Catching Up With GDL
#NP "Wrecked" by Killbot
Locale; All over the Friggin’ USA

TMZ has reported that former Fuhgeddaboudit reality TV star, Giani Di Luca, has been hard at work to get back into “ring shape” following an announcement that he will be making a return to the six sided Sin City Wrestling ring for their show in Scottsdale, Arizona.  We have caught him working out at various training sites across Nevada, California, Arizona, and even this clip caught by fans from his hometown of Seaside Heights, New Jersey.

We pan inside of a local gym where Giani Di Luca is seen boxing with his former trainer “T-Dogg” Tommy Russo.  The fan’s shaky camera slowly circles around the ring to see Giani firing rapid punches, with all of his might, in an attempt to connect with T-Dogg.  However, each and every hit is deflected.  Giani dances around the ring, waiting for the right opportunity to catch his sensational sensei off guard.  After a few fakeouts, he trots up to T-Dogg and busts him right in his friggin’ face.

Fan:  Holy shit, man!  That guy just got knocked the f**k out!

Giani holds his fists up in celebration, flexing his body, which has clearly never been out of ring shape.  As sweat pours off of his body, he walks over toward the ropes, and looks right down at the fan.

Giani:  Fuhgeddaboudit!

Fan:  Fuhgeddaboudit!  This dude is legit A.F.  I’m sending this into TMZ.

Giani flicks his mouth guard out onto the ground as he does his signature laugh.  He extends his gloved fist toward the fan who comes at him with a fist bump.  Giani then gallops around the ring, gloating over his victory.

Giani Di Luca has been taking his preparations very seriously, having released statements to the public such as:

”I can’t see myself not becoming the next SCW World Heavyweight Champion.  The work that I’ve put into this match alone, against a man who hadn’t done much of anything in the world of wrestling besides try to knock up some country bumpkin with probably the biggest funbags this guy’s ever seen… just imagine what I will do to get at “The White Wolf” himself.  Just sayin’...”

Giani has been out of the spotlight for many years now, having “taken a break” from wrestling.  Most had wondered what happened to the “Italian Stallion” since his departure from SCW after winning the World Tag Team Championships with his then partners, Mickey Carroll and Dax Beckett, collectively known as the Bad Boys (of wrestling).  He seemed to practically disappear from the spotlight, and that is something we’ve never seen from GDL, who always commanded the attention of anyone within a ten mile radius of a television or computer.

TMZ dug a little deeper to find that Giani had been staying in the background, but his presence was still felt in the form of manager and trainer for his Bad Boys counterparts.  When the Bad Boys traveled over to Honor Wrestling in  August of 2017, Giani opted not to sign a contract to wrestle, and he worked closely alongside Erik Staggs to cultivate one of the most hard hitting and controversial stables in wrestling today.

The camera pans to the inside of a VIP Lounge in a Las Vegas Nightclub.  Giani is seen sitting in a white suit jacket with a red tie trickling down his otherwise bare chest.  He has a lady on each arm as he looks around from side to side to see “Shorty” Devin Tyler making out with a hot blonde bombshell in a tight silver dress that looks painted on.  He then looks over to see Tim Staggs and Dax Beckett chugging beers at a very steady rate, being competitive with one another in doing so.

Giani:  Life’s good, bro.  I get to treat these assholes to the best nights of their lives, and in turn, they make me mad bank.  I ain’t even gotta get my hands dirty no more.

Shorty stops and turns back to Giani, his eyebrows furled as he nods his head.

Shorty:  I know that’s right, ya p*ssy! We do the hard work while you sit back and reap the reward.

Giani:  Nah, of anyone in here, I’d say Stella is doing the hardest work.  Making out with gremlin the size of a teddy bear can’t be easy.  Ho skills on fleek.

Bad Boys:  OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Giani once again does his signature laugh as we take in the surroundings of beautiful men and women dancing and having a good time in the lounge, all for the amusement of the Bad Boys.

If Giani doesn’t need the money, or the spotlight, then why return now?  What is truly in it for Giani?  Is a championship belt that important to “The Reflection of Perfection”?  What is it about the allure of the six sided ring that is drawing Giani back?  Could it be more than what meets the eye?

Or could it just be that the competitive nature of GDL is shining through once again?  We’d like to say that Giani has been absent from the ring since his departure from SCW, but that isn’t entirely true.  SCW fans might be aware that Giani took part in an open invitational battle royal earlier this year, which featured names big names like Eyesnsane, Dax Beckett, Mickey Carroll, Tim Staggs, Eric Weaver, Earl Lockyer, John Blade, and SCW’s very own Caleb Storms.

Giani wasn’t originally scheduled to be a part of this match, although it was meant to be a punishment to the Bad Boys for having caused so much chaos in Honor Wrestling, and Commissioner Brooke Saxon decided that punishment to the stable was in order, on the same night that some sort of Mean Girls reincarnation group known as A.G.I.F.T. was being punished for similar tactics.  Giani surprised the world when he, not only entered the frey, but also won the battle royal by lastly eliminating Caleb Storms.

It was at this point that we saw just how “out of shape” Giani truly was.  This must be the answer.  Giani Di Luca must be returning to the ring because he can’t stand to stay out of the spotlight for too long.  He always has a trick under his sleeve, knowing when to step away, and when to return to capitalize.  What better time to return than now?  We caught up with Giani for an interview.  Here is what he had to say…

The camera pans in to find Giani Di Luca sitting in a white leather chair inside of his Las Vegas home.  He has a glass of champagne in one hand, and the latest GQ Magazine in the other, which his face just happens to be on the cover of.

Giani:  Is that thing rollin’?

Cameraman:  Yes.

Giani quickly sets the magazine down next to him on the table where it is still visible.  He tries to feign embarrassment, but it doesn’t quite make it all the way through.  He chuckles in a fake nervous manner.

Giani:  Oh my, I didn’t realize I the camera was on, and I was holdin’ my latest magazine shoot of GQ, available at your nearest media resource.

Giani winks and snaps his fingers as he points at the camera.  He checks his reflection as he fixes a few pieces of stray hair, before giving himself the “Okay” symbol with his fingers and continues.

Giani:  How embarrassin’... But hey, it’s me, it’s me, it’s that Big Time G, back on ya TV screens, all with the thanks to TMZ.  You might remember me from such big productions as Sin City Wrestlin’ Climax Control, as ya Roulette, World Tag, and World Champions.  Might also remember me from such famous matches as the “I Quit” Match against Goth, or… let’s face it, just about any other match I’ve ever been in.

Giani shrugs his shoulders as if to say that it’s no big deal for him.  He holds it there so that we all get the hint.

Giani:  Been on so many screens, from Fuhgeddaboudit to all the W’s, like BACW, PW, SCW, HW, NLW, but I assure you that your favorite W is the one where my arms is held up after the match, and my theme music is blastin’ across the arena.  Ya know, the one I made so famous, even Tommy Knocks has that shit on his iPod to this very day.

Giani points at the camera as if singling Tommy Knocks out.  He flashes his perfect, pearly smile as he nods along to the beat of the music playing in his head.

Giani:  Yaknowhatimsayin’ bro?  Of course ya do.  Ya heard dem podcasts.  I’m still gettin’ royalty checks off’a that shit.  Just like every time one of my fresh tee’s flies off the shelves of the SCW Merchandise Shop, online or in person.  Trust me, when I heard I was bein’ booked this week, I demanded they stocked that shit to capacity for ya.

Giani holds up his “I Got Swag” shirt first, turning it around for everyone to see both sides.  He then flips up his “Fuhgeddaboudit” shirt with the Italian Stallion logo on the front.  He admires it for a second before picking up the winter cap with his logo on the front to show it off.

Giani:  All kinds’a good shit here.  Not to mention the backwards compatible Blaze of Glory game.  It’s all there for ya viewin’ pleasure.  Show ya support for the best thing to ever happen in SCW history and pick them up today.

Cameraman:  This isn’t supposed to be an advertisement for merchan…

Giani:  Speak only when spoken to.  This is my time.  Gawd, how unprofessional can ya be?

Giani shakes his head, getting clearly annoyed with the cameraman as they stop themselves dead in their tracks, leaving the camera set on Giani.  Giani takes a second to calm down, recomposing himself as he takes a deep breath.

Giani:  Damn, it’s been a while since I dealt with someone so rude.  Let’s see if I can get my mojo back.  This G don’t do cue cards.  It all comes from right up here.

Giani points to the side of his head as he starts to lighten up again.

Giani:  I was tryin’ to say that while I’m back inside of an SCW ring, it would be a good time to get the merch while I’m makin’ sure it’s stocked.  Does that make me such a bad guy?  I’m lookin’ out for my fans, and with how many there is, that, my friends, is a major responsibility.

Giani laughs as his eyes widen, truly believing that he is still God’s gift to wrestling.  He then shakes his head as he tries to play the cool nice guy again.

Giani:  So you wouldn’t believe how tough it was when SCW begged me to come back for the Gold Rush Tournament.  I mean, I was so outta shape.  BFP was at like 12%.  It was all them cheeseburgers and late nights out with the Bad Boys, yaknowhatimsayin’?  I almost didn’t even wanna do it.  I have only been in the ring once since I left SCW, so I got ring rust like a motherf*cker!  I didn’t think I was ready to come back to the ring.  The thought never even crossed my mind.

Giani looks as if he is about to laugh at the idea of returning to the ring.  He is in complete and utter shock that he’s even talking about it.

Giani:  But when I was on the phone with both Mark Ward AND Christian Underwood, and they was tryin’ to offer me more and more money, and I kept sayin’ “No”, but they kept offerin’ me higher numbers?  I mean, I don’t need money.  I’m set fuh life.  But I couldn’t help thinkin’ about all the fans out there who deserve to see a real wrestler.  For the first time in a long time, one of those is gonna be in an SCW ring.  I couldn’t sit here and think about lettin’ the fans down by sayin’ no for the fiftieth time.  I had to do it.

Giani looks sincere, but his words just won’t let us believe that he actually is.  After a couple seconds of silence, the cameraman speaks up.

Cameraman:  So this had nothing to do with a massive payout for you?

Giani:  I beg ya pardon, sir?  A payout?  What do ya take me for?  I got cars more expensive than anythin’ you’ll make in two lifetimes.  My house could put an entire orphanage through college.  My shoes could buy a small island on the Pacific, and you think this is about money?  Get outta heyyyyyyy…

Giani is clearly insulted now as he flips his fingers under his chin toward the camera.  He starts to get up, picking up the champagne once more to take a sip before setting it back down.

Giani:  Ya know what?  I’m through bein’ put on trial by some lousy cameraman from a shitty day time television gossip corner.  This interview is over.

Giani storms off of the scene for all of two seconds before coming back onto it.

Giani:  I’m doin’ this for the fans, ya jackass!  Don’t none uh ya at home believe this clown.  Comin’ back has nothin’ to do with money, and everythin’ to do with makin’ each and every one uh ya’s dreams come true.  That’s it, the end, fin!

Giani then storms out of the room for good this time.

Our inside sources have said that Giani refuses further commentary on the matter, but TMZ will not give up until we’ve found out the real answer to the question on everyone’s mind… Is Giani Di Luca… a homosexual?  Stay tuned as we continue our unrelenting search for answers.




That’s Two N’s Ya Jerk!
#NP "Middle Fingers” by Missio
Locale; Bad Boys Home - Las Vegas, NV

Once again, we find ourselves inside of the Bad Boys Home in Las Vegas.  Only this time, it is free of the production crew, but littered with empty alcohol bottles and stray clothing.  Gianni is passed out on the couch, covered up in a white sheet, various different drawings on his face, such as a dancing penis exclaiming “I’m Giani”, or the one pointing at the corners of his mouth.  He starts to stir a bit as he sits up in shock.  He picks up a pair of underwear, pulling them on under the sheet.  He yawns and stretches as he looks around to see he is alone.  He picks up a robe and wraps it around himself as he notices the camera.

Gianni:  I can’t believe that I forgot about this shit.  I forgot I set this whole thing up.  But I guess when ya The Reflection of Perfection, the Italian Stallion, Giannnnnnni Di Luca… ya always camera ready.

Gianni pauses as he looks from one side to the other to give off a view from all sides.

Gianni:  Now, I let it slide this once, but I am the artist formally known as Giani Di Luca.  Since I left SCW, I’ve decided to start over.  I’ve rebranded.  Take note that I am now… Gianni… Di… Luca.  That’s two N’s, ya jerk!

Gianni pauses for a second, letting it be known that he is serious now.  He narrows his eyes at the camera for a second before finally cracking his smile to soften his expression.

Gianni:  Now, legends are made, not born.  I think everyone knows that.  I could go on about my dog, J2H.  He worked hard, but I deserve my own time in the spotlight here.  I worked my ass off to get where I got in my career.  I fought some of the most brutal battles in the history of SCW.  I scratched and clawed my way to the top while I sat there.  I knocked down challenger after challenger.  I am a made man, but I made myself.  Sure, the support of the fans meant somethin’, but I did it all on my own.  The fans didn’t spend 72 hours a week in the gym, and another 72 travelin’, promotin’, or actually wrestlin’.  I did all that.  Days off were non existent, and I made sure I stayed ready at all times.  That was me.

Gianni nods his head at his statement, finding it endearing despite being completely insulting in saying it.

Gianni:  I didn’t have to flaunt a sad story, or try to hook up with the least attractive member of the bombshell roster to try to be relevant to the SCW history books.  I… just… was… Through determination and drive.  I’m not weak.  Can’t say the same for my opponent this week, Bo Dreamwolf.

Gianni shrugs as he leans down to begin picking things up to stay busy while he clearly doesn’t want to be bothered with this interview.

Gianni:  Bo Dreamwolf had a past.  Nobody knows exactly what that past was besides Austin Parker, but he did.  As far as SCW is concerned, his history has been holding the Roulette Championship for all of two minutes.  “But G, ya only held the belt for like two minutes”.  Right, right, BUT!  I had an impressive run with the tag belts and the world heavy.  I did things that Bo Dreamwolf can only dream of doin’ in his career.  I could do it if I wanted to, and that’s what this is all about.  I can do it again, and I will do it again.  Bo Dreamwolf can’t say the same.

Gianni deposits several of the bottles into a nearby trash can.

Gianni:  Takin’ out trash is what I’m good at, so I guess this makes sense.  Bo Dreamwolf has never been able to step up to the World Heavyweight Championship level.  That hasn’t changed.  And neither has my ability to carry that banner.  Come Sunday, Bo… I would make sure that ya got a back brace ready, cause if I’m feelin’ as hungover as I am right now, I won’t be in a great mood, and I might have to break it, again.  Climax Control is my time once again.  I will work my way over you, and whoever gets in my way will meet the same fate.  I’m comin’ for ya, Fenris.

Gianni nods his head to the thought.  However, he finishes picking up the bottles from the ground.  He waves off the camera as he takes the can toward the back door and the scene fades out.

[fin]

 <img src=https://pbs.twimg.com/media/A_3xaGICIAIVuew.jpg>


#BadBoysOriginsPartOne
#NP "I Get Around" - Beach Boys
Storyteller: Giani Di Luca


So here’s a little story ‘bout how this little thing came to be.  Ya knew there had to be a story behind this, right?  I mean, what could someone like me have in common with a fuckin’ skeeze like Mickey Carroll?  I’m a former reality TV star, famous for the show Fuhgeddaboudit, set in Seaside Heights, New Jersey.  Drama, drinks, and DTF chicks awwwwllllllll around.  You know you loved it.  Anyway, I broke out in a local promotion called Badass Championship Wrestlin’ where I was an instant sensation.  Just like on my TV show, people came from all around to watch me fight, ‘cause I got talent.  I snatched the Empire State Championship, and held that shit for six months.  I was fuckin’ boss.  Then, I came to SCW, and had a lil’ run with the tag titles with our current SCW World Heavyweight Champion, James Hun… J2H… before he was a thing.  We practically invented each other, and when we was defeated, I went on to win the very championship that Jimmy holds right now.  I won Match of the Year for the first I Quit match in SCW, with a little help from Hall of Famer, Goth.  Yeah, I did some impressive things here in SCW, while my brotha from anotha motha, Mickey Carroll, has done… well, nothin’.  Some tag title run with his old boy that some uh’ you might know.  Ben Jordan?

Basically, I already been at the top of the game, and the only reason I ain’t no more is because I didn’t, and still don’t, wanna be.  It’s Jimmy’s time.  Let him have it.  Mickey was never more than Ben’s lackey.  Held down in the shadows of his friend, and every friend he’s had since.  Look, his career has been so freakin’ pathetic that no one actually knew he was under one of the hoods of The Nobodies.  Fuckin’ sad, right?  He wasn’t even good enough to be a Nobody.  When this boy lay off the sauce a bit, he’s actually pretty brutal.  Just ask Dax Beckett how that turned out… Yeah, Dax, I see you lurkin’, but I’m doin’ great.  So the question everyone’s askin’, here’s the answer.  Mickey is my project.  He knows it.  Ain’t no secret he’s not on my level yet, but he’s gonna be, cause everything GDL, The Reflection of Perfection, The Italian Stallion, The King of the Six Sided Ring touches, turns to gold like my name was King Midas.  I’m gonna make Mickey Carroll a star, and together, we’re gonna take SCW to new heights while we sink to new lows, provin’ what happens when one forgets exactly who they messin’ with.

So, y’all came here for a story, and it’s story time bitch.  After one of many hot, sweaty, passionate three hour fuck sesh’s with the one and only First Class Bombshell of Sin City Wrestlin’, I look down at Veronica as her chest heaves, and sweat drips down my chin to my chest.  I can’t help but let out a laugh of satisfaction as I slowly lean down and kiss Veronica, cause I’m a romantic lover when I’m with that one special lady, and you don’t get more special than VT baby!

Me:  Damn baby… it’s been a little minute since we went that long.  I’m just glad you was able to keep up.

Veronica:  Just because I did a Snapchat during it, didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying it.

Me:  It’s cool.  I sent a Snapchat to my boys too.  Hashtag it ain’t braggin’ if ya back it up.

I pull out my phone from under the pile of covers as I crawl beside Veronica, doin’ the duck face while she tries to hide her face.  After it’s snapped, she gives me a playful shove, but everyone knows VT can’t pass up a photo op.  I grab her wrists and pin them back as I climb over her.  She bites at her bottom lip as her eyes beg for round four.  I take a deep breath.

Me:  It’s been a while since I got that physical, not since bein’ in the ring.  I kinda miss it.

Veronica:  If you miss it so much, why don’t you return to it?  Just because the Bombshell Division freaking sucks doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have some alright guys to face, even if they are masic beyond any kind of help.

Me:  They still couldn’t handle the Stampede!  Besides, I been away too long.  You know how fuckin’ retarded those fans are.  Legends go away for a month, and everybody forgets who they are.  I don’t wanna hafta fight up from the bottom, cause we both know that’s beneath me.  I deserve to be right at the top, where a King rightfully should be.

Veronica:  I know, baby.  I know.  Have you ever thought about how pulling some worthless piece of crap wrestler from obscurity and making them relevant would help your career?  I mean, it would show just how important you really are to the company.

I sit there for a second, because my girlfriend usually doesn’t have the greatest ideas, but this one is the shit.  I kiss her on the cheek before jumping out of bed to grab my phone off of the nightstand.

Me:  Mickey Carroll!  He’s the most worthless piece of shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of workin’ with!  He stays drunk.  His work ethic is shit.  His swag is abysmal.  For someone with such an interestin’ backstory, his personality is about as amusin’ as a drunk paint drying on a wall of shit!  He’s perfect!

So, that’s the pitch I gave him, and I was shocked when he told me to “Sod off” and a bunch of other kinda British, kinda Cockney, kinda Irish, but very freakin’ drunk shit I ain’t even tryin’ to understand.  Anyone would be bendin’ over backwards to work with me, but this guy earned my respect when he told me to “Take the piss, ye mingin’ muppet.”  Again, I don’t understand it, but it sounded kinda bad.

Eventually me and him came to an agreement.  Pretty much everybody in SCW suuuuucks, save for my boy J2H, so we need to get in there and teach these vampires and fuckboys some respect.  It turns out too, that Mickey Carroll knows this whole new level of drunk, where it’s like steppin’ into another dimension.  It costs a lot of money, and takes a lot of dedication, but we understand each other a lot better now.

So, long story short, ‘cause I got plenty of better things to be doin’, like Veronica Taylor *ZIIIIING!* I should be sayin’ a bunch of shit right now about our match comin’ up.  Truth is, I don’t really give a fuck about that match.  We already beat Andy G, and he’s more interestin’ than Ivan D.  Dax Beckett is more interestin’ than both of them combined, and he ain’t even worth our time.  What else is there to prove?  Bad Boys rule supreme over Dying Breed, and then we can move on to bigger and better things.  Soon enough, I might even be a two time SCW World Tag Team Champion…  Watch out Jet City...

 Giani:  I’ve found someone else… I’m afraid I’m gonna have to demote ya to “side bae” status.

J2H:  Hey, that’s MY role, remember?

Giani and J2h laugh as he kicks a smirking Giani lightly.  Giani leans over and begins puckering his lips as J2H fends off the beast of a man by pressing his fists against Giani’s chest.  Giani reaches around and pops J2H in the side of the head as he topples over on top of him, but the horsing around is quickly interrupted by the sound of Ringo’s irritated voice.

Ringo:  I don’t know which is worse, the fact that you’re even humoring those half-wits relentless comments, or the fact that you’re jumping into another failed attempt at lust disguising itself as love.

Giani:  What can I say?  That new haircut makes J look pretty.

J2H:  You flatter me so… fucking asshole…

J2H drives an elbow into Giani’s stomach before shoving him off.  Ringo glares at the two with even more contempt in his eyes as he gets closer.  Both men straighten up as Ringo snatches the phone out of Giani’s hand.  He stares at the screen as the disgust almost seems to boil over.

Ringo:  You have got to be kidding me?  Out of all of the ladies you encounter on a regular basis, you had to pick one of the worst options imaginable?

Giani:  But not the worst, so ya gotta give me some credit there.

Ringo:  It’s birds of a feather.  You’re feeding into the constant melodrama of this place, and it’s costing you focus.  Come to your senses before the consequences of your actions comes up and bites you on the ass.

Ringo tosses the phone back at Giani, who catches it, but fumbles with it a little before finally securing it.  Ringo turns around and walks back over to the window as Giani quietly mocks him behind his back  J2H chuckles, and the two straighten up as Ringo looks back at them.  Giani glares right back at Ringo in a form of justification.

Giani:  Look, I’m good at handlin’ bullshit.  Each time I went out in front of the fuckin’ fans, kissin’ their asses, I felt a piece of myself die.  Every freakin’ time, dawg…  Every time I looked at that handicap of a masked freak as he followed me around like a puppy dog, twirlin’ the knife around behind my back, smilin’ in his face, I stayed focused.  I pulled awf one uh the greatest screw jobs in wrestlin’ history! I gave a win to Sean Jackson on my return when I coulda knocked him flat on his fuckin’ back in two seconds… for you!  All while I was seein’ my boo, so don’t fuckin’ tell me I can’t focus and contribute, ‘cause I been doin’ it since the second I left New Jersey, aight bro?

Ringo never once flinches or falters as he allows Giani his outburst without interruption.  The look on his face suggests that he doesn’t like a single word of what Giani is saying, but he doesn’t give the satisfaction of a reaction, that is until Giani finishes.  He cracks a wicked smile and claps his hands together with some enthusiasm.

Ringo: Bravo, Giani.  Your charisma and your conviction are two of the three reasons we wanted you as our third and final member.  We are a well oiled machine, each with our own function within this group.  So long as you continue to pull your weight, I could not care less where you stick your dick.

Ringo cracks a forced smile that blatantly comes across to Giani as such.  He rolls his eyes as he returns his focus back to his phone, typing away at it.  However, he seems a bit distracted by Ringo’s recent words as his eyes lift ever so slightly from the phone.  His fingers slow down as he thinks it over for a moment as we fade…

{Cut Scene: Giani Di Luca}

We fade in to the green room one last time to see a vacant director’s chair.  Instead of the Fuhgeddaboudit background being present, it has been replaced by the Sin City Wrestling logo plastered over the Las Vegas Skyline.  We’re left to focus on this image for a moment before the sound of a door is heard opening.  A shadow flashes across the screen just seconds before Giani Di Luca appears. He stands in front of the camera with his back facing the screen.  We are left with only the sight of a tight fitting black t-shirt clinging to his back, as his jeans hug his backside.  The more we expect Giani to take his seat and give us his thoughts, the longer he seems to enjoy showing us his ass, both literally and figuratively.  He sways from one side to the other as he tucks his fingers between his jeans and his hips.  Clearing his throat, he threatens with a slight tug, causing many to look away while others stare as if it were a train wreck in motion, unable to pry their eyes away.  He sighs out a bit of a laugh as he takes two steps forward, still holding on to his waist line as he slowly turns around to show off the phrase “#Rise” on the front of his t-shirt.  He looks down at the print, staring at it for a moment before he slowly looks up, one eye squinting slightly as he nods his head.  He takes two steps backward before finally letting go of his jeans as he grabs onto the arms of the chair, lowering himself down into it.  He looks over to a small plastic bag that is taped to the left arm of the chair, and he takes it off, opening it as he raises his gaze to the camera.

Giani:  Gotcha…  I bet each and every one uh ya thought you was gonna get to see my gloriously golden ass.  Nah, nah, that’s reserved for one person, and one person only.  Ringo!  Huh?

Giani squints his eyes in faux confusion as he looks around the room for the culprit, despite each of us seeing him move his lips with the high pitched, yet quite awkwardly gritty voice that interrupted him.  He slowly shakes his head as he looks back to the camera, forcing confusion on his face before waving it off. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a glue stick, and some bits of colored thread.

Giani:  Nah, ya see, I ain’t into showin’ my ass publicly, unlike some people around this place.  I don’t enjoy puffin’ my feathers out and struttin’ like a freakin’ peacock around this place. See, unlike our opponents for this week, I don’t say thin’s just to hear myself tawk.  Bullshit! What the…?  Seriously, whoever that is needs to cut it out.  I’m tryin’ to cut a promo here.

Giani narrows his eyes again as he studies the room, all while his hand is fumbling around with the contents of the bag.  He pulls a piece of black cloth out of the bag as he slides it over his left arm, fitting it snugly around his wrist.  He pulls out another piece of grey cloth and pulls it over his right arm, leaving us to ponder something.

Giani:  See, that ain’t what Power Play is awl about.  Yeah, yeah, ya probably thinkin’ “Yay, another revolution!”  Good fuh you, ya got ears and the ability to process sounds into thoughts.

Giani slowly claps his hands together, however his usual energy seems to be lacking despite his ever-present arrogance.  He stops clapping as he fumbles around with the materials of the bag once more.

Giani:  Revolution is the closest word to describe this movement in a way that ya tiny minds can comprehend.  This ain’t a rebellion, it ain’t about takin’ titles and attention.  We gives not a single fuck about any uh that.  Nah, see this sport is ruined by the Kelly Kelly movement of models as wrestlers, and asshole struttin’ around like keyboard warriors.  When ya get enough uh them around, and they start tearin’ each other down, it’s easy to see that some might come to the conclusion that people like Player Club got some talent.  I know I don’t always see eye to eye with the fans, but I can understand where they’re comin’ from. ”Bae!”  What?  â€BAE!  He’s here!  Lets crawl on his nutsack!”  Whoa, waitaminuhhhh…  No, no way!

Giani lifts his left arm up to eye level as he stares at it for a second, inspecting it.  He raises one eyebrow as his lips purse in a show of faux disgust and confusion as he motions with his head toward the mess of thread on his hand.  He slowly turns his hand to show a hand puppet with googly eyes and yellow threads glued to the hand to fashion a short haircut, as well as a bit of a five o’clock shadow drawn around the mouth.  The hand moves up and down as the animated voice continues once more.

”Caleb”:  Now we got his attention, JT.  He can’t hide from us now, we’re in the flesh.

Giani:  Yeah, and twice as annoyin’… Fuck outta here, dawg…

”JT”:  Don’t talk to bae that way!

Giani:  Whoa, double teamin’ on me?  Seriously bro?  The odds ain’t exactly even here.

Giani raises his right hand now to show off a similar hand puppet with longer brown threads on top of the head, and less stubble drawn around the mouth.  He raises his eyebrows in a sense of surrender as he backs his face up slightly.

Giani:  Damn, I guess handicap matches ya M.O. spot on, but ya couldn’t cut me a little slack here, guys?

”JT”:  No!  We won’t rest until we look like God’s gift to wrestling.

Giani:  Ahhh, gotcha.  That sucks though.

”Caleb”:  You suck! Wait, how does that suck?

Both puppets turn to face Giani bobbing their heads from side to side as they wait for an answer.  Giani strokes his chin as he clinches his teeth together in a display of compassion.  He groans as he tries to figure out a nice way of saying what he’s thinking.

Giani:  Well, it sucks ‘cause that ain’t gonna be happenin’ any time soon, no matter how many people ya clobber from behind.  Not as long as Power Play’s around here.  This is our yard, and we don’t like ya dawgs rollin’ up in our yard like this.

”Caleb”:  In the animal kingdom, the canine males run the show, and you three are nothing more than bitches.

Giani:  Bitches?  Really now?  Tawk about an easy out, bro. See, from where I’m standin’ it seems like there are only two bitches in the room right now.

”Caleb”:  Really?  That’s an “I’m rubber, you’re glue” argument.  That’s worse than us.  Look everybody, Giani made a mistake.  Let’s laugh at him!

As fake laughter fills the room, both hand puppets open their mouths and tilt backward a bit to add motion to the poor attempt at laughter.  Giani nods his head as if he is agreeing with them at first, but then he opens his mouth in preparation to say something, but lets the laughter linger for a second longer.

Giani:  No, no, gimme a minute to explain.  Don’t jump to pointin’ out flaws, cause when they ain’t actually there, it makes ya look like dumbasses.  I know how precious ya reputations are for bein’ right are to ya…  Nah, see… What do bitches do?  They run in packs, sniffin’ each others asses…

”Caleb”:  But you’re in a group too!  Two mistakes!  Are you guys seein’ this???

Giani:  Fuck, ya tawk an awful lot dontcha?  See, this is a list kinda thin’ where I say more than one thin’ so maybe ya could shut ya gloryholes for a second and let me finish?

The mouths of the puppets immediately zip as they turn to look at Giani directly.  Giani looks from “Caleb” to “JT” waiting for them to come up with some sort of response.  When one doesn’t come, Giani sighs in satisfaction before continuing.

Giani:  They run in packs, sniff each others asses… But ya know what else is evidence of a bitch?  Lacking male genitals.  I mean, listen to that pussy ass voice of yours, Caleb.  I… I can’t even look atcha without wonderin’ when ya gonna lean over and start lickin’ ya own vagina, no care for who ever else is around…

”Caleb”:  That’s not original at all!

Giani:  Maybe not, but that doesn’t make it any less true.  Now, since I know ya can’t pay attention to thin’s for very long, I’m gonna skip ahead to the last sure tell sign that ya definitely a couple uh bitches… Awl ya fuckin’ do is yap.  Yap, yap, yap, yap!  Seriously!  I might actually take ya serious if ya backed up awl that big tawk ya do, but ya don’t!  Ya got ya asses kicked by a magician and a retard just last week!  That sounds like somethin’ that would happen at a special needs kid’s birthday party, not inside of a wrestlin’ ring!  Ya can’t do shit unless ya attack from behind, and it’s freakin’ sad, broski’s.  Now, I didn’t wanna sit here and fight with ya, ‘cause I prefer to handle my beef in the ring, not with words, or on public forums like a cyber gangsta.  I’ll leave that to you two…

”Caleb”:  That’s because you’re an idiot.  You’re a tool, and you follow whatever your friends do.

Giani raises an eyebrow as he looks at the Caleb hand puppet, getting just inches from its face.  He glares at it with a sense of exaggerated anger in his eyes as he lets that thought linger for a moment.  He slowly returns his gaze back to the camera, shaking his head from side to side as he scoffs at the notion.

Giani:  Just ‘cause I’m from Jersey, everyone figures I’m mentally challenged.  Ya think I’m a fuckin’ idiot.  I could sit here and get mad, defend my intelligence, but that’s not gonna change any opinions.

Giani shrugs his shoulders as he quickly glances to each of the hand puppets.  As he looks from “Caleb” to “JT”, “JT” tilts his head back to say something.

”JT”:  The more you argue it, the more of a dumbass you start to look like.

Giani shakes his head before looking over at “Caleb” with a look of concern.  He leans down, and in a low toned voice, yet still very audible, he whispers to it.

Giani:  Dawg, I don’t mean to butt in on ya business, but did ya give ya bitch permission to speak?  He’s over here mouthin’ off like I give a good God Damn.

”Caleb”:  He’s not my bitch, he’s my friend!

Giani:  Not ya bitch?  Coulda fooled me, dawg… I see how this works.  Ya the 21st century woman in the relationship, right?  The one who wears the pants, works, and bosses her pussy of a husband around while screamin’ nonsense about women’s right instead of havin’ a hot dinner on the table for her husband when he gets in?  Fuck, penis envy’s gotta be a bitch, am I right?

”JT”:  That’s misogynistic!  He’s not a bitch, either!

There is a soft coo that comes from Giani as a sweet smile comes across his face.  He lets go of the Caleb puppet pose just long enough to reach over and pet the JT puppet’s head tenderly, letting the warmth of the moment linger.

Giani:  That’s cute.  Really fuckin’ special, bro.  Defendin’ ya boo like that warms my freakin’ heart.  So, lemme guess.  Ya take turns crammin’ the German in the mudpit?  Nah, I know I came across as a homophone last week, but I seriously wanna know the deal here. I never understood how ya could get any pleasure outta havin’ a dude shove his sausage in ya dirt box, bro.  Do ya have to flip a coin to see whose turn it is to pretend to be the man, or…?

”Caleb”: Rock, Paper, Scissors… Shit!

”JT”:  You told him our secret!

Giani:  Secret?  The Colonel’s recipe is a secret.  The amount of combined botox between the Mean Girls is a secret.  Ya unorthodox prostate exams is anythin’ but a secret!

Giani laughs outwardly at the absurdity he finds in “JT’s” comment as he shakes his head.  He tries to recompose himself, but this takes a moment.  Once he finally does, he looks down at the puppets with contempt in his eyes.

Giani:  Look, I’m gonna be honest here.  I don’t like many people.  I’m not gonna blow smoke up people’s asses to make them think I do, not without bigger purpose.  See, Equinox… that was part of the plan.  The fans had to witness the downfall of one of their favorites to understand our reach, our potential.  That was the first, and the last time that I ever pretended to like someone I couldn’t stand.  You two… you’re different.

”Caleb”:  You mean… you like us?  You really, REAAALLLLLLLY like us, Giani?

Giani:  Hahaha… no.  No, not even a little dawg.  Nah, see I thought the two uh ya coulda been some awright dudes.  There was some common ground.  I tried to play nice, be friendly guy, but then somethin’ happened.  Ya took the last piece of common courtesy I had in me, and ya took advantage of it.  Ya tried hittin’ up my friend, Bianca.  Ya disrespected me in the process.  Ya disrespected my boy, Ringo.  That shit don’t fly with me.  That went out the window real fast, bro… Real freakin’ fast…  It’s not so much that I don’t like ya…  It’s more that I despise ya… I might even loathe the sound of ya freakin’ names.

Giani looks down at the puppets, his fists tightening as he does.  He slowly releases the pose, disbanding the puppets in the process.  He reaches over and pulls the suits off of his arms before picking pieces of the puppets from off of his hand as he gets rather serious, rather quickly.

Giani:  I feel bad for Hydro, ‘cause he’s decided to associate with the Ambiguously Gay Duo, commitin’ career suicide in the earliest stage.  For a fuckin’ pot head, let’s hope he’s smart enough to leave this beef where it belongs… between the four of us.  If not, we got an equalizer of our own.  But, unlike Players Club, Power Play don’t need it.  We don’t need dirty tactics to pull awf wins.  You’ve seen it in singles action, but this week, we’ve been given the opportunity to show how well we work together.  Laugh awl ya want, but we’ll find out on Sunday, won’t we?

Giani folds his hands together, rubbing his thumbs against the black markings on his hands, rubbing the ink off, though he is more focused on what he is saying that cleaning himself up at this point.

Giani:  Go ahead, laugh.  Call me awl the five names ya can think of.  Make ya unoriginal, retarded fuckin’ gay jokes on Twitter.  Insult my intelligence and my style awl ya want.  No, ya got my permission, go for it.  Knock ya’selves out… While ya askin’ ya’self questions on ask fm to make it look like people actually give a shit what ya think… while tappin’ away at the keyboard on ya iPhones, actin’ hard… I’m in the gym trainin’.  I’m out workin’ up a sweat with my girl.  I’m doin’ things that actually benefit my body, thin’s that prepare me for the ring.  I’m not passin’ blunts around with my boys, bakin’ brownies like a gay ass Martha Stewart, or tweetin’ my every “profound” slash retarded, pointless thought for the world to read.  That’s why I’m boss.  That’s why people associate my name with beast mode.  I get results.  I’m a former SCW Heavyweight Champion with a three month reign.  Whether people love me or hate me, they can’t deny me.  The same cannot be said for the two uh ya, though.

Giani shrugs his shoulders, trying to play it cool despite the intensity radiating from his dark eyes.  He runs his hand over his hair, staring at his reflection in the camera lens.  Once he is satisfied with the state of his hair, he allows himself to continue.

Giani:  Show off, bro.  Cheese that shit up.  It’s awright, I ain’t gonna stop ya. Strut like the peacocks ya are.  Walk into Climax Control with that vanity and confidence in abundance, showin’ off for everyone… Enjoy it.  Savor it… ‘cause as soon as “Power” hits them speakers, the wolves are comin’ out.  That’s when shit gets real, boys.  That’s when awl the Twitter rants disappear.  That cheese gets slapped clean awf ya faces.  All that big tawk ya doin’ won’t mean a thin’ when ya come face to face with me and Ringo.  This pack is gonna be on the attack, and ain’t a fuckin’ thin’ ya can do about it but sit back and take it… a stance that the both of ya familiar with, as I understand.  Look, I could sit here awl day pokin’ holes in ya flawed logic, but at the end of the day, our business is not about the words that are said, but the actions that back them up.  Toss ya money around awl ya like, but I make money… money don’t make me.  That’s the problem here.  Two spoiled little kids thinkin’ they are entitled to shit when they ain’t done nothin’ since steppin’ foot in Sin City Wrestlin’.  I hate to break it to ya, but that ain’t gonna change come Sunday.  The only difference is that ya don’t gotta be embarrassed that ya lost to Power Play.  Ya ain’t the first, and damn sure won’t be the last.  Let that sink in for a bit.  Stew in it, ladies.  I’m gonna hit the gym and do what wrestlers do… train.  Fuhgeddaboudit!

With that, Giani holds up to fingers to salute them before pushing himself out of his seat.  He steps closer to the screen, letting the “#Rise” phrase take over the entire screen.  He lets it sink in for a few seconds, jutting his thumbs toward it before flicking his fingers underneath his chin in the ultimate showing of disrespect.  With that, he turns and walks out of the shot as we immediately fade to fuzz, and then to blackness.

{End Cut Scene}

{21st Century Schizoid Man}

[fin]

 {{Rise}}

{21st Century Schizoid Man!}

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We fade to the inside of Michie Stadium of West Point, New York… the site of Sin City Wrestling’s last Super Card, High Stakes IV.  This was arguably one of SCW’s biggest shows, with some of the biggest matches, filled to capacity with high spots all around.  People said that this show made a few names into household names.  As many pieces of history that went down, there was one moment that everyone is still talking about, even on this very day…

However, tonight, the venue is quite silent.  Shadows are cast over the field where many fans packed in just three weeks ago, letting the heat of the spotlights keep them warm on the cold night.  Tonight, there isn’t a single soul, and that’s counting the warm body we see walking through the shadows of the field.  Once he reaches the center of the field, one set of lights flash on, illuminating the former Heavyweight and Tag Team Champion of SCW.  Tonight, he stands in a 2014 Year of the Stallion t-shirt, depicting a black horse, done in the Chinese Zodiac fashion.  He is wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans, and a white belt, as well as flashy white sneakers.  His iced out cross hangs from his neck as he pushes his South Pole sunglasses off of his face, and into his neatly done faux hawk.  His eyes are narrowed as he looks straight ahead at the camera.

Giani:  Fuck the bullshit…

Giani narrows his eyes further as his nostrils flare up.  His jaw clinches tightly as his warm breath sends steam coming from his mouth, forming a light cloud that blows away in the blustery wind.  He lifts his head up, but stares down his broad nose at the camera, disgust plastered all across his face.

Giani:  â€¦ it’s time for some straight talk.  We got some assholes runnin’ their mouths on Twitter about some gay fantasy they got involvin’ me and Ringo. I tried to play nice and politically correct, but let me tell ya one thin’… I don’t play for that team, bro’s.  I like the pussy.  The pink cookie, the hoo-hoo… vagina if yaknowhatimsayin’…?

Giani winks playfully as if he were taunting his targets from afar, though this is not how he prefers to address his problems, but this will have to do for now.  He shrugs his shoulders up for a second and then waves it off.

Giani:  Nah… of course ya don’t.  Look, I ain’t callin’ ya faggots. Far be it from me to say what ya are.  Oh, oh… sorry, ya didn’t like that phrasin’?  Does fudge packer work better for ya?  No?  Butt pirate?  Ass master?  Fairy?  Pansy?  Homo?  Bum boy?  Damn, you must be pretty sensitive, but what can ya expect from the fairer spectrum of humanity?  No wonder The Players Club came with Delia Darlin’s personal stamp of approval.  She’s the Queen of the Queers, so I guess it all adds up now.

Giani crosses his arms over his chest as he sneers at the camera.  He lets out his obnoxious signature laugh as he stares across the field and directly into the camera as it zooms in on his face.

Giani:  Look, I ain’t callin’ ya fellas Tinkerbell’s.  All I’m sayin’ is that it must be natural to start diggin’ the D when ya can’t get the V.  Do the three of ya even got one popped cherry to ya names?  Look, I’m bein’ fair.  One between the three of ya would suffice.  No?  Alright then.  I don’t care if ya fuck women, dudes, stuffed animals, farm animals… That ain’t none uh my business.  Get ya Bad Bromance on, kids.  But, uh… one thing… Leave me and my crew out ya fantasies. Look, I get it… we’re attractive guys. I mean, we knee deep in cooch at all times. I know I can’t turn the corner without havin’ a piece of pink berry pie up in my face.  Just stop inserting us into ya brunchin’, cock munchin’ fantasies.  If ya stop projectin’ ya own insecurities onto us on a public forum, then I might consider not kickin’ ya asses in the near future.  Do we got a deal, bitch boys?

Giani tilts his head to the side as if he were waiting for an answer from The Players Club.  After a minute, when an answer doesn’t come, he shakes his head before looking down at his feet.

Giani:  Look, just three weeks ago, these ass hats stepped foot into SCW, and in true bitch fashion, they triple teamed some dude from behind. At least they was kind enough to use lube, if ya count the leftovers from their ménage a trios that took place just moments before the attack, of course.  See, that’s one benefit of bein’ part of Power Play.  We ain’t busy watchin’ each other’s front.  We got each other’s backs.  That’s how a team should work.

Giani reaches down to the ground, picking up a bottle of Smart Water, as is obligatory any time he has the cameras on him.  He pops open the sports cap and sprays some into his mouth before closing the cap and holding it label out.

Giani:  Speakin’ of High Stakes 4, there’s a question eatin’ people alive like a zombie horde.  Why did I turn on Equinox?  I mean, that was THE question of the night, right?  Nobody saw that comin’.  That poof, Christian Underwood, can say he saw it comin’ from a mile away, but ya know gays and their need to get the last word in, right?  They all gotta be Miss Cleo’s er somethin’.  Only three people saw that comin’, and it was me, J2H, and Mister JN Ringo.  I can tell ya first hand, from the look on Equinox’s face when I caught him in mid air, that look of confusion that quickly turned into betrayal, seconds before I knocked him unconscious… he damn sure wasn’t expectin’ it.

Giani chuckles to himself as he reenacts catching Equinox before slamming him down to the mat.  He walks with his patented swagger around what we can only assume he is imagining is the ring.  He then drops down to the ground and does three push ups, one for each count.

Giani:  My lawyers will be in touch with upper management, because I will be named when people talk about Triple Crown Champions of Sin City Wrestlin’.  But, that’s beside the point, right?  We’re tawkin’ about Equinox.  The freak who has to hide behind a mask.  The idiot who has to pretend he got mental problems so that he can stand out from the crowd by inventin’ new catch phrases every week.  Are your fans Monsters?  Jokers?  Ghosts? Goblins?  The fuck, kid?  Stick with one…

Giani shakes his head as he rolls his eyes.  He takes a few steps closer to the camera, running his hand over his face as he wipes the amusement right off.  With a serious expression now etched across his face, he puffs his chest out and glances down at his watch Rolex before he stares right into the camera.

Giani:  Ya know, it’s funny when ya buy a lightweight a drink, they open up about all kinds of useful information.  Pass the tweaker a pipe, and he can handle that shit, but one shot of Jack Daniels put some hair on his bawls, and I was his best fuckin’ friend in the world.  I heard lots of secrets that cost him his cherished Roulette Championship right here, exactly five hundred and four hours ago, to the minute.  We’re gonna see a repeat in just a few days at Climax Control 100 when I knock his ass out with the Jersey Turnpike, and pin him for the one, two, three.  I’ll end his dreams of ever gettin’ that title back around his waist, I promise ya that.  But, it ain’t his fault I did what I did.  He was just the  catalyst for our plan.  Nah, it wasn’t his fault…

Giani nods his head as if there is a slight bit of regret attacking his conscience.  He looks away from the camera, as he bites at his bottom lip, trying to stop the words from coming out.  However, in true Giani fashion, he fails miserably.  But, by the time it happens, he doesn’t care.  He wants to rub it in as he stares deep into the camera, his dark brown eyes almost seeming glassy and vacant.

Giani: … it was your fawlt.  Every one uh ya, the fans.  YOU did it.  I’m Giani Di Freakin’ Luca!  I’m the Italian Stallion!  The King of Kings!  The Reflection of Perfection!  I feel like I gotta repeat myself here, but I got a point, I promise.  I never said you was gonna like it, but there’s a point nevertheless.  You gave me back the confidence I needed to win a Number One Contendership to the SCW Heavyweight Championship.  You forgave me for becomin’ the asshole I was… the asshole I am…  You let me redeem myself.  I was so thankful for the opportunity to become a better person.  I repaid ya by winnin’ an “I Quit” match against the champion, Goth.  I carried that belt for somethin’ like three months… for you!  We had a good time, didn’t we?  I was YOUR champion.  Then, I came up a little short against Simon Jones… I had a hard time with that loss.  I felt like I let y’all down.  I beat myself up for months over that.  I couldn’t show my face cause I let down the people who helped me improve.  It took a lot to get past that shit, dawg…

Giani narrows his eyes as if he feels the pain rushing back once again.  Bitterness comes over his face as he sneers spitefully at the camera.  He shakes his head as he laughs in pure frustration.

Giani:  Ya know what helped me get over that?  When I looked around, and noticed no one gave a shit I was gone.  My mentor was the only one who checked up on me.  Now, you fuckers ran him off with ya Flavor of the Month bullshit attitude.  He can blame some ugly drag queens all he wants, but it was all of his hard work gettin’ shit on by you douchebags that sent him packin’.  He’ll deny it, but there’s a reason he was pulled from all Climax Control 100 promotional materials.  It wasn’t cause he’s buildin’ a nursery for his new bundle of joy.  It’s cause as soon as some fresh set of pecks flexes in front of ya, ya forgot about everythin’ he did for this piece of shit promotion.  He tried to play the nice guy, but guess what?  He nearly blew his brains out in the locker room, week in and week out while watchin’ ya cheer for a bunch of cocky pricks like Drake Green, Matthew “Crash” Carson, Jamie Dean, Aaron Matthews, Ben Jordan… the list goes on and on, and on…  You shit on his accomplishments, just like ya shit on mine.  Hell, by shittin’ on mine, you shit on his yet again!

Giani spits venoms at the camera as he grows more and more angry.  He balls up his fists, ready to tackle the cameraman, but with one shake of the fists, he closes his eyes and collects himself somewhat as he growls under his breath.

Giani:  I had a meetin’ with James, and he told me that this Ringo cat was legit.  I didn’t trust that, but the beauty of this arrangement is that I didn’t have to.  I had to trust that Equinox would be a good little sheep while I tested out the waters of Power Play.  I almost had a change of heart though. I nearly decided to come back and be ya next flavor of the month… until the Year End Awards came around.  I got two nominations; Man of the Year, and Match of the Year with Goth.  I knew you would vote for Drake. It’s cool, he comes out every week and kisses ya ass.  He got his neck snapped like a twig courtesy of Sean Jackson, and he still came back to fight for ya.  I got it… but the match though…….

Giani lets that thought linger for a moment as he can see the massacre that took place.  The property damage that came out of his and Goth’s check left them with next to nothing… nothing but a championship belt that Giani left with.  The epic match seems to fly through his head within ten seconds before he snaps back to reality.

Giani:  But ya disgustin’ perverts voted for some chicks bleedin’ all over the ring, like they don’t do that once a month anyway…  Forget tearin’ up a venue, and leavin’ twice as much blood smeared across the walls backstage, the bruised bones, busted ribs, busted noses, and Goth’s make up replacement costs… Let’s vote for somethin’ that looks like a Suicide Girls promotional video, ya fuckin’ freaks!  That right there...

Giani points right at the screen with both index fingers as his voice raises drastically.

Giani:  THAT was the final straw.  I knew from that moment on that I was gonna fuck Equinox over.  I was gonna leave him knocked out in the ring as a way to show solidarity with my brothers… BROTHERS… of Power Play.  So, while ya busy pointin’ the finger at me, look at the three pointin’ right back atcha.  Instead of playin’ politics, you’re gonna have to play… Power!

Giani nods his head with a bit of an evil grin on his face as he chuckles. He waves off the camera as he shakes his head, taking a moment to enjoy his smart ass comment.  He closes his eyes as the moment fades.  When he finally comes back to, he gets serious once more.

Giani:  Look, I spent enough time tawkin’ about you.  That’s about five minutes more of my attention than you assholes deserve.  Not that Equinox deserves any more of it than I’ve already given him, but he’s my opponent.  I wonder what he thinks of the venue I chose.  See, I can play mind games too. You do remember who mentored me, right?  If not, rewind a few minutes, and you should be able to put two and two together, bro.  The master of mind games taught me a lot of tricks.  But, unlike you, Equinox, everythin’ I do has a purpose. I don’t do stuff just to draw attention to myself.  I don’t run around actin’ a fuckin’ fool, with no rhyme or reason to anythin’ I do.  I want you to watch this from beginnin’ to end, kid.  I want ya to take a look around this stadium, and imagine all of the fans screamin’ our names.  I want you to remember leapin’ off of that turnbuckle, right over there… I know ya see it ya fuckin’ looney toon…

Giani points behind himself as he stares at the imaginary turnbuckle he speaks of.  He pauses so to give Equinox a second to envision it, and replay the events of High Stakes 4 in his mind.  Once he thinks Equinox has done so, he turns back to the camera, but he takes a few steps back.

Giani:  I want ya to feel the cool air flyin’ through ya nappy hair as ya soar through the air, with a collision course set for J2H.  Do ya feel it yet?  Good, now I want ya to close ya eyes just like ya did when you was just a few feet from crashin’ into my brother.  Do ya remember that feelin’?  That taste of victory on the tip of ya tongue?  That sweet, savory taste like the nectar of the Gods?  Your tongue searches ya entire mouth, tryin’ to lap it awl up, until ya swore ya got hit by a freakin’ bus.

Giani lunges forward with all of his weight, scooping up an imaginary Equinox.  He turns around to face the camera once again, his shoulder slumped over as he carries this imaginary foe toward the camera.

Giani:  Feel that confusion.  I must’ve been jokin’ right?  There’s no way someone who listened to ya deepest, darkest secrets could betray ya, right?  RIGHT?  Then, that sickening feelin’ washes over ya entire body when ya realize… I wasn’t playin’ around.  I was as serious as a freakin’ heart attack.  You looked over at the time table… at ya Roulette Championship, cause ya knew it was the last time you would see it.  It was goin’ back to where it belonged.  Then, I made ya wait.  Ya tried to struggle out of that Bear Hug, but ya just couldn’t. I was too powerful for ya.  Club all ya want, but I wasn’t gonna let ya go until I squeezed every last breath outta ya.  And just before ya passed out, I made sure you was aware enough to feel the final blow as I slammed ya down to the mat.  You was out cold, dawg…  Just like ya gonna be on Sunday.  I’ll make damn sure of it, kid.  So go on and tawk about how ya gonna get ya revenge on me at Climax Control 100. Spew that garbage on Twitter like it’s gonna change that fact, and I do mean FACT!

Giani’s eyes widen, but he seems to be enjoying himself as he drops down to the ground, hunched over the imaginary foe.  He mutters a few secret words to the turf below him, nodding his head as he keeps the secret for himself and Equinox only.  He slowly lifts his head as he stares back into the camera one last time.

Giani:  Think about it.  No one would blame ya if ya didn’t show up to the ring on Sunday, bro.  Well, the fans might.  Since ya don’t got gold anymore, they will start cheerin’ for the next flavor.  But, I will grant ya one last act of kindness, E-Dawg.  I won’t trash tawk ya for chickenin’ out.  I know what I’m capable of, and you do as well.  This is ya free pass.  Don’t show up, save me the effort of workin’ up a sweat to repeat old history.  I’ll let ya fade into the abyss like the nothin’ that ya are, and our beef will be over.  But… don’t take that as me chickenin’ out, cause I’ll gladly knock the fuck outta anyone stupid enough to cross me without givin’ it a second thought.  If ya do show up, I will take somethin’ away from ya.  Ya don’t got a title to take away, so maybe I’ll take away ya motor skills with my patented “Shufflin’” three punch combo.  Maybe I’ll take your ability to walk away with the Fin.  Or, maybe I’ll take ya mask so I can expose ya for the scared little bitch that ya are.  You’ve been warned, Equinox…

Giani does three slow push ups, mimicking the three count once more before pushing himself back up to his feet.  He looks down at the shirt he is wearing, and with a laugh, he rips the shirt down the middle in one quick motion.  He tosses it to the ground to reveal another white shirt with a black fist symbol on the center of his chest.  He nods his head, letting it linger for a second before he lifts his fist into the air.  As he does so, J2H and JN Ringo walk into the shot, fists raised, and the same shirt being displayed.  Giani looks to his left to see J2H.  J2H nods his head, prompting Giani to look to his right.  Ringo gives a firm nod as well, and then Giani looks up at his fist.  He loudly snaps his fingers as the lights shut off in the stadium, shrouding them in darkness once more as we fade.

{21st Century Schizoid Man!}

{fin}

 {Party Rock Anthem}

That’s right ladies and gentlemen… bro’s and ho’s… It’s time to beat up some beats! After the long wait, “Fuhgeddaboudit” finally returns on Sunday Night, immediately following the web cast of Sin City Wrestling’s Climax Control.  Everyone’s favorite guilty pleasure show, with more drama than a Mean Girls Twitter War, only you can fast forward this one!  Here is what you can look forward to for this season!

Dramatic music plays as the front door to the shore house opens up, showing Giani Di Luca walking through the door.  He has an all business look on his face as he sets his bags down on the ground next to him, staring at the other seven house mates for the summer, taking his time to stare at each and every one of them.  The music intensifies as we show a brief clip from about a year and a half ago, where Giani punches his bro, Tony, straight in the jaw while yelling that he’s the fuckin’ show and always was.  We fade back to the shore house to see Louie and Bianca staring with their mouths gaping wide in shock, waiting for him to explode on them once more.  He narrows his eyes as he stares at the crowd in front of him, his nostrils flaring out for a moment before he throws his hands up in the air.

Giani:  Ey!  Fuhgeddaboudit!

He smiles and does his obnoxious signature laugh, which causes his house mates to cheer and some of them crowd around him, giving him fist bumps and bro hugs galore.  Candy pushes past them and the small, slightly heavier girl jumps into Giani’s arms and covers his face in friendly kisses as she talks to him in Italian, before Dixie comes walking through the door, and everyone stares at her.

We switch to see the image of Giani and Dixie soaking in the hot tub in a rather intimate manner as Tony gets in, trying to come between the two.  Fast forward to a later point, and we see the two about ready to duke it out once again, but this time, it is Giani who is holding back his anger as best he can.

Giani:  Bro?  Bro, seriously, don’t push that button…

Tony:  Or what?  You gonna clock me again, assh*le?  C’mon! Prove to everyone that ya just in this for a (beep)in’ paycheck!

Giani:  Someone get this drunk fool off me, for real…

We see Dixie’s eyes widen as she stares from the window, watching Giani lowering his head in shame before walking out of the door.  Before it closes, Dixie can be seen rushing toward it, shouting in Giani’s direction.

Dixie:  If you leave this porch, we’re through!  No one walks out on me like that, understand me?!

We fast forward to see Dixie smack Giani upside his head during what appears to be an argument.  Giani purses his lips as his eyes widen.  He shakes his head and waves her off as he storms off again.  Dixie is seen crying inside of the shore house much later, and Giani walks back inside, leaning on the door frame.

Giani:  No girl has ever… EVER put her (beep)in’ hands on me before. And no girl ever will again.  I don’t disrespect you by puttin’ my hands on you, so don’t disrespect me that way!

Dixie:  I’m sorry!

The two cuddle in their bed, before we fast forward to a date night with the two on the Boardwalk.  Right outside of the Ferris Wheel, Giani kneels down in front of Dixie, reaching into his cheesy blazer jacket before pulling out a black box.

Dixie:  Are… are you serious right now?

Giani:  Dixie Waters… will you do me the honors of…

We immediately cut out on Dixie’s shocked face as the intro to the show starts.

FUHGEDDABOUDIT!

{Everyday I’m Shufflin’}

“Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO plays loudly as we see clips, introducing the cast members for this season of Fuhgeddaboudit.  First up, we see Giani Di Luca partying it up in various clubs around the Jersey Shore, mixed with a few spots of his wrestling career from BACW and more notably SCW with his signature laugh echoing in the background.  We’re followed up by the cold and calculated Bianca Santora, confronting Carla, waving her finger and pointing, digging her finger into her chest, followed by a clip of her getting into a catfight inside of Club Karma.  Then Ricky Mancini is seen holding his arms out with a dumbfounded look as a girl actually turns him down.  We then see him whipping his shirt around above his head at the Beachside Bar to the beat of the music. We switch over to Candy Constantino who is getting in Bianca’s face, despite her size disadvantage, refusing the back down.  She then can be seen doing a table dance on the rooftop hang out before falling off and laughing.  Tony Esposito comes up next with clips of him and Giani working out in the gym while Giani trains.  We then see him flirting with some girls on the Boardwalk as they fall for every line of his.  Next up, we see Toni Colombo reeling in the men with her extra short skirt and very revealing top as she dances inside Club Karma.  She bends over and does the Jersey Turnpike dance move on one guy who loves every minute of it.  Next up, we see Louie Rossi emptying a container of Nair into a bottle of shampoo while holding one finger up to his lips and smiling.  He tightens the cap and then walks out of the bathroom as Giani walks in with a towel.  Louie smiles and tries to contain his laughter as he quickly walks out.  We then see a clip of him wearing a fedora and sitting on a lounge inside of a club while his appeal seems to attract a few ladies. Next, we see Carla Giordano’s infamous strip tease, censored of course.  Later on, we see her running into her room, embarrassed of her actions as Toni follows to comfort her.  Last up, we see quick flashes of Dixie Waters and Barry Goldstein.  Dixie is seen walking the Boardwalk with Giani, kissing him by the Ferris Wheel, while Barry can be seen shouting into his office phone, slamming the receiver down before looking over to Giani, shaking his head with a fake smile.  The intro ends with Giani shouting “Fuhgeddaboudit!” followed by his infamous laugh.

{{Scene One:  The Arrival}}

Who doesn’t love a good reunion?  Especially one that brings everyone back to their hometown for a summer filled with shameless partying, sex, drama, and all the gritty, dirty deeds that go along with a good time.  Normally, each season starts off with the various housemates showing up excitedly, laying claim to their favorite rooms, breaking out the liquor bottles, and kicking off the summer just right.  However, this time?  The mood is rather somber, as one by one, the housemates show up, looking nervous or upset to be here.  Carla, the quiet one, arrives first and sighs as she drops her bag by the front door.

Carla:  Hello?  Anybody here?  Geez, it’s startin’ to feel like I’m in a horruh movie er somethin’…

Her soft voice has a hint of sarcasm to it, which is something new for her.  She walks through the house, looking behind doors and under beds until she realizes that no one else is there.  She shrugs her shoulders and heads back to the foyer where she is startled to see the door fly open.  Ricky Mancini has about five duffel bags in his arms, but he drops them instantly as he opens his arms and Carla squeals before jumping into them giving him a kiss.

Ricky:  Baby, it’s been all of two days, but ya know I missed ya!  Can ya just feel the excitement in the air?

Carla:  Yeah no… Why did we even agree to this?

Ricky rubs his fingers together to signal that it’s all about the money.  She sighs as she slides out of his arms.  She motions toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Carla:  I hear we have competition for the single bed bedroom this summer. Giani’s got some blonde bimbo er somethin’ he’s bringin’ with ‘em.

Ricky’s face sours as he hears Giani’s name.  He grabs his bags as well as Carla’s and they head back to claim the room.  As they do, the door opens once more and Tony walks inside.  He’s got a couple bags, but they seem rather light.  He looks around, hearing Carla and Ricky’s voices in the background, but he remains quiet, stroking his hair as he drops his bags and walks over to the white leather couch.  He plops down on it and kicks his feet up on it while he watches the door intensely.  It doesn’t take long before Bianca comes walking in, only this time, she’s got company.  She has two personal assistants that have their arms full of her luggage as she carries a small purse, and a kennel.  She rolls her eyes as she looks at Tony, and then points to the back room.

Bianca:  The usual. Ya better know what I’m tawkin’ about, or I’m docking ya pay…

Bianca walks to the refrigerator and opens it as she pulls out a bottled water.  She unscrews the cap and then takes a sip as she looks over at the solemn Tony.  She giggles as she studies his misery, picking it apart carefully. Tony glares back at her, shaking his head.  She crinkles her nose and raises her shoulders as the giggling slowly fades into a long winded sigh.

Bianca:  Hi, Tony… Long time, no…

Tony:  Aww can it, B. I really ain’t in the mood for none-uh ya shit, aight?

Bianca shrugs her shoulders, though her eyes rest firmly on him for the time being.  He stares right back, and a tension builds.  Tony is wishing someone else would walk through the door and break this staring contest up, but no such luck.  Finally, Bianca gives in and breaks the silence for him.

Bianca:  So… ya must be so excited that ya get to spend the entire summer with ya little butt buddy, Giani, right?  I mean, he’s such a (beep)in’ swell guy, right?  He’s redeemed himself or some other bullsh…

Tony:  What part of shut ya (beep)in’ trap did ya not understand?  I got other things on my mind.

Bianca:  Oh… clearly…

Bianca gets a fake serious look on her face as she nods her head slowly.  She shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head as she flips him a blurred out bird, muttering what can only be assumed as “Get the (beep) outta here…” as she turns and walks away.  The door opens to see Candy come inside.  She looks around nervously, but that quickly fades as she screams excitedly.  She rushes over to Tony and does a one woman dog pile on him, even going as far as to cover his face in kisses.

Candy:  Oh my gawwwd, Tony… I’m surprised to see ya here, for real.  Ohhh, how ya been?

Tony:  Geez, Candy… Ya gonna hump my leg next?  Where were ya five minutes ago when her royal majesty arrived and decided to start bustin’ my bawls?

Candy groans as she looks over to see Bianca texting on her phone, acting as if she wasn’t paying attention, when clearly she is.  Candy sticks her tongue out at her and then rubs Tony’s cheek carefully.  Before they can fully catch up, Louie comes in and lets out a loud “Eyyyyyyyy!” as he drops his bag on the pile that has formed by the door.  He casually walks by, getting a fist bump from Tony, and a sweet hug from Candy.  He turns with his arms opened toward Bianca, whose eyes are still on her phone, and she scoffs, holding a hand up in his direction.  He carefully removes his hat, and then graciously bows to her like a true gentleman before laughing.  He goes walking through the halls as Bianca rolls her eyes as Toni walks in, kissing a guy before they begin softly talking.  Toni shoves him toward the door, motioning for him to leave before she joins the others in the living room.  Within a few minutes, everyone comes back to the living room to catch up, some hoping that this would conclude the cast reveals for the summer.

Tony:  Maybe we’ll be lucky and the jackass won’t even show up.

Candy:  Yeah…

Bianca:  I don’t know. Giani was the shinin’ star of the show, right?

Everyone looks up in shock as Bianca actually sounds genuine in saying this.  She glares at each of them individually, and without a word, she shrugs her shoulders, flipping her hair over her shoulder before returning her attention to the phone.

{Cut Scene: Bianca S.}

We fade quickly into the green room where we see Bianca sitting in the chair, ready to give us her most intimate thoughts, with the image of the Boardwalk displayed behind her.

Bianca:  I don’t know why everyone’s so down on Giani this summer.  It ain’t like he’s bein’ some fake little wannabe juicehead. He’s like a for real badass now.  Like “for real” for real.  He earned my respect last year.  I for one can’t wait to see him and meet his little blonde skank… I mean… girlfriend…

Bianca smirks and winks, with a cheesy star sparkling edited to the corner of her eye and pearly white teeth.  She giggles as we fade back.

{End Cut Scene}

Everyone is still staring at Bianca in shock while Tony gets up from his seat.  He walks over to the refrigerator and pulls it open to get a longneck beer from inside.  He cracks the top off and takes a long swig before looking right at Bianca.

Tony:  Where the (beep) did that come from, Drama Queen?  Are ya startin’ ya games early this year, or do ya got a problem with me?  That d(beep)head punched me in my (beep)in’ face, and everyone saw ya smilin’ in the corner like it was the most entertainin’ shit ya heard all year.

Bianca:  It wasn’t like that, Tony.  Believe me, it wasn’t like that.

Bianca shakes her head, holding her hands up innocently.  She looks around at everyone else who is rolling their eyes at her fakeness, and already plotting on how to avoid her for the entirety of the summer.  She finally looks back to Tony and then an evil grin comes over her face.

Bianca:  It wasn’t *air quotes* like… that.  It WAS that.  That shit was funny as hell, cause I thought ya head was gonna spin around like The Exorcist.  (Beep)in’ hilarious…

Tony:  You better hope that punk ass b*tch don’t decide to start some shit this summer, because I will put him back in his place!

Bianca:  Oh, like ya did at Karma last October?  Even with ya boys around, you didn’t do shit…

Tony:  I’ll handle that little b*tch, just you…

The door suddenly opens up, and the loud dramatic music starts up.  Giani walks in, and all eyes are on him.  No one makes a sound as Candy covers her mouth in shock.  Giani looks at each and every one of the people in the room with an intense look on his face.  The tension has reached an all time high as Giani throws his arms up in the air, exclaiming “Fuhgeddaboudit!”  The housemates look relieved as they cheer, seeing the Giani they once knew.  Everyone but Tony and Bianca crowd around him, patting him on the shoulder, as Candy jumps into his arms kissing his face.

Candy:  I’ve missed you, Gi!

Giani:  Awww, I missed ya too, broski!  I missed all of ya, even Bianca! Hahaha!

Everyone laughs as Bianca rolls her eyes.  She slowly stands up from the kitchen stool and walks to the center of the living room, looking at everyone and scoffing loud enough to be heard over all of the chattering.

Bianca:  You people sit up here all day long and call me a fake ass b*tch, and say I tawk behind people’s backs.  What the (beep) did you mother(beep)er’s just get done doin’?  I thought I was at a Giani Di Luca roast, what with Tony tawkin’ about puttin’ his *air quotes* b*tch ass back in his place, and the rest of ya’s noddin’ and sh*t.  But when he wawk’s in, all of a sudden he’s ya best friend?  Please, he’s ya (beep)in’ paycheck, ya fake ass b*tches…

Giani opens his eyes and just blinks as Bianca has the first outburst of the season, true story!  He raises the corner of his mouth as he sets Candy back down.  He looks around as people begin to disperse, avoiding the awful truth that Bianca just dropped on them all.  Giani looks back to Bianca and narrows his eyes at her.

Giani:  And I’m sure you was the ring leader of my roast, right?

Bianca:  ACTUALLY… *I* was the one who was sayin’ I couldn’t wait for ya to come back so I could apologize to ya face for what happened almost 3 years ago. I’m sorry I chased ya off, but ya know what?  I’m even more sorry that these assholes got ya so blind that ya can’t see how full of sh*t they really are.  But I am sorry, whether ya believe me or not.

Giani holds a hand out, in an attempt to calm Bianca down.  Bianca rolls her eyes furiously as she tucks her hair behind her ear.  She purses her lips as she growls under her breath.  This whole reunion is changed up a bit as Dixie comes walking in, using Giani as a shield against the obvious drama that has started already.  Her big eyes are even bigger as she stares around nervously.  She peeks her head from behind Giani and gently waves her hand as she lets out a friendly, yet mousey “Hi…”  Bianca stares at her with narrowed eyes and opens her mouth to mutter a simple “Hi…” in return, though hers is much louder and much less friendly.  She turns around and disappears down the hallway.  Giani reaches back and pulls Dixie closer, comforting her as Candy comes up.

Candy:  Hiiii… I’m Candy, and this over here is Carla, Tony…

As Candy starts to give Dixie the friendly introductions, hoping to be her bestie for the summer, Louie pats Giani on the back, as does Ricky, Toni, and Carla.  They take their leave, which only leaves Tony and Giani to stare at each other.  Giani sighs and lowers his eyes as he walks over to Tony apologetically.

Giani:  Bro… man… look…

Tony:  First off, I ain’t ya bro.  That flew out the freakin’ window with my bicuspid filling.

Giani:  I’m sorry bro, I really am.

Tony narrows his eyes at Giani as he gets in closer.  He surprises Giani by giving him a tight bro hug.  Giani is relieved as he pats his friend’s back.  He is about to speak, but realizes that Tony is tightening his grip, letting the hug linger a bit too long.  Tony leans in and whispers in Giani’s ear, but loud enough for Dixie, Candy, and apparently Bianca to hear.

Tony:  We ain’t brothers no more. Second off, ya might got the perfect blonde b*tch by ya side, and ya might have everyone buyin’ ya bullsh*t… but I ain’t. And I’m gonna prove ya full of sh*t.  Watch ya back, cause I’m gonna catch ya when ya slip up… “bro”…

Tony uses his shoulder to check Giani into the nearby partition wall before exiting the room backward, staring right at Giani.  Candy looks shocked as she still has Dixie’s hand in hers, and her mouth gaped open.  She goes to speak, but Giani just waves it off, though the hurt is very apparent on his face.  Dixie politely excuses herself from Candy and goes to comfort Giani as we fade out.

{COMMERCIAL BREAK: Brought to you by Smart Water “Be a Serious Baller: Don’t hate the player (or the electrolyte-enhanced hydration”}

{Everyday I’m Shufflin’}

{{Scene Two: Another Arrival))
*Sunday October 12th, Climax Control- Fort Benning Military Base, Chattahoochee County, Georgia

The crowd is alive as the show is heating up for the Main Event where Steve Ramone is set to challenge Drake Green for the SCW Heavyweight Championship.  However, things might have gotten a bit overdone during the last match.  While Drake Green’s name could be heard in the background as Justin Decent is giving a brief speech regarding the award for Man and Wrestler of the Year awards, respectively.  The voiceover can be heard as the fans watch the closed circuit television, nodding their head in agreement about Drake Green’s accomplishments.  We can see Giani helping Equinox back through the curtains as they are met by the medical team.  Giani nods his head as he looks over at Equinox, reassuringly.

Giani:  Dawg, ya gonna be alright. Ya taken worse bumps in ya title defenses.

Equinox:  I just don’t understand why these fools find it amusing to attack me, in front of my Jokers. Together, we will make them pay.

Giani:  They’re jealous of ya success, bro.  It’s that simple. Ya got a target on ya back with that title, and it grows bigger the longer ya keep holdin’ onto it.  Look, get yaself taken care of, and we’ll go tear down the Georgia nightclubs with enough alcohol to buzz an elephant, aight?

Equinox nods his head, wincing a bit as the medical team helps him on.  The military men and women who are backstage getting refreshments see the two and they cheer Equinox on, as well as Giani.  Giani smiles, but his eyes are drawn to the television as something flashes across the bottom of the screen with Drake’s Man of the Year award.

<marquee> RUNNERS UP: 1) Sean Jackson 2) (TIE) Ben Jordan (and) Simon Jones (and) Giani Di Luca (and) Goth</marquee>

Giani’s smirk slowly fades from his face as he looks down at the ground.  Being nominated was such an honor, and the fact that he even placed was amazing.  Someone who was used to getting attention, accolades, championships, and anything else that he could ever have wanted, might have just the slightest bit of a hard time not winning.  And being tied with a man who last referred to him as a viper, a snake… and a man who he had a bitter rivalry with that spanned two different championship reigns… and the third, a man who ended his lengthy Heavyweight title reign... might have been something that didn’t set too well with him.  He and Ben Jordan had enjoyed a World Cup party at Ben’s place, where many different SCW stars and Bombshells had attended, but there was never any type of mending done, and the fact that Giani wore a Team Italy jersey didn’t help matters!

*Ahem*

The harsh clearing of the throat draws Giani back to reality as he smiles, turning around to address the fan who was likely there to tell him what a good deed he had just done.  He reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out a sharpie to sign an autograph when he notices Holly Wood standing there… with a microphone?  He crinkles his nose in confusion before shaking his head.

Giani:  Don’t tell me ya ladies roughed up Rocky or Pussy, and now ya takin’ over the interview team too…

Holly:  What?  No, not at all… Wait, if I tell you that I did, would you rough me up a little bit?

Giani:  Yeah, no… I’m into blondes and all, but I’m in a committed relationship. Plus, I prefer nice girls.

Holly runs her tongue across her bottom lip, shimmering with cherry red and gloss that shines in the light.  She can’t help but groan a little as she takes in Giani’s shirtless physique, begging him with her eyes to make his pecs dance.  Her neatly manicured nails reach for them, but Giani stops her.

Giani:  Getting’ handsy, ladyboy?

Holly:  Hun-ty!  That’s NOT okay for you to say, mmmkay?  Besides, I ain’t no Mean Girl anymore.  I walked out on them, and now I’m trying to find extra ways to make some money.  I’m trying out for the interview team.

Giani:  So ya smartened up and walked out on em?  I was afraid I might have to kick ya ass when I returned…

Holly:  Kick, lick… whatever floats that boat of yours…

Giani shudders a bit.  Not that he was the least bit homophobic, but such a thought never crossed his mind.  He runs his hands over the back of his head as he desperately tries to think of a way to change the subject, and quick.

Giani:  Bro, er… sis?  Whatever it is, um… interview!  How about that interview?

Holly:  Yes!  Interview.  Maybe we could take this to the locker room so you can get cleaned up.  We know you take pride in your appearance, and we wouldn’t want you to look all sweaty and yummy, I mean gross, now would we?  I’ll get your back…

Giani:  I think I’m okay.  Sweatin’ is part of this gig.  Besides, I don’t know if I trust ya in a locker room with me, especially with a camera.  I’ll see my ass plastered all over the net.

Holly tilts her head back and chuckles politely.  This eases Giani’s tension slightly as she playfully pats his shoulders.

Holly:  As if I wasn’t already all over the net.  Believe me, I know.  You got the best ass in SCW, but you know who has the longest, thickest…?

Holly makes a fist and presses her elbow against her crotch, flexing her arm.  Giani’s mouth gapes open as he laughs nervously.

Holly:  Hm?  Care to take a guess?  That title belongs to someone whose name starts with Jon, and ends in…

Giani: Dooooooough-kay! I mean okay!

Holly:  *Gasp* You’re a looker! I knew it!

Giani:  No! Has anyone ever told ya that ya suck with interviews?

Holly: With interviews, no… Hey, I thought I was supposed to ask the questions here.

Giani:  THEN ASK! Geez-us!  C’mon! There’s so much material waitin’ for ya.  Where ya been?  Why’d ya come back?  The reality show?

Holly thinks it over for a second and then shakes her head, groaning as if to let him know that such subjects didn’t interest her.  She pulls a folded up piece of paper out of her bra and flings it open in one fell swoop.  She looks down at the paper and then taps at it hard to show Giani.

Holly:  That’s what I wanna ask.  That seems like a hard nosed question that anybody in their right mind would ask.  How do you feel about that?

Giani squints as he looks down at the paper, which is drenched and running with a bit of fake boob sweat.  He closes one eye carefully, but still can’t make it out and he shrugs his shoulders.

Giani:  I feel like I need to give my brain a shower.  But unfortunately, this conversation won’t wash out without a lobotomy.  I can’t read that.

Holly:  Get you some glasses babygurl… You’re facing Sean Jackson next week on Climax Control, and everyone wants to know…

Holly gets a very serious look on her face, but Giani is still shocked that he’s booked so quickly.  He scratches his head as he tries to come up with something meaningful to say about facing someone he’s never once faced, and has no idea what to expect, despite the massive reputation that precedes Jackson.

Giani:  Dawg… I seriously don’t kn…

Holly: … will you take this disposable camera and snap a few pictures of his ass up close?  He chases me off any time I get within five feet of his honeybuns…

Giani:  Seriously, dawg?  People wanna know if I’m gonna snap pictures of Sean Jackson’s ass during our match?  Like who?

Holly’s mouth gapes open as she looks highly offended by Giani’s accusations.  She places one hand on her hip as she brings the microphone to her lips, ready to sass Giani.

Holly:  So what, now I’m not people?  Are you saying that I am not {i]a person?[/i]  I find that rude, AND hurtful Mr. Di Luca.  I think you owe me an apology, and a shirtless hug… in a shower stall.  It’s only fair.

Giani:  I never said… Aww Fuhgeddaboudit… I’m gonna make this easy for you.  I’m back because I wanted to promote the reunion season of the hit reality television show that gave me my big breakthrough, Fuhgeddaboudit.  That’s also where I was during my absence.  I was set to promote this last week, but I missed my flight. I was waitin’ around to see if Erik or Christian could find a spot for me to plug.

Holly snickers and is ready to make a comment when Giani holds a hand up in her face, gently stroking her cheek to calm her down before returning his attention back to the camera.

Giani:  I saw Hawkes and Ringo jump Equinox, and it reminded me of the unfinished problems I had with that coattail ridin’ ass clown of a tag team partner I once had.  I didn’t even know what I was doin’. Next thing I know, I’m in the ring kickin’ ass, and lovin’ it.

Holly:  That’s not true. SCW don’t just book people who jump the barricade, or else everyone would be jumpin’ the barricade.

Giani:  My agent Barry had me sign a bunch of boring legal mumbo jumbo… might have somethin’ to do with that.  Either way, I don’t back down from any fight.  Not from Ringo, not from a tatted up pussy like Hawkes, and not from the ear rapist, Sean Jackson.  Dude’s hung like a Tic Tac…

Holly: *Gasp* LOOKER! You probably lingered too!

Giani shakes his head and just ignores the curious Holly.  He slowly takes the microphone away from Holly who bounces excitedly as she waits for Giani to explain.  Much to her dismay, he doesn’t.

Giani:  I got no real beef with Sean.  He’s been disrespectful to the troops that defend our right to do what we do.  That’s pretty shitty, and I will make sure to kick his ass good for that.  But on a personal level, he’s not on my radar.  I could care less about all the hype that comes along with his name.  He should be just as worried about me, if not more so.  Cause I’ve done somethin’ he hasn’t done, and will never do!  I’ve been the SCW Heavyweight Champion. I beat the best of the best to carry that title.  All he does is runs his mouth, tryin’ to piss people off.  He’s like a less hot version of the Mean Girls, with a win-loss record that’s even less “hot”.  I’m a boss, and that’s all ya need to know.

Holly:  But… I’ve got more questions!  Have you ever thought about joining a support group for lingerers?  I might be small, but I can support a lot of weight…

Despite Holly’s pleading, Giani walks off after handing the microphone back to Holly.  She goes to plead more, but finds herself trapped on Giani’s bouncing backside.  It hypnotizes her as she signals the trinity, praying for the sins going on in her mind.

Camerman:  So… you never signaled for me to record, so…

Holly’s jaw drops open in shock and anger as she moves toward the cameraman, hands extended for maximum slapping action.  Fortunately, the Fuhgeddaboudit promotional camera crew caught this tasty tidbit for your enjoyment.  Holly… we got you…

{Scene Fades}

{Everyday I’m Shuff-ff-fflin’}

{fin}

 <iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/ExiC1vw1r4A" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

{Rhiannon}

”It was her favorite song ever.  I guess if there was a song called “Giani” it would be my favorite.  I can remember goin’ over to her house when we was kids, and she would pop in a Fleetwood Mac tape.  Yeah, I said tape…  She would alternate between their self titled tape and their greatest hits.  From a young age, she found serenity in the voice of Stevie Nicks.  She was my best friend since preschool, ever since she shared her Oreo’s with me, we was tight.  Runnin’ around each other’s back yards playin’ freeze tag, just the two of us mind you.  That lasted about five minutes before we went to regular tag.  No Tag Backs was a real bitch hahahaha…

We would run until we couldn’t run no more.  Then we would collapse on the ground and just stare up at the sky.  I’m surprised we never blinded ourselves.  She always kept her distance though, cause boys and cooties and all that, but we was thick as thieves she used to say.  Even from a young age though, I could see the sunlight in her blonde hair as we went back and forth on the swings.  We swore one day we would swing over the bar…

She spent a lot of time around my place, but that damned boom box was always with her, playin’ a Fleetwood Mac song featuring strictly Stevie Nicks singing.  I never understood why we were mostly at my place, but I didn’t argue too much cause I didn’t like walkin’ up that steep hill after runnin’ around for hours on end.  She would go home when we was eatin’ dinner, but she came back and would sit in our back yard until I could come back out.  My parent’s thought this girl was the weirdest kid they ever met, but we were almost inseparable.  Eventually, they started invitin’ her in for dinner with us, I guess to save her from walkin’ home and then back again.

Ignorance is bliss.  If I could go back to those days, I would in a heartbeat.  I would love my biggest worry to be gettin’ at least a C on my math tests, and bringin’ home some macaroni art of my mom or Stevie Nicks… Yeah hahahaha… Guess who would talk me in to that?  But, the answer was cause I was the best macaroni artist in the first grade, of course.  I never really understood why she loved Fleetwood Mac and solo Stevie Nicks so damn much back then.  I just thought it was cause of the song she was named after.  It isn’t until now that I’m hearin’ the song play on the radio that I realize just how poetic and whimsical and deep the music really is.  No matter how depressing the topic might be, the song always left ya with a good feelin’.

Why would a child be so in need of this help?  Why would she beg me to panhandle on the Boardwalk, dancin’ with a shawl for nickels and dimes?  Sure, kids have fears that seem trivial to adults, and they really affect their psyche as much as our problems do, if not even a little bit worse… but why did she always need it?  Any time I would ask somethin’ like that, all I would get is a shoulder shrug.  Even as thirteen year olds, I wondered the same thing.  We were best friends, but there were times where we were as far away from each other emotionally as two people could get.  Somehow though, our presence was good enough.  But there is one day that I remember in particular that would give me some clues, and to this day, the song would make me shudder and tear up.[“/i]

We fade in to see a very young Giani, not even a teenager, lying down in the grass of a small backyard, which he was fortunate to even have.  The setting sun casts an orange glow on his otherwise olive skin tone.  His eyes are filled with such innocence that you would almost not even believe it were Giani.  His white t-shirt advertising Gangsta’s Paradise is stained by the grass, and his blue jeans are tattered.  His small chest heaves as he just watches the clouds pass him by.  We pan out just a little bit to see a young girl about two feet away from him.  She is wearing a turquoise dress with white daisies printed all over it, and a pink hooded jacket, further colliding with her sequined ruby red slippers.  She is sprawled out on the grass, her turquoise eyes sparkling almost as much as her slippers as she stares up at the sky.  Her namesake song has just started playing in the background as she softly hums along to it, occasionally singing to it.

Rhiannon:  “Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and, who’ll be her lover?”

Giani found that her voice was just as soothing as Stevie Nicks.  So much maturity in her voice for such a young woman.  Giani never gave much thought to girls in a romantic light before, but the line suddenly seemed to spark an interest as he turns his head slightly.

Rhiannon:  “All your life you’ve never seen a woman… taken by the wind.  Would you stay if she promised you heaven?  Will you ever win?”

Giani:  I think I would.

Rhiannon looks over toward Giani, seeming to be a bit confused by what he said.  Not that she didn’t comprehend it, but more that she didn’t understand where it came from, or if it was just another one of Giani’s jokes.  She chuckles before fluttering her eyelashes and looking back at the sun as it melts across the horizon.

Giani:  Rhiaaaaaaanooooon? … Rhiaaaaaaanooooon? … Rhiaaaaaaanooooon? … Rhiaaaaaaanooooon? …

Rhiannon:  “She rings like a bell through the night.  And wouldn’t you love to love her? …”

Giani:  I wasn’t singin’, Ry…  I was makin’ sure you was still here with me, or wonderin’ if you was taken by the sky or somethin’…

Rhiannon looks over at Giani, a smile on her face as she scoots just a few inches closer.  Giani repeats this as he inches his way over toward her.  The peculiar young girl holds her hand out, stopping him just where he’s at.  She then rolls over on to her side and looks directly into Giani’s eyes.

Rhiannon:  Wouldn’t it be so cool if we really were taken by the sky?  Like, if the Goddess just reached down and scooped us up in her hands?  Carried us up away from everything.  I would take you to meet my grandma…

Giani:  You only get in to heaven when ya die, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on dyin’ ever.

Rhiannon smiled lightly as she crawls just another inch closer.  Giani rolls over onto his side, feeling concerned for his best friend as the forming moon starts to dance in her eyes.  She slowly nods her head at this idea.

Rhiannon:  I know.  I never said that we had to die.  I was just asking how cool that would be.  You always have to question everything I say.

Giani:  We’re never gonna get old though.  We’re gonna be young forever.

Rhiannon sticks her tongue out at Giani as if to taunt him, returning the favor.  She closes her eyes for just a second and then she reaches over to brush a few locks of Giani’s skater cut from his face.

Rhiannon:  Everybody dies.  You can’t escape it forever.  You just… make what you can out of the time you have.  When I grow up, I’m going to be in a Stevie Nicks cover band.  I’m going to dance across the stage in a top hat, these shoes, only bigger… and a white shawl.  Spinning, and spinning… and spinning like it was my last chance to spin and feel the wind on my skin and through my hair…

Giani:  That’s boring… When I grow up, I’m gonna be a ***edit out a certain entertainment company of the world wrestling variety*** champion.  I’m gonna be the best there ever was cause I got the best right hook on the block.

Rhiannon:  Close but no cigar.  You will be the best though.  I just know it.

Giani rolls back over onto his back, watching as traces of darkness start to enter the sky.  He slowly and softly blinks his eyes as he takes in all of the wonderful colors of the sky, looking off over the sea.

Giani:  You can’t be right about everything, Ry…

”And she was…”

Giani and Rhiannon go quiet as they seem to fade into “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac.  It is so unnoticeable to Giani as the two songs almost always seem to melt together for him, but Rhiannon rolls over in the opposite direction quickly.  Before Giani can even begin to notice, Rhiannon dashes over toward the boom box to see a woman standing next to it.

Rhiannon:  MOM!

The woman leaves quite a bit to be desired.  You can see that she was once just as beautiful as Rhiannon, but time was not kind to her, nor was her wardrobe.  The woman drops her cigarette to the ground, stomping it out as she leans down to accept a hug from Rhiannon.  Her baggy cleavage nearly falls out of her red dress, if Rhiannon weren’t there to stop them with her body.

Mom:  Ohhh baby… It feels like I never get to see you since you are always with your boyfriend.

Rhiannon turns toward Giani and then back to her mom with a look of disgust on her face as she shakes her head.  Her mom laughs in the same coarse manner that she had spoken in before.  Years of chain smoking, amongst *other* very obvious things will do that.  Giani slowly gets off of the grass and walks over toward the two.

Giani:  Oh, uh, hey Ms. Smith.

Mom:  Hi there.  Boy, you sure are growing into a cutie.  No wonder my daughter is never home, huh?

She playfully smacks Rhiannon who returns the favor, a smile on her face that is so fake that even Giani can tell it isn’t real. Giani nods his head as Ms. Smith turns back to Rhiannon.

Mom:  Well, I just got back from the store after my client meeting.  I decided I would make dinner tonight instead of ordering.

Rhiannon:  Good, cause there’s a new guy at Nero’s and he doesn’t believe that I’m not playing a trick on him when I try to order.  But Giani’s mom makes the best lasagna with lobster meat in it, and…

Mom:  Lobster in lasagna?  Sounds fishy to me…  But, I got stuff for grilled cheese, and any kind of soup you want.

Rhiannon:  TOMATO!

The two laugh and celebrate as if they had hit the jackpot with such a meal.  For Rhiannon, it was the fact that she got to have a meal with her mother.  Ms. Smith turns to Giani with a smile.

Mom:  I saw your parents weren’t home yet.  Would you like to join us, Giani?

Before Rhiannon could shake her head fast enough, Giani nods his, thinking that is what she would want.  Her mother smiles proudly as Rhiannon gives Giani the look of death.  He shrugs his shoulders as they begin walking down the steep hill toward their house.  Up until they get to her steps, she refuses to even look at Giani again.  They climb the many steep steps to get to the front door that would give the most athletic person a work out.  Ms. Smith fumbles with the lock, muttering curses from under her cigarette before the door finally pushes open.  A Persian kitten comes running up to Giani, instantly reaching it’s claws up to say a friendly hello.  Her bone tag reads “Gypsy” (go figure).  Giani waves his hand in front of his face from the stench and debris over the house.  It was no wonder she didn’t want him to see this.  As Ms. Smith walks into the kitchen, Rhiannon pulls Giani off to the side as the telephone rings.

Rhiannon:  You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone at school about this.  They already think I’m a freak, and we won’t be able to be friends anymore cause they will try to beat you up too…

Giani:  Screw what they think.  We’re friends before anythin’ else.  I wouldn’t tell anyone anyway.  It ain’t their business.

Rhiannon look relieved as she gives Giani a hug.  She squeezes him tightly before setting her boom box down on the coffee table?  .. either that or a mound of trash in place of where one should be.  The air is thick with smoke, almost making Giani gag until he gets used to it.  In the background, Ms. Smith can be heard speaking.

Mom: … C’mon, Saul!  Can’t this wait like a couple hours or something?  I’m tryin’ to have dinner with my daughter for once…  Yeah, I do want that electric bill paid, but…  Whatever, fine…

The phone is heard banging against the receiver on the wall in the kitchen, causing Rhiannon to sink.  The smell of grilled bread and cheese starts to fill up the house as the sizzle is heard.  Rhiannon picks up the table and kicks over the table, revealing legs finally.  She storms off past the kitchen and down a narrow, wood paneled hallway.  Giani goes to follow her, but is cut off when Ms. Smith pokes her head out of the kitchen.  She just shakes her head, trying to muster up the words until she smells burning on the stove.  She mutters under her breath before returning to the kitchen.  Giani chases after Rhiannon, getting to her bedroom door.  She pulls him in and slams the door shut.

Rhiannon:  She’s nothing but a drugged up WHORE!

Giani:  Hey now, we ain’t supposed to say that kinda stuff about our parents.  It’s against a commandment.

Rhiannon:  Fuck those rules!  It isn’t bad if it’s the truth.  She has sex with men for money, Giani!  They call her up and she goes to them, or they come here and I can’t stand it anymore!  They do drugs and bang her headboard against my wall all night and  can’t sleep.  I… I…

Rhiannon screams loud enough for her mom to hear, but she soon bursts into tears.  She wraps her arms around Giani’s chest and buries her head in it.  Her mom comes bursting through the door when Rhiannon picks up her boom box and throws it at her, shrieking at the top of her lungs, loud enough to almost shatter glass.

Rhiannon:  GEEEEEEEEET OOOOOOUUUUUUUUUT!!!!

Giani looks awkwardly uncomfortable when she begins slapping her mother out of the room.  She locks the door and her eyes nearly bug out of her head.  She growls before tackling Giani on to the bed.  She presses her lips against his but he immediately pulls away.

Giani:  What the…?

Rhiannon:  Like mother, like daughter…  You said you wanted to love me, didn’t you?

Giani tries to overpower her, but she holds him down and tries to lift up his shirt.  The taller, stronger girl was getting the better of him until he works his knees under hers and pushes her off of him and in to a collection of vintage tapes.  He goes for the door, but she tackles him in to a wall.

Rhiannon:  NO!  You might be the fighter… You might be the heartbreaker, Giani, but you won’t break mine!  You will never know what love is so long as you live.  You can have what always makes you happy… your self… your fighting, but it won’t be real…

Rhiannon spits at him before opening her door and charging out of the room.  Giani rubs the back of his head as he tries to catch his breath, unsure of what just happened.  He feels sick to his stomach as he slowly goes after her.  The door is heard slamming as he gets to the hallway.  He has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he walks to the end of the hallway.  Ms. Smith comes out after him, her mascara running down her face as they walk over to the door.  As soon as Giani puts his hand on the door handle, the loud screeching of tires can be heard along with a thud.  Giani freezes and the color drains from his face as her mother scoots him out of the way, flinging the door open and within seconds, she shrieks and disappears.  Giani looks out of the doorway, a blank stare on his face before the screen fades back out to white.

”I really would have loved to love her later on in life… even though I kinda think I already did.  Who am I kiddin’?  I always did… We had somewhat of a mature friendship beyond what most adults have.  I admired her free spirit.  The way she twirled around with her mother’s shawl to “Gypsy” and “Rhiannon” for hours on end.  Feeling the wind on her skin and through her hair.

I know she didn’t really mean what she said to me.  She was disappointed about her mother “working” instead of havin’ dinner with her.  She was hurt by the rejection of her advances.  She needed to get away from the situation.  She was hurt, and I was her safety zone. She felt betrayed and she said some things she didn’t mean.  But the fact of the matter is that, up until now… she was kinda right.  I could never love someone again.  I’m not even sure if I’m there yet with Dixie, but it’s the closest I been since I was a kid.

Rhiannon… if ya watchin’ me from Heaven where I know ya really are… I guess ya finally let up with the grudge?  I’m really sorry, but I’m sure ya understand we was just kids.  I’ve got a tear in my heart, and it reflects you.  But in the end, I guess you really was taken by the sky that night.  Tell ya grandmamma that I said hi, and maybe one day when I’m done bein’ a kickass indy wrestler here on Earth, I will get to meet her like ya always wanted me to.  Anyway, wish me luck with Dixie, will ya? Thanks…”

---

There is so much I want to say right now.  I have so much motivation to just rip into almost every single person I’ve ever encountered in my life that has brought me to this point.  So many people I want to thank.  So many people I just wanna punch in the freakin’ throats for bein’ such douchebags.  But there are a lot of people that I would love to just sit down with them and ask ‘em… “why?”  Why? Why? Why?

Jeremiah Hardin… Why do ya pass up on an opportunity to be heard right before what could be the single greatest match of ya career?  Why are ya takin’ this match so lightly?  Why is it that you seem so nonchalant about a shot at the Sin City Wrestlin’ Heavyweight Championship?  Why do ya disrespect me so much as if to think ya can just ignore me, and ya other challengers, and still expect the chance to win the title?  Why do ya think you was put into this title match?  Why do ya think I had mostly good things to say about ya last week?  Because, as one of the people who shows signs of the brightest future in Sin City Wrestlin’, I kinda figured you would step up above all else and prove that ya earned the shot.  But ya nothin’ more than a coward, bro.  There is only one man that I even have an ounce of respect for in this match, and that’s…

Kain…  Why do ya think ya earned this shot at me?  Why, above every one in SCW, was you picked to be in this match?  Why does gettin’ knocked over the head with a steel chair qualify you to come at me for the Heavyweight title?  Why are ya considered to be one of the most dangerous men in SCW, even though ya couldn’t answer a simple question two weeks ago?  Why do ya deserve a shot at me and MY title?  Why should I give ya the time of day?  Why couldn’t you just try to convince me, or anyone, that you belonged in this match?  I purposely went out there three weeks ago and poked at every single male in SCW, and I got only one thing in response, and it was from the guy who knocked ya over the head with the chair in the first place, tellin’ me why he DIDN’T want the shot at me.  He wanted to wait for the people who really wanted the shot to get theirs, but obviously no one’s got the balls to come at me for the title, and do it for real.  Are ya gonna half-ass it bro?  And then claim later on that you wasn’t at your best, and that’s why I beat the ever livin’ FUCK outta ya?  The whole freakin’ place ain’t at their best, bro.  Seems like I’m the only shooting star in the Men’s Division these days.  Everyone else has passed their prime, includin’ you, Kain…

Then there was Max, the afterthought…  Why do ya feel so deservin’ of a shot at me?  Why do ya feel like you’re so entitled after doin’ exactly fuck all since losin’ the title to Jeremiah Hardin, and then gettin’ beat down by The Saviors?  Why did ya decide that it was a good idea to come back and fuck with me?  Why not go after the title you were lucky enough to get in the first place?  Why are ya so into this “Wrestling’s Pedigree” gimmick?  No one is payin’ attention to this match because of you.  The only thing makin’ this match such a big draw is because my name is in it.  Why are you even in this match?  Why must you brown nose ya way into a Supercard Main Event match for the Heavyweight Championship?  Better yet, why does “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward buy this crap ya sellin’?  Why, wasn’t it just a year ago, we was fightin’ on the same side of the Team Wars… AGAINST Mark?  Yet, for some reason, you are able to assure him that you’ve changed when you are still the sneaky, slimy, skeazy little punk ass you was since the day you joined Sin City Wrestlin’.  So again, I ask you… WHY are ya in this match?  WHY do ya deserve to be here?  WHY can’t ya tell me what exactly it is that you’ve done to earn the right to compete against me?  Why haven’t you fought a single match since you returned, yet you are Main Eventing?  It don’t make sense, Max.  Why is it that I’m startin’ to see that Erik Staggs had the right idea with the rebellion?

Why? … Why? Why?  Why? Why?  Why?


{Sweet Nothing (Pt 2)}

The whole world seems like its standin’ still for almost an hour.  Here I am, on bended knee, professin’ my love to this girl who I’ve only known since Thanksgiving.  My fingers nervously rub against the satin outside of the box.  I can feel my heart firing adrenaline through my veins like a cannon.  It beats like drum inside of my hear, and my throat tightens up.  The sweat drips down my forehead like I was in the gym, and the salt of it burns my eyes.  I’m just a big mess, both inside and out.  My best dress shirt is stained with red wine, my hair is startin’ to mat with sweat like I was workin’ out or something, I’m pretty sure I ate a whole clove of garlic, and I’m literally geekin’ out here!!!  But all I can do is look into her eyes, glowing under the light of the moon, and it’s like I can see straight in to Heaven itself.  Ya might be thinking to yourself “Ey, yo Giani… Broski… why the hell are ya freakin’ out like that when ya get a glimpse of heaven like that?”  If I ever find the answer, I will be sure to tell ya…

Giani looks up from his crouched down position, his breaths shallow as he confronts the biggest fear of his entire life.  Just the idea that he could be rejected seems to be the hardest part for him out of all of this.  Well, that and the fact that he has only ever opened his heart on two different occasions, and neither one worked out very well for him.  Some might remember that one of them happened to be Dixie’s sister, Misty.  He blinks his eyes, studying the mixed expression on her face, a total confliction building inside of her.

Giani:  Well…?

Dixie takes in a deep breath, stifling it as she exhales.  She fumbles around nervously with a napkin as if she could possibly be as nervous as Giani.  His lips quiver into a smile as he remains focused on her eyes.  She nibbles at her lower lip as a frown come across her face.

Dixie:  No…

The word seems to stab him a million times over as his look of joy seems to melt away from his face.  He looks away from Dixie and over to the ground.  He holds the ring out toward her without thinking as he purses his lips, unsure of how to properly react.

Dixie:  I mean… not yet.  Not now…  I hardly know you, Giani.  That’s almost completely unfair of you to spring that on me like that.

Giani:  Well, I’m sorry, I never done this before.  Excuse the hell outta me if I thought you was worth askin’…

Dixie lifts her head up, breaking her gaze on him long enough to roll her eyes.  She lifts his chin up, looking down into his eyes, watching the pain resonate within them, causing her to tear up a little.

Dixie:  I’m not saying no for good.  I’m just saying that right now probably wouldn’t be the best time for this.  We still have so much to learn about each other, Giani.  Can you at least understand where I’m coming from?

Giani clinches his jaw, refusing to hear the words she is saying.  He climbs up off of his knee, walking over to the wrought iron guard railing.  He leans down, resting his elbows on the railing as he stares out into the water rippling in the pool.  Dixie sighs as she debates whether or not to follow him.  She decides to air on the side of caution and stay back to give him his space for a moment.

”I gotta admit… that sucked balls, like seriously… Every freakin’ time I open my heart up to some broad, they throw me away like a piece of trash.  Why do I even bother, for real?  I know that it’s kinda sudden, and completely outta nowhere, but still… Why can’t someone look at me and see me for the man that I am?  I mean, am I really that freakin’ horrible of a person?”

Giani takes in a deep breath.  He fumbles around in his pocket, picking the box out of his pocket as he fishes out a cigarette.  He lights it in an instant as he pulls the ring box out of his pocket.  He holds it open and looks at it for all of three seconds before he tosses it out toward the pool.  At this point, Dixie seems to feel as if she doesn’t have any other choice but to come over to him.  She stands up from her seat and her heels click against the ground as she approaches Giani.

Giani:  Just… don’t, okay?  I don’t need to hear some pitiful story about why I ain’t husband material.

Dixie:  But, Giani…

Giani:  No!  Do ya have any idea how that feels, especially for someone who has never opened up to any other girl before?  Like, at all?

Giani doesn’t even dignify Dixie by turning around to face her.  Instead, he simply takes another drag from his cigarette as he watches the rippling water of the pool, and the steam rising from it.  He taps the butt end of the cigarette, seeming almost mesmerized by the water, so much that emotion is absent from his face.  Dixie places her hand on Giani’s shoulder, a tear streaming down her cheek.

Dixie:  Will you please listen to me?  You’re an amazing person.  If you weren’t, I would definitely NOT be here with you.  I would have run away at the first sign of trouble.

Giani chuckles under his breath as he lifts the cigarette to his lips once more.  He takes a long drag as a sarcastic smile comes over his face.  He slowly looks over to Dixie as if she had just said the funniest thing ever.

Giani:  That’s me.  That’s all I ever heard.  “Giani… You’re nothin’ but trouble.”

Dixie:  No, that’s not what I meant, Giani…

Giani:  Then why don’t ya elaborate for me “babe”…?

Dixie pulls her hand off of his shoulder, almost gritting her teeth at him as she is fuming.  She takes a deep breath and takes a few steps away.  She leans on the railing, staring out toward the pool as well.  She reaches over and takes the cigarette from Giani’s hand and takes a surprisingly big drag, holding it in before slowly exhaling.

Giani:  I didn’t know ya smoked…

Dixie:  I don’t…

Dixie narrows her eyes as she glares at him for no more than a split second.  She holds the cigarette back out toward Giani as he gently takes it from her fingers.  Once he has it, she looks back out to the pool, watching the reflection of the moon dance with the wind through the ripples.

Dixie:  Do you remember the first time we met?

Giani:  Roly’s Bakery, the Wednesday before Thanksgivin’… One pumpkin pie left.

Dixie:  And you were gentleman enough to let me have it.  I can remember the cheesy smile you gave me when you slid me your number, and then snapped a surprise picture for your contacts, because you were so sure I would call.  I remember thinking “This guy CAN’T be serious!”

Dixie and Giani both chuckle a little, lightening the mood ever so slightly.  Giani tries not to let it be too obvious, but he slowly inches his way toward Dixie, pausing between each movement.

Giani:  Well, I guess somehow I knew that you was gonna be at the same party and that I wouldn’t need it, cause I always win.  Obviously ya changed ya mind about callin’ me too or we wouldn’t be here right now.

Dixie:  You’re missing the point.  My first impression was that you were just another player out there trying to play me, and I only played back nicely because I searched all over town for a quality pumpkin pie, and I always get what I want…

Dixie sticks her tongue out playfully at Giani, causing his almost stone-like expression to soften a bit.  The corner of his lip curls into a smile as he stares into her eyes once more.  He nods his head at her as if thinking of himself as an example.

Dixie:  When I saw you at Spike’s house on Thanksgiving, I wanted to run out of there so badly… But I sat back with Desiree and watched you.  I saw where your heart really is.  I watched you playing around with Eden like you were just a big kid yourself.  I saw a person, and not just a player.

Giani almost doesn’t know what to say as he just stares at her.  She smiles sweetly as she nestles herself against his warm body, closing her eyes as he gently envelopes her in his arms.

Dixie:  I watched you conquer some of your biggest demons, and seeing that bravery made me feel… I don’t know… safe?  Secure?  It was a sort of culture shock seeing you kiss my sister before Christmas, then her ex-husband.  And then those Mean Bitches raping you with their eyes.  It is going to take some getting used to, Giani, and I am not one who makes promises I’m not one hundred percent sure I can keep.  And if you are the man that I think you are, you will understand.

Giani cocks his head to the side, staring down at Dixie as if he had just caught her in the act of something.  He pauses for a moment, puffing his chest out as he thinks about it for a moment.

Giani:  Are ya sure you’re not just as big a player as me?  You seem to have that line down, girl.  Ohhhh, that’s cold…

Dixie:  I don’t mean to sound spoiled, but like I said before… I always get what I want, and I want you.  I’m just not sure I’m ready to be your wife.

Giani:  I guess I can’t complain too much about that.  I mean, I don’t know if I’m willin’ to jump after it and into that water in this weather anyway.  I might ask again in, oh, I don’t know… May?  June?

Dixie groans in delight as she makes herself comfortable in Giani’s arms.  She practically melts into him as she rests her face against his beating heart.

Dixie:  That sounds perfect… Just make sure to wear black, or serve white wine instead…

Giani chuckles under his breath as he runs his fingers through her hair.  He stares down at her, gently rocking to the music playing softly in the background.  He would almost swear that he could see her glow under the moon, as if she truly were an angel.  He, too, closes his eyes softly as we fade out.

---

”So, needless to say, I got a lot on my mind right now.  I’m not nearly as focused right now as I should be.  I’m basically a mental wreck.  I understand where Dixie is coming from, I really do.  But what guy could be alright after proposin’ to a chick he’s mad about, and havin’ her say no?  If there is a man out there like that, I could really use some advice right about now…

But it ain’t just that.  I’m losin’ it right now for a few reasons.  I just don’t understand how three of these no-names could be challengin’ me for the Heavyweight strap in the Main Event.  It’s just a collision of bureaucracy by Erik Staggs, vested interest by “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward, and wishful thinkin’ by Christian Underwood.  Nobody proved they was good enough for me, yet here we are in just a few short days.  I even went out in front of the entire SCW fan base and BEGGED people to tell me why they were good enough to come at me.  All I heard was Simon Jones sayin’ he wanted to wait until I was worn down by anyone else who thought they deserved a shot at the strap, followed by a million crickets chirping.  Kinda shit is that?

Clearly nobody thinks that they are worthy of the belt.  That, or they are afraid of me cause I’m on a roll.  The funny thing is that I been on a roll since I came to Sin City Wrestlin’.  Nobody seemed to be afraid of me until I decided to focus on the top prize.  Then, all of these cowardly motherfuckers parted like the Red Sea so that I could walk right up to the champ and snatch it from him.  I set out to make the SCW Heavyweight Championship somethin’ that people could be proud of.  When the day comes that I am bested by someone, I want them to remember that I brought this belt back to life, and brought it back to the standard that it should be held at.  I wanna make the likes of Gabriel, Nick Jones, and Spike Staggs proud of what the belt has become, instead of embarrassing them like the last several champions did.  To live up to their standards, I really need to step things up.

I said that I would fight any challenge that comes my way, cause I’m a fightin’ champion, so don’t think that I plan on takin’ this match lightly.  I’m proud to be the SCW Heavyweight Champion, and even if I have to do it all on my own, I WILL make this strap truly the biggest prize in the game.  I will continue to inspire people to reach for the stars, and to work their way to the top.  That’s the only way to know that you truly deserve to sit on top.  That’s the only way that you can fight off the vultures like Max Burke.  That’s the only way you can be sure that you can take down any wild card like Jeremiah Hardin.  That’s the only way that you can stand up to a ruthless challenger like Kain.

Rectifying this has been my mission since the day I decided I wanted to go after the SCW Heavyweight belt, but now… it’s my whole fuckin’ existence…

---

{Secret Crowds}

The fans clamor at the entrance to the Star of the Desert Arena in Primm, Nevada.  Most are wearing their favorite SCW Star of Bombshell merchandise, waving signs, or in many cases, replica’s of the Angel teddy bear.  As the camera passes them, the fans try to make as much noise as they can to get noticed, even if only for a brief second.  We push through the doors to see that the large crowd outside is nothing compared to the crowd inside of the arena.  The biggest fans of SCW have gathered for another promotional event, this time being for My Bloody Valentine, airing in just a few short days.  We work past the large crowd of the lobby to find a stage set up through the booing crowd.  A mysterious hooded figure walks through them, gently brushing past them as he comes up toward the stage.  Standing in front of a microphone is Mean Girls’ very own Delia, with Angelica and Holly Wood to each side of her.  She purses her lips, ready to spit venom at the audience.

Delia:  Such lack of respect?  I would expect such from z’e trash of regular Climax Control shows, but you are supposed to be z’e best fans z’is place has to offer…

Angelica clears her throat as she steps closer to Delia, taking her spot in front of the microphone.  She flips her hair out of her face as she peers out into the audience, looking less than pleased.

Angelica:  This Q&A session is now over.  You don’t deserve to be graced with our presence any longer.

The crowd claps for her announcement that they no longer have to be tortured by them.  She rolls her eyes and spins on the heel of her shoe toward the curtain set up behind them.  She starts to walk off along with Delia as Holly Wood steps up to the microphone.

Holly:  Mean Girls merchandise is now available right over there sweethearts… Can a girl get a new pair of shoes?  Werk…

Angelica grips onto Holly’s arm and yanks her away, getting a few giggles from the audience before the tandem disappears behind the curtains for good.  The mystery figure chuckles under his breath as he joins in with the applause.  He stands there as Justin Decent comes back to the stage, wearing nothing more than his usual lycra shorts and a bow tie collar.  He is greased up, getting a reaction from several of the ladies in the audience, as well as a few of the men.

Justin:  Thank you, Mean Girls!  Yeah… right?  Next up, we’ve got a very special guest.  We will hear from the returning Bombshell of crazy…!

The audience claps their hands together as the mystery fan starts to walk off.  The fans discuss who it might be, tossing out names such as Trish Newborn or Kittie as he shakes his head, laughing softly through his nose.  He walks down the hallway a few paces to spot Vixen standing in between two female fans wearing New X-Tremes gear.  They have their arms around her as she leans over just a bit, placing a finger against her glossy lips, as if to let the audience know that she has a secret she is about to let us all in on.  *FLASH*  After the camera goes off, she shakes hands with both ladies who walk over to the side to get copies of their photo.  A glimmer of recognition enters Vixen’s eyes as she cocks her head to the side at the mystery fan.  He gives her a nod before turning to walk down the hallway.  A male fan rushes up to her for his spot in line, so she is unable to go after the fan.

Fan 1:  Hey! Watch where you’re going, asshole!

The mystery fan looks to his fellow comrade and pats his shoulder gently as if to offer a silent apology.  The other fan shakes his head in disgust, flipping off the fan as he walks off.  The mystery fan walks over to see a small meet and greet table set up with Erik Staggs and Christian Underwood as they speak with several fans at once.  The mystery fan walks up to the two of them and slams his big almost veiny hands down on the table.  Christian doesn’t budge an inch, but Erik leans back in his chair, peering down the hood before sighing in irritation.

Erik:  Christian… precious fan base…?  Will you please excuse me while I attend to some… business?  Thank you.

Christian looks just a bit concerned as Erik steps off to the side with this extra special fan.  He straightens out his jacket partially before pulling it closed over his dress shirt.  He takes in a deep breath as he waits for some sort of verbal lashing.  However, it doesn’t come.  Instead, he can feel the harshness of the stare burning through him.

Erik:  Look… what do you want me to say?  I finished fighting with you months ago… I just want peace around here, for once, and…

Disclaimer:  voice is disguised to protect the identity of the mystery fan
Mystery Fan:  Is that why you decided to let such debauchery take place in front of your peers last week?  In front of the entire viewing audience?  We had a deal, you nitwit, and it didn’t involve caving to the demands of Twinkle Toes or the Big Buff Wolf.

Erik:  No… the deal was that I wouldn’t let any real threat slip through the cracks for Giani.  As much as I fucking hate to see it happen, he is quickly becoming the true Golden Child around this place, and I’m not going to let that change so soon.

Erik make sure to keep his voice down as he nervously looks around for whom might be watching him. He takes a deep breath and then looks dead into the eyes of this mystery “fan”.

Mystery Fan:  This match was set up months ago, and Kain was supposed to face Giani at My Bloody Valentine, before the event even had a name…

Erik:  Right, and being so damned obvious is really going to help things.  I said I wouldn’t give Giani a challenge he couldn’t handle, but face it… No body short of God himself could knock that kid off of the throne.  His biggest threat is himself.

Mystery Fan:  But this?  None of it was part of the deal.  Grow some fucking balls and stick to the plan from here on out.  I don’t want to hear how the kid is invincible.  He’s got a big wide open Achilles ’ heel and it’s only a matter of time before someone exposes it.  Besides, bitch-hood doesn’t suit you very well…

Erik rolls his eyes as he looks away from the mystery fan and back over to Christian to see that he is preoccupied with the many fans.  He breathes a sigh of relief before turning back to the fan.

Mystery Fan:  We wouldn’t want to have to stage another rebellion, would we?  Everything down to the last detail of the plan must be followed from here on out.  It’s not like I ask much of you.  It’s justice, really is all…  Now, I have to go.  Giani is doing an interview with Rocky Mountains so he can be seen with his *air quotes* adoring fans…

Erik:  Do us both a favor and never come to me in public like that again…

The mystery fan nods his head as he turns to walk away.  His head is bowed so not to reveal his face, only the overshadowed silhouette.  He gets about two feet away when a worried expression comes over Erik’s face.

Erik:  He still doesn’t know, does he?

The mystery fan stops dead in his tracks, the camera flash shows nothing but an eerie smile made up of overly white teeth before disappearing into the shadows once again.

Mystery Fan:  Not a clue…

Erik:  Excellent.

The mystery fan continues on his way as Erik returns to the table next to Christian.  Our fan walks past the photo op station once more, chuckling quietly to himself as he sees the fans crowd around Jon Dough.  He turns toward the large crowd gathering around Giani Di Luca off in the distance.  The ladies rush him, trying to cop a feel of the star of the evening.

Mystery Fan:  He’s so Hollywood, even if he is from Jersey… A champion that we can truly be proud of.  No active male deserves this as much as he does.  A hard worker since day one, we will always remember his climb to the top.  But no one will ever know the whole story, not even Giani…

Giani lifts his sunglasses off of the bridge of his nose, allowing it to rest on his forehead.  The cameras flash almost constantly as the fans want to catch just a small glimpse of “The Reflection of Perfection”.  It almost seems to give him a radiant glow, showing off his confidence with flying colors.  He moves through the crowd as Ms. Rocky Mountains stands by, admiring Giani just as much as the fans are.  He stops in the middle of the crowd and peels off his white “Italian Stallion” hooded shirt to show, giving it to an aspiring Giani fan who nearly faints.  Giani holds the man up for a second, patting him on the chest, giving him a few words of encouragement before continuing over toward Rocky.

Mystery Fan:  He doesn’t even realize how arrogant he still is.  Nobody does.  He’s the cockiest man to ever grace Sin City Wrestling’s roster, but they fucking love him.  Manipulating the fans is way too easy these days.  You can be a raging prick, but say that you are happy to be in their shitty town, and they roar with approval.  Case en point…

Giani shows off his NXT shirt, spinning around in a circle slowly before flexing his muscles, putting a massive amount of strain on his NXT arm band.  He pumps his fist as he works his way through the last section of the crowd, stepping up to Rocky Mountains who extends her hand out politely toward Giani.  He takes it, planting a kiss on the back side of it like a true gentleman.  She blushes as she looks out into the audience with a look of surprise.  They quietly talk for just a moment as the cameraman prepares himself for the interview to start.

Mystery Fan:  He makes it look so easy, but it’s not.  He must work out for hours every single day, drinking all sorts of chemical cocktails to maintain that physique.  But the hard part has got to be playing this audience like a guitar.  The idiots eat it up like it was going to run out.  But that ego will only get bigger and bigger until they can’t handle it any more.  Go on, Giani… Talk yourself up.  Tell us why you are somehow better than your opponents, even if you are just another cog in the machine, same as them…

Giani gives one last fist pump session as the cameraman holds his thumb up.  The crowd roars for him as Rocky turns slightly toward Giani, trying to get the smile off of her face to get down to serious business.

MRM:  Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the My Bloody Valentine Weekend Bash!  All of your favorite Sin City Wrestling Stars and Bombshells ARE PRESENT here tonight, and will be all weekend.  This is all leading up to the much anticipated Supercard on Sunday.  Major announcements to be made, and some exciting matches guaranteed to keep the fans on the edge of their seats!

The fans erupt into cheers once again as Rocky hypes the upcoming show.  She allows them a second or two to get it out before she turns a little more toward Giani.

MRM:  And what a way to kick things off than a web exclusive interview right here from the Star of the Desert Arena with none other than the SCW Heavyweight Champion… GIANI DI LUCA?!?

The fans cheer once more before the cameraman turns to get Giani in the shot.  Giani pumps his fist quickly in the air for his fans before he turns a little more toward Rocky, but keeping his eye on the fans.

MRM:  Thanks for being here, Giani.

Giani:  I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  The fans are the whole reason we do what we do, so of course I’m gonna be here.

Mystery Fan:  … kiss ass…

Giani nods his head as he turns away from the microphone, mouthing something at the fans to get them to cheer him on again.  He soaks it up like a sponge, welcoming it to continue pouring in until Rocky brings his attention back to the interview.

MRM:  The entirety of the SCW fandom was shocked to hear that you would be defending your title against, not one, not two, but THREE men in the Main Event at My Bloody Valentine.  What are your thoughts on that?

Giani:  Bring it on, baby!  I told the fans, and all the doubters and haters, that when… not if, but when… I won this title, I would rise to the occasion for any defense, whether it be the biggest, baddest kid in SCW, or whether it was every single one of them.  I ain’t no scared champion.  I’m proud of the title and the history behind it, and I wanna be one of the great names listed when people remember this belt.  I begged people to come at me.  Fuhgeddaboudit, Rocky…

Giani shrugs his shoulders as he lifts the corner of his mouth up just a bit as if to ask why he wouldn’t be thrilled about this defense.  He winks into the camera before nodding his head and returning his focus to Rocky.

Mystery Fan:  Play it up, kiddo…  Work that camera, and the fans.  I’m the only one who sees what a jackass you really are…

Giani:  But in all seriousness, I asked people to tell me why they deserved it.  Do ya know what I got?  A whole freakin’ lot of nothin’, that’s what!  As the champion, I am a leader, and I take that role very seriously.  I let it slide this once, but I’m goin’ on record right now as sayin’ that from here on out, I wanna see this roster step it up about fifty fuckin’ notches, dawg.  I ain’t gonna deal with half assed competition after My  Bloody Valentine…

MRM:  Half assed roster?  Are you implying that your opponents for My Bloody Valentine are anything less than stellar?

Mystery Fan:  To say the least…

Giani lowers his sunglasses for a moment as he rolls his eyes.  He places the palm of his hand on his forehead and shakes it shamelessly as the audience chuckles at his display.  Giani turns fully toward them as he holds his arms out to his side as if to ask them what they were laughing at.  Rocky shakes her head, trying to conceal a smirk as Giani finally turns back around.

Giani:  Um, fuck yes!  THAT is exactly what I’m sayin’.  Maybe I should rephrase it so that even the simplest of minds like Jamie Staggs could get it… They are lazy.  They are needlessly arrogant.  They have a whole helluva lot to prove that shoulda been taken care of before this match was booked.  It looks like three people just pulled names outta their asses.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m not bitchin’ about facin’ three guys at once.  But I said it before, and I’ll say it again.  These guys?  They freakin’ suck!  Sorry, but I ain’t gonna lie…

MRM:  We all know that you have some pretty strong opinions on Max Burke, but is it possible that it is because you allowed him to attack you without any repercussion at all?

Mystery Fan:  Oh shit… We just might see the asshole come out after that one.  Use that restraint that you have deep down not to smack a bitch, please…

Giani bites at his bottom lip, and only the most observant of spectators could see the tiny bit of blood that comes from this bite.  He licks it away quickly and then smiles, laughing at the question posed to him.

Giani:  Have ya seen My Bloody Valentine yet?  Oh no, cause it hasn’t happened yet.  I coulda tracked down that slimy, cowardly little bastard backstage somewhere.  I coulda sniffed out his girlfriends smelly parts like a bloodhound.  I coulda beat the ever livin’ piss outta him.  But I don’t handle my business that way.  I let it eat at me.  I let the ignorant comments, like the one you just made, build up inside of me, and then I get the bitch in the ring, and I embarrass him in front of an entire audience.  I don’t need to attack him backstage, or from behind like a punk.  I got him in the ring this Sunday, and I don’t care if I gotta work my way through two other motherfuckas to get to him, he will pay.  Fuhgeddaboudit…

Rocky:  Why don’t you tell us how you really feel?  Heh, now on to…

Giani holds up his hand for a second, stopping Rocky dead in her tracks.  She looks confused as Giani leans in over the microphone, looking directly into the camera.

Giani:  I didn’t say I was finished.  See, I wanted to make sure that Max Burke hears me loud and clear.  I am the champion, and I have this belt for a reason.  I destroyed Goth in Match of the… Entire Existence of Sin City Wrestling just a little under two months ago.  I was bruised, bloodied, and battered, and I got that painted up freak to mutter the two words nobody every thought he would say… “I Quit”… Nobody thought I could handle hardcore cause I’m a spotless technician.  Hell, let’s step back a little over a month before that even.  I took out Kain and Simon Jones, even scoring a pinfall over the second longest reigning Heavyweight Champion of SCW History in Nick Jones.  I was the only person in that match who had never been within inches of the belt.  The Jones’ both former champions and Kain a challenger a few times over.  I won the right to face Goth and took the belt from him.  I defeated Damien Kingston two weeks later.  I proved my worth.  What has he done since he got here? Let’s see…

Giani acts like he is thinking hard about this one, but it only lasts half of a second before he opens his mouth in faux shock.

Giani:  Oh yeah, exactly fuck all!  Do I sound like a broken record lately?  Well, when ya got someone who has done nothin’ but beat Kain’s ass twice, and lose to Jeremiah Hardin, then get *extreme air quotes* injured by The Saviors… it’s kinda hard to come up with somethin’ new to say about him.  I would bring up the fact that he walks around with Mark Ward’s shit on his nose, but the big brown spot is proof enough of that.  He don’t deserve to be in this match, but I’m not gonna let it stop me from pickin’ off the weakest link first.  My Bloody Valentine is get-back time, dawg… That little sneak attack is suddenly gonna seem like a really bad idea, Maxi Pad…  Now I’m finished with him…

The audience howls in approval at Giani’s point as he shakes his head from side to side to emphasize his point.  Rocky seems taken aback by this as she has to soak it all in, taking a few deep breaths as Giani waves his arms up in the air to get the fans going again.

MRM:  Clearly you came prepared for that statement.  As much as I would like to disagree with your opinion of Max Burke, I can’t fight that… But what about Jeremiah Hardin?

Giani:  He only wishes he was where I was when I debuted here.  Yeah, he got a belt and had a small run with it where my first title reign came much later… but I was takin’ out bigger threats with my eyes closed.  And if someone had the balls to call the entire roster out, you better bet ya damn life that I woulda came out and had a few words to say.  But Hardin stayed in the back like a punk.  He probably shit himself when he heard he was gonna have to face “The Italian Stallion” in a Main Event at a Supercard.  I actually heard that happened from Kenny Chisholm, but that’s off the record… It would explain why he kept his mouth shut last week and didn’t put nothin’ up for the fans to see.  He was embarrassed that people saw him ride the Hershey Highway straight outta the venue two weeks ago.  Not to mention the fact that he probably realizes that he’s got no chance, and that he was put in there as a consolation prize for losin’ to Brother Grimm like a week before that.

Mystery Fan:  Somebody get this guy a shovel, because he is digging shit up right now…

Giani shrugs his shoulders as the fans get quiet for the other fan favorite in this match.  Giani raises an eyebrow, but he would rather be honest and unpopular for it than lie his way through this interview.

Giani:  I’m just statin’ facts here.  Could Hardin be a badass?  Yeah, he’s got the makings of a FUTURE Heavyweight Champ.  He’s got style.  He’s got class.  He’s even got some charisma.  But he ain’t seasoned enough, at least in a company with potential talent like Sin City Wrestlin’.  Learn the ropes around here, kid, and maybe one day I might take ya serious, and we could have a good time puttin’ on an amazin’ show for the fans.  But until then, just remember that if ya stay outta my way, I won’t hafta pin ya ass in the middle of the ring, and ya won’t be too embarrassed.  No hard feelin’s, bro… it’s just business.

MRM:  Well, I would like to suggest that we move on to Kain, but I better make sure you’re finished with talking about Hardin before I do so…

Giani nods his head, flashing her a playful smile as if to apologize for snapping a few moments ago.  He wraps his arms around her, holding her closely to erase any idea that he might truly be an asshole.

Giani:  Yeah, not much to say about that one.  Really, Kain is no different than the others.  Even if he half way earned a spot in this match, it still don’t mean he truly deserves it.  To be honest, nobody in SCW has shown that they deserve it lately, except for yours truly of course… But I can at least understand how Kain made it here.  He won a Number One Contenders match by disqualification.  Sucks to say, but technically he’s got a case.  Now, I’m not sayin’ that Kain ain’t good at what he does.  I’ve seen some of the bloodiest matches involving Kain.  He’s taken down some beasts in the ring.  But the facts are this… Kain ain’t at my level.  He was one of the guys I beat to get the Number One Contenders spot to begin with.  He is blinded by rage in the ring, and he lacks the focus of a Heavyweight Champion.  If he ever learns to control his temper, and get off his ass when a top dog issues pretty much an open challenge… Then I might take him serious.  But until that day comes, I know I got absolutely nothin’ to worry about.  On February 3rd, after all the dust settles, I already know that I’m still gonna be the champion.  I’m not worried, but I’m not gonna take this lightly either.  I’m gonna get in there and make short work of these jokers, and then I’m gonna go out and celebrate after the show.  As a matter of fact, anyone who sees this is invited to the celebration party I never got to have after I won this thing to begin with… I’ll even buy the first round!

The audience cheers as Giani pumps himself up.  He raises his arms in the air as the fans chant his name.  He hoists the Heavyweight strap up into the air proudly, shaking it to the beat of their song.

MRM:  Wow, some powerful words from the champion!  That concludes this interview, but check the website all weekend for exclusive promos and interviews from the Stars and Bombshells of Sin City Wrestling!  I’m Ms. Rocky Mountains, reminding everyone to tune in to My Bloody Valentine, streaming live from scwrestling.net!

The cameraman slowly pans out to show the cheering fans for a moment before cutting the camera off.  However, Giani’s self indulgence doesn’t stop there.  He walks back in to the crowd, getting them all worked up as the mystery fan turns around and walks off in the opposite direction.  Another camera flash shows the wide, perfectly sadistic smile as we fade out…

{I got my speakers on, speakers on, speakers on… I got my speakers on WRECKED!}


{fin}

 {Wrecking Ball}

”Here I am again on New Years Eve, sitting inside of a club, surrounded by hundreds of people, yet I’ve never felt so alone.  This path to redemption has made me a much better person, and honestly, it wasn’t totally selfless.  It made me feel better, but tonight puts me right back where I was two months ago.  I feel miserable, but I’m not showin’ it as I dance to the music.”

“Do What U Want” plays over the sound system as the lights at Club LAX dance across the crowd, glistening off of the exposed skin of the club patrons.  New Years Eve banners hang from the stage as well over the bar.  A champagne fountain sits to the left of the dance floor, glowing a soft pink under the lights.  We move directly onto the dance floor as we focus on Sin City Wrestling’s Heavyweight Champion, “The Italian Stallion” Giani DI Luca.  He is in his usual club attire, meaning sagged jeans, exposing his Calvin Klein waist band due to his shirt hanging out of the back pocket as he moves to the music. By the looks of things, Giani is his usual self, smiling as he shows off his impressive physique.  He has a pair of rosary beads hanging from his neck, swaying with his body.  The ladies, and a surprising number of men, circle around Giani, trying to show off their best moves to catch his attention.  They don’t realize that his eyes and his mind are a million miles away from there.  The music switches over to “Wrecking Ball” and this doesn’t seem to help Giani’s mindset at all.

”As much as I can’t stand the Teddy Bear Rapist, Miley Cyrus, I’m feelin’ this song.  If ya asked me tomorrow, I would deny it, but this on-again off-again thing with Dixie has been rough on me.  Part of me wants to just give up and tell her to get lost.  It tells me to go after the third Waters’ sister for the trifecta,  Sorry ‘bout it Tommy Staggs…  But yeah, that’s not what I’m about anymore.  I owe it to myself to move on, but I just can’t right now.  All the pressure for that New Years kiss is weighin’ on me.”

Hands come over Giani’s body as people try their best to cop a feel, anywhere they can.  He barely seems to even notice it, even with the manly hands groping him.  Everything is just a blur as he loses himself deeper and deeper in thought.  Besides, the ego stroking isn’t anything new to him.

”I can’t seem to get her outta my head.  I’ve pretty much always gone stag.  The Bianca thing was the moment I decided I would stay that way.  Maybe I got too caught up in this life-changin’ experience?  Maybe I wasn’t ready for so many changes at once?  I did change up almost everythin’ about me.  Bitter asshole to life of the party.  Vindictive to liberated.  Victim to hero.  Conceded to… well, we can’t change everythin’ all at once, right?  My point is that maybe I wasn’t ready to become a one-woman kinda guy.  There’s all these fine ladies surroundin’ me here tonight, but I can’t get my mind off’a one who can’t be bothered to return a freakin’ text.  Seems like a Waters family trait…”

Giani continues to move like nothing is wrong.  He falls into the song, and while slow, he finds a way to make it attractive, removing the attention from the hurt look in his eyes.  A part of him is hopeful that she would walk through the sinfully decorated door.  His eyes rest on it as he sways with the music.  As long as the music continues on through the whole night, he could keep up his appearance just fine.  After all, who would dare look into his sullen eyes with a glistening, chiseled chest like that?  Giani’s eyes rest on the stage next to the DJ booth and he forces his way through the crowd, a look of determination painted over his face like an emotional mask.

”What did I do the last time I ran into this problem?  I moved on to bigger and better things.  I focused on my career, and I won the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Championship.  Where is there to go from here?  I’ve already defeated the best that this company has to offer.  What do I focus my attention on?  A new girl?  Nah, I’m done with broads right now.  They mess with my head too damn much.  I feel so… so… trapped.”

Giani mumbles something under his breath to the cage dancer, center stage and she gives him a wink, slowing her dance.  Giani gently opens the door and he climbs inside.  Soon, the music transitions over to “Iron” by Calvin Harris.  The lights flash over Giani as the crowd roars.  Cage dancing definitely wasn’t Giani’s style, but he was seeking thrills tonight.  He wraps his hands around the bars on the cage, giving them a fierce rattle before dropping his hips down, crouching on the ground before hopping up, and working the beat to death.

”Here it is, 11:30pm on New Years Eve, and I’m in the strangest place imaginable… alone, dateless, and in a cage.  But that’s fine by me.  I got some Euro House to dance to, and I’m gonna kill it.  TMZ is here, so it’s time to make some headlines again.  ‘Former reality TV star gone Wrestler breaks a hundred hearts in five minutes…’  I like it.  After a little fun, and a lot of drinks, I can focus on my next challenge.  Max Burke… Kain… a few names tossed around backstage.  Bring it…”

Giani is working the cage unlike anyone before him, to the point that the stage is surrounded with screaming girls and a select few men, reaching their hands out like a One Direction concert.  Giani just soaks it in, working his biceps and pectorals as his body glows in the black light, catching each and every rippling of his muscles as he lowers himself down to the level of the audience.  However, as soon as he gets half way down, he sees a rather unexpected face.  Spike Staggs stands in the newly formed clearing, simply staring at Giani.  Spike waves a finger toward himself before finding a vacated table nearby.  Giani rolls his eyes as he finishes working his crowd.

”Of course, Mr. Gloom N’ Doom’s gotta come and ruin the party right as it was gettin’ started…  Go figure, eh?  I guess when this song is over, I should go see what the hell he wants.  I’m gonna take a wild guess that he wants to do some random trainin’ session at the gym down the road.  That guy needs to learn to enjoy life and not leave his girl unattended on New Years Eve… Or not?”

Giani looks over to see a well built woman walking over toward Spike in a stylish winter jacket and some tight fitting jeans.  Her fur lined hood covers her face, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it’s Vixen.  As the music comes to and end, Giani plays to the crowd, taking a bow.  As the bills come onto the stage, Giani simply leaves them for the kind woman who allowed him the opportunity to work off some steam.  Giani walks down the steps and forces his way through the sea of gropes and screams.  He slowly works his way over to Spike and Vixen at the table.  He slams his hands down on the table and looks right into Spike’s eyes, almost ignoring Vixen entirely as he keeps it short and sweet.

Giani:  What?

Spike looks taken aback by Giani’s reaction as he gently strokes his chin, an intrigued smile on his face as he almost flicks his tongue out in response.  Giani rolls his eyes once again to make sure that Spike gets it.  Giani growls and gets down lower toward Spike.

Giani:  Whats’a matter, dawg?  You didn’t hear me?

Spike:  Listen up meat head… There is nothing wrong with my hearing.  But you might want to rethink your nasty fucking attitude.  It’s embarrassing, honestly.

Giani takes a deep breath, calming himself down slowly as he keeps his eyes on Spike.  He sighs out as he notices Spike is gesturing toward Vixen.  Giani gets a bit weirded out by what he thinks Spike might be suggesting.

Giani:  I don’t know what ya gettin’ at bro, but I’m not down for that kinda action.

Spike:  What?  But…?

Giani:  Look, I dunno if I sent some kinda message on Climax Control, but I don’t swing that way and…

Spike rests his head on the palm of his hand, shaking it uncomfortably.  Before Spike can say anything “Vixen” brings her hood back to reveal that…

Dixie:  Are you sure about that?  It looked pretty damn passionate to me, Gi…

… it wasn’t Vixen at all.  Instead, the one person Giani hadn’t been able to get out of his mind for the better part of a week now, had been standing in front of him all along, but he had been so blinded by his own self pity to see what was right in front of him.  Dixie nods at Spike who winks in response, standing up from the table and departing.  Giani almost goes into a cold sweat as he turns to see Dixie sitting there, not seeming very amused as she stares at him with her big, beautiful blue eyes.

Giani:  Dixie…  Uh, hi.  Did ya forget how to text, or did ya learn the cold shoulder from Misty?

Dixie:  No, actually I learned it the second I saw your lips against my sister’s… Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Giani sits down at the table, but he doesn’t say a word.  He simply stares at her, trying to find the words to say what he needs to say.  It doesn’t come to him, and he remains happy with the silence.  Dixie mimics him for a moment, remaining silent over the music.

Giani:  I guess it wouldn’t change nothin’ if I told ya I was sorry.  Not that it matters, but I really am.

Giani trails off as he turns to look out into the audience.  There is likely some other celebrity there who has stolen his thunder, but he decides not to focus on it too much.  Instead, he focuses on NOT looking at Dixie.

Dixie:  Yeah, it does matter.  I guess I should apologize for not really knowing who I was dating.  I chose to only see the good, and ignore the bad until it was shoved in my face a couple of times.

Giani:  I mean no disrespect, but why exactly did ya come here if you was gonna just rub in my face that I got plenty of work to do on myself?  Like I didn’t already know that… Like…

Dixie practically shoves the table out of the way as she plants her lips against his.  Giani seems completely and utterly surprised as he succumbs to it, returning the favor as he pulls her in closer.  It has become clear to him that they are a match made in Reality Television Heaven.  The drama was what he had always lacked, but something about this seemed appealing to him.  As soon as she releases her grip on him and leans back into her seat, Giani looks completely confused.  He simply moves his lips, silently mouthing “What the…?”

Dixie:  Look, just because I know that you aren’t perfect, that doesn’t mean that I don’t see the good in you.  There is plenty of it, more than you give yourself credit for.  I need to learn not to be so naïve.  Misty, of all people, told me that I shouldn’t have been so surprised by the double lip lock display, and told me that I had better just run away now if I couldn’t handle the “Italian Stallion”.  Guess what I chose to do?

Giani:  Ah, it’s cool.  I know I’m a lot to handle and…

Giani smirks as he sticks his tongue out at her.  She smacks his arm playfully once, and on the second try, Giani grabs her arm and pulls her in for another romantic kiss.  He doesn’t even notice the countdown had started until the count of four.

3!

He pauses, looking deep into her eyes as her lips quiver in anticipation.  She wants to fight it, but she knows that she can’t. His warm breaths cause her to close her eyes and turn her head slightly to the side.

2!

Giani feels her breaths tickling his tongue as her lips tease their presence once more, and he all but begs for them.  It doesn’t hit him that he has never done this New Years Eve tradition before, and it promises to reward him.

1!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

The confetti rains down over all of the club patrons as the horns blow.  The loudest noise is Giani’s heart practically coming to a halt as their lips meet again, and again, and again.  His heart kickstarts itself as he stands up, towering over Dixie.  She wraps her arms around him, a smile spread across her face to match the one on Giani’s face, marking the best start of a year that he has had in his 25 years of life.  The crowd goes wild around them as we slowly fade out.


*************************************************

”Redemption isn’t point B.  It isn’t a straight line that one follows.  It’s one crazy ass journey full of twists and turns.  Like the old Traction Park, it’s an unpredictable ride, and ya almost promised to leave with an injury or two.  But in the end, it’s worth it…”

***********************************************

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{Smack Down}

The screen remains black as “Smack Down” by Thousand Foot Krutch begins playing.  It starts off with a bang as the lyrics roll across the screen.  After about a minute of playing, the screen fades in to get a view of Staggs Dungeon, as seen through a web cam.  After a few seconds, Giani comes onto the screen, a chipper sort of smile spread across his face.  He does his infamous laugh as the music slowly fades out.  The sound of a few key strokes are heard as Giani types for a second.  He seems to check out his reflection in the screen, making sure that his hair is firmly in place.  He picks at his teeth quickly, making sure that he is picture perfect.  He leans back, taking a seat as he picks up a bottle of Smart Water, taking a sip from the cool, dew covered bottle.  He places the label pointing toward the camera as he gets comfortable, showing off his “2014 Year of the Stallion” T-Shirt.

Giani:  Hello again to all my loyal fans.  This is ya SCW Heavyweight Champion… “The Italian Stallion”, “The Reflection of Perfection”… Giani Di Luca, comin’ atcha live from Staggs Dungeon.  Of course I just got done trainin’ for my upcomin’ match, and I thought I would share some exclusive content with you, the fans.  So here it goes, a wild trip inside my head as I prepare to face “The Freight Train of…”  *chuckles*  “”Pain”… Casey Williams.

Giani chuckles again at the mere mentioning of Casey William’s name.  He shakes his head, giving pause for the audience to join in with the seemingly inside joke (inside his head, maybe?)  After a moment, Giani takes another sip of water, followed by another, and another… an yet another.

Giani:  Sorry, I’m just really parched.  I mean, I could sit here and bore ya by drinkin’ a bottle of water, and sayin’ lame shit like “to boot”, but I’m too cool for that.  I’m just gonna skip it, even though Smart Water is the way to, dare I say it… “Hydrate Responsibly…”  I find it irresponsible to bore my fans, even though I get paid a nice chunk of change to promote Smart Water.  Casey does it without endorsement.  But that’s not my style, so here goes…

Giani sets the bottle down, carefully moving it around so that the label is in plain sight of the camera.  Giani leans back in his chair, cupping his hands behind his head as he turns ever so slightly, gathering his thoughts as his eyes wander around the gym.

Giani:  Let me start off by tellin’ ya a little story.  See, once upon a time, there was this giant who thought that just cause of his size, he deserved more than his peers.  He went into battle week in, and week out, and he lost… week in and week out.  He bitched about it, he moaned about it, he even went as far as to cry about it, dawg… No joke.  Instead of takin’ tips from his friends, he went on to suck more ass than the dude wearin’ the pink “Mustache Rides” T-Shirt in the front row of December 2 Dismember… Seriously, go watch the replay if ya don’t believe me.

Giani does a freeze frame pose as if giving a moment for the audience to rent the supercard on the internet.  After just a few seconds, Giani busts out laughing.

Giani:  I told ya!  *Clears throat*  Ahem… anyway, back to the story…  This dude decided that, even though he brought everyone around him down, he was too good for the people that made him everythin’ that he was.  It’s cool, it’s cool.  I heard that person in the back covering up the word “hypocrite” with a cough.  Don’t act all innocent.  The thing is that he went on to suck even worse than he did before.  He hid from the repercussions of his former peers.  Matter of fact, the only one who got to send him off with a bing, bang, boom “Shuff-ff-fflin’: style was yours truly.

Giani gives his best boxing maneuvers that he can from a chair at such a sort distance.  He does a little dance with it  before resting his fist right in front of the camera, allowing a close up of the letters “NXT” written in black between his knuckles.  He slowly retracts it as he focuses in on the camera.

Giani:  I came in for the save of a lifetime, only to make my own impact.  I did what Casey has never been able to do in his entire career.  I made people pay attention to me.  I brought all eyes on me, and I never let ‘em leave me.  I didn’t need titles for attention.  Titles came because of the attention.  I let ya know what was up, and ya learned ya motherfuckin’ place after that, didn’t ya?  Through the whole Team Wars, you was always well behind me, and ya knew it was where ya belonged.  Ya was neutered, bro.  Erik Staggs ripped ya balls off, and ya haven’t ever taken them back.  They’re in a jar on his mantle.

Giani smirks as he looks away from the camera, having fun playing with his prey as evil intent shines through, but only for a split second.  He looks back to the camera and his smile fades slightly as a look of pure determination comes over his face instead.

Giani:  Ya runnin’ around, settin’ people’s houses on fire like it somehow makes ya a badass.  Really, ya like a jealous ex girlfriend.  Ya can’t take it that Simon Jones is way better than ya could ever dream of bein’.  Casey, get over it… he’s just not that into you, bro…  He’s done bein’ dragged down by you.  After he whoops ya ass at My Bloody Valentine… available streamin’ on scwrestling.net on February 2nd… who are ya gonna ride off of their success?  Nobody, kid.  Ya gonna hafta set someone else’s house on fire, maybe wind up in a loony bin next to Kittie and Rage.

Giani takes a deep breath, pausing for a moment while looking back to the ring behind him in the background.  He slowly looks back toward the camera, still as serious as ever.

Giani:  I went off on a tangent, but the moral of the story is this, Casey…  Ya never gonna beat me.  For some reason, ya wanna make everyone hate ya, and let me just say this… Mission Accomplished.  The problem is that I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya just cause this ain’t a title match.  I’m gonna come out there and I’m gonna whoop some serious ass like I always do, because… well, it’s what I do.  C’mon, kid.  That’s how ya become a Heavyweight Champion, is by comin’ at it like it’s the biggest match of ya career.

Giani reaches over across the screen, showing off the NXT arm band on his right arm.  He holds it there so that the camera focuses in on it for a while. He leaves it there for a moment before retracting it.

Giani:  Spike Staggs said that once someone is NXT, they are always NXT.  Apparently that applies, even to you.  Go the Mickey Carroll way, and don’t flaunt it,  Just get gone, dawg.  Stay gone, Casey.  I don’t wanna pretend that while I’m kickin’ ya ass, it’s in the name of good sportsmanship.  I want the world to know that I can’t stand ya, and I want them to know that every left, right, kick, suplex, DDT, clothesline, and Jersey Turnpike that ya get is outta pure detest.  I want them to know that I’m comin’ for blood.  Instead of tryin’ to better ya situation, followin’ the path to redemption like me… ya choose to embarrass yas’elf, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let ya embarrass NXT after we worked so hard to build it back up after every single blow it took over the last year.  Maybe if ya lucky, I’ll break ya neck, and ya won’t even make it to My Bloody Valentine… again, streamin’ live on scwrestling.net on February 2nd…  And Simon can get back to makin’ somethin’ outta his career again.

Giani leans back in his chair, relaxing his stance ever so slightly as he takes another drink from his Smart Water bottle, flipping the sports cap closed as he adjusts it in the view of the camera once more.

Giani:  If ya got a problem with anythin’ I said here today, Casey, then do me a favor.  Come at me, bro.  Come at me with everythin’ ya got, kid.  I wanna see some spark in ya.  I wanna see that fire.  I wanna see ya give it ya all.  Prove me wrong, Casey.  I dare ya.  Give it one last go, and make me sweat.  Make me regret sayin’ every one of those harsh truths, cause that’s the only way you will ever make somethin’ outta ya career.  I know ya got it in ya, somewhere deep down.  As the Heavyweight Champion, it’s my responsibility to make sure that the roster lives up to a certain level.  I’m steppin’ outta the Main Event slot so that I can weed out the weak of this roster, and Casey?  Right now, ya as weak as they come.  Step it up, or get the fuck outta my ring.  Fuhgeddaboudit!

With that, Giani picks up his bottle of Smart Water and he takes a big drink, savoring it for a moment before sliding it into his duffel bag quickly.  “Smack Down: begins playing again in the background as Giani gets up from the chair.  He pushes it in closer to the camera as he walks off into the background.  He leaps up on the ropes of the ring, quickly getting inside.  He loosens up as a faint shadow of someone standing across the ring from him is seen.  He slowly stalks his way closer, getting into a tie up with the person, wrenching his arms against theirs as he muscles them toward a corner with every bit of his strength and out of view.  The two men are heard struggling as we fade out with the music.


{I got my speakers on WRECKED!}


{fin}

 ”It’s like a drug that I don’t think I can recover from on my own…  The high I get from it is wayyy too intense.  As soon as I got my hands on it, all of the pain, all of the lost blood, all of the exhaustion… it just left my body for a lil minute, yaknowhatimsayin’?  I feel invincible right now.  There is no stopping “The Italian Stallion” right now…  But how long is that gonna last?  I hear they got some serious plans for good ole Giani Di Luca before the year ends.  There’s this Battle Royal for the right to face me, on my birthday no less, for the title that I fought so hard to win.  But, it’s cool, it’s cool… I understand that bein’ a champion mean havin’ to defend ya title.  Hell, I almost want to jump into this battle royal myself to prove that I ain’t broken.  I ain’t nowhere near finished with this belt, neither.  I’m at the top, and I’m sittin’ pretty.  So bring it on, Sin City.  Prove to me that ya belong in the same league as the “Italian Stallion”  Give it ya best shot, and then I’ll go on to prove that it was no fluke that I won this damned thing.  2014 is the year of the Stallion according to Chinese Astrology.  Whoever is lucky enough to win this thing better hope that the Chinese don’t know what they’re talkin’ about…”

Immediately After December 2 Dismember II

{Beautiful Pain}

The lights shine in Giani’s eyes as he hoists the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Championship high in the air.  “Wrecked” is playing in the background.  The words are still echoing in his ears, hearing Goth say “I… I quit…” almost felt unreal to him, but no more than holding the Heavyweight belt in his hands.  Feeling the cold leather and gold between his fingers is the only thing that makes him realize that this is really happening.  He could hear his biggest fan, a child no more than ten years of age, crying out to him.

Boy:  WAY TO GO GIANI!  I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!!!

Through the almost blinding crimson mask he is wearing, feeling it start to cake on his face, he can see the boys face filled with tears of terror from the horrific match he had just taken part in.  But a new stream is forming on his face because of the joy and relief he feels as he watches his idol hold the belt up high.  Luckily for him, the blood hides the emotional tear he feels himself at the sight.  Giani walks over to the right side of the ramp, motioning for the boy to come over the railing.  The medical team files through the curtains and down the ramp, trying to talk Giani into retreating to the back, but he shoves them off of him.  He continues to wave the boy through the crowd.  His parents nod their heads as the crowd parts way.  Security tries to stop Giani, but he is on a mission, muttering under his breath at the guy.  The boy makes it to the barricade and Giani uses what little strength he has left to lift the kid up and over.  The kid is almost in shock as he jumps up and down, tugging at Giani’s free arm.

Boy:  I can’t believe you have the title, Giani!

Giani is still winded, looking down at the boy, he is starting to feel the brutality of the match catching up with him.  After struggling for a few deep breaths, Giani nods his head, trying to muster up the strength to speak.  His voice is hoarse and crackling as he speaks.

Giani:  Yeah… you and me both, kid…

Giani places the title on the boy’s shoulder, lifting him up as the fans cheer him on.  The emotion in the Newark Pavilion is at an all-time high as the “NXT” and “Giani” chants ring around him, almost drowning out the music.  Cameras flash at Giani, showing off the support that he has gained in just one month’s time.  He turns slightly to allow everyone to get a picture of this moment.  He sets the boy down and looks to the security guard as the medical team continues shouting at him all at once.  He can barely hear them, but he makes sure to get his point across to the security guard.

Giani:  Get the kid and his family backstage passes.

Security Guard:  Are you sure that’s wise?  You need to rest, and you don’t really know them.

Giani:  I didn’t fuckin’ stutter, bro…  Get ‘em backstage.  I am these people’s champion.  If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have this belt!

Giani all but shoves the belt in the security guard’s face.  He holds his hands up in surrender and walks off, getting on a walkie talkie.  It isn’t long before Erik Staggs comes out amongst the medical team, practically shouting in his ear.

Erik:  MR. DI LUCA!  YOU NEED MEDICAL TREATMENT!  I MUST INSIST YOU ABIDE BY THE WISHES OF THE MEDICAL TEAM!

Giani turns around, presumably with a look of disdain as he bumps into Erik Staggs’ shoulder.  He glares at Staggs for a moment before stumbling up the ramp, feeling the aftershock of the match more than ever.  Giani gets to the curtains, turning once more to hold the belt up high in the air for the fans, eliciting one last cheer from them.  The medical team practically shoves him back through the curtains.  He doesn’t have much more in him right now to protest it, so he follows along with them.  As soon as he gets behind the second set of curtains, he is greeted by a massive hug from Jessie Salco.  Vixen is clapping like mad before Mickey gives him a harsh pat on the back.

Mickey:  Oi! That’s how it’s done, Itie!

Misty gives him a gentle pat on the back, possibly the most sympathetic of the pain that is starting to surge through his entire body.  Giani puts on a brave face as Spike grabs onto his hand, firmly shaking it.  Spike’s face is filled with pride and utter excitement, as if he had won the belt himself.

Spike:  Congratulations on the biggest win of your career.  How does it feel?

Giani:  Honestly, it feels like my entire body is gonna fall to pieces, bro… but not until my skull cracks in half.  Hahahaha.

Giani does his infamously obnoxious laugh as the medical team continues to rush him along, more or less carrying him at this point.  Giani finally surrenders to the pain and the exhaustion, scooting along as quickly as he can.  Spike leans in to give Vixen a peck on the cheek, muttering something to her before jogging to catch up with the team.  He hooks one of Giani’s arms around his neck to support him.

Spike:  Dude, you have no idea how hard it was to stay out of that match.  I have been in some brutal matches before, but you two nearly killed each other.

Spike gives a gentle nod to the blood smeared across the walls on either side of them.  Giani acknowledges them almost as if he is proud of it as maintenance is seen scrubbing the walls down with heavy duty chemicals.

Giani:  Thanks for that… The last thing I needed was that jackass sayin’ I won cause my buddies got involved.

They walk past the collapsed catering table that was crushed by Giani’s own weight just about a half an hour prior.  His blood covered lips curl into a smile as he almost chuckles at it.  Giani pants as they get closer to the door marked with a temporary placard that reads “Zoey Carpenter – Head Nurse”.  The medical team pushes the door open as they quickly guide Giani over to a medical bed covered in paper.  Giani lies down, looking up at the ceiling.  He sees Spike checking in at him, but his face is eclipsed by the shadow from the light.  Giani takes in as deep of a breath as he can, trying to relax as everything hits him like a freight train.  Spike moves to sit in a chair near the bed.  Giani focuses in on the florescent light above him, starting to fade out into a daydream of sorts.  Spike sighs in a mixture of uncertainty and relief, knowing exactly where Giani sits.  He finds a clean towel and begins gently wiping at Giani’s face.

Zoey:  Quite the masochist, aren’t we Mr. Di Luca?

Giani sighs as Spike gives momentary pause to cleaning Giani’s face up.  He gives Zoey a smirk before turning back to the light, remaining silent.  Zoey clears her throat as she opens up her supply cabinet.  She brings out some wrapping and medical tape, setting it on a rolling tray by the bed.  She flicks out the tiny flashlight, clicking it as she runs it from Giani’s left to his right.  She watches for his reaction as he instinctively follows it.  She places the stethoscope to his chest, moving it around a bit after a moment.  She brings it down to his stomach, giving his body a quick once over.

Zoey:  I don’t think you have a concussion.  Everything sounds normal, but I would advise a trip to the Emergency Room, if for nothing else, to stitch your forehead and bridge.  Is there any pain in your neck?

Giani:  I think there’s a little pain in every bone in my body, lady.  So yeah, there’s pain in my…

*BLAGHHHHHH*

Giani leans over and wretches his guts on the floor.  Spike quickly moves his feet out of the way as Giani eventually stops.  He stays on his side for a minute to make sure he’s finished as Zoey gives him a look of relief mixed with a look of concern.

Zoey:  I would put money on you having whiplash, Mr. Di Luca.  I’m going to get your head taped up, and clean up the nicks a bit, and then I want you to go straight to the hospital, okay?

Giani nods his head, remaining silent, through his embarrassed expression.  He rolls over onto his back, mesmerized by the light once more as he wipes at his mouth.  The light seems to make the pain fade ever so slightly as he takes in short breaths through his nose.  Zoey steps around the vomit on the floor carefully, trying not to further embarrass Giani.  She looks to Spike as she unwinds the medical tape slightly.

Zoey:  Please, make sure he gets to the hospital immediately.  What he’s feeling right now is nothing compared to how he will feel in the coming hours.

Spike:  I have been through matches nearly as brutal on multiple occasions… I will drive him there myself…

Zoey nods her head as she places a piece of gauze over the cut on his forehead.  She then pulls the tape over Giani’s forehead.  She presses it firmly on Giani’s forehead, causing him to wince in pain.  He lifts his head up as she begins to place a wrap around Giani’s head.  She pulls it tightly to apply the proper amount of pressure as Giani chooses to stay focused on the light.

Zoey:  Get him there quickly, and don’t be surprised if you have to get your car detailed afterward, because the nausea will only grow worse as the pain increases.

Spike:  I have two kids, and a brother who is almost like a third kid, so it wouldn’t be the first time someone yacked in my car…

Sensing that he is almost finished here, Giani slowly sits up.  His bones crack and he groans with the movements, but tries to retain his tough guy creds he earned tonight by minimizing the groans.  Zoey hands Giani a cup with over the counter pain reducers and another one with water.  Giani takes them down quickly before crumpling them up and tossing them in the nearby trashcan.  He can’t help but think to himself that he wished he had seen that five minutes ago.  Giani gets down from the bed, careful not to step in his lunch leftovers.  Spike stands up from his chair as Zoey leans in to whisper to Spike.  Giani picks his title belt up from the floor nearest to the door, opening it to hear a round of cheers from his fellow Stars, as well as a few Bombshells, welcoming him out.  He raises his arms in the air victoriously as he comes out, slowly nodding his head as everyone pats him on the back.  He comes to the end of the line, joining his New X-Tremes team mates.  He turns around to say a few words to them as Spike comes after him cautiously.  He shouts out a whisper, a strained yet urgent tone in his voice.

Spike:  Giani!  Hey, I wouldn’t…

Spike watches as Giani raises the belt in the air, looking around at all of the support.  Giani feels each and every person, and it is almost overwhelming.  He tries to think of the right words, and he seems to have found them right as Spike comes up to him, trying to rush him off.

*BLAGHHHHHH*

Giani hurls all over Spike’s shirt.  Spike looks stunned and disgusted all at once as he holds his arms up, dripping and astonished as a gasp of shock comes over the crowd.  A few people who got some of the back spray grunt and rush off, while others with weaker stomachs begin mimicking Giani’s actions.  As Spike blinks his eyes, he soon comes back to reality and he roughly shoves Giani forward.  We focus in on Spike’s face as he clinches his jaw, heading toward the parking lot as quickly as he can.


{{Four Hours Later}}


We come to the inside of BHC Fremont Hospital in Newark to find Giani wrapped up, still in his wrestling gear.  He has a handful of prescriptions in one hand, and his SCW Heavyweight Championship dangling from the other.  At his side is Spike Staggs and Vixen. Spike looks much cleaner as he is wearing a white “Italian Stallion” T-Shirt he retrieved from Giani’s bag after the retching incident.  He carries Giani’s duffel bag as they walk through the bright white hallways silently.  Giani looks out of the windows as they walk up a sloped, wheelchair accessible ramped hallway.  He watched the ambulance lights rotating rapidly as the faint sound of the sirens come in through the thick glass. He sighs as they turn the corner, feeling like this trek toward the exit was never ending.

Giani:  Why did I hafta go to the cafeteria?  This hospital is borin’ the fuck outta me.  I got an after party arranged at…

Spike:  … at your hotel room, by yourself?

Giani:  Are ya kiddin’ me, bro?  I gotta celebrate this win, dawg.  I celebrated the Tag Team Championships with James for like two days straight.

Spike and Vixen both turn to Giani as they come to a cross in the hallways.  Vixen shakes her head as if Giani had just said the most absurd thing ever uttered by man.  Her French Canadian accent rolls off the tip of her tongue like music.

Vixen:  You heard what the doctor said, Giani.  Bed rest for the next two days is what I heard, not a party.

Giani:  The fuck!  How do ya expect me not to go have a little fun?  I don’t care if I hafta be wheeled in on a hospital bed… I’m gonna celebrate.

Spike:  If you even attempt it, I’m going to make sure you have the shortest reign in SCW history, because I’m going to put you six feet under *air quotes* broski…

Giani pouts like a child who was just denied candy.  He crosses his arms over his chest as he slows down his pace.  He puffs out his bottom lip as he shifts his eyes over to the plain white walls as they get closer to the lobby.  Spike shakes his head, letting out a muffled laugh as he looks at Vixen.

Spike:  Unfortunately, I can’t say that he’s the most immature Heavyweight Champion SCW has ever seen.  I can think of about three who were worse…

Giani lets out a “Hmph” as if he were offended by the notion.  He pulls his zipped up white hooded “Italian Stallion” jacket closer to his body due to his lack of a shirt, but it is more about pouting than staying warm.  He rushes his pace to reach the door first, waiting for it to open up for him.  He storms through it to get several feet in front of Spike and Vixen.  He moves through the busy parking lot, dodging angry drivers as he weaves through the parked cars.  He comes to Spike’s crimson Mustang.  He tugs on the locked door, as if the more he tugged, the more likely it would be to open.  He stomps the ground as Spike comes up closer, laughing at Giani’s frustration.

Spike:  All of this over a party?  Seriously, Giani?  Are you like two years old or something?

Giani:  Fuck you!  Of course it ain’t about the party.  But that party was gonna be my distraction…

Spike reaches the car, pressing the remote on his key chain, opening the door up for Giani as if that will solve his temper tantrum.  Spike walks back to the trunk, popping it open as he sets Giani’s duffel bag inside.  He closes it, only to see Giani still standing there with the six year old stare of death.  Spike hands the keys over to Vixen as he walks over to Giani.

Spike:  Dude, what’s wrong?  What is so wrong with your life that you need to party to forget about it?  You’re the Sin City Wrestling… Heavyweight Champion!  That’s kind of a big deal for you, isn’t it?

Giani:  You act like you know what’s goin’ on in my personal life.  It’s girl problems that could be fixed at this party tonight.  Oh, and the fact that I nearly killed myself out there tonight, and someone decided that it would be a good idea to put up a Battle Royal to determine my first challenge.  It’s bullshit…

Spike:  Oh come on!  There’s no one on the active roster that you couldn’t take down, Giani.  Be the champion that SCW needs, a fighting champion that they can be proud of.

Giani rolls his eyes and winces as he tries to turn his head toward Spike.  He holds onto his neck brace and then turns his entire body toward Spike with a serious look on his face.

Giani:  Don’tcha think I know that?  I don’t care if they run a gauntlet on me, but they better make damned sure that every opponent deserves it!  This Battle Royal is open to anybody.  That pisses me off cause I didn’t get some Battle Royal for my shot at the title…

Spike:  Well…. back in May…

Giani:  Whatever, bro… I didn’t win that, so ya point is lost… My point is that I didn’t enter some Battle Royal to earn my shot at Goth.  I earned it by showin’ dedication.  I earned it by beatin’ a former Number One Contender AND TWO former Heavyweight Champions, scorin’ a pinfall over the second longest reignin’ champion in SCW history.

As if this were an ego stroke, Spike smirks with pride at the words “second longest reigning”.  He wipes the smile off of his face before looking back to Giani with a serious expression painted on his face.

Spike:  I get that, but who is to say that said second longest reigning champion won’t be in this tournament?  Or every single former champion in the company?

Giani:  Maybe, maybe not, but I earned my shot the old-fashioned way, with a pinfall victory.  I didn’t trip some kid up and throw him over the top ropes.  That’s lame, and we all learned how that worked out after the last time we saw that.  We got a weak Number One Contender…

Spike: … who won the title too?

Giani:  Hahahaha!  Yeah, and he was one of the weakest champions SCW had.  Weak win, weak champion.  I had one of the strongest wins, and I got the strongest will, so I know I can beat whoever they throw at me, even at my weakest.  My point is that whoever wins this thing will more than likely not deserve it.  Like I said, I showed dedication to this company.

Spike chuckles, ready to raise his hand up to interrupt Giani, but Giani is already a step ahead of him.  He holds Spike’s hand down and takes a step closer with his eyes widened to emphasize his point.

Giani:  EVEN WHEN I sided with ya uncle in the rebellion… it was still about loyalty to SCW, wantin’ to see it get better.  Most of those who actually give a fuck about this company, and who worked to help build it to what it is now, are all gone, or they don’t care anymore.  We’ll probably get some ACW reject comin’ out on top in that thing, and I’ll be damned if I lose to one of those Canucks…

Just then, Giani is startled by Spike’s horn blaring.  He jumps off of the car, turning as Spike nearly doubles over laughing.  Vixen’s silhouette can be seen looking at Giani as a string of French expletives muffled by the engine are heard.  Giani gives a quick apologetic wave to Vixen before turning back to Spike.

Giani:  Ya get what I’m sayin’ don’t ya?  I think ya uncle’s got a hard-on for seein’ me fail since he couldn’t lead me to the top.  I bet this was his idea.  It seems like a sneaky bastard thing to do.

Spike:  Hey, hey, hey… How about this?  What if you think of the positives here?  Best case scenario for this Battle Royal, someone who deserves the shot will get it, and they will put you to the test as the champion.  Worst case scenario, you get an easy opponent with an easy win and do something that no other champion since Jordan Williams has been able to do… and you hang onto that title for more than a month

Spike does a fake gasp to elicit a slight giggle from Giani.  He rolls his eyes with a faint nod of his head, so not to aggravate his neck any more than it already is.  He lets out a sigh as Spike pats him on the back in encouragement.

Giani:  Yeah, okay, but I don’t wanna be known as the champion who had it easy.  Despite what some champions think, it ain’t about havin’ the title, it’s about what ya do while ya got it.  I want a challenge, and I get the feelin’ that some bitch is gonna win this thing since every other weak ass wants to recover from the show tonight…

Spike shrugs his shoulders as Vixen honks the horn once again.  She rolls down the window on the driver’s side, poking her head out as she turns to look back at the two men.

Vixen:  I don’t mean to interrupt your little talk, but could we do it back at the hotel so Giani can get the rest that the doctor ordered?

Giani takes in a deep breath before turning to walk around the car.  Spike gets in front of him, opening the door to pull the seat down.  He crawls in the back seat, pulling the front seat back for Giani.  Giani pauses, appreciating the gesture before he crawls inside of the car slowly.  He shuts the door, and less than a minute later, the car backs out of the parking spot and takes off.  The scene fades out on the blazing tail lights.


<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v674/GXWSpikeStaggs/DixieTXT1_zps5756e5c1.png>

{Mouth 2 Mouth}

As the high from the events of the night start to wear off, Giani pops open a bottle of pills, pouring a few into the palm of his hands.  He tosses them back before picking up a bottle of Smart Water {“Hydrate Responsibly”}, the glistening condensation dripping down from his fingerprints as he lifts it to his mouth.  He sprays the water into his mouth through the opened sports cap, taking his time to get it down, before bringing the bottle back to his lips, gulping down half of the bottle with a sigh to end it off.  He closes the bottle cap and sets it (logo out) on the nightstand next to the king size bed.  He collapses back on the bed, crossing the width of bed.  He can hardly muster the energy to turn over to face the television as some late night dribble comes on the air.  He reaches down into his pants pocket to pull out his phone, seeing a text from his latest love interest.  He sighs, finding it a chore to even respond to the text.  He drops it down next to him as he runs his hands over his face gently, feeling the bandages that make him look like he were half mummy.  He lets out a groan as he closes his eyes.

”Damn it… Was this really worth it?  I coulda taken that painted up freak with one hand tied behind my back in a regular match, and I coulda been at that party instead of standin’ up this fine dime for a second time…”

Giani rocks himself over onto his side after only four tries.  He fumbles around with on the mattress until he comes back with the remote for the television.  The rather humble room, for what Giani normally affords for himself, is only lit by the television and a sliver of light escaping from the bathroom door only six feet from the large bed.  Giani flips through television shows in boredom as he waits for the pain pills to kick in when suddenly there is a knock on the door.  Giani looks a bit annoyed as he cups his hand around his mouth to amplify his voice.

Giani:  Spike, I told ya… I’m fine.  Go back to bangin’ Vixen, cause that’s the closest to action I’m gonna get tonight…

Giani lets out a weak chuckle as he rests his hand on the large arm that he uses to control the television.  A few seconds go by before there is another knock on the door.  This time, Giani grunts as he struggles to get up, fighting through the pain to give the person on the other side of the door a piece of his mind.  He gets up as another knock is heard.

Giani:  I’M COMIN’ DAWG!  Damn…

Giani shakes his head as he mumbles under his breath.  He slowly walks over to the door, rubbing his temples before reaching for the handle to fling it open.

Giani:  WHAT?!

His expression changes completely as a hand reaches from the other side of the door, slapping his across the face.  The porcelain skin and neatly manicured, crimson red nails seem to remind us one a certain “Queen”, possibly of the Damned variety?  No sooner than Giani clutches his face, groaning in the agony that is caused from the slap, an innocent gasp is heard from the person outside.  She reaches in with both hands to gently caress Giani’s face, walking into the room.  Her long blonde hair cascades down her back, teased at the ends so that they are like golden feathers, her lips a bubble gum pink, and her eyes eerily reminiscent of Misty’s icy eyes, as the assailant reveals herself to be Dixie, the youngest sister of Misty.  She groans apologetically as she looks up into his pained, almost puppy-like eyes.

Dixie:  Awwww!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m so, sooo sorry, Giani…  I didn’t know.

Giani grabs onto her wrists gently, lowering them from his face as a half smile comes over his face.  He just stares at her for a moment in silence until she opens her mouth to apologize once more.  This is when he lets out a long “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” at her, finding solace in her mere presence.

Giani:  It’s okay.  If that was the worst thing to happen to me today, I would be doin’ pretty damn good, huh?

Dixie:  I really am sorry.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t watch the show tonight after Misty’s match.  I was really… REALLY mad at you for standing me up, and barely agreed to go to this party, and then you stood me up again, and Misty said…

Giani places a finger to her lips, quieting her down.  The compassion slowly drains from her face as she breaks the mutual stare.  She refuses to let him get away with what he’d done just one week prior.

Dixie:  Look, don’t shush me, okay?  You don’t get to do that to me.  You don’t get to act like everything is suddenly okay just because you are hurt.

Giani:  You came here tonight, so there must be a reason.

Dixie:  Yeah, I came to slap the taste out of your mouth for standing me up twice, and to tell you that I’m not some dumb bimbo who is going to sleep with you because you’re a Reality TV star, or a Heavyweight Champion.  I might not be glamorous, or skanky, but I deserve respect.  What you did was shitty, Giani Di Luca, and I’m not going to put up with that kind of treatment.  So, if that’s what you are after, then I suggest you tell me now so neither of us wastes our time.

Giani sighs as he turns around toward the chairs next to the bed.  Dixie gets a sour look on her face with Giani’s back toward her until he turns around again to allow her to lead the way.  She rolls her eyes before walking to the nearest chair that is next to a table with a small coffee pot in the middle.  She rests an elbow on the table as Giani slowly lowers himself into the chair opposite of her.

Giani:  If I was tryin’ to put down some game on ya, I wouldn’t invite ya to the after party.  If I was still the same douchebag I used to be, I woulda just assumed you would be there, but I made sure to let ya know that I wanted ya there.  Do you know how hard it was for me to miss out on my own party like that, knowin’ you was gonna be there?  THAT was the worst part of my entire night, if I’m bein’ honest here.

Dixie:  I want to believe you, Giani.  I’m not just some naïve Midwest girl, though.  I don’t think that it was right of you to blow me off, and then for you to feed me some lame excuse about how you needed to track down someone to apologize to, only to turn around and take her on a date?  My sister filled me in on what kind of guy you are, and…

Giani:  WAS!  What kind of guy I was…  That was a long time ago, and if she really told ya the story, then ya would know that I was crazy about her then, but those feelin’s was never returned.  It’s cool though, I’m over it now and I’m well past ready to move on.  My point is that I only ever was serious with one girl, and I tried with another.  I’m ready to go after somethin’ real now, and I get the feelin’ that this could be what I’m lookin’ for.  I just need the chance to prove it, but things keep fuckin’ it up.

Dixie stares at him with eyes that are even icier than Misty’s.  She is surgically picking him apart, looking for the slightest hint of a lie, but she can’t seem to find it.  After all of the scrutiny, Dixie finally softens her expression, the warmth that Giani fell for in the first place returns to her eyes as she looks right into his.

Dixie:  Okay…

Giani:  What?

Dixie:  I said… okay?  Let’s see where things go, maybe?  I don’t know, you are way more of a cheese ball than the guys I would normally date, but something… in those eyes… just says I should give this a shot.

She smiles as her cheeks slowly turn red.  She lowers her head, but looks up at Giani as she giggles nervously.  Giani lets out a muffled sigh of relief in the form of a small laugh as he reaches over to grab onto her hand.  He cups both of his hands around hers as he pulls it to the center of the table.

Giani:  Yeah… ya definitely should, cause I’m pretty awesome.  Not to pat myself on the back or anythin’, yaknowhatimsayin’?

Dixie practically snorts at Giani’s “modesty”, shaking her head and laughing along with him.  After a moment of googly eyes and kindergarten giggling, Dixie sighs and looks over to Giani’s bed with a stern look.

Dixie:  You need to go lay down, mister,  and rest yourself up.  You need some healing…

Giani gets a mile wide grin as he raises his eyebrows.  Though he is in pain, he refuses to turn down an opportunity to “rise to the occasion”.  He gauges her reaction for a moment before speaking again.

Giani:  Sexual healing?  Huh, huh?

Dixie: Uhhh… no, do I look like that kind of girl?  We haven’t even been on one date, so the answer is no.

Giani:  Well, if intentions count, this would be our third date…

Giani flashes a hopeful smile toward Dixie who only folds her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.  She even goes as far as to offer him a growl as he continues on until she can’t take it anymore.

Dixie:  If intentions count, then I would be a trillionaire world class model travelling Europe and Asia.  But, intentions mean very little.  Actions do, and guess what?  You’re not getting any action tonight bucko, so give it up.

Dixie flashes a playful, yet still very serious grin at Giani who sarcastically pouts and moans as he gets up and collapses on the bed.  This causes Dixie to laugh loudly, shaking her head as she pinches the bridge of her nose.  She sings her hair from off of her left shoulder as a sultry look crosses her face.  She slowly walks over to the bed, biting her bottom lip before she crawls onto the bed next to Giani, gently running her nails up his back, causing him to shiver as her fingers reach his shoulders.  She gently massages then, eliciting moans of pure pleasure from Giani.  She favors them for a moment and then works down to his back, kneading it with an elbow for a moment before going back to her hands, working them in deeply.

Giani:  Ohhhhhhhhh…. Ya got some magic hands there

Dixie:  One of the perks of dating a Massage Therapist.  Seems like a match made in heaven, huh?

Giani:  Yeah… see, the only problem is that I’m formin’ a kink up front that might need to be worked out if ya keep it up... hahahaha-ow!

Dixie slaps Giani with a playfully angry expression on her face.  She leans up, ceasing this immediately as she grunts.  She leans off of the edge of the bed, walking over to a small love seat against the far wall, sitting down with a small fleece blanket, throwing it over herself.

Dixie:  Bad boys get no treats, so I won’t “treat” you with my presence, or my “magic hands” tonight.  But I will hang around in case you need help with anything tonight.

Giani:  I think I could…

Dixie:  Hold it right there...  Think before you speak in the presence of a true lady.

Giani:  I was just going to say that I think I could manage to scoot over so ya don’t gotta sleep on that lumpy couch when there’s a king size bed over here.

Giani strains to move over toward the door, allowing her ample space to sleep, turning his back toward her so to allow her the respect that she deserves.  She stares at the seemingly endless mounds of satin comforters and sheets and space.  Try as hard as she might, she can’t hold out for too much longer before she crawls over to the bed, giving Giani the same treatment, turning her back toward him, hugging her jacket close to her body.  Giani peeks over his shoulder just enough to gently cover her in the blanket.  This puts a small smirk on her face.  She gives it a minute before she leans over, doing the same, but making sure to tuck him in so that there is no funny business from him.  However, as soon as she hunches over him, he is sleeping like a rock.  This is impressive to her as she just stares for a moment, smiling.  Eventually she rolls over, tucking herself in as the scene fades out.


{No Sleep Til… *{Jersey}*}

”Tonight was… yeah… I don’t even know what to say about Climax Control this week.  It was a clusterfuck from front to back, start to finish.  After Amanda Hugginkiss finished her performance, I hit the stage to let everyone know that the champ was here and in full force.  I had my fun, I made my point, and got the crowd ready for a night of family friendly fun… Boy was I wrong, dawg…”

This flight from Newark, California to Newark, New Jersey had just made it’s full ascension as most people are making themselves comfortable.  The steward makes his rounds with his beverage cart, politely smiling as he checks in with each passenger.  He makes it about half way down the aisle when he comes to Giani, looking out across the seemingly endless night, deep in thought.  Sitting next to him is Dixie, though she is fast asleep, leaning on Giani’s shoulder.  The steward gently clears his throat so not to disturb Dixie, but loud enough to get Giani’s attention.  He peels his eyes from the window, snapping out of his daydream.

Steward:  Pardon me sir, would you care for any refreshments?

Giani:  Um, yeah… could I get a glass of orange juice?

The steward nods his head, pulling out a plastic cup and a small carafe, pouring the juice into the cup before gently handing it to Giani.  Giani whispers a “thank you” as the steward gives a wink of confirmation, moving his cart along.  Giani takes a sip from the cup, setting it on the tray in front of him before looking back out into the night sky.

”I wanted to kick things off on a positive note for those kids, cause I was one of them.  Growin’ up, I was poor, and had many years where the only presents I got was from Toys for Tots and church donation.  Thinkin’ back, I probably shoulda gone to Mass more often, but yeah… The crowd seemed really responsive to my heartfelt speech.  Then we go out to do some promo work to draw more interest for the event, and that freakin’ douchebag Nick Jones had to come out with that stuck up bitch Diana and ruin everything.  Spike put him down, but he had to come back for some more, so me and Mickey had to put him down, and he still came back, so we had to literally lay the smack down on his ass.  How much do ya wanna bet people say some shit about how I was showin’ my true colors?  That my quest for redemption is all a lie?  It ain’t my fault I can’t allow myself to be somebody’s punk bitch…”

Giani feels Dixie stirring a little, her golden locks trickling down his shoulders.  He glances at her angelic face, and the rage that is starting to build within him starts to fade.  He takes a deep breath as he brushes a few strands of her hair out of her face, rolling it around between his fingers as a half smirk comes over his face.  He leans down and kisses her forehead gently before turning his head back to the window, the moon reflecting in his eyes.

”Then Ben Jordan, the man who denounced the New X-Tremes on Twitter for the world to see, kinda got the raw end of the deal.  Sure, I don’t care much for the guy, and the only reason I didn’t start some shit there was cause Spike asked me not to, and I respect that.  As much as I think he’s a smug bastard, he didn’t deserve what came to him, though.  I gotta kinda laugh at the fact that he called me and Misty vipers, but the one who bites first is his own homeboy, the kid that he grew up with.  Other than laughin’ at the irony of it all, I gotta say that I got nothin’ more for Mickey, and I hope that Spike kicks him to the curb.  Kinda seems like the pot callin’ the kettle black though, so I guess I will keep my opinions on that inside my head where they belong.  How can I expect to be taken seriously when I can’t even forgive Mickey for knocking out a guy I don’t really care much for to begin with?  It still sucks.  I know how hard Spike is fighting to try to bring NXT together, and that he really wanted Ben to come back with us.”

Giani takes a deep breath and leans his head against the chilly window, nursing his slight headache from earlier in the night, cooling off the new knot he’s got forming.  He sighs it out, fogging up his window in the process.

”Then, I went out to try to save the night, seeing who even gives a fuck about the charity event, and it turns out that not too many people could find the time to show up.  I watched as five people threw their hats into the ring.  Five people, seriously?  With an opportunity to not only face “The Italian Stallion”, but to go after the Heavyweight Championship, there was only five people that thought they stood a chance?  Probably woulda been six if NXT didn’t hafta put Nick Jones back in his place, but still… Anyway, I got to joke around a bit with Jason and Belinda while gettin’ the chance to watch my potential challengers put it all out there.  I got my opinions of Ben Jordan, but he put up a good fight.  And I definitely got a few things to say for that cocky prick Damien Kingston, but he played the game and he won.  He even had the nuts to tell me he was gonna beat me for the title next week.  Gotta appreciate the guts, but I had a few things I was gonna tell him straight to his face… that was until…”

Steward:  Excuse me, sir.  May I take that cup?

The steward comes back around to collect Giani’s empty cup.  Giani loses his train of thought as he reaches for the cup.  He slowly brings it around Dixie so not to wake her up.  He whispers another polite thank you to the steward as he tosses it into the trash compartment on his cart, wheeling it off to the next row as Giani disappears back into his thoughts and daydreams.

**************************************************

The sound of the audience booing loudly as “Killing in the Name Of” by Rage Against the Machine fills Giani’s ears as he comes back around.  His eyelids flutter open as he groans and rolls over onto his forearms.  He looks around for Damien Kingston, or anybody, but all he sees is the medical team.

“Fuck this déjà vu shit…”

Giani pounds the mat in frustration as he slowly brings himself back to his feet.  He looks around once more, because he had a point to prove, and he would settle for either Damien, or any of the three men he felt beating him down to the mat.  The medical team comes into the ring, but Giani shakes his head furiously as he leans down to grab onto his title belt.  He quickly straps it around his waist, looking at the medical team as they begin to circle him..

Giani:  Nuh uh, dawg!  Not this time, I’m fine…

He pushes past the medical team who deems him well enough judging by his boisterous and determined stride as he gets to the ropes.  Giani leans over the top rope, resting one hand on the apron as he flips himself out of the ring, very uncharacteristically.  He storms up the ramp as the fans shout at him in support.  He slaps a few hands, though his attention rests firmly on the curtains.  As soon as he bursts through them, he comes almost face to face with Spike, Jessie, Vixen, and Misty.  He shakes his head, pushing past them, causing the ladies to look offended.  Spike grabs onto Giani’s arm to gain his attention, but Giani simply shakes it off, a sadistic grin coming over his face as he goes on the hunt.

Giani: Yo, thanks for havin’ my back out there… I guess the same way ya had Ben’s?

Spike:  Come on, Giani, that’s bullshit and you KNOW IT!  How was I supposed to know that those guys were stupid enough to attack you/?  And how was I supposed to know that Mickey would go rogue and attack Ben?

Giani continues to walk off, but Spike doesn’t allow him the opportunity.  Spike follows after him closely, which says a lot the way Giani is flying down the halls.  It would almost appear like he is running, but he is doing it so fluidly that it seems nothing more than a fast paced strut.

Spike:  Giani?  Giani!  Wait up, man!  You can’t pull this shit after everyone has shown you the kindness of forgiving you.  We will pay better attention from here on out, but you need to hear us out, brother…

Giani stops in the middle of the hallway and spins on the balls of his heels, almost causing Spike to crash right into him.  Giani throws his hands up in the air in frustration before bringing them down to a crashing halt at his side.

Giani:  Look, it ain’t even about that, dawg.  Seriously, I’m just pissed off right now cause some two bit, no talent cowards hidin’ behind cloaks and darkness came after me and embarrassed me in front of the fans and the locker room.  They took advantage of me when I was weak, and now I look like a bitch right after I won the top title of the company.  And to top it off, I didn’t even get the chance to get inside of Damien’s head.

Giani pounds his fist into the wall angrily, causing Spike to back up a couple steps.  Giani keeps his fist against the wall for a moment, letting it slide down as the anger only seems to pool up deeper in his eyes.  He breathes heavily through his nostrils, flaring them out as he looks into Spike’s eyes.

Giani:  I ain’t gonna be one of those fifteen minute champions, Spike.  I ain’t gonna just let some dudes come in here and punk me out without repercussions, and I ain’t gonna let Damien Kingston taunt me like that.  I put on what could be the Match of the Year for 2014’s awards, and I didn’t do it for nothin’.  I got the respect of the fans, so I’m good, but if I’m gonna lead this company as their champions, then the entire locker room better damn well respect me.  They ain’t gonna do that if I don’t do somethin’ about what happened out there tonight.  Capiche?

Spike clinches his jaw as he stares at Giani, his icy blue eyes searching for any sign of weakness within Giani.  However, his protégé’s convictions are iron clad.

Spike:  Capiche… But, under one condition… Do it when everyone is watching.  Don’t do it after the show is over and everyone is leaving to go home.  Make a statement with it.  Be relentless and show those pussies that they made a mistake messing with you.  And prove to Kingston that you are ten leagues above him and everyone else by beating him next week.  A statement is made bold not by the words that form it and not by the crowd who witnesses it… but by the combination of the two.

Spike nods his head as Giani just stares at him.  It is clear that Spike’s words had gotten through to him to a certain degree, but he is still on fire from the entirety of tonight’s show.  Giani turns around and walks off from Spike, shaking his head.  He continues down the hall until he reaches a door marked “Head of Talent Relations – Erik Staggs”.  Without knocking, Giani pushes the door open to find Erik sitting at his desk with his arms back as if he were expecting somebody.  However, when Giani enters, a look of shock spreads over his face.  He slowly hunches forward, pulling his suit jacket closed as he clears his throat.

Erik:  Oh, um… hello there Gi, ahhh… Mr. Di Luca.  How may I serve, er, assist you today?

Giani simply raises an eyebrow as he remains silent at the door.  He takes a quick scan around Erik’s office to see why he is acting so suspicious, but sees no signs of anything.  He shrugs his shoulders before walking over toward the desk.  He pulls out a chair and takes a seat as Erik fumbles with his radio, humming a Christmas tune loudly, but stumbling on the melody a bit.  He finally finds the holiday station and then he relaxes a bit.

Erik:  I’m really in the, um, holiday spirit this year…

Giani:  Hmmm… whatever bro.  I came to talk to ya about that shit that just took place out there.

Erik nods his head, closing his eyes, clinching them for a second as he mumbles “mmm hmm” in a long, drawn out manner.  Giani chuckles as he looks around for a candid camera or something.

Giani:  Pretty enthusiastic there, ain’t ya, Staggs?  How about ya pull ya’self back to reality and do ya fuckin’ job, bro?  Or are ya too busy walkin’ in a winter wonderland to hear the champion of this company tellin’ ya that he’s gonna fuck up half of ya locker room?

Erik groans in frustration as he rests his elbows on his desk, lacing his fingers together as he looks right at Giani.

Erik:  Look, if you need to go fuck some people up, I couldn’t care less.  This roster could use a good kick in the ass.  That’s hardly a complaint, and it isn’t my job to satiate your ego anymore, Mr. Di Luca, ever since you turned into some Batman Boy Scout…

Giani:  I ain’t askin’ ya to stroke my ego, Erik!  I’m askin’ ya to stop me from doin’ somethin’ stupid out there.  Ain’t Sin City Wrestlin’ had enough property damage fees from me by now?

Erik:  Go ahead… Why exactly should I give a damn if you get fired?  You’re the one who wants to prove to the world that this company isn’t a sinking ship.  You’re the one who wants to lead this “rag tag” set of misfits to the top of indy wrestling.  I could replace you with some meathead like, say… Jimmy Ringo… in a heartbeat.  So don’t you dare come in here with those threats, because I will can your ass for breach of contract so fucking fast it will make your big head spin…  Ohhhh yeahhhh…

Giani’s eyebrows furl as he leans against the desk, sizing Erik up.  Both headstrong men can’t seem to get the other to budge, that is until Erik’s awkward spaz out at the end of his rant.  Giani leans back a bit, still keeping his stare locked on Erik’s steely eyes.

Giani:  I’m sure one more flash in the pan champions will help the reputation of this company out a lot, won’t it?  Look, I ain’t askin’ for any special favors.  I ain’t tryin’ to have an easy title run.  As a matter of fact, I want to have to earn the title more and more with each defense.  It’s got nothin’ to do with the title even.  My gripe is that, if ya don’t start warnin’ ya roster about tryin’ to prove that they’re better than the champ… I’m gonna start takin’ them out, one by one, until there ain’t no competition left… So breach that, motherfucker…

Giani gets up, ready to walk over to the door.  He turns around to say one last thing until he really notices the beads of sweat on Erik’s forehead and eyebrows.  He pulls something out of his jacket pocket, a piece of paper that he tosses down on Erik’s desk.

Giani:  By the way, that’s the money I promised for the Toys for Tots drive here tonight.  Make sure they get it, errand boy…

Erik isn’t even paying attention as he clutches onto the edge of his desk, taking in hard, shallow breaths as he looks down at his white knuckles.  His breaths get more and more shallow until he shouts out.

Erik:  Ohhhhhh yeahhhhhhhhh sugar tits, you earn that contract!  Uhhhhhh…

Giani’s eyes widen as he has now learned a new level of discomfort.  It isn’t until he looks slightly underneath the desk that he sees a pair of long, slender legs and the deep red bottoms of black stiletto heels.  He rubs the back of his head, trying to figure out how to come back from something like that, but he can’t seem to find a way.  Erik takes in another deep breath, pounding the top of his desk with a relieved laugh.

Erik:  Fwewwww… Thanks or that, Giani.  I thought nobody was going to come in here and bitch at me.  I like an audience.

Giani:  I’m… pretty sure that’s some form of sexual harassment, bro.

Erik shakes his head as he fumbles around, making “adjustments” before he zips up his pants underneath his desk.  He pulls a tissue out of the box on his desk and puts it underneath the desk.

{{{TBC: was cut off around here}}}

 {{{OOC NOTICE:  All characters used in this work, as in all of my works, are used with permission from the handlers, past and present}}}


”I’m gettin’ kinda stir crazy here in Vegas, waitin’ for another shot at Goth, this time for the SCW Heavyweight Championship on the line.  I’m not gonna lie though… I can feel the pressure comin’ down on me like a ton of bricks, but I refuse to break underneath it.  This is what I was meant to do, dawg… But, I can’t help but wonder if Karma is gonna come up and bite me in the ass.  I’ve done a lot to prove myself worthy of forgiveness, but the shit I did to people over the last year still kinda seems like it outweighs the good.  I… I can’t help but feel like I’m still some big douchebag, and that’s all that anyone will ever see me as.  What else can I do?  What else can I say?  As much as I wanna sit here and say I’ve done all I could, that’s bunk.  The real question is… where do I start?”


{Country Grammar}

The sound of glasses clanking together echoes throughout this fine dining facility.  The lighting is dimmed down, giving off a very intimate feel to the elegant, yet simple restaurant.  Each table is shrouded in a white table cloth, topped with a candle, and a vase with a single red rose, as well as two empty challises, and white napkins.  We pan around the restaurant to find Giani Di Luca seated near the back in a very secluded part of the restaurant.  He seems to be fidgeting with the butter knife, nervously awaiting the arrival of a very special lady.  His eyes dart around the restaurant, landing on the entrance which is empty save for the hostess.  He sighs as he looks down to the tip of the knife as he slowly spins it around on the table cloth.  He lifts the sleeve of his white dress coat and black dress shirt just enough to check his Rolex for the time.  He nods his head, realizing he is a bit early.  His attention is drawn away as the waiter walks up to him, placing his hand on the table.

Waiter:  Would you like to start with a drink while you wait, sir?

Giani:  I’m tryin’ to be on my best behaviors here, bro… Just top me off with some nature’s nectar for now.

The waiter raises an eyebrow, unsure of what Giani is talking about.  Giani points to the nearly empty crystal challis in front of him, baring only a few ice cubes.  The waiter nods his head and then folds his hands in front of himself, heading toward the kitchen.  Giani lifts the challis to his mouth, dropping a piece of ice into it, crunching on it nervously.  He looks once more toward the entrance and his eyes light up.  He adjusts his posture, straightening out his jacket.  He catches his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall near the table, and he begins fixing his hair, making sure he looks completely presentable.  He gives himself the Giani Self Approval wink before turning his head back toward the entrance, lifting his arm in the air to get the attention of whomever it might be.

---

Giani is seen riding along in his glossy black Cadillac Escalade, riding through the small cityscape of run down buildings.  The roads are a bit congested as the sunlight blinds the idiotic drivers with Illinois license plates swerve in and out of lanes rather than follow a simple path.  Giani looks a bit tense as he watches the insane drivers around him, but this isn’t the only thing that has him on edge.  He is on a mission today, and unless he doesn’t survive the St. Louis traffic jam, he intends to complete it today.  In the background, the St. Louis Arch fades in the distance as he goes along, “Beautiful Pain( Featuring Sia)” by Eminem plays in the background.  Giani gently taps the steering wheel with the beat of the music as he carefully watches for his exit.

Giani:  God damn, this place looks like it’s been ravaged by zombies or somethin’.  Is this how people feel when they visit the Czech Republic?

Giani sits silently as the city thins out a bit, but the feeling that he’s severely out of place only seems to get stronger.  Giani turns onto the road, adjusting his sunglasses a bit as he comes to a stop light.  He takes a deep breath as he watches empty bags of chips and soda bottles whirl around on the ground in front of him.  Another Escalade pulls up next to Giani, the windows tinted, but a silhouette is seen nodding their heads in approval as the light changes again.

Giani:  All I know is that I better make it out of here alive.  The funny thing is that I ain’t even worried about the wannabe thugs.  It’s who I’m here to see that kinda freaks me out a little bit…

Giani turns down a one-way street, seeing the first tree in like ten miles, even if the mulch is littered with Menthol cigarette butts.  He pulls over next to the tree, shutting off his engine.  The music fades as he slowly opens his door.  He shakes his head, seeming to have second thoughts about this.  He takes a deep breath, forcing himself out of the vehicle before he has the chance to change his own mind.  He closes the door as a beat up Trans Am honks at him, the driver shouting as they speed off down the road.  Giani holds his black dress jacket closed as he pulls his black skull cap over his faux hawk.  He walks across the street, looking up at the number of the small house, almost hoping it was the wrong one.  He pauses on the walkway leading to the three concrete steps leading to the front door.  Suddenly, the door flings open and a young man with a light complexion walks to the middle step, throwing his arms out to the side.

Man:  Motha’fucka!  Don’t come up to my doorstep to sell me some Cardinal tickets.  Last time I bought those, they wasn’t even real, dawg!

Giani:  Whoa, bro… Chillax, I ain’t sellin’ nothin’, I promise.

The man seems caught off guard by this, staring at Giani to gage his seriousness.  When Giani’s expression doesn’t budge much, other than flinching from the bitter cold wind whipping at his face, the man grunts.

Man:  Then, the fuck you want?  No white boy comes up in here unless they tryin’ to sell shit to us “ignorant ghetto folk” or they tryin’ to score a lil sumpin’ sumpin, ya’sayin’?

Giani:  Nah, I’m cool on that, for real.  Look, I’m here lookin’ for a girl and…

Man:  Ahhhhh, you lookin’ for Q then.  He got some girls for ya taste.  Tell ‘em Stephen sent ya, and he might throw in a *jaw click*  for free.

Giani closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he shivers.  When he exhales, a cloud comes from out of his mouth.  He shakes his head, trying to figure out how he can say what he needs to say, but he isn’t afforded the opportunity when a flower vase flies past his head.

”Awww HELL NO!”

Giani opens his eyes as a petite young woman with purple dreadlocks cascading down her shoulders comes flying out of the front door.  Stephen looks at Giani with wide eyes and then a smile spreads over his face.

Stephen:  I always told you them pretty boys was trouble, sis…

Faith:  Stay the hell outta this, Stephen!  This asshole got the nerve to come up in MY neighborhood after that shit he pulled before?

Faith doesn’t seem bothered at all by the winter air as it hits her bare arms.  Her Rob Zombie tank top doesn’t seem appropriate, but she has no qualms dashing right at Giani, knocking him a few times in the sides.  She shoves him out into the street.  She goes to shove him once again, but Giani is prepared for this one and he doesn’t budge an inch.

Giani:  Faith.  FAITH!  Hold up just a minute and let me explain myself.

Faith:  FUCK THAT!  Get in your fancy ass car and drive on back with Pauly D and Sammi!  Seriously, Gi… I’m gonna really kick your ass if you don’t leave right now.

She swings at him once more to prove her point, but Giani grabs onto her wrist, holding it tightly.  She swings with her left fist, but he grabs onto that one as well, holding it tightly, pulling her in against him.  She squirms around angrily as she tries to break free.

Faith:  What now, bitch?  You gonna hit a girl?  Ain’t no one here to stop you now, Giani.  No one’s gonna fire you now…

Giani:  I’m fuckin’ sorry!  Okay?!  I came here to tell ya face to face that I’m sorry for that shit.  It eats away at me every god damned day, along with all the other horrible shit I done.

Faith stops squirming so badly as he brother comes out of the front door with a baseball bat in his hands.  He comes toward them, swinging it at his side, winding up to hit a home run on Giani’s face.  He lets go of Faith who straightens out her shirt, composing herself.  Before her brother can reach her side, she winds back and slaps Giani across the face so hard that spit flies from his lips.

Giani:  Damn, I forgot how hard ya can hit…  That hand print just faded from my face like a month ago… heh heh heh…

Giani hopes that his joke might lighten the mood, but it doesn’t even scratch the surface.  Faith gives her brother a glare that lets him know that things are under control.  He stops, watching the situation for a minute before lowering the bat.

Faith:  Stephen, I don’t need you fighting my battles.  I can handle a punk ass bitch like this…

Giani:  Funny, that ain’t the first time I’ve heard that in the last forty-eight hou…

Faith:  I ain’t said you could talk, homie… Stephen, could you give us a minute?

Stephen holds his free hand up in surrender, but he drops the bat just in case.  When Faith turns around, he points to his eyes, and then to Giani as he heads back up the steps and into the house.  Faith glares at Giani, looking him up and down for a moment before breaking the silence.

Faith:  I ain’t buyin’ what you’re selling, Gi.  Just cause I ain’t in SCW right now doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention to the happenings of that place.  You expect everyone to believe that you had some kind of epiphany, that you changed overnight?  You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, “bro”…

Giani:  I’m not askin’ ya to believe that I changed overnight.  Hell, I’m still changin’.  I’m a work in progress, but I know enough to know that what I did to ya was wrong.  I even came with the intention to offer ya an apology, and I did that…  Ya know what?  Do with it what ya want.  This was a bad idea…

Faith:  Which part are you sorry for?  Trying to give me the Jersey Turnpike?  Leaving me alone in the ring with two people and no partner to tag out to?  Calling me a two dollar prostitute?  Calling me ghetto trash?  Or dawgin’ my career before it even got started?

Giani:  ALL OF IT!!!  Okay?  Every last one’a those things, and then some.  It was fucked up of me to do that, and I’m sorry for all of it.  I’m sorry I ever laid a hand on ya, cause no proper gentleman should ever even think about layin’ a hand on a woman.  The fact that I ever did that has been eatin’ at me since I did it.  There’s your apology.  I’m done, I’m so done right now…

Giani turns to walk away, and Faith does nothing to stop him.  She watches through squinted eyes.  Giani reaches his car and pops the door open, almost as if he expects to be stopped.  Once he realizes that this isn’t the case, he gets inside of the car and slams the door shut behind him.  He slams the steering wheel in frustration before fumbling around in his pockets for his keys.  As soon as he pulls them out, the passengers’ side door opens and Faith steps inside, causing Giani to almost scowl.

Giani:  What?  Are ya not done makin’ me grovel?  I’m sorry I even came out here to bother you… Ya know?  I blew off a date to come here, and I know that don’t sound like a big deal, but it coulda been.

Faith:  Look, Gi… It ain’t no surprise that I can be kind of a hot head, and can you blame me for comin’ at you like that?  I could almost blame you for not having a job there anymore.  I mean, you wrecked my confidence straight out the gate, man.  What else am I supposed to think when the last thing you did to me was dry hump me before lifting me up in the air, ready to drop me on my head?

Giani says nothing, but his face shows an immense amount of pain from the vivid memory returning.  This was probably the lowest thing he has ever done in his entire life.  He nods his head as he looks over at her.  As he speaks, his voice is little more than a whisper, breaking up at first.

Giani:  I know…  If I could go back and change things, I would do it in a heartbeat.  If there is anythin’ I can do to make it up to ya, just name it.  Anythin’ at all…

Faith thinks about it for a moment.  She can’t help but feel like she’s looking at a sad puppy dog.  Her angry face seems to fade as she places a hand on his shoulder.  She shakes her head, muttering the words “damn it, Faith…” under her breath.  She takes a deep breath, sighing as she looks out through the windshield, hoping she could stop feeling empathetic.

Faith:  I really don’t know what could possibly make up for what you done to me, but… the last guy that tried to get up on it like that had to take me to dinner first…  Not that he got any further than you did, but it seems like a good place to start.

---

Giani takes a deep breath as he brings his hand down from the air, resting it on the table as he watches hopefully.  We turn around to see the “other” metal Bombshell of yesterday, Faith, and she has cleaned up a bit, wearing a burgundy evening gown with silver crossing down in X’s from the shoulders down to the bottom hem.  Her dark hair is pulled back, falling down over her shoulders like a fountain.  The deep, dark purples are hidden by the dim lighting of the restaurant.  She holds her handbag close to her as she slowly scans the restaurant.  The host leads her toward the back.  She seems a little nervous herself as she reaches the table.  Giani’s eyes dance from her head, down to the silver high heels adorning her neatly manicured toes.  He lets out a low-toned whistle meant only for her ears.  She gently smacks his arm with her handbag as she rests her hands on the back of the seat.  Giani quickly gets up from his seat, pulling her chair out for her.  She seems surprised by his actions, though she doesn’t say a word as he helps her scoot the chair in closer to the table.  He takes a bow, smiling as he walks back over to his seat.

Giani:  I see ya found the place alright?

Faith:  Shoot… these fools saw my beat up car and they thought I was on my way to North Broadway or something…  I told them I had a reservation, and they asked if I was a prostitute… You think they recognized me from the Climax Control where you made it sound like that’s what I really am?

Giani takes a deep sip from his glass, sighing as he tries to think of a way to change the subject as quickly as possible.  She gives him a playful wink as she unfolds the menu, slowly looking it over, though she is using it as a way to make Giani think she isn’t paying attention to the pained look on his face.

Giani:  So… I hear the Prime Rib here melts in ya mouth…  Sounds awesome, eh?

Faith raises her eyebrows, rolling her eyes for him to see before returning her gaze to the menu.  She seems to find something pleasing to her taste buds, folding the menu closed in front of her.

Giani:  Okay… so, if ya not even gonna talk to me, then why did ya suggest a dinner date?

Faith:  I wanted to make this as painful as I possibly could, just to make sure you was really sorry, man…

Giani:  Well, mission accomplished…

Faith:  Ohhhh… we just gettin’ started, boo…

Faith laughs as she sticks her hand up in the air, snapping her fingers loudly as she looks around to make sure that she has the full attention of nearly every person at the surrounding tables.

Faith:  Ey yo, B!  Bring over your most expensive bottle of wine, but none of that *air quotes* classy dry shit neither!

Faith gives a few finger snaps and a head bob for emphasis before looking at Giani with the widest of grins.  He sinks down into his chair, hiding his face in the menu.  Faith soaks it all in, and as the waiter happily brings over the bottle, uncorking it, she rips it from his hands and puts the bottle to her lips.

Faith:  What?  No brown paper bag?  Aight then…

Giani:  Seriously?  Jesus, just kill me now…

Faith waves the waiter away as if he were crowding her.  She downs a good portion of the bottle before letting out a loud belch, causing a hush to fall over the restaurant, even shocking herself in the process.  She chuckles as she can almost see Giani’s cheeks glowing through the menu.  She reaches across the table to Giani’s hand, bringing it to the center, near the candle.

Faith:  Okay, okay… I’m done for now, dude.  Like I said before, I still pay attention to Sin City these days, and I wanted to get in your head.  I wanted to twist your brains up so that there was no way you could possibly win the Heavyweight belt… I don’t understand why, but I actually kinda believe that you’re sorry for what you did.

Giani:  How many times did I say that earlier tonight?  Each time I swiped my credit card for a dress, a tennis bracelet, shoes, getting’ ya hair done…  Plus the other thousand times I said it, ya had to embarrass ya’self in a fancy restaurant to believe me?  What kinda sense does that make?

Faith:  The old you would have already left.  You have no patience, and I wanted to see that Boy Scout act crumble right in front of my eyes.  I don’t know, I just… believe you, I guess.

Giani slowly lowers the menu, his eyes showing a hint of anger in them as he stares at her.  He places the menu down on the table and rubs at the bridge of his nose, sighing as he tries not to shout at her, though he is a bit relieved to hear this at the same time.

Giani:  Damn… Well, I’m glad that ya feel you tortured me enough for the night.

Faith:  Hold up, I never said that.  I just said I was done for now.

Giani:  You know what I did to be here tonight?  I drove all the way from Vegas, I cancelled a date with a girl I would be proud to have at my side, instead of just a one night stand, and I probably blew that.

Faith:  Wait, wait, wait… You cancelled a date, and yet you’re on one right now?  Some things might have changed, but you still a heartbreaker, boy…

Giani swipes his glass and takes a big drink of water, emptying the challis in a few gulps.  He seems to be at a loss for words until Faith finally let’s go of his hand.  She gives him an almost apologetic glance.

Faith:  Look, I get it.  You want to be a better person so that you can be some hopeless kid’s role model.  You want to prove that someone as big an asshole as you can turn things around and go on to accomplish something big.  You came here cause you didn’t want to hold that belt with so many things left broken.  I respect that.

Giani:  I just look around at the useless sacks of shit who have held that belt, and how little they gave back to the company, and I don’t wanna be anythin’ like them.  I wanna be the one who carries this company on my back, givin’ every ounce of myself in return for the faith they have in me.  I mean, look at the current champion…

Giani tries to keep his voice low after being shushed by a lady at the table nearby.  Faith mocks the lady, waving her off angrily before returning her focus to Giani, nodding her head as if to tell him that she’s got his back.

Giani:  Dude is praised so highly, but all he does is chase Druids.  He don’t talk to fans.  He don’t come out to the ring to just shout at the fans.  He’s a total douchebag full of empty promises, and I can’t stand seein’ that belt around his waist.

Faith:  You just mad because he’s a painted up version of what you used to be.

Giani:  No way!  At least when I was an asshole, I still came out to the ring to give the fans some hell.  Other than Drake Green, none of the recent champs could ever match my charisma or my talent.  It just pisses me off…

Lady:  Excuse me sir!  Could you PLEASE watch your language?

Faith stands up from the table, ready to dig into the thirty-something lady sitting at the table with someone old enough to be her grandfather.  Giani places his hand on top of hers and shakes his head at her.  He swipes the bottle of wine and chugs a few back, wiping his mouth before matching Faith’s earlier belch.  She tries her hardest not to laugh, covering her mouth instead.

Giani:  I’m Giani Di Luca and I can say whatever I want, where ever I want lady.  Just ignore me and pay attention to Daddy Warbucks there.

Faith:  Ooooh bitch, he done told you!

Just then, the waiter comes over to the table with the manager backing him up.  Giani rolls his eyes and then does his infamous laugh.  He tosses back a few more gulps from the bottle of wine before bracing himself for what is to come.

Waiter:  Excuse me, sir, but this establishment is for quiet, esteemed dining.  There is a Denny’s a few blocks over for your kind…

Faith:  Ohhhhhhh!  Was that supposed to be some kinda race thing?  Bitch, I will own this restaurant if…

Giani holds a hand out at her as he stands up from his chair.  He clears his throat as he gets in the waiter’s face.  The waiter takes a few steps back, bumping into the manager as he does so.

Giani:  This place is borin’ as fuck anyway, and it smells like cabbage and balls in here..

Giani slaps down a few bills on the table before taking Faith’s hand, leaving with his nose in the air, maintaining some form of dignity as he drags her along with him.  The waiter gulps, sighing in relief as he watches them distance themselves from him.  He looks at the manager and simply shakes his head in disbelief, deciding to act angry now that the nearly six and a half foot muscled man isn’t standing in front of him anymore.

Waiter:  Inbreds… The younger generation just loves showing their… backsides.

Manager:  Literally…

The waiter looks confused until the manager points near the hostess station.  Several loud gasps are heard, as well as a few chuckles as Giani lifts his dress jacket up to show off his tanned hide.  Faith’s obnoxiously loud laughter rings through the restaurant as she drags him toward the exit.  Giani nearly trips over his falling pants, laughing as he bursts through the door as we fade.


{I Got My Speakers On Wrecked!}

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{Gypsy}

The joyous sounds of celebration are heard ringing throughout the RV park in a remote desert location.  Several bonfires are seen burning in the nearly blisteringly cold temperatures, the smoke rising up in large tufts.  The live music being played is mostly heard as some type of light percussion drum along with a tambourine, with various others mixed in, but they pale in comparison to the laughter and cheering of the group.  As we come in closer, we see copious amounts of gambling and alcohol consumption, giving us an idea of where we are exactly.  Off to the side, we see a table set up with a woman sitting at it, holding a palm and shouting in Romanian as if having some sort of unknown revelation.  Turning just slightly, we see a small stand where a young girl is bartering a variety of charms and possibly “hot” jewelry, and she has no shame in admitting it to anyone brave enough to inquire.  Once we pass her table, the smell of Kraken fills your nostrils, almost strong enough to get you intoxicated alone.

Standing just outside of the camp ground, Giani watches on, enjoying the sort of charge radiating from this mobile party.  He takes a deep breath, moving his foot around in the sand as he contemplates whether or not this is the wisest of ideas.  He throws caution into the wind once again and makes the trek across the sparkling sand that stands between him and redemption.  He holds his black jacket tightly around his midsection as he reaches the first of the RV’s.  He finds two children playing an innocent game of… Craps?  He raises an eyebrow and then passes them by.  He rounds a corner just in time to find a bat within a centimeter of his face.  He pauses, throwing his arms up in the air in immediate surrender.

Karina: Stat-vă afacerea, imbecile… ((State your business, asshole…))

He stares right at the much smaller, yet twice as intimidating woman in a purple hooded jacket, her black Mohawk peeking out from under the hood.  She doesn’t seem the least bit amused as she lets the cigarette drop from her lip, putting it out with her heel without a second’s hesitation.

Giani:  Whoa there… I, uh… I just came for the party.

Karina lowers her bat, cackling like a crazy person, holding her hand out in the direction of the party action.  Giani sighs in relief, taking one step forward before Karina cracks the bat against his shin so loudly that he howls out in pain.  She smiles proudly as she admires her handiwork.  Giani stumbles a bit, trying to regain his balance.

Karina:  I need to work on my aim… I was trying to hit you in the jewels.

Karina cracks the bat around behind her, winding up for another shot when Giani shouts out a strange assortment of vowels in an attempt to beg her not to.  She steps closer to him as he scurries backward, bumping into the smallest Koji, the youngest brother, Nicu.  He turns around, seeming relieved.

Nicu:  Allow me to pass along the same message I gave to Spike when I talked to him two days ago…  You’re not welcome here.  Now leave before I let my dearest sister have some fun at your expense.

Giani:  I must have a sign on my forehead that says “>>Plant a bat here<<”.

Nicu:  You do seem to have a death wish, yes?  Anybody who knows of Karina is wise to run away immediately when advised…

Giani pulls an NXT armband out of his pocket, waving it around as if it were garlic to a vampire.  Nicu stares at it for a moment before batting it away to the ground as if he isn’t phased by it.

Giani:  Once NXT, always NXT…

Nicu:  Once Koji, always Koji… Blood is blood, and no member of this family will tolerate your presence.  I am being kind enough to warn you before…

Aleksei:  Oh my goodness!  It’s the biggest douche canoe I have ever met!  Giani…

Giani turns around to see the tall, yet slender Aleksei Koji standing there in his infamous patchwork jacket.  He seems very amused, but it is hard to tell if it is from the Kraken, or from this unexpected encounter with a former friend.

Aleksei:  The irony is almost too much, isn’t it?  It’s like we are back in the beginning, except now I know what a sack of horse shit you really are, man.  It’s like one of Nicu’s premonitions.

Nicu seems displeased by this, shaking his head as he and Karina slowly walk off together.  Aleksei laughs as he brings the bottle of rum to his lips, taking in a few sips before starting to pass the bottle to Giani out of instinct.  He quickly rips it back, simply staring at Giani, toying with him.

Giani:  Look, I know how this works… I come to apologize to ya for all the awful shit I done to ya, and then you’re gonna toy with me for a while before…

Aleksei:  I see you have been doing this regularly.  The thing is that I don’t plan on wasting your time playing games.  Jamie told me that you had some sort of realization and now you are suddenly sorry for breaking the bonds of “bro-hood”.  He seems to believe you, but I’m a little harder to convince.  My brain isn’t the size of a pea.

Giani:  Actually, he seemed kinda… I don’t know, wise when I last saw him.

Aleksei:  Fucking weird, right?!  I just thought I was shitfaced enough to where he was making sense!  But the point is that I don’t believe you.

Giani nods his head, rubbing his hands together to gain warmth.  He slowly looks up in to Aleksei’s eyes, almost as if waiting for some sort of sign that this is a joke.  When he sees the stern look on Aleksei’s face, he sighs.

Giani:  For what it’s worth, bro…

Aleksei:  You lost the right to call me that when you planted a chair against my head *air quotes* “dawg”…

Giani grunts in a mixture of frustration and the temperature getting to him.  He leans against the RV to his left, showing his most sincere expression to Aleksei as he can possibly give.

Giani:  Even if ya not gonna forgive me for what I done in the past, the least you could do for me is hear me out.  Allow me to explain myself before you dismiss me, aight?

Aleksei folds his arms across his bare chest, allowing the large sleeves of his patchwork jacket to dangle down, protecting him from the gusts of wind blowing, but also to make him look that much more like a badass in the process.

Aleksei:  I’m in no way indebted to you, Giani.  That’s not part of how this works.  You don’t get to track me down and force me to listen to your half-hearted apologies and your lame excuses.  Had this happened six or more months ago, I might find it in my heart to listen to you.  Now, I’m tempted to call all five of my brothers over, and even worse, Karina…

Giani:  Look, that won’t be necessary.  Just know that I am sorry for all the shit that went down between us, from the second I turned my back on ya all the way through the Team Wars, and even for waitin’ so long to apologize for all of it. If ya don’t wanna hear any more of it, I respect that.  I’ll just… um, gonna go now.

Giani nods his head with what appears to be a warm and genuine half smile mixed with regret.  He turns around sighing as he hears the RV start rocking with the sound of a woman moaning inside.  Normally, he would pause and make a smartass comment, but instead, he starts walking back across the barren desert, back to his car on the deserted highway.

Aleksei:  Giani?

Giani pauses in his tracks as he hears the tone of regret in his former friend’s voice.  He slowly turns around to see Aleksei walking toward him.  He looks relieved and a smile appears upon his face.  Aleksei takes one last drink from his bottle of Kraken before reaching Giani.

Giani:  I really appreciate the opportunity to…

*CRACK!*

*Blackness*

---

”Nobody ever said that this was gonna be easy, but damn… Was that really necessary?  A bottle to the side of my freakin’ head?!  I must be bat shit crazy to track down the people I’ve hurt the most, just so that they can knock me around.  Let’s recount this, shall we?

1)  I called Spike Staggs out to the ring so that he could apologize for what I done to him and the New X-Tremes, and I offered him the chance to kick me in the jewels.  I thought the man who was practically a Saint would have mercy on me, but that’s what I get for thinkin’, right?  In all honesty, I gotta take the blame for this one, cause I did offer…

2)  I track Misty down to apologize.  Alright, this one wasn’t too bad.  If anyone could understand what I’m goin’ through, it’s gotta be the former Queen of the Damned gone Girl Scout, right?  After all, she was the one who gave me the idea to try to make amends for everythin’ I done.  And, as expected, it actually went well.  She yelled at me, but she didn’t hit me with a bus or nothin’, so this one was more ideal.  But, deep inside, it hurt.  This was someone I actually had feelin’s for.  I had to congratulate her on her new boyfriend, and on the inside, I wanted to grab and kiss her.  But time heals all wounds, and I’m over it.

3)  Faith… She beat the shit outta me to the point I had to edit some of it out.  Somethin’ about my nads says “Please kick me!”  My wallet felt it too.  Did I deserve it?  I mean, I did ruin her career right from the start.  I would say I deserved all that and more.

4)  Aleksei.  Kraken bottle to the side of my head.  Knocked out cold.  Awww shit, that’s now!  What’s the crazy drunk and his even crazier family gonna do to me now?  Am I gonna wake up in a tub of ice without a second kidney?  Or worse, am I gonna have balls?  You people love harmin’ them so much, I wouldn’t be surprised, but please God, not the balls…

My point is, I deserve it.  It don’t matter to anyone that I’m really tryin’ to change.  They don’t care that I been huntin’ down all these people to apologize to, cause I haven’t been to see them yet. C’mon, people.  Ya keep tellin’ me how much of an asshole I am, so ya gotta know that I don’t even know where to start.  It ain’t like I got some sorta Karma List.  I’m not Jason Lee.  But I’m willin’ to accept the price it takes to pay for all the shit I done, cause I know that I will make a great SCW Heavyweight Champion.  If these people don’t kill me before December 2 Dismember, I’m not gonna quit until I walk out as the champion.  Truth…”

---

"Damn that hurts!  Gah…”

Giani clinches his eyes shut as the pain radiates from the left side of his face, right into his brain.  He takes in a deep breath, opening his eyes only for a millisecond, and everything is a blur of colors.  He hears the deep bass drum beating to the rhythm of his throbbing headache, accompanied by a light rhythm guitar and violin mixed in there, the bow screeching along with the beat of the music.  The tambourine seems haunting to Giani as he tries to force his eyes open again, with absolutely no improvement from his first attempt.

”What, did Aleksei knock me into the Velvet Underground dimension or somethin’?”

Giani hears the clapping accompanying the music as the warmth of the fire gently massages his face from afar.  The smell of hickory smoke fills his nostrils as he strains to break out of this haze.  He looks around, trying to make sense of his surroundings, catching glimpses of what seems like sparkling glitter in a variety of waving random colors.  As he focuses more, he sees women dancing around the fire, saving scarves as they twirl around to the music.  He wipes at the side of his face, feeling a couple pieces of glass come out in the palm of his hand.  He winces, drawing in breath through his teeth.

Nicu:  Careful, Giani.  The glass is in there deep.

Giani surrenders, realizing that nothing else has been done to him… yet!  He quickly looks around, seeing the musicians sitting around the fire as well.  A young woman gently plays the violin as the other men covered in scruffy hair and jewelry sit on the ground with their instruments on their laps.  The young woman approaches Giani, giving a single swipe with the violin to let off another screeching sound that causes Giani to hold onto his forehead, groaning.  He looks over to see Nicu sitting there with a pair of surgical tweezers and gauze.  He seems confused, but opts not to question it any.  He notices that all seems to be safe for him, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

Nicu:  I told you it would be best to leave.  What ever will you do now with your imperfect complexion?

Giani:  After December 2 Dismember, I was bound to have some imperfections anyway.  I guess I’m the “Reflection of Perfection” if perfection looks into a broken mirror, huh?

Nicu affords Giani a light chuckle as he pulls out another piece of glass.  He admires his handiwork before pulling out a small vile.  He places it on the gauze and then presses it against Giani’s face.  Giani winces once again as he looks over to Aleksei coming in his direction with three longneck bottles in his hands.  Nicu stretches the tape over the gauze, keeping it firmly in place before nodding his head at Giani.

Nicu:  Right… change this gauze in two hours, and make sure to add this to it.

Nicu tosses the vile toward Giani’s hands, but he seems to miss it as it falls on the ground in front of him.  Giani leans down to pick it up as Aleksei reaches them.  Aleksei shakes his head in the negative as Nicu seems to silently argue.  Aleksei gets a stern look on his face, and Nicu sighs before getting up from his knees and walks off.  Aleksei hands Giani one of the beers which Giani graciously accepts.  He pops the top and guzzles half of it down at once, shaking his head afterward.  Aleksei pulls a chair up in front of Giani, who seems to be in a bit of a haze still.

Aleksei:  Consider yourself lucky.  I wanted to tie you up like a pig and roast you alive over the fire, but I decided that it wasn’t fair to you.

Giani chuckles a bit as he looks to see that Aleksei is not laughing.  He widens his eyes, sighing in relief at the change of heart as he relaxes a bit.

Aleksei:  I might not owe it to you to hear your explanation, but I admit to being curious to hear it.  So, humor me, douche canoe…

Giani takes a small sip from the bottle before setting it down, nestling it in the sand.  He pulls a cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket, lighting it and taking in a deep puff. He holds it in for a moment before slowly exhaling.

Giani:  That’s generous.  I don’t know how to thank you and ya brother for the awesome stitch job that’s gonna make me look like a badass goin’ into my match.

Aleksei:  You know, I am not much for the small talk.  Besides, you’ve got me very excited to hear what you have to say.  Also, time is ticking…

Giani takes another long drag from his cigarette, using it to slightly ease the pains in his head.  He taps the butt end of it, allowing the wind to take the ashes with it.

Giani:  Well… damn, I don’t know where to begin.  I kinda had it memorized until ya scrambled my brains there…  But, I had a really hard time acceptin’ the fact that I was constantly thrown to the back of the line.  I was never booked, and I left BACW cause I wanted to be a big name, not some bodyguard who never got the same respect in return.  When I was gettin’ attacked by someone like Nick Jones, where the fuck were you guys?

Aleksei:  That’s a very weak apology, kid.  Not once did I hear the words “I’m” or “sorry” in there.

Giani:  Yeah?  Well, the truth is that I never heard those words neither.  All I heard was some empty promises from people who called me their friend, and the sound of medical tape from the nurses after gettin’ gang raped in the name of “team unity”.

Aleksei chuckles out loud as he pops the top off of his beer, sipping on it.  Before he has a chance to retort, Giani immediately cuts him off, taking advantage of his opportunity to finally be heard.

Giani:  You went off and got the Roulette Championship, Spike had the Heavyweight Championship, and there was no direction for me to go.  I was against joinin’ NXT to begin with, but I did it out of respect for the friendship you, me, and Jamie shared.  Ya can’t tell me that I’m full of shit, cause ya know for a fact that I did.

Aleksei slowly nods his head, acknowledging some truth to what Giani has to say.  This eases Giani slightly as he leans back in his chair.  Giani picks his bottle up and takes another sip before placing back in his sandy cup cozy.

Giani:Then, I believed Spike’s promises enough not to split sooner.  Not to sound like a bitch, but I honestly got my feelin’s hurt more times than I can count on my fingers and toes.  But, nobody ever saw that.  The only thing they saw was me givin’ the biggest F-U to Spike in the middle of the ring, and then I was the asshole.  I heard it so many times that I started to believe it, and I started doin’ more and more fucked up shit.

Giani pauses as if to allow Aleksei the opportunity to speak, but Aleksei seems sort of blown away by Giani’s confession.  He just rocks a bit in his chair, taking another long sip from his beer.

Giani:  That’s the raw, honest truth.  But, despite all of that, I realized that it was my choice to turn on you guys.  I know it sounds like a real stretch for the victims here, but none of us is innocent… but the difference is that I’m sorry for what I did to you guys.  I feel like shit cause I know I’m better than all that.  So, there’s your apology…

Aleksei awkwardly throws his empty bottle into the air, allowing it to crash against the top of his personal RV, shards scattering in random directions.  Giani doesn’t seem as if he even notices as he continues his speech.

Giani:  And ya know what, I don’t expect one back, cause I know that you don’t feel the same way.  I know that ya feel like the protagonist in all of this, and I’m just ya evil nemesis who is wicked just for the sake of bein’ that way.

Giani looks into Aleksei’s emerald eyes, watching the fire dance within them.  Aleksei nods his head in agreement before popping the cap off of his second beer, taking a long sip from it as he remains silent.

Giani:  Now, the screwed up thing is that just bein’ able to apologize to ya, face to face… that’s good enough for me.  Sharin’ a beer in the middle of a California desert in December with ya not chasin’ me around, trying to chop of my head?  It’s good enough for me.  And if we never talk again after tonight, it’s cool, cause you gotta live with the guilt, not me.  Not anymore…

Aleksei:  Damn, brother… That was some seriously heavy shit right there.  It was kind of a mind fuck if I’m being honest, kind of like watching Jamie try to use big words from that vocabulary calendar we got him for his birthday that year.  I never thought of it that way.  I guess we should call it even?

Giani smiles, extending his hand out toward Aleksei.  Aleksei stares at it for a moment before accepting the peace offering.  He gives a firm shake, bringing Giani in for a “bro hug” giving him a few hard pats on the back.  He sits back in his chair as the music suddenly stops.  He looks a bit suspicious, especially when he sees Karina emerge from another RV, twirling her bat in the process.  Giani looks over to the side, seeing Nicu emerge with a jeweled leather flogging stick.  Giani seems a bit confused until he looks at Aleksei who is cracking his knuckles with a smile.

Giani:  Whoooooaaaa there, bro… I… I thought ya said we was cool?

Aleksei:  Oh, we are, but there are only three reasons the Koji Clan get together.  Nobody died, and unless you are planning on making an honest woman out of Karina…

Giani:  Oh hell no!  Er, no offense…

Aleksei:we’re going to have to kick your ass.  I can’t disappoint like that.  You understand, don’t you?

Giani quickly jumps out of his chair.  He looks around, grabbing his bottle of beer.  He empties it into his mouth before cracking it against the side of Aleksei’s RV.  Aleksei almost seems excited as if it were some sort of game.  Giani’s eyes wander around as brothers, cousins, uncles, and the like come out with various weapons in their possession.  Giani gulps as he wields the bottle out in front of him, unable to muster up a single word.  Immediately, he darts off around the back of the RV, barely ducking a club attempt to his face.

Giani:  Oh shit!

Giani rolls across the sand, and the older grayed Koji wielding the club goes for another strike, which Giani is barely able to avoid.  Giani gets up to his feet and he dashes off across the terrain as what seems to be the complete line of living Koji’s are in hot pursuit of him.  Like a track star, Giani leaps over a small bank of sand as he keeps going, gripping on tightly to the broken bottle as he goes.  He reaches his Escalade, fumbling around with his keys before the lights come on, and he throws the door open.  He gets inside, starting it up quickly as he speeds off, Aleksei nearly reaching his vehicle before it disappears in a cloud of dust.


{I Got My Speakers On Wrecked!}


{Burning Down the House}

”Brutality…  Bloodshed…  Animosity…  We’re gonna paint these walls red.”

Giani stands at the top of the incomplete ramp from the set of December 2 Dismember, the camera just over his shoulder.  He looks down where the ring sits in the middle of an otherwise empty space, but it is almost as if he doesn’t even see the ring.  He slowly imagines the space being filled with chairs and a barricade.  His eyes slowly scan the place again, filling the seats with fans, all cheering as “Wrecked” by Killbot plays in the back of his mind.  He looks over to see Jason Adams and Belinda Simone at the table, likely preparing the viewers for what is slated to be the most action packed match of the night, which says a lot given the card.  Giani takes a deep breath as he starts to walk down to the ring where Justin Decent appears.

Justin Decent:  Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the Main Event, and it is for the SIN CITY WRESTLING HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!

Giani pauses for a moment, not sure that he is quite ready for this.  He looks around to the fans once more as they cheer him on in support.  We pan around to look at his face as it is covered in sweat.  He isn’t even in his wrestling attire, but his white hooded “Italian Stallion” jacket with an NXT muscle tee underneath, and a pair of dark skinny jeans with white sneakers popping out.  He almost seems to realize that he isn’t anywhere near ready for this, turning to walk back up the aisle in a fit of embarrassment.

Justin Decent:  Making his way back to the back, because he is obviously not worthy of such a big honor… Hailing from Seaside Heights, New Jersey, weighing in at 285 pounds, standing at 6 feet 5 inches, he is….

Giani shakes his head in defiance.  He turns back around to face Justin Decent, shouting down at him, though his voice doesn’t seem to be working properly.  It just comes out as the sound of an infant crying.  His cheeks turn red in embarrassment and frustration as the fans begin laughing at him.

Justin Decent:  Awww, look at the baby!  Do you need your bah-bah?

The fans crack up loudly as Giani dashes down the ramp, sliding underneath the bottom ropes in determination.  He gets in Justin’s face before he realizes that he’s shrinking.  He looks around as everyone seems to be mongoloid giants in comparison.  “Dark Side” begins blaring, but it barely overcomes the laughter of everyone.  Giani pants as he looks up to see a painted freak standing above him, barely even resembling his opponent for the next show, other than the scheme of the paint and the hair.  Giani slowly slides back against the turnbuckle, shaking with fear, but exuding an obvious defiance as well.

Giani:  *Wah-wah-wah*

Everyone laughs at him as he tries to stand up to them.  He scowls as he turns around to show it off to everyone around him.  Just then, he feels a hand gently resting on his shoulder.  He turns around, breaking free from it as he prepares himself for a fight.  However, he sees Ms. Rocky Mountains standing behind him and he quickly eases his posture, taking a deep breath.  Ms. Mountains looks a bit concerned for Giani as he wipes the sweat away from his forehead and upper lip on the sleeve of his jacket, trying to conceal it.

MRM:  Are you doing alright, Mr. Di Luca?

Giani takes in a few deep breaths, nodding his head as he attempts to recompose himself for his scheduled interview.  He puffs his chest out in a show of confidence as he does his best to prove that he is more than ready for his impending match.

Giani:  Huh?  Me?  Of course I’m doin’ alright Ms. Rock-ay Mountains!  Better than alright.

MRM:  I don’t mean to overstep before we even start officially rolling, but what happened to your face?

She points to the left side of his face where the stitches are in obvious contrast to his otherwise flawless skin on his face.  He runs his fingers lightly over it as if to confirm that this is what she’s talking about.

Giani:  What?  This little boo-boo?  Ah, it’s nothin’.  Let’s just say, I got gyped…

MRM:  That’s classic, it’s like you have a writer or something… I’ve heard the training sessions with Spike Staggs aren’t easy, but does it really get bad enough that one might end up with stitches?

Giani:  Nah, for the last week, I been playin’ My Name Is Earl, minus the funny chubby brother.  Damn, I shoulda brought Jamie with me...  But that’s not important here.  The point is that I been doin’ everythin’ I can to prepare for this match.  I been facin’ down my deepest, darkest demons, and sometimes ya come out with battle scars.

Giani pauses to point directly at the sound with authority as Rocky purses her lips, nodding her head, a bit confused but she isn’t about to argue it.

Giani:  This right here?  This is a testament to everythin’ I been sayin’ over the last month.  This right here proves that I’m a changed man.  I accepted this with honor, and hell, even a little bit of pride.  This right here is the sign that I’m ready for this match.

MRM:  That actually brings me to my first official question, Giani… As someone who has never before been anywhere near the Heavyweight Title picture, how are you dealing with the pressures of being the Number One Contender?

Giani looks at MRM, knowing that she saw his little anxiety attack just moments ago.  Normally, the “confident” star would bullshit his way through such a question, refusing to show any sign of intimidation, but his mask seems to fall off as he seems a bit overwhelmed by the question.

Giani:  Well… I can’t say that I’m completely confident that I’m gonna walk out as the champion.  It’s my first try, and you’re right… I never been anywhere near the title picture before, save for my pretty freakin’ impressive participation in the Number One Contenders Battle Royal back in May as second runner up.

Giani seems to break out of his momentary sullen state as he looks up from the ground, and right at Rocky.  He stares silently for a few seconds, but it feels more like several minutes.

Giani:  Truth be told, it ain’t even my opponent.  Sure, Goth did beat me one time.  He loves bringin’ it up, and I’m sure it will be the basis for his entire promo.  But I’m sure everyone in the real world will realize that I have three other victories over him, two tag, and our only other singles encounter.  I embarrassed the kid in that match.  But, if he wants to cling to the delusion that he caught me off guard one time cause of an extra shitty partner like it’s gonna help him in this match, then that’s his mistake.  I’m in Boss Mode right now, Rocky.

Giani’s “confident”/arrogant demeanor seems to resurface as he spills his animosity toward Goth for the cameras to see.  He puffs out his chest and tightens his stance as he looks directly into the camera to show off the look for a moment before turning back to Rocky.

Giani:  But, like I said, I ain’t even worried about Goth.  He’s nothin’ but a placeholder champion.  The fact that I beat him three times in recent history proves that I will have no trouble dealin’ with him.  He won the Heavyweight Title from someone who lied and cheated his way to the top in Kevin Carter, and honestly it’s beyond me how he was able to defeat Drake Green, but so have I.  Both wins are tainted, and they are in the darkest and weakest points that the title has seen since J.T. Underwood held the belt.  Soon as I win this belt, it’s gonna soar back to the front and center like it was always supposed to be.

MRM:  Those are some strong opinions on the state of the SCW Heavyweight belt, coming from someone who hasn’t even touched the belt.  Why do you think you stand any chance of improving the belt, even if you are lucky enough to win it?

Giani rolls his eyes at the buxom reporter, trying his best to be respectful to her despite her obvious goading.  He takes in a deep breath, looking as if he is trying to slowly count as he exhales.

Giani:  It’s simple, baby… I’m Giani Di Luca.  I was designed to be at the top.  I’m the “Reflection of Perfection”.  I’m a born leader.  Even before I was in this business, I was the lead on Fuhgeddaboudit.  I left, the show crumbled.  I played the rookie long enough, and then I led James to the Tag belts, and we held the damn things for a pretty long time, rivaled only by Sinful Obsession.  Then, I led myself right through three of the toughest competitors that this company has to offer, and now I’m the Number One Contender.

MRM:  If you are a born leader, then why are you in the New X-Tremes instead of leading your own group to the top?

Giani: Hahaha… Did ya just ask me that?  Seriously?  Spike is our mentor, that’s obvious.  But the leader…?  He is the authority, but I’m the reason people are payin’ attention to NXT.  I know it sounds cocky, but the fact is that, when I win this belt, all eyes will be on NXT.  Spike even said so.  It will only be a matter of time before I’m leadin’ them all to success with Spike’s aid.

Rocky takes time to roll her eyes after turning her head away from Giani.  She blows in a manner that might as well say “Oh brother…”

MRM:  Confident… But, the world wants to know a straight answer.  How are you going to improve the state of Sin City Wrestling just by winning a belt, and how are you going to deal with the pressures of being the top champion?

Giani:  Well, ya kinda just answered that last question with the first one.  Sin City needs someone confident enough with their own damn self to make the title worth competin’ over.  When ya got someone like Goth who can’t be bothered to see anythin’ past his own nose, who doesn’t have the time to play off the fans, the bread and butter of this business… the fans ain’t gonna pay attention.  Whether it’s good or bad attention, the fans are either gonna love to love ya, or they’re gonna love to hate ya, but one way or another, they’re gonna love the attention.  When they don’t have yours, then you ain’t gonna have theirs.

Giani looks as if he is spelling out a diagram for Rocky as he talks with his hands.  He points out to the empty “audience” as if it were packed full of people, and then points down to the ring below them.  Once he finishes his point, he folds his arms across his chest.

MRM:  Don’t get me wrong, that makes a lot of sense, but it doesn’t answer how you will deal with the pressures of being the top champion of this company, if you are lucky enough to make Goth say “I Quit”.

Giani:  First off, I won’t need luck.  The odds are stacked in my favor as is, because I’m no stranger to hardcore matches since that’s the lifeblood of the company I started wrestlin’ in.  And not to mention what I keep sayin’ over and over again, cause no one seems to be able to get it through their freakin’ skulls…

Giani turns to face the camera with a very serious expression upon his face.  He takes in a deep breath through his nostrils, flaring them out as he pauses for just a second to add emphasis to what he’s about to say.

Giani:  I beat the kid three outta four times we met in the last year.  So, it ain’t even a question of whether I will win this match, cause I will.  Now, to answer ya other question, I’m gonna need the support of the fans.  With them behind me, I know I can be the champion this company needs.  They was the first ones to accept my apology, and they been behind me the longest.  That’s what’s gonna make all the pressures worth it.

Rocky nods her head, seeming rather impressed by what Giani is saying.  She even offers him a genuine smile before bringing the microphone back to her lips.

MRM:  That’s very heartfelt, Giani.  It definitely does seem like the fans have regained their liking for you over the last few weeks, almost as if the last year hasn’t even happened.  Is there anything you would like to say to the fans specifically?

Giani:  Thanks for puttin’ ya faith back in me.  I will not disappoint this Sunday.  I’m gonna give ya somethin’ to really cheer about when I give ya a champion that ya can actually be proud of.

MRM:  And while we are on the subject of sending out messages, what do you have to say to Goth in regards to his silence since the last Climax Control?

Giani smirks an almost wicked looking smirk as he stares at the camera silently.  He offers a faint chuckle as he looks over to Rocky.  Giani wipes at his mouth as if trying to hide or remove his smile, but it doesn’t seem to work as he returns his gaze to the camera.

Giani:  I’m not gonna lie… Last week I put it out there pretty thick that I was ashamed of how he carries this company as our champion.  I all but called him a pussy ass bitch straight out.  I wanted him to respond to what I had to say, to prove me wrong.  I wanted to hear what he had to say, cause he’s the most quiet Heavyweight Champion SCW has ever had.  But nothin’?  Seriously bro?

Giani rolls his eyes, as he thinks it over for a moment, doubling as a dramatic pause.  He lowers his eyes for the moment, but quickly raises them back up, his amused look completely gone from his face.

Giani:  Is that how ya deal with ya problems?  Ya just ignore them?  That’s weak, dawg… Or maybe ya just don’t think I’m worth ya time?  Yeah, keep thinkin’ that, cause that’s gonna be ya biggest mistake ever.  That’s what’s gonna give me the upper hand when we meet inside of that ring on Sunday.  But… the thing is that I don’t want an easy victory.  I wanna earn it.  I want an all out brawl.  I wanna paint the walls, the floors, and the mat with our blood.  I wanna leave it all out there, dawg…  Win or lose, I’m ready to give it my all, and ya better hurry up and get in the same frame of mind, or I might have to let my sadistic side out and make ya take me seriously!


{{{OOC NOTE: TBC... RP cut off here}}}

 ”As much as I hate to admit it… we’re too much alike.  Don’t get me wrong, the differences are immense, but I see something inside of you that seems all too familiar.  I just can’t seem to put a finger on it.  It’s almost as if we are kindred spirits or something.”

---

{Sabotage}

I sit in this crappy basement in the middle of nowhere.  He called it some sort of spiritual journey, but I think it’s some kinda sadistic form of torture.  Only the elderly and meth addicts actually enjoy being in the Midwest.  I mean, who travels to St. Louis, let alone the suburbs of this shitty town?  It’s not even baseball season, and the choke artists known as the St. Louis Cardinals have already left this boring ass town, so there is literally nothin’ to do… There’s not even a television down here.  I guess I’m supposed to be thinkin’ about… stuff?  Fuck if I know.  All I can do is watch the clock.  I swear the fucker is laughin’ in my face.  Why am I even here?  I look around at this poor excuse for a finished basement.  The carpet is stained from Kool Aid spills, and there is crayon drawings on the wall.  God damn!  I’ve gotta get outta here…

I stand up from the couch and walk over toward the stairs when I hear the sickening female groaning followed by the indistinct French bedroom talk from Vixen.  I shake my head and realize I haven’t had any in like… two weeks?!  I haven’t been so sexless since I was in middle school.  This makes me want to track down the nearest club that isn’t overtaken by country music and douchebags in cowbow boots and trucker hats.  I get to the top of the steps when I hear something bang into the basement door.  I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t a little bit surprised by it.  I hear the loud groaning followed by some sick form of love makin’ that makes my stomach churn a bit.  I fight the urge to puke as I tip toe down the steps.  I collapse back on the couch and pout, wishing I had tried to make a run for it fifteen minutes sooner.

“It’s okay, bro. You could always climb out the window er somethin’.”

Who said that?  I remove my hands from my face in frustration.  I look over to my left to see… me, with the SCW Tag Team Championship draped over my shoulder.  Me’s got a grin on his face from side to side, and I gotta admit, he’s lookin’ pretty damn fresh right about now in those white sneakers and skinny jeans.  Those sunglasses is overdoin’ it a bit though.  I just roll my eyes, wishing I could at least blame this on some drinks or somethin’.

Present:  Seriously, bro?  It’s kinda too late to try changin’ my mind like that, dawg.

Past:  Yo, kid… I’m sittin’ here tryin’ to figure out why you would think that I care.  Ya lookin’ at ya prime, dawg.  This is as good as it gets.  If ya wanna leave me, go ahead.

Present:  Hahaha!  You… you can’t be serious.  I’m already doin’ better than you.  I’m the Number One Contender to a title that people actually care about.  That’s like ten steps ahead of those worthless titles.

Past me lifts his sunglasses up, laughing silently, slapping his knee to rub it in a bit more.  This act goes on for a minute before he looks right into my eyes, gasping for air as he shakes his head.

Past:  Ya… ya kiddin’ right?  At least when you was a Tag Team Champion, people actually gave a shit about Sin City Wrestlin’.  Now?  Nobody gives a shit.  The second “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward fired Drake Green for like no reason, everyone stopped watchin’.  I mean, they lost their favorite star, and the title went from someone respectable to… Hahahahaha…. Goth…

I suck in my upper lip, biting on it in protest, but it is also an attempt at avoiding responding to the obvious truth.  I take in a deep breath through my nostrils, shaking my head in disagreement.

Present:  I guess I need to take that title off of Goth then.  Give it some kinda meanin’.  Then people will pay attention again.  Most of the reason I won the Number One Contendership was cause I was driven by the idea of takin’ the title off of Drake Green.  I will hafta settle for Goth, who I’ve already beaten like a hundred times.

Past:  Dawg… You don’t get it.  No one is gonna care.  No one watches.  SCW has taken some serious hits lately.  Face it, this title…

Past me lifts the Sin City Wrestling Tag Team Championship belt from his shoulder, lettin’ me get a good look at it.

Past:  … is the best it’s ever gonna get for ya.  I mean, I’m an arrogant prick, and for me to admit that I hit the ceilin’ of my career is hard for me to do.  Do ya really think I would do it if it wasn’t the truth?

Present:  But…

Past:  Don’t do this to ya’self, kiddo… Don’t set ya’self up for failure.  Not again.  You remember when ya did that right before ya joined NXT the first time?  And don’t forget when you was preparing to face James Huntington-Hawkes the third.  You got ya hopes up, and when ya failed, ya nearly lost ya shit, dawg.  This company is dead as Thatcher Rex’s career.

Present:  Don’t expect me to believe that shit.  I can save SCW.  I can make them all pay attention.  They didn’t like you, but they’re startin’ to love me again.  Even though I coulda taken that belt at any time I wanted, they’re gonna look at it like a true underdog story.  It’s why I rejoined NXT.  It’s why I’m seekin’ redemption.  I have never once come close to my true potential, and I’m not gonna let some… some freakin’ douchebag like YOU tell me I’m not gonna ever get better!  FUHGEDDABOUDIT!

I spit venom in past me’s face, tensing up as I try to intimidate him.  He sits still, propping his sunglasses up on his forehead, grinning from ear to ear again.  Of course my own worst enemy is me…

Past:  When nobody in a company gives a flyin’ fuck about anythin’ other than themselves, the fans ain’t gonna pay attention no more.  Not one piece of shit in Sin City Wrestlin’ cares about anythin’ beyond themselves.  Maybe Jon Dough?  But since when has one selfless person ever really changed anythin’?

Present:  Then ya got me and Spike.

Past:  Oh puh-lease!  Do ya hear him upstairs?  He said he was takin’ ya on a spiritual journey, but he just wanted to bone his fiancée without the rugrats gettin’ up in their biz-nass!  Face it, best case scenario, ya wind up bein’ the last champion of this company.  Worst case scenario, ya lose to Goth, again, and ya go out in embarrassment.

I just can’t accept either of these scenarios.  There is no way I’m gonna let Goth get the better of me again.  I’m not going to have a deadbeat partner draggin’ me down the next time we meet.  I look at him with a newfound determination, fire in my eyes as I push the tag belt from my face.

Present:  Even if I’m the only motherfucker in this company who cares about the place, even if it is minimal… I got enough talent and charisma to carry this place on my back.  Ever since that title left Spike Staggs’ waist, it has been nothin’ but a disgrace.  He was the last person to successfully defend the belt at least once before losin’ it or havin’ it stripped from him.  It has been disappointment after disappointment, and THAT is why he company is in bad shape.  Once I get my hands on that belt, I’m gonna rival the longest reign in this company, maybe even better than Spike Staggs.

Past:  Hahahahaha!  Ya really expect me to believe that, bro?  Dawg… Nick was right last week when he said you lost the one and only thing that made ya a somebody.  Look at ya tryin’ to play a boy scout.  If I knew I would turn into this after James cost us the belts, I woulda off’ed myself a couple months ago, for real…  Ya nothin’ but a kiss ass to the fans, to Spike, and to anyone ya ever stepped over to get where ya are now.  You just did what they woulda done to you, only ya got them first, bro.  It’s all part of the game, but ya choose to feel bad about bein’ the smart one…

I finally see why people can’t stand me.  I’m a real douchebag!  It’s takin’ everythin’ in me NOT to send a big STFU message in the form of a bitch smack.  I shake my head in frustration as I turn away from past me.  I can’t stand the idea of what he’s saying could be right.

Present:  I got somethin’ that every single champion over the last several months don’t have.  Goth is a slacker who only puts it all out there when he wants to add another title to his repertoire.  He don’t care about anythin’ but tryin’ to recapture his glory days…  Kevin Carter was so fuckin’ full of himself, he got it in his head that there was some conspiracy against him that he went bat shit.  Drake Green let him get inside of his head and fucked up his chances of bein’ worth a damn around here.  Jordan Williams already had a foot out the door when he won the title, so he was just a flash in the pan here in SCW.  Hell, even Nick Jones has lost his step. For someone who thought I was some punk ass kid from Jersey who wasn’t worth a damn, he sure as hell wasn’t hard to defeat…

As if it were some sort of inside joke between me and past me, I look over with a bit of a smirk and a wink.  Past me is too vapid and self absorbed that he doesn’t seem to get it.  I chuckle a bit under my breath as I roll my eyes.

Present:  I don’t know what the point of my upcomin’ match is, cause Simon Jones is the worst of the bunch.  He fought so hard to prove he was worth all the hype he earned by winning the Battle Royale several months ago.  He truly was the underdog who shocked the world by beatin’ Jordan Williams.  He earned respect around SCW, and they was proud to see him in the spotlight.  But what happened?  He got in the spotlight, and he froze.  He got scared of the fame.  For someone who is almost old enough to be my father, he wasn’t ready for the fame, and it showed immediately.  He lost the Six Pack Challenge match at Summer Xxxtreme II, and then he realized he screwed up, and he tucked his tail and tried to run away.  On his way out the door, he got smacked by Casey Williams, and that’s the only reason he’s still around.  Deep down, only seen with a microscope, Simon’s got some balls, and he can’t let that ogre talk shit on how Casey put him outta commission.

Past:  That’s what I like to hear… Read that sonuvabitch like a text book, bro…

Present:  I’m sorry.  It just don’t get why they thought it was a good idea to put me up against him.  Especially when there is a small chance we could be stable mates soon.  If I beat him, everyone’s gonna remember that I made Simon Jones my bitch, and they’re never gonna take him seriously.  Then, I’m gonna have to apologize to him for ruinin’ his career… Maybe they thought it would make me look better by gettin’ an easy win over Simon again.  I can’t say for sure, but there is one thing I know for a fact.  I’m gonna whoop the shit outta Simon, but it’s gonna be strictly business.  I’ll try not to disable him, cause I’m not gonna lie… I wanna see him whoop that bald ape to a pulp at December 2 Dismember.

I look over to past me, and I can’t help but realize that I’m starting to sound like him, the thing that I have been trying so hard to change.  For a second, he seems to smile, knowing exactly what I’m feeling.  He can sense my digression, and he is eating it up.  He’s already won over me, and he knows it.  I look away from him and to that damn Kool Aid spot on the carpet, trying my best not to look at him.

Present:  There’s a difference, ya know?  At least I feel some remorse for havin’ to step over someone to build momentum.

Past:  It’s a weakness, dawg… You’re gonna fail with an attitude like that.

Present:  Then let me fail with dignity…

I close my eyes for a second, feeling another set of eyes resting on me.  I look over to my right, toward the basement steps to see Spike Staggs standing there in a pair of torn black jeans with frayed plaid patches randomly placed on them, and his NXT graffiti tee.  I try to hide the results of my daydream, but the beginnings of a smile forming on his face let me know that he has an idea.

Spike:  Seems like you really have changed?

Me:  Yeah, I guess so, but how did ya know?

Spike chuckles as he comes over to my left side, sitting on top of past me, crushing him while making his disappear in an instant.  He puts a hand on my shoulder, giving it a couple pats.

Spike:  It was hard not to hear you down here, shouting like a madman.  Vixen said I should have come down sooner, but I thought you needed that… I needed to hear that.  All of my doubts are gone now.

Me:  That makes one of us, dawg…  I can’t lie, I still wonder how much I actually changed, but all I can do is what I think is right, and this feels right.

Spike smirks, nodding his head as he takes a deep breath.  As if looking at some invisible watch on his wrist, he looks over to me with a wary expression on his face.

Spike:  I’m sure you know I’m a bit worn out right about now… Besides, we have a flight to catch tomorrow.  Hollywood awaits…

I nod my head, giving a complimentary stretch and a yawn.  Spike gets up from the couch and starts to walk off.  I reach to the side of the couch and pick up a few pillows and a blanket at once.  I pull them to the arm of the couch, and as soon as the pillows leave my grip, Spike grabs onto my hand.  He gives me one single look, but it says a millions things.  I can see his pride, his own sense of belonging, and genuine happiness.  He gives my hand a solid shake before letting go.  He walks to the stairs, looking back at me once more as I begin setting up my “bed” for the night.

---

”I can see all the ways I went wrong in my career… in my life… I see an opportunity to make things right.  As much as I doubted you, I feel like I owe it to all of those that I hurt in the past, to stop you from making the same mistakes that I made.  I see the same monster that I still have to this day.  I see it’s scaly wings fluttering in anticipation behind your eyes.  I can hear the stirring and the scratching as it digs into your brain.  Sometimes, I almost wonder if it’s worth controlling.  I don’t mean to return to old ways… I mean… I wonder what would happen if we totally surrendered to it.  It would be total anarchy.  But then I realize that this would be surrendering our humanity.  So I’ve made it my mission to help you keep it in check, but you have to want it too… Do you?”

---

{We R Who We R}

We focus in on Giani’s eyes, catching a glimpse of what seems like bat wings, fluttering around behind the milk chocolate pools of his irises.  His pupils dilate slightly as we pan out just a bit to see his face.  It’s true, he can feel the clawing, and it is starting to give him a headache.  He holds onto the side of his head, shaking it off.  We pan out further to see Giani in full wrestling gear.  His wrists are taped as he jogs, keeping his arms at his side, tensing them up to slightly stretch the NXT arm band on his right arm.  He is wearing black tights with the Italian flag printed on the back as well as the “Stallion” emblem on his crotch, with black knee pads and white boots.  His body glistens with sweat from the work out he’s receiving at the hands on Spike Staggs, who has been sparring with him.  Spike is wearing black track pants with red and white stripes on the side, along with a newer print of an NXT shirt.  His pale skin is damp with sweat, and his faint “guy liner” is melting away from his eyes.  Both men are inside of a four-sided ring with red ropes.  The surrounding looks more like a boxing training room rather than a wrestling training room.  There are two other rings, both of which are empty.  Off to the side is a sparring body bag and a rusty weight bench.  Giani seems to be soaking in the surrounding for the first time, even though he has been in this room for many hours.

Spike:  *Ahem?*  I said… Do you?

Giani snaps back to reality, blinking his eyes before looking directly at Spike, as if paying attention to him for the first time in a while.  The words ring through the room, and through Giani’s ears as he shrugs his shoulders, scrunching his face up in confusion.

Giani:  Do I what?

Spike:  Do you pay attention, or are you just going to let someone… Simon… come up with a roll up that will embarrass you going into December II Dismember?

Giani shrugs his shoulders as if to apologize, but also to express his slight bewilderment by such a random question.  Spike rolls his eyes, refusing to give up his defensive stance, although he does loosen up his muscles a bit.

Spike:  Did you not hear a word I just said?

Giani:  Yeah, yeah, yeah… pay attention to ya opponent.  Got it, boss…

Spike:  Jesus H. Christ, Giani… Do you want me to help you maintain and control your beast?

Giani pauses, giving Spike an almost fearful, defensive glare.  He stops dead in his tracks, freezing as he emits a long “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” sound.  He laughs nervously as he backs up a few paces, against the ropes.

Giani:  I definitely don’t need ya to control my beast.  I’m sure I can find someone who is less… uhhh… manly, to help me out in that department, yaknowhatimsayin?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but…

Spike:  What?  No!  You have a lot less boob than I tend to like, even if your wrestling skills are more suited for the Bombshell Division…

Giani’s eyebrows furl as he flicks his fingers under his chin and toward Spike.  Spike sticks his tongue out in a playful sort of manner, psyching Giani out at the same time as he lunges forward, catching Giani in a headlock, bringing him down in a make-shift Crossface hold.  Giani struggles as hard as he can to get out of it, but he seems to be having a bit of trouble with this.

Spike:  You gonna cry like a little bitch, now?  That should make you feel awfully confident going up against a former World caliber champion, as well as a former SCW Heavyweight champion.

Giani struggles a bit, prying at Spike’s tight grip under his nose.  He doesn’t seem to have any luck with this method, so he turns his head slightly, bashing it straight into Spike’s bottom rib, getting a bit of leeway.

Giani:  Gah!  Yeah, ya just said it… FORMER is the key word there, bro.  I already know I’m supposed to get that title and show the circuit that we don’t mess around in Sin City.  The same way I’m… grrrrr…. supposed to go into the title match with all eyes on me.  What better way to do that than to beat Simon?

Spike:  For someone who thinks so highly of their skills, you sure need to brush up on them.  There’s no way that you could defeat Simon with such sloppy techniques like this.  If you’re just going to waste my time…

Giani:  I’m… NOT!

Giani is able to pry Spike’s grip from under his nose, getting away as Spike swipes at him.  He grabs onto the ropes, quickly pulling himself up to a standing position.  He gathers himself quickly, putting his fists back up as Spike gets up to his feet.  The two circle one another.

Giani:  If ya didn’t get the point that I’m serious after I pinned Nick Jones, a man who has nearly beaten you a number of times by himself, then I dunno what to tell ya, Spike.  I’m more focused on buildin’ steam against Goth by beatin’ Simon than I am on you.  So sue me…

Spike:  Simon and Goth are both men who are full of surprises.  Plus, both men have been in the ring with you a time or two, so they know what you are expecting.  Whose to say that they won’t tweak their styles to gain the upper hand?  Simon won a contest that you competed in.  Even if he didn’t eliminate you, he still won and you lost.

Giani darts to the side, catching Spike by surprise.  He rolls behind him, bringing him over with a powerful German Suplex.  Spike holds onto his back, wincing a bit in pain.  Giani wraps his legs around Spike’s upper body, locking on the Body Scissors that seems to stretch Spike past his limits.

Giani:  They’re full of surprises?  I’M full of surprises, bro!  I’ve learned so much in my two years of wrestlin’, and I’m always learnin’ more.  The second someone thinks they figured me out, I can hit a Moonsault like a pro.  I can make a season ring veteran like ya’self tap out with a Body Scissors.  Then I can land a three hit combo that will earn a K.O.  That’s just what I do.  Nobody thought I would be the one goin’ on to face Goth at December II Dismember.  Everyone thought Simon or Nick would be in my spot, but what did I do?

Spike wiggles around, trying to get free, but Giani’s thighs are locked on like a vice.  Spike grunts as he tries to spin over, but Giani holds on tightly, stretching out Spike’s neck, which causes him to fall down on the mat, belly first.

Spike:  I can’t tell a lie… you know how to wear down an opponent.  But, you can’t just go into a match assuming that you’re going to win.  The end result shouldn’t even be a factor.  Figuring out how to break them down, piece by piece… that’s how you win matches.

Giani:  I won the SCW Tag Team Championships with James by goin’ in and focusin’ on beatin’ the man I’m gonna beat for the Heavyweight belt.  I told everyone I was gonna do it, and wait, what happened?

Spike:  That’s not the point!

Giani:  That’s exactly the point!  Confidence!  Aren’t ya supposed to be the teacher here?  I kept my eyes on the prize, and I beat the very freak I’m gonna beat to get the SCW Heavyweight Championship.  Goin’ into this match with Simon is just a way for me to warm up before I beat Goth.  It is that simple.

While Giani is making his point, Spike finally flips Giani off of his back.  He gets up, gaining some distance between them as he takes his turn to gather himself.  He stumbles a bit as the long training session is starting to wear on the slightly rusty Spike.  Giani gets to his feet, ready to take the offense once more.

Spike:  Right there, you aren’t even focusing on Simon.  You’re so worried about Goth that Simon could very well slide right past you, getting the victory.  With a loss like that, it could very well effect you going into the Super Card, and I’m not sure three losses in a row would be very good for your self esteem.  You might return to old ways…

Giani and Spike circle one another, fatigue showing on both of their faces.  However, this seems more like a mental fatigue than anything.  Giani takes in a shallow breath, wiping at his mouth before taking another very visible breath.  Spike matches the breath, but remains a stone-like figure.

Giani:  No matter what, I’m not returning to that life.  Even if I do decide one day that I’m just an unapologetic asshole, at least I can say then that I’ve beaten the best this company has to offer.

Spike:  So, you’re saying that you’re going to be a raging dick who actually deserves to have such a high opinion of yourself?

Giani nods, smirking at the thought before quickly shaking it away in shame.  Spike gets a half smirk upon his face, letting out a chuckle.  Spike looks up at the clock and sighs, pulling a white rag from his back pocket.  He tosses it on the ground.

Spike:  It looks like you won this one on a technicality.  I think three straight hours of sparring is more than enough for today.  I don’t want to wear you out too quickly.  After all, you have to make it through tomorrow.

Giani sighs as he leans down to snatch the rag from the mat, holding it like a prized trophy.  However, he seems a little nervous upon hearing Spike’s last words.  He sighs and then leans against the turnbuckle, relaxing his body as much as he possibly can.

Giani:  I thought you said tomorrow we was gonna hit up the clubs here in Hollywood…

Spike:  I did… You are the “Italian Stallion”, are you not?  And last I heard, you have been abstinent for two and a half weeks… Those starfuckers are going to sense that right away, and they’re going to eat you up like bitches on a raw steak…

Spike grins at Giani almost sadistically.  Giani looks relieved by this news, even sparing a relieved laugh.  He stuffs the rag under his arm as he leans under the top rope, preparing to exit the ring.  He gets one leg on the apron before Spike grabs onto his shoulder.  Giani stops just in time to see Vixen walk into the room, dressed in her street clothes of camouflage pants and an NXT babydoll tee.  She stares at Giani suspiciously for a moment before Spike leans down, almost whispering into Giani’s ear.

Spike:  One last thing… Don’t apologize for being the next big thing, and don’t apologize for being a beast.  If these assholes can’t see that, then they deserve a rude awakening.  If Simon wants to try to steal your thunder, then maybe he deserves a special kind of ass kicking…

Vixen catches just a fraction of what is said, but it is enough for her to get a sly grin on her face.  Spike quickly exits the ring, coming beside her as they engage in a passionate kiss.  These words resonate with Giani, making him think for a moment.  He stays straddling the middle rope as Spike retires with Vixen to the door reading “Men’s Locker Room”.  He seems a little unsettled by this bit of advice as we fade out.

{I got my speakers on WRECKED!}

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”I never said to contain the beast, Giani… I said that you need to learn to control it.  Make it work for you, rather than being a slave to it.  You have so much potential, and the lot of Sin City Wrestling is going to see this, starting on Sunday when you take down Simon Jones…”


{fin}