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Supercard Archives / DESPAYRE (c) v TRAVIS NATHANIEL ANDREWS
« on: November 18, 2016, 09:47:01 PM »
Las Vegas
It was almost time. In a mere matter of days, a score was to be settled in front of thousands in Los Angeles, California at the final Sin City Wrestling Supercard of 2016, High Stakes VI. One of many scores to be sure, but for the time being, only one in particular mattered. Not to be selfish or egocentric, mind you, but you are reading this promo for the time being, so this is the one that counts. This particular encounter? The current reigning and defending two-time SCW Internet Champion Despayre puts his championship gold on the line against the latest challenger, and to listen to him, the 'perfect' challenger, Travis Nathaniel Andrews.
We all know how this whole ordeal came into being. We saw Despayre put away challenger after challenger, first Matt Spears, and then Samuel Devereux, all the while as Mister TNA watched on. If you would have heard Mister TNA tell the story, he was working on finding Despayre the perfect challenger, when we all know the simple truth; he was biding him time, watching from a distance and waiting to strike when it most suited him. Then that very moment presented itself when an altogether too trusting Despayre met Travis out in the ring to find out who would be his next challenger for High Stakes VI, and Mister TNA struck.
It was why we found ourselves at the Thomas & Bigler Knee & Shoulder Institute in Las Vegas. Under most circumstances, the Superstars and Bombshells would arrive days early for a Supercard, the champions perhaps even a week. But given the fact Despayre's knee had been the recipient of a steel chair attack, Synn had put off leaving for LA until absolutely necessary. Given the green light, surprisingly enough, by "Hot Stuff" Mark Ward, Synn had kept Despayre in their hometown of the famed "City of Sin," promising to make it up to the boss and the fans not only at the event itself, but afterwards when Despayre retained his championship.
Yes, retaining. Because there was no doubt at all that this would be the only end result of the Internet Championship encounter.
"Okay Joshua," Dr. Gregory T. Bigler said as he stood at the forefront of the table on which Despayre had been seated in the examination room. "I am going to hold down your leg in this bent position. You work against my grip to try to extend your leg, alright?"
Doctor Bigler was a board certified orthopaedic surgeon, fellowship trained in sports medicine and arthroscopy. One of the best in Las Vegas according to Synn, and the sole reason why Despayre was here. When the injury had happened, Synn would accept nothing but the best in treatment for his son. As a matter of fact, Bigler was the very same in whom Gabriel had been brought to in times past to treat his own wrestling-related injuries.
And speaking of Synn, the man himself stood against the far wall of the examination room, arms folded and watching everything that happened before him. Despayre had begged his father not to leave him alone with 'the Mad Scientist' as the childish Despayre had coined him, having no love for any doctor of any sort. Not that Synn would have in the first place. Despayre looked up from where the Doctor had addressed him, and to his father who gave him a slight nod of encouragement.
"Go on Joshua." Synn said, but added, "But try not to kick him this time."
"Yes, that would be appreciated." The Doctor smiled, remembering too easily Despayre's reflexive action the first time he had been brought in for his physical therapy. It was just a good thing that the doctor retained decent reflexes, despite his age.
Biting his lower lip, Despayre did as instructed. He worked to straighten his injured leg, as Doctor Bigler held against his leg above the knee with one hand, and his shin with the other. Despayre frowned as he worked at this. He normally would have had no trouble with this, possessing athletic leg strength despite his small frame, but with the injury to his knee, it proved a more formidable task, given the pain that he was still in. He winced, and a gasp of pain escaped his lips before he could catch on and prevent it, but it was not lost on either his father or the doctor.
Synn leaned his head forward, "Joshua? Are you alright?"
To this, Despayre only nodded silently. The doctor asked, "Still experiencing a bit of pain, then?" And to this, there was another silent nod of the head.
"On a scale of one to ten, how bad would you say?" The doctor asked, and Despayre paused a moment to think. His knee did still hurt, and he might have felt the desire or need to simply say ten, but he knew that would have been a slight exaggeration. He wanted his dad to be proud of him for toughing it out, but he also knew his dad would want him to be honest with the doctor.
Despayre shrugged and said in a light whisper of a voice, "About a seven?"
Doctor Bigler nodded. "Still above average then." He stated. "But still an improvement from where you were first brought in." The doctor stood upright and turned around to address Synn, his patient's primary care taker. "I think it's safe for him to not use the crutches he was prescribed, any longer. If the pain starts getting worse, then by all means, put him back on them. But for now, it might help speed things along if he were to start putting some more weight on that knee."
"Do I have to?" Despayre frowned in a faux sense of dismay. "Theresa's been giving me extra desserts every day since I started using them."
"Just add an extra limp when you come into dinner tonight." Synn mused in good humor toward his son. "I'm certain it'll still net you an extra slice of pie."
Despayre considered this for a moment and then nodded. "I can do that."
Doctor Bigler smiled at the exchange he was witnessing between father and son and then asked Synn, "And you say there is no way that this match can be postponed until his knee is fully healed?"
"Unfortunately not." Synn answered. "I already addressed this topic with the heads of the company, and the contracts had been signed. Quite a bit of money and publicity had already been invested in this show, so they want it to go on as scheduled."
Doctor Bigler nodded, "Well, it wouldn't be the first time on of my patients had toughed it out to continue on with their work, despite my obvious objections." He turned his head and gifted his patient with a wink, one which brought the first smile to Despayre's lips since he had set foot in the office this day. He nodded and turned back to Synn. "Still, that knee has to be protected. He'll have to wear an athletic knee brace and keep it taped up."
Synn observed, "That is going to make his knee an obvious target for his opponent."
"It sounds as if his knee was already going to be a target for his opponent." Doctor Bigler countered. "At least with the brace and bandages, it'll be protected."
"Thank you." Synn finally said and straightened up to help Despayre fit his brace back over his knee. Doctor Bigler, under most circumstances, would have been the one to perform this task for one of his patients, but Despayre had the issue of being touched, and it was the doctor attempting this during his first visit that resulted in the aforementioned kick mentioned earlier.
While the doctor finished signing the paperwork, Despayre winced again as the brace was fit rightly over the bandages wrapped around his knee, and Synn looked up, "Are you alright?" To which his son nodded. Synn smirked, "Think some Panda Express will make you feel better?"
"Yes!" Despayre's face lit up with the brightest smile of the day. Panda Express always made things better, especially when shared with his dad and Angel!
Angel? Well of course Angel was there! Would it be a Despy promo if Angel wasn't hanging around somewhere? Despayre fidgeted as Synn finished with the brace, securing it with the Velcro straps, and as the lad turned his head, he found that teddy bear on the exam room counter in his bite-sized doctor outfit, beside a jar of tongue depressors.
Despayre rolled his eyes, "Will you please STOP sticking your nose in Doctor Bigler's supplies? He knows what he's doing!"
"Thank you, Joshua." The doctor smiled, knowing from past experiences the delicate 'relationship' his patient had with this teddy bear, even from a visit along with Gabriel in years past. Doctor Bigler continued, "I'm sure he's just making sure I don't over charge your father."
As Synn helped his son off of the exam table and Despayre gingerly set foot back down onto the floor, he looked at the doctor and said, "No. He was trying to figure out who ate all the ice cream off of those ice cream sticks."
The Los Angeles International Airport, known traditionally by its IATA airport code LAX, was the largest and busiest airport in the state of California, and one of the largest international airports in the entirety of the United States. As such, the traffic inside was indeed heavy, with passengers of all ages waiting both to board their respective flights as they were emerging from the hangars and making their ways to either connecting flights, or to the baggage reclaim to meet their loved ones.
Or, if you happen to be one of the SCW Superstars or Bombshells arriving from different parts of the country, you happen to be arriving in LA for a weekend of hard hitting wrestling action. Such as what we see as the passengers from the United Airlines flight out of Las Vegas begin arriving to retrieve their luggage, and the familiar faces of the remaining members of the Seven Deadly Sins, sans Rage and Shipman, arrive; namely Synn himself, the Internet Champion Despayre, Gabriel along with his wife Odette, and founding yet inactive members, Sxxxy Shane Boswell and Fantasia.
One of the perks of having a bum knee in a brace? Oh? There is one you wonder? Well take a look for yourself, as a happy-go-lucky Despayre finds himself riding on the luggage rack, piled high with their suitcases, with his knee stretched out and Angel perched on his lap while a good natured Shane pulls the cart along behind him. With the other members of his 'family' following close behind, a smiling Despayre smiled and waved as if he were in a parade at the airport patrons and personnel who were watching with expressions of humor and perplexed disbelief.
"OWW!"
"Joshua!" Synn called out from where he was standing against the ring apron at the training facility in Los Angeles, being used by some of the SCW stars, male and female alike, to better prepare themselves for their upcoming matches. "I told you before that you have to not attempt to use a dropkick!"
Just a scant few seconds ago, Despayre had indeed made the attempt as he was working inside of the ring with the aid of his best friend and 'big brother' Gabriel. And the attempt at even this simple aerial maneuver was met with disaster as the brace on his knee prevented Despayre from launching himself as high as he might normally had been able to do so, and the ill-timed maneuver caused him to miss Gabriel completely and crash hard on the mat face and chest first.
His knee also had struck the mat and it was only the padding of the brace and the wrapped bandages that kept Despayre from doing himself further harm. It did not keep him, however, from curling his leg as close to him as he was able and clutching it in discomfort.
"You okay Despy?" Gabriel hurried up to offer his 'little brother' some assistance. It was a rare thing for Synn and Gabriel to put Despayre into a sparring match of any kind, especially against one of their own. But given Despayre's injury, Synn did not want to take any further risks with his son's health with a sparring partner he was unfamiliar with.
Plus, there was always the chance that Travis Nathaniel Andrews would attempt something even worse in his low brow tactics and somehow implant a shooter into the session, thus further injuring Despayre's knee beyond repair.
"I'm okay." Despayre frowned, practically brow beating himself over the missed connection. Gabriel tucked his hands under Despayre's arms and helped to lift him up off of the mat. "But you didn't hafta move and let me fall!"
Oh yeah. That was a reason why he fell too.
"I'm sorry Despy." Gabriel smiled as he helped him hop over to the ropes where he rested against them, keeping his sore leg pulled up and off of the canvas of the ring. "Old habits and all, y'know?"
"It's not your fault, Gabriel." Synn stated as he stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. He walked over to where the pair stood and placed a gentle hand on Despayre's shoulder and said, "I explained to you before, Joshua. So long as you have that brace on your knee, you're not going to be able to do very many of your flashier maneuvers. At least until your knee regains its flexibility."
"A dropkick isn't very flashy." Despayre stated matter-of-factly. "Anyone can do a dropkick."
Synn conceded the point, "Granted, but my point remains the same. Your leaping abilities are going to be hindered until that brace comes off. So no dropkicks or any of your riskier maneuvers."
"What about that booty bop moonsault?" Despayre smiled hopefully. Gabriel smirked, trying to refrain from laughing and thus possibly hurt his Despy's feelings. He recalled watching backstage the first time Despayre stood over a fallen opponent and did that little booty bop dance move into a standing moonsault. He ended up paying for a new monitor because he had spewed his drink all over it in an uproarious fit of laughter at Despayre's antics.
In answer to his son's question, Synn said, "Best not to risk it, otherwise you risk breaking your neck as well as your leg."
Despayre's hopeful outlook fled his face and his shoulders slumped as his pop continued, "he top rope is off limits for you, young man."
Gabriel looked up from his disgruntled buddy and spoke, "That is going to severely limit his options against Travis, Synn."
"I know." Synn nodded as his son looked up between him and Gabriel as they discussed his options. Synn continued, "But if there is anything that I know my son is good at..." He gripped Despayre's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, prompting Despayre to look up into his green eyes, father to son. "... Its that my boy knows how to adapt to any situation inside of the ring."
Despayre smiled, and maybe his chest did puff out just a little bit at the words of praise from the most important man in his life.
The La Brea Tarpits
What? Not the location you were perhaps expecting? Understandable. Even Synn and Gabriel were surprised that Despayre had chosen this tourist attraction to visit as opposed to something that seemed more 'Despy-like,' such as the Santa Monica Pier and all of its amusement park attractions. Of course, the Sins haven't left Los Angeles quite yet. There was always a chance that after High Stakes VI, they would pay it a visit -- and if Despayre took a shine to the idea, chances are that they would.
What Despy wants and all...
But for now, it was the La Brea Tarpits that had attracted Despayre's interests the most, wanting to see the famed pools of natural asphalt had seeped up through the ground for thousands of years. Ancient species of animals had been discovered in these pools, having tragically sunk beneath the surface millions of years ago, many of which were now on display at museums around the world. Poor little animals, Despayre would have said. And animals that were not so little.
"Phew! It stinks here!" Despayre scrunched up his face and wrinkling his nose as the group stood on the small bridge at the railing, looking out over one of the larger tar pits covered with green moss and fauna. His distaste for the odors not withstanding, it did not prevent him from picking up the camera that hung from around his neck and take a hurried snapshot of a bubble in the tar pool -- a simple bubble that emerged from the still surface and deflated.
Despayre cast a glance over his shoulder at Fantasia and said, "Personally I was hoping for an earth shattering kaboom."
Fantasia smiled, but she had to agree with the little guy. The smells around this National Monument Park were rather unsavory. She patted his back and moved on further down the bridge where Shane stood while Synn and Gabriel stood just a foot away from Despayre, allowing him to observe the pools at his leisure.
Oh, and Angel? He was safely tucked snugly against Despayre's chest in that baby harness that Rage (ptew, ptew) had bought for just such emergencies a few years ago. He couldn't risk Angel's curios nature getting him into a sticky situation now could he?
"You know what causes the smell, don't you?"
The voice beside him caused Despayre to start and he turned around quickly to stare at an older woman standing close by, but not too close so as to invade his personal space. Despayre simply stared at her, his discomfort for strangers starting to flare up but he said nothing, which the woman obviously took as an invitation to continue her ":education" toward this young stranger. A know-it-all tourist perhaps? Or maybe she worked at the nearby museum on the site.
Either way, she took a step closer to him and looked out over the railing and continued to talk, "The smell is actually caused by the methane the tar pits give off. Its not unlike a freshly paved road on a hot summer day, you know what I mean?"
Despayre simply nodded, but that was perhaps the wrong thing to do for the polite but intimidated young man as this just caused the woman to continue yakking away, while he himself turned his head away and rolled his eyes, desperately wishing his dad and Gabriel would come rescue him from this woman's incessant chatter. He came to look at the cool tar pools and maybe visit the museum, not listen to a lecture from a complete stranger. Even when they went to museums, they always went on their own without a tour guide talking over them the entire time.
"If you only knew the full amount of animal species that have been discovered in these pools." She said with a proud smile. "If you only knew the full amount of animals that are still buried somewhere deep in them to this day."
"Do you know?" Despayre half mumbled, his elbow on the rail and his cheek in the palm of his hand. He had meant it to be a sarcastic comment but she had obviously taken it as a question of interest.
"Of course not." She answered. "Nobody does."
Again, Despayre rolled his eyes and his fingers started to drum the rail. He glanced down at the teddy bear against his chest and mouthed silently 'I know!' as she went on.
"Most of the pools that you see now are the result of human excavations throughout the past century. Even to this day, heavy rains have been known to cause the natural oils of the pools to ooze toward the homes and businesses that are around here. There have been many complaints but really, what can you do?" She smiled. She did not see Despayre give her the ol' side eye and curl his upper lip in a comical snarl.
She went on, "Did you know that once when the city was digging underground to build an underground parking garage, they discovered a near-complete adult Columbian mammoth? Or how when the fossilized remains of the animals that lost their lives to the tar pits were discovered, the asphalt turns their bones to a dark brown or black? As a matter of fact, I learned..."
The woman turned her head and saw Despayre with an expression on his face that either spoke highly of boredom, or sleep deprivation. She tilted her head to the side and said, "Oh dear, I do tend to run on. I am sorry if I bored you, dear. Tell me; how are you enjoying the Tar Pits?"
Despayre turned to her with his best misty eyed, wobbly bottom lip look and said in a choked voice, "Angel lost his father in a tar pit." (He dabbed away the "dry" tears and said, "Excuse me!" Before he hurried away to Gabriel and Synn....
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Messterpiece Theater
w/Joshua Kooky
As the classical theme song played in the background, the opening shot is that of a book's spine where inscribed in gold lettering was "Messterpiece Theater". It rolled over and faded to a close up shot of a tabletop, fine oak and a silver bowl filled with Skittles. Fade to a large tome, an original edition of "Lord of the Rings", open wide on a pedestal and a purple sash draped down the center as a place saver. The camera pans to the right of the book to a bust of He-Man of the "Masters of the Universe" franchise. Moving aside from that, a silver tray piled high with unwrapped Twinkies and Ding Dongs. Moving further up the elegant table was a framed photograph of a teddy bear (two guesses as to who!) and just behind that, in a gold leaf frame, a picture of Queen Elizabeth herself. The camera panned over to a small row of books, personal favorites such as "The Picture of Dorian Grey" and "The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes."
The camera panned across a large display case, where rested several championship belts with golden emblems, such as the AWA International, AWA World Tag Team, NWA World Tag Team, SCW World Tag Team, and SCW Internet. Also in the case was an elaborate trophy for the Blast From the Past Memorial.
A bookcase was set on the far wall, and there, seated in an old English chair before it ands in front of a window looking out across the night skyline, was our host. Clad in a purple smoking robe and Grumpy Cat slippers. A bubble pipe in his hand and a crystal goblet of Cherry Coke on the table at his left. With an open book on his lap, he looked up to the camera and smiled.
"Hello friends, and welcome to the very first edition of Messterpiece Theater. I am your host, Joshua Kooky."
He blew a small stream of bubbles that caught the lamplight from the pipe and pulled it from his lips. He waggled his eyebrows to continue.
"I come to you this fine evening to tell you a sorrowful tale of woe. A story about a man that has been consumed by greed and desperation. A man that is so desperate for approval that he takes to his side the first available call girl with fake red hair that he could afford. I bring to you this evening, 'the Tragic Tale of TNA.'"
"It does sound rather fancy, does it not? The name of this woeful star that tragedy is destined to intervene against. One might think when one is known simply by initials, that great things are in store for you. Sadly, this was not to be the case for this poor individual. For you see, since he arrived in the City of Sin, the man known as Mister TNA had lived under the delusional belief that great things were in store for him. In school he was a part of the cool kid's circle, and at home his mother would always strive to make him believe and understand just how cool and good looking he was. After all, if your mom says your cool, then it simply must be true! And after school, everywhere he went, Mister TNA went on believing that everything should be handed to him on a silver platter, simply because that was the way things had always been."
"Mister TNA, or as his friends would come to know him as, Travis, was never told no. And for the record, his mom paid for his friends to play with him. True story! He was the one who grew up with his nose never having been bloodied, so he had a privileged mindset instilled in him. Never was anything denied him, until he came to Sin City."
"You see, Mister TNA -- Travis -- was a bully. A star deprived man who wanted fame and fortune, and he sought all in the rough and tumble world of professional wrestling. He looked for it in Sin City. Even before he met his first opponent, he fell into gold fever and demanded title opportunities rather than earn them as his peers did. After all, he was Muster TNA! Why should he have to earn anything when it should be handed to him? And time after time, he was indeed granted championship opportunities at many champions over the course of his time, but each and every time, the chance to emerge victorious and wear gold around his waist slipped through his fingers."
"And by slipping through his fingers, I mean he choked."
Joshua Kooky looked into the camera for a close up and smiled.
"One might say that Travis was the Susan Lucci of the wrestling world."
Joshua turned back to a long shot at the camera and kicked an ankle up over a knee.
"It was almost as if young Travis believed that his opposition should simply lay down and allow him to win, without having to work for it or bother with any effort, but he was disappointed time and again. Whether it be for the World Championship, the Internet Championship or the Roulette Championship of Sin City, he was unable to wrest it from the grasp of whomever held it at the time. Multiple chances were given, as were multiple defeats at the hands of his opponents."
"Then, in an act of desperation, Travis sunk to an all time low by forcing yet another championship opportunity to be handed to him by attacking a young champion, adored by the public and who wanted nothing more than to go out into the wrestling ring each night and simply have fun. Travis knew that in the wrestling world, attacking a champion practically guaranteed a championship match, and this time was no different."
"Yet he did not allow it to end there, oh no. Travis knew his opponent was superior to him in every way, from looks and ring skill, to a charming manly mashismo that attracted the babes in all corners of the world. So to gain the much needed edge in his cheaply won title shot, he furthered his assault on the poor champion by injuring his knee."
Joshua looked into the camera and shook his head sadly, clucking his tongue.
"Tsk tsk, young Travis. Tsk tsk."
Joshua turned to the front camera, and slowly closed the book on his lap.
"Only the root problem remained, can even such an edge as the injury bestowed upon the champion, result in the much sought after win for Travis? Unfortunately, it was not to be. You see, even with just the one good leg, the champion was still an altogether better athlete than Mister TNA could ever hope to be. Plus, there was plotting between friends to even the score, and level the playing field against Travis, should the chance present itself. Crowbars are not, after all, the easiest thing to find in an arena's backstage, now are they? Yet I digress."
"Travis thought that by taking away the champion's aerial offense, he would become a simple matter to put down and defeat, but oh how wrong that assumption would prove to be. As hard as Travis would fight to defeat the champion, that very injury inflicted upon him would make the champion fight even harder. Not just to emerge the winner and retain his championship, but also to deny Travis his much desired championship -- again. Call it being fickle if you must, but deep down this one has become rooted in one of the coldest areas of human actions; revenge. And what better revenge on the champion's part, than to beat Mister TNA a second time, and add insult to injury by doing it despite the injury Travis inflicted."
"Travis is something of a tragedy, wouldn't you say? One almost would feel bad for him were he not such an arrogant douche nozzle. And speaking of douche nozzles, that would bring us to the other factor in this story; the fact that miraculously, Travis has himself a girlfriend. A girlfriend he paid for by the hour, but a girlfriend all the same. Travis has used her time and again, and not in the naughty late night HBO movie kind of way. (He's not capable you know!) He used her with her skimpy outfits and high pitched banshee wails to distract opponents time and again, and even at times cost an opponent what could have been a win. Would the dastardly pair make this attempt again against our valiant and heroic champion at what would prove to be High Stakes? Should he, Mister TNA and Miss Ruby Roadkill, would do well to remember that the champion too has friends, and one such friend would be at his side during this epic encounter. A friend both lovely and beyond compare, and one who would show no fear in fighting to protect and defend her absolute favorite from the claws of the she-beast."
Joshua clasped his hands on his lap and kicked his foot over his knee and sent his slipper flying. His head whipped in the direction it flew, then he slowly turned back to the camera with a smile.
"Sorry. Not to you, my viewers, but to the poor, sad figure known in our story as Mister TNA. Try as he might, success is simply not fated to fall into his lap. The championship he has demanded since the very beginning of his story will not be his when the night is over. The champion, whether with one leg or two, is simply better than he ever could be, or ever will be. Actions such as the ones he performs tend to come back and haunt an individual you know."
Joshua nodded knowingly.
"It would be a funny little thing called Karma. Travis shall reap what he sowed, and this champion he sought to take advantage of? He would be all too happy to do to Travis what Travis did to him. An eye for an eye, some stories tell. And at the end of our story, we come to realize that in Mister TNA's sake, not all stories are meant to have happy endings."
Joshua then uncrossed his legs and sat back in his chair, reaching over to carefully pick up the glass of Cherry Coke.
"In case you might be wondering, this was what one would call the shoot portion of a promo. So many others can stand there and talk about their match and repeat themselves over and over about what they are going to do. But it takes an insightful and imaginative mind..."
He tapped his temple and winced.
"Ow! I really need to trim my nails! I mean ... such as I have, to get the message across to the closed minds of the opposition in a meaningful and artsy sort of way."
He gave the camera a goofy smile and waved his bubble pipe in a meaningful way.
"So join me, won't you? For the epic tragedy of Mister TNA. And I thank you, one and all, for sitting with me here tonight for the first ever episode of Messterpiece Theater."
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As the theme music played once again, the camera slowly pulled out as Joshua, eyes closed, swirled his Cherry Coke around in the goblet and savored the aroma as the scene faded.
It was almost time. In a mere matter of days, a score was to be settled in front of thousands in Los Angeles, California at the final Sin City Wrestling Supercard of 2016, High Stakes VI. One of many scores to be sure, but for the time being, only one in particular mattered. Not to be selfish or egocentric, mind you, but you are reading this promo for the time being, so this is the one that counts. This particular encounter? The current reigning and defending two-time SCW Internet Champion Despayre puts his championship gold on the line against the latest challenger, and to listen to him, the 'perfect' challenger, Travis Nathaniel Andrews.
We all know how this whole ordeal came into being. We saw Despayre put away challenger after challenger, first Matt Spears, and then Samuel Devereux, all the while as Mister TNA watched on. If you would have heard Mister TNA tell the story, he was working on finding Despayre the perfect challenger, when we all know the simple truth; he was biding him time, watching from a distance and waiting to strike when it most suited him. Then that very moment presented itself when an altogether too trusting Despayre met Travis out in the ring to find out who would be his next challenger for High Stakes VI, and Mister TNA struck.
It was why we found ourselves at the Thomas & Bigler Knee & Shoulder Institute in Las Vegas. Under most circumstances, the Superstars and Bombshells would arrive days early for a Supercard, the champions perhaps even a week. But given the fact Despayre's knee had been the recipient of a steel chair attack, Synn had put off leaving for LA until absolutely necessary. Given the green light, surprisingly enough, by "Hot Stuff" Mark Ward, Synn had kept Despayre in their hometown of the famed "City of Sin," promising to make it up to the boss and the fans not only at the event itself, but afterwards when Despayre retained his championship.
Yes, retaining. Because there was no doubt at all that this would be the only end result of the Internet Championship encounter.
"Okay Joshua," Dr. Gregory T. Bigler said as he stood at the forefront of the table on which Despayre had been seated in the examination room. "I am going to hold down your leg in this bent position. You work against my grip to try to extend your leg, alright?"
Doctor Bigler was a board certified orthopaedic surgeon, fellowship trained in sports medicine and arthroscopy. One of the best in Las Vegas according to Synn, and the sole reason why Despayre was here. When the injury had happened, Synn would accept nothing but the best in treatment for his son. As a matter of fact, Bigler was the very same in whom Gabriel had been brought to in times past to treat his own wrestling-related injuries.
And speaking of Synn, the man himself stood against the far wall of the examination room, arms folded and watching everything that happened before him. Despayre had begged his father not to leave him alone with 'the Mad Scientist' as the childish Despayre had coined him, having no love for any doctor of any sort. Not that Synn would have in the first place. Despayre looked up from where the Doctor had addressed him, and to his father who gave him a slight nod of encouragement.
"Go on Joshua." Synn said, but added, "But try not to kick him this time."
"Yes, that would be appreciated." The Doctor smiled, remembering too easily Despayre's reflexive action the first time he had been brought in for his physical therapy. It was just a good thing that the doctor retained decent reflexes, despite his age.
Biting his lower lip, Despayre did as instructed. He worked to straighten his injured leg, as Doctor Bigler held against his leg above the knee with one hand, and his shin with the other. Despayre frowned as he worked at this. He normally would have had no trouble with this, possessing athletic leg strength despite his small frame, but with the injury to his knee, it proved a more formidable task, given the pain that he was still in. He winced, and a gasp of pain escaped his lips before he could catch on and prevent it, but it was not lost on either his father or the doctor.
Synn leaned his head forward, "Joshua? Are you alright?"
To this, Despayre only nodded silently. The doctor asked, "Still experiencing a bit of pain, then?" And to this, there was another silent nod of the head.
"On a scale of one to ten, how bad would you say?" The doctor asked, and Despayre paused a moment to think. His knee did still hurt, and he might have felt the desire or need to simply say ten, but he knew that would have been a slight exaggeration. He wanted his dad to be proud of him for toughing it out, but he also knew his dad would want him to be honest with the doctor.
Despayre shrugged and said in a light whisper of a voice, "About a seven?"
Doctor Bigler nodded. "Still above average then." He stated. "But still an improvement from where you were first brought in." The doctor stood upright and turned around to address Synn, his patient's primary care taker. "I think it's safe for him to not use the crutches he was prescribed, any longer. If the pain starts getting worse, then by all means, put him back on them. But for now, it might help speed things along if he were to start putting some more weight on that knee."
"Do I have to?" Despayre frowned in a faux sense of dismay. "Theresa's been giving me extra desserts every day since I started using them."
"Just add an extra limp when you come into dinner tonight." Synn mused in good humor toward his son. "I'm certain it'll still net you an extra slice of pie."
Despayre considered this for a moment and then nodded. "I can do that."
Doctor Bigler smiled at the exchange he was witnessing between father and son and then asked Synn, "And you say there is no way that this match can be postponed until his knee is fully healed?"
"Unfortunately not." Synn answered. "I already addressed this topic with the heads of the company, and the contracts had been signed. Quite a bit of money and publicity had already been invested in this show, so they want it to go on as scheduled."
Doctor Bigler nodded, "Well, it wouldn't be the first time on of my patients had toughed it out to continue on with their work, despite my obvious objections." He turned his head and gifted his patient with a wink, one which brought the first smile to Despayre's lips since he had set foot in the office this day. He nodded and turned back to Synn. "Still, that knee has to be protected. He'll have to wear an athletic knee brace and keep it taped up."
Synn observed, "That is going to make his knee an obvious target for his opponent."
"It sounds as if his knee was already going to be a target for his opponent." Doctor Bigler countered. "At least with the brace and bandages, it'll be protected."
"Thank you." Synn finally said and straightened up to help Despayre fit his brace back over his knee. Doctor Bigler, under most circumstances, would have been the one to perform this task for one of his patients, but Despayre had the issue of being touched, and it was the doctor attempting this during his first visit that resulted in the aforementioned kick mentioned earlier.
While the doctor finished signing the paperwork, Despayre winced again as the brace was fit rightly over the bandages wrapped around his knee, and Synn looked up, "Are you alright?" To which his son nodded. Synn smirked, "Think some Panda Express will make you feel better?"
"Yes!" Despayre's face lit up with the brightest smile of the day. Panda Express always made things better, especially when shared with his dad and Angel!
Angel? Well of course Angel was there! Would it be a Despy promo if Angel wasn't hanging around somewhere? Despayre fidgeted as Synn finished with the brace, securing it with the Velcro straps, and as the lad turned his head, he found that teddy bear on the exam room counter in his bite-sized doctor outfit, beside a jar of tongue depressors.
Despayre rolled his eyes, "Will you please STOP sticking your nose in Doctor Bigler's supplies? He knows what he's doing!"
"Thank you, Joshua." The doctor smiled, knowing from past experiences the delicate 'relationship' his patient had with this teddy bear, even from a visit along with Gabriel in years past. Doctor Bigler continued, "I'm sure he's just making sure I don't over charge your father."
As Synn helped his son off of the exam table and Despayre gingerly set foot back down onto the floor, he looked at the doctor and said, "No. He was trying to figure out who ate all the ice cream off of those ice cream sticks."
The Los Angeles International Airport, known traditionally by its IATA airport code LAX, was the largest and busiest airport in the state of California, and one of the largest international airports in the entirety of the United States. As such, the traffic inside was indeed heavy, with passengers of all ages waiting both to board their respective flights as they were emerging from the hangars and making their ways to either connecting flights, or to the baggage reclaim to meet their loved ones.
Or, if you happen to be one of the SCW Superstars or Bombshells arriving from different parts of the country, you happen to be arriving in LA for a weekend of hard hitting wrestling action. Such as what we see as the passengers from the United Airlines flight out of Las Vegas begin arriving to retrieve their luggage, and the familiar faces of the remaining members of the Seven Deadly Sins, sans Rage and Shipman, arrive; namely Synn himself, the Internet Champion Despayre, Gabriel along with his wife Odette, and founding yet inactive members, Sxxxy Shane Boswell and Fantasia.
One of the perks of having a bum knee in a brace? Oh? There is one you wonder? Well take a look for yourself, as a happy-go-lucky Despayre finds himself riding on the luggage rack, piled high with their suitcases, with his knee stretched out and Angel perched on his lap while a good natured Shane pulls the cart along behind him. With the other members of his 'family' following close behind, a smiling Despayre smiled and waved as if he were in a parade at the airport patrons and personnel who were watching with expressions of humor and perplexed disbelief.
"OWW!"
"Joshua!" Synn called out from where he was standing against the ring apron at the training facility in Los Angeles, being used by some of the SCW stars, male and female alike, to better prepare themselves for their upcoming matches. "I told you before that you have to not attempt to use a dropkick!"
Just a scant few seconds ago, Despayre had indeed made the attempt as he was working inside of the ring with the aid of his best friend and 'big brother' Gabriel. And the attempt at even this simple aerial maneuver was met with disaster as the brace on his knee prevented Despayre from launching himself as high as he might normally had been able to do so, and the ill-timed maneuver caused him to miss Gabriel completely and crash hard on the mat face and chest first.
His knee also had struck the mat and it was only the padding of the brace and the wrapped bandages that kept Despayre from doing himself further harm. It did not keep him, however, from curling his leg as close to him as he was able and clutching it in discomfort.
"You okay Despy?" Gabriel hurried up to offer his 'little brother' some assistance. It was a rare thing for Synn and Gabriel to put Despayre into a sparring match of any kind, especially against one of their own. But given Despayre's injury, Synn did not want to take any further risks with his son's health with a sparring partner he was unfamiliar with.
Plus, there was always the chance that Travis Nathaniel Andrews would attempt something even worse in his low brow tactics and somehow implant a shooter into the session, thus further injuring Despayre's knee beyond repair.
"I'm okay." Despayre frowned, practically brow beating himself over the missed connection. Gabriel tucked his hands under Despayre's arms and helped to lift him up off of the mat. "But you didn't hafta move and let me fall!"
Oh yeah. That was a reason why he fell too.
"I'm sorry Despy." Gabriel smiled as he helped him hop over to the ropes where he rested against them, keeping his sore leg pulled up and off of the canvas of the ring. "Old habits and all, y'know?"
"It's not your fault, Gabriel." Synn stated as he stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. He walked over to where the pair stood and placed a gentle hand on Despayre's shoulder and said, "I explained to you before, Joshua. So long as you have that brace on your knee, you're not going to be able to do very many of your flashier maneuvers. At least until your knee regains its flexibility."
"A dropkick isn't very flashy." Despayre stated matter-of-factly. "Anyone can do a dropkick."
Synn conceded the point, "Granted, but my point remains the same. Your leaping abilities are going to be hindered until that brace comes off. So no dropkicks or any of your riskier maneuvers."
"What about that booty bop moonsault?" Despayre smiled hopefully. Gabriel smirked, trying to refrain from laughing and thus possibly hurt his Despy's feelings. He recalled watching backstage the first time Despayre stood over a fallen opponent and did that little booty bop dance move into a standing moonsault. He ended up paying for a new monitor because he had spewed his drink all over it in an uproarious fit of laughter at Despayre's antics.
In answer to his son's question, Synn said, "Best not to risk it, otherwise you risk breaking your neck as well as your leg."
Despayre's hopeful outlook fled his face and his shoulders slumped as his pop continued, "he top rope is off limits for you, young man."
Gabriel looked up from his disgruntled buddy and spoke, "That is going to severely limit his options against Travis, Synn."
"I know." Synn nodded as his son looked up between him and Gabriel as they discussed his options. Synn continued, "But if there is anything that I know my son is good at..." He gripped Despayre's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, prompting Despayre to look up into his green eyes, father to son. "... Its that my boy knows how to adapt to any situation inside of the ring."
Despayre smiled, and maybe his chest did puff out just a little bit at the words of praise from the most important man in his life.
The La Brea Tarpits
What? Not the location you were perhaps expecting? Understandable. Even Synn and Gabriel were surprised that Despayre had chosen this tourist attraction to visit as opposed to something that seemed more 'Despy-like,' such as the Santa Monica Pier and all of its amusement park attractions. Of course, the Sins haven't left Los Angeles quite yet. There was always a chance that after High Stakes VI, they would pay it a visit -- and if Despayre took a shine to the idea, chances are that they would.
What Despy wants and all...
But for now, it was the La Brea Tarpits that had attracted Despayre's interests the most, wanting to see the famed pools of natural asphalt had seeped up through the ground for thousands of years. Ancient species of animals had been discovered in these pools, having tragically sunk beneath the surface millions of years ago, many of which were now on display at museums around the world. Poor little animals, Despayre would have said. And animals that were not so little.
"Phew! It stinks here!" Despayre scrunched up his face and wrinkling his nose as the group stood on the small bridge at the railing, looking out over one of the larger tar pits covered with green moss and fauna. His distaste for the odors not withstanding, it did not prevent him from picking up the camera that hung from around his neck and take a hurried snapshot of a bubble in the tar pool -- a simple bubble that emerged from the still surface and deflated.
Despayre cast a glance over his shoulder at Fantasia and said, "Personally I was hoping for an earth shattering kaboom."
Fantasia smiled, but she had to agree with the little guy. The smells around this National Monument Park were rather unsavory. She patted his back and moved on further down the bridge where Shane stood while Synn and Gabriel stood just a foot away from Despayre, allowing him to observe the pools at his leisure.
Oh, and Angel? He was safely tucked snugly against Despayre's chest in that baby harness that Rage (ptew, ptew) had bought for just such emergencies a few years ago. He couldn't risk Angel's curios nature getting him into a sticky situation now could he?
"You know what causes the smell, don't you?"
The voice beside him caused Despayre to start and he turned around quickly to stare at an older woman standing close by, but not too close so as to invade his personal space. Despayre simply stared at her, his discomfort for strangers starting to flare up but he said nothing, which the woman obviously took as an invitation to continue her ":education" toward this young stranger. A know-it-all tourist perhaps? Or maybe she worked at the nearby museum on the site.
Either way, she took a step closer to him and looked out over the railing and continued to talk, "The smell is actually caused by the methane the tar pits give off. Its not unlike a freshly paved road on a hot summer day, you know what I mean?"
Despayre simply nodded, but that was perhaps the wrong thing to do for the polite but intimidated young man as this just caused the woman to continue yakking away, while he himself turned his head away and rolled his eyes, desperately wishing his dad and Gabriel would come rescue him from this woman's incessant chatter. He came to look at the cool tar pools and maybe visit the museum, not listen to a lecture from a complete stranger. Even when they went to museums, they always went on their own without a tour guide talking over them the entire time.
"If you only knew the full amount of animal species that have been discovered in these pools." She said with a proud smile. "If you only knew the full amount of animals that are still buried somewhere deep in them to this day."
"Do you know?" Despayre half mumbled, his elbow on the rail and his cheek in the palm of his hand. He had meant it to be a sarcastic comment but she had obviously taken it as a question of interest.
"Of course not." She answered. "Nobody does."
Again, Despayre rolled his eyes and his fingers started to drum the rail. He glanced down at the teddy bear against his chest and mouthed silently 'I know!' as she went on.
"Most of the pools that you see now are the result of human excavations throughout the past century. Even to this day, heavy rains have been known to cause the natural oils of the pools to ooze toward the homes and businesses that are around here. There have been many complaints but really, what can you do?" She smiled. She did not see Despayre give her the ol' side eye and curl his upper lip in a comical snarl.
She went on, "Did you know that once when the city was digging underground to build an underground parking garage, they discovered a near-complete adult Columbian mammoth? Or how when the fossilized remains of the animals that lost their lives to the tar pits were discovered, the asphalt turns their bones to a dark brown or black? As a matter of fact, I learned..."
The woman turned her head and saw Despayre with an expression on his face that either spoke highly of boredom, or sleep deprivation. She tilted her head to the side and said, "Oh dear, I do tend to run on. I am sorry if I bored you, dear. Tell me; how are you enjoying the Tar Pits?"
Despayre turned to her with his best misty eyed, wobbly bottom lip look and said in a choked voice, "Angel lost his father in a tar pit." (He dabbed away the "dry" tears and said, "Excuse me!" Before he hurried away to Gabriel and Synn....
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Messterpiece Theater
w/Joshua Kooky
As the classical theme song played in the background, the opening shot is that of a book's spine where inscribed in gold lettering was "Messterpiece Theater". It rolled over and faded to a close up shot of a tabletop, fine oak and a silver bowl filled with Skittles. Fade to a large tome, an original edition of "Lord of the Rings", open wide on a pedestal and a purple sash draped down the center as a place saver. The camera pans to the right of the book to a bust of He-Man of the "Masters of the Universe" franchise. Moving aside from that, a silver tray piled high with unwrapped Twinkies and Ding Dongs. Moving further up the elegant table was a framed photograph of a teddy bear (two guesses as to who!) and just behind that, in a gold leaf frame, a picture of Queen Elizabeth herself. The camera panned over to a small row of books, personal favorites such as "The Picture of Dorian Grey" and "The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes."
The camera panned across a large display case, where rested several championship belts with golden emblems, such as the AWA International, AWA World Tag Team, NWA World Tag Team, SCW World Tag Team, and SCW Internet. Also in the case was an elaborate trophy for the Blast From the Past Memorial.
A bookcase was set on the far wall, and there, seated in an old English chair before it ands in front of a window looking out across the night skyline, was our host. Clad in a purple smoking robe and Grumpy Cat slippers. A bubble pipe in his hand and a crystal goblet of Cherry Coke on the table at his left. With an open book on his lap, he looked up to the camera and smiled.
"Hello friends, and welcome to the very first edition of Messterpiece Theater. I am your host, Joshua Kooky."
He blew a small stream of bubbles that caught the lamplight from the pipe and pulled it from his lips. He waggled his eyebrows to continue.
"I come to you this fine evening to tell you a sorrowful tale of woe. A story about a man that has been consumed by greed and desperation. A man that is so desperate for approval that he takes to his side the first available call girl with fake red hair that he could afford. I bring to you this evening, 'the Tragic Tale of TNA.'"
"It does sound rather fancy, does it not? The name of this woeful star that tragedy is destined to intervene against. One might think when one is known simply by initials, that great things are in store for you. Sadly, this was not to be the case for this poor individual. For you see, since he arrived in the City of Sin, the man known as Mister TNA had lived under the delusional belief that great things were in store for him. In school he was a part of the cool kid's circle, and at home his mother would always strive to make him believe and understand just how cool and good looking he was. After all, if your mom says your cool, then it simply must be true! And after school, everywhere he went, Mister TNA went on believing that everything should be handed to him on a silver platter, simply because that was the way things had always been."
"Mister TNA, or as his friends would come to know him as, Travis, was never told no. And for the record, his mom paid for his friends to play with him. True story! He was the one who grew up with his nose never having been bloodied, so he had a privileged mindset instilled in him. Never was anything denied him, until he came to Sin City."
"You see, Mister TNA -- Travis -- was a bully. A star deprived man who wanted fame and fortune, and he sought all in the rough and tumble world of professional wrestling. He looked for it in Sin City. Even before he met his first opponent, he fell into gold fever and demanded title opportunities rather than earn them as his peers did. After all, he was Muster TNA! Why should he have to earn anything when it should be handed to him? And time after time, he was indeed granted championship opportunities at many champions over the course of his time, but each and every time, the chance to emerge victorious and wear gold around his waist slipped through his fingers."
"And by slipping through his fingers, I mean he choked."
Joshua Kooky looked into the camera for a close up and smiled.
"One might say that Travis was the Susan Lucci of the wrestling world."
Joshua turned back to a long shot at the camera and kicked an ankle up over a knee.
"It was almost as if young Travis believed that his opposition should simply lay down and allow him to win, without having to work for it or bother with any effort, but he was disappointed time and again. Whether it be for the World Championship, the Internet Championship or the Roulette Championship of Sin City, he was unable to wrest it from the grasp of whomever held it at the time. Multiple chances were given, as were multiple defeats at the hands of his opponents."
"Then, in an act of desperation, Travis sunk to an all time low by forcing yet another championship opportunity to be handed to him by attacking a young champion, adored by the public and who wanted nothing more than to go out into the wrestling ring each night and simply have fun. Travis knew that in the wrestling world, attacking a champion practically guaranteed a championship match, and this time was no different."
"Yet he did not allow it to end there, oh no. Travis knew his opponent was superior to him in every way, from looks and ring skill, to a charming manly mashismo that attracted the babes in all corners of the world. So to gain the much needed edge in his cheaply won title shot, he furthered his assault on the poor champion by injuring his knee."
Joshua looked into the camera and shook his head sadly, clucking his tongue.
"Tsk tsk, young Travis. Tsk tsk."
Joshua turned to the front camera, and slowly closed the book on his lap.
"Only the root problem remained, can even such an edge as the injury bestowed upon the champion, result in the much sought after win for Travis? Unfortunately, it was not to be. You see, even with just the one good leg, the champion was still an altogether better athlete than Mister TNA could ever hope to be. Plus, there was plotting between friends to even the score, and level the playing field against Travis, should the chance present itself. Crowbars are not, after all, the easiest thing to find in an arena's backstage, now are they? Yet I digress."
"Travis thought that by taking away the champion's aerial offense, he would become a simple matter to put down and defeat, but oh how wrong that assumption would prove to be. As hard as Travis would fight to defeat the champion, that very injury inflicted upon him would make the champion fight even harder. Not just to emerge the winner and retain his championship, but also to deny Travis his much desired championship -- again. Call it being fickle if you must, but deep down this one has become rooted in one of the coldest areas of human actions; revenge. And what better revenge on the champion's part, than to beat Mister TNA a second time, and add insult to injury by doing it despite the injury Travis inflicted."
"Travis is something of a tragedy, wouldn't you say? One almost would feel bad for him were he not such an arrogant douche nozzle. And speaking of douche nozzles, that would bring us to the other factor in this story; the fact that miraculously, Travis has himself a girlfriend. A girlfriend he paid for by the hour, but a girlfriend all the same. Travis has used her time and again, and not in the naughty late night HBO movie kind of way. (He's not capable you know!) He used her with her skimpy outfits and high pitched banshee wails to distract opponents time and again, and even at times cost an opponent what could have been a win. Would the dastardly pair make this attempt again against our valiant and heroic champion at what would prove to be High Stakes? Should he, Mister TNA and Miss Ruby Roadkill, would do well to remember that the champion too has friends, and one such friend would be at his side during this epic encounter. A friend both lovely and beyond compare, and one who would show no fear in fighting to protect and defend her absolute favorite from the claws of the she-beast."
Joshua clasped his hands on his lap and kicked his foot over his knee and sent his slipper flying. His head whipped in the direction it flew, then he slowly turned back to the camera with a smile.
"Sorry. Not to you, my viewers, but to the poor, sad figure known in our story as Mister TNA. Try as he might, success is simply not fated to fall into his lap. The championship he has demanded since the very beginning of his story will not be his when the night is over. The champion, whether with one leg or two, is simply better than he ever could be, or ever will be. Actions such as the ones he performs tend to come back and haunt an individual you know."
Joshua nodded knowingly.
"It would be a funny little thing called Karma. Travis shall reap what he sowed, and this champion he sought to take advantage of? He would be all too happy to do to Travis what Travis did to him. An eye for an eye, some stories tell. And at the end of our story, we come to realize that in Mister TNA's sake, not all stories are meant to have happy endings."
Joshua then uncrossed his legs and sat back in his chair, reaching over to carefully pick up the glass of Cherry Coke.
"In case you might be wondering, this was what one would call the shoot portion of a promo. So many others can stand there and talk about their match and repeat themselves over and over about what they are going to do. But it takes an insightful and imaginative mind..."
He tapped his temple and winced.
"Ow! I really need to trim my nails! I mean ... such as I have, to get the message across to the closed minds of the opposition in a meaningful and artsy sort of way."
He gave the camera a goofy smile and waved his bubble pipe in a meaningful way.
"So join me, won't you? For the epic tragedy of Mister TNA. And I thank you, one and all, for sitting with me here tonight for the first ever episode of Messterpiece Theater."
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As the theme music played once again, the camera slowly pulled out as Joshua, eyes closed, swirled his Cherry Coke around in the goblet and savored the aroma as the scene faded.
