Last Week
~The picture slowly comes up outside of the Southwest Motors Events Center in Pueblo, Colorado. We see Peter Vaughn coming out the door, with a toothpick in his mouth. He spits it out to the side, having finished whatever he was eating, and then walks towards the company parking lot, where security is monitoring everyone’s vehicles. As Vaughn walks forward, though, the door behind him slams open, with a heavyset man hurrying out of it with a camera on his shoulder.~
Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn! Wait, Mr. Vaughn!
~Vaughn stops, a little annoyed, as the cameraman heads towards him. Through the miracle of editing, the shot switches to the image of what the cameraman is seeing, as he approaches Vaughn. He stops, a little out of breath, while working to keep the camera steady.~
Peter Vaughn: I assume there’s a reason you’ve chased me down, boyo? What, I didn’t give you guys enough of a promo inside?
Cameraman: Oh… no, it’s not… that at all… Mr. Vaughn…
Peter Vaughn: Breathe, champ. You’ll speak faster if you can get that under control, and I’ve got places to be.
~For a few seconds, the cameraman does just that, taking a few hearty breaths of air to get his lungs under control. Vaughn waits impatiently, looking down at his watch, as the cameraman recovers.~
Cameraman: Sorry. You wouldn’t believe how heavy this equipment gets…
Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. Trust me, it’s good for you to be exercising. So now, what’s up?
Cameraman: Well, first of all, Mr. Vaughn, you’re leaving tonight’s event early.
Peter Vaughn: Very observant of you.
Cameraman: But I have to ask… Finn Whelan is wrestling in the main event tonight. In fact, his team is defending their belts right about now. And I have to think, since you have the Golden Briefcase, there might be an opportunity…
~Vaughn puts up a hand, stopping the cameraman from talking. He smirks.~
Peter Vaughn: Let me just stop you right there. When I cash in, it’s going to be in a singles contest, probably when the SCW Heavyweight Title is already on the line. I’m not going to interrupt a Tag-Team contest. For pity’s sake, I’ve been on enough tag-teams where my partner has let me down. I certainly don’t want to cause disappointment for Kayla by taking out her partner mid-match.
Cameraman: Okay, but…
Peter Vaughn: Also, you get into all the confusion after that. If I pin Finn, do I win the Heavyweight Title? Or the Tag-Team Titles? It gets rather messy. It’s best I just stay away.
Cameraman: But once the match is over, couldn’t you challenge Mr. Whelan then? When he’s already been through a contest?
Peter Vaughn: With his tag-team partner right there, ready to cause the disqualification and cost me my title shot? You need to think through these things a little better, big man…
~The cameraman gets quiet, properly chastised. Vaughn sighs, takes a few steps so he can lean against his precious truck, Gabriella.~
Peter Vaughn: Look. I have unfinished business with Finn. I also have unfinished business with Sean. I plan to rectify that fairly soon. But it doesn’t mean that I have to completely circumvent the system to do so. Now… COULD I do that? Maybe. But not right now, for sure. Soon. But not now.
Cameraman: Okay… so how do you feel about your match next week with Rodrigo Afonso? They’re saying that if Mr. Afonso wins, he’ll get an Internet Title shot against you.
Peter Vaughn: Well, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Honestly, I’m surprised I’m not defending against him already. I was prepared to put the title on the line next week. I haven’t done so since Milo, and I am ready to put a few more points on the board. But the powers that be made it a non-title match, since it’s Rods, and so he’ll get his opportunity to prove himself. Will he follow through? I’m doubtful… but it could happen. The man’s hurting right now, after all.
Cameraman: Hurting?
Peter Vaughn: Yeah. I basically stole his Golden Briefcase from him, the one that was supposed to make him a champion. I’d be hurting after that, wouldn’t you?
Cameraman: I suppose so. But he could have cashed it in.
Peter Vaughn: He could have. He didn’t. That just marks him as a cautionary tale for me to learn from. That said, he could be dangerous right now, with nothing left to lose. Or he could be broken. I suppose I’ll find out next week, won’t I?
Cameraman: I suppose we will.
Peter Vaughn: Now, look, friend. I can give you more of an interview this next week, but I need to hit the road. I need to get back to Sadie.
Cameraman: Your wife? Why, is something wrong?
Peter Vaughn: … No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything is great. I just need to get back to her, because, y’know, she’s pregnant. And we have a decent drive ahead to get back to the ranch.
Cameraman: Okay, Mr. Vaughn. Thank you for waiting for me and answering some questions. Drive safely out there!
Peter Vaughn: Don’t worry about me. I have a perfect driving record. All of the accidents have happened behind me. See you later!
~Vaughn gets into Gabriella, ready to drive off, as the cameraman steps back, perhaps pondering that accident remark. He doesn’t say anything, though, as Vaughn drives off, taking his briefcase and championship with him. We cut away.~
The Present
~We come on to a shot of Peter Vaughn standing in the middle of a hay-torn shed, staring forward at a large cow laying in front of him.~
Peter Vaughn: Well… I didn’t expect to be seeing this kind of view this week…
~Vaughn shakes his head, as the man next to him gives a laugh.~
Cliff: Ah know, boss, but you never know what’s coming around the corner, do you?
Peter Vaughn: Nope. Life can be unpredictable. So what did the vet say?
~Vaughn steps closer to the cow, putting a hand on the animal’s side, as if trying to feel what’s going on. The cow just gives a weak moo, looking away from him.~
Cliff: Vet said that this cow would be delivering its calf any day now, when he was out here two days ago. He said that everything looked good at the time, but obviously, something ain’t right now.
Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. And let me guess, that vet isn’t answering their phone right now?
Cliff: Oh no, he answered. But he’s apparently knee deep in pig’s blood at the Dalton farm. Three of the pigs have gone into labor, and you know there can be 10-15 piglets from each one. So he won’t be able to get over here anytime soon.
Peter Vaughn: *Sigh* We don’t pay him enough, clearly. We should be a priority for him. We’ll have to look around for other options after tonight. So from what I’ve seen from the other births, the calf just comes right out. What’s the problem here?
Cliff: No clue. She’s just been down like that for the last hour. I definitely think something is wrong.
Peter Vaughn: Yeah…
~Suddenly, there’s noise at the shed doorway as it swings open. Sadie Anderson Vaughn is there, dressed in her usual working clothes, as she steps into the barn and looks around.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: I just heard. What’s going on?
Peter Vaughn: Just a cattle issue, Sadie. Nothing for you to be too concerned about.
Sadie A. Vaughn: Oh, really? And which one of us grew up on a ranch again? Who has the most experience with these sorts of things?
Peter Vaughn: I mean…
Sadie A. Vaughn: Trust me, dear, that’s a rhetorical question, you don’t need to answer. So what’s happening with Bonnie?
~Sadie moves past Vaughn to check on the cow, probing along the side, while Vaughn looks over at Cliff, who gives him a bemused shrug. Vaughn then steps over to Sadie’s side, waiting.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: Hmmm. I think the birth is in dystocia. I think something’s wrong with the calf inside. Did you call the vet?
Peter Vaughn: Busy with a trio of Miss Piggy’s.
Sadie A. Vaughn: Damn…
Peter Vaughn: But don’t worry. Cliff and I have got this.
Cliff: We do?
~Vaughn reaches over, pulling out two arm-length plastic gloves and raising them up in the air.~
Peter Vaughn: We do.
~Sadie raises her eyebrows, looking back and forth between them, as Cliff nervously nods. He’s always up for anything, although he knows this could get… messy. We cut away.~
You do what you have to do in any business. It’s the way things work.
For instance, Rodrigo, here I am, scheduled to fight you once again. We’ve faced many times, you and I, through Roulette Title surprise matches to single affairs to Golden Briefcase wars. And in all of them, Rods, it looks like I’ve pulled out the victory. But you know what? It’d be bad to just look at the wins and losses and assume that’s the whole story. I know that you’ve come close in almost every encounter we’ve had. You could have easily stepped right instead of left at some point and become the Roulette Champion, or ducked when you previously jumped and avoided your downfall.
I know that I’ve had some luck on my side, at times. I don’t RELY on luck, but I certainly accept it when it works for me.
Here’s the thing, though, Roddy, I think you’re struggling right now, for sure. You’re seeing me holding this piece of property I took from you, showing it off to the world and immediately getting the attention of guys like Finn and Sean, and you’re probably feeling some jealousy. You’re probably thinking you want to take away a piece of MY property, eyeing the Internet Championship around my waist.
And you know what I say? Bring it on.
Show me what you’ve got, Rods. Slam into me with a force of a hurricane, Hurricane Afonso, and tear through me like Beryl did the coast of Texas. Launch into me with everything you’ve got, and you MIGHT find a way to come out victorious. And then, your title shot is completely assured. You’ll have earned it.
Or, you can add another defeat on the list at my hands, marking it down in all the historical lists. I mean, I’ve stopped recording them on my List of the Vanquished, but I’m sure someone’s keeping track.
But don’t let it be that way, Rodrigo. Get fired up. Attack me. Curse me out. Come at me, bro!
Because I’m certainly not going to come into this one at half power, no sir. I’m going to do my best to bounce that brain around inside your head and take you out of the competition once and for all. It’s nothing personal. It’s just what I do. If you’re not going to be the top contender for the Internet Title, it’s best I get you out of the way now and move forward.
Straight into Summer XXXtreeme XII for whoever else is in my way.
Will it be you, Roddy? Or will it be someone else answering the challenge? I suppose we’ll find out Sunday, won’t we?
I’ll see you there, kid.
~We are back in the small shed/barn where the birthing cattle are usually kept. Cliff and Vaughn have both gloved up now, and are sitting at the back of the downed cow, considering things, as Sadie watches on with concerned annoyance from the side. Cliff takes another look, swallows, and then glances over at Vaughn, speaking in a quiet voice.~
Cliff: Do you have any clue what we’re doing here, boss?
Peter Vaughn: Of course I do. I prepare for anything when I know something’s coming. I’ve watched several videos on cattle births.
Cliff: You’ve… watched videos?
Peter Vaughn: How else are you expected to learn, besides watching others do it? Now it’s time for the practical experience. Look, if you want, you can reach in here and feel around. Trust me, the cow won’t mind, at this point, they want something to happen back here.
~Vaughn indicates where he wants Cliff to go, and with another deep swallow, Cliff obeys, reaching in. The cow gives another moo, letting them know that she feels something. Cliff, not happy, gets in further, feeling around.~
Peter Vaughn: What do you feel? Anything?
Cliff: I… I feel a head, I think. The calf’s head. It’s moving. The calf is still alive.
Peter Vaughn: Alright, that’s good. Can you, y’know, give him a little tug? Get him started?
~Cliff nervously moves his arm, presumably pulling, but he immediately stops when he feels the calf struggling.~
Cliff: No. He’s not budging. Something ain’t right. Damn it, we need to get that vet over here now!
~Cliff pulls out, shaking off the glove, as he steps over to the side. He gets on his phone, ready to give the vet a piece of his mind. Meanwhile, Sadie, shaking her head, steps in closer to her husband.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: I guess it’s up to you now.
Peter Vaughn: It usually is. Okay then. Let’s get to work.
~With no hesitation, Vaughn follows Cliff’s lead, using his gloved hand to go inside. He feels around, noticing the same calf head that Cliff did. But he feels around lower, checking the entire body that he can reach.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: What did you find? I see it on your face.
Peter Vaughn: Trust me, I’m finding a lot. This is taking me back to anatomy class back in high school. Still, it’s what I’m not finding that’s troubling. I only feel one hooved foot at the front. Shouldn’t there be two?
Sadie A. Vaughn: Oh no… one of the legs has gotten trapped behind. That’s why the calf can’t come through.
Peter Vaughn: Okay then. I guess we need to find that leg and get it straightened out.
Sadie A. Vaughn: Be careful. You could easily break it.
Peter Vaughn: Even if I did, we could always throw it in a cast and let the calf limp around. We need to get this guy out of there.
~Vaughn moves his hand around several times, likely pulling on the calf’s trapped leg. The cow gives a soft groan, feeling something happening. Suddenly, Vaughn is pulling backwards, trying to shift the calf around with one hand. After a few tense moments, the calf’s head appears, with Vaughn pulling below it. One hoof appears… and then, finally, a second one! The calf’s other legs soon follow as the entire calf spills out of the cow, landing on the ground. The calf is moving, still alive, as the cow starts to get up to come around and check on her baby. Vaughn gets to his feet, with Sadie stepping in to hug him… changing her mind when she sees the glove.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: You mind getting rid of that?
Peter Vaughn: Oh. Sure.
~Vaughn removes the glove, tossing it aside in the trash can. Sadie then does come in for a hug and kiss, while being careful of anything that might have transferred onto Vaughn’s coveralls. Cliff, meanwhile, steps back in.~
Cliff: The vet said he’d send his assistant… oh.
Peter Vaughn: I think we’re good here. Although it wouldn’t hurt to have the youngster get checked out, and the mother, too. That certainly wasn’t easy. You’ll keep an eye on them, right, Cliff?
Cliff: Sure, boss.
~Vaughn glances back at the two cows now in the fenced-off area, nodding his head at the avoidance of a costly loss. Cattle are big business, after all. He and Sadie head off, while Cliff gets back on the cell phone to give the vet an update. We jump away from the scene after one more shot of the recently-born calf.~
Life is precious… and sometimes a bit gross. But it is what it is.
You know, Roddy, you’ve had a privileged life. I get it, you may not see it that way. But there were people that would kill to have the family you did. To have the connections you did. To succeed the way you did. Let’s face it, when I was young, I didn’t have that kind of support. It was the reason my life headed into janitorial services, because let’s face it, I wasn’t going to eat without some kind of cash flow, and college obviously wasn’t happening.
So in a way, Rodz, I envy you.
In a very small, small way.
But things have certainly changed since then. I now own my very own ranch. I’m a prosperous businessman as well as now married and expecting my first child. You, Rods, you’re certainly not on as straight a path, are you? Your wrestling career is struggling, and you’re basically finding yourself heading back towards the Olympics, where you’ve had more success. So it’s been a rough ride, right? And yet I’ve heard rumors that you, too, might have a baby on the way. If this isn’t true, then I apologize for the misconception. If it IS true, then I guess that’s one more thing we have in common. Let me offer you my congratulations.
I’m sure you’ll make a great father.
Okay, no, I’m not sure, but I’ve been told that’s what you’re supposed to say. People keep saying it to me, and I honestly don’t know if any of them have meant it. Because, c’mon, how are we supposed to know if we’re going to be great fathers until we’re actually there being tested? I’d never proclaim myself the greatest wrestler in the federation without challenging as many of the top names as I could first. I certainly won’t call myself Father of the Year before the kid is even born.
I’ll leave that for Joe Montuori to brag about.
So what kind of legacy are you going to leave for your child, friend? A skateboarding legacy? I’ve heard of worse things. A wrestling legacy, though? Maybe they’ll have something to shoot for. Plenty of second-generation wrestlers have outclassed their fathers. I’d love to see my child enter the squared circle one day and compete to better all of the records I set in my long career. They’ll have a tough time keeping up, but they’ll have the right genes. Anything is possible.
Of course, they could also become a custodian. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Anyhow, this isn’t about the next generation. This is about us, Rods. You and me. Mano a mano one more time. Is this going to be it, do you think? Will this be the last time Peter and Rodrigo clash? Or will we meet again at the top of Sin City in the future? I suppose that could always happen… if something changes.
And I’m not talking about diapers.
But if this IS it, let’s go out with a bang, man. You only get so many opportunities in life. Why waste this one? Let’s show everyone that we can steal the show when we get things going. Let’s teach them that they can never take us for granted. I did it with Milo. I think there’s a chance we can do it as well. But it’s really on you.
I mean, I’m not getting paid by the hour. If I knock you out with Revenged in the first minute, then the paycheck’s the same.
But I’d rather go 45 minutes and put on a show. I want people living the arena talking about the experience of seeing a Peter Vaughn match live and in person. It’s something they could be telling their own kids about. A once-in-a-lifetime experience… and we can bring that to them.
So buck up, boyo. Bring what you’ve got. I’ll fire up The Mechanic for another destructive go-around. And maybe we can give everyone a five-star battle before you end up taking The Plunge.
Good luck.
~We go back to the ranch, where Peter and Sadie are currently sitting on the porch of their main homestead, looking out into the calm night sky. The weather has been unpredictable lately, but tonight is an actually decent night, one that should be enjoyed. Peter takes a sip of his beer, looking more relaxed now, as Sadie looks over at him.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: You’re looking very accomplished over there, Mr. Farmer.
Peter Vaughn: Heh. Well, I did what I had to do. Someone had to take over, didn’t they? And now that calf has a fighting chance.
Sadie A. Vaughn: Was it a he or a she? I didn’t notice.
Peter Vaughn: I believe it was a she, which means she can join the milking and breeding brigades in the future.
Sadie A. Vaughn: That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.
Peter Vaughn: Hey, it’s better than the hamburger meat side…
~Sadie scoffs, not wanting to think about that right now. Peter goes back to his beer, enjoying the taste of it. Apparently he didn’t lose his appetite from what he just saw… or at least he’s still thirsty. Sadie looks upwards in the night sky, staring at the stars.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: It was a very pretty calf, wasn’t it?
Peter Vaughn: I suppose.
Sadie A. Vaughn: I can’t wait to see what our child’s eyes look like…
Peter Vaughn: I’ll tell you one thing: I’m not gloving up and helping out on that one. I’ll leave it to the doctors!
~Sadie laughs, smacking Peter on the arm. Peter smirks, before looking over at Sadie.~
Peter Vaughn: How is that tomato juice?
Sadie A. Vaughn: Terrible. I miss having alcohol already.
Peter Vaughn: Well, we do what we have to, don’t we?
Sadie A. Vaughn: True. But it doesn’t mean you need to drink in front of me…
Peter Vaughn: Hey, I just hand-delivered a baby calf. I deserve this.
Sadie A. Vaughn: I suppose. Anyway, our child will be very different from that delivery. It’s going to be a perfect baby. I just know it.
~Peter looks away, not wanting to make eye contact. He still hasn’t been able to inform Sadie about what his various blood and DNA tests showed might happen. He may never tell her. But it may be unavoidable. Sadie is looking over at him now, a bit curious as to why he hasn’t responded, so Peter does what’s needed.~
Peter Vaughn: I’m sure he will be absolutely amazing.
Sadie A. Vaughn: “He”, huh?
Peter Vaughn: Of course. My genes will definitely deliver a boy.
Sadie A. Vaughn: And my “genes” favor a girl.
Peter Vaughn: I guess we’ll see who wins out.
Sadie A. Vaughn: I guess we will.
~The two are quiet for a moment, with Sadie reaching out to grab Peter’s hand. He accepts it, holding on.~
Sadie A. Vaughn: I love you, Peter Vaughn.
Peter Vaughn: ... I love you too.
~The slight hesitation goes unnoticed, as the two sit quietly, continuing to enjoy the cooling evening. The camera slowly zooms out, as we can hear cattle mooing in the distance.. including the sound of one new calf in the world. We slowly fade out.~