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Messages - Peter Vaughn

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Supercard Archives / A Family Foundation P3
« on: August 02, 2024, 06:41:36 PM »

~The picture comes up on a shot of the endless ocean. At least it seems that way, as the drone flies along, seeing no landmarks as it crosses over the water, zooming along with the birds in the sky. We finally see something in the distance, beginning to come into view. It’s a shot of a cruise ship, the Sun Princess, one of the finest ships to sail the seven seas, at least these days. The drone gets closer and closer to the ship, zipping along the side and showing us how majestic the ship truly is. We finally start to slow down, as the drone situates itself, beginning to slide sideways across the back half of the ship. On one such section, we see a man standing on his balcony, looking out over the water. The camera moves closer and closer… letting us know that it’s a pensive Peter Vaughn. As one of the SCW champions, he has one of the nicest cabins on the ship, a Sky Suite, perfect to share with his new wife, Sadie. Unfortunately, Vaughn hasn’t felt much joy in the accommodations. Behind him, we see Sadie walking into the cabin, taking off her sunglasses. She looks over at Vaughn and sighs.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: You know, Peter, these cruises don’t happen every day. You should probably get out and enjoy a few more of the events going on. There are a lot of excited wrestling fans out there who might even be happy to see you.

Peter Vaughn: I doubt it. They were already displeased with me even before all the stuff with HB. Now they’d love to toss me overboard.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I don’t think that’s true at all… for most of them… look, Peter, I know you’re going through a lot, what with your mom…

Peter Vaughn: We agreed not to talk about that.

~Sadie bites her lip, wanting to say more. Shortly before coming on the cruise, they learned that Vaughn’s estranged mother, Angela Hill, was dying. She wanted to talk to her son, to possibly mend some fences while talking about what really led to her leaving him and his father behind to start a new family. But Vaughn didn’t want to hear any of it. He left her behind, and no amount of coaxing from Sadie had changed his mind. Sadie walks to the side, getting a drink from their minibar. It's sparkling water, for those wondering about what the pregnant woman is drinking.  He then turns back to her husband.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: At the very least, you should come out and see my family. They’re really enjoying the cabin you got for them… although Charlotte’s still complaining about having to room with Mom & Dad…

Peter Vaughn: It was a packed cruise. They were lucky I was able to get them onboard.

Sadie A. Vaughn: True. Well, I’m meeting them for dinner tonight at Sabatini’s, if you want to join me…

~Suddenly, Vaughn turns, walking towards the main door of the suite. He is shaking his head as he goes.~

Peter Vaughn: I’ll think about it. For now, you’re right. I need to get out. I’ll see you later.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Okay, oh, and Peter…

~The door quickly slams shut, with Vaughn disappearing on the other side. Sadie sighs, lifting up her drink.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: … I love you…

~As Sadie indulges in her non-alcoholic drink, we cut to outside the Sanctuary Club, where Vaughn is currently walking. He stands out, still wearing his customary coveralls while almost everyone else appears to be more relaxed. More than a few fans look over his way, whispering to each other about seeing the SCW Internet Champion, but Vaughn’s in no mood to talk to them. He heads past the pool, seeking a more private area. Soon, Vaughn finds himself making his way to the Lotus Spa, complete with a sign on the wall proclaiming it the “Best Spa On A Cruise Ship”, surely a lofty award. Vaughn seems to consider it for a second, then shakes his head, knowing that he’s really not in the mood to relax. He starts to walk away, as the door swings open.~

Cameraman: Oh, really, I feel so much better! You wouldn’t believe the kinks I get carrying this camera around! Well, I guess you would, you just felt them, hah!

~Vaughn looks back, surprised, as our friendly neighborhood cameraman makes his way out. He looks extremely relaxed, dressed in very light clothes as he nods again to the masseuse. She is smiling at him, but also looks a little anxious, as if expecting something. The cameraman, not getting it, nods to her again.~

Cameraman: Really, it was fantastic. I may have to come back later this week, truly! But for now, I should really get to…

~The cameraman turns, finally noticing Vaughn standing there.~

Cameraman: … work.

~In spite of everything going on, Vaughn can’t help but get a small smile at the sight of the man, taking advantage of everything SCW has to offer on this cruise. He steps forward, patting the cameraman on the shoulder.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn!

Peter Vaughn: You know she’s wanting a tip, right? You’re supposed to tip afterwards…

~Vaughn says this quietly, but not TOO quietly, as the woman can be seen nodding. The cameraman looks back at her, and then leans towards Vaughn.~

Cameraman: I, ummm… I don’t have… well…

~Just the look of discomfort on the man’s face is worth it to Vaughn, who reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a hundred dollar bill. The woman’s face brightens as Vaughn steps over, handing it to her.~

Peter Vaughn: For your troubles.

Masseuse: Thank you, sir!

~The women disappears back inside, as the cameraman breathes a sigh of relief.~

Cameraman: Thanks, Mr. Vaughn. I really wasn’t sure what to do…

Peter Vaughn: You owe me $100. Plus interest.

~The cameraman goes a bit pale, trying to laugh as if it’s a joke. But Vaughn is already looking away, keeping his face hidden. It’s always hard to tell if he means what he’s saying… but you should never make assumptions when it comes to Vaughn. The cameraman swallows, then brings his camera up onto his shoulder.~

Cameraman: Since we’re here, want to do some shots for Summer XXXtreme? We might as well, right? Beautiful scenery and all…

~The cameraman’s shot drifts to the right, with Vaughn raising an eyebrow at him. When the footage cuts over to what the cameraman is filming, we see two bikini-wearing women walking away from him, with Vaughn reaching over to grab the camera, turning it to face him again.~

Peter Vaughn: Control yourself. Last thing I need is someone who does work for me getting himself arrested.

Cameraman: But… I wasn’t… yes, sir…

~Vaughn takes a moment, looking around.~

Peter Vaughn: Let’s head up top.

~Vaughn’s immediately walking towards the stairs to go upstairs, so the cameraman hurries to catch up. We do a quick cut, since transportation can be so boring, and find ourselves out on the landing, where Vaughn is looking over the edge at the ocean below. The cameraman moves to get a good shot from the side, as Vaughn turns to face him.~

Peter Vaughn: They say a cruise ship can be where all your dreams come true. You’re just supposed to “set course for adventure”. Well, I’m hoping it turns out I’m on the right course. First, I plan to eliminate HB Carter from my path, retaining my Internet Championship. After that, I will be making a little deposit from a certain golden briefcase, and everything will be going my way once and for all.

~Vaughn smirks to himself, finally looking like he’s starting to relax a little. He looks to a side, seeing a couple going by, holding hands. His smile fades slightly, but he points over at them anyway.~

Peter Vaughn: You see the happy couple? I assume that’s HB & Milo right now. Hey, you can’t blame them, fresh off of their own wedding. They’ve probably been celebrating this whole time, enjoying everything this cruise has to offer. And you know what that’s done to them? It’s exhausted them. It’s left them less sharp, less in the moment… while I’m still as focused as ever.

~The couple, glancing backwards, sees the look that Vaughn is giving them. They quickly hurry up, leaving the area, probably a wise decision. Vaughn turns back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: I hope HB’s been having a glorious time. I bet he’s loaded up on succulent shrimp and seafood, filling himself with every little food that’s available on this cruise. I bet he’s spent some time in that spa back there, alongside Milo, and he’s probably been going to the shows. I guess I can’t blame him. He doesn’t have steady funds like I do. I suppose you have to take advantage when you can. But it’s really going to be the man’s downfall.

~With that, Vaughn leans forward towards the edge of the cruise, wrapping both hands around the railing in front of him. He looks more intense now, thinking things through.~

Peter Vaughn: The problem is, as much as HB acts like he’s going to be taking this seriously… I don’t know how he could be. The man just got married and is basically on his honeymoon right now, with temptations everywhere. Has he been able to keep himself set, going to the gym every single day like I have? Has he been spending time in the evenings working on his plans, preparing for every eventuality like I have? No. Almost certainly not. I may have not been the best husband to Sadie on this trip, I have to admit that. But it’s all going to be worth it, because I’m locked in on everything I want to happen on this cruise. But HB… he’s going to learn very quickly what happens when you’re not 100% focused on the Mechanic like he should be.

~After a few more moments, Vaughn looks back at the camera, his eyes showing the electricity currently running through them at the thought of what’s to come on this cruise.~

Peter Vaughn: HB… I hope you’ve had a wonderful time on the Sun Princess, because it’s going to have to serve as your honeymoon destination. Because the next time you touch down on land… you’re not going to be able to touch anything. You’re going to be in traction, with Milo feeding you out of a straw for the next six weeks. That’s what someone who truly loves you will do, right? Luckily you found someone. Prepare to be Helluva Broken Carter for a while, boyo. The seas are going to get extremely rocky before you take the Plunge.

~Vaughn nods, then checks his watch. He then turns, starting to walk away. The cameraman, taken off-guard, starts to hurry after him.~

Cameraman: Hold on, Mr. Vaughn! Where are you headed next? Maybe I can keep filming you for some good crowd shots, what do you say?

Peter Vaughn: I don’t think so, man. I’m going to head over to the casino… and they tend to frown on cameras in there.

~The cameraman stops, realizing that Vaughn is right. He takes another step, then watches as Vaughn heads back into the stairwell, already making his way down. After a moment, the cameraman looks back the other way.~

Cameraman: To the bar it is, then!

~The cameraman heads off. We cut off from his feed, rejoining the ‘silent’ feed following Vaughn around as he reaches the eighth floor, the home of the Princess Casino. He gets out, looking around at everyone wasting their money on the various machines set up around there. He laughs at them, shaking his head, before moving towards the card tables further back. But he stops when he recognizes a loud voice to his right…~

Sal Anderson: C’mon now, Lady Luck! Daddy needs a new pair of boots!

~Vaughn turns, seeing his father-in-law Sal rolling some dice down the craps table. Everyone is watching as the dice hits the back wall… and lands with double sixes. The crowd groans as the man sweeps the dice away, along with Sal’s chips, with Sal shaking his head.~

Sal Anderson: Well, damnit. What a time to land craps!

~Vaughn starts to turn away, but Sal is already looking in his direction, tipping back his cowboy hat.~

Sal Anderson: Hey there, Pete! Just the man I was lookin’ for! C’mere son!

~Sal walks over, as Vaughn weakly turns towards him, slowly offering a handshake… only to get caught in a large bearhug from the cowboy, throwing him off-balance. Vaughn coughs, trying to catch his balance.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there… Mr. Anderson…

Sal Anderson: It’s Sal, boy! Sal!

~As the man continues the bearhug, Vaughn looks upwards towards the security cameras, as if asking for an intervention. But nothing is coming, so he just has to grin and ‘bear’ it. We cut away.~


Sometimes you just can’t avoid the inevitable.

Do you feel it coming, HB? That little pit of dread in the middle of your stomach, beginning to build in intensity? That’s the realization that you’re in for your worst experience ever on a cruise ship… and maybe anywhere. It depends on how far I end up going, doesn’t it? If you thought my painting your hair blue was extreme, boy, you’ve got a lot more coming your way, friend.

A hell of a lot more.

I’ve heard that you are planning to be more hands-on than your hubby ever was, being willing to do whatever it takes to win. You know, I really did push Milo on that, wanting him to take it to the line and cross it. It would have made my victory over him truly memorable. I’ll say that he came closer to the line than ever before in our last match, being willing to do a lot more than I thought he would. It still wasn’t enough. He wanted to stay ‘noble’, and it cost him. So if you’re willing to cross that line, HB, you’ll be one up on your boy in that regard.

The problem is that you’ll still be behind him in every single other measurement.

It’s a sad truth that I think you’ll have to agree with me on, Carter: Milo is the stronger wrestler of your pair. He wasn’t able to take me down. So really, your only HOPE is to try to use dirty tricks against me, and you know what? I can respect your willingness to consider those options, as I think it’s a worthy plan against me. The problem is, I’m already going to be utilizing them as well, and with the champion’s advantage on my side, I’m far more likely to be able to pull them off. Even if I don’t, what are they going to do, disqualify me? I’ll still leave with the Internet Title around my waist, if it came to that.

But I don’t think it will, Carter. I plan to break you down completely, and that means not even giving you the dignity of a DQ win.

I want you absolutely defeated… in every way, shape, and form.

I know you have your little excuses from each and every time we’ve fought. You blame a distraction in the ring, or a chloroform wrap, or a blast of The Entity’s mist. This time, I want there to be no excuses. I want everyone to take note and realize that I’m just that much better than you across the board. I want them to be pitying you for having to fight me, watching me wipe through you faster than Milo takes down a box of chocolate covered strawberries. I want to see tears spewing from Kasey’s face as he comes down the aisle, wondering if he’s truly seeing you inside the ring for the final time.

His tears will definitely fuel me for what will happen later in the night.

You went into the quotes of Malcolm X for me, a great man. I’ll answer you with a quote from The Art of War. “If you know the enemy, and you know yourself, you need not fear the result of 100 battles.” We’ve only faced four times, HB. But we’re not reaching triple digits. In this case, the fifth time is the charm.

The fifth and final time.

Because I’m sticking to my goal, Carter. I’m going to be ending you once and for all, right in front of all the Summer XXXtreme fans. Right in front of your family watching from home. Right in front of your potentially widowed husband.

This is the end, Carter. This is your final Plunge.


~With the bearhug finally released, Sal drags Vaughn over towards the craps table, with Vaughn not looking too interested in it.~

Sal Anderson: C’mon, kid, I could use some good luck! I’m already down 10 grand. But it’s time to change that roll, you feel me?

Peter Vaughn: Really, Mr. Ander… Sal… I’m more of a card player when it comes to casinos.

Sal Anderson: Oh, c’mon, son! It’s all about the skill of the dice!

~He and Vaughn head to the front of the table, watching as another person tries their luck… only to fail miserably, hitting snake eyes. She leaves, looking crushed, as Sal and Vaughn step up.~

Sal Anderson: Now the secret to this, son, is that you want to roll a seven right away. Got it?

Peter Vaughn: I know how to play craps, Sal. I’m just not a big fan of leaving so much to chance…

~Sal places another substantial pile of chips into play, then hands Vaughn the dice.~

Sal Anderson: C’mon, son! Are you a champion or not?

~Vaughn’s face flushes slightly, as he handles the dice, feeling both of them out. He studies them for a moment, then nods. He then places one die in each hand, keeping each clutched in each fist. The casino operator looks surprised.~

Casino Operator: Sir, you usually roll with both dice in one hand…

Peter Vaughn: Is there a rule against it?

Casino Operator: I… I don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone do it before…

Peter Vaughn: If you don’t know, then just watch, boyo.

~ For a few seconds, Vaughn seems to be preparing himself. He then lets the dice go from both hands at the same time, seemingly putting less emphasis on his left hand. That die bounces only a few times before landing on 1. The second die spins harder, eventually ending up on 6. The crowd looks stunned for a moment, before realizing what just happened.~

Casino Operator: Seven! Winner!

~The group around them cheer as the chips pile is quickly doubled. Sal, smiling widely, reaches for the pile, only to be stopped by Vaughn.~

Peter Vaughn: Let it ride.

Sal Anderson: But… but that just made a lot of my money back, son…

Peter Vaughn: And the next one will be a profit for us, won’t it?.

~Unsure, Sal decides to go along with it, stepping back as Vaughn again takes the two dice in each hand. He feels them out, then again does a different throw with each hand. This time the left die spins a little wildly, almost ending up on six, but flops over to the 1… as the second die lands on six again. It was a close one, but once again, the ‘dealer’ yells out.~

Casino Operator: Seven! Winner!

Sal Anderson: Woooohooo!! You are a lucky son of a gun! Glad to have you in the family, Pete!

~Vaughn reaches for the dice again, taking them into his hand. Sal suddenly looks concerned, wondering if Vaughn is going to press his luck. But this time Vaughn only shakes the dice for a few seconds before laying them down to the side.~

Peter Vaughn: I suppose that’s enough. I don’t want to be greedy.

~Smiling widely, Sal gathers up his chips, as the crowd gives an appreciative applause. They walk away, side by side, with Sal quickly counting up the chips.~

Sal Anderson: You are amazing, kid! How’d you know you’d pull that off?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, sometimes it’s just about knowing how the dice are going to fall, based on how they’re balanced.

Sal Anderson: Really? That’s impressive. You’ve got a lot of talent, Pete!

~Vaughn smiles at him, even as his hand quickly slips something back into one of his coverall pockets. It’s hard to tell exactly what it was, but knowing Vaughn, it wasn’t exactly legal. Then again, with no proof, who really knows what just happened? The two men go to cash in, with Sal putting all of his chips into the cruise ‘bank’, available for him the rest of the trip.~

Sal Anderson: How much of this you want, son?

Peter Vaughn: Don’t worry about it. I’ll go make my own winnings at the poker tables later. Maybe blackjack if I’m feeling adventurous.

Sal Anderson: I’d like to watch that. I bet it’ll be as crazy as a cat on a hot tin roof.

~The two men move closer to the door to the casino, with Vaughn again glancing back at the cards area. But he’s not going to go there with family around, too many eyes on him. Sal, meanwhile, pats him on the shoulder.~

Sal Anderson: By the way, I’m sorry to hear about your momma, son. Sadie told me what was going on.

~Vaughn tenses up, looking annoyed that his personal business is apparently out there. And yet Sal is ‘family’ now, so there’s not much Vaughn can do about it. Sal, not feeling the additional tension, keeps talking.~

Sal Anderson: You know, I cheated on my wife once.

~Vaughn stops in his tracks, truly surprised as he looks over at Sal.~

Peter Vaughn: … Really?

Sal Anderson: Oh, yeah. I was a hound dog in my youth, let me tell you what. I thought I could live that wild man’s life. And you know what? Looking back on it, I guess I wouldn’t change it.

Peter Vaughn: Seriously? You wouldn’t? But what about your family?

Sal Anderson: Oh, my wife was plenty pissed. She saw me as lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut. It pretty much ruined my marriage.

Peter Vaughn: … But you don’t regret it?

Sal Anderson: I regret it plenty. I let temptation get the best of me, and it destroyed something that I thought would be with me my whole life. But at the same time, if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have married the woman I cheated with… Sylvia. And so I wouldn’t have Charlotte and Sadie here, would I? Who knows where I’d be now…

~Vaughn rubs at the back of his head. He clearly wasn’t expecting things to go this direction.~

Peter Vaughn: So what are you saying? My father made the right choices in having affairs with my mother? Because I still don’t know if I even believe that…

Sal Anderson: Look, son, whatever your father did or didn’t do, all that really matters is that he loved you, right? He stayed with you. He kept up his side of the bargain, kept you fed with a roof over your head. Just remember that part of it, no matter what else you hear, okay?

Peter Vaughn: … I suppose so…

Sal Anderson: Now you go on and do whatever you’re wanting to do, son. For me… I’m going to go show Sylvia that I’m a winner, so she can feel better about me gambling later! Hah!

~Sal tips his hat, walking off, as Vaughn watches him go.~

Peter Vaughn: Y’know… maybe having a father-in-law won’t be that bad…

~Vaughn then turns and goes back into the casino, now free to do what he wants, as we cut away.~


You should never rely solely on luck, HB.

I mean, sure, by all means, take advantage of it when it comes your way. I certainly didn’t expect The Entity to mist you and not me, but I made the most of it, didn’t I? That could be considered ‘luck’... but at the same time, maybe it was more just my skill of knowing where everyone was and what could possibly be coming. I studied heavily for that match, making sure I knew everyone, even the least likely to win, like you, HB.

You have to know your opponents, after all, and I knew that red mist was a threat.

I know you’re still angry at me for shoving you off that ladder when you were blinded. I just still don’t understand that rage. The Entity put you in that position, not me. I just took advantage of it. Should I have carefully lowered you off the ladder, easing you down the rungs, until your feet touched the floor? Should I have tried to wipe your eyes clear, showing that I ‘care’? Would you have not immediately swung at me, taking advantage of that ‘kindness’? You know you would have.

You’ve already admitted to being that petty.

So in my view, I made the right decision by sending you flying, because you were in my way. Because of your fall, I won the Golden Briefcase, and you can bet I’m going to be making a big splash with it soon enough. It feels like it was destined to come into my arms, no matter what happened to everyone else. You were apparently destined to fall... hard. I feel not one bit of remorse for what happened to you. Not one.

And I won’t be feeling any on Sunday, either.

Simply put, Carter, you could say you HAVE been lucky against me. Sure, you’ve ended up unconscious, blinded, and nearly broken in half… but you’ve been able to come back and continue your career. You had no major injuries that put you on the shelf for 6 months to a year, did you? You’ve rolled the dice, and it hasn’t come up on snake eyes for you… yet. But you know the law of dice, don’t you?

The more times you roll, the closer you get to a fall.

It’s just statistics. If you keep challenging a dangerous predator like me, eventually your luck is going to run out, and you’re going to be torn limb from limb, seeing your career flash in front of your eyes as its time runs out. Of course, I won’t be counting on luck this time to make that happen. I’m perfectly content to lean on my skill at taking you apart piece by piece, bone by bone, until you find you can’t even stand in the ring.

I don’t need it to be hardcore rules. It’s just as easy to dislocate someone’s shoulders and knees with just your bare hands.

And when you’re laying there, looking up at the lights, unable to move, barely able to breathe, you’ll be saying to yourself… where did I get all this bad luck from? Why was I cursed to go through this?

And I’ll just say… you probably used every last bit of luck you had to land a man like Milo.

Your wedding just might lead to your funeral.

A pleasant thought, isn’t it, as we prepare for war?

I’ll see you out there, Carter. For the final time.

Revenged is sweet, sayeth the Mechanic.


~As we return to the cruise, we see Vaughn making his way out of the casino, looking noticeably happier. The security following him out don’t seem as pleased, as one directs him out of the door.~

Security: Just remember, we’ll be watching you.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, yeah. Just because I’m good at blackjack doesn’t always mean I’m counting cards, you know.

~The guard grumbles and turns away, as Vaughn, still smiling at his winnings, walks away. He takes the elevator and soon ends up back at the Sanctuary Club, walking in as he sees Sadie sitting near the pool. He walks over to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Peter? How are you feeling? You look… a little better.

Peter Vaughn: Maybe a little bit. I had a talk with your dad…

Sadie A. Vaughn: What?

Peter Vaughn: And he cleared some stuff up for me about what my pop may or may not have done. I’ll have to remember to call Angela when we get back.

Sadie A. Vaughn: That… sounds like a good idea, Peter. Thank you.

Peter Vaughn: Hey, what else have we got, other than family, right?

~Vaughn leans over, giving Sadie a quick kiss, before turning to walk away. However, Charlotte Anderson is coming right towards him, looking steamed.~

Charlotte Anderson: There you are! I don’t know where you’ve been hiding, but I’ve been waiting to tell you what I think about what you did to my Levi! It’s your fault he’s not even here to…

~Vaughn doesn’t stop moving forward, as if not seeing Charlotte. But his shoulder does bump heavily into her, sending her flailing backwards.~

Charlotte Anderson: Yeeeeiiiiaaaaaa!!!!

~Within seconds, Charlotte is in the pool, sputtering and trying to swim back to the edge, as she’s wearing the wrong clothes for the water. Vaughn looks over at her, then back at a groaning Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Baby steps…

~Vaughn then turns and walks away, even as Charlotte struggles to get out of the pool… then accidentally falls back in again, still screaming in fury. Sadie makes no move to help her sister, leaning back in her chair instead. We slowly fade out.~


2
Supercard Archives / A Family Foundation P2
« on: July 27, 2024, 11:35:23 PM »

Twenty-Five Years Ago

Darkness reigns.

It surrounds him, ready to envelop him in its inky blackness.

In other words, the power is out. Again.

~This doesn’t bother little Petey Vaughn, though. He’s used to power outages taking place in the abysmal apartment building where he and his family live. This is why the young kid has a small flashlight, glowing up into the air, and shining off the grimy ceiling above. He’s currently improvising a mighty battle, using a He-Man action figure with only one arm and a Magneto action figure with the helmet long since lost.~

Petey Vaughn: Your days of being a no good bad guy are over, Magneto! By the power of Greyskull!

~The He-Man figure ‘charges forward’, only for Vaughn to then cause a metal mug to slide in front of him. Clearly, Petey was gifted with a strong imagination, making use of these second-hand toys to find some joy in life. He makes the Magneto figure laugh.~

Petey Vaughn: Ha! I am Magneto! I beat the X-Men! You cannot fight me with one arm!

~Petey has He-Man pick the mug up and ‘toss’ it away.~

Petey Vaughn: One arm will not stop me, because I am He-Man! You will pay for what you have done!

~The He-Man figure does an ‘epic leap’ at Magneto, and the two ‘brawl’. In other words, Vaughn has them smacking away at each other. If there were some special effects and extra camera angles, it might be more impressive. Either way, Petey has He-Man knock Magneto down and stand over him.~

Petey Vaughn: Ha ha! I have the power!

~Just then, the lights in the apartment suddenly come on, as the power is restored. Petey looks around in astonishment before staring at He-Man with an awed expression.~

Petey Vaughn: Cool…

~Suddenly, we hear a loud banging noise, as a door slams nearby. Petey looks up, confused, as he hears pounding feet approaching. His bedroom door flings open, and his father stops in the doorway. He’s wearing his usual custodial coveralls, and appears extremely agitated. He’s also holding a crumpled letter in one hand.~

Petey Vaughn: Daddy?

~Mr. Vaughn stares at Petey for a few long seconds before diving forward, pulling him into a hug. Petey, very bewildered, returns the hug, still holding He-Man in one hand.~

Mr. Vaughn: Oh, thank God. Thank God you’re still here, Petey… thank God…

~He holds Petey close, not letting him go, as Petey looks towards the side, wide-eyed, with no idea what’s going on. He hears his father beginning to cry, something he never expected to hear.~

Petey Vaughn: D-daddy? Where’s… where’s Mommy? Daddy?

~Mr. Vaughn keeps tightly grasping his son, as Petey begins to tear up, just because of his inability to understand what’s happening. The crumpled letter floats to the floor, showing scrawled handwriting that can only be a Dear John letter. The father and son continue to stay together, gripping each other tightly, as the picture slowly fades out.~


Today

~As the shot comes back up, we see the sun rising up in the East. In front of us, we can see a grassy landscape, with fencing set up all around. The reason for that is soon evident, as a cow’s head slowly rises up into our view, giving a loud Mooo before she walks forward. The camera slowly turns, showing where the cow is going: an area nearby, where a sled has been brought out, covered in hay. Peter Vaughn steps around the side, wearing his work coveralls. He gets a large pitchfork, although it appears to have been modified, because as he puts it under a hay bale, a mechanical noise is heard, and the pitchfork shifts the hay upwards. Vaughn is able to easily toss the hay over into the feeding area, as the cows begin digging in. He raises up the pitchfork, a small smile crossing his face.~

Peter Vaughn: … I have the power…

~Shaking his head at his foolishness, Vaughn gets another scoop of hay to toss in, before he powers off his pitchfork and presses another button on his remote. The sled rolls away on its own, apparently powered, and heads back towards the storage shed nearby. Vaughn grins, pleased with how well it’s working… until he realizes it’s not going completely straight in.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh, damn, wait, WAIT…

~Vaughn tries to stop the sled with his remote, but it’s too late, as the sled crashes into the edge of the storage shed, cracking it. The sled backs up, finally acknowledging the order to stop, as Vaughn hurries over to survey the damage. He leans over, beginning to tinker on the side of the automated sled, as we see a figure approaching from the side. It’s our friendly cameraman, who gives a long yawn before seeing Vaughn. He lifts the camera up onto his shoulder, and our view immediately shifts to his perspective… which sadly shows Vaughn working from behind.~

Cameraman: Hello, Mr. Vaughn. Hard at work? Or hardly working? He he…

~Vaughn straightens up, looking back at the cameraman with a raised eyebrow.~

Peter Vaughn: Working hard as always, boyo. It’s the only way a ranch keeps running. Although if I can tweak a few more systems, we’ll have the majority of this place automated…

Cameraman: Well, you’re definitely persistent. So why did you want me to come out this early? We already taped your comments about HB Carter, didn’t we?

Peter Vaughn: We did… but now I want to talk about something else. I want to talk about Sean Parker… and I want to talk about Finn Whelan.

~The camera suddenly shakes for a second before stabilizing.~

Cameraman: Wait… are you… are you cashing in??

Peter Vaughn: Not so loud!

~The cameraman quiets down and looks around, but there’s nobody but livestock anywhere nearby. He nods.~

Cameraman: That’s why you wanted to meet so early, so no one else would be around…

Peter Vaughn: And because you wouldn’t be able to help yourself in shouting it out. Seriously, dude…

Cameraman: I’m sorry! But it’s big news if you are… doing what you’re thinking about doing…

~Vaughn nods to himself, crossing his arms as he thinks about what potentially is to come.~

Peter Vaughn: Honestly, if Sean and Finn don’t see this coming, they’ve been actively ignoring all of the signs. I’ve told both of them multiple times now that they need to be ready for me. So if they’re unprepared, well, that’s their problem, not mine. I’m not going to be hanging onto a golden ticket again without using it. I’m not going to wait.

Cameraman: But… at the cruise? With you already fighting in another match earlier in the night? Some would say you’re throwing your advantage away.

Peter Vaughn: Maybe so. Maybe it’d be more fitting for me to rush out on a Climax Control, hit Finn in the back of the head with a sledgehammer, and THEN cash in. But you know, I’ve been in that position before. I beat a guy who wasn’t near 100 percent, won the biggest title in the fed… and not one person respected me for it. So at the very least, I’m giving these guys a shot. But I still plan on being victorious and hoisting up two championships at the end of the night.

Cameraman: Wow…

Peter Vaughn: Here’s the thing. Sean Parker has done some good things in Sin City. I won’t take that away from him. He won the Blast From The Past Tournament, albeit not on his own, and he got this title shot. But he’s a man on the edge right now, and one good push will send him toppling over. Meanwhile, Finn’s been a man without a true opponent for months now. He’s been more focused on the tag-team ranks, where he only has to do half the work, and he’s been ignoring the World Title. That needs to stop, and I’m the man to stop it.

~Vaughn steps over the sled, looking out over the horizon. He smiles to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: I have won a dozen World Championships all over the world. At one point, I was the most dangerous wrestler on the planet, fighting anyone, anywhere. I dominated like few have done before. And I’m ready to get back to the top. I’m ready to crush the competition and add lucky #13 to my resume. It’s time for me to ascend to the top of Sin City. And I’m going to make sure no one can deny me my success, when I’ve defended my Internet Championship and won the SCW World Heavyweight Title. It will be a night that Sin City fans never forget.

~With that, Vaughn grins, turning back to the cameraman. At that moment, a blast of sparks comes out from the side of the sled. Some hay begins to burn. Vaughn immediately rushes forward, stomping on the hay, putting it out, as the cameraman watches. Vaughn shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I’m going to get this right…

~Vaughn turns back to the cameraman once more.~

Peter Vaughn: In any case, I wanted to let you know what’s going on. But keep it under your hat, okay?

Cameraman: They won’t hear about it from me.

Peter Vaughn: Good. Now I’ve got some work to do. Nice seeing you again, friend.

~Vaughn leans over the sled again, tinkering where the sparks came from. The cameraman shrugs and stops recording, with our shot once again jumping to an “off-camera” look. He turns to walk away, passing by a ranch hand who is jogging up. He surveys the damage to the sled and to the storage shed, smirking before commenting.~

Mason Hendrix: Hey, boss. Another problem with the sled, huh?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I think something blocked the sensor and overheated the circuitry. It should have been more accurate. Eh, I’ll work on it, we’ll get it operating like it should be.

Mason Hendrix: Well, right now, boss, you’ve got visitors at the house. I thought you’d want to know.

Peter Vaughn: Visitors? This early? … They didn’t look like tax collectors, did they?

Mason Hendrix: Nope. Although I could see your brother passing as one if he wanted to.

Peter Vaughn: Brother? Wait, Thomas is here? Huh. I wonder why he didn’t call. Okay, I’ll go see what he wants. Would you clean up this mess? I’d appreciate it.

~Vaughn turns and quickly begins walking away, as Mason looks around at the mess of hay laying around. He shakes his head, then turns towards Vaughn.~

Mason Hendrix: Hey, uh, it’s not just your… brother…

~But Vaughn has already moved out of earshot, as he keeps moving away. Mason sighs and goes to get himself a shovel to start cleaning up the hay. Nearby, at the fence, a cow looks over at him and gives another long Mooo. Mason glances at her.~

Mason Hendrix: Shut up…

~As Mason goes to work, we instead follow Vaughn. After all, he IS the main protagonist of our story. He makes his way to the main homestead, cleaning his hands along the way. He then dries them on his coveralls as he goes to the porch. There, he sees his half-brother, Thomas Hill, sitting in his wheelchair, talking with someone. He also sees the cameraman’s car driving away, as the man gives a quick honk towards Vaughn. He waves back, just out of reflex, before walking over to take the ramp up onto the porch.~

Peter Vaughn: Thomas! Good to see you, brother…

Thomas Hill: Hi, Peter.

~They shake hands, with neither of them really being the hugging type.~

Peter Vaughn: What brings you out here? Something to do with the financials? If you’re here about that backhoe someone, uh, ordered, we are going to return it after we use it a few times, so…

Thomas Hill: No, Peter, it’s not about… wait, backhoe? *ahem* I mean, I’m not here in that sort of capacity. I’m here for… her…

~Surprised, Vaughn looks off to the side, finally noticing the woman there. She steps forward, her older features still showing some resemblance to Vaughn, although he still resembles his father more. She tries a weak smile.~

Angela Hill: Hello, Peter. It’s… it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

~As Vaughn’s expression melts away, we can see the flashes behind his eyes. His vision shifts slightly…~


~We see the younger version of Petey Vaughn, crying himself to sleep at night, wondering what he ever did to make his mother hate him…~


~Vaughn shakes it off, removing the memory. He covers up his reaction as best as he can, though, before finally focusing again on Angela.~

Peter Vaughn: Hi… Mom…

~As Vaughn and Angela stare at each other, with Thomas uncomfortably sitting between them, we end up cutting away.~


Surprises. Rarely do they turn out to be a good thing, do they?

Something tells me that neither Finn nor Sean are going to take too kindly to me sticking my nose into their business. They’re not going to appreciate the surprise of the golden briefcase interfering with their classic one-on-one contest, one that’s been talked about as such a major event.

Except it… really hasn’t been. It’s not even the main event of the show.

I’m not sure why. I mean, you have Sean Parker, the outsider, the XWF Anarchy champion, coming in and winning Blast From The Past to earn this title shot. You have Finn Whelan, the winner of the prestigious tournament back in February to become the new SCW World Heavyweight Champion, and also the co-holder of the SCW World Tag-Team Titles. This should be one of the most talked-about matches in SCW history, with people wondering if a non-signed wrestler might become the World Champion! They should be fighting over whether Finn is set to become one of the greatest champions of all time!

But lately… they haven’t been. Because Sean hasn’t wrestled a match for SCW since Luna Pasilno carried him to the tournament victory. Because Finn hasn’t talked once on Climax Control about facing Sean. Not once. Because Finn has cared more about the tag-team titles than that singles championship he carries around.

It’s really disturbing, when you think about it.

I have worked my ass off the last month since falling in the tournament. I had my war with Miles Kasey, successfully retaining my Internet Championship. I fought like hell to win the Golden Briefcase, surviving a six-man gauntlet for the honor of holding it. I took down Rodrigo Afonso. Okay, that last one isn't as impressive, but still, I did it. I showed up, I fought, and I won.

I’ve represented Sin City with the best competition I can give it.

Now, let’s face facts, Sean. You aren’t a long-term competitor here in SCW. You never intended to be. While you DID show some skill in the Blast From The Past, you know in your heart that it was because of Luna that you got this title opportunity. That being said, I’ve seen you elsewhere, Sean, and you HAVE been impressive. But the pressure of being on top in some many places can be very daunting to deal with. It can begin to crush you if you don’t watch out for yourself.

I know. I’ve been there.

I once held three World Titles at the same time. I was the XWF Universal Champion, the PW Valor Heavyweight Champion, and the TPW International Champion. It was a heavy responsibility, trying to stay at the top of all of them at the same time, and quite frankly, I wasn’t ready for it. I ended up losing two of the belts and barely hung onto the third, because it was intense. So I feel for you, Sean. I’ve found myself in that position, trying to compete everywhere and being incredibly stressed out. It was a new feeling, one I wasn’t ready for.

Nowadays? I’d probably enjoy it more.

Sadly, Sean, you seem to be on the downslope of your rollercoaster. I’m afraid I’m going to have to help with that slide, because there’s no way in hell you’re winning the SCW World Heavyweight Title, a belt that’s already been tarnished enough in the past year. I want someone there who’s going to show up every day, someone who’s going to show the Sin City audience how intense things can really be when their World Champion is on fire.

I want the crowd to lose their minds each and every time the World Champion comes out to the ring.

I’m the one who can do that. They’ll be booing, of course, but it’ll still be loud as hell.

Now, we’ve fought before, Sean. We faced off in the Denzel Porter Games, and you were 110%. You were able to take me down. But don’t lie to yourself, Sean. You aren’t near that range anymore. You’re desperately trying to hang on, but your grip is beginning to weaken. This is my time, Sean. This is my chance to get my revenge and kick you free, sending you plummeting out of Sin City. You can bet that I’m not going to let this chance slide.

It’s time to show you what a motivated Mechanic can do, when facing a struggling Sky Assassin.

I’ll be the one airborne. You’ll be the one taking the Plunge.


~An uncomfortable silence has settled onto the homestead porch, with Angela feeling obligated to try and fill it.~

Angela Hill: It’s… good to see you again, Peter. You look like you’re keeping yourself in shape.

Peter Vaughn: Well… it’s kind fo my job, so…

~Vaughn shrugs, still stone-faced. He and his mother have come to a mutual understanding of their past, but Vaughn still doesn’t react well when she’s around. He’s been able to put the past behind him… but he’s never really forgiven her for what she did, all those years ago.~

Thomas Hill: So, uh, Pete, you’ve been working? I see hay on your shoulder…

~Vaughn reaches up without a word, brushing his shoulder off, as Thomas clears his throat again. Thankfully, at the moment, the door opens, and Sadie Anderson Vaughn steps out, with a tray full of iced tea.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Here we go! It’s never too early for iced tea! Oh, hi, Peter. The cows get fed alright?

Peter Vaughn: They’re good.

~Sadie sets down the tray, clearly recognizing the tension in the air. She turns towards Angela, putting on her best smile.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: So how was the trip down?

Angela Hill: It wasn’t too bad. We had to travel in a cab part of the way, but it all worked out.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I’m glad you guys made it! Peter, could you help me with the food tray I just put together?

~Thrown off, Vaughn nods, and the two of them head inside to the kitchen. Vaughn looks around, noting how pristine everything is. Sadie has a vegetable tray already put together, raising Vaughn's suspicions.~

Peter Vaughn: … Did you… know she was coming, Sadie?

Sadie A. Vaughn: I received a call from Thomas late last night. You were already asleep.

Peter Vaughn: And you didn’t think to warn me?

Sadie A. Vaughn: Look, Peter… we already met with my parents, and I know that didn’t go that well… but I still want to spend time with your family as well, so I was happy to hear they were coming.

Peter Vaughn: You remember that she abandoned us, right? My father and I? She went and raised another family, bringing up Thomas…

Sadie A. Vaughn: I remember all of that, Peter. But she’s still family. You’ve come to accept Thomas. Now you need to talk to her. For me. Okay?

~Vaughn grumbles for a moment before picking up the vegetable tray. He looks it over.~

Peter Vaughn: Olives? Really? They’re awful…

Sadie A. Vaughn: Oh, just take the tray out, picky…

~Vaughn walks away, heading back outside and putting the tray down. Thomas looks it over, smiling, and then grabs a few olives. Vaughn shakes his head, even as he sees Angela doing the same thing.~

Thomas Hill: What? They’re delicious!

Angela Hill: I don’t know where you got that from. It surely wasn’t from me.

~This gets a small chuckle from Vaughn, as he finally pulls up one of the patio chairs to take a seat.~

Peter Vaughn: So… what brings you guys here so early? I assume it had to be something important…

~Thomas coughs, choking slightly on an olive, but he manages to get it down. Sadie, meanwhile, has come back out, silently getting a glass of iced tea. Angela looks down, composing herself. Vaughn, popping a carrot into his mouth, glances around the porch.~

Peter Vaughn: Look, if this is about the wedding… I get it. We had it without you, Mom. But it wasn’t by choice. Well, I mean, it WAS, but it was kind of… a spontaneous decision, you know? We’re still going to have a full wedding, believe me, I know Sadie’s family wants that…

~Angela reaches out, waving her hand.~

Angela Hill: It’s not that, Peter. I’m extremely happy that you and Sadie have found each other. I’m excited that there’s going to be a new generation running around this ranch soon enough. I just wish…

~Angela comes to a stop, her voice cracking slightly. Even Vaughn, who normally can’t notice emotional shifts, catches this one.~

Peter Vaughn: Angela… mother… what is it?

~After a moment, Angela looks up at him, tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.~

Angela Hill: I… I’m dying, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: … What?

~After a few moments, Angela hands over a folder to Vaughn, who opens it up… to see the medical documents inside. As he looks over them, we cut away again.~


So let’s talk about Finney for a second.

When I lost to you in the World Title Tournament, Finn, I gotta admit, it put me at one of my lowest points in my time here in Sin City. I basically started to doubt myself. I began to wonder, could I still take over the company like I have so many times in the past few years? But then, after this recent run with the Internet Title, I’ve gotten my confidence back. I’ve gotten my power back. I’m feeling like I’m reaching the pinnacle once again.

I have to say, looking at you has helped as well.

I mean, you took me down, you took Goth down, and I thought well, this guy is actually a powerhouse. I can respect that. He’s going to rebuild the championship back to its former glory. And well.. I’ve waited for that ever since. I mean, I did watch you beat Goth again, when he was nearing retirement, making the match at least a bit special. I waited for you to call out to the top male wrestlers, challenging them to come take your championship. I waited… and watched as you just set up a non-title match with Rodrigo Afonso. You basically forced Christian Underwood to step out there and set up that Gold Rush Battle Royal just to get you an opponent, because you hadn’t challenged anyone.

And that’s how you end up with Jamie Dean as the #1 contender.

C’mon, Finn. Nobody took that match seriously. Nobody thought that you would have trouble with a former tag champ who got lucky during a battle royal. Seriously, Dean’s not even on the Summer XXXtreme card!! How bad is it to go from #1 contender to sayonara?

But hey, Finn, you had a built-in challenger the next time, good ol’ Sean Parker. Have you talked about destroying Sean and making him wish he’d never come to SCW? Have you bragged about your amazing title run, talking about it going on as long as you want it to? Have you spoken about making Sean a Blast From The Past himself?

No. At least, not that I’ve seen. You’ve just been hanging back, getting in some tag-team title defenses. Which, okay, I get it, you’ve got to defend both… eventually. But c’mon, man! I want some trash talking going on between you and Sean! I wanted to see you two coming nose-to-nose, face-to-face, cursing each other out as you spit in each other’s faces! I mean, hell, how can I get excited about a match where you guys haven’t even thrown a punch at the other?

If I’m honest, Finn, THAT’S why I’m really cashing in. I can’t stand the thought of this continuing anymore. I want the fans talking about the World Heavyweight Title. It’s time for that belt to main event a show again. And if I win that gold from you, Finn, I guarantee I’m going to make everyone stand up and respect that championship once more. It’ll be the most talked about title in Sin City.

Especially after I take it from you.

Whether I pin you, Finn, or I pin Sean, it’s all the same to me. Sure, by pinning you I’d avoid the cries of “I didn’t actually lose the belt, waaahhh!”, but I’ll accept victory in any fashion. If I run down to the ring, cash in, and immediately school boy Sean into oblivion, I’ll still be damn proud of the fact that I’m a World Champion once again. Either way, you’re going to have to deal with the fact, Finn, that we’ll now be 1-1 against each other. I suppose that would mean the rubber match at the next show, and damn, Finn, maybe we’ll see you fired up and energized. Maybe we’ll get the fans talking about our incredible war, as we battle at the top of Sin City, leaving destruction everywhere we go.

Maybe it’ll end up that way, Finn. Or maybe I break you so badly that I have to find my own #1 contender. But if that happens… there will be no Gold Rush Battle Royal. I will choose the most worthy, and they will get me that main event.

But I want to respect you, Finn. I want to find that warrior inside that will fight to the end, no matter what. I mean, those are the ones that are the most fun to defeat. So I know you’re going to be surprised when I show up. I know you’re going to have to change up your gameplan and be scrambling for a clue. But give it your all, Finn… so that when I defeat you and Sean, it’s damn worth it to me, as well as the fans.

Make the Plunge memorable, Finn. I’ll see you kiddos soon.


~All is quiet on the porch, after Angela’s news. Vaughn takes a moment to look at the folder information in front of him, noting the diagnosis.~

Peter Vaughn: So it’s stage 4? Incurable?

Angela Hill: That’s what they’ve told me.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Oh, Angela, I’m so sorry…

Angela Hill: That’s life. You never know what to expect.

~Vaughn shakes a bit from that comment, then shuts the folder again, handing it back over.~

Peter Vaughn: Well. I’m sorry to hear this, Angela. But thank you for coming and telling us, so that we know what might be in my future. A melanoma. Wonderful. I guess I should be glad it’s not Huntington’s.

Thomas Hill: Hold on, Peter, it’s not just about telling you…

Peter Vaughn: But you have, and I appreciate it. But I don’t think there’s much I can do, considering what your doctors have already told you.

Angela Hill: Maybe not medically, Peter, but… I have some unresolved business that I would like to take care of, and one of those is… trying to make things right with you.

Peter Vaughn: Ha. Ha, ha. You lost that chance when you went out the door, leaving your notes to us behind.

Angela Hill: So… you did get my note then? I thought maybe John had kept it.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I got it… I just never read it.


~We cut quickly to a shot of Petey Vaughn, angrily ripping up a letter to shreds and letting them float away in the wind, refusing to read any of it…~


~And then we’re back, as Angela reaches out to her son.~

Angela Hill: I always wondered if you did that. But Peter, there are things you need to know… things about your father…

Peter Vaughn: My father was a saint. He worked desperately for years after you left, keeping a roof over my head and food in my stomach. He died young because of all that work… because you left us.

Angela Hill: But your father… he… he tried to be a good man. But he… had needs… and when I caught him that third time with the woman from 10B… I couldn’t take it anymore…

~Vaughn gets to his feet, staring down at Angela, whose hand is shaking now.~

Peter Vaughn: You’re saying my dad slept around?

Angela Hill: … I know it’s a lot to take, but I thought you needed to know…

~Calmly, Vaughn reaches to the side, getting the pitcher of iced tea and pouring himself a drink. One second later, he launches the pitcher into the side of the house, shattering it and sending pieces everywhere. Vaughn then leans down, right into Angela’s face.~

Peter Vaughn: LIAR.

~Vaughn then turns and starts walking away at a fast pace, as Sadie gets up to try and grab him, only missing by a few inches.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Peter!

~But Vaughn doesn’t turn around. He keeps walking, heading back onto the ranch. In Angela’s eyes, she can’t help but see Petey Vaughn departing, glancing back at her with hurt in his eyes. But there’s nothing she can say, as Vaughn doesn’t stop. We fade out.~


3
Supercard Archives / A Family Foundation P1
« on: July 27, 2024, 11:27:26 AM »

~The picture slowly comes up on… well, a picture. It is an image of Peter Vaughn and Sadie Anderson standing on the edge of a volcano, taking their vows to become husband and wife. The shot slowly zooms backwards, showing that the picture is currently showing on the screen of an iPhone. Holding the phone, we can see Vaughn himself, with a slight smile as he looks down on the shot. The smile fades, though, as he clicks to the next picture. This one shows a sonogram, a very early view of the child that Sadie is currently carrying. Vaughn stares at this shot for a few more seconds, his expression unreadable, as the image suddenly shifts to a less stable version. We now are approaching Vaughn, moving past several sets of pews, as we’re in the view of everyone’s favorite cameraman. Vaughn looks up, seeing the cameraman approach, and immediately reacts.~

Peter Vaughn: Get down!

~This whispered-but-forceful command works, as the cameraman immediately ducks down. He gets closer to Vaughn, struggling to basically duck-walk over to him with the camera in his arms.~

Cameraman: What’s wrong? You told me to meet you here…

Peter Vaughn: Keep your voice down. We don’t want to… interrupt.

~Confused, the cameraman maneuvers past Vaughn, focusing off the edge of the balcony they’re currently situated on. Below, we can see a decent-sized crowd sitting in the church sanctuary, as a couple stands at the front, along with a preacher. It doesn’t take the cameraman long to realize what’s happening.~

Cameraman: A wedding? We’re at someone’s wedding? Why?

Peter Vaughn: Why not? It seemed as good a place to be as any. My wife is wanting one of these grand affairs, after our smaller ceremony. I thought I’d check one out. I could always use some pointers.

Cameraman: Okay, but there were SURELY some videos online you could have watched…

Peter Vaughn: Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it wouldn’t be THIS wedding.

~The cameraman is silent for a moment, before quickly turning to look over the balcony edge once again.~

Cameraman: Wait, hold on, this isn’t THEIR wedding, is it??

~The cameraman tries, but he can’t get a good shot of the two individuals getting married from here. He turns back to Vaughn, who raises an eyebrow before figuring out what the man means. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Milo’s and HB’s? No. I may be a bit of a jerk at times, but even I’m not going to stoop that far. They can have their fun unimpeded. Well, other than Carter’s new hairstyle. But I’m sure they were able to get the paint out.

Cameraman: So whose wedding is it?

~Vaughn opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking to the side.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn. I just had it. It’s Trisha and somebody… maybe Christian? I don’t know, something like that…

Cameraman: Wait, you don’t know them?

Peter Vaughn: Why would I know them?

Cameraman: Because… you’re crashing their wedding?

Peter Vaughn: No, I’m not. We wouldn’t be hiding up here if that were the case.

Cameraman: Then… why…

Peter Vaughn: Let’s just say I saw their wedding announcement online, and, well, I was… intrigued.

~The cameraman doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, as Vaughn looks out, seeing them go through some of the motions, like getting their hands wrapped together to show unity. He sighs.~

Peter Vaughn: They do look happy, don’t they?

Cameraman: I suppose so.

Peter Vaughn: You know, the funny thing is, I was more than willing to let Milo and HB live happily ever after. Just like them.

~Vaughn glances back at the camera, staring towards it.~

Peter Vaughn: Milo had given me his all, putting up a very worthy fight. True, I came out victorious once again, but I had decided to give him his due after that and move on. I was interested in just moving up to the next level and going for the World Heavyweight Title, leaving them to their happy nuptials and honeymoon. Then came the Golden Briefcase.

~Vaughn looks to his side, where we can see the Internet Championship sitting beside the Golden Briefcase, shining in the church light. Vaughn shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: When I got placed into that match, I knew it was a handy tool to have, so I was prepared to do everything I could to win the contest. The thing is, I didn’t have to do everything at the end, thanks to The Entity blinding HB. It meant that I could knock HB aside and claim the briefcase, securing it for my own release. I figured that HB would be angry at The Entity’s attack, since all I did was what was necessary to become “Golden”. I suppose I underestimated HB’s intelligence at that point.

~Vaughn sighs again, looking back at the couple below. The preacher is having them speak their final vows to each other, although we couldn’t possibly make out what they’re saying from here.~

Peter Vaughn: No, HB decided to personally attack me after a match, ambushing me. Now, believe me, I’m not going to be a hypocrite and say that it was ‘unfair’, because it’s all about getting the upper hand. But in this case, it was a mistake. HB could have challenged me straight out, I would have accepted, and we would have avoided all the ‘unpleasantness’. But HB couldn’t help himself. And neither could I.

~Seeing the preacher tell the couple to come together and kiss, signifying their union, Vaughn gets to his feet, no longer concerned about concealment as the clapping and cheers begin below.~

Peter Vaughn: The sad thing is? HB brought all of this on himself, and now his husband is going to have to watch as I send their marriage through its first tailspin. We’ll soon find out if Milo will stick by Carter, once he’s spent some time in the hospital after our match. Because HB’s going to be a message… one that the rest of Sin City will need to read loud and clear.

~As the wedding party starts shaking hands and exchanging hugs, Vaughn directs the cameraman towards the door. They head to the stairway, where Vaughn reaches to his side, almost randomly, and grabs hold of the fire alarm switch there.~

Cameraman: Whoa, hold on, Mr. Vaughn!

Peter Vaughn: Why? Their wedding’s already complete… and this will give them something to tell their grandkids. You’ve got to have stories, boyo, otherwise, what’s the point?

~With that, Vaughn pulls down on the switch, beginning the alarm. The sprinklers go off all around the sanctuary, with the cheers of joy becoming screams of surprise and anxiety. Vaughn then turns and starts down the stairs, with the cameraman hurriedly following behind him, the feed cutting away.~


~As we come back into view, we now see Peter Vaughn standing in front of a mirror, fiddling with what appears to be a bolo tie. He’s wearing a dark-blue long-sleeve designer shirt. His hair also appears to have been slicked back, well, as much as it possibly could, at any rate. It’s a very different look for Vaughn, and he doesn’t look pleased with the dress code, as he messes some more with the metal clasp, trying to get it centered.~

Peter Vaughn: This is going to be a long night.

~Behind him, his newly-married wife, Sadie Anderson Vaughn, steps out wearing a spectacular gown. This goes against her usual wardrobe tastes as well, as she’s far more likely to be seen wearing Wranglers and cowboy boots. But she, at least, looks comfortable in the fancy clothes, as she puts an arm around Vaughn’s shoulders.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I know you hate stuff like this, Peter. But we have to go through with this.

Peter Vaughn: Why? We could just head back to Hawaii. There are a few islands we didn’t visit…

~Sadie gives Vaughn a squeeze, before shaking her head. She reaches over, adjusting his bolo tie so that it looks just right.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: There’s no running away from what we’ve done, Peter. We have to face the consequences of our actions.

Peter Vaughn: I suppose you’re right. Although running still sounds more enjoyable…

Sadie A. Vaughn: No, Peter. It’s inevitable, and it’ll just get worse if we wait longer.

Peter Vaughn: *Sigh* Okay, Sadie. If you say so. So when’s the dinner again?

Sadie A. Vaughn: We’re supposed to be there in about an hour, but with traffic being a mess, we probably should get going now.

~Vaughn looks at himself in the mirror once more, looking unhappy with the sight that lies before him… a well-dressed man.~

Peter Vaughn: I still can’t believe I’m doing this.

Sadie A. Vaughn: As I said, Peter, we have to face up to what we’ve done. And you made the choice to marry me spontaneously… so now we have to meet up with my family and deal with the consequences.

Peter Vaughn: Sometimes wrestling is so much simpler…

~Vaughn shakes his head again, before turning and making sure to grab his wallet and keys. The two head for the hotel room door, ready for an interesting night. We fade from the shot…~


Ahh, the in-laws. A problem we both now share, I suppose, huh, HB?

Actually, I don’t have a clue if Milo’s parents are still alive or not. I think his mom is? And his twin sister, Brianna, right? Hell, I don’t know, I never cared to know. But if they are, then good luck to you, HB. It’s never easy dealing with the other side of the family.

I wonder how they feel about you stealing away ol’ Milo’s heart. Maybe they’re glad someone was willing to be with him. Who knows. I guess you can find out if they’re telling you to run for the hills instead of facing me when I’m feeling the way I am. That’d be the smart decision. But if you were as smart as you try to make yourself appear, HB, you wouldn’t have attacked me in the first place.

It’s a mistake you keep making for some reason, over and over again.

Have you forgotten when we fought back in May 2023? It was your big return match, wasn’t it? And you decided that you wanted to face me, in order to force yourself into the Ultimate X match at Summer Xxxtreme XI for my Roulette Championship. You chose to take me on… and it backfired horribly, didn’t it? Because I hit you with some of my best moves, and then I made you take the Plunge. You had to deal with the 1-2-3 of shame and loss, right in front of your father.

But what about a few weeks later? You decided to try for a different angle, wanting to go for the SCW Mixed Tag-Team Titles with Ariana Angelos. Once again, you decided to challenge me, this time along with my partner, Kimberly Page. And how did that end again, HB? Oh, that’s right, I nailed you with the Keyholder and then held you down for the pin. You took the loss for your team, and I once again was victorious over you.

I thought maybe you had learned your lesson after that, as you stayed away from me and let Milo confront me instead. But you once again got involved when Milo needed a tag-team partner, joining up with him against Goth and I, a super tag-team. It isn’t any wonder that you went down once more, although I will admit, the chloroform was a unique way for the match to go. I think that showed mercy on my part, really, but I’m pretty sure neither you nor Milo agreed.

And then, finally, we have the Golden Briefcase match. Now this one, I can’t really claim a full victory over you, I have to admit. It was touch and go at the top until The Entity got involved with that Red Mist of his. But anything goes in a contest like that, and so I had no problems smacking you off the top of the ladder so that I could get the victory. It’s the way of the world, you take advantage of whatever happens to come your way, be it a dollar on the ground or a bloody mist in your face.

But that’s really the most notable thing from all of these examples, HB. You see, I was simply wrestling the matches. It wasn’t anything personal from me. Even against Milo, I still just saw him as a competitor to take down, someone who might be able to better themselves in the future by fighting me. I never took it to the next level in any of our contests.

But now… you’ve done that. You’ve made it personal by ambushing me after a match, when I wasn’t at full power, just to make a point. It showed more guts than your partner, I’ll grant you that. But it also showed a distinct lack of brain cells up there, because you’re just going to make it that much worse on yourself, because now I’ve got a new reason to compete: to make you suffer for the insult you brought upon me by ambushing me like a common mid-carder.

You refused to show me the respect that I gave your Milo. And now I’m going to show you what it’s like to fight the Mechanic when he doesn’t give a damn about his opponent’s future.

I’m going to end your career, Carter.

And the last time you’ll see is your Milo crying over you, while your in-laws feign sorrow behind him.


~We see Peter and Sadie Vaughn now, making their way into the fancy dining establishment. They go up to the front waiting area, but the man behind the podium immediately waves to them.~

Attendant: Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn? You are expected. This way, please.

~The man moves in front of them, giving a small bow before heading inside. The two look at each other, with Vaughn raising an eyebrow while Sadie just rubs at her head. They then head after the attendant, who takes them to the only table in the room with people at it. The foursome there stands as the Vaughns walk up, with Sadie moving ahead to embrace the older woman to the right.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Hello, Mother. You’re looking good.

Sylvia Anderson: Hello, my daughter. You look well yourself, considering your.. condition.

~Sadie gives a painful grin towards her mom, then turns to the man beside her.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Father.

Sal Anderson: Now what kind of a greeting is that? C’mon now, missie!

~The larger man steps forward, his cowboy hat falling to the side as he scoops up Sadie and swings her around, eliciting a laugh from Sadie in spite of herself. Vaughn, raising an eyebrow, stays behind, waiting for the right moment as father and daughter reunite. Finally, Sal turns to look back, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Vaughn. He steps forward… and then offers a handshake.~

Sal Anderson: Welcome to the family… pardner. Put ‘er there!

~Vaughn matches the handshake, with the two men staring at each other for a few moments as they test each other’s strength. The older man then lets out a guffaw and releases his grip, turning to Sadie once more.~

Sal Anderson: It’s good to see you, darlin’. I bet you’re starving. Your mother couldn’t wait to eat when she was pregnant with you, as well as your sister! We couldn’t keep her full, hah!

~Sylvia doesn’t look pleased at this reveal, but she simply looks over at the two final participants, who step into view. Sadie immediately goes to greet her sister, with a formal-looking hug.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Charlotte.

Charlotte Anderson: Sadie.

~Charlotte turns away, not acknowledging Vaughn as she turns to her man next to her. Sadie raises an eyebrow.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I don’t believe we’ve met.

Levi Ruiz: No, you haven’t been to the family get-togethers lately, have you? I am Levi, your sister’s beau for many months now.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Uh huh. Nice to meet you.

~Sadie goes for the handshake, but Levi slips it into a side hug, pressing against her before stepping aside to go rejoin Charlotte. Vaughn makes a note of it, but keeps his cool, knowing that Sadie wants tonight to go well. They go to take their seats again, as the waiter comes over.~

Waiter: Can I take your drink orders?

Peter Vaughn: A Yellow Rose, if you have it.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Whiskey. Best you’ve got.

~Everyone turns to stare at Sadie, who suddenly looks embarrassed, having ordered on pure instinct.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I, er, I mean, uh, Dr. Pepper, please.

Waiter: Very good.

~The waiter turns to leave, but Sal quickly clears his throat, raising up his hand.~

Sal Anderson: If it’s all the same to you, I’ll put in the orders. Six of your finest kobe steaks, cooked as God meant them to be, medium rare! Thanks, you’re a pal.

~The waiter looks around at the rest of the table, seeing no major disagreement, so she nods and heads off to put it in. With that, Sal turns to Vaughn, considering him.~

Sal Anderson: So you’re the rancher who knocked up my daughter, huh?

Sal Anderson: Dad!

~But Vaughn is already nodding in agreement, not backing down at all.~

Peter Vaughn: That’s one way of putting it. Your Sadie is a tremendous woman, Mr. Anderson.

Sal Anderson: Aw, damn, call me Sal, for pity’s sake! I hate being called Mr. Anderson. That was my dad. Sadie… I like this guy. He’s got some brass ones, doesn’t he? Hah!

~Vaughn can only give a weak smile as Sadie rubs her head, looking around for the waiter, wishing that she was bringing an alcoholic beverage. Sal then leans in a little closer.~

Sal Anderson: I will say that I’m a little ticked we weren’t invited to the wedding, though. You know we would have flown out there had we known.

Peter Vaughn: It was very last minute, Mr…. er, Sal. We didn’t have time to invite anyone.

Charlotte Anderson: Your brother was able to make it…

~Charlotte says this from the other side of the table, still not making eye contact. It’s clear that she’s not that approving of Peter Vaughn, but it’s something Vaughn’s dealt with all his life.~

Peter Vaughn: It’s my half-brother, and he just happened to be there at the time. If I had known a pregnancy and wedding was coming, I would have given you all more warning. But things worked out the way they worked out.

Sal Anderson: I get it, son. You wanted to make my little girl an honest woman, and I can respect that.

Sylvia Anderson: But you ARE going to have another wedding, are you not? One in the more… traditional sense?

Sadie A. Vaughn: That’s the plan, mother. Once we are able to find a good time for it.

Sylvia Anderson: You should not wait that long. You will soon find yourself unable to slip into a wedding gown so easily.

~Charlotte gives a muted chuckle into her drink, as Levi smiles next to her. Sadie looks annoyed, but Vaughn quickly puts an arm around her.~

Peter Vaughn: She will be beautiful no matter what she’s wearing.

Sal Anderson: Thattaboy! Way to say the right thing! I’m terrible at that, aren’t I, Syl?

Sylvia Anderson: Indeed…

~The drinks arrive, much to Sadie’s relief. She takes a drink from hers, looking enviously at Vaughn, who doesn’t seem to care about the time-honored tradition of denying yourself when your wife can’t imbibe. Of course, Vaughn probably doesn’t even know about that tradition. He doesn’t touch his beer, though, instead turning to Charlotte and Levi.~

Peter Vaughn: So what do you two do?

Charlotte Anderson: I help run Daddy’s ranch, like any daughter would do.

Levi Ruiz: Yep, we, uh, we both work at the ranch.

~Sal gives a chuckle at that.~

Sal Anderson: When’s the last time you did any hard work, Levi? You’re always on that phone of yours…

Levi Ruiz: It’s, uh, it’s business related.

~Levi runs a hand across his nose, sniffling for a second. It’s the telltale sign of a drug addict, but nothing can be proven at this point. Charlotte, her eyes narrowed after her beau failed to impress, turns to Vaughn.~

Charlotte Anderson: And what about you? You make your living as a… wrestler?

~Charlotte and Levi both scoff and laugh, with Sadie looking uncomfortably at Vaughn. But he still doesn’t seem fazed.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I wear many hats. I run my own ranch, the PMV Ranch, along with your daughter. It wouldn’t be successful without her, for sure. I am also a seller of online merchandise relating to the wrestling business, and yes, I’m a professional wrestler. I’ll be defending my championship at Sin City Wrestling’s Summer XXXtreme XII next week, actually.

Levi Ruiz: Isn’t that all fake?

~A dark look flashes across Vaughn’s face, but it quickly clears up.~

Peter Vaughn: No, Levi. No it’s not. If you tune in to the show, you’ll see how real it can actually be.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Yes, well, on that note, we should probably talk about something else…

Charlotte Anderson: Like what? How you managed to get yourself trapped in a pregnancy so easily?

~That one hits like a bombshell, with Sadie openly gasping for a second in shock. Sal lowers his head, but Sylvia has a small grin on her face.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Excuse me?

Charlotte Anderson: You were always so self-righteous, sis, but here you are, getting yourself knocked up and marrying this… man here. Were you THAT desperate to be away from your family?

Sadie A. Vaughn: Of course not! That’s not why… I mean…

Charlotte Anderson: And you! Taking advantage of my sister like that. You should be ashamed of yourself. You just wanted a way in, so you could get her inheritance, didn’t you?

Peter Vaughn: Well, one, I didn’t know her family was wealthy, and two, I’m a millionaire myself, so…

~That gets a gasp from almost everyone around the table, even Sal, who looks up in surprise.~

Charlotte Anderson: Y-you’re a millionaire? YOU??

Peter Vaughn: What can I say? I’ve done well in all my businesses, especially wrestling. Although I’m hoping that my ranch soon exceeds my yearly wrestling profits. My career won’t last forever, you know.

~Charlotte looks truly flabbergasted that Vaughn has money. She looks him up and down again, utterly shocked. Sylvia also looks surprised, but she also seems a little bit more relaxed, possibly showing her own concerns for why they married. Levi, sensing that things are starting to change, decides to get involved.~

Levi Ruiz: Well, yeah, but that’s pocket change compared to Mr. Anderson over here.

Sal Anderson: It’s Sal, SAL, dang nab it!

Levi Ruiz: And it’s really not cool of you to put a baby in her before marriage. It’s not right.

Peter Vaughn: Well, it’s not like I planned…

Charlotte Anderson: SURE you didn’t. I bet you just didn’t want to give her a chance to wisen up. You’re one of those creepy rich guys, aren’t you?? You had to get what you wanted, so you trapped her!

~Charlotte gets to her feet, throwing her drink forward right into Vaughn’s face. Sadie jumps up as well, furious.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Now just a damn minute! You can’t do that to him!

~But Vaughn still somehow keeps his cool. He gets up, motioning to Sadie to calm down, since it’s not great for their child. He then wipes off his face with a napkin before looking back at Charlotte, who seems a little nervous now, as she had reacted on impulse.~

Charlotte Anderson: I… I…

~Vaughn smiles, trying to defuse the tension.~

Peter Vaughn: Don’t worry about it. You’re family, Charlotte. And I’ve had much worse done to me by family. It was a waste of your drink, though, we’ll need to get you another. Waiter?

~Vaughn raises up his hand, signaling to the waiter, as Levi angrily steps forward.~

Levi Ruiz: Hey! Don’t be ordering for my girl! You can’t be here trying to steal both of them! Why I oughta…

~With one quick motion, Vaughn grabs Levi by the head, slamming him into the top of the dining table!!! Levi collapses backwards, crashing to the floor, as Charlotte screams and drops down to check on him. Sadie groans, looking over at her shocked parents, as Vaughn picks up his drink.~

Peter Vaughn: You, son? You’re not family.

~Vaughn takes a big swig of his beer, even as the wait staff begins to come out with several plates of food… stopping in surprise when they see that someone’s down. We slowly cut away.~


Sometimes you just have to knock some sense into a person.

It probably isn’t the best delivery system, but it definitely gets the point across, doesn’t it? Then again, I’ve hit you in the face several times, Carter, and it still hasn’t seemed to register to you that you’re out of your league against me.

There is a reason I was the Roulette Champion for a record-breaking amount of time, keeping guys like you away from the gold for months on end. There is a reason that I’m the Internet Champion, smashing down any opposition that gets in my way. There is a reason that I came away with the Golden Briefcase, an honor that would have been wasted on anyone else, especially you.

I am simply better than you, Carter.

There is just no getting around it. While you’ve treaded water in the shallow end of the Sin City pool, just happy to keep your head above the surface, I’ve been dominating every level I’ve been in. I’m ready for the deep end, Carter. I’m ready to thrive there against the best of the best. You? You still need arm floaties just to dare to reach where I am.

What will Milo do if you end up drowning?

He can’t go after me. Not while I’m holding the Internet Championship. You do realize you’ve put him in a horrible situation at this point. He must feel impotent, unable to save you when you’re about to crash and burn. He can only watch as I punish you from side to side, cracking your throat on the guardrail, breaking your legs around the ringposts with a figure four, whatever it takes. And honestly, it will be mercy when I finally put you down with Revenged, or have you take The Plunge once more.

Just remember, Carter. For the rest of your agonizing life, you’ll be forced to remember that you chose this.

I will not be held accountable for what happens.

But I WILL be responsible.

See you then, boyo.


~We are now outside of the restaurant, where Vaughn is cleaning off a few bits of rice off of his designer shirt. Sadie walks next to him, looking extremely upset. They head towards Vaughn’s beloved truck, Gabriella, with Vaughn taking a deep breath before facing Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: So… I suppose that could have gone better…

~Sadie gives an aggrieved snort before putting her hand on the truck. She lets out a small, angry shout, before rearing back to kick Gabriella. Vaughn hurriedly steps in front.~

Peter Vaughn: Whoa, whoa! Calm down, Sadie!

~Sadie resists the urge to kick her husband, who’s now in the way. She turns, leaning backwards against him (and the truck) instead.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I should have known. Charlotte was just chomping at the bit to make me the bad guy, and she succeeded, right in front of my mother.

Peter Vaughn: Your dad was there too…

Sadie A. Vaughn: I know!!

~Sadie trembles, furious at what went down, with Vaughn reaching around her and holding her to help her calm herself. It’s hard to tell if he’s doing it more for her or the baby, but either way, it works.~

Peter Vaughn: Look… I’ll send apologies to Levi. He should really have a firmer jaw, though.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I doubt you’ll need to. After tonight, Charlotte’s going to dump him just for looking weak. She’s always wanted her men strong.

Peter Vaughn: And yet you ended up with me. Oh, the irony…

~Sadie can’t help but laugh at Vaughn’s self-gratification there. She turns to him.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: So what ARE we going to do?

Peter Vaughn: We could always invite your parents on the cruise. I can swing another room, assuming they haven’t given away all the wrestler freebies.

Sadie A. Vaughn: You mean it? You’d be willing to have them there when you’re defending your title?

Peter Vaughn: Something tells me Sylvia wouldn’t be caught dead near the ring. But Sal would be a hoot.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I don’t think you fully know what you’re getting yourself into.

Peter Vaughn: Maybe not… but after this experience, how much worse can it get?

~Vaughn opens the door for Sadie, helping her into the truck, not knowing how much he’ll regret those words in the coming days. The camera image zooms upwards, away from the married couple, and heads down onto another vehicle further away. Inside, we see Thomas Hill, Vaughn’s half-brother, sitting in a taxi with his & Vaughn’s mother, Angela Hill, who is clutching at a folder in her arms, looking extremely tired. The cabbie drives them on, taking them to where they need to go, as we fade out.~


4
Climax Control Archives / Delivering Success... Time And Time Again...
« on: July 12, 2024, 11:00:46 PM »

Last Week

~The picture slowly comes up outside of the Southwest Motors Events Center in Pueblo, Colorado. We see Peter Vaughn coming out the door, with a toothpick in his mouth. He spits it out to the side, having finished whatever he was eating, and then walks towards the company parking lot, where security is monitoring everyone’s vehicles. As Vaughn walks forward, though, the door behind him slams open, with a heavyset man hurrying out of it with a camera on his shoulder.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn! Wait, Mr. Vaughn!

~Vaughn stops, a little annoyed, as the cameraman heads towards him. Through the miracle of editing, the shot switches to the image of what the cameraman is seeing, as he approaches Vaughn. He stops, a little out of breath, while working to keep the camera steady.~

Peter Vaughn: I assume there’s a reason you’ve chased me down, boyo? What, I didn’t give you guys enough of a promo inside?

Cameraman: Oh… no, it’s not… that at all… Mr. Vaughn…

Peter Vaughn: Breathe, champ. You’ll speak faster if you can get that under control, and I’ve got places to be.

~For a few seconds, the cameraman does just that, taking a few hearty breaths of air to get his lungs under control. Vaughn waits impatiently, looking down at his watch, as the cameraman recovers.~

Cameraman: Sorry. You wouldn’t believe how heavy this equipment gets…

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. Trust me, it’s good for you to be exercising. So now, what’s up?

Cameraman: Well, first of all, Mr. Vaughn, you’re leaving tonight’s event early.

Peter Vaughn: Very observant of you.

Cameraman: But I have to ask… Finn Whelan is wrestling in the main event tonight. In fact, his team is defending their belts right about now. And I have to think, since you have the Golden Briefcase, there might be an opportunity…

~Vaughn puts up a hand, stopping the cameraman from talking. He smirks.~

Peter Vaughn: Let me just stop you right there. When I cash in, it’s going to be in a singles contest, probably when the SCW Heavyweight Title is already on the line. I’m not going to interrupt a Tag-Team contest. For pity’s sake, I’ve been on enough tag-teams where my partner has let me down. I certainly don’t want to cause disappointment for Kayla by taking out her partner mid-match.

Cameraman: Okay, but…

Peter Vaughn: Also, you get into all the confusion after that. If I pin Finn, do I win the Heavyweight Title? Or the Tag-Team Titles? It gets rather messy. It’s best I just stay away.

Cameraman: But once the match is over, couldn’t you challenge Mr. Whelan then? When he’s already been through a contest?

Peter Vaughn: With his tag-team partner right there, ready to cause the disqualification and cost me my title shot? You need to think through these things a little better, big man…

~The cameraman gets quiet, properly chastised. Vaughn sighs, takes a few steps so he can lean against his precious truck, Gabriella.~

Peter Vaughn: Look. I have unfinished business with Finn. I also have unfinished business with Sean. I plan to rectify that fairly soon. But it doesn’t mean that I have to completely circumvent the system to do so. Now… COULD I do that? Maybe. But not right now, for sure. Soon. But not now.

Cameraman: Okay… so how do you feel about your match next week with Rodrigo Afonso? They’re saying that if Mr. Afonso wins, he’ll get an Internet Title shot against you.

Peter Vaughn: Well, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Honestly, I’m surprised I’m not defending against him already. I was prepared to put the title on the line next week. I haven’t done so since Milo, and I am ready to put a few more points on the board. But the powers that be made it a non-title match, since it’s Rods, and so he’ll get his opportunity to prove himself. Will he follow through? I’m doubtful… but it could happen. The man’s hurting right now, after all.

Cameraman: Hurting?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. I basically stole his Golden Briefcase from him, the one that was supposed to make him a champion. I’d be hurting after that, wouldn’t you?

Cameraman: I suppose so. But he could have cashed it in.

Peter Vaughn: He could have. He didn’t. That just marks him as a cautionary tale for me to learn from. That said, he could be dangerous right now, with nothing left to lose. Or he could be broken. I suppose I’ll find out next week, won’t I?

Cameraman: I suppose we will.

Peter Vaughn: Now, look, friend. I can give you more of an interview this next week, but I need to hit the road. I need to get back to Sadie.

Cameraman: Your wife? Why, is something wrong?

Peter Vaughn: … No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything is great. I just need to get back to her, because, y’know, she’s pregnant. And we have a decent drive ahead to get back to the ranch.

Cameraman: Okay, Mr. Vaughn. Thank you for waiting for me and answering some questions. Drive safely out there!

Peter Vaughn: Don’t worry about me. I have a perfect driving record. All of the accidents have happened behind me. See you later!

~Vaughn gets into Gabriella, ready to drive off, as the cameraman steps back, perhaps pondering that accident remark. He doesn’t say anything, though, as Vaughn drives off, taking his briefcase and championship with him. We cut away.~


The Present

~We come on to a shot of Peter Vaughn standing in the middle of a hay-torn shed, staring forward at a large cow laying in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: Well… I didn’t expect to be seeing this kind of view this week…

~Vaughn shakes his head, as the man next to him gives a laugh.~

Cliff: Ah know, boss, but you never know what’s coming around the corner, do you?

Peter Vaughn: Nope. Life can be unpredictable. So what did the vet say?

~Vaughn steps closer to the cow, putting a hand on the animal’s side, as if trying to feel what’s going on. The cow just gives a weak moo, looking away from him.~

Cliff: Vet said that this cow would be delivering its calf any day now, when he was out here two days ago. He said that everything looked good at the time, but obviously, something ain’t right now.

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. And let me guess, that vet isn’t answering their phone right now?

Cliff: Oh no, he answered. But he’s apparently knee deep in pig’s blood at the Dalton farm. Three of the pigs have gone into labor, and you know there can be 10-15 piglets from each one. So he won’t be able to get over here anytime soon.

Peter Vaughn: *Sigh* We don’t pay him enough, clearly. We should be a priority for him. We’ll have to look around for other options after tonight. So from what I’ve seen from the other births, the calf just comes right out. What’s the problem here?

Cliff: No clue. She’s just been down like that for the last hour. I definitely think something is wrong.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah…

~Suddenly, there’s noise at the shed doorway as it swings open. Sadie Anderson Vaughn is there, dressed in her usual working clothes, as she steps into the barn and looks around.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I just heard. What’s going on?

Peter Vaughn: Just a cattle issue, Sadie. Nothing for you to be too concerned about.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Oh, really? And which one of us grew up on a ranch again? Who has the most experience with these sorts of things?

Peter Vaughn: I mean…

Sadie A. Vaughn: Trust me, dear, that’s a rhetorical question, you don’t need to answer. So what’s happening with Bonnie?

~Sadie moves past Vaughn to check on the cow, probing along the side, while Vaughn looks over at Cliff, who gives him a bemused shrug. Vaughn then steps over to Sadie’s side, waiting.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Hmmm. I think the birth is in dystocia. I think something’s wrong with the calf inside. Did you call the vet?

Peter Vaughn: Busy with a trio of Miss Piggy’s.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Damn…

Peter Vaughn: But don’t worry. Cliff and I have got this.

Cliff: We do?

~Vaughn reaches over, pulling out two arm-length plastic gloves and raising them up in the air.~

Peter Vaughn: We do.

~Sadie raises her eyebrows, looking back and forth between them, as Cliff nervously nods. He’s always up for anything, although he knows this could get… messy. We cut away.~


You do what you have to do in any business. It’s the way things work.

For instance, Rodrigo, here I am, scheduled to fight you once again. We’ve faced many times, you and I, through Roulette Title surprise matches to single affairs to Golden Briefcase wars. And in all of them, Rods, it looks like I’ve pulled out the victory. But you know what? It’d be bad to just look at the wins and losses and assume that’s the whole story. I know that you’ve come close in almost every encounter we’ve had. You could have easily stepped right instead of left at some point and become the Roulette Champion, or ducked when you previously jumped and avoided your downfall.

I know that I’ve had some luck on my side, at times. I don’t RELY on luck, but I certainly accept it when it works for me.

Here’s the thing, though, Roddy, I think you’re struggling right now, for sure. You’re seeing me holding this piece of property I took from you, showing it off to the world and immediately getting the attention of guys like Finn and Sean, and you’re probably feeling some jealousy. You’re probably thinking you want to take away a piece of MY property, eyeing the Internet Championship around my waist.

And you know what I say? Bring it on.

Show me what you’ve got, Rods. Slam into me with a force of a hurricane, Hurricane Afonso, and tear through me like Beryl did the coast of Texas. Launch into me with everything you’ve got, and you MIGHT find a way to come out victorious. And then, your title shot is completely assured. You’ll have earned it.

Or, you can add another defeat on the list at my hands, marking it down in all the historical lists. I mean, I’ve stopped recording them on my List of the Vanquished, but I’m sure someone’s keeping track.

But don’t let it be that way, Rodrigo. Get fired up. Attack me. Curse me out. Come at me, bro!

Because I’m certainly not going to come into this one at half power, no sir. I’m going to do my best to bounce that brain around inside your head and take you out of the competition once and for all. It’s nothing personal. It’s just what I do. If you’re not going to be the top contender for the Internet Title, it’s best I get you out of the way now and move forward.

Straight into Summer XXXtreeme XII for whoever else is in my way.

Will it be you, Roddy? Or will it be someone else answering the challenge? I suppose we’ll find out Sunday, won’t we?

I’ll see you there, kid.


~We are back in the small shed/barn where the birthing cattle are usually kept. Cliff and Vaughn have both gloved up now, and are sitting at the back of the downed cow, considering things, as Sadie watches on with concerned annoyance from the side. Cliff takes another look, swallows, and then glances over at Vaughn, speaking in a quiet voice.~

Cliff: Do you have any clue what we’re doing here, boss?

Peter Vaughn: Of course I do. I prepare for anything when I know something’s coming. I’ve watched several videos on cattle births.

Cliff: You’ve… watched videos?

Peter Vaughn: How else are you expected to learn, besides watching others do it? Now it’s time for the practical experience. Look, if you want, you can reach in here and feel around. Trust me, the cow won’t mind, at this point, they want something to happen back here.

~Vaughn indicates where he wants Cliff to go, and with another deep swallow, Cliff obeys, reaching in. The cow gives another moo, letting them know that she feels something. Cliff, not happy, gets in further, feeling around.~

Peter Vaughn: What do you feel? Anything?

Cliff: I… I feel a head, I think. The calf’s head. It’s moving. The calf is still alive.

Peter Vaughn: Alright, that’s good. Can you, y’know, give him a little tug? Get him started?

~Cliff nervously moves his arm, presumably pulling, but he immediately stops when he feels the calf struggling.~

Cliff: No. He’s not budging. Something ain’t right. Damn it, we need to get that vet over here now!

~Cliff pulls out, shaking off the glove, as he steps over to the side. He gets on his phone, ready to give the vet a piece of his mind. Meanwhile, Sadie, shaking her head, steps in closer to her husband.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I guess it’s up to you now.

Peter Vaughn: It usually is. Okay then. Let’s get to work.

~With no hesitation, Vaughn follows Cliff’s lead, using his gloved hand to go inside. He feels around, noticing the same calf head that Cliff did. But he feels around lower, checking the entire body that he can reach.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: What did you find? I see it on your face.

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, I’m finding a lot. This is taking me back to anatomy class back in high school. Still, it’s what I’m not finding that’s troubling. I only feel one hooved foot at the front. Shouldn’t there be two?

Sadie A. Vaughn: Oh no… one of the legs has gotten trapped behind. That’s why the calf can’t come through.

Peter Vaughn: Okay then. I guess we need to find that leg and get it straightened out.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Be careful. You could easily break it.

Peter Vaughn: Even if I did, we could always throw it in a cast and let the calf limp around. We need to get this guy out of there.

~Vaughn moves his hand around several times, likely pulling on the calf’s trapped leg. The cow gives a soft groan, feeling something happening. Suddenly, Vaughn is pulling backwards, trying to shift the calf around with one hand. After a few tense moments, the calf’s head appears, with Vaughn pulling below it. One hoof appears… and then, finally, a second one! The calf’s other legs soon follow as the entire calf spills out of the cow, landing on the ground. The calf is moving, still alive, as the cow starts to get up to come around and check on her baby. Vaughn gets to his feet, with Sadie stepping in to hug him… changing her mind when she sees the glove.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: You mind getting rid of that?

Peter Vaughn: Oh. Sure.

~Vaughn removes the glove, tossing it aside in the trash can. Sadie then does come in for a hug and kiss, while being careful of anything that might have transferred onto Vaughn’s coveralls. Cliff, meanwhile, steps back in.~

Cliff: The vet said he’d send his assistant… oh.

Peter Vaughn: I think we’re good here. Although it wouldn’t hurt to have the youngster get checked out, and the mother, too. That certainly wasn’t easy. You’ll keep an eye on them, right, Cliff?

Cliff: Sure, boss.

~Vaughn glances back at the two cows now in the fenced-off area, nodding his head at the avoidance of a costly loss. Cattle are big business, after all. He and Sadie head off, while Cliff gets back on the cell phone to give the vet an update. We jump away from the scene after one more shot of the recently-born calf.~


Life is precious… and sometimes a bit gross. But it is what it is.

You know, Roddy, you’ve had a privileged life. I get it, you may not see it that way. But there were people that would kill to have the family you did. To have the connections you did. To succeed the way you did. Let’s face it, when I was young, I didn’t have that kind of support. It was the reason my life headed into janitorial services, because let’s face it, I wasn’t going to eat without some kind of cash flow, and college obviously wasn’t happening.

So in a way, Rodz, I envy you.

In a very small, small way.

But things have certainly changed since then. I now own my very own ranch. I’m a prosperous businessman as well as now married and expecting my first child. You, Rods, you’re certainly not on as straight a path, are you? Your wrestling career is struggling, and you’re basically finding yourself heading back towards the Olympics, where you’ve had more success. So it’s been a rough ride, right? And yet I’ve heard rumors that you, too, might have a baby on the way. If this isn’t true, then I apologize for the misconception. If it IS true, then I guess that’s one more thing we have in common. Let me offer you my congratulations.

I’m sure you’ll make a great father.

Okay, no, I’m not sure, but I’ve been told that’s what you’re supposed to say. People keep saying it to me, and I honestly don’t know if any of them have meant it. Because, c’mon, how are we supposed to know if we’re going to be great fathers until we’re actually there being tested? I’d never proclaim myself the greatest wrestler in the federation without challenging as many of the top names as I could first. I certainly won’t call myself Father of the Year before the kid is even born.

I’ll leave that for Joe Montuori to brag about.

So what kind of legacy are you going to leave for your child, friend? A skateboarding legacy? I’ve heard of worse things. A wrestling legacy, though? Maybe they’ll have something to shoot for. Plenty of second-generation wrestlers have outclassed their fathers. I’d love to see my child enter the squared circle one day and compete to better all of the records I set in my long career. They’ll have a tough time keeping up, but they’ll have the right genes. Anything is possible.

Of course, they could also become a custodian. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Anyhow, this isn’t about the next generation. This is about us, Rods. You and me. Mano a mano one more time. Is this going to be it, do you think? Will this be the last time Peter and Rodrigo clash? Or will we meet again at the top of Sin City in the future? I suppose that could always happen… if something changes.

And I’m not talking about diapers.

But if this IS it, let’s go out with a bang, man. You only get so many opportunities in life. Why waste this one? Let’s show everyone that we can steal the show when we get things going. Let’s teach them that they can never take us for granted. I did it with Milo. I think there’s a chance we can do it as well. But it’s really on you.

I mean, I’m not getting paid by the hour. If I knock you out with Revenged in the first minute, then the paycheck’s the same.

But I’d rather go 45 minutes and put on a show. I want people living the arena talking about the experience of seeing a Peter Vaughn match live and in person. It’s something they could be telling their own kids about. A once-in-a-lifetime experience… and we can bring that to them.

So buck up, boyo. Bring what you’ve got. I’ll fire up The Mechanic for another destructive go-around. And maybe we can give everyone a five-star battle before you end up taking The Plunge.

Good luck.


~We go back to the ranch, where Peter and Sadie are currently sitting on the porch of their main homestead, looking out into the calm night sky. The weather has been unpredictable lately, but tonight is an actually decent night, one that should be enjoyed. Peter takes a sip of his beer, looking more relaxed now, as Sadie looks over at him.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: You’re looking very accomplished over there, Mr. Farmer.

Peter Vaughn: Heh. Well, I did what I had to do. Someone had to take over, didn’t they? And now that calf has a fighting chance.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Was it a he or a she? I didn’t notice.

Peter Vaughn: I believe it was a she, which means she can join the milking and breeding brigades in the future.

Sadie A. Vaughn: That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.

Peter Vaughn: Hey, it’s better than the hamburger meat side…

~Sadie scoffs, not wanting to think about that right now. Peter goes back to his beer, enjoying the taste of it. Apparently he didn’t lose his appetite from what he just saw… or at least he’s still thirsty. Sadie looks upwards in the night sky, staring at the stars.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: It was a very pretty calf, wasn’t it?

Peter Vaughn: I suppose.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I can’t wait to see what our child’s eyes look like…

Peter Vaughn: I’ll tell you one thing: I’m not gloving up and helping out on that one. I’ll leave it to the doctors!

~Sadie laughs, smacking Peter on the arm. Peter smirks, before looking over at Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: How is that tomato juice?

Sadie A. Vaughn: Terrible. I miss having alcohol already.

Peter Vaughn: Well, we do what we have to, don’t we?

Sadie A. Vaughn: True. But it doesn’t mean you need to drink in front of me…

Peter Vaughn: Hey, I just hand-delivered a baby calf. I deserve this.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I suppose. Anyway, our child will be very different from that delivery. It’s going to be a perfect baby. I just know it.

~Peter looks away, not wanting to make eye contact. He still hasn’t been able to inform Sadie about what his various blood and DNA tests showed might happen. He may never tell her. But it may be unavoidable. Sadie is looking over at him now, a bit curious as to why he hasn’t responded, so Peter does what’s needed.~

Peter Vaughn: I’m sure he will be absolutely amazing.

Sadie A. Vaughn: “He”, huh?

Peter Vaughn: Of course. My genes will definitely deliver a boy.

Sadie A. Vaughn: And my “genes” favor a girl.

Peter Vaughn: I guess we’ll see who wins out.

Sadie A. Vaughn: I guess we will.

~The two are quiet for a moment, with Sadie reaching out to grab Peter’s hand. He accepts it, holding on.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I love you, Peter Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: ... I love you too.

~The slight hesitation goes unnoticed, as the two sit quietly, continuing to enjoy the cooling evening. The camera slowly zooms out, as we can hear cattle mooing in the distance.. including the sound of one new calf in the world. We slowly fade out.~


5
Climax Control Archives / Changes In Life... Changes In A Future Life...
« on: June 28, 2024, 05:13:05 PM »

Three Weeks Ago

~The glowing embers in the distance can be seen, drifting up from the edge of the somewhat active Kilauea volcano in the Hawaii Volcano National Park. In the evening gloom, it is truly a spectacular sight, watching the smoke rise up from various vents nearby. The camera shifts to the left, away from the most active part of the volcano, as we see a small assembly of people gathered nearby. Standing at the front is a minister, dressed in very loose-fitting clothing due to the heat. He is preaching from a scripture, adding his touch to the ceremony already taking place. Standing in front of him are two individuals. One is a blonde beauty, wearing an off-the-rack wedding dress that still appears to fit her quite magnificently. The other is a man wearing a set of coveralls… with a suit and tie over them. The minister finishes his homily, then closes the Bible in front of him as he addresses the couple standing before him.~

Minister: On this momentous occasion, I will now ask the two of you the vows of holy matrimony. Ladies first, as always.

~The minister turns to the bride, who we can now see clearly is a smiling Sadie Anderson. She is blushing under the veil she’s wearing. She still appears tired after recent events, but there was nothing that was going to stop her from being here today.~

Minister: Do you, Sadie, take this man to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?

Sadie Anderson: I do.

~Sadie’s smile grows even larger as she glances over at Peter Vaughn, whose face appears to be glowing. This is because of the volcanic activity nearby, though, not because of his happiness. It’s hard, really, to read the man’s expression at this time.~

Minister: Do you, Peter, take this woman to be your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?

~Vaughn looks at Sadie for a few moments, a pause that is barely noticeable, but is there nonetheless. After a second, though, Vaughn nods.~

Peter Vaughn: I do.

Minister: Then by the power vested in me by the holy church, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.

~There’s a small cheer from behind the bride and groom, as several wrestlers and well-wishers have apparently joined the short-notice wedding party. Vaughn steps forward, meeting Sadie, with the two sharing a long kiss as the volcano gives a brief rumble. It could be the Hawaiian gods blessing this event. It could be something else. Either way, with the kiss broken, Sadie and Peter turn towards the crowd, with the minister stepping up next to them.~

Minister: What God has brought together, let no force tear asunder. Ladies and gentlemen, may I be the first to introduce you to Peter & Sadie Vaughn!

~There are more cheers as Peter and Sadie step forward, both smiling now as they greet the few guests that were able to be there. One of them is Peter’s half-brother, Thomas Hill, who had served as the best man in this surprise affair. He pushes himself forward in his wheelchair, shaking Peter’s hand.~

Thomas Hill: Congratulations, Peter. I’m so happy for you.

Peter Vaughn: Thank you, Thomas.

Thomas Hill: As for you, sis, welcome to the family!

~Thomas grabs at Sadie’s arm, as she laughs and leans over to give him a hug. Peter watches the two members of his family embrace, as he turns away, looking over towards the lava pit nearby. His expression again fades into a blank look, as we slowly fade away from the happy scene.~


Looks like someone put a ring on it, doesn’t it?

I admit, it’s a strange sensation for me, now being a married man. I never believed it was possible for someone like me. But that’s where I am now… and where you’re going to be in a few months, HB.

Sorry I got my wedding in first. It was very spontaneous, trust me.

I know you and Milo are planning to be very happy together, HB, and I also know that you’re probably interested in a taste of revenge after, y’know, I knocked you out with chloroform. Also, there’s the fact that I beat your man senseless and denied him my Internet Championship. So maybe you see this little contrived Golden Briefcase match as your chance to pay me back. But I’m going to tell you right now, HB: Don’t bother.

You don’t stand a chance against me. You and I both know it.

I’ve beaten you in singles matches. I’ve taken you down in tag-team matches. I even knocked you out to pin you when you had your best possible partner: Milo. The odds have never been in your favor against me.

Let’s face it, the only person given greater odds than you in this one is Artie. Nobody’s betting on that boyo.

So will a multi-man chaos match be any better for you? I guess if you had a deceitful bone in your body, maybe. But you and Milo… you’re good men. You wouldn’t even beat the crap out of each other when ordered to. I suppose I can respect that. But it also means that you probably won’t take advantage of the moment when I’m distracted, and that’s really your only opportunity to win.

Don’t even try for the gold, HB. It’s not your color. Stick to Milo Blue.


Two Weeks Ago

~We come back to find Peter Vaughn sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. He’s looking uncharacteristically nervous, his legs struggling to stay in place as he rocks back and forth. Vaughn tries to distract himself by looking around the room, and his eyes lock onto a small boy sitting nearby, staring at him. Vaughn returns the look, then gives the kid a patented smirk.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, kid. Recognize me, I take it?

Kid: … MOOOMMMM!!!!

~The kid immediately jumps from his chair and runs off, as Vaughn, surprised, stands up. Thankfully, the kid’s mother was just coming out of the restroom. She moves over, catching the running kid and picking him up, with the kid sobbing in her shoulder. She looks over, glaring at Vaughn, before turning and leaving the waiting room, as Vaughn can only shrug helplessly.~

Peter Vaughn: But I didn’t DO anything!!

~The other people waiting simply ignore the scene, as Vaughn shakes his head. Behind him, the door opens.~

Dr. Fisher: Are you causing trouble in my waiting room again, Mr. Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: Dr. Fisher!

~Vaughn turns, seeing the older doctor walking towards him with a smile on his face. Vaughn shakes his hand, before turning back to the doorway where the woman left with her child.~

Peter Vaughn: I swear, all I said was hello…

Dr. Fisher: I’m sure it will be alright. C’mon, let’s go inside so we can talk about what’s bringing you here today.

~The two men head into one of the diagnosis rooms, with Vaughn opting to sit in the chair instead of up on the raisable bed. Dr. Fisher takes note of that, before moving to the other chair in the room. He grabs his clipboard and pen to take notes if needed.~

Dr. Fisher: So you said on the phone that you wanted a physical to… check something? Have you been feeling pain in any particular place? Or been fatigued?

Peter Vaughn: No, it’s nothing like that, doctor. You see… I got married last week.

~The doctor drops his pen, fumbling it, before managing to get it back.~

Dr. Fisher: You? Really?? Well, congratulations, Mr. Vaughn! It was that lovely Ms. Anderson, wasn’t it?

Peter Vaughn: Yes, it was her. She’s… pregnant.

~This time, the doctor just sits his entire clipboard to the side.~

Dr. Fisher: Wow. Well… I suppose double congratulations are in order. You’re going to be… a father?

Peter Vaughn: That’s just it, sir. I… don’t know if I am. You see… it’s probably hidden in your files, but many years ago, I was told that my exposure to certain chemicals had all but made me… infertile. They said that there was almost zero chance that I could ever have children.

~Dr. Fisher’s eyes widen, and he turns, going to the computer this time. He types up Vaughn’s file to take a look at it, as Vaughn keeps talking.~

Peter Vaughn: I had come to accept that diagnosis, doctor. I had accepted it. But now… my new wife is pregnant. And I… I need to know…

Dr. Fisher: … that it’s yours?

~Vaughn takes a moment before nodding. Dr. Fisher reads through the notes on Vaughn’s chart, looking a little puzzled.~

Dr. Fisher: Well, I’ll tell you this, Mr. Vaughn. I do see a few notes about this in your file, but there are no test results pinned to it. That makes me a little critical of those results. I certainly think there’s no harm in doing an additional series of tests. Does this sound like a good idea?

~Once again, Vaughn just nods. So Dr. Fisher gets up, looking around in the cabinets, before handing Vaughn a plastic jar with a lid on it. Vaughn takes it, suddenly puzzled.~

Peter Vaughn: What’s this for?

Dr. Fisher: What do you think? We should obviously start with you first, before we ‘trouble’ your wife with this. So I’m going to need… a sample.

Peter Vaughn: … Oh…

Dr. Fisher: The restroom’s right down the hall.

~More than a little thrown off, Vaughn gets up, walking slowly to the door. He stares down at the jar, as if wondering if it’s worth it. He looks at the doctor again, who has a sympathetic grin.~

Dr. Fisher: You want to know, right?

Peter Vaughn: … No. But I do NEED to know.

~With that, Vaughn heads out the door, disappearing down the hall. The doctor sighs, knowing that this could be trouble, as we fade out.~


Mysteries can drive a man into the depths of insanity if he’s not careful.

For instance, there’s the mystery of who this Entity really is. I’ve wrestled numerous guys who have liked to keep their identities hidden from the world. The Lost Soul. The Masked Stranger. El Diablo Blanco. Usually, I don’t give a damn. Keep your secrets. But I have to say, you’re intriguing me, Entity.

You see, I used to wear a mask just like yours when I was on the… unstable side. The folks here at Sin City have been lucky they haven’t seen that side of me. I’m rather pleased I’ve left it in the past, to be honest. I much prefer the way I wrestle now, more in… control. But that mask DOES give you that feeling of anonymity, doesn’t it? It gives you the power to be something you’re not, whatever that something might be.

I don’t need that feeling anymore. I suppose you do.

It doesn’t change the fact that I’m considering you a major threat in this contest, Ent. I watched as you took down Goth, my Saviors ally. From that day, I’ve always known that we’d meet at some point, and apparently that date has been fixed. I finally will be able to get my hands on you and see what makes you tick.

I might see what color your blood is, too. It depends on how crazed this contest really gets.

You’re going to be a focus for me, Ent. I’m going to try to take you out of the equation any way I possibly can. Because, let’s be honest: you’re a wildcard that I don’t want to have to deal with at the last minute.

I mean, Artie’s kind of a wildcard, too, but he’s more of the Joker variety: a card that will never win anything.

But you look too talented for me to look the other way as we begin.

I’m going to have to break something early.

But don’t worry. While I’m perfectly willing to maim you to get you out of the way in my quest for that Golden Briefcase, I have no intention of trying to unmask you. That’s your secret to keep, and I’d never try to force a reveal from you. You can shock the world with your identity in your own time, wherever you want.

Perhaps after the weeks of recovery pass.


One Week Ago

~We now see Peter Vaughn and his new wife, Sadie Anderson Vaughn, making their way out of the Denver airport. Vaughn is carrying both suitcases and both backpacks, with Sadie shaking her head as she walks behind him.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I could really carry one of those, Peter, you don’t have to do everything…

Peter Vaughn: No, no, you’re pregnant. You’re not supposed to do heavy lifting.

Sadie A. Vaughn: It’s a little early to worry about something like that, dear.

Peter Vaughn: It’s never too early to be safer than sorry…

~Sadie smiles, touched at Peter’s gesture, even if it is a bit misplaced. They get the next cab that’s waiting, with the driver helping Peter put everything in the trunk. They then get in.~

Cab Driver: Where to, friends?

Peter Vaughn: The Four Seasons, please.

~The driver nods and pulls away, as Sadie looks over at Peter, surprised.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: The Four Seasons? Isn’t that horribly expensive?

Peter Vaughn: I wouldn’t say it was cheap, no…

Sadie A. Vaughn: Then why there? We always stay at the budget hotels, don’t we? Was there a problem finding a room?

Peter Vaughn: No. I’m sure there were other rooms. But… it’s what you should have, right? You and the baby?

~Sadie covers her mouth with her hand, but it doesn’t hide the fact that she’s laughing. Vaughn’s eyebrows constrict in a slight show of annoyance.~

Peter Vaughn: What’s funny about that? I’m doing what I’m supposed to do… right?

~The hand can’t contain the laughter anymore, as Sadie leans forward, grabbing onto Peter’s shoulder as she lets it out.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Ah hah hah!! I’m sorry, Peter, but… why do you think anything’s got to change in how we work together?

Peter Vaughn: Well, because… because we’re married, And you’re expecting…

Sadie A. Vaughn: In eight months or so, yes. But you don’t have to treat me like some priceless artifact now. We can still stay at the smaller hotels. I’d rather save our money anyways.

Peter Vaughn: Are you sure? I thought… well, I thought things would need to be… grander…

Sadie A. Vaughn: You don’t have to buy me off, Peter. You’ve already got me, remember?

~Sadie shows off the ring on her finger, a brilliant diamond ring that Vaughn paid a pretty penny for. Vaughn looks at it, considers her words, and then turns to the driver.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me, sir. Slight change of plans. Can you take us to a Best Western? Thanks.

~The driver shrugs, not minding the ability to extend the trip, as Vaughn settles back next to a smirking Sadie. His phone chirps, catching his attention. He takes out his phone, looking at it, as Sadie glances up in curiosity.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Who is it?

Peter Vaughn: It’s just Thomas, making sure we made it in.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Tell him hi for me.

~Vaughn nods, before glancing at the screen again. This time, we can see the text that has come in, from a hospital number. It reads rather simply: “Mr Vaughn, your test results have come in. Please make an appointment with Dr. Fisher’s office.” Vaughn reads the text a few more times before closing his phone and looking out the window.~

Peter Vaughn: Have you ever been to Garden of the Gods? It’s not far from here…

Sadie A. Vaughn: Tell me more…

~As Vaughn keeps talking about the park, we cut away from the cab, leaving Denver behind.~


I suppose the more things change, the more things should stay the same.

I have a ton of changes going on in my life, but there IS one thing I’m confident on: I’m still better than Rodrigo Afonso. Hey, Hot Rod! Long time no see. Remember when I rammed your head repeatedly into that junkbox while “Don’t Stop Me Now” was playing? And a little bit later, I dropped you with the Keyholder onto broken glass? Does it ring a bell?

How about at High Stakes 13, when I had to put you in an STF submission because you were just too covered in blood for me to use my Crossface? Or how you watched your dreams of taking my Roulette Title go up in smoke as  I made you pass out in a triangle choke?

Actually, it wouldn’t surprise me if you don’t remember that. Short-term memory loss would be rather common in that situation, I would think.

But even though I kicked your ass on a few occasions, Roddy, I know you’ve had a little success since then. In fact, you have a Golden Briefcase already, don’t you? So why are you in this match for another one? Or… wait…

Is this YOUR Golden Briefcase we’re competing for?

That’d be a kick, if Guy decided to force you to have your briefcase up against some of the best in the business. But truthfully, I don’t really know if this is yours, or if you’re getting a chance to double up. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. I mean, the results are going to be the same.

I’m likely going to make you eat that skateboard again.

I mean, it’s not out of malice. I really have nothing against you. Really, I don’t have problems with most of the people in this match. Many, like you and Artie, I couldn’t give a damn about. If I had my way, I’d never be getting in the ring with you again, and I’m certainly not thrilled to be facing Artie even once. The guy should have stuck with being with Bobbie, and left the wrestling to her.

But I digress.

It’s really just your own damn bad luck, Rods, that you keep ending up in these insane matches with me, even when the Roulette wheel isn’t involved. I mean, that spinner hung you out to dry twice, and now a random Golden Briefcase match against me? You should really fire your agent. He or she is not doing you any favors.

So what will it be this time? A blockbuster off the ladder? A Revenged through a table? Or will I be giving you the ultimate Plunge? I suppose we’ll see. Hey, in a match like this, you can always hope that someone else takes you out beforehand. Depending on who it is, that might be the best option for you.

Live to skate another day, right?

That said… if this IS your briefcase… take this one piece of advice from me. Come out at the beginning of the night and attack someone and cash in, because it’s going to be your very last chance to use it, boyo.


Three Days Ago

~We find ourselves in the diagnosis room once again, as Vaughn is now anxiously pacing back and forth, ignoring both the bed and the chair entirely. He rubs at the back of his head, looking frustrated at having to wait this time. We hear the chirp of his phone once again, with Vaughn taking a look at the message from Sadie, asking where he’s at. He sends a brief response back: “At the gym. Be back home later.” Vaughn then puts the phone back away, as the door finally opens and Dr. Fisher steps in.~

Dr. Fisher: Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Vaughn. A boy came in with a nose that just wouldn’t stop bleeding, so he had to take priority. You’d know something about bloody noses, wouldn’t you, he he…

~Vaughn doesn’t laugh with him, as he simply waits for Dr. Fisher to continue. Sensing his intensity level, Dr. Fisher immediately gives up on the joking manner and heads over to the computer to pull up the test results.~

Peter Vaughn: Come straight with me, doctor. I can take it.

Dr. Fisher: Well, Mr. Vaughn, we finished all of the tests. First off, let me assure you that you are in very good condition for a man of your age. Our tests showed that despite your earlier cause of worry, you are actually in perfect working order. I would say the odds are extremely high that your wife is, indeed, carrying your son.

~For a moment, Vaughn looks like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He then steps forward, a huge smile on his face, as he grabs the doctor around both shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: That’s it? That’s what I’ve been worrying about all week?? Doctor, that’s GREAT news! You couldn’t have just texted that to me, instead of making me come in?? Sheesh!!

~Despite his complaints, Vaughn is still grinning, his relief obvious in his stance. He completely misses that Dr. Fisher’s still got a slightly grave look on his face, as Vaughn steps back away, taking a seat for the first time.~

Peter Vaughn: I didn’t even know what to tell Sadie. I told her I was at the gym! Hah! I guess I’m going to have to go work out…

~Vaughn takes a deep breath, letting it out, as Dr. Fisher sits forward in his own chair.~

Dr. Fisher: Mr. Vaughn… Peter… there’s more we need to talk about.

~Finally noticing his doctor’s face, Vaughn straightens up slightly, his smile faltering.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh? You said… you said it’s my child, right?

Dr. Fisher: Most likely it is, although we haven’t tested genetics, since your wife hasn’t been involved. But we did test you, Peter… and we found some abnormalities.

Peter Vaughn: Abnormalities?

Dr. Fisher: I’m afraid so. They showed up during our tests.

Peter Vaughn: Okay. So… what does that mean?

Dr. Fisher: It might mean nothing, Peter. But it does raise possibilities that we can’t ignore. Your child may very well be born perfectly healthy. But there are signs we are going to have to watch out for, that might signal… unavoidable problems. I’m afraid it’s going to be a waiting game…

~Vaughn is quiet, thinking over what the doctor has just told him. He then looks back at him, his fighting stare already in his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: Then let’s go over what we’re going to have to beat, doc.

~Dr. Fisher clears his throat, knowing that some things can’t be defeated by sheer willpower. But Vaughn has never met something that he couldn’t take down, and in his mind, this will be no different. We cut away again.~


I’ve found in life that the Boogeyman can be real.

Many would consider J2H in that category. He’s been an absolute beast in Sin City, no doubt. He’s taken me down in the past, a feat that not too many people here can say, and he did it without any interference or trickery. It would have been nice if he had slipped on a banana peel during the match, but it didn’t go down that way, did it? So yes, if anyone is the favorite to walk away with that Golden Briefcase, it’s J2H.

But there are other factors than just pure talent. There’s the factor of determination.

As in, will J2H actually WANT to get the Golden Briefcase?

Let’s face it. I used to have a lot more respect for J2H. Even when I was getting inserted into his feud with Alexander Raven as a ‘side piece’, forced to fight both of them, I still knew that J2H was a dominating force that would have to be taken out of my way if I wanted to gravitate to my next World Championship run. I was thinking that, if I could take him out, I’d be well on my way to claiming another major title.

But J2H managed the right move at the right time, and he got the win. And then he walked away from the World Title.

I’ve still not found a way in my heart to forgive him for that. The belt had already taken some hits from Michael Harris’ departure after losing to HB Carter. But it seemed like it was going to recover with J2H reclaiming it. Imagine my shock when J2H gave the belt up just due to a lack of competition, RIGHT AFTER WRESTLING ME.

To say it was discouraging would be an understatement.

If I was to point to anything that led to my brief confidence issues earlier this year, it was you, J2H. But I’ve put all that behind me now, because I’ve come to realize the exact truth of the situation: you didn’t want to be labeled a loser. Maybe you saw something in my wrestling style, or maybe it had nothing to do with me at all, I don’t know. But the fact that you vacated the belt rather than lose it? It showed vulnerability.

A vulnerability that I think everyone in this match is going to want to exploit.

You’re the one I’m most looking forward to, J2H. You’re the one I want to get my hands on. Because you have a lot to answer for, mister. You’re the Boogeyman that needs to be put down once and for all, and I think I’m the man that can do it. I’m going to do my damnest to make sure you don’t end up with that briefcase, because NOBODY wants to see you at the top anymore. Nobody wants to see you challenging for a belt that you might just drop anyway.

Nobody wants history to repeat itself.

So even if it means I end up costing myself that shot, I’m still going to make my main goal denying you the briefcase. I’ll get there on my own eventually. Finn and Sean know that I’m coming. I just need to make sure that you aren’t the one, J2H. You don’t deserve to be the one.

Maybe I’ll toss the briefcase to Artie as a lark. Wouldn’t that be funny? Seeing Artie try and cash in? I could see it. But Artie would probably miss the hook and fall off the ladder. Still, I’d rather see that than J2H making that climb.

And the look on J2H’s face would be absolutely priceless.

Well, whether that happens, or I just take the victory myself, it won’t matter. All that I care about is that we don’t have the dread of J2H holding that briefcase over Sin City like a mad god. It’s time for him to be wiped out.

Just call me The God Killer. The Boogeyman Eraser. The Bane of J2H.

It’s time J2H finally takes the Plunge.


Today

~We now find ourselves back in the Garden of Betrayal, one of Vaughn’s long-time hangouts. He’s sitting quietly in the pavilion near the center of the garden, staring at a screen that appears to hold a letter he’s writing to Sadie. We don’t get much of a look at it, though, as the cameraman makes his way in.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn?

~Vaughn slams the laptop shut, leaping to his feet, startling the cameraman, who nearly falls backwards. Vaughn turns his way, putting a big, straining smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there, guy. Haven’t seen you since Hawaii. We missed you at the wedding.

Cameraman: … I was invited?

Peter Vaughn: Nope. But that doesn’t usually stop you, does it?

Cameraman: I, uh, I guess not. So, did you want to give some final statements for your Golden Briefcase match?

Peter Vaughn: Sure.

~After one more glance back at the laptop, Vaughn steps out into the sunlight, focusing himself before looking at the camera lens.~

Peter Vaughn: I’m looking at this match in three tiers. First, you have the opening tier: Artie. As a favor to Bobbie, I’ll tell you this: you should really stay in the back. You’ve been warned. That’s all I have to say about you.

~Vaughn extends two fingers.~

Peter Vaughn: Tier two is HB and Rodrigo. Guys with talent who are still not deserving of top-tier status. Sure, you can manage miracles, just see HB pinning Harris and Rodrigo getting that briefcase. But I wouldn’t count on miracles in Colorado Springs, boyos.

~A third finger comes up. Coincidentally, it’s the middle one.~

Peter Vaughn: The third tier is J2H and The Entity, the ones I see as the biggest targets. These are the guys that I’m going to take out. The longer they can stay in the Penalty Box, the better, even if I have to duct tape that door closed. I’m going to do everything in my power to eliminate them from the competition, or else I know they’ll just eliminate me.

~After a moment, Vaughn puts all his fingers down… leaving only a thumbs up.~

Peter Vaughn: And finally, there’s me, the Internet Champion… and the soon-to-be Golden Briefcase holder. If these guys aren’t coming into this match seeing me as the most dangerous foe, well, they’re fools. Damned fools. And I’m going to make them pay for any poor conceived notions of me, as I walk away victorious. Bring them all on. It’s time The Mechanic proves that he belongs on the top tier, now and forever.

~With that, Vaughn drops the thumb, clenching into a fist. He smiles, then swings right at the camera lens. The cameraman, startled, falls backwards to the ground. Vaughn appears over him, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Too much?

~As Vaughn stares downwards, the image fades out.~
 

6
Supercard Archives / In Sickness And In Health P2
« on: June 07, 2024, 11:42:22 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up on the hospital here in Oahu, Hawaii, as we see our faithful cameraman making his way off the elevator, looking around in either direction. He takes a few steps in, thinking it over, before deciding to make his way towards the help desk on this floor. He makes sure to adjust his camera, keeping it out of sight, as he talks to the receptionist.~

Cameraman: Excuse me. I'm looking for the room of Sadie Anderson? I heard she's on this floor, but they didn't mention a room number to me.

~The lady puts on a fake smile and nods to him, before punching up the information on her computer. She then hands him a card, presumably with the room number on it, pointing for him to head to the right down the hall. The receptionist then goes right back to work, turning away from him, all while not saying a word.~

Cameraman: Uh... thank you.

~The cameraman turns and goes that direction, glancing in a few of the rooms. In one, he sees that they're cleaning the room out, with one nurse removing the sheets from the bed while another is putting personal effects into a box. Sitting near the exit to the room is a flower arrangement made up of yellow hibiscus. The cameraman checks the nurses again, before grabbing the flowers and taking them with him.~

Cameraman: Waste not, want not.

~He maneuvers down the hall, finding the open door of Sadie Anderson's hospital room. He looks inside, making sure to get a full view of the room with his camera shot. Instantly, he knows that only one person is inside. Sadie is asleep on the bed, still recovering from the collapse she had recently. The cameraman doesn't want to disturb her, knowing she needs her rest. So he sets the flowers on the table near her, then turns and leaves, looking around. A doctor is walking along the hall, glancing at the cameraman, then doing a double take. The cameraman quickly steps forward towards him, putting on his own smile.~

Cameraman: Hello! Ummm... are you the doctor who has been treating Ms. Anderson?

Doctor: Yes. I'm afraid she really doesn't need to be disturbed by the press at this time.

Cameraman: The... press? Oh, you mean this...

~He shakes the camera for a second and laughs.~

Cameraman: No, I'm actually looking for... the gentleman who would be staying with Ms. Anderson. Mr. Peter Vaughn? Have you seen him recently?

Doctor: Oh. Him. Yes, he was here a little while ago. I believe he went downstairs to our open cafeteria to get some air.

Cameraman: Ahh, thank you very much!

Doctor: A'ole pilikia.

Cameraman: Bless you.

~The cameraman walks away from the bemused doctor and heads for the cafeteria. Inside, he turns, checking out some of the local delicacies. But he's got to save that for later, as he spots his prey near the back, sitting alone at a table. Peter Vaughn has a drink in front of him, but it sits untouched, as he is staring off into space. The cameraman moves in front of him, focusing the camera.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn! Hah, I tracked you down again, didn't I?

~Vaughn doesn't seem to react to him. He's still staring downwards, towards his full cup in front of him. The cameraman coughs for a second, as if trying to inspire a reaction, and finally, Vaughn appears to raise his head.~

Cameraman: Hey, uh... oh, let me be the first to congratulate you! I heard the news!

~Vaughn quirks an eyebrow up at the cameraman, blinking for a second, before suddenly smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Thank you, my friend. But I think you're jumping the gun on your congratulations. I know I'm extremely confident in beating Miles Kasey again, but even I'm not calling it a foregone conclusion even before the show. I won't completely disrespect Miles like that. Still, I admire your optimism.

Cameraman: Uh, no, Mr. Vaughn, that's not what I...

Peter Vaughn: I know, a lot of oddsmakers are probably listing our match as the most predictable on the card. But I don't believe that. I can't go into this contest thinking like that. You know, they say you flip a quarter enough times, it'll eventually end up on tails. It's just the law of averages. So maybe this is finally the time where Lady Luck gives Miles a pass. Maybe I slip at just the wrong time, and the ref makes a very aggressive count, and suddenly he's finally on the board against me. I certainly won't help my chances by being too overconfident. So save your congratulations until I've got my hand raised, okay?

~With that, Vaughn picks up his glass and drinks like he's never enjoyed this particular beverage before. The cameraman seems a little stunned, but manages to recover.~

Cameraman: So, ummm... how is Ms. Anderson doing? I went by her room...

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh... thank you for checking in on her. I believe she's recovering quite nicely. She should be released from the hospital tomorrow morning, if everything else clears on her tests. She'll be in the stands to root for me during our match, don't you worry about it.

Cameraman: And her... condition?

Peter Vaughn: Condition? I just told you, boyo...

~Vaughn looks genuinely confused, as the cameraman tries to delicately broach the subject on his mind.~

Cameraman: She's... she's pregnant, right?

Peter Vaughn: Oooohhh, that. Yes. Yes, that's what the results say.

~Vaughn goes back to his drink, finishing it, as the cameraman waits for any other kind of reaction. All he gets is Vaughn standing up, holding onto the cup and looking around for the trash can.~

Peter Vaughn: I probably should get going. Lots to do before the big match, you know!

~With that, Vaughn walks off, leaving the stunned cameraman behind. He's never seen Vaughn in such a state before. A state... of denial. We cut away.~


~The picture comes back up, now showing Vaughn jogging along the road in Oahu. He is sweating from the heat, but seems to be enjoying the exercise as he continues his run. He passes by several people who turn and look his way, recognizing him, but Vaughn doesn't bother to slow down. He's too into the thrill of the run. He checks his watch, noting where he is using the GPS built into it, and then makes a right at the next intersection, heading back towards downtown. This is where the hospital is located... but Vaughn isn't headed there, either, at least not yet. His jog takes him down another street, back to the hotel where many of the Sin City talent is staying for Into The Void. It's only there that he stops, looking startled, as the man in the wheelchair turns towards him. A smile breaks out on Vaughn's face as he heads towards his half-brother.~

Peter Vaughn: Thomas! Why the devil are you here, you goofball??

~Vaughn grabs Thomas Hill's arm, about as close as he comes to an embrace in his family. Thomas returns the handshake, smiling up at his half-brother, glad that he found him.~

Thomas Hill: Hello, my brother. I guess you never got my messages?

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh, if you left them with the hotel, I haven't been here until now. Honestly, I was only coming by because I needed a shower and a change of clothes.

Thomas Hill: Yes, I guess you've mostly been at the hospital. I was going to try there next. Mom told me what had happened, and I decided to catch the first flight out here.

~For a moment, Vaughn looks quizzically at his brother. But he reads right through him, smirking his direction.~

Peter Vaughn: You just felt like you HAD to fly out to Hawaii, huh?

~Thomas laughs, hearing the humor in Vaughn's tone.~

Thomas Hill: Okay, so it didn't take much convincing. I've been needing a vacation, and a chance to hang out here in Oahu? It's hard to resist. But I ALSO came for you, brother. You and Sadie. You're both family, after all.

Peter Vaughn: Well, not yet, but it's getting close...

Thomas Hill: No, trust me, Peter. She's family too. Especially now.

Peter Vaughn: Now? Why now?

Thomas Hill: Because... she's pregnant, isn't she? With your first child?

~Vaughn looks a little annoyed, being reminded of this once again. He rubs at the back of his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Sure. That's what the doctors say.

Thomas Hill: ... What? You don't believe the doctors? You think it's something else?

Peter Vaughn: No. No, the tests are pretty standard, aren't they? And they're all saying the same thing.

Thomas Hill: So... she IS pregnant, then?

Peter Vaughn: She is. I just... don't think it's mine, that's all.

~With that, Vaughn takes a look at his watch, ignoring the shocked expression on Thomas' face.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, I need to go in and start get cleaned up. I'm supposed to be back at the hospital in an hour. We'll get you a hotel room set up, okay?

~Vaughn turns and heads into the hotel, with Thomas looking after him, his mouth open. He shuts it, shaking his head, before heading after his half-brother into the hotel.~


Belief is important in our line of work, Milo.

I think I've made my feelings quite clear about my beliefs about you. I see you as having immense potential, a future Heavyweight Champion if you make the right moves in your career. I see you as a man who is clinging to a sense of morality that's mostly abandoned in the wrestling business right now, feeling like the only way to "win" is to get a completely clean, interference free pin or submission.

In other words, wasting that potential.

But I think your beliefs of me are far more dangerous, Milo. You seem to think that I'm a man who can ONLY win through nefarious means. You have this impression that I apparently believe that you could beat me easily if I didn't resort to 'unclean' tactics. This image that you've built of me in your mind, Milo, is just... wrong. So wrong. I really don't know how you allowed this to fester in your mind like that, really.

I mean, c'mon, Miles. Go back to the first time I beat you. Do you remember? I know it was a while ago, back in February 2023. That seems like forever, doesn't it? So I guess I can't blame you from blocking out the memory of me pinning you after landing the Revenged... completely cleanly. I got that 1-2-3 count on you without any of the tricks you seem to think are the only way I can win.

History kind of refutes that, doesn't it?

And then, what about Summer Xxxtreme XI? We faced off in that Ultimate X match for the Roulette Championship. You can't blame The Troll for any outside interference there. It seems that I won that one pretty much straight up, according to the rules. I got the championship first, while you took that dip into the pool. Clearly, you've tried to forget that, since you still want to believe that there's "no way" I could win like that over you.

Are you starting to get the point, my friend?

So yes. Lately I've been using some... alternate strategies in our competitions against each other. Some definitely disapprove of them, and you're obviously still enraged by these tactics. But I've shown in the past that I don't NEED those tricks to be victorious over you. I've beaten you straight up on multiple occasions. That said, the other times I've won, especially recently? Those count as well, because according to the referee, as you said, they were 'clean' as well.

A win is a win, right?

You just can't get hung up on things like "right" and "wrong", Milo. You know in the Civil War, who thought they were right? Both sides. You know the battles in the two World Wars were fought with pure knowledge that each side was correct, at least how they saw it. You remember when the Kansas City Chiefs and the Philadelphia Eagles played in the Super Bowl? Both believed they should win!

Okay, that last one might be a bad example, because as far as I know, neither team broke any rules. Or they were just very clever about it.

Look, man. I just want this to be our greatest match in our story, Milo. I've already said that I want you to take your game to the next level and show me that you have the willpower to do what must be done. But your inability to see the simple truth that I've beaten you in multiple ways worries me. Denial can be deadly to a wrestling career. Why, before you know it, you might be saying that EVERY wrestler is cheating, and that EVERY wrestler is holding you back.

You might even turn on Helluva Bottom Carter, and NO ONE wants to see that.

So just take this advice from me, Milo. Shake loose from that method of ego protecting and face the facts. I'm definitely good enough to defeat you in a completely clean, fully-reffed match. I've done it before, and I could do it again, if I so chose. But we're facing off in a match where there are no rules. You need to keep that in mind and act accordingly.

Face your fears and use them. Put that energy into your devotion for wrestling.

And do what must be done.

Or else I'm going to do what I always do: win.


~We rejoin the shot inside the hotel room of Sadie Anderson and Peter Vaughn. Of course, Sadie is still at the hospital, leaving this room mostly unused. Right now, Thomas Hill is sitting in his chair, waiting, as he hears Vaughn getting cleaned up in the bathroom. He seems a little on edge, as he's making a phone call at the moment.~

Thomas Hill: I don't know, Mom. I'm going to try to get to the bottom of it, I swear. Yes, yes, I'll be sure to visit Sadie soon too. She's fine, though. Right. I've got to go, it sounds like he's almost done. Okay. Love you too, Mom. Goodbye.

~Thomas hangs up the phone, turning to his side as the bathroom door opens. Vaughn steps out, now dressed in his usual coveralls, which wouldn't have been very easy to do a full summer jog in. He moves to the side, collecting his personal effects to put into his pockets, as Thomas watches him.~

Peter Vaughn: Definitely feels better to be cleaned up again. So, Thomas, did you get anything to eat on the way over here? We can stop and pick something up on the way to the hospital... or the cafeteria is there. It didn't look like the food was too bad there...

Thomas Hill: I'm okay, Peter. I'm not that hungry at the moment.

Peter Vaughn: Alright then. Should we get going to the hospital then? Sadie will be expecting me soon.

~Vaughn steps towards the door, but Thomas maneuvers his wheelchair in front of him. He's really become quite skilled in directing himself around. Vaughn looks at him, puzzled.~

Thomas Hill: Can we take a minute to talk first, Peter?

Peter Vaughn: Ummm... I suppose. Although I really don't want Sadie to worry about where I am. She's got enough on her mind right now.

~Vaughn steps back, waiting, as Thomas watches him closely for a moment.~

Thomas Hill: So I really think we need to talk about the fact that you don't think Sadie is carrying your child.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, come on, do we really need to go over that again?

Thomas Hill: Yes, I think we do. Do you really think Sadie was... unfaithful?

~Vaughn sighs, sitting back on the bed. He shakes his head, but then shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know if I'd call it that. I just know that... it wasn't me.

~Thomas looks deeply confused, as he knows Sadie fairly well at this point. He's seen nothing to make him think there were any problems between the two.~

Thomas Hill: So I have to ask... have you two not been... together? Are you waiting for marriage? Is that what this is all about?

Peter Vaughn: Hah! No, no... we haven't waited. Y'know, I never really expected to find a connection with someone like I have in Sadie. But there have been many, many times... together.

Thomas Hill: So... wouldn't that mean there's a chance that the baby will be yours?

Peter Vaughn: No. There's no chance. Now can we go?

Thomas Hill: No we can't!! We need to talk about this!!

~Vaughn sighs, realizing that his half-brother just isn't going to take his word on this.~

Peter Vaughn: Look... you know who I was back in the day...

Thomas Hill: You don't mean...

Peter Vaughn: Exactly. I was a janitor.

~Thomas can't help but let a short snort of laughter come out, although Vaughn doesn't think to find it so funny.~

Thomas Hill: Sorry. Yes, you were a janitor. So?

Peter Vaughn: So... in my line of work back then, I was exposed to a lot of chemicals. Bad chemicals. Cleaning chemicals.

Thomas Hill: Yeah, you've used Roto Rooter. So what?

Peter Vaughn: So, by being exposed... I've been told I'm infertile.

~Thomas is no longer smiling, as his eyes go wide. Vaughn takes a second before continuing.~

Peter Vaughn: It's never been anything I worried about. I never planned to have a kid. I saw what my dad had to go through. I didn't see any reason to take someone on a similar journey.

Thomas Hill: ... When did you find out this news?

Peter Vaughn: Ummm... it was probably a decade ago. Maybe longer. I lose track. I mean, I've been wrestling for a while now.

Thomas Hill: So you got this diagnosis before you became a pro wrestler? Back when you were poor?

Peter Vaughn: I... suppose so.

Thomas Hill: So it wasn't a great doctor. Probably one of those free clinics that popped up now and again, right?

Peter Vaughn: ... Most likely. I don't really remember.

Thomas Hill: So let me get this straight. You're basing all of your beliefs right now on a quack doctor you visited a long time ago? Isn't there a possibility that things have... changed? I mean, you've been in damn good shape for years, right?

Peter Vaughn: No, but... the test results back then...

~Vaughn looks a little shellshocked, as if he'd never considered any other option. Thomas rolls closer to him.~

Thomas Hill: Look, before you make any more 'certain' determinations, maybe you should get tested by a real doctor? And until then, you should be with your future wife... and the possible future mother of your children.

~With that, Thomas backs himself up, giving Vaughn access to the doorway out of the room. Vaughn slowly nods, seeing the logic in what Thomas is saying. He pats his half-brother on the shoulder, then steps past him, leading the way out. We cut away.~


It can be hard to accept some truths, Milo, even if it's a truth that should benefit us.

Let's talk about another truth that you brought up. You talked about how when I knocked out HB in our tag-team match, I left him in a dangerous situation in Turkey. I can see how you could think that. I'd be the last person to have anything to say about the struggles of the LGTBQ community. But you left out a major element that maybe you don't even see.

I knew you'd be there for HB.

I mean, come on. That was all part of the lesson, wasn't it? To show you that I can use weaknesses against you? But the only reason that would work was that you would rush to HB's side. Obviously, there was no danger there. Maybe I have more faith in your abilities than you do, but I knew you'd do get HB to safety. Just as I knew my actions there would cause you to start to lose control on the next Climax Control.

It's all part of the plan.

The plan to teach you the final lessons that you will need to be up on my level in the wrestling business. The chance for you to begin chasing your own streak, like my holding a dozen World Titles in this business. Now, it won't come right away, obviously. I still intend on winning our little contest and blocking you from your precious Internet Championship. But you still have the opportunity to show me up, to prove to me that you're the better man. But you won't get there by worrying too much about HB, and you won't get there by trying to stay 'pure'.

You'll only get there when you're ready.

Let's go to the final reel, Milo. You know that this is your last opportunity against me. You know that so much is on the line here. So consider this your ultimate moment of self-discovery. What are you willing to do to stop me from taking you down one last time? What extremes are you prepared to use in order to become the Internet Champion again? How precious is this title belt to you? It's up to you to decide that.

I can't do it for you, after all.

I can only point you in the right direction.

I'm only interested in your best, Milo, and I guarantee to you that I'll do the same. I'm going to bring every possible maneuver I've learned into this contest, from the high-flying attacks that I've made my name with, to the technical submissions I've picked up along the way. I'm going to be looking for every advantage that I can use to take the victory, too. That drink the fan is holding in the second row? I'll use it to blind you. That sledgehammer hidden underneath the ring apron I'll use it to fracture your ankle. That person I hired to assault you when you least expect it?

Well, maybe that person doesn't exist. Or maybe he does. You can't really know, can you?

Can you really guess all I'm willing to do when there are absolutely no rules in my way? Hell, for all you know, we're bringing back every Savior from past to present to take a shot at you. You could see Goth, throwing you around the ring. Maybe Ken or Mac make an appearance. Or maybe it'll be from places you'd never expect. I'm good friends with Joe Montuori nowadays, he'd probably be just fine with showing up and throwing a fireball into your face. Or what about Xavier Lux or Alexander Marshall? I could have them waiting in the wings.

Or maybe none of them. But can you possibly risk that, Milo? Shouldn't you have your OWN army on speed dial?

Shouldn't you be prepared for any and all eventualities if you want to be a champion again?

And shouldn't you be willing to pull the trigger on an ambush, even if my guys don't show up?

Although... they definitely MIGHT show up.

They might.

The point is, I'm going to go all-out, Milo, and I really, desperately want you to do the same. I can't stress enough that you'll regret this moment for the rest of your life if you don't follow through, and I don't want that for you. I want you to believe that you did everything you could to come out the winner in our final contest. I don't want you to feel like you left anything on the table.

You've got to do it, Milo. For you. For me. For HB. For everyone.

Don't let us all down.

Or else the Plunge you take will be the least of your concerns for the rest of your life.

I'll see you on Sunday, boyo.


~As the picture returns us once again to the hospital, we see Peter Vaughn and Thomas Hill now around the bedside of Sadie Anderson. She smiles at Peter, holding his hand, before looking over at Thomas.~

Sadie Anderson: You really didn't have to come all this way just for me, Thomas.

Peter Vaughn: No, he didn't, but those frequent flyer miles had to be used sometime, didn't they?

Thomas Hill: I'll have you know that I... didn't JUST use frequent flyer miles...

~All three of them laugh, with Sadie wincing slightly. Vaughn leans over, tightening his grip on her hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Does it still hurt? Do we need to get the doctor again?

Sadie Anderson: No, it doesn't hurt. It's just... a new sensation. I guess I'm going to have to get used to it, aren't I? This is only the beginning.

Peter Vaughn: It's quite the beginning, too, isn't it? Not one we were expecting... but I'm... glad nonetheless. And Sadie... I have something I wanted to ask you.

Thomas Hill: Do I need to leave the room?

Sadie Anderson: Stay, Thomas, please. What is it, Peter?

~Thomas looks a bit concerned, knowing their conversation from earlier is still on his half-brother's mind. But Vaughn has a different question in mind.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you want to get married... this afternoon?

Sadie Anderson: What?

Thomas Hill: What?!!

~Both Sadie and Thomas stare at Vaughn with open mouths, as he simple shrugs his shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: You've been wanting us to get on with it. This seems like as good a time as any. There are a few places that are absolutely stunning near here, where a minister will take care of it for us. We can still have a big ceremony back home, but I... I want to do it now. Here. But only if you feel up to it.

~Sadie stares up at Vaughn for a few more seconds, before suddenly exploding out of the bed and embracing him.~

Sadie Anderson: Of COURSE I'll do it!! Peter!! I love you!!

Peter Vaughn: I love you too, Sadie.

~Vaughn then looks over at the still gobsmacked Thomas.~

Peter Vaughn: Would you be the best man, Thomas?

Thomas Hill: M-me?

Peter Vaughn: Well, I'd rather have a wrestling buddy or two, but since you're the only one available...

~Thomas glares at Vaughn for a moment, before he catches the half-smirk on his face. Thomas then laughs.~

Thomas Hill: I'll be the stand-in. Sure!

Peter Vaughn: Then let's get the doctor to release you, Sadie, so we can get this show on the road! A wedding in Oahu! I just need to make a few calls...

Sadie Anderson: They'd have to strap me down to keep me in here now! I... I'm getting married, Thomas!!

Thomas Hill: You sure are... sister-in-law. Or is that half-sister-in-law? This is getting complicated, hah!

~As Sadie and Thomas continue to talk, Vaughn steps to the side, bringing out his phone. He grins towards them, then steps out of the room. Immediately, his grin fades away, as he waits for the person on the other end to answer.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello? Dr. Fisher? This is Peter Vaughn. I know, it's been a while. Look, when I'm back in town next week... I need to schedule a physical with you. Well... let's just say I need to have something checked in me... to confirm something. Okay, yes, please fit me into the schedule. Yes. Thank you. Dr. Fisher.

~Vaughn hangs up the phone, staring down at it. It's clear that his half-brother's words may not have had the full effect on Vaughn that he thought they did. But Vaughn has always been someone who's practical. No matter what the actual result is of the pregnancy, he knows that he's found some joy in Sadie's presence. He won't let it slip away, just because a child will now be involved. He intends to keep everything that is good for him, after all. He searches for the phone number to the wedding chapel near the beach as we slowly fade away.~


7
Supercard Archives / In Sickness And In Health P1
« on: June 01, 2024, 11:52:29 PM »
~The picture slowly comes up on a long beach, with plenty of couples and individuals hanging out all along it The beaches are popular in Oahu, Hawaii, as many people who just want to get away come here exclusively to bake themselves on the hot sand, then cool off in the ocean waters. The drone comes down lower, but not towards the beachgoers, as it's clearly frowned upon to spy on people in their bathing suits... or less. Instead, the drone heads to the side, where we can see Peter Vaughn standing on his own, checking the time on his watch. He looks less than enthralled with the setting. As the drone settles down into the hands of his cameraman, Vaughn turns towards him, raising an eyebrow.~

Peter Vaughn: They actually flew you out here, huh, friend? I figured they would cut the budget down since we're in Hawaii.

~The camera bobs for a moment, as if unsteady. It was really the switchover, though, from the drone to the handheld camera, which our technician seems to be getting better and better at.~

Cameraman: It's in my contract, Mr. Vaughn. Wherever you are going, I can go there as well. I've been following you all across this world tour, haven't I?

Peter Vaughn: I suppose you have been. Fair enough. Still, I've been here on the island for a few days now, and this is the first I've seen of you. Been out... enjoying the sights? You appear to have a pretty significant tan, bordering on a sunburn.

Cameraman: I, er... was doing other work for SCW. That's all.

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh.

Cameraman: But let's not waste time talking about me. We're here about you, the Sin City Wrestling Internet Champion. How are you feeling after recent events?

Peter Vaughn: You mean Goth & I winning the tag-team match over Milo and HB? Or his overreaction on the next Climax Control?

Cameraman: Both. I'd say both.

~Vaughn laughs to himself, shaking his head as he stares back out at the beach and all of the people wasting their time just laying around.~

Peter Vaughn: Nobody can say that I haven't warned Milo all along the way. I've told him that I would do anything to win, and that he needed to come up with his own solutions to get past me. I've instructed him on what he needs to do to take me down and become a winner again. But Milo is just too stubborn. He won't take that last step. That's how once again I was able to get a victory over him, with perfection, I might add.

Cameraman: While it's true you got the win, Mr. Vaughn, many aren't happy with you using an illegal substance on Helluva Bottom Carter... especially Mr. Kasey.

Peter Vaughn: No, it's clear he felt cheated once again. But how many times can I tell him the outcome before it becomes his fault he lost? At some point, Milo needs to take some responsibility for his own actions, or lack thereof. I can't do everything for him. I can't just let him have the 3 count with no effort whatsoever. That just goes against my nature. He's got to EARN it, and so far, he hasn't come up with the plan to do so.

~A beach bunny walks by in a matching two-piece swimsuit. She gives Vaughn a nice up-and-down look, since he's dressed in normal, everyday clothes, instead of his usual coveralls. Vaughn doesn't even seem to notice her. She'd just be a distraction to him as he talks.~

Peter Vaughn: Maybe our 'final' encounter will finally open his eyes up. I'm glad they've made the stipulation to make this a last chance for Milo. It puts all the pressure on him, knowing that if he comes up short again, I'll be keeping 'his' Internet Title until someone gets lucky against me. He's got to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, wanting to get revenge while also knowing he's out of opportunities. I hope that pressure refines him. I would prefer to face Milo at his absolute best with everything on the line, because then it truly becomes worthy to me to join into the fight.

Cameraman: I thought you always fought hard, no matter who the opponent is.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, I'd say it depends. If it's someone that I can beat hands-down, why should I pull out any major misdirects or trickery? Why make it more interesting? Just pin the man and be done with it. But if I am faced with a direct challenge where anything can happen, forcing me to use everything in my disposal... it just feels better, doesn't it? It feels more worthwhile.

Cameraman: I suppose that's one way of looking at it.

~Vaughn studies the beach and its occupants one more time, bitterly shaking his head, before turning away.~

Peter Vaughn: I have my doubts about what Milo is willing to do. But I'm still excited about our contest either way. If this is to be the end of our feud, then by all means, let it be an epic one here in Hawaii. We can show all of these overweight fools what it truly means to make every second count. When we steal the show for the second time in a row, everyone will have to take note of the greatness of Peter Vaughn... and the fabulous last gasps of Miles Kasey.

~Vaughn turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd. The cameraman moves as if to follow him, then hesitates, turning back towards the beach.~

Cameraman: You know, I've done my job for the day... I might as well make the most of it, right?

~The cameraman heads towards the changing area, shifting the camera around as he turns it off.~


~As we pick up on another, masked feed, we now see Peter Vaughn getting out of some local transportation down the street, handing the driver inside her pay before walking away. He's heading for a large restaurant seemingly built into one of the hills. It's Haleiwa Joe's Haiku Gardens, one of the most famous restaurants on Oahu. Vaughn heads inside, dusting off his clothes uncomfortably. At least this shows why Vaughn is not wearing his coveralls, as he probably would have had more trouble getting into the door. As it is, he gets a few steeled glances as he walks up to the serving area.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, I'm meeting my party here for dinner. Miss Sadie Anderson? She should have gotten here already, I believe.

~The lady checks her board and nods before directing Vaughn to follow her. He heads through the restaurant, a little surprised to not being seated nearby. But soon, he sees why, as they come to one of the window tables overlooking Oahu. There, Sadie is sitting, quietly admiring the view. She turns when she realizes that Vaughn is approaching, getting to her feet.~

Sadie Anderson: You're late.

~Sadie says this in a jesting tone, but Vaughn seems to take it seriously, immediately defending himself.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry, the camera guy found me again and wanted some quotes. I feel duty-bound to give them to him.

Sadie Anderson: You care for him that much that you'd help him out?

Peter Vaughn: Of course not. But if he's replaced, who knows what kind of individual I'd have to deal with next? Better the devil behind a lens you know, right?

~Sadie gives this a laugh, leaning forward to share a kiss with Vaughn. She, out of pretty much everyone on planet Earth, is the only person who seems to truly understand him. It's no wonder that they've been planning to get married. Who else could possibly take on that responsibility? Vaughn steps around to the other side, taking a seat, as Sadie gestures to the plate in front of her.~

Sadie Anderson: I went ahead and ordered us a plate to try. These are black & blue Ahi, a delicacy here.

~Vaughn studies the sashimi style seafood plate, his lip curling to show a bit of disgust. He picks back up the menu, looking it over.~

Peter Vaughn: They cook steaks here, right?

Sadie Anderson: Hah! You need to broaden your horizons whenever possible, Peter Vaughn. This food is delicious, trust me!

Peter Vaughn: I do, Sadie. Of course I do. But with a big match coming up soon, I have to watch what I eat. Nothing destroys a career quicker than having the runs during a PLE match.

~Sadie laughs again, sampling another Ahi, as Vaughn studies the menu. The waiter walks up, clearly having been watching.~

Waiter: Hello, have you had a chance to make up your...

~Vaughn immediately hands the menu back to him.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll take the New York Strip., medium rare.

~The waiter's eyebrow goes up at the order, but he maintains his calm as he turns to Sadie.~

Waiter: And you, miss?

Sadie Anderson: I'll have... the mauka makai. I'm sorry if I mispronounced it...

Waiter: No, miss, you did fine. I'll have your orders to you soon. Thank you!

~The waiter departs, with Sadie pleased with her selection. She looks back at Vaughn, smiling at him.~

Sadie Anderson: Coming thousands of miles to get a New York meal. Typical.

Peter Vaughn: You stick with what works.

Sadie Anderson: I'm getting used to that. I'm just glad I apparently 'work'.

~Vaughn looks at Sadie, surprised.~

Peter Vaughn: You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Sadie. You know that.

~Sadie nods having heard this before. But this time, she seems a little less certain. She leans over the table, holding Vaughn's hand.~

Sadie Anderson: I guess I'm looking for a bit more assurance, Peter. You want me to join you on these trips, but you wander away on your own at times. Every time I've tried to arrange for us to schedule some time off for the wedding, you've had commitments you had to take care of. I know you're a super-busy wrestler, Peter... but at some point, I do need you to put me first, once and for all.

~Vaughn nods, having heard this before. He leans forward, taking hold of Sadie's hand and bringing it close to him.~

Peter Vaughn: You know that there are times, even back at the ranch, where I have to... get away for a while. All from my past... experiences.

Sadie Anderson: I know.

Peter Vaughn: But I always come back to you, don't I? I always seek you out once I'm good again.

Sadie Anderson: I suppose that's one way to look at it. You usually find me at the ranch, after all.

~Vaughn slides himself around, getting closer to Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Who knows if I'd go back to the ranch if you weren't there.

Sadie Anderson: Awww, that IS sweet that you'd tease to give up your business if I was off somewhere else.

Peter Vaughn: Hey, a guy's gotta have priorities. And you're a high one to me, Sadie. You're a high one indeed. I love you.

~Peter leans in closer, ready for another kiss. Sadie goes to meet him... and then suddenly urps in front of him, covering her hand across her mouth. She quickly gets up and runs off, heading straight for the women's bathroom. Vaughn watches her go, a little thrown off. He looks down at the remaining Ahi sitting on the plate.~

Peter Vaughn: This is why you don't experiment.

~Vaughn gets up, smiling, and heads over to the restroom, listening for a moment. He can't hear much, though, so he waits patiently for his fiance to come back out. But time passes, and she doesn't. Confused, Vaughn flags down a female waiter.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me, I think my fiance ate something that didn't agree with her. Can you go in and check to see if she is okay?

Female Waiter: Of course, sir. Let me see. Miss? Are you okay?

~The waiter goes inside... and then, seconds later, lets out a scream, startling Vaughn. He shoves the door open, looking in to find the waiter leaning over Sadie, who appears to be unconscious near the stall.~

Female Waiter: Someone call for an ambulance!

~Stunned, Vaughn leans on the other side of Sadie, checking her head. He holds onto her arm.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie...

~As someone yells that the ambulance is on its way, Vaughn stays with Sadie, looking absolutely lost.~


The world can have a vicious right hook, can't it?

I'm sure you've been feeling it, Milo. You were on your way through the stratosphere, heading for the top of Sin City, when you ran into... me. Your course has been deeply altered since that first interaction, hasn't it? Here we sit, ready to face off against, with my holding four straight victories over you. Some have come in the course of the match, with my athletic ability allowing me to scale the ropes and snatch a championship. Some have come due to my intelligence, turning your own weaknesses against you. But now, you definitely have a heavy weight around your neck, weighing you down.

I guess I'm your albatross. Good to know.

But I haven't given up faith on you yet, Milo. Do you know why that is? Well... I'm not sure myself. I should have already moved on. There are other individuals desperate for their shot at the Internet Championship, after all. The line is long behind you. And yet here we are, facing off one more time. Maybe it's because I want to see you at your absolute peak. What's going to lead to that? The fact that all rules have been thrown out the window. The fact that you will be able to do absolutely anything, and it will be perfectly legal.

You won't be able to cling to that morality this time, Milo.

The fans will know that you have the opportunity to extend your repertoire in this one. It's not about flying sky high or tagging in your partner to save you. It's about you being willing and able to use any weapon that comes into play in our contest. It's about you maybe planning on having your guy HB Carter ambush me in the back before our contest. It's about you having all of those options on the table.

You're welcome, Milo. Please take advantage of my generosity.

I will be extremely disappointed if this match gets arranged this way, with the entire arsenal of the greatest wrestlers available to you, and you try to do things the exact same way you've failed against me numerous times now. How could you let that happen, though? Will your pride and stubbornness drag you down for a fifth time? Or will you FINALLY take it to the next level?

I want you to do this, Milo. Do you understand that? I NEED you to do this.

It's the only way, boyo, for you to take that next step forward. You say to yourself, why would Vaughn want this? Well, Milo, it's my way of giving back to this company after a year and a half of being here. I'm working to build the next generation of talent to take over this place. I'm not going to be here forever, after all. There needs to be a wave of talent like you and Eddie taking things over, continuing the legacy of the 'cheaters'. Without that, wrestling will just get... boring.

You're the one, Milo, that can keep the lineage going. And the best part is, in this match, it won't even be seen as illegal. You can't resist this, Milo. You just can't.

I won't let you.

You're going to take those extra steps, Milo, and you're already on your way by brawling with me on Climax Control. You've shown the willingness to lose control. Now you just need to continue forward onto the logical conclusion: that my way is the right way.

And once you get there, Milo, HB will be so proud of you. You'll have regained a championship and proven to the world that you deserve to be the next fighter for the Heavyweight Championship. You'll have the additional talents that could see you taking down Finn and placing yourself at the pinnacle of success here in Sin City.

Or you'll blow it all, once again, and I'll have to shelve the Milo Project forevermore.

Damn, I hate failing. Don't let me down, Milo.

Don't let me down.


~The ambulance is now at the side of the restaurant, with Sadie being loaded inside of it. She appears to be conscious now, holding her midsection and groaning, as Vaughn stands next to her, holding her hand.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter... I don't know... what's happening...

Peter Vaughn: Just hang in there, Sadie. They're going to take you to experts to get the medicine you need, okay? Stay with me.

Sadie Anderson: I... I didn't... I didn't even get... to the entree....

Peter Vaughn: I'm not sure you would have wanted it anyway. Look, they need to get you going. Just lay back and try and rest on the way to the hospital, okay?

~Sadie can only nod, as they place her into the ambulance. Vaughn starts to follow, but is stopped by the driver.~

Ambulance Driver: I'm sorry, sir, we don't allow ridealongs. Just meet us at the hospital.

~Ashen faced, Vaughn can only watch as the doors shut and the ambulance pulls away, its sirens blaring away as it hits the road. Vaughn watches it go, uncertain, as a man walks up next to him.~

Man: Excuse me, I'm the owner of this restaurant, and I just want to send my deepest sympathies to whatever...

~Hearing this, Vaughn immediately spins, knocking the man down with one punch. He glares at him, standing over him as the man leans away in fear.~

Peter Vaughn: This is all your fault. Your restaurant made her sick.

Man: No, that can't be right, our product is taken straight from the sea and is perfectly prepared...

~Vaughn leans down, threatening to hit the man again, and he quickly stops talking. Vaughn gets closer to him, with a menacingly dark look.~

Peter Vaughn: If she... if something happens to her... I'll be back... and you will pay. Understand?

~The man gives a weak nod, terrified.~

Peter Vaughn: Now... how do I go about getting to the hospital?

Man: Oh, OH, we'll have someone drive you there right away! That's no problem at all!

Peter Vaughn: ... Good.

~Vaughn walks forward, impatiently waiting as the man rushes off to get someone under his employ to take the risk and drive Vaughn to the hospital. Vaughn is shaking his head, feeling a lot of rage threatening to overtake him. He fights it down... for her sake.~


Maybe I'm feeling a little of what you're dealing with, Milo.

Were you enraged after I knocked out HB Carter and won our match? You certainly didn't appear to take it too well. Is that still driving you, I wonder? That rage can be a wonderful addition to your wrestling talents. It can give you the strength of 10 men. It can cause you to refuse to give up, no matter what's happened to knock your brain stems together.

But it can also be a massive hindrance. Take it from someone who knows.

I've been there, Milo. I've had times where I was so furious that I couldn't control myself. I went into those contests with no plans. I just wanted to hurt that individual that enraged me. And you know what usually happened? Well, to be honest, I mostly won anyway. I'm just that damn good. But there were a couple of times where my fury caused me to overlook a critical juncture in the match.

My rage against Jim Caedus allowed Joe Montuori to steal away my WGWF World Championship.

My uncontrollable anger allowed Junko Souma to become the TPW International Champion.

I can look back on those matches now and know where I made my mistakes. I've since fixed the ones that I can. I regained the WGWF World Title after that loss, taking down J-Mont. I can't do much to Junko, since TPW closed afterwards... but I'm still considering options to get that one 'resolved'. Both matches were winnable. Both ended up out of my control, through my own fault.

And now, Milo, you face the same challenge.

I still want you to go all out, Milo, using anything and everything you can find. But I need you to be clear-headed while doing this. You think I just 'happened' to have chloroform on me when we had our tag-team match? No, I was fully prepared beforehand for this eventuality. I clearly knew what I was going to do if the opportunity arose, and there it was, perfectly aligned for me.

I was sure about what I was going to do, because I wasn't angry at you.

I was just focused.

So that's your second lesson, Milo. Be willing to break any ethical rules you find weighing you down... but don't be out of control. Don't be a loose cannon. Because then you completely waste your last opportunity against me, and it'll be a complete disaster, for you, for HB, for everyone who's close to you.

Their shame they feel for you will be all encompassing, and there will be no way for you to finally release that rage. It'll probably ruin your relationship and leave you a sad, wasted piece of trash sitting along the side of the road, unloved and unwanted.

So don't let that happen to you, Milo.

Find the balance. Challenge me the right way. And we'll put on the show stealer to end all show steals.


~We now find ourselves at the hospital, where Vaughn is stalking forward, having left his driver behind. He runs up to the main desk, knowing that this is where to go to get the information he needs.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm here for Sadie Anderson. Which room is she in?

~The nurse takes her time, typing away, with Vaughn's fingernails scratching along the counter as he tries to control himself. Finally, the nurse looks up.~

Nurse - It looks like she's being moved to Room 105. I don't see that she can have visitors yet, though... sir? Sir, wait...

~But Vaughn is already moving, charging around the side and heading towards the room. The nurse seems to consider calling security, but decides to hold back, seeing that this is extremely important to the man. Vaughn turns the corner and rushes to Room 105, quickly barging in to find Sadie laying there in bed, with her doctor talking with her. They both stop as Vaughn hurries up to them.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie? Are you okay?

Sadie Anderson: I'm doing fine now, Peter. Thank you, doctor.

Doctor: I'll let you get some rest. You two have a lot to talk about.

~The doctor leaves, as Vaughn steps closer to Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: So what do we need to do? Did they pump your stomach? I'm ready to sue that restaurant into obliteration if that's what you want me to do...

~Vaughn is seething, with Sadie quickly grabbing his hand to try and calm him down.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter... it's not the restaurant's fault.

Peter Vaughn: It's not? But... you ate their food... and then you threw up...

Sadie Anderson: I did... but there wasn't a connection between them according to the doctor.

Peter Vaughn: He's already run tests? That seems awfully fast.

Sadie Anderson: Well, he had a suspicion, and the test here confirmed it...

~Sadie reaches to her side, grabbing a test sitting on the table. He shows it to Vaughn, who looks at it with deep confusion.~

Peter Vaughn: This... this is a...

Sadie Anderson: That's right, Peter. It's a pregnancy test. And it's come back positive.

~Vaughn looks from the test to Sadie, multiple times, trying to recover.~

Peter Vaughn: You mean... you mean you're...

Sadie Anderson: That's right, Peter. I'm pregnant.

~Vaughn looks absolutely mind blown as Sadie looks at him, waiting for a reaction. We slowly fade out.~


8
Climax Control Archives / Finding Our Weaknesses
« on: May 17, 2024, 07:12:31 PM »
~The picture comes together from above, as we see a long string of collapsing monuments, the only proof that life once thrived in this location. It's the former city known as Troy, including the mound of Hisarlik and the fields around it. It is both a beautiful location and a solemn one, since much death had occurred in and around this site. The drone loses altitude, heading in towards the main hill, where a single man can be seen, standing and taking in the scenery. Peter Vaughn seems to be deep in thought, considering his facial expression doesn't change as the drone gets closer. That doesn't mean, however, he hasn't noticed it.~

Peter Vaughn: So I take it you're close by somewhere, boyo? You want to join me over here, or are you going to continue filming anonymously?

~After a few seconds go by, we see a man step out from behind one of the crumbling walls, carrying his own portable camera. The drone, controlled by him, zooms over his direction. For a moment, the cameraman seems unsure on how to juggle things, but he is able to set down one camera and catch the drone softly in his hands. He puts it away, then picks up the camera again, leading to a few jerky frames of content before everything settles down. He then approaches Vaughn, who is still standing in the same spot.~

Cameraman: How did you know it was me?

Peter Vaughn: You mean, other than the drone getting right in my face?

Cameraman: That could have been anyone, though. A member of the Turkish press, or maybe a fan...

Peter Vaughn: Let's just say I recognized your flying style.

Cameraman: Ahhh, yes, it's very distinctive. You know, I took training to be able to fly the top drones in the world...

Peter Vaughn: Uh-huh...

~The cameraman quiets down, realizing that Vaughn probably doesn't believe him. But hey, you need top-notch training to work at Sin City, so it's not beyond the realm of possibility that he's well-trained. It's just a little hard to believe. Either way, the cameraman moves to the side, making sure not to get too close to the downward plunge of the hill as he films Vaughn.~

Cameraman: So I wanted to see how you were feeling, Mr. Vaughn. I know it was a tough loss on Sunday.

~Vaughn doesn't speak right away, instead bringing his hand up to where he's still got a bandage, courtesy of the assault pre-match from Alexander Raven.~

Peter Vaughn: Yep. I guess you could say things didn't go the way I was hoping for. Once again, I couldn't do everything for my team, and once again... my partner couldn't avoid getting pinned. It's a rather depressing statistic, really. Still, we move on. I kept my championship, which Alexis couldn't take from me. I guarantee I'll be seeing him again... and soon. I always like to make sure and... fulfill expectations, after all.

~With that, Vaughn shakes his head, looking back over the archeological remains of the city of Troy.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, the wars fought here were legendary. Stories are still told to this day about the city of Troy and the Trojan War. Kids probably think it has something to do with condoms, but they'll be educated soon enough to the Iliad and the Odyssey. At least, I hope they do. There are some good lessons to be learned in a place like this, where it was believed that they could never lose... until they lost.

Cameraman: I can't say I know much about it.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, believe me, you know more than you think. I trust you at least have heard of the story of the Trojan Horse?

Cameraman: I've heard of those. I try very hard to keep all of my computer equipment protected from them, as well as other viruses. You know, the SCW IT department gets very upset when you allow them onto your laptops... er, so I've heard..

~Vaughn lowers his head for a moment, as if mustering his strength at what he has to deal with. He then looks over at the younger man nearby.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm talking about the original Trojan Horse, friend. The one that was left outside of the gates of Troy when the Greek army seemed to abandon the war. The Trojans, in celebration, brought the wooden horse inside of their gates. Unfortunately for them, the 'horse' was filled with the best Greek warriors, and they snuck out of the horse at night, opening the gates and letting in the rest of their army. It was a slaughter.

Cameraman: That seems... ridiculous. How big was this horse, exactly?

Peter Vaughn: It was built to look like a sacrifice for the Gods.

Cameraman: Still... how many men could be inside of it? And why wouldn't the Trojans check it?

Peter Vaughn: Because people have weaknesses, boyo. For Achilles, it was his heel. For Hector, it was trust. And for the Trojans, it was arrogance.

Cameraman: I'll say...

Peter Vaughn: We all have weaknesses, friend. Even me. You know what mine is?

~You can hear the cameraman start to say something, but he apparently opts for the smarter course and bites his tongue. He knows Vaughn pretty well after all this time, after all. Vaughn doesn't seem to notice, as he continues forward.~

Peter Vaughn: My weakness appears to be partnership.

Cameraman: Partnership?

Peter Vaughn: You know what my record in Sin City is at this point, after more than a year of competing here? Twenty-one wins, eight losses. That might be one of my highest loss totals in all of the feds I've been in, actually. And you know where half of those losses come from? Tag-team matches where my partner fell short.

~Vaughn shakes his head, as if seeing the losses flash before his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I watched Selena Zdunich get taken down by Courtney Pierce in my first Blast From The Past Tournament. I was too tired after defending the Roulette Title earlier in the night at Summer Xxxtreme to be able to push Kim Page to the Mixed Tag Titles in that Fatal Fourway. Goth & I went against Michael Harris & J2H in a random "throw the opponents together" match, and Goth ended up going down. That one in particular still bothers me. And now, Bobbie lost her belt because she couldn't stop Calaway, and I have yet another loss on my record. Tag-team matches, man. They are my bane. My curse. My kryptonite.

~Vaughn sighs, rubbing at the back of his head. He then glances back at the cameraman, who is keeping a polite (and safe) distance.~

Peter Vaughn: I guess I can't blame Milo for campaigning for this match.

Cameraman: Wh-what? You think Miles Kasey wanted this tag-team contest to be set up?

Peter Vaughn: I'd say it's fairly obvious, for anyone who can see the truth. I have beaten Milo three times now. Twice in the singles ranks, and once in a Triple Threat Ultimate X match, but really, The Troll eliminated himself, what, five seconds in? So really, that should count as a singles contest as well. So I have his number there. But Milo surely sees that my inability to save my partner is my biggest weakness. So therefore, right after I lose yet another tag match, he just HAPPENS to get paired up with his love to face Goth and I? Not to mention, Goth is still recovering from a brutal beating he took from some moronic Entity, and I've got my own wounds still healing. Truthfully.... it's a smart move from Milo. I didn't think he had it in him.

~With that, Vaughn steps away from the hill, walking back over to where one of the decaying walls are still standing. He looks it over, reaching out as if to tap it, but decides against it, knowing it's extremely fragile.~

Peter Vaughn: Maybe Miles is starting to learn how to play the game. It's about time.

Cameraman: I think you're jumping to a bit of a conclusion, Mr. Vaughn. Personally, I think they just booked this match to have a good contest, and seeing the Saviors back in action is worth it, isn't it?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, don't get me wrong. I fully respect Goth and all he's done in the business. The man has been a legend, and I know he's going to give his all as my tag-team partner. Milo & HBC are still in for a hell of a fight, and I still expect our team to come out victorious. But I have to grant Milo his due: he's becoming more devious, which certainly makes him more of a respectable threat.

~The cameraman doesn't know what to say, even as Vaughn looks at the wall in front of him, as if looking for where the perfect punch should go to break straight through it.~

Peter Vaughn: Everyone has a weakness, my friend. Everyone. For Milo, well, I've talked about his weaknesses before. But I must admit, I missed one... because I never talked about how he'd do anything for HBC. Anything to save him.

~With that, Vaughn looks back at the cameraman with a smirk.~

Peter Vaughn: And just like me, that's a weakness Milo can't do anything about.

~Vaughn then walks to the side, kicking a piece of debris out of his way. It hits the edge of the wall, which crumbles and tilts... but still stays up. The cameraman seems to breathe a sigh of relief, before turning and hurrying after Vaughn, wanting to get as far from that place as possible before it falls. We cut away.~


~We now find ourselves in a very different location, even though we have not travelled too far. The city of Canakkale, Turkey, sits along the Dardanelles, a stunning port city with a lot of history behind it. It's the closest place for those preparing to fight at the ruins of Troy to find lodging. This is where we find Peter Vaughn now, dressed comfortably in one of his usual coveralls, while he walks down a city street with his fiancé,  Sadie Anderson. The two make a left turn, heading down to near the water, where we can see a large statue up ahead. It appears to be a man holding what looks like an artillery shell in his arms. The two take in the statue, walking around it.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, there's something you don't see every day.

Sadie Anderson: It says here in my guide that it's a monument for Seyit Ali Cabuk, or Corporal Seyik. Apparently he single-handedly defended the fort here by carrying heavy artillery shells on his own to load the guns, and managed to sink a British ship with them.

Peter Vaughn: My kind of guy... stubborn and tough.

Sadie Anderson: You ever think there will be a statue of you put up one day?

~Vaughn breaks into a genuine laugh, something that you really only hear when he's with Sadie. He has to compose himself after that one.~

Peter Vaughn: Something tells me that as good as I've been, I'll never be statue-worthy. But that's fine. I'll let my record speak for itself.

Sadie Anderson: Well, you never know. Maybe I'll have one commissioned. Would you be wanting to have it where you're holding a wrestler in a headlock?

Peter Vaughn: As long as it's Alexander Raven, sure.

~The two turn, looking out over the waterway, which is busy with commerce coming back and forth across.~

Sadie Anderson: This is a very beautiful place. Thank you for bringing me here.

Peter Vaughn: Thank Sin City. They're paying for the bill for this, which is always nice.

Sadie Anderson: I wonder... would this be a good place to get married, do you think?

~Sadie's eyes show that she's been thinking about this for a while. Vaughn, meanwhile, seems surprised.~

Peter Vaughn: Married here? Under this guy? I mean, don't get me wrong, his story is very impressive... but that would make for some strange wedding photos...

~Sadie smacks Vaughn on the arm playfully, although there's a little hurt hiding behind her eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: That's not what I meant, and you know it, Peter. It's just that... we've been engaged for a while now. But we've never discussed where we want to get married. With your funds and travel experience, we really could choose anywhere across the world... and I'd like for us to start making that choice, Peter.

~Vaughn quietly puts an arm around Sadie's shoulder, still looking out towards the water.~

Peter Vaughn: I know, Sadie. I owe it to you to start getting more details together about our big day. We keep talking about it, and then something else seems to come up, doesn't it? But I haven't forgotten. I still want to marry you, Sadie. You're the only one for me. Literally, no one else can stand me, so...

~Sadie breaks into a laugh, smacking Vaughn again, this time in the chest.~

Sadie Anderson: You know there are plenty of women who would love to swoop in and take you, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I've never seen them, personally. I can't say I've ever been thought of as a ladies' man. For the longest time, I wasn't even sure about it myself.

Sadie Anderson: Well, you're with me now. So how about it? Want to get married in Rome? London? Paris?

Peter Vaughn: I'd have no problems with marrying you on a deserted island. The ceremony isn't what will bring me there, just you.

Sadie Anderson: I know you've said before that you want me to take the reins and run with planning the wedding... but I really want to do it with your help, Peter.

~Vaughn nods, stepping closer to Sadie... as his watch goes off, sounding an alarm. He looks down, checking the time and turning off the sound, as Sadie looks on, a little bemused.~

Sadie Anderson: Saved by the bell again?

Peter Vaughn: What? That didn't even sound like a bell, more like a horn or something...

~Vaughn checks his watch again, as if to look up the sound effect he had set, but Sadie stops him, shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: You've got to go, don't you?

Peter Vaughn: Afraid so. I'm supposed to meet up with Goth and play some cards. Melissa should be there, too. You're welcome to join us, you know, even if we ARE going to be doing two things you hate: playing poker and talking strategy.

Sadie Anderson: Maybe I'll come by later. For now, I want to hit a few of the tourist traps here and buy myself a few things. You give Goth my best, okay?

~Sadie gives Vaughn a kiss, then walks away. Vaughn watches her go, and then looks upwards at the statue above him.~

Peter Vaughn: I really am a lucky son of a gun, aren't I, Corporal Seyit?

~Not surprisingly, the monument doesn't respond. For a few more seconds, Vaughn considers the size of the statue, and what he's carrying.~

Peter Vaughn: I still think I could have taken him.

~With a smirk, Vaughn turns and departs as well, leaving the statue behind.~


You ever consider yourself a hero, Milo?

I know you like to act like the heroes you watched in your youth, emulating some of the great wrestling studs you watched in the UK. As cocky as you can be, I know you like to have the fans on your side in all your matches. You like to hear your name chanted, just not in the way they chant mine. I always seem to have a "Sucks" added on afterwords, or other words more colorful.

The crowd always seems to have a delightful version of the English language at their disposal.

So I know you're wanting to get that praise from them, Milo. I've seen it from HBC as well. You both always seem to want a little bit of approval from the people who pay money to see us. Now, me? I want them to respect me, even if they hate me, because I deserve it. But if they want to hate on me? It's their right. I have no problems being the villain in our little scenario. I mean, what are they going to do, boo Goth? The man's legendary career is coming to an end and he just got assaulted by a masked buffoon.

Nope. I'm going to be getting all the fury directed at me for this one... and I'm going to fully accept being the bad guy.

After all, people are still mad at how our championship bout ended. They're still raging, and I know you still are, too,  Milo. But it's not like I came into our contest hiding my intentions. I told you that I would be willing to do anything to win. I tried to show you the truth, wanting you to assault your opponent after the bell and show you could be ruthless, too. But you wouldn't do it, and you left the door open when you couldn't put me away... and a three count later, your reign ended and mine began.

I may be the villain, but this is no comic book story, Milo... because I won.

So now we'll see if you've begun learning the correct lessons. You already managed to get a match made that could put me at a disadvantage, thanks to Goth's injuries. You made me fight a week after my last contest, while you took it easy watching your brother get his clock cleaned by Aiden Reynolds. But are you leaving the door open to taking more chances during a match? Are you willing to see how far you can take it?

This is your opportunity to leave the hero worshipping behind, Milo, and really become someone great. It doesn't have to be a villain. Just maybe an anti-hero... or a vigilante, perhaps. They're willing to break the law in order to do what is needed. Why do you have to stay Captain America?

Or I guess I should say, Captain Britain? Although I've never liked that guy myself... too uptight.

So if you're the hero, Milo, what does that make you, HBC? I don't picture you as a sidekick, by any means. I've fought you once, and you weren't an easy victory. I mean, I still won, but it wasn't a simple matter of the 1-2-3. At the same time, it's hard to picture you as the triumphant Superman flying into the midst of battle.

Although if Goth gets his hands on you, you really might learn how to fly... if not how to land.

You see, the three of us, truth be told, have very similar styles. We may not be the same in talent level, but we're all willing to do that leap over the top rope if it means destroying our adversaries. But Goth, well, he might occasionally take that risk, but he'd much rather grab you by the head and smash you headfirst into the mat... repeatedly.

Goth has a lot of anger to get rid of at the moment, and you guys have ended up becoming the targets. Congratulations.

Now, I'd rather Goth stay on the sidelines, if I'm being honest. I know he's not 100 percent coming into this. But I know better than to even suggest that to the big man. He would probably want to knock some sense into me for even saying it. And I'd team with a guy like Goth on his worst day, because I know that while he's a Hall of Famer, he still doesn't mind getting his hands dirty from time to time.

He's a Savior. That's in the job description.

So I could easily see Goth locking HBC into the Gothic Dream, taking him to the mat and choking him out as I hold Milo back, forcing him to watch as poor HBC succumbs to oblivion. Would Milo wait for the referee to make the call that HBC is unconscious? I don't think he'd tap willingly on his own, he'd sacrifice everything for Milo... and Milo would do the same, right?

Will we have any white towels handy?

If you're really stuck with being the hero in this scenario, Milo, you may have no choice in the matter but to save HBC from himself... and protect those brain cells that keep him going from losing oxygen. In this case, only you could be the hero that the guy needs, Milo. You could save him.

Even Superman has had to quit under the right circumstances. I'm sure Captain Britain has to.

Even if he sucks.


~The car that we're shown begins to sputter, as it begins weaving towards the side of the road. Thankfully, it makes it there, out of traffic, before the smoke begins to pour from the front hood. The driver steps out, looking stunned, as he goes around to pop the hood and take a look. The back door opens as well, with Peter Vaughn stepping out in frustration.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn. Really? This is actually happening?

~The Turkish driver says something in his language, which can be interpreted by anyone who knows it. We here just don't have the funds to cover extra stuff like this. Vaughn, who can't speak it either, just pulls his bag out of the car.~

Peter Vaughn: You ever hear of coolant? That might have been helpful for you here, considering how hot it is. Damn it. That's what I get for trying to use Uber in Turkey.

~With a sigh, Vaughn just walks off, ignoring the shouts behind him from the driver, who probably has already called Triple A... or whatever it's equivalent is in Turkey. Vaughn doesn't care. He's got places to be. He breaks into a jog, carrying his bag on his shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: Looks like some unexpected training!

~Vaughn's pace quickens again, and now he's running hard, the slight smile on his face showing that no matter how his personality is, he still enjoys the burst of adrenaline he gets from challenging himself. He also apparently has a good sense of direction, as soon the hotel he's headed for comes into view. Of course, it also shows he wasn't that far away from it, which might be the reason he decided to run rather than wait for another ride. Still, he's later than expected as he comes into the hotel.~

Peter Vaughn: I hate being late. But not much I can do about it now. Where did they say to go? The third floor? Or was it the second? Hmmm.

~Vaughn makes a choice, heading up the stairs to the third floor. He gets through the door, looking around, as he hears the elevator door ding.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh. Maybe I should have just used that.

~The door opens, and a waiter comes out, pushing a tray of food in front of him. Even with the lids closed, Vaughn can smell what's been prepared. He smiles.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me, is this for the Goth room?

~The waiter looks confused at Vaughn for a moment, but it's less of a language barrier and more of a 'phrasing' barrier. After a moment, he gets it.~

Waiter: Evet. It is for a Goth.

~Vaughn nods, studying the tray, and the tablecloth across it. He smiles as he pulls out his wallet.~

Peter Vaughn: Then have I got a deal for you...

~As Vaughn and the waiter continue to talk, we cut away.~


I really don't want to give HBC a raw deal.

By that, I mean I don't want to really portray him as the weak link in this tag-team match, even though I know many might think that way. I mean, sure, Milo's had a lot more success with championships. But as little success as HBC has had in title matches, he's still no slouch. You don't get to 16 wins in Sin City simply by showing up on time.

Hell, HBC has a win over Michael Harris, something I can't claim.

He also probably has the best name in Sin City. Seriously, even with "The Mechanic" added, my name is admittedly fairly generic. Miles Kasey? Sounds like a post office delivery man. Neither of our names really sound out of the ordinary. Then you have Goth, who has turned that nickname into a full-on warning of what's to come when you're facing him. But even that doesn't compare to Helluva... Bottom... Carter.

I'm sticking with calling you HBC just out of respect, but still, props on the name, once again. It serves a dual purpose of bragging about yourself, while also possibly making your unaware opponents come into the contest expecting an easy win. Many of those wins you've gotten has been due to your opponent's miscalculation, and I'm all for using whatever you've got to win.

That's basically my motto when it comes to pro wrestling.

So I'm not going to take you too lightly, HBC. I know you can be a threat. I know that underestimating you will lead to nothing but trouble. With all that said, I'm sorry, but pairing you next to Milo is a tough comparison. He and I are like two sides of a coin, having won the same championships here in SCW. We're ying and yang at this point. He could be my evil twin, not that he would ever admit to it. So obviously, people are going to compare the two of us in this competition, and that pairs you across the ring from the legendary Goth.

I mean, he has about as many wins in Sin City as we three do, COMBINED. How do you top that?

I don't think anyone has "HBC beats Goth" on their bingo card this year. Now, yes, you proved that you can have a miracle or two up your sleeve... but I'm curious to see what luck you've got left after Harris, and, y'know, after Milo. Because I'm afraid the odds are stacked against you, bro. You're going to be the main target for our team, and this time, I don't have to get out of the ring if Milo tags out. I can keep right on punching away, and that's what I plan to do.

You will be astounded by the double-teams that Goth and I have worked out together. They will be the maneuvers that you usually only see from Tag-Team Champions. Hell, Goth and I would try for those together, except, of course, it's Mixed Teams only, and neither of us can pull off a dress.

Plus he's retiring, so this may be my last chance to team with him. I want to make sure that this one comes with a victory. That means throttling the two of you.

Really, HBC, you did end up with a bad deal... by this match being signed. I guess Milo has a lot of faith in you, pushing for this fight. Surprisingly, I do, too. But I don't think it's going to matter.

One of you is going to the realm of the Gothic Dream. The other one might be taking the Plunge. I guess we'll see how it ends up, won't we?

Deal the cards and let's begin.


~We find ourselves inside the room of Goth and Melissa, where the two are patiently waiting for Goth's tag-team partner to arrive. There's a knock at the door.~

Goth: Finally.

~Melissa goes to the door and talks to the waiter there. She nods to him as he brings the room service cart into the room, placing it nearby. Melissa thanks him and gives him a tip, with the man quickly getting out of there.~

Melissa: Did that guy seem nervous to you, Gerrit?

Goth: You're too beautiful, Mel. Every man should feel goosebumps when around you.

~Melissa smiles as she pats Goth on the shoulder and walks past him.~

Melissa: Where do you think Peter is?

Goth: He might have gotten lost. I'll call him.

~As Goth gets out his phone, he fails to notice the room service cart moving behind him. Slowly, Peter Vaughn raises up behind it, smirking at the unsuspecting Goth.~

Goth: I guess his phone is off...

~As Goth turns towards Vaughn, he gives out a battle-cry, jumping upwards.~

Peter Vaughn: URRAAAHHH!!!!

~Goth doesn't break down or fall backwards. Instead, he reflexively swings, the punch barely missing Vaughn as he matrixes out of the way, leaning back as far as he can. Goth stumbles, then finally realizes who it is.~

Peter Vaughn: Hah! You should have seen your face!!

Goth: Peter!!!

~for a moment, Goth looks mad. But he can't help but laugh as well, as the two partners do a fist bump. Melissa, in the background, is just shaking her head.~

Goth: That was sneaky, Pete.

Peter Vaughn: I've been called that nickname before. What can I say? It's what I'm good at. And it worked for the Greek. Now let's sit down, play some cards, eat some food, and talk about how we're taking Milo & HBC down.

~With that, Vaughn works to get the cart over near the table, where a deck of cards is already waiting. His tag-team partner joins him, as they begin to prepare for another Climax Control war. We fade out.~


9
Climax Control Archives / The Raven Tournament Continues...
« on: May 10, 2024, 05:31:55 PM »
~As the shot slowly comes up, we can see the bright near-summer sun shining in the blue sky. The camera begins to lower downwards, leaving the scorching sun to show us what appears to be an old-time Western scene. Two men are walking away from each other on a dusty street, eventually reaching the required paces and turning to face each other. One is wearing a white cowboy hat and what appears to be a sheriff's badge. The other is in all black, his hand drifting over to his side.~

Sheriff: We've had far too much trouble from you for too long. Your days of law-breaking and causing havoc are over!

~The man in black raises his head, allowing us to see his face as he continues to keep his hand at his side.~

Peter Vaughn: Some things never end, Sheriff.

~The sheriff prepares himself, taking a deep breath. Between them, a tumbleweed drifts across the road, bouncing to the other side.~

Sheriff: I won't let an evil man like you destroy my town, Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: You act as if you have a choice, Sheriff. You also act like this is YOUR town. It's all mine, Sheriff. But you're right about one thing: I am an evil man. Goodbye.

~Vaughn draws his pistol, with the sheriff reacting at the same time. Both men point and fire, the shots echoing throughout the street. The sheriff staggers back, holding his arm, dropping his gun to the ground. But it's Vaughn that falls backwards, lying flat in the middle of the street. The crowd gathered to the side gives a loud cheer, celebrating the demise of the 'villain'. The sheriff nods to them, retrieving his gun, and then walks over to Vaughn's prone body.~

Sheriff: Time to take your bows, boss.

~After a moment, Vaughn sighs, then pushes himself off the ground, standing up next to the 'sheriff'. The two men give short bows to the crowd, with the sheriff going over to talk to the crowd. Vaughn, meanwhile, walks away, to where Sadie Anderson, his fiancé, is waiting. She gives him a mock applause of her own.~

Sadie Anderson: You died very well there, sweetheart.

Peter Vaughn: I really wish Trent would let me stay 'dead' a little longer, though. It spoils the illusion to get up so quick.

Sadie Anderson: I think Trent just wants to get it over with. But you're a natural. You should really consider those acting proposals you keep getting in the mail.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, all they want is for me to be the sinister villain, and usually the most disgusting one they can find. I mean, really, they have all the characters of the X-Men, and they offer me a rebooted Toad? That's just insulting. I could pull off Mimic if they let me, it'd be awesome, having all of those powers at once.

Sadie Anderson: Well, who knows, maybe something else will come in. At least we're making people happy here today.

~Vaughn shakes his head, stepping further to the side and making sure none of the crowd is too close to them before continuing.~

Peter Vaughn: I still don't get why we're doing this. I mean, are we really getting much from turning my ranch into a western for a day?

Sadie Anderson: Trust me, Peter, we need the positive news stories right now. After the lawsuit that nearly cost us the PMV Ranch and the destruction that burned down two of our barns, it was a blessing to get offered this opportunity. The people of Dallas need to see you as more of a benevolent ranch owner, so that they'll support us in the future.

Peter Vaughn: I don't know if my being the villain getting shot is going to help with that reputation.

Sadie Anderson: They DID offer for you to be the sheriff.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, I look terrible in white.

~Sadie laughs, before dusting Vaughn off. She smiles at him, tipping his cowboy hat back so she can lean in and give him a kiss.~

Sadie Anderson: To me, you'll always be my Sheriff, Peter.

~Sadie then walks off, as Vaughn removes his hat, scratching at his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm not even sure what that means...

Cameraman: Hola, Mr. Vaughn!

~Vaughn turns, hearing the shout of his faithful cameraman. It's a little bit of an "Inception" effect, seeing the cameraman on camera, approaching with his camera, but we soon get through it, as the shot shifts from whatever was shooting previously (a drone, perhaps?) to the cameraman's angle. He focuses on Vaughn, making sure to get a good shot as Vaughn places a slightly fake smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello there. You enjoying yourself there... partner?

Cameraman: I guess. Your guy over there is charging too much for the burgers, though. And why burgers? Why not something more Western-themed?

Peter Vaughn: Everything cost more nowadays, not sure what else I can tell you. Plus, who doesn't love a good burger from a ranch?

Cameraman: Wait... are they from one of your... cows?

~The cameraman sounds a little concerned, as he turns the camera over to show further down the street... where it appears some of Vaughn's cattle has been brought in to be a sort of 'petting zoo' for Dallas youngsters. But Vaughn just laughs it off, as the camera comes back to face him.~

Peter Vaughn: Would it matter either way? You know where they come from, after all. Unless it's an "Impossible Burger" or something, it involved cattle at some point.

~It's a truth a lot of people try to avoid in their minds, and the cameraman is no exception. He clears his throat, opting to change the subject instead of continuing to talk about it.~

Cameraman: So how are you feeling this week, after getting yet another victory over Matthew "The Raven" Knox in the SCW Blast From The Past Tournament?

~Vaughn's smile fades somewhat, as he remembers how the match went down two weeks ago.~

Peter Vaughn: If I'm honest... it really wasn't that satisfying. Knox and I have had some great battles in the past, and I know when he's fully invested in the war. This time, it felt clear that he wasn't in the right state of mind. As pleasurable as it is getting a clean pinfall on him, I didn't feel like celebrating that much afterwards. It's like thinking you're going to play Michael Jordan and you end up facing Michael Vick instead.

~The camera shakes for a second, probably due to the cameraman's confusion.~

Cameraman: I think you mixed up a couple of sports there, Mr. Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: Exactly.

Cameraman: But... I.... well, okay. So you at least made it to the Quarterfinals of the tournament with Bobbie Dahl. That's a step up from last year, wasn't it?

Peter Vaughn: True. Of course, it also means that now Bobbie and I have to defend our championships in the tournament. But we knew that was coming, as it's part of the risk of wanting to win it all. I just wish the higher-ups weren't against us.

Cameraman: Against you? What are you talking about?

Peter Vaughn: Come on, man. Don't let yourself be blinded. Do you really think that Knox was randomly chosen as my opponent, after signing up specifically to face me? And then you really believe that the team that was 'randomly' put together two years in a row, the "favorites" of the tournament going in, just happened to get selected as our opponents in the next round? And it involving another Raven, to boot? I don't think so. This is a ratings maneuver, pure and simple, which is really a shame. We would have made a great Final pairing.

Cameraman: I'm pretty sure it was a random draw, Mr. Vaughn.

~Vaughn just shakes his head as if saying to himself, "You poor little sheep". He then steps to the side, leaning his back against the post of the building behind him.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, it doesn't matter either way. Bobbie and I were put together as a dream team, so we're going to have to take down every squad in our path to make it to the end anyway. I have plenty of experience defeating Ravens, so I don't mind taking that trip one more time. I'm sure Bobbie has no qualms about smacking down Callaway as well, proving once and for all that WE should be considered the true favorites of this tournament. This is ours to win, and we're not going to let this opportunity get away from us.

~He looks down at his waist, as if picturing the Internet Championship belt sitting there. Of course, he wouldn't wear it to an event like this... well, more accurately, Sadie wouldn't LET him wear it to an event like this.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say this. I'm glad it's someone like Alexander competing for my belt. I faced a lot of unworthy challengers when I continued my epic Roulette Title reign, and I was hopeful that it wouldn't be the same in the Internet Division. Clearly, it's not going to be, as only the best of the best will be moving forward throughout the tournament. And I thrive on competition. It makes me a stronger wrestler. It makes me  more dangerous wrestler. It makes me... a little more of a devious wrestler. There's something about having to put out all the stops against the top competition, isn't there? Well, I guess you wouldn't know, would you?

~Vaughn glances at the cameraman, who says nothing, although he probably didn't appreciate the comment. Vaughn takes no notice, though, as he's returned his view to the street... focusing on a man walking away from him. The man is adjusting a white cowboy hat on his head, making sure it's not going to fly off in the Texas wind. Vaughn watches him go, his eyes narrowing, before he turns back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, my friend, it looks like I should probably get back to work. Sadie's going to have her hands full with a bunch of junior high kids bussing in for the event. I suppose I should definitely help her out.

~The cameraman nods, which we can see in the image, and Vaughn hurries off... heading away from where the man earlier came from. The cameraman follows Vaughn for a second, as if puzzled.~

Cameraman: But, uh, Mr. Vaughn... the parking lot's the other way! Mr. Vaughn?

~Vaughn doesn't stop, heading off, as the cameraman confusedly waits there. He starts mumbling to himself.~

Cameraman: I do TOO know the thrill of competition... every Thursday at Trivia Night. It's intense...

~Having bolstered his own confidence, the cameraman heads off, shutting down his feed.~


So let's talk about details.

You and I, Alexander, have faced in a singles match exactly one time, I believe. Yes, we also fought in a cluster of a match at Summer Xxxtreme XI, but considering neither of our teams came out ahead in that one, I think it's best just to focus on that singles contest. It's an interesting one, no doubt, as you were the #1 Contender to the Sin City Heavyweight Title at the time, and you thought you could use me as an example to make J2H quiver in his boots.

It didn't work that quite that way, did it?

No, you took your eyes off the ball. You decided to have a little stare-down with J2H. It was a fatal mistake. One Keyholder later, and I added another Raven to my List of the Vanquished. And I'm sure you said to yourself that the win didn't matter, because you were distracted. It didn't matter, because you still got to move forward and lose to J2H at December 2 Dismember. It didn't matter, because you moved on.

But it mattered to me, Lex.

You see, my defeating of the #1 Contender to the Heavyweight Title should have been a monumental moment. It should have been the boost that put me into the main event, possibly making it a Triple Threat. But instead, it became me getting placed in a match with J2H with less than a week to prepare. And did you return the favor? Did you come down to distract J2H, trying to get under his skin like he did yours? No. You stayed away. You cowered in the back, and I ended up taking a clean loss to J2H.

I'm still bitter about it.

Not about the loss, because that night, J2H was the better man. No, I'm bitter because I was focused on leaving the Roulette Division behind and jumping into the Heavyweight battles. I was ready to launch myself into the stratosphere and go for another World Championship. But my confidence admittedly got shaken by that loss, sending me in a mild tailspin. I lost to J2H. I dropped the Roulette Title after 288 days. I even lost to Finn Whalen in the tournament, taking another hit to my confidence.

And I truly believe that none of that would have happened if you hadn't pulled me into your little head games with J2H.

But as you can see, Lexi, I've recovered. I'm now the Internet Champion, having taken down poor Milo to claim his gold. I've gotten myself respectable again. I found a great tag-team partner in Bobbie Dahl, with the two of us primed to make a run the likes of which nobody has ever seen before. I've restored myself to glory, even if to do that, I had to drop down one division for the rebuild. But that's fine. I didn't fall back into the depths of Roulette. I moved forward. I bettered myself.

But what have you done, Alex?

Have you recovered at all since losing to J2H, just like I did?

Let's look at the tapes and see.

Well, you lost in the first round of the tournament to Goth, getting knocked out earlier than I did. You lost the Blood Bath Brawl to Ben Jordan at My Bloody Valentine. Then after making a big deal out of your battles with Jordan, trying to act like a conspiracy bully, you got your ass beat by him yet again. Really, your only notable wins as of late involved your tag-team partner saving your bacon and getting the pinfalls. Honestly, Alexis, I'm not seeing many signs of a rebound here. I think the PTSD of losing to J2H is still haunting you.

Which I can understand. Losing to him stings.

But you can't just force your tag-team partner to do all your fighting for you, Raven. You have to take some responsibility for the fighting ahead of you. I've done that, by pinning Knox's shoulders to the mat in the first round. But you, you couldn't even keep your hands tight on Jamie Dean, letting him slip away from you after he nearly got the pin. Really, Jamie should have stayed in there. Maybe his team could have won.

After all, it's pretty clear that you're the weak link on the team, Alex.

That's why I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you in there. I'm going to hit you with everything I've got, and try every fast pin I can manage, because I want to make sure that we take full advantage of your weaknesses. I want you to have to apologize to Calloway afterwards, saying that you should have never tagged yourself in.

You're the key to our victory, Raven.

Because until you can finally put December 2 Dismember out of your head and move forward in life, like I have... you're just going to continue to fail. And I plan on enjoying the fact that I'll be making that happen.


~As we return to the ranch, aka the 'western town' today, we see Sadie Anderson making her way down the street. She's looking in both directions, searching for someone, and it's pretty easy to guess who she's looking for. After a few moments, she pulls out her radio and makes a call to the rest of the staff.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello, this is Sadie. Has anyone seen Peter? Or Trent? The kids are here, and I've got them doing some quick arts & crafts in the cafeteria, but I'd really like to set up the next show.

~Sadie clicks off the radio, although she did the cardinal sin of not saying "Over". Then again, not too many people worry about that nowadays, and neither do the staff.~

Man's Voice: I saw Trent near the parking lot smoking earlier. He was talking with this big guy in a suit. But I haven't seen him since.

Woman's Voice: Mr. Vaughn probably went for a beer at the little 'tavern' we set up.

Man's Voice: No, this is Cliff. I'm there now, and there's no sign of Mr. Vaughn here.

~Sadie shakes her head, looking a little concerned.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, everyone keep an eye out for them, okay? They have to be around here somewhere. I'm going to head back to the kids before they start to get out of control. Maybe they'll appreciate doing some calf roping...

~With that, Sadie connects the radio back to her belt, walking off as we hear a few more people say okay. She moves back up the street, slipping into the main building of the ranch hands, where the small cafeteria is located. She half-expects to see a food fight going on, but all of the children are sitting quietly to the side, listening to the man telling the story in front of them.~

Peter Vaughn: ... And then the hero rose up, managing to survive all of the evil plans that had been thrown against him. He climbed his way to the top of the ladder... and he claimed his prize.

Girl: A princess???

~All of the girls' eyes are lighting up, while most of the boys are less enthused. Vaughn thinks about it for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: Well... let's just say something as precious as a princess, okay, dear? Oh, and speaking of a princess, hey, Sadie.

~Vaughn waves Sadie over, and she steps forward, very confused now.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter... what are you doing?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, you know, I'm just keeping these children occupied. Class, are we having a good time?

~There's a standard cheer you always hear from classes at events like this. Vaughn chooses to take the cheer at face value.~

Peter Vaughn: That's great, guys and gals. Hey, it's about that time, isn't it, Sadie? Time for the shootout?

~This gets the attention of many in the class, both boys and girls, as the majority want to see something exciting. Sadie clears her throat.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, uh, yes, it's around that time... but Peter, I...

Peter Vaughn: Shall we head out to the street, gang? Don't forget what I told you, okay? Be ready! Let's go!

~The kids cheer and head out, moving past Sadie, with a few teachers carefully moving in the background to stay with them. Vaughn watches them go, smiling, as Sadie steps up next to him.~

Sadie Anderson: Okay, Peter, we've got you, but I haven't been able to find Trent. I don't know if we can still stage the shootout again.

Peter Vaughn: Don't worry about Trent. He's in the medic's tent.

Sadie Anderson: The... the medic's tent?!?!

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, but he's okay. Anyway, let's go. I can't wait to see what happens at the shootout.

~Vaughn gets up, heading for the door, as Sadie takes a moment to pull on her hair for a moment, clearly stressed, before following after him. She may have no idea what Vaughn is up to, or what's going on... but she trusts him to find a way out of whatever's happening.~


Sometimes you just have to trust your partners.

I've had trouble with that in the past, I'll admit it. There's a reason I haven't had a great deal of success in the tag-team ranks. I've had to come to grips with the fact that I take some blame in that regard. But I'm working on it. I made 2024 the year of the tag, and I've had several victories in different feds, proving that it can be done.

Overall, though, I have to say I'm most confident now in having Bobbie Dahl as my partner.

Why, you may ask? Well, I think much of it should be fairly obvious. She's an SCW veteran now, set to go for her 30th victory this week in the fed. She's doing much like I did with my championship, as she's held the Bombshell Roulette Title since December 2023... when she defeated Alexandra Calaway for the belt at December 2 Dismember. The same PPV where you had your own disappointing loss, Raven.

From what I've seen lately, Bobbie's had Callaway's number.

In fact, wasn't it Bobbie's team who knocked you two out last year in the Blast From The Past Tournament? Wow, what a coincidence, right? Her partner then was Jack Washington, a man who I've taken down a few times now. Ergo, I'm an improvement over ol' Jack, which makes our team even more superior.

The odds just aren't in your guys' favor, are they?

But they sure were in mine when they randomly made Bobbie my tag-team partner. I guess, maybe that part WASN'T a conspiracy, huh?

Let's face it, Xander. Bobbie could easily handle her side of the match. In fact, I could probably let her take on Calaway like it was a singles match, and she'd most likely come out on top, even though I know it would be an extremely tough fight. I trust that she'd be able to complete that victory, knocking Calaway cold like she did when she won the title in the first place.

But I still see you as the easier path to victory.

I think it would take only a few near falls for you to start doubting yourself, losing that confidence that you claim to have in this tag-team. You'll let that uncertainty creep into your subconscious, lengthening your reaction, and then, when you least expect it... the Keyholder will fall. Maybe you feel the taste of Revenged... or you take the Plunge. Or, hell, maybe I just get you in a crucifix pin and hold you down long enough for the 3 count, just before your partner can get there to make the diving save.

I'm not pushy about how the victory happens, after all.

All that really matters, Raven, is that I make sure your team loses, knocking you from the tournament, preserving our championships... and sending us to the semi-finals. Will there be stronger teams ahead? Most likely. Will they be able to stop Dahl-Vaughn? Not a chance. The champs are going to continue to steamroll everyone like they're extras in an Austin Powers movie.

And for the second year in a row, you're going to just have to look Calaway in the eyes and say "I'm sorry. I wasn't good enough".

We'll have to see if she still trusts you after that, Alex.


~As we return to the scene, Vaughn has made his way out onto the street. He checks his pistol, turning it back and forth, before putting it back into his holster. Sadie is watching from the sidelines, knowing the kids are excited to see what happens. She looks back to the left, relieved at first to see a cowboy wearing a white hat walking forward. After a few moments, though, she squints in that direction, trying to see him clearer.~

Sadie Anderson: Hold on... that's not Trent!

~She quickly gets on the radio, moving to the side away from the kids.~

Sadie Anderson: Does anyone know who that guy is across from Peter? I don't recognize him.

~There is a chorus of No's that come through, as nobody seems to know who the man is. He's still playing the part of the Sheriff, though, as his badge can be seen, glinting on his vest.~

"Sheriff": Outlaw! Vaughn! Turn and face me!

~The man has a hand hovering over his pistol, as Vaughn looks his way, seemingly completely confident in everything that's happening.~

Peter Vaughn: If you insist... "Sheriff".

"Sheriff": We've had far too much trouble from you for too long. Your days of law-breaking and causing havoc are over!

~Vaughn raises his head up, still smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Some things never end, Sheriff.

~The man takes a deep breath, steading himself. He's ready to draw his weapon. But Vaughn suddenly goes off-script.~

Peter Vaughn: Have you ever heard the story of the Wild Boar and the Fox, Sheriff?

"Sheriff": I... I don't...

Peter Vaughn: You should look into it. It's a good fable. It's all about... being prepared for your enemies.

~The man crooks his head, then reaches down, grabbing his pistol. But before the 'sheriff' can draw his gun, Vaughn lets out a yell.~

Peter Vaughn: Show him what you built, kids!!

~From both sides, the kids from the school rush forward, cheering. The man looks startled, leaving his gun away in the face of so many youths. They spin around him, quickly showing him that they put together a rope they all put together earlier!!! The man rocks for a second, stunned, but he starts to pull the weak rope apart in order to get free. Before he can manage it, though, he's knocked backwards by a flying Vaughn, who ko's him with a dropkick to the face!! The man is down, with Vaughn quickly wrapping his arms in what remains of the rope. Vaughn then looks around at the kids, smiling at them.~

Peter Vaughn: We did it! Way to go!!

~The kids all cheer, as Vaughn stands up, making sure to pull the man's pistol from him as he does so. The kids are doing a victory dance around the 'sheriff' now. Vaughn leaves them, walking over to Sadie, who still looks lost.~

Sadie Anderson: What was that? WHO was that? What's going on, Peter??

Peter Vaughn: We just had ourselves a little imposter is all, Sadie. He tried to take Trent's place. He should have brought his own hat. I got Trent that hat, it's custom-made. I recognized the symbol on it immediately.

Sadie Anderson: So... you knew that Trent was in trouble?

Peter Vaughn: I found him pretty quickly. He was out in the back of a pick-up. His cigarette was still smoking. So I got him to the medic's tent. I figured the guy was up to something, and I wanted to see what it was.

~Vaughn then shows Sadie the gun, with Sadie's face going pale.~

Sadie Anderson: He... he was going to shoot at you for real??

Peter Vaughn: I thought that was a possibility, but no, these are still blanks. I think he was actually just going to try and make us look bad... maybe by firing wildly at the crowd or something. Whatever it was, the kids and I put a stop to it.

Sadie Anderson: Wait... so you're saying you didn't know if he had live ammunition... and you sent the kids in anyway?

Peter Vaughn: ... You make that sound like a bad thing. Everything worked out, Sadie.

Sadie Anderson: Sometimes, Peter... I just don't know what to say.

Peter Vaughn: Just say that you love me as always. Oh, and say you'll call the police, I want this guy off of my land.

~Vaughn gives her a kiss, then walks off, possibly to go check on Trent. All Sadie can do is stare at the downed man for a moment before pulling out her radio to contact the security monitoring the event. Vaughn, for his part, just looks pleased with himself. He makes sure to scoop up Trent's hat off of the ground, knocking the dust off of it, as he walks away.~


All's well that ends well.

And Climax Control will end exactly how Bobbie and I expect it to go. You're going to falter, Raven, and you're going to watch him fall, Calaway. And after the 1-2-3, I hope you two agree to never partner together again. It should be clear after two consecutive tournaments that it's not worth the effort.

Bobbie and I are winning this tournament. We are taking down every team that stands in our way, from Sean Parker & Luna Pasilno to Mark Cross & Eiley. Even if it's Bobbie's husband, Artie, I won't let our team falter in our quest to lock this tournament down. I'll just let Bobbie beat the hell out of Kallie Reznik and we'll go on from there. We are going to earn the greatest accomplishment of my tag-team career, putting a tremendous trophy in my case. And from there, the eyes will turn towards the top of Sin City.

Because once I accomplish what you never could, Raven, winning the Blast From The Past Tournament, I'm going to continue to show you up... when I become the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Champion.

I hope you'll appreciate the view from where you'll be sitting in the stands.

See you on Sunday, boyo.


10
Climax Control Archives / Never Celebrate Too Early...
« on: April 26, 2024, 09:59:37 PM »
~As the picture comes up, we hear the sound of sizzling, as we slowly are able to see a brown mass, bubbling up grease as it heats up. The camera slowly zooms backwards, to show us several hamburger patties, cooking away on a BBQ grill. Next to them are a group of hot dogs for those who always want a 'choice', although let's face it, grilled hot dogs never compete with grilled burgers. The camera goes back further, as a ranch hand steps in to start flipping the patties, making sure they get nice char lines on them without getting too blackened.~

Ranch Hand: Who still needs a burger? We're about ready here!

~An extremely interested teenager hurries over, probably a family member. He's not going to miss out on more free food. As the teenager is served, the camera pans around, focusing on the celebration that seems to be going on. We see a large banner proclaiming "The PMV Ranch - Now & Forever!" There are some folks dancing off to the side, enjoying the music coming through the outdoor speakers. The camera moves around to the other side, where we see Sadie Anderson looking around with an ecstatic expression. She turns, holding the hand of the man next to her, giving it a squeeze. Peter Vaughn looks at her, sighs, then nods, before getting up, carrying a beer in his other hand. He raises it and gets everyone's attention.

Peter Vaughn: Hello, everyone. Are you guys having a great time?

~There's a general cheer from the group. It tends to be an unwritten rule that ranchers work hard and party harder. Vaughn's a slight exception to that rule, but he's still doing his best to stay in the spirit of the event. He glances back at Sadie, who gives a knowing nod, before he continues.~

Peter Vaughn: I just want to thank you all again for all your hard work over the last few months. I know things looked a little bleak with the lawsuit hovering over us, trying to steal away the PMV Ranch after all of our hard work. I'm glad to say that everything has been officially cleared. We don't have to worry about Judd Harrison trying to make a play for our land anytime soon. From what I hear, he's facing some pretty serious charges regarding judge tampering...

~There are several laughs in the audience. It was through the efforts of several people that the documents were found linking Judd Harrison to Judge Trebur. The implications were obvious to the judge once he saw the paperwork, as he quickly and quietly dismissed the lawsuit that was trying to reclaim the land for its previous owners, the Raymeth family. Suffice to say, it was a very decisive victory for Peter Vaughn and his ranch.~

Peter Vaughn: I know many of you went above and beyond for this ranch. Cliff, you put yourself in harm's way, going undercover at Harrison's ranch...

Cliff Sterling: And I'll be damn happy never to see any of those goons again anytime soon!

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, you got us the connection through the Raymeth son-in-law, Anthony...

Sadie Anderson: Have you gotten him released from jail, yet? I talked to him yesterday, he wasn't sounding too good...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, ummm, I'm still working on that...

~Vaughn coughs for a moment, feeling the gaze from Sadie turn a little icier, before turning away to face everyone else.~

Peter Vaughn: And I know many of you contributed wherever you could. Like you, Mitch. I heard you took it upon yourself to go through the large garbage truck that had been to Harrison's ranch.

~A dusty-looking cowboy nods as the people around him seem to take a subconscious step away from him.~

Peter Vaughn: Sure, you didn't find anything to help us, but I applaud the initiative! That's what I want to see from everyone here at the PMV Ranch! Believe me, actions like that will be rewarded. In fact, this is the perfect time to announce what I've been planning: everyone on the PMV Ranch payroll is going to receive an extra $1,000 bonus on your next paystub!

~This gets a loud eruption of cheers from all of the ranch hands. Only Sadie looks unsettled, mouthing "Bonus??" at Vaughn, but he doesn't see (or pretends not to see) her reaction. He can afford it, after all.~

Peter Vaughn: Anyhow, you guys didn't come to hear me talk. You came to celebrate, and that's just what we're going to do all night!

~This brings on another roaring cheer.~

Peter Vaughn: ... But we'll be working again starting early tomorrow morning, so don't party TOO hard!

~The cheers turn to good-natured boos, as Vaughn smirks at them. He raises his beer.~

Peter Vaughn: To the PMV Ranch, Now & Forever!

~The toast works, with everyone raising their glasses and getting back to a good party atmosphere. Vaughn nods and turns away, walking straight over towards where the camera has been recording.~

Peter Vaughn: Enjoying yourself, friend?

~The camera moves up and down in a nod, as we hear the voice of Vaughn's intrepid cameraman, who's been with him since he came to Sin City Wrestling.~

Cameraman: I'm having a great time, actually. You know that woman over there gave me her number?

~Vaughn glances over where the cameraman indicated.~

Peter Vaughn: You mean Trish? Careful with that one, boyo. She's the one who's been breaking in the horses lately.

~Trish seems to recognize she's being talked about, as she glances over and gives the cameraman a wink. The cameraman seems to shudder for a moment before turning back to Vaughn.~

Cameraman: So how are you feeling, Mr. Vaughn? It must be good to have all your ranch legal issues in the rearview mirror, and on top of that, you won the SCW Internet Championship!

Peter Vaughn: I certainly did. Milo gave me a hell of a fight, and I'll admit, at times I wasn't sure I was going to actually pull it off. But I found a way, like I usually do. It is nice to be holding Sin City gold again.

Cameraman: Are you planning to set another record for holding an SCW championship?

Peter Vaughn: Whoa, my man, chill out. Let me get a defense or two in before we start considering something that grand. Obviously, the talent level is higher in the Internet Division compared to the Roulette. But I have no doubts that I'm going to acquit myself well as the champion over the next few months, continuing my battle upwards towards the top of the rankings.

Cameraman: And you're also starting the Blast From The Past Tournament, aren't you?

~Vaughn's smile fades slightly, as he thinks about the tournament. He slowly nods his head.~

Peter Vaughn: That's correct. Last year, this tournament was the most disappointing moment of my SCW career so far. I drafted a partner that didn't seem to care about the competition, and she was quickly pinned despite my best efforts. This year, though, at least I've got a championship-caliber partner, one who was also successful at Blaze of Glory. I'm certainly in better position than I was this time last year.

~The cameraman's been following Vaughn for almost a year and a half now, and you can't help but pick up on some cues during that time. He recognizes that Vaughn doesn't sound as enthusiastic as he should.~

Cameraman: If I can ask, Mr. Vaughn... I really thought after your speech at the PPV, you'd be coming into this with a little more enthusiasm.

Peter Vaughn: You know me too well, dude. Maybe it's time I get a new camera guy.

~The camera freezes for a moment, before Vaughn smirks over at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Nah, then I'd have to break them in again, wouldn't I? But you're right. I wanted to be extremely excited going into the first round of the tournament with Bobbie as my partner. But then we randomly got selected to face the one guy I wasn't interested in seeing in this tournament: Matthew Knox. You know, I just got through winning a war over him in TPW? He's been added to my List of the Vanquished enough lately. Honestly, he was the one guy I didn't want to see come our way, and yet he found a way to make it happen.

Cameraman: So you think Mr. Knox, what, paid off someone to get this match?

Peter Vaughn: Hell, I don't know. It's a pretty big coincidence, that's all I'll say. But even if it was just bad luck, it's not going to change the result. I'm paired with one of the best female wrestlers in SCW, and between us, Knox is going to once again feel the taste of defeat come his way. He and Kasey Vex may have had some success outside of Sin City, but they don't have it running through their veins like Bobbie and I do now. I have shed blood, sweat, & tears for the last year & a half here in SCW, and that's definitely going to give me the upper hand on ol' Knoxie.

~There's a short yell of Vaughn's name, causing him to turn. Sadie is waving him over, wanting him to talk to the two older gentlemen she's talking with. They're probably prospective clients who were invited to the party. Vaughn sighs, then looks at at the cameraman with a smile.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I've got to get back to making small talk. Not my favorite activity, but it comes with the job description. But you go and have a good time, alright?

Cameraman: Are you, uh, sure I should stick around?

~The camera glances over at Trish, who seems to be dancing with another cowboy at the moment. Vaughn laughs.~

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, man. It's a party. What could possibly go wrong?

~Anyone who's been in this sort of situation knows that you never say something like that, but Vaughn couldn't help himself. Sure enough, a man comes running around the corner, shouting wildly.~

Billy Weaver: Help!! HELP!!

Peter Vaughn: What's going on, Billy? You left the cattle gate open again?

~Vaughn says this in jest, but sobers up quickly when he sees the expression on Billy's face.~

Billy Weaver: There's fire, boss!! Two of them!! Both of the barns are up ablaze!!!

~There are gasps from some in the group, as Vaughn's eyes widen. He runs around the corner of the building, looking off to the west... where we can see black smoke rising up into the sky.~

Peter Vaughn: Everyone get moving! Now!!

~Vaughn signals, and the ranch hands all drop their plates and beers and begin running towards the burning buildings. Vaughn looks back at Sadie, who looks concerned.~

Sadie Anderson: You don't think...

~Vaughn shakes his head, furious.~

Peter Vaughn: Judd... DAMN him!!

~Vaughn then takes off, racing away, as Sadie goes to make a call to the nearby Dallas emergency line. It's unlikely they'll be able to send help in time, but the way wildfires have burned in Texas lately, the earlier notification, the better...~


Sometimes you just can't relax without something else happening.

I mean, look at the current situation in Sin City. I win myself another championship. I'm riding high with the Bombshell Roulette Champion, Bobbie Dahl, getting named as my partner in the tournament. And who steps out of the shadows to try to ruin things once again? The Rickety Raven Matthew Knox. Y'know, Knoxie, something tells me you joined up with this tournament just for the chance to get another shot at me. I really can't understand why.

Some people just like the aggravation, I suppose.

I mean, I've had some persistent enemies wanting to fight me. I've fought Chris Page multiple times. Milo and I keep going at it here in Sin City. But you're the only one who won't let things go, Knucklex. Let's go over some of our recent history, shall we? You attacked me in Thunder Pro Wrestling, wanting to destroy me in 2022. I beat you. Then you returned in 2023, again wanting to take me down from the top spot. I turned El Diablo Blanco against you. We crushed you in a six-man match. My team then annihilated yours at War Games. And sure, you did manage one pin on me through wild circumstances, but I got that victory back at the Denzel Porter Invitational, regaining my International Title.

By my math, that puts me around 5-1 over you in recent years. Course, I know you, Knoxie. You like to claim that "none of those wins counts" and only claim that one win you got as the legitimate one. Personally, I think it's a little cowardly of you not to accept those results, but that's just me. But let's go back to the most important point, which happened at Sin City's Inception VI.

Do you remember that one, Matt? It was at the beginning of 2023, if that helps.

That was the match where you were taking on Mac Bane, Ken Davison, and Jack Washington for the SCW Heavyweight Title. That night, Matt? That was the only time I've come hunting for YOU. You see, Mac and his manager at the time, Chris Page, wanted me there, and I decided that you had been saying so much trash about my title reigns that I would show up and make you pay. I clocked you with that chair, and got to watch as Mac pinned you to win the championship. I fully expected you to go on the warpath like you always do, blaming me for everything.

How could I ever expect you to just... leave?

Sure, we would fight elsewhere. But I never forgot the fact that you decided it wasn't worth it in Sin City with me here. Maybe that's the reason I've stayed here since then. I mean, you're the reason I've been here, Knoxie. I would have never joined Sin City if you hadn't been a part of it. In a way, I guess I owe you for that, as since then, I've broken the record for holding the SCW Roulette Title for the longest time at 288 days, and I've won the SCW Internet Championship as well.

That's two title reigns I wouldn't have had without you.

So... thanks?

But that's not going to change my actions in this tournament, Knux. Because I know what you're up to. You know what my Achilles' heel is: the tag-team division. I have won World Titles all across this planet, but I've never been able to claim a tag-team championship anywhere, no matter who I partner up with. I figure that's the TRUE reason you signed up for this, because you know it increases your odds against me... apparently substantially.

I can't explain it, really. I compete hard in tag-team competition, bringing everything I've got to the table. But my teammates... for some reason, many of them just haven't shown up. And I know what you're going to say: the law of averages says if it keeps happening, it's something on my side, and I can't entirely disagree. But only to an extent, because I'm still one of the greatest wrestlers competing in the world today. I wouldn't have all of these championships if I wasn't.

But tag-teams haven't been in my skill-set... until now.

I've made 2024 the year that I finally make waves in the partners division. I've been competing in more tag-team contests than ever before, honing my craft. And this year, unlike 2023, I have a partner who lives up to my talents. Bobbie Dahl has held the Bombshell Roulette Title since December, and she shows no signs of giving it up anytime soon. She's proven herself to be one of the upcoming stars, and I have no doubt that she'll use this success to propel herself up the Bombshell ladder all the way to the very top.

Hell, I'll probably help her if needed, now that she's my ally.

I've seen Bobbie in action. I've competed on shows with her, getting to see her in action up close and personal. I feel like our Sin City roots are going to give us an extreme edge in the competition. But you, Matthew? What do you know about Kasey Vex? Have you guys ever been in the same federation together? It doesn't seem likely, but then again, you do tend to show up everywhere, so it's possible. You guys just don't have the same connection as Bobbie and I do.

Not that it matters to me on that front. I really don't see much need for me to tag out once I'm in there.

As I've already stated, I know you, Knoxie. I know what makes you tick. I know what gets under your skin. And I'm going to do everything I can to throw off your game and get the pin on you, because nothing will rub salt into the wound more than me pinning you once again. And I'm sure you'll claim I cheated once more, and hey, anything's possible.

I've proven I can do anything to win in the past. I'll keep proving it in the future.

Because winning is what matters, Knoxie.

Winning is what matters.


~We go back to the ranch, where chaos reigns. We see one of the large barns used to store supplies up in flames, flickering high into the night. The ranchers have gotten together, forming a bucket brigade from where the water pumps are, quickly transferring bucket after bucket down the line towards the fire. The water is having an effect... just not enough of one. Sadie comes running up, looking things over and instantly realizing they're in trouble.~

Sadie Anderson: The fire department in Dallas said they're sending units, but it'll be at least 30-40 minutes. Wait... where's Peter?

Cliff Sterling: You got me! He ordered us to line up and start trying to put the fire out, but then he ran off!

~There are some grumbles from the ranch hands, as they keep working, trying to make a dent in the inferno. Another group is working on the other barn, but it's slow going there as well.~

Sadie Anderson: It's not like Peter to run away. He must have something else in...

~Suddenly, there's the sound of approaching hooves. Sadie turns, seeing Vaughn riding up on a carriage led by two horses. Surprised, she steps out of the way, as Vaughn pulls up.~

Sadie Anderson: What on Earth?

Peter Vaughn: No time, Sadie. Cliff, Trent, get over here and put these on!

~Vaughn jumps to the back of the small carriage, where several backpacks can be seen, laying there. Cliff and Trent hurry over, following orders, and grab at the strange packs. They look them over, confused, realizing how heavy they are. Vaughn quickly flips a switch on each of them.~

Peter Vaughn: There you go, boys. Packs of my own design. They'll help you put out the fire.

~Both Cliff and Trent look nervous, as some of Vaughn's "inventions" haven't worked out as expected. But Cliff trusts him, so he moves first, heading towards the fire and pressing the button, aiming the gun that way. He expects a jet of water, but instead feels a bit of suction as the pack goes off. He moves closer to the fire, realizing that it's taking out the oxygen around the flames, helping to reduce it. Trent, seeing this, joins in, and the two work on battling the flames. Meanwhile, Vaughn takes the other packs over to the second barn, donning one himself to work on it.~

Peter Vaughn: Press the blue button to cut out suction and fire off the fluoroprotein. Use it sparingly, though, each pack only has a small amount!

~Vaughn steps up, spraying the foamy substance forward on a particularly aggressive burning spot. It goes out almost instantly. The crew works hard, using everything available to them, and soon it appears they've been successful. The flames are down to smoking cinders at this point. Vaughn hands over his pack to another ranch hand and walks over to Sadie.~

Sadie Anderson: The fire department will be here soon, not that they're needed. You really should patent those devices, they really work!

~Vaughn shrugs off the praise, still steaming.~

Peter Vaughn: This was all the work of Judd Harrison.

Sadie Anderson: We don't know that for sure...

Peter Vaughn: He was furious when we countered his schemes. His legal way of taking my ranch from me didn't work, so he's trying to burn it down around me! I'll show him. I'll dynamite his entire...

Sadie Anderson: You will do NO SUCH THING, Peter Vaughn!!

~Vaughn stops, surprised at the strictness in his fiancé's tone. He turns back, his eyes narrowed as Sadie steps up to him, showing no fear of his temper.~

Sadie Anderson: If we can find proof that it was Judd, we'll make him pay. I swear it. But for right now, we need to make sure everything's under control here. And you're the man in charge. So don't be running off half-cocked. Be the leader these guys need!

Peter Vaughn: Sadie... I...

~Vaughn steps towards Sadie, trying to think things through. She stares back at him, resilient as ever. The two lean towards each other. That's when the gunshot rings out.~


Let's talk about reliability in stressful situations.

I know that I can trust Bobbie Dahl, knowing her the way I do. Maybe we've never wrestled in the squared circle together, but I've talked with her before, and I have a good read on her personality in the ring. I feel like when the going gets tough, Bobbie is going to tear through it like nobody's business. She'll also have The Mechanic backing her up the entire way.

Sure, I'm not exactly known for my trustworthiness, but I have a lot riding on this tournament. That makes me ultra-focused on making sure that Bobbie is successful on her side of things. I don't want to have to try and win the whole match myself, and having a partner who can stand strong in a championship-caliber contest will definitely help greatly with that. Bobbie is a top find, and I'm feeling extremely fortunate to have her on my side.

Do you feel the same, Kasey? What about you, Knoxie?

If I were Kasey, I wouldn't be feeling that secure right now. Can she really trust Knox to back her up? Yes, Knox has been willing to support some people, like Amber, but he's also been a rough partner for other wrestlers, if he doesn't think they're performing well enough. Doesn't he seem like the sort that would wave his hands in the air and walk off away from the ring, leaving Kasey all on her own?

I mean, that wouldn't change much in this contest, since it's not like I can tag in to face her. But it still doesn't make for a good partner.

Maybe I'm wrong about Knoxie. Maybe he won't walk off in the middle of the contest, or even afterwards. But when you're in a match for only one reason, the rest of the motivation is lost to you. Do you really think, Kasey, that if you guys make it past Bobbie & I, Knox will still be invested? You might have an anchor around your waist the rest of the tournament.

Of course, I'm planning for you guys to sink in the first round, right to the bottom. So that shouldn't matter either way.

Either Bobbie is going to bomb Kasey, eliminating her from the contest, or I'm going to once again take Mattie for the Plunge. There are no other outcomes I'm going to allow. I will do anything and everything I can to make sure my team comes out victorious, teaming with Bobbie as if we are future tag-team champions... which we can be.

While Matt and Kasey will just be... strangers without a connection, falling freely out of the first round.

Back to the singles ranks you two go. See you elsewhere, Mattie.


~A couple more gunshots ring out, as Vaughn tackles Sadie to the ground. The two roll to cover, with Vaughn getting himself upright. He looks out in the distance, as other ranch hands run for cover. The flash of light tells him exactly where the shots are coming from. He looks back the other direction, and a wave of shock crosses his face.~

Sadie Anderson: Ugh...

Peter Vaughn: Sadie... are you alright?

~Vaughn turns and kneels over Sadie, who is working to get up. She's holding her side.~

Sadie Anderson: I'm fine, although I know how Dak Prescott feels when he gets sacked. You really nailed me. But... thanks.

~Vaughn looks her over one more time, then turns, glaring out past the ruins of the barn.~

Peter Vaughn: That does it. Judd's gone too far.

Sadie Anderson: We don't know that, Peter. Police are coming with the fire department. They should be here any minute. Let's just stay down and...

Peter Vaughn: Not a chance. He's got to pay for injuring those I love...

Sadie Anderson: Peter...

~Sadie reaches out a hand to her fiancé, touching him on the arm. Vaughn, meanwhile, is looking back the other direction... where we can see that Vaughn's truck, Gabriella, is sitting. She has two gunshot holes in her windows. Vaughn, seeing red, suddenly breaks away from Sadie and runs for the carriage, jumping on board and spurring the horses forward.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter, wait!!!

~The horses obediently charge forward, well-trained. They don't seem bothered with gunfire, which is a benefit for ranchers. The shooting momentarily stops, as the shooter is probably incredulous that Vaughn is charging them with a horse & carriage. Another shot finally goes off, but it's wide, as Vaughn gets close enough to leap off the carriage and fly into them. There's a brief fight in the distance, as Sadie begins to head that way. Cliff runs up, tossing her a shotgun.~

[font color=orange]Cliff Sterling: Glad the boss finally gave me the safe combination. Let's get over there![/color]

~They both run over, armed, to find Vaughn... on top of the squirming man, holding him down with a crossface submission.~

Man: Ow!! OWWW!!! Let go of me!!!

Peter Vaughn: You shot her... I should break your arm...

Man: Aggghhhh!!!!

Sadie Anderson: Peter, it's okay!! I'm fine! Just let him up!!

~Vaughn reluctantly releases the hold, getting up and dragging the man with him, so that Sadie and Cliff can get a good look at him.~

Cliff Sterling: Oh, damn...

Sadie Anderson: Augustus Raymeth??

~Augustus suddenly tries to jump at Vaughn, who easily subdues him again.~

Augustus Raymeth: You did this!! You!!

Peter Vaughn: You've really flipped your lid, haven't you, Augustus? Did Judd put you up to this? Is he the reason you're attacking us??

~Vaughn grabs the back of Augustus' neck, but he struggles against the hold.~

Augustus Raymeth: I don't give a damn about Judd!! I want... ow! I want my family's land back! You stole it!! YOU STOLE IT!!!

Peter Vaughn: Are we still on about that?

~Vaughn shakes his head, even as we hear sirens approaching. They all look off towards the flashing lights coming up the road.~

Sadie Anderson: Better late than never?

Peter Vaughn: I suppose... c'mon, crazy, let's go meet the police...

Augustus Raymeth: Thief... you're a THIEF!!

~Vaughn drags him towards the police cars that are pulling up, as we cut away.~


It all comes down to this, Knoxie: can we trust our tag-team partners?

I feel good about mine. How about you?

Are you starting to feel some nerves there, Knext, or are you immune from those nowadays? Do you even care enough to get nervous?

Because I'm feeling it. It's getting me energized, ready for war with you once again.

Let the Blast From The Past Tournament begin.

Once Bobbie and I wipe The KnoxVex conglomerate from the brackets, we'll move on to the next team. And the next one. And we won't stop until we've got those championship shots in our grasp.

And I'll relish the thought of Knox thinking to himself, "I could have stopped him. Once again, I could have stopped the path of destruction.

And I failed."

See you in the ring, boyo. Good luck. You'll both need it.


~The final firetruck drives away, its lights off. Vaughn and Sadie watch them go, before looking back at the two damaged barns sitting nearby.~

Peter Vaughn: Those aren't going to be cheap to rebuild.

Sadie Anderson: Maybe we can get the Raymeth Estate to pay for it.

~Vaughn doesn't seem optimistic, knowing how long battles can take in the courts. They'll need those barns much sooner than that. They walk off to look over more of the damage, as Sadie glances at a bullet hole in the wall.~

Sadie Anderson: Amazing that Augustus really went off the deep end there. I knew he wanted this land back, but I thought it was just a scheme with Judd Harrison. He really took it personally. I wonder why he believes so strongly that you stole this land from his father?

~Vaughn can only shrug his shoulders, looking off in the distance with a small smile.~

Peter Vaughn: Who knows?

~Vaughn keeps staring, as if remembering something that happened here long ago. Sadie doesn't notice, continuing to go over the damage as the camera slowly zooms out, leaving the PMV Ranch, formerly the Raymeth Ranch, behind.~

 

11
Supercard Archives / The Battle For PMV Ranch, P2
« on: April 12, 2024, 04:41:51 PM »
~As the shot comes up, those astute viewers who watched our last video will recognize the court room where the proceedings against the PMV Ranch are taking place. We see Mr. Michaels off to the left, having a discussion with his client, Augustus Raymeth. They are trying to lay claim to the land around PMV Ranch, saying it should have never been sold to Peter Vaughn, but Vaughn and his associates are fighting the claim. To the right, we see the lawyer, Elisa Dartum, in furious conversation with Vaughn's fiancé, Sadie Anderson. They continue to talk, even as Judge Trebur makes his way back into the room. He goes up to his bench, taking a seat, before looking out over the crowd and taking note of who's there. He grabs his gavel, giving it a quick bang to catch everyone's attention.~

Judge Trebur: I do hope everyone had an enjoyable lunch. I believe we're ready to continue this case, but I notice that we're missing someone. Ms. Dartum, where is Peter Vaughn?

~Elisa gets up slightly nervously, brushing her dress down before stepping forward.~

Elisa Dartum: Your honor, I'm afraid that Mr. Vaughn has been unavoidably detained by a business matter.

Judge Trebur: Business? He's a wrestler, isn't he? He didn't get hit with a steel chair or something, did he?

~There are a few faint laughs, as the people in the room make sure to throw out a 'giggle' for the judge's joke.~

Elisa Dartum: No, your honor. I do not believe so. This involves more business from his ranch, I believe. But Ms. Anderson here is a top shareholder in the ranch, and she will be able to represent them here this afternoon.

Judge Trebur: Mr. Michaels? Any objections?

~Michaels stands up, straightening his own suit before answering.~

Mr. Michaels: While I find it a bit... callous that Mr. Vaughn would decide not to be here, I'm perfectly fine in continuing my case.

Judge Trebur: So be it. Call your next witness, Mr. Michaels.

~Michaels nods and goes to prepare, as Elisa turns back to Sadie with a frown.~

Elisa Dartum: This is a dangerous game your fiancé is playing, Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: That's about the only game Peter knows how to play. But don't worry. Wherever he ends up, Peter will succeed in what needs to be done. I believe in him.

~Elisa nods, before turning to see the next witness approaching the stand. She takes a deep breath, knowing that she's got to keep this case going... at least until Vaughn returns from wherever he's gone. We cut away.~
 

~We now find ourselves approaching a set of steel bars. It's a recognizable sight even for those who have never spent time behind them, thanks to television and films. We're apparently inside a jail. The camera continues to approach the bars, passing right through them in an implausible feat of technical wizardry... or just really good editing. Inside the jail cell, we see a man sitting there, scratching at his nails and looking extremely anxious. It is Anthony Jenkins, the brother-in-law of Augustus Raymeth, who was caught trying to break into Augustus' work safe earlier today. He sighs to himself, then jumps when he hears the door nearby slam open. He turns to look, as a police officer walks into the room, carrying a tray.~

Anthony Jenkins: So what is it? Time for another interrogation? I told you I didn't do nothing, man!

Sergeant Powell: Calm down, prisoner. You're getting yourself too stressed out. I'm just bringing you lunch.

~The sergeant moves the tray over to the side, putting it where it can easily slide through the bars. Anthony looks at it suspiciously, as he's never trusted cops.~

Anthony Jenkins: You guys are losing it. I've already had lunch. Hours ago.

Sergeant Powell: Ahhh. Well, maybe you could just call this a special mid-afternoon snack, then? A man has to keep his energy up, right?

Anthony Jenkins: I... suppose.

Sergeant Powell: Besides, it never hurts to have someone looking out for you, does it?

Anthony Jenkins: Huh?

~The sergeant tips his hat at Anthony, and then turns and walks away, whistling a tune. Anthony watches him go, looking like he's sure a few bats have escaped that man's belfry, before walking over and taking the tray. It's not like there's much else to do in a jail cell. He takes it over to the small, ratty bed and sits down with it, only now noticing that it's not just a plate of fruit... it's also got a note. Curious, he opens it up, reading as he begins to munch on a banana. He quickly loses his appetite, though, dropping the banana remains to the side, as he rereads the note. He then shakes his head, looking more anxious than ever, as he drops the note onto the bed. The camera moves in to get a good look at it.~

Stay Calm, Stay Cool, Stay Quiet.
    You Haven't Been Forgotten.
    We Know About Panama City.

~Anthony slides to the side, rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed, as he considers his options. He then reaches over, grabbing the note and taking it over to the small toilet in the cell, shredding it in order to make it disappear. He's made his decision. We fade out, leaving him to wait in his small room for what's to come.~


Sometimes you have to remind people of the facts of the matter.

Like, for instance, you, Milo. You ever heard the quotation where you can't see the forest for the trees? All you seem to be able to view is my "mind games", bringing them up multiple times. It's funny to me, really, that you think my best weapon is getting inside your head, when it's clear that I don't really need to do anything. I'm already dug in there deeply, as far as I can tell.

Sure, I took out Rodrigo to send a reminder message to you, but it was to test your reaction to it. I wanted to let you know that I'm still going to be ruthless, but I also wanted to see how much Miles Kasey has grown since I last faced him for the championship. Well, I got my answer. In your heart, deep in your soul, you really haven't changed. You're the same guy I defeated multiple times in the past. But I wonder, has your view of me changed? Will that make a difference?

After all, when we first faced off, obviously there was no mind games. It was you vs. me in a one-on-one match, and I came out successful. It probably sat there in the back of your mind, though, when we faced off for the Roulette Title. It could be why you didn't hold onto that rope long enough, allowing me to become the champion while you had to dry off after a dip in the pool. You just didn't fight hard enough.

After that, we have the World Title Tournament, where you and I faced off as equal champions. Honestly, I barely even acknowledge this win, probably because of how that tournament ended to me, but I suppose I shouldn't ignore it, should I? You felt like the superior champ going into that one, that much was clear... but was the uncertainty still in there, gnawing at you? Because you came up short again, with me moving forward in the tournament and leaving you in the dust. For a third time.

So will all those losses, stacked up like a Jenga puzzle, be rolling around in your noggin as we face off again? Will you be picturing me as someone you can defeat, or am I someone you just have to survive? Do I appear as the Boogeyman in your bad dreams, always taking away the things that you want? Or will it be the opposite? Are you working hard to see me as just another roadblock that you need to clear to be the best? That would probably be your best course of action, but if that was the case, you would have just taken out Justin and been ready for me.

No, Miles. I don't need mind games to win. But I'm not going to deny that it's still an advantage I'll make use of.

When you land your best moves and I'm still kicking out, I'm going to enjoy that look of anguish on your face, as you realize that the Boogeyman is indeed real... and he's ready to come take you down for a third time.

Sunday is going to be fun, Milo.

Boo.


~The picture shifts out to the ranch of one Judd Harrison, located down the road from the PMV Ranch. For the last year, Judd has been the main force trying to keep Peter Vaughn out of the ranching business. He always claimed that Vaughn had no right to be a rancher, having bought his way in, and it's hard to disagree with him. But Vaughn has persevered in spite of Judd's attempts to keep him from the cattle board and out of ranching. He's succeeded, which has just made Judd even more certain that he doesn't belong. It's also had the older man on his guard, which allowed him to realize that something wasn't right about his newest ranch hand, Cliff. That same man now sits in front of Judd, tied up on a chair, glaring at him as Judd limps past him, clutching at his silver cane.~

Judd Harrison: Now I may be an old-fashioned kind of man, but that doesn't mean I cannot be merciful. You just need to talk to me, son, and maybe everything can be forgiven.

~Cliff doesn't say a word, still just staring meaningfully at Judd, who just smiles at him.~

Judd Harrison: I know you were listening in on our conversations, and we caught you going into my stateroom. I don't know why you thought you would get away from us. This is MY land, son. I rule here, and nobody can just escape me without my knowledge. But as I said, we can end all this now. Just tell me who you are working for, and what you had hoped to gain from it. And I give you my word that you will walk out of here.

~Behind Judd, there is a minor guffaw that is quickly stifled. Judd glances that way, his smile faltering, before he locked the mask back on. He leans forward, staring deeply into Cliff's eyes.~

Judd Harrison: I treat my friends well, Cliff. Don't you want to be a friend? Tell me what I want to know.

~Cliff finally seems to react, as a slow smile cuts across his bruised face.~

Cliff Sterling: Mr. Harrison... I'm gonna decline that invitation to be your friend. I happen to know that you're gonna be going down soon, and I can't wait to see how it happens.

~Judd thinks about this for a second, and then smirks as he turns back to his most trusted ranch hands, the ones who won't say anything about what happens here.~

Judd Harrison: I think Cliff here needs some more special attention. I'm sure we can talk again later, when he's more agreeable...

~One of the men steps forward, grinning evilly, as Cliff begins to brace himself. But everyone in the room stops moving when a loud siren can be heard, building up in the distance.~

Ranch Hand #1: What the heck??

Ranch Hand #2: That's our coyote alarm! The cattle's under attack!!

~The two men start to head towards the door, but Judd stops them, eyeing Cliff before speaking.~

Judd Harrison: We barely ever have troubles with that, and in April of all times? No. This is a trick, boys. They want us to leave Cliff alone so they can rescue him. We've probably got another imposter on the crew. Who else is here, Cliff??

~Judd grabs hold of Cliff's shirt, leaning down at him. Cliff does nothing but smile back, making Judd want to wipe that smile off of his face. Instead, he lets go, stepping back, just as the door to the room comes smashing open. The two ranch hands turn, ready to attack, and grab hold of the man... before realizing that it's one of their own, a man named Cobb.~

Cobb: Boss! We need help out here!!

Judd Harrison: It's all a hoax, Cobb, you can trust me on this...

Cobb: No! Sir!! I'm the one who set it off! There are coyotes in the cattle pen!!

Judd Harrison: WHAT?!?!?!

Cobb: I don't know how they got in, but they already took down one cow and are looking for more! I need your keys for the gun safe, boss!! We've got to take them out!!

~Judd looks back and forth between Cobb and Cliff, before finally sighing.~

Judd Harrison: I'm going to go take care of this. You two stay here, I'm sure Cobb and I can handle it!

Cobb: Are you sure we don't need...

Judd Harrison: GET MOVING, COBB!!!

~An angry Judd Harrison storms out of the room, with Cobb right behind him. The two ranch hands look at each other, fighting not to laugh at hearing Cobb get told off. One then turns back to Cliff, who still can't do anything other than stare.~

Ranch Hand #1: As long as we're staying...

~The man steps menacingly towards Cliff... right as an object comes flying through the nearby window. It rolls to the center of the room, with all three men looking down at it. It appears to be a soda bottle that's been plugged up with something, something that's smoking. Within a few moments, the bottle pops with a loud bang, sending a cloud of smoke throughout the room. Everyone begins coughing from the fumes, as the door swings open... and Peter Vaughn steps through, wearing a COVID-style mask around his face. As the first ranch hand turns towards him, Vaughn unleashes his best shot... spraying Windex right into the guy's eyes!! He staggers back, screaming, as Vaughn turns and sprays the second man as well. They're both in agony as Vaughn turns to see Cliff, who's fighting his own tears from the smoke.~

Peter Vaughn: Be with you in a minute, Cliff.

~Vaughn then puts the bottle back in his pocket and grabs both blinded men by the head, smashing them together. They drop to the ground, with Vaughn quickly yanking them over to the side. He secures them together through a cabinet handle, using a set of zip ties to keep them from getting up. Vaughn then comes over to Cliff, popping out his favorite Swiss army knife to quickly cut away the cords holding him down. Cliff sags forward, exhausted, but Vaughn helps him up.~

Cliff Sterling: You didn't... have to come for me... boss...

Peter Vaughn: Eh... unlike Anthony, you've been a saint, Cliff. Nothing to blackmail you on, so I might as well just rescue you before they beat the truth out of you. Now let's get going. The coyotes will only work for so long.

Cliff Sterling: There really were... coyotes?

Peter Vaughn: I needed to get them off my land, somehow. This seemed to be a good way to kill two birds with one stone...

~Vaughn drags Cliff out of the room, heading for the other side of the property. He looks back at the two men still tied up inside the smoky room.~

Peter Vaughn: Enjoy the sauna, boyos.

~Vaughn kicks the door shut again, leaving them behind.~


You always have to beware the wolves at the gate, Milo. Even if sometimes they're coyotes at the fence instead.

I've been preparing for this confrontation with you for weeks now, ever since I learned I would be coming for you once again. I will admit, it's taken a bit of a shift in focus, being the pursuer instead of the pursuee, but I've adapted to it. I spent some time watching footage of many of your recent matches. It wasn't easy, but I managed to get through all of them, so that I could have a better sense of "the champion".

For instance, your battles with Austin James Mercer. You talked about ME trying to get under your skin, but he kept going after HB Carter, didn't he, just to incite you? Hell, I'm a saint compared to him. Maybe in the past I would have done something like that, but once you have a fiancé I guess that option goes out the window. Still, it almost worked, didn't it? You were distracted, and almost fell to both the Legacy Bomb and the Mercenary. If Austin had actually been able to equal the mind games with actual skill, we would have had a new champion at December 2 Dismember.

Of course, I know all about your next major match, in the tournament... when I cleaned your clock and got yet another victory over you. But I still watched the recording back, to see if there was anything else I could learn from it. The biggest thing I noticed? You tend to telegraph your maneuvers the later into the match you go. I mean, you all but told me "Hey, block this move, will you? I don't want to hit it." And I obliged, putting you down with the Keyholder.

Maybe you were still shaken by that, but you sure didn't perform up to snuff in your next major contest, tagging with Alexandra Calaway against Alexander Raven & Luna Pasilno. Now, true, Raven DID cheat by grabbing the ropes in that roll-up. But you weren't able to counter it, were you? So what's to stop me using that very same strategy, now that it's proven successful?

But these string of losses are getting old. Let's jump to My Bloody Valentine. Now this one, against Oliver Zahn, was a dream match, I have to say. Not because of the competitors involved, but in how the match itself went down. Counters after counters, some great stuff throughout. I must say, I gave this match a standing ovation once it was over. Truthfully, Milo, this was the first contest where I thought, this is Miles at 100%. And that's the one I want to see at Blaze of Glory.

This was probably the match that saved you some pain, actually.

You know what the "devious wrestler" codebooks says, Milo. I should have assaulted you in the back at some point. I should have tried to break an arm or tweak a leg, leaving you vulnerable for when we face off. I could have ambushed you at almost any time over the last several shows. But I chose not to. Because all-in-all, Milo, I want this one to be definitive. I don't want you broken and beaten until AFTER the bell rings.

I want to face Miles Kasey, Internet Champion, at his best, so that when I'm victorious, nobody can say it wasn't deserved.

When I come in there and end your long reign, Milo, it'll be because I've used every single bit of knowledge I've learned about you. I'll have you as frustrated as a kid playing a wrestling video game, helplessly mashing buttons with no success as the reversals keep coming. Truth be told, I want this victory more than any match I've had in 2024 so far. Because this will be the proof that I'm evolving in Sin City. I'm rising to levels I've never been before.

The wolf is at the gate, Milo. And it's ravenous for gold.

Be forewarned.

My bite is just as dangerous as my bark.


~As Vaughn gets Cliff down the hillside, Cliff has to fight not to fall. Vaughn holds him up, though, getting him around to where his truck, Gabriella, is parked. Cliff leans against it, fatigued, as Vaughn pops the back tailgate open. He goes to grab Cliff, who looks at him with a pained expression.~

Cliff Sterling: In the back? Really, boss?

Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean... you're a little bloody...

Cliff Sterling: It's just my lip. They hadn't done much else to me...

~Cliff winces, touching at his fattened lip. Vaughn sighs, then pulls out a handkerchief, handing it over. He then shuts the tailgate and turns, going to the passenger door and opening it up.~

Peter Vaughn: Just be careful where you put your hands.

~Cliff obediently hops in, with Vaughn going to the other side and starting up the truck. They drive off, leaving the borders of Judd Harrison's ranch. Cliff dabs at his mouth for a few seconds, before suddenly his eyes go wide.~

Cliff Sterling: Wait!! We have to go back!!

Peter Vaughn: Why?

Cliff Sterling: The documents I found! The proof! We've got to get it!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, those. I already grabbed them before I got you. They're in the back.

~Confused, Cliff looks in the back, where there is indeed a stack of papers placed in a folder.~

Cliff Sterling: But... but how? I never told you where I hid them...

Peter Vaughn: Please, Cliff. Once you said you had something, I knew it was hidden in the downstairs closet of the bunkhouse, on the upper right shelf.

Cliff Sterling: .... Are you clairvoyant, boss??

Peter Vaughn: Hah. That would explain how I've won so many wrestling matches, wouldn't it? It would give ol' Milo another excuse to hang his hat on. But no. I'm not psychic. I've just known for months about your hidden magazine stash on our own ranch. Figured you would use the same spot here.

~Cliff's face turns a little more red as he realizes what this means, swallowing for a second.~

Cliff Sterling: Does... does Sadie know?

Peter Vaughn: Oh no, if SHE knew, you'd already know about it. But I don't see the harm. Anyhow, that's how I knew where to find these documents. You got some good stuff here. Even I didn't know about the land deal between Harrison and Judge Trebur.

~Vaughn nods, pleased with the information, knowing he can make it work to his advantage. Cliff, though, looks a little more pensive now.~

Cliff Sterling: So... you searched the property, found the documents, and got them back to your truck... before you came to rescue me?

Peter Vaughn: Well, I couldn't very well do it in the reverse order, could I? You can't search when people are looking for you.

Cliff Sterling: But... but I...

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, Cliff. it all had to happen this way. Trust a guy who knows.

~Vaughn tapes the side of his head, as if once again referencing being some sort of psychic. He smirks, as he takes another turn, getting onto the highway back to Dallas. Cliff notices that they've taken a different direction than he expected.~

Cliff Sterling: We're... not going back to the ranch?

Peter Vaughn: No time. We need to get this paperwork into Elisa's hands as soon as possible. Then maybe a deal can be made, before my property is taken away from me.

~Just the thought of this wipes the smile away from Vaughn's face. He's been called many things over his wrestling career, and it'd be fair to say one of those things is definitely being possessive. He hangs onto championships, and he damn well plans to hang onto his ranch. The accelerator is pressed down, and the truck goes even faster, heading towards Dallas as Cliff just hangs on, still looking a little shellshocked.~


~As the picture returns, we now find ourselves outside of the courthouse where the trial has been taking place. We can see Sadie checking on Cliff to the side, giving him something to help the cut on his lip heal. She shakes her head, talking with him, before turning and walking back over to Vaughn.~

Sadie Anderson: I still can't believe that Cliff got attacked like that. I also can't believe you didn't tell me he was going undercover like that!!

Peter Vaughn: Well, you see... you would have said no.

Sadie Anderson: Damn straight I would have!

Peter Vaughn: And then we wouldn't have the evidence that Judd Harrison bought off Judge Trebur.

Sadie Anderson: But does that really solve anything? Technically, Harrison isn't even a part of this trial. Augustus is.

Peter Vaughn: True. Which is why while I was rescuing Cliff here, I had my custodial friends launching an operation on Augustus' safe.

Sadie Anderson: You... you what??

~Sadie's mouth drops open in shock, even as Vaughn just simply shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: I couldn't do it all myself. There wasn't time. And thankfully, they were willing to do it, although I will have to pay the college fees for one of their sons. But hell, I'm all about higher education anyway. Maybe I can disguise it as a PMV grant, think we could pull that off?

Sadie Anderson: But, uh, wait... there was extra security on Augustus' office, that's why Anthony got captured.

Peter Vaughn: Right, Anthony. I still need to get him sprung from the slammer. Eh, I'll work on that tomorrow, it's been a long day. But it was Anthony that got me interested. I didn't care about Augustus' safe until I saw how heavily it was protected. And trust me, a custodian can get into anything they want. ANYTHING.

~With that, Vaughn brings up his phone, showing off some of the pictures there to Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: As you can see, Augustus decided to keep copies of all his correspondence with Judd. Guess he didn't trust him. Smart guy, really. And from what he wrote, it's clear that Augustus wasn't happy with the way things were coming out. But he's in a bind, really needed the land, so he went along with it. I gave all of these to Elisa too, by the way.

~Sadie slowly slumps to the ground, sitting on the first step going down from the courthouse. Vaughn sits next to her, puzzled.~

Peter Vaughn: Everything's working out, Sadie, just like I promised. The ranch is going to be safe.

Sadie Anderson: You've done some... amazing work, Peter. Truly amazing.

~Smiling, Vaughn leans in, expecting a kiss. Instead, Sadie grabs the front of his coveralls, pulling him in closer to glare at him.~

Sadie Anderson: But we ARE going to work on our communication in the future, aren't we?

Peter Vaughn: ..... Yes, ma'am.

Sadie Anderson: And DON'T call me ma'am!

~Sadie pushes Vaughn off, leaving him to sit in bewilderment a few feet away. She can't hide the sneaky grin cutting across her face, though, as she thinks about all the good that's come out of this. The picture slowly fades out.~



Well, Milo... looks like the time for talk is over.

You have confidence in yourself, believing that you've turned a corner and you can retain that Internet Championship of yours.

I know the truth, and I know that I'll be wearing that title around my waist sooner rather than later.

I'm going to be bringing it all to the table, Miles, so I won't have any excuses, either, if I falter in the end. You'll have that win you always wanted on your resume. A victory over Peter Vaughn. It's meant a lot to others in the past, although most have fallen to me since then. I guess this could be seen as your golden opportunity.

And it'll be just that. An opportunity that goes nowhere.

And maybe you'll land on your feet afterwards. You'll have the tag tournament to fight for, and let's face it, I'm far weaker when it comes to tag-teams. Maybe that's where you can take me down. Or maybe you can, like I said, go for the Roulette Title... or maybe losing to me is going to propel you forward once again, and you'll be the man to take Finn or Goth down.

These are all possibilities. So is your potential retirement after Sunday.

But I don't expect that.

We're going to be all anyone talks about after Blaze of Glory, Milo, and you'll have to live with the conversations you hear. As we'll both be praised in the end, but I'll be walking out of there with a new championship to brag about, and you'll just be there cursing my name.

Remember, it's Peter Vaughn.

The Mechanic.

Aka the one who's going to make you take the Plunge.


12
Supercard Archives / The Battle For PMV Ranch, P1
« on: April 06, 2024, 11:37:49 PM »
~The picture comes up on our faithful cameraman, who has worked with Peter Vaughn since he came to Sin City over a year ago. This, though, is the first time we've seen him this... exposed, as he looks into a mirror in front of us. He straightens his bow-tie, moving the camera left and right for a moment, showing that the bowtie is actually a hidden camera. Satisfied, the cameraman walks off, leaving the restroom, which was thankfully otherwise unoccupied at the moment. He walks down the hall, nodding to a bailiff, as he goes through the courtroom doors and takes a seat about halfway in, so he can get good footage as we see the trial of the PMV Ranch currently underway. Judge Trebur finishes a bit of paperwork, then looks forward towards the plaintiff's desk.~

Judge Trebur: Please call your next witness, Mr. Michaels.

~The lawyer nods, standing up.~

Mr. Michaels: We call Augustus Raymeth to the stand.

~The crowd murmurs as Augustus stands up and walks to the front, getting himself sweared in before taking a seat.~

Mr. Michaels: Now, Mr. Raymeth, we know that your father, Samuel Raymeth, was said to have signed over his land to Mr. Peter Vaughn, for a less-than-adequate payment...

Elisa Dartum: Objection, your honor. The payments shown in Exhibit C have already shown that they were on average for the time period of this sale.

Judge Trebur: Objection sustained. Move on, Mr. Michaels.

Mr. Michaels: Yes, your honor. Mr. Raymeth, were you consulted on the sale of said land?

Augustus Raymeth: No, I was not.

Mr. Michaels: Why do you think you should have been involved?

Augustus Raymeth: I was promised that land since I was young. it was a birthright.

Mr. Michaels: So why do you believe your father sold the land?

Augustus Raymeth: My father was not well at the time. He was starting to show signs of dementia, among other issues, and it would later take his life late last year. He was not competent to be making a sale of that measure to Mr. Vaughn or anyone else, for that matter.

Mr. Michaels: Your witness.

~Michaels sits down, while Dartum stands up, immediately grabbing a piece of paper and bringing it forward.~

Elisa Dartum: I'm entering this into evidence, Your Honor, as Exhibit K.

Judge Trebur: So noted.

Elisa Dartum: Mr. Raymeth, as you can see here, this is your father's diagnosis from the Dallas Medical Center. This is when he was first diagnosed with dementia, wasn't it?

Augustus Raymeth: Ummm, the date looks right, but I'd have to check...

Elisa Dartum: But this date is more than a year after Mr. Vaughn's purchase of the property, isn't it? How do you explain that?

Augustus Raymeth: ... The diagnosis is not the start of it, Ms. Dartum. He was showing symptoms long before this.

Elisa Dartum: So you say. And yet we have talked to multiple witnesses who will state that your father was in sound mind during the time he signed the contracts, and only began to show deterioration many months later. It seems you're trying to stretch the truth, sir.

Mr. Michaels: Objection!

Elisa Dartum: Withdrawn. I tender the witness.

~Elisa goes to sit down, as the judge checks his watch.~

Judge Trebur: This feels like a good time for a recess for lunch. We'll get back together at 2.

~The judge hits his gavel, as Vaughn immediately stands up, smiling as he sees the lawyer furiously discussing with Augustus how Vaughn's team could have that document. Vaughn nods to Elisa, then heads towards the exit, with the cameraman following him.~

Peter Vaughn: This is feeling more and more like victory, something I know well. How are you doing, chief?

~Vaughn smirks at the cameraman, although he couldn't possibly know about the camera... could he? The cameraman just shrugs.~

Cameraman: It's sounding good so far. But I never assume things in a court case. My cousin seemed to have a clear win in his fight against his ex-wife. He's still in jail at the moment.

Peter Vaughn: Thanks for the vote of confidence. It's all going to work out in my favor, you'll see, man. I'm looking forward to my ranch being secured and my Internet Championship having come home by the end of the month.

Cameraman: "Your" Internet Championship?

Peter Vaughn: True, i've never held it before. But doesn't it feel... destined for me? Like it was always meant to be? That's just how I feel, just like I knew that the Roulette Title record would belong to me. I really need to do some research and find out how long I need to be the Internet Champion before I have the record there as well.

Cameraman: Just to ask, though... why not the Heavyweight Title? Why not go to the top?

~Vaughn's expression changes slightly, as his smile fades.~

Peter Vaughn: I know others have asked me that. But after falling in the tournament to Finn Whalen, I felt like I... hadn't proved myself worthy of that title shot. I'd rather my friend Goth go for the gold, while I take a step up the ladder and continue to build my Sin City resume. That means getting another championship around my waist, which I'm going to make sure happens...

Cameraman: If it's any consolation to you, I think you're going to get there sooner rather than later. And I plan to be there when you're holding that Heavyweight Title high in the air.

Peter Vaughn: I'm glad to hear you say that, friend. It's good that you have such faith in me. After all, you're here just listening to me talking about what I'm going to do to Miles Kasey to win the Internet Title, for no obvious reason other than friendship, right? Right?

~The cameraman swallows audibly, seemingly nervous. As Vaughn steps forward, seemingly looking right towards the bowtie, he's suddenly grabbed on the arm. He turns, surprised, as his fiancé, Sadie Anderson, is standing there with a dark expression on her face.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh, hey, Sadie, I didn't expect to see you here. Want to get some lunch? The guy here will probably treat.

Cameraman: What? Me? On my salary??

Sadie Anderson: Peter... we've got a problem. I need to talk to you... right now... alone.

Peter Vaughn: What, we can't trust Bill Nye over here?

~Vaughn gestures towards the cameraman, who nervously straightens the bowtie again. Vaughn takes note.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah... you're right. I'll talk to you later, boyo.

~Vaughn turns and hurries after Sadie, as the cameraman is left with nothing more to do than keep fiddling with the camera tied around his neck.~


"By failing to prepare, you're preparing to fail."

That's Benjamin Franklin right there. Sure, the guy's got some dents in his reputation now, but he sure had a way with quotations.

I've never failed to prepare for battle, be it in a courtroom or in the squared circle. I've definitely prepared for you, Miles. But I wonder how much you've put into this one, setting yourself up for possibly your greatest challenge ever. Have you been hitting the weights like a madman since this match was announced? Have you been losing sleep due to nightmares about what's to come? Or have you pushed it all aside to simply enjoy the ride, alongside HB Carter? I mean, I wouldn't put it past you just to accept the inevitable.

Nah, I take that back. I'd be insulted if you weren't training your ass off right now.

After all, Milo, you've already been humiliated by me twice. Once when nothing was on the line but pride, when you had a chance to stop me before I'd even begun. Once when you could have denied me the Roulette Championship, keeping me from the record run that would take place over the next year. Now, it's the third time, and we all know what that third strike would mean.

And I hear the nerds in the audience screaming "There was also that time-limit draw between you!" And yes, that did take place. Obviously, that's the closest you ever came, Milo, getting me at my lowest and nearly stealing away the win. But even then, you failed to put me away. Really, the less said about that match the better. The two matches that matter? I took you out and was victorious.

But I'm sure the talk out of your camp this week will be about redemption. It'll be all about how this is your chance to prove how much you've grown, and how this is the time you can take down the great Peter Vaughn and wipe this smear of crap from your record once and for all. It's the right speech to give, I'd applaud it. The problem isn't with the statement. It's with the execution of it.

I'm really not sure I believe you can beat me, Milo.

I have supreme confidence in everything I do, champ, and that includes going into a match like this. I'm fully prepared to reign hell down upon you from every direction until I knock you into next week, where you'll wake up to find your championship is no longer around your waist. I'm not going to lay back and give you a weak showing, oh no, I'm coming at 110% or more, whatever I can bring to tear you down from that Internet perch you ended up on.

I mean, let's go through who you've beaten as champion. You took down Lyons, a guy I beat multiple times before he slipped by in a multi-man match. Oh, and Braddock. Braddock, that's just funny. Let's see, there's Austin James Mercer, I suppose he counts as a name, although he hasn't been himself lately, has he? Then there was Oliver Zahn... who actually beat you, didn't he? But in a non-title match, so I guess that doesn't count. Really, I'm struggling here, man. I thought the Internet Division was supposed to be tougher than Roulette. That's what people tell me.

Are people lying to me, Milo?

Maybe it's all been a fluke. Or maybe you've just been waiting for the right competition to come along. Someone like me. I mean, it's not going to end well for you, but it will certainly raise the value of the Internet Division for sure. Especially with me as champion.

But I do think your redemption is still possible, Milos.

There is a path for you to do what you've never been able to do before. That move that has eluded you since the beginning of 2023, when I came into Sin City and made an impact that nobody expected.

And that path is you reclaiming the Roulette Championship, finally.

Just think of it, Milo. Once I've torn you limb from limb, you will have your chance to recover and prepare yourself, and you can look down at good ol' Eddie Lyons, who's sitting there at the top of his game after taking over the Roulette Division. Now, I'm not saying it'll be easy for you. Lyons has come a long way. But you could conceivably go down there and get that championship back around your waist, where you used to think it belonged.

I'd say that's a goal worthy of pursuit.

It's much more likely than your chance against me, boyo.


~Having left the cameraman behind, Vaughn joins Sadie in a back stairway. Sadie looks around to make sure they're not being joined by anyone else. Vaughn raises an eyebrow, wondering about all the concern, as Sadie steps back over to him.~

Peter Vaughn: So what's going on, Sadie? Did the travel agency call? If there's a problem with our Hawaii honeymoon, trust me, we can find some other great locations.

~It's an attempt at humor, but it falls flat. Let's face it, Vaughn's never been known for his sense of humor. Sadie shakes her head.~

Sadie Anderson: It's about Anthony Jenkins, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Augustus Raymeth's brother in law? What, he wants more money or something? We're already covering his debts...

Sadie Anderson: No, Peter. Anthony got arrested.

Peter Vaughn: ... Say again?

~Sadie shakes her head again, leaning on the railing, as Vaughn looks at her, shocked.~

Sadie Anderson: You know how Anthony thought he could break into Augustus' safe? I told him not to bother with it, but I guess he thought he could do it when Augustus was at court and out of the building. But apparently there was some extra security that Anthony didn't know about, and he was stopped before he could get in. He's at holding right now.

Peter Vaughn: Damn fool...

~Vaughn looks annoyed, but not tremendously concerned. He gets out his phone, checking on something.~

Peter Vaughn: I know a few guys who might be willing to bail him out, if we want to go that route...

Sadie Anderson: It's worse than that, Peter. You know Anthony isn't exactly... trustworthy. He was only helping us because of his gambling debts. From what I hear, he told the police that he was just trying to make sure that Augustus wasn't swindling his sister in the family business. But if they offer him a deal... who knows what he might say.

Peter Vaughn: But what can he say? We just offered him some help...

Sadie Anderson: In exchange for some information. But what's stopping him from saying that we TOLD him to break into the safe? Could you put that past him?

~Vaughn finally nods, seeing her point. But he still doesn't seem that bothered by it.~

Peter Vaughn: It'd be his word against ours, and I still have some ammunition to use on the man.

~Sadie sighs. She never wanted to be involved in this in the first place, but when it comes down to it, she loves the PMV Ranch just as much as Vaughn, if not more. She's been the force behind keeping the ranch growing, allowing Vaughn to focus on wrestling while building his dream business. Vaughn notes her concern and steps over, putting an arm around her shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: Look, Sadie. This is all going to work out. I'll make sure and get it fixed, okay? I'll contact my sources at the police station, see what they can do. Just trust me, it's going to be fine. Alright?

Sadie Anderson: I'm just worried, Peter. You know how devious that Judd Harrison is. He's probably already trying to work this to his advantage, whether he knows about Anthony or not.

Peter Vaughn: True. Which is why I'm going to get on this right away.

Sadie Anderson: But... but what about the trial? Don't you have to be there??

Peter Vaughn: Technically, there just needs to be a representative of the PMV Ranch. You certainly fit that description.

~Vaughn gives Sadie a confident shake, before releasing his hug and stepping away. Sadie seems to appreciate the show of support by her fiance, although she's still uncertain that the trial won't be affected. Vaughn, though, is puzzled by another matter.~

Peter Vaughn: So you said there was additional security around Augustus' safe? Why do you suppose that is?

Sadie Anderson: I have no clue. You'd think it'd just have money in it or some paperwork...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah... well, it's something to think about, anyway. Alright, I'll go take care of it. Rain check on the lunch?

Sadie Anderson: Always.

~The two share a deep kiss, showing their bond, something Vaughn never thought would be possible for someone like him. He breaks away from her reluctantly, nodding to her, before heading down the stairs. Sadie takes a deep breath, somewhat calmer, as she watches him go. She then heads back through the door, towards the courtroom, although there's still plenty of time. But she needs to let their lawyer know what's going on. We cut away.~


Everyone's got at least one weakness.

For some, it's drugs or alcohol. For guys like Jenkins, it's a unstoppable craving for gambling away their money. You can struggle with addictions to the Internet, to cigarettes, even to escape rooms. I heard this one guy had visited every escape room in his state multiple times, until they all started to ban him, and he went a little nuts. He probably tried to escape from jail after that. Let's face it, he'd been training for it for quite a long time, hadn't he?

But I digress. For someone like you, Milo, the weaknesses are a little less obvious. They don't stand out as a neon light. But they're there, nonetheless, a soft glow in the darkness. Maybe like fireflies, floating through the night. Now I know, Milo, you're not going to accept what I say here. You're going to have a strong urge to deny every point I make, refusing to see any of them as credible. But when I'm victorious over you once again, I want you to rewatch this promo and take it to heart, okay?

Let's start with the clearest one to me. It's the fact that you, Milo, aren't willing to go the extra mile when it comes to being a champion. The most recent example of this happened two Climax Controls ago. You see, I respect Rodrigo Afonso, even though I've beaten him multiple times. But when you walked out, trying to act unbothered by my win, I had to send a message to you. That's why Afonso had to go down one more time, left laid out as a representation to you. I knew it would get into your head, and I was right.

You had the opportunity, Milo, to return the message to me, and I would have respected it. After all, you were fighting Justin Smith, a guy I have absolutely zero respect for. But what did you do, when given the opportunity? You shook his hand. After he had let you down, failing to test you and help you prepare for someone like me, you let him off from the punishment he deserved.

Believe me, that was a disappointing sight, Miles. And not just to me. Did you hear the crowd when you shook his hand? Sure, some gave you cheers, but many felt disgusted by your actions. It wasn't just me. You lost some supporters with that simple gesture. It just showed everyone that you still haven't let go of your scruples. You still want to be seen as this amazing good guy, someone that people can look up to.

That is so 1980's. Wrestling has changed, boyo.

This is a major drawback for you, Milo. You have to be willing to do what it takes to retain the championship, if you want your reign to make record lengths. But you're soft. I hate to say that, but it's true. And that softness is an incredible weakness that can't just be fixed with a pill.

And that's not your only weakness, Milo. How about the fact that you've proven unwilling to divert from your high-flying plans in the ring? The viewers know that I've been able to adapt to any situation. You can't survive in the Roulette Division without being able to change things on the fly. I've trained to win in the air, on the ground, or using any weapons that happen to be nearby. I've even gotten some victories with a quick roll-up, just to prove I could. Every victory counts, after all, and that's all that mattered to me: being the one with his hand raised at the end of the night.

But what happens to you, Milo, when you can't quite pull off that 450? When the Blast From The Past isn't working for you? Do you move to Plans B, C, and D? Or do you keep trying your best moves, wanting them desperately to be your ticket to a win? Against a man like me, you've got to be able to adjust your battle plan. It's the only way I can be taken down. But I've never seen that from you, Milo. You come in dead-set to win the way you want to win, and when that can't happen... you lose.

It's a sight we've seen in the past, isn't it? And a sight I'm betting we'll see again, very, very soon.

But let's talk about your final weakness, Milo. It's a weakness that the two of us actually share, to be perfectly honest with you: we're both cocky.

I'll come into every match assuming I'm going to win, and I know you do the same. I mean, I don't see that as a major drawback, as confidence is key when you want to be the best. But here's the difference between us, Milo: I've got years and years of success to back up that cockiness. I have twelve World Heavyweight Title reigns and counting, over half a dozen federations. I've done it all in this business, and I'm just getting started.

And let's not forget the multiple victories I have over you. Those are important as well.

So I have every right to be cocky coming into this contest. But what about you? Are you coming in self-assured that THIS will be the time you plant the Mechanic into the canvas? Will you show Sin City that you actually deserve them being behind you, in a contest against a man like me? I'm fully expecting you to make our match the all-star affair of the night, the showstealer that blows the minds of the wrestling fans in attendance and the millions watching around the world.

But if you ask me, you don't deserve the right to be cocky... until you've become a winner. Let's face it, you need this victory 100 times more than I do, because you'll always be seen as an also-ran to me otherwise. So you should be coming in cautious and feeling the pressure, not as an egotistical, self-absorbed champ. But I don't think you'll manage it. I think you'll come in thinking, "I have the title, which means I'm better". And that's going to backfire on you like a Buick running on leaded gas.

And at the end of our contest, Milo, assuming you're still conscious, you'll have to look up and realize that you shouldn't have come into our contest thinking that you could beat me however you wanted. Once the credits have rolled, and you make your way to the back, you may never be cocky again.

That's what happens, Milo, when you take the Plunge.


~As Sadie is explaining to a flabbergasted Elisa that Vaughn has been 'called away' for the rest of the day, we catch Vaughn as he exits the courthouse, heading for his truck. He's already on the phone, waiting for a response.~

Sergeant Powell: Vaughny! How's your day going, player?

Peter Vaughn: Making the most out of life as always, Sergeant. How are you doing? I heard they dropped the charges against you.

Sergeant Powell: They had no choice when they saw that video you found. They were worried I was going to leak it to TMZ. And hell, I kept a copy, so I still might! Hah hah hah!

Peter Vaughn: That would certainly embarrass the senator, although that's probably not trouble you need, my friend. So listen, you happen to know anyone over in holding?

Sergeant Powell: Uh oh. Who got popped? I guess not you, unless you're using your one phone call on me, and let me tell you, that'd be a mistake!

~Vaughn forces a fake laugh out of his throat. Since it's over the phone, he doesn't have to worry about the correct facial mannerisms. He just has to make it SOUND real.~

Peter Vaughn: No, it's not me. I'm trying to check on a person I'm somewhat loosely affiliated with. A man named Anthony Jenkins. Got himself in a little trouble trying to look at his brother-in-law's safe, really stupid stuff, to be honest. You'd think family would just drop the charge, you know?

Sergeant Powell: Too true. But family does what family does. You want me to contact them for you, see what's going on?

Peter Vaughn: if you could, I'd be truly appreciative.  And, uh, if you could keep my name out of it?

Sergeant Powell: Of course. I'll let you know what's happening. Makes you just want to get into a ring and punch a guy, right? Hah!

Peter Vaughn: You're a funny guy, Sargeant. I'll give you a call later. Thanks a lot.

Sergeant Powell: No probem.

~Vaughn hangs up the phone as he gets into his favorite truck, Gabriella. He gives her a friendly pat, then goes to start her up. There's a strange noise, which catches Vaughn's attention. He listens closely, wondering if something's wrong with his baby... when he realizes that the sound is coming from the glove box. He pops it open, finding the burner phone he had stashed in there. He quickly flips it open.~

Peter Vaughn: That you, Cliff?

Cliff Sterling: Where have you been, man?? I've been trying to reach you for 30 minutes now!!

Peter Vaughn: Well, you've got me now. What's going on? Did you find anything out working with Judd Harrison's boys?

Cliff Sterling: Look, I don't have a lot of time to talk. They're searching for me.

Peter Vaughn: They're what??

Cliff Sterling: I'm hiding now, but I don't think it'll be long. I can't get off the property.

~Vaughn sits up, a more serious expression on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Talk to me, Cliff. Tell me where you need me to go.

Cliff Sterling: There's no time, boss. Just listen. I overheard Harrison talking to his boys. He's got the trial rigged. It's all a set-up, him and the judge. I've left some paperwork where you can find it. You need to get to...

~Suddenly, there are shouts over the line, sounding like "There he is!" and "Get 'em!" There are sounds of a scuffle, and punches being thrown. Vaughn listens intently, hoping that Cliff is able to get away, but a few seconds later, the men can be heard saying they've got him. Another voice shouts out "Break that phone!", and a final crash is heard... followed by the silence of a lost connection. Vaughn sits there for a moment, staring at the phone, before dropping it onto the seat next to him. He looks from left to right, considering his options.~

Peter Vaughn: Looks like I've got a lot to take care of this afternoon. Should be fun.

~Vaughn slams Gabriella into gear, then peels out of the parking lot of the courthouse. He heads down the street, already formulating what he needs to do next, as we slowly fade out.~


A Mechanic's work is never done, apparently.

There's something to be said when you're known to be able to fix any problem. It feels like this just causes the problems to grow larger in the long run. But that's okay. I enjoy challenges. I wouldn't keep coming back to Sin City if I didn't. After all, the wrestlers here are some of the toughest I've encountered throughout my time in the business. To prove that I'm one of the best here makes a big statement to the wrestling world, a statement I'm always looking to get shouted from the rooftops.

And that's why I don't want to completely discredit you, Milo.

I talked about your weaknesses, and I fully believe in them. But I don't want to disvalue your strengths. You're a former Roulette and current Internet champion, after all. I've watched your talents grow over the year I've been here, and you're certainly not one to be discounted. You are an impressive high-flyer, even if you rely on it too much. It's gotten you some strong victories, to be sure.

I'm not coming into this match thinking it'll be a breeze. On the contrary, I think it'll be an incredible match. We'll tear the whole Walkup Skydome down to its foundation, giving the Blaze of Glory crowd a war they'll remember for the rest of their lives. Weaknesses or not, I know you're going to be great.

I'm just going to be greater.

Everything you can pull off, I'm going to make look better. Every maneuver that you think is technically sound, I'm going to put to shame. Every time the referee turns his back, well, you're just going to ignore him... while I'm going to take advantage. That's just the way things are going to work, Milo. I take everything up another level, because if I didn't, I couldn't say I'm one of the best in the world.

I'm going to be the Internet Champion. I'm going to use it as a stepping stone all the way to the top of Sin City. And the world will know that I'm deserving of my place here. If it means I knock you further down the ladder because of it, well, that's a price I'm willing to pay.

Get ready to swing, batter, batter, swing.

Strike three is coming your way.

You're out. And I'm in.

See you soon.


13
Climax Control Archives / Plans Within Plans...
« on: March 22, 2024, 07:24:41 PM »
~As the picture comes up, we find ourselves in a older pick-up truck, driving forward over a few large bumps before we make the final turn off the main road and head up a 'drive-way', if that's what you want to call it. The truck passes by a large sign displayed above, declaring this the Harrison Ranch, one of the oldest ranches in Texas. The truck comes to a stop near the main building, as a couple of men walk out onto the front porch. They are ready to protect the homestead, as both of them are ready to draw their revolvers if needed. But the man gets out of the truck calmly, nodding to them, before stepping around and reaching into the back of his truck. He pulls out a large duffel bag, throwing it over one shoulder, before turning back. At the doorway, another man has appeared, pushing past the two guardians and walking forward with a slimy smile on his face.~

Judd Harrison: Well, howdy there young feller. I suppose you're our new hand, coming in to replace Jebidiah? I tell you what, it's a complete mystery as to what he was doing riding around on his horse past midnight, nor what caused the horse to throw him and break his leg. It's going to take him months to get himself back on his feet. But I'm rambling on. My name's Judd Harrison, and I'm the owner of the Harrison Ranch. It's good to meet you, uh...

~Judd hesitates, his mind temporarily blanking on the new recruit's name. But the man quickly puts him at ease, reaching out and shaking his hand.~

Cliff: It's Cliff. Cliff Sterling. Good to meet you, sir.

~Judd nods, his memory refreshed, as he concludes the handshake with the man. Cliff gives him a confident grin, keeping his duffel bag hoisted over one shoulder. Judd shakes his hand, as if feeling the sting.~

Judd Harrison: Quite a grip you've got there, son. Mitch, please show Cliff where he can store his bag there, and then we can start getting him settled in on how we do things around here.

~Mitch, still looking wary, nods, moving past Cliff, who follows behind him. For those who remember seeing Cliff recently, as a member of the PMV Ranch, all we can say is, explanations will come in time. For now, we'll cut away from this scene...~


~As the picture switches out, we now find ourselves as the Dallas County Courthouse. The camera walks through the halls, recording as it makes its way through the building. The camera stops at one open doorway, filming around the edge, as we see the legal process going on inside. On one side, we can see a stack of lawyers, all representing Michaels, Manning, & Associates. The big firms can never help bringing too many lawyers to any event, if only to show off their power. On the other side, we see Peter Vaughn sitting with his counsel, an older woman who is currently on her feet, talking with the male judge up ahead.~

Elisa Dartum: And as I said, Judge, there is absolutely no evidence for any of these claims against my client and his business. We've offered already into evidence the contracts that Mr. Vaughn here signed with Samuel Raymeth, transferring over the deed to the land where the PMV Ranch is currently stationed. It was all done fair and above board, as the paperwork shows. So any claim that the land is not legitimately Mr. Vaughn's is absolutely absurd, and this case should be thrown out with prejudice.

Judge Trebur: I understand you'd like to win this case today, Ms. Dartum, but this is just a preliminary hearing, as you well know. Let's keep the strong outbursts to a minimum, please.

~Dartum flushes, but holds her tongue, even as Vaughn just shakes his head. The judge turns to the other side, staring at them.~

Judge Trebur: Now, I do have to say, Mr. Michaels, the evidence that you have submitted to the court so far is very slim for this claim. I trust that you have more to show us in the coming weeks?

~The lawyer addressed gets to his feet, straightening his suit as he does so.~

Mr. Michaels: Yes, your honor. We just require the usual time for discovery that is normally granted to cases like this, so we can make sure all our ducks are in the row. But we are very confident that this case will show that Mr. Vaughn used trickery and deception to steal away that land, and that his deal should be voided immediately, with penalties given to the Raymeth family for his shocking deeds.

Judge Trebur: Just as I told Ms. Dartum, sir, there is no need for excited statements at this time. For now, I believe we will give you two more weeks to organize. You're a large firm, I'm sure that's more than enough time. We'll reconvene here on April 4th. Good day, gentlemen, miss.

~The judge ends the hearing, as the groups both get up, putting away their paperwork. Vaughn, with nothing to put together himself, gets up and turns, heading up the aisleway. He still looks lost in thought, but his face brightens when he sees the cameraman waiting for him. He heads out of the courtroom, waving for the cameraman to follow him. They head down the hall and to a set of stairs, going upwards until we find ourselves on the roof of the courthouse. There, Vaughn takes a few deep breaths of air before turning towards the now-winded cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: It's good to see you, friend. Glad you found us, and almost right on time, too. Very good.

Cameraman: So why... the roof? Why not... the parking lot?

Peter Vaughn: I needed some fresh air.

Cameraman: But... there's fresh air... in the parking lot... too...

Peter Vaughn: Eh, this air's fresher. Just take a few good gulps of air, you'll be okay.

~The cameraman does as he's told, managing to get his breathing under control after the climb up the stairs. Cameras aren't light, you know? After a few moments pass, Vaughn steps up with a foot on the edge, looking out across Dallas from this historic building.~

Peter Vaughn: Never thought I'd find myself here. Well, okay, that's not true. I assumed at some point I'd be either sued or jailed. That just seems to happen to wrestlers now and again, and hey, I've been arrested before, after all. But I can't say I ever thought they'd be trying to take my ranch away from me.

Cameraman: I still don't get it. You have all the paperwork. Why do they think they have a case against you?

Peter Vaughn: Let's just say that they've got a backer who wants them to succeed. A rival I've gone against before. With him in the game, well, anything's possible.

Cameraman: Are you talking about Judd Harrison?

~Vaughn winces, then does a shushing motion to the cameraman, unhappy to hear that name.~

Peter Vaughn: You're not supposed to know that. Can you edit that out?

Cameraman: Uh... sure... sure...

~The camera nods slightly along with the cameraman... even though he knows he has no intention of editing a word. He never has, and it's not like he's going to start now. But Vaughn still seems satisfied, turning back to the view.~

Peter Vaughn: I've worked so hard over the last year to build things up, and yet now here we are, with people trying to tear it all down. This lawsuit is going after my ranch, and Miles Kasey is going after my Sin City legacy. It's rather despicable, really, how hard they're coming after me.

Cameraman: Kasey is coming after you?

Peter Vaughn: Who else do you think it is, arranging for me to face Rodrigo Afonso again? I'm sure Miles would like nothing better than to have me softened up before our match at Blaze of Glory. He probably begged them to give me some competition, and who better than the "Golden Briefcase Boy"? I mean... okay, there are probably several guys who would have been better, admittedly, but Afonso at least has a bit of a name to himself now. That makes him a threat, at least, I think so...

~Vaughn thinks it over for a second, and then nods, agreeing with himself.~

Peter Vaughn: It just makes sense that Kasey is afraid of me. After all, I have the record for the longest reign as the Roulette Champion. I'm set to do the same for the Internet Championship. So Miles is arranging for every old nemesis of mine to get in my way. First it was Barnhart, who I handily wiped the floor with, and now it's Roddy, who I've fought twice before. But Miles' plan is going to fail. I'm going to keep leveling every wrestler put in my path, until I have that Internet Title in my grasp, becoming a Sin City Champion once again.

Cameraman: Do you feel like, uh, this legal issue you're dealing with is going to distract you any? I mean, this is a pretty big deal, having your property threatened like this.

Peter Vaughn: It won't be a problem, boyo. I keep my business and wrestling lives completely separate. When I'm inside the squared circle, I compartmentalize everything, so that I only focus on the opponent standing in front of me. So when I enter the ring and lock eyes with Rodrigo, I'll be 100% focused on kicking his ass.

~Vaughn's hands flex, as if visualizing getting his hands on his adversary. But then he lowers them again, shaking his head, before turning back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: You know better than most, my friend, how hard I've worked since coming to Sin City and making a name for myself. I won't let anyone take my gains away from me. Not Rodrigo. Not Miles. Not even Finn or Goth. I'm still on an upward trajectory, and I'm going to prove that by tearing right through Afonso and leaving that briefcase laying on the ground with a brand new dent in the side. I can guarantee it.

~Vaughn's phone gives a chime, catching his attention. He looks at the screen, reading the text message, and then nods, looking back at the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I'm going to need to get going, I'm afraid. I still have a few things to take care of today, to keep my plans moving forward.

Cameraman: Your plans? What do you mean, your plans?

Peter Vaughn: Sorry, but those are rather need-to-know, and, well, your viewers don't need to know, which means I can't tell you. But trust me... it's going to come together beautifully.

~With a slight smirk, Vaughn walks past the cameraman, heading back inside the courthouse. The cameraman watches him go, then lets out a long sigh.~

Cameraman: All those stairs just for that? Man... I hope there's an elevator on the top floor, I don't want to trudge all the way back down.

~The cameraman moves, heading for the doorway, as we fade out once more.~


~As the shot brightens up once again, we find a nervous-looking gentleman sitting in what appears to be a small restaurant, one that many would refer to as a "hole in the wall". Sometimes, though, that's where you can find the best-tasting food in town. The man doesn't seem to interested, though, as he anxiously glances over the menu, as if barely seeing anything on it. He finally turns to the bored-looking waitress with a sigh.~

Man: Look, just give me the club sandwich, okay? But make sure no tomatoes, please, I hate those.

~The waitress just rolls her eyes, but she takes down the order easily enough before walking off. The man takes a drink from the soda in front of him, his hand shaking slightly, but he gets it under control before putting the glass back down.~

Man: Calm down, Anthony. I'm sure this is all going to work out. There's nothing worth being nervous about...

Sadie Anderson: Mr. Jennings?

Man: Agghhh!!!

~The man nearly jumps out of his shoes before turning towards the startled woman standing nearby. Sadie looks him over, giving him a chance to breath before answering.~

Anthony Jennings: Umm... yes, I'm Mr. Jennings, I mean, I'm Anthony, yes. Ms. Anderson?

Sadie Anderson: Yes, that's me. Can I have a seat, Mr. Jennings?

Anthony Jennings: ... Sure.

~Sadie sits down on the other side of the table. She signals to the waitress, who annoyedly comes back over, expecting this to take a while. But Sadie is nothing if not succinct.~

Sadie Anderson: I'll have the Reuben with a fruit salad side, and a Diet Coke. Thank you.

~The waitress nods, impressed, before walking off. Sadie then turns towards the nervous man in front of her, trying to convey calmness with her smile. As the fiancé of Peter Vaughn, Sadie has learned to keep her cool over the last year, because you never know what's coming next.~

Anthony Jennings: So... you said this is about... my brother-in-law? Augustus Raymeth?

Sadie Anderson: That's right. Mr. Jennings. But it's also about you. I know you've been having some... financial issues due to your love of the WinStar Casino in Gainesville. You've been there many times lately, haven't you? With, unfortunately, very little to show for it other than your debts?

Anthony Jennings: If that's what this is all about, let me assure you, I fully plan to make good on all my debts. Trust me, I know it won't be easy, but there's no reason for any of this to escalate to anything... violent.

~Anthony takes a deep gulp from his drink, his hand beginning to shake more now. But Sadie just shakes her head, reaching across to take his hand.~

Sadie Anderson: You're misreading this situation completely, Mr. Jennings. Yes, it's true that our business has... acquired the debt you owe. But we're not a collection agency. In fact, we're giving you quite the opportunity, if I do say so myself. An opportunity to wipe the slate clean, without involving your wife in the matter. She... doesn't know anything about your gambling debts, does she? That's why we were meeting here, instead of at your apartment?

~After a moment, Anthony nods, looking disheartened.~

Anthony Jennings: It would break her heart.

Sadie Anderson: Well, there's no need for that to happen, Mr. Jennings. Can I call you Anthony?

Anthony Jennings: ... Yes.

Sadie Anderson: Anthony, it's very simple. You need to have your debts paid off. And we, well, we need someone who can get on the inside of Augustus' business affairs. I do believe we can truly help one another, which means there's no need for your life to face any changes. We just need your eyes and ears. Are you interested?

~Anthony picks up his glass once more, finishing its contents as he thinks it over. He then puts the glass down, hard.~

Anthony Jennings: I never liked Augustus anyway. If it will help me out of this mess... I'm yours. I'll even break into his safe if you need it. I know the combination, he foolishly opened it in front of me once.

Sadie Anderson: Yes, well... you never know. Maybe we can make sure of those skills of yours too.

~Slightly calmer now, Anthony signals for another drink, as Sadie sits back, getting out her phone and sending off a text. She looks a little uneasy with what she's having to do, but when it comes to the safety of the PMV Ranch, she's willing to do whatever it takes. The two continue to talk, as their food is brought over by the grumpy waitress.~


It's amazing sometimes, the hoops you have to jump through in order to plan accordingly.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love to put together strategies when it comes to obstacles in my life. I am not one to have one plan and improvise afterwards. Usually, improvisation only comes after Plan D or E, at least. There are always multiple ways to be successful, and you need to be willing to embrace all alternatives if you want to grab that brass ring.

Or that gold one. That's the ring I prefer.

So, Roddy, are you going to have a new plan when we face off again? Do you have an ultimate strategy in mind to survive The Mechanic, somehow taking me down this time when you've fallen to me twice now in SCW? Let's see, the first one was in September of last year, wasn't it? At Climax Control, fighting for my Roulette Championship? We had ourselves a classic bar brawl, and, well, it ended pretty poorly for you, didn't it? I mean, you probably weren't horribly scarred afterwards, but still, it was a tough loss for you, I bet.

So you got your rematch at High Stakes 13, your second chance to take my championship from me. I think we were both surprised when the roulette wheel came across onto a Submissions match. Honestly, I thought that left us pretty even, as I'm not known as a submissions specialist by any means. You had your chance to knock me unconscious and slap on a simple hold, and the ref would have given you the win.

Instead, I made you pass out to the triangle choke, and the ref threw in the towel for you.

You didn't tap out, which I have to give you credit for. I respect that you were unwilling to give up, refusing in spite of what was probably your best option to preserve brain cells. You fought so hard to escape that you probably kept fighting when you woke up from the smelling salts, assuming the contest was still going. But it was over, Roddy, and I had already gone off for my victory shake.

Protein shakes keep us going, don't they?

So this will be your third chance, Rods. Your third opportunity. Some would say, your third strike. Do you feel like the odds are against you now? Or do you feel stronger, knowing what the contest is going to be before we enter the building? Do you believe the same as Barnhart did that a straight-up match gives you better odds against me? Because I proved him wrong for sure, and I'll likely do the same for you if you come in with that attitude. It's never wise to underestimate a guy like me, no matter the style of match.

After all, as I told Bulldog, I've won most of my World Championships in regular singles contests.

I don't need gimmicks to win.

Still, you've got an idol to look up to, don't you, Roddy? You have Eddie Lyons, who lost to me repeatedly before finally managing to get the championship away from me in a Triple Threat match. Lyons found a way to continuously improve, and he showed that he's got a touch of greatness in him. The man's got a hell of a future ahead of him. But are you the same, Afonso? Does the fact that you're carrying around that briefcase mean that you might have a bright future ahead of you?

Or has it all been a case of miraculous luck and stumbling, dumbfounded foes that you faced off against?

I suppose I'll find out soon enough how much you've improved. In our first two contests, I ruled the ring and ended your hopes and dreams. This time? I'll put you through another examination, and see if you end up exactly the same as you have before. Will you give me a stronger test? Because, you know, that's actually what I want. I'm trying to improve myself too, you know. I want to be one of, if not THE best wrestler in Sin City, and the way to get there is to continue to rack up victories against everyone I face.

I want you to test me, Roddy. I want you to be improved from your former self.

And I want to still annihilate you, wiping your face into the mat and setting you up to take an ultimate Plunge.

Because you may hold that golden briefcase, but I'm the holder of my own destiny. There's nothing you can do to stop me from cashing in on it, and making my way to the top.

But don't worry. I'll leave you the case. And your life.

I can't promise anything else.


~We return to live action as Peter Vaughn is seen crossing the street, watching out for a passing police car before continuing forward. He heads inside the local police branch, walking up to the counter.~

Clerk: Can I help you, sir?

Peter Vaughn: Yes, I have an appointmen with Sargeant Powell?

Clerk: Down the hall and to the right, sir. Have a good afternoon.

Peter Vaughn: Thank you.

~Vaughn walks on, following the directions, and he quickly finds the office he's looking for, knocking on the door. The man behind the desk looks up, seeing Vaughn, and immediately a smile breaks out on his face.~

Sergeant Powell: Vaughny! As I live and breathe!

~The man jumps up, greeting Vaughn with a tight handshake, followed by a semi-forced hug. Vaughn isn't normally one to allow such displays of emotion, but he accepts it this time, nodding to his 'old friend' before moving back to his desk and taking a seat on the other side.~

Sergeant Powell: How long's it been?

Peter Vaughn: Not long enough...

~Powell looks up, but Vaughn's got a grin on his face, so Powell just laughs it off and accepts it as his weird sense of humor. Vaughn sounded sincere, though, but you never know with him.~

Sergeant Powell: So what can I do for you?

Peter Vaughn: Well, Sargeant...

Sergeant Powell: Oh, please, call me Darrell, man...

Peter Vaughn: Darrell... okay. Well, Darrell, I've heard that they've got you working on some loose files over here. Some involving... property disputes.

~The sergeant scowls for a moment, looking over at a stack of files sitting nearby, virtually untouched.~

Sergeant Powell: Yeah... ever since I got into that fight with that senator's kid, they keep putting me on deskwork. It's frustrating, but what can you do? The guy's got more power than I do, after all.

Peter Vaughn: So I hear. Of course, his son's a snot-nosed wimp, isn't he? I heard you beat him down easily.

Sergeant Powell: Yeah, he fell like a featherweight. In fact, he went down TOO easily, because that's what led him to say I ambushed him. He threw the first punch, but his friends were his witnesses, and my body camera footage got... lost. A computer glitch, they told me.

~Vaughn nods sympathetically, knowing that Powell's career has been pretty much trash since that day.~

Peter Vaughn: So what if the footage from that night was... restored? Do you think it would help you out?

Sergeant Powell: What are you talking about? I told you, it's gone. Kaput. Vanished. I'm sure it was completely wiped from existence.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, yes, I'm sure the body camera footage is no more. But did you ever think to check the nearby club where this happened? They happened to have a few cameras there... and one of them, from what I've seen, catches the fight.

~The sergeant's eyes widen, as he thinks over what Vaughn is saying.~

Sergeant Powell: You have this footage?

Peter Vaughn: I do.

Sergeant Powell: And... you'd give it to me?

Peter Vaughn: Of course. I mean, we're friends, right? And friends look out for each other?

~Slowly, Powell's head nods. But he knows something else is coming, if only judging from the smile on Vaughn's face. He knows the guy, after all.~

Sergeant Powell: I suppose friends are known for doing that...

~Vaughn then leans forward, checking the doorway for a second to make sure nobody's standing there.~

Peter Vaughn: And if, say, a 'friend' might be needing a few files regarding some ongoing investigations...

Sergeant Powell: ... Then I suppose a friend will get what he needs. After all, what are friends for?

~Vaughn grins, as Powell nods to him. Vaughn then pulls out a flash drive from his pocket, putting it in front of the man.~

Peter Vaughn: I wish you the best in taking that senator's family down. I didn't vote for him. He's a scumbag.

~Vaughn then gets up, leaving the way he came in, as Sergeant Powell picks up the drive. It could be his salvation... or he may have just made a deal with the devil. Time will tell.~


Sometimes preparation is the key.

I always gather as much information as I can in preparing for a wrestling contest. It doesn't matter if I've faced the man before numerous times, I always want to refresh my memory and make sure I'm ready for him. So I've reread your file, Roddy, researching about your X Games past and making sure I know what to expect as the competition comes my way.

I can't say anything stood out, really. You're many things, Rods, but forgettable is not one of them.

Still, I've got your skillset locked into my head now. I know our similar styles are going to make this a match to remember for the Climax Control crowd. You're going to try and break out that moonsault senton, the suicide dives, and anything else that you think is worth it in order to defeat me. I'm going to come at you with both technical and high-flying assaults, trying to keep you off-balance and enable me to sneak in with Revenged or the Keyholder, putting you down for the 1-2-3.

Or I'll just leap onto you for the Plunge, that works too.

And sure, the referee will be strictly watching us, making sure we follow the rules. You won't be able to use your skateboard. I most likely will not be able to use any Windex or wrenches... unless the referee happens to get distracted. I mean, you never know. There might be a pretty face in the front row. Or he might accidentally get nailed in the crossfire, leaving an opening.

Things happen.

But honestly, Roddy, I don't see it going that direction. I think I can defeat you straight up, with no trickery involved other than what the referee lets me get away with. When it comes down to it, in my mind, I'm just better than you. But I don't mean that derogatory towards you. Not at all. I just tend to think I'm better than everyone. It's the wrestler's mentality that has led to so many victories for me, and I don't see that stopping this week.

If you manage it, though? If you find a way to steal away the win, taking your first triumph over me in three attempts? I mean, props to you, my friend. I'll honor that victory, just like I gave the respect to Eddie. All you have to do, boyo, is keep my shoulders on the mat for 3 little seconds.

I'm betting you can't do it. But it's all up to you.

Get the win, or take the Plunge. The only two options available.

I'll see you there, Roddy. See you there.
 

14
Climax Control Archives / A New Battlefield...
« on: March 08, 2024, 11:30:24 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up on the outside of a multi-story building. The drone focuses on the side of the building, where we can see “Michaels, Manning, & Associates, Attorneys at Law”. The drone then flies upwards, going up floor after floor, until it focuses on the windows with lights coming on. The drone seems to fly right through a window (which must have been open), turning to show the two men walking into the room. They’re both security guards, with the first man having drawn his weapon, pointing it forward.~

Guard #1: I’m telling you, I heard something.

Guard #2: And I’m telling you, you’ve been watching too many movies. And what are you going to do with that, spice up your dinner? C’mon, man…

~The second guard grabs his friend’s arm, pushing down the pepper spray so it doesn’t face downwind of them. The first guard shakes his head, before walking further down the hallway, looking in both directions.~

Guard #1: You don’t take this job seriously enough, Evan. We have to be on guard all the time. Constant vigilance!

Guard #2: Yeah, right. For the rates they’re paying me, they’re lucky I’m out here walking around. It’s not like anyone would want to break in here anyway. What’s there to find at a real estate lawyers’ office? Now, that corporate lawyer down the street, he probably has stolen cash stashed everywhere.

Guard #1: NOW who’s watched too many movies?

~The two men give a final look around, checking the doors in the hallway. Surprisingly, one of the handles turns, catching both by surprise. The first guard raises his pepper spray again.~

Guard #1: One… Two… THREE!!

!The door swings open, with the first guard charging in… and finding nothing. Just the usual desktop computer and bookshelves you’d see in any office. He glances under the desk, just to be sure, but there’s nobody. He turns back, his head down, scratching his scalp.~

Guard #1: Guess one of the paralegals forgot to lock up. We’ll have to note that in our report.

~The second guard is still standing outside the room, smirking. The first guard steps out towards him, finally realizing where he is.~

Guard #1: Wait, you didn’t follow me in there? What if there was a gunman?

Guard #2: Then I would have been down the hall in a flash, using your body as a shield. But there’s nobody here, Gary! This is the most boring job in the world! At least it should be, without you trying to turn it into an episode of NCIS or something. We’re not high-tech security guards, and this isn’t the Pentagon. Nothing ever happens here.

~The first guard shakes his head, almost disappointed, as he shuts the door behind him. The camera, still in the room with him, slowly zooms upwards, showing above the doorway… where Peter Vaughn is hanging there, supporting his weight across the two walls. He lets out a slow sigh, still hanging on in case they come back. Although he’s not making any noise, Vaughn’s voice can be heard laid over what’s happening.~

Peter Vaughn: You’re probably wondering what’s brought me to the situation I find myself in today. Well, I’d like to say it’s a funny story. But, actually… it’s not. Well, okay, me ending up on the ceiling doing my best Tom Holland is a LITTLE humorous. You think I could have a future in the movies after wrestling? You never know, right? But for now, let’s go back to what caused me to be a wallcrawler.

~Vaughn takes another deep breath, trying to readjust his hands… and slips, falling out of view. We hear a thud, but thankfully, wrestlers are taught how to fall. The picture cuts to black.~


One Day Earlier

~As the picture comes back up, we now find ourselves on the PMV Ranch, the pride and joy of one Peter Vaughn. It’s taken a lot of work to build this ranch up from the ground up, through a lot of sweat, blood, and tears, He sunk his entire winnings from the Roth Tournament victory into it, fighting against the traditional powers that be, who didn’t want a new player showing up in their business. Vaughn didn’t care. He didn’t back down, and now the PMV Ranch was being talked about as one of the fastest growing ranches in Texas. But Vaughn isn’t satisfied. Not yet.~

~The camera takes us into one of the storage sheds on the ranch, where Vaughn is lying next to a large, old-school tractor. He’s twisting his ratchet underneath, locking another piece in place, before pulling himself back up. He readjusts something on the top, then, satisfied, steps to the front of the tractor and presses a button. The engine fires up, sounding extremely powerful… way too powerful, really, for an older tractor. Vaughn smiles… but his smile fades as the engine slowly comes to a choppy stop.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn.

Sadie Anderson: Serves you right, trying to put a Corvette motor into a John Deere tractor.

~Vaughn looks up, surprised, as Sadie walks into the room. She smiles at her fiance, as he shrugs his shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: Actually, it’s from a Mustang. But I understand the confusion.

Sadie Anderson: Whatever the reason, a tractor doesn’t need that much torque. And really, we don’t need a tractor, anyway. We have the horses to get around, remember?

~Vaughn chuckles, as he leans over, making a few more adjustments to the engine.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh, this has nothing to do with transportation. That's not what we need a tractor for.

Sadie Anderson: Huh? Why else would you be working on this?

Peter Vaughn: To get it working hard enough so we can plow some fields.

~Vaughn reaches deeper inside, grabbing at something we can't see, as Sadie's eyebrows shoot up to the top of her brow.~

Sadie Anderson: You don't mean... actual crops? Out here?

Peter Vaughn: Once I'm done, this tractor will have more than enough power to plow down the land to the east, carving it up so we can use it.

Sadie Anderson: Peter... I love you, but you want us to become... farmers?

~Vaughn pulls his hand free, shaking it for a moment. He probably touched a still-hot section, slightly burning himself. He looks back at Sadie, still smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: You act like it's a huge shock. We have a ranch. Why not farm it as well?

Sadie Anderson: Maybe because, oh, I don't know, the soil around here stinks? What do you think would grow out this way?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I have a few ideas on that. I've got someone working on it right now. Look, before you shoot it down outright, let me explain my reasoning.

~Sadie steps back, her arms crossed, as if saying "This ought to be good". Vaughn, meanwhile, keeps talking while tinkering, showing he's able to multitask.~

Peter Vaughn: There's a lot of revenue in adding farming to the ranch. The price of vegetables have been skyrocketing lately, and we would be able to cut out the price of shipping for the Dallas consumer. If we can make it work, we'd also have plenty of crops that could be used for our cattle & other animals, saving us money on food processing fees. We would really earn funds on both sides of the equation. It's a win/win.

Sadie Anderson: Uh huh. And how much of this explanation is to cover the fact that you're doing it all just to soup up a tractor?

~Sadie shakes her head as Vaughn finishes one more adjustment, turning and hitting the button once again. This time, the tractor engine roars to life, and continues on. Vaughn smiles at it, before turning back to Sadie... but with a slightly different, more somber expression on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Did I ever tell you that my grandfather was a farmer? On my mom's side. I can't say I knew him all too well... but I do remember that he was happy in life. He's pretty much what inspired me to get this ranch in the first place. I guess, in some ways... I want to be that happy, too.

~This surprising admission from Vaughn catches Sadie off-guard. She steps forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. Vaughn slowly smiles at her.~

Peter Vaughn: And yes, I want to drive this tractor at a high rate of speed. So sue me.

~Sadie laughs, as Vaughn steps over and turns it off, quieting the room once again. It allows us to hear someone yelling, as both Vaughn and Sadie turn towards the door. Cliff bursts in, looking around.~

Peter Vaughn: What's up, Cliff?

Cliff: Trouble.

~Without another word, Cliff gestures to them and heads back out. Vaughn, confused, hurries after him, with Sadie right behind. They head to the parking area of the ranch, where we can see a mid-size vehicle sitting there. Standing near the car is a well-dressed woman, looking somewhat out of place on a ranch like this. Vaughn walks up to her, showing no fear, as she lowers her sunglasses to look at him.~

Woman: Peter Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: That's me. What can I do for you, Miss?

~Vaughn reaches out a hand, and the woman automatically meets him for a handshake. She then looks down, her eyes widening, as she realizes that Vaughn's hand was covered in grease and oil. The handshake breaks off, with the woman looking disdainfully at the smudges on her hand. She then reaches out with her other hand... handing Vaughn a large envelope.~

Woman: Peter Vaughn... you have been served.

Peter Vaughn: Huh?

~Vaughn, puzzled, looks down at the legal envelope. He quickly opens it, not concerned with getting the contents dirty. He reads quickly, then, stone-faced, hands the letters back to Sadie, who reads through them as well.~

Sadie Anderson: Hold on... this is a claim... to our land?

Woman: All I know is that someone has approached our firm and started a suit, saying that you obtained this land illegally. It should not have been sold to you, since it previously belonged to... someone else.

Peter Vaughn: That's preposterous. I bought this land from the original owner, Sam... something or other. Everything was legitimate. Who's the person making this claim??

Woman: I'm not privy to that information. I'm just the process server, sir. I'm just doing my job.

Peter Vaughn: ... I know you are. You've got to make a living somehow, right? Thanks for coming by.

~Vaughn moves past her, reaching up to pat her on the shoulder on the way by. She stiffens, knowing that she just got a large, greasy handprint on her upper blouse. As the woman steps back to her car, annoyed, Vaughn and Sadie head for the main house, with Cliff behind them.~

Cliff: Sorry, boss. I knew she was trouble.

Peter Vaughn: Don't worry about it. We just need to figure this all out.

Sadie Anderson: This is a frivolous suit. I'm going to call our lawyers. I'm sure they can work everything out. I just can't believe this!

~Vaughn steps to the side, still reading over the documents that they were sent, as Sadie gets on the phone, dialing.~

Peter Vaughn: The real mystery is who's behind this. Why is the plaintiff staying anonymous? We need to find that out, to know what's going on.

Sadie Anderson: I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of that, Peter. Hello? This is Sadie Anderson. Yes, I need to speak to Henry. Thank you.

Peter Vaughn: Hmmm. Michaels, Manning, & Associates. I think I've seen their building...

~Vaughn's eyes gleam, as we've seen before when he's coming up with ideas. Sadie has seen it before, too.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter, don't even think about... whatever you're thinking about. Let's leave this one up to the lawyers, okay?

Peter Vaughn: Sure, Sadie. Sure.

~But the gleam doesn't leave Vaughn's eyes, as he gets up and walks out of the house, leaving Sadie to handle the lawful side of the business. He's got other things on his mind.~


You never know where your next choices are going to take you. Sometimes, when you take that right turn at Albuquerque, you actually find success. And sometimes, when you embark on a completely new journey, you end up at familiar places. Such as facing... Bulldog... Bill... Barnhart.

Billy boy... we meet again. It doesn't seem like I'm able to get away from you, really. Of all the Sin City faithful, I do believe I've fought you the most. I've certainly beaten you the most. You were there right at the beginning of my title reign, actually, you and Malachi. He certainly didn't last, but you, Billy, you can't be stopped, can you, no matter how many times you go down?

Let's see. There was the Ladder match at Into The Void, where I walked away the Roulette Champion, leaving you in the dust. After that, I believe it was the stretcher match, where you thought your superior dead weight would be enough to beat me. A few wraps of duct tape took care of that, making sure that your ass stayed on the stretcher. You failed once again to keep the Roulette Title away from me. You had one more opportunity, though, and it wasn't a high-flying match OR a brute strength match. It was pure luck, the Briefcase Bonanza... and you still failed.

Three strikes usually means you're out, boyo.

But that said, I'm not the Roulette Champion anymore, am I? Which means this is an entirely new game for you. We've fought many times now, Bulldog, but it's never been... normal. This time, it'll be a straight singles match. No weapons for me to use. No speedy ascents up a ladder, and no ridiculous briefcases to open. This time, it's all about the 1-2-3 for us. Maybe you think, hey, I'm a veteran, I'll be able to pin him quickly and show that Peter Vaughn is nothing without Roulette Rules in place. And you're more than welcome to think that.

You're entirely wrong, but by all means, keep thinking like this is going to be easier for you.

You see, I've competed the world over. I've fought in all sorts of matches, it's true, but just like you, the main fights have been one-on-one single pinfall affairs. I have plenty of experience in going where the rules take me, and even though beating you with a simple pin sounds... boring... I've done it to plenty of wrestlers over the years. I have a long, long List of the Vanquished that shows everyone who's fallen to me in the past. And sure, your name is already on there with three checkmarks, but I'm fine with adding a fourth style I can defeat you with.

You know, Billy, actually, you've missed out on some of my best moves, because I haven't had to use them in the confines of our extreme conflicts. I've got a series of maneuvers that all have been successful in getting me victories, and I'm looking forward to trying them all out on you, and see which one works the best. Will it be the Keyholder? Could I lock you down for good? Or maybe Revenged is the dish that should be served. Really, though, it usually comes down to an opponent taking the Plunge.

Or hell, I could simply roll you up and move on with my night, as I've got more important things to concern myself with.

After all, Bulldog, you're just a weak, faded speedbump in my road towards the next division, the Internet Championship. I've run you over plenty of times, and frankly, you're just a distraction at this point. I'm more concerned with getting some more gold around my waist. But don't worry. I won't come in with my eyes on Milo. I'll be ready to put you down, and send a message to the OTHER wrestler I've fought more than anyone in Sin City that things haven't changed, despite the alteration in levels.

I'm still miles and miles better than you both, and I'll prove that once again by squashing your 'legendary' status down once again.


Present Day

~We return back to the law offices, where we see Peter Vaughn nonchalantly walking along the sidewalk, moving around to the side of the building. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a set of skeleton keys, and then heads to the Authorized Personnel Door on the side... aka the custodians' entrance. Vaughn quickly shifts through the keys, showing his skills haven't diminished in that regard, quickly choosing the right one and unlocking the door. He heads inside, shutting it behind him, before looking around.~

Peter Vaughn: So far so good. I wasn't sure Barney would come through, but I guess I owe that man a fish dinner... in Hawaii.

~Vaughn moves slowly through the narrow hallways, making his way out to where the main stairwell is at. He grabs at the door, about to open it, when he stops, noticing a sensor attached near the top. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Barney, you forgot to mention that one... your trip's downgraded to Corpus Christi.

~With that, Vaughn reaches up, making a few quick adjustments to the sensor. He's able to redirect it to channel above the doorway, keeping its connection even as Vaughn can now open the stairway door and start on his way up. He gets to the top, checking carefully to make sure there's not another sensor before going out to a familiar-looking hallway. He walks down, looking at the doors, until he finds the one he's looking for. The skeleton keys come back out, and the paralegal's door is quickly opened. Vaughn steps inside, shutting it behind him, but failing to lock it. He's too interested in the computer sitting in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: Alright. Now the tricky part.

~Vaughn reaches into one of his pockets, pulling out a flash drive. He considers it, looking a little nervous about its contents, as he's relying on someone else for this part of the plan.~

Peter Vaughn: If Jorge did his work right, this should get me into the system within 10 minutes. If he didn't, well, I guess I'll be trying to explain myself to the police... and worse, Sadie. All I can do is hope that this works...

~Anxiously, Vaughn starts to plug the flash drive in, inadvertently hitting the mouse as he leans closer. The computer screen immediately comes on... showing a database screen, completely unsecured. Vaughn stares at the screen for a few seconds, stunned by his luck.~

Peter Vaughn: Really? You didn't bother to log out? That's a major security violation, young lady...

~He whispers this to the picture frame nearby, which has a family shown in it. Apparently the lady there is the paralegal, who made a serious blunder, which works for Vaughn's benefit. He begins typing into the database, bringing up the files he wants to see.~

Peter Vaughn: Hmmm... so the client is apparently Augustus... Raymeth. Why does that last name sound familiar? Wait... I bought the land from Sam... Raymeth, didn't I? So who's this? His son? His brother? Hmmm. At least now I know more about what he's going to be claiming. But why'd he wait this long before... wait a second...

~Vaughn suddenly scrolls down further, noticing that there's another contact added to the contract below Augustus. Vaughn's eyes narrow as he scowls at the name on the screen.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Judd Harrison. I should have known...

~Vaughn remembers Judd quite well, as he was the rancher who worked the hardest to keep Vaughn from succeeding. Judd was the man who tried to block him from the cattle ranchers' union, and nearly blocked him from being able to purchase cattle. He was an extreme thorn in Vaughn's side, but Vaughn hadn't heard from him in some time.~

Peter Vaughn: Harrison... you've made a major mistake getting involved with me again, you son of a bitch!

~Vaughn's volume goes up a little high, understandably so, due to the shock he just received. But seconds later, Vaughn hears doors opening outside, as security begins to approach. Looking around the office, he considers diving under the desk, but changes his mind, as that's the first place people will look. He glances upwards, noticing the framework, but seems to second-guess that one... only to have to react when the doorknob starts to move. He leaps upwards, pinning himself high up, as the guards walk in, look around, and finally leave. Vaughn then falls, managing to catch himself on his hands and feet, muffling the impact. He gets back up, listening at the door, but hearing nothing else. Vaughn turn turns back to the computer.~

Peter Vaughn: They'd probably hear a printer running, wouldn't they? Okay then, plan B it is.

~With that, Vaughn gets out his cell phone, taking pictures of each document on the screen, getting the knowledge that he would need in this surprising battle to save his ranch. We cut away.~


It doesn't matter if you're a brand new foe to me, or an ancient enemy that just won't die. I'll fight you both just the same.

I have to ask, Barnhart: why do you still come in and fight? Don't you have enough money saved up at this point where you and your missus could go and enjoy retirement? Have you saved anything for the future? I started a 401K account as soon as I became a wrestler. I would have started it when I was a janitor, but let's face it, I wasn't been paid enough. But once the earnings increased, it was the only prudent thing to do. I really hope you haven't wasted all of your funds on beer and medical expenses. That'd be a damn shame.

At some point, man, you're just not going to be able to compete anymore... if what you do now is considered "competing". You've got to think of the future!

At least, your future after this Sunday, because that story has already pretty much been written. I'm going to be flying around you like airplanes going around King Kong, only you won't be able to swat me out of the sky. I'm going to run so many circles around you, you're probably going to need motion sickness pills afterwards. Quite frankly, you won't be keeping up with me, not that you ever could. Odds are, you won't even see the end coming until you wake up on the canvas, realizing that you're now 0-4 against me.

You should probably leave it at that. Don't accept any more bookings against me. It's just not fair.

Seriously, though, Bulldog, I do respect what you've done in the business. It may not sound like I do, but you've stuck around while a lot of other losers have bit the dust, and that's worth something in the long run. But I'm the one moving up the ladder, Billy. I'm the one fighting in a tougher division. You should really just go challenge Eddie Lyons and stay in your lane. I mean, I think Lyons would take you out quickly, too, but you'd have a much better chance against him.

When it comes to facing the Mechanic, the odds aren't just against you. They're crushing you to dust.

I mean, you think anyone's betting on you to come out victorious against me? If they are, they're a glutton for punishment, or just want to get rid of their money to the 'noble' cause of gambling. There's no possibility you're going to overcome the challenge in front of you. My victory is a sure thing. And when I come flying down onto you, with the last thing you might see in the arena that night, I hope you realize that, once again, you've been outclassed, outgunned, and out-and-out proven to be a failure against me.

And I'll have one more Sin City victory locked down, as I head towards the next challenges in life... while you slink back down to the bottom once more.


~The picture shifts once more, and now we find ourselves in daytime, standing outdoors. Vaughn is walking through one of his favorite places on earth, the Garden of Betrayal, an arboretum that he created in the middle of downtown Dallas. Next to him, the camera moves a little more unnaturally... as our favorite cameraman readjusts it to be able to focus on him.~

Cameraman: Alright, I'm rolling. So why are we back in the Garden, Mr. Vaughn? We haven't been here in quite some time.

~Vaughn moves off to the side, with the cameraman following him. Vaughn touches a couple of the flowers nearby, which are still able to bloom despite the wild temperature shifts the Dallas area has experienced lately.~

Peter Vaughn: I suppose it felt right... to return to where a lot of it began last year... when I was the Roulette Champion.

~The two men continue on down the path, as Vaughn gets a little sentimental about the past.~

Peter Vaughn: It was an incredible reign, my friend. I set a record that few people are going to be able to come close to challenging. I know Eddie wants to give it a go, and I give him my blessing... but it's hard to see him lasting 270 days as Roulette Champion. Hell, it took him several tries just to get past me, and sure, he learned a lot from those matches, but will it be enough to threaten my record? I guess we'll see.

~Vaughn suddenly takes them on a side path, one the cameraman hasn't seen before. He hurries to catch up, as Vaughn continues to speak.~

Peter Vaughn: It was time for a change. I never planned to stay in the lower division for so long. But what's done is done, and now it's time to make my way up towards the top. That's why I've challenged for the Internet Title at the next big show, to prove that I belong higher up the card. And how did the management respond to this match? They put me against my old 'friend', Bulldog.

~Vaughn sighs, even as he moves along the path, which has gotten more narrow. The cameraman has to move carefully to avoid the thorns from the large branches nearby, although Vaughn appears to be having no problems himself.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm all set to be living in the future, but they want me to fight in the past a few more times. That's fine by me. I'll castrate the Bulldog once again, I'll take the fight to ol' Milo, and I'll prove myself with another championship reign. And then, guys like Finn Whalen and Goth will have to start to wonder when I'm coming their direction for another bite at the main event apple. It's a brand new day for the Mechanic, guaranteed.

~Ahead of them, there appears to be a doorway hidden in the greenery. Vaughn pushes it open, stepping inside what appears to be a small greenhouse. The cameraman follows, looking around quickly. He seems to be suspicious about Vaughn's motives here.~

Cameraman: You sure you want me to film in here, Mr. Vaughn? Is this... legal?

Peter Vaughn: Legal? Of course it's legal. These plants just required a little more... protection, that's all. But they're coming along, aren't they? They're growing nicely. And when I transplant them soon enough... they're going to be the start of our new future, no matter what certain people think about my land...

~With that, Vaughn steps over to the right, reaching out and grabbing what appears to be a mostly ripe tomato from the vine. He looks it over, nodding and smiling, as he stares at the reddish tint of the tomato. He holds it up, offering it back to the cameraman, as we slowly fade out.~



15
Supercard Archives / Re: PETER VAUGHN (c) v EDDIE LYONS v JUSTIN SMITH - ROULETTE TITLE
« on: February 10, 2024, 07:43:33 PM »
~As the picture slowly fades in, the drone floats over the streets and buildings of Dallas, Texas, showing off the majesty of this great city. The drone slowly makes it way down one boulevard, twisting around and suddenly cutting across a large, green area. Astute viewers of the Peter Vaughn Channel will know that this is the Garden of Betrayal Vaughn had built soon after coming to Sin City Wrestling, a creation that still prospers today. Of course, the locals don't call it the "Garden of Betrayal". It's too beautiful a spot for that name. Most simply call it their little Eden, an oasis in the middle of the city.~

~The drone drifts over the still-thriving park before heading over to the four-story building next door. This one should also be recognizable to true fans, as Vaughn purchased this building after the completion of the garden and began to have it restored. We can see the roof from this height, with no signs of the hole that Vaughn had once plunged through early in the reconstruction. The drone drifts downwards, dropping story by story, heading for the small parking area out in front of the building. There we can see a customized van parked, with our faithful cameraman getting out of the driver's seat, controller in hand. He directs the drone right into his arms, catching it easily.~

Cameraman: Can't believe how green that garden still is. I mean, it's February, what kind of plant-growth science-style BS did Vaughn give them to still survive like this? Or... are they actually all fake plants? I mean, I never really looked too closely when I was over there. Hmmm, I wonder...

Peter Vaughn: You wound me, friend.

~The cameraman nearly jumps out of his shoes at the sound of Peter Vaughn right behind him. He spins around, although we're still on the drone shot, so we still only see his face.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn! Uh, didn't see you there.

Peter Vaughn: Obviously.

Cameraman: One second...

~The cameraman quickly opens the door to the van, replacing the drone with a more handheld style of camera. He directs it towards Vaughn, as we shift to that recording. Vaughn is dressed in typical fashion, wearing his coveralls and a Texas Rangers baseball cap. He shakes his head.~

Cameraman: About what you heard, I, uh, hah hah, I was just quoting some stuff I saw online...

Peter Vaughn: Never believe what's on the Internet. No, the Garden is not sullied with artificial plants. That would negate its whole purpose. No, sir, those are all living organisms, and it hasn't been easy to keep them surviving in the elements, let me tell you, even though they've been bred to thrive in all environments.

Cameraman: You really didn't spare any expense, did you?

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, the Garden will be there long after I am gone. And believe it, it's already been paying dividends. The Garden is a legacy, of a sort... as is this building. Care to step in?

~Vaughn gestures to his building, with the cameraman seemingly reluctant to go in there.~

Cameraman: I don't know, last time it didn't go so well in there. That construction is dangerous, isn't it?

Peter Vaughn: It can be. But construction is completed, at least on the ground level. We're actually starting to get closer to opening, if you can believe it.

~Vaughn gestures again, and with a sigh, the cameraman hesitantly moves forward. He goes through the doors, with Vaughn right behind him, taking in the view... of a completely restored lobby. The walls are covered in a wood-style paneling, with a nicely-patterned carpet leading on the way in. A desk has been set up on the far side, likely where visitors will be able to contact whoever it is they're looking for. It's really a professional setting, eliciting a whistle from the cameraman.~

Cameraman: This is fairly amazing, Mr. Vaughn. I didn't know it was so far along. And you're going to rent out the space?

Peter Vaughn: As I said before, I'm keeping some of these offices for myself, for work I've got to do in the area. But yes, some of the upper floors will handle someone else's business. You have to pay the building expenses somehow, right?

~They move off to the side, where a couple of waiting couches are positioned. There's also a large picture to the side, showing Peter Vaughn from one of his World Championship reigns, raising the gold high into the air. It certainly stands out compared to the rest of the lobby.~

Cameraman: So... this portrait...

Peter Vaughn: Pretty fabulous, isn't it? It gives an air of class as you come in.

Cameraman: I'm... not sure others will see it that way.

Peter Vaughn: I can't say I'm too concerned with others' opinions. It's my building, I get to have a few perks in it.

Cameraman: I suppose that's true.

Peter Vaughn: Besides, sometimes I need a reminder... of where I've been.

~Vaughn turns to the portrait, smiling at it, remembering that moment. He then lets out a small sigh, before turning and moving to the side, leaning against the wall. The cameraman repositions himself for the best shot, knowing the signs of a Vaughn soliloquy.~

Peter Vaughn: It's been 391 days since I first made my presence known in Sin City. Over a year. Everywhere else I've gone, I've been a force to be reckoned with. I went into the XWF and won their Universal Championship within 6 months. I became the first TPW International Champion a short time after it opened, and I won the West Coast Rumble to become the WGWF World Champion soon after its return. Hell, I won my first tournament with PW Valor and became World Champion that night. But in SCW... things have really been on slow-play, haven't they?

~Vaughn glances up again at his portrait, shaking his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I wonder if that guy there would have been okay with that, or if he would have broken some heads sooner. I don't know. I guessed I've changed a lot over the last few years. And it's not like I've done nothing in Sin City. By the time My Bloody Valentine V gets here, I'll have been Roulette Champion for a record-breaking 288 days. I've dominated that division like no other. I've made it a glorious warzone that everyone wants to compete in. But... no matter what I've done, the respect just doesn't seem to be there. Something's going to have to change.

~With that, Vaughn pushes himself off the wall and steps forward, straightening himself up as he looks towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: That's why I issued the challenge the way I did. That's why I told Eddie Lyons and Justin Smith to meet me at My Bloody Valentine, to see if one of them is strong enough to become the new Roulette Champion... or if they're both disposable, worthy only of being discarded. It's time for there to be a change, so that I can continue my journey to the top of the SCW mountain. But only... if that person earns it.

~Vaughn raises one finger to the camera, shaking it back and forth for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: I will defend this championship 50 more times if that's what it takes to find someone worthy. I will battle against three wrestlers, four, half a dozen, whatever it takes to find the one. Will it be Eddie, who's tried multiple times before? Will it be Justin, who just got his ass beat by Eddie on the last Climax Control? Or will it be someone else, further down the line, with both of these bozos blowing their opportunity? We'll just have to see. The Roulette Title has been... precious to me. It will continue on in successful hands... be it theirs... or mine.

~With that, Vaughn dusts off his own hands, before turning and looking down the hallway beyond the main desk.~

Peter Vaughn: You want a tour of the rest of the building, see how it's coming?

Cameraman: Sure!

~The cameraman follows behind Vaughn as they head towards the back area, before Vaughn suddenly stops, raising up a hand to the camera lens.~

Peter Vaughn: Actually, there are a few things back here that, uh, probably shouldn't be broadcast. Do you mind?

Cameraman: Er... is it something illegal?

~Vaughn gives a kind of wishy-washy hand gesture, as if the line is vague. The cameraman gulps.~

Cameraman: Okay, I suppose I've got enough footage...

~The camera shuts off, taking us out of the scene.~


~The video comes back with a shot of the PMV Ranch, Vaughn's pride and joy. He sunk a good deal of his winnings from a $3 million dollar tournament into this ranch, taking the gamble that he could be more than just an ex-janitor wrestler, and it's paid off. The aerial view shows that the ranch is thriving, with cattle roaming the fenced-in grounds to the north and other farm animals being cultivated closer by. The camera zooms down to one of these areas, the chicken coops, where we can see Peter Vaughn working with his tools on one side, adjusting something. He considers what he's looking at, and then reaches for his bag, trying to get a different-sized screwdriver, only to find the bag out of reach. He turns, confused, then relaxes when he sees his fiance, Sadie Anderson, standing there with a smile, holding onto the bag.~

Sadie Anderson: Still working on that contraption of yours?

Peter Vaughn: It's a fine piece of technical engineering, thank you very much. And yes, I'm still trying to work out a few kinks...

Sadie Anderson: You mean it doesn't work.

Peter Vaughn: It works! It just needs some... adjusting...

~Sadie gets Vaughn a raised eyebrow, before handing the bag back over to him. He reaches inside, finding the screwdriver he was needing, and makes a few turns here and there, tightening things up.~

Sadie Anderson: You know there are non-tech ways of doing this, right?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, but if I can get this working, it'll save us so much time. You know how long it takes Trevor to get in here and farm all of these eggs every day? Even with the ramps set up, it can be so much faster a way to collect if this works. I just have to...

~Suddenly, an egg comes firing out of the nearby chute. It misses the collection bucket entirely, as well as the soft padding therein, instead rocketing past Sadie and splattering the egg against the next chicken coop wall. Several impacts have apparently already hit there. Sadie looks back at the wall, then turns to Vaughn again, speechless. He shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay. Yes. Velocity is a problem. But I'm going to fix it, you'll see.

Sadie Anderson: Well, just don't forget that we have the dinner party at the mayor's house tonight. We'll need to be well-dressed for that affair. Is your tuxedo ready?

Peter Vaughn: Ugh. I hate that thing.

Sadie Anderson: I know you do. Is it ready?

Peter Vaughn: ... Yep. It's good to go. I'll be cleaned up and dressed for tonight, Sadie. I promise it.

~Sadie steps forward, giving Vaughn a quick kiss on the lips. The two hold each other for a moment, staring into each other's eyes... until there's another rattle from behind them. Vaughn quickly spins them to the side, as another egg goes flying by. They look over at the splattered remains, then Vaughn shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I just need to remove some of the elasticity of the cables. It'll be fine.

Sadie Anderson: Sure it will. Just don't forget your promise. I know how you like to tinker.

Peter Vaughn: I won't.

~Sadie heads off, as Vaughn goes back over to his device, looking annoyed that it's still not working as expected. He reaches in, continuing to readjust, as we slowly fade out.~


So here we are, boys. Time for a little blood, sweat, and Valentine's Day tears.

Let's talk about the man I'm most familiar with. Hey, Edds. How have you been? I bet you were overjoyed when you saw that you were going to have to fight me again. You probably didn't feel any of that tremendous anxiety that comes from battling a man who's busted your head with a sledgehammer and later won a First Blood match over you by making you internally bleed. I mean, damn, why would you be worried at all about getting into the ring with a man who's nearly killed you TWICE?

Okay, fine... if anyone should be nervous about fighting me, it's probably you.

Really, Eddie, there hasn't been anyone in my battles that has taken more damage than you have. Barnhart got to just be duct-taped to a stretcher. Washington got away mostly unscathed thanks to the "Briefcase Bonzana" stipulation. The only one who comes close to you is ol' Rodrigo, but I'd still put you beyond his damage levels from the Bar Brawl any day.

I mean, I suppose I should be first, because I went through ALL of those conflicts, and took my own damage along the way. But I still walked away, didn't I?

So I'm sure you're wondering, why, after the two horrendous beatings I've given you, would I pick you as one of the men to fight me for the Roulette Title at My Bloody Valentine? Well, I see it as being pretty simple. You got your head smashed in. You got your ribs cracked and your guts all turned around.

And you got up.

I have to respect that, Eddie. You could have said enough is enough, and it's time for a change. You could have gone off and gotten a different job in the business, maybe as ticket-handler or merchant vendor. Maybe you could have transferred to commentary, allowing you to at least watch the matches. But you didn't. You stuck it out. You came back for more. I mean, that is honorable as hell, Eds. And after watching you knock out Justin with the Lions Roar, how could I deny you this opportunity?

Besides... who knows what weapons I'll get to use on you this time? They say the third time's the charm.

I can't help it, Eddie. I want to push you. I want to take you to your limits and see if you can surpass them. I've always thought there was potential there for you to be one of the great ones in this business. Maybe you need me to give you that extra nudge forward, to really get things going for you. Or maybe you need me to knock you unconscious once again. I mean, I don't think it's doing your brain cells too much good, but I'll do what I can.

I'm always willing to go the extra mile.

Now, let's discuss this man they call... Justin. Just. In. You know, I've already heard from people about you. People saying "Why the hell does he get a title shot instead of *blank*?" Or "He lost to Lyons, he shouldn't be in the match with Lyons." And also "Who the hell is that? Never heard of him."

I think that last one comes from how simple your name is, friend.

I mean, Smith is about as generic as you can get here in the States. It's like being a Müller in Germany, or a Tanaka or Sato in Japan. Now, believe me, I'm not one to talk. "Peter Vaughn" isn't some glorious name or anything, I'll freely admit that. But it's heads and tails above "Smith. You're a young guy, right? 23, about to turn 24 in March? You still have time to make a change and wrestle with a different moniker. What about... Justin Surmountable? Wait, no, if they call you by your last name, the impact is reversed. Ummm... Justin Humanity?

You know? Like "Oh, the inhumanity!!"?? It would fit you being this hardcore extremist like you say you are.

And that's just a little bit of the help I'm planning to give you, Justin... because at your core, I DO see someone that can become a dangerous individual in the wrestling world. You just need a few nudges in the right direction. Well, maybe not nudges, maybe a few barbed-wire broomstick shots to the back, but it'll have the same effect. At the same time, though, you need to be prepared for something... different.

Yes, a lot of my Roulette defenses have been extremely hardcore, as Edds there can attest. But that's not always the case. What if it's a three-way submission match? Will you have any way to win when you can't use your weaponry? What about a three-way pie-eating contest? Okay, that one's less likely, but after the Briefcase Bonanza, I know that anything is possible. You really have to be ready for anything, just like I am. You can't be so specialized.

After all, I've been known to spray Windex into eyes and tear people's foreheads open with industrial-strength sandpaper. But I'm also able to fly higher than any wrestler going against me, and I can break out the technical acumen at any time I want. About the only area I haven't fully levelled up is pure power, because, let's face it, those muscle-bound guys can never move fast enough to keep up with me, so why would I want to remove that advantage? So you need to come into this match, Justin, ready to adapt for whatever's coming your way.

Will you be able to do it on the first try? Take me down and move forward? I mean, Lyons is on his third try now, so that seems unlikely... but maybe you can do it. Maybe the Roulette wheel will favor you, and you'll get your speciality. Or maybe I'll manage to knock some of your teeth out with a well-placed steel-boot dropkick. Do you have a good dental plan?

Oh, what am I saying, you work for Sin City, of course you do.

Really, boyos, I'm pulling for both of you to give me the battle that's necessary, to move yourself into a major place in this federation. I want to see you channel your inner Mechanic and roar forward, fighting all the way through, and manage to prove yourselves to me. But I'm not going to be patient. I'm going to slug the first person in my way, even if it's the referee, and bring you both to the edge of your wrestling talents. I will test you in every way possible, with every maneuver and assault possible. And in the end, if one of you is still standing, I'll shake your hand.

And if neither of you are upright... I'll break your hands and move on.


~As the picture returns, we now see Peter Vaughn adjusting his tuxedo bow-tie, looking disgruntled at how it feels, as Sadie Anderson stands beside him. She takes his arm, smiling at him, and the two head away from the parking garage where Gabriella is now located for safety's sake.~

Sadie Anderson: You look amazing, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: How do announcers wear stuff like this every single week? I just don't get it.

Sadie Anderson: They wear it because it makes them look good, just like it does you.

Peter Vaughn: I don't think even I could manage a superkick in this gear.

~Vaughn stops, as if to give it an attempt, but Sadie quickly stops him.~

Sadie Anderson: I really don't want you to rip your bottoms, Peter. We haven't even gotten inside yet.

~Vaughn stops, shrugging his shoulders before looking back at Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Would that get me out of this?

Sadie Anderson: Not a chance. You'd have to go in with your boxers showing to all the world.

Peter Vaughn: Boxers, huh? You think that's what I'm wearing?

Sadie Anderson: ... It's not a thong, right?

Peter Vaughn: Hah! No, no thongs here. Those never looked practical even for the people who are supposed to wear them.

Sadie Anderson: Then what... wait, I don't think I want to know this.

Peter Vaughn: That's up to you.

Sadie Anderson: Look, we're moving forward in line. Do you have the passes?

Peter Vaughn: Sure.

~Vaughn pulls the two passes out of his tuxedo jacket pocket, displaying them to Sadie. She seems comforted by this, half-expecting Vaughn to lose them so that they couldn't go in and he could return to the ranch. The two move forward, listening to the conversation ahead of them.~

Fancy Woman: I tell you, that was the last time we let Sigfried on our yacht!

~The man next to her laughs, as does the security guard checking their pass, although his laugh sounds a lot more fake. He waves them through, and Sadie and Vaughn step forward.~

Security: Passes please.

Peter Vaughn: Yes sir. You know, we never had any problems on my cruise ship, the, uh, Titanic...

~Sadie gives Vaughn a playful nudge with her elbow, getting him to shut up. The security guard runs the passes through his scanner... and then runs them again. After the third time, Vaughn looks a little more annoyed.~

Peter Vaughn: Technology, am I right? Never works like it's supposed to.

Security: Actually, it IS working, sir. But I'm afraid I'm getting a negative message on these passes.

Peter Vaughn: Negative message?

Security: It seems your invite... has been denied.

~Vaughn's eyebrows go up, as Sadie brings a hand to her mouth in shock. The security guard seems to be a little torn himself, as he hands the passes back.~

Security: I'm sorry, Mr. Vaughn. If it's any consolation, I loved your Ultimate X match for the Roulette Championship last year, it was my favorite contest of the year.

Peter Vaughn: I appreciate that... now who do I talk to about these passes? The mayor?

Security: I'm afraid the mayor is already inside, and you, unfortunately, are not to be allowed in. Please don't make me call more security and ruin that beautiful suit of yours.

~Seeing this as a challenge, Vaughn steps forward, but Sadie quickly grabs his arm, shaking her head. They turn and walk back down the steps, with Vaughn rubbing at his head, deeply confused.~

Peter Vaughn: Why would it be denied? I don't remember talking about Eric Johnson in any of my promos recently. Why would they invite us, and then block us?

Sadie Anderson: I can make a couple of calls, see what I can find out. I've got connections there. But before I do that... you didn't set this up, right, Peter? To keep us out?

Peter Vaughn: Of course not!! ... I would have done something that made more sense than this.

Sadie Anderson: Okay, then, let me talk to some people. We'll find out what's going on.

~Sadie moves off, her phone at the ready, as she goes into the political battlefield. Vaughn, meanwhile, looks back towards the security guard, seeing him check in another couple for the event. He takes note of the other guards nearby, weighing up the odds.~

Peter Vaughn: We'll get in there. I guarantee it.

~Vaughn clenches his fists, knowing that whether he wanted in there or not, Sadie DID, and that's all that matters. He heads off back to his truck to get some tools as we slowly fade out.~


16
Climax Control Archives / One Good Deed In Greeley
« on: January 19, 2024, 05:26:10 PM »
~As the picture comes up, we see a train motoring its way along the countryside. It pumps out an unhealthy amount of smoke as it rounds a curve, heading across a large, wooden bridge. As it tracks along the bridge joints, we see a large set of eyes, leaning in and staring at it as it passes. The face seems to nod, taking up a lot of sky above the train, as the figure tilts backwards. The camera shifts, giving us a better view of the Sin City cameraman as he looks down onto the model train running on an elaborate miniature layout that seems to continue for some ways. The cameraman steps back, marveling at the detail.~

Cameraman: They do some amazing work here. I just wish the place wasn't so... big.

~The cameraman shakes his head, walking off to the right, still on the lookout for his usual target. He pulls up his phone, checking to see if he'd missed any messages. But so far, the only messages there are from him.~

"Hello, Mr. Vaughn. Are we still good to meet at 11am at the Colorado Model Railroad Museum? Let me know, thank you."

"I'm at the Museum, and bought my ticket to get inside. Do you think you can sign off on my reimbursement form? Where will we be meeting? Thanks."

"Mr. Vaughn? I know you like me to seek you out, but I have walked all over this place in the last hour. Can you message me back?"

"Hello??"

~Putting the phone back into his pocket, the cameraman continues on his search, moving into another large section of tracks. This one appears to be a complete model of the Eastern Railroad. Again, it's extremely impressive, but it's not what the man is looking for. He has a job to do, and he knows from previous experience that the front office doesn't care to hear about excuses. It just wants him to get the interviews like always. He walks past another model, glancing over at it, and avoiding a small group of kids, likely there from one of the elementary schools. As they all pass, the cameraman suddenly realizes that his phone is finally ringing.~

Cameraman: About da... darn time...

~He pulls out the phone, moving to a quieter side of the museum. He looks at the number, expecting to see Vaughn's name, but instead it's a local number. Confused, but with nothing to lose, he answers it.~

Cameraman: Hello?

Peter Vaughn: Ahh, good, I had the right number. I wasn't completely sure. So used to quick-dial, you know?

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: Listen, I need you to do a favor for me, okay? I need you to pick up something from my hotel room and bring it to me.

Cameraman: Me? Why not Ms. Anderson? Aren't the two of you staying together?

Peter Vaughn: It'd be... better if Sadie doesn't know about this. But I think she's out shopping at the moment, so you should be safe to go by there. It's a small red bag, the one I always bring with me on the road. Don't worry, I'll call the DoubleTree hotel and make sure someone will let you in.

Cameraman: ... Okay, I guess I can do this. But where do I take it?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, that's sort of the catch to this...

~Confused, the cameraman moves for the door, his time with the model railways over with for now. He goes through the swinging door...~


~And we find ourselves coming out a different door, this one labeled with the logo of the Greeley Police Department. The cameraman steps out, still looking stunned, as Peter Vaughn comes out behind him. He's now carrying the red bag, sporting what appears to be a split lip and a bruise on his forehead. His right hand is also bandaged. Still, all-in-all, he seems to be in good spirits, taking a breath of the cold outside air and puffing it out.~

Peter Vaughn: Good to be out of there. I was starting to think I might miss my tournament match, and I never want to miss a promised obligation.

~Vaughn unzips the red bag, checking inside for a moment, and pulls a couple of extra bills from his coveralls pocket, tucking them away inside. He zips it back up, as the cameraman moves closer, his camera now filming.~

Cameraman: So, Mr. Vaughn, what's happening? Why are we here?

Peter Vaughn: What, did they not brief you, boyo? We're here in Greeley because I've gotten to the semi-finals of the Heavyweight Title Tournament, and I'm getting myself prepared to take down another champion and move into the finals at My Bloody Valentine V! It's going to be a hell of a fight, I know, but after taking down the Internet Champion, I'm confident that I can also handle a Mixed Tag-Team Champion as well...

Cameraman: That's... not what I'm talking about. I mean... what happened today?

Peter Vaughn: Today? Today's not important. What matters is this Sunday, when I move forward to take on either Austin or Goth for the biggest prize in Sin City! I know, I know, I've made the Roulette Title a pretty large prize as well, but getting my hands on the Heavyweight Championship, well, that's always been the goal, hasn't it? And it's within my reach, yes sir...

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn? Really?

~Vaughn sighs, holding the red bag under one arm as he turns back to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: You're not going to let this go, are you?

Cameraman: Probably not.

Peter Vaughn: Alright, c'mon. It's not a short story, so let's take a seat in this cafe, and I'll lay it all out for you.

Cameraman: Oh, no, we really can't wait...

~But Vaughn doesn't listen. He walks quickly over to the cafe, stepping through the gate and taking a seat outside. It's near freezing, but Vaughn doesn't seem to be bothered in the least. The same can't be said for the waitress, who looks outside and shakes her head, refusing to come out. The cameraman, looking back at where he parked the van, anxiously steps back and forth, before coming over.~

Cameraman: Look, Mr. Vaughn, I want to know what happened, but also I need to...

Peter Vaughn: Don't worry, they're easy about double parking here.

Cameraman: That's not...

Peter Vaughn: You want to know what happened today? Well... it all started by talking about what makes a good deed...

~Vaughn settles back, looking to the side, as he thinks back to this morning...~


Peter Vaughn: I just don't understand...

~As the shot comes up, we see Vaughn rubbing at his head, looking a little frustrated. He is standing in what appears to be the DoubleTree hotel lobby, having come down from dropping off their bags in their room. Standing near him, shaking her head, is Vaughn's fiancé, Sadie Anderson. She looks over at the desk clerk, who is pretending not to be listening.~

Sadie Anderson: Keep your voice down, please.

~Vaughn doesn't seem to care that much, but he still steps in closer to Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Why are you still upset? It's been a week now, after all...

Sadie Anderson: Yes... a week since you pulled me out of the way of an avalanche, while leaving a 10-year-old child to be buried!

Peter Vaughn: ... But he was fine. They found him easily thanks to the trackers he had, remember? Everything worked out.

Sadie Anderson: But you didn't know that would happen at the time, did you? For all you knew, that kid wasn't going to be seen again. A million things could have gone wrong.

Peter Vaughn: Maybe. But I still the logical choice, and I stand by it.

~Sadie rolls her eyes, as she's already tired of hearing about "the logical choice". Seeing this, Vaughn sighs.~

Peter Vaughn: Would you really rather I left you there instead?

Sadie Anderson: That's not the point. It's not about who you chose, it's about how you made your decision. Sometimes, Peter, you need to realize that it's not about the smartest choice or the 'logical' choice... it's about doing the right thing.

Peter Vaughn: But... the choice WAS right. Look at how it ended!

Sadie Anderson: Peter... I love you. But until you're able to understand what I'm talking about, I don't think this is getting resolved anytime soon. It's not about how it ended... it's about how it was decided. Look, I'm going to go buy some new clothes for Sunday night. Just... think about it, okay? We'll talk later.

~Sadie gives Vaughn a kiss on the cheek, then walks off. Vaughn watches her go, biting his lip. He looks over at the desk clerk, whose smirk fades away as he immediately pretends to type on his computer.~

Peter Vaughn: That just cost you a portion of your tip.

~Vaughn glares at the man before walking off himself, heading towards the parking garage. He heads inside, finding his beloved truck, Gabriella, parked safely away from other vehicles. With one motion, Vaughn gets inside, cranking up the radio as he pulls out and heads out for a drive. He's found in the past that the best way to clear your head is to hit the road. He pulls out from the hotel and heads down the block, driving aimlessly as he thinks things over.~

Peter Vaughn: The 'right thing'. I've heard about that all my life. Do the right thing, Peter. But it's never that simple, is it? Because a lot of time, the right thing is what makes you a loser. For years now, I've ignored the boundaries of right and wrong, and it's made me a multi-time World Champion. It's gotten me through 257 days as the Roulette Champion. It's gotten me to the final four of the SCW Heavyweight Title Tournament, ready to massacre a Finn and move on. Everything's working out. So why do I have to worry about this now? Why does Sadie see this as such a big deal? Why is... HOLY...

~Suddenly, Vaughn's truck is fishtailing, as he twists the steering wheel desperately while the tires fight for traction on the cold road. We see the flash of fur going by, barely being missed, with Vaughn fighting for control... and winning, managing to bring Gabriella to a stop. He takes a few deep breaths, knowing how close that came, before looking in his rear view mirror.~

Peter Vaughn: What in the world?

~We can see, through the mirror, a dog making her way painfully across towards the other side of the road. The dog, a German Shepard, is limping slightly as she hops up on the curb, looking back at the still-running truck.~

Peter Vaughn: Stupid dog. I almost pancaked you... and the dent that would have made in Gabriella...

~Vaughn keeps staring at the mirror, as the dog seems to stop, on-guard, still looking in his direction. For a second, Vaughn can almost hear Sadie's voice in his head...~

Peter Vaughn: Damn it... alright, Sadie... a good deed it is, and maybe you'll forgive me...

~With that, Vaughn pops out the door, moving around the truck, just as the dog begins to move away from him. He starts running after her, full-out.~


The chase has begun.

Last week, I moved myself forward with a triumphant victory over the Internet Champion, Milo. This week, there's no rest for the weary, as we're being thrown right into the fire again, aren't we, Finnigan? But that's okay. I'm used to wrestling an intense schedule. I've been doing it since 2021. I don't know if you can say the same. After all, you'd probably love to tag in your partner right about now.

Sadly, that option isn't available. You still have to do everything on your own. You can't have Kayla fight your battles for you.

So how's that feel, anyway? Relying on someone else, hoping they don't screw anything up? I have plans in 2024 to branch out into the tag-team ranks, but I do have a bit of an issue with trust. But you must be okay with Kayla in that regard. How's she feel, knowing that you want to break up the team by becoming the Heavyweight Champion? A little bit of team strife there? Well, don't worry. It won't be a factor. I have no intentions of allowing you to emerge victorious.

I'm no Oliver Zahn, after all, a pushover you can plow right through for a title.

I'm the record-setting Roulette Champion, the most dominant force in the company at the moment. I'm the future of Sin City, the man who is going to show everyone what a proper Heavyweight Champion should be. You, Finley? I'm afraid you're closer to the past. That's why you're in the tag division now, right? It's safer there. It's more stable. Hell, I envy you for that, in some ways.

You already had your little run at the top, didn't you, thanks to a fluke win over Ken Davison in 2022? I mean, there you were, shocking the world and sitting as the Heavyweight Champion of SCW... and it lasted barely a month before Davison kicked your ass in the rematch, sending you back into the mid-card in brutal fashion. Still, you can claim that you defeated a Savior, and that's a feather in your cap, for sure. I don't know if you can brag much about such a short reign, but I've seen worse.

Dmitri didn't even make it a month. Hell, Drake Green lost his once on the same day. Course, he had several other reigns, so he's still a hell of a lot better than yours in the record books.

The point I'm trying to make, though, is that you've been there already, Finnland. You had the title in your hands. Even if it was a short time, you don't have the same hunger that you once had for the top spot in Sin City. You've had that urge satisfied, which is why you were content to return as a tag-team competitor when J2H was running rampant. You probably were too scared to be embarrassed by him.

I wasn't. I took the fight right to him, and even if he got the best of me once, I was more than prepared to take him on again... before he dropped the belt like a discarded Happy Meal in the trash can.

So you may have gotten this shot, Finn, and maybe you even see it as an opportunity, thanks to you getting the easy draw of Helluva Bottom Carter, the least accomplished of the 8 competitors. You should have dominated. Instead, you got through via another complete fluke. The referee didn't see Carter's foot on the ropes, and so you slipped through to the next round, slithering like a snake instead of roaring like a lion. But that's par for the course with you nowadays, isn't it, Finner? It's clear you still don't want the belt badly enough. Your demeanor and actions make that obvious. You just aren't hungry enough, my man.

And I'm still starving.

I've spent a year here, dominating the lower rankings, while adding some big names to my List of the Vanquished. Matthew Knox. Jack Washington. Eddie Lyons. Alexander Raven. Miles Kasey. And now, you, Finnward. You'll be another cherished name for me to look back on, a man who made it to the top who came tumbling down in flames, all thanks to yours truly. Because I'm here to win. I'm now determined to stop lurking in the shadows, watching as others ride the limelight at the top.

2024 is now my time, Finn. And I'm going to prove that by becoming the SCW World Heavyweight Champion, leaving every single challenger in my wake.

And you, I'm afraid, will be seeing your chase come to an end... as you're kicked back out of the singles ranks and back to that beautiful tag-team partner of yours. And then you'll just have to take in the fact that your time at the top has already come to a close... now and forevermore.


Cameraman: So... you rescued a puppy?

Peter Vaughn: Eh, I wouldn't say she was that young.

~Vaughn shrugs, still sitting at the cafe. Neither has gotten any drinks. Neither expects any to come.~

Cameraman: But... how did picking up a dog off the street lead to... this?

Peter Vaughn: If you let me finish, I'll explain...

~He sits forward, rubbing at his bandaged hand. We then cut back to Vaughn's truck, Gabriella, driving along. The dog is now sitting warily in the passenger seat, a blanket wrapped around its lower half. She is looking over at the driver, as Vaughn concentrates on keeping the wheel straight as he wraps a bandage around his right hand, which is bleeding. It isn't easy to do so without getting any blood on the truck, but Vaughn is doing his best to make sure that doesn't happen. He looks over at the dog, sighing.~

Peter Vaughn: No good deed goes unpunished, huh?

~The German Shepard, predictably, does not respond. She's no longer in fight-or-flight mode, and so her fatigue is showing through now. She slowly lowers her head, resting, as Vaughn makes another turn, following the GPS in the truck.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, I could have left you out there, in the snow. Nobody would have known. But I made this choice, and I need you to respect it, if nothing else.

~The dog whimpers slightly, as it rests. Vaughn glances over, his eyes softening.~

Peter Vaughn: Alright, fine. I won't hold it against you. I've been known to bite first myself in a fight.

~It's been known for a while that while Vaughn can be dangerous to his fellow human beings, he's got a soft spot for many animals. He reaches over, patting the dog on the head, only for her to growl at him. He takes the hand back, not wanting another wound.~

Peter Vaughn: You and I will have to come to an understanding, girl. It's all about what's best for you. Ahhh, here it is. We'll soon get to the bottom of this, okay? Assuming your owner isn't a complete prick...

~Vaughn pulls into the Greeley Veterinary Clinic, parking near the door. He gets out, going around to the other side and opening the door. The German Shepard looks up at him, still favoring her paw.~

Peter Vaughn: This is for your own good, girl. Just trust me.

~Strangely, the dog seems to do so, allowing Vaughn to pick her up and carry her inside to the main desk.~

Receptionist: Hello. What can we do for you two?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I need to see if this dog has a microchip. I found her wandering out in the snow. Figured I'd find out who to return her to.

~The receptionist gets up, scanning the dog with her tracker. Her eyes, meanwhile, widen slightly as she takes the dog's features in. She checks the results, doing a double-take, before lowering the scanner. Vaughn doesn't notice her reaction, too intent on making sure the dog isn't going to snap at him and make a run for it.~

Receptionist: I'll... give the owners a call. I'm sure they'll be here soon.

Peter Vaughn: Great. I've got other things to do.

~With that, Vaughn goes and sits down with the dog on the bench. The dog stares at the receptionist, then back at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I know. But you won't have to worry about me much longer. And I'll be able to tell Sadie that I helped a damsel in distress. Maybe that'll get me out of the doghouse, er, so to speak.

~Vaughn smirks to himself at the unintended pun.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know if this'll help, though. She really sees me in a new light lately. But it doesn't change the fact that I do think I still love her, as much as I can love anyone. If I can fix this, in any way possible, I'm going to do it. If I have to do 100 good deeds, that's what I'll do. Besides, you're cute when you're not sinking your jaws into me.

~Vaughn pets the dog on the head again. Maybe it's because of the vet office, but the dog seems calmer now, and allows it. Vaughn smiles, then turns to the door... as three police officers walk in. Immediately, the receptionist points over to him, and they head over.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh, boy, what's this about? Er, good morning, officers, what can I...

Officer: Stand up. You need to come with us. Get up, now!

~The officers grab at Vaughn's arms. He could probably fight them off if he wanted, but he's too stunned at this turn of events. He looks back down at the dog, who gives out a startled bark.~

Peter Vaughn: What have you gotten me into now?

~The officers pull Vaughn away, as the third man collects the dog. We cut away.~


Things can escalate quickly, can't they, Finnie?

Of course, I'm always a fan of that when I'm in the squared circle. I want the momentum of the contest to build quickly, as I fly around the ring, landing every devastating shot I can. I know you feel the same way in that regard, relying heavily on your aggressive agility in there. It's funny, how my path to the World Title has been built with similar wrestling styles.

It didn't help Milo, and it certainly won't help you. But it does mean that it's going to be another contest to my liking. Fast, furious, and likely with a sudden ending as the final stop.

You see, Finns, I've made my living putting on the highest flying contests the world has ever seen. I'll take any risk if I think it'll pay off in my favor, launching myself at my opponent from every direction. You may think you're pretty agile in there, but I can guarantee to you that you're going to be in second place in that regard. If you try to come at me with your usual style, you're going to be put down hard.

But then, you're not known for your improvisational skills, are you?

I mean, let's face it, that Irish temper of yours will probably keep you from being able to adjust to my constant assaults. You're going to get more and more pissed that you can't lay a hand on me. More enraged that I keep countering all of your best moves. And when that fury hits its boiling point, as it always does, you're going to give me that one opening that I'm looking for.

And then you're going to take the Plunge.

It won't be pleasant. It likely won't be anything that you're able to remember later, even after watching back the recordings. But it'll be definitive, unlike your previous victory. I'll be standing tall, set to make my way towards the other finalist, ready to annihilate another former Heavyweight Champion. It is my destiny to bring Sin City back to glory with a champion at the top of the mountain that everyone can believe in.

It hurts to say, Finn, but most people would see you as a poor substitute at the top. Austin was a Heavyweight Champion for five months. Goth has held nearly a dozen titles here, including two Heavyweight Title reigns. I'm the greatest Roulette Champion in Sin City history, soon to start setting records in the Heavyweight Division. But you, Finn? With that one fluke win? No, I can't see anyone out there believing that you're deserving of another World Heavyweight Title run. It's just the way the cookie crumbles, my friend.

You'll still have Kayla to believe in you, at least.

Hold that to your heart. Continue to be a Mixed Tag Champ. Show the world that you're still worth a lot in the grand scheme of things, leaning on Kayla to keep you on top. And know that someday, you'll be able to look back and say that you were part of the climb of one of the greatest wrestlers to ever appear in Sin City Wrestling. You can tell your grandkids that Peter Vaughn knocked you out.

It'll mean something. I'm sure of it.


~We find ourselves back in the cafe, as the cameraman has continued to record Vaughn's story, sounding shocked.~

Cameraman: They arrested you, then? For what??

Peter Vaughn: Well, turns out there was a home invasion that morning. Y'know, stuff that happens all the time... except this one was, uh, the mayor's house.

Cameraman: THE MAYOR??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. That was his dog. I guess she escaped in the chaos.

Cameraman: And they thought you were responsible??

Peter Vaughn: Well, they took me to interrogation...

~As Vaughn talks, we see the image change, taking us to the interrogation room. The detective stands over a seated Vaughn, pounding on the desk in front of him.~

Detective: Talk to us, Vaughn! Who were your accomplices??

Peter Vaughn: There was no one else... I mean, I wasn't there!

Detective: You were nabbed with the stolen property, you're busted! Now tell us the truth, and we might go leniently on you!

Peter Vaughn: So you're saying that I stole the mayor's dog... and then I went to a vet to try and find our who her owner was? How does that make sense??

~Vaughn straightens up, as if to stand, but the detective grabs him by the head, banging him into the table! Vaughn, a bruise forming, comes right back up, glaring at the man. Somehow, he controls himself.~

Detective: Don't act so smug. I know who you are. I'm sure you think you can get away with murder, by selling the mayor's dog back to him as a "concerned citizen". But you were involved. We know it. We have your fingerprints.

Peter Vaughn: Hah! No, you don't.

Detective: Because you wore gloves?

Peter Vaughn: Because I wasn't there!

~The detective openly laughs, mocking Vaughn.~

Detective: It's a hell of a cover. Raiding houses along the path of your wrestling group, then leaving town, avoiding scrutiny. I bet I'll find similar home invasions in Loveland, Denver, and probably plenty in Las Vegas, won't I?

Peter Vaughn: You are stretching this AWFULLY thin, Detective. Have you been wounded in action lately or something, because I feel like you're missing some marbles.

~As the detective angrily steps towards Vaughn again, the door suddenly opens, and a portly, suited man comes in. The detective immediately straightens up.~

Detective: Mayor Gates! What are you doing here?

Mayor: You can let this man go, Detective. He wasn't there.

Detective: What?? Are you sure?

Mayor: I can very well identify the thug who was in my house, thank you very much! Or do you think I'm senile??

Detective: No, not at all, sir!

~The detective quickly backs off, as Vaughn nods to the mayor.~

Peter Vaughn: Thank you, sir. It's good to see that this city is in good hands.

Mayor: I'm sorry for the trouble, Mr. Vaughn. Good luck on Sunday night. My money's on you to remove that Finn Whelan from the competition. Oh, and thank you so much for returning my beloved FiFi to me!

Peter Vaughn: ... Fifi?

~The mayor shakes Vaughn's hand, before nodding to the detective and walking off to collect his dog. The detective looks shell-shocked as Vaughn shrugs at him.~

Peter Vaughn: I told you so.

~The detective sputters for a moment. The shot cuts back to the cafe, where the camera shakes back and forth.~

Cameraman: You were let go? Wait, so why did I have to get your bag for you, then?

Peter Vaughn: Well....

~We return to the interrogation room as Vaughn gets up, a free man. The detective can't help himself.~

Detective: I should have known you weren't involved, being a wrestler and all. You wouldn't be able to pull off something like this, since it wasn't fake.

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me?

Detective: You'd probably be too high on drugs, anyway, to get out of there safely. After all, from what I've heard, you're all los...

~The detective grabs at Vaughn's arm, yanking him up... and Vaughn pulls away, immediately jumping into a...~

Cameraman: A SUPERKICK??? You SUPERKICKED the detective?? How are you even out now??

~Vaughn, getting up from the cafe chair, just shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: Thankfully, another officer saw him put his hands on an innocent citizen, so I was technically within my rights. But to avoid any difficulties, it seemed right to, uh, cover his medical bills and let the whole thing slide. The mayor also helped out... following a donation to his campaign.

Cameraman: Uh huh... crazy...

Peter Vaughn: So, anyway, here we are. I'm free, I saved a dog, I fought corruption, and I'm ready to tell the story to Sadie about my good deed. It was good to practice it with you, though, friend.

Cameraman: Yeah, uh... about that... that's what I wanted to talk about before we sat down...

Peter Vaughn: What's that?

~As Vaughn takes a step towards the nearby van, he suddenly realizes that the engine is still running. Sitting in the passenger seat, he can see a woman impatiently waiting for him.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Oh.

Cameraman: I guess her shopping ended early, because she was waiting in the room, and, well, I HAD to tell her something...

Peter Vaughn: ... ... ... Oh.

~Slowly, Vaughn walks towards the van, seeing the steely glint of the eyes looking his direction.~

Peter Vaughn: ... No good deed indeed....

~Vaughn, never one to back down, heads towards his fiancé, as she starts to get out of the heated van. She doesn't look happy. The picture slowly fades out.~


17
Climax Control Archives / Falling In Loveland All Over Again
« on: January 12, 2024, 12:37:17 AM »
~The picture slowly comes up on a shot in motion. We are seeing the curvy turns of the Narrows, a stretch of road running through Roosevelt National Forest, west of Loveland, Colorado. The van takes each turn carefully, as if concerned the vehicle will get stuck or go off-road in the narrow canyon. We see a large sign up ahead, touting the Big Thompson River. The bridge runs across, with a small parking slot to the right. The van creeps into the slot, getting as close to the edge as the driver dares, trying to make sure the bumper isn't sticking out into traffic. The camera is then snatched from the dashboard, being held by one of our favorite Sin City cameramen.~

Cameraman: This better be the right place. Something tells me I'm not supposed to park here for long.

~The cameraman moves forward, towards the river, where he can see a lone person sitting there, watching the ebb and flow of the water. Peter Vaughn glances back as the cameraman approaches, giving him a short wave before turning back to the river. The cameraman positions next to him, waiting for Vaughn to make the first move.~

Peter Vaughn: What do you think? Beautiful place, right? Wish I had a fishing pole.

Cameraman: I don't think you're allowed to fish here, Mr. Vaughn. In fact, we might be trespassing just standing here. Where did you park? I only saw one place I could conceivably stop.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I didn't drive here. I rode here.

~Vaughn points to the left, with the cameraman turning to see a mountain bike sitting next to the roadway.~

Cameraman: You BIKED here? All the way here? From Loveland?

Peter Vaughn: It's really not that far. Plus, I needed the exercise. You always have to stay in training when it comes to being a professional wrestler.

Cameraman: I... I suppose so... but there are no bike paths on this road. Hell, there's not even places to pull over most of the way...

Peter Vaughn: I managed. Nobody's run me over yet, at least. So, are you ready for our anniversary?

Cameraman: Our... our what?

Peter Vaughn: Our anniversary. It's coming up soon, you know. I made my Sin City debut at Inception last year, helping my boy Mac Bane become the World Heavyweight Champion. We met soon after that, didn't we?

Cameraman: Oh yeah...

Peter Vaughn: What a difference a year makes.

~For a moment, Vaughn just studies the river again, watching the rapids that have formed regularly nearby. There is a lot of run-off coming from the mountain snowfalls, making sure this river stays moving at a dangerous pace.~

Peter Vaughn: Last year at this time, I was helping someone else win the World Championship. And now, one year later, I'm in the running for that championship myself. I always said I would get there eventually. That's where I saw myself being at this point in time. I just never saw the circumstances leading up to it.

~Vaughn is quiet again, before looking over at the camera, a shadow crossing his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Much as I hate to say it... The Sin City World Heavyweight Title has been tarnished. First, by Michael Harris, who walked away from the company, leaving it all behind. And now, by J2H. A man who I thought was a damn good wrestler, who took me to the limit just last month. But now... I'm extremely disappointed in him, and what he's done to the legacy of a championship that should be thought of as the most desirable title in the world today. He threw the belt aside like it was meaningless, saying that others should fight over it. It was disgraceful. It should never have happened in Sin City.

~Angrily, Vaughn picks up a rock off the ground and lets loose, sending it flying into the rapids. It skips several times before disappearing under the raging waters. After a few seconds, though, Vaughn calms himself down, looking back at the nervous cameraman with a smile.~

Peter Vaughn: But it can all be fixed, my friend. The course can be corrected. All I need to do is ensure that a worthy competitor wins the vacated championship. Someone like me. After all, look what I've done with the Roulette Championship. It's been remarkably similar to J2H's run. The only difference is, I've raised my championship upwards. I've defended my belt against all comers, fighting as hard as possible no matter who I'm facing, be it Miles Kasey, Jack Washington, or The Troll. For 250 days, I have defended the belt, raising the Roulette Division's value immensely. And when someone DOES become the Roulette Champion after me, it'll be because they earned it.

~The pride that Vaughn feels in his record-breaking run as the Roulette Championship shines through clearly.~

Peter Vaughn: And now, I can do the same thing for the World Heavyweight Championship. First, though, I'll need to work through the competition, starting first with my old rival, Miles Kasey. I can see why J2H chose Milo to be in the tournament. He's had quite a lot of success lately, after all. He could have really made some noise in this one... if he hadn't been placed against me right off the bat. Because the cold, honest truth is that, as many times as Milo and I have fought, he's never been able to beat me. He's always come up short. And I have no intention of letting that trend end at Climax Control 382.

~Vaughn gets to his feet, stepping forward to the edge of the river. The cameraman nervously moves closer, hoping that he's not going to see a repeat of Vaughn trying to swim something dangerous. But Vaughn never likes to repeat himself.~

Peter Vaughn: There won't be any Colorado miracles this time out. I'm going to defeat Milo, pinning him once again, squashing his dreams for the moving myself forward. I got victories over several of the competitors last year, and any others that make it through, I'll be slashing through them as well. Sin City deserves a worthy World Heavyweight Champion, and by God, I will give them one. No matter what it takes.

~With that, Vaughn steps back from the river, eliciting an audible sigh of relief from the cameraman. He backs up as Vaughn walks over to his mountain bike, setting it back up and getting it ready.~

Cameraman: Are you sure you don't want to hitch a ride with me? It'd be a lot safer.

Peter Vaughn: Safer? Now where's the fun in that? I'll see you later, boyo.

~With that, Vaughn jumps on the bike and begins to pedal away, crossing the road as a truck comes past, honking its horn at him. The cameraman watches as Vaughn makes it across, continuing along the thin slip of overage off the road, heading back towards Loveland. The cameraman then shakes his head.~

Cameraman: That boy ain't right.

~With that, the cameraman heads back to his van, just as he sees a ranger patrol vehicile pulling up nearby, flashing its lights at him. He sighs.~

Cameraman: Damn.

~The camera is lowered and shut off, presumably for the cameraman to try to talk his way out of citation.~


~As the image comes back up, we see a slope of white, glistening snow in front of us, trailing downwards towards the main buildings of the Loveland Ski Area. We can see the various lifts running up the mountain on either side, taking eager skiers & snowboarders further up to begin their journeys downwards. We can also see a large puff of snow erupt in front of us, as a skier comes sliding down, one ski coming loose before everything comes to a stop with a crash.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter! Are you okay??

~Sadie Anderson comes skiing up next to the downed Peter Vaughn, who is ruefully pulling himself up from where he snowplanted himself. He looks pretty much unhurt, other than his pride, as he dusts himself off.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm good, Sadie. I just took that straight-away too fast. It's never fun, being out of control.

~Sadie watches with her hands on her dug-in ski poles as she watches her fiancé go for his second ski, locking his boot back into the brace.~

Sadie Anderson: You have to be more careful, Peter. You just learned how to ski yesterday, after all! You're doing amazing, but you don't need to become another statistic like Sonny Bono or Natasha Richardson.

Peter Vaughn: Who?

Sadie Anderson: Never mind. Just don't try to go too fast, okay?

Peter Vaughn: I can't help it. Speed is in my nature. But I definitely need to keep working on it. You have to admit, though, I'm doing great. In fact, I say we stop taking these beginner tracks. Let's step it up a bit, shall we?

Sadie Anderson: With what? You want to do a Double Black Diamond?

~Vaughn's eyebrows raise at the mention of the highest difficulty level of skiing. He seems to think it over.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm always up for a challenge, Sadie. Which one do you want to do?

~Sadie stares at Vaughn for a few seconds before exasperatingly shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: None of them! Are you insane?? You JUST LEARNED TO SKI!! I'm not even sure if you're ready for a Blue Square track. I admit, you've been doing pretty well until this crash, but even then...

~Vaughn moves himself over to Sadie, taking her arm as he looks at her earnestly.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm an athlete, Sadie. I can handle it. And besides, how am I ever supposed to know if I'm good enough for a more difficult challenge if I don't even try it?

~Vaughn's argument seems to make sense, although Sadie doesn't look thrilled considering it. She shrugs her shoulders.~

Sadie Anderson: If you're going to be stubborn about it... then we could go try the Spillway, see how you do. It's one of the better trails here.

Peter Vaughn: Bring it on then, Sadie. I promise not to break the sound barrier.

~Sadie playfully punches Vaughn in the arm, before suddenly skiing past him, heading down the mountain. Vaughn immediately follows, sending up a slash of snow as he works to catch up. They both move on, heading toward the lift they'd need to get to the Spillway, as we fade out.~


Looks like it's time to increase the difficulty level.

Well, Milo. Here we are again. What is this, meeting #4? That sounds right to me. I'm sure you never anticipated us meeting this soon into 2024, considering we've been wrestling in different divisions ever since you lost that Ultimate X match to me at Summer Xxxtreme XI. It certainly is a thrilling start to the year, isn't it?

So first off, let me get this off of my chest: I'm proud of you, Milo.

I bet you didn't expect that, did you? But it's the truth. Ever since I denied you the Roulette Championship, you've been the biggest success story of those who have fallen to me. You found your footing again, you recovered, and you tricked Calvin Harris with a victory roll to become the Internet Champion in October. Maybe not a dream victory of knocking your opponent unconscious, but every win counts, right? And here you sit, approaching 100 days as the champion. Now, obviously, it's not as impressive a streak as mine... but it's getting there.

You've done some great things while in your new lane.

Now, it doesn't change the fact that you've struggled everywhere else. You failed to get the Roulette Title from me. You failed to get the Mixed Tag-Team Titles from Finn Whelan and Kayla Richards. You'd never been seen as even a threat to the World Heavyweight Champion. All you've got right now is the Internet Division, which, sadly, has become the third-best division since I took the Roulette Title to new heights. Of course, due to what I've done, some might say the same about me, in that I haven's succeeded anywhere else. So in a way, this is a proving ground for us. One of us moves forward to the semi-finals, displaying to the world we're ready for the next step to the top, and one of us stays stuck where we are, unmoving.

And here's the thing, Milo. I'm refusing to let that be me. I won't allow it.

I've already been there once recently. I was wanting to make some noise at the top, and was given that opportunity, defeating the #1 contender in Alexander Raven. I wanted to shake the foundations of Sin City. But then... I fell to J2H. He got me, there's no denying it. And I've had to live with that for the last month, considering where my future was going to take me. But I didn't let it beat me, Miles. I rose again, annihilating Edde Lyons to continue my record reign into the new year. And when this opportunity came up, I knew I was in position to make the most of it.

I'm ready to rebound and wipe everyone in front of me off the contender board. I'm ready to unleash the full power of my talents, slicing through everyone as I head towards my twelfth World Championship reign. There's nothing I would like better than to be holding that championship, announcing to J2H and the rest of the world that I'm now "The Man" to beat here. I'm ready to be the leader of Sin City.

And really, Milo? I just don't think you are at that level yet.

Don't get me wrong, you could get there eventually. You've been building up some momentum. But the World Heavyweight Championship around your waist? You really think you're ready for that? All the responsibilities that come with it? All the pressure of every single male wrestler on the roster seeking you out? You've been able to coast your way along the last few months, with Austin your only real challenger. Other than those tag champs you lost to, but let's leave tag-team action out of this for now.

People talked about my battle with J2H, and how it was a legendary contest for a Climax Control main event. The fans cheered on Raven, wanting him to be there in the top spot against the champion. Austin? Goth? They've all been there before, fighting for the gold. But you, Milo? You're in the field that hasn't been tested in the pressure cooker yet. Let's face it, you were given this shot because you didn't lose the Internet Title to Austin at December To Dismember. You were able to take advantage of his big miss and survive. Otherwise, do you really think you'd be in this tournament? That they wouldn't have brought in someone else, maybe bring back Mac Bane or Ken Davison?

I'm sorry, Milo. I respect what you've done recently. I do. But I don't think you're ready for this. You're still just above beginner in the difficulty settings. Expert level is just one step too far for you, boyo.

And I'm going to have to prove that on Sunday, by knocking you the hell out and sending you back to the Internet.


~The image returns, now showing Vaughn and Sadie making their way off the ski lifts and looking around. Vaughn manages not to fall off the lift, which is its own little victory.~

Peter Vaughn: So where do we go for the Spillway?

Sadie Anderson: I think it's...

~Suddenly, a loud shriek overwhelms Sadie's voice, causing both to spin in the opposite direction.~

Mother: DANNY! NO! Come back!! That's the wrong way!!

~We see an older woman frantically trying to push herself forward down a long track, only to slip and come to a halt. Below her, disappearing from sight, is a younger boy, probably barely in his teens. The sign he's gone past clearly shows "Tiger's Tail"... a Black Diamond course. The steep incline goes down quickly, out of sight down the mountain. Vaughn glances at the woman, who's trying to push herself back up, then locks his goggles down.~

Peter Vaughn: We'll get him. Don't worry.

Sadie Anderson: Wait, Peter...

~But Vaughn is already moving, heading down the treacherous Tiger's Tail himself. Sadie, sighing with frustration, takes off after him, heading down the large mounds and working to stay upright as she tries to catch up with him. Somehow, Vaughn already seems to be doing things better, probably because of an adrenaline rush getting added in. He manages to reach the young man, who's already fallen over, hard, with both skis becoming dislodged and continuing down the mountain. Vaughn slices hard to brake next to him, offering him a hand up.~

Peter Vaughn: Danny, right? Anything broken, Danny?

Danny: My ankle hurts a little, but I'm okay. Don't I know you?

Peter Vaughn: Anything's possible. He's good, Sadie. Can you get his skis?

Sadie Anderson: I ought to smack you with his skis, the way you just jump into things. But fine, I'll get them.

~Sadie disconnects her skis, putting them into the snow, before making her way towards where the skis ended up.~

Danny: I really feel like I know you from somewhere. Are you an actor?

Peter Vaughn: Depends on who you ask.

Danny: I'll figure it out, I know people.

~He adjusts his hand, absentmindedly pulling on the unusual necklace around his throat. Vaughn takes notice.~

Peter Vaughn: Nice necklace. Really goes with your eyes.

Danny: My mom made me wear it. It's really annoying.

Peter Vaughn: Well, moms can be like that.

~As if summoning her, or at least her voice, we can hear the mom still yelling.~

Mother: DANNY?!?! DANNY!!! YOU DIDN'T BREAK YOUR NECK, DID YOU??

Peter Vaughn: Quite a voice on Mom.

Danny: She sings opera in the car. I hate it.

Peter Vaughn: I can see why. But she really should stop yelling so much, she might...

~Suddenly, there's a different sound in the air. Vaughn looks downwards, seeing a slight vibration in the ground ahead of him. Sadie, having gotten Danny's skis, looks up, surprised.~

Sadie Anderson: What's going on? Do you see anything?

~Both Danny and Vaughn look upwards, where they came earlier... and where a large wave appears to be coming their way.~

Danny: Oh My God...

Peter Vaughn: AVALANCHE!!

~Danny begins to scramble away in a panic, running sideways, not that he can get clear in time. Vaughn also starts moving... straight down the slope, away from Danny. Sadie, who was scrambling upwards with the skis, stops in shock.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter, what are you....

~With one motion, Vaughn grabs Sadie straight off of her feet, getting her on his shoulder as he flies forward, taking a dangerous speed on the way down the mountain. Behind them, the snow piles up, swallowing up everything in sight. Sadie can't do anything else but hang on desperately, as Vaughn puts every bit of his athletic skill into staying upright and ahead of the flow. The avalanche behind them slows down, with Vaughn and Sadie coming out to a less steep grade, heading over near the loading area. Looking back, Vaughn ascertains that the danger has passed, so he comes to a shaky stop. Sadie then pushes off of him, landing on her feet and staring back up the mountain they had just come from.~

Sadie Anderson: What... what did you do?

Peter Vaughn: I got us out of there.

Sadie Anderson: But... but you left Danny. You left that kid on the mountain! He's...

Peter Vaughn: ... Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: You chose me... over him. A kid. You let a kid get buried... to save me... you don't think I could have had a better chance of making it through that? You don't think I might have slid down in one piece, while you carried him?? You left him there!! How could you??

Peter Vaughn: I... I made the logical choice.

Sadie Anderson: Logic? You really think LOGIC is the reason? I can't believe this. That kid...

~Sadie walks away, rubbing at her eyes, as she stares up at the mountain. Vaughn, meanwhile, looks away, as if considering the decision that he made. We cut away.~


"Logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end." Leonard Nimoy said that. And yes, I'm a Trekkie, and if you have a problem with that, you can go suck on a Tribble.

So let's talk about how, logically, you don't stand a chance against me, Milo.

First off, there's the experience factor. Sure, you've gained some ground in the previous few months, but you're still short on the main event pressure situations compared to me. I've fought the best of the best in Madison Square Garden. Eleven times so far, I've climbed the Mount Everest that now rises before us, claiming my prize as a World Heavyweight Champion. I know what it takes to come out victorious in a tournament like this. I cruise through the pressure like a blue whale in the Pacific. You're probably going to be dealing with the bends, trying to come back from this one.

Next, we have our comparable styles. We're both high-flyers, daredevils who are not afraid of taking that extra leap into the unknown. But that's as close as the comparison comes, Miles, because I'm still several levels above your talent points. Nobody would say that you can perform all of the maneuvers that I can. As The Mechanic, I pull off dives that you could barely dream of. If we were trying an analogy, I think I'd say you're like the Miami Dolphins. You show flashes of brilliance, but anyone can see you're not there yet. And me? I'm like the San Francisco 49ers. The greatness is clear.

I'm likely Super Bowl bound.  You're eliminated in the first round.

I think the biggest dilemma for you, Milo, is that heart of gold you've been sporting. Now, in other areas, that heart of yours probably has me beat. I'm envious that you're able to see certain things so clearly, while it's a little murkier on my side of the world. But in wrestling, you really need to be willing to do anything in your power to win. If your opponent foolishly turns his back, you have to be willing to Backstab him. If the referee gets distracted, you need to find a way to use that to your advantage.

You have to proceed logically, and sometimes logic does not equal fair play.

Now, in Sin City, I've been fairly tame in my ability to turn situations into my favor. Quite frankly, I haven't had the need to 'bend the rules' that much, since in most Roulette matches, the rules are mostly nonexistent. But I am determined to honor the championship the way it deserves to be treated. Twice now, the wrong person has been the champion, and the glorious history of the title has been damaged. I won't let it happen a third time, Milo. So if that means I need to seize on a 'loophole' or two to take this victory and move on in the tournament, well, that's what I'll do.

But you won't. Not as far as I know. That's a weakness, Milo. An extreme one. And it will likely be your downfall.

Look, I'm not going to take anything else away from you. You'll still be the Internet Champion. Maybe you can go fight Lyons again, he's always a hoot. Maybe someone like Raven or Whelan will also be knocked out early, and they'll opt to give you a major challenge for your belt. You'll have options. And all I ask is that you do what you've done the last few times I defeated you. Just bounce back, best you can, and know that someday, in the future, you'll be a World Heavyweight Title contender. Just not yet.

Because when it's all laid out in front of you, it becomes painfully obvious that this is my time. Not yours. Mine.

Get yourself braced and ready, Milo. You're going to be taking the Plunge yet again.

And logically, so will everyone else that gets in my way.


~Rescue crew can be seen running up, as Sadie turns away from Vaughn, still upset. She moves over to them, waving one down so that they stop their snowmobile close by.~

Rescue Crew: Are you hurt, Miss?

Sadie Anderson: I'm fine, but there's a kid up there... he was buried, I think...

~Sadie takes a deep breath, trying to control the tremble in her speech.~

Sadie Anderson: We could have rescued him... but...

~Suddenly, Vaughn is there, stepping in front of Sadie and nodding to the rescuer.~

Peter Vaughn: His first name was Danny. I didn't catch the last name. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and I'd say around 10-11 years old. His mom was further up the trail, I don't know if she was caught up in the avalanche or not. Most importantly, though, Danny had an avalanche transceiver on a necklace he had around his throat. I also thought I saw a bracelet, but I could be wrong. Either way, you should be able to trace the signal, right?

~Sadie looks back, surprised, as the rescuer nods his head. His partner already is getting equipment ready, knowing that every second counts.~

Rescue Crew: If it's on, we'll be able to find him. Thanks for letting us know.

~The snowmobile drives off, as Vaughn watches them go. He then turns back to Sadie, who now has a questioning look on her face.~

Sadie Anderson: I... I didn't see the transceiver.

Peter Vaughn: No reason you should have. You went for his skis, remember?

Sadie Anderson: So that's why... that's why you went for me?

Peter Vaughn: ...

~After a moment, Vaughn shakes his head, closing his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I thought about getting us something like that. But I didn't even know if we would be skiing past the first day. But as soon as the avalanche started, I knew... I had to get you out of there, because I might not be able to find you in the snow. But Danny... he can still be found.

Sadie Anderson: But... but what if he was hurt? What if something went wrong?

Peter Vaughn: ... Then I'd have to live with it. I made the logical choice, the choice with the best odds. I can't deny... I also did have selfish feelings at the time. But I still think saving you was the right way to go.

Sadie Anderson: I guess... I guess we'll find out, won't we?

~Vaughn nods, as the two head back to the lodge of the ski resort, where many people are waiting after the avalanche. One of them is Danny's mother, who thankfully doesn't notice them. She's too busy staring out into the snow, waiting for a sign. Soon, that sign is given, as flashing lights can be seen approaching. A snowmobile comes up... dragging a stretcher behind it. It heads to the medical side, where two doctors can be seen hurrying out. Danny's mother runs out, heading over there at a dead run.~

Mother: DANNY! DANNY!!

~Both Peter and Sadie watch from behind the window as Danny's mother gets there, leaning over at hugging her boy... who, after a few seconds, hugs her back. She gets up, with the doctors taking Danny inside to get looked over and warmed up. After a moment, Sadie leans over, taking Vaughn's arm. They don't say anything. There's nothing more to say.~


~The footage cuts to the next day, where we see Peter Vaughn sitting in the lodge living area, nearby a large fireplace. He's reading a file in front of him, apparently with Miles Kasey's most recent accomplishments, studying up on the opposition. That's when a young man walks up to him, studying him. Vaughn, sensing someone staring at him, looks up at Danny, who appears to be recovered from his ordeal under the snow.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, Danny.

Danny: You're a wrestler. Peter Vaughn. I remember you now. I've watched you on TV.

Peter Vaughn: So you have.

Danny: I thought you would be a hero in real life.

Peter Vaughn: That's not something I've ever claimed to be, kid.

Danny: You left me up there. You abandoned me. I could have died.

~There's no accusation in Danny's voice. He could just be talking about ordering a burger off the lunch menu, the way he sounds. Vaughn closes the folder and gets up, locking eyes with Danny for a moment before patting him on the shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm glad you made it, Danny. Be sure to keep wearing your necklace, no matter how much you hate it. Sometimes mothers are right.

~With that, Vaughn walks away, heading for the exit. Before leaving, though, he looks back over his shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: Just so you know, it was nothing you did or didn't do. If I had to make the choice again 100 times, I'd choose her every time. She's... important to me, in ways I could never imagine. But for her sake... she'll always think of it as a logical choice. Goodbye, Danny. Live long and prosper.

~With that, Vaughn leaves, presumably to meet up with Sadie somewhere and depart from the ski resort. He has a match to finish prepping for, after all, a match that could be the start of immense changes for him and those close to him. Danny, meanwhile, hobbles over to the fireplace, taking a seat where Vaughn had been. He stares into the fire, emotionless, as we slowly fade out.~

18
Supercard Archives / Crisis In Confidence P2
« on: December 15, 2023, 09:11:45 PM »
~The picture comes up on a shot of the moon, shining through the night sky in-between the clouds. It gives just enough light to see, as the camera pans down, showing us the view of the land around the PMV Ranch. There are lights in the distance, separated amongst the land, moving back and forth as a search party is underway. In the distance, we can hear voices yelling, carrying over the west Texas landscape.~

Keith Cooper: Peter! Peter Vaughn!

Teddy Smitherman: Yo, Pete! Where are you! Boss!

~As the yells continue, carrying into the night, the camera slowly turns, showing another rider nearby. We see Sadie Anderson, Peter Vaughn's fiancé, dismounting her horse as she comes to a cliffside area. She quickly scans the ground, using a flashlight to get a better look. But she doesn't see what she's looking for, as she shakes her head.~

Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter... why were you covering up your tracks?

~Sadie sighs as she stands up, pulling off her cowboy hat as she stands there, thinking. She's shown in the past that she's a master tracker, having found Vaughn before when he's ridden off on his own. But this time, even tracing back the tracks of his horse, Midnight, Sadie's come up empty. There's no sign of a disturbance where the tracks stop. There are also no signs of where Vaughn went next, as the ground is too rocky there. Sadie has tried her best, but so far, she's come up short.~

Sadie Anderson: Please don't have done anything crazy, Peter... please...

~Sadie puts her hat back on, getting back on her horse. After doing a half-circle, the horse is directed forward by Sadie, on pure instinct. They head over a rocky incline and further down the land, with Sadie keeping an eye out for any signs. That's when she hears the noise of walking over near her left. She immediately directs the horse that way, breaking through a batch of brush and landing beside the startled man there.~

Cameraman: YEEEIIIII!!!!

~The man jumps back, afraid of getting trampled, as Sadie shines her flashlight on him.~

Sadie Anderson: Who are you? Wait... I know you...

Cameraman: Ummm, it's Ms. Anderson, isn't it? We met when Mr. Vaughn fell through the roof of his building?

~Sadie raises an eyebrow, remembering that scary experience, although it didn't turn out to be nearly as bad as it seemed at first. She jumps off the horse, landing next to him.~

Sadie Anderson: You're the cameraman who's always interviewing Peter, right?

Cameraman: I don't know if you'd call it "interviewing"... but I do what I'm told, yes.

Sadie Anderson: But what are you doing out here, in the dead of night??

Cameraman: Well, I... *ahem*... it's a funny story, see...

~The cameraman glances over his shoulder, back the way he came. The shot quickly shifts that direction as well...~


FLASHBACK

~And in a nice piece of camera switchery, we find ourselves at a long highway nearby the PMV Ranch. Headlights can be seen in the distance, making their way our direction. The van behind the lights finally stops close by, as we can see the cameraman sitting behind it. He stares again at his phone, before looking around again.~

Cameraman: Well, I guess this is the place. Spooky out here.

~The cameraman leans over to the passenger seat, getting his hand-held camera ready. He sets it up to record, knowing that he needs to be ready at a moment's notice. He then starts to step out of the van with it, only to reconsider.~

Cameraman: Nah, I've seen too many horror movies end that way.

~He sets the camera back on the dashboard of the van, before stepping out of the car and walking a few steps away. We can hear his voice as he yells out into the night.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn? Are you here? I've gotta say, I've never been sent actual coordinates to meet for a promo before. I mean, I get it. There aren't many landmarks out here. But still... you are here, right? This isn't some prank, or something worse? Hello? Mr. Vaughn?

~There's no response. The cameraman comes back to the van, not wanting to get too far from it. After all, there could be coyotes out there. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone again to text Vaughn that he's at the coordinates.~

Cameraman: The things I do for this business...

~After a few seconds, there's a ding on the phone, and the cameraman looks down at it.~

Cameraman: "Come to the light"? What light? There's no freaking... oh.

~The cameraman looks off into the distance, apparently seeing something that we cannot. He grumbles to himself before walking that direction. We hear his feet crunching away as he gets further towards the light, leaving the camera behind. He'll regret that decision shortly. More footsteps are heard, and suddenly Peter Vaughn is sliding into the driver's seat. He looks down, making sure that the cameraman left his keys.~

Peter Vaughn: Perfect.

~Vaughn slams the door shut as he starts up the engine, pulling the van away and doing a U-turn. He heads back in the opposite direction, as we can heard yelling behind him, fading away.~

Cameraman: Wait! Mr. Vaughn! Don't leave me out here!!

~Vaughn doesn't look back. He's clearly got a goal in mind. He needed a ride to accomplish it, and so he made it happen. Sure, he could have tried Uber, but they can be unreliable out in the middle of nowhere. As he drives, Vaughn notices the hand-held camera sitting on the dash. He shakes his head, before turning it towards him.~

Peter Vaughn: Big mistake leaving your equipment running, boyo. Plus, of course, leaving the keys in the ignition. We're going to have a long talk about security concerns when I see you next.

~Vaughn smiles for a second, but his smile quickly fades away, as he can't seem to maintain the relaxed view he usually carries. He drives on for a minute, before beginning to talk to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, when I came to Sin City early in 2023, it was for one purpose: taking the wind out of Matthew Knox's sails. I wanted to make the third Raven pay, while also helping out one of my few friends, Mac Bane. If I'm honest with myself, I never planned on staying this long. But there's something about Sin City. It can get under your skin like nowhere else, keeping you invested in the competition.

~Vaughn continues on down the highway, heading to an unknown destination, although he doesn't seem hesitant at all in driving there. He's likely been there before.~

Peter Vaughn: Now, we're almost a year into my tenure here. During that time, I've become the two-time Thunder Pro Wrestling International Champion. I've become a two-time WGWF World Heavyweight Champion. And I've even won the Outsiders World Championship, a fed I never expected to make a return appearance in. And through all that, in SCW... I've been a Roulette man.

~Vaughn's phone lights up, presumably from the cameraman trying to call him. Of course, it could easily be one of the many people currently searching for him as well. Either way, he ignores it, intent on speaking to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: Some would say I've had my best run of the year in Sin City. Others would say I've wasted my potential, never rising above the Roulette division.  It's hard to say which side is right at this point. But here I sit, set to wrestle for the Roulette Championship at my fifth straight Pay-Per-View. By the time December 2 Dismember comes around, I'll have been champion for 225 days. That's a nice, round number, isn't it? Even if I didn't show, for some reason, they couldn't forfeit the belt until then...

~For a second, Vaughn looks away from the camera, seemingly considering what his future holds.~

Peter Vaughn: Have I done enough, do you think? Or do I have a lot more to do? That's the real question. I suppose some of the answers will come in the new year... and one will be answered at December 2 Dismember. One way or another.

~Vaughn's hands tighten on the wheel, as he turns his gaze back towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: I wonder what they'll have on the wheel. Anything I haven't done before? Maybe a Christmas-themed battle? Deck The Halls, where we have to put our opponent's blood on all four walls to win? Up On The Rooftop, where we fight until someone takes a more literal plunge than I'm used to? Or maybe we'll have to scale a line of Christmas lights to reach the title. All possible ideas. All probably a blast, really. There's an idea, an Exploding Gifts match! Then again, Eds might get seriously injured again, which isn't exactly what I'm looking for. I don't want to fully repeat history, after all.

~For a moment, Vaughn taps on the steering wheel, as if thinking it through. He makes a move on the highway, passing by a slow-moving vehicle, probably driven by a slightly inebriated soul.~

Peter Vaughn: I hope Eddie is ready. He's got a lot to live up to. But it could be his night. Then again, it could be mine as well... if I choose it to be.

~He then reaches out towards the camera with one hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Might as well save his battery. Give him one thing he doesn't have to worry about...

~With that, the picture cuts out, as Vaughn's drive continues.~


~We go back to the rocky plains where the cameraman finishes telling his story to Sadie Anderson, albeit without knowing anything about Vaughn's promo given there. All he knows is that Vaughn stole his ride.~

Cameraman: ... So with nowhere else to go, I started heading towards the ranch. I hadn't been there before, but I thought if anyone could help me, it'd be you guys.

Sadie Anderson: I'm sorry Peter did that to you. I can get you back to the ranch, just hop on.

~With one motion, Sadie is back on her horse. She extends her hand, with the cameraman giving her a dubious expression.~

Cameraman: Could you, I don't know, send a cart for me or something?

Sadie Anderson: Just get on. I don't want to waste any more time.

~The cameraman reluctantly grabs hold, managing to get up on the horse, although he looks distinctly uncomfortable behind Sadie. She starts riding, taking them back towards the main homestead.~

Sadie Anderson: So did your van have GPS installed?

Cameraman: Please. I work around wrestlers all the time. OF COURSE I have GPS. I could track exactly where the van is, as long as Mr. Vaughn doesn't disable it.

Sadie Anderson: Good. Then let's get back to my truck and we'll get after him. We need to find out why he's doing all this.

Cameraman: And also, I need my van back.

Sadie Anderson: That, too. Hang on!

~The horse moves from a trot into a gallop, as the cameraman hangs onto the saddle, desperate not to get bucked off as Sadie determinedly moves them along, her next move locked in her mind.~

Sadie Anderson: We're coming, Peter.

~The horse continues on, motivated by its owner, as we cut away.~


Well, Eddie Munster, here we sit. Two days away from what could be the biggest night of your career... or the worst. Or both. After all, you getting paralyzed would be a horrible day, but it would also be considered as a major event in your wrestling life... which would be over.

Not that I'm planning for that to happen. Actually, I'm a fan of Team Lyons right now. Does that surprise you? It shouldn't. As I said, I want someone worthy to challenge me for the Roulette Championship, and I admit, I was concerned about how much effort you'd be willing to put into it. But from what I've heard, you're training night and day for this match. When you're not blowing money in the Vegas casinos, that is.

Quick reminder, kid: the house always wins in the end. So if you're ahead, get yourself out of there and be glad you left with your money back.

Other that that, though, I'm glad you're taking this one seriously, just as I am. You're looking fairly fired up, and I can respect that. You've even latched onto a strong tool of our trade: vengeance. You've got that blood boiling, wanting to get revenge for me acting like Gallagher on you.

Oh, sorry, you're too young. He was a comedian, smashed watermelons at the end of every show? Yeah. Crazy son of a bitch. I don't know if there's anyone comparable to him in recent times.

And don't you dare say Carrottop, or it'll cost you a bruised kidney.

So you've got the motivation to give me the match I crave. But do you have the talent? I guess we'll find out at the PPV if you've truly improved so much as you believe you have. I mean, it's not like it's been years since we first faced off. It was near the end of August, so we're talking less than four months. Can someone make extraordinary gains in that period of time? Certainly. But it's not easy. It takes dedication. And there are usually signs to show it to the world.

You know, like getting lots of victories in recent months.

Now, I will say, Eddie, that on the surface, you're trending that way. I did a quick perusal of your recent history, and you have racked up some wins. The biggest one looks to be Helluva Bottom Carter, who gets credit for getting the last pin on the former heavyweight champion. I mean, I've beaten him too, but it's still a respectful win. Then you've beaten Tyler McCulligan, who, yes, I've beaten. And you took down Rodrigo Alfonso, who I've also taken down... twice.

Some might say that makes us equal, in some ways, huh?

And yet... I defeated the #1 Contender, Alexander Raven, and went toe-to-toe with the champ, J2H. At the same time, you lost to Austin James Mercer, not to mention which you were unable to stop Milo from retaining the Internet Title. So I'd say those are some points against you right there, as to signs for improvement.

By the way, for the record? There's no such thing as a "half-loss". When my tag-team partner gets herself pinned, I still have an L added to the record book. When I'm battling in a six-way contest and one guy gets a lucky roll-up on the jobber in the match, it still lands full marks on me. We don't do half-points in this sport. So toughen up on that, say you took the loss, and man up for the next one, okay?

So physically, have you improved? If you've kept constantly training, I'd hope so. Mentally, though? I'd say the jury is still out. I want to see if you can develop that killer instinct in the ring, or outside of it, depending on what type of match we're having. It's something you have to have, if you want to be great in this business. You know I've got a reputation for being willing to do anything to win. I do have to say, though, it annoys me to hear it brought up in Sin City, strangely enough.

Yes, in other federations, I've rigged up electric shocks to the ropes to 'surprise' my opponents. I've shot up some with tranquilizer darts, and others I've brought in enough troops to be my own army, stampeding over those standing against me. But in Sin City? This has really been the place where Peter Vaughn has stayed... pure. Oh, sure, I've done some major damage in the matches given to me, but everything I've done? It's been within the rules of that particular match. Just like it will be for this contest.

Hell, in my view, I've been damn well noble here.

But you can be a stickler for the rules of the contest, and still be ruthless against your opposition. In fact, for the Roulette Title, it pretty much demands that you have that merciless side, because you have to be willing to go the extra mile. For instance, if you're standing at the top of the turnbuckle, holding a sledgehammer, do you utilize it? Or do you toss it away and hope you can win with a simple elbow drop or something?

Obviously, you know my point of view on that one.

So yeah, Eds, I'm still intrigued to see what you bring to the table in this one. Especially if it's a tables match. Will you try to do things the 'honest' way, bringing in a table and setting it up, hoping to put me through it? Or will you be able to think strategically, and immediately try to put me through the announce table after a sneak attack? If you did that, I dare say I'd be proud of you.

I'd still fight like hell to piledrive you through that same table, but I'd still be proud.

So let's see what you've got, Eddie. Show me that a Lion can be cold-hearted and proud, and you could definitely become worthy in my eyes. Or be like Simba and just lay there, crying, while the ruthless lion does what he has to do.

Roar, boyo. Roar.


~As the shot comes back up, we see Sadie Anderson driving her well-ridden truck, bringing it down the road, as she looks to her side.~

Sadie Anderson: Well? How's it looking? Are we almost there?

~The cameraman is fiddling with his cell phone, pressing several places at once. He looks like he's scrolling through something.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello?? Do I need to turn soon or what??

Cameraman: Oh, uh, hold on a second...

~After a few more adjustments, the cameraman finally has a map on his screen, showing the blinking light up ahead.~

Cameraman: Okay. It should be coming up soon. We'll need to make a right turn about half a mile from here.

Sadie Anderson: And he's still stopped?

Cameraman: Yes, from what I see, the van is stationary.

Sadie Anderson: Thank goodness for small favors. But why is he here, outside of Dallas?

Cameraman: ... Well... he's kind of been here before. Recently.

Sadie Anderson: What?

~The turn-off is coming up on the right, so Sadie gets into the right lane, prepared. She then sees the sign sitting in front of them.~

Sadie Anderson: "White Rock Lake"? Wait... isn't this where Peter...

Cameraman: Yep. This is where Mr. Vaughn went for a swim and got arrested.

~Confused, Sadie pulls into the parking area for White Rock Lake. Nearby, we can see one other vehicle sitting there, parked. It's the cameraman's van. As soon as Sadie parks, the cameraman hops out and hurries over. He reaches under the back tire, pulling out a spare key and unlocking the van. Looking inside, he breathes a sigh of relief.~

Cameraman: I think everything's still here. Well, other than my hand-held. Mr. Vaughn must have taken that.

~The cameraman slams the van shut, as Sadie walks past him, a foreboding look on her face. She's headed straight towards the pier, with the cameraman hurrying to catch up with her.~

Cameraman: What do you think? Did he crack? I mean, it's even colder now than it was earlier...

Sadie Anderson: We just need to find him. Nothing else matters.

~The duo makes it to the pier, where they see a stack of gear laying on the ground. It appears to be another of Peter Vaughn's coveralls, folded neatly on the deck. Sadie shakes her head in disbelief.~

Sadie Anderson: Did he really...

Cameraman: Hey, my camera!!

~The cameraman slips past Sadie, picking up the camera from the post it was sitting on. He brings it back over, quickly rewinding it, as Sadie steps in next to him.~

Cameraman: Thank goodness it didn't end up in the water!

~Sadie glares at him, with the cameraman doing a quick swallow.~

Cameraman: I'm sorry, it's just... it would come out of my salary... anyhow, let's see what it recorded.

~With that, the cameraman gets it playing.~


FLASHBACK

~The image comes up with Vaughn setting the camera in place on the post, making sure it's recording. He nods, seeing that it's on, although he struggles for a moment to get it centered.~

Peter Vaughn: That camera guy makes this look easier than it is. Guess that's why they pay him the small bucks.

~After a moment, Vaughn finally steps back, nodding towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm recording this for whoever ends up watching this. Probably Sadie. Hey, darlin'. As you can see, I'm back here where I failed at my attempt to cross the White Rock Lake. Anyone who knows me will realize that I don't deal well with failure. I'm a completionist. It's in my blood. And I don't like to get denied when I've got a goal in mind.

~Vaughn shrugs, acknowledging his weakness, even while giving in to it here tonight.~

Peter Vaughn: When I start something, I have to finish it. I've started a great run in Sin City, even through a few bumps in the road, and I have to make sure I complete the journey, one way or another. I also have to complete this journey, here at the lake. Otherwise, it will gnaw at me for the rest of my life as something I failed at. I don't do failure. Not here. Not in Sin City. Not ever.

~With that, Vaughn begins to get out of his coveralls, even as he positions another bag nearby. Where did he get this bag? Who knows?~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, I just want you to know, I do love you, more than I have anyone else. I'm not great on that front, you know that, but I still believe in it. I don't see anything going wrong here tonight, but just in case I turn out to be mistaken... I just want you to know that I'm glad to have been in your life. I'll see you soon. I promise.

~With that, Vaughn steps forward, in his swimming trunks, as he shuts off the camera.~


~Silently, the cameraman lowers his hand-held, looking over at Sadie with concern.~

Cameraman: You don't think he really... I mean, that water would be near freezing tonight, wouldn't it?

~Sadie looks over the lake, a mixture of emotions on her face.~

Sadie Anderson: How'd they get him out of the water earlier?

Cameraman: Uh, well, they used a speedboat over on the other side... but wait!

~Sadie is already heading around, intent on getting to the boat, as the cameraman follows behind her.~

Cameraman: You can't use the boat, Ms. Anderson! It'll bring security down here in a flash! They'll arrest us both, and then they'll go arrest Mr. Vaughn as well, and he won't just pay a fine this time!

Sadie Anderson: I don't care. They can lock me up for as long as they want, but first, I'm saving my fiancé! Now get out of my way!

~After a brief tussle, Sadie gets past him, hurrying over to the other side of the pier. The cameraman follows, looking around wildly, wondering how long they'll take to respond. Both come around to the speedboat, looking inside... and Sadie gasps out loud at what she sees.~


Sometimes it's hard to believe what's right in front of your face, Edward Furlong.

I mean, I'll give you the credit for admitting that you felt intimidated by me in our first meeting. I mean, why wouldn't you? You were a newcomer on the scene, trying to impress that all-star family of yours, and I'm one of the greatest wrestlers of all time. Of course you'd be intimidated, and I'm sure that played a part, however small, in my victory over you.

But that's where the vision problems come into play, Ed. Because you're saying that now you're not intimidated, and that it won't affect you in our second contest.

The problem is, my friend, I don't think anyone out there believes it.

You're coming into this contest trying to hide what should be as plain as the nose on your face: that you're even more intimidated by me now that I nearly killed you with a sledgehammer. Again, who wouldn't be? I certainly wouldn't be that confident if someone tried to squash my brain and almost succeeded. I've had battles before with guys like Supreme Machine who nearly slaughtered me, and I tell you, that stays in your mind when you have to face them again.

I'm man enough to admit it, kid. There are some guys that will absolutely be in my head before a contest even begins. Guys like Alias, who floored me in the XWF. J2H will probably maintain a place in my mind for a while, until I clear that hurdle eventually. The trick is that you have to use that intimidation as a weapon itself. Forge it so that you can use it against your opponent, turning the weakness into a strength.

The problem is, to do that, you have to acknowledge that it exists.

So do your best to see me in the correct light, Edds. You're frightened of me in some ways, and that's okay. Channel that into your psyche. Use it as fuel. Terror can add a lot of adrenaline into the mix, after all. It might even help you get over the hump, although I don't exactly need that kind of motivation myself. As soon as the night's wrestling begins, I'll be overflowing with energy, that'll fuel me just fine in the heat of battle.

But you could use it, Eds. Just be honest with yourself. Can you do that?

I'm not sure you can. After all, you really believe in that Honor Over Glory nonsense. I've never been too big on the 'honorable' part. I mean, okay, I have my limits. I won't go out and hit a kid, or beat up an elderly guy, or set fire to someone's house. I don't see the point to any of that. But if you have an advantage that's built into the rules of the match, why NOT exploit it? There's nothing impure about that, in my view. Of course, that could be the devil in me talking.

But who knows? Maybe you can prove that it's still possible to be honorable AND relentless at the same time. Anything's possible.

Seriously, though, for this to be match of the night, I truly need you to realize that you've got a bit of fear in your heart regarding me. You probably have had a nightmare or two from that night, waking up after the impact, wondering if you were going to make it through the evening. You have to acknowledge it to move past it. To be the man that I DO see you can become.

You can be great in this business, Eddie Lyons. You CAN be Unbreakable.

You just have to admit to yourself that even unbreakable elements can have flaws.


~Both the cameraman and Sadie stare with their mouths agape, looking down into the speedboat as the man down there acknowledges them.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. Hey, camera dude. Nice enough night for you?

Sadie Anderson: Peter... you're... why are you...

Peter Vaughn: Hold on a second. I think I almost have the hang of this. If I just cross these two wires...

~Vaughn finishes crossing what he's working on, tying them together. And... nothing happens. Vaughn looks at them, scratching his head, before leaning over again.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, maybe those were for the headlamps. Let me try these two.

~Sadie, still shocked, opts to climb down into the boat, as the cameraman stays above. He's already shifted into work mode, recording the two inside the speedboat.~

Sadie Anderson: I... I thought you were going to swim across the lake? Wasn't that the whole point?

~Vaughn looks up, surprised. He's wearing a different outfit now, but it's more like a sailor's suit top with his swim trunks underneath.~

Peter Vaughn: No, no. The point was CROSSING the lake. I thought you understood that.

Cameraman: Hold on a second, Mr. Vaughn. You tried swimming it earlier today and got arrested. I thought you were trying it again.

Peter Vaughn: Well... I'll admit I thought about it. But I tested that water, and you know what? It's pretty cold now. So taking this speedboat seemed like the smarter alternative. Unfortunately, they're not quite as lax as you are, so the keys to start it weren't here.

Cameraman: Hey, I'll have you know I don't normally leave my keys behind...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, and I bet you do it even less now. You're welcome.

~Through all this, Sadie's shock is wearing off, being replaced by a wave of anger.~

Sadie Anderson: So... you snuck out away from me. You stole this man's van. And all because of your insane need of completing something??

Peter Vaughn: I... well, I don't think of it as 'insane', per say... but essentially, yes. I'm sorry, Sadie, but you wouldn't have let me drive out on my own to come back here, would you?

Sadie Anderson: Certainly not!

Peter Vaughn: Exactly. So I improvised. Just as I'm used to doing in my career, and just like I'm doing now. Sometimes there are multiple ways to skin a cat, although I've never understood why someone would ever want to do that. Ahhh, here we go.

~Vaughn puts together another set of wires, and miraculously the boat's engine starts up. Sadie looks down, surprised that Vaughn was able to pull that off. The cameraman, meanwhile, is already looking back the way they came.~

Cameraman: That engine's too loud. They'll be coming.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, we can't wait around. So Sadie... care to join me on this adventure, now that you're here?

~Sadie looks up at the cameraman, who is shaking his head no, and then back to Vaughn. She lets out a deep breath.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, it's not like I can let you out of my sight now, can I?

Peter Vaughn: Heh. Nope. You're stuck with me.

Sadie Anderson: Then... let's get across this lake.

~Grinning, Vaughn makes sure the speedboat is untied from the dock, before looking up at the worried cameraman. He tosses him his set of keys, with the cameraman barely catches with one hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Thanks for the ride, my brother. You might want to get out of here. They'll probably recognize the van. See you next time.

~With that, Vaughn slams the accelerator forward, sending the speedboat flying away from the pier. The cameraman watches them go, then turns, startled, as he can see lights coming on at the nearby ranger station. He gulps, then grabs his camera and makes a run for the van. The final shot goes to Peter and Sadie, as the boat jets across the lake, with Sadie reaching over to hold Peter's hand. He smiles, as we slowly fade out.~


Some would say it's about the journey and not the destination.

I personally consider them both equally balanced, as all things should be.

You're going on another journey with me, Eddie. And I may give you a hard time about our competition, but far be it from me to take away from what you're becoming. Sure, I take a little pride in having started you on that path, as you had literally two choices after I tore you down: either stay broken or build yourself back up. You chose to reconstruct the Unbreakable Eddie Lyons, and while you haven't been tremendously successful since then, you've at least shown that you're better than the average competitor.

Of course, I'm exceptional myself, and we've yet to see if you can reach my level. But you're still better than Barnhart or the Troll, and even better than Rodrigo or Carter.

That's a good thing, boyo.

Now, we're still in my element. The Roulette Wheel can bring up so many things that you might be unprepared for, while I'll have had some experience in something similar. I mean, I've fought in basically every kind of match you can think of. I've gone from high-flying multi-platform affairs to exploding C4 barbed wire death matches. And between you and me, I hope that one doesn't come up on the wheel, because it tends to be messy for both competitors. That said, if it does, it does, and I know how to roll at the right time.

Something tells me your coach might have been lax in instructing you on that particular knowledge.

So experience still plays a factor, boyo, even if you don't want to believe it. You may be closer to me now than you were, but that's like a son being closer to his grandfather's talent level because he learned how to play Uno. That won't stop his grandfather from blasting him continuously with Draw Fours until the kid can't even hold up all the cards. It just means that maybe he's learned to play a wild card at the right time to try and stay alive.

I know all about this game of ropes & rings, Eddie. I've been through it all. And I still have a long way to go before I'm hanging it up in the future. My journey is far from over. Yours is still, really, in its beginning stages. And you can still be great. You can still make your way up to the top of the Sin City roster. But that's your future destination.

For now, your journey goes through me... and I guarantee a lot of bumps in the road.

So make your choices, Eddie. Choose your decisions carefully. Challenge me how you think you must, knowing that it might be a handicap that you can't overcome. Prove yourself a worthy successor to my championship reign. Or get out of my way, because I'll still be on the hunt for the best of the best to hold this Roulette Title above their head.

It could be you. It could also be your downfall.

All journeys have an end, after all. And sometimes the end comes much sooner than anyone ever expects.

And if it goes that way, kid, then I'm sorry. But you'll be taking the Plunge all the way back to the starting line.

See you in Arizona, boyo.


19
Supercard Archives / Crisis In Confidence P1
« on: December 09, 2023, 11:58:06 PM »
~The van makes its way down the road, having left the city of Dallas behind. It makes its way around a few curvy roads, before coming into sight of the sign at the turn, reading "White Rock Lake". It turns in, heading towards the parking area, before coming to a full stop. Our beloved cameraman (don't believe me? He's got his own Reddit following!) steps out, looking up for a second as the drone flies down towards him. He catches it, and in a nifty piece of editing, the shot changes from his face to a spin-around shot of the park, now shot from his hand-held camera.~

Cameraman: So... if I was a Peter Vaughn, where would I be?

~He turns back and forth, looking over at the signs for the long hiking trails all around the park.~

Cameraman: Ummm... let's make that the last resort.

~Instead, the cameraman heads over towards the picnic area near the lake, where he can see several couples braving the cooler weather in order to have a meal outside. He focuses in on one beautiful lady who is pulling out a strawberry from her basket and giving it to her man to eat from her fingers. The two lean in seductively towards each other... and then both turn, as one, to stare at the camera. They immediately lean away from each other, looking uncomfortable, as the camera shakes for a moment.~

Cameraman: Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Carry on. Food looks delicious. Yes sir.

~The cameraman hurries away, not wanting to get himself beat up by accident. He sighs, panning across the rest of the crowd, the pier, and the lake, and then turns towards the hiking trail... and then stops. He turns back to the pier, focusing in to where we can see a single individual sitting on a post near the end of it, staring out towards the lake. Having found his 'prey', the cameraman moves out, making his way carefully over the slightly-rickety pier to get to where Peter Vaughn is sitting.~

Cameraman: Hey there, Mr. Vaughn. It's a little chilly to be this close to the water, isn't it?

~For a few seconds, Vaughn doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring out over the water.~

Cameraman: Well, if the cold doesn't bother you, I guess it won't b-bother me either. So how are you doing? Want to cut a promo?

~The silence stretches on... until...~

Peter Vaughn: How'd you find me?

Cameraman: What?

Peter Vaughn: You heard me. How'd you track me here? I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I didn't even let the head office know, so you can't say it was them. So how'd you know I'd be here?

Cameraman: Ummm... well...

Peter Vaughn: Did you put a tracking device on Gabriella? If you did that to her, so help me, boyo...

~Vaughn stands up, uncharacteristically angry. But the cameraman quickly backs off, not wanting to get thrown into the water.~

Cameraman: No! It's... it's nothing like that... I mean, I DID track you, but not through anything like that...

Peter Vaughn: Then how? You hire a spy satellite to follow me around? Pay the government to do your dirty work?

Cameraman: With what money?

Peter Vaughn: ... Okay, fair point. But you found me somehow...

Cameraman: Yes, by your social media presence.

~Vaughn takes a few moments to think about that one, confused.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't have a social media presence. I mostly stay off social media nowadays.

Cameraman: You do, yes. But your fans, well, they're kind of all over it.

~The cameraman gets out his phone and tosses it to Vaughn so it can be recorded. Vaughn takes a look, seeing several pictures taken of him without his knowledge. The last few appear to be at the White Rock Lake entrance and parking area.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously? Respect of privacy, my ass.

Cameraman: Hey, you're a star, Mr. Vaughn. People love to say they've been in the proximity of someone like you.

Peter Vaughn: A star, huh? That's a laugh.

~Suddenly moody again, Vaughn goes back to his seat on the pier, staring back out onto the water. The cameraman, puzzled, moves to the side of him, being careful where he steps.~

Cameraman: But... you ARE a star, Mr. Vaughn. I wouldn't be here otherwise.

Peter Vaughn: You're here because they paid you to be here, camera-dude. Same thing with me. They just pay me to be there.

Cameraman: Well, yes, technically, but they pay you a lot more...

~Vaughn reaches down, picking up a rock from a pile that had been sitting on the pier. He tosses it, causing it to skip across the water a few times before stopping. It's no professional skip, but it's decent.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, I had it all ahead of me, boyo. I had it pictured in my mind. I would find the worthy contender to take the Roulette Championship and continue building it up, and once that was done, I would set my sights on the Heavyweight Division. I would take the fight to all of them that didn't think I was good enough, and plant them all into the ground.

Cameraman: I mean, I 'think' that plan is still...

Peter Vaughn: That PLAN is DEAD and GONE!

~Vaughn angrily throws another rock, and this one doesn't do any skipping across the lake. It just hits with a loud splash before sinking beneath the water.~

Peter Vaughn: I should have seen it coming. I should have planned for other alternatives. I should have had a way to zig when they think I'm going to zag. But it didn't work out. I went in unprepared, and it cost me.

Cameraman: What are you talking about?

Peter Vaughn: I'm talking about how I've been blocked from the Heavyweight Division. Perhaps for 3 months, perhaps longer.

Cameraman: I haven't heard any such thing, Mr. Vaughn...

Peter Vaughn: Then you weren't paying close enough attention. You see, they saw me as a threat, especially when I took down their #1 contender. I should have seen it when J2H demanded a match with me on short notice, rather than waiting for my proper challenge in the future. I should have realized that they wanted me to fail. And it happened. I got pinned by the champ. 1-2-3. Middle of the ring. No distractions from Raven, he was told to stay in the back. A clean loss to the guy they all call a God here... and now here I am, stuck between worlds. Too good for the Roulette Division, not good enough for the Heavyweight Division. Where does that leave me?

Cameraman: ... The Internet Division?

Peter Vaughn: Hah. That's funny, boyo. You're a funny guy.

~Vaughn chucks a few more rocks, rocks he probably gathered himself before sitting here, as the cameraman watches and thinks of how to make sure he doesn't get thrown at next.~

Cameraman: Still, Mr. Vaughn... you've done great things here. You hold the record for the longest reign as the Roulette Champion. What is it up to nowadays?

Peter Vaughn: 217 days.

Cameraman: That's an astonishing number, Mr. Vaughn. And you can continue that by taking down Eddie Lyons at December 2 Dismember. You can go into a brand new year still the Roulette Champion!

Peter Vaughn: Which means I stay put. I stay idle. I keep getting the same challengers thrown at me again and again. I mean, what makes Eddie Lyons worthy this time? I knocked out Lyons at Violent Conduct. Since then, he's had his opportunities to learn from what I showed him, and to become an elite athlete. But he's failed, and now he's been sent back for another bite of the apple... because he couldn't go anywhere else. Just like me.

~The final rock is thrown, splashing across the lake before sinking to the bottom. Vaughn looks at it, shaking his head.~

Peter Vaughn: We're both stuck.

~With that, Vaughn unzips his usual coveralls, dropping them to the ground. Underneath, we can see he's wearing a light t-shirt and what appear to be swim trunks. He looks out over the lake, thinking it over, as the cameraman clears his throat.~

Cameraman: Uhh... it's illegal to swim here, Mr. Vaughn. Mr. Vaughn? Wait!

~But Vaughn doesn't listen. He dives into the cold water, disappearing from sight under the water as he swims away.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn! Come back! That water is freezing! Mr. Vaughn!!

~The cameraman's shouts seem to get the attention of some park rangers, as they can be seen rushing down the pier as the cameraman turns to them. They head for a small raft attached to the pier, set up for rescues when needed. The two men hop in and untie the raft, heading out after Vaughn, who has apparently decided to just swim across the entire lake... or just disappear near the center of it. The raft takes off, chopping through the water, as the cameraman waits on the pier, anxious and helpless. He brings the camera lens back down, focusing on Vaughn's discarded coveralls, as we fade out.~


~As the picture comes back up, we find Peter Vaughn sitting in a back room, covered in towels. A woman walks in, staring at him for a moment before handing him a smoking cup. Vaughn takes it, drinking down the liquid, before glancing down at it.~

Peter Vaughn: That's not coffee.

Ranger: No. It's peppermint tea. But you need something hot in your system after that swim.

~Vaughn shakes his head, putting the cup to the side.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm fine.

Ranger: You're NOT fine. That was a dangerous swim you just took. That water was a low enough temperature that you probably wouldn't have made it back to shore.

Peter Vaughn: So you doubt me. Just like everyone else.

Ranger: "Doubt you"? I don't even care about you, sir, other than that I didn't want a dead body floating in my lake. Now you drink that tea, right now, and then we'll talk about what's going to happen next.

~The ranger leaves, as Vaughn looks over at the still-steaming cup of peppermint tea. He picks it back up, taking another sip and wincing.~

Peter Vaughn: Needs more alcohol.

~He holds onto the cup, using the warmth at least, even if he hates the taste. He's still holding it when the door opens, letting in the midst of an argument.~

Ranger: I didn't say you could go...

Sadie Anderson: No, it's what I said that matters. Peter? Are you okay?

~Vaughn's fiancé, Sadie Anderson, comes into the room and crosses to him, giving him a hug. He reciprocates with one arm, not wanting to spill the tea... in any fashion, really.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm fine, Sadie. I just need them to bring me my set of coveralls and I'll be out of here. They wouldn't let me go back for them when they grabbed me.

Ranger: When we pulled you from illegally swimming in the lake, you mean?

Peter Vaughn: I still don't get that. It's a lake. It was built for swimming. Okay, so maybe this one's also for resources, but still, making swimming illegal? That seems unconstitutional.

Sadie Anderson: All that matters is that you're okay, Peter. I've got you a set of clothes from the ranch. Get changed and we'll get out of here.

~Sadie hands over a bag, with Vaughn heading off to the side to change. He doesn't seem too concerned with modesty, as he throws off the towels. Fortunately for us, there's a strategically placed plant sitting there. The ranger looks away, focusing on Sadie instead.~

Ranger: I don't know that I can just let him walk away, Miss Anderson.

Sadie Anderson: You know as well as I do that the best you can do for this is fine him. I'll write out a check right now, and we'll be done with this.

Ranger: It's not just the fine. I also have to take his mental state into consideration.

Sadie Anderson: His mental state?

Ranger: If he was intent on drowning himself...

Peter Vaughn: But he wasn't.

~Vaughn walks back over, already dressed (coveralls are pretty quick, as are the boots). He straightens himself out and turns to Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Make sure you pay with a check from my personal account. And make it for a little bit extra, to cover all 'discomfort' this may have caused.

~He kisses Sadie on the side of the cheek, then turns and walks out the door. Sadie watches him go, before turning back to the ranger, who is shaking her head.~

Ranger: Just keep an eye on him, Miss. That's all I'm saying. Something's just not right.

Sadie Anderson: Of course. He's my responsibility, after all.

~Sadie nods, a little distracted as she works to set up payment for the fine. She looks back at the door, wondering if Vaughn is even waiting out there for her. We fade out.~


Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. The fates align again, do they not?

First off, I want to issue you an apology. I should have been focusing more on you. I should have talked to you out at the ring, tested you, and seen if you've become worthy of the Roulette Championship or not. I'm truthful when I say I want the division to be carried onwards, with me or without me, and I should have been putting that energy into seeing if you've grown since I smashed your head in with a sledgehammer.

Not many could say they've grown after something like that, but maybe you're one of them.

But I was distracted, I'm afraid. I was put into the meaningless feuds of others and used as a pawn by them. I let that happen. I should have told them no, I don't care if you've booked me against both of them, I have better things to do with my time. But I didn't. I went along with it, confident in my abilities, and now here we sit, with probably the least promoted match on the December 2 Dismember card. When it really, REALLY should be one of the main events.

After all, I've been unbeatable as the Roulette Champion. I've put on some of the greatest matches ever see in Sin City for the last year, thrilling all audiences and earning that extra money on merchandise sales. You come into this as someone who was once seen as a bright star in the heavens, and now you're threatening to burn out in a fiery end if you aren't able to defeat me this time. Basically, everything's on the line for you... and it didn't get talked about too much, did it? It got wasted.

And that's my fault. So my apologies, again.

So let's start over, Eds. Let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about our history, and how I pancaked you into the ground and knocked you cold, winning one of the most vicious matches I've had in Sin City. Let's talk about your recovery from that, and how you've struggled to make the most of any opportunities that have come your way since. Let's talk about the Internet Title, which I see is still not around your waist. It just didn't go your way, did it, Edds?

But now, thanks to whatever person in management that desperately believes you can still be saved, you've been booked against me again. But have you done enough to earn this assignment, my friend? Do you feel worthy of an epic war for the Roulette Title, one that makes everyone sit up and take notice of how DAMN GOOD this division really is? Are you energized for what's to come, bringing your fight to that squared circle and taking me on with every single bit of energy resting all the way to your pinkies, toes, and other extremities?

I tell you, Eddy, I'm really counting on you to bring the noise this time. I need you to go full power against me and prove that you deserve what you've been given. Because it's really going to disgust me if I've been thrown into another match against someone who doesn't belong there. If that happens, well, in the state I'm in, I can't guarantee what I'll do to you.

Even if the roulette wheel comes up your way and makes it a standard match, I'll still break your leg if you don't give me 110 percent. I swear it.

Does it look like I'm lying?

I'm ready to move on from the division. I'm ready to turn to a new chapter in my life. But I can't just let anyone go by me, Edward. It has to be someone deserving. It HAS to be. Otherwise, what's the point of everything I've put myself through over the last year?

What would be the fucking point?


~Back at the ranch, Vaughn pulls in Gabriella, parking her in his favorite spot. It's a well-protected area, keeping his 'girl' safe from the elements. Vaughn hops out, moving around the truck, as Sadie pulls in with her own vehicle, parking next to him. She hops out, shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: You were really going fast there, Peter. Were you TRYING to get a speeding ticket?

Peter Vaughn: Nah, I knew the cops wouldn't come after us out here. They have better things to do with their time. And I do, too. I'm behind on checking on the cattle. Did they ever figure out what was making those two calves sick?

~Vaughn turns to head towards the barn, likely to get his horse, Midnight, out of his stall. But Sadie grabs his arm, stopping him.~

Sadie Anderson: We need to talk, Peter.

~Vaughn raises an eyebrow, looking down at Sadie's arm before taking a deep breath and staring into her eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn. The calves died? You can tell me, I can take it.

Sadie Anderson: N-no! The calves are fine! They just ate some weeds that didn't agree with them!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, so they got a little high? Hah, funny. So what's the problem then?

Sadie Anderson: The problem right now, Peter, is you. You're doing some crazy stuff right now, and it's got me a little concerned. What's with going skinny-dipping in the lake??

Peter Vaughn: Oh, no, I had trunks on. Believe me, I don't need photos like THAT getting out...

Sadie Anderson: THAT'S NOT THE POINT!!

Peter Vaughn: Then what is it?

~Sadie takes a brief moment to calm herself, before focusing back on her fiancé, who is waiting surprisingly patiently.~

Sadie Anderson: Look... you've been like this ever since you lost to J2H. But it's just one defeat! I've seen you bounce back from plenty before this.

Peter Vaughn: ... This one's different.

Sadie Anderson: Why? What's so different about it?

Peter Vaughn: Because... it just is, that's all. You know I've made a lot of money working for Sin City, right?

Sadie Anderson: I suppose so.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I could have been making more. So much more, if I wanted. All I had to do was step up... and the first time I do, the first time I answer their little challenge... well, let's just say that maybe I should just concentrate more on being a rancher here.

Sadie Anderson: Not that I'd mind having you here more often, and not going overseas all the time, but wrestling's in your blood. It's what drives you. You love that Roulette Championship.

Peter Vaughn: Maybe so. And maybe love... is what's destroying me.

~With that comment landing hard, Vaughn turns and walks away, heading to the stalls. Sadie watches him go, a shocked look on her face.~


You see this championship, Eddie? Take a good, long, hard look at it. See the lines criss-crossing the front, the gold shining in the light, and this lovely name patch placed right underneath. The name of Peter Vaughn. Roulette Champion.

I have put my blood, sweat, and tears into this title for approaching eight months now, Eddie. I have fought in Ultimate X matches. Bar brawls. Stretcher matches where I had to be inspirational to win. I've flown off of ladders, I've used every weapon imaginable, and I've brought the heat to every single fight I've had. I've earned the title of the longest-reigning Roulette Champion, and no one out there can take that record away from me.

Certainly not you. You blew your chance at stopping me, after all.

I have done everything in my power to make the Roulette Championship one of the most sought-after titles in the world of professional wrestling. I have put on all-star bouts all around the world, and I'm prepared to do it again at December 2 Dismember. Whatever that wheel comes up with? I'm determined to give everything I've got and more to put on the match of the night.

And yes, I've had the match of the night on several occasions, no matter what those "five-star morons" out there who do the ratings think.

So it's all on you, Eds. Can you keep up with me? If it's a staple gun match, are you willing to aim for the eyes? The testicles? Whatever body part is available? If it's a scaffold match, are you gusty enough to put your health and well-being on the line far above the crowds, seeing your own life flash in front of you if you take a single misstep? If it's inside a steel cell, will you try to strip the flesh from my bones against the side of the cage? Because I can tell you right now, Eds: I'm willing to do all those things to you. And more.

Whatever the stipulation ends up being, I'm coming in there to finish you. And you're going to have to come up with a way to stop me.

I'm still not convinced you're the man to do it, Eddie. But I'm willing to be proven wrong. If you can keep fighting after I've torn you limb from limb, declaring it nothing more than a flesh wound, then you'll earn my respect... and maybe you can even earn the Roulette Championship for yourself.

But if you don't, then the run continues, Eddie. The title will stay around my waist into the new year, as I continue my search for something worthy. Someone that's not you.

And you'll have to live with that. You'll have to live with my crushing your dreams once again into dust, and sending your remains blowing away on the breeze. Actually, that sounds pretty hard to live with, doesn't it?

So bring your A game. Bring the Lion to the tournament grounds and let's see if my gladiator can shut him down. One spear to the throat, that usually works. Or maybe I'll just do it with my bare hands. It just depends on the stipulation, doesn't it?

You must want it badly, in order to be willing to sign up for this match again. I mean, didn't your relatives tell you to back down? That I almost killed you once, and I might finish the job next time, even without meaning to? But you still signed. You at least have the intestinal fortitude to get into the ring with me once more. So maybe... maybe there's a little bit of worthiness there. But I have to see an improvement, Eddie. I have to see you being willing to be great.

Come and get it, Eddie.

Or get ready to once again take the Plunge... and spend some more time in the local hospital, eating Jello through a straw.


~The picture comes back as Sadie sits on the back porch, waiting for Vaughn to come back. She knows that they still have plenty to discuss. As she waits, she's joined by another ranch hand, Keith Cooper, who comes out to keep her company.~

Keith Cooper: So he's still not back yet?

Sadie Anderson: Not yet. But you know Peter. He needs to get this out of his system. Maybe a ride with the cattle will do him good.

Keith Cooper: Yeah. I'm sure he'll shake this off eventually. The man made himself a legend in the wrestling business, after all. He'll recover.

Sadie Anderson: I'm hoping so, Keith. But I have to admit... something about this feels... different. And he's not willing to talk to me about it, which is a little discouraging...

~Keith puts a hand on her shoulder, comforting her.~

Keith Cooper: All you can do is be there for when he comes to you, Sadie. That's how my wife and I have been married for 20 years. You're there when you're needed, even if it's when you're not wanted.

Sadie Anderson: I appreciate that, Keith. Truly. We just need to talk things out, that's all.

Keith Cooper: Hey, is that him returning now?

~The two turn towards the sound of a trotting horse, coming back out of the darkness. The horse gets closer, and we can see it's Midnight, returning home on pure instinct... as he's currently riderless. Keith and Sadie both jump up, surprised, as Midnight stops in front of them, giving a guttural neigh towards them, ready to be fed. Keith steps off the porch and grabs Midnight's reins, looking him over.~

Keith Cooper: I don't see any injuries. No signs of anything that would have made him buck...

Sadie Anderson: But... but where's Peter??

~Sadie immediately starts to jog towards the barn to get her own horse, as Keith brings Midnight with him. He also pulls out his phone, quickly pressing a number.~

Keith Cooper: Call the boys up. We've got a missing man to find.

~They move off, as the camera pans in the direction Midnight came from. There are no sounds. We slowly fade out.~


20
Climax Control Archives / The Future Vs. The Past - Which Is More Important?
« on: December 01, 2023, 08:26:42 PM »
~As the picture comes into focus, we can see the side of a large van. The door slides shut, as the cameraman turns away from it, looking around the area as we see a grassy area in the distance. He doesn't head that way, though, turning towards the multi-story building to his north, judging by the sun.~

Cameraman: I don't get why we're meeting here... but at least it's not that rickety old building under construction. It's just a rickety old building NOT under construction. Sigh.

~The cameraman heads for the doorway, making his way inside. A quick elevator ride takes him to the correct floor, allowing him to avoid any unnecessary stairs this time around. He comes out, passing by a few plaques, one of which has a familiar silhouette designed into it. We don't stop to read the information, though, as the cameraman has a set destination in mind. He comes around a corner, to see Peter Vaughn standing there, staring out a window. He looks over as the cameraman approaches, nodding to him.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, my man. Right on time as always. I've always admired that about you. Your... promptness.

Cameraman: My father always told me to never be late. Beat me silly one day when I came in 10 minutes after curfew. Guess his 'lessons' stuck with me.

Peter Vaughn: That... is a remarkably dark story, my friend.

Cameraman: Yeah, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...

Peter Vaughn: No, probably not. But that's okay. It's always good to learn more information about someone... even something like that. It makes it easier to understand you.

~Vaughn turns back to the window, staring out once again. The cameraman, clearly embarrassed by his admission, moves a little to the right to get the best lighting. He seems to think it's best to get things moving, a decision I heartily concur with.~

Cameraman: So, not that I'm complaining, but why are we meeting here instead of your new building that's being worked on?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, uh... yeah, I was kind of told that I should stay away for a while until the construction is a little further along. Y'know, after the... incident...

~The camera nods slightly, as we all remember how Vaughn recently fell through the damaged roof of the building, though thankfully, he was spared from any serious injuries.~

Peter Vaughn: Seems that, even as the owner of the building, I'm not exactly covered under their insurance. So I'll leave the work up to them for the next month, see where it takes me. Until then, I figured given the circumstances of my next match, we could come here.

~Vaughn gestures towards the window, before leaning back against the nearby wall.~

Peter Vaughn: By the time Climax Control rolls around, I'll have spent over 210 days as the Roulette Champion. The record is locked down, and getting only more unbeatable with time. But that hasn't been my focus the last few weeks, has it? No, my focus got changed last Climate Control, when I faced off against the SCW Heavyweight Title #1 Contender, Alexander Raven. And what did I do? I defeated him, just as I expected to, thanks to him overlooking me in favor of the champ. The Keyholder is really racking up some victories lately, huh?

~Vaughn smirks to himself, knowing it's one of his older maneuvers, but also knowing how dangerous it can be on its own. He turns back towards the window.~

Peter Vaughn: Apparently my victory over the #1 contender caused some reverberations throughout Sin City, because all of the sudden, they announced that now I'd be facing the champion himself, J2H, in a Non-Title match. A Clash of the Champions, if you will. The best of the best, facing off, with nothing on the line but pride, grit, and glory. It's funny, really. J2H talks such a big game, but seeing me win over supposedly his toughest competition, and he makes it non-title. Why take the risk, I suppose.

~Vaughn waves the cameraman closer, and he reluctantly moves towards the window, obviously cautious when it comes to anything involving Peter Vaughn and heights. Vaughn points downwards, through the specially-constructed window, towards the street below.~

Peter Vaughn: You see down there, boyo? You're seeing the view that one man saw a little over 60 years ago, on November 22nd, 1963. This is where it's believed that Lee Harvey Oswald stood, his Carcano Model 38 infantry carbine in his hands as he watched President John F. Kennedy's limo parade make its way down the street. It was quite a sight, I have to assume, watching the people all along the parade route, celebrating one of the most popular presidents in history... and preparing to end that, from right here.

~Both the cameraman and Vaughn stare out the window, as if replaying that infamous scene that took place here in their minds. The screaming. The first lady, Jacqueline, reaching out to the agent across the trunk. The collapse of a dream.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, this happened before we were born, didn't it?

Cameraman: Definitely, LONG before I was born.

Peter Vaughn: But we grew up with that image, nonetheless. The tragic assassination of a President. Did Oswald realize what he was setting in motion that day? With his position here?

~Vaughn raises up his hands, as if holding a rifle, as he points towards the streets below. He's not the first to do this, and will certainly not be the last, but there's still something uneasy about the view, as if Vaughn's putting himself in the mind of one of the best-known assassins of the 20th century.~

Peter Vaughn: Now, don't get me wrong. At his heart, Oswald was a nutcase who deserved to die the way he did, falling on live TV. He was a crazy fool without the brains to even plan a proper escape route. But I'd be remiss to not note that standing here in this place, I, too, have the opportunity to take a lethal shot at the head man in charge right now. On December 3rd, I have the chance to wound J2H in a way that he never expected, potentially ruining his main event match with Alexander Raven at December 2 Dismember. And I can do that... by beating him in the center of the ring, and proving that the Roulette Champion has been the greatest wrestler in Sin City all along.

~Vaughn cocks his imaginary gun, then pantomimes firing a shot or two off. Of course, nothing happens, because we can't control anything with our imaginations, now, can we? Vaughn smirks, lowering his arms.~

Peter Vaughn: And you know the best part of it, my friend? It'll all be because of his hubris. He's going to do exactly the same thing that Alexander did. He's going to overlook me, thinking that I'm not the threat, as I'm sure Alexander is going to show up at some point or another. And again, it's going to be a fatal mistake, as I'll be ready to use one of my "stupidly-named" maneuvers to plant him into the canvas. And then, when he wakes up, he'll have to realize that he was looking the wrong direction the whole time.

~With that, Vaughn points to one specific corner of the window, which appears to have been highlighted to allow viewers to more easily see through it. The cameraman zooms in on that spot, getting a clear view of the field below... which is basically a grassy knoll.~

Peter Vaughn: And then, well, I'll move on to taking out Eddie Lyons and continuing my unstoppable Roulette Title run, while Alex and James will continue on to their "main event" fight... knowing that the best competitor won't be in their match. He'll have already made fools of both of them, setting up a guarantee of greatness to come in 2024. And I'm very much looking forward to laughing at both of them when they walk down the aisle, their hidden shame showing through the cracks exposed in their armor.

~The Mechanic chuckles, finding it deeply amusing in his own, strange way. He then turns, as the cameraman zooms back out to get a full shot of him, catching it as his demeanor completely changes.~

Peter Vaughn: So the YO Ranch Steakhouse is not far from here. Want to go get a bite to eat? My treat.

Cameraman: ... Is this because I told you about my father earlier?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, we don't HAVE to go...

Cameraman: No, no, I'm not turning down an opportunity for some free steak. Let's go!

~Vaughn nods, stepping away, as the camera once again focuses on the nearby window, a scene of such violence 60 years ago. The picture then fades out.~


~The blackness of the screen slowly dissolves into a circle cutaway, an unusual sight for any promotional video. As it comes up, we see a brightly burning fire in the fireplace, sending warmth and light throughout the large room. A couple of kids can be seen, happily playing with their new toys, moving them across the floor as if driving the cars themselves. They're giggling, even as the woman steps into the picture in a long dress, stepping over both of them before turning back in their direction.~

Sadie Vaughn: James, Matthew, go and wash your hands, and then you can have some of these Christmas cookies I just finished baking.

~The two kids jump up, cheering, before running out of the room, presumably washing their hands in the kitchen sink. Sadie smiles lovingly as she sets the tray of cookies down on the main coffee table nearby, before turning to the man rocking back and forth in the easy chair, a pipe in his mouth and their youngest child in his arms.~

Sadie Vaughn: How is Kim doing, my loving husband?

~The man looks up, and even through the thick beard he's now wearing, we can see the eyes of Peter Vaughn. He grins, continuing to rock the child.~

Peter Vaughn: She's sleeping like an angel. Isn't she beautiful?

Sadie Vaughn: Of course she is. All our children are. Our lives are so wonderful, aren't they, Mr. Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: They sure are, Mrs. Vaughn.

~Vaughn snuggles the young child closer to him, smiling down at her. She seems to wake up at least partially, as a tiny hand reaches out, trying to grab hold of his beard. Grinning, Vaughn reaches out with his free hand, closing it on her delicate fingers...~


~And abruptly, Peter Vaughn sits up hard in bed, breathing heavily and sweating. He wipes a hand across his forehead, shaking, as he reaches over and hits the nightstand light. The room brightens up, showing that Vaughn is currently alone in his bedroom. He pulls his feet over the edge of the bed, leaning on his knees, as he tries to pull himself together. With one quick motion, he stands, going over to the side and putting on his shirt across his always-impressively-hidden abs, tugging it down. He then quickly slides into his shoes and heads out of his bedroom, heading downstairs and out of the main homestead of the PMV Ranch. He still looks shaky as he walks out, especially when he jumps when a voice rings out at him.~

Keith Cooper: Everything okay, boss?

~Vaughn turns and looks to the side, where one of his best hands, Keith, is sitting up in his rocking chair, staring at him. For a moment, Vaughn looks thrown off, but he finally remembers that they'd been having people stay on alert, due to some recent coyote attacks on animals in the area. He nods to Keith, trying to hide any anxiety he's got going on.~

Peter Vaughn: Just felt like taking a ride, Keith. Everything good so far tonight?

Keith Cooper: Yes, sir. No sign of anything, it's been peaceful as a night can be.

Peter Vaughn: Good, good. Well, I'm going to get out there. I shouldn't be too long.

Keith Cooper: That's fine, boss. Monty will be out soon to replace me anyway. You... sure you're alright? You look a little pale...

Peter Vaughn: Paler than usual?

~Both get a small laugh out of that, as no matter how much time Vaughn spends working outdoors on the ranch, his skin just doesn't seem to tan.~

Peter Vaughn: Appreciate the concern, Keith, but I'll be alright. Have a good night.

~Keith nods, as Vaughn heads off to the stables in order to wake up his horse. For a few moments, Keith is expressionless, as he thinks things over. He then makes up his mind, as he turns and steps into the homestead, disappearing from view.~


I've heard people say a good night's sleep is essential for being at your best.

It makes me wonder how much greater a competitor I could be if I could just get at least 6 hours a night without waking up. But I can't help it. My mind is always winding, thinking things through at all hours. For instance, I was just thinking a few nights ago about how J2H's ego has to be heavier than the Chrysler Building. I mean, just think of this guy, watching my match with Alexander Raven and continuously saying that it was boring, crapping on the very product he's supposed to be representing. And yet, as soon as I was victorious and he got through listening to Raven's complaints, J2H rushed to the back and basically demanded a non-title match against me.

If I was so boring to watch, boyo, why'd you want to fight me so bad?

I can think of two reasons right off the top of my head. One would be that your cockiness knows no bounds, and you believe that you can easily beat me and show up Raven once more, giving you that psychological edge going into your match. Now, the problem with that one is that you didn't put the title on the line, which means you might ACTUALLY think I can take you down, so you didn't want to risk it and create a Triple Threat situation at the PLE.

After all, you're not an idiot. At least, I hope you're not. Because if you truly believe that you can take me without breaking a sweat, your sanity is truly in question, and I'm going to walk out of there victorious in no time flat.

So that brings me to the other reason you might have wanted this match so bad: you wanted to test yourself. You saw that I am the most dangerous threat to your championship coming up the road, and you thought, "let's start this off with a battle with no consequences, so that I can learn more about this dangerous opponent before my gold is on the line". Hey, it's a sound plan. After all, when I defeat you, you could always blame it on Raven, and how your attention was split rather than focused.

Always good to plan an exit strategy that can salvage your pride, right?

Now, I know what you're going to say. You're going to talk about that tag match we had, right? The one where you and Harris worked against Goth and I, and we fell short against you. And hey, you'd be right to bring it up. I have a terrible tag-team record, something I'm going to work hard to rectify in 2024. I have a lot of work ahead of me to be a more reliable, trustworthy partner in someone's corner, there's no doubt.

That said, this is a singles match, my friend, which means the tag fight we had is now completely irrelevant. I won't have to worry about my partner tapping out, and you won't get the advantage of having your partner win everything for you right before he had his epic meltdown and left Sin City behind.

In other words, you're not going to be able to reach out for help when I've got you in a compromising position.

But it's what you wanted, isn't it? You saw Raven and I have a big-time fight, and you decided you wanted me a week later, when you're well-rested. Maybe a little rusty. Maybe a little lazy. I guess we'll find out if you're happy with what you wished for once Climax Control is over. Because quite simply, J2H, you're facing the same exact issue that ol' Raven did: you're going to be worrying about what Alex is doing, at all times. Hell, I'm shocked it hasn't been announced yet that Raven's going to be on commentary at ringside, EXACTLY like you were.

If Raven doesn't do that, well, it's quite stupid of him, frankly. But even then, I suspect that you'll be watching the stage entrance, watching the crowd, watching behind you every chance you get, expecting the ambush. That's going to stick in your head like an itch you just can't scratch, in that very lower spot on your back. It's going to drive you looney tunes, feeling that anxiousness building and building inside you the longer the match goes on... and trust me, our match is going to go on for quite some time, unless you goof up right off the bat.

I don't see that happening, but I'll be prepared to capitalize nonetheless.

A focused J2H vs. a top-of-the-line Peter Vaughn is sure to be a match that blows away all records in the future. It's going to be a contest that the historians will write about, an epic story that all begins in their books this Sunday. It should easily eclipse the wars of J2H and Michael Harris, which ended with the story unfinished. But that incredible match is going to wait for the future, because there's no possibility that you're going to be locked in, James. You're going to be a loose cannon, and I'm going to take full advantage of it, adding your majestic name to my List of the Vanquished.

And when you're sitting up at night, sleepless, thinking about how your horrible decision has backfired on you so severely, I want you to remember this moment. Right now. When I told you so.

And then go get yourself a glass of warm milk and pull your blanket closer to you, and try to get a tiny bit of shut-eye, if you can... before you see me reappear in your nightmares once more.


~The night sky is relatively clear at the moment, so many stars and constellations can be seen. Vaughn has gotten off of his horse, ironically choosing Midnight to ride out with tonight, and is sitting on a rocky cliff, staring up at the stars. He seems to be really thinking some things over, as he starts talking out loud... but not quite to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: As strange as it sounds, I do miss you sometimes, Dad.

~Vaughn stares upwards, as if seeing the face of his now-deceased father looking down on him. But above, there is only the night sky.~

Peter Vaughn: We didn't have the greatest of relationships near the end, thanks to what I'd been through... but I still knew, even in my maddest days, that you were the person I could talk to when life took a turn. And I feel like I just spun through a roundabout, Dad, a little out of control.

~With that, Vaughn reaches down, picking up a piece of rock off of the cliff he's sitting on, tossing it up and down a few times.~

Peter Vaughn: I honestly thought I'd only ever have to worry about who my next opponent is, be it a wrestling buffoon desperately clinging to his image of superiority or an old-school rancher protecting his brand by trying to shut me down. But frankly, I never considered another possibility..... a family.

~With that, Vaughn crumbles the rock in his hand, breaking it up into multiple pieces. He shifts and throws the pieces off the cliff, listening to them roll down the hill, creating their own mini avalanches on the way down.~

Peter Vaughn: But now I'm engaged, Dad. To a beautiful young woman, probably not someone I deserve. I think you'd approve of her, though. She's tough, she's strong, and she goes straight to the point. And she's told me, when we're married... she wants kids.

~For a moment, Vaughn looks at his hand, still covered in some dust from the rock he crushed. It doesn't look like any blood was shed, at least.~

Peter Vaughn: Why is that a concern to me, Dad? Why do I see that as a danger in the future, instead of something to shoot for? Why does the mere thought of having kids of my own wake me up at night? Is it because of what happened with our family? Is it because I don't trust myself to be a dad worthy of Sadie... worthy of kids... worthy of you?

~Vaughn dusts his hand off, before slowly pulling himself to his feet.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know, Dad. I don't have you here to give me any answers, and I don't know if I would have gone to you if I could. But it's something I'm going to have to work on. It's something I'm going to have to resolve... one way or another.

~For a few more moments, Vaughn stares out into the abyss of space in front of him, as if looking for some response. There's none. With that, Vaughn sighs and turns back to his horse... only to hear the sounds of trotting coming from another direction. He turns, looking to the side... as Sadie Anderson rides up on her horse, Cinnamon. She stops, dismounting easily, as she turns towards her fiancé, studying him.~

Sadie Anderson: Hi, Peter. Pleasant night, isn't it?

~Vaughn, still confused, steps forward to meet her, as we cut away again.~


I want you to know, J2H, that through all of this, I still respect you as a champion.

Sure, I may hate your name. I mean, who calls themselves Jay-Double-Hech and thinks they'll be treated seriously anywhere other than the wrestling world? But that doesn't mean I take from that and see you as inferior in any way. You proved yourself against some of the best in the business, after all. You won a Six-Way match to get that championship back after Harris beat the pants off of you in that Barbed Wire Steel Cage match at Violent Conduct, and that shows true resiliency of character.

You came back from that bloody ass whooping and returned to the top, and that's all you can ask of a superstar in wrestling.

Now, do I think you've coasted since then? Absolutely. You basically took November off in Sin City. I mean, yeah, you made appearances on every show, coming out and bragging about your accomplishments and saying you're "a real champion" and all, but you deliberately made sure you didn't wrestle anyone throughout FOUR Climax Control cards. I can't remember the last time I've had a month off from wrestling in any promotion I'm in. I usually wrestle 2-3 times in 3-4 federations each month.

It keeps me feeling busy, y'know? And in control.

I don't think I could do it, Hawkes. I wouldn't be able to show up to so many shows, so many events, and not compete. It would drive me insane, seeing so many people get the thrill of smashing someone's teeth in, and not getting to enjoy it myself. Long breaks are not for me, because I want to stay fresh. I want to stay active. I want to dominate all competition I have a shot against, since time is always a factor. I don't want to reach an age where I can no longer compete, and think about all the potential matches I threw away.

I want to face everyone. EVERYONE.

But you, Juhh, you decided you didn't need to compete... until now. You didn't feel that thrill of competition. Maybe you just think of this as a business endeavor, rather than a sport of gladiators. Maybe you just care about the paycheck, although that doesn't seem to jive with what I've seen. Still, you took your sweet time asking for another match, didn't you?

But props to you on your selection coming back. You could have chosen the Troll. You could have picked up on Rodrigo or crushed the spirits of some newbie to the business. Instead, you chose to call me out, and I can respect that... even if it's vaguely insulting to want to face me in a non-title match right before December to Dismember. But we won't dwell on that.

But I do respect your abilities, J2H, even if you might underestimate mine. I'm coming into this contest knowing it's going to be a hard fight. I know that you're going to get your kicks in, and you're going to be hoping for some Solid Gold on that night. I've felt it before, so I know it isn't pleasant. That said, first-hand knowledge is really going to work in my favor. I know how to counter it now. I know how to beat you when you ignore my warnings and try to use it.

I've got a whole arsenal of tricks and maneuvers that I still haven't fully unveiled to the Sin City audience. I've got moves that have won me championships that I've been saving in my back pocket, waiting for the opportunity to unleash them on someone who's worthy. And you know what, James? You're worthy. You're deserving of me unleashing all of my talents to annihilate you inside that squared circle. You're worthy of me breaking out anything I've got, up to and including my favorite weapons.

Trust me, I know how to keep the referee from seeing them. They're mostly blind, anyhow, that's how they get these gigs.

So no, J-To-H, I won't be holding back in the slightest. For you, this is just a chance to puff yourself out a little more and try to shove it back in Alexander's face, but for me, this is a dream come true. This is a battle against one of the top wrestlers in SCW's history, another notch in my belt if I can just secure the victory. This is my chance to humble a legend. And damn, if I'm going to let it slip past me in any way, shape, or form.

I hope you're not too humiliated at the end of this, boyo. You'll need to take the bitterness afterwards and swallow it deep down your throat. Maybe take an antacid if you need to. But you'll have to put the embarrassment you feel at being squashed by The Mechanic behind you, if you want to stay the champion. Because, hey, if you let Raven take down you after all this, then I'm going to have to wait for the rematches and the eventual Best of 3 Series, and so on and so on... and THAT, my friend, is going to be boring.

So once you take The Plunge, pull yourself up and take care of business... and I'll be seeing you again, right down the road... champ.

And when we reach that point... I hope you have learned to respect me.


~After a few seconds slowly go by, Vaughn suddenly seems to realize that he needs to say something, as Sadie is patiently waiting.~

Peter Vaughn: So... you tracked me here?

Sadie Anderson: You say that like it was hard. You didn't exactly hide Midnight's trail, did you? Plus, we've been up here before, remember? I figured this was where you were headed.

Peter Vaughn: ... Yeah. It's a good place to come... and think.

~Silently, Sadie steps up to Vaughn, reaching out to hold his hand. She smiles at him, with a little of her concern showing through.~

Sadie Anderson: Is there anything I can do to help?

~Vaughn seems to think this over, looking down at the hand in his. For a moment, he sees the child's hand from his dream, crossing across his vision before disappearing once more. Instead of letting go, though, Vaughn tightens his grip, holding onto Sadie as he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah... there's something you can do. Just sit with me? For a while?

~Without saying anything, Sadie nods, and the two move onto the spot on the rocky cliff and take a seat, staring up at the stars and enjoying the night. Suddenly, Sadie gasps and points upwards, at a streak suddenly cutting across the Texas night sky.~

Sadie Anderson: Oh, look! A shooting star! I haven't seen one of those in forever! I have to make a wish...

~Sadie closes her eyes, mentally sending a wish out into the universe. Vaughn, for his part, stares at the star, watching it seemingly descend before disappearing in the night sky. He lets out a breath, before speaking softly to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: Thanks, Dad.

~As Sadie opens her eyes, looking over her future husband, she sees him wipe at his eye, as if some dust got blown into it... or something else. She doesn't comment, keeping her grip on Vaughn as she leans onto his shoulder. The two stay there for quite a while, looking up into the night, as we take our leave of them.~


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