[Mark Ward]

 Post your roleplays here! Good luck!

[Mark Ward]

 Promo for mystery entrant.



Monday. Noon. The camera opens up in a place that's nobody ever expected to see at all. Japan. The land and creation of all great things. Videogames. Anime. Pokémon. But if you take away all that and go deep into its historic, we learn more of Japan and it's ancient roots, where the code of the samurai once lived and breathed in the Rising Sun. The Imperial Palace is shown on the screen, a statue of a samurai warrior named Kusunoki Masashige on horseback as he holds tightly onto the reins. He looks fierce, confident in himself, a way a samurai should be. Then you hear a voice. It's a voice that cannot be distinguished easily at all, for it is scrambled, like a mean, computer voice you would hear if you were the victim and he/she was the hostage. That's the voice you'd be hearing from, so imagine that in your heads. And yet, the voice itself speaks with confidence, a fierce tone strengthening with each and every word he says. For now...we listen.

For the next two weeks, my identity will not be revealed. That being said, you may refer to me as Mr. X. That is all I can tell you in regards to that. However, I have a lot more to say. I suggest you pay close attention to what I'm about to tell you.

The picture of the samurai warrior fades away and the camera's picture ignites once more, this time showing a picture of a famous martial artist who simply needs no introduction; Bruce Lee.

Mr. X: When I was a child, I was looking for a role model to look up to. Someone that had what it took to survive in this world, someone who could never be defeated. Someone who meant business for himself and would do what was both necessary and right to make himself be remembered in the years to come. After all, he achieved immortality by living a life that was worth remembering by those who knew him and by those who preceded him in the future generations and ages yet to come. That's the man that I strived to be and thus far, I have been successful. I follow in his waking footsteps every day. I read from his book like it was The Bible, because what he revealed to me was unlimited knowledge and power beyond anyone's pathetic comprehension. That's what I strived to be, like how he did...perfection.

Bruce Lee faded away from the screen and was replaced by a plethora of pictures, from corrupt politicians to violent gangs. As the images of these dark times and violence continued to roll on the screen, the voice from the darkness speaks out once more.

Mr. X: Of course, perfection would be a hard thing to achieve. It's not because of me, of course; I chose this path for myself a long time ago when I realized what I wanted to be. But it's the obstacles that get in my way, nothing but negativity to show for it. Look at the world today; dark, twisted businesses shaking hands in exchange for money they never worked for while the rest of the innocent populous has to suffer. No matter how hard we try, we always get told by people one word all the time. No. No. No. Then they add that nothing is impossible unless you had to "do favors", if you will. But I never let that stopped me. Not the violence, the corruption, the naysayers. All my life, I wanted to succeed at my own terms. I learned this the hard way and I went to work. I got everything I asked for by earning it. Nothing was ever given to me as a genuine free ride; I worked my ass off to the bone to make myself the global success that I am today. And now? None of you have a single clue as to what you are up against, but you must be DYING to know who I am now, don't you? I won't let you.

The endless cycle of death and violence ceases to exist on the TV screen and is replaced with a hint of comedy; Batman's arch-villain, the Joker, electrocuting a police officer by shaking his hand. The voice from within laughs heartily. It looks like he's also viewing the images, but it's impossible to tell at this point. The camera rolls back to see a projector alive, with a screen to show for it. The room is completely dark, so it's even impossible, at this point, if the surprise mystery entrant is even within proximity. The voice continues with his hosen choice of words again.

Mr. X: Mind games. I love them, especially since I'm the aggressor and you're the helpless victim that has no choice in the matter but to fall prey to it. With the exception of Mark Ward and Christian Underwood, no one in that locker room has the foggiest idea of who and what I am. I expect that each and every man superstar and diva read through the description of the match more than once and either had their eyes grow as wide as dinner plates or had to bait their eyelashes in tormenting curiosity. That's all fair and good, especially since it's against the four opponents that I am given the task of destroying and eliminating in this...rumble. This rumble in which leads to a reward - first shot at the Roulette title...and whoever wields it in the aftermath of Blaze Of Glory III. I look forward to that moment, but first, I must focus on the present and worry about the future later.

The image of the Joker and the shocked police officer died and a new batch of images flare up on the screen, giving each member a moment to shine on the camera. Andrew Garcia. Deavon Justice. Connor Murphy. Mephisto. It isn't just pictures that are shown, but videos showing off their best moments in the ring, whether it's here or in the past. The voice once again laughs deeply in the dark. He appears to love this, the thrill of a challenge. Already, the mystery entrant's brain is wracking up ways of humiliating his opposition in the harshest way possible. But can he get the job done? Only time will tell...

Mr. X: I don't care who any of you are and why you are here. I also don't care about your future boasting of past accomplishments and present plans of the unknown future that awaits you four. I simply don't. The only thing I care about these days is winning, because winning is a great factor for me. After all, this isn't my first rodeo inside a battlefield. I've destroyed multiple opponents before me. It didn't matter what race, nationality, or creed you hail from; my job is to come out on top. I alone require the necessary skills to get the job done and all of you will see this first-hand for the very first time. In any case, what was I talking about? Oh yes, this not being my first rodeo. I've been involved with hostile crowds that asked for no mercy. I've been battered, broken, and bruised to the point of where it almost cost me my life. But I never quit; I never gave in. The odds were always stacked against me, whether it's me and my body versus one person with a weapon or against ten foes in gruesome situations. But I overcame the odds. I survived. I defeated everyone who came before me and I'll gladly do it again here. Why? Because it's my mission in life; to become a man of perfection that's always bound for glory. Fighting is my life. It's my passion. If I didn't have that, what good in the world would I be able to serve? At Blaze Of Glory III, you're about to face off against a wildcard who has the odds stacked against you and no matter how hard you try, no matter what tricks you may pull up your sleeve, I assure you with this. All of you...will fail.

The pictures of all four men are gone, replaced by an image of the SCW Roulette championship belt. For a few minutes, the voice doesn't say anything. Perhaps he has refused to say anything further, perhaps this is what was all he wanted to say for now. But the voice speaks up again, as it rose from some deep well, knotted with confidence that eventually grows into rage.

Mr. X: That is why you four are here. That is why I am here. A shot at the SCW Roulette title in the future. But why do you really want it? Is it for the money? Is it to find more girls in the locker room after you are done in each and every show? Is it for the fame? Whatever it may be, I don't care. I only care about victory, to climb that mountain one more time and to stay there for good. This is great, because this is all for my advantage, for MY benefit! I have a feeling that all of you will do everything within your pathetic powers to take me out of the game, to make me leave empty-handed. With no reward and with nothing to show for my efforts. How dead wrong you are, gentleman. None of you have a clue on who is really pulling the strings around here and when you do find out, the whole world is going to be in shock. Believe me when I tell you, none of you will see me coming. I'm the most dangerous mortal you'll ever step foot in the ring with me, a master of psychology that has already eclipsed whatever greatness you believe to have obtained, because I've already surpassed you all. And I'm going to back that all up at Blaze Of Glory III.

One more image is shown on the projecting screen and it's with all four men's photo up, with a ? shown all the way to the right. The voice speaks for the very last time and he hopes that, by now, they realize how much serious trouble all four of his opponents are in at this point. If not...they will find out at the PPV, no doubt.

Mr. X: I know that all four of you are going to hurl insults at my direction. I know that all of you will puff up your chests, boast your ignorance and stupidity to me, attempting to get the last word. But believe me when I tell you, I will respond accordingly and my words are as sharp as a katana slicing through butter; it's going to hurt and it will be painfully easy to accomplish. Once the time for the war of words to end, there is no turning back. I'm going to annihilate all of your chances of becoming the SCW Roulette championship. I don't care if it's Brother Grimm or Michael Hardy that I must face in the future; they will be destroyed in an instant. For now, my razor-sharp focus is on you four pitiful weaklings that deserve to be beaten with lessons like a wise professor to his foolish, cumbersome students. It is time for you to go through hell and to stay there for all eternity. I'll be your shepherd of fire, so to speak. All I can hope is that you are ready. But even then...will you be ready? I doubt it, for all of your fragile efforts will be in vain...

Suddenly, we hear a light switch flip on and the camera turns out to see a stylized, orange X painted on the wall. The room is surrounded with evil laughter as the scene slowly fades away in the dark.

[JustinSmith]

 The scene shows Andrew Garcia walking towards Casey William’s House of Pain on Academy Drive in Las Vegas, gazing at the bright lights that are notorious with the city, feeling nervous because he is getting ready to meet up with Casey Williams to discuss his last match.

Casey-Today, we are going to do something a little different with your training.

Andrew-Like what?

Casey-We are first going to watch your last match against Mephisto, and see what you did, and build off that.

Andrew looks at Casey confusingly while Williams puts the DVD of the Climax Control from 3/16/2014 into the DVD player, and fast forwards to Garcia‘s match against Duante Mephisto.

Justin: And now for the first match oftonight… introducing first… residing from Chicago, Illinois and weighing in at 233 pounds… Daaaanteeee Meeeephhiiiisssstoooo.

The Lights throughout the entire Sin City Wrestling arena simultaneously begin to flicker out one by one before finally going completely out, and engulfing the entire arena in darkness, as the arena goes completely dark “Quantus Tremor Est Futurus” By Ishikawa Tomohisa begins to blare on out of the PA Sound system and out steps "The Black Rose" Dante Mephisto from behind the black curtains.

Dante stands alone in the isle as fans can be heard booing him and making marks of disgust Mephisto soaks in the abhorrence of hatred towards him as if they were cheers of joy as he continued looking out into the darkness that surrounds around him.

After a few minutes Dante slowly strides on down to the ring, once at ringside he walks around to the steel steps and walks on up them and enters the ring. Once inside the ring Dante throws out his arms (Viva la Randy Orton)and poses for a few seconds as he awaits for his opponent to come on out from behind the black curtains.

Justin: and his opponent from Oakland California… weighing it at 245 pounds… being accompanied by Casey Williams… Annnndreeeew Garrrrcciiiia.

The opening rift to Busta Rhyme and Ozzy Osbournes’s "This Means War!!" start to blast through the speakers, as red and yellow lights start to flash, the yellow cutting through the red to create a orange effect. The fans boo as the lyrics kick in.

"Just make sure them, them drums is smackin’..
This, means, WAR!!"

Andrew appears at the top of the ramp, with his manager, Casey Williams behind him, the duo looking around at the crowd and not moving, his eyes burning holes through the crowd.

"Take a look inside
You can run and you can hide
If you cross my path
I'll make sure you feel my wrath
Give and you receive
Cherish every breath you breathe
Scriptures on the wall
Those who betray all must fall"

Andrew lets out a roar, his arms out wide before he looks around the crowd, focused. The Honorable Warrior starts to walk towards the ring slowly with Casey following in tow, stopping halfway down the ramp and turning his head to look at the booing crowd, their thumbs pointing down. Andrew shakes his head slowly and turns back to face the ring, walking down towards the apron. Andrew puts his hand on the rope, and pulls himself up on to the ring apron and steps between the middle and top rope, staring around at the booing fans as Casey climbs over the top rope. Andrew raises his arms as the fans boo louder

As Andrew and Mephisto stand toe to toe in the middle of the ring, Jacob Summers wastes very little time in calling for the bell.

Ding, ding, ding.

Andrew is quick to lock up with Mephisto and the two power houses struggle to gain the upper hand on each other. Mephisto tries to be sneaky while trying to lock Andrew in a side headlock but Andrew counters with a massive closed fist to his face. Mephisto stumbles backwards but Andrew catches his right arm and drags him into him for an almighty clothesline.

Adams: Did you see that Simone? Mephisto just bent in half like a banana.

Simone: Yes I did see it Jason, I am sitting right beside you.

Adams: Well someone’s got attitude tonight.

Andrew quickly pulls Mephisto and himself up to his feet linking his arms with Mephisto’s he drops his opponent down on his back with a power bomb. Andrew quickly dives down and makes a cover, while Jacob makes the count.

1…2…

No! Mephisto gets the shoulder up just in the nick of time and that makes Andrew livid. Pulling Mephisto back to his feet Andrew looks to set him up for another high impact move but Mephisto side steps it and brings Andrew down to the canvas with a Russian leg sweep. Andrew’s hands come up and cover his face as Mephisto starts to attack the giant with left and right kicks.

Adams: Mephisto’s on the attack…

Simone: Well he’s going to have to think of something to keep Andrew down.

Mephisto runs towards the ropes and uses them as a slingshot before crashing back down onto Andrew with an elbow drop. Andrew crumbles up into a heap and Mephisto goes for the pin.

1…2…

NO! Andrew is able to get his shoulders off the canvas and in turn the giant lifts Mephisto up off of him.

Adams: Whoa, Andrew’s like the hulk but orange!

Andrew makes it up to his feet and circles Mephisto and the two lock up once again, this time Andrew doesn’t waste any time in capitalising and hooking one of Mephisto’s leg for a split leg overpass slam. Mephisto goes down hard on his right leg and Andrew can sense that he has caused some damage.

Simone: Like a shark that senses blood in the water.

Andrew turns his attention to the injured leg of Mephisto, by nailing it with swift kicks before running at it and driving towards him taking Mephisto off his legs with a low shoulder barge. Andrew rolls Mephisto up like a rice paper roll and goes for the pin.

1…2…2… and a half…

Mephisto is able to get his foot up on the bottom rope and Jacob’s forced to stop the count.

Adams: How did he manage that?

Simone: I’m not quite sure but I think Andrew’s about to destroy Jacob

Adams: Orange Hulk is angry!

Andrew gets up to his feet and he is right in Jacob’s face screaming at him, asking him why it took him so long to count to three? While Andrew is fighting with the referee he is giving Mephisto valuable recovery time. Mephisto stirs behind Andrew and drags himself over towards him, getting up to his feet slowly Mephisto takes advantage of the distracted Andrew bringing him down with a violent back breaker. Mephisto quickly rolls onto of Andrew and goes for the pinfall.

1…2…

NOPE! Andrew powers out and leaps up to his feet Mephisto is up as well and the two run straight for each other but out of nowhere Andrew is able to level Mephisto with the “bust a cap” – double knee face buster.

Adams: BUST A CAP!!!

Andrew rolls on to Mephisto and hooks the leg.

1…2…3…

Ding, ding, ding.

Justin: Here is your winner….. Andrew Garcia.

While Andrew gets his hand raised in victory, the crowd burst out in a chorus of boos

Casey-Well, first thing I think we should look at, is Jason‘s comment about you being the Orange Hulk.  It makes sense if you think about it.

Andrew-How do you figure?

Casey-You are familiar with Marvel Comics and the characters of Bruce Banner and Hulk, right?

Andrew looks at Casey, and smiles, feeling confident in himself.

Andrew-I get what you are saying.  The Honorable Warrior in me is Banner, whereas the “dishonorable“ acts come from Hulk.  I like it..

Casey-.Exactly, when you get angry, you turn into the Hulk and throw your good sensibilities out the window so to speak.  You need to do that in the Battle Royal, to get yourself a good shot at the Roulette Title.

Andrew looks like he wants to cause someone immense pain at this point.

Andrew-Well, Casey, the other men in this match are going to meet the monster that you created within me.

Casey-That is the attitude I like hearing.

Andrew smiles, laughs and speaks again while he paces around the room in excitement for being included in a group so early in his career.

Andrew-I am going to make you proud Casey.

Casey-Good

Andrew-Now I want to focus on training for my Blaze of Glory III match, so do you mind if I call out my opponents?

Casey-Go for it.

Andrew then walks towards the bathroom, stops right outside the door, turns around and faces the camera to focus on the mystery entrant first, who referred to himself as Mr. X.  

Mr X, you can talk about your search for perfection all you want, but you are looking in the wrong place for it here in SCW, because you will fail.  Just because we don‘t know who you are until the actual event doesn‘t bother me.  You are irrelevant to me.  I will show you and the world that I am the best man in this match, and will emerge victorious, regardless what you and any of these other goons say.  I mean, I destroyed Deavon before our match a few weeks ago, and you saw the destruction I caused upon Mephisto, so you have seen what I am capable of, and how dangerous I really am.  If I were you, I would withdraw from this match unless you want to get your ass served to you on a silver platter.  Are you related to Professor X from X-Men? I mean, what kind of name is Mr. X anyways.  It is so bland and unoriginal.  I will show you how good I really am, and why I am really here, and that is for a chance to be champion, and not just another victim.  Nothing you can do will stop me from becoming Roulette Champion.  Try as you may to cut my words like a katana sword all you want, but my actions inside the ring will speak louder than anything I can say, you wait and see.

Andrew then enters the bathroom, does what he needs to do, and exits it, faces the camera again to focus on the next opponent, Connor Murphy.  

Connor, a man who thinks he is a bad ass and is a rip off of the Sandman from ECW with the drink in hand and the cigarette smoking before a match.  The real question I have is can you back up the cockiness in the ring.  I haven‘t watched you in action but know of you.  I am not worried about you because you are going to fall at my feet after I beat your ass, and destroy you like I did everyone I have faced thus far.  Yeah, Landon Axel was the one on the winning side in my debut, but he never beat me, and he lost the next match he was in, all due to the pain I inflicted.  Deavon Justice hasn‘t wrestled since I kicked his ass, and obviously neither has Duante Mephisto.  Regardless, I am the most destructive force in this match, so you best stay out of my way if you care about yourself and your career, otherwise I will destroy you, plain and simple!

Andrew then walks over towards the gym, stops, faces the camera, whilst having a intense look on his face and calls out Deavon Justice.  

Deavon, Deavon, Deavon.  We meet again!  You think you are tough by bloodying me up a few weeks ago was good?  Look what happened after you did that.  I knocked your ass out, proving to the world I take no shit from nobody.  That was proof why I am truly the Orange Hulk, and still holding my honor, because when I am angry, I am willing to do whatever it takes to eliminate the person who caused me to become angry.  I see I wasn’t as successful as I wanted to, but that is ok, because I will eradicate you from SCW for once and for all. There is nothing you can do to slow me down, and I will be victorious over you, if it is the last thing I do.  You are going to wish you never bloodied me up when you did.  I will show you what a true champion looks like.

Andrew then walks over towards the treadmills to get a quick run in, gets off the treadmill, turns to the camera one last time to call out the man who he defeated at Climax Control, Duante Mephisto.  

Mephisto, the cowardly one.  How did that Bust a Cap feel at Climax Control?  I hope you are prepared for another ass beating by my hands.  There is nothing more to say to you that I didn‘t say at our last match, so I will make this short and sweet.  You will be the last man in this match to get a Roulette Title match, plain and simple, because you are pathetic.  As much as I may not like the other guys in this match, they have more potential in their pinkies then you do in your whole body. I will stand there and watch you cry because you failed to win this match.  It will bring me pleasure to eliminate your pathetic ass from this match.  Nothing you can say or do will matter, because I am the only real threat to Brother Grimm‘s Roulette Title, and everyone in this match should take notice to my dominance, as should Brother Grimm.

Andrew has a cynical smile on his face as he walks towards Casey Williams, who is inside the ring and cackles, content with himself as the scene fades to black.

[Deavon Justice]

 Chapter 6: A hero is born

Scene 1 - Bad ass transportation
Time: 3:00pm
Date: 3/21/14
Location: Parking garage of the Justice Corperation Building

The boots clank on the cement of the parking garage. Devon walks up to a car covered by a car tarp. He runs his hands along the tarp.

Deavon: The Evolution began on Climax control two weeks ago, and now it will continue to evolve come Blaze Of Glory 3. Scw has been missing something for many years now and that something is me. A hero to do away with the no do gooders of the SCW. Garcia....Garcia got lucky when we last met, the match never started or he would have suffered his first loss by my hand. His time will come, the SCW is full of Villans that will be delt with by my hand so help me god.

Deavon pulls back the tarp reveling a dark green almost black Bugatti.

Deavon: It's time to go to California, it's time to do what i do best. I didn't fair to well in my last super card apperence, but this time it will be different. I will come out on top no matter who my opponent is.

Deavon gets in the car starting it up reving the engine four times before squeling
out of the parking garage and off down the street.

Scene 2 - At the hotel
Time: 12:00pm
Date: 3/22/14
Location: The Hyatt Regency Hotel in Long Beach, California

Deavon's Bugatti pulls up to the front of the Hyatt hotel. Deavon steps out and pulls a black duffel bag out of the passenger seat. He slings it over his shoulder as he walks into the Hotel and up to the front desk.

Receptionist: Hello Sir how may i help you.

Deavon: Yea i need to check in.

Receptionist: Your name sir?

Deavon: It should be under Deavon Justice.

The receptionist clicks a few keys before looking back up at Deavon.

Receptionist: Well sir it looks like we have you booked for two weeks. We just need
an I.D. and a credit card.

Deavon pulls both items out of his wallet handing them to her. She does what she
needs to and hands him back both cards and a room key.

Receptionist: If you need anything sir just phone us and we will take care of it for
you.

Deavon: Thanks.

Deavon proceds to the elevator. He goes up to his room at the end of the hallway. He opens the door to a huge room, he walks in and throws his bag on the bed. Pulling out his laptop. He sits down at the desk opening up the computer and checking his email.

Deavon: So it appears Im in a battel royal for a shot at the Roulette championship.
The hero of SCW is not on a path to gold. No matter who the winner every one gets a title shot just depends on the order. The prize of the match does not matter, what
matters is that im stepping into the ring with four villians of SCW. I must dispose
of them....I will dispose of them. Garcia, Murphy, Mephisto, and the Mystery Man
will not know what hit them, they will experience pain like they have never felt
before. My mission has been laid out in front of me. Blaze of Glory 3 will be the
rise of the cyborg of wrestling. The Evolution is upon us.

Deavon goes back to checking his emails after his little rant, getting ready for his
day tommorrow.

[Connor Murphy]

 The click of a roulette wheel can be heard electronically coming from the darkness as footsteps match each click.  The heels of a pair of boots make perfect counterpoint to the spinning wheel.  Stepping out into the light of what looks like a spotlight is Connor Murphy, a cigarette dangling out of the left side of his mouth as he looks down at the electronic toy in his hand.  The magic eight ball glistens in the light as Connor looks up.

Connor Murphy:  Roulette rules are about as predictable as this here eight ball.  I mean stepping into the ring with four other guys and expecting to walk out the winner is almost improbable.  Note that I said improbable but not impossible.  

Looking down at the eight ball, he shakes it slightly.

Connor Murphy:  Will I walk into Blaze of Glory and win a title shot?

Looking at the ball, Connor reads out the result.

Connor Murphy:  Definitely!  Now that is quite the prediction.  And believe it I do because that is just exactly what I am going to do at Blaze of Glory.  Now I think maybe I should be questioning this eight ball about the men I have to face in the ring at the Supercard but who to ask about first?

Taking a slow drag from the cigarette and letting the smoke filter from his mouth slowly Connor’s lips curl into a smile amidst the lingering tendrils of the smoke while he begins to shake the sphere in his hands.

Connor Murphy:  Andrew Garcia…the honorable warrior or orange hulk…will that big dumb ox stand a chance in the ring against me or will he just fail like everyone else is going to?

The eightball is turned over to reveal the answer.

Connor Murphy:  Without a doubt?  Without a f *bleep*ing doubt if you ask me.  Honestly this ball must be glitching or something actually predicting that Garcia can do anything to me that could even be counted as a draw much less a win.  I am so ready to show him that for all he is a muscle bound braggart that couldn’t wrestle his way out of a way out of a soggy paper bag with a guide and a map…oh wait…that is Mephisto isn’t it?

Connor chuckles as he begins to slowly shake the sphere again.

Connor Murphy:  Speaking of Mephisto, tell me magic eight ball…will I get to have my way with Mephisto and beat the holy hell out of him?

Connor consults the oracle and smirks as he holds it up to show the camera as he takes the cigarette from his mouth and then picks up a bottle of some kind, swilling at the drink before beginning to speak.

Connor Murphy:  Says here that the outlook is good that Mephisto is going to get his ass handed to him again.  But this time I am going to do it with better flair than Garcia did.  

From behind the camera, a voice calls out that Garcia said that Connor was a low brow Sandman from ECW.

Connor Murphy:  Seriously?  Man that guy is delusional.  Sandman…really?  I am more of a Sabu, RVD guy don’cha know?

Connor looks so serious at that comment before he breaks into laughter, joined by the voice from behind the camera.  Wiping at his eyes, Connor goes back to talking.

Connor Murphy:  Okay, that was fun but back to business…who’s left?  Oh yeah, Deavon Justice and what will be his destiny?  Will he win?

The eight ball is shook again and once the answer floats into view, Connor begins to tsk slowly.

Connor Murphy:  It says that the sources say no to that.  I am so sorry Deavon, truly I am but you can’t go against this very accurate divination tool I am holding.  And lastly, Mr. E Nigma or Mr. X or whoever it is, will the eightball be able to predict what will happen with him?

The hand holding the eightball begins to shake it as Connor closes his eyes and bring the sphere up beside his cheek to whisper his question.

Connor Murphy:  Does our mystery man have a chance to win?

Connor slowly pulls the ball away from his cheek and then looks into the window before sneering at the answer.

Connor Murphy:  Most likely.  I knew it!

Before he says anything else, he takes another slow drag from the cigarette then a pull from the bottle.  Setting the bottle down, Connor looks again at the ball and then angrily he stands, his arm drawing back and slamming the ball downwards where it shatters.  The liquid drains out of the smashed ball and the answer block tumbles to the side.

Connor Murphy:  Who the hell predicts their opponents with a silly chick thing like a magic eightball?

The voice from behind the camera can be heard to chuckle and say that Connor himself does only to draw the wrath of Murphy.

Connor Murphy:  Take that back you f*bleep*er…

Getting to his feet, Connor begins to walk towards the camera angrily as it tries to back away from him.  Suddenly Connor’s hand covers the lens sending it to black.  In the darkness, an angry Connor can be heard hitting something and muttering curses.

[Christian Underwood]

 The first RP Period has passed. Everything posted after this counts toward the second RP Period.

[JustinSmith]

 The scene shows Andrew Garcia walking towards Casey William‘s House of Pain.  Casey emerges from the building, and shakes his head.

Casey-Today, we are going to do something a little different.

Andrew-Like what?

Casey-We are going to The Palzzao tonight.

Andrew looks at Casey confusingly while trying to figure out why they are going there as they arrive to the bank next door to get some cash.

Andrew-Why are we going there?

Casey-Well, we have been working so hard lately, I figured you needed a night to relax and have some fun.

Andrew-I see.  I have always wanted to play some Texas Hold‘em in Vegas.

Casey-Now you will get your chance to do that.

Andrew looks at Casey, and smiles, feeling confident in himself as they leave the bank and walk next door to the Plazzao.

Andrew-I hope we meet someone famous from the poker scene.

Casey-I don‘t know.  I don‘t want you going crazy if we do.

Andrew looks like he wants to cause someone immense pain at this point.

Andrew-I won‘t.

Casey-Good.

Andrew smiles, laughs and walks to the bar, and asks if they carry Warnog, which is the Star Trek themed beer, inspired by the same people that inspired Andrew as a child, the Klingons.  The bartender nods his head, and Andrew gets one, which has notes of clove, banana, and caramel in it. As he turns around, he spots the legendary Phil Ivey, who has a World Series of Poker bracelet, made 7 final tables and was in the money 11 times in his career, and is regarded as the best all around player. Andrew is star struck, but calls Casey over.

Andrew-Oh man, there is Phil Ivey.  He is such a good poker player and looks a lot like Tiger Woods.

Casey-Yeah, I guess he does.  Maybe you guys will play at the same table, ya never know.

Andrew-Well, I am going to play. I will catch you later.

Casey-Good luck buddy.

Andrew goes and cashes his $25,000 in for chips and finds a poker table in which he can play at. He sits down, puts down his chips and waits for the next hand.  He realized Phil Ivey sitting down at the same table that he did.  The hand finishes and Andrew gets dealt an Ace and King, both of spades, and Andrew calls the big blind.  Andrew then focuses on Mr. X while doing the pre-flop round or the initial betting round before the community cards come out, calling as others raise.  

Mr X, where it is a mystery to us who you really are, it isn‘t a mystery that I am going to kick your ass anyways.  Do you think I care what you think of me?  Not really.  I am going to do whatever it takes to win, even if it means running over you and leaving you for dead. You got to reach down, and pull out a rabbit out of your ass to think you have a chance to defeat me, and win this battle royal.  I mean, come on.  You being the mysterious entrant and everything is lame as shit.  If you really had balls, you would  have announced yourself as an entrant from the beginning and not hide under smoke and mirrors, so to speak.  You are almost as bad as Mephisto, acting like a coward.  At least you have stuff to say regarding this match, which makes you more of a man than him, but not much more.  I will expose you for the fraud that you truly are.  When this match is over and I stand victorious over your fallen carcass, you will regret how you handled yourself leading into this match.

The dealer burns, or discards, the next card to prevent card marking cheating, and then lays down the flop, the first 3 community cards, which is a 10 of spades, Jack of Spades and the Ace of Diamonds.  Andrew checks, as he down plays the fact he has a pair of aces, and a possibility of a royal flush, which is the best hand in poker, being the Ace, King, Queen, Jack and 10 of one suit.  Meanwhile, the other players raise, and Andrew calls them, and turns his attention to Connor Murphy as the betting goes on before the turn, with people either calling or folding their hand.  

Connor, I know you’re style is more like RVD and Sabu, I was strictly speaking your pre-ring ritual with the drink and the cigarette.  I know you claim to be a inspired by the Boondock Saints, and that doesn’t bother me, so long as you can actually bring it in this match.  To me, you are the toughest person I have to face in this match, because I know how good you really are, and unlike the others in this match, I know you can actually bring it.  Either way, there is no place for 2nd place, go big or go home.  You have seen that I will come back for more.  I mean, you saw what I did to Deavon after he bloodied me up a few weeks ago.  I knocked his ass out with a chair.  The son of a bitch deserved it.

The dealer burns the next card, and then lays down the turn card, the 4th community card, which is the 10 of hearts, giving Andrew 2 pairs, and the royal flush possibility is still alive.  Again, Andrew downplays his hand, expecting people to have a better hand, and lets the people around him raise, and Andrew calls, then focuses his attention on Deavon Justice.  

Deavon, you talked about the fact if the match we were scheduled in actually took place, you would give me my first loss. Who do you think you are?  You are nothing than pathetic but in reality, you are half right in respect to the first loss.  I was in the losing side in the first round of the Blast from the Past tournament, which concludes at Blaze of Glory III, but I have not lost in singles competition, and I will do everything I can to be the last man standing here, because I know I am that damn good.  I hope, for your sake, there is no chairs involved in this match, because you know how dangerous I am with a chair.  If chairs are allowed, I am going to run the gauntlet and get the easy win over all of you and get the first title shot and your opinions are a fucking joke, just like you.  I hope you are medically cleared to fight in this match, and if you are now, I will make sure that by the time I am done with you, you won‘t be cleared. I don‘t care, because I hate you, and all you stand for, and that is an understatement.  Either way, I will not let you beat me down and defeat me.

The dealer burns one last card, and flips over the river card, the last community card, the Queen of Spades, giving Andrew the Royal Flush.  Andrew still downplays the hand, not wanting to scare the 2 remaining players, one of which is Ivey, in to fold with a high raise, so Andrew lets them raise and Andrew goes all in when he calls, and turns to the camera one last time to call out the man whgo he defeated at Climax Control, Duante Mephisto.  

Mephisto, you are starting to remind me of the pinball wizard, where he is the dumb, deaf, and blind kid.  Either that, or you are just scared to face me.  Either way, it doesn‘t matter because we all know that you are the easiest target in this match for me, where I know I can beat you, have done it, and will do it again.  I, unlike you, am not afraid to speak my mind, and then allow my actions speak when my words can do me injustice.  Sometimes, it is better to prove how good you are, instead of just saying how good you are, like I did the last time we met.  If I fall and get pinned, I am taking the rest of you down with me.  I hate cowards so much.  I mean, if you‘re a man, be a man and actually show up and show some balls, otherwise you are nothing but a bitch to me, and will continue to be one until you actually man up.  If you were smart, you would stay out of my way, or you WILL get hurt, and that is not a promise, but a guarantee.

Andrew has a cynical smile on his face as he looks towards Casey Williams, when he realizes how much chips, knowing how much that they are worth, that he won with that royal flush, and cackles, knowing he beat Phil Ivey in a hand of poker, content with himself as the scene fades to black.

[Christian Underwood]

 Promo for mystery entrant.



The image of the room with the projector came to life yet again. It's now sometime in the evening, on a cold, windy Friday night. The voice from the darkness is ready to speak again, fully confident that he's able to get the job done against four helpless, worthless men. None of them could possibly fathom what's about to happen in that squared ring. In that ring, the strong survive and the weak has no choice but to perish in the hot blaze that envelops their very soul. We see a picture of his competitors come up on the projecting screen and the voice that belongs to the mystery entrant, once again scrambled and hard to identify, speaks from the very shadows.

Mr. X: After I spoke last week, I vanished into the four winds and bided my time. I was somehow hoping against hope that maybe one of you would be strong enough to clash with me verbally and perhaps would be dominating enough in the ring to defeat me at Blazes Of Glory III. It is unfortunate to report, however, that the competition has proven to be weak and stale in my mind. While Mephisto has yet to reveal himself, Conoor, Andrew, and Deacon have spoken their minds. What they had to say for me was unfortunately their weakest efforts yet. I'm disappointed by you boys. Yes, I call you all BOYS because you're about to step into the world of a foe that's going to provide blood in that ring and none of you are strong enough to defeat me, Mr. X! And speaking of that awesome mystery name, let me show you something first...

The image of the four men disappeared from view completely. It was replaced by a bald man in a wheelchair, looking straight ahead at a class of mutants. Professor Xavier is the leader of the X-Men and has fought valiantly in countless wars against those who try to harm the innocent. However, Mr. X and Professor X are different for many reasons. For starters, the voice that emanates from within the mystery entrant is REAL, while Professor X is NOT real. Second, the mystery entrant has no powers except for the ones he claimed for himself, while the other man is gifted in many ways. Thus, that makes Mr. X a more likely candidate to win the Roulette championship shot first before ANYONE ELSE! Suddenly, the picture of the fictional professor is gone, replaced by Andrew Garcia, with his arms crossed, trying so hard to look tough and menacing on the screen. The voice cackles with glee before speaking again.

Mr. X: Let me start with you Andrew Garcia. Is that the best that you can come up against me? You want to stand there and compare me against some fictional hero? Boy, I'm no hero. I'm a person who doesn't need to be in a place of equal partnership, nor am I interested in how others like you or anyone else that's merely spectacting from afar think about me. Your words mean NOTHING to me, Andrew Garcia, because it's nothing but an annoying sound that begs to be cleared out immediately, like flies buzzing in your ear. But I have the biggest fly swatter you can possibly imagine, Andrew Garcia, and no amount of telepathy or mutant powers is required for your inevitable destruction! You should have listened to my voice from last time, for it bears worth repeating - I care not for your worthless achievements or present glories, Mr. Garcia. You want to talk about me being irrelevant, but you don't have a clue as to WHO and WHAT I am, do you? You're going to be given the surprise of a lifetime, because let's face it, nobody saw me coming. NOBODY, except for the higher-ups that is, but they don't matter much to me in the end either. Sooner or later, everybody has a price to pay around here and it's my job to see that pain, suffering, and misery is spreaded around like a disease. You, Mr. Garcia, are going to be the first of many victims to suffer my wrath and you only have two things you can do about it - NOTHING AND LIKE IT!

And speaking of not knowing about me, Mr. Garcia, are you kidding me? I'm not going to reveal myself to you until the PPV is complete! You act so tough when you stand there, don't you? Every word that you've chosen to use against me is nothing but an empty vessel of LIES! The way you act reminds me of those mindless thugs I used to read about when I was a kid. You know the comic Batman? I'm sure you do, because those thugs would always act like cowards, unintelligent, too afraid to do anything about the situation except to point at the shadows with their guns, calling out the caped crusader. That's exactly like YOU, Mr. Garcia. For all your noble intentions and holier-than-thou speeches, you don't impress me one bit. And your reputation is nothing but negative energy. After all, you were trained by Casey Williams, weren't you? Ah, there is it, Mr. Garcia. That's the biggest problem you have in this whole dilemma. Casey Williams, your pathetic mentor, has shaped you to be a punk-ass bitch overall. Sure, you won a few victories, but ARE THEY WORTHY? Please, kid, that doesn't faze me one bit. Now, if it was someone like Mark Ward that I was tasked, then I would have reason to worry. He'd be much more of a challenge than you would be. And speaking of which, I suggest you ask Casey Williams about that...how was it when he fell to the might and strength of Mark Ward? Face it, Andrew Garcia, your mentor was and still is a failure in every sense of the word. You're going to fail in your task to destroy me, to expose me, and all that ignorant venom you desperately tried to shove in my face.

I won't have any of it, Mr. Garcia, because you're nothing but a joke around here. That's what I'll be exposing you for; a clueless, no-good son of a bitch that deserves to be beaten within an inch of his life. You're not championship material at all, Mr. Garcia; you're merely a victim of my power. You should start considering me to the immortal Grim Reaper that knocks at your door and asks for your death without any hint of remorse or pity in his eyes whatsoever. Your time is up, Mr. Garcia, and I intend to walk away with a victory that will set me back to the top, one way or another. Consider me the mystery opponent that will always be better than you in every way, shape, or form. I suggest you get used to that idea VERY QUICKLY!

Andrew Garcia is wiped off the face of the Earth...at least on the projector screen that is! Replaced of that disgusting image is a picture of an even worse image - Deavon Justice. Posing as Wolverine, looking ripped, it gives the audience the sense that maybe he could be the next best thing. But how is that possibly when a guy like Mr. Garcia here can defeat him in a matter of seconds? Well, maybe not THAT long, but you get the picture, don't you? In the background somewhere, you can hear some kind of movement, as if a person is shaking their head back and forth as if saying "No, just no."

Mr. X: Deavon, you are one of the worst fighters I've ever seen from a distance! Hell, son, I honestly believe you won't deliver much of an impact in our first encounter! I mean, look at you, foolish boy. I've heard this guttural garbage from people like you time and again. Experiencing a kind of pain I've never felt before? Please, son, what I do in the ring is unlike ANYTHING the world has ever seen. It's been too long since I've been inside a ring, much less a cage, but I assure you, kid. My skills are FAR more devastating than you could possibly hope to have in all your years of combat! I don't understand why you are part of this debacle in the first place, except obtaining a possible shot at the title. Why do you think that? Why do you think you deserve to be here in the first place? Places like this only allow people like me to fight for everything we are worth for something even greater than you and I - any kind of belt that makes us incredibly amazing! Without that belt, WE ARE NOTHING! You, the witless worm that speaks so little and with small confidence, will have no chance in hell in earning a major victory that could prove how great you could possibly be to the higher authority! But I'm not talking about Mark Ward or Christian Underwood! I AM THE HIGHEST AUTHORITY around here, not any of those men or even that one woman that holds the Divas title in her hands! Soon enough, Deavon, you'll see for yourself.

Having a ripped body, posing like you're some kind of dangerous animal that shouldn't be touched or messed with that? It means nothing to me in the end, Deavon. You can look great and act tough all you want, but once that bell rings, the truth will eventually come out. Either you're going to be the greatest thing on the planet today and you're going to end up buried six feet below. To be honest with you, I know for a FACT that not a single man, woman, or child can achieve that, because I'm so much better than the rest! After what I've gone through and seen after being out of the game for SO MANY YEARS, I'm back with a vengeance! I'm not here to just settle old scores or create new rivalries, I'm here to earn victory with each and every step that I take in this new territory! For so long, I've been wanting to spill blood and cause an infinite amount of violence, all to shake this up and let them know that Mr. X is no mystery, no lie, but REAL and the most dangerous one of them all! So I suggest to you, Deavon Justice, that you either bow out of the race or prepare to suffer the consequences at my hands!

That choice, you unfortunate, delusional boy, is one that I leave in YOUR HANDS!

The voice of the mystery entrant dissipates, allowing the listeners to digest everything that has been said thus far. What is his plan really? Is he really there to cause destruction and havoc like no one else or is it possible that he's there for another reason? Only he has the true answer and that's one mystery that they'll keep to themselves. Meanwhile, a new picture flashes on the screen briefly, then stays there. It is one of Connor Murphy, playing around the eight ball. The voice breathes heavily, then speaks to those who are willing to listen and are eager to discover what he has to say about this pitiful soul before the audience's eyes.

Mr. X: Do you honestly believe, Connor Murphy, that an eight-ball will really aid you in your hopeless quest to gain anything for yourself? You can try to rely on fortunetellers and eight-balls all you want, but exactly what good will that do to you? It's quite obvious where your path ends - at me. But even by not being in the ring, it still isn't going to help you. A robotic "Yes", "No," or "I don't know" isn't going to help you in any way, shape, or form. The future that we are given to create is done by our own footsteps, Connor. Don't you realize that? Of course, you probably realized the answer a bit too late, but there it is. Connor, I don't expect you to win this fight at all either. None of you, in fact, would be a recommendable challenge that would give me a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. That's how we, the strong ones, survive in the end, kid; we give it everything we got and we leave it all in the battlefield, without looking over your shoulder in regret. Can you do the same for yourself? Can you join Garcia and Deavon, your fellow combatants, in growing a pair, acting like men and not cowards, and getting the job done? I CERTAINLY don't need an eight-ball to tell you the obvious answer and that's a flat-out NO! Do you take me for a fool? Do you want us to believe that you have any shot at possibly a title around your waist? After I'm done with wasting the rest of you fools, you ignorant morons better come up with a new plan for ourselves, because a business like fighting has no place for guys like you! I mean it!

Why waste your time in this whole endeavor, Connor? You came here to be just like everyone else....it doesn't matter what kind of gimmick or personality you chose to take, you're just like me and that's the same for Garcia, Deavon, and the missing Mephisto. All of you want a chance at the title and while that's noble, your efforts will be in vain. Trust me when I tell you, when I fully reveal myself from the shadows, you're going to wish you never screwed with me in the first place, asshole. When Blaze Of Glory III arrives around the corner and I'm brought out of the darkness, the entire world is going to tremble in fear. I promise you, after a long time being away, years in fact, you're going to wish you would have fought someone A LOT of weaker or one of equal skill without my presence involved! How dare you play games with your eight-ball magic bullshit! How dare you try to intimidate everyone else and I with your weak mind games and fragile words! My words, Connor, will be backed by my actions, so rest assured, I'm going to be the man who will end your career, along with the careers of Garcia, Mephisto, and Deavon as well. None of you are safe. None of you are neither man enough or powerful enough to take me out of the game! My strength, my speed, my cunning, my chrisma, and my talent have grown tenfold! So while your display of power will be interesting to witness, it not be enough to destroy me.

So if everything you have to offer at Blaze Of Glory III is what I see right now, then you best GIVE UP NOW!

A picture of Mephisto appears, at first, then the rest of the gang show up on the screen. One by one, the mystery entrant seems to eye them all, giving them one last glance. For some unknown reason, the mystery entrant erupted with loud laughter, the voice continuing to be scrambled and hard to understand at times. After everything that's about to transpire at Blaze Of Glory III, what will happen to the mystery entrant? Will the mystery entrant finally be able to obtain the gold or does he really have a different mission in mind? With so many opportunities being presented, the mystery entrant enjoys that feeling, of being the wildcard. No one in SCW saw this coming and after this, no one will ever be safe. He speaks from the shadows one final time.

Mr. X: As far as Mephisto goes, I could care less. He remains the same to me as the other three. So I highly suggest you listen to my final piece of advice, one that's for free and only free for one time only. If you are still wanting to go down this road, know this; I won't hesitate to kill. I won't hesitate to do what's right for me. If it means putting all four of you in the hospital or have you permanently injured or scarred for the rest of your life, then I will. That SCW Roulette championship title will be MINE for the taking and it's only a matter of time before it is brought around my waist for the first time! All you can do is sit at a distance and glower at me with fury and hatred. Let's be honest though; after I win this battle royale, all four of you should be pissed off at yourselves. You four will not and shall not get the job done. Only I can do so! None of you will be alive after the beatings I will gladly give to you at Blaze Of Glory III. And most importantly, everyone else that watches this match will be forced to plan out their moves in a more careful manner. For once I return, NO ONE IS SAFE! For now, my identity will remain a secret, but once the floodgates are open, there is no turning back! I just hope you four...Garcia, Murphy, Justice, and Mephisto...are ready for the hell that awaits you! Until then, pray to whatever Gods may aid you, because no God will save you from the anger and wrath I have been anxiously waiting to release!

Either you can start running away and let me have what's rightfully mine...or stay and die a horrible death. The choice is in YOUR hands. I look forward to seeing you all fall beneath my rage at Blaze Of Glory III!

Then the voice disappears and we suddenly hear a door being shut. The camera turns around and sees a HUGE X plastered on the wall. It flashes once, twice, then a third time. Then the screen fades out with the words "Mr. X" showing on the screen, thus ending the transmission.