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Messages - Peter Vaughn

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Climax Control Roleplays / 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.~

 

2
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.


3
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.


4
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.
 

5
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.~



6
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.~


7
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.~


8
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.~

9
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.


10
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.~


11
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.~


12
Climax Control Archives / What Does The Future Hold? Dates & Deadlines...
« on: November 24, 2023, 11:10:49 PM »
~As the picture slowly comes into focus, we find ourselves making the journey through the Garden of Betrayal, an open-air conservatory that Peter Vaughn built earlier this year. It's seen better days, as temperatures in Dallas have gotten below freezing, which means many of the roses have started to wilt away. They're going into hibernation, hopefully to return once the spring thaws out the ground. The cameraman, unfortunately, is not as lucky, as he's grumbling in the cold as he moves along the path.

Cameraman: Why come back here today? Couldn't we have met somewhere warm, like another restaurant or maybe a house with a fireplace? Hell, I'd even take going inside that death-trap next store... well, no, not that one, I'm never going back in there...

~The camera shakes for a moment, and not from the cold. The last time we saw this cameraman filming, it was when Vaughn fell through a weak spot in the roof of the multi-story building next to the Garden. Fortunately for Vaughn, he only suffered some bumps and bruises, coming through it like any other wrestling match. But the cameraman has no interest in being the next accident victim there. He comes around the corner of the "maze" of flowers, and comes to a stop as he sees the center pavilion ahead... covered in some sort of plastic.~

Cameraman: What the heck is this?? Damn it, did he send me to the wrong place again??

~The camera moves awkwardly, as the cameraman presumably works to get his cell phone out. We hear him dialing, followed by an answering ring... from inside the plastic-wrapped pavilion.~

Cameraman: What the...

Peter Vaughn: Hello?

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, hey, camera-dude. Good to hear from you. Are you on your way in? I'm ready for you.

Cameraman: I... I don't understand... how do I... where's the entrance?

Peter Vaughn: To the Garden? You've been here several times...

Cameraman: No, not the...

Peter Vaughn: Hold on, I'm getting a serious echo effect... oh, wait...

~One side of the plastic suddenly moves to the side, as Vaughn pokes his way out. He takes in the cameraman, grinning, before hanging up the phone.~

Peter Vaughn: Tricky there, boyo. Come on inside.

~Speechless, the cameraman steps forward, finally noting the small seam that was built in to create a 'door' inside the pavilion. Inside, it appears 10 times warmer, thanks to an industrial heater running off to the side. On the center picnic table, there are two cloches covering plates on either side. Confused, the cameraman steps up, but Vaughn stops him.~

Peter Vaughn: Nah, put the camera over there on the stand. You can't eat with your hands full.

~Still quiet, the cameraman does as he was asked, and soon both men are sitting in front of us, with Vaughn waving to the cloche in front of the man.~

Peter Vaughn: It's on an electric warming plate, but feel free to dig in.

~The cameraman reaches out, pulling the cloche carefully, as if expecting an explosion. But all that's underneath is a Thanksgiving-styled meal, including turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. He looks up at Vaughn, who shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: I had some leftovers from earlier.

~The cameraman doesn't seem to mind, as he starts digging into the meal with the utensils provided. At the same time, Vaughn turns and faces the camera on the stand.~

Peter Vaughn: So now it's all in the record books. The SCW Roulette Championship will now be locked in as the belt of Peter Vaughn. We're past 200 days now of me being the champ, and that's just going to continue until I find the right man worthy enough to hold this title and keep the belt pristine. Now, some would say that a guy like Alexander Raven is more than worthy...

~Vaughn seems to think to himself for a few seconds, and then shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: They're probably right. But Raven's got his sights set on that Heavyweight Championship right now, so he doesn't even care about taking me on for the gold. I respect that. He would be a horrible choice as the next Roulette Champion, because he would see it as a downgrade, no matter how ridiculous that assumption would be. I mean, I made this belt one of the most treasured titles in the world, and he should respect that. But he wouldn't, so I have no problems just keeping this one a non-title match.

~The cameraman just silently nods, as he sticks another piece of turkey into his mouth. This is better than anything he could have expected.~

Peter Vaughn: But it still is in my best interest to not back down against Alexis at all. I need him to feel like he's had the fight of his life... before he gets to have the fight of his life with J2H. Honestly, it's terrible booking for the man, because how's he going to manage being 100 percent against one of the toughest guys in Sin City when he's got to go to war with me first? And sure, there won't be any unique Roulette twists, but that doesn't mean that he will get through this match unscathed. Accidents happen... you know?

~With that, Vaughn steps forward and removes the second cloche. Unlike the cameraman's plate, this one doesn't contain any food. Instead, we see a variety of objects. An exposed turnbuckle. A metal pipe, usually found inside a guardrail. A piece of rebar, possibly from the edge of a ring. A timekeeper's bell. The cameraman, surprised, stares at the items, before continuing to eat, not wanting to waste the food.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, Alex, even in a regular match... there are some serious dangers. Items that may look harmless or part of the scenery, but can still be used without a threat of disqualification. Okay, the ring bell is a stretch... but you see what I mean, right, boyo? Are you content with the fact that you're risking your chance to win the Heavyweight Title at December 2 Dismember V for a match that will likely only end one way? I mean, I don't think your full heart is going to be in it, because you have so much to lose...

~With that, Vaughn picks up the metal pipe, studying it.~

Peter Vaughn: But me, Alexander? I already got my record. I've already done what I set out to do. Which means that I have absolutely nothing to lose in this one... which gives me everything to gain.

~Vaughn smirks, before slamming the pipe down on the table. It rattles everything, causing the cameraman to jump. Vaughn glances over at him, then drops the pipe back on the plate.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry. Got a little carried away. Enjoy the rest of your meal, and I'll see you next time. Turn off the heater before you leave, okay?

~With a quick nod, Vaughn heads out the plastic screen, which seals up behind him thanks to a conveniently placed piece of Velcro. The cameraman reaches over and takes a drink from the nearby cup, sighing in satisfaction. After a second or two, though, he slowly looks to the right, at the large heater nearby... a type of heater that he's never seen before.~

Cameraman: Uh... wait... Mr. Vaughn? Mr. Vaughn, I don't know how to turn this off...

~The cameraman hurries out of the pavilion, moving to try and catch up to Vaughn, as the camera keeps recording the empty room. What, did you expect a slow zoom in or something? It's not magic, people, someone has to be there behind the lens. It can be edited, though, as we see the shot cut off, taking us to a black screen.~


~The shot comes back in as we find ourselves in a small shopping mall somewhere in Dallas. Inside, the Black Friday sales are going, as small groups move around, filling up their carts with any deals that they can find. One such couple is moving along now, checking out the sales, although the guy doesn't seem too impressed.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously? A vacuum cleaner for $20 off? That's what constitutes a Black Friday sale nowadays? No wonder this place is basically dead.

~Vaughn looks around, still disappointed, as his recently-made fiancé, Sadie Anderson, steps up next to him and laughs.~

Sadie Anderson: You're such a cynic at times, you know that, Peter?

Peter Vaughn: I can't help it. I remember when the deals were so good, you had to fight off the crowds and win the war to grab the limited item that was 80-90% off. The blood, the violence, the conquest... those were damn good times. Now, look at this place? It's the most empty I've ever seen a store on Black Friday, and it's because nobody has the money for these crappy deals.

~To signify his point, Vaughn waves at another stand set off, offering a set of luxury towels for $4. The towels don't look particularly impressive, but without feeling the fabric, you can't really be sure it's not a deal, I suppose.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, at least we came out to look around. You never know when a sale like this will pay off. You know, we still need to make a wedding registry, so people can start thinking about what they need to bring to the reception.

Peter Vaughn: People actually do that? I thought it was only for a baby shower...

Sadie Anderson: Well, THAT possibility is still in the future...

[ ~Sadie blushes slightly, but Vaughn doesn't seem to see it. He's already stepping to the right, picking up a set of steak knives.~

Peter Vaughn: Twenty bucks? ... That's not terrible... but we don't need them.

~Vaughn puts them back, turning around to see Sadie standing in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: What? Did you want them? I can get them...

Sadie Anderson: It's not that, Peter, it's just that... at some point, we're going to have to talk about some details, aren't we?

Peter Vaughn: Details? Like steak knives?

Sadie Anderson: Like, for instance, when is our wedding going to be? You proposed to me, I said yes... and you haven't even talked to me about a date yet. Don't you think it's important for us to start working on that?

~Vaughn thinks about that for a few moments, moving to the side as another cluster of people move through. One of them grabs the steak knives, walking off with them, but Vaughn doesn't notice.~

Peter Vaughn: I have to confess, I wasn't that worried about it, really, Sadie.

Sadie Anderson: Not worried? Really??

Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean, I know we'd have to plan it for a time when I don't have a wrestling match scheduled in SCW, TPW, WGWF, or anywhere else. Although I know they do some weddings inside a ring, but that always seems to ask for trouble, and you don't need that. Then we'd have to plan it for a time when you and I could both get away from the ranch for a bit. I know the next season's coming in quickly, we'd have to train some people up. Then again, our staff is already pretty damn good, aren't they?

Sadie Anderson: Yes, but they, too, might want to come, you know?

Peter Vaughn: Eh, they wouldn't have to. I'm not going to be that kind of ranch boss and force it.

Sadie Anderson: And what about our family's schedule?

~A slightly darker shadow crosses Vaughn's face for a moment, but he shakes it away.~

Peter Vaughn: I mean, your family, certainly. My dad's gone, and my mom... well, there's always Thomas, I suppose.

Sadie Anderson: Of course your half-brother will be there.

~Sadie shakes her head as Vaughn moves further to the side, looking at another box, which apparently contains Black Friday pillows. Pillows. That's just awful.~

Sadie Anderson: I don't mean to put you on the spot...

Peter Vaughn: How about tomorrow?

Sadie Anderson: ... What?

Peter Vaughn: It's before my match at Climax Control. All of the staff is still around for the weekend. Even Thomas is hanging out with that new girlfriend of his, along with his kid. I know a minister or two, they'd probably be willing to do it, and then we can...

Sadie Anderson: No, Peter!

~Sadie's suddenly sharp tone catches Vaughn's attention, as he turns back to her, surprised. She looks upset, shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: I'm not marrying you tomorrow... not that fast! Not that... casually!!

~With a deep, painful sigh, Sadie turns and walks away, as Vaughn watches her go, looking completely bewildered.~

Peter Vaughn: But you said to pick a date!

~As Sadie disappears down another aisle, Vaughn takes a few steps forward, still not sure what to do. He looks back at the pillow stand, then suddenly lashes out, punching the top pillow. It goes flying several feet away, disappearing behind some clothes, as a shout rings out.~

Voice: Hey! Who threw... oh, wow, a pillow, I really needed one of those. Thanks!

~Vaughn doesn't respond, as he's already moving after Sadie now, trying to figure out what to do.~


There are still plenty of things in this world I don't understand.

Why do we call a package going by car a shipment, while a package going by ship is called cargo?

Why do the security guards at the airports always want to search me when I'm on my way to another match?

Why is Bill Barnhart still employed?

Yep, there are lots of questions I have, but the #1 question for me right now is what do the Sin City Bookers have against Alexander Raven?

They've really put you in a bind, Rave. I mean, c'mon, it's clear that you're going to be distracted in our match-up. They've even got J2H watching you face off against me from ringside. You think that you're going to be able to keep yourself 100% focused on The Mechanic with that kind of threat RIGHT THERE in your face? And if you want to be able to beat someone like me in a singles match, you definitely need to be 100 percent.

I'm thinking you'll be around 75%, and I may be feeling a little generous on that.

Now, don't get me wrong. A Raven at 75 percent is certainly still dangerous. You may be down a wing, but that still leaves the claws and that big beak of yours. Sorry, but your nose is a well-known danger to every wrestler, that's just a fact. But I don't care about J2H hanging out there. I'm not looking to impress anyone, or make any kind of statement. I've never had to do that before, and I'm sure as hell not going to start now.

People learn to respect me whether they want to or not. I don't need to force anything.

All it's going to take, Lex, is for you to turn your eyes towards J2H at the wrong second. You notice him, think about him, remember how you've got to somehow fight through that buzzsaw that tore you up at the last PPV... and in that instant, you're going to be vulnerable, and I'm going to strike. You know Revenged can come at any time, from virtually any direction. One second, my friend... one second.

One second before you find yourself waking up and realizing that you've lost it all.

I've known a lot of wrestlers that have described the sensation of the Revenged to me after the fact. It basically goes from you having all the faith in the world that you're still in the contest, to instantly coming to and asking the referee what happened. It's funny that the Plunge and the Keyholder both are dangerous maneuvers, but it's Revenged that really seems to be the most... painless. Still, it does the job, as you'll soon find out, boyo.

I wonder if that doubt is already starting to creep its way into your subconscious. That thought that, once you taste defeat at my hands (or feet, as the case may be), the fans will lose faith that you're a worthy main eventer to go for the World Title? Well, feel free to stuff that doubt down and crush it. You don't need to think that way. I honestly believe you're definitely a worthy contender for the belt. You're going to be one of the best wrestlers I've faced here in Sin City singles, I believe. I mean, who rates near you? Jack Washington, maybe?

I'm 2-1 now against him, by the way.

And losing to me would be no crown of dishonor to be worn. I've beaten many of the best in the business, and their careers have continued straight forward... well, most of them. I know, some people will bring up Caedus or Marshall, but those were different. I truly don't believe your career will go into the gutter by getting Plunged by me. I have no reason to ground another Raven, like I have James and Matthew.

I'm sure you know who I'm talking about. They're "famous", right?

The point is, Al, there's no shame in what's to come. There's no embarrassment. I think it's going to be an incredible contest, and while I'm fairly confident that I'm going to come out on top, you really shouldn't let it decide your fate. It's nothing that should really send that treacherous, doubting worm burrowing into your self-confidence, tearing it apart from within and leading you to have the most god-awful match ever seen in a main event of an SCW PPV.

You won't let that happen, Alex? Right? Because I certainly wouldn't want to be sitting there at the arena, having dispensed with Lyons once again, and seeing it happen. I wouldn't have a box of popcorn sitting with me, either, enjoying the entire moment. I definitely wouldn't be cheering J2H on as he knocks you cold with Solid Gold.

Nope. Wouldn't be me.

I know it's hard to understand, Raven... but I do still want you to succeed. Just not this show. Not this match. Not this time.

And never against me.


~We rejoin Sadie Anderson as she's currently in the furniture department of the store. She is sitting on one of the model beds, thinking things through. Behind her, we can see Peter Vaughn approaching, apparently with a box of Christmas chocolates in his hands. He slowly comes around Sadie, making sure she looks at him, before he offers the chocolates.~

Peter Vaughn: Here you go. Ummm, apparently they're half off today only.

~Sadie can't help but smile at the gesture, as it's both somewhat ridiculous and somewhat completely sincere at the same time. She pats the side of the bed, and Vaughn takes a seat next to her.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm sorry that I suggested tomorrow. I just... I tend to think things through too 'logically' at times, I guess.

Sadie Anderson: That's okay, Peter. I may have overreacted...

~Sadie sighs, then turns herself to look at her fiancé with sincere eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: I just... I always dreamed of the perfect wedding, Peter. I'm sure a lot of ladies have at one time or another. It's the moment that most of us, if we're lucky, we'll only have one chance at. I don't want to just do something simple, like the justice of the peace or Las Vegas. I want an honest-to-goodness, large-scale wedding that will make all of my friends from school jealous.

Peter Vaughn: Well, then... I guess I'll have to give that to you.

Sadie Anderson: It's not about "giving it", Peter. We're doing it together. It's our event. It's OUR wedding.

Peter Vaughn: I know that. I just... you have to remember, Sadie, that while you grew up with a great family and saw the best of everyone... I didn't. I saw my family dissolve. I saw other families around me collapse due to cheating or neglect. Sometimes both. It's not like I've seen many strong relationships in wrestling, either. So for me... this is an extremely new concept, and I just never... expected I would be here.

~You can see on Vaughn's face that he's flashing back to when his mother deserted their family, followed by the collapses of so many couples around him... some of which he helped cause. He's not proud of those... but he's not disgusted by them, either. They're just... there. He leans back on the bed, staring upwards.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to be trying to learn a lot as we go along, Sadie. I'm just in completely untraveled territory for me. But with your help... we can reach that perfect wedding. Whatever it takes. Whoever I have to take down to get there.

~Sadie leans back with him, the two now facing upwards towards the store ceiling. She smiles.~

Sadie Anderson: I doubt you're going to have to beat up too many people to make this happen, Peter. But I appreciate your enthusiasm.

~The two smile at each other, although there's a hint of disappointment in Vaughn's eyes. But that's to be expected.~

Sadie Anderson: We're going to find the right date. We're going to find the right venue. And we're going to end up husband and wife, in a day that we'll remember for the rest of our lives.

Peter Vaughn: That sounds... pretty good to me.

~As Vaughn inches forward, looking for a kiss, there's a sudden clearing of the throat near them. Both sit up, sitting a younger man standing there, his arms crossed.~

Young Man: Sorry, but I already bought this one. Didn't you see the sticker?

~He points to the side, where there is, indeed, a "sold" sticker on the edge of the model bed. Both Vaughn and Sadie exchange a look.~

Peter Vaughn: You seriously bought the model bed? With so many of them packed up around here?

Young Man: They give the best discounts on those. We... don't have much money.

~Behind them, we can see a younger woman sitting there, looking tired but happy. The small baby in her arms is deep asleep, thankfully, soothed by the rocking motion of the mother. Sadie, seeing this, nudges Vaughn with her elbow. He looks at her, confused, and she nods towards them, before nodding towards one of the other beds here. Vaughn sighs.~

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, kid. This bed sucks. Get your money back. I'll buy you one of the more advanced models over there.

Young Man: You'll... you'll buy it for us? Why?

~Vaughn glances over at Sadie, who's still smiling brightly.~

Peter Vaughn: Because it's that time of the year, I guess. And also because those are the ones that are most discounted right now. Gotta make the right choices, you know?

~Vaughn gets up, with Sadie right beside him. They head over to the next section, signaling to the salesperson to come over, as the lucky family follows behind. We fade out.~


My life is definitely undergoing some changes at the moment.

Some would say those changes are long overdue.

Like, for instance, finally making my way upwards towards the Heavyweight Title division, where you've been for a while, haven't you, Reaver?  How many attempts at the brass ring have you had now? I'm personally too lazy to count. But you've never made it there, have you? You've had your runs in the Internet and Roulette Divisions, sure, but you've never been able to get over that hump here in Sin City. Why do you think that is? Are you just not good enough? Or has it just been bad luck and unfortunate choices?

Either way, I suppose that's something we both have in common. I've never worn the SCW Heavyweight Title, either. Now, bear in mind, I've never been GIVEN a shot at the Heavyweight Title, but that doesn't change the fact that this is the only fed I'm currently in where I've never been at the top.

Actually, in most of my feds, I've been there multiple times.

So one would ask, who, between us, is most deserving of that opportunity? And I'd say... well, you've already been given yet another chance, so who am I to take it away? But here's the thing, Alexanduh... if and when I defeat you on Sunday, I'd say that puts me pretty close to the top contendership in the land, doesn't it? Wouldn't that be something? Skipping the Internet Division entirely and going straight at the big dogs?

Many have said I should have been there already, never understanding why I've been taking my time. But what can I say? I've been enjoying myself. But now, maybe the dials have finally spun around to point me upwards, towards the greatness of the Sin City Heavyweight Title.

And hell, if I defeat you, and then you somehow cause J2H to slip in a puddle of sweat and roll him up for a 3 count, that would almost guarantee I'd be the one coming next for the belt, wouldn't it? But I think that's a pipe dream. I've seen J2H in person during a tag-team match, and let me tell you, Alex... you just don't feel like you're in the same league as him. So I'm pretty sure the Heavyweight strap is staying where it is.

But that doesn't mean I shouldn't still get some credit by out-wrestling you all over that ring.

I'm going to be bringing my absolute best into this contest, Allie. I'm going to be whaling on you with every single maneuver I can pull out of my bag of tricks, and believe me, as much as I've done here in Sin City, you haven't seen nearly my full repertoire. I've won eleven World Titles by being the best of the best. It's a phrase that I believe in fully. I always know that I can win any and all contests I enter into. I'm always a threat to dominate my opponents.

Not that I'm looking to dominate you. Because that just doesn't sound right.

But I'm definitely focused on bringing you to your knees... no, hang on, take three...

I'm going to pound your... hmmm...

Let's just say that I'm going to be victorious, okay, Gravy? I'm going to hit you with everything I've got, and maybe a little more besides. I'm going to show you, just like I've shown Kasey, Rodrigo, Lyons, Washington, and all the others who didn't think I could get past them. I'm going to make you believe the truth that I just am that much better than you.

And then you're going to experience a major change in your life, Raven.

You're going to take the Plunge.

It's a ride I bet you never forget... especially with J2H watching. Good luck to you, boyo. You're going to need it.


~We are now outside of the mall, where Vaughn and Sadie are walking along to their car. Nearby, we can see the young couple waving happily at them as they head to their beaten-down car, the delivery charges for their new bed already completed. Sadie waves back. Vaughn's too busy glancing into the bag he's carrying. As they reach Vaughn's beloved truck, Gabriella, Sadie smirks at him.~

Sadie Anderson: I still can't believe you bought the steak knives.

~Vaughn pops open the back storage area, popping the knives inside for safe keeping, before getting the truck unlocked for Sadie and getting in himself.~

Peter Vaughn: I know... I couldn't stop thinking about them. I mean, they WERE a great deal.

Sadie Anderson: And you also felt like you HAD to buy yourself something, just to make the trip not feel like a waste.

Peter Vaughn: There's that, too.

~The two look out the window, to where the sun is just beginning to rise over the horizon. It's a rather romantic look, not that Vaughn would ever see it that way.~

Sadie Anderson: I know we still have a lot to talk about. But we have all the time in the world, Peter. There's no rush. We'll get the details worked out.

Peter Vaughn: Or we can just hire a wedding planner to take care of all of that...

Sadie Anderson: Not a chance.

Peter Vaughn: I knew you were going to say that.

~Both laugh, as Vaughn starts up the engine and lets it rumble for a few seconds.~

Peter Vaughn: So want to go talk about some of those details over breakfast? Or is there another store you'd like to visit?

Sadie Anderson: I think I'm Black Friday'd out.

Peter Vaughn: Then pancakes it is.

Sadie Anderson: Don't forget, married couples share everything.

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to buy you your own plate of 'cakes, don't worry.

Sadie Anderson: That's not what I meant!!

~They drive off, with Vaughn still wanting to have individual pancake plates, while his fiancé is more interested in getting different orders and sharing between them. This couple has a long, long way to go. Pray for them. We fade out.~


13
Climax Control Archives / Close To The End - Life-Altering Choices
« on: November 03, 2023, 10:50:28 PM »
Huff... huff... huff...

~As we hear the sounds of heavy breathing, we quickly make sure that we're on the correct channel. Thankfully, we are, as the picture slowly gets lighted up to show the SCW cameraman making his way up several flights of stairs. Somehow, despite the heavy equipment, he keeps moving, finally reaching the top floor. The camera tilts over towards the carpet, as the cameraman works to control any urge to get sick from exertion.~

Cameraman: Never... again...

~We finally straighten up, looking around the offices, which are in various states of disrepair. It's clear we're back in the multi-story building that Peter Vaughn purchased next to his Garden of Betrayal. The cameraman takes a few steps to the side, seemingly leaning against a wall judging by the thunk we just heard.~

Cameraman: He says... to meet him here... so where... is he? I swear... if he calls... from the bottom floor...

~Suddenly, there's a dinging sound from behind the cameraman, catching his attention. He turns to the side, looking on in disbelief... as the elevator doors open. Peter Vaughn steps out, glancing to the right and smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there, friend. I heard from down below that you took the stairs to get up here. That's damn impressive, I have to admit. Respect!

~Vaughn puts out a fist, as if wanting a fist bump. It doesn't get returned, although Vaughn lets it hang there for way too long.~

Cameraman: You're... you're telling me... that the elevator is working?

Peter Vaughn: ... Well, of course! The elevator's always one of the first items on the list to get operational in a building like this. You think the construction workers want to keep lugging all their supplies up every floor, dozens of times a day?

~The camera slowly droops forward, forcing Vaughn to lean a little lower to stay in frame.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, man, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. But wasn't the exercise worth it?

Cameraman: No.

Peter Vaughn: ...

~After a few seconds of awkward silence, the cameraman sighs and gets the camera sitting correctly again.~

Cameraman: So why did you want to record on this floor?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, here? Nothing, really.

~A grumble can be heard, letting us know that violence is certainly a possibility. Vaughn, though, steps to the side, opening up a nearby door labeled "Roof Access".~

Peter Vaughn: I wanted to head up here, actually. C'mon, just a few more steps...

~Vaughn heads up, as another grumble followed by a bleep from the censors can be heard. The cameraman, though, has already done too much to stop now, so heheads after him. We can see multiple workers up there, prying up different parts of the warped roof, getting to the support beams underneath. We watch for a second, before focusing on Vaughn again, who is now standing with a leg up on the edge.~

Cameraman: Is this safe?

Peter Vaughn: What, you think I'd take you somewhere that's dangerous?

~The camera starts backing up towards the doorway again, with Vaughn putting out his arms.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait! Yes, it's safe. Totally safe. They're just working on replacing some sections. After all, with winter right around the corner, the roof becomes extremely important for the rest of the renovations we've got going on.

~With that, Vaughn turns and looks out at the view. The cameraman moves a little closer, allowing us to see that Vaughn is staring at his Garden of Betrayal. He seems to like the aerial view.~

Peter Vaughn: That place sure has come a long way since all of this started, hasn't it? Just like me. Here I sit, the SCW Roulette Champion for months and months, finally approaching the milestone that I've been seeking since May. At the next Climax Control, the reign will be at 183 days. That means that I'll have second place locked up, having moved past Bill Barnhart for the honor. Rather ironic, really. That just leaves one record left to beat: the 190-day record of Griffin Hawkins, the SCW Hall of Famer. It's right there, boyo. I can feel it. I can TASTE it.

~Vaughn then turns back to the camera, stepping back from the roof. Despite his speech, he doesn't look too pleased.~

Peter Vaughn: And that's why the higher-ups are throwing the biggest obstacles they could find against me.

~He shakes his head, beginning to pace on the uneven rooftop, as the cameraman follows him, intrigued.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't think anyone would say it's a coincidence that the one man who's won a singles match against me in Sin City, the ONE MAN who I can say beat me cleanly, was put into this match. To me, it's fairly obvious that the SCW execs made a power move to try and block me from my record. I will admit, it's a master stroke, booking former World Champion Jack Washington in this one. And then there's the guy who's record I will have beaten by the time of the show, Bill Barnhart. A multi-time champion in his own right. No, the deck has clearly been stacked against me.

~Vaughn can't stop moving, stepping back and forth, feeling energized at the thought of what's to come.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know if this is because I ruffled a few "old-school" feathers with my running for the record, or if someone genuinely believes that there needs to be a final test. But either way, if they think I'm just going to back down from this, they're completely mistaken. I have beaten every contender they've put into my path, some of them multiple times. I've survived the toughest of matches, and snapped down every danger to my reign, squashing all of their hopes and dreams to keep this championship. There's no possibility I'm going to let it end here, right before the finish line. I've put way too much on the line to allow for that to happen.

~Behind Vaughn, more hammering can be heard, as a new portion of the roof is getting rebuilt. Vaughn, though, pays no attention, as he continues to walk in circles, still thinking through everything that's happened.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't care that it's two of the "great" names of Sin City coming after me. It doesn't make a difference in how I'm going to fight. They could have brought back Griffin Hawkins or tagged back in Matthew Knox. They could have made it a Saviors Special and brought a war involving Hall of Famers Mac Bane and Goth. Whoever it was, I would be approaching this exactly the same way. Because it's not just about me anymore. It's about my promises. It's about my guarantees. And it's about my sacrifices.

~Vaughn turns away from the camera for a few steps, before twisting and stomping back towards it, raising a finger towards the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: If anything, this proves that I've been successful in making the Roulette Championship one of the most desired belts ever. They're coming out of the woodwork to go for it, and damn if I'm going to let them take it from me. I know they both want to be the one to say "I finally ended it", but they're going to be rendered speechless when I'm finished with them. If they're lucky, it won't be because their jaws are wired shut for the next six weeks. But it could definitely end up that way, if that's what it takes for me to retain one... more... time. Because, boyo, this man isn't going down anytime soon. I refuse to lose. I refuse... to fall!

~Vaughn yells out, looking up at the sky, with the cameraman looking up as well. A second later, there's the sound of a loud crash, as the cameraman brings the shot back down... and finds that Vaughn is no longer there. Confused for a moment, the cameraman pans left, then right, knowing that the exit is actually behind him. Vaughn couldn't have gotten by him. By the time he sees the construction workers running along the edges, yelling out for safety rope, he finally aims the camera lower... showing the large hole that's opened up in the warped, damaged roof.~

Cameraman: Oh my God...

~The cameraman inches forward, trying to aim inside the newly-created hole. He can't get close enough, though, as the whole structure appears now to be unstable.~

Cameraman: Peter?! PETER?!?!

~As a worker gets close, risking his own skin, the camera shot slowly fades out.~


Voice: Peter?

~The voice echoes strangely for a second, then seems to start coalescing together as it clears up. Vaughn's eyes open, blinking multiple times.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter? Are you awake?

~Vaughn turns his head to the side, focusing on his girlfriend, Sadie Anderson, sitting next to him. He slowly sits up from the hospital bed, smiling at her. The bandage on his forehead is extremely visible, as is the ones on his arms as he reaches out towards Sadie.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. It's good to see you.

~Vaughn gives Sadie a sideways hug, which Sadie leans into as if to make it a little easier for him. Vaughn then straightens up from her, pushing the sheets aside.~

Peter Vaughn: They wouldn't let me leave without someone picking me up.

~Vaughn gets out of the bed, still wearing a medical gown. Luckily, his backside is turned away from the camera. He reaches out for his coveralls, apparently hiding any winces or groans, as Sadie gets up, looking surprised.~

Sadie Anderson: Whoa, hold on, Peter! You just woke up, and I don't think you should be hurrying out of here!

Peter Vaughn: It was just a short nap. There was nothing on TV, so I decided to make use of the time while I waited. I knew you'd be coming soon, Sadie.

~Vaughn finishes getting his coveralls on, then reaches for his shoes, ignoring any injuries. Sadie still looks worried, watching him carefully. She comes around to his side, grabbing at his arm.~

Sadie Anderson: But Peter! You fell off a building!

~Vaughn glances over at her, an eyebrow raised.~

Peter Vaughn: No, no, I fell THROUGH a building. That's very different.

Sadie Anderson: Not to me it's not! You could have internal injuries!

Peter Vaughn: Nope. All x-rays were fine. Seriously, Sadie, I've fallen from the top of the entryway through a stack of tables. This fall doesn't even compare. I mean, okay, I wasn't expecting it, so it knocked me a little loopy, but I'm fine now. Trust me.

~Sadie still doesn't look convinced, but Vaughn steps forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. He leans in, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, something that Vaughn never would have done a month ago. He looks deeply into her eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: It was all a fluke. At least I proved that the roof really DID need to be replaced. But I'm okay, and we can get out of here. I've got more important things to worry about, after all.

Sadie Anderson: ... And you're SURE they're okay with releasing you this quickly?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, yeah, they are. Sure, I had to 'convince' them a little, and they wanted me to get a ride, but now that you're here, I'm certain we can walk right out that door.

~Vaughn quickly points towards the door, ready to go. He grabs a bag of his items, holding them in one arm, as he puts the other arm around Sadie, flashing her his biggest fake grin. It doesn't fool her. She knows Peter too well. She knows he's up to something. But she sighs and accepts it, with the two heading out as quickly as possible.~


It's rather amazing how quickly the world can fall out from underneath you.

It's also crazy to think about what causes it to happen.

You know, Jackie, I really do have a history now in SCW in bettering my opponent's careers by defeating them in title defenses. Just look at Miles Kasey, jumping straight up to the Internet Championship after his losses to me. What about Helluva Bottom Carter? After a couple of losses to me earlier this year, Carter ends up putting away Michael Harris for good. Eddie Lyons is putting on career matches, even if he blew it at High Stakes, and even the Troll got a victory after he fell off the Ultimate X. Really, I'm expecting great things from Rodrigo now that I throttled him.

But it's strange, Jacques, that you appear to be the exception to the rule. In fact, you're doing everything completely opposite.

After all, when we had our Champion vs. Champion match, you were on top of the world as the Internet Champ, and you were able to take me down when nobody else could. I mean, major props, I give that all to you, you were the better man that day. No excuses from me, I'll admit when I wasn't at my best. But let's look at what happened after that major victory of yours.

First, you went into Summer XXXtreme XI and lost your precious championship, getting slaughtered by Calvin Harris. It must have burned you to see me retaining over Milo & The Troll when you couldn't get your side handled. But you shook it off. You got yourself into the King for a Day match by beating a helpless goofball. But then you couldn't handle things in the tag, with you & Raven losing to Mercer & Kasey, followed by the actual match at Violent Conduct IX when Mercer again cleaned your clock. No crown for you, Mr. Washington.

Unable to accept your new status as "In The Toilet", you once again sought an easy victory, taking it over... well, our opponent for this one, Bill Barnhart. Poor ol' Bill, always bullied by guys like Jackie. But that didn't change much, did it, Jack? The fans were looking at you differently, seeing that you were on a downward spiral. So you got yourself a match against a Hall of Famer, my buddy Goth... and Goth categorically destroyed you. You couldn't stand that, could you? So you put all your clout into getting yourself into the Heavyweight Title match at High Stakes, even though it sure didn't feel like you deserved it anymore.

And what happened? You lost. Again.

I mean, in all seriousness, Jack, it's really rather sad to see what's happened with you in the past few months since you got your win over me. Is that why you got this shot? Did you say to yourself, "I need to go back where it all started; I need to break the curse"?  That's the only reason I can see for you being in this one. Because if I recall correctly, you were badly trashing the Roulette Title, saying how much more meaningful the Internet strap was... and obviously, holding the Heavyweight Title above that.

It kind of makes it feel like you're bottom-feeding here, desperate to stop your steep descent into wrestling oblivion.

But here's the thing, Jackyl. I won't be throwing you a lifeline. I'm going to be the one stomping you further into the void, continuing your ultimate plunge with a Plunge of my own. We may be 1-1 against each other, but at this point, I don't think it's going to be a tiebreaker so much as a Jackbreaker. I'll be coming at you at full force, with everything on the line for me, with all the pressure fueling me on to rip you in two.

I may be a Savior, but I'm not YOUR savior, Jack. The world's falling out from under you, and I'm not stopping your plummet into oblivion.

I'm encouraging it.


~As Vaughn and Sadie walk out of the hospital doors, Vaughn takes a nice, deep breath, enjoying the crisp air of a November evening. He heads for the parking lot, as Sadie looks nervously behind them. But nobody appears to be in pursuit, so Sadie hurries after him. They get to her car, a brown Ford Focus. Vaughn tries the passenger door handle, but it's still locked.~

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, Sadie, get the doors open. We don't have a lot of time to waste.

~Again Sadie looks back towards the hospital, more concerned now given Vaughn's reaction.~

Sadie Anderson: Are you sure you're supposed to leave? Aren't they always supposed to wheel you out for insurance reasons? Why didn't anyone check us out?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I took care of all the paperwork... and I didn't need the wheelchair, I'm fine. So let's go ahead and get going, okay?

~She looks doubtful, but since there are no screaming nurses running their way, there doesn't seem to be any choice. Sadie pops the locks, and Vaughn immediately pulls himself inside. Sadie gets in as well, buckling herself in and starting up the engine.~

Sadie Anderson: So you want me to go straight back to the ranch so you can rest?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I got plenty of rest in that hospital bed waiting for you. As for the ranch, well, can we stop by the work site first? I left Gabriella over there, and I need to pick her up and bring her home.

Sadie Anderson: Wait... you want to drive your truck? In the condition you're in??

~Sadie looks over at Vaughn, alarmed, but he gives her a slightly pleading look, as he talks about his favorite truck in the entire world.~

Peter Vaughn: You know how good Gabriella has treated me, and I've put a lot of effort into making her the greatest truck possible. I would really rather not leave her all night in downtown Dallas. I mean, I might never see her again, and you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?

~Vaughn tries harder to make his eyes like Puss-in-Boots from Shrek. It doesn't really work the way he expects, as Sadie can't help but laugh at him trying way too hard. But she agrees, putting the car into reverse and pulling out.~

Sadie Anderson: Fine. Let's go get the other love of your life.

~With Vaughn nodding enthusiastically, Sadie pulls away, leaving the hospital behind. They drive for a while, making their way through Dallas traffic, as Sadie concentrates on the road. She can't help but notice, though, that Vaughn keeps checking his watch.~

Sadie Anderson: Are you late for a date with someone else, Peter? Or somewhere else pressing you need to be?

Peter Vaughn: Nope, for both questions. I'm just... anxious about how late it's getting. Right now, someone could be stealing Gabriella's hubcaps, and those are custom-made. They took a lot of work, too, so I'd hate to lose them.

Sadie Anderson: *Sigh* Alright, we'll be there soon, and I'm sure your truck...

Peter Vaughn: Gabriella.

Sadie Anderson: ... Gabriella, will be fine.

Peter Vaughn: Thanks, Sadie. I really owe you for this. And I always pay my debts.

~The drive continues, and soon they arrive in the parking lot where Gabriella is waiting. The truck looks to still be in pristine condition, with all of its hubcaps intact. Vaughn looks relieved, getting out and walking over to pat the truck on the side. Sadie waits in her car, ready to leave, but she puts it in park when she sees Vaughn suddenly glare towards the doorway and lower himself down. She turns off the engine, getting out.~

Sadie Anderson: What is it? What's wrong?

Peter Vaughn: There are lights on inside. Nobody should be working this late. And I think... I think I hear someone...

Sadie Anderson: Should we call the police?

~Even as Sadie asks, though, Vaughn shakes his head. He then moves forward, crouched, getting to the doorway. He slams it open and runs inside, and there's instantly the sound of commotion. Sadie, startled at the suddenness of it all, reaches into her car and pulls out her revolver, before running towards the door.~

Sadie Anderson: PETER!!

~All fear cast aside in her concern for her boyfriend, Sadie shoves through the doorway, running into the lobby... before coming to a dead stop, completely shocked. Inside, we can see a bunch of twinkling lights wired up, blinking all across the walls and hanging from the ceiling. In front of us, there is a group of people waiting, including ranch hands from the PMV Ranch, a few relatively well-known wrestlers, and Vaughn's half-brother, Thomas, along with his 'recently found' girlfriend Carrie and their child, William. There is some soft country music playing in the background. Sadie, completely confused, lowers the gun quickly to point towards the floor.~

Sadie Anderson: What... what's going...

~From the side, Peter Vaughn walks up to Sadie, smiling at her. He has removed the bandage from his forehead, leaving it behind him, and showing the unscathed skin underneath. He steps in front of her, taking a bit of a nervous gulp, before slowly... lowering... to one knee. He looks up at her, with a small box in hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie Anderson.... will you marry me?


Life stays interesting only when there's an element of surprise in it.

To me, the biggest surprise was Washey getting a shot at my Roulette Title, after just being in the fight for the Heavyweight Title at the last show. But secondary to that was good ol' Bill Barnhart getting added to the mix. Of course, the surprise factor was for an entirely different reason: I haven't seen Billy as a legitimate title contender for months now.

Maybe once upon a time, the Barn Dog was a threat. I'm still waiting, though, to see the legend behind the man. I haven't seen it yet.

Oh, I know, he keeps getting opportunity after opportunity, and he HAS achieved success with these chances in the past. But lately, all I ever see is Barnhart taking the pin lately. He's fallen at shots at the Roulette Title. He's been unable to make a goal in the Mixed Tag division, despite supposedly having a great bond with his 'partner'. He's even being used as a starting point for returning wrestlers like Goth at Violent Conduct IX and Ben Jordan at High Stakes 13, getting thrown in there to take a beating and make the fans happy to see the returnees.

It's a thankless job, but it's one that somebody's got to do, and I at least can appreciate Barney taking that one on.

Here's the thing, Bill. You and I are starting to know each other pretty well. I defeated you once at Into The Void XII, sending you and Malachi down to become the Roulette Champion. I beat you a second time in July at Climax Control, winning over you when you supposedly had the advantage in a Stretcher match. And now, here we are, facing off for a third time, and honestly? I'm not expecting any change in the dynamic.

Washington may be on a faltering trajectory, but you've been flatlining for months, Bulldog. I seriously don't know what you have that enables you to keep getting title opportunities like this, as the fans just aren't buying you as a serious contender anymore. I still see flashes of greatness every so often, don't get me wrong. I'd love to see you find a way to use the momentum of a loss against me to climb back up to some glory. But I just don't see it happening, boyo.

Washington and I are likely to be knocking the ever-living hell out of each other from the opening bell. But I bet he's going to be just like me, and see you as a distraction only in this one. A distraction I plan to knock unconscious as soon as possible. Hey, maybe we'll get another sledgehammer match, that'll allow me to make it quick. Or maybe it'll be another high-flying match, and you'll be even more out of luck.

Slow and heavy just isn't the way to make a living, my friend.

The only real benefit I have to you being in the match is that it's possible I can show you some Revenged and end this one quickly, before J-Wash has a chance to even get going. And that way, my title reign can reach its foregone conclusion, and you can make your way to the back with one more moment added to my story... as well as the approaching end of your own.

Then again, maybe you'll surprise me... and not bother showing up.

Nah, you'd never do that. You'll be there. And my foot will be in your face as quickly as possible. The only surprise coming your way is when you look up and see that you're about to take the Plunge once again.


~Sadie is staring down at Vaughn, absolutely stunned. Her gun hand starts to shake, due to her shock, so Vaughn reaches up with his free hand and takes the revolver away.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't think we need this...

~The gun is set to the side, before Vaughn turns back, opening up the box in his hand. There is a large ring inside, glimmering in the lights. He looks up at Sadie, who still hasn't said anything.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie... you've shown me more about life than anyone else has. You've been the person who's been able to reach the REAL me, the one hidden deep inside. I've found myself looking forward more to life than ever before... and I want to continue to spend it with you. So I ask you... once again.... will you marry me?

~The crowd is quiet behind them, already unsure of how this is going considering Sadie came in armed. Sadie looks over at them, then drops her gaze back to Vaughn. Finally, she finds her voice.~
 
Sadie Anderson: .... Yes. The answer's yes, Peter.

~With a relieved release of air, Vaughn pulls himself back up, embracing Sadie, with the two sharing a long kiss as the audience cheers behind them. The music is turned up, as confetti poppers are fired into the air around them. Vaughn then gets the engagement ring free, putting it on Sadie's trembling finger. The celebration then begins, as everyone rushes in to congratulate them. The camera seems to spin away, showing the passage of time as the party commences.~


~After a few twirls, the camera settles back down, and we find Peter and Sadie sitting to the side, with Sadie bringing herself closer to her new fiancé. She leans into him, but then hesitates, looking at his arm, which still has some bandages on it.~

Sadie Anderson: So... was the entire thing staged? The accident, the hospital, all of it?

Peter Vaughn: Not exactly, no...

~Vaughn reaches over, peeling back one of the bandages, where we can see some cuts and bruises underneath, having been treated at the hospital. Sadie winces at them, even as Vaughn covers them back up.~

Peter Vaughn: The accident on the roof happened pretty much as you were told it did. I didn't expect it to give way underneath me, for sure. Luckily, I grabbed at some of the rebar as I fell, scratching up my arms some, but it slowed me down enough so that when I landed on the top floor, I mostly just took the impact. You know what they say, us wrestlers know how to fall.

~Vaughn chuckles to himself, before becoming serious again. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: If anything, though... this accident sped up some plans I had in mind. I could have easily been seriously injured. If I dropped at the wrong angle, I might not even be here anymore. And that risk isn't just for stupid accidents like this one. It could happen any night I'm in the ring, or outside of it. Guys like Washington and Barnhart would probably love to be the ones to put me out of the sport, just so they could say it was them. I always seem to be a target nowadays.

~Sadie pats him on the arm, careful to aim away from the bandages. Vaughn reacts, reaching over to take her hand as he stares into her eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I thought to myself... I can't put off my plans anymore. I can't waste time. So I talked to the workers, called up everyone who was nearby, and got everything hung up. It's amazing how quickly Christmas lights went on sale, isn't it? I figured, might as well make use of the circumstances, right?

Sadie Anderson: I suppose so. Although I'm going to remember this in the future, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: I wouldn't want it any other way.

~Vaughn watches as Sadie stares at the ring on her finger, a family heirloom that Vaughn never thought would be put to use. He doesn't know why he never sold it or threw it away. Maybe that proved it was always meant to be.~

Peter Vaughn: So you know what you're getting into, right? I'm still not the perfect man by any means. I have a long way to go to get anywhere near there.

Sadie Anderson: And I've told you before, I wanted to be there with you as you made your way on that path.

Peter Vaughn: And you'll... you'll be with me? All along the way?

~Vaughn's voice seems a little higher, which catches Sadie's attention. Of course, she knows all about how Vaughn's mother abandoned him when he was still young, deserting him & his father. She grabs hold of his hand tightly.~

Sadie Anderson: All the way... and beyond.

~She leans in, kissing him, as a future wife in love with her future husband would. The two sit there, ignoring the rest of the party as it goes on in the building Vaughn bought, now forever memorialized as the place Vaughn proposed. We slowly fade out.~


14
Supercard Archives / Challenges & Impossibilities, Pt 2
« on: October 19, 2023, 06:44:59 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up outside the multi-story building currently being renovated by Peter Vaughn. It's meant to be an addition to his Garden of Betrayal, which is set up right next store, but a lot of demolition has been taken place over the last few weeks to bring it back up to code. Right now, the work is once again being furiously done inside... but the cameraman, standing outside, seems reluctant to go in. He moves the camera back and forth, as if considering his options.~

Cameraman: Y'know, my parents said I should have tried signing up for the NFL or Major League Baseball, so I could be operating a camera in a safer location. But no, I said, I wanted to travel. I wanted the action. I wanted...

~Suddenly, there's a yell from up above, and the camera tilts up to see a large piece of masonry seemingly headed our direction. The cameraman screams and runs to the right, although it turned out to be a bit of a visual illusion, as the brick wall falls into a large trash disposal bin perfectly placed outside the building. It makes a tremendous crash inside the metal container. This seems to make up the cameraman's mind, as he gets out his phone.~

Cameraman: That's it. This is NOT safe. I'm going to tell that Peter Vaughn what I truly think...

Peter Vaughn: And what's that, boyo?

~The cameraman jumps a fair distance in the air, judging by how much the shot bounces before it recenters on Peter Vaughn, who is standing behind him, removing some work gloves. An audible gulp can be heard from behind the camera.~

Cameraman: I... I... well, I...

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, friend. Speak your mind. I never hold someone's thoughts against them. Well, that's not true, I routinely insult my opponents for their idiotic thoughts, but for you, it's all good.

Cameraman: I... I don't feel safe here.

Peter Vaughn: You know, we're following all ICC Building Code rules and requirements. I'm not stupid enough to allow them to crack down on us and shut this all down.

~There's another loud crash behind them, as more debris is thrown into the disposal bin. The camera jerks again, showing the man's fear at accidentally getting crushed. Vaughn, barely moved by it, shrugs his shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: But I'm not trying to make you feel stressed out. So come with me. There's a nice Persian restaurant a few blocks away. I'll get you a meal on the house. Deal?

~Without waiting for a response, Vaughn heads for his favorite truck, Gabriella, as the stunned cameraman follows behind him. We get a cutaway, with the camera coming back on inside the Sahara restaurant. Vaughn is currently dining on a Kubideh Kabob, while the cameraman appears to have some lamb kabobs in front of him. He takes a bite, and although we can't see his face, it's clear he's enjoying it.~

Peter Vaughn: Pretty good, right? I love that this place is so close by to my new territory. Maybe I can convince them to move into my new building when it's complete. A man can dream, can't he?

~The cameraman doesn't answer, as he's too busy chewing. Vaughn, meanwhile, leans back in his chair.~

Peter Vaughn: It's wild to think that High Stakes is right around the corner, the final big show for Sin City this year. Do you remember when I started with you, back in February? Everyone thought I wasn't going to stick around long. They didn't think I deserved a shot at the Roulette Title, much less the Heavyweight Championship. They thought I'd lose the belt within a month of winning it, because they didn't think I cared enough.

~Vaughn picks up the yogurt drink next to him, taking a sip, before putting it back down.~

Peter Vaughn: And now it's the opposite problem. People like Rodrigo Afonso saying that I've held the title TOO long, and that I'm keeping it away from the 'rookies' who deserve to be fighting for it. That's pretty rich, honestly. Nobody has been able to defeat me for my belt. Not even Roddy. But now I'm apparently supposed to just vacate it, precisely BECAUSE nobody can beat me for it.

~He shakes his head, annoyed by the hypocrisy of his opposition.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, it's not happening. I gave my word when I competed for this championship that I would defend it proudly as a member of the Sin City roster, and I've lived up to my word. To get this belt off of me? Someone's going to have to take me down. Maybe Roddy can do it on his second chance. Maybe not. But I'm sure as hell not just walking away from it. If the record is meant to be mine, it will be. And if Roderick doesn't like it, well, he can try to shut me up at High Stakes, can't he?

~Vaughn reaches down, grabbing another kabab and taking a bite. He munches for a second, thinking things through.~

Peter Vaughn: The funny thing is, I actually do respect Roddy's energy in the ring. I'm not lying when I said that he was one of the better competitors I faced off for with the title on the line. So I want him to up his game. I want him to bring the fight to me and make me EARN this record. I want to come within a hairsbreadth of losing before I pull the Uno Reverse and smash him into the canvas with the Plunge. You never earn respect in this business without facing strong competition, after all. I just hope Rodrigo's ready to rumble, so that I can have all the people I'm passing in the record books say "Damn, I guess he deserved it".

~With that, Vaughn finishes his kabob, then cleans his mouth with his napkin. He raises a hand to the waitress, ready to pay the bill.~

Cameraman: Hey, Mr. Vaughn... I just want to say... thanks for bringing me here to talk. It definitely felt safer... and the food is pretty good, too.

Peter Vaughn: I know, right?

~The waitress comes over, with Vaughn reaching into his wallet and pulling out a long piece of paper, handing it to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Please factor that into the bill, please, miss. Thank you.

~The waitress walks away, looking slightly disappointed, but not before the cameraman is able to get a shot of the piece of paper.~

Cameraman: Hold on... is that a Buy One, Get One Free coupon??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. It was going to expire at the end of the month. I'm glad I got a chance to use it.

Cameraman: But... but...

Peter Vaughn: What's wrong? You still got your meal for free, didn't you? Enjoy it. Now, I've got to get back to work...

~Vaughn pulls out some cash, leaving it on the table, before getting up and heading towards the door. The cameraman takes in the money, then decides to add a few bucks on top for the tip, before following after him. The shot cuts out.~


~When the picture comes back up, we find ourselves staring at a daffodil. The flower flutters in the Texas breeze, managing to stay upright. It is lost, though, when a hand reaches in, picking it from the ground. Sadie Anderson brings it up to her face, staring at it, her sadness clear as she lets the daffodil go. It floats away, being carried by the wind, passing by the approaching feet of Peter Vaughn. He stands, a little uncertain, behind Sadie, rubbing at the back of his head.~

Sadie Anderson: How did you find me?

~Sadie doesn't even look back, but she must have heard something that clued her in. Vaughn coughs for a second.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, you didn't really cover your tracks. Even a novice like me could follow your footprints. Plus, you've come up here before, so I thought you might be headed here.

Sadie Anderson: Uh huh. So there is no tracker in my watch or earrings that you gave me?

Peter Vaughn: Uh, nope, not that I know of.

~Vaughn carefully pushes his cell phone into his pocket before moving around Sadie and taking a seat next to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Can we talk, Sadie?

Sadie Anderson: I don't know what there is to talk about. I've been thinking about it, and this kid happened before we were even... getting closer. So I shouldn't let it bother me so.

Peter Vaughn: Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: I guess maybe it's because you've told me so many times about your... issues. I thought I was the one who could bring you out of your shell. So knowing somebody else found a way to do it first....

~Vaughn shakes his head, unhappy with the way the conversation is going.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, I do NOT have a child. This has all been a grave misunderstanding... either that, or it's a deliberate attack on myself and my ranch.

Sadie Anderson: The girl... Carrie... she said that you were both drunk. It was after a show. You know it could have happened...

Peter Vaughn: Not a chance in hell. For one thing, you know I can handle my liquor.

Sadie Anderson: NOW you can, but back then...

Peter Vaughn: Second, do I really look like the guy who goes out and parties with the fans after a show? Please. I never have any interest in hanging out with groupies and geeks like that. I'd rather go back to the hotel room and work on a crossword puzzle. Maybe call you and find out what was happening with the ranch. But I don't join the riffraff. Ever.

~Sadie looks over at him, realizing that he's serious. She crooks her head.~

Sadie Anderson: That's... kind of sad.

Peter Vaughn: It's how I am. But it's also how I know this wasn't me. I would never allow myself to lose control like that. And as for just 'sleeping around'... it's just not something I'm interested in. I leave that to others. There are plenty of guys who like to have a wild time as pro wrestlers, but I've never seen the point. It just leads to trouble... y'know, like the trouble we're having here.

~Sadie seems to consider his words, then starts to work to her feet. Vaughn does the same, with Sadie turning his direction, staring directly into his eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: You promise me this wasn't you?

Peter Vaughn: I guarantee it.

Sadie Anderson: And you didn't... make any 'donations' at a sperm bank or anything?

Peter Vaughn: That, crazily enough, was my father, not me.

~Vaughn shudders at the mere memory of that, although it WAS what netted him a half-sister living in Oklahoma right now. Sadie studies him for a moment more, finally making up her mind.~

Sadie Anderson: Then I guess we need to get to the bottom of this.

Peter Vaughn: I'm all for it.

~The two turn and head back to where the horses are hitched to a small tree, patiently waiting for their return. They saddle up, starting on their way back to the ranch. There's still some distance between them, as this one managed to do some damage. But at the very least, they're riding together, and that's something.~


Sometimes you've just got to solve the mystery.

For you, Roddy, apparently the mystery is why I call myself The Mechanic, when I don't work in an auto shop somewhere. That's pretty short-sided considering your own background. I mean, you wouldn't want to be called "The Skater" or the "Whiny Brat" just because of what you did before, would you? I sure didn't want to be called "The Janitor" when I started out, but then, I was a different person then. I let stuff slide past me. Not anymore.

But if you want to know why I have such a name, Hot Rodder,  well, there are multiple reasons. First, I'm a tinkerer. I always have been. Most custodians and janitors are, because we had to learn to use whatever finite resources were available to pull off cleaning miracles. I got pretty good at rewiring broken equipment and making it work for me again. From there, I learned to experiment, always interested in designing a new machine that might make my life easier.

You should come tour the ranch sometime. Most unique ranch in the world, I'm certain.

In wrestling terms, though, a Mechanic has a completely different meaning. It's a wrestler who's known for being a teacher inside the squared circle. Someone who can battle with the future main eventers, and maybe get some of them ready for taking that next step. You could say I've been fairly successful in that regard here in SCW. Just look at Kasey, Lyons, and even yourself, Rod. Some time spent in-between the ropes with me, and all of you have the eyes of the fans upon you.

Of course, I'm not your traditional Mechanic... because usually the teacher isn't supposed to beat the ever-living hell out of their proteges. But I still believe that bruises are the best learning tools for any young warrior to bear.

Believe it or not, Roddy, I'm teaching you a great deal of valuable lessons. How to take a punch. How to duck. How to not wet your pants when you get bodyslammed onto a pile of broken glass. Hopefully, you've learned a few of these lessons, if I didn't end up knocking them out of your head due to a concussion from the Keyholder. They didn't announce anything, so I'm assuming your brain didn't get too rattled up the last time we faced. I can't guarantee we'll avoid it this time, not knowing what kind of contest we're going to have, but I'll still try to keep some of your brain cells active. I want you to learn from this.

Don't get me wrong. I badly want the victory still. I've put a lot on the line for this victory, and I'm damn sure planning on knocking you unconscious or making you tap out, whichever one turns out to be required. Maybe both, because you strike me as the type that would rather pass out than give up, which, okay, I understand the bravado, but stubbornness can do a lot of damage to your future. The point is, no matter what it takes, I'm going to be putting you down for a second time.

I don't expect there to be a third, at least not for the Roulette Championship. After this, I want you to move on and find someone else to make your name against. Build yourself up. Put that weak-willed skateboarding life behind you and become a true, dominant professional wrestler. And then, maybe, we WILL meet for a third time... for the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Championship.

Wouldn't that be a trip?

But let's not look too far ahead, Rodz. I still have plenty to teach you as The Mechanic. We'll just see if you're able to soak up the information, or if I have to knock it into that brain of yours. Again. And again. And again.

That solve the mystery for you?


~We rejoin our riders as they approach the ranch, pulling up short as they recognize one of the vehicles back in their parking area.~

Sadie Anderson: Great. The lawyer's back, and I bet he brought... her.

Peter Vaughn: Look, until we figure out what the scam is, let's not get into violence. Afterwards, of course, we can crack some skulls, but let's not lose control, okay?

Sadie Anderson: ... Fine.

~Sadie nudges her horse, Cinnamon, into action, with Vaughn following behind on Artax. They get to the stables, where a ranch hand is there to take their horses from them as they head around towards the main homestead. Sadie heads inside first, followed by Vaughn, as they see the lawyer & the mother getting to their feet.~

Peter Vaughn: Welcome back. You sure didn't waste time in returning.

Brock Hudson: Well, we're only in town for a short time. As you must understand, Ms. Primance will need to get back to her life once everything here is... settled.

Peter Vaughn: Well, as I've already told you, you're both making a rather large mistake, and the DNA tests will surely prove that.

~The woman steps forward, studying Peter, a single tear coming down the side of her face.~

Carrie Primance: I still don't understand. How can you deny the moment we had? It was... special. I remember your jaw clenching... I remember your strong arms...

Peter Vaughn: Do you remember my Chinese Zodiac tattoo?

~Everyone, even Sadie, turn and stare at Vaughn for a few confused seconds.~

Carrie Primance: Your... your what? I don't... you have a Chinese Zodiac tattoo?

Peter Vaughn: No, of course I don't. I don't have any tattoos at all, and if you slept with me, you should know that, right?

Carrie Primance: I... had a lot to drink that night. I don't remember everything...

Peter Vaughn: So how do you know it was me again?

Brock Hudson: That was me. It took some investigative work, but we were able to work backwards and narrow down the list of suspects. Ms. Primance picked your picture out as soon as I showed it to her.

Sadie Anderson: But you don't KNOW it was him...

Carrie Primance: His eyes are so familiar though...

Sadie Anderson: But you can't identify anything else? Something he said? Something he WORE?

~Sadie gets closer to Carrie, with both Vaughn and Hudson stepping between them. It didn't seem likely that a fight would break out with Carrie's child, William, there, but you never know for sure. Hudson, with the situation back under control, reaches into his pocket, pulling out an envelope.~

Brock Hudson: At any rate, there's no more reason to speculate. We have the results right here.

Peter Vaughn: You have the DNA results already?? My lab told me it would be weeks!!

Brock Hudson: Well, er, our lab has specific equipment, er, that allows them to...

Peter Vaughn: You got a sample of my DNA before all this, didn't you?

Brock Hudson: ... As a lawyer, I refuse to incriminate myself...

~Vaughn scoffs, but then takes the envelope and hands it over to Sadie, who immediately unseals it to look at the results.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I'm glad you found a way to hurry this up. I just want everything here to get back to normal, understand? No offense to you, Ms. Primance, but I'll be happy to have this all over with. Well, Sadie? Tell them the good news.

~Sadie is quiet, still re-reading the results. Vaughn looks over his shoulder at her, still keeping his smile plastered on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie? Go ahead and tell them.

~After a moment, Sadie looks up from the sheet of paper.~

Sadie Anderson: It... it says familial DNA was found. There was a match.

Peter Vaughn: There you see? I... wait...

~Vaughn immediately grabs the results from Sadie, looking them over himself, as both the lawyer and the mother smile.~


There are moments in life that just don't go the way you expect them to. The only solution when that happens is just to keep moving forward on your new path.

I know you didn't expect to lose to me the first time, Roddick. You thought you were indestructible, making your way into Sin City and expecting just to smash your way through every opponent that gets in your way. A lot of wrestlers feel that way when they first make their climb in a new company. Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the kidney... or the face, wherever the shot actually lands.

Some of those guys never recover from those losses. There have been curtain jerkers who crumbled into obscurity. There have been main eventers who threw a massive tantrum and vanished from the scene afterwards. In all honesty, I'm happy to see them go. They didn't deserve to be in the business. They lacked the spine, guts, and testicular fortitude to continue to hang around the industry.

But you, Rod? I don't see you quitting, even if and when you fall to me again.

In fact, I'll let you in on a well-known secret... I used to be a loser just like you. Well, okay, not exactly like you. I was worse. I took beatings day in and day out, back when I hadn't had the... modifications I have now. I look back on that guy, that Janitor, with a lot of contempt, but there is one thing I'd never take away from him: he was never a quitter. He kept coming back, who knows why, and eventually it led to me being the superstar in the business that I am today.

Now, for you, I wouldn't recommend the brainwash or torture... but still, try and take what you can from this match.

When I twist your ankle and grapevine your leg, think about ways you could counter it, either by getting to the ropes or curling it back on me to get my shoulders on the mat. When I come diving over to the ropes towards you at full speed, try and come up with some sort of counter using the environment before I fully crash through you and leave you a mangled mess on the outside mats. When I smash you into the canvas with Revenged, try and channel that inner strength to maybe get a toe on the apron or raise your shoulder an inch. Try and take each and every abusive strike against you as a new learning experience.

It isn't the path you wanted. You were hoping to be unscathed. But this is wrestling, boyo. It just doesn't work like that.

Take your lumps. Fight back the best you can, but when you find yourself about to take the Plunge, know that your experience gain will be worth it in the end, once you wake up. This new path could easily be the one that takes you to the top in the future.

And someday, when you're talking in the future about your battles with the Mechanic and how they all went against you,  maybe I'll be sitting there, smiling, cheering you on as you've found success in spite of me KO'ing you repeatedly. Maybe this will be the moment where you look back and say "That's when I learned all I needed to know to be successful".

Hey, I make a hell of a role model. In the ring, at least.

So roll with every punch, kick, and groin shot. Survive as long as you possibly can, no matter what's coming your way, be it tables, ladders, chairs, or barbed wire. Let your blood flow, let your heart race, and let your emotions run wild. It'll all be worth it in the future.

Once your new path has been determined after your second defeat to the SCW Roulette Champion is complete.

I wish you the best of luck on your journey afterwards.


~Vaughn is still studying the DNA results, looking them over, as everyone in the room waits impatiently. Finally, he looks back at Sadie, raising an eyebrow.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, I don't understand most of this. What's this about familial DNA? Does that mean... somehow... that's my kid?

Brock Hudson: We told you what the results were going to be, Mr. Vaughn. Now, we need to start talking about your responsibilities...

~The lawyer steps forward, but his smile fades slightly when Sadie moves in front of him, putting a hand on his chest to push him back.~

Sadie Anderson: Hold your horses, moneybags. You and I both know that's NOT what the results show.

Carrie Primance: They don't??

Peter Vaughn: ... They don't?

~Sadie turns, grabbing the sheet of paper from Vaughn's confused hands.~

Sadie Anderson: I may not be a scientist, Mr. Hudson, but I've seen enough investigative shows to know that this small level of familial DNA means that Peter here is NOT the father. It's not enough of a link.

Brock Hudson: Well, I... I mean, that could be argued in court...

Sadie Anderson: Don't give me that. You know you'd lose. The percentage would be much higher if Peter Vaughn was the gene donor for that child, and you know it.

Carrie Primance: So... he's not...

~Carrie sniffles slightly, then steps away, holding onto William with a tight hug as she faces away from the group. Vaughn glances over at her, but he's more interested in what Sadie has to say.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait... but you said there's a match, Sadie. I heard you say that.

Brock Hudson: Exactly! William is related to you!

Sadie Anderson: But NOT in a fatherly way! It's not enough for that. I'm not even sure it's enough to be a grandparent connection. It's more like, maybe, a cousin? Or maybe an unc...

~It was at that instant that the front door swung open, catching all their attention. Thomas Hill, Vaughn's half-brother, wheels himself inside, still recovering from a stabbing that nearly killed him a few months ago. He smiles at the group, surprised to see so many people there.~

Thomas Hill: Hello, everyone! I just got back into town and I thought I'd swing by and see how everyone's doing. Everything... good?

~The entire group stares at Thomas, who certainly DOES have a passing resemblance to Peter Vaughn, although he does his hair and clothing style completely differently. Carrie steps forward, leaning over with William, as if to stare deeply into Thomas' eyes and getting two raised eyebrows in return.~

Thomas Hill: Uh... Pete? Fill a brother in?

~Thomas looks in slightly agitated confusion at Vaughn, past both Carrie and Hudson, who now both are turning and nodding at each other. Vaughn, for his part, finally seems to relax.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Thomas... looks like we need to have ourselves a little conversation about your activities when you visit me at shows...

Thomas Hill: Huh?

~Thomas doesn't seem to understand, even as Carrie steps closer to him, touching his cheek. He suddenly looks at her a little closer.~

Thomas Hill: Hey, uh... have we met somewhere?

~Blinking through a few more tears, Carrie smiles, but is only able to nod. She can't quite talk yet, so Vaughn helps out, stepping in and taking the little William from her and handing him over to Thomas.~

Peter Vaughn: Congratulations, pops...

Thomas Hill: Wha-wha-what?? Who? Huh???

~Thomas stares at William, who after being moved around a bit, decides to burp in his face. As Thomas tries to put together what's happening, Peter steps back with Sadie, who looks more than a little relieved.~

Peter Vaughn: I told you, didn't I?

Sadie Anderson: You did. And I'm sorry I reacted the way I did.

Peter Vaughn: No worries. This one was a pretty wild ride. Actually, it's not over yet, I guess, because Thomas is going to need some help, I bet.

Sadie Anderson: Carrie and William as well. They're part of the family now, after all.

Peter Vaughn: I suppose so. But at least I don't have to worry about the diapers part.

~Sadie laughs and gives Peter a short hug, putting a lot of meaning behind it. They stand there, even as the camera slowly zooms out to show the whole room, and everyone in it, before we fade out.~


It's crazy to have to dodge a bullet that you never even fired. But that's life, right?

At least now I can settle down without having to worry about Junior, and can concentrate on spanking the other youngster in my life. Roddy-boy, I believe we've said all about we need to say. You think you're going to tie up the series. I think it's going to continue to be a clean sweep. We'll see who's right at High Stakes, won't we? After all, in the end, all our words are meaningless. It's going to come down to the skill and expertise inside the ring... or out of it, depending on what match we get.

I'm relishing this fight, Roddie. I know you're going to make it memorable. As much as I've enjoyed my previous PPV victories here in Sin City, I'm still looking for that marquee event that everyone is talking about later that week. The match that absolutely steals the show. You and I, Rods, we can do it. We can blow everyone's minds, I know we can. And I truly hope you don't take it too hard when I'm victorious once again, cementing my legacy as the greatest Roulette Champion in SCW history.

At least you'll have the memories of the crowd cheering us on, wanting to see you succeed, but still thrilled at the maneuvers I'm pulling off. Hang onto that feeling, and maybe you'll be able to find it again one day, when you're the one facing the arrogant rookie who thinks they can do it all. I hope you remember me then.

Until that moment... prepare to take the Plunge, boyo.
 

15
Supercard Archives / Challenges & Impossibilities, Pt 1
« on: October 14, 2023, 10:02:46 PM »
~As the shot comes up, we find ourselves outside of the multi-story building recently purchased by Peter Vaughn, located right next to his recent creation, the Garden of Betrayal. The building appears to be currently under major development, as construction workers are coming and going from every direction, working on numerous rooms at once. The cameraman seems nervous, focusing a couple of times on the various escape routes in the building, before slowly making his way down to the back where a conference room is located. Inside, his anxiety isn't helped by the swinging of an axe, smashing down into the glossy wood in front of him.~

Cameraman: Jesus, Mary, & Joseph!!

~The swing causes the cameraman to stumble back in the doorway, giving us a brief view of the ceiling... which clearly is going to need some work, as there are missing and damaged panels above. Suddenly, Peter Vaughn is there, leaning over the cameraman, the axe in his hand. He raises his eyebrows.~

Peter Vaughn: Is there a problem, boyo?

~With the axe moved to his right hand, Vaughn reaches down with his left, and after a moment, the cameraman takes him up on it, getting pulled to his feet. It takes a few moments for the camera to orient correctly again, which some people love to see in a movie, while others truly hate the slight bouts of blurriness. But we strive for reality here at Sin City. With the cameraman back on his feet, Vaughn nods to him, then gets both hands on the axe once again, causing him to step back.~

Peter Vaughn: Am I making you nervous? You think, with all these people around, I'd just start carving you up like a Thanksgiving turkey or something? Geez. I figure we've worked together long enough for you to at least trust I won't kill you.

~The cameraman doesn't say a word, but looks out a side window, where we can see the Garden of Betrayal next store. It's a reminder of how Vaughn brought down the warehouse that was standing there while the cameraman was in it. He focuses back on Vaughn, who shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: One miscalculation and I'll be paying for it the rest of my time here. Sigh.

~Vaughn then turns, swinging the axe again, splitting another chunk off of the large conference table that was in this room. While it was showing its age like everything else in this building, it's still a little startling to see it getting destroyed like this. Vaughn pulls the axe free, looking back over his shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: I know what you're going to say. I should have just had the table removed and sold it to some company, right? Well, it was assembled in this room, and it's not small enough to go through the doors. Plus, think of all the shady deals and criminal acts that probably took place here. This WAS part of a lawyer's office, after all. It's best just to cut down everything that was part of that. I mean... I hate lawyers.

~With a little more power behind it, Vaughn brings the axe down again. He's causing a major split near the center of the table, making it larger with each swing. One might think that a chainsaw would work better, but an axe just feels more... personal.~

Cameraman: So, you wanted me to come by, right?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, I'm always interested in seeing you, boyo. But if you mean for Sin City, sure. I've got my own contractual obligations to take care of, don't I? So let's talk about High Stakes 13.

~Vaughn pops the axe free once more, only to turn to the camera with a contemplative look on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: So I easily took down that pretender, Tyler McCulligan, as I think everyone expected. At least, most of them. It's funny how a few people think that a 'regular' match is going to trip me up, like I've gotten too used to Roulette challenges for me to be able to handle a straight-up match. You know, a Three Falls match or an Iron Man match could easily come up on the wheel, too, you know. I have to be prepared for everything.

~He laughs, shaking his head, with the axe set over his shoulder. He doesn't look like Paul Bunyan, but maybe showing a little Patrick Bateman. The destroyed office setting helps.~

Peter Vaughn: And now, I'm set for the final tests of my historic Roulette Title run. I get to once again face Rodrigo Afonso, putting my prized championship on the line once again. By the time High Stakes 13 rolls around, I'll have landed 169 days as champion. That'll surpass Alex Jones and tie me with Kristopher Ryans in third place. To get third all to myself? I've got to take down Rodrigo once again. It's a job I don't like lightly... but it's a job I'm well equipped to handle.

~Vaughn's hands subconsciously tighten on the axe, and you can't help but wonder if any sort of Extreme Rules match could easily get out of hand with this man. After all, he nearly killed a man with a sledgehammer not that long ago.~

Peter Vaughn: Once I make my way past Rodrigo, the path is pretty clear for me. There will only be one or two more opportunities at most for someone to stop my reign from breaking the record. And once I get to day 191, all bets are off, my friend. Because I'll have accomplished every goal I've ever wanted as champion... except for how far I can set the record. I'll have done everything in the division that I had in mind, elevating it to a truly desirable piece of hardware that everyone will want to get their hands on. It will be... complete.

~Vaughn squeezes the axe again, taking a close look at the sharpened blade in his hand, finely honed to do the work it's meant for.~

Peter Vaughn: And I'm not going to let anyone stand in my way.

~Vaughn then spins, slamming the axe down full-power into the table. With a resounding crash, the table separates, falling into two large pieces on the carpeted ground. A few construction workers outside peek their heads in, ensuring everything's good, before departing again. The cameraman, meanwhile, is a little too nervous to move. Vaughn, breathing heavily from that swing, turns back, smiling over his shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: That's all I've got for you. Now scram. I've still got some more... redecorating to do.

~As Vaughn prepares the axe once again, the cameraman takes his cue and quickly leaves the room, probably a little fearful from the intensity that he just saw. The sounds of chopping can still be heard as the cameraman retreats, leading to the shot fading out.~


~The picture returns, although it's a little harder to see what's going on, as bright lights are shining into the lens. We can hear a strong country beat going on as the camera swings down, below the lights, to show a large dance floor. Various people dressed in their best country gear are dancing back and forth, enjoying the music in what is apparently the Neon Cowboy club in Dallas, Texas. That's from reading the sign on the wall, for those not following along. The camera pans along the dancers, all of whom look like they're having a fun, alcoholic-filled time, but none of them are familiar to us. That changes when the camera veers to the right, showing the pool area of the club, where Peter Vaughn can be seen, leaning over the table with a pool cue in hand.~

Peter Vaughn: Eight ball, left corner pocket.

~Vaughn lines the shot up carefully, already having calculated the angle he would need for the shot. He lances the cue forward, smashing the black eight ball and sending it careening into the left corner pocket, having called his shot. Vaughn straightens up, looking pleased as he turns back to Sadie Anderson, who's standing nearby with her own cue.~

Peter Vaughn: Another game? Should I rack them up?

Sadie Anderson: You know, Peter, when you told me you wanted us to go to the Neon Cowboy, I wasn't expecting us to just play pool...

~Sadie smiles at her 'boyfriend', if that term can be applied to someone like Vaughn. While he struggles with feeling full emotions due to trauma in his past, he's been genuinely trying to make things work with Sadie over the last month. It's still a work in progress, however, as he looks at her in confusion.~

Peter Vaughn: But... I thought you'd love this place. It had very strong reviews online as a place to take a date...

Sadie Anderson: I'm sure it did, Peter. But the pool tables are more of a... secondary option here. I know you love games of skill, but... how about we try going out on the dance floor?

~Vaughn turns and looks over his shoulder towards where some country line dancing is going on, then looks back at Sadie, a reluctant look on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Dancing, uh, has never been my thing.

Sadie Anderson: You mean to tell me that the great wrestler Peter Vaughn has two left feet?

~Sadie mockingly speaks with a glint of humor in her eyes. Vaughn, immediately feeling challenged, shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: No, of course not! I've just never...

~A second later, Sadie has pulled the cue from his hand, putting it on the table, and starts pushing him towards the dance floor, not taking no for an answer.~

Sadie Anderson: You only learn by doing, champ. Now let's get out there. Try and follow what everyone else is doing!

Peter Vaughn: But... but...

~The two end up on the country dance floor, where the line dance is still ongoing. Sadie quickly moves into step with them, while Vaughn robotically tries to keep up. He's a step behind for most of it, watching for what one person next to him does before completing it himself. It's a challenge, but he starts to rise to it, working to keep up with Sadie, who clearly has experience on the line. The song ends, with some on the dance floor clapping for the fun they just had. Sadie laughs, grabbing hold of Peter's arm.~

Sadie Anderson: See, Peter? You did great!

Peter Vaughn: No, I was off-step too many times there. I have to focus more, get that secondary bounce when it takes place...

Sadie Anderson: Hey, you know you don't have to do everything perfectly, right? This is all just for fun! You know what fun is, right?

Peter Vaughn: ...

Sadie Anderson: Okay, well, that's something else we're going to work on.

~Sadie laughs again, her happiness bringing a small smile to Vaughn's face as the next song begins. It's "Two Dozen Roses" by Luke Combs & Shenandoah. The slower song brings Sadie closer to Vaughn, and they begin to dance around the floor with other couples. Vaughn is still looking around, trying to mimic others, as Sadie puts her arms around his shoulders.~

Sadie Anderson: Just relax into it and enjoy the moment.

~Vaughn does his best to oblige, with the two continuing their slow dance across the floor as the picture slowly cuts away.~


Relax... and enjoy the moment.

It's a good lesson for everyone to learn. It can be so easy to get overwhelmed with responsibilities and obligations and lose sight of the good moments that are out there, waiting for you. Sometimes you have to revel in the small victories.

Like you, Rodrigo, being able to come back and face me after taking such a horrendous beating from me in our Barroom Brawl.

That was a heck of a fight, wasn't it? I mean, I thought it would go longer, but overall, it certainly was one of the better encounters I've had as the Roulette Champion. Getting to slam your head into the jukebox as "Don't Stop Me Now" plays, well, it's always great to send a tribute back to a great movie like Shaun of the Dead. And giving you the Key Holder on the broken glass? Well, it was a tremendous ending to our conflict, and let's face it, it would have caused a lot of younger wrestlers much like yourself to consider finding a new career.

But you came back. Good for you.  

You even got yourself into the winning column by making Bill Barnhart tap out. It's sad that this once would have been considered impressive, but Barney's been on a rough road as of late. I've beaten him twice now, and I do wish he would just retire and maybe stop damaging his good name. But he still had enough clout for people to get excited for your victory, and thus, we're booked again, this time at one of the biggest shows of the year, High Stakes.

You've been put in the unenviable position of being the man to try and stop my inevitable journey to the top of the Roulette Title rankings, with all of the odds against you. I'm hoping you're going to come at me with renewed determination, and maybe you've even learned a few things along the way. Maybe you can even figure out how to dodge the Key Holder. Not many have, but it IS possible.

Of course, avoiding the Key Holder only removes the threat of ONE of my great maneuvers. You've never felt the Plunge come crashing down on your vulnerable throat, for one thing, or felt the intense impact of the Revenged. From what I hear, it's a terrifying sensation... until you're knocked unconscious. Some have woken up with no awareness of what happened, thinking the match is still going, when I'm already on my way back to the locker room, victoriously holding up my championship.

Yes, you've faced me once, Roddy, but that doesn't mean that you're an 'expert' in Peter Vaughn now. There's a lot more you have to go through before you can claim that title. You've got to be someone like Supreme Machine, who I faced in a series of matches in TPW, or Matthew Knox, who I've battled across the world in various styles of matches. You have to be Jack Washington, the only man here in Sin City who has managed to take me down in singles competition. I hate to say it, Roddy, but you're nowhere close to being any of those men.

Add in the fact that you're going to have to fight me in a completely different style of match, and well, the odds are certainly stacked against you. Some people like it that way. For me, I never want to be seen as the underdog... which is why I've worked long and hard to make sure that's rarely the case. Everyone's going to be expecting me to dominate this contest once again, Rods... and I aim to make sure their expectations are realized.

It's going to be a war for sure. We'll be living up to the show's name, as the stakes, for me, will have never been higher in Sin City since I arrived earlier this year. You have got your chance to make up for your failure at my hand, and a chance to get your first championship here. But I have everything on the line. I've promised that I'm going to be the longest-reigning Roulette Champion in SCW history... and I'm not letting that promise be broken.

I always want to be known as a man of my word, after all.


~Peter Vaughn's favorite vehicle, Gabriella, moves on down the country road, as Peter drives with Sadie sitting beside him, a large smile still on her face.~

Sadie Anderson: I had a great time tonight, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: I'm glad. But it'll be better next time. I'll get in some practice, and when we dance next time, I'll be sure not to step on your toes as many times as I did...

Sadie Anderson: You don't have to worry about that. I got my foot out of the way... most of the time.

Peter Vaughn: Yes, but if I'm going to continue down this path with you, I have to keep improving. I have to keep learning.

~Sadie lets out a sigh, looking away out the window for a moment as they take the turn that heads towards the PMV Ranch.~

Sadie Anderson: You know, sometimes you act like I'm a training module for you. Or maybe a new sparring partner.

Peter Vaughn: What? No, you know that's not it at all...

~Vaughn glances over, worried, but Sadie just gives him a friendly punch in the arm.~

Sadie Anderson: You just remember that I'm very good... at sparring.

~She smiles again, with Vaughn looking forward again, looking a tiny bit thrown off by that statement. As they pull into the parking area of the ranch, Sadie looks questioningly to the right.~

Sadie Anderson: Huh. Whose Cadillac is that?

Peter Vaughn: No idea, I haven't seen it before.

~The two get out of the truck and walk towards the main house, where Keith can be seen, stepping out onto the porch to greet them. He does not look happy.~

Keith Cooper: I'm sorry, Mr. Vaughn, Miss Anderson. I told them that you weren't here and that they should come back, but they refused to leave. They were determined to see you tonight.

Sadie Anderson: Really? Who are they, new ranchers here to harass us?

Peter Vaughn: I'm fairly certain all of our bills have been paid lately, although with Thomas' recent injuries, we COULD have missed one. If so, I'll square it away right now.

Keith Cooper: Nah, I don't think it has anything to do with that. Uh, you'll see, I suppose.

~With that, Keith steps to the side, as Sadie and Peter move forward, both a little puzzled by how their night is ending. Inside, in the living room space, we see three people getting to their feet. One is clearly a lawyer, dressed in a suit despite the still-warm Texas temperatures. You can always smell a lawyer when they get close. Beside him, a younger woman holding a child in her arms gets to her feet, a weak smile growing on her face.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, I'm Peter Vaughn, and this is my ranch. You're here a little past business hours, but then, we don't really HAVE business hours, I guess. So what can we do for you?

~The woman steps closer to Vaughn, studying his face, her smile changing slightly as she considers him. Vaughn, though, has his attention more on the lawyer, knowing where the most trouble is likely to lie.~

Peter Vaughn: Well? What's this about? I guarantee to you that we run an upfront business here. I make sure nobody cuts any corners, because we keep everything in the limits of what the laws tell us we can do. I mean, we might come close to the edge in some cases, but we never go OVER the line...

~Vaughn stops as the woman reaches out, putting a hand to his face. He looks over at her, confused.~

Woman: Yes... the nose is right. The features are there. I... I do think I remember you...

Peter Vaughn: Ummm... well, I'm on TV a lot...

~Sadie gives an annoyed grunt from the side, and Vaughn takes the cue from her, stepping back from the lady so that she's no longer touching his face. The lawyer nods his head and steps forward.~

Brock Hudson: My name is Brock Hudson, Mr. Vaughn. I'm a lawyer and investigator from Nevada. My client here is Carrie Primance. I believe you might remember her.

~Vaughn shakes his head, glancing over at Sadie, whose eyes have narrowed as if she's figured out something.~

Peter Vaughn: To be honest, no, I'm afraid I don't. But I DO see a lot of fans from time to time. Is that what this is about?

Carrie Primance: You really don't remember me? Was I that forgettable? I know we both had a lot to drink... but it was such an amazing night. And such a rewarding one...

~The woman hefts up the child in her arms, lifting him towards Peter.~

Carrie Primance: I'd like you to meet William.

~Vaughn looks down at the child, his nose wrinkling slightly. William may need to be changed after such a long wait.~

Peter Vaughn: Uh... hello, William. You know... if I'm going to do autographs, it's better to be on a picture or trading card or something, it lasts longer...

~Carrie lets out a short laugh, as if believing that Vaughn is kidding around, although the look on his face is complete puzzlement.~

Carrie Primance: William... is your son, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, is he now? Well, that's just.... wait.... WHAT?

~Vaughn's eyes go wide as Carrie once again offers William to him, basically thrusting the child into his arms. Peter takes him unwillingly, although his first instinct was probably to let him drop to the ground. But there are things that even Peter Vaughn wouldn't consider doing. He takes the child, looking at him, and there IS a bit of familial resemblance there, although it's always impossible to tell from just comparing two individuals. He looks back over his shoulder at Sadie, seeking some assistance, but she's already storming out of the room, heading back to her barracks. Vaughn watches her go, holding William, as the room seems to shrink down as the shot cuts away.~


One of the things I always strive for is being prepared for anything. Of course, this is an impossible standard to shoot for. Nobody can be ready for everything that comes their way.

Still, I've made it my trait to be able to react to every single Roulette challenge that's come my way. And you know what, Roddy? If there's one thing I've learned during my long run with the title, it's that they always do thing bigger and more dangerous at the main shows of Sin City. At Into The Void XII, I had to compete in a fierce Triple Threat Ladder match to become the champion. Malachi got himself suplexed through a ladder in that match, and was never really the same afterwards.

Then there was Summer XXXtreme XI, where I once again faced two men in an Ultimate X match. Okay, one was the Troll, but I still had to strain my utmost to survive future Internet Champion Milo Kasey and keep my championship, putting my health on the line from such serious falls off the top of the two ropes above. After that, we have Violent Conduct IX, where Eddie Lyons and I lived up to the shows' name in our Knockouts Only match. I nearly killed that man that night with a sledgehammer, and while part of me does somewhat regret it, the more rational part of me knows that I did what must be done.

But now it's all about High Stakes, Roddy. That means that the Roulette wheel is going to likely have only the most intense, dangerous styles of contests available. If you thought the Barroom Brawl got nasty, just wait until you see what the owners of Sin City likely have in store for us on October 22nd. Hell, with Halloween close at hand, there are just too many insane possibilities to consider.

But here's the thing, Roderick. No matter what they put on that wheel, no matter what crazy, life-threatening task they put before me, we all know that I'll still have more experience in that challenge than you will. Even before Sin City, I had competed in all styles of contests, from Hazardous Ladder wars to barbed wire, triple-steel cage matches. I've shed blood all around the world in my quest to become one of the greatest wrestlers ever, making everyone who ever doubted me pay for their lack of faith.

As much as you've managed in your first few months here, boyo... you're still just a rookie when it comes to competitions such as this. The pressure on you is going to be immense, and sure, you're probably starting to adapt to it. I'm hopeful that you continue to build on it, assuming you survive, and start becoming a generational talent in our business. But you're not there with me yet. You're going to be completely off-balance from whatever they throw at us, and in the end, that's likely going to be your downfall.

It might be getting slingshot into a series of explosive panels, going off as soon as your body adds the tiniest amount of pressure to them.

It might be the crash into the side of a steel cage, cutting open the flesh above your eyes, blinding you from the final impact that's coming your way.

It might be a long fall from a steep height, crash-landing in a horrible position, and being only able to hear the concerned shrieks of the audience in attendance as I come flying down onto you, delivering the Plunge.

Really, it's completely unpredictable which way you're going to fall. The only certainty, Rod, is that you're the one going down.

And I know, you don't want to prepare for that contingency. You don't want to think about how my defeating you a second time can seriously hamper your future in the company. But you really need to look at it from the perspective of those who came before you. Sure, some of them are no longer here, as they were too weak to be able to recover from the thrashings I gave them.

But then there are role models like Kasey, who has achieved so much since I took him down multiple times. There are guys like Lyons, who somehow picked himself up and shook off any brain damage I gave him to keep competing, landing himself a shot to take down Kasey and claim that Internet Championship for himself. There's Washington, Goth, and Carter, all of whom lost to me during 2023, and all of whom are in the main event at High Stakes.

So you can't prepare for what's coming for you, my friend. But you CAN prepare for the fight for survival afterwards. You can still make something of yourself here in Sin City. You can still move on from the Roulette Division and strive for greatness.

But all that will have to come later... because you've still got to hold yourself together for the pain and punishment that's to come.

I can't predict how much damage I'm going to do to you. All I can say is, when it's all over and done with, I'll still be moving forward with my near-record title reign, and you, Alfonso? You'll have to find a way to change the new trajectory of your career and make it great once again.

Hey, I have faith in you, boyo.


~The picture comes up once more, with a very frustrated Peter Vaughn knocking on the closed door to Sadie Anderson's room in the main house.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie? C'mon, open up. We need to talk.

~There's no answer behind the door, as Vaughn knocks again.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, please! You have to understand! This HAS to be some sort of weird misunderstanding, or some sort of money-grabbing swindle. There's no possibility that I have a son! Not a chance in the world! The lawyer's already arranging for a DNA test, and we're going to do one ourselves as well, to make sure nothing's being switched out. It's all going to be worked out!

~Vaughn waits, but there's still no noise from behind the door, other than a very faint sound. It could be crying.~

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, please... can't you just come and talk to me?

~Finally, we hear movement, as someone comes closer to the door. Peter waits expectantly for it to open... but it doesn't.~

Sadie Anderson: Go... away...

~We only hear Sadie's voice from behind the door, as she then moves further away. Vaughn is at a complete loss, not knowing what he's supposed to do next. Should he break down the door? Take off the hinges? Or should he just leave it alone for now, and hope for better in the morning? Unfortunately, as Vaughn has learned throughout his life... not everything can easily be fixed. He slowly decides to walk away himself, his head down, as the camera slowly fades out.~


16
Climax Control Archives / Pondering The Future, Considering The Past
« on: October 06, 2023, 11:28:52 PM »
~The picture slowly comes up, once again, on an aerial shot of the Garden of Betrayal. Despite the recent droughts in Texas, the garden appears to be doing quite well, thanks to the right plants & trees being chosen. The occasional East Texas downpour helps as well. As the drone shot moves along, covering the large plot of land that Peter Vaughn had converted into his own personal "non-Game of Thrones" tribute, we can see the parking lot coming into view. The cameraman can be seen, if only as a small figure, controlling the drone as it comes closer and closer to him.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, yo! Camera guy! Over here!

~The drone falters for a second, nearly losing control, before the cameraman manages to readjust it and bring it safely into his arms. He turns it manually, pointing it to the side, where Peter Vaughn can be seen, waving his direction. For some reason, Vaughn isn't in the garden. Instead, he appears to be headed inside the multi-floor building to the west of the garden. The cameraman grumbles for a second, before putting the drone inside his van and shutting it off.~

~A second later for us (but at least a minute or two for him), the cameraman is now moving with his handheld camera, moving towards the large building. He takes note of some of the boards on the windows on the first floor, as well as a large "For Sale" sign attached outside. The cameraman then moves inside, where he finds Vaughn, staring into one of the open rooms nearby. Vaughn looks back at him, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, boyo. Good to see you. So what do you think?

~Confused, the camera pans left and right, taking in the building that's definitely seen better days.~

Cameraman: What do I think about what? This abandoned building for sale?

Peter Vaughn: It's not for sale anymore. I just bought it.

~The camera seems to shake for a second, before we're suddenly hurrying towards the door, moving pretty rapidly for a cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, hold on! Wait! Slow down!!

~But the cameraman doesn't listen, and we're quickly back outside the building. He then hurries to the side, getting a little more space, as we see Vaughn coming out after him.~

Peter Vaughn: What was all that about??

Cameraman: I'm not letting you drop another building on me, cabrón. No way. I still have nightmares about the first time!!

~Realization cuts across Vaughn's face. He shakes his head, before stepping forward.~

Peter Vaughn: Oh, I'm sorry, man. I kind of forgot about that...

~Clearly, the cameraman hasn't, as he was there the day Vaughn blew up the warehouse around him, to be replaced by the Garden of Betrayal.~

Peter Vaughn: But no, man, I'm not going to tear this building down. For one thing, that'd put up a lot of debris and mess with the garden, and I wouldn't allow that to happen. No, boyo, this place here? It's going to be my next project. My continued revitalization of this part of Dallas.

Cameraman: So... you're doing something out of the goodness of your heart, then?

Peter Vaughn: Hah. Hah hah. No. Well, if they want to see it that way, sure, but that's not why I'm doing it. You see, the ranching business is coming along well... but real estate is also a great way to go to diversify your investments. Basically, I see this area making me a lot of money in the near future, and I'm going to capitalize on it. Plus, I needed a place to be the inner office connected to the Garden, for those who don't want to meet outdoors, and I think this could be the place.

~Vaughn turns and looks back at the building, seeing it in a way that none of us can... at least, not yet.~

Peter Vaughn: It's going to take some work, but this building? It'll be the centerpiece of Mechanics Plaza.

~The cameraman has no words. Really, neither do we, although part of that is because we're not there to be able to say them. At any rate, Vaughn turns back to the camera after letting out a breath, keeping the smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about wrestling, shall we? You might think I've had a bit of a... setback, with my tag-team losing to "So Long" Harris and J2Holder. But the truth is, I don't put any stock in tag-teams at this point. They never seem to work out for me, one way or another. Someday, I'm going to change that, but for right now, I've got other things to take care of... the largest one being the continuation of my Roulette Championship run.

~Vaughn signals to his waist, showing where the title would be... if he had brought it with him. Apparently, it's back at the ranch, probably safely locked away. But Vaughn never forgets the feeling of the belt.~

Peter Vaughn: As of this Climate Control, I'll be at 155 days. That's more than James-Huntington-Hawkes III and Johnny Tsunami, both of whom had 127-day reigns. It'll tie me with the 155-day runs of Equinox and my Savior partner, Goth... which I'll surpass the next day. We're crossing names off the list at a rapid pace now. Still ahead of me? Alex Jones at 168 days. Kristopher Ryans at 169 days. Bill Barnhart at 182 days. And Griffin Hawkins, the current leader, at 190 days.

~Vaughn shows the four fingers to the camera as he counts off each person.~

Peter Vaughn: To surpass Griffin, I need to get to the middle of November with that championship still secured around my waist. A little over a month away. But it's doable, my friend. It's very doable. All I have to do is take down Rodrigo Afonso for a second time at High Stakes 13, and then find out who my final opposition will be. I can't wait, to be honest. But there's no harm in training up, is there?

~With that, Vaughn's smile finally fades, as he thinks about what's to come.~

Peter Vaughn: I can't say I'm a big fan of competing in a non-title match, even though it's clear this McCulligan guy isn't deserving of a shot. But it'll still keep me fresh, just like fighting in a tag-team match with some of the best in Sin City. So I'll wipe out McCulligan, making another statement about everyone who gets in the ring with me. Then I'll take Rodrigo for another ride, walk out of High Stakes with my championship, and get set for the final stretch.

~Vaughn gestures behind him, towards the building that he's apparently just bought. He also gestures over towards the Garden, which is already open and getting a lot of foot traffic in the area.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, I'm building an empire. And it's going to be built on breaking every record in my reach. Count on it, boyo.

~Vaughn nods to the cameraman, before heading back towards the building. He's probably already set to start some demo, which the cameraman has no interest in being part of. He still has some PTSD from the last time, after all. He turns and goes back towards his van, moving a little faster than he really needs to, as we slowly fade out.~


It's really amazing how quickly things can change.

One night, I'm defending my Roulette Championship against some of the best young talent in the business. The next night, I'm facing off against the top names in the company in a tag match, with a chance to make a big impact... a chance that unfortunately got mislaid along the way. But then, it won't be the only opportunity, and it certainly won't be a tag match the next time.

But hey, at least I can take pride in the fact that I was one of the last people to fight Michael Harris competitively before he completely lost his marbles. That's something, anyway.

Of course, you go from facing arguably the best in the business... to facing a curtain jerker. Man, wrestling is weird.

You'd think I'd earned more than this, but then, I suppose we did take a loss, ol' Goth and I. Goth didn't take it too well. I'm just planning on rolling with it, making the best of a bad situation. That means I've got to cut down someone from the bottom of the ladder, so be it. I'll do what needs to be done. I always do.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't already starting to look past this newbie and thinking about my next defense against Roddy. I have to remind myself that wrestlers who do that tend to get their asses handed to them... guys like Harris. You have to be coming in with your best, no matter what kind of trash opponent they set out in front of you. It's dangerous to underestimate your opposition, so I'll work my hardest to avoid that... even though it's going to be extremely difficult.

Because everything I've seen regarding this Tyler McCulligan fellow? I honestly don't see much to work with.


~As the screen lightens up again, we hear a very loud noise right near the camera.~

Voice: YEEEEEEEHHHAAAAAWWWWW!!!!

~A gate slams open, and a wild animal smashes past us, storming out onto the field of battle. The mighty beast bucks repeatedly, trying to throw the interloper off of its back so that the monster can then trample him. But the man on its back hangs on tightly with one hand, showing perfect expertise as he takes each motion in stride, staying in place as the count continues upwards. When the buzzer sounds, a number of rodeo clowns charge in from opposite sides as distractions, catching the large bull's attention. The man on back immediately hops off, slipping to the side and jogging over to the fence, making it safely over. As he lands and turns towards the camera, we see his handsome looks for the first time... and for all but the most observant, he is a complete unknown. He grins, though, as he steps forward to shake the hands of the two people who came over to watch him: Peter Vaughn and Sadie Anderson.~

Sadie Anderson: That was amazing, Keith!

Keith Cooper: Aw shucks, Miss Sadie, that was nothing. A baby could have ridden that bull.

Peter Vaughn: Really? That's a baby I don't think I'd ever want to face. It'd be like something out of Pet Cemetery or Children of the Corn.

~All three of them laugh, although Vaughn does seem to be picturing a monster baby riding on top of a bucking bull, and it's not a comforting picture in his mind.~

Keith Cooper: But really, Miss Sadie, you should be out there, too. I've seen you ride. I'm sure you could be a major competitor here if you wanted to be.

Sadie Anderson: Well, that's kind of you to say, Keith, but it's not for me.

Keith Cooper: And what about you, Mr. Pete? You'd be a natural out there, and you've trained yourself just perfectly to be able to maintain your balance, I bet!

Peter Vaughn: Maybe so, Keith, but I'm more than happy keeping my energy focused on smashing down the monsters I have to face in the ring. I don't need to add on any more here. Besides, you make it sound like it's all athletic, but I'm sure it takes a ton of training to pull off some of the things we've seen here tonight at the rodeo. I may own a ranch, but I didn't grow up in the life, and I'll never pretend to have the expertise many of you have.

~A loud buzzer is heard, the start of another rider taking his turn. The crowds cheers and gasps make it hard to tell exactly what's happening, but it's definitely dramatic. Keith looks over that direction, dusting himself off.~

Keith Cooper: Well, I need to get back. Another round is going to be coming up soon, and I need to find out what I need to do next.

Peter Vaughn: Keep making the PMV Ranch proud, Keith!

Sadie Anderson: We're behind you and Roger all the way!

~Keith tips his hat at both of them before walking off, trying (and failing) to hide a slight limp. Let's face it, riding a bull can be painful in certain areas. They watch him go, before Sadie turns and grabs hold of Peter's arm.~

Sadie Anderson: That was very smooth, boosting up his confidence while acting like you didn't think you could do what he does.

Peter Vaughn: ... Isn't that what I'm supposed to be saying? To make him feel even more determined to win?

Sadie Anderson: Oh, it was certainly the right sentiment. But how much of what you said do you actually believe? Did you mean the praise you said for Keith? And do you actually think you could ride that bull?

~Vaughn's quiet for a moment, looking out into the area where another cowboy is trying his luck. We see, in slow motion, the cowboy get bucked off before the time was up, taking a painful fall to the side. Thankfully, the others run in and quickly get him out of there before any permanent damage is done. Vaughn seems to still be thinking it over, though.~

Peter Vaughn: You want to hear the truth?

Sadie Anderson: That's always what I want to hear, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: The truth is... part of me does think I could do that. I'm trained to hang onto a top rope for dear life in battle royals. I'm practiced at getting thrown and coming back from it. So yeah, I think I could do it, but I have no interest in trying it. As for the other part... I don't really know how I feel, Sadie. I say the things I feel like I should... but a lot of time, the connection's not there. It's hard to explain...

Sadie Anderson: Try me.

~The two move off to the side, out of the line of traffic. The rodeo continues all around them, but the two are now separate from all that, as Vaughn tries to put into words the impossible: his broken emotions.~

Peter Vaughn: You know a lot of it, Sadie. How I was tortured and brainwashed in order to make me a better wrestler. How I lost my mind for a while, threatened families, and fought my way back to sanity. But in coming back from that, I've never been... normal. I just don't have the connections to my emotions like I once did. They fade in and out, usually out of reach. I can show Keith support and act like I'm proud of him, but do I feel that way? Or is it all an act? I can be here with you, at the rodeo, and I'm happy... but do I feel happy? Do I feel joy? I know it sounds like an easy question to answer, but... it's not. It never is.

~Vaughn sighs, leaning up against the wall of the stadium where the rodeo is taking place. Sadie stays quiet, knowing that she's wanted him to talk about this for a while now.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you know what it's like, to not be able to trust your own emotions? That's how it is to me. Sometimes I really wonder if I'm just a full-time actor, living my life according to however it's supposed to go, playing a part that I'm not sure belongs to me. Am I happy with it? With all of my wrestling success? With the ranch? With you? I want to say that I am. But I have to say, truthfully, that I'm not sure. I'm never sure.

~Vaughn turns to his side, looking away, and you'd think his rush of speech might lead to something showing on his face. Tears, perhaps, or at least signs of stress. But it's extremely hard to tell, as always, what's really running through Vaughn's mind. But it's easy to know about Sadie, as she pulls him back to face her... and steps into him, giving him a kiss. It's the first one the two have shared, the first true 'connection' between them. As Sadie steps back, Vaughn looks at her questioningly, having not expected that at all.~

Sadie Anderson: Then let me be sure for you, okay?

~All a stunned Vaughn can manage is a nod, as Sadie leans into him, giving him a strong hug that he returns. The two then separate, with Sadie reaching down to grab his hand.~

Sadie Anderson: Now, I believe we were on a date, although I still say taking a rancher to a rodeo for a date is like taking a dress designer to a fashion show. Still, we don't want to miss out on the roping competition, do we?

~Sadie and Vaughn walk off, arm in arm, as Vaughn puts a smile on his face for her. There are still questions behind his eyes, though, questions that even Sadie can't answer. As they depart, a man can be seen in the shadows, watching them. He takes a picture from his phone, then walks off, disappearing into the darkness.~


Sometimes it's the unknown that can trouble you the most, if you're not prepared.

Take the man known as Tyler McCulligan, a virtual unknown competitor in Sin City. We know he's part of a tag-team with Jane McCulligan, and their coach is a man named Charlie McCulligan. So I'm assuming it's a family business. You're the brother to Jane, the son to Charlie? Makes sense to me. So you guys think you can make the McCulligan name mean something. You probably think it already does, since it's at least a second-generation kind of thing, right?

Well, it doesn't, because I've never heard of you. Sorry, but that's just the honest truth from me.

I went to do some research on you, Tyler, to see what kind of a wrestler you were. All I've found so far is that you're a young kid with dreams of glory with nothing to back them up with. I remember seeing Jane's debut... and her getting the tar beaten out of her. That certainly wasn't pleasant. Then you had your own debut, Tyler, against a man I've defeated: Eddie Lyons. I will say, his Lyons Roar DDT looks pretty painful. I've never felt it myself... but you certainly have first-hand knowledge of it, don't you?

Then again, after an impact like that, you might not remember the match at all.

Then you guys went back to the drawing board, right? You said "We came into this as a tag-team, we ought to show what we're capable of together". So you got your little Rattie Pack a match against Finn Whelan and Kayla Richards, where you'd surely bring your best to the table. Except for the fact that they proved to be the very much superior mixed tag-team, wiping the floor with you better than I could with a mop.

And believe you me, I have a lot of experience with a mop.

So now, Tyler, it feels like your dreams are on a precipice, ready to fall into the depths of despair with very little effort on my part. It must suck, thinking that you might only have one more chance to impress the owners of Sin City, and they put you against me: The Mechanic. The reigning, defending Roulette Champion. A dominating singles force who has only lost one time on my own, taking down each and every person that's been thrown against me.

I have to say, boyo, the odds are not looking good for your little family's career run here. It might be time to pull up stakes and find another place to hone your craft, because I'm just not seeing it here in my place. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you'll find the motivation to actually compete in this one, bringing your A game and giving me a good cruiserweight battle. Hey, I'm always motivated to have one of those when I can. I'm definitely looking for a nice tune-up contest before I take on ol' Afonso again.

But I feel like you're going to disappoint me, Ty, and that's truly a bummer... because that just gives me the incentive to teach you a lesson in there. Maybe it'll be a dislocated finger or two. Maybe it could be a serious concussion that plagues you the rest of your life. Anything's possible, really, in this business.

You see, if you come into my ring, I expect you to show me you deserve to be there. Many have here in Sin City, and I've sung their praises afterwards. But there have been those that have failed to impress in any way, shape, or form, and they've ended up on the trash pile out back.

Are you going to end up there, Ty? And are you going to take your sister and dad with you? Family sticks together, after all, am I right? Or will your dad quickly wash his hands of you and walk away once you've proven to be a failure? Maybe your sister can get a better partner, someone worthy of her.

I'm sure there are other trainees out there.

But it's all an unknown, isn't it, Ty? Until you step between the ropes. Then you're going to know far more than you ever wanted to know.

I guarantee it.


~With the rodeo complete, Peter and Sadie are seen leaving through the exit, heading out to the parking lot. They head over to where Vaughn's pride and joy, Gabriella, is parked. He presses a button, automatically opening the passenger side for Sadie, who smiles.~

Sadie Anderson: Opening the door for someone is supposed to be a sign of a true gentleman, although you're actually supposed to do it yourself, not rig up your truck to do it for you.

Peter Vaughn: You know me and gadgets. Sometimes I can't help myself.

Sadie Anderson: So I hear. How are you feeling after our... talk?

Peter Vaughn: It felt... better to get it out there. I know you knew a lot of it, but some parts of it just... needed to be said. As for the kiss....

Sadie Anderson: You'd better not say you had a problem with th...

~Vaughn leans in, giving Sadie a soft kiss back. Sadie, grinning, looks up at him with sparkles in her eyes.~

Sadie Anderson: I really do like you, Peter Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: I like you, too, Sadie Anderson. There's never been anyone like you in my life.

Sadie Anderson: Even from... before?

~Vaughn laughs, even as he remembers those days.~

Peter Vaughn: Before... I was a geeky janitor who was forced into wrestling matches against my will. I've never been what anyone would call "a catch".

Sadie Anderson: Well, you've caught me, Peter. Now it's up to you to keep reeling me in.

~The two smile at each other, with Sade getting into the truck. Peter steps around it, patting Gabriella on the top as if to remind the truck not to get jealous before getting in. They drive away, as that mysterious individual from earlier steps out again, watching them. He gets out his phone, making a call.~

Man: It's me. You get the pictures? Is it him?

~The picture shifts, showing a woman sitting in a large chair, rocking back and forth as she looks at the phone in front of her. It has a picture of Vaughn and Sadie on it, although it was taken in haste without a flash, so it's not exactly a professional shot.~

Woman: It could definitely be him. Thank you for tracking him down. I'll handle it from here.

~The woman hangs up the phone and gets up, stretching for a moment before walking over to a crib. She reaches inside, pulling out a young child and holding him in her arms.~

Woman: Great news, William. I think we finally tracked down your father.

~The woman continues to rock the child as the picture slowly fades out.~



17
Climax Control Archives / Memories Of The Past Can Shape The Future
« on: September 22, 2023, 08:25:09 PM »
~We once again return to the Garden of Betrayal, a rather fabulous park that Peter Vaughn has created in the midst of what was once a large warehouse space. To be exact, we're actually outside of the garden, in the parking area that is the sole remaining piece from the original building. A van pulls into the lot, parking in its usual spot, shown from a drone shot from above. Yes, it's strange the cameraman is filming himself arriving, but you can never have too much extra footage nowadays, thanks to digital storage. The drone comes downwards, as the van door opens, with the cameraman stepping out to catch it.~

~The shot then changes to more of a traditional one, as the cameraman has now got the mounted camera on his shoulder in place. He checks a few items in front of him, sticking them away in various pockets.~

Cameraman: Let's see. Gatorade, lemon-lime flavor. Granola bars. Extra camera batteries. Okay, I think I'm about ready for another hike. Damn job.

~The camera shakes for a second, as the door gets slammed shut. The cameraman then turns, taking a deep breath before heading towards the entrance to the garden. That's when he hears a car horn behind him, sounding extremely close.~

Cameraman: OH GOD!!

~The cameraman frantically spins... but the car has already stopped. The passenger door opens, with Vaughn nodding to the woman in the driver's seat before hopping out. She then pulls away, as Vaughn jogs over to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, man. Sorry, did we startle you? I just didn't want you to hike all the way in there when we can do this just as easily out here.

Cameraman: That... actually sounds like a wonderful idea.

Peter Vaughn: We can just film right here at the gate, right?

~Vaughn walks over to the gate, but the cameraman instead turns, focusing again on the car that's now leaving quickly down the street. He then turns back to Vaughn, zooming in on him to get a close-up.~

Cameraman: Wait. Was that... Gwen? From the head office?

Peter Vaughn: She prefers Gwendolyn. And yes, she does work for Sin City, just like we do.

Cameraman: But, I thought... aren't you seeing Sadie Anderson now?

Peter Vaughn: Sure, I see Sadie all the time.

Cameraman: No, I mean...

~Vaughn looks puzzled for a second, before he finally understands. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: C'mon. Can't coworkers of different sexes share a car ride without people getting suspicious? Besides, Gwendolyn is 20 years older than me at least.

Cameraman: So... why are you in a car with her, then? Is this like when I saw you in the park talking to that other SCW guy, Steve something?

Peter Vaughn: I told you, that wasn't Steve. It was a, uh, lookalike, that's all.

Cameraman: I don't think so. I think you're trying to make lots of connections now in SCW. But why? What's pushing you to do it now?

~Vaughn sighs, before leaning an arm on the gate.~

Peter Vaughn: Because the squeaky wheel gets the grease. I mean, look at things so far? I went from defending my Roulette Title early in the show to being in the main event against some of the top headliners in the company. I'd say it's working, don't you?

Cameraman: I suppose... or it could be completely unrelated.

Peter Vaughn: I don't believe in coincidences.

~The wrestler takes a moment to get himself focused, before turning towards the camera and slipping a smile back on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: That said, I'm still doing everything I've said I was going to do. By the time the show gets here, I'll have surpassed 140 days as the SCW Roulette Champion. Fifty days left to the record, a path that I'm sure is going to get more and more treacherous. Maybe, in a way, this tag-team match is Sin City's way of trying to break that path. After all, if Goth and I defeat Harris & J2H, well, that'd make us the defacto #1 contenders soon, wouldn't it? And if I get past them all and win the Heavyweight Championship, I assume they'd force me to vacate the Roulette Title, leaving it for 'less experienced' competition.

~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders, not exactly impressed with who would be following after him in the Roulette division.~

Peter Vaughn: But that's not something to worry about at this point. As always, I'm taking my fights one at a time, and the next one's certainly a big one. The best of the best of Sin City will be facing off on Climax Control, with two men who can't stand each other facing off against two Saviors. If you're a betting man, I'd say the choice is pretty obvious. If you're not, then save your money, because the house always wins, right?

~Vaughn laughs to himself, even though the cameraman doesn't respond. It's a strange comment, after all. Vaughn notices this, shrugging to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: Anyhow, the journey continues, doesn't it? I look forward to one of the greatest battles I could ask for, with a chance to prove myself by throwing down those at the top of the mountain. It's going to be a hell of a war, guaranteed, and once it's over, I think a lot of people will have more respect for the Saviors and our future here in Sin City. With that, I'll talk to you later, boyo. I've got some more business to take care of inside the Garden.

~Vaughn does a quick nod of his head, almost a half-bow, before departing through the gate. He's quickly jogging up the path, as the cameraman moves, following him for a few steps before coming to the quick realization that there's no way he's keeping up. The cameraman then turns back to the van.~

Cameraman: Short day today. I wonder if I can tell them it took 3 hours again...

~The cameraman gets to the van, suddenly cursing as he realizes he's still filming. He then shuts down the camera, sending us quickly into darkness.~


~The picture comes back up, showing us a beautiful view of the East Texas landscape. The shot moves across the land, showing us a cloud of dust moving in the distance. The drone moves closer, revealing that we're seeing a small herd of cattle being directed across the plains by several ranchers, each riding on either side of the herd. They all seem to be trained well at their jobs, as not a single calf is escaping their attention. The drone moves down to the far left, where two specific riders can be seen, keeping up with the group. One appears to have ridden horses all her life, looking completely confident. The other is less steady, although no less in control, pulling the reins tightly.~

Sadie Anderson: Your grip's a little tight there, Peter. Remember, trust in your horse, and he'll never steer you wrong.

Peter Vaughn: So you say. Your "steed" didn't try to bite you earlier.

~Vaughn readjusts his grip, while still keeping a wary eye on the horse, who seems to snicker as if he understands.~

Sadie Anderson: Niels is one of our horses with more... personality than most. But he'll get you where you need to go.

Peter Vaughn: I still prefer ATV's.

Sadie Anderson: That would just spook the cattle, you know that.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, you're right. But next time, as ranch owner, I pick the horses, got it?

~Sadie laughs, seeing no problems with this. She pulls her horse a little closer to Vaughn's as they continue to ride, smiling at him. He returns it the best he can, still trying to work through his own feelings, as lessened as they are. Sadie then glances to the right, spotting something.~

Sadie Anderson: We're starting to lose one. I guess she can't wait until we get to the fresh grass around the next bend.

~The camera shows that one of the cattle is, indeed, slowing down, having turned to the left to consider a patch of grass there. Sadie, the experienced ranch hand, immediately begins to move back that way to corral her.~

Sadie Anderson: I'll be right back.

Peter Vaughn: That's what they all say.

~Sadie quickly moves off with her horse, Lightning, taking no time in getting over to the 'runaway'. She starts to run around the cow, startling it and causing it to head back towards the pack. Vaughn watches as his horse trots on, marveling at her skill on the back of a horse. He smiles, knowing that he's lucky he found her. That's when there's a hiss nearby, from underneath, and suddenly the horse is bucking upwards violently, standing up on its hind legs.~

Peter Vaughn: Whoa! Neils! NEILS!!!

~Vaughn spins, grabbing at the horn on his saddle, but his fingers slide off of it, just barely unable to get a grip. In a split second, Vaughn is airborne, thrown from the back of his panicking horse, flying backwards towards the ground behind them. Instinctively, Vaughn's wrestling training kicks in, as he works to flatten out to take the bump across more of his body. This is very effective in a wrestling ring. It's less effective on the uneven, rocky ground of East Texas. Peter hits hard... and the lights go out.~


~After a few seconds, Peter sits up, rubbing the back of his head. He takes a deep breath, calming himself, as he checks for any other obvious injuries.~

Peter Vaughn: Do they still send horses to glue factories? Or was that a myth? Either way, Neils, you're in for it now...

~Peter then stops, looking upwards in surprise, as a hand is lowered down to him, offering to help him up. After a moment, Peter accepts, grabbing hold with his right hand and getting pulled to his feet. He stares at the man in front of him, considering his options, as the man smiles back at him.~

Man: Hello, Peter. It's good to see you.

Peter Vaughn: Hey... Dad. It's been a while. I haven't seen you since...

Mr. Vaughn: The funeral? I wasn't exactly looking the best then, was I?

~Peter's deceased father gives a glowing grin to his son, grabbing him by the shoulders before pulling him into a hug. Peter, clearly out of his element, just accepts it, hugging his father back.~


You never know what this world is going to throw at you next, do you?

For instance, I can state with certainty that when I put down the challenge of Afonso, I wasn't expecting to be hit with the news that I would not only be wrestling again a week later, but it'd be against two of the best talkers in the business? I mean, how else can you explain Michael Harris and J2H convincing management to allow them to keep fighting in the main event of PPV after PPV? The guys have silver tongues, no doubt. They're lining up for a third bite of the apple, aren't they? Using Goth and I as a way to keep their feud going, even though everyone in the audience knows that there's no way these two can work together.

I'd say it was like oil and water coming together, but let's face it, both are heavily oiled down at this point.

So Michael Harris beat J2H for the championship at Violent Conduct. Before that, J2H beat Harris for the belt at Summer XXXtreme. So does that make them both winners... or both losers? It's really open to the viewer's interpretation, isn't it? Neither was able to hold onto the gold when they had the champion's advantage, and they even knew what type of match they were going to be in beforehand. There's a certain amount of planning one has to do to ensure that they stay a champion in this universe.

Both of their plans failed. Does that make them failures?

Now, me personally? I don't want to think of them as losers or failures, because then, a victory over them would mean a lot less. I want to add them as worthy names to my List of the Vanquished, placing them alongside some of the greats I've taken down over the last few years. Former World Champions like James Raven, Matt Knox, Mac Bane, all comparable to names like Harris and J2H.

By the way, James, congrats on successfully shortening your name like that. You saved the announcers a lot of syllables in the long run, I'm sure they appreciate it. Plus, there are enough bird-named wrestlers floating around there. Best to just forget about the Hawkes part, anyway.

Really, Harris should take your example and run with it. Immortal Michael Harris. IMH.

Nah, sounds like a venereal disease, never mind.

Besides, no man is immortal. Time will catch up to all of us. No one's ever made it out of life alive, after all. But can a person be remembered for all time? That's certainly possible. I think Harris and J2H both have a chance of making that happen, maybe Michael more than initials boy. But I haven't given up on my own prospects of that. I'm a six-time World Champion, and very interested in adding to that number. I've taken the Roulette Title to heights that no one expected.

And now, Goth and I can be remembered by tearing down the terrible two of Sin City in one fell swoop, blackening their records right before their eyes as the Saviors rule supreme.

That would definitely shock the two 'main eventers', wouldn't it? Having their own challenge tossed back in their faces? Oh, the look in their eyes when they realize what's going to happen to them... I really can't wait...


~The embrace is slowly released, with Peter stepping away and looking around the area. It looks like the same Texas plains that they had been herding the cattle through, but there's now no sign of the cattle nor the herders. In fact, it's strangely quiet, with only a small breeze rolling through the grass. After a second, Peter turns back to his father, who is waiting patiently for the expected questions.~

Peter Vaughn: So... am I dead then? Because I've been to Hell, and this sure doesn't look like that place, but I can't see them letting me head upstairs...

Mr. Vaughn: No, son. You're not dead. I'm not here to take you anywhere. You just took yourself a nasty spill off of your horse and hit your head, that's all.

Peter Vaughn: Ahhh. So it's just brain damage. Great. Good to know.

Mr. Vaughn: Hah! You think a fall like this could do any more damage than all you've put yourself through inside that squared circle of yours?

Peter Vaughn: ... Touche. So I'm not dead, and I'm not, like, comatose... I'm just... where again?

Mr. Vaughn: Let's just say that your fall knocked you into a slightly different plane of existence for a short time and leave it at that, okay? You always did tend to overthink things, son. Why not just enjoy the ride?

~Peter can only shake his head at this, hearing his father's eternal optimism. It helped his dad survive when his wife left him to be the only parent of a young boy, working as a janitor under excruciating conditions in order to keep food on the table for them. For a time, it felt like something he had passed on to Peter... but wrestling took care of that, for the most part.~

Peter Vaughn: So what's the next part of the ride, then?

Mr. Vaughn: Just hang out with me here, son. That's all I can ask. It's beautiful country around here, isn't it?

~Mr. Vaughn looks around in wonder, apparently enjoying the sights. Peter can't help but smile, remembering that his father spent the majority of his life behind glass windows in city apartment buildings.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. It really IS nice here. When I heard the ranch here was for sale and saw the land, I had to have it.

Mr. Vaughn: And you made sure to swindle that family out of it as cheaply as possible, didn't you, with that inspector you paid off, what's his name...

Peter Vaughn: ... Corsairs. But they were lucky I helped them out. Nobody else was buying this place.

Mr. Vaughn: That's a lie, and you can't tell lies to me here, son. I know pretty much everything I need to know.

~The mood has taken a considerable shift downwards, with Peter rubbing at the back of his head, suddenly uncertain. He shakes it off, though, as he's still proud of his ranch.~

Peter Vaughn: I've gotten pretty successful in life, Dad. I've brought fame and success to the Vaughn family name, something it hadn't seen in a long while.

Mr. Vaughn: Yes, well, I've watched a lot of what you've done for your 'success'. It hasn't been that pleasing to watch, kiddo, I don't mind saying. Many times, I've thought to myself that I had raised you better than that...

~Both men are silent, as Peter can only look away, controlling his frustration at his father's words only by clenching his fists closed, then opening them again. But Mr. Vaughn isn't through, as he puts a hand on Peter's shoulder.~

Mr. Vaughn: But I've seen lately that you've made some changes. You're starting to care again. You've been there for your half-brother Thomas, and for my own daughter, Samantha. You've even started to form something with your girl, Sadie, something I didn't know if I'd ever see happen. And you've been showing the world that you can be successful even without someone else's help, staying a champion with minimal interference. You've been making strides, son. And I just want you to know... I'm proud of you.

~This one shakes Peter a bit, as he wasn't expecting things to go that way. He actually wipes a hand across his eyes, as if clearing them. Mr. Vaughn smiles, seeing a version of his son that hasn't been around that often. Peter then straightens up, blinking a few times before regaining control.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry. Ahem. Some dust must have gotten blown into my eyes.

Mr. Vaughn: Uh huh.

Peter Vaughn: I will say, Dad... I do miss you. I know we didn't get along the best near the end, but I thought we did reconnect on that cliff that day. Our final talk, although I did most of the talking, didn't I?

Mr. Vaughn: I'm just glad you didn't push me off the edge of that cliff, you weren't exactly stable in those days, were you?

~Both men share a laugh, which strangely almost sounds like an echo. Clearly, Peter got his laugh from his father's side of the family. They finish, with Peter looking around again, while again rubbing the back of his head.~

Peter Vaughn: So what's next? We just sit here enjoying the scenery while they put Humpty Dumpty together again back in the real world?

~Mr. Vaughn's smile fades away, as he lets out a sigh.~

Mr. Vaughn: You know it's never that easy, son.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. Yeah, I kind of figured.

~There's a sudden pick-up in wind as both men turn to the west, taking in what appears to be an oncoming storm. The black clouds move extremely fast, even for a Texas squall, heading right towards them.~

Mr. Vaughn: You can enjoy the peace of the light, but you'll always have to deal with its opposite: the dark.

Peter Vaughn: ... Bring it on. Vaughns don't back down.

~Peter squares off, preparing himself, as the storm gets closer... closer... and is upon them.~


Everyone's got a little darkness in them, don't they?

Just look at Goth. The Messiah of Pain. He's certainly led a colorful life in his run through Sin City, hasn't he? A two-time SCW Heavyweight Champion. A four-time Roulette Champion. A two-time Internet Champion. Tag Champion. Mixed Tag Champion. There's very little that Goth hasn't done in this company. And yet, since his return, I've felt a lot of reluctance from others to accept his talents. They haven't considered him a threat to them, nor have they taken the danger of the Saviors seriously, as if Mac and Kenny were the true hearts of the group.

That's precisely the reason that they're all going to fall to the Saviors down the road. Overconfidence. Overlooking the competition.

It can make people like Mikey and Hawkes vulnerable.

Of course, the #1 thing we have going for us is the fact that we're actually a team. Okay, sure, I've been rather... interested in moving up towards the Heavyweight Title, the same as Goth. But doesn't mean we can't be a dangerous duo, a terrifying team-up, an unstoppable juggernaut together. We've worked together before, to great success, and we've fought each other in the past as well, so we tend to know each other's strengths and weaknesses, just like our opponents.

We'll also not be looking to get in that cheap shot on our teammate like Harris & J2H probably will be.

I mean, c'mon, you guys KNOW you don't trust each other. J2H badly wants to reclaim that championship that he only held for a short time before Harris snatched it back. Harris is frightened that J2H can once again dethrone him, and will surely do anything in his considerable power to make sure that happens. Is anyone out there really not expecting one of them to turn on each other at Climax Control? Please. It's almost guaranteed to happen.

The only real question is will it happen before the match, leaving us in a handicap situation? During the match, with someone ko'ing their 'partner' and leaving them for the pin? Or can they somehow hold it together until after the bell, blindsiding the other when they least expect it? Honestly, I don't expect the last one to happen. Their competitive spirits are too strong.

When Harris is standing on the apron, demanding the tag because he thinks J2H is getting his ass handed to him by Goth, J2H is going to be resenting it. When J2H starts laughing after I rub Harris' face into the mat with little respect or remorse, Harris is going to remember it. And when one of them inevitably screws up and 'accidentally' slaps the other, things will fall apart. And us Saviors? We'll capitalize, like we always do. And the egg will be all over the faces of the "main eventers" as they are embarrassed on national television.

Then again, would either of these guys ever allow themselves to feel embarrassment? Probably not.

But inside, they'll feel that shame. They'll think to themselves, if I had just WORKED with that asshole in my corner, perhaps we could have avoided this. They'll think, it didn't have to end this way.

And then, when one passes out to the Gothic Dream while the other takes the Plunge, they won't be thinking anymore. At least for a while.

But I hope it helps motivate them in their main event match at High Stakes. Because whoever survives that encounter? They're going to have to deal with us again. Soon.


~It's basically like a Texas Twister. The tornado swirls around both men, cutting off their view of everything else, as they stand in the eye of the storm. Peter faces it head-on, showing no fear, ready for anything.~

Peter Vaughn: So what now? We fly up to Oz or something?

Mr. Vaughn: No, Peter. We stay here. Everyone must face their own darkness, as I know you do every day of your life. It doesn't have to control you. You don't have to feel fear.

Peter Vaughn: Fear? Hah! I don't feel fear. As for it controlling me...

~The wild winds suddenly seem to be shrinking, passing right through the two men. Mr. Vaughn leans away from it, but Peter just puts out his hand, seemingly containing the storm right on his palm. He stares at it, feeling its power.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm the one who's been in control of the darkness for the last two years. And look what I've done with it.

~As Peter holds up the 'storm', we see a championship belt shine across his midsection, locking into place. He smiles, liking the feel of the gold, as he continues to hang onto the spinning cloud in front of him. But his father doesn't look pleased, as he steps forward, grabbing hold of Peter's other arm.~

Mr. Vaughn: No, son. You only THINK you've been in control. But nobody can control the darkness. Not even you.

~Suddenly, the storm starts growing again, despite all of Peter's attempts to control it. It begins to spin just around Peter, as if threatening to consume him, even as he stretches out his free hand, fighting it. But just as suddenly, Peter's clear of it... pulled out of it by his deceased father, who clings to his other arm, keeping him from falling back inside.~

Peter Vaughn: I... I can still take it, Dad. I can still bring it under my control...

Mr. Vaughn: Or you can let it go for now, Peter. Let it be. Use your gifts the way they were meant to be used. Your soul does not need to be black for your waist to be golden. Trust me on this, son. A father always knows.

~Confused, Peter looks back at his dad, while his left hand reaches once more for the 'storm'... before dropping back to his side. The darkness spins away, leaving them both, although it's not going anywhere. It'll always be there, in some form or fashion. After watching it depart, Peter looks back at his father, who's still clutching at his right hand.~

Mr. Vaughn: You still have greatness ahead of you, Peter. And you know I'll be watching.

Peter Vaughn: ... Dad...

~The father smiles, a grin that Peter has secretly longed to see for at least a year now. He steps towards his father, wanting one final embrace of his closest family...~


~And that's when Peter Vaughn wakes up, looking up into the clear, blue sky. He looks to his left... seeing Neils the horse leaning over, munching at something it found on the ground. To the right... he sees a worried-looking Sadie, still holding his right arm.~

Sadie Anderson: Thank God you're awake. Just stay down. We've got help coming, okay?

Peter Vaughn: ... I'm okay. Let me just...

~Despite Sadie trying to stop him, Peter sits up, immediately feeling the pain from the back of his head. He checks there, feeling a lump, but not finding much in the way of blood, which is a relief, really.~

Sadie Anderson: You took a pretty bad bump, Peter. You scared the hell out of me.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, I've had a lot worse. I should tell you about this time on the top of a Hell in a Cell cage... well, it didn't end well for me... I survived that. I'm sure I'll survive this. Just help me get up, this ground is making me feel itchy...

~Peter ignores the pain, working his way up, with Sadie giving him a helping hand the rest of the way up. A few other cowboys nearby quickly start talking to each other, with one holding over a handful of cash to a second one. They clearly had bets on whether Peter would stay down. A sucker bet, the guy who lost his money deserved it. Peter, meanwhile, makes his way over towards Neils, glaring at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Ever had horsemeat stew? I've heard it can be a delicacy.

Sadie Anderson: You'd never do that, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, really? Why not?

Sadie Anderson: Because you'd have to spend money replacing the horse, for one thing.

~Peter considers that for a moment, before nodding... and then immediately regretting the nod.~

Peter Vaughn: Ow... okay, you're right, Sadie. But I'm going to be switching horses. Hey, who over there bet against me? It's time to switch.

~One of the cowboys groans before riding over, reluctantly getting off his horse.~

Sadie Anderson: Are you sure you'll be okay to ride back?

Peter Vaughn: Don't worry about me, Sadie. I always bounce back, no matter what goes down. I guess... it kind of runs in the family.

~Sadie, confused, doesn't say anything, even as Peter stares in the distance at the lowering sun, taking in the colors that are displayed in the sky. We slowly fade out.~


And now, the stage is set. Two of the greatest superstars to ever come to Sin City... vs. Michael Harris and J2H. What a war this is likely going to be.

I can't wait to see what the two of you can bring to the battlegrounds. I can't wait to see everything you do fail.

It's the night of the Saviors. It's the beginning of the end for the top title being out of our grasp.

It's going to be the highest rated match in Sin City Climax Control history.

And in the end? It'll be a Plunge for the ages.

See you then, boyos.
    

18
Climax Control Archives / Making An Impression
« on: September 15, 2023, 06:44:18 PM »
~The picture opens up on a beautiful shot of the Garden of Betrayal, shown through the lens of our intrepid cameraman. He is moving forward along the path, grumbling to himself as he continues the journey towards the center of the garden area that Peter Vaughn had built in this specific lot. There are a few other people walking around the paths, admiring the floral additions to the now-public garden. The cameraman passes by one such couple, with the first lady talking excitedly about the shrubbery.~

First Woman: I'm telling you, Flo, this was shipped into the country. This bush has the Rose of Jericho, the Anastatica. There's no way it should be here in Texas, growing the way it is! It had to have been imported from Iraq, or somewhere in the Middle East!

Second Woman: So it's a pretty flower from overseas. So what? It's not like it's that different from the Yellow Roses of Texas...

First Woman: I'm just saying, I hope they got the correct permits for this. It's like introducing a foreign lifeform into the soil. Who knows what will happen next?

Second Woman: There you go overexaggerating again. It's not an alien, Christie. Now, c'mon, let's get something to eat. All this walking has made me hungry.

~The first woman, Christie, laughs at her girlfriend's appetite as they walk off. The cameraman, meanwhile, takes a closer shot of the plant in question.~

Cameraman: Hmmm. I'll have to remember to ask SCW if they can backdate some paperwork, just in case...

~Sighing, the cameraman moves on, knowing his way through the paths now to get to his destination. He comes around the corner to the large pavilion in the center of the 'labyrinth', where he finds Peter Vaughn sitting with another individual, apparently talking business. The cameraman, taking note of a story when he sees it, starts to zoom in, but Vaughn seems to sense his presence. He gets up, blocking the view, as he turns to the man in question.~

Peter Vaughn: Just consider my offer, okay? Now, I've got some other business to attend to, so if you'll excuse me...

~Vaughn turns and walks over to the cameraman, his arms outstretched as if welcoming him. Of course, it's also to help shield the man, who's quickly hurrying away down the opposite path. The cameraman, apparently deciding it's in his best interests not to follow, focuses on Vaughn instead.~

Peter Vaughn: So, enjoy the walk here, boyo?

Cameraman: If I have to keep filming you here, I'm going to lose 20 pounds from all the walking. That's if my knees hold up from the strain of carrying the equipment.

Peter Vaughn: They'll make it. The lesser weight will certainly help. Never knock exercise, it's good for you. So let's talk.

~Vaughn waves the cameraman over to the side, where a large metal swing has been set up. The cameraman hesitates for a moment as Vaughn gets to it, taking a seat and swinging back and forth.~

Cameraman: When did this get here?

Peter Vaughn: Oh, the Garden of Betrayal will be changing regularly, friend. I plan there to be something new every chance I get. It makes things more... interesting.

Cameraman: Uh huh.

~Vaughn smirks as he continues a slow rock back and forth, while taking a second to pull himself back together.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about how things are progressing. My Saviors ally, Goth, is back and getting near full strength, having beaten down Bill Barnhart decisively at Violent Conduct IX. Meanwhile, I got maybe a little too into the Knockouts Only match for my Roulette Championship, as I probably didn't need to use that sledgehammer to knock Eddie Lyons out. Still, one can't say that it didn't work successfully, right? Hopefully, Lyons is able to resume his career once his ears stop ringing. If they ever do.

~Vaughn shrugs, not at all ashamed at having won the match within the 'rules', as they were. He then finally stands up out of the swing, getting to his feet, so that he can pat the championship still wrapped around his waist.~

Peter Vaughn: One hundred and thirty-two days so far as Roulette Champion. We're continuing to rack up the history there. That's already more days than Goth's most recent run with the title. I'm gaining on his 155-day run in 2015. The 190 day record shared by Griffin Hawkins and Alex Jones? We've got to make it to November to challenge for that one. But then, November's not that far away, is it? Halfway through September already... which means I bet the challengers start getting more and more intense the closer I get.

~Vaughn's smile falters slightly as he thinks things over, as we can hear some of the birds chirping happily through the new 'space' for them to nest in.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you think the record will be protected? I mean, a lot of people really love that Hawkins, so they may not take too kindly to me challenging his record. I don't know about Jones, other than his name is so... ordinary. Still, he might have friends too in the higher-ups. Roger Maris went through hell trying to break Babe Ruth's record. I wonder if I'll be going through the same thing. Hopefully with less hair loss.

~After a moment's more contemplation, the smile breaks through on Vaughn's face once more.~

Peter Vaughn: That said, I welcome the challenge. I want to prove I deserve to be in the running for the longest Roulette Champion ever. I don't know if facing guys like Rodrigo Afonso will do that, but at least it's a match. It's an opportunity for me to get out there and once again add a successful defense to my long list of competitors I've taken down so far. At the end of all of this, I want people to say "That was the greatest Roulette Champion of all time"...

~With that, Vaughn sits back in the swing, rocking as he nods to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: And, of course... that's just the beginning... Sin City will never know what hit them.

~Vaughn takes a deep breath and lets it out, before looking back at the cameraman, as if remembering he's still there.~

Peter Vaughn: Feel free to relax for a bit before heading back. I know it's a long journey. Drinks are in the cooler over there.

~Vaughn gestures, but the cameraman doesn't turn away. He seems to zoom in slightly on Vaughn, wanting a closer view for his question.~

Cameraman: That guy you were sitting with...

Peter Vaughn: ... What about him?

Cameraman: He seemed very familiar to me. I feel like I've seen him... backstage at a Sin City event...

~Vaughn's eyes open slightly wider, before he shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Nope. You're thinking of someone else. This guy's, uh, shorter. So, anyway, I've got to go. Enjoy the drinks!

~Vaughn pops out of the swing, dusting himself off before heading quickly down the path, away from the cameraman, who stays zoomed in on him, following as long as possible before Vaughn disappears around a bend. The cameraman then sighs before moving over to the cooler, popping it open... and finding what appear to be Capri Sun's. He sighs again, before shutting off the feed.~


~As the images start coming back, we're apparently in an extremely dark place. Either that, or the cameraman forgot to remove the lens cap. But seconds later, we find ourselves blinded by a bright light, flashing right at the camera. It comes closer, allowing us to see that it's from a miner's helmet, worn by none other than Peter Vaughn. He's looking around the dark space, looking for any imperfections in the wall. He apparently finds something, as he marks one side with a red mark.~

Peter Vaughn: I want another support placed here. You can never make something like this 'too safe', okay? Otherwise, it's coming along nicely, Joe.

~Vaughn turns back, showing there's another worker behind Vaughn, who is already making a note to himself on his phone about the new support strut needed.~

Joe: We'll get that done, sir. We'll have this irrigation well fully built for you by the end of the week, you don't have to worry about it.

Peter Vaughn: I appreciate your confidence, but this isn't a rush job. Make sure it's good. I'd hate for this to cave in on anyone in the near future.

~Vaughn looks around for a second, perhaps remembering his recent adventures overseas where he was temporarily buried alive. It's not something you easily forget. Vaughn then nods to Joe before moving out of the passageway, heading towards where the light is coming in. He heads there, climbing out and switching off his headlamp before setting the helmet to the side. Waiting for him there, with her arms crossed, is his top ranch hand, Sadie Anderson.~

Sadie Anderson: Having fun down there in the dirt, while the rest of us are taking care of all the afternoon chores?

Peter Vaughn: "Chores"? You make it sound like all of those guys you made me bring aboard here aren't getting paid for their work. They've been doing a great job of it, but they're not cheap, are they?

Sadie Anderson: You can have things cheap, fast, or dedicated: pick two.

~Vaughn smirks, before getting himself dusted off. He's still got on his usual coveralls, his favorite to wear even in the Texas heat. Sadie is more appropriately dressed for a ranch hand, complete with her gray cowboy hat perched on her head.~

Peter Vaughn: So what brings you out there, other than to complain about my work habits?

Sadie Anderson: Well, I know you're still catching up on mail now that you're back in the states, but I wanted to make sure you saw this one, since it's coming up tonight.

~Sadie hands over a large letter to Vaughn, who raises an eyebrow at her.~

Peter Vaughn: ... You've read my mail?

Sadie Anderson: I didn't have to. I know what this one is about.

~Intrigued, Vaughn pops open the letter, looking at the invitation within. He reads through it at least twice before looking back at Sadie, confused.~

Peter Vaughn: The Cattleman's Ball? Is this a pretty important event or something?

Sadie Anderson: I'd say so. All of the cattle barons around these parts will be there, along with politicians, advisors, and other important figures in our industry. It's the chance for all you fat cats to get together and brag about your accomplishments for the year, while blowing a bunch of money on booze and caviar.

Peter Vaughn: I'll have you know, I've never been fat a day in my life. I mean, it's hard to be fat when you grow up poor, but I've never let myself get that way after getting financially secure, either. That said... is this that important? I've got a few projects here on the ranch I'm still behind on, thanks to the overseas tour.

Sadie Anderson: Will those you care about give a damn if you're not there? Nope. They'll be fine with it. But will the people we need to keep this ranch growing the way you want take offense? Probably. I really do think you should go.

~Vaughn thinks about that for a few seconds, looking around the ranch area. It's become his pride and joy since buying it last year, as he's really turned it into a viable business in only a relatively short amount of time. It's his business away from the wrestling ring, and it's something that he wants to see succeed. That makes his decision obvious.~

Peter Vaughn: Alright. Guess I'll go, then, if we can get a reservation.

Sadie Anderson: That shouldn't be a problem.

Peter Vaughn: So. Want to come with me?

~Sadie, who had been starting to walk away to make the phone calls, stops abruptly.~

Sadie Anderson: ... What did you say?

Peter Vaughn: Just asked if you want to come. I'm usually supposed to have a +1 in this situation, right?

~Sadie seems speechless, trying to work it through in her head that Peter Vaughn has actually asked her out. But Vaughn's expression hasn't changed. He just seems to be looking at her with a friendly grin, but nothing else behind it. Confused, she just nods.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, then. It says here 6pm, but we'll probably want to leave early due to that Dallas traffic. I'll meet you out here at 5:00? Cool. I'm going to head back down, check on how Joe's doing. Digging can be treacherous, after all. I'll see you later? ... Okay, bye!

~Still smiling, Vaughn turns and goes back under, disappearing from sight. Sadie's still standing there, stunned. How many times has she thought about this moment? And yet she was completely unprepared for it. She shakes her head, trying to recover, when suddenly, she hears a scraping noise, as Vaughn walks back out of the work area.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry. Forgot my hat.

~Vaughn pops on the miner's helmet, before considering that Sadie still looks out of it.~

Peter Vaughn: You okay? Go and get some water. This Texas heat is nothing to scoff at.

~With that, Vaughn heads back inside, as Sadie just nods her head slowly before walking off towards the homestead. We fade out.~


It's crazy the things you have to do to stand out, isn't it?

Like, for instance, having a match at a major Pay-Per-View with the Troll.

I know, Rod, you're probably going to expect me to bash you for facing someone like him at the event preceding your title shot. But you know what? I, too have faced the Troll at a major event. Well, sort of. He kind of fell in the pool during the Ultimate X match before we had even really gotten going. But it still counts, I suppose. So that means that you and I have that in common. We've both beaten the Troll on a big stage.

The difference is, I did it for a championship, after I'd already earned my accolades here in Sin City. You, Rodrigo? You still have barely gotten your feet wet at this point. At least most of my opponents have done enough to be declared true contenders. Even Eddie Lyons had to win a #1 contendership for this opportunity. But you, Roddy? You just show up, beat the Troll, and they say you're worthy?

It has to be that gold medal, doesn't it? They think you could be someone because you did well in the Olympics once upon a time... for skateboarding. Gotta say, kid, I'm not really a fan of that 'sport'. Sure, you have to have good balance and be athletic, but you never have to dodge as a steel chair is swung into your face, so is it TRULY a sport? Still, I guess it comes with a little prestige, just seeing how they're rushing you into a title shot, just like they pushed Lyons because of his family connections.

It's funny. I've never needed my family's reputation to be successful in this business. It's surprising how many of you seem to lean on that.

But let's not take away from the fact that you are athletic, Rodney. You definitely have the design specs to become something truly special in this sport. Even that crispy-fried face of yours will come in handy in the wrestling ring, as the fans love to boo someone's looks. Trust me, I've been on the receiving end of that before. The face paint should at least help.

What you're lacking, Rod, is the experience necessary to hang in that ring with someone like me. It's the same problem Eddie Lyons had, and look at him now. What are you going to do, boyo, if you get put in a Knockouts Only match against me? Are you going to try and hit me with your skateboard? Is that your only weapon? Because skateboards break, kid. So do bones, if they're hit just right.

I almost ended one man's career, kid. I'd hate to end yours as well. Maybe you ought to think about returning to the Olympics and leaving the professional work to us grown-ups.

Because I certainly can't guarantee your safety when you're in there with me. All I can guarantee is that, when it's all over, I'll be walking out still the SCW Roulette Champion. You, however, might just be leaving on a stretcher.

But that'll all depend on the Wheel, won't it?


~We're later on in the day now, judging by the light coming through the windows. Peter Vaughn walks in from the side, having gotten in his workout before getting cleaned up. He's now wearing what appears to be an expensive tuxedo, one that he had custom made for events like this. He never looks comfortable in it, though, as he's currently fidgeting with the cufflinks.~

Peter Vaughn: You about ready up there, Sadie? We probably need to get going. They mailed over our RSVP, right? So we're set?

~From upstairs, we hear Sadie's voice, as she finishes up her last-minute additions to her outfit.~

Sadie Anderson: Yes, we've got what we need. Give me one more minute, okay?

Peter Vaughn: ...

~Vaughn moves over to the side, taking a seat in one of the large chairs. But it rocks slightly, immediately getting his attention. He pops up, pushing the chair over so that he can look at the legs, checking them out. He reaches into one inside pocket of his tux... pulling out a wrench that he apparently carries with him always. He does a couple of twists on one leg, readjusting it. He then checks the others, confident that they're holding, before putting the chair back down. It now doesn't rock as Vaughn sits, earning a smile from him as he pockets the wrench again. In the meantime, Sadie has appeared in a gorgeous green dress, shimmering in the light as she walks carefully down the stairs. She smiles shyly at Vaughn, who glances up at her.~

Peter Vaughn: Nice dress. Did it cost a lot?

Sadie Anderson: I... well, it wasn't cheap...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, neither was this penguin suit. Anyhow, I think I've got this chair fixed. Nobody had told me that it was getting loose on the bottom. I'll have to check the supports later, see if they're holding. So are you about ready to go?

~Sadie seems a little put off by the lack of comments about her dress, adding to her confusion about tonight's event. But she decides to just push through and see what happens.~

Sadie Anderson: I'm ready, yes. Did you rent a car for tonight?

Peter Vaughn: ... No. Was I supposed to?

Sadie Anderson: Well, I don't think this is an event you go to in your truck...

~Vaughn's eyes narrow at the thought of not driving his beloved Gabriella tonight. It's a gorgeous truck, but then, it probably ISN'T setting the right statement as they arrive. Vaughn then shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay then. We'll take Thiago.

Sadie Anderson: ... Thiago?

~We have a quick camera cut, taking us into one of the small warehouses on the ranch property where Vaughn keeps many of his belongings. One of them, apparently, is a shiny sports car, as he pulls the cover off of it to reveal it to Sadie.~

Sadie Anderson: ... I've NEVER seen this before! How'd you keep this hidden? Where did you even get it??

Peter Vaughn: Eh, it was the prize for winning a tournament a while back. I mostly just let Thomas drive it, but he's still recovering, so it's been staying here lately. You think this will work?

Sadie Anderson: Can... can I drive it?

Peter Vaughn: Hah. No. Get in.

~Vaughn quickly goes to the other side, hopping inside, as Sadie reluctantly gets in the passenger seat. With both doors shut, the sports car revs up, before peeling out of the warehouse garage. It's obviously been well-maintained by Vaughn, as it drives smoothly away from the ranch, speeding up as it hits the highway nearby. Clearly, they're going to get to the Cattleman's Ball quicker than expected. We cut away again.~


I love moving fast. It's a thrill that I'll never grow tired of.

I think you can appreciate that, Roddy. Whether you're on your feet, on a board, or in an automobile, there's nothing like that acceleration that can get your blood pumping.

Of course, going too fast can quickly get you sidelined. Hope that's not in your future, Afonso.

BTW... I have to ask... why Afonso? Did you worry so much about "taking the L" that you had it removed from your name? I get it, it's a family name, and I'm probably being insensitive by even bringing it up, but I gotta admit, I'm really wanting to say "Alfonso" every single time. Oh well. People used to leave the "N" off the end of my name, so I guess that's another thing we have in common.

So in a contest like this, I'm sure you think your best chance would be a fast-paced affair, and I can understand that. The problem is, Rod, you and I are pretty similar in that regard. Everything that will work towards your skill set? It'll do the same for me. You and I, we're not power lifters. We're not brainless muscle heads. No, we're high-flyers, and that means that we could really steal the show this week if the match gods are kind to us.

But while we're pretty even in that department, Roderick, I excel above you in almost every other category. Obviously, I'm more experienced, but I'm also better thinking through problems, which is something you need in the Roulette division. After all, you're entering a match with no prep time, so you have to be able to think on your feet. You think racing a skateboard towards a ramp prepares you for something like that?

Well, you're wrong. It doesn't prepare you at all.

I hope I can show you something at Climate Control, boyo. I hope I can give you some lessons in life that will stick with you the rest of your time on this planet. Maybe, by facing me, you'll end up a better wrestler in the long run. Or maybe you'll end up with a concussion because the rule book is thrown out the window. Hey, anything's possible, in this kind of atmosphere.

Still, Roddy, for all my insults, I AM kind of looking forward to this one. I think you'd be one who could hang with me in the speed and agility department, and that could give me a true test once we enter the squared circle... assuming that's where the match takes place. I always like challenging myself, and I hate being disappointed. At any event I'm competing, I want to have the best match of the night, every time. If that doesn't happen? It's because my opponent came in unprepared for the contest. Don't be that man, Rod.

Give me the fight that I crave. Live up to your supposed gymnastic roots. But don't lean on them too heavily. I see too many cartwheels, I'm going to start considering dislocating a knee or two.

Athletic flips are fine, just keep them at a minimum. Ain't nobody going to be judging you except for the fans, and their opinions shouldn't drive you. Also, leave the tights at home. Wrestle like a man, okay? Coveralls are fine, though.

Overall, Roddy, I want to have the crowd stunned by how quickly we're maneuvering through the ropes, once again talking about how great the Roulette Championship is. I want this to be the match they're looking forward to, rather than any other title match on the card. And I need you to pull your weight. You got that, kid? You going to be able to handle the pressure and stay with me?

Or will I be too fast for you? Guess we'll see your speed when you're taking the Plunge...


~The video comes back showing us at the Cattleman's Ball, a very fancy event clearly at one of the top hotels in Dallas. The shot shows us Peter Vaughn mingling with a couple of wealthy Texans, joking with them about his recent exploits over seas.~

Peter Vaughn: And then I worked a deal to purchase all of his goats, and have them managed overseas to increase my profits!

~The two men laugh heartily, with one shaking his head at the thought.~

Rich Man: So technically you're a goat farmer! That's hilarious! I tell you what, Vern, we need to consider diversifying like that ourselves!

~The other man nods, even as Vaughn takes a drink of the champagne, his face twitching slightly at the taste. Vaughn's always been a beer man, but you drink what's free at an event like this.~

Rich Man: You've got a good head on your shoulders, son! We really should talk some business after tonight's festivities!

Peter Vaughn: I'm all for it, sir. Right now, though, I need a refill. We'll talk later!

~The man laughs and nods, as Vaughn takes his champagne glass and walks away, quickly putting it on a passing tray. He doesn't grab another one, instead heading off to the side, where he sees Sadie quietly sitting, looking down. Vaughn heads over to her, a smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: You were right, Sadie. It's a pain talking to some of these bigwigs, but it'll be worth it in the end, I think. How are you enjoying the event? Tried the salmon yet? It was a little salty for me...

Sadie Anderson: I... I'm sorry, I need to get some air. Excuse me.

~Sadie gets up, hurrying past Vaughn, who raises an eyebrow, confused. He watches her go out to a balcony, with his instincts telling him to follow her. He stops for a second, though, to discuss something quickly with a nearby waiter, before heading out there. Sadie is turned away from him, looking out over the city, as he joins her.~

Peter Vaughn: ... What's going on, Sadie? You seem... unhappy. Coming here was your idea, right?

Sadie Anderson: ...

~Sadie stays quiet, just staring outwards, with Vaughn trying to figure it all out. But his strength is in the ring, not in understanding relationships. He takes a deep breath, trying again.~

Peter Vaughn: Was it me, Sadie? Did I... do something?

~After a moment, Sadie finally turns to face him.~

Sadie Anderson: I suppose it's the fact that you DIDN'T do something... but I shouldn't blame you for that. You're just doing what you always do. You're being... you.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I've never been good at being anyone else...

Sadie Anderson: I just think I got my hopes up. You finally asked me to come with you. You wanted me here. But then... you've barely hung out with me tonight. You've just been out there talking with others...

Peter Vaughn: I... I thought that's what you wanted me to do? For the ranch?

Sadie Anderson: I guess I wanted it to be about me as well... your 'date'...

~Vaughn doesn't know quite how to take this, turning to stare out at the city he's lived most of his adult life. But when he finally speaks, he seems to finally understand.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm not... good at that kind of stuff, Sadie. You know that. I miss signs. I don't make connections. But... I DID enjoy coming out here with you. I was glad we were here. All I can say, Sadie, is that... I'm trying. And I'll learn from this. And maybe, the next time we go out... I'll learn from this, and stay by you more.

Sadie Anderson: You... you want to go out again? With me?

Peter Vaughn: Why not? It hasn't been that bad, has it?

~The waiter comes out onto the balcony, this time carrying a couple of Yellow Rose beers. He brings them over, with both Sadie and Peter taking them. Sadie can't help but smile.~

Sadie Anderson: No. No, it hasn't been that bad...

~The two take a drink together, before both turn to look out at Dallas once more. It's a peaceful night out there, one seemingly full of possibilities. We slowly fade out.~

19
Supercard Archives / Burying The Competition, P2
« on: August 24, 2023, 06:05:33 PM »
~As the shot comes up, we get an aerial view from a drone of the recently refurbished lot that once held an abandoned warehouse. An incredible amount of work has been done on this location, removing all the debris and adding in grass, trees, a brick path, and what appears to be a pavilion in the center of the lot. It truly stands out, considering that there are still buildings located on either side of the lot. The drone heads lower, focusing on the still-functional parking area outside of the lot, where we see our usual cameraman piloting the drone via remote. He catches it upon his return, looking into the lens for a few seconds, a rare occurrence for us.!

Cameraman: Didn't see him once. Hmmm.

~The cameraman turns and puts the drone away inside the van, making sure it's facing out so we can still see him as he reaches around and gets his usual gear, popping it up on his shoulder. The feed immediately shifts to the hand-held camera, as the cameraman shuts the van door, making sure that it's locked. There is some expensive equipment in there, after all, given to him by Sin City Wrestling. Losing it would be a pretty severe shot to his paycheck, that's for sure. He turns and walks towards the lot, taking in the newly-hoisted entrance gate. It's not locked, so the cameraman swings it open and steps inside, looking around.~

Cameraman: Vaughn? You in here?

~The cameraman pans around in confusion, as it's never been hard to track down Vaughn before. After a few moments, we can hear the cameraman triggering his cell phone.~

Cameraman: Hey, I'm here at the site at the usual time, but I don't know where Peter Vaughn is. No, he didn't leave me any messages. Have you heard from him recently? ... That's strange. Yes, I know I'm supposed to get some content from him... wait, how is it MY fault if he's not here? Well, can't we just use old footage that never aired? ... No, you're right. Okay. OKAY! I'll look around some more. Hey, I'm not getting blamed for... hello?

~The phone call clearly disconnected, and not on the cameraman's end, either. A few choice curse words are conveniently bleeped out, although you DO hear something about someone's mother. After that, the cameraman starts into the lot, opting to take the brick path that Vaughn recently got laid down.~

Cameraman: You better be in here somewhere, Vaughn... or you'd better have a good reason for no-showing me...

~The cameraman moves off, heading down the red-bricked road, with no intentions of finding a scarecrow, a tin man, or a cowardly lion. He just wants a champion. We fade out, with the question left for everyone to ponder: where is Peter Vaughn?~


~After the quick cutaway, we find ourselves... seemingly in the backstage area of an arena, from the looks of things. It's hard to differentiate exactly which one, as Sin City has made the journey to so many over the years. They all tend to blend together over time. The picture moves along the hallway, making its way around a corner to the right, where we see a very familiar individual standing with his back against the wall. Mac Bane, the former SCW World Heavyweight Champion, takes a long drink from one of his favorite beverages, letting out a satisfied sigh right afterwards. The sound of footsteps reaches his ears, causing Bane to push off the wall and straighten up, turning to his left. That's where he comes face-to-face with the current SCW Roulette Champion, Peter Vaughn.~

Mac Bane: Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Mac.

~The two men consider each other, both in friendly and competitive ways. They've fought multiple times for titles before, neither backing down from the challenge, but they've also allied up on more than one occasion, including most recently in the Saviors of SCW. After a few seconds, Bane gives Vaughn a nod.~

Mac Bane: How have you been doing, Pete?

Peter Vaughn: Could be better, could be worse. I've had a lot of stuff weighing me down lately, keeping me grounded. I'm trying to work through some solutions, but it's been... difficult.

Mac Bane: Talk to me. Maybe I can help.

~Vaughn puts a hand on the wall, taking a moment to think things through.~

Peter Vaughn: I think it has to do with my future in SCW, Mac. You know I joined this company mainly as a favor for you. I also thought I'd get a match with Matt Knox, but that never happened. Since then, I seem to have gotten into a rut. The only competition that keeps coming for me is the guys who should be thinking about retirement and the guys still shaking off their training diapers.

Mac Bane: And you've shown them how good you are by keeping that Roulette Championship.

~Bane points down at Vaughn's title, which is around his waist. Strange, as it wasn't there before... or maybe it was, and we just didn't notice it. Either way, Vaughn pats it, showing his love for the gold.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm proud of this championship, don't get me wrong. I'd love to beat Griffin Hawkins' 190-day run. I'm already at 108 days, so it's certainly possible. But I can't help but wonder, am I just treading water? Should I get more serious about moving forward towards the top of the wrestling world and aim for that World Championship, just as Goth is?

Mac Bane: You threatened by Goth, your own teammate in the Saviors?

Peter Vaughn: No, no, of course not. I respect Goth, you know that. He's done a lot in SCW, he deserves everything coming to him. I just... I feel like I need to start breaking through, you know?

~Bane nods knowingly, before stepping forward towards Vaughn, looking him dead in the eye.~

Mac Bane: You're right, Pete. You need to start pushing yourself more. You've only got a little time left.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I don't know about that, I'm still working in my prime right now...

~Bane shoves Vaughn back against the wall, surprising him.~

Mac Bane: You're going to need to focus, Pete! You need to find that intensity that made you a six-time World Champion, and you must channel that intensity into your future if you want to be the best!

Peter Vaughn: I haven't lost that, Mac, you know that...

Mac Bane: You're dreaming if you think you haven't lost something. Now get yourself up. Now.

Peter Vaughn: What do you...

Mac Bane: WAKE UP, VAUGHN!! NOW!!!

~Bane then rears back, swinging straight at Vaughn's face. He instinctively tries to duck out of the way...~


~... and wakes up, banging his head against the edge of the dark wall behind him. He winces, rubbing his head. The camera shot has changed dramatically, as we now are watching Vaughn through a night-vision shot. If you think he looks creepy in normal light, you probably won't see this as much of an improvement. Vaughn sits up, suddenly realizing that water is splashing around him. He quickly gets back to his feet.~

Peter Vaughn: Right... the underground reservoir collapsed, trapping us in here. And of COURSE it must be raining outside. Hey, old man? You still around here? Old man?

~Vaughn reaches into his pocket, feeling around, and manages to find an old lighter that the old man had given him earlier. He flicks it a few times, finally getting a flame to appear, and turns to his left. Nothing. He turns to the right... and the old man is right there, looking at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Geez! Man, why didn't you say anything?

~The man just shrugs.~

Older Man: La Muerte.

Peter Vaughn: I told you, we're NOT going to die down here! I've had too much success lately to end up a mythical disappearing act for those YouTube crime videos to talk about. Now, c'mon. I'm curious as to where, exactly, this water is coming from.

~Vaughn starts walking down the reservoir, with the old man sullenly stepping in line behind him. It's clear he's already given up hope. Vaughn, though? He's just getting started.~


You never know what can motivate you to be a survivor, an achiever... a winner.

I've had plenty of motivations push me through life. I've had the fact that I lived up poor under a single custodian father push me to fight for greatness as I got older. I've had positive reinforcement from men like The Accelerator, may he rest in peace, and negative reinforcement like my former manager, Jonathan Barrows. I've fought for respect, I've fought for money, and I've fought for power.

I must admit, though, I don't think I've ever been motivated by a Twitter post.

Sorry, an X post. Damn, I hate that name.

So, Edds, let me get this straight. You're mad at me because I said I would be lenient as the referee in your match against Jaycee? Did you want me to come in saying that if I see you put a single toe out of line, I'd disqualify you and steal away your opportunity for a championship match? Would that have made you feel better? It's not like it mattered anyway.

You should come to understand that for Roulette matches, the referee is rarely that much of a factor. Sure, there are a few styles of match where he or she will still be needed to make the count for the pinfall or decide on the submission. But for the majority of the matches I've had, the referee has just been there to raise the hand of the winner, aka me.

Now, I could have come into my position as referee and immediately attacked someone, say, yourself, and decided the winner. Then again, when special refs do maneuvers like that, they usually end up in a triple threat, so it made zero sense for me to get involved that way. Instead, I did what I said I was going to do. I didn't get too involved, I stayed lenient, and you got the victory.

If that hurts your honor with the mere thought of you bending a rule, well, you've got a lot to learn about the wrestling business.

You see, Eddie, in my career, I've done a lot of wild things to win. I've used tranquilizer guns. I've used a rigged doorway that sent 30,000 volts into my opponent. I've used duct tape to its fullest potential. I've set my opponents up and sent them spiraling down, with one awe-inspiring plan after another. But I have to admit, that hasn't rang as true in Sin City, ironically enough.

Here, Edz, I've mostly got the victories by simply... winning the match. Odds are, that's all I'm going to need for a wet behind the ears rookie like you, too.

I mean, I'll do what's allowed, depending on the match type that's chosen. If there are no rules, there are none to break. It's not like I have any personal code of honor holding me back from doing what needs to be done... like certain other wrestlers. So do you have it in you, I wonder, Eds? To take that step into the unknown, and take the fight to me with anything and everything at your disposal?

Or will your motivation to be honorable supersede your motivation to be a winner?

Time will tell, I suppose.


~Lighter in hand, Vaughn moves down the side of the wall, checking regularly for any streams of water. He begins to find them, poking through vents hidden in the decorations left behind by the Mayans. It shouldn't be that big a surprise that some of the mouths on the wall are the ones where the vents are.~

Peter Vaughn: Nobody can resist a vomiting water sight gag, I suppose.

~The water's beginning to rise in the reservoir, as it's doing exactly what it's intended to do: store water for the future needs of a civilization. It's the main reason Vaughn came here, as he wanted to see the techniques used, and get a feel for what would work for him back on his PMV Ranch in Texas. Unfortunately, after a cave-in, Vaughn has been getting a much closer view of the workings of the reservoir than he was ever wanting. He studies the carvings on the wall, considering them more closely.~

Peter Vaughn: Interesting, how they loop the figures around the way they do. Could that mean something, old-timer? Do you think this could signal some way for us to get out of here?

~Vaughn looks back at the older man, who is just shaking his head.~

Older Man: Voy a morir aquí abajo con este americano ignorante. Ni siquiera me pagó.

~The older man wanders off, stepping through the rising water, as Vaughn glares at him.~

Peter Vaughn: I caught that part. "Ignorant American", indeed. YOU'RE the one who said we could go here!!

~There's no response, as the man keeps moving away, apparently not wanting to die next to the man he blames for this. Annoyed, Vaughn turns back to the carvings.~

Peter Vaughn: Fine. You go your way, I'll go mine. There's got to be a back door. There's always a back door in these places. I just have to figure it out. Let's see...

~Vaughn begins tracing his hand around the seams, checking for any levers or pulleys. Suddenly, though, he looks back at the seams.~

Peter Vaughn: Wait... why are there grooves here? It's not just a pattern, is it?

~He readjusts his one hand in the seam, trying to see if the circular pattern there moves. It does, just a touch. Vaughn grins, shifting his other hand over to help... only to have the lighter go out. There are several moments of frantic sparks, before Vaughn manages to get the lighter going again. He breathes a sigh of relief, before considering his options.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to need some strength to get this twister moving... but I can't do it in the dark. Damn it. Hey, old-timer! OLD-TIMER!! Get back over here, I need your help!

~The only sound is a muttered Spanish curse word in the distance. Vaughn answers with one of his own.~

Peter Vaughn: Son of a bitch... I knew I needed to follow through on that Babbel learning course Sadie wanted me to take...

~With no other choice, Vaughn starts to push through the water after the old-timer, trying to make sure to keep the lighter above the streams still coming in. It must be some storm outside. We cut away once again.~


~The shot switches to a window frame back in Texas. In a strange coincidence, it also appears to be raining there, as Sadie Anderson, Vaughn's #1 ranch hand (and secret flame) stares outwards at the weather. She's holding her cell phone, waiting, but the ringing just continues on the other end for a few more times before ending in a disconnect, as the satellite phone user cannot be reached. She hangs up, shaking her head.~

Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter. You were supposed to have checked in by now. I know you trust me to take care of everything here, but I'd still like your sign-off before I act...

~Sadie turns away from the window, looking over at her laptop, where she's got a series of order forms lined up, ready to be sent off. She steps up to them, reading them over one more time.~

Sadie Anderson: Feed for the horses, check. Feed for the chickens, check. Feed for the ranch hands... hmmm, maybe I'd better order a few more sandwich bundles, the way these guys eat.

~She makes the necessary corrections, then studies everything once more. She glances over at the cell phone, then shrugs.~

Sadie Anderson: If he complains about the expenses, I'll tell him he should have called me back.

~Sadie quickly presses Send on each of the invoices, shooting them off to be filled. The PMV Ranch will get the supplies it needs to keep running. Thankfully, Sadie has full access to Vaughn's bank account, basically the only one with that privilege. She still feels guilty, though, as she jumps when her cell phone suddenly rings.~

Sadie Anderson: Oh, NOW he calls back!

~Mumbling to herself about the necessity of her actions, she steps over and answers the call, noting the different country code.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello, Peter? Oh, sorry. This is Sadie, yes. Oh, you're the guide who was taking Vaughn to... wait, what? WHAT?? He's trapped?? With your father??

~Sadie looks extremely concerned, pacing in front of her desk as she thinks things over.~

Sadie Anderson: Have you gotten anyone to go out there yet and try and dig them out? Okay, look, I know a wrestling organization that's there, they've got some pretty strong guys and gals who can probably help. Let me get in touch with Sin City and get back to you. If you can find someone else with equipment that can reach there... no, I realize it's pretty far from the main city. We'll find a way. This number works to call you? Okay, I'll call you back.

~The phone hangs up, with Sadie hurrying over to her computer to find the contact information for various members of the Saviors, knowing that one of them will be able to help, in some way or fashion. As she searches, she curses to herself.~

Sadie Anderson: Damn it, Peter, I told you this wasn't worth it!

~As Sadie begins to work the phone calls, we jump away again.~


Isn't it great to have someone worried about you?

I guess your family probably fulfills that need for you, Edds. You're lucky in that regard. I'm estranged from my mother. My father is dead. I rarely talk to my half-sister, and as for my half-brother, well, I guess I'm lucky he's still alive at this point. With no signs of a family of my own coming in the future, I'm what you would probably call a loner.

I guess, in some ways, I envy you for that, Eddie.

I mean, yeah, you need to release the strings binding you to them a little, work on establishing your own identity separate from the Lyons estate. But at least you've got them to back you up. Me? I have the Saviors, and I have my ranch. Now, will the Saviors play a part at the pay-per-view, do you think? Could Mac or the Troll make an appearance and shake things up?

Yeah, probably not. They haven't had much to do with my Roulette Title reign to this point, I don't see them starting now.

But the truth is, I haven't needed them to continue my winning ways, Eddy. I don't have to lean on them for major support, or cry to them on the phone when someone gives me a boo-boo. Okay, I'm mocking you a little, but I can't help it. I see your potential, Eds, really, I do, but if you keep sticking to your family's notions of honor before glory, well, you may never reach the glory section. You may always be stranded down there as the lesser Lyon, and that would suck.

But if you could find a way to loosen those restrictions and fight me with everything available, hey, you might still become something great in Sin City. And you see, that's what you should see as being on the line: your future. Sure, you may think that you have nothing to lose here, and it's true, people have rebounded from getting their ass kicked by the Mechanic, no question. But there have also been some wrestlers who were touted as the future who never recovered from the 'humiliation' of losing to a former janitor.

You'd think enough of them had fallen by now that it'd be a badge of honor, but I still hear people say a loss to me is a disgrace. Funny, huh?

So yes, Lyonel, you have a lot to lose at Violent Conduct. You could lose the respect you've earned. You could lose your "Unbreakable" status. You could lose the feeling in your fingers and toes if I end up hitting you just right. Paralysis is never out of the question, especially with some of the maneuvers I'm known to do.  Let's see, what else? You'd lose a portion of your paycheck, taking the defeat, but then, you seem like a trust-fund baby, so that may not bother you that much.

Still, though, whether you want to admit it or not, you truly do have a lot on the line for our match. If you come in acting like it doesn't matter if you lose... well, you may end up badly regretting it once I'm done with you. Because if I decide your heart isn't in our fight, and you're just there to "put in an appearance", well, I may just have to embarrass you. I might have to wash the mat with your face, slap the hell out of that 'pretty' face of yours, and maybe cut off some that beard on your chinny-chin chin.

You look like you could use a shave.

But it's all about how I'm feeling that night, Edds. I could keep it on the up-and-up, and we have ourselves a hell of a fight that threatens to steal the show. Or I could make it a mockery of your entire career.

Think your family is going to be watching, worried for you?


~The picture comes back inside the reservoir, where the rainwater appears to still be rising. Vaughn, though, has more important things on his mind, dragging a weakly-fighting old man back down the short corrider where the chamber is.~

Peter Vaughn: Stop struggling!! This could be our way out, and I need your help!!

Older Man: ¡Me va a ahogar! ¡Demonio! ¡El esta loco!

~The older man tries to break away again, but Vaughn just shoves him hard against the wall, pinning him there. He then holds him with one hand, before bringing up the lighter in his other hand, catching the man's eyes. Vaughn waves it in front of him, with the man wincing, expecting to be burned. But Vaughn just puts it into the man's hand, then points at the wall.~

Peter Vaughn: You hold! I'll lift! Got it?

~While not looking convinced, the older man does seem a little more confident with the flickering lighter in his hand. He lifts it up, trying to figure out what Vaughn has in mind. Vaughn, though, doesn't wait. He reaches down and starts working around the grooves once again, trying to get them rotating in the right direction. After a few stubborn seconds, it begins to move, with it creaking as Vaughn pushes the circle around. Confused, the older man steps in a little closer... and then his eyes widen, as he realizes what's about to happen.~

Older Man: ¡Espera, idiota! Tú vas a...

~Before anything else can be said, Vaughn manages to turn the grooves enough that a portion of them open up, popping loose. Unfortunately, it's less like a door and more like a seal, as the portion flies backwards, knocking Vaughn into the water... as a wave comes flooding through the now-opened passageway! The older man shouts in terror at the increase in water flow, raising them up closer to the ceiling now. Vaughn breaks the surface, coughing for a second before taking everything in. We're back to night vision, since the lighter was put out by the flood, but Vaughn can at least make out the opening.~

Peter Vaughn: Well... that explains how there's so much water. Extra tunnels, right?

~The older man doesn't say anything, probably thinking about Death once more. He starts to swim away, but Vaughn grabs him, dragging him towards the opening.~

Peter Vaughn: Sorry, old-timer, but I'd probably face legal charges if I let you drown here, and I've got a career to worry about. This may not be ideal, but this new tunnel goes upwards, which is what we're needing. Let's see where it goes!

~They begin climbing up the tunnel, which appears to be in very poor shape. It was clearly less maintained than the original reservoir. Still, the two seem to be making progress, pulling themselves up, even as the passage continues to get narrower and narrower...~


It's too bad there was already a swimming pool match recently. I'm getting myself plenty of practice in the water.

But then, that's what it is all about, isn't it, Lyons? "Practice". As in, you need more of it to be a truly great wrestler. Nobody can step right into the middle of the three-ring circus and take it over on the first day. You have to start out slow, probably as one of the clowns. Or maybe one of the sweepers after the show, because the animals are always leaving some fecal matter behind.

You have to work your way up the ladder. You can't take shortcuts. You can't fly to the top, because as Icarus showed, you can get burned that way.

So you may have earned this title shot, Edds, and you may think that this is going to be your big first moment, but I'm going to be doing you a favor. I'm going to kick you back down the steps, let you get a taste of defeat, and see how it sits with you. We'll see if a man from the famous Lyons Den is able to cope with the loss or not. Because you will take losses, my friend, oh yes, you will take losses.

It happens to the best of us, and you're not in that category yet.

Now, maybe in the future, when I'm ready to take my next leap upwards, you'll get another shot at this championship. Maybe getting your face stomped in by me now will lead to you being a better contender in the future, knowing more about what's needed to get the victory. Hey, maybe you'll even thank me in the long run.

Doubtful, I know, but there's still a chance.

Just take what lessons you can from this, Edz. Try and think of it as a growing experience, even if it's painful. Even if you find yourself wanting to tap out and run away. Hang in there, kitty cat. You'll survive, I'm fairly sure.

Nobody's died yet from taking the Plunge.

Good luck, boyo. You're going to need it.


~We now find ourselves outside in the jungle area, nearby where the collapse originally happened. We can hear noise through the rainstorm, coming closer, as flashlights can be seen. A vehicle manages to push through the trees, a smaller crane with a hook added on for effect. Walking behind it, we can see the younger man from earlier, nervously leading a small crew of men towards the collapsed reservoir. They get close, with the younger man pointing out where it happened. A leader steps forward, pointing that way. He speaks in a slightly English accent, showing he's a foreigner to these lands.~

Leader: Okay, men, we need to try and dig our way down. Hopefully this doesn't go too far in... because if it does, well, the odds are low that we'll find anyone alive. So lets get to work!

~As the men start to step forward, ready to work, there's a sudden whistling noise over from the right. The group turns, looking around, to see a hand sticking up out of the ground! It waves back and forth, getting their attention.~

Leader: What on earth??

~The leader hurries forward, along with the younger man. They pull away some rocks, finding a small vent in the ground designed to collect the rainwater. Inside, staring out at them, we can see Peter Vaughn. He smiles at them.~

Peter Vaughn: Good to see you guys. Guess they called in the calvary? Well, we need...

Older Man: Mijo!

Younger Man: Papa!

~The older man shoves Vaughn out of the way, sending him falling back into the water and sliding down the tunnel some, as he reaches through to grasp his son's hand. The two share a bonding moment, each glad to see the other still alive. Vaughn, meanwhile, gets himself up and grumpily comes back up, looking around them through the narrow opening, too narrow for anyone to squeeze through.~

Peter Vaughn: Could you just open this, please? I'd like to get out of here...

Leader: Right away. Shovels, men! Everyone stand back!

~Vaughn has to pull the older man back, out of harm's way, so that the crew can work on widening the hole leading to the tunnel. After a few minutes, it's cleared out enough that both men can squeeze out, earning a cheer from the workers. They're obviously overjoyed to not only finding people alive, but finding them in record time. The leader gives Vaughn a pat on the shoulders, with Vaughn nodding his thanks to him. He then turns, handing a soggy envelope to the older man.~

Peter Vaughn: Your pay. I should probably dock you for almost killing me, but I'm a fair man.

~The older man takes the envelope, looking inside it. He then locks eyes with Vaughn. He raises three fingers.~

Peter Vaughn: You... you want triple the fee? You SAID this place was safe enough to look at!! This was all your fault!

~The older man keeps his three fingers up, even as the younger man, his son, moves in next to him to give him another hug. Seeing this, Vaughn scowls, before reaching back into his bag.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll see what I can do... damn it...

~As Vaughn searches for money, we slowly fade away, leaving the scene of the near disaster. Thankfully, everything seems to have worked out.~


~When we next come up, we're once again back inside the transformed lot somewhere in Dallas, Texas. The cameraman has continued moving, making his way towards the center of the mini-labyrinth of trees and grassy knolls. He gets to the pavilion in the center, focusing the camera on the figure sitting inside, drinking from a glass.~

Cameraman: THERE you are! I've been searching for you everywhere, Vaughn!

~Vaughn sits up, glancing over at the man, before taking another sip from his drink. It's hard to tell exactly what it is. The color could be an expensive chardonnay... or a fruit drink. Impossible to tell without tasting it. Either way, Vaughn sets it to the side before getting to his feet, doing a quick stretch.~

Peter Vaughn: You should try having to wait here for an hour with nothing else to do but drink and relax. It's boring as hell. But I'm glad you finally made it in here, my man. So, what'd you think of my little creation?

Cameraman: It looks very familiar...

Peter Vaughn: Oh, it's my own design, I assure you. I might have... borrowed from a few other places, but it's built the way I wanted it. I call it... the Garden of Betrayal. What do you think? Cool name?

~The cameraman turns, looking around in each direction, getting shots of the trees, the trellis, the paths, and the pavilion. He shakes his head in shock, amazed that he didn't see it before.~

Cameraman: Is this... from the Game of Thrones??

Peter Vaughn: Nope. It's all my idea.

Cameraman: But... the way that path leads to here...

Peter Vaughn: Similarities are coincidental. Trust me. All that you need to know is that, for the coming future, we're going to be having all of our initial interviews here... and we'll see if I can convince some other wrestlers to make the trip here as well.

Cameraman: If they're smart, they'll stay away... I've seen what happens in a place like this...

~Vaughn steps forward, staring intently at the cameraman, who backs away slightly.~

Peter Vaughn: Don't make assumptions. Now, since you're here, carry a message for me, will you? Tell that Eddie Lyons to prepare for a hell of a war. It will be a battle not seen since dragons once ruled the earth. And in the end, when I'm triumphant and keeping my seat at the head of the table, he'll need to prepare for a new blemish in his family line. In this game, he stands no chance.

Cameraman: Seriously, how did I not see the Game of Thrones references?

Peter Vaughn: That's on you, boyo. Now, be off. I've got some more contemplation to take care of.

Cameraman: ... It took me 20 minutes to get here lugging this camera.

Peter Vaughn: Leave me. I need to prepare for the battles ahead.

~Vaughn turns his back, sitting away from the cameraman, who appears to consider a Red Wedding possibility before turning and departing, grumbling all the way at the lack of footage. He turns back once more, giving us a shot of Vaughn sitting inside his newly constructed sanctuary, with his eyes shut and a smile on his face. We fade out.~


20
Supercard Archives / Burying The Competition, P1
« on: August 19, 2023, 11:13:57 PM »
~Our shot opens up on the same quiet lot that once housed a gigantic, abandoned warehouse. That building has since been torn down (in dramatic fashion), but Peter Vaughn has continued work on the site, clearing away the debris and planting both grass & trees in specific locations throughout the area. Now, as we return, we can see him in the distance, working once again. The cameraman makes his way over, following what appears to be a freshly laid brick path. He reaches near the end of it, coming up behind Vaughn, who we can see is preparing another brick for placement. He locks it into position, making sure it sticks, before looking back at the cameraman and pointing a dirty finger in his direction.~

Peter Vaughn: You were late on purpose this time, weren't you? You wanted to see more of what I'd be doing today... while not helping any yourself. I get it. You're not interested in extra labor. Just "doing your job" or whatever. It's fine. Fine.

~It doesn't seem "fine" to Vaughn, but the cameraman doesn't argue. He just steps to the side, onto the grass, to get a better shot of Vaughn's path that he's building. It's really rather intricate, using different colored bricks to make a captivating pattern. It's still not clear, though, why Vaughn is going to all this trouble, as he's never explained the work he's been doing. Nor does it seem like he's going to do it now, as he gets up and splashes some water on his hands, cleaning them.~

Peter Vaughn: Construction is always messy work. But hey, the more you put in, the better things come out, right? I mean, take my Sin City career. I've put a lot into it at this point. I arrived here in February, nearly half a year ago, to help my man Mac Bane win a championship. I took on some of the supposed strongest guys here, wrestlers like Milo and Barnhart, and sent them packing. I went into my first SCW Pay-Per-View and got a victory over Jack Washington at Blaze of Glory XI. THAT one got people talking, didn't it?

~Vaughn smirks to himself, remembering the sensation of starting off so strongly. He then grabs another brick, pasting it up for placement in the path.~

Peter Vaughn: After that, it seemed like the sky was the limit. I went on to win the Roulette Championship at Into The Void XII, and there seemed to be nothing in this world that could stop me... until I lost that rematch with Washington. You'd think, since we're 1-1 against each other, there'd be another match, but it sure felt after that one that people said "Well, clearly, THAT'S the one that matters", because I haven't heard anything about a tiebreaker between us. Instead... instead, it feels like maybe I'm stuck in a rut now.

~The smirk is gone, replaced by annoyance, as Vaughn slams down the brick into position. He's a little too forceful, as the brick cracks upon impact. Grumbling to himself, Vaughn quickly pops it back out before it can set, tossing it to the side and going for another brick.~

Peter Vaughn: To be sure, I've taken the Roulette Championship to new heights. People are damn excited to see this belt defended whenever possible. But the higher-ups may have lost faith in me, because they first give ol' Barnhart another shot at the belt, and then pitted me against the man who lost to the Troll. He doesn't even deserve his name mentioned, to be frank, but I took him down nonetheless. I beat him expecting a major contender for my belt... and instead I get a contenders match between two lower-card guys, wanting their chance in the PPV spotlight. I've gone from Hall of Famers to the Backyard Rookies. I mean, how old's this kid Lyons? 18? 19?

~The cameraman flashes his free hand a few times, probably conveying the correct age due to Vaughn's reaction.~

Peter Vaughn: 22? Damn, that's hard to believe, but they do look younger every day, I guess. So I'm fighting the youngster with a couple of wins under his belt, defending my championship once again... and my man Goth comes back, and immediately is ahead of me in the World Title rankings. Yeah. Proud of him and all, but... well, we'll see what happens after Violent Conduct is over with.

~With a sigh, Vaughn gets another brick in place. Despite his discussion with the cameraman, he doesn't appear to have lost focus, as all of the patterns still look correct. Vaughn takes it in, figuring out his next move as he walks over to the nearby wheelbarrow, moving it further down the line. We can see, just ahead, several rounded pillars have been stacked up. They certainly look like they'll eventually form a full circle around... something. Vaughn begins to form a border to the circle, adjusting the bricks around it, as he looks back at the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: Overall, though, I won't let other people's opinions affect me. They think they can keep throwing cannon fodder my way, believing that someone, someday, will find a way to trip me up? They're willing to keep trying. I'll just keep shredding them to pieces and removing them from the board, so that they can't bother me again. I'll keep forcing the issue, with victory after victory, until they finally say... you're deserving of that World Title shot, Peter. And won't that be a glorious day in the sun?

~Vaughn looks upwards, grinning. Of course, it's a cloudy day today, so you really can't look towards the sun that well. But the point still stands. After a second, Vaughn looks back down, glancing at all the bricks he still needs to get laid in place today. Even for an all-star athlete, it's tiring work. He turns his gaze back to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: You know, there's really no reason that you can't be helping me with this. I could pay you. I'm supposed to get some help in an hour or so, but you're already here...

~The cameraman is already shaking his head no, eliciting a chuckle from Vaughn.~

Peter Vaughn: Knew that would be your response. Oh well, can't blame me for trying. Of course, now you'll have to wait and see what this looks like in the end. Just like Lyons will have to wait and see what it feels like to be a champion, because this belt is not leaving my waist until I say so. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a project to finish...

~Vaughn turns away from the cameraman, continuing to build his circular pattern, as the cameraman steps away. He tries to take in the whole area with a wide zoom, as if trying to figure out Vaughn's vision. It's almost on the tip of his tongue, as something definitely looks familiar about all this... but it'll have to wait until next time, as the camera feed finally gets shut off.~


~When we return to the feed, we now find ourselves staring at an entirely different field: The Great Ballcourt of Chichen Itza in the Yucatan, Mexico. It's always an impressive sight, although to hear the grunts from nearby, it doesn't seem to have made an impact on some people. The camera turns, showing us Peter Vaughn standing there, studying the area with his arms crossed.~

Peter Vaughn: What a waste of space. This area could have been used for so many projects.

~Vaughn shakes his head, before turning away towards where a tour guide is apparently explaining some of the historic aspects of the area.~

Tour Guide: ... and the goal of some of the games here would ultimately be the player earning enough points so that he could lay claim to the "Home of the Gods"! Truly an amazing reward to fight for!

Tourist: Is it true they used to decide matters of law here, deciding if a person is guilty by having them compete?

Tour Guide: Well, there are some historians who believe that is true, although it's hard to say whether it's been confirmed or not.

Tourist: And didn't they build in a version of their calendars into the gaming area? I heard you could find it if you looked hard enough...

Tour Guide: Some of the details have been lost over the generations, of course, but yes, there are ways to view the Mayan Calendar from higher up, which is an astounding achievement...

Peter Vaughn: Hey, what about them playing their sports with the severed heads of their enemies? Any truth to that one?

~Everyone turns and looks at Vaughn, who simply shrugs, not ashamed at all to ask the question. The tour guide coughs for a moment, clearly annoyed by this one coming up yet again.~

Tour Guide: No. There is categorically no evidence at all that they did that. It's a stereotype created by people wanting them to seem more savage in their stories. There were NO severed heads used.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I figured as much. It really wouldn't be practical, using a head. It's too unbalanced and shaped wrong. A ball would definitely work a lot better. Plus, there's the stickiness factor...

Tour Guide: ... Yes. Now if you'll come with me, let's head to the Temple of Jaguars. There's much more to see there.

~The tour guide quickly heads off, wanting to get his tour back on track after a momentary distraction. Vaughn, for his part, stays a little longer, considering the round structures up above, meant for the ball to be tossed through. He nods.~

Peter Vaughn: Clearly too small for a head, as well. Then again, maybe they pulled out goalposts when the heads were used. Who knows, right?

~Vaughn then turns and walks off, leaving the tour behind. He's got better things to do with his time, after all. It's doubtful the tour guide will even care that he left, after that last question. We follow Vaughn as he pulls out his satellite phone, making a quick press of the automatic dialer. There's only one person who will answer, anyway.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello? Peter, is that you?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. Just wanted to check in really quick. Things are looking good for my title defense here in Mexico. It's going to be a blast, I'm sure.

Sadie Anderson: It always seems to be with you. Well, things are looking up here at the PMV Ranch now that we've got a few extra hands working here. Are you going to be back more often once this tour is over?

Peter Vaughn: Definitely so, Sadie. I've got some ideas I want to implement. In fact, I'm going to be checking on one of those ideas this afternoon with some local guides. I'm going to get a first-hand look at something that could change our future farming needs.

Sadie Anderson: "Farming"? But... we really don't have any farming areas at the moment, just livestock...

Peter Vaughn: You always have to think towards the future, Sadie, and we've got plenty of acres to work with. If this works out, we might really give the PMV Ranch back in Texas a major leg up over our competition. After all, what if we were also raising our own food for the livestock to eat?

Sadie Anderson: I guess I see what you're talking about, Peter, but... what you're going to do today, is it dangerous?

~Vaughn hesitates, not wanting to get caught in another lie around his head ranch hand. She always seems to sniff it out. Really, she knows Vaughn better than almost anyone else in the world, not that Vaughn would ever fully notice. She certainly takes note of his silence.~

Sadie Anderson: You just make sure you come back to us in one piece, Peter, you understand?

Peter Vaughn: Of course, of course. I mean, it's only a short hike into a tropical rainforest, what could go wrong?

Sadie Anderson: A tropical what? Peter!

Peter Vaughn: Gotta go, talk to you later.

~Vaughn quickly cuts off any response, as he turns off the satellite phone and puts it back in his pack. He then walks off, waving to the two men waiting for him, as the picture cuts out.~


Does it feel good to get "ahead", Edds?

Seriously, I'm asking. I mean, you must have gone out to celebrate, right? After that victory over Jaycee MacDonald to win this title shot? I mean, you probably should be ecstatic, I'm not going to lie about it. It's a big win, earning a #1 Contendership, in any company, especially your first one.

Now, sure, a lot of people are saying that I, as the special guest referee, chose you to win, since you were the lesser threat. But I'm here to tell you that those people don't know what they're talking about. I honestly never even bothered to compare you or Mickey D over there. I called that match down the middle, because I didn't care who won. And yes, some of my counts were slower than others, but damn it, you try being a referee in a surprise pool match. It really isn't easy.

You have to slap the water JUST right to make that count. And checking to see if the shoulders are up? Damn near impossible.

So, anyways, you ended up getting the win, earning an opportunity by beating a guy who's not done much of anything in SCW. Before that, you got your debut win, beating a...  Rodrigo Afonso? I don't have a clue about that guy, either. Really, Lyons, you've been gifted a couple of easy matches to start out with, from what I can see. You haven't had that true test yet, that will determine whether you're going to be a huge superstar or a huge blundering bust for this company.

But consider that test set in stone at Violent Conduct IX.

You see, Edward, I'm basically the hottest talent in Sin City at the moment. I'm the one the top champions are ducking away from, hoping that I'll stay in my division, praying that I won't be gunning for their throats. It's only a matter of time before I slam this Roulette Championship against one of their heads, knocking their spit into the fourth row. And, well, Edds, to keep up that momentum... I'm going to have to make an example of you.

I'm actually sorry about that, believe it or not.

I know what it's like to come into a fed and want that immediate gratification, only to get denied and sent to the back of the line. It's a disappointing experience. But I'm afraid that's your future, Eddy. Well, that's after a lot of pain and suffering, too. But I have faith that you'll be able to bounce back. You won't crack after a single bludgeoning, will you, Ed? I hope not... although I HAVE ended careers before.

Never my goal, but always a milestone to add to the list.

Do you think that could happen, Eddie? Your third match in SCW, and it ends up being your last? I mean, I don't control the wheel... it makes up its own mind on how we're fighting. It could easily be something so high-risk that you end up slipping up and breaking your neck upon landing. I'm sure people would still blame me, even if it's entirely your fault. They'll certainly blame me if I'm the one who snapped you down. But I'm used to blame. I've been around for a while now.

Look, Eds, you're young. You've got... enthusiasm. I get that. You probably think that you can vault over me and be this "Unbreakable Lyon" or whatever it is you're going for. But everyone I've ever faced who has called themselves "Unbreakable", "Untouchable", or "Unstoppable"... I've beaten them all. Nobody's Unbreakable, Eds. Not even me... although, to be fair, no one's been able to break me yet, so maybe I'm wrong.

I shouldn't steal your nickname, though. I'm quite satisfied as the Mechanic.

By the way, who gave you that nickname? Alex? Vincent? Victoria? Or someone else in your famous family? I mean, I doubt you came up with it by yourself. After all, you've been riding their coattails so far, I'm sure they were willing to help you out with a name, too. And don't get me wrong: nothing wrong with using your family to get you ahead. It probably got you a nice signing bonus out of the deal, in the hopes that you'll be as great as them.

The only problem is... that's a hell of a lot of pressure, boyo.

Hope that pressure doesn't break you at Violent Conduct once I defeat you. It'd be a shame for your family to lose faith in you after only one loss. I doubt they'd turn on you and call you the "black sheep" of the family once I'm done with you, really.

But it HAS happened in the past, after all...


~We rejoin Vaughn as he's making his way through a portion of rainforest, following behind an older man in front of him. There's also a younger Mayan behind, keeping up with them while carrying a pack on his shoulder. The older man is clearing the path, moving them forward. Vaughn swats at a couple of large bugs, knocking them away.~

Peter Vaughn: So this place isn't TOO much farther, is it? I mean, I'm known for going off the beaten path, but even for me this is getting ridiculous...

Older Man: Sí, señor. Está justo a la vuelta de esta curva.

~Vaughn glances behind him at the younger man, raising an eyebrow.~

Younger Man: He says we're about there, senor.

~Vaughn nods, looking pleased. He's never been one for picking up languages, one of his rare deficiencies, when you think about it. Sure enough, just around the next curve, we find an area that has been cleared of all of the tropical elements. It looks like a section that was once used for horticulture, either for food or some other reasoning. The older man signals to the side, pointing to the place where the ground slopes downwards.~

Older Man: Lo que busca está ahí abajo, señor.

Younger Man: We go down there for what you are looking for.

Peter Vaughn: About time.

~Vaughn moves ahead of the two men, making his way forward. The older guide tells the younger man something, and he stays back, working with his pack, perhaps to prepare for their stay here. The older man then follows Vaughn as he heads down into a built passageway, dug out of the ground here. Seeing that they've lost a companion, Vaughn glances back at the entrance.~

Peter Vaughn: Don't we need him? For translation purposes, at least? Why keep him above?

Older Man: Es por su propia seguridad, señor. Su madre me mataría si dejo que lo lastimen.

Peter Vaughn: ... All I got out of that was something about his mother. Oh well. Time's a-wasting.

~Vaughn turns and quickly goes deeper and deeper inside, turning on a flashlight to shine ahead of him as soon as the sunlight is gone. He takes in the construction of the walls, noting how they've been sealed in specific ways. He appears to be taking mental notes for the future.~

Peter Vaughn: So this is what they used when groundwater was hard to come by, huh? They dug out these underground reservoirs to store their rainwater? Pretty impressive, I have to give it to them. I'll have to see if something like this would work in Texas, though.

~The older man just nods, leaving it unclear whether he understands a single word of what Vaughn is saying. He just points out a few specific spots, where vents have been created to help guide the rainwater. Vaughn nods in understanding.~

Peter Vaughn: So it would all pool up down here, where they could keep it saved up in case of droughts? I like how they built it. Of course, I'm going to have to modernize the task a bit. It wouldn't do to have to use buckets to lug all the water out when we need it. I could add in a machine or two to transfer the water to the surface with a flick of a switch. It'll be fairly easy to do, really. I'm surprised they never thought of it.

~Considering the civilization Vaughn is talking about, it's kind of a stretch to berate them for not using automatic, powered systems. But Vaughn is always one to look towards the future, and he always expects everyone else to follow the same logic as he does. He stops near one constructed pillar, checking out how much wear and tear is evident. The older man steps forward, concerned.~

Older Man: Por favor, no toque, señor. No es estable.

~Although Vaughn may not speak the language, he gets the gist of it, stepping back.~

Peter Vaughn: A little concerned with how it was built, huh? Yeah, I can see that. I'd definitely reinforce the walls with steel wire or maybe some welded wire fabric.  Of course, I want to keep it cost-effective, but then, safety still needs to be a concern. Hmmm. Something to think about. Okay, let's go ahead and go back...

~As Vaughn turns, looking back the way they had come, there is a sudden, roaring crash just ahead of them. It almost sounds like an explosion. Quickly, a wall of dust and debris flies towards the two men, who only have time to barely duck and cover before they're consumed, blocking out the light entirely. We lose sight of everything, as soon it's completely black... and now silent.~


Sometimes the future is just unpredictable, Edds.

Of course, you should know all about that, having to compete in a Poolside Brawl without any preparation. I know you borrowed those boring swim trunks from someone. Was it the Troll? No, no, too small. And they didn't look like they'd fit any of our female competitors, so I guess that narrows down the list. Not that it matters. Congrats on finding some at the last minute.

But that was just the warm-up for our match at the Pay-Per-View, Eddie.

So far, in my time as a Roulette Champion, I've fought in Staple Gun Mania, a Ladder match, Ultimate X, and a Stretcher match. It pretty much should show you that that Roulette wheel really runs the gambit between standard and insanity, meaning that we could really be doing anything at Violent Conduct. Personally, I hope it lives up to its name, and we go further into the hardcore realms, so that I could show the Sin City audience that I'm more than just a high-flyer.

The truth is, though, that no matter what the match turns out to be... I'm going to be more experienced at it than you, kid.

Being a rookie in a contest like this, well, it's rather unfair, when you think about it. You have to be able to pull on your years spent inside the squared circle and out, putting together a winning strategy on the fly. I'll be able to draw on my extensive knowledge of all sorts of contests, from Broom Closet Brawls to Hazardous Ladder No Limits to Barbed Wire Exploding C4 matches. When it comes to my career, Ed, I've really done it all.

You? You may think you're "experienced", but watching other family members doesn't count in the long run. You have to experience the pain to appreciate it. I don't care what stories or prep work they'll tell you when you call them that morning... it won't be enough to prepare you for what you're going to have to go through.

Honestly, for your sake, I hope the wheel decides to be nice and makes it a Three Falls match or something. That would at least give you a tiny chance of hope... although you pinning me once is laughable. Twice would require God's hand to come down from the heavens to smite me down.

You good enough friends with him for that? I didn't think so.

To be the Roulette Champion, you truly have to be ready for everything. And you're too wet behind the ears to be ready for a simple Ambulance match. Actually, that'd be kind of a trip, because I don't know where the ambulance would take you from here. It could end up being a long, long trip.

My point is, Lyonel, you've really bitten off more than you can chew here. You probably shouldn't have agreed to get pushed forward so quickly, making you a mincemeat sacrifice to my Roulette Title run. But it's your bed to lie in now, and you'll have to deal with the consequences... as unpredictable as those consequences might end up being.

About the only certainty? That you will be taking the Plunge.


~With everything finally settled down, we see Vaughn smacking his flashlight a few times, working to keep it lit. It finally does so, allowing us to view him a little better as he shines the light on the tunnel they previously came down... a tunnel that has now caved in completely.~

Peter Vaughn: So... welded wire fabric it is on the beams... safety first, right? *cough cough*

~Vaughn finishes clearing out some of the dust from his throat, before turning and looking around behind him, realizing that he didn't get a response.~

Peter Vaughn: Old man? Where are you?

~The light crosses the chamber back and forth, stopping on a hand being weakly raised into the air. Vaughn hurries over, finding the older man laying there, his head cut either by the debris or by how he landed against the wall. Vaughn reaches into his pocket, pulling out a long handkerchief to press against the man's wound. The older man groans, but still holds the cloth in place, as Vaughn scans around the chamber, considering their options.~

Peter Vaughn: So... you think the Mayans ever put in multiple exits to a place like this? Maybe multiple rain-collecting tunnels that we just have to track down?

~From his vantage point, Vaughn can't see any other openings. He shines back the way they came.~

Peter Vaughn: Or maybe that young friend of yours can start digging us out? I'm sure it's not... that much rock blocking the way, right?

~A few more stones fall from the top, rolling to the ground, as if to put that statement to rest.~

Peter Vaughn: At the very least... he'll go for help, right? So people will know we're here... right?

~After a few agonizing seconds, the older man finally looks up at Vaughn with grief in his eyes.~

Older Man: Es desesperado. Vamos a morir aquí abajo.

~Vaughn considers him for a few long moments.~

Peter Vaughn: Right. No idea what you said. But I'm going to assume it was something grim and unhelpful. Alright, then. I suppose it's up to me to get us out of here. I've got multiple title matches on my schedule, after all. Nobody's been able to keep me down yet, I'm certainly not going to let this damn place do it. So... where to start?

~As Vaughn turns back and forth, considering his options, the flashlight flickers again... and then goes out. We're back in complete darkness.~

Older Man: La Muerte.

Peter Vaughn: Don't even start.

~All we can hear now is Vaughn moving around, now having to search for a way out of this mess without any light to guide him... along with the quiet sobs of the older man, who now believes he has been entombed forever. We slowly fade out.~


Well... I did say to be prepared for anything. I guess I'll be putting that one to the test myself.

But don't you worry, Edz. You're not getting a cheap forfeit victory. If I have to dig my way out of here with my bare fingers, clawing my path all the way up to the surface, then that's what I'm going to do. I'll be there to fight you, Eddy. And I'll be there to end your winning streak and quickly crush the talk of you being the next great light of Sin City.

The Roulette Title stays with me.

Actually... the Roulette Title is sitting in my backpack. I figured it was a good thing to give me some extra weight, turn this hike into some good exercise. Plus, I wasn't going to leave it back at that shoddy hotel. So... I guess, either way, the Roulette Belt is staying with me.

But I'm getting out. Eventually. And I'll see you soon, Eddie. I'll see you soon.

Now where'd I put that shovel? Hmmm, wonder if the belt would work....


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