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Messages - Kristopher Ryans

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61
Climax Control Archives / Flying Solo
« on: March 03, 2017, 11:49:31 PM »
 6:51am
Honolulu, Hawaii
3 March 2017



The video starts with a camera fixed on Jason Halich. He is sitting in a lawn chair, and the only thing that can be seen around him in the frame is sand. Though we are outside, it is just before dawn, so the low level of light make it hard to read his face. He is not directly facing the camera though, looking above and left of it like the real view the opposite direction.

”Jet City is flying solo this week in a lot more ways than I realized until just now. It started out with just this match. Yeah, two SCW Tag Champions are going to be teaming together, but the person standing on my side of the ring isn’t Kris, so I have a hard time finding a way to get motivated without him out there. I guess that kind of sounds sappy, or even a little disturbing, but anyone that has been around him knows that doing shows is a lot more fun with him than it is by yourself.”

He shrugs, forcing a smile onto his face that can be seen as the sun rises just high enough to finally splash a little light where he is sitting.

”Then his daughter born on my daughter’s birthday. A lot of you can see why that is a little rough for me. We kind of touched on that subject once or twice before now. To push it a little further, he names her after our sister, a second big emotional hole in our lives. Of course, as happy as I am for him, that meant that not only was I going to be flying solo in this match, I was flying solo all together. When that thought came to me, I handed him back his daughter, drove to the airport, hopped on a plane, and found myself here not even twenty-four hours later.”

He laughs, but even people that are mostly deaf can hear how forced it sounds.

”Nothing like a sporadic vacation to a beach to take stock of your life on a random... Thursday… or whatever today is… Friday at this point. Who knows what it will be by the time I actually get around to putting it up. I guess I’m just taking stock of my life and not liking the fact that I see everyone else moving forward, while I stand in the same place.”

He shakes his head, not happy with the way that he worded the thought, and then physically waving it away.

”Talking about Kris as a lead in with that was a terrible segway. That’s not at all what I mean. He can take all of those personal steps for himself without me getting too bent out of shape. The similarities with dates and names is a little weird to get used to, but not upsetting. The rebuilding of all of the bridges he has burned is great for him. Personally, I am perfectly content with being the unmarried older guy that’s not thirsting over every slut on Twitter. The standing still that I’m talking about is professionally. Last time I made a real run of anything, I went to the very top of a company in my first match, and then stayed there until someone literally ended my career for a few years. I came to SCW and history repeated itself. I find myself at the very top of my division from my very first match, and they can’t seem to find anyone to take the championship away from me. This time I even have Kris there to mess everything up, and still cannot seem to lose. The match that Rage technically won? I never did a damn thing to actually get disqualified so clearly someone paid a referee to do them a favor.”

The laugh that follows the words is much more genuine than the first.

”I can’t seem to lose, and the people running this company will tell you at every turn that we aren’t actually expected to do much of anything. Every time we retain it seems everyone is surprised. Every time Jet City does one of these promos, we get all kinds of comments about how we are biting off more than we can chew. Yet, we told you The Elder Bitches would fail. They did. We said The Unholy Alliance was good on paper but a serious mismatch in reality, and nobody believed we had a chance in either match that they failed to beat us in. We literally made fun of how little Dying Breed cared about their limp-wristed shot at the titles, and then proved those words as gospel truth when the bell rang. Their response to every team being a lack of a real challenge is to just throw a bunch of them at us at once. Maybe that is another idea that looks good on paper, but it’s also one that’s going to fail to take the titles away from Jet City. You’re going to hear us say that a lot in the coming weeks, but for some reason everyone will be surprised when it happens.”

He shakes his head and looks away from the horizon line and actually into the camera for the first time.

”But… again… that’s not really the point that I am trying to make. Jet City will handle what Jet City has to handle, when Jet City has to handle it. This week is about something a little different. Last time I did this, I plateaued and it took injury to force me out of my position. I remember thinking that I wish I had done so much more. Why did I stop at the top of one division, or one company? If I was so dominant, why did I not attempt to spread myself across a couple companies and become an even bigger name than I was. The longer I had to think about it, the more I realized that people these days still remember companies that I was part of, and even one that I owned. I’m still a pretty well known guy without really taking advantage when I was the top of my game. The question I have been faced with is, am I okay with just being a tag team champion, or do I want something more for myself. Kris has Blast From The Past coming up, and if he wins that, and then a singles title, Jet City is done for pretty much on the spot. That’s not really a whole lot different from getting injured. The rug still gets pulled out from under your feet in both situations. There are no double champions in SCW.”

He shrugs, holding his arms out to his sides, palms up towards the brightening sky.

”With everyone around me thinking about their future, escaping away to a warm play and a nice beach seemed to be the perfect place to think about mine. What is going to happen if Kris is ready to move on? Before losing that match, I thought that him wanting to strike out on his own might be a while. I thought that I would have a little more time. Maybe that I would be more ready to leave. As it is, this whole ride could be coming to an end and I don’t know whether to recruit a new tag team partner, go after some singles gold, or maybe look to different companies with new challenges, or old grudges. I’ve been straight about being here because this company means the world to Kris. I have a lot of respect for everyone here, but I still kind of feel like an outsider. I know how people like Chelsea Payne feel when they talk about being on the outside of Sin City and looking in, and she seems to be another one of those people that is branching out without a lot of people actually noticing it.”

He winks at the camera, and turns his attention to the horizon line again. The sun raises high enough for him to have to squint when he is looking that direction. More of his surroundings start to be visible, like the stairway leading up from the beach behind him.

”Where does that leave us, huh? I’m flying totally solo on what is supposed to be a two man operation. Just in general, Jet City is possibly coming up on big changes depending on what happens in the coming months. I have a bunch of options, but am almost paralyzed into inaction. Typically it is a good thing to be able to see the big picture instead of just focusing on the week to week. If you have a plan, and a direction, your goals are easier to meet. Jet City had a plan when we first started doing this a year ago. We haven’t lost a match together since that time. This week it seems to be a curse that I can’t unsee the big picture. I can’t stop looking at the big things that are ahead. Even looking forward to facing just about every team in the tag team division in the same night is attention getting. It makes it easy to overlook this week, and this odd little tag match. It is really less of a tag match and more of two singles matches racing to see who can finish first.”

He leans forward in his chair, and brings his feet down to the sand on either side of the chair. The strangeness of it made it more interesting to him.

”Think about it, inside the match, if it were a straight tag match, we would have The Elders vs The Elders. However, Jon is really only in the ring with me. He’s not going to have anything to do with Alana just like I’m not going to have anything to do with Uriella. Aside from taking turns competing, this isn’t a whole lot like a real tag match. As such, I really don’t have to care about my partner. Jet City and the Female Elders get along well enough. But, for me, Jet City and those Elder Bitches are just not going to ever be cool. For me, this match is just as much Jet City vs Elders Bitches as it is JHalc vs Jon Dough. The problem with that is, we already know the result to Jet City vs anybody on this roster goes, let alone the sorry asses we took the titles from to start our amazing reign. So you can bank that this match is not going to go any differently. If I were Alana, I would be pushing myself real hard this week, because if she can’t get the job done against Uriella before I get bored, then I’m going to wreck a member of The Elders right in front of her so that I can jet out of the arena and hope things get back to normal next week.”

He pushes himself up from the chair and crosses the short distance to the camera, picking it up, and spinning it around to see the sunrise across the water.

”If any of you think you have something important to tell me in the next few days, I want you to think about if you would want to be bothered by anybody when this was the view you were trying to enjoy. And then, regardless of what you think, you can just fuck right off anyways. Jon, I might be flying solo, but after a few more days like this, I’m going to be more than ready to get this over quickly so that I can come back to looking at this, instead of you standing across a ring from me.”

The screen starts to slowly fade to black, and then cuts off entirely.

62
Climax Control Archives / Insanity
« on: February 17, 2017, 11:05:30 PM »
 


”Ivan Darrell and Andrew Garcia….”

Jason’s voice can be heard before the camera even focuses on the two men that are standing in front of it. The figure next to him speaks, not letting the fans down by not appearing next to his brother.

”Dying Breed...”

The camera comes into focus on the two. Each of their shirts is a plain color, Jason’s red and Kris’ orange. Across the front of each shirt is a word, but they are not the same. The older brother’s shirt reads, “#Jet” while the younger’s reads “#City”. They are even standing on the proper sides, so that fans watching can read left to right across their chests and put the team name together correctly.

”Former SCW Tag Team Champions...”

Until now, both of their voices had sounded genuine. Each statement was bold, and meant to be a headline of sorts. Kris is the first to break from that, turning to his brother and complaining.

”From like… March 2015 to… later in March 2015. Do we really have to build these guys up as important? Like, I feel like everything we have to say is just so much stronger without doing the whole song and dance. We have to mention their ‘blink and you missed it’ tag team title reign, when they didn’t even have to beat the former champions to win the belts? I don’t think I can stomach this one Jay.”

Jason tries to stay focused on the camera, and not break from the serious look on his face, but when he notices that Kris is not just going to stop and go back to what they were doing, he turns his head and then moves his eyes back and forth between Kris and the camera, hinting at him to stick to what they were doing.

”Oh fuck you and your camera! These guys haven’t done anything worth getting a title shot in a while. So they beat the Bad Boys and get to move to the front of the line? We hate The Elder Bitches, but they should have been given this shot instead of these two. How good can the Bad Boys be? Isn’t one of them brain dead enough to be able to stomach conversation with Veronica Taylor?”

Jason starts nodding back towards the camera, becoming more overt in trying to get his brother to go back to talking to it instead of him.

”For the love of God… WHAT?!”

Jason extends an arm to the camera, and finally snaps, raising his voice and yelling at his brother and tag partner.

”Talk to the camera. Vent frustrations to people buying tickets. Sell the match to people that are planning to leave early and beat the traffic out of the arena. Stop telling me things I already know, and talk to them. Why can you nev---”

Kris cuts him off, holding up his hand and turning from his brother to the camera.

”Want frustration? Here is some frustration. We are defending our titles in a main event that they didn’t earn, and that we never asked for. It’s got all of thirty seconds worth of hype and thought put into it. From what I remember, I’m not sure we’ve so much as really talked to each other since Jet City has been around SCW. Other than a shot at titles that they couldn’t hang onto last time, what reason do they have to be excited about the idea of fighting Jet City?”

He waits, but Jason does not answer him, and neither does the camera as a result of being an inanimate object. Unchecked, Kris just keeps rambling.

”It’s not like they don’t like us. We haven’t been mixing it up with Dying Breed on social media like we occasionally do with the likes of “The Promise Breaker” Rage, or Drake Green’s little bitch J2H. We didn’t cross paths in the back, or come out and take note of one of their matches. There is nothing here. So, that just leaves me with one question: How many di---”

The camera feed cuts awkwardly in the middle of the sentence, and starts abruptly what had to be a few moments after that. When it does come back, Jason is stepping away from the camera, when only a frame ago he was directly next to Kris. The tone of Kris’ voice had changed entirely, almost remorseful.

”How was I supposed to know? It’s not like I really know or pay attention to them.”

Jason shakes his head, and motions back to the camera, ushering Kris to take a different route with his words.

”Yeah, well you know now….”

Kris nods, but the look on his face shows that if he does actually care, it is very little.

”It doesn’t matter how or why Dying Breed got this match. I don’t know what strings they pulled, or favors they called in, but here we are. I also don’t want to give any of you the impression that I’m not game to walk down the aisle and compete in this match. I’m going to be in the middle of that beautiful six sided ring, in a main event, as a reigning champion. That’s not something that having less than stellar opponents is going to change. Jet City is still going to come out there, do our thing, and walk away with another title defense under our belt. By my count, that would roughly be two more than Dying Breed racked up in the three weeks that they held these championships. If they think that they have a snowball’s chance in hell at walking out of this with a win, then The Mean Girls are not the only special needs case on this roster. And just like that faction of dumb sluts, these two can easily ‘Get Fi---”

Again, the feed awkwardly cuts. Jason goes from standing at Kris’ side to having his back to the camera, walking back to the position that he technically never left. This time he is beyond angry though.

”Just shut up. I’ll do it myself.”

Kris shakes his head furiously and argues that directorial choice.

”Listen asshole, if you think that you still get to order me around after I beat your ass in our last match, then you can eat a mouthful of my ba--”

Again the camera cuts, but this time when it returns, Jason is in front of it by himself. He takes a deep breath, clearly annoyed.

”You know what the definition of insanity is according to Einstein? I don’t think, for a second, that there is any way that a viewer of this particular kind of entertainment has never heard the phrase quoted, but I will give it to you for the millionth time anyway. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. It is horribly cliched to point out, but everything about my current situation ties to that phrase.”

He expertly pauses, allowing the minds of those that are watching the video to try and figure out what he was going to say next. Confirming the most thought of choice, his next words reference his brother.

”Trying to get Kris to stay away from a handful of subjects during a promo by playing nice, was obviously just stupid. Trying to enforce those rules while being polite was insanity. You people aren’t going to believe this, but we started this at nine this morning. Thirteen hours later, here I am by myself. I blame myself, mostly…. I think we all know exactly where Kris stands though. Fortunately for us all, he is taking a little nonconsensual nap of screen.”

He raises a finger and points out of frame to the left of the camera. Slowly it turns and shows the opposite side of the basement than what they were facing. In the small resting area to the side of the obstacle course that has made appearances in previous promos, is a couch that looks ripped apart. The table there has been flipped over, two glass end tables have been shattered. In all of the mess, resting on the back of the couch, is a foot up in the air. The rest of the other half of Jet City was out of view, but the PF Flyer on his foot gave his identity away. Slowly the camera starts to move back to the standing half of the SCW Tag Team Champions.  

”Let me remind all of you, I’m no stranger to being called a little insane, but I am not the only one in this equation that is displaying that kind of behavior. Don’t believe me? Think about SCW Management. Before our first match with the Unholy Alliance, we told management that they didn’t deserve it, and that they couldn’t beat us. They proved on that night that they didn’t need to beat us. The Unholy Alliance just needed to give management a little sizzle and they would get a title shot. Sure enough, their plan worked. They got their match, and again, Kris and I told management that they didn’t deserve it, and that they would lose. Inception II came and went, but the SCW Tag Team Champions remained the same. Now here we are, after an attempt to pull us apart, with Jet City delivering the news that a team has done nothing worth giving a title shot to, and because they were never made to earn it, they are not motivated to take these titles. Dying Breed is going to lose, because the powers that be in SCW keep doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting one of these teams to knock us off the top of the mountain. ”

He pauses, shaking his head.

”And on the subject of the vampire and the mobster, I heard it mentioned during last week’s show that the big win they picked up has moved them back into our sights. Let me be the first person to tell you, they are further off of our radar than Dying Breed was before this match was announced. They fail to beat us once, maybe giving them another shot makes sense. At this point they have failed twice, and no winning record against other teams is going to change the fact that they CANNOT beat Jet City. It would be insane to book that match for a third time. Think about it gentlemen.”

He brings both of his hands up to cover his mouth, his eyes going wide. Still feigning mock outrage at his own words, his voice becomes much more high pitched as he mimics the voice of Ms. Rocky Mountains as best he can.

”But Jason, talking about The Unholy Alliance means that Jet City is already looking past Dying Breed, but that match is for the titles….”

His face goes emotionless, and he shakes his head slowly back and forth, rolling his eyes.

”Are we underestimating them? Maybe. Are we looking past them? Definitely. A successful tag team always keeps their eyes on the future. Why? Because there shouldn’t be any doubt in their minds that there is another challenge coming after this hurdle gets jumped. The moment you start thinking that maybe your next challenge is going to be your last, is the moment that you lose the championship you’re holding. Rest assured, that’s not going to be a line of thinking going through any of the heads in Jet City. We are looking ahead, because anyone thinking that Dying Breed is going to be the team that ends our title reign needs to be committed to a room with fluffy walls and a hug jacket.”

He laughs.

”So on behalf of my brother, “Mr. Jet City” Kristopher Halich, I’m going to suggest that before Dying Breed comes out the ring for the main event, they pick up a phone and use it to call an ambulance.”

He takes a few steps closer to the camera, leaning in so that only his face fills the frame.

”Dying Breed is going to need it, because they think they are leaving with tag team gold, when really they are walking into the worst accident of their career, and will be lucky to walk out.”

The camera feed fades out to black, and just before it cuts off, the Jet City logo pops up, freezing on the frame as the video ends.

63
Climax Control Archives / What Motivates Us
« on: February 03, 2017, 10:55:02 PM »
 

The screen starts out black and slowly starts to fade in. We see Jason Halich, dressed in a suit, climbing up the stairs of what looks like the outside of a church. However, as we follow inside the building, it is clear that it is not a church at all, but some kind of mausoleum. There are plaques along the walls, stacked five high from floor to ceiling and each about the length of a coffin. The hallway in front of him stretches down the length of a football field, and there are several doorways leading out both sides of the building. All of the doors were open, the backside of the building leading out to the main cemetery. Jason stops at one of the plaques, but something through the door catches his eye.

”You know, I was thinking that coming here might not have been much of a good idea, but apparently I was wrong. It would appear that someone had the same idea when we did, or at least something similar.”
>He turns to the camera for the first time, and points them to look through the doorway. None of the viewers are surprised to see Kris Halich sitting in front of one of the gravestones most of the way down the aisle. We do not pick up what he is saying from this distance, but can clearly see him turn to the camera. The red haired woman operating the camera turns to Jason and shakes her head. He turns back to the camera and starts to lead them back to the plaque that he previously stopped at. He does not draw immediate attention to it though, gesturing back towards Kris.


”I should have been able to guess what he was going to want to get off of his chest before we did this whole match. I guess I doubted whether or not he was ready to talk about that part of his life. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. In the last year he has slowly allowed himself to become a normal person. By that I don’t mean grow up. In the Peter Pan sense of the phrase, that’s never going to happen for him. He’s never going to let go of that part of himself that half of you probably hate, and the rest of you love. That polarizing, harsh, hurtful sarcasm that he uses to pick at people, or make people laugh is never going to go away. He was like that long before drugs, and long before ever becoming people recognize in a crowd. ”

He laughs, shaking his head. He had tried to force Kris out of that attitude for years, and it had most likely made things worse instead of better. Kris had a way of doing the exact opposite of what Jay told him to do out of spite.

”What I mean is that, for the first time ever, he is not boxing himself off. He swore to me from the first moment he ever considered the idea of marriage, that he was never going to get married. His reasoning being that our sister was never going to get to have her own special day, so he shouldn’t get to either. He told me that he wasn’t going to have kids, because he clearly doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone anyone else. I have never seen him willing do a job that wasn’t wrestling related. That is, until now. He does a lot of work in rehab centers, and goes to a ton of groups to try and keep people away from stuff. He cares more about his son than I have ever seen him care about anything in his entire life. He finally fought for and got married to the only girl he ever let really get close to him, and that includes Liz Smalls. He has turned his life around, and doesn’t really carry the burden of our sister’s death anymore. It even has a little to do with the woman out there with him kind of filling in as the surrogate sister he feels like he failed. He’s allowing himself to have a real life, and form relationships with people for the first time. It’s one of the reasons that I convinced him to do this Jet City thing. I saw it happening and wanted to come along for the ride. I wanted to stay close to see all of that stuff happen at the same time that he finally came into this business and really succeeded. I wanted to be a part of that greatness, to bring this whole thing full circle.”

He takes a deep breath, and then nods his head.

”At this point in my career, I can admit a few things without feeling bad about them, or needing any pity after I say them. I have won world titles, triple crowns, and have been inducted into hall of fames, but I’m not that guy anymore. In all, I have had five different surgeries on my right knee. To say I lose a step with each year that I get older is an understatement. The reason that I stayed away for so long, is because I can honestly say it took the majority of the three years I have been out of the ring for my knee to get back to normal after what Blyss Lockhart did to me. That’s not to say that I am not every bit as talented as I have always been. It does mean that I know I am to a point where being a tag team champion is probably the only thing that I have left on the table. I know if it came down to just me having to go full speed for world class matches a half hour at a time every single week, I would be on the injured list in just a few months. I don’t have that kind of stamina anymore.”

Again, he gestures out towards the door where his brother is still sitting.

”What I do have, or better yet what Jet City has, is that kid out there that is a bottomless pit of stamina. For the shortcomings that I have, he has the counterbalance. For every imperfection that he has when the tempo of a match slows down, I have the knowhow to get us out of that situation. Our skillsets are somewhat opposite. Our personalities are somewhat opposite too. I know that you can all tell the differences between us when we are separate. I know that you can all also see how everyone around Kris gets sucked into his little sphere and start to show some of his qualities. I think that’s what makes Jet City entertaining to watch. At the end of the day, we don’t get along all the time. We don’t pretend to, but we can come together and lay both a verbal and physical beating on anyone on this roster. You’re not going to hear Jet City ranting about breaking bones or ending people. If you want that you can turn into half of the SCW roster and hear that. We give people something a little different. Maybe that’s what Mark and Christian saw in us.”

He looks down again, and chuckles lightly to himself. He had not ever denied that he enjoyed everything that Jet City had done as a group. Everyone on Twitter has seen him brag about how it has been the best time he has ever shared with his brother.

”He chose to talk about this match from out there for only one reason that I can think of that makes any sense. The person that has always kind of steered his life is out there. For a long time he refused to have any happiness that she couldn’t have because he blamed himself. Now, he is determined to be happy enough for both of them. I’m here for the same reason.”

He steps out of the way, and nods to the plaque behind him that we can now see reads EQH. There was no full name, no dates, and no short phrase of who the person was. Those familiar with Jason’s history know pretty well who it is though.

”Kris had an epiphany about a year ago, and decided that he was going to stop running. If I am honest, I am jealous that it happened to him before it happened to me. Granted, he carried the weight about for two decades. For me it has only been a few years. I quit this business once before in order to go try and be normal. I got engaged, had a kid, but we all know that I don’t have either of the above anymore. We have heard the story dragged out on Twitter. We have seen it mentioned in countless promos by tasteless people desperate to win a title, but lacking any real talent to win one. I have heard my daughter’s name brought up so many times by people in attempt to dig at me, that I’m desensitized. She’s the reason that I am out touring with SCW past what I know I should be. That’s why you don’t see me settling down with someone and leading a quiet life. I tried all of the things that Kris is starting to build for himself, and I failed, so here I am.”

He brings his eyes back up to the lens of the camera, but his face fails to show any emotion at all, including the signature smirk that rarely ever leaves his face.

”I’m hiding from life under the guise of wanting to go out with a bang. It’s not without its perks though. I mean, this whole Jet City experience has been the most fun I have had professionally. I would throw away every world title I have ever held if it meant I could go back in time a few years and get this whole thing started back then. I am starting to fear that I have stayed past my welcome as an individual though, at least on a regular basis. The strange thing is, Kris and I have talked about this match. In fact, Christian, Mark, and I have talked about this match before. The day that we got booked in the tag team title match, I went to the two of them and told them that before I left, I wanted to have this match. Regardless of anything else that happened, I wanted to make this happen before I signed off forever. I would have preferred it to come at the very end, or at least after we dropped the titles, but now is as good a time as any.”

The smirk returns to his face, confidence starting to come back to him.

”Two things about this match have become painfully obvious to me. The first of them is the way to win. The second, the way to lose. Kris is the kind of guy that could never shake his tendency to fly over fight. If you put him in a situation where he has to stand toe to toe with you in the middle of the ring, he doesn’t know what to do. More than half of his game is focused on misdirection, and catching people sleeping. The stamina that I talked about early is what gets him out of trouble as quickly as it can land him in it. For my brother it is all about high risk and high reward. The way for me to win this match is to be the one that makes the next to last mistake. While Kris’ style of offense opens him up to making a lot of mistakes, my style is the opposite. The less I do that can be turned against me, the better off I am going to be. The more that I can prevent Kris from flying around the ring, the longer I’m going to be able to hold my own against him.”

He shrugs, trying to laugh it off but knowing that with his slower pace, he is going to end up being a sitting duck a handful of times in this match.

”The way to lose, is to try and treat this match like something that I can plan for. My brother is not like any opponent that I have faced. In fact, if you just look at it from a statistical point of view, he has beaten me more times than anyone else in the world. There are so many people that I have faced more than once, but none of them have fared as well as Kris has. Every time that I thought I had him figured out, he pulls something new out of his bag of tricks. No matter how many times we spar together, it never follows the same format. Our fights never stick to the same script. Kris has no style, because he has no training. The same impulsiveness that he displays in life, he displays in that ring. Being in a ring with him is about trying to walk a tightrope with really bad vertigo. You’re constantly off balance and just trying to keep your feet under you, because if you don’t, you’re done for.”

He laughs at the thought.

”I thought that by the time this match happened, I would be okay with either way that it went down. I was plotting this out to be the last match that I was ever a part of. Jet City being a success story has prevented that from becoming a reality. I am going to be around for a lot longer, because we aren’t letting go of those titles any time soon. If you doubt that, ask The Unholy Alliance or The Elder Bitches. The important thing is, I would have been okay losing if it was my last match. It would be a good way of turning over the spotlight to my brother and stepping out of the picture. I’m not stepping out though, so I’m not about to let him walk away a winner without giving it my best, hardest shot. I’m not ready to look him in the eye and have to admit that he is better than I am. I am not ready to be the brother that has to be in the other’s shadow yet. I have held onto this spotlight since he first fell into drugs. There’ll be a day that comes where he takes it from me, and that day is fast approaching, but it is not Sunday. Sunday is just going to be another in a long line of fights.”

He turns and looks back at the plaque on the wall again, touching the tips of his fingers to it before starting to step away.

”People have been waiting to buy a front row ticket to this fight for years, so I’m not about to let people down. Lots of people on Twitter have been adamant about the fact that because of the things Kris says and does, that they want me to maim him. There are others that want him to put me out of their misery. For all of those reasons, and tons I can’t even start to list, this is going to me the match that all of you want to tune in and see. If you do, you’re going to see two people venting more than twenty years of frustration, and refusing to let the other have any kind of bragging rights. In a normal match, a person will gloat until they move on with their life. When you fight family, you have to hear about the outcome until one of the two of you die. Neither of us want to lose, but more importantly neither of us wants the other to win. ”

He smiles widely, flashing his teeth in doing so, and starts to walk away from the camera. He turns, to face it while walking backwards.

”Do yourselves a favor, and don’t miss this regardless of which one of us you want to see walk away a winner. Rarely do you get a match that means so much to the two people in the ring without a championship on the line. If Christian and Mark were a little smarter, they would have put this thing on a pay per view, and pre-sold the movie rights. It’s what I would have done if I were them...”

He holds his arms out to his sides, and shrugs at their missed opportunity.

”I’ll see you all Saturday. None of you will be disappointed.”

He turns on his heel, headed out of the building, and the feed fades to black.

64
Climax Control Archives / Jet City Trio
« on: February 03, 2017, 09:15:12 PM »
 
The scene opens close up on Kristopher Halich’s face. We can see that his knees are pulled up to his chest, and he is leaning against something, but we cannot really tell what. From the glare in his eyes, and the natural light though, he is clearly sitting somewhere outdoors. From his attire, jeans and a plain red t-shirt show it must be somewhere warm.

“For as long as I can remember, there has always been one person there for me every time that things went wrong. At the point that everyone else leaves, there is always one person there to pick up the pieces. I know that it’s not just me that sees it that way either, because The Unholy Alliance hit on it pretty hard both times we faced them. Jason is always there to clean up my messes. He is always looking out for me. He sacrificed so many things in his life to make sure that I was taken care of, and it didn’t start after he started competing and blew up to be the person you all know today. He dropped out of school to get a job and pay for things so that I wouldn’t have to do the same thing. He took beatings for me so that I wouldn’t have to. He has paid for me to go to rehab so many times that I’ve honestly lost count. I could sit here and list all of the things that he has done for me, and all of the disasters he has helped me to avoid, but I don’t think it would hold your attention for the hours that it would take. Instead, I can sum it up in one statement. I would not be breathing right now if not for Jason Halich.”

It was a somewhat different side of Kris than SCW viewers have ever gotten to see. There is no confident taunting in his every statement.

“It is weird that we are going to be across the ring from one another, because in the four years that I have been doing this, it has never happened. We have gotten offers, and opportunities, but something always got in the way. There have been moments when we were at each other’s throats and a match like this would have gotten bloody, and violent, but we passed up doing it. There have been other moments where we have fought in hotel rooms, driveways, living rooms, and bars, but never in front of a crowd of more than a few strangers or a handful of friends. I have lost my fair share, and I have won my fair share. No two fights were perfectly alike. This is different though.”

The whole situation clearly bother him more than he was willing to let on. The camera starts to back off of him, showing the stone texture of whatever he is leaning against.

“We didn’t join SCW to go head-to-head. We joined this company in order to build one another up, not tear each other down. Anyone that knows us knows that we have issues. More than being brothers, there is an aspect of a father-son relationship here that we never really shed any light on. We didn’t have great parents. To tell you the truth, we didn’t even have good parents. One of them was a miserable son of a bitch that never contributed any positive experiences to our lives. The other was more or less an absentee from my first memory in this world. The only person I ever had to look up to, to take care of me, that ever gave a shit about me, is my brother. Our struggles that a lot of people see as a sibling rivalry are actually more the kind of arguments that a parent has with a rebelling teenager. It is because he was more of parent than a brother that the two of us have never been, and will probably never be, friends. Everyone has an experience where their parents had an idea for how they should live their life, and because of that, there is friction.”

On his last word, he brings his knuckles together, dragging them across each other. He shakes his head, looking away from the camera, his eyes narrowing on something. There is a light chuckle that escapes his mouth and he loses his train of thought. With a second shake of his head he comes back to the camera, sighing.

“When people talk negatively about me, the biggest thing that they hit on is my history of drug abuse. I have fans come up to me, and they always ask the same thing: Why is it that none of it seems to bother you? See, I out my drug history as a way to control the narrative against me. I put it out there for everyone to grab onto it and use against me, because if that is what they choose to blast me about, I can take it. There are so many other things that I don’t want out there, because putting them out there means that it can be used against me. There are some things that I just didn’t think that I could handle being turned into a punchline. In this business, divorces, abortions, dead children, heinous violent acts, and so many more things can be turned into cheap jokes made to get into a person’s head all to win a match. In that kind of world, I would rather people just talk about the fact that I got into drugs at a young age, and for the life of me I have never been able to stay off of them for more than a year at a time without a setback. I can handle that because those choices are mine, and that means the consequences are on me alone.”

He puts a hand on the ground, and pushes himself forward, brushing off his pants as he gets to his feet. The camera stays focused enough on him to not show his surroundings. However, as he stands, we now see the daylight sky in the background behind him.

“One of those things that I don’t talk about is the fact that there aren’t two members of Jet City, but three. Before Jason and I signed a contract, we had to go and ask permission to do so. We made promises to someone. His was that he wouldn’t let me be a danger to myself anymore. Typically that meant that I wasn’t going to be allowed to be on the road. My history with not being supervised is sketchy, at best, for reasons we have already covered. It made sense that he would make that promise. Mine was a little different. I made the promise that I wasn’t going to stay in this business at the expense of the only relationship that has survived all of my various fuck ups. I wasn’t going to keep doing this if it meant pushing my brother away.”

The camera finally backs off of him far enough to show that where he is standing is a cemetery.

“So, before we showed up at the SCW Halloween show dressed as siamese twins, we came here. Where is here exactly? This is the place that it all leads back to. This is where Jet City was born. This is the place that the third member of our team never gets to leave.”

There are headstones surrounding where he now stands, but the fans cannot catch any of the text on them before the camera focuses on the one he was leaning on.

Lindsay Marie Halich
July 11, 1991 - September 25, 1993


The camera comes back up to Kris, who is looking down at the ground instead of at the camera. His hands were buried in his pocket and the anxiety of the topic had him shifting lightly back and forth on his feet.

“My sister was only two years old when she fell, broke her neck, and never got a chance to do anything that she deserved to be able to do in her life. As far as parents went, I already told you the kind of people that they were. One bolted, and I wish she took the other with her when she did. Neither could accept responsibility that two kids, that weren’t even old enough to take care of themselves, should have never been left on their own to watch over a toddler. That blame got passed onto us, and I have carried it around without saying anything about it publicly for my entire career. That blame broke me in ways that are very public. It didn’t break Jason though. If anything, fighting back against it made him stronger. It made him a better parent than either of the ones that we actually had. It made him protective of the one person that he had left that meant anything at all to him. It meant that no matter how badly, or how many times I fucked up, he wasn’t ever going to give up on me because he learned how much it hurt to lose a sibling at the bright young age of seven years old.”

He manages to look back up at the camera, but only because the questions, and accusations that he had been met with for weeks should have been answered in that one story.

“If any of you have ever wondered how two people that grew up in the same house could be so different, then maybe that helps explain it. If any of you, like the Unholy Alliance, have wondered how many more times I have to fuck up before he writes me off, now you know. What I have come to accept in the last few weeks is that there is no limit. There’s no threshold that I can push it to where he leaves. I cannot be written off in his mind. I have spent more than two decades trying to push him away, because I didn’t want anyone to get close enough to me so that it was painful when they left. I have tried to shove him out of my life dozens of times because I didn’t want him to miss me when I was gone, or waste one second worrying about my well being if I disappeared. I have tried everything that I could to avoid being a good person, friend, brother, or even son. None of it has worked. I’m stuck with him.”

He laughs, amused, but cleared not thrilled with the idea.

“So, those of you that were thinking that a match like this is going to be the end of Jet City, now know just how wrong you are. The fact remains that nothing can end Jet City. There’s never going to be a time that either of us gives up on the other, even if it means that we have to stand across the ring from one another and beat the other into submission. At the end of the day, this is not our first fight, and it is far from out last. The only difference between this one and any of the rest of them, is that you all get to sit back and enjoy this one with refreshments you bought from Samantha Marlowe at the concession stand.”

Again, he has to stop as he is unable to prevent himself from laughing lightly. He points at the camera, and winks, hoping on some level that she was watching. This voice was returning to the more jovial, sarcastic tone the fans were used to.

“Just because it’s not going to signal the end of Jet City, doesn’t mean that this match doesn’t serve a purpose. Any of you that paid attention to Jason pretending to be a Nobody a couple weeks ago knows that there is something very real on the line here. Being part of this business and wrestling around the world was my baby. He nurtured it while I wasn’t in a position to do so, and kept it breathing until I was able to get myself right enough to do so. However, in doing so, he found something that he loves doing, and that he was good at. Jason has been inducted into a Hall Of Fame. He has won awards. He has won championships that I have only ever dreamed of holding. On paper, this match isn’t even close. On one hand you have a highly documented superstar from several different companies. On the other hand, you have a junkie that has been moderately successful in exactly one of the five companies that have paid him to wrestle.”

He holds up his arms to his sides, shrugging in a very animated fashion and shaking his head.

“It’s not even close if you look at the stat line. At the same time, I see people on social media saying that they don’t know who to support, let alone who they think will actually walk away the winner. To me, that shows that all of you understand that what this match looks like on paper is going to be very different from the reality of it. My brother and I have two very different styles. He is calculated, and technical. He likes to break people down in order to beat them, and really only uses his speed as a last resort. He has training that I never got. Then you have me, who is more of a human wrecking ball where speed is the best thing that I have going for me. It is the first option, all the way through to the last option. If I am going to win, then I am going to have to stay on my feet and hope that my stamina lasts longer than his does.”

Finally getting into being focused on the match itself, he seems to hit his stride. The words flow much more fluidly, and naturally. The level of comfortability in his body language grew exponentially as it becomes more business related.

“I can’t tell any of you that I am confident that I am going to win this match. I honestly have no idea how it is going to play out. It is better that way, because like I said, we have fought more times than either of us can count and it has been a different story every single time. You can’t plan to fight someone that you have known since the moment that you were born. You can’t strategize to beat someone that knows every single thing that you have in your arsenal. The only thing that you can do is show up, throw everything, including the kitchen sink at him, and hope that when the dust settles that you are the one having your hand raised.”

He starts to walk up to the camera, again closing the frame almost solely around him. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“As far as any message that I have for my brother, there’s really only one thing to say. The two of us have made careers out of using anything and everything available to us to win a match. There has never been a rule that we would not bend or break in order to gain an advantage that could end with a win. That’s not going to be the case for me this week, and I hope that it is not the case for you. I am going to make certain that everything that I do is squeaky clean, because the only way that I want to beat you in front of a crowd like the one we will have Sunday is because I was just better. I don’t want to be more lucky. I don’t want to be the one that got away with the last trick. I don’t want to be the one walking away and talking about a cheap win. I want to beat you the right way, because I want you to really know that my time in your shadow is truly over. I want to beat you because I am better than you, even if only for one night in my life. That’s what I am bringing to Climax Control. Win or lose, we only do this one time. After Sunday night we will know which of us really belongs in the spotlight. Then we go back to beating up other people on the roster.”

He offers a smile to the camera, the first since the feed first started, and walks out of the frame. The camera again falls down to the granite headstone he was leaning against before fading to black.

65
Supercard Archives / Jet City Vs The Unholy Alliance
« on: January 20, 2017, 11:57:38 PM »
 
OFF-CAMERA
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
PROMISES
3:17 PM PST 1.20.17


Jason is sitting at a small circular table. It was not unlike those found inside fast food restaurants. If he were eating, it would have been much too small of a space to share with the person he came to see. However, he was not eating, and this was not a restaurant. Most of the grounds at Promises were pretty lavish. That is why Jason chose to come to this particular area. Just out of the back door of the main facility is a small smoking balcony, but the thin strip of walkway could not accommodate the couches and comfy looking chairs seen almost everywhere else. He chose this spot so that his brother could not sit back and relax for this conversation. He was going to have to sit close to him, and engage in the conversation whether he wanted to or not. If Jason knew anything about his brother, it was that it was almost undoubtedly going to be the latter instead of the former. He starts to tap his fingers on the table, finding a beat that he was satisfied with only moments before the doors to the facility open behind him and his brother comes out onto the balcony. Kris pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and thumbs open the flip-top of the box before taking one out. He rolls it between his fingers as he makes his way around the table. He does not immediately stop, walking to the next table to grab an ashtray. Kris tosses it to the table, and carefully sits down in front of his brother. For a few moments he continues to roll the cigarette in his fingers, waiting for Jason to look up. When he does, Kris offers him a smile, and then reaches into his front pocket for a small torch style lighter, bringing the cigarette to his mouth and inhaling while lighting the end.

JASON: Old habits, right?

Kris shrugs. He knew that this part of the conversation was coming. They had it every single time. It was even part of the reason that he had waited for his brother to acknowledge him before lighting it.

KRIS: I have never successfully made it through the program without them, and it’s not the kind of habit I take with me when I leave. The only person that doesn’t seem to grasp that is you, even though we have had this conversation too many times to count.

Jason does not stray from meeting his gaze, but shakes his head lightly.

JASON: Yeah, it’s hard to quit cold turkey, right? Going from a substance that will undoubtedly kill you, to nothing at all is a little easier if you sandwich in something that will just maybe kill you.

Kris nods, taking another drag and then flicking the ashes into the tray.

KRIS: Yet we still have to talk about it every single time.

Almost mimicking his brother perfectly, Jason nods, but rolls his eyes afterwards.

JASON: It is because you insist on pretending like you’re some kind of victim every time you are in here. You’re not. You put yourself in these positions. It’s nobody else’s doing. And then we are supposed to unabashedly praise you for being able to leave that crutch in rehab when you leave. You shouldn’t need a crutch, because you shouldn’t be here. I’m not going to pity or applaud anything you do here. You are a grown ass man that should have left this shit behind by now.

There is no response of defense that Kris can muster. They have had this talk yes, but it was never this spiteful. Jason had never been this angry, not even the second time. The volumes that speaks is enough to terrify Kris. After more than a dozen times, Jason should have softened. The second time should have always been the worst. The first time is a mistake, or error in judgement. The second time is a true betrayal of the people that helped him in the first place. He raises his cigarette to his lips, takes a deep breath, and slowly lowers it, exhaling through both his nose and his mouth. This time when he reaches for the ashtray, it is not to flick ashes, but to put it out, not even a third of the way through its burning.

KRIS: So why are you here, huh? Violet told me she talked to you, but you weren’t on board yet. I signed your papers. I haven’t left this god awful place in two weeks. Although, I am impressed that I got them to surrender my phone for a few hours a night.

Jason chuckles, and shrugs.

JASON: It helps keep up the appearance that you’re not in a rehab center. If you were, people would expect total radio silence. This way you get a little taste of the outside world, and I don’t have to answer questions I am way too tired to keep answering. Everyone wins.

Keeping up appearances was one thing, but actually allowing Kris to go back on the road was another. Kris knew that everything his brother and his family had done in the last two weeks was nothing more than a stall. Just because Jason ended up covering with SCW did not mean that Jet City was going to keep going. Even if he made promises to the crowd, it did not mean he had any intention of keeping them. At his core, he never cared about them.

KRIS: So what did you decide then? I can probably guess. I mean, based on the shitty look on your face, the fact that you’re not restraining your love of being a total dick, and the fact that this is the very last possible second to make a decision, it is not looking very good from where I sit. Why don’t you just spit it out and stop wasting your time dragging it out.

There was nothing in there that Jason could argue. He had actually waited to make a decision about the future of Jet City until after Kris sat down. Even better, Kris was completely right: his current demeanor was a complete result of the decision he made. That did not mean that Kris was not wrong at the same time. Jason reaches into the front pocket of his jacket and pulls out an envelope. He slides it across the table and nods to his brother that it is okay to open it. Kris makes short work of the paper, pulling free a single plane ticket.

JASON: I can’t stop you from leaving here and coming to Las Vegas. If I was going to walk away from you, I would have done it by now. I know that every time you do this, you expect that I am going to just stop showing up. That’s not going to happen. There is no changing the fact that you are my brother. There is however, changing the fact that you are my tag team partner.

Kris puts the ticket on the table, but shakes his head. The small glimmer of hope that Kris had in his eye when he opened the envelope is gone, and replaced with complete confusion.

KRIS: I don’t get it. Why would I want to fly out there if you were done? You going to replace me? You going to get Parker to show up with you or something?

The last bit comes out with a little more disgust than Kris wanted. It was only in moments like these that Jason ever got to see that touch of jealousy rise to the surface.

JASON: That is your ticket, but whether you go there to compete, or ask for your release is up to you, because I have a handful of conditions on being your tag team partner for longer than this conversation lasts.

The confusion shifts quickly to annoyance. Jason watches his brother’s lips tighten, and he grinds his teeth together. The rise in his blood pressure flushes his cheeks, but he tries hard to swallow the anger and keep it under control. His tone does not come out as smooth as he hoped it would, and more of a sarcastic whisper than anything else.

KRIS: More conditions… there’s always something.

Jason smacks the table hard, and it jolts Kris in his seat. He straightens up, and the look on his face is wiped away in an instant. At this point in his life, Kris was only truly afraid of one person, and it was his brother in this state of mind.

JASON: Yes. There is always something. There is always something because no matter what anyone does, you always end up back in this fucking place. So every time we pile on more and more conditions. We take away more and more of your leash, and hope that we can keep an eye on you. Yet, every time you fuck it all up.

Kris averts his eyes, looking at the view off of the balcony. He never knew exactly what being in this place cost his brother, but over the years it had to be more than anyone would say Kris’ life was worth. He had the opportunities to find out, or to look it up thousands of times, but never did. He was afraid to put a numerical value on his burden to his family. The cost of the rehab would have just been a good starting point anyways, and was probably still a big enough number to make him nauseous.

KRIS: I’ll do it. I don’t even care what it is.

It was that same tone of defeat that Jason heard in Canada when he found him the morning after his binge. Kris was not going to give his brother the pleasure of admitting he was wrong, at least not in this moment. He was not going to make himself more vulnerable to attack than he already was. His statement was a declaration that he was still dedicated to Jet City, and really nothing more than that.

JASON: Two groups. Outpatient. Everyday that we don’t have a show until I say you can stop.

Kris thinks it over for a moment, doing the math in his head for how long he thought his brother would hold to it. It doesn’t look good for his immediate future, but he nods silently.

JASON: We leave, compete, and come back all on the same day, on the same flight.

This one is a little more difficult to stomach. At least during the week, and between groups, he would be able to be on his own time. Even though Jason was stopping short of saying it, what he was demanding now was that Kris never leave his line of sight while they were traveling. It meant sharing a hotel room, eating every meal together, and probably an allotted amount of time he could spend hiding in a bathroom. It was the loss of his freedom. It takes longer than the first time, but slowly he nods again.

JASON: You sell the apartment, sign over all your duties at the clinic to Dr. Watkins, and you and Heather move to Seattle permanently. All of your groups have already been scouted and picked by me. You follow the schedule, we get to keep doing this.

Kris’ jaw falls open, and he tries to push out any thought or phrase that would show not only his disagreement, but the degree to which his brain was telling him to do so. He begged himself to spit out objections laced with curses, but no words came. After a few moments he fights his mouth to close, and grinds his teeth all the way through a third nod.

KRIS: Is that it?

Jason’s face softens a little, which makes the younger half of Jet City nervous. Every second of the conversation had been a challenge so far, but now Kris’ older brother appeared to feel bad about whatever it is that he was going to say.

JASON: There’s one more thing and you’re not gonna like it.

His brother had softened, so the sarcastic nature of Kris’ personality is given a little breathing room.

KRIS: Well that’s a healthy change from everything else...

Jason does not give his brother the satisfaction of a laugh, chuckle, or smile. Not even the smirk that made him famous creeps onto his face.

JASON: Win or lose, at the next Climax Control, your opponent is going to be me. If we keep the titles, then you can chalk it up to catching the beating that you deserve for putting everyone through this. If we lose, then consider it me picking my opponent for my final match.

For the first time in the conversation, despite the numerous jabs, Kris is offended. His chest tightens, and he winces like he is in physical pain at the thought.

KRIS: You would really leave if we lose this? That would be it?

The tone of his voice made both questions come out in an undeniably genuine nature. It was a clearly giveaway that Jason’s leaving would impact Kris in a real way. That was the whole point of the gambit. It was the same as the paper that Violet made him sign. Jason was forcing Kris to either step up, or lose everything.

JASON: From where I am sitting, if we lose, there’s nothing worth sticking around for. I showed up to be your partner. Look around… clearly you don’t know what all that entails. This doesn’t work for me. You want out, and you’re going to get out regardless of what I want. In all honesty, you are going to keep touring and falling into the same loop regardless of what I do. What I am telling you, is that if you cannot pull yourself together long enough for Jet City to prove that they are not one hit wonders, then I’m walking away before you drag my name, and my legacy, down to your level. Being a sloppy addict’s tag partner is not how I want to be remembered. If you can’t win this match, then that’s all I am. If that’s all I am, then I want my last match to be breaking that image.

Kris drops his eyes to the table, and is again at a loss for words. However, this time there is no nod to go with his lack of communication. At the same time, he does not shake his head to disagree either. Jason can see him struggling with it, but does not want to push him towards a decision. Instead of waiting, he stands up from the table, and straightens his jacket.

JASON: You don’t have to decide right now, but we do have a timetable here. People are asking where you are, and they need to see Jet City back on the same page by the end of the day. I didn’t come alone today. Heather followed me over in your car. I told her she wasn’t allowed to listen in on this conversation, but that I was going to be in here for a few minutes, and then I would be leaving. From the moment I leave, she is waiting twenty minutes for your answer. You can pack up your things and move forward, or you can stay here and sulk. I’m not going to hold your hand while you figure it out though.

Jason waits for a moment, and Kris finally looks up at him. The younger of the two brother’s nods, not agreeing to the terms Jason laid out, but to the timetable that he was given to make a decision. Without lingering longer than needed, Jason turns and pulls open the door to the facility, leaving Kris alone to process it all on his own.




======================================================

ON-CAMERA
LAS VEGAS, CALIFORNIA
SCW AREANA
9:17 PM PST 1.20.17

The scene opens on the SCW ring. It is a view from the hard camera that viewers at home will become familiar with on Sunday night. Standing in the center of the ring, already dressed for battle and strapped around the waist with the SCW Tag Team Championships. Of course, as seen last time Jet City blessed SCW with their presence, the title belts are inverted, making them impossible to be read by the crowd. However, if either brother were to tilt the championship up, while looking down at it, it appears right-side up. They both have smiles on their faces, and fans have seen this type of setup before. Where they stand, they are almost shoulder to shoulder, with no space in between. However, those that remember their match against The Elders, there is a very large, flat screen monitor just behind them, cut off from view.

JASON: The Unholy Alliance should renamed themselves the Wholly Disappointments. We have laid off, played nice, kicked back, and let them say whatever it is that they have wanted to say.

Jason’s very subtle pause is all that it takes for Kris to pick right up where he leaves off to drive home the point that his brother was trying to make
.[/color]

KRIS: We learned a lesson the first time around. We just talked and talked all week long and it was was all a waste of time and energy. Neither of them really engaged. Neither would take place in shenanigans. For a little while, it didn’t make any sense at all. You have these two guys, that have lost to another tag team that have not gotten the opportunity to challenge us, gotten a match against us that the didn’t win, and don’t have the best track records when gold is on the line as of late.

They both shake their heads as Kris finishes, and make shaming ‘tsk’ sounds. It is all obvious sarcasm, but punchlines do not land without solid build up. Right now these two were just putting in the leg work.


JASON: We wasted a lot of really good material to the tune of crickets. Nothing riled these guys, but we didn’t have to wait long to find out why….

The two separate, and reveal the screen behind them. At first, all it displays is the Jet City logo. However, as they both turn to it, it comes to life with a clip from three weeks ago. On the screen, the Jet City theme plays loudly as both Jason and Kris come out to the ring for their match. Kris slides into the ring while Jason climbs the stairs, and steps through the ropes only for both of them to be attacked by The Unholy Alliance. The video continues to play through the first few shots that the challengers to the tag team champions throw, all the way to both challengers throwing the champions outside of the ring. Without pausing the film, Kris chimes in.

KRIS: And if you would be so kind as to listen…..

Just as Kris finishes, through the video the viewers can hear the bell chime three times to signal the start of the match perfectly on cue. It is only at that point that the video is paused. In doing so, the champions leave a less-than-flattering frame of James Tuscini frozen on the screen.

KRIS: I can’t believe my eyes, Jason. I am appalled. I feel cheated. I feel used. I feel downright taken advantage of.

Jason looks at Kris, not buying what he is selling, and shakes his head.

JASON: And by all that you mean you wish we would have come out to the ring first so that we could have done it to them because it was a genius plan?

Kris hangs his head and mock defeat, raising his hands up to shield his face while feigning the sound of sobbing. In jest, he refuses to verbally agree or disagree, merely nodding his head. Jason steps over and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder before offering him some reassuring words.

JASON: It’s okay Kris. We can’t be on top of everything all the time. Would it make you feel better if it only took them two weeks to prove that they are actually fucking idiots?

Kris drops his hands from his face, and snaps his head up fast enough to give himself whiplash. Miraculously, his mood improves, and expression changes. Kris looks hopeful, for some kind of saving grace.

KRIS: Did we at least get that part on tape too?

Jason’s positive and comforting demeanor does not change, but he takes his hand off of Kris’ shoulder and motions back towards the screen. As he does, the still shot of James disappears and after a few moments it comes to life with something the fans saw just a week ago.

JASON: Better yet, we didn’t have to. They did it all for us.

KRIS: How nice of them…

The video starts from the middle of James Tuscini’s promo from the previous week. However, before he actually speaks, Jason pauses the video again. James is in the middle of starting to talk where the video gets pauses, leading to another mouth-open, borderline mentally deficient freeze frame of the man. The older brother of Jet City turns to the camera to give a slight disclaimer.

JASON: Kids, when you make false claims, don’t leave a paper trail. Don’t document it or record it for posterity, because if you do, Jet City will find it, and Jet City will use you, to make you look stupid.

Kris dips over in front of Jason in the frame to move his finger the the same motion as the NBC stars that appear at the end of their public service announcements.

KRIS: The more you know!

Jason presses play again, but only for a moment. It is a single line from James that he wants to pick out for the fans to hear, given all that has been said so far.

JAMES: To start off with lowlights the main one is Jet City, Kris and Jason Halc, making the false claim that Unholy Alliance attacked them before the match, then we deliberately took the match action outside the ring to deliberately obtain a count-out draw…

They stop the video again, and this time it cuts back to the Jet City logo entirely. The camera pulls back from the monitor to show both members of Jet City in the frame again. In true Home Alone fashion, they both have their hands clasped to their cheeks, with their mouths hung wide open in silent screams. Their eyes are wide with fake shock and surprise. Jason is the first to break from it though, turning to Kris with an explanation.

JASON: Maybe he just forgot what happened Kris. I mean maybe it was a mistake. Things happen like that all the time. It had been two weeks at the time….

The only response that Jason gets is just a disappointed and judgemental shake of Kris’ head. He is actually able to summon a genuine looking frown to his face.

JASON: Not buying it?

The question snaps Kris out of it, and the smile returns to his face, launching into a full on attack on their opponents.

KRIS: I don’t think so Jay, and here is why: That promo was littered with shit that didn’t make sense, and false claims with no basis in reality. I mean, we just showed the fine people of the SCW fanbase exactly how our match with the Unholy Alliance started. They attacked us, clearly before the bell, and then threw us outside the ring. If we would have played more, we would have seen them tossing us into the crowd and doing anything that they could to keep us away from that ring. It may have made me a little jealous that I didn’t think to jump them before they jumped us, but there is a singular reason why they would do something like that. We have laid it out before, but now since the proof is in the proverbial pudding, you would care to refresh the fans on exactly why this match is happening.

Turning back to face the camera, displaying a true ability to work together and not talk step on each other’s toes, the second that Kris finishes, Jason picks up the slack. It works to Jet City’s advantage though, because flying solo, most people will pause to gather their thoughts. Jet City switching off so fluidly creates one unbroken narrative.

JASON: The Unholy Alliance came down to that ring with one thing in mind, and that was getting the match that they got handed to them at Inception II. As much as they might want to talk about the fact that we didn’t deserve the title shot that we got, they did almost as little to get theirs. In the very simplest of terms, The Unholy Alliance knew they couldn’t beat us. They knew that after a loss to The Monstimals, a loss to us would have put them at the back of the line, and they were taking that chance without the titles even being up for grabs. Their only chance to challenge us was to invalidate that match, and then make a stink backstage until management noticed and came up with the plan to make money off of the heat. Now, we at Jet City may not be opposed to breaking the rules, but at least we have the balls to be able to admit that.

Jason stops abruptly to put emphasis on his last statement, but Kris does not let it sit without piling on.

KRIS: Every word that the two of you spewed out to the public a week ago had one thing in common: it was all part of some kind of fucking fantasy that you two live in. You very clearly misrepresented the happenings of our match, so it kind of makes everything that you say after that invalid. You can’t blatantly lie against video evidence, and then expect us to put any stock into your claims, can you? Is that how you think that this works? How can we take seriously that you are going to take our titles, embarrass us, or prove that we were fluke champions that arose out of a situation where there were no other viable challengers? That is the problem with building your argument on a lie, the foundation of it crumbles under the slightest scrutiny.

Jason again places his hand on Kris’ shoulder, which stops him from talking even though everyone watching can clearly tell that he has more to say. He bites his tongue though, and Jason steps up from the center of the ring, moving closer to the ropes and therefore the camera.

JASON: We at Jet City, would have applauded you for what you did. In fact, we did so, publicly, the same night that you two were gifted this matchup. You saw a situation that was a total loss, and setback for your team if you went at it straight-up, so you improvised to get what you wanted. Then you have to go and ruin it all by refusing to take responsibility for it. Overnight you made yourselves formidable people, worth playing our games with, and then the very next day you were right back to being the disappointment we thought you were at the beginning of Climax Control 168. We thought, momentarily, that despite the loss to The Monstimals, that maybe we would at least get an intellectual battle heading into Inception II.

Kris comes up to stand next to his brother and rests his forearms on the top rope, leaning over it.

KRIS: Instead we got our hopes up only to realize that neither of you are anything special. You had a plan, but your follow-through was garbage. You had us on the ropes at first, only to go silent and lose the advantage. You wouldn’t have gone the route that you did in that match if you thought that you could legitimately beat us, and you were even too afraid to own up to that very clear fact. What hope do you have of beating us with no count outs and no disqualifications? You gained an advantage last time by bending the rules before we could. You got this match by forcing a count-out situation. Newflash, this time there are no rules. This time you can’t push a count-out to get another chance down the road. This time, before you come down to the ring, one of you better make a phone call to one of the many fine hospitals in the Las Vegas area.

Jason looks over to Kris, faking total confusion, even though everyone already knew what was coming.

JASON: Why would they need to call a hospital?

Kris shrugs, completely taken off guard by Jason’s inquiry.

KRIS: …. Because that is where they keep the ambulances…

Jason, still playing dumb, shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, still not putting two and two together.

JASON: Why do they need an ambulance?

A smile crosses Kris’ face that goes from almost ear to ear. He mimics his brother and claps a hand onto his shoulder. The tone of his voice is joyous, and almost singsong.

KRIS: ….because without a shadow of a doubt, there’s gonna be an ACCIDENT!

The two turn back to the camera, and share an eerily identical shrug.

KRIS: Jet.

JASON: City.

BOTH: OUT!

With that the video cuts off to the Jet City logo, and then to black.

66
Supercard Archives / Jet City Vs The Unholy Alliance
« on: January 10, 2017, 05:54:15 PM »
 
Off-Camera
9 January 2017 2:06 PM
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time...
‘Til touchdown brings back ‘round again to find...
I’m not the man they think I am at home...
Oh no, no, no…


”He may as well have tweeted out the lyrics to A Song To Say Goodbye like he did last time. It was every bit the same warning sign. Almost immediately, the whole picture snapped together. He wasn’t himself when he said that we were not needed at Climax Control. He went all the way to Canada to see a show from a company he could not possibly sign a contract with. He took someone dying to get back into the ring as a chaperone, so he could slip away instead of sitting in on the negotiations. It was not random in any way, shape or form, and I should have seen it coming. Come to think of it, I did see it coming. As guilty as he was, I have been lying to his face, to everyone on Twitter, for months. I cannot help but think if maybe I had gone a different route, I would not be sitting here.”

Light shines through the crack between the curtains. On the bed, sprawled out under the strewn around covers is the younger brother of Jet City. The scene inside the room is not like anything seen the day after some rockstar plays a big show in any movie, albeit without the naked girls passed out in uncomfortable, yet revealing positions. That much was actually a relief for Jason. Across the trashed room, sitting on top of a dresser filled with debris, is the older half of the SCW Tag Team Champions. He had been there for hours. He could have woken Kris up for a conversation that he would not have remembered. He could have dragged him off of the bed and into the shower like he had done so many times before. Kris could have been on a plane back to Los Angeles, back to Promises, again. The real reason that he not done so already, was because the older brother was contemplating being completely done with this process, and maybe a little guilty over it. Any moment though, Kris was going to wake up. It would be slow at first. Probably tossing back and forth for a few minutes as the sickness started to kick in and the effects started to wear off. The need will snap his eyes open. At that point, what he did last night will run through his head, and the guilt will set in. The panic of what would happen if everyone found out will take hold. Almost as quickly as that hits though, it will be gone, because the need will overcome him. It will motivate him to sit up, survey the damage of the room, and then decide he was too deep into it now. He would throw on the nearest clothes and be out the door looking for more. Under any other circumstance, this process would last a few days in complete silence. In the past there was nobody at home that would worry. There was no wife. There were no kids. Things were different, and that is the thought that would strike him as soon as he sat up in that bed.

Almost as if on cue, Kris rolls over in the bed, and both of his hands raise to his head. He brushes the matted hair away from his eyes, and scrubs at them like they are on fire and his fingers are water. His left hand falls from his face though, reaching down and tracing along the inside of his arm.

DENIAL.

Kris’ left hand falls from his face though, reaching down and tracing along the inside of his arm. His fingers find what he already knows to be there, and the reaction is not pleasant. He raises his foot up into the air, and then drops it down hard on the bed.

ANGER.

It was a childlike temper tantrum that he would be extremely embarrassed that anyone saw, under any other circumstance. Jason pulls his eyes from the crack in the curtain, and focuses on his brother, even though it was painful to do so. He wishes for a moment that they could trade eyes. From the way that Kris was raking at his own, they were exceptionally dry. Jason’s were glassy. Not to the point of producing tears, but slowly closing in on that threshold. Kris lowers his hands from his face, and smacks both hands down at his side, grabbing a handful of the bed sheets and squeezing with all of his strength. The disappointment in himself oozed out of him and all the way across the room to his older brother. However, moments passed, and the white-knuckled grip he has on the bed sheets fades away. He snaps up, and his eyes dart back and forth across the room. At first they skip over the man sitting in front of him in the shadows. They are looking for anything leftover from last night. It is only after they do not find what they are looking for that they freeze, wide, and panicked. For more than a few seconds, he forgets to breathe. Kris opens and closes his mouth several times, before his eyes start to fill, the dryness suddenly washed away. He raises his hands to cover his face, and shakes his head back and forth. If history taught him anything, he knew what was coming.

BARGAINING.

Kris: No, no, no, no, no, no, no…. No. Please don’t make me go back. I don’t want to go back again. I can’t go back again…. Please don’t make me.

He brushes at his eyes and and lowers his fingers to be beneath them, still covering his cheeks. Jason says nothing. The cold stare frozen on him. He does not blink. He does not let his face show the pain, or pity. He was going to allow his younger brother to go through the whole process on his own. When Jason did not threaten rehab, his mind would move on to the next thing, and the next. The punishment for his slip was not going to be anything that Jason said in this moment. It was going to be his own internal torment, that he undoubtedly had earned. When it snaps together that Jason was not going to fight him, his mind wanders, and the fear in his eyes turns to terror across the entirety of his face.

Kris: Heather….

It came out as a whispered statement, but Jason knew that it was more of a question. Had he told his wife? Even if he had not told her, did she know? Was she the reason that Jason was sitting in the room in front of him? Her name brings up other feelings though. The fact that she was pregnant with their daughter. The fact that Liz would almost assuredly pull his custody of their son. The entire life he had built, and all of the relationships he repaired would be in shambles. If the person in front of him pulled the plug, he would also be done professionally. Though that was the very least significant of all of the problems he runs through. He searches Jason for an answer, that is simply not there, no matter how badly he wants it to be. Kris gives up, and hunches forward, lowering his head.

DEPRESSION.

Kris: We’re done aren’t we. That’s why you’re here. It’s all over. Jet City. Heather. KJ. My life. Everything.

Jason does not look away, and waits for the bout of self-pity to be over. It was a guilt trip that Kris was reaching for. A subconscious plea for Jason to forget what he saw, even as he was seeing it, without daring to say those words. Jason licks his lips, and then presses them hard together. He moderates his breath, so not to catch Kris’ attention with the sound of it, and then exhales through his nose. He waits, silently until his brother’s head raises. This time his eyes do not dart around the room. There is no desperate plea. This time he is actually waiting for a response, because nothing that Jason can say can hurt more than what is kicking around in his head. At this point, a lecture is a relief. Anyone that has been an addict knows that relief is the only thing that they search for in the morning. He does not get the lecture he longs for, the one that makes him know his brother still cares enough to raise his voice. Instead what he gets is a single, emotionless word.

Jason: Why?

He had heard and studied every excuse Kris had made in the long eleven years that they had done this dance. He knew the inflection in his voice when he was lying. He knew how to see through the circle talk. He knew when the questions he asked were not answered with the full truth. There was no escape. It was meant to be prolonged agony via self-exploration.

Kris: It just kind of ha--

Jason holds up his hand, and shakes his head. The words immediately stop without another syllable.

Jason: Try again.

Kris looks down, his right hand curling into a fist. He brings his left hand up to his forehead, scratching at it before looking back up.

Kris: It’s not as easy as I thought it would be. I --

Again, Jason holds up a hand and shakes his head. He was not going to buy anything short of the exact thought that was running through his mind the moment that he broke down and threw away fifteen months of hard work.

Jason: I don’t have all day.

He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, and turns on the screen without looking down at it. His thumb hovers above the screen. Kris’ eyes dart down to it, the panic even more real. Any number that he dialed was going to be bad. However, there was a definite hierarchy of bad to unbearable. He opens his mouth a few times, shaking his head and trying to force the right answer.

Kris: I’m useless without it.

Kris’ eyes do not stray from the phone, and relief washes over his face when Jason clicks it off. He drops it on the dresser, and holds out his hand, rolling his index finger horizontally. It was a good start, but there was more that Kris was not saying, and now was the time to get it all out in the open.

Kris: Heather…. KJ…. The baby that’s not here yet…. Violet…. You… Jet City… SCW… KCW…. I can’t do it. I can’t be that person. One day, people are going to realize that I’m not the lie that I am selling. I am going to lose them all one at a time. I can see it on your face that you think the same thing. SCW shouldn’t even be on that list… they’ve already given up on me.

Jason laces his fingers together and rests them on his lap, leaning back against the wall behind the dresser. His eyebrows raise, but his eyes narrow. Most everything in the confession was to be expected. Jason was on board with all of it except the last bit. It was the part of the story that Kris did not know, so he was curious to see what his drug induced mind had filled in that blank with.

Jason: Why do you think they have given up on you?

There was a softness in his tone, and curiosity on his face that Kris picked up on immediately. At the moment, he would welcome any change to the stoney, colorless monotone he had gotten since regaining consciousness. This would typically be the time that Kris would devolve into bullshit. However, his current company was much smarter than he was, which made doing so pointless. Instead, he deflates a little further, and pushes himself away to lean against the headboard of the bed.

Kris: They only took me back because you were part of the package. They clearly don’t trust me if the refuse to even sanction us being on the show for a reason. All they let us do is fuck around backstage. When they do put us out there, we’re the punchline of the announce team. They don’t want us around, and they only let it happened because people know your name.

Jason nods and swallows hard. He turns his head, looking back at the crack in the curtains. On so many occasions, he had simply ripped opened the curtains and immediately started in on his brother while he was still out. On at least a couple of those, his brother had not woken up before he was out of breath, and without the willpower to be angry anymore. Kris picked up the deflection without missing a beat though. It was guilt that forced him to look away. Not the kind of guilt that comes from having your brother living in your shadow, but the kind of guilt that comes from actually doing something. The kind of guilt that Kris felt himself. The only question was, why? His eyes narrow, and he decides to go on offense.

Kris: What do you know that I don’t?

Jason takes another deep breath and brings both his hands up to run through his hair before choosing to finally let slip what needed to be said.

Jason: You’re right, but you’re also wrong. I told them that we needed to take it slow, all things considered. When they booked the Elders match, I went to them. I told them that we could do it, but it meant putting you on a short leash. Heather and I...

It was all starting to piece together for Kris. As soon as he said his wife’s name the whole picture was clear. He felt ridiculous that did not see it beforehand, but was so confident at how the story went that he could finish the confession for his brother. He had walked in on the tail end of Jason’s conversation with Heather, and knew his brother well enough to know what he would do.

Kris: ….in the kitchen, before High Stakes. You two were talking, and you said it was about an affair because there was no way I got more offended by that than I would have you talking about this. She was worried, so you taunted her until she spilled it. You promised to keep an eye on me, but it wasn’t enough….”

He pauses, and then makes a slight edit to his words.

Kris: Well, it was enough for her, but not for you. She’s trusting, and she’s only seen this twice. You knew that you couldn’t handle it by yourself.

He pauses to chuckle lightly. It made so much sense. Christian and Mark had never acted like this towards him before. They knew he had problems, but there was never an issue as long as he was on the straight and narrow.

Kris: You’ve always kept an eye on me, but we have had this conversation a few dozen times anyways. So you went to management and told them that we would do the title match, but they needed to lay off of me. They needed to let me come to terms with the stress of being back on tour, traveling, being away from my safety net and my routine. We couldn’t be in the middle of the ring every week because it would all be too much and I would backslide. You did this....

The last comment forces Jason’s eyes back across the room to his brother. There is a fire in them that has been anything-but-inconspicuously absent. Kris holds up both hands and backtracks quickly.

Kris: Okay, that was a little far. You played a part though. It’s because of what you did that caused us to be the punchline. It was your trying to protect me that threw me out to the wolves. Everything that anyone has said about us being a joke, or protected, was because of what you did.

After rephrasing, there was no more backpedaling. His voice raises with each word until he is practically yelling by the time he finishes. He is breathing heavily, and pushes the blankets to the side, raising out of the bed. He crosses the room, coming to the end of the bed, two feet from his brother, and levels his index finger at him.

Kris: You may not have done the whole thing, but you tipped the balance. You stacked the deck against me. It was only a matter of time before this happened.

Jason pushes himself off of the dresser, looking at the floor of the hotel room. He crosses the small distance between them, and puts his hand on his brother’s shoulder. For a moment, Kris thinks he has won, but that split second is gone almost as soon as the thought pops back into his mind. Jason raises his lowered arm so quickly Kris’ current reflexes are no match to stop it. He catches a forearm in the throat as Jason’s other hand wrenches on his shoulder, turning Kris so his back is against the wall alongside the bed. Using his forearm at his brother’s throat, and no other driving force, Jason pushes forward, slamming his brother against the wall and applying pressure to cut off his air supply. He leans in, his voice barely above a whisper, but nowhere in the vicinity of calm.

Jason: You are going to go take a shower while I clean this place up. We are then going to the airport, directly back to LA where you are going to tell your wife everything, and hope to God that she doesn’t boot you out of your own apartment. Then, and only then, are the three of us going to sit down and talk about whether or not you’re going to be allowed to continue being on the road or if you’re headed back to rehab for as long as I can legally keep you there.

He backs his forearm off of Kris’ throat long enough for him to draw a couple of breaths. He pulls his head back to study his eyes, and Kris gives a silent nod of agreement. He knew better than to attempt to talk.

Jason: Either way, you had better come up with exactly what it is you plan to tell your wife, who is probably already pissed off at you for having the audacity to shamelessly flirt with a girl previously involved with Kaden. A girl that you played a role in fucking up a friendship with Kaden. That’s too close to home, and you know it.

Jason offers his brother a cheap smile, and Kris’ eyes fall away. He adds a second nod, knowing that he was definitely over the line there. However, just when Kris was getting used to breathing again, and thought that the worst was over, Jason leans in tighter than before, to the threshold of breaking his brother’s larynx. His voice is more hostile than anything Kris had ever heard directed at him, and it draws memories of their childhood to the forefront of his mind.

Jason: And the next time you ever blame me for one of your fuck ups, there will not be a time after next, because you’ll be in a wheelchair eating through a straw for the rest of your life, with nobody around you willing to shoot you up. Do you understand?

ACCEPTANCE.

Unable to move his head, Kris tracks his eyes from Jason’s forehead, down to his chin, and then back again, nodding with them instead of his head. He blinks twice, and Jason lowers his arm, and backs away, straightening his jacket. He rolls his shoulders, easing the tension,  and then pats his younger brother on the shoulder.

Jason: Get moving…. And get to praying that Heather can handle this better than me.

Kris does not open his mouth, but nods. He offers his brother a smile that he has to summon every ounce of strength to force onto his face. Without a retort, he slides down the wall, past his brother, and then disappears into the bathroom. Jason turns to the room, accessing the damage in his head before starting to do his best to clean it up.



============================
============================




On-Camera

The scene opens on Jason Halich standing outside. The camera pans around him to show a vineyard, and a house that long term SCW fans recognize as familiar but cannot quite place at first. The thing that snaps it all together, is the red hoodie that Jason has zipped all the way up to his chin. The hood of it is pulled up over his head, and his hands are buried in the front pockets.

"As you can see, I am all alone today. It seemed kind of fitting that I come here, being that this was the place where it all started for Kris. I figure if he could not be here in person, he could be here in spirit."

He smiles genuinely, and lets out a slight chuckle. In the pause though, he raises a hand to calm the fans with objections to his assertion.

"Before you all get up in arms, I know very well that Kris' first promos for this company were not from this spot. I also know when he popped up, he was never dressed like this. To the people that choose to point that out, I choose to point out this fact: before Kris donned this outfit, became a Nobody, and started cutting promos from this very spot, he was nothing in this company. He was a guy that went on losing streaks for months before disappearing. Only to reappear later, lose some more matches, and disappear again. It was from this spot that he drew a line in the stand and declared that he was tired of being in my shadow. He embraced being a Nobody. He was done playing by the rules that others made up. It was right here, that his run to the SCW Internet Championship began. This was the beginning."

He starts to walk, and the camera pauses for a few steps before following at his side. The vineyard behind him is kind of bare. It was a down season, and everything had already been harvested.

"People have been led to believe that I am something more than I am. I have heard my brother talk about me from the first time that he stepped into a ring. I have seen the comments that people made to him about me time and time again. For four long years, I have been absolutely silent about it. The fact of the matter is, he didn't need me fighting his battles, and by jumping in, I would have only made the situation worse. He needed to push through it on his own, and cut his own path. Today, the differences between the way we handle things are pretty noticeable. We get up to some pretty outlandish things, and set up punchlines for each other when we are together, but the ones of you that follow us on Twitter or talk to us separately know that we are very different people. I sat back, because I wanted my brother to come into his own without my guiding hand. In doing so, I got to watch him become his own man, and most days I find myself being insanely proud of that person, despite how many of you hate him."

Jason continues to walk, turning a slight curve with the road. The scene behind them changes a little with the turn, as the space between the fields are filled with small bushes, trees, and flowers that are all neatly landscaped.

"I sat back for so long, and I let the kid grow into someone that could hold his own on a microphone and in petty arguments all on his own. He could always handle himself in a ring. We made sure of that from the very beginning. What people don't know is that this whole lifestyle was his idea, and his dream. However, his path had to go somewhere different first, and so I carried on as a way to make sure his dream didn't die. All of that changed when Jet City was born though. Since we were together, the protectiveness that I had for him as a person bled over into professional matters. What I am realizing now is that he didn't need me to do so, and never did."

He shrugs, and reluctantly accepts responsibility for something that he had been denying for months.

"The reason that you have not seen Jet City as much as all of you thought that you would, is because of me. I didn't think that the kid could handle being sober, part of a family, and traveling at the same time. To be fair, he has proven that he couldn't handle that over and over again in the past. I didn't trust that he could balance it all, so I told everyone in a position of power in SCW that he needed to take it easy. We got the title match, and we won. I was just as surprised as everyone of you were, but I was also terrified of what it meant. That's where I fucked that up and shorted all of you as a champion. I betrayed the trust of my tag team partner by treating him like he was my kid brother."

He stops, and the camera moves around him before stopping in front of him.

"Starting now, all of that changes. If we're going to move forward in SCW, it is going to be as equals, not as me babysitting someone I look at as a child. If we are going to beat Dmitri and James, I can't be looking over my shoulder the whole time to make sure that he is okay. I can't be running to management and telling them to take it easy. I can't be fighting his battles. For the first time since the start of Jet City, I need to take a step back and let the kid do his thing the way that he always has in SCW. The fact is, he was a champion here long before I came into the picture. He learned how to do this shit without me, and I have to keep letting him do that. I need to take the kid off of his leash, and let him go after that redemption that he came back to find. For Kris, this was about coming back to a company that never did him wrong, and making up for everything he pissed away. For me, this was about crossing off the last thing on my list that I needed to do before I could retire happy. Kris is on the rise, and for as long as he carries me through holding these titles, I am going to do everything I can to enjoy the ride. When the curtains close on Jet City, they close on me, and I take my final bow. I get to do that because of the talent, hard work, and skill that he has. The truth of the matter is, I never could have done this without him."

He looks down, and then pulls the zipper on the hoodie down, before shrugging it off of his shoulders and throwing it off camera.

"I'm not a Nobody. That was his path. Honestly, I am a little jealous that I wasn't involved with it, because he went from a kid that was overlooked, to one that was main eventing Climax Control with a Hall of Famer like Goth. Like I said, this dream was his, and that was probably the closest he has gotten to being on top of the world. On the other hand, that night, nor the night of Inception II is a peak, or ending, for Kris, it is just a chapter in the middle of the book. The Unholy Alliance is going to tell you that it all ends in two weeks. They are going to tell you that we didn't earn these titles, and that we have done nothing worth allowing us to keep them a second longer. They will promise victory, and discount everything that has happened since October. My only hope is that they watch this video before they do, so that they know that the blame rests solely on my shoulders. I also hope, that after they realize that, they come to the one conclusion that matters."

He smirks.

As Jet City, we haven't lost. Whether here, or either of the other places we signed. As of today, I am letting Kris off of the leash to do things the way that he has done for his whole career. That should scare both of the people in this match that don't call themselves Jet City, because it means Kris gets to be the guy that beat Goth. That beat Kain. That skyrocketed so fast that he went from a punchline to a champion in a matter of a couple of months. The guy that turned a losing streak that lasted months into a winning streak that took him to the Internet Championship. I am proud of my little brother, and all of you should be too. Unless you are on the opposite side of the ring from us. Then you should just be scared."

Jason smiles, taking a few steps towards the camera and raising his arm in stereotypical Kris fashion and putting it over the lens of the camera, killing the feed.

67
Climax Control Archives / New Jet City
« on: December 30, 2016, 09:06:58 PM »
 December 30, 2016
Seattle, Washington
[OFF-CAMERA]

When Jessica landed in Seattle, she walked off the plane swaying her hips effortlessly in her skin tight jeans and much too revealing top. She wanted to make an entrance. But as she looked around through the sea of people, she noticed that Jason wasn't watching. He had his back to her as he was talking to someone. Probably a fan or something. As she made her way over there, Jessica spoke when she got close enough.

Jessica: "Hope I'm not interrupting anything...."

Jason spins around, handing off whatever the fan had given him and asked him to sign without another word to the person. As he turns, his eyes drop down her body, and then come all the way back up to meet her eyes.

Jason: “You are more impressive looking in person than you are in all of those pictures that you are always posting.”

He offers her a wide smile.

Jason: “Hopefully you were not expecting me to be anything like my idiot brother. He told me you guys worked together a little. Something about hitting you in the face. Nobody ever accused him of being smart.”

Jessica: "Your brother's alright."

She said it with a laugh, but Jason knew that she thought more highly of him than that. The two of them had never met before, so she was essentially coming out to talk to Jason based on her opinion of his brother.  

Jessica: "He did his best to make it up to me by getting me drunk afterwards."

It was funny. Jason had heard about that exchange, but knew it as a very different story from the one that Jessica probably thought she knew. That was not a conversation for this meeting though. He would only push her away by telling her the truth, and that was the last thing that he wanted.

Jason: "Sounds like something he'd do."

Jason laughs, trying to make it sound genuine.

Jessica: "Is that so?"

Jessica questioned as she tilted her head to the side. She could tell that he was not being completely open with her, but could not put her finger on exactly what the issue was.

Jessica: "He might have told me a bit about you that night. Not that I remember. As I said, I was pretty drunk. So maybe, you can refresh my memory."

He laughs, and they start to walk to the baggage claim area of the airport.

Jason: “I imagine that anything he said about me would be less than positive. For the most part we don’t get along. We got our shit together to win the SCW Tag Team Championships though. He likes to tell people that I am less fun than he is, but that is because half of the things that he thinks are fun involve making people uncomfortable, or whipping his dick out in public. He is a strange guy.”

She, herself, thought Kris was a pretty cool dude. But then again, he could have been just trying to impress her. It was their first night out, after all. Jessica thought about what Jason said for a moment, then asked.

Jessica: "So what makes you less strange?"

She listened for his answer as she waited for her luggage to come around.

Jason: “I have a little more restraint is all, and just a shitload more common sense.”

When her bag got to her, she reaches out to get it, but he stops her, and pulls it off of the carousel himself, extending the handle and trailing it behind him as they walked towards the door exiting to the parking area.  

Jason: “Kris does nothing but run his mouth, get into trouble, and act without thinking. He is impulsive and reckless. Most importantly, deep down inside he only cares about one person, and everyone else can be damned.”

He shrugs as he finishes. It was a definition of his brother that he had given several dozen times before, albeit not being entirely true. Again though, this trip was about luring Jessica into the fold, so total, brutal honesty was not going to be the best way to go about doing that.

Jason: “He is not someone to trust. Not that he isn’t really fun to be around in small doses.”

Jessica: "Well, I only had drinks with him the one night. So I can't say one way or another for sure. But you obviously know him a lot better. So you might be right about that."

As they reached his car, Jessica watched as he went over and put her luggage in the trunk before coming back over and opening the passenger side door for her.

Jessica: "Quite the gentlemen. That's always nice to see."

Jason offers her a smile as she drops down into the seat, and he gently closes it once she is situated. He walked around what should have been the passenger side of the car after she gets in, and sits down in the driver’s seat. He looks over at her with a wide smile on his face.He pulls each strap of the seat belts over his shoulders, and snaps them together in front of his chest.

Jason: “I learned all on my own to treat ladies the right way, and they won’t flake out or be overly bitchy to you. Being that you flew all the way across the country to be here, I wouldn’t want to piss you off.”

This draws a light chuckle from her.

Jessica: "Keep treating me like this and I might not be in any hurry to leave."

Jessica hoped it came off more as a joke. She chuckled as she reached around for her own seatbelt. He lets her off the hook easily, choosing not to comment and instead starting the car. He backs out of the parking area, quickly following the exit ramps onto the highway, and speeding off towards his house.

Jason: “So why are you calling off all of your traveling just because one place closed?”

Jessica:"It's not like I'm against it. Just haven't found the right offer."

She shrugged her shoulders from her seat. It was almost exactly the thing that Jason wanted to hear.

Jessica: "If something comes along that is worth my while, I'll definitely go for it. However, it is nice to have some downtime. It allows me to do things like this. Come to Seattle on a whim."

The way she puts it makes it sound like a social call. Jason could work under that guise. It made segwaying into what he actually wanted much easier.

Jason: "I am glad you decided to come out. There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

They do not make it far away from  the airport before he pulls off of the highway, not quite outside the city. A few quick turns after they pull off, and they are sitting curbside in front of a sizable house. Jason stops in front of it, and taps at the security panel to open the gate and garage so they can pull in. He kills the engine on the car, and pops the trunk before stuffing the keys into his pocket.

Jason: “As promised, the hot tub on the back balcony from the second floor is already on and waiting in case you were interested.”

He pushes open his door, and shrugs his seatbelt aside before getting out. He moves around to her side of the car and opens her door for her, even going as far as to extend a hand to help her to her feet.

Jason: “Not that we have to use it at all. I mentioned it when you were thinking about coming out, so I thought I should make it ready.”

She laughs, but waves off his attempt at backtracking away from it.

Jessica: "I'm sure we'll be putting it to good use once I get settled in."

Jessica takes his hand to get out of the car, but he releases it as she stands so that he can move to the back of the car. He stops there briefly so he could grab her luggage.

Jessica: "...but how about a tour first."

Jason nodded as her lead the way inside. After entering from the garage, the first room they step into is an oversized kitchen that never gets used. The two make their way around the house, from the giant gym in the basement, to all of the handful of different guest rooms before finally coming to a living room on the second floor. Along the wall are giant bay windows that point out towards the city, giving it a beautiful view at night. There are no lights on the balcony attached, but on it sits a hot tub that is bubbling already. Jason had turned it on and uncovered it before heading to the airport. He opens one of the doors leading out to it before turning back to JJ, and motioning for her to follow.

Jason: “Last stop on the tour is the view.”

She gives him a once over before heading out the door he held open for her.

Jessica: "The view is lovely."

She made her way over and crouched down as she put her hand in the hot tub.

Jessica: "And that is nice and toasty."

He smiles, and looks back over into the living area. Her bag was positioned on the couch at the other end of the room.

Jason: “If you want to hop in, you can change in any of the guest rooms. It won’t really matter which one, someone else has to clean up the house, and I am indifferent.”

She seems to think it over for a second, before nodding.

Jessica: "Hmm, I might just have to do that, but…. you might want to change yourself as I'm not going in alone.”

With that, Jessica headed into the house to collect her bag before walking off for one of the guest rooms Jason had showed her along the way. He did not have to go so far, moving along the balcony to a set of cabinet drawers.He pulls two towels from it and places them close to the hot tub before removing his clothes, and stuffing them into the cabinet. He pulls shorts off of the top shelf, and slides them on before closing the cabinet up. He is already stepping into the hot tub by the time she returns. When Jessica walked back out onto the balcony, she was wearing one of her bikinis that left enough of herself exposed to catch a cold chill from stepping outside. To cure this, she moves quickly across the balcony, dipping her toes into the water before sliding all the way in.

Jessica: "So, I guess I should thank you for the invitation. Wasn't sure about all this at first. Still seems kind of sudden to me. But I'm glad I came."

He laughs.  

Jason: “I am glad that you decided to come out too. It was a lot easier than me trying to get out there, and…”

He gestures out at the view they have from the balcony.

Jason: “... it may not be the ocean or anything, but I think it is still pretty nice.”

Jessica: "....but now that you got me here, the real question is...why were you so intent on getting me to come out here?"

She finished her question with a little devilish look of curiosity. He offers her a shrug, not blowing her question off, but trying to figure out exactly what she was wanting from the evening before showing any hint of why he had asked her here.

Jason: “In very uncharacteristic fashion, I had not thought that far ahead. I thought we could get to know each other possibly. You are the guest here, I assume we are just going to talk about what you want to talk about, and do whatever it is that your heart desires doing. I am just a host trying to figure you out.”

Just because Jessica was a bit taken back by his answer doesn't mean she showed it.

Jessica: "Getting to know each other doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Most people would tell you I'm hard to deal with. But I don't think that's entirely true. Just got to know how to handle me. I think you'll do just fine as long as you give me an honest chance."

Jessica let that sink in for a moment before going on.

Jessica: "... but what would you like to know about me? I'm willing to answer anything."

Jason raises his hand to his face, scratching at the beard starting to take over his face.

Jason: “Well it is not easy for just anyone to get an invite to be here. I like to think that I was giving you an honest chance just by doing that. But I think it would be less than honest of me to give you the impression that this was a personal call. I am way too selfish for that.”

He laughs, and shrugs lightly. The smile on her face shortens, and her eyes narrow a little, confused by his words.

Jason: “See, you hit it off with Kris, which is a feat unto itself. I wanted to see if we would get along. You have been around the business, but find yourself not up to much now. I was thinking that maybe I could fill your schedule.”

Jessica: "Oh, what did you have in mind?"

Jessica questioned as she joined him in looking out towards the city. She pauses, almost long enough for him to respond, but adds a little clarification to her motives here.

Jessica: "...and just so you know, things haven't exactly gone my way in the personal sense. If that was all I thought this was, I wouldn’t have come out. I've been engaged twice and never made it down the aisle. The first time, my fiance left to deal with his own demons. The second time, he turned gay on me."

He turns his attention back to her, his eyes wide.

Jason: "Seriously?"

Jason sounded almost stunned by that.

Jessica: "Yeah, it baffles me too. Then as it turned out, he went back to being bi and got engaged to a redhead I had fought a time or two in the ring. Not to mention, more recently I dated someone who left me as soon as his ex resurfaced."

Jessica sighed in disgust.

Jessica: "But it is what it is. Can't really say I'm in a hurry to jump back into anything serious, just yet.”

Jessica let that hang in the air for a moment, then added.

Jessica: "...so what were you saying about filling up my schedule?"

He takes a few moments, running over everything she said. It was not so different from a few of his own stories. He smiles.

Jason: “I have some experience with bad relationships. I have had a handful of them as well. That is why I have become a very private person. What I do is nobody’s business but mine. It is Kris that likes all that confrontation and attention.”

His words on their personal lives seem to lead right back around into actual business.

Jason: “...and speaking of confrontation and attention is exactly what I think we can use you for. Someone to hang out with Jet City. Look out for our interests. Point us in the right direction, and look damn good doing so. That way, maybe I have to do a little bit less of the whole talking part.”

She was clearly taken by surprise.

Jessica: "Hmm..."

Jessica seemed to be thinking this all over.

Jessica: "...I don't have a problem with that. And Kris shouldn't either. Like you said, we did hit it off well enough. It really should work out just fine."

Jessica nodded before switching gears again.

Jessica: "I understand the part about wanting to keep your life private more than anyone else. I've been there. So if you ever need to tell me to get lost for awhile, feel free to do so.”

He sighs.

Jason: “There is kind of one major hangup that I have about all of this. If we are going to work together, then we really cannot have anyone thinking that this is the kind of conversation we are having in a hot tub. That kind of completely undermines everything that we would do in a ring. At that point you are a possible distraction instead of a help. Another talking point to be used against us. Even worse, a possible point of contention between myself and Kris.”

He shrugs.

Jason: “...so I guess that leaves the decision up to you.”

He searches her face for an answer in the pause between his finishing, and her answer. To his surprise, she does not give him much.

Jessica: "Well, the whole purpose of me coming out here was hear you out, and I’m not hating the idea.”

Her eyes sparkled with a certain mischief.

Jessica: "...and don't worry, I know how to be all professional when I need to be."

He nods, liking the sound of that.

Jason: “Then this will work out pretty well for the three of us.”

She gives him a weird look, so he clarifies.

Jason: “Me, you, and Kris. If we can make this whole thing work, and there is really nothing that can get in the way of Jet City being something worth writing down in a record book. I cannot say that there are going to be a lot of hot tub meetings in our future. I had to sweeten the deal with something this first time out. I’m glad it is something you are at least a little interested in though.”

He shrugs, looking back to him, and smiling.

Jessica: “It’s something new for me. At the very least it will be a good learning experience.”


=====================================================
=====================================================


[ON-CAMERA]

The scene opens with with Jet City standing in front of the camera. Both of them are brandishing their SCW Tag Team Championship around their waists. They would not normally garner so much attention other than the fact that they are both upside down. They are surrounded by the obstacle course in the basement of what has been referred to as "The Jet City Compound" which was, in reality, just a house. They are both smiling widely, and Kris brings up his hands to slowly, and sarcastically clap. Jason does not break his gaze from the camera, and is the first to talk.

Jason: Congratulations James and Dmitri. As much as both bosses seem to hate us, they must really like the two of you. First you come out and lose to The Monstimals, and yet, you still get an opportunity in the ring against us. It may not be for a championship, but it is one hell of a way to leapfrog people that have already beaten you, right? I mean, you lose a match to a better team, it would make sense that those guys get the match with the champions. Yet, here we are. Jet City against what cannot even be described as the second best team in the entire company.

Kris stops his sarcastic slow clap as Jason finishes. He shakes his head in disappointment, but does not necessarily agree with his brothers words.

Kris: On the other hand, maybe they do not really like you guys at all. First they put you in front of The Monstimals, and you got your asses kicked. Now they put you in a match against Jet City, without the titles on the line. Once you lose this match, you have to imagine that the two of you get shuffled way down the line. With new teams forming, and new teams coming in to challenge us, maybe they are just trying to remove you two from the conversation all together. I mean, SCW has already had to sit through Dmitri challenging for, and failing to capture gold on several occasions. They were just treated to James doing the same thing as the last thing they saw from SCW in 2016. Maybe you two have been given this match, because SCW has already written you off as individuals and this is their way of writing you off as a team as well. It is almost sad if you think about it.

Kris offers a shrug, and a genuine frown of sadness as he finishes. Jason breaks his gaze from the camera to look over, and clap his hand on Kris' shoulder for reassurance.

Jason: It is okay Kris, because the way that SCW seems to handle things, they will probably get more opportunities even if they do lose. I mean, they recently had a former world champion, past his prime, come into the company with a junkie, and they gave those two fools a shot at the SCW Tag Team Championships before they really even had a chance to prove that they could function as a team. Of course, after they won, management pretended like they did them a favor by "handing" them something they did not deserve, and then didn't even let them compete together for over a month.

Kris' face scrunches up a little bit as he thinks it over.

Kris: Are you talking about us?

Jason's smile fades, and his eyes narrow on his brother. There was silliness, and then there was taking it too far.

Jason: Is that really all that you took away from that?

The sadness fades from Kris' face, and he smiles, his eyes widening.

Kris: Nah, what I took away from it, is that The Elders called themselves one of the greatest tag teams that SCW has ever seen, and at this point, we have managed to hang onto the titles longer than they have. Not only that, but since we came here, neither of us have even been pinned. The only match that we did not get our arms raised at the end of, was when that choad J2H got you disqualified because his overgrown man-child couldn't hack it. At the end of the night though, you walked away unscathed, and without a broken jaw so he looked like a damn fool.

Jason nods, thinking about all of it from Kris' perspective.

Jason: I had not thought about it like that, actually. If you think about it, we probably are the only two people, holding championships, that can say that they closed out 2016 without an actual loss. We won these...

He pats the title that hangs, inverted, around his waist.

Jason: ... in our debut, and so far nobody has pinned us, made us tap out, or even gotten us counted out.

Kris interrupts to add an addition to the list.

Kris: And we have not gotten our asses kicked so badly that someone had to throw in a towel on our behalf so that we do not literally get murdered in the middle of the ring.

Jason snaps his fingers and points to his brother.

Jason: You know? I had actually forgotten about that. That is a good point.

Kris smiles, and nods, proud of himself.

Kris: I know. You're welcome.

Jason peels his eyes away from his brother to turn back to the camera.

Jason: Of course, it really does not matter what we say here. We can go on and on about our point of view, but I doubt many people on the roster, and likely nobody in management, will agree with us. If you take what we did in 2016 at face value, it seems impressive. It becomes a lot less so when you talk about the fact that we have been here for almost two months, and have had three matches. Kris won his. We won these titles. Then J2H's man bitch skated on a technicality. If you look at that, Jet City didn't really do anything worth talking about. We beat a team for these tag team titles that probably only won them because the last team was on the way out. After all, Team BJ have not competed as a team since, and have had a match against each other in the mean time. Come time for this match between Jet City and the Unholy Alliance, they may even be retired for good.

Jason pauses, and Kris takes over from where he stops.

Kris: We are champions of a depleted tag team division, and we have not put in the legwork to actually make being champions mean anything worth talking about. Not that it is our fault though. Both Mark Ward and Christian Underwood have been straight forward about the fact that we didn't deserve the chance for these titles and they were gifted to us. They try to invalidate us at every turn. We are casualties of some feud over which one of them is the bigger bitch. Here is the problem with the things they say though: If these titles were a gift, why are they stopping us from earning them? Why is it that we have only had three matches in two months? Why is it that the two of you are okay with shitting all over two of your champions, while denying them the opportunity to make something of themselves?

Jason looks down, shaking his head in disgust.

Kris: And before you two get all up in arms about this, and talk about the match that we have right now being an opportunity, just stop. Jet City signed contracts with SCW at Halloween. Our second match as a team didn't happen until the turn of the year. Do we not have a right to bitch about that a little? We have been sidelined in order to sit on commentary, throw parties, and act like assholes backstage in order to provide some additional time in between matches taking place. That is not what we signed up for. Granted, we are not to people to shy away from the opportunity to steal a little spotlight, and we love hearing ourselves talk, but that is not exclusively what we signed on here to do. We signed here to be in the ring. We signed here to be real champions, not two people just to hold something backstage while management spends a couple months measuring dicks.

Jason looks up, and holds up an index finger, interrupting just momentarily.

Jason: And we realize that saying that may be more offensive to Mark than it is Christian, so we will just level the playing field by saying, from out perspective, Mark has the lead, albeit both measurements being short and disappointing.

It is Kris' turn to interject.

Kris: Short and disappointing, but not to be confused the SCW Tag Team Championship reign of The Elder Bitches.

Again, Jason interrupts.

Jason: The Elder Bitches, not to be confused with The Female Elders.

Kris nods in agreement.

Kris: Because God forbid we call them bitches and people get bent out of shape on Twitter, and flood our timeline with shit trying to make us feel bad.

The two turn away from the camera, and share a laugh with one another before Jason tries to get them back on track.

Jason: The fact remains that Jet City came here to make something of themselves. We have held up our end of that bargain. Anyone that has been put in front of us has either lost, or cheaply swindled out a way to walk away.

Kris interrupts a final time, but this time Jason does not find it funny.

Kris: You didn't even get to hit him with that title did you? Totally got disqualified without the satisfaction of actually doing it. Does that not grate on you?

Jason sighs, frustrated, but does not turn from the camera or acknowledge Kris' words.

Jason: Jet City has not gotten the opportunity do to anything worthwhile. The jokes that people make, the insults that management throws at us, they all kind of ring true. 2017 is going to be the year that all of that changes. We at Jet City, are going to be making those changes, starting right now.

They stop, looking off camera, and nodding for their silent partner to step into the frame. The fans are treated to a sight of a blonde woman in a blue dress that sinks almost too low on her chest and ends nearly unacceptably high on her thing. She steps around the two of them, coming to rest between them, in the center of the frame.

Kris: Since SCW is not going to look our for the interests of Jet City, we are just going to have to do it ourselves. If people want to get involved from ringside, then those people are going to do so in our favor. If someone is going to go into the office and nag at the people making the matches, then we are going to make sure that person is about as high maintenance, demanding, and unrelenting as they come. If we cannot change the image that you people get in your head when you think of us by ourselves, then we will just give all of you a little something else to look at while we do our thing.

The three of them exchange glances, all showing a similar smile on their faces.

Jason: It was dangerous enough to allow my and my brother to work in the same company, at the same time, as a team. Since that wasn't taken seriously, we decided to up the ante a little. Jet City now has all of the same maliciousness...

Kris: With a walking bombshell of a distraction to help it all happen so much more smoothly.

The two brothers unstrap the SCW Tag Team Championships from their waists and hold them up.

Jason: We are....

All: Jet City!

68
Climax Control Archives / Role Reversal
« on: December 09, 2016, 10:20:27 PM »
 December 9th 2016
Seattle, Washington
Jason Halich’s House
Off-Camera




Kris entered the house ten minutes ago, not surprised to find it dark and quiet. The sun was not even up, so the fact that there were no lights on in the house would have led anyone else to believe that the residents were sleeping. Fortunately, from knowing the occupant for a long twenty-seven years, Kris knew otherwise. He makes his way through the dark rooms and hallways without flipping on a light. He had done so a number of times before, so he knew his way around. There was no danger in falling over something new, or something rearranged, because his brother was not here often enough to do so. However, two days before his first solo match in two years, Kris knew that he would find him here. That is why he was not surprised when he opened up the door leading to the basement and got blinded by the bright florescent lights.

Jason’s basement was not typical in any way. As soon as the door opened, the previously pin-drop silent house was filled with music. The house had been built in such a way that the sound did not travel through the floors. That was true between the main floor, and second floor, but especially true for the basement. When Haley had lived here, it was absolutely necessary to trap noise between levels as they kept alternating schedules. Kris makes his way down the stairs, a handrail the only thing separating him from a drop to the concrete floor. In constructing the house, Jason had demanded that the basement floor sit twenty feet below the ceiling. He had plans for this space, and he delivered on it with his own creativity. Not only did it contain a full gym, and a ring, but also an obstacle course equivalent to that of a Ninja Warrior set, and not the generic American substitute.

Kris had tried to run the course setup faster than his brother on multiple occasions, but always came up short. Half of the gym equipment was set to so much resistance that Kris would spend more time adjusting everything than he would working out. Anybody that had ever met the two of them knew which one of them was the harder worker, and the more determined, but it was never more obvious than in this setting. Kris reaches the bottom of the stairs and pushes back his right sleeve to check his watch. It was only five-thirty. Being that it was Jason, that probably meant that he was already an hour and a half into the day.

Kris steps into the main area of the obstacle course, the music so loud that he could not locate his brother. Instead of wandering around searching, he makes his way to the table resting alongside the final obstacle in the course and picks up the tablet that rests on it. He clicks the screen to life, and presses his thumb to the sensor, unlocking it before spinning the digital sound knob down to zero.


Jason: “What the fuck!”

Kris’ brother comes out from between a few of the obstacles, pulling a towel from his back pocket to wipe at his forehead. He stops when he sees that it was his brother and not technical difficulties that stopped him in the middle of his workout. Kris thought that maybe he would become less annoyed knowing that it was not some flaw in technology, and  a real person instead, but his expression does not soften.

Jason: “Is there something I can do for you? Not all of us have the luxury of having the week off. I have a match I need to get ready for.”

Kris laughs and holds his hands up, pleading innocence.

Kris: “Calm down Captain Roid-rage. I just wanted to see what was up. Nobody has really seen or heard from you in a week. We were thinking maybe you pushed yourself so hard up here that you died. You are getting kind of old.”

Jason approaches the table and grabs a bottle of water from it.

Jason: “First, shut up.”

He spins the top off of the bottle and tosses it into the trash pin at the far end of the table before taking a long drink from it.

Jason: “Second, not everyone prepares for matches by blowing a paycheck on smack and then banging random Twitter skanks.”

Kris takes clear offense to not only the words spoken, but the hateful and pointed tone in which they were directed at him. In response, he holds up the index finger of his left hand.

Kris: “That’s one.”

Kris takes a step towards his brother, and rests his hand on his shoulder.

Kris: “You need to calm down. You get too far into your head about this, and it is going to go the way that you fear it going. Bring it down a notch.”

Jason finishes the bottle of water and then slaps his brother’s hand away before tossing the bottle into the same bin as the lid.

Jason: “It has been two years. When we won these titles, I could feel myself getting winded around the halfway point. That is all well and good when there is someone that I can tag in and catch my breath. That was the point of doing this thing together. I thought I would have time to get my form back. Apparently not. I need to cram about three months' worth of prep work into a week. I need to be able to go full speed.”

Kris surveys his brother, trying to figure out exactly how hard he is pushing himself. He was not as observant as his elder, or even the majority of their friends, but something does stick out to him. His eyes track down to his brother’s right knee, which is entirely exposed. The scars surrounding it have faded with age, but were still prominent enough to be a red flag.

Kris: “Where’s your brace?”

Jason laughs, and again towels off his forehead.

Jason: “Full speed, Kris. It would only slow me down. I am not taking the risk of not being ready to go.”

It was the kind of comment that Kris would have expected to hear come out of his own mouth. Mostly because it was stupid, short-sighted, and more dangerous than helped. Jason starts to turn away to get back to what he was doing, but Kris tracks quickly around him to stand in his way.

Kris: “And what happens when you blow your knee out for a third time? Not even in a ring, or at a show, but in your basement of all places? How fast are you going to be able to go then?”

Jason reaches out and places his left hand on Kris’ left bicep before swiping him out of his way. He tries again to go back to what he is doing, but this time Kris reaches, and grabs his shoulder, spinning his brother back to facing him. In response, Jason swings at him, but Kris gets a hand up to swat it away. Jason follows, raising a knee to catch Kris in the stomach, but the younger brother lowers both hands, interlocking his fingers and slamming them down hard on top of Jason’s left knee to avoid. The strength at which the knee is propelled forward causes Kris to take a step backwards. Jason is not letting go though, he takes a step forward to close the gap, He throws another right hand, but Kris leans back, avoiding it, and then grabbing his brother by the arm, and wrenching him into a bent forward position, and then raising a foot to kick the back of Jason’s bad knee, which drops him to both knees on the floor. As soon as his knee hits the concrete, Kris lets his arm go. Jason quickly shifts to be sitting, winded. He looks up at Kris, his eyes on fire.

Jason: “What is your problem?”

Kris laughs, and shakes his head. The audacity of the accusation makes him feel like he is in some kind of alternate reality where they switched personalities. He had never experienced this kind of argument from this side before.

Kris: “We are doing this Jet City thing. We can only keep doing that if you are healthy, and functional. This shit…”

He points down at Jason’s exposed knee.

Kris: “...is going to end Jet City before we actually get going. You need to pull your head out of your ass before you cost us everything we already have, and anything we are going to build.”

Jason shakes his head, and looks down. He pushes up off of the floor, but does not dare plant his right foot flat to the floor. There was a familiar tingling from his knee all the way down to his toes. He was not about to admit that his brother was right though.

Kris: “You want to be a bitch and not talk about what is bothering you? Fine. Just know, that it is not going to be me that fucks this up for us this time. If it falls apart, it is going to be on you. For once, you are going to be the fuck up sibling. I don’t know if you know this, but I am not the type to follow you around and pick you up after everyone breaks you down as a result of it. I am not you. So how about you pry your head out of your ass, and let me go back to making the dumb decisions while you put everything back together. It has worked out pretty well so far.”

Jason laughs, flexing his leg before finally putting it down and putting weight on it. He walks around in a tight circle, testing its durability. When he is satisfied that he is okay, he plants it firmly, resting his hands on his hips and looking at the floor.

Jason: “It is not coming back as quickly as it has in the past. I have pretty clearly lost a step, and I am not sure if I am going to get it back in time.”

Kris holds his arms out to his sides, and shrugs. There is a smile on his face, and a surprising lack of any confusion.

Kris: “What did you expect? You’re getting older. You haven’t even been trying to keep in ring shape for two years. Honestly though, the shit doesn’t even matter.”

Jason raises his gaze to meet his brother’s eyes, and his brow furrows. The confusion that should have been on Kris’ face after the realization was on his own.

Jason: “How do you figure that it doesn’t matter? I step slower means I am behind the ball. It means I am not as good as I used to be. How is that not a bad thing?”

Kris shakes his head, and draws even more irritation from his brother by laughing.

Kris: “Let me ask you a question, when you started out, you were faster and more agile than you are now, right?”

Jason rolls his eyes, not having any interest in playing this game right now. After a few moments of silence though, he comes to the realization that Kris is not going to move on without his participation though.

Jason: “Yes… obviously.”

Kris nods, but that was only the set-up to his point.

Kris: “When you started out, were you someone who had done this job for nine years? Someone that has risen to the top of three different companies? Were you a Triple Crown Champion? Were you in any Hall of Fames? Did you have more championships to your name than you have cabinet space in your house?”

Jason should have seen it coming, but he was too wrapped up in his anger to see where Kris was going before he got there. The short list of his accomplishments that Kris rattles off breaks through that anger and brings a small smile to his face. He tries to play it off though.

Jason: “And?”

Kris closes the distance between them and places his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Kris: “The step you have lost is more than made up for by the experience you have. You don’t need to be as fast, as agile, as you used to be. Mostly because you are not going to make all of the same mistakes that you did back then. All that excess energy you used to burn fucking up, you don’t need it now.”

Jason shakes his head, laughing at the sentiment. The anger and irritation was starting to fade.

Jason: “You realize you are the least likely source of any kind of pep talk, right?”

Kris shrugs, and fires back.

Kris: “You realize that you are the least likely to make idiot decisions in this family, right?”

Kris points down at his brother’s knee.

Kris: “Get your shit together, and then get back to work. I am going to go watch as much as I can about this guy and we can start game planning after you are done, and wash the not-so-faint smell of ass off of yourself.”

Jason nods, chuckling lightly before moving off towards the weight room where the rest of his equipment was. Kris turns back to the table, spinning the digital sound knob again to blast the music through the basement.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


December 9th 2016
Seattle, Washington
Jason Halich’s House
On-Camera


“Lately I have been feeling a lot like my brother. I mean, I came to this company where my name is a virtual unknown, and walk around with people that know more about him than they do me. I have been making dumb choices in training. I have even been picking fights on Twitter with random people for no reason.”

The scene surrounding the elder half of Jet City is strange to those unfamiliar with him. Behind him is a warped wall, and as the camera pans around him fans can see it is not the only obstacle set up in the room. Anyone that follows him on Twitter will notice immediately that it is the same room he has been posting GIFs of his preparation from.

“I thought that this Jet City thing was going to end up making Kris a little more like me. I didn't realize that the opposite would be true too. Earlier today he even gave me one of my own lectures, and I am sure that I looked at him with the same ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look that I typically get from him. Tagging with someone is no new thing to me. I have done it all throughout my career. I could list off those names, but they mean nothing here. I am a newcomer, and as such, should be treated like one. The fact remains though. I am in the fight that I am in this week, for the same reasons that Kris ends up in most of his fights. I was trying to make a name for myself here. I was trying to take a big leap out of his shadow to do my own thing in SCW. Now, with Jet City being the big picture, that is not going to realistically happen. I am not going to be chasing down singles titles, or competing in big main events as a solo act. For the most part, I am going to be seen standing side-by-side with the kid brother that I normally look down on. That is going to be what defines me in SCW.”

He laughs, breaking his gaze from the camera to look down and shake his head.

“To think that all anyone has talked about in reference to me all week is how I have been a disrespectful prick to the SCW Heavyweight Champion, who started shit on Twitter is kind of funny. I mean I kind of did just kind of show up and win the SCW Tag Team Championships in my first actual match. That has to count for something, right? I mean it is bad form to come in and talk about things you did elsewhere, like they are supposed to matter. I do not have the problem of being someone that is so new that they have not made an impression on the record books. I did not want to wait to have to be recognized. I went out on my first night and did something worth doing.”

For a while his tone trails more and more serious, and less on the jovial side, but as he finishes he smiles.

“This whole thing started because I changed my name on Twitter to promote a party. J2H was too good to come, so I used my initials to make him out to sound like he was actually second in line. J1H has a nicer ring to it anyways, but that is neither here, nor there. I put myself above the champion, and his butt hurt little sidekick took exception.”

He holds up his hands, palms out to the camera, not wanting anyone to take offense.

“... and yes before I get hounded by the SCW police, I know that Rage has quite the impressive resume here. The guy was the first person ever to hold the title that I am holding now almost five years ago, to the date. I know he has held it since that glorious month way back when. I know that he also went on to have the most wonderful month and a half holding the same title J2H carries around. He has even hung onto that title that my… how did it go?”

Jason pauses and raises his index finger up to his lips and taps it there a few times. His eyes widen as a result of his fake epiphany, and he holds the same index finger up in the air to signify the correct phrase has struck him before he continues.

“… junkie brother, whose coattails I am riding, held onto for a while. The Internet Championship, is it? The one that my brother held onto, as the first title he ever won, for a couple of months, when you could not even hack it for longer than twenty-eight days the first time. You were a former SCW Heavyweight Champion at that point Rage. You were a multi-time tag team champion at that point. You couldn’t manage to hang on to a title longer than the talentless junkie half of Jet City. What does that tell you as you get ready to go up against the smarter, better trained, better looking, and more experienced half of this team?”

Jason shrugs, demanding a verbal answer from a person not physically there to give one. He gives it time to set in, only for his expression to shift to one of disappointment when no reply comes.

“I will tell you what you are going to do. You are going to do the same thing you did against Sean Williams and Wyatt Peterson. The same thing you did against Dmitri, Despayre and Nick Jones. You are going to walk in, confident that you are going to win, and you are going to limp out without a damn thing to your name. That latter part though, you are going to do that after having someone beat your ass, and walk away with a title held above their head. Sure, this match has nothing to do with a title, but I thought you could easily relate to the visual.”

He laughs and moves across to the table holding all of his ring gear. There is a bag on the table, and he starts tossing everything into the bag.

“You came to me on Twitter and told me that I was less important than the number one champion in this company. Those were your words, not mine. For that small portion of our back and forth, having a title in his possession put him above other people on the roster. Once you realized that I was one half of the tag team champions, all of a sudden having a title was no longer an important thing. All of a sudden, a person’s past accomplishments and contributions to SCW meant more than anything, and since I have only been around for the blink of an eye I wasn’t worth shit. The way that you flipped your argument to attempt to save face was sloppy and laughable. So let me remind you one thing……”

He finishes tossing everything into the bag and zips the top of it up. He picks it up by the long strap connected to both ends, and hangs it over his shoulder.

“I didn’t approach you for this fight. I didn’t come after you on Twitter. I didn’t call you out. I didn’t even know you existed before you put yourself in front of me, because I am still relatively ignorant on the names and faces of this company. You were the one that took offense. You were the one that tweeted me in defense of the ass your lips are glued to. You were the one that got bent out of shape and hostile. You made this match happen. So the only person that you get to blame when you lose, and have to watch, heartbroken, when my arm gets raised at the end of the match, is yourself.”

He takes a step towards the camera and raises his hand out of the frame, hovering over the button to switch it off. He looks directly into the lens first, speaking directly to Rage.

"I never expected that I would be standing one-on-one in the middle of a ring again. I thought this time was going to be Jet City, Jet City, and even more Jet City. You said that I was riding my brother's coattails. Now you get to be the first one to find out that Kris is not even close to being on my level. That is something that the two of you have very much in common. I would wish you good luck, but I have made enough jokes. I would give you a little catchphrase about an ambulance, but I am the wrong Halich for that. Instead, I will leave you with this one piece of advice."

He smiles widely.

"Next time you want start a fight with your keyboard, do a little research on the person before you click that send button. That way you will not make getting your ass kicked a habit in the upcoming weeks.

He flips the switch on the side of the camera and the feed cuts off.

69
Supercard Archives / ELDERS (c) v KRIS & JASON HALC
« on: November 18, 2016, 10:13:28 PM »
 “Growing Concerns”
[Off-Camera]
Monday
November 14th, 2016
Los Angeles, CA -- Kris’ Home


The door of Kris and Heather’s loft opens, and the oldest member of their social circle, and growing family, steps into the living room. Looking around at its emptiness, he finds himself happy that he had been given a key. Jason had clearly expected kids running around, and people to be here, but it was, from what he could tell, devoid of life. He drops the bag, hanging from his shoulder, to the floor, and then pushes it against the wall with his foot, before turning to the large room. His eyes fixate on the floor for a moment, the very same place that he had found Kris faced down and overdosed nearly two years ago. He tries to shake that visual image out of his head before calling out.

Jason: “Is anyone home? I was pretty sure everyone knew I was coming….”

He speaks loud enough for his voice to carry throughout the rooms, but not loud enough to be startling, or cause a sleeping baby to stir. However, he is not met with a verbal response. Instead, he hears movement in the kitchen, and sees one of the only lights in the loft beaming from it. He moves across the living room, and pushes open the door slowly. Inside he finds his very pregnant sister-in-law, her back to him. He knocks twice on the counter next to the door he walks in to get her attention. Heather had earbuds in, and they were blasting loud enough for Jason to hear their muffled music from across the kitchen. She had clearly not heard Jason enter the apartment, nor call out, but the knock on the counter startles her slightly. She turns from the sink of dishes, in a panic, a large metal ladle in her hand, with soap running down both it and her arm. The lowers it and relaxes when she sees who is there. She turns off the music player and pulls down the headphones.

Jason: “Were you planning on scooping me to death?”

She drops it back into the soapy water and shrugs, not dwelling on it. She turns from the water and dries off her hands on a towel hanging over her shoulder.

Heather: “Jay... I thought you weren't getting in until tomorrow.”

She replaces the towel and walks over to place a chaste but still warm kiss to his cheek.

Heather: “I figured you would want to spend as much time as possible with Jules.”

She gives him a knowing smirk.

Jason: “She has studying to do. I think she is flying out for the show, but I did not want to keep her away from class or anything. Besides, I am easy to get tired of, and this is a new thing. And I have to get your idiot husband prepared for a tag team championship match. That is no small feat.”

The topic change tacked onto the end of what his statement demonstrates everything to her that she needed to know on the subject. Jason kept his personal life almost completely separate from his circle of friends and family until he knew a person was worth bringing in. There were kids, and years of friendships that would be challenged by a new person. He was not the type to do so recklessly.

Jason: “So where is he anyways? Leaving you unattended and pregnant seems rude.”
Heather chuckles and folds her arms in front of her chest. Jason knew almost immediately what the words that were about to come out of her mouth were.  

Heather: “He is taking KJ to Liz’s. He will probably be back soon enough.”

Heather bites her lip, playing nice when it came to her was hard. But Heather being the sweet girl she was, often held her tongue when it came to her step-son’s birth mother.

Heather: “You can go hang out in the living room and wait for him. It is boring in here.”

He looks around the room for a moment and shakes his head, before turning to the counter next to him.

Jason: “I’m good to hang out here and annoy you.”

He pops up off the floor and sits down on the cabinet closest to the door. She smiles, going back to the sink of dishes.

Heather: “You couldn't possibly annoy me more than Kris does. I'm desensitized to anything less.”

His eyes narrow on her, even though she is not facing him to see so. He surveys the counter around him, looking for something, anything he could use.

Jason: “I am pretty sure that anything Kris knows, he learned from me, and I am not dumb enough to give away all my secrets.”

Reaching at the drawers next to where his legs hang off of the cabinet, he finds silverware, taking a spoon. He looks up, reassuring himself that her back was still to him. Silently, he starts to peer into the cabinets behind him, finding it full of cooking spices. He reaches in, grabbing one at random and smiling before pouring it onto the spoon. He leans forward to shorten the distance it would have to fly, and prepares to fire.

Jason: “Wait, what is this?”

The question was meant to get Heather to turn towards him, and works flawlessly. Before she can even turn most of the way, he accurately launches the contents of the spoon to hit her before she can even see it flying through the air. The spice gets into her face in a small cloud of brown. Heather immediately starts coughing as it enters her nose and mouth. Immediately her eyes start to water as the cinnamon settles around her.  She sighs, grabbing a dishrag she tosses it at Jason's head.

Heather: “You can clean this up while I wash my face.”

She walks past him, patting him on the shoulder but there isn't even a hint of anger in her face. He mocks her in his best impression of her voice, along with a stereotypical bobble of his head that children use when they talk back to parents. He hops from the counter, brushing the cinnamon off of the island counter in the center of the room, and into the palm of his hand, before shaking it in the sink. He dampens the rag, and then drops it to the floor, moving it around with his foot to clear the mess on the floor. As he finishes, she comes back into the room.

Jason: “I almost don’t even want to know what Kris does to you on such a regular basis that a face full of cinnamon did not phase you.”

She re-enters, there is however still cinnamon in her hair. She sneezes into her arm.

Heather: “Living with him is like having two children, and the baby is easier.”

She laughs, and he silently nods in agreement.

Heather: “But the good times are well worth his moments of impishness.”

Jason: “You have to savor those good times, because the majority of the time he is a pain in the ass, or much, much worse.”

Heather: “He makes life interesting. I wouldn't have it any other way. It's this unexplainable feeling like even though so many have said that I could do better, no one is or was.”

She bites her inner cheek for a moment before looking into Jason's eyes earnestly.

Heather: “You're going to keep an eye on him right? When I'm not there? I support anything he wants to do but if I’m honest it scares the shit out of me that he is going back.”

Jason drops the smile from his face slowly. His expression twists to show his debate in contemplating being brutally honest, or supportive. The former loses out to the ladder, but not by much.

Jason: “Kris is difficult, impulsive, reckless, and self-serving. I struggle to find any other way to describe him. However, he is not like that when you are involved. He is less like that now that you two are married, and there are kids on the line. He has these little brilliant flashes of acting like a real functioning adult, and they are happening a lot more often than they used to.”

He shrugs, and moves back around the kitchen to where he was previously sitting on the counter, but leans against it instead of hopping up on it.

Jason: “I am terrified about where this whole tag team titles thing lands us. It is all fun and games in front of a camera, but he is just starting to wrap his head around being back at all, let alone being the champion of an entire division. I don’t know if he is ready for something like that. We kind of do not have a choice but to find out though. The important thing, at least for him, is that he knows if he falls back into it, I am gone, and likely you are gone. If Liz asks for a drug test through the court and he fails, KJ is gone. I am hoping that the things riding on him staying on this side of the line are enough to push him away from anything else.”

Heather takes a deep breath.

Heather: “I never pretend that we have a perfect life. We are addicts and typically people have trouble trusting us for the rest of our lives even if we never touch the source of the addiction ever again. My sisters are always watching me. I am not naive enough to think that everything is going to be perfect. I never expect that I am enough to keep him sober but I do hope I’m enough to have him at least think twice.”

She's still looking a little unsure, her blue eyes wide and almost fearful for the unpredictable future. Jason nods, but does not look up at her.

Jason: “For a long time, I sat around hoping that my relationship with him would be enough to keep his head out of his ass. Every time I thought he was turning a corner, he would slide back down to rock bottom. It was never enough. I have started to think that coming back is one level of pressure on him. Maybe if I was there with him, we would be able to push through it together, when he has failed to do it himself. This whole championship thing is another whole monster altogether. I am not sure he can handle it.”

He does finally look up, and the genuine comedic nature of their conversations is completely gone from his expression.

Jason: “I can’t tell you that it is all going to work out. I can tell you that sharing hotel rooms, and not letting him out of my sight while we are on the roads means that if things start to spin out of control, I will notice it pretty quickly, and try to contain the explosion before it goes nuclear.”

He shrugs again, and folds his arms across his chest.

Jason: “That’s the best I can do.”

Heather nods, the disappointment starts to set in that there is really no way to soothe her fears any time soon. It will just take sitting and hoping that Kris makes the right decisions.

Heather: “I appreciate that. Not that I don't trust him. I like to think I trust him more than anyone else but something he doesn't like to admit is that he is sensitive to how people perceive him. When he does get upset he can lose hope.”

Jason actually laughs at her words, but not in the typical condescending way that he normally would. It was very much the opposite.

Jason: “That is something that not a lot of people understand about Kris. People think he has this thick skin because he gets in all kinds of arguments on Twitter, or battles in promos. The truth of it is, outside of an argument that he provoked, or a narrative that he has pushed about himself, he cannot handle people talking about him. That is why he pushes the addict thing too hard. If people talk about that, he can brush it off. However, if people started hitting him about not being a good enough parent, or having been so shitty in past relationships that it is almost assured that you will eventually leave him, it destroys him.”

He shakes his head, the thought of it was actually pretty saddening.

Jason: “You know him better than most, so you see these things. It is reassuring to me that you do. It took me twenty-seven years of knowing him to get to this point.”

Heather: “I gave up on him too easily before. When he said he wanted to try and make it work with Liz, I walked away. I won't make that mistake again. So rest assured Jason, there is nothing that will make me leave. Even if he falls off that cliff again. Some might think it's foolish. I call it being so deeply in love that there isn't anything you wouldn't do to keep him around.”

He laughs, but he knew that she was not wrong. He could see it every time that they were in the presence of one another.

Jason: “Which is better than the reason that I do it. I just do not think that I could handle seeing him dead, but even I have gotten to a point before where I was ready to just walk away. If he destroyed himself, fine. I was not even going to be around to see it.”

He looks back down at the floor.

Jason: “And then my daughter died, and everything changed.”

Heather moves forward, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Heather: “I can't even imagine that kind of pain Jason. I am really sorry.”

As soon as the last word comes from her mouth, the door to the kitchen pushes open, and Kris steps through the door. His eyes are down, and on his phone as he reads through the messages from his brother.

Kris: “Heather, have you heard from…”

He looks up to see his brother standing in his kitchen. His eyes dart back and forth between them, before narrowing on Heather.

Kris: “Why do you two have a look like you were talking about me?”
Jason laughs and pushes away from the counter, moving past his brother, and back into the living area.

Jason: “Delusions of grandeur I tell you. The kid thinks the world revolves around him. Like we wouldn’t have other interesting things to discuss. Like the long standing affair we are having, and we are afraid to tell him the baby is actually mine.”

The door closes almost perfectly at the same time he finishes his sentence, and Kris looks back and forth between the door and his wife, waiting for her response. She shrugs, a perfect expression of nonchalant on her face.

Heather: “Gotta keep it in the family, right?”

She breaks too easily though and a wide smile breaks over her face.

Heather: “Uh... Jet City!”

She raises a hand before slipping through the swinging door and leaving Kris alone and baffled.


====================================================-
=====================================================


“Championship Moments”
[On-Camera]
Thursday
November 18th, 2016
Los Angeles, CA -- Galen Center

Jason and Kris are standing in the middle of the SCW ring that is already set up and ready for High Stakes, just 48 hours away. If the camera panned in either direction from the ring, fans would be able to see people still assembling the stage, and working to get the arena itself set up for the show. However, it does not pan. It stays locked on the two brothers, in ring gear, standing side by side. As we zoom in though, the two separate, revealing a large flat screen hanging behind them at about shoulder level. The screen is currently off, but Jason holds in his hand a tiny remote to control it. Before he does, Kris speaks up.

Kris: “Now as two guys that are typically late to everything, I’m sure you all are wondering exactly what we are doing here two days before the show is even going to kick off. To answer that, we could say that we were scouting, or preparing ourselves, by familiarizing ourselves with the arena, and the ring, and the size of the crowd….”

The older of the two brothers interrupts, throwing on his best Rain Man impression.

Jason: “It’s definitely the T.V…. defin--.. Definit--.. Definitely the T.V.”

Kris closes his eyes and shakes his head in frustration.

Kris: “If I have to tell you one more tim--”

Jason interrupts him.

Jason: “We just wanted to use the monitor hanging from the rafters shtick. No more. No less. We never get to do it. It looked like fun.”

Kris looks over at his older brother, clearly annoyed.

Kris: “Do you want them to think that we are unprepared idiots? Because that is how you make them think that we are unprepared idiots.”

Jason holds up his hand, and disagrees.

Jason: “If we were unprepared, would we have heard everything The Members of the Elders said about us last week?”

Kris tosses over the idea, but is forced into agreement.

Kris: “No…”

Jason’s smile widens.

Jason: “If we were unprepared, would we have put together our own counter-strike on their intelligence?”

Kris looks down, and this time shakes his head, almost looking disappointed in himself.

Kris: “No.”

Jason’s voice raises to a comically loud, and fake offended tone.

Jason: “So how dare you say that we are unprepared!”

He reaches over his shoulder, and points at the screen with the remote. Nothing happens at first. When the screen does not come to life, Jason looks confused, and smacks at the remote a few times, and starts mashing the buttons. Kris looks up from the mat, his voice low enough to not want to infuriate his brother.

Kris: “Did you remember the batteries for the remote?”

Jason turns his death glare to Kris, infuriated at the thought. He turns the remote over and claws at the cover, only to find the compartment empty. He shakes it in his fist before tossing it out into the arena. The sound of it clanging around in the seats echoes through the arena a few moments later. Kris takes a few steps over to the screen, and then clicks it on. The image that appears is a freeze frame of a tweet that Jason sent out the day they signed contracts. People paying attention notice that it is the same tweet that The Members of The Elders used. Kris turns back to the camera, and Jason reads off his words.

Jason: “Oddly enough, I do not think that SCW is going to be graced with my presence, or my brother’s, but a genuine Jet City appearance….”

Jason sighs and looks down in disappointment.

Jason: “I thought that tweet was pretty clear.”

Kris turns to him to offer him some reassuring words.

Kris: “I thought you expressed yourself beautifully. I mean….”

Kris closes some of the distance between them, and holds his hand out in front of his brother’s chest. He looks directly into the camera and speaks slowly for those that may not have followed the content of the tweet.

Kris: “Not just Jason.”

He moves his hand over, and pats his own chest.

Kris: “Not just Kris.”

He then moves his hands back and forth between the two of them, trying to signal both of them together.

Kris: “But Jet City.”

Jason snaps out of his disappointment and nods, albeit rolling his eyes at his brother’s delivery of the explanation.

Jason: “Thanks for the rundown, short bus.”

He walks to the ropes closest to where the camera is focused on them and leans forward, resting his arms on them.

Jason: “Elder Bitches….”

He feels that his words need a little clarification after hearing them out loud.

Jason: “Not to be confused with the female half of The Elders. I am referencing the members with dangly parts.”

Jason holds out his hands to his side, and shakes his head in disbelief.

Jason: “How could you fuck that up? You took this tweet, which was my demonstrating that we were coming in as a team, and not as two individuals, and messed up interpreting it, so badly that I am starting to wonder if I should allow myself to step in a ring and hurt you two. I find myself lying in bed, kept awake by the thought of having to smack around people that may not be mentally capable of knowing what is happening to them. How do you two wake up, put your pants on in the morning, and go into the world to make big boy decisions without the ability to process the content of a Tweet correctly? It is not like I was being misleading in any way. If you take out the parts about me and my brother, essentially the tweet says that SCW is going to be graced with the presence of Jet City. We were bringing a new and exciting tag team into this company, because we thought Jet City, as a whole, would be better than the sum of its parts. That is the idea behind tag team wrestling, is it not? Two people forming a team that makes them more dominant, more balanced, and more successful than they are as individuals?”

Kris steps up to join his brother by the ropes, picking up almost right as Jason finishes his thought.

Kris: “You seem to think that this tag team was thrown together last second. One of the reasons we came to SCW specifically was because we wanted to do something as a team. It was Twitter that announced us separately. It was people talking about me coming back, and my brother considering signing on for the first time. It was reported that we were individuals. So to correct the record, Jason decided to set everyone straight. This isn’t about Kris Halich. This isn’t about JHalc. This is about Jet City. Stepping foot in the door for the first time was all we needed to see the sorry state of the tag division. We decided what our plan was before we ever even put our names on the dotted line.”

Kris shakes his head, his disappointment with The Elders very evident.

Jason: “We were not blinded. We were not overlooking the clearly vacant spot in the tag team division. That is why when we showed up at Halloween, we did so connected at the hip. The first glimpse that SCW got of us, was as Jet City. That was before Kris ever got a singles match here, but definitely not before Jet City made landfall.”

Kris holds out his hand and taps Jason on the shoulder to stop him before he moved on.

Kris: “For you two to think that this is not exactly what we wanted to happen, shows us you may very well be clueless. Before I stepped away earlier this year, this Jet City thing was what we were doing for the foreseeable future. Shit happened to prevent that. Life happened. Companies closed. New homes needed to be found. We found that home a few weeks ago when we showed up to Climax Control and were nearly ripped apart by a big undead bitch.”

Jason holds up his hands in the air. They start close together, but then he moves them apart, mimicking a big billboard marquee.

Jason: “Jet City, making their debut to take on the self-proclaimed ‘Greatest SCW Tag Team Champions Ever’ at High Stakes.”

He drops his hands and the two enjoy a good laugh.

Kris: “True story. I was in such disbelief that it came out of your mouth that I had to have it read back to me to check it for accuracy.”

Jason: “The fact that you two make such a bold claim, given the circumstances, is laughable. You have not held the titles for any significant amount of time. You have not defended them against anyone at all, let alone anyone intimidating. You won them from a team that evaporated the moment that they lost the titles. To top it off, you expect people to actually commend you. How can you expect us to believe that a team that bailed right after, actually gave you anything close to all they had in that fight?”

Kris interjects with the truth, as they see it.

Kris: “You two were given an early Christmas present from a couple of guys that wanted to unload the straps. You were just the first in the queue when the time came.”

Jason: “The difference is, that kind of thing only happens once in a lifetime, not twice in a year. We are not going to do you any favors. We are not looking to get into this division for just a single night. Last time I joined a company, I took a title that nobody had defended more than twice, and held it exponentially longer, and defended it multiple times more than anyone before, or after me. That is the story that Jet City is about to write into the SCW tag team title history.”

The way that they transition between which one of them is talking is seamless, but does not sound over-rehearsed. As soon as one of them stops, the other immediately launches into a continuation of the verbal assault.

Kris: “We are not going to foolishly claim to be anything that we have not earned. We haven’t been in a title match as a tag team, let alone won one. What we have had is a handful of matches as a team, where we worked out the kinks and never suffered a loss. From the sounds of it, the record for The Elders doesn’t have such a favorable win/loss ratio.”

Jason allows the quick jab to hang in the air for a second before he takes over.

Jason: “What does all of that mean? Not a goddamn thing! We may never have lost as a team, but we haven’t done anything great. The Elders may have beaten a lot of teams here in SCW, but that list does not include us. Our records, history, accomplishments, and problems as individuals, and as a team, have no impact on this match. It is all just background noise. The same way that The Elders running through tag teams in SCW before now means absolutely nothing to us. You are the tag team champions at what can only be described as a low point in the SCW tag team scene. You have said it yourselves. You need fresh faces. We are the fresh faces.”

Kris holds up both hands in innocence and tries to walk back a little of the hurtfulness of Jason’s comments.

Kris: “We are not trying to take anything away from your title reign. You have done something that we never have. That would be impressive, except for we have never had the opportunity before now. You beat a great team to get those titles, but a great team on the way out is hardly something to brag about. You have beaten all the competition, but you have blatantly said that you were refreshed by us showing up and injecting some real competition into a stagnant division.”

Jason: “Your current situation works to contradict everything that you say. In forty-eight hours, one of two things is going to happen. You could go on to validate your title reign with a win over a fresh team. You do that, and you take a step towards maybe becoming one of the best teams that SCW has ever seen.”

As usual, Jason brings the positive only for Kris to deliver the negative.

Kris: “Or you are going to lose, and your greatest contribution to SCW is going to be the awesome jokes that we lay out in our promo next week as the new SCW Tag Team Champions. Believe me, it’s true, we have already been writing them….”

Jason reaches out and slaps Kris for giving away too much.

Jason: “You say that the pressure is on us to prove ourselves. You could not be more wrong. See, as the new team on the block, not having wrestled a match in the last six months, going against the tag team champions, we have no chance…. On paper.”

Kris: “We are unproven, rusty, and as new as we could possibly be. How embarrassing would it be for you to lose to us?”

The two now wear almost identical smiles, that grow wider with each passing comment.

Jason: “On the other hand, when we beat you, you look incredibly silly. All of those things about running the division become punchlines. Your names in history become a placeholder between teams that actually mean something. The things we said about The Elders beating a team on the way out, become fact, not opinion. You will go down as a team that dropped the titles without having the ability to defend them, at a time where the tag team division was at its weakest point. When you two lose those titles Sunday, you lose everything.”

They both look at each other, nodding before staring back into the camera.

Kris: “And when we win, we hit the ground running and become the team that is going to lead this division out of the dark times and back into the spotlight.”

Jason laughs.

Jason: “Strap in guys. We are taking SCW for a ride.”

Kris holds out a closed fist to his brother, the smug look on his face telling everyone what he is going to say before he says it.

Kris: “Jet.”

Jason hits his brother’s closed fist with his own.

Jason: “City.”

70
Supercard Archives / ELDERS (c) v KRIS & JASON HALC
« on: November 10, 2016, 02:10:28 PM »
 The scene opens with a small auditorium, almost full to capacity. Most of the chairs in front of the stage are filled with fans, with only the front row filled with individuals in suits, and carrying legal pads to write down comments. The house lights start to dim, and stage lights come up, shining light on the two podiums that are on the stage. Through the PA system of the room crackles a little, and then the booming voice of Jason Halich, giving his best impression of an action movie voice over guy comes through.

Jason: “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, bitches and hoes, crackers and dark chocolates, and anyone in between….”

The sound of a slap can be heard through the speakers, followed by the sound of a scuffle. The microphone being used makes the shuffling sound of two people fighting over it; before Jason’s poor impression is replaced by Kris’ attempt.

Kris: “In two weeks’ time, our heroes, the dynamic duo known as Jet City, will step into the Galen Center, in beautiful Los Angeles, California to challenge Jon “Pillsbury” Dough and Eyesnsane for the SCW Tag Team Championships...”

The microphone again changes hands, and Kris’ voice is replaced with Jason’s.

Jason: “So… without further ado, we give you, the multi-time world champion “Jack of Hearts” Jason Halich, and the semi-successf---”

Much like the first time the microphone changed hands, Jason’s voice cuts off and there seems to be a struggle. Kris again wins the battle, and with it, the ability to introduce himself.

Kris: “The former SCW Internet Champion and the only half of the team to actually win an SCW match in his career! He is “The Accident” Kris Halich!”

The two voices join together now, on the same page for just a single moment.

Jason & Kris: “WE ARE!”

The fans in attendance know this part, and chime in at the same time as Kris goes solo with their own animated screams.

Kris: “Jet!”

Following that, the deeper voice of the older brother joins the fans for the next line.

Jason: “City!”

The two brothers step out from behind the curtain at the back of the stage, each accompanied by their significant others. Kris is dressed in a ridiculous zebra striped suit and bowtie, but the smile on his face and “Queen’s wave” shows that the wardrobe choice was entirely intentionally insane. Jason’s was equally bizarre, coming out in a Leopard print suit that severely clashes with absolutely everything in the room. However, the eyes of most everyone in the room zeroed in on the two women, half expecting them to be dressed as eye candy, and seeming entirely confused to see them dressed in jeans and matching black hoodies, of which Heather’s reads “Jet!” and Jules’ reads “City”, matching them to the brother that they accompany. The four of them pause on the stage, for photos that everyone in attendance struggles to steady their cameras to take. The laughter in the room is exactly what the duo had been hoping for. The two women depart the stage, taking seats at a table, with their backs to the crowd. Two cameras are set up behind them, and are linked to two screens behind the podiums. Jason and Kris both move to the one on the left side of the stage, whereas the one on the right stays empty.

Jason: “First of all we would like to apologize on behalf of our opponents, The Members of the Elders. They extend their apologies for not being able to attend this afternoon.”

Kris leans into the microphone, and clarifies his brother’s statement.

Kris: “Of course, it is probably our fault for forgetting to invite them until two minutes ago.”

Jason kind of gives his brother a shove out of the way, to take control over the microphone again, extending further clarification.

Jason: “Via text message…”

It is Kris’ turn to return the shove, and he finishes the statement, delivering the punchline that actually draws the laugh they were setting up from the crowd.

Kris: “And to be honest we turned off our phones after, so we are totally not even sure if they responded, nor do we actually care. See, we have gathered here today to--”

Jason bumps Kris away from the microphone in mid-sentence, but picks up exactly where his brother left off.

Jason: “...to talk to all of you about the state of Jet City. It was just two weeks ago when I called my younger brother, and convinced him to come out of his early, pathetic excuse for retirement in order to do one thing.”

Kris does not even try to hide the shove, nor do so nicely, as he jabs both of his hands into his brother’s near side shoulder and chest, sending him off balance and back a few feet, away from the podium.

Kris: “What my brother is trying say is that he was finally considering leaving his house after a couple of years of self-pity and depression, but realized he was much too old to mount a comeback all by himself. Instead, he knew that the only way that he was going to be a success was to find a young, talented, able-bodied…”

Jason now returns the shove from his brother with equal force, but being that he was the larger and taller of the two, doing so sends Kris stumbling to the center of the stage, and he falls down to a single knee. He gets up, irate, and points a finger at his brother.

Kris: “You are a spotlight stealing dick!”

Jason steps away from the podium and comes face-to-face with his brother, the two now screaming, without need for a microphone for the entire room full of people to understand them.

Jason: “To say you are talented is an insult to talented people like me!”

Kris was not one to back down from a fight though.

Kris: “Talented like never having defended any of the handfuls of titles you ever won!”

Jason gasps, but at this point the people in attendance can tell that the fight is totally staged, as Jason issues Kris an open-handed slap that does not connect at all, yet the resounding sound is heard as Kris claps his hands and turns away.

Jason: “At least I can say that I have won more than one, and even at that, more prestigious than an ‘Internet Championship’ whatever that is.”

Kris returns an equally fake slap, and Jason falls back into the podium. Kris brushes the front of his suit off and takes a step towards the podium.

Kris: “Well there is only one way to settle all of this!”

He reaches out to the Jet City sign and rips it in half, before sticking the “City” sign back to the podium. He takes a few steps away, removing the sign for The Members of the Elders, and sticking the “Jet” half of the sign to the podium, gaining wide cheers from the fans.

Jason: “We will just have to see about that!”

The crowd is applauding both men for the show, but Kris and Jason ignore them, their words coming through microphones.

Kris: “Oh, we’ll see!”

Jason nods in agreement, but refuses to let his brother to get the last word.

Jason: “I guess the only thing left to do, is see!”

Finally, both women behind the moderator’s table speak into their microphones at the same time, yelling at their respective brother in unison.

Heather & Jules: “Shut up!”

Almost as if being yelled at by angry parents, both men slam their mouths shut and look down at the podiums. The two girls look at each other smiling, and chatter back and forth with one another about how awesome it was that they were almost perfectly harmonized in their command. Both brothers, look up from the podium slightly, only raising their heads high enough so that their eyes can meet the gaze of the women in front of them.

Jason & Kris: “Sorry….”

They sounded exceptionally melancholy, and at least half of the members of the crowd seem to legitimately buy their apology. Jules and Heather talk over what they are going to do in order to get the event back on track, before agreeing on the order of questions. Jules turns to her microphone, while Heather sits back in her chair slightly.

Jules: “The first question of the night is for Jason and comes from…”

She points behind her, to the crowd, without turning to actually locate the individual she references.

Jules: “One of those guys… Jason, with your brother’s long history in the company, none of it being particularly positive, why would you bother trusting that he is going to be able to pull himself together long enough to get the job done at High Stakes against two men that only won the titles a little more than two weeks ago.”

Jason smiles widely, and nods to Jules in approval of her perfect delivery of the question.

Jason: “I can answer that question in three short, easy-to-follow points. Firstly, I would like to thank you for your question and say that despite the lack of revealing clothing you decided to wear this evening, you look absolutely delicious. Secondly, there are only two people in this world that are capable of keeping my brother in line, and only one of them has a penis… I think.”

He looks back and forth between Kris and Heather for confirmation, and both give him a subtle nod.

Jason: “That individual is me. I have taken care of this man child for all 27 years of his life, and will likely continue to do so long after we leave this business. If anyone can get the best of the best out of him inside a ring, that person is me. Finally, the team of Jet City is not completely new. Before we both left the business for a while, we competed in a couple of tag team matches in small promotions, and we have yet to lose a match as a team. I think that makes us more than capable of handling a team that is fresh into their championship run.”

The response gathers light applause from the audience that dies out pretty quickly. Heather does not allow time to be wasted before getting to the next question.

Heather: “Our next question comes to us from the user @DefinitelyNotKrisMakingUpFakeQuestions on Twitter, which seems like an unnaturally long, but legitimate, Twitter handle. The question reads: Kris, it is a widely known fact that your brother is, indeed, old as shit. Are you concerned that maybe he has lost a step, or could possibly break a hip during your match?”

This time the crowd becomes a little more unhinged as Jason glares across the stage at Kris. He holds up his index finger, and mouths the words, “That is one” to Kris before the younger brother even attempts to answer the question. Once he starts though, it is obvious that he is going to take a much different approach than his brother.

Kris: “I could take the diplomatic approach and go step by step, and lay out some bullshit pretty language in an attempt to only partially answer the question. The problem is, I am not a politician, and that seems like a lot of wasted effort. What I can say is my brother is by no means past his prime. Granted, he is a little older, and a little slower than I am when it comes to getting around the ring, but he is more than talented enough, and his technical skills are sharp enough, that things like that do not put the team at a disadvantage. When we need to take the tempo up a notch that is when I catch the tag and get things moving. When we need to catch a breath and start dismantling body parts, we put let the veteran do his thing. Tag teams are about balance, and we have that pretty much down to a science.”

Again, a light bit of applause comes from the crowd, slightly more powerful than the response given to Jason’s answer. Kris taunts his brother by licking the end of his index finger before drawing a tally mark in the air, giving himself the first round win. Jules makes sure that his celebrating is only momentary though, turning the attention back to Jason.

Jules: “Jason, you are making a debut in SCW, in a title match no less. How are you handling the added pressure involved in not having a few matches to get your form back before being thrown into the fire?”

Kris rests both of his elbows on the podium, and rests his chin in the palms of his hands, his fingers outstretched onto his cheeks and tapping lightly. His eyes widen, and he stares at his brother in a way that makes everyone a little uncomfortable, in an attempt to throw him off his game.

Jason: “Now, I do not expect everyone here today, or even everyone watching SCW programming to be familiar with my history. In addition, it would be uncharacteristically cocky of me to name specific names and times of accomplishments from my past. However, what I will say is that this is not the first time that I will be stepping into a company for a first time, and competing for a title when the bell rings. Four years ago, I did just that, and I walked out victorious. From that moment, I went on to hold that title for longer than anyone before or after me, and defend it more times than anyone in company history. My asshole tag team partner made mention, incorrectly, that I had never successfully defended any of my previous championships, so I am happy to have been afforded the opportunity to correct the error. We can hardly judge him though, as substance abuse has destroyed most of his memory.”

The fans do not applaud or cheer this time. Instead, most collectively yells out “Ohhh!!!” in response to the dig at Kris. The younger of the two brothers sits up from the podium, and the buffoonery has faded from his expression. It is his turn to point at his brother, and then hold up an index finger, signifying that the comment was his brother’s first strike, making them even. He turns the glare from Jason to Heather, who speaks up with the next question.

Heather: “Kris, you have had success in SCW, but never at High Stakes events. In fact, you have never even had a match at the venue, despite appearing. In fact, it could be argued that, for the majority of all of the time you have spent in SCW, you have not done anything noteworthy. In your first few runs, you attempted, and were unsuccessful in winning the Roulette Championship. Finally, you won the Internet Championship, but lost it a short time later and then left the company citing hatred of the travel schedule. As a man with a wife, child, and child on the way, is it really worth it to return now?”

Jason holds his hand over his mouth to cover the fact that his jaw dropped open in response to the question. Kris looks absolutely dumbfounded, and attempts to form an answer, before shaking the question off momentarily.

Kris: “May I ask who sent in this question?”

Heather shakes her head nonchalantly.

Heather: “You may not.”

Jason actually has to turn away from the cameras to hide his laughter at the exchange between husband and wife. Both brothers focus on Jules, who leans back in her seat a little, and points a finger of blame at Heather, hoping the woman did not see her do so. Kris’ eyes dart back and forth across the stage, trying to put together an answer to a question that they had clearly not planned for. He looks up at Heather, who gives him nothing but a blank stare, that she internally struggles to maintain, but it does not outwardly show.

Kris: “In all honesty, I do not think that my personal life is--”

Jason finally manages to regain his composure and learns into the microphone, joining the attack on his brother by cutting him off.  

Jason: “Do not pussy out, man! The fans deserve an answer to the hard hitting questions!”

Kris opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking from Heather, to his podium, and then to Jason. He holds up two fingers to his brother now, signifying a second strike, and increased frustration.

Kris: “When I left this company the last time, I did not have anyone in my life that was important enough to bounce decisions of this magnitude off of. I was impulsive and reckless in everything that I did. Because of that, my win/loss record is not great. I would show up under the influence of substance. Even when I was sober, I would phone in my performances in order to simply collect a paycheck and leave. I was not serious about this career choice, I just wanted the money. The problems that I had, at the time, made traveling around the world inconvenient. As I have mentioned, more than once, I have come back now to make those things up to this company, the people on the roster, and the fans, all of whom deserved better. However, if anyone thinks that I did so without speaking to both the mother of my child and my beautiful, pregnant wife, then they are surely mistaken. I would not be standing on this stage without her blessing and support.”

The fan reaction to this answer is unmistakably the loudest thus far in debate. Kris comes out from behind the podium and actually leaps off of the stage, planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek and taking a bow before the crowd who seem pleased at the way he dug himself out of a pretty deep hole. Jason even puts his hands together, and gives his brother a congratulatory nod. Upon reaching his podium again, Kris holds his hand out to the crowd, waving for them to quiet down so the event can move on. Once they do, Jules clears her throat, and get Jason’s attention.

Jules: “Jason, while your brother’s personal battles have always been in the public eye, yours have never been addressed by the media. You have left this business a handful of times as well. The ways that you have done so have not exactly been any better than your brother. For instance, you once faked a car accident in order to get out of a contract. You suffered tragedy in your personal life which led to stepping away for a couple of years. Most recently, you started a company, which failed miserably, and you left the public eye to avoid association with now incarcerated members of the company. Can anybody actually trust that you are here for the long run, being that you do not have the same motivation for redemption that your brother does?”
It is Kris’ turn to cover his mouth, and Jason’s turn to be blindsided. He raises his left hand to his chest and exhales heavily, acting as if he was stabbed by her words. He is able to downplay his shock a lot better than his brother was, and finds an answer a lot more quickly as well.

Jason: “I do not have the motivation to fix my mistakes, because I simply do not make mistakes when it comes to this business.”

Jason pauses for a second, allowing the confidence in his words to sink it. It does not get the chance though, as Kris interjects.

Kris: “Bullshit!”

Kris tries to cover the accusation as a cough, and even goes as far as to slap his chest a few times with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. He shakes his head and tries to brush it off as nothing.

Kris: “I am so sorry. I had a tickle in the back of my throat… or something.”

Jason tries to set his brother on fire with his gaze and is disappointed when Kris does not burst into flames. Instead, he settles for holding up two fingers and then pointing at his brother, making them even once again. He turns his gaze away from Kris and back to the crowd, not allowing the distraction to derail his answer.

Jason: “The car wreck happened, but was exaggerated to get myself and my fiancée at the time out of our contracts. I experienced the death of my daughter shortly after, and that derailed any thoughts of a comeback. Then, I invested my money in a project with a tone of potential, only to have a thug and criminal show his true colors when it was found that he was manipulating everything in front of, and behind the cameras in order to benefit himself. In all of those situations, leaving the public eye was for the best. For one reason or another, it needed to be done. Whether that was to pursue a relationship, grieve for the loss of a child, or distance myself from a criminal investigation, it needed to be done. Now that all of those situations are resolved, I am back to do the thing I want to do most in the world. If something important enough comes along, would it create an issue? Maybe. I refuse to promise more than I can deliver. What I can say is, I do not foresee it happening, and I think SCW is stuck with me for a long time.”

Jason waits for some kind of applause to radiate through the crowd, but gets a complete lack of response. The individuals in the front row of the auditorium are scribbling down notes on their pads of paper, now that a legitimate question had been asked. Heather turned slightly in her chair, not wanting to infringe on them getting the information down, but not wanting to hold up the show.

Heather: “Kris, I think we can all agree that we have asked some hard hitting questions, but mostly have chosen to keep it light. What we have not yet brought up, is the subject of The Members of the Elders, or at least not directly. Do you have a message you want to relay to them?”

Kris nods a few times, and brushes his index finger across his bottom lip, trying to organize his thoughts.

Kris: “I think that I can say a few words, sure. All joking and whatnot aside, these two are probably pretty formidable. The Doughboy is a three time tag team champion, and I am pretty sure that is with three different partners. In everything that I have seen, the guy probably forgotten more about technical wrestling than I will ever spend time learning. Granted, I have an excuse now. I wouldn’t want to step on Jason’s toes or turn our match into a constant one-up battle. Our style works because we are so very different. Eyesnsane just had a parking lot brawl match. Now, the dude may have not walked out of it with a victory, but he also did not get his ass handed to him. The guy held his own in the match, and quite honestly fights a lot like me. So we have equal match ups, regardless of which of our opponents is legal. On the other hand, I think that the opposite is also true, and that we have the advantage in the mismatches. One thing is certain though, as good as Dough might be in tag team situations, with a handful of partners, my brother and I have been working and training together since we were teenagers. I think that gives us an edge.”

There is light chatter about Kris’ comments in the crowd, and the two brothers share a glance at each other, nodding. Jason leans forward into his microphone and asks Jules a question for once.

Jason: “I have something that I would like to add, if possible? Unless you had another question.”

Jules: “Well I did have another question, but it was exactly the same one we asked Kris, so go ahead.”

Jason rubs his palms together over top of the podium, and then pulls his microphone off of the podium, holding it up to his lips. He steps around to center stage, and looks out to the crowd.

Jason: “In the spirit of total transparency, I think we can all agree that this whole shtick up here was meant to be more fun and light spirited than anything else. Sure, our significant others have tossed to hard questions at us, but even our responses and efforts have been to keep you guys entertained. Mr. Pillsbury, Jon Dough, seems to have a similar outlook on his craft. He is good at what he does, but wins and losses do not matter to him. Eyesnsane, I am not entirely sure about. There is significantly less information about him available to us, or maybe I am just not digging deep enough. The main thing that I want to get across is that despite the way that we have acted, The Members of the Elders should not make the mistake of thinking that we are taking this whole thing lightly. We are very serious about this match, and every other one that we are going to be involved in with this company. We do not come in, and do things halfway.”

Jason pauses and turns to his brother, to mimics him in ripping the microphone off of the stand and coming to the center of the stage.

Kris: “I have echoed the same kind of statement every time I have spoken about a return. I understand that I am notoriously flakey and unfocused so maybe when the words come out of my mouth; everyone blows them off, which is the reason that I am going to have to keep repeating them over and over again. I care about people putting on a great show. I care about the product. I care about proving myself. Not very many people know, given my brother’s level of success as compared to my own, but this was never his dream or his goal. This was never his plan. This life was something that I wanted since before I was old enough to make it a reality. I wanted to be the one in training every day, and he got dragged along for the ride. When I went down a bad path, he kept pushing to keep that dream alive for me. Now we are here, together, so that I can take it back for myself.”

Jason shakes his head and dismisses the last part of what his brother says.

Jason: “You have a lot more work before you climb out of my shadow. You may have been the one to conceive the idea, but I made it the reality that we live in today.”

Kris: “I think that---”

Jason reaches over and slaps the top of the microphone, which forces it to slide out of Kris’ hand.

Jason: “Nobody cares!”

It hits the stage hard, and then rolls forward before falling off of the stage and onto the moderators’ table. Jules quickly scoops it up, and pulls it close to her chest, shaking her head and denying Kris when he asks for it back.

Jason: “The path that we are going to carve through SCW is not one of individual notoriety or accomplishment. Jet City is not some partnership to arbitrarily be thrown away when we feel it is time to rise above the group and make a run as individuals. We have done that. We have been champions in the past. The thing that we have never done, but the thing that we are going to do in a little over a week, is win a championship together. SCW has given us the opportunity to do just that. We are not going to let them down. You may not exactly be cheering for us, often times you will probably boo us, but one thing that will never be, is bored by us.”

The people in the crowd actually start to rise up out of their chairs, in applause. Kris takes an exaggerated bow in gratitude at the ovation, and holds his hand out for Jason to hand him the microphone. Jason turns it over, waving to everyone in the crowd.

Kris: “Now we just have a couple of things we have to do before getting out of here, and if we could have your help doing so it would make us so very happy, what do you say?”

Crowd: “Let’s do this!”

They have prompted them to do deliver the line more than a handful of times before. Jason takes a step closer to his brother and puts his arm around his shoulders so that they can both speak into the microphone at the same time.

Kris & Jason: “WE ARE!”

Kris lowers the microphone and they separate. They move to opposite sides of the stage and yell out, accompanied by the crowd.

Kris: “JET!”

Jason: “CITY!”

Kris tosses the microphone underhanded to his brother, who raises it without hesitation. Almost instinctively, the fans quiet, knowing the event is coming to an end and knowing exactly what the next words out of Jason’s mouth are going to be.

Jason: “And for any of you that are fans of The Members of the Elders, you might want to go ahead and phone a ride home for them from the Galen Center, because they are going to need it.”

He tosses the microphone back to his brother, who holds it up.

Kris: “Someone call the ambulance! There’s gonna be an Accident!”

71
Climax Control Archives / Arguments and Airplanes
« on: November 04, 2016, 10:57:46 PM »
 October 29th, 2016
Los Angeles, CA
Kristopher Halich’s Loft
[Off-Camera]

Heather opens the oven and enjoys the wafting smell of her lasagna. It had been a while since they had a family dinner. Before it had been difficult given that Kris and Vi were not speaking to one another, and, of course, Xandor’s very straight forward approach to expressing his thoughts often caused rifts with just about everyone. However, Vi and Kris had buried the hatchet and Phillip was happy if his spitfire of a wife was happy. Tragically, Xandor’s death had been nearly a year ago, but everyone seemed to have turned out better for it. Surprisingly it was not at all awkward to see the oldest Cooper girl with Parker Wayde now. More than likely, anyone that had the pleasure of holding very adorable daughter would agree. The food, however, still needed a few more minutes, meaning the hosts were once again keeping everyone waiting, as per the tradition of every time they got together. Kris pushes his way through the door and into the room, rubbing his hands together in front of his mouth, wide-eyed.

Kris: “Lots of kids, and lots of people that I guess are technically family in there. How did I get to this point?”

He crosses the room to his pregnant wife, and places a hand on her lower back as she continues to work to get everything ready.

Kris: “Tell me that there is something that I can help with in here so that I can make an excuse to get away from all of the love in the other room.”

Heather rolls her eyes, and leans back against the counter next to the oven.

Heather: “Are Vi and Phillip still making goo-goo eyes? It's almost too sweet, like it's an act but I know it's not.”

She smiles, but shakes the image of them out of her head before it brings back the morning sickness.

Heather: “You can tell me how pretty I am, that always helps.”

He shivers lightly. It was more of a mental reaction that a physical one.

Kris: “You are insanely pretty. I still maintain that you are the best looking of all three Cooper girls, and that includes being pregnant. You have not lost the top spot. And you can trust me on that. I was just in there with the other two. They are fresh in my memory.”

He motions back towards the doorway.

Kris: “As for the people out there though, I do not know which couple is more strange. Violet and Phillip are so in sync that they are like one person. Which is weird considering that she is actually a few people all on her own. Parker and Amanda though, it is like they know how they feel about each other, but do not necessarily have to show everyone. It is like both ends of the relationship spectrum out there. Then again, you know Parker, so that should not surprise you.”

Heather smiles again, not being thrown off guard by Kris backhandedly bringing up their past relationship.

Heather: “Parker is more reserved and as much as we had chemistry, I think in the end I would have probably stabbed him in his sleep. He is the definitive boy scout of your group of friends. Amanda is the mature one, so it kinda fits. Parker was so sweet when X died. Everything...”

She puts a hand, not realizing it, to her small rounded belly.

Heather: “...happens for a reason.”

She moves forward, into him, putting her arms around his neck.

Heather: “As much as people have criticized our relationship. Given us both grief for the things we've done to finally be with each other, no one could compliment me the way you do. Arguably we are blind leading blind but on the other hand, you just... get me. In a way no one else but another addict could truly understand.”

She leans her forehead against his.

Heather: “It is all pretty easy to understand when you have been there yourself. I don’t think that it is just that though. We have both been through rough spots as kids, and as adults. We are haunted in eerily similar ways. We have the same kind of sense of humor. And we can occasionally blow up at each other, and understand that it doesn’t have to destroy everything.”

Kris nods in agreement with her, but gestures back towards the door.

Kris: “Then again, I am pretty sure that everyone out there could say the same thing about their relationships. I kind of wish that Jay was here to balance the equation. He can kind of play moderator to all of the couples with his drive to fly solo. It has been like two years since he and Haley separated, and he shows no sign of wanting any of the things that all of us have.”

Heather narrows her eyes, picking up on the way his voice changed as he neared the end of his sentence. It was eerily close to what happened when he was lying. Almost a dead giveaway that he was not telling the whole truth instead.

Heather: “What's in Boston though? He mentioned going there when I talked to him last week. He likes to check on me and the pregnancy.”

She then smiles, rubbing her belly again. Kris’ eyes widen a bit in surprise. He was caught in the net, and if he tried to wiggle out of it, her mother instincts would pick up on it immediately and she would rip him apart while the rest of the family listened and laughed at his misfortune.

Kris: “I was not actually sure that he was going to be going. And, try not to mention it out there. Violet might break things, because of the family ties. It is Jules’ birthday thing. He threw her a huge party for her 18th a couple of years ago. Then they kind of hung out for a while. I don’t exactly know what did or did not happen there. I guess that means he is leaving the house for once. Impressive.”

Heather giggles at the speed at which the near-confession comes out of his mouth. Despite the words, she had been around long enough to read through all the bullshit and hear the real story.

Heather: “Wow. I know you mentioned that he seemed to have more than a ‘brotherly’ relationship for her but you know what, good for him. And Jules isn't so bad. Kahlan’s the one with the temper.”

Kris shrugs, knowing that this time he could blow off the conversation without sounding like he was lying. If his brother was notorious for one thing, it was playing all of his cards very close to his chest.

Kris: “I do not presume to know how Jason feels about anyone other than myself. That dude is a puzzle, inside a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, locked inside a rubix cube, and kept inside Pandora’s box. I have no interest in trying to solve or open any of those things, let alone all of them. He is like the polar opposite of me.”

He does let out a heavy sigh though.

Kris: “I mean; the dude is 30. This is her 20th birthday. It is weird enough without him paying attention to what anyone else thinks about it, and that includes me, but he still sounded undecided about even going this morning when we talked.”

He seems to reconsider his line of thinking though.

Kris: “I was invited, but had to decline. Not that Jules probably even wanted me there. Probably thought it would be easier to get Jay there if I showed, but we had these plans for a while now. Parker and Amanda had already driven down. No point in ruining everyone’s night. Plus, I will see him soon enough either way.”

He surveys the kitchen full of food that is now starting to be close to finished.

Kris: “So, need help carrying this stuff into the other room? At this point, I assume that everyone in there is thinking we snuck away to have sex. Or maybe just bailed on them entirely.”

He seems to think over his words though.

Kris: “Which neither of those things seem like a bad idea. Think you could fit the pregnancy belly out the window in order to get down the fire escape?

Heather smirks, running her hand down his chest.

Heather: “Ummmmm… no. But, maybe the second of those two things could be possible before dessert. I might need help with the pie.”

He laughs for a split second, but then his eyes read hers to gauge if she is being serious or not.

Kris: “Don’t play with me woman. You know I will hold you to it.”

She reaches up with her palm and smushes it against his face without a response before turning to check on the food in the oven again. He moves away from her and to the food on the counter.

Kris: “What should I take in first?”

Heather: “The garlic bread. I gotta take the lasagna out of the oven and I will follow. I think everything else that we need is out there already.”

He grabs the two baskets containing the bread in one hand, and moves towards the door back into the dining area while muttering.

Kris: “Hopefully with sharp enough knives to end the night swiftly….”

Before he pushes through though, he grabs two bottles of wine off of the counter.

Kris: “Just in case….”

He pushes through the door into the dining area packed with members of the rest of the family. Parker and Amanda were sitting on the far side, with Phillip and Violet closest to Kris, albeit with their backs to him. He reaches between the two of them to drop the bread on the table, and then nods to Parker before tossing a bottle of wine across the table that Parker catches without effort.

Kris: “Food is coming. Then again I did just leave a pregnant woman alone with lasagna, so maybe it isn’t, and if not you’re all chipping in for pizza.”

Amanda shakes her head from the opposite side of the table.

Amanda: “Don't let her hear you say that; she'll probably kick your ass.”

She reaches forward to grab two pieces of bread, putting one on Parker's plate. She smiles.
Amanda: “You don’t want to wait until she comes in or it will all be gone. This is her mother's recipe and it's amazing.”

She gives Violet a wink and the other red head laughs loudly. Phillip immediately shifts in his seat when he notices that Kris has stopped, and is standing right behind him. He looks back over his shoulder to the co-host of the get together.

Phillip: “Do we really have to play this game every time we see each other?”

Kris fakes total innocence, and tries hard to focus on opening the bottle of wine in his hand. Parker, on the other hand, has popped the cork on the bottle he was handed and fake coughs to get Kris’ attention. Kris looks up, and then tosses the second bottle to Parker over Phillip’s head, which makes him even more uneasy.

Kris: “Relax Phil, I am not going to stab you or anything. You can trust me.”

The shortening of his first name grates on him for a moment, but he lets it pass. He had become slightly more accepting of it now that he hears it over and over again from Jason, Parker and, most often, Kris.

Phillip: “Trust you? And end up drugged and on a bus to middle America again?”

Kris shakes his head disappointed.

Kris: “I thought we chose to forgive and forget, huh? Why do you always have to try to hurt me?”

Heather: “Okay, okay boys.”

Heather enters carrying the pan with oven mitts.

Heather: “Play nice or not at all.”

She sets down the perfect pasta dish in the middle of the table, and beams.

Amanda: “It looks perfect Heather; you really have grown up.”

Amanda gives her sister a motherly smile.

Violet: “Yeah, I remember when she used to burn everything and set the place on fire, so good job.”

Kris cannot help but give a chuckle, and even joins in on the jokes.  

Kris: “She has to set multiple timers, in multiple rooms, every time the oven is on, or we would be eating some unrecognizable black mush from outside on the curb while firefighters tried to save people from the building.”

This brings an even wider smile to Kris’ face.

Kris: “Maybe that would be a good thing for Parker though. Looks like you packed on some baby weight there, dark chocolate.”

Parker does not miss a chance to fire back at the man who was practically his little brother, despite the fact that Kris was older by more than two years.

Parker: “You one to talk? Jay told me about your little comeback tour together. If you want to pull that off without looking like an idiot, you need to lose some of that sympathy baby weight.”

Phillip, who was learning how to play this game pretty well decided he could also chime in.

Phillip: “And you cannot really turn to drugs to shave off the pounds quickly. You will have to do it legitimately this time.”

The whole room seems to freeze in shock, everyone’s eyes moving back and forth between Phillip and Kris. Phillip turns in his chair to face Kris with a smile on his face, which deflates all of the tension in the room. Kris cannot help but smile, and points a finger at Phillip.

Kris: “You only get one of those a night. One more and I am going to hug you.”

The room erupts into laughter; however, one person remains stonily focused on Parker. Heather clears her throat.

Heather: “Comeback tour?”

Parker looks up to lock eyes with Heather, and then over to Kris who very gently shakes his head no. Parker looks over to Amanda, who eyes him, perfectly able to tell if the next thing out of his mouth is a lie, because he is terrible at it from lack of practice doing it. Violet turns from Parker, to Kris, knowing she could get any information she needed off of his face. Phillip sinks in his chair, suddenly wanting to be anywhere other than in between everyone. Parker stutters over a few words before finally spitting out the truth, unwilling to throw himself under the bus to save Kris.  

Parker: “SCW, right Kris? You and Jason are planning on kicking the dust off of Jet City. Or at least that is what he was trying to tell me before he got called for boarding the plane this afternoon.”

Before Heather can turn to see his reaction, Kris mouths some very curse-ridden threats at Parker as he speaks. Violet seems to catch part of them and they bring a slight smile to her lips before she presses it away. She could have stayed quiet to watch it play out, but instead chooses to poke a little bit.

Violet: “So I guess no one told Heather huh?”

Vi leans back in her seat, an air of smugness as she crosses her arms over her chest. She then leans into her husband, linking her fingers with his, in silent reassurance that he does not need to panic over the situation. Heather locks eyes momentarily with everyone, working her way around the group before getting to, and stopping on, Kris.

Heather: “So they all knew? Everyone knew and nobody said a damn word to me about it? You told my sisters before me, Kristopher?!”

She stood, shaking her head she drops her napkin on her still empty plate and storms off. The sound of the bedroom door slamming rattles pictures on the walls. Amanda is the first to break the silence.

Amanda: “Should we... leave?”

Kris moves around the table, holding up his hands to everyone.

Kris: “Nah guys, I will go talk to her. We have all this food though. No use in all of you leaving. Go ahead and start without us. I don’t want anything to go to waste. I will be right back.”

He announces he is leaving the room, but oddly does not make for the door. Instead he rubs the palms of his hands together, and moves around the table until he is within striking distance of Parker and quickly slaps him in the back of his head. Parker turns in his seat and shoves Kris backwards with one arm. He stops short of rising from his seat, as they both break into laughter. It actually draws a chuckle from Phillip, who seems to take Kris’ side.

Phillip: “I actually heard from Violet that it was happening.”

Kris eyes Violet next, who says nothing, but points across at Amanda. Following the path, her eyes lead him right back to Parker, who had announced getting the information from Jason in the first place. Kris points around to all of them, with a kind of ‘told you so’ look on his face.

Kris: “And you people wonder why I never tell you anything. You are the most gossiping mother fuckers I have ever met.”

He shakes his head, and now does move towards the door,

Kris: “Damage control time…”

He pushes the door open with his back, but stops, as Parker is still looking at him.  

Kris: “And don’t think you were just getting off with the one slap. Imma beat your ass.”

Parker: “Keep dreaming Q-Tip.”

Parker waves him away, as Kris exits and the four remaining in the room try to get on with the evening. Kris moves through the loft, to the master bedroom, and tries the handle, only to find the door locked. He had no idea why she still bothered doing so. He quickly produces a paperclip from the top of the door frame and twists it into the lock, pushing on the single cylinder that works the lock and then turning the handle. He makes sure to put the paperclip back on top of the door before slightly cracking it, so she does not see it.

Kris: “I would just like to point out the fact that I did not tell any of them anything, and would appreciate not being hit with any flying objects when I open the door. Deal?”

Heather: “Fine, whatever.”

He can hear the sob in her voice when it cracks though. He pushes the door open and steps through, sitting on the end of the bed whereas she has taken post at the top, with a pillow on her lap.

Kris: “I have not mentioned anything to you, because nothing is set in stone. If you recall, not even ten minutes ago I told you that I was talking to Jason this morning. That is what we were talking about. We were kind of tossing around ideas, but it is not anything more than that right now. It would be at least a week before anything solid happened. Plenty of time for us to discuss it before any papers get signed.”

Heather: “How is it that this information got around my family this quickly yet neither of my sisters said a word to me? Do all of you still think I'm so fragile? I would never dream of breaking sobriety, pregnancy or not.”

He shrugs, and tries to find words to blame the people outside of the room, and even on the other side of the United States. He slams his mouth closed though, knowing that it will all boil down to it being his fault in the end anyways. He should have said something, and hadn’t, but it was not without reason. Instead of making excuses though, he sits down next to her, and says the only two words that she needed to hear from him right now, and he knew them well.

Kris: “I’m sorry.”

She puts her head on his shoulder. Before the start of this year, she would have never to expected an apology without a fight, or excuse first. That alone was worth letting him skate.

Heather: “Why didn't you mention it anyway? Even if it was just an idea? I'm not upset that you want to go back in a ring. I'm upset that you didn't even mention you thinking about it. You know I support you no matter what.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and then rests his head on hers.

Kris: “Honestly, I was not even really thinking about it until Jason started pushing for it. He kind of gave me this idea that it would be good for my recovering. I put myself out there just to get a rise out of people, and a paycheck. I didn’t care about the quality of what I was doing, or putting on a good show. I was messed up two-thirds of the time I was out there. Jason started telling me about how I have worked to fix so many of the mistakes that I have made, and this is just one more that I could atone for.”

He lets out a light sigh.

Kris: “Plus, with another baby coming. Waverly being around whenever we can get him. It would be kind of nice to bust my ass doing this so that we could not have to worry about lack of income. I could make things right with the world, make some money, and then put it all behind me for good this time. No regrets.”

He gives her a nudge to sit up, so that he can look her in the eyes.

Kris: “I also didn’t want you thinking that being here with you was not enough and I needed an escape from it all. That could not be further from the truth. I want to kind of stay local as much as possible. And even have you come with me as often as you can.”

She brings a hand up to either side of his face.

Heather: “Just please, next time, even if it's just a musing. Tell me first. Especially when it comes to our blended family. I would rather hear it from you first so we can talk about it.”

She nods, silently prompting him to do the same. When he does, she offers a smile, and a threat that comes out almost sweet.

Heather: “Or I will blame pregnancy hormones and stab you in your sleep.”

She leans forward to kiss him. He meets her halfway, so she does not have to lean over her growing belly. When they separate, he tries to ease any hesitation that she might be hiding, given her initial reaction.

Kris: “The moment that you think my doing going back is making being married, or being parents too hard, I walk away from it. You know I get short-sighted and can easily get so focused on one thing, that I don’t notice things going wrong in other parts of my life. The first time my going back to this negatively impacts you or the kids, and I am done with it. Deal?”

She gives him a soft smile and a nod, both of which he returns.

Kris: “Now, I believe we have food to go eat, and at least four gossipy family members to murder. Do you think that you are up for that?”

Heather: “If there is anything left. This is a family of vultures I swear!”

==============================================================
==============================================================

November 4th 2016
Santa Barbara, CA
Santa Barbara Municipal Airport
[On-Screen]

Kris and Jason Halich step off of their charter plane, and start to move down the steps, Kris talking over his shoulder to Jason, despite the cameras not picking up what is being said. Jason promptly reaches forward and slaps Kris in the back of the head, which draws only a laugh from the younger brother as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. As the two find their feet on the ground for the first time in a few hours, they are swarmed by a handful of interviewers. It was all Jason’s doing, as he had to greenlight people even being let through security, and had probably offered them big news that they simply did not have. Since suing Cody Taylor, and taking back all of the money invested into the failed company known as Pride Pro Wrestling, Jason had become sort of a public figure. It did not help that the two were flying around on the former co-owner’s plane, and, in doing so, appearing to live well beyond their means, or really even most people’s means who worked in this business.

Kris continued walking as they got to the ground, heading towards the car that was picking them up to take them to their hotel, but Jason was swarmed with camera flashes and little microphones shoved in his face. He quickly worked his way through them, and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, stopping him from escaping and spinning him around to face the camera. Some of the interviewers tried to squeeze in another word, but Jason cut them off.

Jason: “Ladies and gentlemen, for twenty-seven long years, I have had the genuine displeasure of knowing the man to my right. I have seen him in diapers. I have seen him shit himself. I have seen him graduate from high school. I have seen him win a championship in the company we step into this Sunday. However, I have only seen one of those things happen this week.”

Kris elbows his brother and shrugs his shoulder, pushing Jason’s arm out from around him. The interviewers enjoy a laugh at Kris’ expense, but Jason cuts it off short by continuing to speak over them until they stopped attempting to talk.

Jason: “Truth be told, Jet City coming to SCW is not the big news of the week that I told all of your bosses that I was going to give. Namely because, that was all bullshit. I have nothing at all to tell any of you, and if any of you so much as ask me about a personal relationship, or my recent trip to Boston, I have been told by all of your employers that they will erase any tape of me feeding you a camera against your will.”

The interviewers start to chatter amongst themselves, likely considering leaving due to the fact that there was no big scoop here, but Jason shoves Kris forwards towards the grouping.

Jason: “That is not to say that my very own pants-shitting little brother does not have something that all of you should listen to as it regards Ryan Keys, SCW, and our future plans.”

Even the people turning to leave seem to stop as Kris is shoved forwards. He pulls his Clippers hat off of his head, and throws his sunglasses into them before handing it off to Jason. The interviewers seem to make a circle in front of him, not seeming thrilled but not wanting to have made the trip down for nothing. Kris was known to get himself into trouble in front of a camera, so for all they knew, there could be a story after all. He sighs, and throws his head back, being well out of practice of doing this kind of thing, and then licks his lips before starting.

Kris: “I made a little bit of a splash last week by announcing that I was going to be returning to the only company that I have ever won a championship in. However, the person that I did not credit with putting that idea into my head, was the man you all actually came to see. Now, regardless of if he convinced you to come under false pretenses or not, the fact that you are all here says something about what his coming back to this business means. We were able to put together a couple of wins in a small company a year ago before it closed. Then we put our names on a contract that never got processed in another company that closed. Truth be told, we didn’t show up here back then because neither of us thought that I was going to be allowed back through the doors. I have a terrible track record with SCW. That is something that I have owned up to, and even apologized for last week when I announced I was going to be back. I am a flake. I am unreliable. I am a former drug addict that has been documented as having done this job under the influence. So, when I see the majority of the people excited to see my brother is back, but disappointed that my name, and Jet City is attached to it, I understand. It is a normal, and valid reaction.”

He offers a shrug to everyone standing in front of him, and anyone watching from home on the cameras.

Kris: “I have apologized. I have explained myself. Last week I listed the reasons for my turn around, and laid out exactly why I was back. To rehash that for all of you would be a waste of your time and that is something that I said that I was not going to do anymore. For those of you expecting to see some kind of cookie-cutter, polite, version of me make a return and push the thoughts of the old me out of your mind, you are going to be very disappointed. I assume any of you thinking that didn’t bother to pay attention on Sunday when Jet City made their first real appearance for SCW. I am not going to promise to be a better person, or less of an asshole. The only thing that I promised the world, this company, and my brother is that I was actually going to give a shit about what I showed up to do, for the first time in my life. Believe me, I have taken a lot of beatings in my life, but the very worst of them, have almost exclusively come at the hands of the person that is my tag team partner these days. I wouldn’t dare waste his time, regardless of whatever horseshit lie I was feeding the rest of the world. The fact that he is standing her behind me should make one thing very obvious: this is serious.”

An interviewer moves forward, breaking the almost perfect half-circle that they had formed in front of the two brothers. Before he can get a word out, Jason steps forward and smacks the microphone out of his hand and then points a finger at the man.

Jason: “Shame on you! Back in line.”

Kris shakes his head at his brother and leans into his ear, exchanging a few words that are not picked up. Jason disagrees with whatever it is, and gestures towards the camera for Kris to continue.

Kris: “The first thing that I did when I put my name on the contract was ask SCW for some information. See, they have people that transcribe whole shows, and all of those files are kept by the company. It is pretty easy to run a search for references to an individual. The things that I found, were not surprising. In the time I was away, I paid no attention to this business. The last couple times that I did bother to show up, I did little more than suit up, work a match, and bounce. I had no idea the things that were said about me back then, and I wouldn’t have really cared to even find out. There was only one thing that mattered to me back then, and it definitely wasn’t any of this. If you want to look at some of the bad decisions, look no further than my knocking up Liz Smalls. Anyone dumb enough to saddle themselves with that woman for the next 17 years of their life couldn’t have been thinking clearly, am I right?”

This draws a chuckle from the interviewers, and lightens the overall tone of Kris’ voice. Up until now it seemed like he was listing off things that he was being forced to say, but at this point, his face starts to light up, and his demeanor is a lot less rigid, ala the Kris everyone knew.

Kris: “The roster has gone through a lot of changes since I was last here. There are a lot of new names and faces. Apparently I blew past people last week that I had no idea who they were, and they are kind of a big deal now. To those people, sorry not sorry. Get better and maybe you will be worth paying attention to. I cannot apologize for your lack of being a face worth knowing. For those that are still here from the last time I was, but not holding a championship right now: What the fuck have you even been doing? If you aren’t a success by now, maybe it is time to hang it up. After all, I have been gone for almost a whole year. If you are in the same place now as you were then, all while using my name as a punchline for the promos you drone on in before you go out and lose, what are you even still doing here other than collecting a paycheck?”

A few of the interviewers seem to cover their mouths, not wanting to be caught by other cameras either laughing or acknowledging their agreement with his words.

Kris: “I can’t really fault them though. I was once here to collect some money, piss people off, and be on my way. To ridicule them further would be the pot calling the kettle black…”

Kris turns to ask his brother another question that does not get picked up, and Jason nods to him before Kris turns to continue.

Kris: “After conferring with my brother, we have decided that I am allowed to say “black” because the majority of SCW is pretty monochromatically white so it clearly is not a race issue.”

Jason leans forward over Kris’ shoulder and interrupts.

Jason: “Remember kids, racism is wrong and the heat it generates is temporary so basically a waste of time.”

Kris again shrugs his shoulder and glares at Jason and he holds up both of his hands in innocence before taking a step back.

Kris: “I guess that just leaves me Ryan Keys to talk about, right?”

He turns back to Jason for confirmation, who looks down at the palm of his right hand. He holds up an index finger for Kris to give him a moment, before reaching down and producing a pen out of his pocket. He starts to make little checkmarks next to things he has written down, and then puts the pen away and his hand down. He gives Kris a silent, stone-faced nod. Kris turns back around, appearing annoyed as he does, but almost immediately turning on a large fake smile of genuine excitement.

Kris: “There is not a whole lot that I can honestly say about this kid. Honestly, he probably has a better shot at getting under my skin than I do at getting under his. I researched the guy, only to find out that he has lost a lot of matches. I watched some of his promos, and read back a lot of the transcripts to find a lot of staged bullshit that he tried to pass off as luck of the draw. He actually played 21 with himself, and dealt cards to all of his opponents, only to have a perfect speech drawn up at exactly the moment their cards were displayed. Color me unimpressed by your attempt at sounding off the cuff. Other than that there were a lot of keyhole references, I guess meant as a fun play on his name. At one point he said something about a key doubling as a gun, I don’t know I got confused by it all.”

He looks down and shakes his head for a moment.

Kris: “At the end of the day, there is a lot more that he can say about me than I can say about him. My time here is storied, and most of it does not paint me favorably in the least. The best thing that I can say for my benefit is that when I had the chance to win a title, I took it, and I won it. I even defended it once. It seems that this kid comes up short more than he has his hand raised. Despite it, he seems to have started with the attitude that I was lacking the last time I was here. In his own words, he is a fighter that wants to put on a good show. If you paid attention to anything that I said last week when announcing my comeback, you will hear me utter basically the same words.”

He holds up his hands, as to stop people from thinking that they are similar.

Kris: “Do not get me wrong. That is about where the similarities die. I know what it takes to win here, and to win big. I know what it is like to take a beating from people, and still manage to have a title to raise at the end of the night. In one of his promos he even apologized for cheating. Now all of you know that is not my style at all. I am never going to apologize for wanting to win, and not giving a shit what I have to get away with to do so. If you aren’t cheating, then you are damn sure not doing everything in your power to win. If you are dumb enough to get caught and disqualified, well then rest assured that you are not smart enough to compete against me on any level, let alone inside a ring, between a couple of bells, and for a few thousand people to watch.”

Kris nods, with a smile on his face, proud that he had not lost the ability to turn a phrase in his time away.

Kris: “Ryan, you are just a first step on my road to professional recovery sir. No amount of being the crowd favorite, poorly executed cheating, or even whipping it out and helicoptering it in front of me and everyone in attendance is going to stop me from winning this match. I could be wrong, because memory for me is awfully foggy at most points, but I do not think that I have ever lost a match in a debut, or a return. You will not be the person to change that. This is my--”

Jason again leans over Kris’ shoulder, this time to correct him.

Jason: “Our!”

Kris again shrugs his shoulder to push his brother off of him, and corrects himself without acknowledging his brother.

Kris: “Our time…. And I am pretty sure that there is only one more thing to say. In two days, someone needs to call an ambulance….”

Jason hands Kris back his hat and glasses, that he returns to the top of his head and face respectfully before offering a wide smile.

Kris: “There’s gonna be an Accident.”

72
Character Building Roleplays / Changes
« on: October 29, 2016, 01:59:53 PM »
 [Off-Camera]
October 23rd, 2016
Los Angeles, CA
Kris’ Apartment

A lot had changed in the last year. Almost too much for Kris to even get his head wrapped around. Two years ago, a lifetime of bad decisions had left him an addict with nobody willing to take a chance on him. Everyone that got caught in his wake ended up worse for it. To make matters worse, a year and a half ago, he was finding out that a female that he had planned to publicly humiliate was having his baby, a son that son that changed everything back in  March. Eight months ago, he was making a joke that broke up a relationship of someone he cared about too much to admit to anyone, including himself. Exactly five months ago to this day, he married his best friend. Today, that best friend is 23 weeks pregnant with a child of their own. A girl. Two years ago the only thing that he could think about was finishing whatever painting he was working on, and finding some way to get his fix without so much as a dime in his pocket. How could everything have turned around so quickly? Two years is all it took to wipe away twenty-five years of everything else. He was still standing, despite his best efforts.

Here he was, bringing home groceries to a pregnant wife, in a loft in the middle of a city that was starting to have more positive memories than negative. He was seconds from opening the door, seeing her smiling face, greeting his, now speed crawling, and dancing son, and falling into everything that he never thought he would be lucky enough to get. The childhood that did not allow him to be a child was a bad dream. The ghost that haunted him for far too long was now a smiling reminder that things can turn around. The drugs that used to dictate his every behavior, were little more than a low whisper in the back of his head. He no longer needed the negativity in order to block out those thoughts. He no longer had to pick fights in order to validate his existence. For once, he was happy, and hoping that everything he had put together in the last two years was enough to keep it that way.

That is why sticking the key into the door, and turning the handle to greet his family was not a hassle in anyway. Sure, madness would ensue the moment he opened the door. His son would need any of one hundred different things. Heather would need help with someone. Likely, they would probably argue about something he forgot to do, or did not do well enough before the end of the night. But, considering the alternative, pushing the door open was not something that even needed a second thought. Everything he wanted was inside.

“Hello…….” Kris closes the door behind him with his foot, trying not to do so loudly in case his seven month old miniature was asleep. He balanced the groceries in one hand as he moved across the living room and into the kitchen. He found the room empty, much to his surprise, but immediately started to put items away. His greeting had been sufficiently loud. Yelling, or otherwise being loud, would likely only cause an argument.

Heather heard his call. She double checked the boy she had grown to love like her own, brushing sandy blonde hair from his angelic sleeping face. Quietly slipping from the room, a feat not as easy as it used to be now with her new ballooned middle and slowly developing waddle. Kris was putting away groceries, his back to her and she can't help but have a little bit of pride swell in her chest. She’d won.

Yes it sounded bad in that context. She had beat the perfect, ever popular and equally hated Liz Smalls, the boy's mother. She had gotten back the only man that had ever understood her, and she knew that she was the same. Even her own half sisters never understood her like Kris. His way of keeping her sober was to give her an ultimatum. Using his own addiction as blackmail.

She slips in behind him, hoping to hug him from behind but her stomach rubs the small of his back first before her arms can reach around. He drops his arms down to cover hers rubbing them gently.

“I figured that Waverly was probably either about to fall asleep, or having just nodded out so I didn’t want to yell out for you. I think I got everything that we need for the next few days. Liz is not going to be around, so I am assuming he is going to continue being here with us. You know how she is…. Terrible at communicating unless it is about something that she needs anyone to do.” He finishes putting things away in the cabinets directly in front of him before spinning to face her. His hands drop to her ever-expanding belly. “How is this one doing today?”

“Feisty. Definitely half a Cooper.” She smiles but it's evident in her eyes that's she's tired. She reaches a hand up to caress his cheek.

“If she comes out with red hair we may have to worry. Kinda scary. Three Cooper girls and we all have girls. So far Lav & Mara both have red hair.”

He shrugs off the negativity of the idea, “The only other option we have is her turning out like me. Is that something you really want to have to deal with? We already have one in the other room that hopefully never grows into the 50% Liz Smalls DNA he carries. I doubt that our little girl will be more of a handful than he is going to end up being.”

“But look at how great Blade is, he’s a Smalls too. It's all about how he's raised and no Son of mine is going to grow up like she did. He's got a lot of great support Kris. That isn't going to happen. He is his own person. I can see that already.”

She rubs her bump, the only real evidence that she was even pregnant at all.

“We cannot be so sure. I mean his dad is pretty much the textbook definition of a fuck up and his mom is probably the single most selfish individual on the face of the Earth. The one thing that he has going for him is a step-mom that is actually pretty awesome. Let’s hope that most of the genes that he got from my side are the ones that Jason got. I think that would be for the best. You know, aside from the bad luck with wives dying and whatnot, but we really do not have to worry about that for a couple decades. If you so choose to keep me around that long….”

He places his hands over hers on her stomach, and then hunches down to be face to face with the baby bump. “What do you think, huh? Think I can somehow convince mommy here to put up with me for that long?”

There's a rumbling sound and Heather laughs. “Sorry to ruin the moment with my stomach rumbling. You came home with food at the right time. And...”

She gets a serious look on her face

“If I can wait and deal with your shittiness before we got together I think I can put up with it for a good long while longer.”

He does not pull his eyes from the baby bump. “See, look at her, trying to convince me that it is all stomach rumbling instead of you talking to me. She just doesn’t understand, does she? It is okay, we have lots of years to train her better once you pop out of there and join us.”

Smiling, he pulls himself back up to his feet and presses his lips to his wife’s forehead. “It will require lots of training, but we will get you there.”

“Ha Ha Ha, Kris.”

She reaches around to grab his backside, squeezing hard and smirking at him.

“I know what your idea of ‘training’ is. “

She eyes the grocery bags. “So what's for dinner?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know what kind of training the baby and I can give you that involves my backside. Granted, there is a ton of things that I can think of, just not baby related. I think this may be the very first time ever that you have been thinking sexually and I was not. This is a milestone. We should celebrate!”

He gives her backside a squeeze now, and smiles widely at her.

“The food thing is all on you. You are the one with the weird cravings and I am the one that has eaten dumpster food before and not incredibly picky. Pregnant lady’s choice.”

She smiles, “Don't worry, nothing weird today. Was thinking pasta.”

She moves from his arms and starts to pull out the things she needs.

“Are you still against all the names on my updated version of our names list?”
He laughs lightly, “I would not necessarily say that I am against any of the names that you put on there. I am not just particularly sold on any of them. I mean we have to look at her lovingly for the rest of our lives. I wouldn’t want to call her by a name that she shared with a stripper that threw me out of a club, or any of the porn stars you worked with. That would be awkward.”

She sighs. “That narrows the list significantly you know.”

She sets up a pot on the stove.

“What about naming her after someone we care about?”

He shrugs, “Well that would work. Do we have people that we care about? I mean I already have a baby named after me. Do we care about more people than just me?”

He has trouble keeping a straight face through his words.

“Maybe one of Jason’s dead wives? Or we could name her after Liz even. I mean if she was not so exceptionally bad, we may not have ended up together. We should send her a thank you card at the very least.”

Heather stops, looking over her shoulder at him. He attempt at being annoyed is short lived as she smirks. “Then should we send one to Kaden too?”

Again, he shrugs, not one to be shaken by sarcasm. “I am pretty sure he has a restraining order out on me, and I could probably get in a lot of trouble if we did.”

He gives out a slight sigh, and the tone of his voice changes, dropping the sarcasm altogether. “Your mom maybe? Or either of your sisters?”

“I think they would both kill me if I did. Neither were particularly fond of their names. Hence why Vi changed hers. And Angel was on the list. I believe you said it was like setting up a stripper pole in the nursery.”

“We could always name her after you….” He looks down at the floor. “I think I could get used to Honey Halich….” He tries to fight back the smile that just saying it brings to his lips.

She rolls her eyes, flicking some raw spaghetti noodles at him.

“You are still the only one in position of my only hetero video you know. Actually I was thinking someone else...”

She takes a deep breath. “What about Lindsay?”

His sister’s name knocks the air out of his lungs. She was mostly just a quiet voice in the back of his head pushing him to be happy for the both of them these days. However, for the longest time she was the driving factor behind not allowing himself to be happy in the least. The suggestion caught him off guard, and he struggled to find a way to address those feelings.

“So that is a no on Honey then?”

“If it's too hard, then it's fine. I thought maybe it would be a nice tribute to her. I know it's hard to talk about and...”

She sighs.

“Just pretend I didn't say it.”

He shakes his head.

“It is not that. Just caught me off guard.”

He clasps his hands in front of his waist and rolls his thumbs around each other.

“Is that something that you would be okay with doing? I mean… I have done some pretty terrible things when thinking about her is involved. The whole not wanting to get married. Never wanting to let anyone get close to me. Not wanting to be happy because she never got the chance to be. It is a lot. So is this just an offhand kind of thing, or something that you have been thinking about?”

She stops putting the pasta in the pot, but doesn't turn right away.

“Kris, your sister's death has been the catalyst for every moment in your life since it happened. Just like my step-father raping me was mine. I'm not saying you should celebrate either, obviously not. They're both horrible unspeakable things, but as much as they set us on our individual paths, and despite the pain it gave us, it was those things that eventually led our paths to cross.”

She finally turns.

“So yes, I have thought about it. I thought about it the entire time I fought the urge to drown myself in whisky and the waters of Laguna beach after you chose Liz. I thought about it when you accused me of not being loyal to you after and I thought about it the moment you comforted me when I was crushed by yet another man. Our story isn't a disney fairytale but it's ours. Do I wish it had been? Fuck no. Then we would be just like every other cookie cutter relationship that dies and falls in our... Circle? I don't even know what to fucking call that cesspool. Regardless in the end, all roads lead back to her. She didn't ruin your life though, you just tried to make amends for your mistake. Atone for it. Did you ever think that all you needed to do was forgive yourself? She probably wants you to let go and be happy and maybe, naming the baby after her will help you to feel that forgiveness too.”

She's nervous. Deep conversations were sometimes a hit or miss with Kris.

Hearing her out was always the easy part of the conversation. Heather always seemed to touch on what the little voices in the back of his head told him to do. His problem was that the rational voice, was the small one. The rest of him was the turn and run, and go nuclear to get out of these kind of situations. She was getting too close to the core of him. Anyone else would have been cut loose by now. In fact, she had been cut loose once before. At the same time, getting her back was the first time he had ever allowed himself to be honest about what he wanted out of life. The first time he allowed himself to value someone more than himself. He was much too invested to run at this point, and she had delved way too deep with her words for sarcasm to brush it off.

“Forgiving myself? It has never been a matter of forgiving myself. It has always been a matter of thinking that there was anything in me worth forgiving. Anything worth doing anything positive. Her accident laid down the path that I spent twenty years on. Telling you how I felt was a step off of that. Getting married was a big leap away from that. I no longer think that I don’t deserve happiness because she will never get the chance to be happy. Instead, it is just kind of my job to be happy enough for the both of us.”

He pauses and considers the name that they would be giving to their daughter. He already knew that this baby girl would probably be the one puzzle piece that snapped everything together and made running back to his old ways impossible. He had built a life. However, his marriage was still in its infancy. As much as his son meant the world to him, so far he was only able to be a part time parent because Liz had partial custody. This little girl was going to be the single thing that made his past life cemented as just that, the past. Why not build the barrier to the past with the one thing, that if changed, would have erased everything else?

“Let’s do it.”

Heather had seen that look in his eyes many times since they had been friends, lovers, even spouses. She knew all too well how internal struggle tugged at you. She knew that bringing her back into his life was a chip in that barrier he surrounded himself with. One of many decisions, unlike him, that had ultimately led to the crumbling and destruction of that wall. She knew him so well, yet still had so much still to learn about him. It made every day an adventure.

She smiles and steps in closer to him, looking up.

“You're sure?”

He laughs lightly, “About absolutely nothing in this world….”

He reaches out for her hand though, and once their fingers interlock her pulls her close enough to wrap his arms around her, pregnant belly and all.

“But I am willing to give it a shot.”

“I love you. I don't think I tell you enough. I love everything you are, even when we argue and I give you the silent treatment. I mean it could be worse, I could have an evil second personality or something?”

The dig at her sister was meant to reduce the overly mushiness of the moment.

“If we are made to compare the particular Cooper girl I ended up with to the other two, I think I won. One of them is not just a little crazy, but full on insane. The other one has just relentless banged Parker…. Oh… wait... “

Heather punches his shoulder, “Don't tell him this, but that stereotype about once you go black... Is just a stereotype.”

“Oh, I tell him that every single time he talks about having slept with my wife.”

He gives a light shrug of his shoulders though.

“We are all good as long as the baby does not come out looking any kind of chocolate though.”

“Not a chance. As weird as it is having your sister date your ex... They are good for each other and he's a great Dad to Mara. But we're getting off topic here. We just gave our daughter her name.”

“At least the name she will go by before turning 18 and requiring a stage name. Assuming that she takes after either of us in the least.”

The words come out as sarcasm, but it only takes a moment for the reality of them to sink in.

“We should consider locking her in a closet until she is 30….”

“Then she'll really turn out like one of us.”

She looks serious for a moment before chuckling.

“Do you ever think that we teeter on the border of either being really awesome, or really terrible parents?

“So far, I think we’ve done pretty well with KJ.  I love him to bits so I can only imagine how good it will be with Lindsay.”

She smiles.

“I know we all have our fears Kris, especially as parents but I think this is one area that we might actually not fuck up in.”

He kisses the side of her head, and nods in agreement.

“Hopefully…”


======================
======================


[On-Camera]
Kris’ Apartment
October 27th, 2016

Light comes through the window at the far end of the room, behind where Kris sits. He is dead center in the middle of his couch with nobody else around him. His laptop, with the camera already recording, is placed in front of him on the coffee table. He leans forward, towards it, his hands clasped together in front of his body, resting in his lap.

“Some people are, of course, going to ask why I am doing this to myself all over again. It is not as if this road I am taking has ever been especially profitable for me. I have enjoyed very minor success in a handful of places. I have earned a good chunk of money. On the flipside of that, I have lost friends, made dozens of enemies, ruined relationships, destroyed families, broken bones, and made an uncountable number of poor decisions for the sake of making an uncountable number of poor decisions. I left this line of work in order to escape these facts, and break the cycle of self-destruction.”

He sits back and sighs heavily, before running his fingers through his hair.

“I left and created a real life for myself. That is not to say that I did not have a life beforehand, but it was arguably not one worth living. In the last year, I put together the things in life that most people take for granted. I cleaned up my act and found normalcy. I have a wife, a son, a house, and all the happiness that I could ask for. These were all things I used to run from and push away when they got anywhere close to happening. I did not believe that I was deserving of this kind of life, so I went out of my way to deny myself these things. I never had normalcy in my life, not even from the start. If I didn’t deserve it as a child, as a teenager, as a young adult, my thoughts were that they had no place in my adult life.”

He rolls his eyes, looking almost sickened by himself. It was very clear from his body language that he no longer followed the same pattern of thought that he was describing.

“Instead of running to the things that I wanted, I ran towards conflict. Instead of building a foundation for myself, I sought out chaos. If I couldn’t find it, I created it. Whether it be through substance, women, or words every decision was aimed to create friction. My job of choice? Fighting. But fighting was not enough. Anyone can step into a ring, have a match, and feel good about their effort whether they win or lose. That was never enough for me. Not even a win was enough for me. I needed to manipulate, irritate, vex, enrage, or otherwise break down anyone that was scheduled to stand across from me. If that meant breaking up their relationships, so be it. If that meant poking and prodding at the tragedies in their lives, then it was just the price of playing the game. I needed everyone across from me to want to see me dead. I savored the rage within the beating more than a result at the end of the night. Every time the bell rang I needed to face an individual that I had made less than human by way of being a slave to their rage. Most nights, losing was actually preferable to walking out victorious. If they won, it was a result of my successfully twisting them up inside. The psychological game was more important that the physical.”

He pauses to collect his thoughts in order to put them in their simplest form.

“My life, my career, my every decision, has been atonement for things that were out of my control. The beatings, the harsh words, the broken bones, and everything that came with them was punishment. I created a situation where I was given what I felt I deserved. All of it was a fight I was determined lose everyday until the moment that I finally walked away.”

He laughs, but it seems to lack any real job at all.

“Stepping away was my first ever act of self-preservation. Before that, I led a life of tearing myself apart. Afterwards, I cleaned myself up. I allowed someone to finally get close. From that point, to this moment, the metaphorical snowball has continued to roll, gain momentum, and grow. Everything that I craved in life has started to fall into place. Relationships that were damaged have begun to be mended. Walking away, at the moment that I did, probably saved my life. That does not mean that there is not something significant, or important, that is still missing.”

He gives a look around the room, almost as if to check to make sure that nobody is eavesdropping before he lets scores of individuals watching in on some secret.

“A big part of any addict’s recovery is making amends and correcting mistakes. You are literally tasked with owning up to the personality flaws and bad decisions, no matter how small. The time I spent in this profession was littered with bad decisions, broken promises, and missed opportunities. Now, I have no delusions of grandeur. I could never set everything right, nor would I be welcomed back into many of the places that I have wronged. The only way that I can even make a dent in the negativity, is to come back and show everyone that I can do things the right way.”

He holds up his hands as if to stop an imaginary person from being able to interrupt him.

“Don’t misunderstand me though. This is not the kind of redemption tour that is going to be all hugs and rainbows. This is not going to be me coming back as the defender of all that is good and righteous. Rules will, as always, get bent or broken. Faces will get pimp-handed when they least expect it. People will be offended by the things I say and do. SmackShots will be distributed to previously unbroken jaws. Fans will probably end up booing more than cheering when my face lights up the screen. I am not promising to be someone that I am not. I am promising to show up, play my part, and for once, actually care about putting on a show worth watching.”

He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together in front of his mouth.

“So, for the first time in a long time, we have finally arrived at the one thing that is left for me to say.”

“I am Kris Halich.”

“Someone call the ambulance….”

“There’s gonna be an ACCIDENT!”

73
Climax Control Archives / Theres Gonna Be An Accident
« on: November 06, 2015, 06:21:40 PM »
  “When I took a break from SCW, I always knew that it was temporary. People, of course, gave me all kinds of shit about not wanting to travel. Let me ask you this though, after being jumped in Los Angeles on your best friend’s birthday, and then traveling across the world in very next day to defend a title, would you not be mentally and physically worse for wear? Would you not need a break? Would the flights, twelve hours or more at a time, not start to be painful? Despayre beat me fairly. He was the better man that night. I have no excuse for that. However, after that night, there wasn't anything left to stop me from going on hiatus. I needed time. I took my time. However, that time off was not something that went smooth. In reality, I got beat up more in my time away then I did while I was here. I was pushed from my comfort zone. I was taxed mentally and physically…. And it all started on the 21st of September. That is a day I will never forget, because that was the day that everything changed.”


============
September 21st

Kris arrived, not knowing what to expect and after knocking, Liz opened the door. The two made eye contact but nothing was said as she stepped aside, allowing Kris to step in. Liz was wearing one of the shirts Kris had left after their mutual breakup, it was big on her. She also had on shorts, but you couldn't see them because of the shirt. The puppies mingle by Liz's feet and begin sniffing Kris out, but aren't causing a fit because they remember him. Liz points to the couch.

Liz Smalls: "You wanna sit down?"

He looks at her, slightly confused by her pleasant greeting. He expected her to be angry, especially given the battle with Austen on Twitter.

Kris Halich: “Yeah, we can do that. You came across really weird in the texts. Did someone die or something?”

Liz Smalls: "No, O-M-G I would be in tears right now. Just...sit down."

Kris takes a seat, and Liz sits next to him on the couch, keeping her distance. The puppies cry wanting to join them but Liz doesn't pick them up.

Liz Smalls: "So, we obviously have a lot to talk about. I'm the first to admit I made mistakes before. As far as cheating, I've never done that. But I wasn't always the most pleasant person to be around, especially towards your friends, so first, I want to apologize."

She studies Kris' face, unsure of how he'll react to anything she says, especially given the twitter situation. He shrugs, not one to hold a grudge.

Kris Halich: “I made plenty of mistakes while we were together. I never thought what he was saying was true, by the way. I was just mad you never said anything about it.”

He sighs.

Kris Halich: “My friends, Amarissa’s family, I really don't care who else's feelings you hurt. I am really just done trying to make everyone happy. It is mentally draining.”

Liz Smalls: "What about you, are you even happy in life right now?"

Kris Halich: “I don't even know what I am right now.”

Liz Smalls: "Well, this probably isn't going to make you any less confused then."

She slowly begins lifting the shirt, but stops.

Liz Smalls: "No matter what happens, how you react, I still care about you...I want you to know that, and promise not to freak out?"

He looks at her oddly when she starts to raise the shirt.

Kris Halich: “Wait, you're taking off clothes?”

He seems confused.

Kris Halich: “Did you call me over here to seduce me or something?”

Liz laughs, nervously and scoots a little closer. She stretches her legs out ahead of her, resting her feet on the coffee table as she begins slowly lifting her shirt again. FInally, she lifts it enough to show a small hump, barely noticeable even. Her head turns and her eyes nervously move to his as she says nothing. He follows her hands when she lifts the shirt and his eyes widen. His eyes shift from the bump, to her eyes and then back several times while his lips struggle to find words.

Kris Halich: “So... you're saying that in your down time you have put on a few pounds or something? Because I know you aren't trying to say what I think you are saying…”

She shakes her head no.

Liz Smalls: "I haven't put any weight on Kris..."
She cautiously reaches over and grabs his hand. She lifts it and moves it onto her exposed stomach, the smile on her face now growing.

Liz Smalls: "I'm...we're pregnant."

He pulls his hand away and pushes himself backwards off of the couch and to his feet.

Kris Halich: “No, there is no 'we' here Liz. We broke up. And that... that..”

He points down at her stomach.

Kris Halich: “That's not real. You're not serious. If this is some ploy to get me back then it's a sick game you're playing here. I should... I..

He looks around aimlessly, trying to find something to focus on, but his eyes can only find her stomach.

Kris Halich: “No. Just no. No.”

He shakes his head several times trying to convince himself. Liz's expression changed, the smile replaced by a look of panic as she pulls the shirt down and stands up, keeping distance between them, not wanting to freak him out anymore.

Liz Smalls: "This isn't a game, or anything to get you back. We broke up with each other, remember?"

She gives a few moments to let it sink in to Kris, before continuing.

Liz Smalls: "This is a result of probably what we both did, and it affects us both. Kris, you're going to be a daddy. Aren't you happy?"

She slowly moves closer towards him. He starts to pace back and forth at the edge of the couch. The dogs start to circle with him. He raises his hands, lacing his fingers and draping the palms of his hands against the back of his head.

Kris Halich: “I am... no.. I am not capable of that.”

He stutters trying to find some new words and can't.

Kris Halich: “We aren't. Parents?”

He laughs uneasily.

Kris Halich: “The two of us? No. That's not a real thing. We can't be. That doesn't even sound right.”

Liz Smalls: "You're the first person I've told, Kris. This is real. We have a beautiful little girl or boy growing inside of me."

She walks closer, again, cautiously.

Liz Smalls: "That's why I took a break from wrestling. Why do you think I would just drop out of something when I've had so much success lately? It's because for as selfish as people think I am, I would NEVER risk our child's health, just to chase a championship belt."

She grabs his hand again and puts it under her shirt.

Liz Smalls: "Kris...we need to make this work."

He pulls free again, but doesn't make a move for the door like the rest of his body is screaming for him to do. Instead, he falls back to sitting on the couch.

Kris Halich: “I just... It's not like I... oh fuck... but…”

He sighs again, replaying her words and trying to talk his way out of the situation.

Kris Halich: “There is no "we" right now. We aren't together. This doesn't change that. It isn't going to be one of those trapping me into a relationship things. This is just…”

He looks up at her stomach again.

Kris Halich: ‘I can't do this. I'm not meant for this.”

Liz Smalls: "Fine, there's no we. I don't want you to feel trapped."

Liz remains standing, looking down at her feet and dropping her shirt to cover her stomach. Her eyes remain to the ground as she quietly speaks.

Liz Smalls: "I think you'll make a great daddy..."


He laughs, and his eyes fall to the floor.

Kris Halich: “You're insane. We would both be terrible parents. Honestly, I already feel sorry for…”

He can't bring himself to address the bump directly for what it is.

Kris Halich: “... that.”

He sits back with another heavy sigh. His eyes pull back to focus on his lap.

Kris Halich: “I can't make a right decision to save my life. I am an addict. I can't be trusted. You... Liz, let's be honest. You're as selfish as I am. You struggle to be nice to anyone. Both of us would rather be competing than sitting at home with our thoughts. We aren't parents.”
Liz's eyes shoot up, her voice raises.

Liz Smalls: "I WAS selfish, and you WERE an addict. We can change, you already have, unless you've suffered a setback?"

Not waiting for an answer, she continues.

Liz Smalls: "We CAN be great parents...I'm going to be a good mommy. I've even gave up french fries already! You know how much I love french fries."

Kris rolls his eyes, but still seems to be fighting himself internally.

Liz smalls: "I might not wrestle again Kris. As much as I love that spotlight, my first priority is going to be OUR CHILD...no one is going to give us any chance at this, but I know we can do this."

Kris Halich: “We can't do this... I can't...do.. this.”

He shakes his head as more doubts come to mind. Jason's difficulties. His own father. Everyone was screaming in his head.

Kris Halich: “You don't want me around this baby. I can't handle that pressure. I'm not Jason. For all I know, I am no better with kids than my own father.”

Liz Smalls: "You're NOT your father. You can either run away like a scared little boy, or you can tell yourself now that you will be a BETTER father than your own. I know I'm not the one to give big pep talks, but Kris...this is the most important thing that will EVER happen in our lives. Our first child..."

Kris Halich: “Our FIRST child? FIRST? I am trying to wrap my head around how this could have happened and you are already looking forward to the fact that it could happen again? Do you hear yourself?”

Liz Smalls: "I'm not saying it could happen again, O-M-G!"

Liz stomps her foot on her carpet.

Liz Smalls: "I meant, we'll NEVER get to have our first child again, this is a huge thingy."

She moves back to the couch and sits next to him.

Liz Smalls: "Why are you so scared of this? I know you can do better than your daddy. I know it Kris!"

Kris Halich: “You KNOW it? What do you actually know about me Liz? I mean really. I can barely make it through a day without buying heroin. I have sold anything and everything I have ever owned to buy that shit. I have manipulated and controlled people in order to do whatever I want to them. I played you in order to break your heart in front of a public that would just laugh at you. What part of that makes me a good person?”

Liz Smalls: "You're a good person because you decided against breaking my heart in front of the world. You no longer manipulate people and you fight that urge to buy that poison. You've changed. How do you not see that!?"

He straight up laughs in her face and rolls his eyes. After shaking his head a few times, he turns his gaze to her. It is a cruel look on his face.

Kris Halich: “I have sat and watched a kid overdose in front of me. A kid that had no interest in doing a drug before I worked on him for a few days. I purposefully gave him too much. I waited for it to go wrong. I took his money. I took what he bought. I called an ambulance and left him in his own vomit. That is the kind of person I am. And now you think I can take care of a kid?”

Liz's eyes widen in horror, having never heard that story before.*

Liz Smalls: "I...I...I..."

She can't figure out what to say, nothing will come out but his gaze doesn't falter and his words don't stop there.

Kris Halich: “Four people in this whole world know what I just told you. One of them is that kid. I don't know what happened to him, and if I am honest, I do not much care. When you boil it down, that is who I am. Regardless of what you or Heather want to see in me, that's what I am. You don't want me around this baby.”

"I do..."

She wipes a single tear as it begins rolling down her cheek.

Liz Smalls: "Kris...I believe in you. I know your past is...sketchy...but I know your heart. This child will change your life. Please, make the choice to be in its life."

Kris Halich: “I don't know Liz. This is a lot to try and wrap my head around. I mean, it isn't like you found out yesterday. Obviously you struggled with it for a while. You can't hope for me to be able to do so in a matter of ten minutes.”

Liz Smalls: "I know..I just want you to think about it. Think about how much regret you will have if this child grows up not knowing its father. How would that make you feel?''

Kris Halich: Maybe he or she would be better off not knowing me…”

Liz Smalls: "Thats ridiculous."

Liz lifts the shirt of Kris' that she's wearing and again stares at her stomach, the smile returning as she does.

Liz Smalls: "I'm so excited..."

He looks up at her stomach again and starts to reach out before stopping short of touching her. His hand drops.

Kris Halich: “I need time…”

It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but she understood. She looked up, nodding, keeping her stomach exposed.

Liz Smalls: "My doctor said I'm due on March 20th."

He laughs.

Kris Halich: “I doubt I will need THAT much time...

She runs her manicured hand across her stomach.

Liz Smalls: "I wanted you to be the first to find out, it's only right. I understand you needing time."


Kris Halich: “This is what you want? You want to carry this baby and have it? You want me to be around it? That is what you have decided?”

He locks onto her eyes, looking for answers. She squeezes her lips together and nods proudly, definitively.

Liz Smalls: "I want to give birth to this child, and I want you there by my side when I do."

He swallows hard and fights shaking his head. He looks like he is leaning away from running, and towards her but his words cut him off.

Kris Halich: “I can't promise to be able to do that right now. I need to go before I say or do anything stupid. I just... this is a lot.”

She nods again, slowly. She wanted to ask him to stay, but knew that wasn't fair.

Liz Smalls: "Take all of the time you need. Thankies....for coming."

She looks down at her feet again as she digs her toes into the carpet nervously. Again he lets out a sigh and pushes himself to his feet. He turns to go, but can't force himself past her. The devil on his shoulder screams at him to consider sending a jab to her stomach and ending their misery. In fact, his hand raises towards her stomach at the thought until the rationality returns to him. Instead, sliding his hand under her shirt, he places a hand on her stomach. He swallows hard, not finding any answers in doing so, and not knowing if he was supposed to. He leans in and kisses her cheek, brushing a tear away from it. His hand drops, and he takes a single step away. His mouth opens to say something but the words don't come. There aren't any of them left. Instead he keeps moving towards the door.

Liz Smalls: "Travel safely...if you need anything, I'm here for you Kris."

Liz says quietly, hoping he decides to be there for their child, secretly hoping he's there for her as well. He gets to the door, and turns to look over his shoulder, nodding to her.

Kris Halich: “You be careful too. No driving and texting. Actually, eat whatever you want. There is another whole person you are eating for now.”

She smirks, saying nothing as she watches him walk out of the door, closing it slowly behind him.



==============
Present Day

“I doubt that I actually deserve this match. In fact, my return match for the Internet Championship probably should have been vacated the moment that Despy dropped that title. If not then, then definitely when I flopped in my return. However, I am not going to complain. If I am totally honest, I do deserve a return match against Despayre. My only reservation is the stipulation. Despayre started my downward spiral. First, The Nobodies lost to Seven Deadly Sins. Then he kicked my ass to take my title. After that, I had to take time away to refocus. Despayre started that when he tried to chew off my face. If I was a lesser person, I would have made my return by attacking him. I guess you people are looking at a different Kristopher E. Halich. Someone with a new look. Someone with a new attitude. Someone that, in their time away, learned a few things about life and growing up.

The thing that I have to prove to myself, and everyone else, is that even though I am different, I am still able to compete on the same level as anyone else in this company, or this industry as a whole. I can promise that I have not lost a step. I can promise that I have kicked off the ring rust.

I can also promise that someone should call the ambulance.

Despayre is gonna be in an Accident.

74
Supercard Archives / KRIS HALC v DESPAYRE
« on: June 26, 2015, 10:20:40 PM »
 20 June 2015
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Los Angeles, CA
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Leaving Vault Nightclub
(Grey text inner thoughts)

I can't believe this shit. Try to do something nice for someone and somebody always gets in the way. Sure, she may have a legit reason, but this shit is ridiculous. I dropped every cent I had, and sold the car to pull all the stops for Heather, and Liz finds a way to make it about her. This chick never had someone throw her a blowout. Shit, we have been in the same boat for most of our lives. I go out on a limb for someone, and end up walking around LA.

Kris left the party, and designated someone to run the show for him. His last bit of cash went into the guy's hand as soon as Liz started texting. The shit thing was, all the sober drivers were either picking up people to bring them to the party, or escorting the drunkards home. He could have waited, but the complaining and texts would have only gotten more hostile. Then again, he couldn't be too mad. It was his girlfriend. Of course he should be there for her. Luckily, throwing a party in the high end part of LA meant that Liz's house was close enough. He could take the extra time to walk around the sketchier areas, or cut through and only have to walk two miles. At a jog, he could do it in no time. It wasn't even close to the length of his morning jog. Fifteen minutes and he would be there to help her out. He cuts between a few buildings not noticing the man sitting against the building until he is practically on top of him.

Homeless Guy: Ay bruh, you got any spare change man? A few dollars maybe so I can grab some food?

This fucking guy... does he think I am an idiot? Midnight in LA and this dude just happens to be awake in an alley looking sick?

Kris stops next to the guy with a smirk on his face. He sizes him up quickly, noting that if things went bad, he could take him down pretty quick. He hunches down to be on eye level.

Kris: Food, eh? Lemme see your arms homie.

Kris pulls out his phone and turns the screen on to bathe the man in light as he holds up his arms, showing fresh tracks.

Homeless Man: How'd you know bruh?

Kris turns the phone on his own arm, and raises his sleeve. The tracks there are scarred, and clearly not fresh. They both laugh lightly.

Kris: Dude, I used to be here doing the same shit. Honestly, if I had money I'd probably give it to you. I'm not even gonna sit here and preach to you. I know that shit is awesome. It was damn near impossible to give up.

The man laughs a little heavier this time.

Homeless Man: Legit cuz. Like, I aint trying to give it up. Trying to catch a high, maybe hit a dollar menu at Micky D's if I got some change left over.

Kris stands up, checks the time on his phone, and then drops it into his pocket. He turns his head back the way he came, talking to the guy as he does.

Kris: You want to score some real dough though, head back towards The Vault. Big private party going on. No bouncers outside to clear you out. Just chill in front and you could probably make more than enough....

As he is talking, looking back the way he came, two guys start walking down the alley. They are both staring right at him, and his heart starts to race. The man he was talking to starts to rise on the wall, getting to his feet while Kris' attention is elsewhere.

Homeless Man: Think me and my boys could all make a killing over there?

Kris turns with a smile, there is no joy in it. He makes eye contact with the guy, and then looks past him down the other end of the alley. Two more guys seem to be blocking off his escape, walking towards them. Kris nods towards them.

Kris: More friends of yours?

The guy laughs lightly and just nods in response. Kris has been on both sides of this more than once before, and knows the score. He was stupid for stopping and talking long enough to set himself up.

Kris: So it's like that, bruh? Man, that's cold blooded. Im one of you all. Gotta be treating me like the assholes living around here tossing around money.

The guy shakes his head, the others quickly closing in on them.

I gotta get ahead of this. They get closer and I am fucked, and not in any way Imma get any enjoyment out of.

Homeless Man: Bitch, you aint like us no more. Them tracks are old. That phone is top of the line. Bet you lying about being broke too. Someone like you is worse tha--

Kris turns to him mid sentence while he is gloating and jabs him in the throat. It isn't the pretty way to do things, but damn was it effective. Kris waits the second it takes the man's hands to raise to his windpipe, and then sends a punt to the hobo's crotch that will probably stop him from ever conceiving children. The other four start to run towards them, quickly closing the distance. Kris sees only one option, taking his damaged acquaintance by the back of his neck and spinning him around before propelling him into two of the others, sending them all down to the ground. He turns to the other two but it's too late.

This is gonna hurt even if I get my arms off. These guys are bigger...

Kris gets his left arm up to block a hard right hand from one of the two men, but it catches him in the elbow, causing his arm to drop. The other guy throws his own shot, catching Kris across the cheek before the first fires off a second blow and catches Kris in the temple, spinning him on his heel. He falls, and lowers his left arm on impulse to catch himself. It smacks the ground hard his wrist cocked and an awkward angle from spinning. It hits the ground under his whole weight and he feels the joint in his elbow give, dislocating. Pain radiates up his arm, but he gets his knees under him and pushes himself up off the ground, now holding his left arm.

[/i]I can beat the other guys to their feet and outrun them. No way they can keep up with me.[/i]

He forces himself up, and sprints forward, putting distance between him and the other two who are probably caught off guard by him getting up at all.

[/i]I can get out of this... [/i]

He keeps his feet mobile, but the setup man he was talking to thinks quickly, probably obsessed with getting his fix. He lifts his leg as Kris starts to move by him, and succeeds in catching his foot, tripping him. Kris' momentum propels him towards a dumpster on the wall of the alleyway. He hits it hard, his left shoulder catching the pointed edge of the corner of the dumpster, joining his elbow in dislocation. He spins away from it, trying to stay on his feet, but the two men from behind him grab him by his shirt and spin him around, tossing him head first into the dumpster, putting a gash across his brow that renders his right eye useless. He falls hard to the ground as all of them get up and circle him.

Homeless Man: You should have just handed over the cash man. You could have made this easy.

Kris laughs and brushes blood from his eye with his right hand.

Kris: Oh fuck off... I was fucked and catching this beating the moment I cut through the alley. Don't bullshit me.

The guy nods, and then turns to each set of his buddies. What ensued was a flurry of kicks and stomps all targeted as Kris' ribcage.

Gotta cover up. They're gonna break my ribs if I dont. No point blocking off anything else. They won't hit lower. They want my phone. They wouldn't take a chance of breaking the screen.

The stomps continue until all the men are winded and the ringleader pulls on their shoulders to stop them before leaning down. Kris falls over on his left side, covering his more injured side. They dig in his pocket, taking his wallet and cell phone. One of them opens the wallet.

Thug: He wasn't playin man. There aint even a dime in this bitch. Just a bank card and a driver's license.

The ringleader hands off the cell phone to one of the others and reaches out, getting handed the license.

Homeless Man: Now we know where you live bruh. So you cancel this card and we gonna have to stop by, feel me?

Whoever lives in my old apartment gonna be really pissed off tomorrow. Glad I'm too lazy to change my address. Silver linings...

Kris nods, any sense of argument far from his mind. Right now it was just hard enough to breathe. The four of them start to walk away, but the ring leader sticks behind. He pats Kris on the side of the head.

Homeless Man: Thanks for the tip about The Vault homie. We gonna be sure to hit that place up. You been a real help. Legit.

Kris smiles, a laugh starts to come out, but pain stops it. The man gets up, but doesn't step away.

Homeless Man: ... but... kicking my in the fucking balls was the wrong move.

He starts to rain kicks down on Kris' ribs again, with the last two coming down on the side of his face. His head bounces off the pavement after each, and his vision is too blurred to make out shapes afterwards.

Homeless Man: I'll be seeing you...

The group starts to walk away and Kris relaxes slightly, favoring his left side and closing his eyes. He lays there, unable to form clear thoughts, until he passes out. The next thing he will remember is waking up in the hospital the next morning.

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75
Climax Control Archives / Nobodies and Somebodies
« on: May 22, 2015, 11:57:24 PM »
 Algeria [Post Climax Control]
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17 May 2015 (11:06 PM)
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Off-Camera [Backstage Inner Thoughts]


He zips the gym bag closed, and turns around to survey the rest of the small locker room for any of his belongings he may have forgotten to pack. Sure enough, he crosses the room and reaches down to the small couch, picking up is black and purple gloves. He smacks them on the back of his right hand, checking out the rest of the room to make sure there was nothing else lying around, and then nods before moving back to the bag. ”I wonder how many people lost their money tonight on that match. Everyone was rooting against me, not that I can fault them. Sure, I am carrying what is supposed to be looked at as a second tier title, but not even the backstage announcers care enough to lend me their ear for a minute. Kris Halc versus Goth with the SCW Internet Championship on the line. Kris Halc, the guy who only retained the title in Morocco by getting his friend to cheat Kain. Kris Halc…. who the hell is that guy? There are those, and a dozen more, reasons not to bet on me. That doesn’t even go into accounting for the fact that Goth is a Triple Crown Champion going for a Grand Slam, and coming off a win in the most brutal contest from the supercard in Morocco. Sure, it’s fucking Africa, but people in Africa bet, don’t they? I bet they do. I bet a lot of people are unhappy.” He throws the gloves in the bag and rezips it. Hanging in the locker above it is the SCW Internet Championship. He had purposefully left it out of the bag. He hangs the gym bag on his right shoulder and then reaches out, taking the title and placing it on his left. ”Sure, I have a few bruises here and there, but if anyone is about to give me shit, maybe the bruises, along with flashing a little gold will get them to back off. Security people weren’t in front of a screen watching the show from back here. They wouldn’t just off hand recognize my face from having just been in the ring. Even if my face, my bruises, and my title don’t do the trick, maybe they are more concerned with the faces that they do know. I am walking out of the building without any kind of entourage or fancy car outside. Maybe they will be busy making sure people like Gabriel and Andrew Watts are getting out unscathed by hordes of cheering and adoring fans. I fucking despise them.”

He flips the lights off in the room as he steps out into the hallway, and closes the door gently behind himself. Moving down the hallway he reaches into the front pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a set of headphones. They aren’t attached to anything, but that wasn’t the point. Kris stuffs one in each ear, and then takes the other end of the cord and stuff it into the front pocket of his pants. ”If people think that you are listening to something they leave you alone, for the most part. Unless they have something important to say, or you arouse significant suspicion, you’re practically invisible. Unfortunately it doesn’t work when you are walking into a building. It does work when you are trying to sneak out. I don’t need some half-hearted congratulations from a person that had never heard my name before it came through the arena PA after I retained my title. Honestly, I don’t need a congratulations from anyone, regardless of it they know me. I don’t do this for anyone but myself and if people in the back don’t realize that, then they don’t actually know me at all. That goes for Tim. That goes for Johnny. That goes for Amy. For those first two, sure, we are part of this Nobodies group. That doesn’t tie me to them. It is just a few guys with the same problem putting a name on what they are. It’ll hurt their feelings if I mention it. If I did they would probably just refer to me like we do everyone else. The difference between me and everyone else is that I look at these guys, and see nobodies, BUT understand that they are going to be somebodies. Just like me. Nobody gives us a chance because we don’t look like bodybuilders, and don’t come from money. Tim is a second generation guy, but because of the way he looks, people think he is a janitor and write him off.” He passes through a small security choke point in the hallway, and pushes through them. The hood of his sweatshirt over his head makes the guards want to stop him to check him, but the headphones and the title on his shoulder make them guess twice. He moves through the checkpoint unbothered and shoves open the door leading into the garage area. We are the Nobodies of this industry, and of this company, and look what we are capable of. Tim made a huge entrance, and then an impact in Morocco without being in a match. I came in and won a title that nobody can take from me cleanly, or uncleanly. Maybe it is a blessing that people lost money on me tonight. If people don’t bank on us winning, and people don’t think we are threats, we can’t lose.” He gets to the rental car and throws open the door, tossing the bag and the title into the passenger seat. He looks around and then drops down into the driver’s seat, pulling the keys from his hoodie pocket. ”I don’t care what next week brings. Right now, I’m golden.

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Tunis, Tunisia
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22 May 2015 (7:12 PM)
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On-Camera [Hotel]


”Talk about throwing the Nobodies across the ring from the Somebodies, and seeing if it sells. Last week, I was leaving the show and thinking to myself. I said, Kris, one day you are going to be a somebody, and that is no different from Tim or Johnny. I grabbed a shower back at my, less than five star, hotel and fell into a deep peaceful sleep. I didn’t waste any time dwelling on the fact that another interviewer walked away from us. I didn’t consider the fact that winning a main event was a huge step forward, and now losing in the undercard would ruin all of that progress. Honestly, I didn’t even care what the match was going to end up being this week. All in all, I thought after tossing my a main event, they might just give me the night off. They wouldn’t want to give a guy that they can’t successfully market too much air time, after all. So imagine my surprise when I saw my name, and the names of my partners, across the marquee from Gabriel, Despayre, and Chris Shipman. For the record, I list them in that order because I feel like it goes most intimidating to least intimidating.”

Kris hands money to the woman behind the counter at the small booth at which he stands, and she hands him back a small wooden box. There are engravings in the sides of it. The designs are intricate, and most likely unable to be duplicated perfectly. He nods at the woman with a polite smile, and turns to the camera, holding the box up.

”Never go international without bringing pretty and unique things back home to friends and family.”

He drops his hand, and pushes the box into the front pocket of his hoodie. Despite the heat, his attire doesn’t change. The sleeves of the sweatshirt are merely pushed up, and the hood is lowered instead of on top of his head. All in all, the heat doesn’t seem to bother him at all. The only setback, or course, is that the bottom of the track marks on his arms are visible, at least for those that are closely looking for them.

”I don’t know if you people have heard, but I don’t have many friends. Shit, I don’t really have any friends. The fact that me and the rest of the Nobodies are part of the same match, as a team, is more than a little scary, without even taking a glance across to the other side of the ring. Tim tried to get one-up on Kain last week, and fell short. Johnny, hasn’t even had a match yet. If you look at that, we don’t have a chance going against these guys. These are documented, successful names that we are fighting. How long has Gabriel even held the top prize in this company? I know it is longer than I have even been here. When has Despayre had a bad match? I can’t think of one. Chris Shipman, this dude is walking around two weeks removed from one of the most brutal matches I have ever personally witnessed. Though Shipman fell short to the man I beat last week, it doesn’t change the fact that it is damn impressive that he was up and ready to go, practically the next day. All three of these men are intimidating.”

He shrugs his shoulders, and starts moving towards the camera. He doesn’t stop his approach, instead continuing past the camera as it turns and follows him off to his left. Together, they turn into an alley, not far from the booth. Kris points ahead of himself.

”My hotel is all of one hundred yards down this alley, so I am going to make this short and sweet. All of these men are documented winners. Some might actually have paid some attention to me. I doubt that anyone has much of anything to say about Johnny. My guess is any of them talking about Tim will just mention how good his father was. I am the most decorated of the bunch, and I am not giving them a lot to work with either. I guarantee you one thing, the Nobodies have had a lot more homework to do than the people we are going to be across from, and we have done just that. We know what we are going to be walking into. We know what each man is capable of. We have watched their promos, studied their matches, talked to people that have been around them for a while. The Nobodies are prepared for this match mentally. Physically, I guess we will have to see once the bell rings. In this industry, preparation is key. The guys of Seven Deadly Sins simply do not have the kind of material to work with that we do. Best case scenario, they have me scouted. I am merely one-third of the team though. I can tag out of the match and then they are in the ring with unknown and unfamiliar talent. Right now, they have the edge when it comes to history. However, we have the edge when it comes to knowing what the match is going to look like once it gets started. We can match ourselves up against the right person, for any situation. Gabriel, Despayre, and Chris are going to have to learn that on the fly. I am not going to discount them. You don’t get as noticed as they are without being able to pick things up as they happen inside the ring. What I am saying is, they have a learning curve to account for. We are the guys that come into the match with all the answers. If we can keep it short, then a lot of people are going to lose a lot of money for betting against us. The longer it drags on, the better the chances that we shoot ourselves in the foot.”

He stops walking and turns around, the camera stops short of where he is so that he is now facing it, with the hotel in plain sight just twenty or so yards from them.

”I am not saying that it is going to be easy. I am not saying that it is an inevitability. What I am saying is, come time for Climax Control, maybe you people should be ready to see the Nobodies take a step towards becoming Somebodies by taking out the man on top of the mountain. We have everything to gain. They have everything to lose. If they lose, the world will call it an upset. If we lose, everyone will call it common sense, because nobody thinks we stand a chance. It is going to be our job to make sure we prove people wrong.”

He moves forward like he is going to give the cameraman a shove, like he normally does, but stops short. The camera visibly jumps as the man braced for impact, but it was all a joke. Kris laughs lightly, and then gives a small nod, turning towards his hotel and leaving the camera behind.

76
Climax Control Archives / One Down, One To Go....
« on: May 15, 2015, 11:47:20 PM »
 A Mile High - Over The Atlantic
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4 May 2015 (5:06 PM)  
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On-Camera [Flight Back From Morocco]

The scene opens with Kris sitting in front of a laptop. There is a bright light shining onto his face, and illuminating the area in front of the screen. It doesn’t take the audience long to figure out that they are sitting in front of him on the tray attached to the seat in front of him on an airplane. The light shining on him is the small individual overhead light, that is also way too powerful, next to the air conditioning vent above him. The surroundings seem quiet, as members of the staff move up and down the aisles checking on those on the flight. Kris smiles widely at the camera and then shrugs.

”I was going to wait until I got back to the states to actually say anything to you guys, but then I figured, why wait? By the time I touch down and get settled in Los Angeles, all of you will have had days to dissect the show in Morocco, and will have undoubtedly come to your own conclusions about the result of my match. You people will say that I cheated. Some of you might say that Kain’s shot at the title was stolen away from him unfairly. Even more will likely talk about my cowardice, and the fact that I should not be proud of winning that match how I did. So why should I sit here, bored out of my mind, on this flight and not say anything? Why should I give you the satisfaction of forming your own conclusions before I tell my side of the story? I have all of the time in the world to burn right now. I think I should use it to put your comments to rest before they even begin to rain down on me.”

A stewardess stops by Kris, and he raises a hand slightly, waving her off before she can even ask if he needs anything. He rocks back in his chair, which the viewers can see is not at all like the ones in coach. He scans his surroundings for a second and then turns back to the camera.

”The only person that cheated Kain, is Kain. If you people will remember, I told him in the match where I took his title that I would do anything to take that title away from him. I said, very plainly, that if there is a shortcut in a match, I would take it. I ranted about how there was nothing that I was not willing to in order to walk out a champion. I echoed that same message in the two weeks leading up to Morocco. I emphatically reiterated the fact that there were no rules that I would leave unbroken. I forewarned Kain on three occasions  and told him to prepare for all possible scenarios. Is Kain more deadly than I am in the ring? Probably so. I don’t have any real training in this stuff. I make use of my own natural ability and wing the rest as the situations dictate. If that were the only thing that I had going, I am not a threat at all. It is the mere fact that I do not feel burdened by rules that makes me a big pain in the ass. Now, I told Kain that three times. Each time he ignored my messages. Each time he ranted on in the same way that he does every week, and we were all meant to listen to the “King of Kings” when he was talking, even though he didn’t give a shit about what we were saying.”

Kris raises both of his hands to give his previous opponent’s nickname its own hint of sarcasm. Although, instead of looking like his regular self, he seems mildly annoyed at the fact that his messages weren’t received.

”That is the reason that I am holding this title still. Sure, I could sit here and claim that Kain would not have one the title because it was going to be a countout anyways. I could say that his win would be meaningless because he wasn’t walking out of the building as a two time champion, regardless of what may or may not have happened to him at the end of the match. The fact remains though, I don’t have to make excuses, because I told him my gameplan from the very start. Some of you might think of what happened as dirty, or cheating, but is it really cheating if you tell someone that you are going to do it? I personally dont think so. I gave him the opportunity to correct his behavior. Either he was too stupid to pay attention during his little hissy fit about losing the title in the first place, or he validates my Nobody persona by saying he never paid any attention to what I said in the first place. In either case, it was his fault that he lost, not mine.”

He reaches forward, adjusting the camera on the screen so that the viewers can look around the cabin. There are individuals reading in the few seats that are filled, and a couple that are watching something on their laptops. When Kris turns the camera back towards him, he sighs.

”I think that I am going to have my money on the fact that he didn’t listen to a word that I had to say in our promos building towards Mayhem in Morocco. Why? Well, because I have been talking to you guys this whole time and not one single person has looked up from what they are doing to notice the crazy guy talking to a computer screen. My voice is apparently just as invisible as my presence. I don’t know if you guys caught that, but I literally had to fight my way into the arena, in order to fight to retain my championship. Was anyone going to cry foul if I lost? Would any of you of made the excuse that because I had to go through a security guard before my match, that if I lost I wasn’t 100% when the bell rang? Of course you wouldn’t have. Kain lost because of the person that he is. I won because of the person that I am. There is nothing more to it than that. I told Kain that if he didn’t listen, that he wouldn’t win. He didnt, and I am still sitting here champion. I don’t know who SCW is going to be throwing at me next, but let’s hope they get their listening ears on before bell time.”

Kris shrugs again, with a smile and reaches forward, tapping a button on the keyboard and killing the video feed.


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San Diego, California
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9 May 2015 (10:06 AM)  
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Off-Camera [Union Bank of California]
[Grey Italic Text is Inner Thoughts]

This may be the first time that Jason has ever been a passenger in my car. I can’t help but feel like it is entirely my fault too. Honestly, I am surprised that Elena didn’t lay into me when she got here. I knew my father was dead two days ago. I made an excuse to be in San Diego so that nobody would question exactly why I was taking a day trip down here. I didn’t tell him. I wasn’t going to tell him. Not yesterday. Not today. Not ever. The car pulls off of the highway, and Kris looks over at his older brother, who stares blankly out the window. The bruising on his face was still pretty bad and his right arm was in a sling. It was easy to tell by his labored breathing that the inside of his body was beaten up pretty bad as well. However, just looking at the expression on his face would have led people that didn’t know him to think otherwise. To them, it may look like he was even in mourning, but that wasn’t really true either. When they called me and told me, they asked if there were any other relatives that they needed to contact regarding his death, and I had lied and said that there were none. I suppose legally it was a lie, at least. In reality, this man had been dead to us for two decades already. Normally people hide things because they want to protect someone from grief. That isn’t why I did it though, but I couldn’t hope to explain that to Jason. When I got the phone call, I was relieved for all of one second. Then it hit me. The person, that I had focused every shred of hate that I felt for this world was gone. I couldn’t wish all of the hateful things on him that had normally gotten me through the day anymore. It was just nothingness. What am I going to do with all of this rage now? Who knows. I will figure it out at some point. Jason though, he has family. He has a pregnant wife, a slew of stepchildren, and more than a handful of people around him that he holds close. If I took away the outlet of his hate, how much would that shorten his fuse for the people that are left around him? I didn’t want this dead bastard to take anything else away from us. If Jason thinking he was still alive was going to give him that one thing to drive all of his negativity towards, than I was willing to shoulder this on my own. I was sparing his family from having to deal with that. However, Jason always finds a way.

The black sportscar whips around a few turns, and onto a main road. Jason sighs, and then grimaces in pain. He readjusts his position in the chair while Kris acts like he doesn’t notice. Jason flipped out and drove down here angry. That anger that I didn’t want him to have to blow off on anyone else, got hurled at his car. I couldn’t even hazard a guess at how much money he dropped into it. Even worse, I didn’t want to think about how many different things on it probably made it illegal to drive. He blew through the wrong red light, trying to catch it on a yellow, and now it doesn’t matter how nice that car was. It flipped, and then slid on the roof a few dozen feet while spinning in circles. The driver that hit him was driving a truck that was built like a city bus, so of course he was okay. Jason was flying around in a little tin can of a car. It was totaled. When the newspaper got hold of the pictures yesterday, it was hard for people that saw them to accept that he was actually unhurt, for the most part. Yet, since I arrived at the scene, all the way up to this moment, I have not seen him appear even slightly angry. He just seems, complacent… and I am not sure if that is better. After crossing an intersection the car turns right, into a parking lot, and pulls into a space. The large building in front of them is the single place that the lawyer had mentioned as part of the will. It was a bank, inside which was a safety deposit box. It was all that was left of their father. Kris kills the engine of the car, and looks over at Jason. The lock eyes, and the older of the two brothers nods and they reach for the door handles at the same time. The sun hits their eyes and both of them squint towards the Union Bank of California, with hesitant looks on their faces. Kris shuts his door, looking down at the center console as he does, the box of ashes from their father’s cremation sitting inside. We didn’t even have a service for him. Nobody would have come, and if anyone did, it would have likely just been a person in the wrong place at the wrong time, looking for some other dead person. We didn’t have anything to say about him. When the guy at the crematorium said that he could say a few words, Jason gave him a look that told him all he needed to know. The lawyer waited outside while the two of us sat there, watching through the grate as our father was burned to ash. I don’t know about Jason, but it was something that I had waited to see for almost twenty years. In my most pleasant dreams, I was sitting there in front of that furnace, watching flames rip him apart. It was a lot more satisfying actually getting to be awake for it.

The two head towards the door of the bank, with Kris reaching out to take the handle, and holding it open for Jason who uses his only movable arm to reach into his pocket and produce a key. The lady behind the counter greets us with a welcoming smile, and before she can open her mouth, Jason holds up the key. Her eyes catch it and she moves to pull up the correct screen on her computer for us to gain access to the box.

Bank Teller
What is the name on the safety deposit box sir?


Jason places the key on the table in front of her, and then slides it across, not fielding the question. He had made a promise to himself a long time ago, that the name would never again come out of his mouth. Kris wasn’t so theatrical about his hate though.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
William James Halich.


The teller nods and punches the keys on her board, pulling up their father’s account. She reaches across the table, and takes the key, matching the numbers on it to the numbers on file and then muttering the actual number to the box under her breath a few times to get it right. She starts to move down the counter.

Bank Teller
If you two would just follow me. I can take you right to it.


Kris holds his hand out in front of himself, motioning for Jason to lead the way. He passes Kris and tails the teller from behind the counter to a room next to the actual vault of the bank. She first unlocks the gate leading into the room with a set of keys attached to her hip, and then moves to the actual box. She unlocks it, and pulls the container from the wall, placing it on the table in the middle of the room. It is no more than eight inches wide, and probably two feet deep. She places the key in the lock of the box and nods at the two of them.

Bank Teller
Well, I will leave you two gentlemen to it then….


She awkwardly steps in between the two and then out the door. She doesn’t head immediately back to her position on the counter though. Instead, she takes a seat at the end of the counter, just out of range of hearing and line of sight of the room. Clearly, she aims to lock everything back up once they are done. The brothers pay her no further attention though, moving to opposite sides of the table. Kris reaches out and turns the key on the box, and takes a deep breath. Noticing his hesitation, Jason finally finds his words.

♥Jason Halich♥
What’s the problem, Kris? You aren’t actually concerned about whatever is going to be in it are you? Lets just get this over with and put it behind us. This is the last time that we do anything for him.


Kris looks down at the box, and can’t find the willpower to turn the key. He reaches out for it again, and pulls it from the box and places it on top of it.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I don’t want to know.


Jason’s face wrinkles up in confusion. He shakes his head a few times before he can produce any words.

♥Jason Halich♥
What don’t you want to know? I mean we already know everything about this piece of shit that we could ever hope to hear. Nothing in this box is going to change any of that. I say we clear it out, find a dumpster on the way back to the car, and toss all of it without consideration. What is the problem with that?


Kris puts both of his fists, knuckles down, on the table and presses them into it hard to suppress his rage. Once he feels like he can talk without raising his voice, he does so. His eyes meet Jason’s before a sound can pass through his lips, and when he does speak, his tone is calm and collected.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I don’t even want to be his trash man, Jason. Come on! You got in a car wreck last night stressing out over this asshole. I honestly could not hate him more than I already do, and I know that you feel the same way. You have a pregnant wife waiting on you at your hotel. You have Haley practically about to pop a baby out in Seattle right now. What is opening this container going to do for either of us?


The look of confusion doesn’t leave his face. He shrugs again.

♥Jason Halich♥
I don’t know what you are trying to say, Kris. You are going to have to give me more than that.


♧Kristopher Halich♧
I see the contents of this box going two ways. Either we open it, and the bullshit in here just reinforces our understanding of this man, or it doesn’t. We could open this box and see the child abusing, molesting, cheating, drunken psycho that we both hate, or it could be something else completely. My question is, why bother?


The confusion finally starts to fade from Jason’s face and he nods. He thinks it over for a second and then a half smile forms on his face.

♥Jason Halich♥
What you are saying is, there is nothing bad enough in this box that could make us hate him anymore than we already do. At the same time, if there is something in this box that is a positive, then it is going to fuck up your whole picture of him. Instead, you are saying that you are content to hate him forever.


Kris doesn’t hesitate to nod in agreement.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
Is that going to be a problem for you?


Jason picks up the key from the top of the container and looks at it. He turns it around in his hand a few times before coming to some sort of realization.

♥Jason Halich♥
I don’t want to know either. You know, I can remember back to when times weren’t so bad. If I had to guess, you can do that too. However, after all of the things that he did to us, all of the abuse, all of the nights that we didn’t have power on at the house, or food to eat, none of it matters to me. No matter what little piece of goodness I can pull out of my memory, it doesn’t come close to making a dent in the hatred I have for him, Kris. So, you’re right. We could open this box and a fucking rainbow could come out of it. It will never be enough. We can add up all of those scattered memories and it wouldn’t change a thing. Why would we open it and give him the opportunity to make us doubt the person that he is, even for just a second. Fuck him, Kris. You’re right. I don’t even want to give him the benefit of taking his shit to the dumpster.


Kris nods, and looks around the room. For once the two of them were in agreement over something that actually matter. It had been a while and was a strange feeling. Maybe watching their father burst into flames like he was being welcomed to hell with open arms was a bonding moment for them. Then the realization hits Kris, and he looks at Jason for a response.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
So how exactly do we go about doing that?


Jason opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then scratches the side of his head with the key to the box. He moves around the table, and then out of the room, stopping near the lady that had allowed them to go in.

♥Jason Halich♥
What do you guys do with boxes that never get claimed? Like people die, no relatives, no living will, that kind of thing. Do they just sit there forever or what?


The woman turns, and her eyes widen a bit. She bites down on her bottom lip in thought, and then comes up with the only response she can think of.

Bank Teller
Inevitably, everything inside the box would be destroyed. The boxes are rented and the annual charges come out of the attached account. If the account becomes delinquent for nonpayment, then it gets sent to a collections office. If no response is received, such as in the death of a person without anyone left to manage their estate, we basically destroy everything in it.


Jason turns to Kris and shrugs, his eyes questioning Kris to see if he thinks it is reasonable. Kris nods and comes the rest of the way out of the room. He stands next to his brother and looks down at the woman with a smile.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
Then I think we are done here, thank you.


Jason closes his fist around the key, and the two move away from the door as the woman looks inside and sees the box still on the table, untouched. She moves inside, as the two brothers make their way to the door, and exit the bank. Just outside, there is a small garbage bin, and Jason drops the key inside of it and then pats Kris on the shoulder.

♥Jason Halich♥
That bastard is officially gone now. No loose ends. He can’t get at us now.


Kris laughs, but it is uneasy. He turns and looks at his brother as they walk over to the car, his tone low and serious when the words come out of his mouth.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
One down… one to go.


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Algeria
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15th May 2015 (5:47 PM)  
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On-Camera [Side Streets]


The sun is beating down hard on the pavement. It creates a blinding effect on the camera as the glare comes from both the sky above, and the reflection off the ground. Kris is center frame, walking along yet another back alley in another foreign country. However, today he has chosen to forego the hoodie. Just in looking at him, viewers can see why. Sweat is rolling down his cheeks from under his sunglasses. His hair is disselved, likely from heat as well. He starts to walk as the camera starts to roll, and forces the cameraman to follow at his side.

"I knew that I would hear it. I tried to stop it before it got rolling. People spouted off with the same nonsense anyways. It seems like everyone is jumping on the Kain bandwagon. I am not going to be bitter about it though. It could be worse. I could be standing here in front of you about to face Kain for the third consecutive time if management decided it was profitable enough. Apparently beating a guy for his title, and then having a title defense end in a no contest is not very conclusive. It doesn’t much matter to me though. Around the time that the show ends on Sunday, all anyone is going to be saying about Kain is how some young kid beat his ass, and how he never should have been in the title hunt if he lets things like that happen to him. He will be embarrassed. I might not have to step in the ring with that mouth breather ever again. His career may be headed straight down the shitter. I will just be happy to be the one that kicked it in that direction. Soon enough, my critics will long forget the time that Kain was champion. He is just going to go down in the books as the guy that held the title until the day they gave me a shot. Then again, I am a Nobody, so maybe he won’t make the record books at all, considering I probably won’t make the cut."

He continues to move down the alley, grazing his hand along the wall of the backside of the buildings as he goes, similar to what he did in Morocco.

"I signed up to SCW because I hated traveling around the United States with the company that my brother started. I really just wanted to chill in one general area. Touring the world is probably my least favorite part of this gig, but I still manage to find places that I feel at home in. I mean, you people have noticed that I am always surrounded by the same kind of things here. I am always in an alley. I am always surrounded by the regular people of society. It is good to know that things, no matter where you are, do not have to change. I just wanted to make the trip up to Vegas once a week to do my thing. I guess I should have read the part of the contract that said I had to tour the world all year. I was never one to stress over details though. It hasn’t stopped me from doing my thing though. If you guys have been paying attention, I have to be one of those names that is on the top of the SCW newcomers or break-outs lists. However, again, Nobody status kind of says that won’t be the case. Not that I am not okay with that. I get it. I don’t have the look that people in this industry look for and I am not one to go out in insane matches every week and bloody myself beyond recognition. Contrary to popular belief, I am damn good looking, in my own opinion. I don’t really want to get disfigured. I mean, otherwise I would never be able to convince security that I am not just a janitor or stage hand."

He stops and leans against the wall, facing the camera. He pulls the aviator sunglasses off of his face, and smiles.

"You know me, always one for segways into what I actually want to talk about. This week, that person is Goth. See, blood and brutality seem like they are this guy’s bread and butter, and now he gets a shot at the SCW Internet Championship. To be completely honest, the things that happened in SCW before I showed up are kind of a mystery to me. Sure, I am picking up some of the pieces as I go along, but they are few and far between. This guy Goth had one hell of a match in Morocco. Like, when I first saw that I was booked against him, I was scared. The dude lost a ton of blood, took a heavy beating, and still put a guy through a table to win a match. That is not something that I see myself as personally capable of doing. I like to pride myself on being a guy that is hard to put down, but the amount of blood left in the ring was kind of scary. Naturally, coming off a match like that the guy can’t be 100% but, this is a triple crown champion we are talking about. They are effectively standing a Nobody in the way of a guy hitting the Grand Slam. Am I not allowed to say that I am intimidated, or scared? Scary performance in Morocco inside the ring, and all of the accomplishments that I will probably never reach in this company make for a terrifying matchup."

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth as his eyes widen as much as they can. He takes a moment, looking towards the ground, appearing to doubt himself. However, after just a moment, he looks up, a smile on his face.

"I am allowed to be intimidated, and I certainly… was."

He clasps his hands in front of his chest and kind of rubs them back and forth a little, finding a mental rhythm for the words he is about to unload.

"Was. Past tense. As in not any more. See, I looked at the guy’s accomplishments. Those are kind of intimidating. I looked at his last match. That was downright terrifying. Imagine the hesitation I faced when it came to watching the guy’s promos. I should be shitting my pants in terror, right? Wrong. I had to sit through ten minutes of this guy bitching about how he is a drunk, nearly blind, shell of someone who used to be decent. In fact, going into the match the guy’s only request was that his opponent put him out of his misery. This is the kind of person that we are handing title shots to now? I mean, I am not going to complain because they handed one to me, and I am a Nobody. At least I own it though. I come out here and talk, knowing that there aren’t going to be many people that listen to what I have to say. I go out there in the ring knowing that there are probably hundreds of people in attendance, and thousands watching that are taking a piss break. I don’t whine and complain about it. I don’t come out and say that since I am so irrelevant, someone should just cripple me to get me off the roster. In fact, I actually told Kain last show that if he did cripple me, I would still come down to the ring in a wheelchair with a computer to talk for me. I told Kain, and I told however many of you fans listened, that even if I was a broken, crippled, shell of the Nobody I am today, I would still show up. I didn’t beg for someone to put me out of my misery. Why? Because I have the balls to do it myself. Don’t believe? Google search my name around last Christmas when they brought me back to life against my will in December."

Kris shakes his head and pushes away from the wall, stepping close to the camera. Typically this is the time that he does his signature push to topple the camera man and walk away as the camera breaks on the ground, but instead he puts his face right in it, and stares into the lens like he can see Goth watching him through it.

”I may never be as accomplished as you. I may never be as hardcore as you in that ring. I may never be recognized on the street for the person that I am. However, the thing that raises me above you is that I actually want to be here. It sounds like you want to be face down in a bowl of soup, bleeding all over a table. Either that, or maybe in some drunken coma in a ditch on the side of the road on a rainy night when a dude just happens to overcorrect and head your direction. I bet you wouldn’t even see that coming. [laugh] You are going to talk about how you are going to take this from me. I can tell by what I watched you say to Shipman that you can’t take it. You don’t actually want it because you don’t actually want to be here. On the other hand, I want to carry the SCW Internet Championship because every moment that I do, a Nobody has a chance to be a somebody. You are a relic. You are irrelevant in your present state. You won’t be 100% come time for this match, and even if you were, you don’t want it bad enough to take the title from me. By design, by cheat, or by dumb luck, I am going to beat you. If you want, maybe I will put you out of your misery afterwards if you ask nicely.”

If the cameraman rested easy when Kris came close, and didn’t issue him a shove, he certainly felt stupid now. Kris shoves the camera with both hands, and harder than ever before. The camera moves straight back, and the impact of both the man, and the camera can be heard against the wall before the lens dips and the camera impacts the ground, cutting the feed to black.

77
Supercard Archives / KRIS HALC (c) vs KAIN
« on: May 01, 2015, 11:54:39 PM »
 (OOC: I feel that I should mention, that Kris' comments about Kain's promo are from the one from the first RP period as I not believe in reading current RPs while writing my own. I only read after I am done with mine and it has been posted.)


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Los Angeles, California
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28 April 2015 [2:37 PM]
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[Off-Camera] Kris Halich's Home


On the island style rectangle counter top in the center of his kitchen rests an acoustic guitar. Beneath it, a layer of plastic wrap that covers the island and goes all the way down to the floor. It is cut in such a manner that when it gets to the floor, it separates, in all four directions, covering the nearby parts of the floor. On the left side of the neck of the guitar is a jar full of discolored water. On the right, there are small plastic circular containers, not taller than an inch and not even an inch in diameter. Inside each was a different color. Just below the containers were blotches where different colors had been mixed to create a new one. The only person standing in the room is Kris Halich, hovered over top the body of the guitar, dragging a thin paint brush across the face. Finishing his stroke, he dips the brush lightly in water and then drags it across the front of his khaki shorts to dry it, something he had clearly done dozens of times over the course of his project from the discoloration of the area of his pants. He dips it lightly into a different color, and starts to trace around his previous stroke. Before he can raise the brush, footsteps can be heard on the gravel in front of the house. It was dead silent inside, as not to have anything startle him with the precision lines he needed to make to get the project moving along. The front door was open, and by the time he looked, his landlord was standing directly in the doorway. Luckily for him, that landlord was none other than his niece, Amarissa Moretti, the only person that really knew everything about him. She had demanded that he live in this house, instead of in his car, bouncing around from place to place. He had agreed, only once he realized that he would be coming back to SCW, not originally noticing that it was going to mean being on a world tour immediately. He lowers his eyes back to the body of the guitar and continues to paint while addressing her.

Kris
"What brings you by?"


She shakes her head at him and laughs while she steps through the living room and into the kitchen to see what he is working on.

Amarissa
"I was in the vineyard just making sure everything is good, and everyone was actually doing something instead of just standing around collecting a paycheck."


He laughs, more focused on the paintbrush than he was on the conversation.

Kris
"What does it really matter if they are just standing around? It isn't going to affect your pocket book in any noticeable way..."


On one hand, he had a point. Amari's grandparents had made sound business choices. They passed down all of their holdings to her and her mother, and between the two of them, they had made similarly successful decisions. The family had more money than Kris cared to know about, and somehow his brother managed to convince one of them to marry his dumb ass. Amari slaps his shoulder as he raises the brush, wanting to show her dissatisfaction at his jab, but not wanting to mess up his work.

Amarissa
"Paying people to stand around is just like throwing money in the garbage. Who do you think I am, you?"


Kris drops the brush into the water instead of dipping it and wipes away sweat from his forehead as he laughs harder than before. He steps to the opposite side of the island and leans back against the counter along the wall, facing her.

Kris
"That was one time... and it wasn't garbage, it was kindling."


Amari shakes her head disapprovingly and sighs, putting her palms on the island, but not anywhere near anything remotely painted.


Amarissa
"Whatever. Same thing."


She goes to continue the small talk but Kris raises his hand and stops her from talking. She shrugs and stares blankly at her.

Kris
"We can act like you came here randomly just to bullshit, but seeing as it is the afternoon and you are unfathomably busy, there is actually a reason you came. What's up? Don't lie."


She sighs more heavily this time and raises both of her hands, palms towards him, and spilling the truth when she speaks.

Amarissa
"I heard a rumor that you made good with Jason a few days ago. I was wondering if that meant that maybe I wasn't your only lifeline to the family now. Like, maybe if we are talking and Gabby, Jason, or Elena and the baby come up you aren't going to storm out and be a dick about things for a week. That was worth a drop in, instead of a text message you could blow off and say you never got it."


He tries to suppress a smile that creeps across his face. He was guilty of doing just that on a number of occasions that they had texted each other. It was normally to get out of doing her favors when she tried to trick him into responding by asking in the middle of a different conversation. Suddenly, his phone would have problems and he wouldn't get back to her for a day or more. Or at least that was the story he told. He shrugs in response to her words though as the smile stops trying to force it's way out and into sight.

Kris
"He visited me in Italy, just like you did. He told me I was going to win, and wished me luck. We kind of put some shit to rest. I didn't get a chance to talk to him afterwards like I did you, after the show. So, I dropped in when I got off the plane to show him the belt."


Amari drops her head, but keeps her eyes locked on him. Both her tone and her face are very condescending.

Amarissa
"... and that thank you took the form of a random pick-up game of basketball and a few hours hanging out in the garage playing music?"


He crosses his arms in front of his chest while having a small laugh. He tries to roll his eyes and blow it off, but his tone of voice doesn't pull off the message he is trying to put out. Instead his words drip with sarcasm instead of ringing true.

Kris
"Yeah... sometimes thank yous happen like that. You know... "


She shakes her head with her lips wearing a smirk.

Amarissa
"Nah, I don't know. I don't apologize. Somebody gets butt hurt about something I do, to hell with them until they realize I am right."


Kris doesn't even allow for a second to pass between her words and his own.

Kris
"That sounds like a positive world view."


She scoffs and reaches to the counter behind her, grabbing a hand towel from it and throwing it at him, hitting him in the face. Her voice raises, but it is playful.

Amarissa
"That's really rich coming from the homeless addict kid that won't talk to his family because someone got pregnant!"


Kris manages to catch the towel as it falls and quickly side arms it back towards Amari. She manages to duck out of the way, having it hit the wall behind her instead of making any contact with her. She makes a teasing face and winks at him.

Kris
"Ay, I never said I was any better. I was just calling a spade a spade."


Amarissa
"So when are you leaving again? I don't really know how SCW Supercards work. Isn't it like a few weeks before you have to leave? My mom was thinking about everyone getting together."


Kris looked up, trying to hold back another smile so that his words actually came out sincere. He was happy that he wasn't going to make it, but he didn't want his explanation to come out as an excuse.

Kris
"Actually, I am headed out late tonight. I have to beat the jetlag once I get there so that I am not totally shit in the ring. The guy said some pretty mean shit last week. I have to be of sound mind to take a run at him verbally."


Amari shakes her head, and waves that thought off.

Amarissa
"You don't need time to practice running your mouth, it's practically all you do."


Again Kris doesn't let even a second pass before he retorts.

Kris
"Better than what your mouth spends all day doing..."


Amari takes serious offense to his words and comes around the island. Kris jumps into action, sprinting around the opposite side as the circles. The two try to fake each other out from opposite sides of the island, Kris trying to escape and Amari trying to anticipate which way he is going to go.

Amarissa
"Between you and Thad, the entire world probably thinks that I am a slut. From you making those kinds of jokes and him running his mouth about our sex life on Twitter, I am going to end up stabbing one of you."


Kris holds up his left hand.

Kris
"Not it.... OOOOOOOHHHH now you have to stab your boyfriend."


Amari rolls her eyes and steps away from the island, moving back towards the living room area. Kris starts to follow her out, hesitating and keeping his distance in case it is a trick.

Amarissa
"You know... it is never nice to get on my bad side when you are about to go to a foreign country. Who knows what you could come back home to?"


Kris
"A dead horse head in my bed? It's probably less scary if it is already there when I get home though. I mean, waking up next to it might be a little scary, but just walking in on it... meh."


He shrugs his shoulders and Amari turns back towards him.

Amarissa
"Seriously, when you get back, all of us should get together. We haven't had a chance to celebrate and congratulate my mother and your brother on their baby. Granted, we were both pissed. But now that you are done throwing a tantrum, I think it is time."


Kris rolls his eyes and reluctantly nods in agreement, almost as if it pains him to do so. Amari moves through the living room, and towards the door, only stopping to look at him over her shoulder as she passes through the doorway.

Amarissa
"Don't fuck up and do something stupid like lose that title while you are in Morocco."


She doesn't wait for a response before walking out, down the stairs, and working her way up the driveway and towards the vineyard. Kris shakes his head, waiting for her to be far enough out of earshot.

Kris
"Total slut..."


He laughs and turns back to the kitchen to get his mind off of his family problems and his looming title defense, and back onto something productive.


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Casablanca, Morocco
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1 May 2015 [10:51 PM]
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[On-Camera]


Kris walks alongside an alley, the camera on his right. He stretches out his right hand to the wall next to him. His fingertips glide along the uneven bricks that make up the back wall to one of the houses he walks past. As his fingers near the edge of it, where the house is separated from the one next to it by mere inches, he taps the bricks with his index finger and looks up at the building, seemingly in awe of it, despite its overall lack of qualities most would find aesthetically pleasing.

Kain, I feel like you have built me up in your head as something that I am not. I'm not going to lie and demean you by saying that I didn't care enough about what you had to say last week that I didn't watch your little promo. The only genuinely negative thing I have to say about it is that it really is kind of boring when you just sit and rant. If you are going to go on as long as you do, at least move around. Give that camera guy some exercise instead of making him a glorified tripod. I mean, look at me. I am out on the streets most of the time, I am walking around with some nobodies in recent weeks. It's more than just the way you deliver your message though. We aren't talking about fighting over just any title here. We are talking about the SCW Internet Championship. I guess I could argue that you are living up to it's namesake by sitting in your empty room and ranting at a piece of technology. There are millions of keyboard warriors on the internet that do the same thing you do in your promos. I choose to interpret it a different way though. I choose to interpret it as you shut yourself away in a room, and I stand out here with the people. I am always out here, for the fans, for the people of the country we are in, for the people that like me, for the people that hate me, and for the people that don't recognize me to see with their own two eyes. I do not spend my time indoors ranting about a championship. As far as I am concerned the SCW Internet Championship belongs in the public eye. That is what the internet does. It brings things that people had never seen before, all in one place to be viewed. That is why you see me hyping this match on Twitter. That is why you see me cutting promos from the streets of whatever city we are in. That is why, every week, you see me on Climax Control busting my ass just to get thirty seconds worth of air time. I am doing something that a CHAMPION does. I am showing off this belt to the world and getting it on television for those that tune into the show.

He starts to walk again, a few passersby walk the other way, and Kris nods at them as they pass between him and the camera. Several seconds later a boy on a bicycle cuts through the frame as well. The alleyway is narrow, so much so that even standing against the wall across from Kris, the lens cannot see below the man's waist. The look on his face is one of resentful judgement, having heard his opponent's claims last week, and obviously displeased by some of the accusations.

Do you honestly think that you did the same when you held it? Where is your internet presence, Kain? Where are your autograph signings and public appearances? Where is your on screen presence when you aren't actually in the ring competing? From where I sit, all of those things are nonexistent. You talked last week like this belt is yours and I stole it. I am telling you this week that if the way you have acted while you held this belt is the way you are going to act if you beat me in a few days, then you don't even deserve the chance to fight for it. This is not some championship to hide away. It doesn't have history like the Roulette or SCW Championships. When I won this title I knew that it didn't have the same aura of accomplishment that the others in this company do. No, this title's history is being written everyday. This title's prestige is growing with every fan that sees it. The person holding this championship is the one responsible for making it live up to its name. You held it, and you failed to do that. Now it's mine, and I am not going to make the same mistake you did. I may be a nobody. I may be a guy that gets cut off during interviews, or even inside the ring in the middle of a sentence, but if you notice, for those brief moments the cameras are on me, they are also on the SCW Internet Championship. I have watched every promo that you have made since holding this championship. There is not a single one where you aim to reach out to the people it represents. The defining example of that is you talking down to every person you go against and refer to yourself as if you are god-like. This title is not for someone like that. This title is for the internet and those people are mostly average people. These are people that just do their job, go home to their families, surf whatever websites they frequent, maybe take in an SCW show or laugh at the lot of us bickering on social media. These are the constituents of the SCW Internet Championship. They don't need to be led by a god. They need to be led by someone like them. Look at me, I am nothing if not average by definition. I am not a larger than life body builder like you see in this industry. I am not someone who likens themselves to a superhero, or tries overtly hard to be a villain. I am not supernatural. I am not unreasonably gifted in the technical aspects of this business. People that tune in look at me and see someone that they can relate to. The only gift that I really have is speed and the lack of common sense that tells most people in this business that using your body like a wrecking ball, without thought to injury, is high risk and often for no reward. I call myself a nobody because if you put me in the middle of any crowd, or in any spot in a police line-up and ask a person to pick out the wrestler in the group, I am not likely to be even considered. I am an every man. I am the very definition of the average person on the internet. Therefore, I have infinitely more right to hold this championship that you do. So saying things like I stole it from you, is a joke that isn't even worth laughing at.

At the point that he started to become heated, Kris cuts himself off. Indeed, if his last statement was meant as a joke, he proves himself correct in refraining to find any humor in it. Instead, there is just a look of annoyance left. Kris reaches the end of the alley, and turns to his right, running his hand along the wall with his back to the camera. The camera slowly moves around to his left, coming as far as to be directly next to him.

Do you need some kind of proof of the fact that I am just a normal guy, Kain? Look at me, look at my surroundings. Here I am, staying in, and walking around in the alleyways south side of the city. I am not knocking the place, these streets have history. There are shops here that sell anything and everything and the culture of the country is all around me. However, look at some of the other people on this tour. People are put up in the five star hotels in the center of the city that most people cannot afford to even look at. People are undoubtedly going to talk about The Corniche, or even Old Medina. People are going to put themselves in front of a camera in front of beautiful buildings like The King Hassan II Mosque, or the Mahkama du Pacha. Look at me though, I am not one of those people that come to a country and throw around money to experience the best of the best. I am in a foreign country and I want to be in a place where there are others like me. Sure, there are worse places to go in this city. I could travel a little further east and be in a part of the city where I run the risk of being mugged because I am obviously a tourist, and tourists have money. I am not trying to convey the message that I surround myself with the worst of the worst. I am not dumb enough to think that I fit in with that group of people, when my face is on television every week. Make no mistake about it though, right here, in this part of the city, is where I am at home, away from home. You might see me as something that I am not, but I know exactly who I am. Undoubtedly you have an opinion of me that you have formed from the things I said last week, the things I said before our last match, and the things I did inside the ring with you. I might even go as far as to think that you may have even looked at my whole stretch in SCW in scouting me out before our last match. What you probably don't understand, or would rather not delve into, is that you have but a small picture of who I am. People know my last name. They know my brother. The fact that they relate my name with his, does not at all mean that they relate my personality to his. My last name is not who I am. My brother is driven by possessions, flashy things, flashy family, flashy companies. Me? I live out of a suitcase, even when I am at home. I don't own things, because I am the kind of person that doesn't want anything weighing me down. I am like this because of the way I grew up. You don't know about that though do you? You want a clearer picture? Then listen up.

Kris puts his back against the wall as they near the middle point of the alley. He makes sure to back up as far as he can, with the man operating the camera doing the same on the opposite wall of the alley. A few people pass between them, with Kris nodding to them with a silent greeting as they murmur apologies for interrupting the shot. Kris sighs heavily, and lowers his eyes to the ground as he speaks.

Why don't I fit in with the poorest of the poor in the world? I wasn't born into that group. See, my parents had this nice little house right on the beach in La Jolla, California. I was born in that house and I was forced to stay in it until I was eighteen years old. My parents were smart enough to buy something in their price range when they were in their early twenties. By the time I was born, that shit was bought and paid for, and we were stuck there, no matter what happened. What happened you are asking? My little sister died when my brother and I were left at home before he was even a teenager. My mom spent more time trying to pick up random guys at bars after that because my father spent all his time outside staring at the beach. Next thing I know, moms is in trouble with the cops, she goes away for years for stealing more money than she knew what to do with and blowing it on any guy that would give her ten minutes of attention. She went away, and what was dad to do? Who was he going to take his frustrations out on nightly when he realized just how many pieces his life had shattered into? Who was he going to go see in the middle of the night with his wife not around to perform her duties? Am I painting a clear enough picture for you when it concerns me as a teenager?

He seems to shake all of those memories out of his head, as pushes himself away from the wall. He starts moving down the alley again, like he is attempting to leave those memories in the alley behind him. As they walk, he seems to become slightly more relieved, allowing his eyes to travel up from the ground as he starts to recall more recent times in his life.

My brother forced me to stay in that house, and dropped out of school in order to make sure that I had food on the table to eat, even if he had to work so much that he was unable to be there to protect me from whatever else happened inside. Of course, by the time that I could leave, what was there to do for someone like me? I picked up a guitar. I spent hours playing it until I was good enough for some people to let me drink in bars for the night before I was of age to do so. Now, this next part I really don't have to paint for you. If you know anything about me, you already know my drug problems. If you have taken a single look at the bend at my elbows you have seen the damage done to them that will continue to be a scar for the rest of my life. You have heard the stories my brother tells about the several times he has forced me into rehab. You have heard that last time I left SCW it was exactly for that reason. That time in my life, from drugs, to homelessness, to wandering around without any contact with the world is very much public knowledge. I have problems, and have had an upbringing like millions of people in this world. I have never had one thing handed to me in my life. If you take a second to look into my history you will find that the percent chance of me ending up on television is vastly overshadowed by the chance I ended up dead in a ditch or alleyway before I made it to 25. Yet, here I am. And I want you to take a look at my current surroundings and understand why I choose to walk around these places. An alleyway like this, surrounded by normal people buzzing in the streets and going about their lives, is the place that, statistically speaking, I should have died. I am just like any one of them. I am not a god. I am not a king. I am not anything but normal. If you doubt that, even now, then there is no hope of trying to reason with you. I am the very type of person that the SCW Internet Championship is made to represent. You, are not.

As if to make his point more emphatic, he points to himself during the former part of his final statement and at the camera during the latter. He had a tendency of talking to his opponents, instead of to the audience directly, and he hesitates for just a moment realizing how uneasy some of his comments might have made the viewers. He shrugs it off though, being there was nothing he could do about it now. He motions to the cameraman to follow him as he starts moving again, this time seeming to actually show signs of his usual personality. There is a playfulness in his tone of voice.

I think what caught me off guard about what you said last week was that you said you were going to, "deny me my dream". In all of your ranting and raving about how you were going to come back stronger than ever before, that I should be scared of how determined you are, that I was going to underestimate you, that was the thing that rung most false in my ears. My dream is not this championship. My dream is not any championship. My dream is not this company. My dream is not any company in particular. When I decided that this was that I wanted to do with my life, and started training to be able to outlast people just with mere stamina in the ring, it was just so that I could get paid to do something that I enjoy doing. What people like you, people that put themselves on a pedestal, don't realize is that not everyone is up there on top of one with you. I am not aiming to be the best of all time. I have no delusions of grandeur that say holding this title even puts me in contention for that kind of position in this industry. I am a kid, who is just happy to be able to step inside the ring and do my thing for something like twenty minutes a night. My thing? Most people really can't stand it. When my music hits or my face comes up on the big screen I am normally booed or ignored. None of that bothers me. I am not trying to project some kind of bad guy persona. I am just a guy that will do anything to win inside the ring. If that means taking a little shortcut by removing a turnbuckle bad, grabbing onto the ropes for some extra torque on a submission, or pulling your tights to get some leverage on a pin, you bet your ass I am going to do it. Each win, and each good match keeps me in this company for another week. My dream, is just existing here. The only way that you can take that away from me is to kill me, and I think, even with your talks of sending me to hell, that you wouldn't dare cross that line. Break my bones if you are so inclined. I can roll down the entrance ramp in a wheelchair, with a computer narrating what I cannot vocalize like Stephen Hawking. I will still be living my dream, because the only thing that I need, is to be here.

Kris pulls his head back into his shoulders and looks oddly up and to his right, using his right arm to mimic using the joystick of an electric wheelchair. He holds the position for a moment to allow everyone to get the visual of him, and then raises both hands to the camera, pointing at it with both index fingers to get everyone's attention before walking backwards, facing the camera with his arms still pointing towards it.

To you, holding a championship, in this case the SCW Internet Championship, is something that makes you a better person. It allows you to take another step up a ladder that you want to be on top of. You don't understand me at all, because you don't know what it is like to be completely happy with what you currently have. You say you fought, and clawed your way into the position that you are in now. If that were true, the fact that you are even here would be enough for you. Instead, you are still climbing that ladder looking for some kind of happiness, acknowledgement, or reassurance that what you think about yourself is what others think about you. If you truly knew what it was like to fight, scratch, claw, and steal your way all the way through life, you wouldn't need that validation. I am validated by being here, and being able to talk to the world. I get all of the recognition and acknowledgement that I need just by seeing that I am on the card, or scheduled to appear each week. You scream that you want this title back, but it only comes off as a desperate cry for attention. If you want it that bad, then come and take it. The thing about being happy about where I am in life, is that I go into situations level-headed. You may say that you aren't going to come in angry, and make mistakes. You may say that you are stronger and more focused than before. The fact remains, once you feel that the thing you want the most is slipping away from you during this match, you are going to lose your head and start making mistakes. Me? If you start to kick my ass, it is merely what I signed up for when I put my name on the SCW contract. If I lose, it is all just part of the business. Your intensity and your lust for acknowledgement is what is going to make sure that I leave Morocco with the SCW Internet Championship though. In the worst case scenario for me in this match, my head is still clear. When all hope seems lost, I am still planning out my next move like I am at the ringing of the opening bell. You will fail to get a rise out of me, like I have of you. When you are laying on the mat beaten, I want you to realize that it was your fault, not mine.

Kris finally stops walking, shaking his head, almost in disappointment. There is really no joy on his face as he stares straight into the eyes of anyone watching. It was as if he was about to give a eulogy.

I gave you the tools, Kain....

He raises his closed fist out to the camera.

For your promo.

As he speaks he unclenches his index finger from his fist and holds it upright.

For your approach to the last match.

He raises his middle finger alongside the first, indicating the two tools he had listed so far.

For my approach to the last match.

His ring finger extends and joins the other two.

For a clear picture of me personally.

He extends his pinky.

...and finally, I let you inside my head to tell you how I am going to beat you this time.

The thumb of his outstretched hand finally raises, having listed all of his thoughts. He turns his hand around, holding his his palm out, with all five digits extended.

That is five messages I have tried to relay, and if you followed them all, maybe you walk out the champion. If not, then it is your own damn fault you lost, and I am not going to lose any sleep feeling guilty that you may be staring up at your hotel ceiling late Sunday night, lacking any validation for how hard your tried to beat me, and failed yet again.

He steps closer to the camera so that only his face is visible. The walls of the alley disappear behind his head, which is half-shadowed.

I am Kris.

His smirk turns into a full smile, and his eyes narrow.

A Nobody Amongst Nobodies.

His smile widens, hoping that people understand where he is going with his choice of words.

....and I have spoken.

78
Supercard Archives / KRIS HALC (c) vs KAIN
« on: April 25, 2015, 10:28:44 PM »
 Los Angeles, California
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20 April 2015 (5:06 PM)  
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Off-Camera [Inner Thoughts]

The sun is beating down on the pavement of the LAX long term parking lot. It is probably only barely seventy degrees outside but between his dark clothes, and the heat radiating up off the pavement it felt more like mid-eighties. He pulls the keyless entry remote from his pocket and starts to mash the lock button, listening for his car to respond with beeps. "I should really learn to save a memo in my phone for wherever I park. How the hell am I supposed to remember something like that for three weeks? Then it is all more of the same. I wander around this parking lot for a half hour or so before I even catch a break. It could be worse though. I could still be overseas. I could be in yet another hotel room. I should be glad I am home. I get to sleep in my own bed." He turns as he hears the car respond with two sharp beeps. His head whips in the direction of it, scanning the nearby rows for the black sports car. He locates it and adjusts the bag on his shoulder before moving that direction. "There she is. My bed is all well and good, but this beauty is really the perk of being home. No more trains, and no more subways for this guy. I'm going to get behind the wheel of this bitch and just forget about all that public transportation. That's probably the main reason I won't ever leave the states. I would miss driving too much for sure." He reaches the Porsche 991, a gift from Cody Taylor that he can barely afford the insurance on, and finally clicks the button on the remote to unlock it. He pops the trunk on the front and lifts it, throwing his shoulder bag into it and smiling lightly when he hears it clank against the side. "This time I brought home fifteen extra pounds of metal. Nobody thought I was going to pull that off, but I showed them. Well, at least those that were paying attention. I busted my ass, went through that match on my terms, and came out with the first title of my career. If I keep looking at it like that, maybe it will take the sting off the fact that not even winning the title could get me five minutes to talk in the center of the ring." He raises his small suitcase into the trunk and wiggles the two bags a little so that they fit in such a compact space. He smiles thinking of how many suitcases he had to go through in order to find one that would actually fit in it. He closes it gently and moves around, opening his door and sitting down in the driver's seat. "I am home. I don't even have to drive to the house. To be honest, that house isn't mine. Amari pressured me into staying there because she didn't like the idea of me bouncing around from place to place. I used to live in cars, but sitting in this one isn't what feels like home either. It is this place. It is this city in general. I felt it as soon as I touched down, before I even got off of the plane. All of that shit that bothered me overseas doesn't mean a thing here. All of those people that don't know me when they see me on the screen are irrelevant. In this city, everyone knows me, or at least the people that are part of my daily routine. For the next two weeks, every face I see is going to know who I am, and what I have accomplished in the last month. Every person that I see is going to congratulate me. Everyone is going to want to hear me talk about the match, and the countries, I have been to. I don't have to beg for five minutes of attention here. I can get it in hour long blocks without even having to snap my fingers to make it happen." He thrusts the key into the ignition of the car, and turns it. The engine roars to life effortlessly. He holds the clutch, and revs the engine, just to admire the power of it with a smile on his face. He allows himself a laugh with the final thought that comes to mind before he pulls out. "Everywhere else in this world I am a Nobody, but in Los Angeles, I am a Somebody. How exactly does that work?" He spins the tires as he drops into first gear without letting the RPMs drop first. The car whips out of the space and the further he gets from the space, the further he gets from thinking about all of the lack of recognition he gets in front of a live crowd.


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Los Angeles, California
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22 April 2015 (12:06 PM)  
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Off-Camera [Jason Halich's Home]


Kris was hoping that he wasn't going to be home. After the visit Jason paid him just a few days before he went out and won a title, Kris had to at least stop by. He wasn't necessarily happy about feeling obligated to do so. His brother surprised him and wished him luck in his match. More importantly, Kris felt that he genuinely meant it. Kris then went out and won his first championship. Sure, it was one that didn't have a long history, or really any history at all, but every belt had to start somewhere. He pulled into the driveway, only to be stopped halfway around the bend by a basketball rolling across his path. A smile came to his lips and he looked down to the clock on his dashboard. Apparently Jason still came out to practice at noon. The guy's routine hadn't changed in years. Kris killed the engine, and popped out of the car, scooping up the SCW Internet Championship in his right hand. He closes the door with his left and then jogs over to the basketball. He picks it up with his palm as his brother comes around the corner, surprised.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
You know, twenty years of practicing every afternoon and your jump shot still sends an air ball down the driveway. Thank god you married a rich chick, right?


Jason doesn't battle him with a response. He walks around the car and points at the championship belt in his younger brother's hand. Kris nods and tosses it to him. The weight of it doesn't catch Jason off guard at all. He clearly had more than enough experience carrying them around. Kris tries to run through all of them in his head, but loses count and shakes it off before it can make him feel any more inferior. It was good that he did, or else he would have missed Jason's words and felt even more embarrassed.

♥Jason Halich♥
This is nice, little brother. My first one was that SIW Television Championship and it was ugly as all fuck. They had to redesign the damn thing while I was carrying it because everyone thought it was an eye sore. This... this is much better than where i started. I can pretty much say that about your starting out as a whole...


Kris' brow furrowed a little, as his brother hands the belt back to him. Kris places it against the windshield of the car, resting above the paint on the hood by resting above the windshield wipers. He dribbles the basketball between his legs, moving around the front of the car, but the look doesn't fade from his face.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
What exactly do you mean by that? My starting out has been better than yours?


Jason nods and holds his hands out for the ball. Kris catches it in his right hand off the dribble around his back and passes it to his older brother. However, as he releases it, he puts backspin on it. It bounces halfway between them and returns back to Kris as Jason swipes at it and misses.

♥Jason Halich♥
Look at you. I went to SIW and fought to get a start for months. That place was only around for like four months before it closed. Then it opened, and closed again. Every few months I was out of a job. Look at where you are at. Sure, you hit a few duds on the way there, but SCW is legit. You won a title in a company that isn't going anywhere. That TV title I won was useless for everything other than a paperweight just a couple weeks after I won it. What you got carries weight.


Kris nods. He hadn't actually thought about it like that before. Even moments ago, he was running through the sheer number of belts his brother had won. Of all of the companies, only one was still in business. Of the three belts he won there, only one of them was still active. As far as present day is considered, the two of them have the same number of relevant championship reigns. It gave Kris that warm feeling inside.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
It is nice to hear you finally talk some shit about SIW. Man, I am getting tired of you lot of old fucks talking about how it was the glory days.


Kris holds the ball out to his right like he is going to move that way, but when Jason breaks to cut him off from the hoop, Kris crosses over and fades away, letting the ball go at the top of his leap. He didn't even have to watch it fall to know it was going in the hoop. It spins around the rim before dropping in. Jason moves back towards the basket and catches it as it falls. Once he gets his fingers on it, he pushes it back towards Kris.

♥Jason Halich♥
To all of us that were there, that company was magical. To the rest of the world, everyone in that company was a nobody. Regardless of whatever we did there, that company folded and none of it matters anymore. That is the way this industry works.


Over the past few months Kris had built up his hatred for his brother by reinforcing the idea that he was an egotistic asshole in his own mind. Hearing him talk now, after having his head cleared by Jason's apology in Italy, Kris realized how stupid he had been. He had been being irrational. He had acted like a child.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I guess we are on even footing now. All them companies that made you famous are dead and gone.


Jason smiles and shakes his head.

♥Jason Halich♥
Don't forget that I own one that keeps my name pretty much in every household.


A small laugh escapes Kris' mouth and he spins the ball in his hand, tossing it up with just his left. He never missed free throws. After Jason moved out of their childhood home, Kris spent almost all day, everyday, at the park down the street playing ball, or out on the beach staring at the sky. The ball drops through the hoop without touching the rim, and Jason swats it back to him.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
Imma just start calling you the bank if you just gonna stand there and not contest these shots. You are gonna be glued to that rim kicking me back change all day long.


Jason comes out from the hoop and raises a hand out to Kris as he spins the ball in both hands.

♥Jason Halich♥
You know you choke when you feel that little bit of defense on you. I didn't want you to get embarrassed and lose your confidence. Then you'd just blame your next misfortune on me making you look silly in my driveway.


Kris fakes a move right, without lifting his feet, or dribbling the ball. Jason doesn't go for it, instead keeping his feet shoulder width apart, and a few feet between them. He is going to make Kris work for the shot.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I know what you are thinking old timer....


Kris rotates the ball around as Jason takes swipes at it without reaching in.

♥Jason Halich♥
What's that, little brother?


Kris laughs, holding the ball out to his brother, and then jerking it back to the right side of his rib cage when Jason goes for it, still not having taken a step or dribbled a single time.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
You're thinking that you are safe to play flat footed out here because you have the height advantage. If I try to go up, you are just going to swat it back in my face.


Jason shakes his head with a smile.

♥Jason Halich♥
Actually, the only thing I am thinking of right now is that I should have installed a shot clock because you are wasting time.


Kris turns his body so his right shoulder is to Jason and dribbles the ball on his left side, moving down the lane and towards the basket. Jason steps up and shoulder checks him when he refuses to move backwards. Kris would call the foul, but his brother's feet were planted before they actually made contact with one another. Kris tries to roll to his right, but Jason is right there. The older brother smacks at the ball, actually making contact. Kris loses control of it, but moves faster than Jason, regaining possession, but losing his position. He laughs at being forced back out to the arch.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
That was luck and you know it.


♥Jason Halich♥
If that is what you have to tell yourself in order to sleep at night.


Kris smiles and takes a step to his left. Jason moves with him, but Kris spins on his heel, dribbling the ball on his backside and wheeling around Jason. He has a clear look at the basket and drives the lane. He palms the ball, taking two running steps, trying to lay it up into the basket, but Jason is right there with him. The older brother swats the ball as it touches the glass, and blocks the shot. It rebounds hard off the glass and rolls down the driveway as the two stand there catching their breath.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I knew I should have just hit the fade away after I almost broke your ankles out there.


Jason laughs and gives his younger brother a shove away from him.

♥Jason Halich♥
No easy lay-ups. You aint coming up in my house and dropping easy points on me like that.


Kris moves away, unable to stop his own laughter.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I didn't come to drop any points on you. You're the one almost hit my car with your air ball.


Jason looks down the driveway and sees the ball wedged under the front bumper of the car, and frowns.

♥Jason Halich♥
Well, your bitch ass getting blocked actually hit the car.


Jason points down the driveway and Kris follows his finger. He shakes his head and holds his arms up.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
C'mon man... You know... I blame you....


Jason comes over and puts his arms around his brother's shoulders.

♥Jason Halich♥
I called that one... always blaming your problems on me.




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Los Angeles, California
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25 April 2015 (9:47 PM)  
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On-Camera [Kristopher Halich's Home]


The scene opens focused on the front door of Kris' house. There are two people sitting on the front deck area. They have the hoods of their black sweatshirts pulled up over their heads. They are both looking down at the ground, their faces shaded from the light. The door to the house opens, with Kris Halich stepping out of it. The hood of his red sweatshirt is not raised over his head, instead his face is fully visible. The damage that had been done to his face two weeks before has fully healed. Kris looks around, and nods for the two to start following him as he moves off of the deck.

"So here we are. We are two weeks removed from Italy, where I walked out with the SCW Internet Championship. I was beaten, bloodied and bruised at the end of that match. More importantly, I was beaten, bloodied and bruised going into that match. That is the lesson that I wanted to make sure that Kain took away from that match. I want him to understand the training that I did going into that match. I want him to understand what exactly it says about him as a competitor."

As Kris and the two nobodies move down the gravel road next to the vineyard he lives behind, two more come from either side of the camera, and join up with the three. Kris is now flanked with two men on each side. He raises his hand and brushes the smile off of his face.

"See, before that match, I had Amy Marshall beat the living shit out of me. I had her scout and dissect me less than twenty-four hours before the bell rang. I was bruised and beaten before you even got your hands on me. I knew exactly what the worst case scenario was going to be, and let me tell you what... you didn't come close to it. The former Bombshell World Champion, a female, put a beating on me worse than the one that you did. I didn't get to go into our match at 100% because of the way that I trained. However, you took shot after shot at me and each time, I couldn't help but think of how much worse it felt during training. I planned on training until my entire body was numb. I succeeded. When all was said and done, you couldn't stop me from walking away with a title. So, you might ask yourself, how am I going to one up that training for this match?"

The five nobodies keep walking up the road. They are joined by two more, again one coming in from each side of the camera as the group moves forward. Kris gives each of them a nod as the fall in line with the rest of the pack.

"I knew the second that the bell rang and I was handed the title, that this rematch was coming up sooner rather than later. I knew that in order to withstand the fight you would put me through the first time, that I would need to take a worse beating beforehand. This time, that isn't necessary. Now I know how hard you can hit. Now I know how you move around the ring. Now I know exactly what I have to do to beat you. I needed to train like I did before our last match because I didn't have the one thing that everyone typically needs to walk away the winner in a big match. I didn't have confidence in my own ability. Instead, I focused on putting myself through enough hell that I could doubt your ability. I couldn't trust myself, so instead I neutralized what you could do to me. I don't need to do that this time, because confidence is no longer a problem. I beat you. I have done something in reality that you have claimed to do in your promos, but have, to this point, failed."

Again, two more people join the crowd. Kris goes to start talking after greeting them each with the signature nod of approval. However, before he can start two more join the group. The camera keeps moving backwards, but Kris and the rest of the group stop. The camera wheels around, seeing that it is now surrounded by these individuals in black hooded sweatshirts. By the time it spins back around to Kris, he is just inches from the monitor.

"Sorry about having to surround the camera there buddy. I don't know if you have noticed, but I have been having a little bit of trouble keeping the focus on me. I have been plagued with cameramen running away to a bigger scoops. I have been cut off by my camera feed being terminated in the middle of sentences. So, now that I know that you are going anywhere, I just have one thing to say."

The group moves in around Kris and the camera, creating a barrier between Kris, and the rest of the world. All that exists in the center are Kris and the camera. Behind that is a wall of black.

"I know that you are going to come and spill the same shit Kain. I told you that you were unoriginal, and you lived up to my words. You said the same shit to me that you said the week before to someone else. I would be willing to put money on the fact that you are going to say the same shit to me this time that you did last time. So, in case you missed it, let me drop some rehashed knowledge on you. In your own words, you said the internet needs to be fresh each time. Take your own advice when it comes to promos. Take your own advice when it comes to matches. Take your own advice when it comes to training. Why? Because that is exactly what I have been doing, and when the two of us are in the ring together, I have won 100% of the time. Think about that homie... it'll do you some good."

Kris backpedals, and the wall of bodies separate far enough for him to fit through. He disappears behind them, as they close in around the camera, which cuts to black.

79
Climax Control Archives / A Nobody
« on: April 10, 2015, 11:58:27 PM »
 10 April 2015
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Milan, Italy
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Off-Camera


[Inner Thoughts]
Amy was not lying in the least when she tweeted that

she kicked my ass in the gym today. She hits as hard as a guy that is

three times her size, and has a zero moral compass when it comes to

someone like me asking her to hurt me. Maybe I reached out to her the

other day because, in the back of my head, I already knew this. Maybe it

was just that she was really the only thing close to a friend that I had

in SCW. It seems like the rest of everyone on the roster, and now even

the interviewers, have written me off already. I couldn't get a word in

after Delia cut my interview off. I did not even get a simple "Sorry

Kris, I have to go. Good luck in your match!" from Stoner, even though

he has been the one guy in the back I have talked to for every single

interview, on every Climax Control, since I started in this company.



As he steps off of the elevator, he looks around. From hotel

to hotel, country after country, he could never remember which way his

room was. In all honesty, he never really spent any time in them

anyways. It was a place for sleeping, nothing else. Being stuck in a

room day after day, and minute after minute, seemed like a waste when

they were visiting places on this world tour that he had never been to,

and probably would not get to see again. He looks down at the room

keycard in his hand and nods, then looks up at the sign in front of him

to make sure he is on the right floor before turning in the direction of

his room. For some reason, he always got stuck at the end of the

hallway. He was nearly always on the opposite end of the ice machine and

vending machines, and about as far away from the central hallway

elevators as he could possibly be. It was just his luck that this was no

different, even in Italy.


To be honest, for the first few weeks, it didn't even

bother me. I mean, I went into that Roulette Championship match billing

myself as an unknown. I told everyone that it was going to be to my

advantage to do so. Unfortunately, I was terribly wrong in that

assumption. What made it worse was being put through that damn dumpster.

Is there a more embarassing way to lose a match? I mean really. That is

why I needed Amy this time around. Aside from all the flirtation, that

is in no way mild, she knew this business better than anyone. She knows

what it means to hold a title, and has done so. I am pretty sure she has

won most of them in SCW, but I don't know. I haven't been around long

enough to pick up on all of the history, and studying it for curiosity

would just be a waste of time when I could take a train and see things

that I have only seen in the textbooks from high school. Fucking high

school man, that feels like forever ago. Seven years... and where did

they go?


He shakes the thought out of his head as he reaches his door

at the end of the hallway. He turns the key card over in his hand before

figuring out the way it slides into the door. He does so and the light

flashes red a few seconds before it goes green and the lock clicks open.

The door isn't even fully closed behind him before he reaches down for

the bottom edge of his shirt and pulls it off, despite every muscle in

his body straining and telling him not to.


This soreness will heal up before the match. Amy had

really followed through with what she promised. I threw every move that

I have in my arsenal at her. We planned through every circumstance in

which I would use any move that I typically do in a match, and I had her

counter every single one of them. I told her what was coming, and I told

her to not hold back when it came to stopping me from doing it. The

bruises? Those will stick around. I guess I should be thankful that I

wear those long , form-fitting shirts in my matches to hide the track

marks. It will help to mask the bruises so that they don't become

targets for this Internet Champion to wail on as soon as the bell rings.

There was a point to this kind of training that I couldn't get from

scouting, watching matches, or watching this guy's promos. Doing all of

that will help me beat him, but will not help me beat myself. It is all

about improvement. It is all about knowing what it is I am going to try

in the match, and knowing the feeling that it is going to go wrong. It

is not about being able to take a punch, or a kick, or some technical

move. I can take a beating pretty well, I learned that before I was even

seven. I can get up from those beatings. What I can't do, is see my

errors before I make them. That is what Amy did for me today. For every

step I made, she showed me how someone would counter.... and by show me,

I mean put me on my ass in the middle of the ring, holding whatever body

part she targeted as the pain flowed through my body. How many times

did she knock the breath out of me? I wouldn't dare try to count. How

many times did she make me tap out? More than I will ever admit to

anyone. How much did I grow as a competitor? I guess that I will have to

wait and see on Sunday.


He moves across the room and tosses his shirt on the couch.

There was a weird quiet in the room. Normally Clarissa was there with

him, but she had other obligations. When your interviewing job keeps you

in the states, your clients are left to their own devices in a foreign

country. Sure, she would call him an hour or so before the show. She

would hit him with the pep talk she thinks he needs. At the end of the

day though, she isn't here so it didn't matter. He wasn't going to dwell

on it for a second. He kicks off his training shoes, putting them in

front of the couch and moving towards the bathroom.


If I walk into that match and I lose, who knows when

the next title shot comes around? Someone in management is clearly

paying attention to me, or else I wouldn't have gotten two title shots

within a month of each other. That, at the very least, means that

someone in the company is paying attention, and liking what they see.

Does that voice drown out the rest of the others in my head? Absolutely

not. Is that going to make the roster take notice of me? Probably not. I

know that most of the roster probably doesn't sit in front of a computer

screen and watch everyone else's promos every week. I didn't used to,

but I did for the last couple shows. Something that Krissy said before

facing Roxi the third time has stuck with me since. She said winning the

Internet Championship is a career death sentence. Now, I am in this

match, and I am torn. On one hand, I have failed twice in this company

when gold was on the line, and once in another company. I want nothing

more than to break that curse and get that voice in the back of my head

to shut up when it tells me that I will choke every time. One the other

hand, maybe it would actually hinder me if I did win. I haven't been

able to shake that thought, no matter how hard I have tried. Will people

think of me as a mediocre champion, if I win it? Is that any better than

people not thinking about me at all? If I had to ask a random person on

the street if they would rather be faceless in a crowd, or seen as below

average, what would they say? I haven't found the answer myself. Maybe

someone can find it for me.


He looks in the bathroom mirror, taking inventory of the

bruises on his back. They were already going from the puffy red swelling

from first contact, to ever-darkening circles. The one on his left side,

from when he had spring-boarded off the middle rope, looking for a

roundhouse kick, but being speared out of the air by a woman a little

under half his side was already a shade of green, well on its way to

purple. There were only three days before the show. Was that enough time

for it to stop being sensitive? Maybe so. Maybe not. He turns around,

and reaches behind the curtain of the shower, turning the dial until the

water that poured from the faucet was lukewarm. A cold shower sounded

painful. A warm shower felt like it would just make the swelling worse.

He drops his work-out shorts, checking a second mark on the back of his

right thigh. He had set up for the SmackShot and taken down hard knees

to the back of his leg. Coming off a full forward rotation, the blow had

put him on his back and broken one of the straps of his knee brace.

Before removing his boxers to get in, he noticed the lack of towels in

the vicinity. Italy hotels were silly like that, or at least this one

appeared to be. They were in the bedroom closet. He exits the bathroom,

leaving the shower running, and tosses his shorts onto the couch next to

his shirt.


Faceless or not, it is going to be a huge setback if I

lose this match. I am not going to be dumb enough to tell them that this

time in my promo this time. I went in doubtful and then when I lost,

they all had a reason to laugh. I am done with that shit. If I lose, I

am going to lose after ripping a guy to shreds. That makes sense, right?

Here I am, beaten and bruised from trying make sure I can tear him to

shreds inside a ring. Why would I give him the benefit of not doing that

to him if he actually watches my little promo video. Sure, those things

are mainly for the fans. I doubt most of the roster pays them any mind.

However, if this guy is dumb enough to watch it, I want that little

nugget of doubt to creep into his head. I used to think that I didn't

care about the mental game. Maybe I only care a little now because my

skill inside a ring hasn't been up to par. This week, I am going to

change that, even if that is the only thing that I manage to do.



He turns from the couch with a smile. Even if they were just

his own words in his head, that nobody would ever hear, he felt better

talking himself through it. It is a short distance from the small living

area to the bedroom, and he pushes the door open. It is only then that

he realizes that he hasn't been alone in the room the whole time, as he

had thought. He hadn't been alone at all.


JASON HALICH:I was starting to think that

maybe they let me into the wrong room.

Jason was sitting back on the bed. His hands were folded

across his lap, with his legs up on the bed as he leaned against the

headboard. There was that smug smile on his face that seemed to always

appear when he was getting the better of someone. Kris couldn't have

been able to recreate his own reaction. The shock of his brother being

there, in a foreign country no less, caught him completely off guard.

For a few moments he stutters over words, before remembering their last

exchange. At once Kris' face grows dark. The smile fades from his face.

The thoughts that he had been walking himself through since he entered

the room where now the furthest thing from his mind.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: What are you doing in

Milan? Better yet, don't you have a family to be taking care of back in

Los Angeles? I told you more than once already, we aren't friends, we

aren't brothers. Get out of my room.

Jason's expression doesn't change. It was like he had

already walked through this conversation in his head before Kris even

arrived. The younger Halich's words don't catch him by surprise, or

offend him at all. His voice comes out just as smug as his expression.



JASON HALICH: I am pretty sure that a DNA

test would say that we are brothers, as for friends, we are a lot more

than that. I get that you are pissed right now, but you will come

around, you always do. I just wanted to see how you were holding up. You

were kind of being a little bitch last time we talked. You're going into

a title match now, I figured I would make sure your mind was right.

Kris rolls his eyes and moves to the closet. He pulls it

open, trying to mask the aggression that was flowing through him. He

reaches up to the top shelf and grabs a towel, before shutting the door

gently. He leans back against the door once it is closed, but doesn't

give his brother the benefit of looking at him.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: I'm fine. More than

fine, even. I am great. I am fucking ecstatic. I am a real ball of

amazing, Jason. Now get out. That flight back to LA will be a killer.

Jason holds up his hands in front of his chest, palms facing

Kris. It is a plea of innocence. Of course, Kris knew it meant that he

didn't want to fight.


JASON HALICH: Listen Kris, honestly, I

wanted to come and apologize. You won't return a text, or answer a

phone. I didn't want the apology to fall on deaf ears either. You

deserved for me to come here and talk to you, even if you don't want to

talk to me. So if you listen, and let me say what I have to say, I will

get out of your way, and get back on my flight to Los Angeles tonight.

It is worth two days of flying to be able to tell you this to your face.

Kris shakes his head. The knuckles on his right hand go

white with how hard he grips the towel. If he was going to try and keep

his emotions off of his face, he was going to need to take it out on

something. Luckily for the towel, it didn't have feelings.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: Alright then Jason, say

what you have to say. You have five minutes.

JASON HALICH: That is more than enough, as

long as you don't turn this into a screaming match. If you act like a

bitch, then you are going to have to allow me some more time.

Kris would blame Jason's asshole sense of humor on the fact

that he had made a great life for himself. He would like to say that his

dick attitude came after all of the successes of his adult life.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Jason had learned sarcasm around

the time that Kris started to be able to vividly remember things as a

child. Jason had always been like this. If anything, he had lightened up

over time.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: By my count, you just

wasted about thirty seconds of your five minutes,and you still have yet

to get to a point worth listening to.

It was odd. Kris didn't realize that the same tone that

Jason just used to irritate him, just came out of his own mouth. It was

the same kind of sarcastic jab. He almost despised himself because of

it.


JASON HALICH: Point taken. I won't

bullshit you then. You have no right to be mad about Elena, or any of

her kids, or my adopting Gabby. It is childish. You are an adult. What

do you want me to do, adopt you now? That ship as sailed Kris. Would it

have worked back when it was just me and you in San Diego? Maybe. I

don't think that a judge would have granted an eighteen year old kid

full custody of a thirteen year old. At best, they would have opened a

child abuse case, and they would have sent you to some orphanage. We had

absentee parents. We had a home that was just above being condemned that

was filled with more empty beer bottles than it was items of food. They

would have sent you away if we tried to do anything about the situation.

Would that have really helped anything? In that house, after a while,

and yeah, there were a few years that it got really bad, but by the time

you were fifteen or sixteen, it was more or less just the two of us in

that house. You weren't my kid legally, but I have always thought of you

as a shit load more important than just a brother. I know that,

somewhere inside that thick head of yours, you know that.

Kris had to turn his head to look away now. Averting his

eyes wasn't going to be enough to keep the emotion off of his face. He

turned away, simply to hide his face, and when he tried to form words,

he had to stop because he knew they weren't going to come out as cool

and collected as he wanted them to. He wouldn't be able to just blow

that off. Everything that he knew, but had pushed to the back of his

head suddenly flooded over all of the irrational bullshit, and hatred,

that he created in the last few months. Jason hesitated for a few

moments, but then the realization set in that Kris wasn't going to

respond to him. He sighs heavily, and pulls his legs off of the bed, now

looking at the floor. The sarcastic tone in his voice fades and is

replaced by one of genuine sorrow.


JASON HALICH: I fucked up Kris. I should

have told you the minute that I knew Elena was pregnant. Honestly, we

were keeping it quiet, and still haven't mentioned it to anyone other

than immediately family, in case she loses it. It was a way of

protecting her, not cutting you out. That isn't an excuse though. Elena

told Amari on the same day, and if I had to guess, she was the one that

told you. You are the only one that would really understand her feelings

on that. I mean, I am sure you two kind of felt the same about it. I saw

the way that she trashed Elena's office after she got the news. I have

been scared to mention it because I had no idea what you would do.

He pauses, and shakes his head in disappointment. Kris turns

just far enough to be able to see it out of the corner of his eye. If he

had any doubts about his brother's sincerity, they washed away when he

saw that gesture. Although, he still couldn't find the words to say what

it was that he felt he needed to say, and Jason didn't look like he was

finished yet either. If Kris were to cut him off now, he may never know

what else he had to say. They did not have moments like these often. In

fact, Kris could count them on one hand.


JASON HALICH: Look, Kris, we already had

so many problems. You were already pissed about the adoption. You were

pissed that Elena and I got married so quickly. You thought I was moving

on without you. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that it

isn't true, I can't change the way you feel. That is up to you to do.

Jason brushes off his pants and then stands up from the bed.

He walks over to Kris and puts a hand on his shoulder. That is really

the only time that Kris becomes self-conscious about the track marks on

his arms. It was this kind of closeness that he had been conditioned to

be terrified of.


JASON HALICH: The only thing that I can do

is apologize for all of it. I take responsibility for everything. I

changed my whole life around, and you were practically treated like any

other person in the world that doesn't know me. I didn't talk to you, so

it was like you were anyone on my roster. I treated you like I knew your

name, but didn't give a damn about you personally. I'm sorry little

brother. You deserved better. You have every reason to be pissed off

because I treated you like that. When I came to you last week, I hadn't

stopped to think about it from your perspective. I came at you angry. I

didn't try to understand you.

Kris holds back his words. Anything that he had to say right

now would be clouded. If he said that he wasn't angry anymore, it would

be a lie. If he said that it was alright, it might not be once he has

time to stew about it when Jason was gone. The way he felt in this

moment was not going to be indicative of how he would feel after he had

time to process everything. He wanted nothing more than to hug his

brother and say that none of it mattered, but he didn't want to wish he

could take it back later. So, instead, he said nothing. He bit his

bottom lip for a moment and then nodded. He tries as hard as he can to

muster some of the sarcasm in his voice from earlier.



KRISTOPHER HALICH: Good Jason. Great. By my

count though, your five minutes is up. I have a shower to take and

people to meet for dinner. If you don't mind.

Jason nods, and pulls his hand back. Kris motions towards

the door for him to go, and Jason doesn't hesitate to start moving

towards it. Most of Kris' brain was telling him to stop his brother and

just bury the buillshit, but he was never good at listening to that part

of himself. He was always one to listen to the little devil on his

shoulder. It was part of the reason he titled himself as the,

"Professional Addict Fuck-Up" on Twitter. He follows his brother out of

the room, and the two make their way through the small living area. As

Jason reaches the door, he does turn to Kris, who is heading into the

bathroom.


JASON HALICH: Don't overthink this match,

Kris. I have no business butting in, but I want you to know that I have

been paying attention to your matches. I even when as far as to look at

his. If you let all this outside bullshit fall off your shoulders for

the fifteen or so minutes in between those bells, then there is no way

that you don't walk out with your first title. When you do, and I mean

the exact moment you do, I will be sending you a text message

congratulating you. What I won't say then, is what I am going to say

now, I am damn proud of you, win or lose. Good luck. Make sure our last

name walks out a champion.

Kris raises his head to meet his brother's eyes, but says

nothing. He offers a small smile and a nod, which was more than Jason

had expected. He returns the smile before stepping out of the door and

closing the door gently behind himself. Kris stood there for a second,

just trying to wrap his head around the whole conversation while he

listened to the water running in the bathroom. For a few moments he

stood there before a worried look crossed his face and he ducks into the

bathroom, hoping there is some kind of warmness left in the water.



=======================================================================
=======================================================================
=======================================================================
=======================================================================

11 April 2015
======================
Milan, Italy 4:45 AM
======================
On-Camera: Back Alleys


The video opens as usual. Buildings pass by on Kris' right

side as the camera follows him from the left. The only thing different,

despite the cool air, is the lack of the hoodie that he typically buries

his arms into the pockets of, and hides his face in. He hadn't really

considered it when he told the cameraman it was time to roll, but now

that the video was rolling, he couldn't help but think it made him look

more open.


"Normally I do these things and I talk my opponent up a

little bit. That is something that you don't really see a lot from a guy

like me. I am not someone that is particularly liked. I am not the kind

of guy that plays on your feelings. I don't care if you respect what I

say, or if you don't. I can't make up your mind for you. However, back

to the point, I am not going to be talking up Kain, the current SCW

Internet Champion. Now, if you are actually paying attention to the

words that are coming out of my mouth, you are undoubtedly asking, "Why

is that, Kris?" and understandably so. To put it simply, the people that

have come before me in the ring, normally speak to their strengths. If

they have been doing nothing but winning, they talk about being

unbeaten. If it is someone that is a veteran, the talk about how much

their experience will give them an edge. When I stepped up against the

current Roulette Champion, he told me that I could not win because I

really didn't know what it takes to win a championship. All of things,

even what Alex said about me, are true. They are factual. I cannot bring

myself in front of all of you to dispute something that is fact. Yes,

people that are undefeated for a reason, it is because nobody has been

able to figure them out in the ring, and that is impressive for those

that have been at it for months at a time. Yes, most of the people on

this roster are ten times as experienced than I am in this business.

Yes, Alex, you were absolutely right. I have no idea what it feels like

to win a championship. Every time that I have tried to win a title, I

have fallen short. I do not know what it is like to hold a belt up,

knowing that it is mine. All of these things have been said to me since

I came to SCW. All of these things are true. From what I have seen from

Kain, I have zero reasons to talk him up."


Kris rounds a corner, out of the alley and onto one of the

main roads. As he moves past a building, two individuals sitting on a

ledge just above the sidewalk jump down, onto the sidewalk behind Kris

and start to walk behind him.


"Kain you call yourself the King of Kings. You step up and

rant and rave at a videocamera, but you do nothing. You don't move

around, you don't make gestures to prove your point. You are a man alone

in a room talking to himself. What exactly makes you a King of Kings?

Honestly, in watching your matches, in listening to your long and, and I

don't mean this as an insult but a statement of fact, boring promos, I

cannot come up with one thing that you are a king of. I guess an

argument can be made that you are the king of the Internet, but I bet

there are tens of millions of people that would let you know just how

stupid that claim is. That makes you no king. The fact that you think

you are a king OF kings is even more laughable. I want you to think

about the Roulette Championship, the tag team championships, or even the

SCW Championship. Are you, as the Internet Champion, the king of all of

those kingdoms? In short, absolutely not. As far as I am concerned, and

Krissy Flip said it to Roxi after she won the same title you hold, but

for the bombshells, you are a champion of those viewed as the bottom

rung. Your title does not have history. Your title does not hold

prestiege. At least not at this point. You are not a king of kings. You

are not even just a regular king. You are an idiot, standing in front of

a camera, boring the life out of anyone that wastes their ten

minutes."


Kris passes another building. Outside of the door leading inside are three men. They see the camera, and the man walking next to it and join them, walking behind the previous two. The camera moves forward a little on Kris' side, showing the five men now following him, with their hoods of their sweatshirts up over their heads, shading their faces.

"Hopefully, and I say hopefully because I would hate to know that thousands of others wished they had their ten minutes back after watching your promos, not many people actually pay you any attention. After all, people on this roster don't know who I am, and yet here I am with my second title shot. I guess I am hoping, for their sake, that you are equally ignored. On the other hand, I did mention that I watched them. When I did, a few things stuck out to me. One of the things you said in your last match was that a champion, and more specifically you, should be someone that people look up to. People should see you holding that belt above your head and think to themselves that they want to grow up and be like you. For those that are older than you, you would have them think back on their lives and wish they could alter their path in order to have been like you. You want to be a rolemodel and in saying that about yourself, you undermine what it is to be that kind of person. You put yourself on a pedestal. You talk down to everyone around you. You think that you are better, and that people should mold themselves around you. I am sorry to tell you, but that is something that other people have to say about you. You don't get to raise yourself up to that level just because your inflated ego."

Again the group pass a building. This time there are five men standing at the entrance, and as the growing flock behind Kris moves, they blend into the pack. Moments later, while Kris finds his words, another group of five joins him, and then two more.

[clolor=yellow]"The other thing that I noticed was that you said the internet, and therefore their champion, is something that is "fresh, new and original" each time you look at it. In looking at your body of work, I don't see any of those things. You rehash the exact same lines each time you talk. You speak alone in front of a camera instead of being out in this world. There is nothing fresh about you. As the weeks go by, there is less and less original about you as well. As far as I can tell, the only thing that I can agree with you on, is that the Internet Champion should be new."[/color]

The group of individuals moves into an open square at the end of the street. As the camera turns, the viewers can see dozens of people waiting, all dressed with similar sweatshirts with hoods over their heads, shading their faces. Kris and the others join with them, with Kris now standing front and center in front of the camera.

"The problem that I have with you is that you are nothing like what you say you are. You hide yourself behind some persona. Me, on the other hand, I throw myself out in front of this camera, and in those arenas every single week. There is no bullshit when it comes to me. Yet, you gain a little recognition. You put yourself up above the people. Let me tell you something man, you are afraid to show your real self, and people know you in spite of it. I speak from the heart and nobody knows my name. You want to be on a pedestal for people to look up at? Fine. Be a role model. Me? I am just Kris Halich. I am just a face in the crowd. As far as you, and the rest of this roster is concerned... I am a nobody, but then again, so is everyone behind me. I am one of them. You choose not to know them because you are only concerned with them knowing you. That is a damn shame.... but that is your loss."

As he finishes, he starts to move backwards. The crowd moves up, and in moments, Kris is just a faceless individual in the crowd of nobodies. A second later, the feed is cut off.

80
Climax Control Archives / Commitment
« on: April 03, 2015, 11:54:11 PM »
 1 April 2015
=============
Los Angeles, CA
=============
OFF-CAMERA


Another night and another win. For Kris, since returning to the ring two months ago, it had gone this way more often than it hadn't. Tonight, much like the first night he stepped into the ring on for this return, he had walked out with $100,000 in his pocket, on top of his contract pay. Granted, he wasn't in it for the money. Truth be told, he couldn't even explain to himself, let alone anyone else, why he was wrestling. It wasn't money. It wasn't travel. It damn sure was not the fans. At the moment, we was content not to think about it. He just quietly put his ring gear back into his bag. The sooner that he was out of the arena and back home, the better. He was zipping up the bag when the door to his room popped open. He didn't even have to turn to know who it was. He knew immediately that he did not want to talk to him.

Jason Halich: Hey, you looked good out there man...

Kris laughed and shook his head. He shouldered his bag and started to move towards the door. He was not going to make eye contact with his brother. He wasn't even going to give him the courtesy of talking directly to him, instead he looked past him and to the hall.

Kristopher Halich: I always look good out there. Honestly, I look good everywhere.

Kris tried to step around his brother, but his elder shoulder checked him backwards, back into the room. Kris dropped his bag on the floor and squared his shoulders to his older brother. The last time they came to blows, Jason was left face down on concrete. If he wanted a repeat experience, Kris had no problem giving it to him.

Kristopher Halich: You not going to let me walk out? I don't get the luxury of ignoring you anymore?

Jason moved in through the doorway and even went as far as to give his brother a shove backwards.

Jason Halich: This bullshit is going to end now. I have given you space to throw your tantrum for two months, kid. Now it is time to stop being a bitch.

At first, Kris just bit down on his tongue. He had just gone through hell in a ring, expending any more energy would have been a pain in the ass.

Jason Halich: What's wrong? You can be shitty when you mention my name in promos, right? You have talked all kinds of shit about me on Twitter, haven't you? You are standing in MY company talking about making it all yours, aren't you?

Kris' hands balled into fists. He took a step back as his brother advanced towards him. This was not a conversation he wanted to have.

Kristopher Halich: You are going to ambush me after a match and corner me in a locker room?

That only caused Jason to laugh. He pushed closer into the room, and Kris retreated with his every step forward.

Jason Halich: You don't answer calls, texts, emails, or post cards. You don't ever stay in one place for more than a day at a time. So, yeah. I corner you in my arena, after a show in a company I own, in order to have a conversation that we can't otherwise seem to have.

Kris could not help himself. He had backed away more. He became more angry with every moment, but had sworn to keep his mouth closed. Jason just kept advancing though, and kept pushing, and pushing. Kris was never known for patience.

Jason Halich: So whatever your problem is, you need to lay that shit out. We are brothers that's what we do. Honesty, that's a thing. You're pissed I married Elena. You're pissed I adopted Gabby. I get it. That does not mean you just cut me out of your life, does it?

Kris had not wanted to cut him out of his life. At first he was pissed, sure. It felt like his brother was replacing the parts of his family with new people. He wasn't just a brother, we was the closest thing to a real father that he had ever had. Now he had a real daughter, one he adopted. He didn't need Kris to be his best friend, because Elena was there for him. He had a whole group of stepchildren now. Where did a fuck up, addict brother fit into that picture? Plus, there was something else. Jason had messed up biggest by not mentioning it, even in the locker room.

Kristopher Halich: It is my choice who stays in my life, and who doesn't. You don't get to decide that shit for me. You can't just control everything about my life. I come into your company, and take your weekly drug tests to get you off my back. I let you live your life that you don't want me in. So get out of my face, and get out of my way.

Kris tried to step around him and pick up his bag, but got another shove instead. Jason had gritted his teeth and looked away at that point. It was then that Kris realized how much this was getting to him. He had seen that face every time he asked him to go to rehab. Each time Kris had given in, because it was always his fault for falling into drugs. That was not the case this time though. This was on Jason, but Kris held onto that because of the promise he made Amari.

Jason Halich: You're right. I can't force you to talk to me. What I can do, is be brutally honest with you. You're acting like a child. You don't want to talk. You want to kick and bitch like a kid until I break down and give into you. It isn't going to happen this time though. I am done chasing you. You're 25 years old and if you don't want to be around, then don't be around. Don't you dare put that on me though. That is your choice.

That small voice in his head that kept telling him not to say anything was gone at that point. Kris was unable to hold back any longer. He shoved his brother and forced his way past him. He picked up his bag on the way to the door, only turning once he got to it.

Kristopher Halich: I thought of you like a father. You were always there to protect me, from our parents and from all the messed I dug myself into. I would tell you that you that I hope you do a better job handling all your stepchildren, but they are all grown. So how about this...

He had hesitated. That small voice had whispered one last time not to drop that bomb, but he ignored it without thought.

Kristopher Halich: Make sure that kid you put in Elena doesn't turn out like me.

Jason's jaw had dropped. That hostility faded into legit regret from not telling him, but before he gathered his thoughts, Kris had slammed the door and started down the hallway.

===================================
===================================

3 April 2015
==============
Athens, Greece
==============
10pm ON-Camera

The scene had become stereotypical of Kris at this point. He was walking around the city, hood up. He had actually watched back his previous promos from SCW and had a laugh. He always ended up in these situations. The more he thought about it, the more he chalked it up to exploring all of the cities they toured. For the most part, he had never been to any of them. If was hard to take time out of the day to sit still to cut a promo. Why would he want to be trapped in a hotel to do it? Why would he head to the arena to do it from a ring? There was too much around for him to visit.

Kristopher Halich: So here is the thing about SCW, there has always been one thing that has caused me to stumble and fall, but that ended last week.

He laughed lightly and shook his head. As he passed buildings he turned from the camera and looked up, soaking in the environment.

Kristopher Halich: Roulette rules, and that damn Roulette Championship always derailed any success I had. It has killed my momentum in this company on more than one occasion. That was only true until two weeks ago though. I finally managed to go into a match with those insane rules and beat someone. Granted, it was a little weird having you people cheer for me when I did. I am not the kind of guy that gets cheered. I guess, at least lately, I seem to be the lesser of two evils when I have been in the ring. My guess is that trend is going to continue this week.

Again he laughs. This time it is a little more heavy than the first. He raises his hand to his stomach as he does. If anything, he was mocking the fans. I had a feeling it was going to go over their heads though.

Kristopher Halich: Mikey Impact, other than a stupid name, I don't know a thing about you. Normally, I would chalk that up to me not doing any scouting. That isn't the case this time. I actually tried to look into you. You know what I found? That you have trouble booking flights. You were supposed to be at the show two weeks ago. If you had been, you would have gotten a first hand look at what I am capable of. You weren't able to make it. Who knows if you even paid any attention to it. I strongly doubt you even looked into anything I said before the match either.

Kris stops his stroll down the side of the road and turns to the camera. His hands fall into the front pocket of his hoodie. The look on his face is of ambivalence.

Kristopher Halich: I told everyone before my last match that there is not a rule I won't bend or break in order to walk away a winner. However, that Roulette wheel spun around and put me in a match where there were no rules to break. If you know nothing about what happened that night, know this. I won. What does that tell you about me? I will go to any length to prevent a loss, because when I lose, my world spins out of control. It weighs on me until the next time I step in the ring. I know you are thinking, that happens to everyone. Losses have a way of clouding your mind. That is not what I am talking about. I am talking about not being able to function as a human being. I am talking about food being tasteless, art being meaningless, so much so that simply staring at a blank wall does not take away the sense of doubt and failure. I do not need to compete. I do not feel that pull to be inside a ring or traveling the world. However, failing at something is not something that I have ever been able to adapt to. I do not live and learn. I am incapable of accepting failure, and failing to win, hangs on me like a weight that is immeasurable. That is what you are going up against this week. You are fighting someone whose world shatters at the smallest sign of failure. I will do anything to avoid that feeling. That alone makes me a very difficult person to put down.

He shrugs his shoulders and steps up to the camera, his face still blank.

Kristopher Halich: Can you honestly say that you are as committed to winning as I am?

Like always, he raises his hand to cover the camera, giving it a push that causes the view to tilt upwards towards the sky as it cuts to black.

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