[Peter Vaughn]

~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.~