent on landing the shots on the enemies flittering around his target screen, so he doesn't notice Sadie's entrance.~
Thomas Hill: C'mon, you squirrelly son of a...
Sadie Anderson: Mr. Hill?
~Thomas jumps, shocked at the sudden voice nearby. He quickly hits a side button, which switches the screen from a simulator to an Excel spreadsheet. Thomas then turns around, trying to compose himself as he sees Sadie standing behind him, fighting to hide a laugh.~
Thomas Hill: Oh, Sadie! Hi! I'm sorry, I was busy with the quarterly figures of the ranch, and I, uh, didn't hear you come in...
Sadie Anderson: Uh huh. So did you get the high score yet?
Thomas Hill: ... Not yet. Some kid in Tulsa has set the benchmark pretty damn high.
Sadie Anderson: Too bad. I guess, keep trying, as long as your brother doesn't catch you. He's paying you now, right?
Thomas Hill: Yes, well... you can't, y'know, do business ALL of the time, right? He'd understand that... right?
~Sadie doesn't say anything, even as Thomas shakes his head, answering his own question.~
Thomas Hill: Just don't tell him, okay?
Sadie Anderson: No reason I would. Is he here this morning? I've got some news I need to pass onto him.
Thomas Hill: Last I saw him, he was in the gym downstairs.
Sadie Anderson: *Sigh* Alright, thanks.
~Sadie pats Thomas on the shoulder, getting a grin from him, as he's always had a bit of a crush on her. Sadly, it's never been reciprocated. Sadie heads down the hall, as Thomas presses the button, getting back to his game. Unfortunately, the pause was at the worst moment, as the ship headed straight towards him opens fire...~
Thomas Hill: Awww, damn it...
~Thomas restarts, as we head down the hall with Sadie. She moves to a closet doorway, opening it up... to reveal a ladder that appears to go both up and down. Sadie shakes her head again.~
Sadie Anderson: Strangest ranch house I've ever seen.
~She starts down the ladder, heading into the basement structure underneath. While the house looks fairly normal on the outside, Sadie knows that many special access points have been built into the home, at Vaughn's specific instructions. Nobody knows exactly what he was thinking, putting together such a special job, but with the money he had at the time, there was no questioning him. After reaching the bottom of the ladder, Sadie moves through another doorway, this one looking almost like a shelf, before coming out into the high-tech gym that Vaughn had built for his wrestling training. There's a small ring set up in the distance, while all around, there are some of the best equipment currently available on the market to strengthen oneself. Strangely, though, there doesn't appear to be a Peter Vaughn, as the large room is seemingly empty. Sadie walks forward, looking around in confusion.~
Sadie Anderson: Hello? Excuse me, Mr. Vaughn? Are you here?
~Sadie, puzzled, rubs at her hair before turning to leave. That's when Vaughn lowers down from the ceiling, upside-down, suspended in front of her.~
Peter Vaughn: I've told you before, Sadie, it's Pet...
~With a quick scream, Sadie immediately goes into fight-or-flight mode, and with her, it usually lands on "Fight". She swings, slamming a shot right into Vaughn's upper chest, knocking him backwards. His legs come off from the high bars he was hanging on, but Vaughn corrects on the way down, landing on his feet before dropping to a knee, rubbing his chest.~
Peter Vaughn: *cough cough* Wow... nice one.
Sadie Anderson: Oh my god! I'm so sorry! What were you DOING up there??
~Vaughn gets to his feet, as Sadie comes next to him, mortified. Vaughn, though, doesn't seem bothered.~
Peter Vaughn: Just doing some gravity sit-ups. I didn't mean to startle you. I have to say, that was a great right hand. Maybe we ought to start talking about training you up for the wrestling business?
Sadie Anderson: Oh, no, that's not for me. Give me riding a horse to riding a turnbuckle any day of the week.
Peter Vaughn: You don't know what you're missing. So what brings you down here? I miss another meeting?
~Vaughn steps to the side, grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from his forehead and chest. While Vaughn is not a muscle-bound stud like many wrestlers, he does have a surprising physique that he keeps hidden under his coveralls. He'd have to, to be order to pull off the moves he can in the squared circle. Sadie seems to be admiring him for a moment from behind, before shaking it off. After all, Vaughn has never shown any interest in anyone romantically, at least not in her time around him. She clears her throat, looking away.~
Sadie Anderson: Yes sir, I wanted to tell you about an... incident this morning. Unfortunately, we lost two ranch hands from our roster. Duke and Mitch both turned in their resignations to me, asking me to deliver them to you.
~Sadie pulls out some paper from her pocket, unfolding it, but Vaughn makes no motion to reach for it.~
Peter Vaughn: Both of them, huh? That makes four in the last week. Did they say where they're going?
Sadie Anderson: Unfortunately... they got offered larger work contracts... with Judd Harrison.
~Vaughn's eyes narrow, recognizing the name. He remembers Harrison all right. He's the man who has taken control of the local ranching consortium around these parts. He's also the main reason that Vaughn has been unable to add cattle to his ranch, blocking him at every turn. Now, apparently, his activities have moved more towards taking talent away from the PMV Ranch, showing that he would still like to see them go under. Vaughn comes out of his thoughts, shaking his head, before grabbing a shirt and flipping it on.~
Peter Vaughn: First things first: what were Duke and Mitch supposed to work on today?
Sadie Anderson: Duke was on food production for the livestock. Mitch was set to go out and repair a fence that got blown over last week.
Peter Vaughn: Okay, then. No problem, we can take care of that easily. Let's go.
~Vaughn turns and leaves the gym, with Sadie quickly following behind as we cut away.~
Sometimes it does seem that the only way you can take care of business is by doing it yourself.
I did that at Climate Control by crushing poor Milo's hope and dreams of using me as a springboard back to the top. But now, I find myself facing someone in a similar vein. Poor Jack Washington, a two-time former SCW Heavyweight Champion during the Pandemic years. It's got to hurt, winning that gold twice, and then spending the next year struggling at every turn to be able to reclaim it. This last time, you fell again, with Mac Bane claiming the championship. Even worse, it was Mac's fourth time to become champ, doubling what you've been able to do.
Hey, by the way, did I mention that I beat Mac Bane for a championship last year?
Now, of course, Jackie, you'd be ready to point out that you DID become a champion in 2022, claiming that oh-so-prestigious Internet Championship from Ken Davison. Hey, props to you, you took down a Savior to get that gold. Most impressive. Unfortunately, you then stumbled badly to Goth, losing the title and basically getting your ass whopped, didn't you?
By the way, did I mention I beat Goth in a tournament recently?
But, hey, Jackolyn, you've stuck around and kept fighting, and I can appreciate that. You haven't walked away from the business that was starting to get away from you. You kept demanding match after match, and now you've pretty much been randomly placed against me in an epic contest at Blaze of Glory XI. I'm sure every faithful SCW fan out there is already expecting you to walk out with the victory, due to your history of success here.
I mean, I'm sure they were thinking the same thing for Milo, but I could be mistaken.
Really, Jack, this could be a make-or-break confrontation for you. Can you step up your game for a one-on-one contest with one of the best wrestlers in the world right now? Can you motivate yourself past all your recent missteps and find a way to bring the A game that made you a champion against The Mechanic on Pay-Per-View? Or are you going to come in weak, picturing an easy victory versus a former 'janitor' who hasn't managed to impress you yet?
Nah, I'm sure you'll take me as seriously as you can. Even if that's not full power. But, y'know, anything less than max output is probably going to lead to certain failure. Because I'm coming for you, Jackie Walla-Walla-Washington. I'm coming full steam ahead, because rattling your brain and cracking your skull appears to be the best way to make SCW management take me more seriously.
And I do aim to make a big impression.
~The shot comes back with a view of a pig's snout, right near the camera. It snorts loudly, before the pig moves away, as the camera raises up to show us the pig pen in front. While it was never in Vaughn's mind to raise pigs on his ranch, it became a necessity to get something going when he was blocked from the cattle trade. Money has to come in somehow. Bring him the bacon, as they say. The camera moves past the pigs to the nearby trough, where we see a large mechanism positioned above it. The camera follows it back to what appears to be a modified ice machine. Vaughn walks up to it, popping open the door and pouring a few ingredients inside. He then shuts the door and pushes a few buttons, and the mechanism begins to rumble. The pigs, having heard it before, move closer to the troughs, as Sadie catches up.~
Sadie Anderson: This is still one of the craziest things I've ever seen, Mr. Va... I mean, Peter.
Peter Vaughn: What's so crazy about it? Somebody left this beautiful machine at a junk yard. I couldn't let it just sit there, unused, when it could be retooled for another purpose. Just look at how well the washing mechanics I added stirs up the food... and then delivers it...
~After a few more seconds of rumbling, the sound of the machine changes, as the newly-condensed 'slop' makes its way down the chute and pours into the troughs. The pigs immediately begin shoving each other aside to get at the food, unknowingly fattening themselves up ever greater every day. Only the lucky ones will get to breed. Vaughn nods at the contraption, patting it on the side, before heading over to the chicken coop, where another machine is sitting there.~
Sadie Anderson: And this thing... wouldn't it just be easier to step into the fence and sprinkle out the seed for them? I know that's what Duke usually did...
Peter Vaughn: Easier? I suppose. But why not do it with flair?
~Vaughn picks up a container of seed and pours it into the top of the machine, which we can now see is a modified tennis ball shooter. Within seconds, seed begins flying out of the nozzle, spraying all around the chicken coop. Chickens who get hit by the seed squawk and cluck in the machine's direction, before turning and beginning to eat. Vaughn, meanwhile, turns back to Sadie, shrugging his shoulders.~
Peter Vaughn: Why did we need Duke again, anyway? Seems like I've made it so easy, anyone could do it.
Sadie Anderson: Well, let's just say that your.... untraditional methods have affected some of our workers. Many of us are old-school, after all, wanting to do things the way our fathers and grandfathers did them. There's tradition there, you know?
Peter Vaughn: I mean... I understand respecting tradition and how it was done in the past... but at the same time, they used to drive horse-drawn buggies and could only listen to the radio. Things change... you can only rely on history for so long.
~With that, Vaughn turns and kicks on a nozzle from a newly-created plumbing drainage system. Within a few seconds, water begins pouring out for both the chickens and pigs, using the construction that Vaughn helped put in at the beginning of the year. He smiles, shutting off the nozzle once the bins are filled, before turning and walking off again, with Sadie right behind.~
Peter Vaughn: I've got a new toy I've been wanting to play with that should mend that fence back together in no time. Once that's done... how about we pay the Four H ranch a visit?
Sadie Anderson: ... Wait, what?
~Vaughn keeps walking, so Sadie hurries to catch up, suddenly concerned for her boss' decision-making process. After all, it has already turned a little towards violence in the past...~
I know that those who ignore history are likely doomed to repeat it.
I can't avoid the fact that you've had a lot of success here, Jack-o. Some people just find themselves more comfortable when they're sitting in their home territory, determined to make it big there. Sure, nobody knows the name Jack Washington outside of Sin City, but you've made it pretty famous right here, and you should be proud.
Hell, maybe people know you outside of Sin City, I don't know. The only time I heard about you was when the Saviors were smacking you around.
The difference here, of course, is that I'm more willing to put myself out there wherever I go. I like to jump around and test the waters, taking on the top competition wherever I go. And you know what, Jacques? I tend to come out on the winning side more often than not. I went to the XWF and won the Universal & Supercontinental Titles there. I went to Pro Wrestling Valor and took down their biggest tournament, the Roth Invitational, to win their World Title. I've squashed everyone in Thunder Pro and I've dominated the WGWF since it came back.
Everywhere I go, I make an impact. Do you really think it's going to be any differently against you?
You call yourself an all-around athlete, but can you pull off the high-flying moves that I can nail you with? Can you avoid the crippling constrictions I can perform with submission holds? Can you dodge in time when I'm coming at you full-speed with a kick to the jaw?
I mean, you might be better at power maneuvers, I'll give you that. They've never been my forte. But everywhere else, I think I've got the advantage.
History may say that you're a hell of a big-time performer when it comes to the big matches. Using that history, I won't be underestimating you. But at the same time, boyo, you make sure and take note of MY history, and all that I'm bringing to the table.
Or else you might be doomed to take the same path that Milo did, and wouldn't that just be embarrassing for you, repeating his mistakes?
~We rejoin Vaughn and Sadie as they're on their way down the road in Vaughn's treasured truck, Gabriela, recently repaired and running smoother than ever. As we always say, don't ask us why it's called Gabriela: nobody but Vaughn knows. The truck makes a right turn, leaving the highway, and pulling into what appears to be the entrance to the Four H ranch, one of the bigger ranches in Northeast Texas. As the truck gets closer to the main homestead, Sadie turns to Vaughn, apparently continuing an argument that's been going on for miles.~
Sadie Anderson: I just don't want you to do anything rash, that's all, Peter.
Peter Vaughn: Oh, c'mon, when have I ever done anything rash?
Sadie Anderson: Do you want the list in alphabetical order or in terms of biggest effects?
~Vaughn can't help but laugh for a second, before shaking his head. They're almost to the house now, where a 'welcoming party' appears to have been alerted about them.~
Peter Vaughn: You don't need to worry, Sadie. I'm not planning on murdering the guy.
Sadie Anderson: That's good to know.
Peter Vaughn: It's broad daylight, after all...
~Sadie immediately glances over at Vaughn, trying to discern if he's joking or not. He keeps his face expressionless.~
Peter Vaughn: Besides... I've got a plan.
Sadie Anderson: Oh, God...
~The truck comes to a stop, with Vaughn hopping out almost immediately. He walks over, with Sadie staying behind him, as Judd Harrison and his crew step closer. A couple, knowing Vaughn's reputation, are standing in the back with shotguns, but Judd is all smiles as he reaches out, giving Vaughn a large Texas handshake.~
Judd Harrison: As I live and breathe, Peter Vaughn, back here for a visit. To what do I owe this surprise, Vaughn?
Peter Vaughn: Good to see you, Judd. I see that diet you've been working on hasn't quite taken effect yet.
~One of the hands tenses up, but Judd just laughs, patting his ample belly.~
Judd Harrison: It's tough, keeping yourself away from steaks when you're a cattleman! Oh, I'm sorry, you don't know that feeling, do you?
Peter Vaughn: Not yet. But I'll get there eventually. So, shall we get down to business?
Judd Harrison: Why, I'm all ears, Vaughn. You here about Duke & Mitch? I was as surprised as you were that they wanted to come work for me, but what am I supposed to do, say no to them? They deserve a good salary, same as every cowboy out there. Ah'm sorry if that's left you short-handed... literally as well as figuratively.
~There are some chuckles behind Harrison, but both men ignore them. Vaughn even puts on a 'pleasant' smile of a sort.~
Peter Vaughn: Oh, yes, they certainly do, Harrison. But no, I'm not here about them. I'm here to take away your best man, actually. Jacobs, isn't it?
~Vaughn points behind Harrison at a well-built younger man, who starts, seemingly surprised that Vaughn knows his name. Harrison looks back at him, confused, then laughs.~
Judd Harrison: You think Jacobs there is going to come work for you? After all I've given him? I've heard you were a little off your rocker, but son, that's breaking the whole chair at that point...
~Vaughn, ignoring Harrison, steps around him, pulling out what appears to be a contract from his back pocket. He waves it in front of Jacobs, still smiling.~
Peter Vaughn: So, Jacobs, I'll make this simple enough. You sign this contract and agree to leave the Four H ranch now and forevermore, I'll pay you 500... K...
~A few gasps come out from the gathered crowd at that announcement, with Jacobs' eyes going wide. He reaches out, taking the contract, stunned, as almost everyone there thinks about what they could do with that kind of money. Harrison, sensing the shift in tone, immediately steps towards Jacobs.~
Judd Harrison: Now, wait a minute here, Jacobs. You know I gave you everything to be here. You should be loyal to me, damn it!
Jacobs: I... I know, sir... but... with $500,000... I could finally open my own ranch...
Judd Harrison: What do you need a ranch for? You're working here, at the best one! It's all a hassle being in charge, believe you me. Besides, Vaughn here probably doesn't have that kind of money to throw away, anyways. I don't care HOW well he's done in wrasslin'!
~Both men look over at Vaughn, who shrugs.~
Peter Vaughn: You sign the contract, and it's official.
~Jacobs looks between Vaughn and Harrison several times, licking his lips. He then reaches out towards Harrison with one arm... and pulls a pen from inside Harrison's suit. Harrison glares as Jacobs signs the contract, watching him hand it back to Vaughn.~
Judd Harrison: You turncoat traitor! I'll see that you never work in this business again!
Jacobs: I don't need your support now, Mr. Harrison. I don't have to put up with your laziness or temper tantrums about 'your' ranch anymore, either. I'm rich!
Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean... in some people's eyes, you will be, I suppose. But a deal's a deal...
~Vaughn has pulled out his wallet, shifting through it. Everyone turns and looks at him as he pulls out one hundred dollar bill after another, before handing the stack to Jacobs. He takes it, extremely confused.~
Jacobs: What's this? A down payment?
Peter Vaughn: You know, one lesson I always tell people in my business is to always read the contract before you sign it. See, you heard what you wanted to hear. The thing is... what I said was, if you agree to leave, I'll pay you $500... okay?
~Jacobs' mouth gapes open for some time before finally closing, as he brings up the contract, checking to see that it, indeed, says $500, not $500,000. There is one or two laughs from behind, but nobody makes eye contact with either Jacobs or Harrison, who is still fuming. Jacobs, getting over the shock, turns and flings the money into Vaughn's face, scattering it around.~
Jacobs: Keep your damn money, you tricky bastard!
Peter Vaughn: Hey, if that's the way you want it...
*Vaughn leans over, quickly picking the money up and pocketing it once again.~
Peter Vaughn: I guess that means the contract is breached already, huh? Of course, maybe not, as Juddy there doesn't seem too pleased with the disloyalty he's just seen, does he?
~After a moment, Jacobs turns to Harrison, realizing the mistake he's just made.~
Jacobs: Umm... look... Mr. Harrison... I didn't mean...
Judd Harrison: Duke! Mitch! Make yourselves useful and get this deadbeat off of my property!
Jacobs: No, wait! Mr. Harrison!
~Jacob's arms go out, but Duke & Mitch are there, pulling him towards the parking lot. Both look over at Vaughn, who gives them a wave.~
Peter Vaughn: Hi, boys. Having fun yet over here?
~The two men have the graciousness to look ashamed before moving off, working to get an increasing irate Jacobs back to his truck. Harrison angrily shakes his head, before turning back to the still-smiling Vaughn.~
Judd Harrison: I take it you're happy with this?
Peter Vaughn: Let's see. I did what I said I was going to do, so... yes. Yes, I'm pretty happy with it. I'll see you around... Judd.
~Vaughn turns, going back to Gabriela. Harrison spits on the ground, in their direction, before turning and storming off. Sadie, shaking her head in wonder at Vaughn's ability to make enemies, gets into the truck with them, and they take off. As the vehicle drives away, we see Jacobs watching them go, fuming, as he stands next to his own vehicle.~
Jacobs: You son of a bitch... I'll get you for this... I'll get you!!
~Jacobs angrily lashes out, smashing his fist into his driver's side window and cracking it. He stares at the cracks, breathing heavily, as we slowly fade out.~
What can I say? I have a history of getting my way.
Sometimes it involves wrestling my opponent into the ground, until he or she can't take it anymore and they're forced to give up. Sometimes it involves using whatever rules they put in my way, bending them just right so they work for me, instead of against me. Sometimes it ends up being a steel chair to the face of my opponent.
Whatever works, right?
I don't really see that happening with us, Jackie boy, since I don't really hate you or anything. Maybe that'll change the closer we get to the match. Maybe I'll find a way to have some animosity with you. Right now, though? I really just see you as a means to an end, and nothing more.
Don't get me wrong. I'm looking forward to beating the hell out of you, because that, too, works towards the end result I'm looking for. I mean, you DO have a name in Sin City that'll make you a decent addition to my List of the Vanquished. But as for righteous fury or indignation? Well, I'm not there... yet.
Guess we'll see what happens, right, boyo? In the end, though, whether I hate your bloody guts or not, it's not going to make a difference. You're going to feel the taste of vengeance, and you're going to take the Plunge... and I'll be moving my way past you, taking your slot on the way towards the top titles of this company.
See you there.