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Topics - Peter Vaughn

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Climax Control Archives / Never Celebrate Too Early...
« on: April 26, 2024, 09:59:37 PM »
~As the picture comes up, we hear the sound of sizzling, as we slowly are able to see a brown mass, bubbling up grease as it heats up. The camera slowly zooms backwards, to show us several hamburger patties, cooking away on a BBQ grill. Next to them are a group of hot dogs for those who always want a 'choice', although let's face it, grilled hot dogs never compete with grilled burgers. The camera goes back further, as a ranch hand steps in to start flipping the patties, making sure they get nice char lines on them without getting too blackened.~

Ranch Hand: Who still needs a burger? We're about ready here!

~An extremely interested teenager hurries over, probably a family member. He's not going to miss out on more free food. As the teenager is served, the camera pans around, focusing on the celebration that seems to be going on. We see a large banner proclaiming "The PMV Ranch - Now & Forever!" There are some folks dancing off to the side, enjoying the music coming through the outdoor speakers. The camera moves around to the other side, where we see Sadie Anderson looking around with an ecstatic expression. She turns, holding the hand of the man next to her, giving it a squeeze. Peter Vaughn looks at her, sighs, then nods, before getting up, carrying a beer in his other hand. He raises it and gets everyone's attention.

Peter Vaughn: Hello, everyone. Are you guys having a great time?

~There's a general cheer from the group. It tends to be an unwritten rule that ranchers work hard and party harder. Vaughn's a slight exception to that rule, but he's still doing his best to stay in the spirit of the event. He glances back at Sadie, who gives a knowing nod, before he continues.~

Peter Vaughn: I just want to thank you all again for all your hard work over the last few months. I know things looked a little bleak with the lawsuit hovering over us, trying to steal away the PMV Ranch after all of our hard work. I'm glad to say that everything has been officially cleared. We don't have to worry about Judd Harrison trying to make a play for our land anytime soon. From what I hear, he's facing some pretty serious charges regarding judge tampering...

~There are several laughs in the audience. It was through the efforts of several people that the documents were found linking Judd Harrison to Judge Trebur. The implications were obvious to the judge once he saw the paperwork, as he quickly and quietly dismissed the lawsuit that was trying to reclaim the land for its previous owners, the Raymeth family. Suffice to say, it was a very decisive victory for Peter Vaughn and his ranch.~

Peter Vaughn: I know many of you went above and beyond for this ranch. Cliff, you put yourself in harm's way, going undercover at Harrison's ranch...

Cliff Sterling: And I'll be damn happy never to see any of those goons again anytime soon!

Peter Vaughn: Sadie, you got us the connection through the Raymeth son-in-law, Anthony...

Sadie Anderson: Have you gotten him released from jail, yet? I talked to him yesterday, he wasn't sounding too good...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, ummm, I'm still working on that...

~Vaughn coughs for a moment, feeling the gaze from Sadie turn a little icier, before turning away to face everyone else.~

Peter Vaughn: And I know many of you contributed wherever you could. Like you, Mitch. I heard you took it upon yourself to go through the large garbage truck that had been to Harrison's ranch.

~A dusty-looking cowboy nods as the people around him seem to take a subconscious step away from him.~

Peter Vaughn: Sure, you didn't find anything to help us, but I applaud the initiative! That's what I want to see from everyone here at the PMV Ranch! Believe me, actions like that will be rewarded. In fact, this is the perfect time to announce what I've been planning: everyone on the PMV Ranch payroll is going to receive an extra $1,000 bonus on your next paystub!

~This gets a loud eruption of cheers from all of the ranch hands. Only Sadie looks unsettled, mouthing "Bonus??" at Vaughn, but he doesn't see (or pretends not to see) her reaction. He can afford it, after all.~

Peter Vaughn: Anyhow, you guys didn't come to hear me talk. You came to celebrate, and that's just what we're going to do all night!

~This brings on another roaring cheer.~

Peter Vaughn: ... But we'll be working again starting early tomorrow morning, so don't party TOO hard!

~The cheers turn to good-natured boos, as Vaughn smirks at them. He raises his beer.~

Peter Vaughn: To the PMV Ranch, Now & Forever!

~The toast works, with everyone raising their glasses and getting back to a good party atmosphere. Vaughn nods and turns away, walking straight over towards where the camera has been recording.~

Peter Vaughn: Enjoying yourself, friend?

~The camera moves up and down in a nod, as we hear the voice of Vaughn's intrepid cameraman, who's been with him since he came to Sin City Wrestling.~

Cameraman: I'm having a great time, actually. You know that woman over there gave me her number?

~Vaughn glances over where the cameraman indicated.~

Peter Vaughn: You mean Trish? Careful with that one, boyo. She's the one who's been breaking in the horses lately.

~Trish seems to recognize she's being talked about, as she glances over and gives the cameraman a wink. The cameraman seems to shudder for a moment before turning back to Vaughn.~

Cameraman: So how are you feeling, Mr. Vaughn? It must be good to have all your ranch legal issues in the rearview mirror, and on top of that, you won the SCW Internet Championship!

Peter Vaughn: I certainly did. Milo gave me a hell of a fight, and I'll admit, at times I wasn't sure I was going to actually pull it off. But I found a way, like I usually do. It is nice to be holding Sin City gold again.

Cameraman: Are you planning to set another record for holding an SCW championship?

Peter Vaughn: Whoa, my man, chill out. Let me get a defense or two in before we start considering something that grand. Obviously, the talent level is higher in the Internet Division compared to the Roulette. But I have no doubts that I'm going to acquit myself well as the champion over the next few months, continuing my battle upwards towards the top of the rankings.

Cameraman: And you're also starting the Blast From The Past Tournament, aren't you?

~Vaughn's smile fades slightly, as he thinks about the tournament. He slowly nods his head.~

Peter Vaughn: That's correct. Last year, this tournament was the most disappointing moment of my SCW career so far. I drafted a partner that didn't seem to care about the competition, and she was quickly pinned despite my best efforts. This year, though, at least I've got a championship-caliber partner, one who was also successful at Blaze of Glory. I'm certainly in better position than I was this time last year.

~The cameraman's been following Vaughn for almost a year and a half now, and you can't help but pick up on some cues during that time. He recognizes that Vaughn doesn't sound as enthusiastic as he should.~

Cameraman: If I can ask, Mr. Vaughn... I really thought after your speech at the PPV, you'd be coming into this with a little more enthusiasm.

Peter Vaughn: You know me too well, dude. Maybe it's time I get a new camera guy.

~The camera freezes for a moment, before Vaughn smirks over at him.~

Peter Vaughn: Nah, then I'd have to break them in again, wouldn't I? But you're right. I wanted to be extremely excited going into the first round of the tournament with Bobbie as my partner. But then we randomly got selected to face the one guy I wasn't interested in seeing in this tournament: Matthew Knox. You know, I just got through winning a war over him in TPW? He's been added to my List of the Vanquished enough lately. Honestly, he was the one guy I didn't want to see come our way, and yet he found a way to make it happen.

Cameraman: So you think Mr. Knox, what, paid off someone to get this match?

Peter Vaughn: Hell, I don't know. It's a pretty big coincidence, that's all I'll say. But even if it was just bad luck, it's not going to change the result. I'm paired with one of the best female wrestlers in SCW, and between us, Knox is going to once again feel the taste of defeat come his way. He and Kasey Vex may have had some success outside of Sin City, but they don't have it running through their veins like Bobbie and I do now. I have shed blood, sweat, & tears for the last year & a half here in SCW, and that's definitely going to give me the upper hand on ol' Knoxie.

~There's a short yell of Vaughn's name, causing him to turn. Sadie is waving him over, wanting him to talk to the two older gentlemen she's talking with. They're probably prospective clients who were invited to the party. Vaughn sighs, then looks at at the cameraman with a smile.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I've got to get back to making small talk. Not my favorite activity, but it comes with the job description. But you go and have a good time, alright?

Cameraman: Are you, uh, sure I should stick around?

~The camera glances over at Trish, who seems to be dancing with another cowboy at the moment. Vaughn laughs.~

Peter Vaughn: C'mon, man. It's a party. What could possibly go wrong?

~Anyone who's been in this sort of situation knows that you never say something like that, but Vaughn couldn't help himself. Sure enough, a man comes running around the corner, shouting wildly.~

Billy Weaver: Help!! HELP!!

Peter Vaughn: What's going on, Billy? You left the cattle gate open again?

~Vaughn says this in jest, but sobers up quickly when he sees the expression on Billy's face.~

Billy Weaver: There's fire, boss!! Two of them!! Both of the barns are up ablaze!!!

~There are gasps from some in the group, as Vaughn's eyes widen. He runs around the corner of the building, looking off to the west... where we can see black smoke rising up into the sky.~

Peter Vaughn: Everyone get moving! Now!!

~Vaughn signals, and the ranch hands all drop their plates and beers and begin running towards the burning buildings. Vaughn looks back at Sadie, who looks concerned.~

Sadie Anderson: You don't think...

~Vaughn shakes his head, furious.~

Peter Vaughn: Judd... DAMN him!!

~Vaughn then takes off, racing away, as Sadie goes to make a call to the nearby Dallas emergency line. It's unlikely they'll be able to send help in time, but the way wildfires have burned in Texas lately, the earlier notification, the better...~


Sometimes you just can't relax without something else happening.

I mean, look at the current situation in Sin City. I win myself another championship. I'm riding high with the Bombshell Roulette Champion, Bobbie Dahl, getting named as my partner in the tournament. And who steps out of the shadows to try to ruin things once again? The Rickety Raven Matthew Knox. Y'know, Knoxie, something tells me you joined up with this tournament just for the chance to get another shot at me. I really can't understand why.

Some people just like the aggravation, I suppose.

I mean, I've had some persistent enemies wanting to fight me. I've fought Chris Page multiple times. Milo and I keep going at it here in Sin City. But you're the only one who won't let things go, Knucklex. Let's go over some of our recent history, shall we? You attacked me in Thunder Pro Wrestling, wanting to destroy me in 2022. I beat you. Then you returned in 2023, again wanting to take me down from the top spot. I turned El Diablo Blanco against you. We crushed you in a six-man match. My team then annihilated yours at War Games. And sure, you did manage one pin on me through wild circumstances, but I got that victory back at the Denzel Porter Invitational, regaining my International Title.

By my math, that puts me around 5-1 over you in recent years. Course, I know you, Knoxie. You like to claim that "none of those wins counts" and only claim that one win you got as the legitimate one. Personally, I think it's a little cowardly of you not to accept those results, but that's just me. But let's go back to the most important point, which happened at Sin City's Inception VI.

Do you remember that one, Matt? It was at the beginning of 2023, if that helps.

That was the match where you were taking on Mac Bane, Ken Davison, and Jack Washington for the SCW Heavyweight Title. That night, Matt? That was the only time I've come hunting for YOU. You see, Mac and his manager at the time, Chris Page, wanted me there, and I decided that you had been saying so much trash about my title reigns that I would show up and make you pay. I clocked you with that chair, and got to watch as Mac pinned you to win the championship. I fully expected you to go on the warpath like you always do, blaming me for everything.

How could I ever expect you to just... leave?

Sure, we would fight elsewhere. But I never forgot the fact that you decided it wasn't worth it in Sin City with me here. Maybe that's the reason I've stayed here since then. I mean, you're the reason I've been here, Knoxie. I would have never joined Sin City if you hadn't been a part of it. In a way, I guess I owe you for that, as since then, I've broken the record for holding the SCW Roulette Title for the longest time at 288 days, and I've won the SCW Internet Championship as well.

That's two title reigns I wouldn't have had without you.

So... thanks?

But that's not going to change my actions in this tournament, Knux. Because I know what you're up to. You know what my Achilles' heel is: the tag-team division. I have won World Titles all across this planet, but I've never been able to claim a tag-team championship anywhere, no matter who I partner up with. I figure that's the TRUE reason you signed up for this, because you know it increases your odds against me... apparently substantially.

I can't explain it, really. I compete hard in tag-team competition, bringing everything I've got to the table. But my teammates... for some reason, many of them just haven't shown up. And I know what you're going to say: the law of averages says if it keeps happening, it's something on my side, and I can't entirely disagree. But only to an extent, because I'm still one of the greatest wrestlers competing in the world today. I wouldn't have all of these championships if I wasn't.

But tag-teams haven't been in my skill-set... until now.

I've made 2024 the year that I finally make waves in the partners division. I've been competing in more tag-team contests than ever before, honing my craft. And this year, unlike 2023, I have a partner who lives up to my talents. Bobbie Dahl has held the Bombshell Roulette Title since December, and she shows no signs of giving it up anytime soon. She's proven herself to be one of the upcoming stars, and I have no doubt that she'll use this success to propel herself up the Bombshell ladder all the way to the very top.

Hell, I'll probably help her if needed, now that she's my ally.

I've seen Bobbie in action. I've competed on shows with her, getting to see her in action up close and personal. I feel like our Sin City roots are going to give us an extreme edge in the competition. But you, Matthew? What do you know about Kasey Vex? Have you guys ever been in the same federation together? It doesn't seem likely, but then again, you do tend to show up everywhere, so it's possible. You guys just don't have the same connection as Bobbie and I do.

Not that it matters to me on that front. I really don't see much need for me to tag out once I'm in there.

As I've already stated, I know you, Knoxie. I know what makes you tick. I know what gets under your skin. And I'm going to do everything I can to throw off your game and get the pin on you, because nothing will rub salt into the wound more than me pinning you once again. And I'm sure you'll claim I cheated once more, and hey, anything's possible.

I've proven I can do anything to win in the past. I'll keep proving it in the future.

Because winning is what matters, Knoxie.

Winning is what matters.


~We go back to the ranch, where chaos reigns. We see one of the large barns used to store supplies up in flames, flickering high into the night. The ranchers have gotten together, forming a bucket brigade from where the water pumps are, quickly transferring bucket after bucket down the line towards the fire. The water is having an effect... just not enough of one. Sadie comes running up, looking things over and instantly realizing they're in trouble.~

Sadie Anderson: The fire department in Dallas said they're sending units, but it'll be at least 30-40 minutes. Wait... where's Peter?

Cliff Sterling: You got me! He ordered us to line up and start trying to put the fire out, but then he ran off!

~There are some grumbles from the ranch hands, as they keep working, trying to make a dent in the inferno. Another group is working on the other barn, but it's slow going there as well.~

Sadie Anderson: It's not like Peter to run away. He must have something else in...

~Suddenly, there's the sound of approaching hooves. Sadie turns, seeing Vaughn riding up on a carriage led by two horses. Surprised, she steps out of the way, as Vaughn pulls up.~

Sadie Anderson: What on Earth?

Peter Vaughn: No time, Sadie. Cliff, Trent, get over here and put these on!

~Vaughn jumps to the back of the small carriage, where several backpacks can be seen, laying there. Cliff and Trent hurry over, following orders, and grab at the strange packs. They look them over, confused, realizing how heavy they are. Vaughn quickly flips a switch on each of them.~

Peter Vaughn: There you go, boys. Packs of my own design. They'll help you put out the fire.

~Both Cliff and Trent look nervous, as some of Vaughn's "inventions" haven't worked out as expected. But Cliff trusts him, so he moves first, heading towards the fire and pressing the button, aiming the gun that way. He expects a jet of water, but instead feels a bit of suction as the pack goes off. He moves closer to the fire, realizing that it's taking out the oxygen around the flames, helping to reduce it. Trent, seeing this, joins in, and the two work on battling the flames. Meanwhile, Vaughn takes the other packs over to the second barn, donning one himself to work on it.~

Peter Vaughn: Press the blue button to cut out suction and fire off the fluoroprotein. Use it sparingly, though, each pack only has a small amount!

~Vaughn steps up, spraying the foamy substance forward on a particularly aggressive burning spot. It goes out almost instantly. The crew works hard, using everything available to them, and soon it appears they've been successful. The flames are down to smoking cinders at this point. Vaughn hands over his pack to another ranch hand and walks over to Sadie.~

Sadie Anderson: The fire department will be here soon, not that they're needed. You really should patent those devices, they really work!

~Vaughn shrugs off the praise, still steaming.~

Peter Vaughn: This was all the work of Judd Harrison.

Sadie Anderson: We don't know that for sure...

Peter Vaughn: He was furious when we countered his schemes. His legal way of taking my ranch from me didn't work, so he's trying to burn it down around me! I'll show him. I'll dynamite his entire...

Sadie Anderson: You will do NO SUCH THING, Peter Vaughn!!

~Vaughn stops, surprised at the strictness in his fiancé's tone. He turns back, his eyes narrowed as Sadie steps up to him, showing no fear of his temper.~

Sadie Anderson: If we can find proof that it was Judd, we'll make him pay. I swear it. But for right now, we need to make sure everything's under control here. And you're the man in charge. So don't be running off half-cocked. Be the leader these guys need!

Peter Vaughn: Sadie... I...

~Vaughn steps towards Sadie, trying to think things through. She stares back at him, resilient as ever. The two lean towards each other. That's when the gunshot rings out.~


Let's talk about reliability in stressful situations.

I know that I can trust Bobbie Dahl, knowing her the way I do. Maybe we've never wrestled in the squared circle together, but I've talked with her before, and I have a good read on her personality in the ring. I feel like when the going gets tough, Bobbie is going to tear through it like nobody's business. She'll also have The Mechanic backing her up the entire way.

Sure, I'm not exactly known for my trustworthiness, but I have a lot riding on this tournament. That makes me ultra-focused on making sure that Bobbie is successful on her side of things. I don't want to have to try and win the whole match myself, and having a partner who can stand strong in a championship-caliber contest will definitely help greatly with that. Bobbie is a top find, and I'm feeling extremely fortunate to have her on my side.

Do you feel the same, Kasey? What about you, Knoxie?

If I were Kasey, I wouldn't be feeling that secure right now. Can she really trust Knox to back her up? Yes, Knox has been willing to support some people, like Amber, but he's also been a rough partner for other wrestlers, if he doesn't think they're performing well enough. Doesn't he seem like the sort that would wave his hands in the air and walk off away from the ring, leaving Kasey all on her own?

I mean, that wouldn't change much in this contest, since it's not like I can tag in to face her. But it still doesn't make for a good partner.

Maybe I'm wrong about Knoxie. Maybe he won't walk off in the middle of the contest, or even afterwards. But when you're in a match for only one reason, the rest of the motivation is lost to you. Do you really think, Kasey, that if you guys make it past Bobbie & I, Knox will still be invested? You might have an anchor around your waist the rest of the tournament.

Of course, I'm planning for you guys to sink in the first round, right to the bottom. So that shouldn't matter either way.

Either Bobbie is going to bomb Kasey, eliminating her from the contest, or I'm going to once again take Mattie for the Plunge. There are no other outcomes I'm going to allow. I will do anything and everything I can to make sure my team comes out victorious, teaming with Bobbie as if we are future tag-team champions... which we can be.

While Matt and Kasey will just be... strangers without a connection, falling freely out of the first round.

Back to the singles ranks you two go. See you elsewhere, Mattie.


~A couple more gunshots ring out, as Vaughn tackles Sadie to the ground. The two roll to cover, with Vaughn getting himself upright. He looks out in the distance, as other ranch hands run for cover. The flash of light tells him exactly where the shots are coming from. He looks back the other direction, and a wave of shock crosses his face.~

Sadie Anderson: Ugh...

Peter Vaughn: Sadie... are you alright?

~Vaughn turns and kneels over Sadie, who is working to get up. She's holding her side.~

Sadie Anderson: I'm fine, although I know how Dak Prescott feels when he gets sacked. You really nailed me. But... thanks.

~Vaughn looks her over one more time, then turns, glaring out past the ruins of the barn.~

Peter Vaughn: That does it. Judd's gone too far.

Sadie Anderson: We don't know that, Peter. Police are coming with the fire department. They should be here any minute. Let's just stay down and...

Peter Vaughn: Not a chance. He's got to pay for injuring those I love...

Sadie Anderson: Peter...

~Sadie reaches out a hand to her fiancé, touching him on the arm. Vaughn, meanwhile, is looking back the other direction... where we can see that Vaughn's truck, Gabriella, is sitting. She has two gunshot holes in her windows. Vaughn, seeing red, suddenly breaks away from Sadie and runs for the carriage, jumping on board and spurring the horses forward.~

Sadie Anderson: Peter, wait!!!

~The horses obediently charge forward, well-trained. They don't seem bothered with gunfire, which is a benefit for ranchers. The shooting momentarily stops, as the shooter is probably incredulous that Vaughn is charging them with a horse & carriage. Another shot finally goes off, but it's wide, as Vaughn gets close enough to leap off the carriage and fly into them. There's a brief fight in the distance, as Sadie begins to head that way. Cliff runs up, tossing her a shotgun.~

[font color=orange]Cliff Sterling: Glad the boss finally gave me the safe combination. Let's get over there![/color]

~They both run over, armed, to find Vaughn... on top of the squirming man, holding him down with a crossface submission.~

Man: Ow!! OWWW!!! Let go of me!!!

Peter Vaughn: You shot her... I should break your arm...

Man: Aggghhhh!!!!

Sadie Anderson: Peter, it's okay!! I'm fine! Just let him up!!

~Vaughn reluctantly releases the hold, getting up and dragging the man with him, so that Sadie and Cliff can get a good look at him.~

Cliff Sterling: Oh, damn...

Sadie Anderson: Augustus Raymeth??

~Augustus suddenly tries to jump at Vaughn, who easily subdues him again.~

Augustus Raymeth: You did this!! You!!

Peter Vaughn: You've really flipped your lid, haven't you, Augustus? Did Judd put you up to this? Is he the reason you're attacking us??

~Vaughn grabs the back of Augustus' neck, but he struggles against the hold.~

Augustus Raymeth: I don't give a damn about Judd!! I want... ow! I want my family's land back! You stole it!! YOU STOLE IT!!!

Peter Vaughn: Are we still on about that?

~Vaughn shakes his head, even as we hear sirens approaching. They all look off towards the flashing lights coming up the road.~

Sadie Anderson: Better late than never?

Peter Vaughn: I suppose... c'mon, crazy, let's go meet the police...

Augustus Raymeth: Thief... you're a THIEF!!

~Vaughn drags him towards the police cars that are pulling up, as we cut away.~


It all comes down to this, Knoxie: can we trust our tag-team partners?

I feel good about mine. How about you?

Are you starting to feel some nerves there, Knext, or are you immune from those nowadays? Do you even care enough to get nervous?

Because I'm feeling it. It's getting me energized, ready for war with you once again.

Let the Blast From The Past Tournament begin.

Once Bobbie and I wipe The KnoxVex conglomerate from the brackets, we'll move on to the next team. And the next one. And we won't stop until we've got those championship shots in our grasp.

And I'll relish the thought of Knox thinking to himself, "I could have stopped him. Once again, I could have stopped the path of destruction.

And I failed."

See you in the ring, boyo. Good luck. You'll both need it.


~The final firetruck drives away, its lights off. Vaughn and Sadie watch them go, before looking back at the two damaged barns sitting nearby.~

Peter Vaughn: Those aren't going to be cheap to rebuild.

Sadie Anderson: Maybe we can get the Raymeth Estate to pay for it.

~Vaughn doesn't seem optimistic, knowing how long battles can take in the courts. They'll need those barns much sooner than that. They walk off to look over more of the damage, as Sadie glances at a bullet hole in the wall.~

Sadie Anderson: Amazing that Augustus really went off the deep end there. I knew he wanted this land back, but I thought it was just a scheme with Judd Harrison. He really took it personally. I wonder why he believes so strongly that you stole this land from his father?

~Vaughn can only shrug his shoulders, looking off in the distance with a small smile.~

Peter Vaughn: Who knows?

~Vaughn keeps staring, as if remembering something that happened here long ago. Sadie doesn't notice, continuing to go over the damage as the camera slowly zooms out, leaving the PMV Ranch, formerly the Raymeth Ranch, behind.~

 

2
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.
 

3
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.~



4
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.~


5
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.~

6
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.~


7
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.~


8
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.~


9
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.~



10
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.
    

11
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.~

12
Climax Control Archives / Remote Recruitment
« on: August 04, 2023, 10:51:18 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up on what appears to be a long, grassy plain. Of course, the buildings seen a short distance away changes this opinion of yours rather quickly, as obviously, this is closer to being a city park of some sort. And for now, in a way, you'd be right. But once upon a time, this was where a rather abandoned warehouse once stood, a warehouse that was used for many a promo from one Peter Vaughn. That building has been demolished, though, with Vaughn working to apparently retake the land afterwards, digging up the soil and laying out new layers of grass across the area. But that's not all Vaughn has been doing. The camera turns, showing Vaughn lifting with his knees, bringing a small tree out of the back of his pick-up truck, affectionately known as Gabriella. He turns towards the cameraman, walking his way.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there, friend. Haven't seen you in a few weeks. What do you think so far? Think we're making some good progress?

~The cameraman seems to shrug, not really knowing what Vaughn is fully going for. But Vaughn takes his response as a positive one, even as he steps to the side, where a hole has already been dug. An industrial-strength auger sits to the side, likely modified in Vaughn's typical style. It certainly dug a deep enough hole, as Vaughn easily gets the tree inside.~

Peter Vaughn: Just you wait, camera dude. This place? It's going to be magnificent once we're done.

~It's clear Vaughn has other help in this project, as he's been travelling around the world a lot lately. But right now, there are no signs of the rest of the crew.~

Peter Vaughn: So let's talk about a few weeks ago. You got to watch as I once again fulfilled my promise. I took down Bill Barnhart for a second time, this time beating him one on one, and the beautiful Roulette Championship stayed around my waist. I certainly earned a new appreciation for the usage of duct tape. It really does fix anything. All-in-all, it was a hell of a victory, making me extremely proud to continue my reign. I've got a ways to go to add up the days like some people here, but the count is still going up.

~Vaughn dusts off his hands, looking off into the distance for a second, considering things.~

Peter Vaughn: And thank goodness it worked out that way. How embarrassing would it have been to come to the next show, where the almighty Goth is making his return, and not have my championship with me? I'm glad I didn't let the Saviors down. And now, we're one step closer to taking over the reins here in Sin City once again.

~Vaughn nods to himself, and then heads back to the truck, apparently to get another seedling of a tree. The cameraman turns to the right, showing the strategically dug holes cutting a path through the grassy field. It's not a completely straight path. In fact, it seems to curve around, an interesting formation once all of the trees are in. The cameraman turns back to Vaughn, who's lugging in another one.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, I'd be remiss if I left out the other significant event at the last Climate Control. And no, it wasn't the short returns of Mac or Ken, although those were pretty memorable. No, the biggest moment was the fact that a fellow Savior member, The Troll, got a victory. He got an amazing sunset flip, perfectly improvised, to get the 1-2-3. It was a hell of a moment, one that admittedly many of us weren't expecting. And who'd he get it on? Why, it was my opponent for this next week... "The Outlaw" Max Steele.

~Vaughn shakes his head, laughing to himself, before plopping the tree into its desired position. He kicks some dirt on top of it, making sure it's settled, before turning back, with the cameraman following him.~

Peter Vaughn: When I heard I'd be competing in a Non-Title match, frankly, I was not a happy camper. I want to put as many defenses as I can with this championship, making everyone have to accept that my reign has truly been a great one. But when I saw who my booked opponent was, well, I couldn't really say anything. After all, Maxie Pad fell to the Troll. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement for a title shot.

~As Vaughn reaches the truck again, he pulls out the next tree, shifting it towards the edge of the pick-up. He stops, though, opting to turn back to the camera.*

Peter Vaughn: The funny thing is, in my last two matches, I've had to tell myself, don't underestimate the competition. Sure, I felt I was better than Milo & The Troll, and I was extremely confident about ol' Barnhart, but I forced myself to fight them hard, and it paid off. But now, man, it's going to be difficult not to come into this one with too much confidence. After all, Maxie's looking more like an invalid than an outlaw at this point. But I have to wonder: can he use this as motivation?

~Vaughn leans an arm on his beloved truck, clearly thinking backwards in time to some of his accomplishments in the sport.~

Peter Vaughn: I remember well how an embarrassing loss or two could find a way to inspire me to greatness. After all, once you've taken that fall from grace, you only have two options: sit there on your ass and cry about it, or start climbing back up to where you were. So which one will it be for Maxwell? We'll just have to find out, won't we? And hey, if I beat him in record time, we'll know what the answer was, won't we?

~Vaughn nods, basically agreeing with himself, as the cameraman doesn't appear to be doing anything. There's a honk from behind, and Vaughn turns, taking in several trucks coming in.~

Peter Vaughn: About time my army got here. I was thinking I was going to have to do everything myself.

~As the trucks start to park, the cameraman turns towards them, intent on getting a shot of some of the drivers. But Vaughn stops him, waving him back over.~

Peter Vaughn: No need to film them, boyo. The star's right here. And the star's going to keep rising when he pounds some Steele into submission at Climate Control. Now feel free to take off, my man. These guys and I have some work to do.

~Vaughn gets the third tree up and walks off, even as the cameraman turns to see him go. We can hear doors slamming close by, as people get out of their trucks. The temptation to turn and film must be incredibly powerful. But this cameraman knows better than to go against Vaughn, considering Vaughn almost buried him in a collapsing building without even having any animosity towards him. Instead. the footage cuts out.~


~As the shot shifts into a different location, we see a beautiful view off the side of a mountain. It's a view of Machu Picchu, a majestic sight as the ancient structures rise up before us. The shot moves forward, defying gravity, proving to us that this is a drone, as it begins zooming over the different walls and blocks, taking in the mysterious history of this place. The drone has a destination in mind, though, and it heads there, flying towards where we can see a man holding the reins of two horses, standing off to the side. He is unknown to us, a local, most likely. He glances to his left, and the drone follows, heading that way. We can now see another man standing nearby, staring off into the distance with a decent drop just a few feet away from him. Peter Vaughn is genuinely smiling, perhaps feeling something deep in his ancestral genes for being in a wonderous place like this. Or maybe he just ate a Snickers bar. You never know. Unfortunately, the moment of tranquility is broken up as Vaughn's satellite phone rings, wiping the smile from his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Knew I should have turned that off.

~Vaughn reluctantly pops out the phone, basically answering it just to stop it from disturbing the stillness around him.~

Peter Vaughn: Go for Vaughn.

Sadie Anderson: Peter? Look, it's Sadie.

Peter Vaughn: Sadie who?

Sadie Anderson: ... Are you serious?

Peter Vaughn: Of course not. What's going on, Sadie? How's the ranch doing?

~There's a distorted sound that comes from the phone, possibly grumbling or cursing, but it's done with the receiver covered, so we can't make it out. After a second, Sadie's voice returns.~

Sadie Anderson: The ranch is... still standing. But I really need to discuss something with you.

Peter Vaughn: I'm listening.

Sadie Anderson: Your new animals were delivered here last week, and we've been taking the best care of them that we can. But it's taking a lot to maintain all of this livestock with the crew you've currently got.

Peter Vaughn: How are the donkeys doing? I'm hoping they didn't get too airsick...

Sadie Anderson: Seriously, Peter, please listen to me. We... we need help here.

Peter Vaughn: Help? Really? I'm sorry, Sadie, I truly am, but I've got several wrestling events coming up, including this weekend. I'm afraid I'll be unavailable for some time.

Sadie Anderson: I know that, Peter, and I'm not talking about just you. With Thomas still recovering, and you out of the country, we're really short-handed. And we were never prepared to have the cattle come in along with all of the donkeys & mules you arranged for. Throw in the pigs and chickens and this place has become a regular farmstead with the crew the size of a ranch much smaller.

~Vaughn scratches at his chin, thinking it over. As much as he hates to admit it, Sadie's making sense. His ranch has been expanding dramatically as of late, and he hasn't hired anyone new in a month or two.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, then, why don't you go out and hire some more hands? You probably know the talent out there better than I do.

Sadie Anderson: It doesn't work like that, Peter. You have to be the one who talks to them and hires them. It's the way of the rancher. I can offer suggestions, but...

Peter Vaughn: Wait, how am I supposed to seek out people for you, all the way over here? Can't you just talk to some and I'll rubber stamp them or something?

Sadie Anderson: If we have to do that, you won't get the best respect from those you're hiring. They'll likely do sloppy work, and will leave us in a lurch in a moment's notice if they get something better. They need to trust the owner of the ranch, and that's not me.

~Vaughn sighs, looking around for a few seconds.~

Peter Vaughn: It's pretty barren of people out there, Sadie. I can ask a few who do some work in these hills, but I don't think many of them speak English.

Sadie Anderson: No, Peter, that's not what we need...

Peter Vaughn: I mean, I DID see a guy herding some sheep and goats earlier. They caught my attention, because I thought, what could we do with the wool and the goat's milk, as well as the...

Sadie Anderson: NO MORE ANIMALS!!

~The scream catches Vaughn off-guard, and he almost drops the satellite phone. Thankfully, his reaction speed is still up to the task, as he gathers it back in before it falls too far.~

Peter Vaughn: Geez, Sadie...

Sadie Anderson: I... I'm sorry, Peter. But we really need to take care of the personnel issue first, before anything else is added. Your ranch hands are getting overworked... including me.

Peter Vaughn: Alright, look... I'll see what I can do from here. If I can arrange something, I'll let you know. Okay?

Sadie Anderson: Thank you, Peter. And good luck at your match this weekend. I'll be cheering for you.

Peter Vaughn: Luck won't be required. But thanks. Goodbye.

~Vaughn hangs up the satellite phone, putting it back on his belt. He turns and walks over to where his guide is waiting, having brought Vaughn up to this spot. Vaughn considers the guide for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: You don't speak English, right?

~The guide doesn't respond. He just stares at Vaughn, waiting, with Vaughn sighing and nodding to the horses.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. She didn't want me to import anything else to the ranch, anyway. Let's get going. I've got an impossible mission to take care of.

~Vaughn gets on the horse, with the guide saddling up as well. They ride off, as the picture cuts out.~


The things you have to do to keep moving forward, am I right, Max? Or should I call you Mad? I don't know for sure, you might be changing your name due to that whole "HBO Max" thing, and I guess I can't blame you. Besides, you probably want a new name after getting yourself pinned by The Troll.

That's one that's going to be extremely hard to live down, isn't it?

Really, if I were you, I'd only see two courses readily available for me. Either I'd leave Sin City with my tail between my legs, never to be seen again, or I'd rile myself up to an enraged state and put everything I have into my next contest. Boy, it's really a shame for you that you got booked against me next, because you certainly should have the motivation to be competitive... just not the skills or talent, apparently.

But I could be wrong. Maybe there's greatness somewhere under that skin of yours, waiting to find its way out. I suppose anything is possible.

I know from what I've seen of you is that you're not any bigger than I am, which is kind of a relief, actually, considering all the powerhouses I seem to get booked against lately. It'll be nice to match speed vs. speed with someone, seeing which one of us is the most agile (spoiler: it's me). I don't really know what makes you an Outlaw, though. Is it just because you don't call any place home? Or is it because you robbed a bank at some point and are hoping that you're never caught by the authorities?

Nah. You don't have the luck or skill to rob a bank and get away with it. Never mind.

Honestly, there's a lot I don't know about you, Maxine, and the fact is, it's not like I really need to know anything at this point. After all, they don't usually introduce the jobber to the fans, do they? And that's what you are right now, Max: the jobber. It's an unenviable position to be in, I know. But that's what happens when you lose to the guy who had been on a monumental losing streak. You immediately get planted at the bottom of the ladder, in the muck and mud below it, where it's hard to get back out again.

I plan to stomp you down even further, my friend.

Because my momentum is taking me all the way to the top, and there's no way I'm letting a man like you take that away from me. Your career is already in ruins, needing a miracle to find a restoration. And I'm not in the habit of granting miracles, at least not to people like you.

Those kids at the hospital that keep calling? Maybe I'll give them one or two miracle visits. Maybe. But not you, Maxey.

Ultimately, Max, I'm going to have to do something a little distasteful at Climate Control. I'm going to have to get in that ring and fight you when you're at your lowest, and do my best to basically end your career in Sin City Wrestling. You'd think I'd relish something like that, but you'd be wrong. Because it's wasteful, Max. It's trashing something without recycling it. But if that's what happens, then so be it.

It's all part of being in the business, after all. And you know I'm all about taking care of business.


~The picture comes back further down the mountainside, where the encampment has been set up for the SCW wrestlers and crew to live at for a few days. At least, the ones who didn't want to travel too far from the action, and who didn't mind roughing it a little. Just outside one of the well-made tents, we see Vaughn adjusting what appears to be a Starlink set-up. Once it appears to be working, Vaughn heads inside, sitting down on a cot and bringing out a laptop. He types in a few commands, fixes a few settings, and then finally seems satisfied with what he sees.~

Peter Vaughn: Internet out in Machu Picchu. What wild times we live in.

~He types in a few more commands, waiting, as a Zoom call can be heard beginning to ring. Our vantage point changes to over his shoulder, as Vaughn stares at the screen. After a few seconds, the image fades into view, showing us Mr. Wyatt Bailey, the ornery old cattleman that Vaughn recently worked out a deal with, getting himself some prized Texas cattle on his land.~

Wyatt Bailey: Vaughn? That you? Why you calling me on this infernal thing? I was just about to head out!

Peter Vaughn: Sorry, Mr. Bailey, but I had a question for you. I'm looking to hire some new hands for my ranch, and I wanted to check with you for some ideas.

~For a second, it almost looks like Bailey's connection freezes, but it's just because his expression of annoyance/confusion stays stuck on his face for a few seconds.~

Wyatt Bailey: ... Vaughn, you know good and well that I recently had to hire several new hands to replace the rats you helped point out to me. I really don't have anyone you could poach from me, and I wouldn't tell you their names even if I DID have them!

Peter Vaughn: Hold on, Mr. Bailey, don't get the wrong idea. I was actually wondering where you got your replacements from. Is there, like, an online site or something?

Wyatt Bailey: You serious? I went out and found them, Vaughn, and then I hired them! They'll be all around the Dallas area, looking for work. It's not that damn hard.

Peter Vaughn: *sigh* It is when you're halfway around the world...

Wyatt Bailey: Yeah, I guess that WOULD make it a pain in the butt. Well, you'll have to figure out something, Vaughn, because I don't want my cattle I gave you starving over there. They deserve to be well taken care of. They need to be kept clean, watered, and fed. Don't make me regret my investment.

~Vaughn's eyes suddenly widen slightly, as an idea seems to come to him.

Peter Vaughn: Kept... clean. Hmmm.

Wyatt Bailey: You don't want them to get sick, right?

Peter Vaughn: No, Mr. Bailey, of course not. And don't worry, the cattle are my ranch's number one priority. Thank you for your time. I'll let you get back to... whatever you were about to do, wearing that outfit.

Wyatt Bailey: What's wrong with this? The ladies love this look!

~Mr. Bailey readjusts the collar of the western-style outfit he's wearing. It's... not the greatest of looks.~

Peter Vaughn: Hope you have a good time, sir. I'll let you go.

Wyatt Bailey: Alright, son. I'm sorry I wasn't more helpful.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, trust me, you were, Mr. Bailey. I'll talk to you later.

~Vaughn then disconnects the call, sending a confused Mr. Bailey to head out onto the town, painting it in whatever color he wants. In the meantime, Vaughn sets up another Zoom call, dialing it in. It rings for a minute before connecting.~

Bill Sykes: Hello?

Peter Vaughn: Bill? Peter Vaughn here.

Bill Sykes: ... Hello, Mr. Vaughn. What can I do for you?

Peter Vaughn: I'm needing some help with the work on my ranch...

Bill Sykes: ... What, like plumbing or janitorial help?

Peter Vaughn: No, basically all-around help... and I think the Custodial Coalition is just the way I should go. After all... who's more dependable than custodians?

~A very puzzled Bill Sykes keeps talking to Vaughn, having no other option. That's because Vaughn is still the head of the Custodial Coalition, a position he inherited from the former Head Custodian last year. It's a union of janitorial server workers all around the United States (and also in a few other countries), working as an underground unit to better the lives of custodians all over. While Bill sounds skeptical, Vaughn is already pushing ahead, his idea seemingly too perfect to fail, as we slowly fade out.~


Sometimes my own brilliance amazes even me. Of course custodians would be amazing working on a ranch! After all, look at me and my background! It's going to work out flawlessly, I'm sure of it.

Just as I'm completely certain that I'll be dominating you at Climate Control, Steal. The only real question in my mind is if you'll even show up. It wouldn't shock me if I walk out to the ring, raising up my Roulette Championship above my head, and I end up all alone out there, listening to "Evil Ways" playing without anyone showing up. That spotlight, just highlighted on the entryway, with no sign of movement behind the curtains.

But again, maybe you'll take the other road and come to fight, and hey, I'll take that, too. It won't change the outcome, but it will make things more entertaining, for sure. In the end, though, that referee WILL be raising my hand at the end of the contest, whether it's due to pinfall, submission, countout, or a forfeit. I'll take any of them, really, to record another victory in Sin City.

You see, I'm still treading water here in the company, because Goth's return is imminent. He'll rocket to the top of the federation, and I plan to travel along in his wake, as I take my place near the most dominant competitors in the main event. I've already taken the Roulette Title to new heights, and I'll continue to bring glory to myself and the Saviors in the months to come.

And at some point, whether Goth gets there or not... that World Title will still be on my mind sooner rather than later.

But none of that matters to you, Maxie. All that matters is how quickly you go down.

Just show up. Take the beating. Take the paycheck and whatever exit fee they're willing to give you as they kick you out the door. Use the money to find life somewhere else, in some other part of the world.

Or prove you belong here. It's up to you.

Prepare yourself for the Plunge, boyo.


13
Climax Control Archives / Expansion, Exploitation, & Exploration
« on: July 21, 2023, 10:55:03 PM »
~The picture slowly comes up on what appears to be a heavily-leveled field. There is no grass or weeds to be seen, at least not in front of the camera, as the dirt seems pretty heavily worked on. In the background, we can see a large dump truck leaving the area, seemingly filled to the brim with concrete slabs of various shapes and sizes. The camera slowly turns, showing us more of a 'vacant' area, even though we can see some buildings ahead of us, showing that this section of land is a zoned-off area in a city somewhere. The camera moves again to the right, and this time we see Peter Vaughn approaching us, pushing in front of him what appears to be a heavily-modified cordless tiller. It's chewing up the ground as it approaches, thanks to a few extra blades having been attached. It's honestly a little scary to see, and it must be just as terrifying in person, because the cameraman quickly begins backing up to try and get out of range. Vaughn, though, shuts the machine off, stepping around it and nodding to the cameraman.~

Peter Vaughn: About time you got here. I'm about done with this part of the work. Hey, you ever consider helping some with the labor, instead of just filming? No? I didn't think so.

~Vaughn smirks, before stepping back over to the tiller and checking it over. The engine is still hissing, with Vaughn studying it for a moment, making sure it's hanging in there. He looks back at the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: Sure, some might say building in a V8 mini into a ground-shredder like this is overkill. They're probably right. But hey, it sure makes the work easier when I need it. It's also good for parts if needed.

~Vaughn pats the tiller on the side, and it almost seems to grunt from the contact, as if it's alive. And with Vaughn, you never really know, although odds are pretty heavy that the noise was just a coincidence. Either way, Vaughn gets back to his feet, still smiling as he wipes some sweat off his brow.~

Peter Vaughn: You may wonder why I'm out here again at the old warehouse site. I'm sure you thought, now that it's been torn down, you wouldn't have to come here anymore. Well, you'd be wrong. I've got plans for this place. Big plans. You'll see.

~He glances around at the 'field' once more before focusing his energy back on the camera lens.~

Peter Vaughn: That being said, how about we talk about Sin City? I'm sure that's why most of the folks are watching this, after all. So after that little cruise, I've managed to continue my Roulette Title run. It was a valiant effort... from one of my opponents, at least... but I now have an Ultimate X victory on my list of achievements. It was a good feeling, holding up my belt, even if my team wasn't able to win later in the night. But hey, sometimes that happens. What matters is that I continue to be the most dominant singles wrestler in SCW to never have had a Heavyweight Title match here. Something to think about, boyos.

~Vaughn grins, shrugging it off with a sly wink to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: Still, we're moving up in the world. I've even been booked in the main event for Climax Control, putting up my belt on the line once again. For the second time, it's against a man I beat to win the title. But it's not Milo once more, no... it's Barnhart. Bill Barnhart. The man I keep hearing described as a legend and Hall of Famer, yet someone who has yet to ever bring his A game to the table against me. It's really a conundrum for me.

~Vaughn's phone beeps, and he takes a quick look at it, nodding, before continuing his train of thought.~

Peter Vaughn: After all, let's face it: I only want to be facing the best. I want to take on all the challenges that Sin City has to offer, and find a way to blast through all of them. And that brings me to Barnhart, the Hall of Famer who's been losing constantly lately. I just haven't seen that fire that I'm wanting to see, befitting someone who's challenging for my gold. But I made a vow not to underestimate anyone. I even came into the cruise trying to give The Troll the benefit of the doubt. I mean, clearly, nothing I did would have mattered as he eliminated himself so damn quickly, but I did my best to try and consider him the tiniest of threats.

~Vaughn shows his index finger and his thumb only the slightest bit apart, measuring out the Troll's threat level the best he can.~

Peter Vaughn: So I don't want to overlook the Bulldog. I really don't. But I'm going to put out this plea to him just in case. Bill... you're supposed to be worth a damn in the squared circle. You're supposed to be someone I should be worried about as a top contender. So can you man up and be that guy one more time? Make it a fight worth winning, where I walk away thinking I managed to scrape through by the skin of my teeth? Or are you going to disappoint me once again, leaving me thinking that your retirement has to be just over the horizon? I look forward to your answer, Bill. I look forward to your decision.

~There's a loud noise behind the cameraman, making him jump. It's a truck horn, blaring out to alert the two men that the large vehicle has arrived. The cameraman spins around, focusing on the large Dodge backing towards them, its back fully loaded with what appear to be rolled-up grass strips. There appears to be plenty of grass, especially when we see two more trucks pulling up as well. Vaughn smiles, happy to see them.~

Peter Vaughn: Cool. I just need to make a few more passes, and then the next phase will begin. I'm telling you, this is going to be a hell of a plan, friend. It's all moving ahead like clockwork.

~Vaughn moves back to his tiller contraption, getting it ready to start once more. He looks back at the cameraman, pausing for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: You sure you don't want to join in and help us? A little exercise never hurts, although for a cameraman, you're in decent shape.

~The camera slowly shakes left to right, signifying a reluctance to join in whatever crazy scheme Vaughn is currently brewing in. Vaughn shrugs, then reaches down for the cord.~

Peter Vaughn: Your loss.

~With a yank, the noisy engine starts up again. Vaughn begins to effortlessly move forward, continuing to till up the soil around his zoned area. The trucks get themselves lined up, with the workers stepping out to start unloading their cargo. Sensing that the activity is about to pick up in intensity, the cameraman slowly retreats, keeping the camera trained on Vaughn's efforts until we finally fade out.~


~The shot returns, this time coming from what appears to be an office window overseeing the plains of Texas. We can see the beautiful view in the reflection, even as Wyatt Bailey, one of the top cattle distributors in the state, steps forward, staring out the window. He has a phone up to one ear, apparently in mid-conversation. Thankfully, in spite of the glass, we can hear what he's saying through the magic of editing.~

Wyatt Bailey: You're still a smug son of a bitch, you know that, right?

~Bailey turns away from the window, as we suddenly find ourselves inside his office. He steps over to a nearby computer, typing away with one hand to bring up an apparent invoice.~

Wyatt Bailey: Okay, okay. It says here two dozen head of cattle will be delivered to your ranch this weekend. I know you were wanting more, but I need some assurances that you can actually handle this much before you go any bigger. After all, you've never wrangled cattle before, have you, Vaughn?

~The screen suddenly divides, and we see Peter Vaughn standing on the other side, leaning against a large wall of rock. He's got his own phone up to his head, although it's a much larger variation than Mr. Bailey is using. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Maybe not officially, but I've always been good with animals, Mr. Bailey, and you know I hire only the best to work at my ranch.

Wyatt Bailey: Uh huh. I saw that Sadie you have over there. Quite a looker.

Peter Vaughn: That has nothing to do with how talented she is as a ranch hand.

Wyatt Bailey: You're right, of course. I can't help being a little old-school, but I'm sure she's plenty qualified. Still, you're not going to see another head of cattle from me until some time has passed and it's clear you deserve to have them, you understand?

Peter Vaughn: Fair enough. But I'm telling you, *static* can be trusted to *static* when I need them.

Wyatt Bailey: What was that, Vaughn? You broke up some there. Where are you calling me from, anyway? Your ranch?

Peter Vaughn: Not exactly.

~The camera split suddenly ends, as we're fully focused on Vaughn. He looks around his surroundings, as the camera zooms out, showing us the ruins he's currently standing in. It appears to be The Dam in Petra, Jordan, where SCW's Climax Control is set to take place this weekend.~

Peter Vaughn: Look, you have nothing to worry about, Mr. Bailey. I trust my staff implicitly. Every animal will be taken care of. For now, I've got to take care of some business. I see my ride coming around the corner. I'll talk to you later.

~Vaughn presses a button on the satellite phone, cutting it off. He then turns to his left, where we see a man approaching, guiding a large camel. The camel takes one look at Vaughn and spits to the side, before giving a small, annoyed grunt. Vaughn just stares at the creature for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: "The Ship of the Desert", huh? Okay, we'll do as locals do. Where's the stirrup to get up there?

~The man, apparently understanding what Vaughn was asking, just grins. He says a command to the camel, who reluctantly goes down on his knees. There is no saddle, of course. Vaughn takes it in, looking a little disappointed.~

Peter Vaughn: Guess I should have worn a cup today. Oh well. Let's get a move on, I haven't got all day.

~Vaughn positions himself on the camel, which quickly raises back up. The man then begins to guide them away from the Dam, as Vaughn works to sit as comfortably as possible. It's no easy task.~


Sometimes you just ride the position you're given. Isn't that right, Billy?

I mean, c'mon. Let's go over some recent history here. It's a year in review for Mr. Barnhart, 2023. It's kind of... well, I don't want to whitewash it, but from all appearances, it's pretty much sucked for you, hasn't it? Oh, sure, you started the year with my Roulette Title, but Goth quickly took that one away from you in January at Inception VI. Since then, well, you just haven't found your fire after getting scorched by the Saviors, have you?

Look at this list. You and Senor Vinnie lost to the Saviors in February. You got your rear handed to you by Chris Page at Blaze of Glory XI. And then you started to come into my airspace, didn't you? You took that loss to Malachi, then got to be the referee in my match against him. And after I knocked Malachi cold and got you to count to 3 (good job, by the way), I laid you out as well with the Keyholder.

Oh, did I forget to mention your Dog Collar loss to Alexander Raven? He beat you pretty badly, too, didn't he?

The losses to me continued at Into The Void XII, when I took both you and Malachi down to begin my epic Roulette Title reign. Then, wonder of wonders, you showed signs of life. You actually won a match! Sure, it was against Sal Darius, a guy I've never heard of, but it counts, man! You're in the record books with a victory in 2023! Congrats!

Sorry to say, that's about the last bright spot, though, isn't it? Because the Barnharts would go on to lose a contender's opportunity to Alexander Raven & Luna Vanity. But you tried to shake that off, saying that you deserved to be in the ring still with the best of the best. I guess that's why you agreed to matches against Austin James Mercer and J2H, right?

Neither of those went particularly well, did they?

To cap it all off, you were given a #1 contenders match at Summer XXXTreme XI, a chance for the Barnharts to finally pull themselves out of the losing column. All you had to do was beat Ben Jordan & Sam Marlowe! That's it! Yeah. Man, bummer that the losses kept happening for you. But at least you got to face Team Go on Climax Control... oh. Never mind. You lost that too.

So by my count, that's 11 losses this year. Sure, it's been against some intense competition a lot of the time, but that's still not a great record. Surely not one that signifies that you've earned yourself a Roulette Championship rematch. But I guess we're still trending on history, aren't we, Billy? You once were one of the best here, so you keep getting the benefit of the doubt... when what I really think is for you to go back to the bottom of the ladder and stay there for a while.

I don't mean to sound too condescending. But the fact is, Billy, you've lost something. You've got to find it again if you want to be competitive in Sin City, facing wrestlers like Austin, J2H, and myself. Right now, the higher-ups aren't doing any favors putting you against me. I don't care what kind of a payday you're getting for this main event appearance.

It's not worth it.

Just trust me on this, Billy. After we fight, when I plant you into the ground and get the 1-2-3, adding yet another loss to your record this year, go and talk to management. Tell them you want to face some lower-level opponents and regain your mojo. Tell them you need to rebuild your reputation from scratch, fight your way up the ladder, and maybe find a path to once again becoming this Hall of Famer I've heard so much about.

Hey, I'm pulling for you. As I've said earlier, I want to face the best. I'm just not sure you're ready for me yet.

It's just a lousy position for you to be in, apparently.


~The man in front slows the camel as they come up on a set of constructed buildings and fences near the ruins of Petra. The camel once again lowers, maybe a little quicker this time, happy to be getting rid of the wrestler on his back. Vaughn may not be a big powerhouse, but he's not light as a feather, either. He happily gets off the camel, walking gingerly for a few steps as he regains his 'sand' legs. He then straightens up, nodding to the guide before walking over to the group that's waiting for him.~

Peter Vaughn: Ibrahim?

~The man in the center, wearing a slightly more expensive wardrobe than the men around him, steps forward and does a quick bow.~

Ibrahim Saleh: It is good to meet you at last, Mr. Peter Vaughn.

~Vaughn returns the nod, adjusting his tanned coveralls for a moment before moving into step with Saleh and his men. They head inside a nearby building, which is mostly fabric with a few wooden walls. It is clearly built more as a mobile location.~

Ibrahim Saleh: So I hope you had a pleasant trip into our country.

Peter Vaughn: I can't complain... about most of it...

~Vaughn shakes out one leg, which gets a laugh from Saleh.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Yes, I would imagine camels must take time to get used to, after riding horses like you cowboys always do.

Peter Vaughn: It's certainly a different experience. But then, that's why I'm here. For different experiences.

Ibrahim Saleh: So you say. I remember the deal you proposed well. Do you truly think that some of my livestock would work in your new... ranch, is it?

Peter Vaughn: I am still looking to expand it piece by piece. I've already added chickens, pigs, and now cattle to my ranks. I have horses, but I'm short of manual labor animals, such as donkeys and mules.

Ibrahim Saleh: And camels?

Peter Vaughn: I'm not sure camels would do so well in Texas. It's a pretty different environment. But I'd be willing to consider any alternatives.

Ibrahim Saleh: Indeed. Well, Mr. Vaughn, let me show you what we have currently! They are right back here.

~The group makes it way out the back of the building, through what appears to be a man-made door in the fabric. We see several fenced area set up, with the animals separated from each other. There appear to be a good supply of donkeys, mules, and camels, as well as a few other animals further back. Vaughn's eyes narrow slightly as he walks towards the first block, taking a few extra steps so that he can leap over the fence. Saleh laughs behind him.~

Ibrahim Saleh: You could have easily used the gate, Mr. Vaughn. It is right down here.

~Saleh and his group laugh to each other, saying a few words in a language that Vaughn doesn't understand. He's not listening, anyway, as he studies one of the donkeys standing there. It looks to be worn out, in rough shape from a lot of work hours having been put in. It stares at Vaughn, almost pleadingly, as he reaches out and grabs the heavy chain hanging from the donkey's neck. You can see some scraping underneath the chain, where it's done damage to the skin. Vaughn steps around this donkey and checks on another, which appears to be favoring its right front leg. Vaughn looks it over, patting on it, as Saleh and the rest of his group make their way over to them. Saleh seems to take in where Vaughn is looking, as he shakes his head for a moment.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Oh, Mr. Vaughn, you've come to the wrong area, I'm afraid! If you look further back along the fence line, I'm sure we can find much better surplus for you to work with. These animals in the front are mostly used up. But if you want to talk a deal about them...

~Vaughn doesn't answer. Not in words. But he does suddenly stand up straight, wrapping the chain he just took off the donkey around his hand. Saleh, confused, steps closer.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Is there a problem. Mr. Vau-

~The chain hits Saleh in the chest, knocking him backwards into the group. They all manage to catch Saleh before he falls, which is too bad, as he would have gone right into a pile of 'fertilizer' created by the donkeys in the pen.~

Peter Vaughn: There's no problem. Ibrahim. I appear to be exactly where I need to be.

~Saleh coughs, trying to get his breath back, as the other men begin to shout for others to come. Vaughn, meanwhile, straightens up, readjusting the chain.~


I never like to be out of control in any situation. Of course, being the Roulette Champion, that feels very ironic.

You see, that might still be your best chance to slip in there somewhere, Billy. As you know, the wheel will likely spin, deciding on our contest in the main event, and I, as the champion, have no power on what match it ends up on. Now, obviously, there are some that are very favorable to me. If it lands on a Ladder match again, well, you're pretty much toast and should just stay in the back buttering yourself up while I take the victory.

If it ends up being any kind of agility challenge, I'm the obvious choice to pull way ahead of your bulky self. So I assume you're going to be hoping for more of a hardcore variety, but then, I enjoy myself in those kind of matches too. But what if, say, it ends up being a power maneuver match? What if I have to give you a powerbomb or something?

I mean, you've clearly put on weight lately, haven't you?

I do think I'd still find a way, even though it sounds like a tall order. But then, there are so many other possibilities. What about an Inferno match? If you ended up on fire, watching that beard of yours burn away, it'd be an amazing sight. Talk about giving yourself a disadvantage with that long growth on your face!

Oh, but what if it's a shaving challenge? Would I win automatically, or would I lose just because I have less to shave?

That'd be a pretty boring match either way, though, so I don't think they'd put it on the wheel.

Suffice to say, you and I can't fully be prepared for our contest, can we? Really, anything could pop up as our match of the night. But I've wrestled in all sorts of weird and wild concepts the last two years. At this point, it'd take a lot to surprise me and take me off-guard. But with Sin City, hey, you never know.

What if it turns out to be a Dog Collar match, which should be one of your specialties, and yet I still beat you? Would you be able to survive that, Billy? Would you just walk out of the arena afterwards, retirement speech already being written inside your mind, as you get ready to give up on this sport that made you famous?

I'd rather you didn't quit because of me, Billy. Not because I'd feel bad about it, but it would probably be used as ammunition against me for years to come. "I'm Coming For You Because You Made The Bulldog Quit!!" Yeah, I don't need that kind of harassment. So if you announce your retirement, could you slip in another match first? Maybe give Milo another opportunity, he'd probably be pleased.

Overall, Billy, we'll see what the Roulette Gods have in store with us, if any of them actually exist. Whatever the end result, I know that I'm going to come into this one giving 110% or more of myself to make sure my title reign continues. And you may say it's not possible to go over 100%, but then, that's what losers say to themselves. When you believe you can't give any more of yourself, that's when you've been defeated in life.

And I never let myself lose like that, Billy. I always keep myself in control. Always.


Ibrahim Saleh: SAEID!! TAEAL ALAA HUNA!!

~With Saleh's yell, more men come running from all directions, as Vaughn waits patiently, chain still wrapped around his hand. The numbers have now turned against him for sure, as a dozen men move around him. Some look ready for a fight, while others simply look puzzled at how a business deal has turned against them. Saleh, for his part, looks furious at having been hit.~

Ibrahim Saleh: I don't know what you are thinking, Mr. Vaughn, but you have made a grave mistake!

Peter Vaughn: Have I now? You believe so?

~Fuming, Saleh pulls what appears to be an antique pistol out of his pocket, holding it in his left hand.~

Ibrahim Saleh: You should not have put your hands on me.

Peter Vaughn: And you shouldn't have abused these animals, Ibrahim.

Ibrahim Saleh: Abuse? We do not abuse! We put them to work! They are doing what they are supposed to be doing!

Peter Vaughn: They're supposed to be having the chains so tight around them that damage is done? They're supposed to work without stopping until they are dead? This is no way to treat your animals, Ibrahim.

Ibrahim Saleh: You know nothing of our culture, Mr. Vaughn. But you are about to learn more about it.

~With that, the men start to step forward, only to stop when Vaughn clicks his tongue, before raising up his wrapped fist once again.~

Peter Vaughn: So you're all thinking right now, can we take him? Can the dozen of us manage to beat down this man from the West who has caused so much chaos throughout the fighting world? You've seen him break noses and shatter jaws. You've seen him do absolutely anything it takes to come out victorious. So can our group take him? And how many will fall before they do?

~Vaughn takes a slight step towards the men. A few actually step back, looking nervous. Saleh doesn't, as he still has his gun drawn, ready to use it at a moment's notice.~

Peter Vaughn: It'd be a hell of a fight between us, boyos. I wish we could see it. But unfortunately, it's not meant to be, I guess. Rutabaga.

~Vaughn stops talking, waiting, as all of the men look around at each other, puzzled.~

Ibrahim Saleh: Rutabaga? What do you mean, rutabaga? Is that an insult?

Peter Vaughn: No, no, it's just a word they told me to say. Silly, really. I also thought they'd react quicker. Rutabaga?

~Vaughn waits a few more seconds, but nothing happens. He starts tapping on the left side of his coveralls, as if trying to make something work. Selah grimaces, angrily grabbing at his pistol and clicking off the safety.~

Ibrahim Saleh: I know nothing about this rutabaga! You've made this word up!

Random Guy: Actually, I've heard of it. It's like a yellow vegetable, but they taste like a carrot, only less sweet. I think they call it a Swedish turnip usually.

~Vaughn, Selah, and all the other thugs slowly turn towards the man, staring at him. He looks a little defensive.~

Random Guy: I like the Food Network when we can get it! Alton Brown is incredible!

~Selah sighs, rubbing his face with the non-armed hand.~

Ibrahim Saleh: I'm sorry. This is my cousin, and you know we have to hire family...

Peter Vaughn: Say no more. I know how that goes.

Ibrahim Saleh: If we can get back to...

Peter Vaughn: ... what we were doing, yes. Hey, Rutabaga? RUTABAGA!!!

~As Vaughn's voice echoes throughout the area, the sound of multiple engines starting up is heard all around. Suddenly, several vehicles pull in around the fences, startling the group as they face away from Vaughn, who lets out a breath of relief. The men with Saleh turn, seeing others riding in from both sides on camels, armed and aiming their direction. The cluster of forces quickly surround them, making a second circle to block them in. Saleh, beside himself with fury, starts to raise up his pistol, but Vaughn is there, quick as a cat, grabbing his arm.~

Peter Vaughn: I really wouldn't do that, Ibrahim. I really think they're just waiting for the opportunity here. They've apparently wanted you for a long time. Don't let them just kill you off for nothing.

~His face fading in color, Saleh drops the pistol to the ground. All the others drop their own weapons as well, mostly knives and tools, as the forces move in, corralling them back. One man in particular comes up to Vaughn, nodding to him.~

Officer: Your distraction worked. We found everything we needed to find once the spaces were unoccupied for the search. We've got enough there to put away Ibrahim Selah for a long time. He won't be running his illegal operations anymore.

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. Glad to have helped. Make sure you include in your report to the government my involvement, okay?

~The man nods and walks away, dragging a furious Saleh with him. As the rest of the group starts to get broken up, a lady in a duck-billed hat walks over to Vaughn. She is all smiles, looking extremely pleased as she stares over at the pens holding all the animals.~

Woman: This all went just as you expected, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: For the most part, yes. I didn't plan on riding a camel, but other than that...

Woman: Well, you've done an amazing service for us. On behalf of PETA, I'd like to thank you for your efforts in saving these animals.

Peter Vaughn: Sure. They all look like they need a good, long break for the time being. So... is our deal still in place?

~The woman from PETA hesitates for a moment, then nods. Vaughn breaks into a large grin, before walking back over to the pen and staring at the donkeys again.~


When a plan comes through successfully, it always brings a strong feeling of satisfaction to you. Sure, it may not go EXACTLY as you planned, but it's the end result that matters.

As for Billy... well, I've got a few plans for him. All set up depending on what I see in Petra that night. If it's the 2023 Billy who's been unable to tie his own shoes without falling over? Obviously, the plan is much more simple. But there's always the chance that the 2021 Bulldog finds a way to show up, which means I have to be ready for a fight.

Even if I don't really expect it.

But I can still have hope, Bully. I can still have faith that you're going to give me some actual competition for this one. Do you have it in you, Bulldog? Do you still have a main event flair? Can you make me concerned about Sweet Dreams, about the shoulder breaker, or about the Camel Clutch?

... Seriously, I've already had issues with camels on this trip, I'd prefer to avoid that if at all possible.

If you can find a way to fire yourself up for 5 minutes, senior, I think we can have a match that people will be talking about for a long time. If you could make it 10 minutes, well, I think some people will assume that you got some medical assistance before coming out there, but as long as there are no side effects, I think we can both survive that.

If you're still going after three hours, though, maybe see a doctor.

Look, I make fun, but all-in-all, I really do want the true Bulldog in there. I don't want this white-washed carbon copy that has sucked the fun out of every bingo hall to the east of the Mississippi. I want a true test, because only then does it matter. I want to hear the people say "He defeated "Bulldog" Bill Barnhart" and have it ACTUALLY MEAN SOMETHING!!!

So be there, Bulldog. Get your ass to Jordan and give me the fight I crave. Let's make the Roulette Championship the belt everyone wants, and let J2H go off crying about how his belt just isn't as pretty. We'll spin the wheel, make a deal, and have a meal afterwards, if you can still chew your food once I've kicked you in the face a few times. Because if you show up, if you're actually in a competitive move, I'm buying.

I seriously don't know what restaurants are around here, I haven't seen much other than a few stands, but we'll find something.

Even if you're at full power BULL, though, don't be expecting a different result, because no matter what you bring to the table, I've got the better hand. Whether it's the Keyholder knocking you senseless, the Revenged chipping out some teeth, or when you're taking the Plunge, the ending's going to be the same.

I am the champion, and you, Billy, your time is almost up.


~As all the excitement starts to wind down, Vaughn steps off to the side, staying away from where more men are being arrested. He reaches into his side bag, pulling out his satellite phone once again. It's unclear if this has been modified by Vaughn or not, as we've never seen him work with anything so small before. Then again, the Custodial Coalition HAS been known to tinker, so it's possible. Either way, the phone still works, as he dials in his number and waits as it rings.~

Sadie Anderson: Hello?

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Sadie. It's Peter. I thought I'd call and get a few updates. How's... how's Thomas doing?

Sadie Anderson: Peter! It's good to hear your voice!

~As always, Sadie's comment flies right over Vaughn's head, as he doesn't react to it. But then, who knows what Vaughn is thinking, after everything he learned from his tag-team partner, Kim Pain.~

Peter Vaughn: So how's... how's Thomas doing?

~The line is quiet for a moment, as Vaughn seems to steel himself for the worst.~

Sadie Anderson: Thomas is... still doing okay. He hasn't woken up yet, though, I'm afraid. The doctors say it's natural when you're trying to recover from a wound like he had.

~Vaughn nods, taking a deep breath. Just recently, his half-brother Thomas Hill had been stabbed in a plot that focused on Vaughn. He hated to leave him, but multiple reasons forced him to go back on the road.~

Peter Vaughn: Thanks for looking in on him, Sadie. I appreciate it. How are the new pens coming along?

Sadie Anderson: We're in good shape on the ones for the cattle we have coming in. I know the other boys are still working on that second fenced area you wanted. I still don't understand why we need it, though.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, about that... I might have worked us out a deal to get some donkeys, mules, and camels added to our inventory.

Sadie Anderson: ... What??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, you see... I kind of worked something with the local PETA offices here in Petra. Heh, PETA in Petra, nice word play, right?

Sadie Anderson: ... Keep talking.

Peter Vaughn: Right. Anyway, there was this guy who was known for treating his animals pretty badly, and so I worked out a deal with PETA and the government here to find a way to remove him. It worked out almost flawlessly, too. They found all the evidence they needed. His group's in prison now, or at least, they probably will be soon.

~There's silence on the other end, going long enough that Vaughn starts to wonder if they've been disconnected. But then there's a sigh as Sadie seems to figure it out.~

Sadie Anderson: You scammed them all, didn't you? You got those animals at rock-bottom prices, while barely doing anything to earn it.

Peter Vaughn: ... Hey, I had a gun pointed at me. Doesn't that mean I earned it?

Sadie Anderson: And this 'evidence' you said they found... was it placed there for them to find?

Peter Vaughn: ... I have no comment.

Sadie Anderson: PETER!!

Peter Vaughn: Honestly, though, Sadie, you should see some of these animals. The chain wounds and the damaged backs and legs, it's not going to be easy rehabilitating all of them. Trust me, they deserve to get out of here.

Sadie Anderson: But... but how are you getting them all back here?? I doubt SCW is going to pay for all that cargo!

Peter Vaughn: Oh, don't worry, the government is gladly footing the relocation bill. We don't have to worry about it.

~Vaughn smiles at the thought of so much coming his way for so little. Sadie, though, still doesn't seem impressed.~

Sadie Anderson: I still don't know what we're going to do with a bunch of donkeys, mules, and.... wait, did you say CAMELS???

Peter Vaughn: Yes, but...

Sadie Anderson: We can't have camels here!!! It would make no sense!!

Peter Vaughn: It's not a problem. I've already enlisted the help of a guy named Ali. He's going to be running this subsidiary of the PMV Ranch here in Jordan.

Sadie Anderson: ... Subsidiary??

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. The camels and some of the mules and donkeys that are in better condition will be staying here. We'll be renting them out like before, only they'll be better cared for. Ali's good for that. We'll be splitting the profits 50/50.

Sadie Anderson: ... You've really thought of everything.

Peter Vaughn: Eh, nobody can think of EVERYTHING, but I've got this bow wrapped up pretty well as far as I can tell. I'll let you know when I know more about the travel accommodations of the livestock. We're doing well, Sadie. Take a deep breath. The PMV Ranch is going international, that's all. I'll talk to you later, okay? Goodbye.

~For a second, there's a bit of sputtering on the other line, as if Sadie wants to say more, but Vaughn is already disconnecting the call. He looks back around, noticing an officer heading towards his still-running truck. Vaughn hurries over to him, making sure to reveal himself as soon as the officer turns around.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me. I was wondering... my previous ride over here is, uh, occupied... and I was hoping that maybe you could give me a ride back to where the SCW wrestlers are staying? I'd be extremely appreciative.

~The officer agrees, since he's headed that way anyway, so Vaughn goes around to the passenger seat. He takes a second to look out at the pens, spotting a particular camel that's watching him... and apparently spitting in his direction. Vaughn smirks.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, I'm glad to never see you again, too, camel.

~Vaughn then gets into the truck and it pulls away, leaving the area behind. We fade out.~


14
Climax Control Archives / Samples & Success - A Collaboration By The Saviors
« on: June 16, 2023, 08:25:16 PM »
~As the camera comes up, we see what appears to be the inside of a glass door. We’re close enough to the lettering that we can’t quite read what’s on the door; plus, it’s reversed. But we can see the two figures approaching from outside of the shop. The first to step up onto the curb is Kim Pain. She’s followed by her Saviors ally, “The Mechanic” Peter Vaughn. The two uncomfortably come up to the door, with Peter, showing some manners for once, opening it for Kim. They step inside, looking around the entire area.~

Peter Vaughn: Dear God…

~The camera slowly spins around, showing that the two wrestlers appear to have entered a wedding-themed store. There is a lot of white throughout, including various picture displays of successful weddings of the past. Tables are set up to the side, with versions of wedding snacks and wedding place settings placed alongside them. To the side, there’s another couple already going through samples of some of the good, grinning like mad at each other as they take turns feeding each other the delicious treats. Across the way, a wedding chapel display has been set up, apparently to help a couple decide on their decorations for the big day. All-in-all, it’s a lot to take in. Vaughn rubs a hand across his head, before looking back at Kim.~

Peter Vaughn: You know… I went to Hell last month.

~Vaughn nods to himself, as if this is common knowledge, as well as a perfectly legitimate thing to say while in a store like this.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say, it didn’t look like this. It was more fire and brimstone than art and decor. But, y’know… if I had to describe Hell… this still wouldn’t be that far off.

Kim Pain: I am sure it is as close to hell as we can get up here. It looks like a unicorn barfed all over that sector over there..

~Kim had the full body shivers from this place and she was glad that they were only supposed to do some catering but even for this she had doubts now.~

Kim Pain: Don’t ya leave me behind here…

~The owner of the store had come to greet them and if there was ever a perfect example of a Karen. This woman was it. Looking at Kim and Peter like a total snob.~

Karen: I think you two have come to the wrong place.

~Kim snarled a bit at the attitude.~

Kim Pain: We have an appointment. The Riddle-Penston wedding. My fiance could not make it so I brought my tag-team partner instead.

~Kim pulled Peter closer to her because she already disliked this Karen. The woman is still eyeing Peter with distaste, most likely because he still came dressed to this event wearing his favorite style of coveralls. Peter, for his part, is also taking in this Karen’s outfit, shaking his head at the excessive amount of fake jewelry and make-up applied.~

Peter Vaughn: If you want to default their deposit and give it back to them, by all means. But you’d be making a major mistake…

~The woman stares at Peter for a moment, still trying to decide if this isn’t just a practical joke from one of her staff. But, seeing as how there’s no laughter, she shrugs with a sigh and directs them over towards one of the tables.~

Kim Pain: Oh this pink has got to go. There is no way we are having pink at our wedding. Or white.. Or cream colored.

~The woman looks at Kim with something close to disgust written on her face. Especially when Kim strips the table of the pink and white linen tossing them on another table. The plain black table underneath was filled with the gold accents and Kim sighed.~

Kim Pain: Much better. Can you imagine Cyrus in a pink wedding setting…

~The woman stood there looking at Kim like a fish, mouth opening and closing...~

Kim Pain: Peter what do you think?

Peter Vaughn: Right now? I’m unable to stop myself from thinking about Cyrus in a pink wedding gown… because I thought that’s what you were going to say. And now the thought is trapped in my head…

~Peter shakes his head back and forth, as if trying to toss the thought out of his head. He then sighs, before looking back at the table.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say, this table looks better this way. Never saw a need for tablecloths. It was just another item you’d have to wash at the end of the meal.

~After a moment, Vaughn looks up at the still stunned woman, raising his eyebrows.~

Peter Vaughn: Well? We haven’t got all day. What else have you got to show us? Oh, that’s not pink, or white, or cream colored?

~No words come out of Karen’s lips. She just shudders for a second, before turning and heading to the back, likely to try and figure a way out of this nightmare. Vaughn sits back in the chair, shaking his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Customer service just isn’t what it used to be. So, Kim, about our match…

Kim Pain: Ariana and Carter right. I know Ari is good, and Carter is no slouch either but how well they can work together is a mystery to me. Ari has the attention span of a fruit fly.. She is a total sweetheart but oh my god is she easily distracted. We train together regularly as it is.. We have known each other and worked together before. We go in and kick ass...

~The Karen had returned with a simple black tray with some of the smallest snacks Kim had ever seen. She groaned at the sight of it.~

Kim Pain: You know that the guest list is about 20 wrestlers right. One of these trays would not fill them up for 10 minutes.. One of these trays each that is.

~Oh the look of disgust intensified at the commentary of the snacks. And Kim just raised an eyebrow at this.~

Kim Pain: We will want the size of the portions to be at least 4 times as big.

~Ignoring Karen Kim turned to Peter and grabbing one of the snacks which looked like a fancy little salami.~

Kim Pain: Team Go.. They can be a good opponent for the both of us. Carter is one of the most underrated superstars on the roster. He is a bit extra but he is a total sweetheart. Inside the ring he has had some knock downs and was only recently cleared to compete again after he was attacked.  Ari.. She is a tiny little thing but fast and has a quick mind.

Peter Vaughn: I can’t say I know that much about Ariana. I suppose some respect is due for her holding the Women’s Roulette Title for a time, much like I’m staying the reigning Men’s Roulette Champion. But one reign does not a career make. As for Carter, we’ve already fought here in SCW. Technically. Although if I’m being honest, I don’t feel like I had Carter’s… full attention.

~Vaughn reaches forward, looking at what might possibly be caviar on a cracker. He quickly puts it back down, before snatching a classic “pig in a blanket” variation. He takes a bite, his face showing some disdain as he looks into it.~

Peter Vaughn: What is that, lamb? A lamb sausage? Eh… I guess not terrible. Anyway, Carter looks like he’s been struggling since he came back. I’m sure he thought the tag division would be a blessing for him, at least until the other team bailed and the SCW staff made the right decision, giving the Saviors a slot. I’m hoping he’s going to feel a little bit more motivated in this one, what with having a partner and all. If he’s not, I’m afraid Ari’s going to have a lousy night. Actually, I probably will, too, since Carter wouldn’t be tagging in much.

~Kim nodded and grabbed another snack from the tray and it looked like a little puff pastry ball and when she took a bite out of it the disgust on her face was clear she was looking around for something where she could spit this out of her mouth. She found a little trashcan by the door and rushed over and spit out the supposed snack.~

Kim Pain: Goat’s cheese.. That is disgusting!

~Grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one go as she still shivered from the taste.~

Kim Pain: Okay.. I am seriously regretting this already.. This entire tray is a hell no… Moving on.. I am hoping Carter does tag himself in and he can be his true self again because the kid is definitely good.. Very talented.. I have seen him working with Whisper to get back on his feet and he is highly motivated and  talented when there is no crazy drama in his life.. Not too often but when he does he is on fire. Ari.. She is a scatterbrain.. Bit awkward at times.. Says crazy shit all the time..

~Still tasting the last snack she grabbed the bottle of water and poured herself another glass and filled one for Peter as well. The other couple was looking at them funny and they made a weird looking duo indeed. Peter in his coveralls and Kim in a very tight fitting pair of jeans and top.~

Kim Pain: I never been in the ring with Ariana.. I know her from the European tour mostly where we were dropped in the forest.. Bit of twitter interaction but that is it.

Peter Vaughn: Isn’t she supposed to be a Greek Angel? You know, it’s amazing how many angels and demons I’ve fought in the wrestling business. They’re really all over the place. You’d think it’d make them more dangerous, having wings and what not, but I guess that’s taking things too literal. I mean, honestly, from what I’ve seen of her, I’m extremely confident that you can annihilate her. She’s probably our best path forward to qualify for the Mixed Tag-Team Title Finals. That being said, if I get an opportunity to give Carter the Plunge, I’ll do it.

~Nearby, the other couple appears to be listening in, with the woman looking a little concerned at the talk of “Plunging” somebody. She is whispering to her fiance, saying that he should do something, but he’s already sized up Peter and decided not to do anything, a wise decision. Peter glances over their way, giving them a wave, before picking up another sample. He bites into it, then studies the half-eaten cookie for a second.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, that’s got a little coffee mixed in with the chocolate filling there. That’s not half bad. Caffeine and sugar, a righteous combination.

~He looks around for a sample for Kim, but doesn’t see one, so he gets up, walking over to the other table. The couple freezes, looking shocked, as Peter reaches across them.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me.

~Peter then grabs one of their samples, bringing it back over to his partner and setting it in front of her. The woman looks ready to lose it, but her fiance is still pleading for patience.~

Peter Vaughn: I’d try a couple of those variations. They might have possibilities for later in the evening.

~Kim picked up the cookie biting into it and agreed with Peter on the taste of coffee and chocolate being a winner.~

Kim Pain: You are right, they are good but how good of an idea is it to have a house full of wrestlers on sugar and caffeine?

Peter Vaughn: A fair point.

~The word wrestlers made the couple freeze again and they quickly looked away from the dynamique duo that is the Saviors tag team of Kim and Peter. Karen showed up and looked down her nose again which was starting to annoy the hell out of Kim.~

Kim Pain: Excuse me Miss..

Karen: My name is Karen..

Kim Pain: How fitting.. This tray is no good. The only tasty thing I would like to eat again was the coffee chocolate cookie. Other than that it won’t work for our guests or for myself and my fiance. And if you do not want my business I can take it elsewhere. We may have a small party but you would need to quadruple it in the amount of food served. I may be a wrestler Ma’am.. But I know when someone is looking down on us.. And we make 10 maybe even 20 times what you make..

~Kim hates to boast like that but she was done with the looks of disdain.~

Kim Pain: So are we going to be treated properly or will I be taking my 5 grand deposit back and find someone else who does not mind catering to big eaters.

~Karen flushed and grabbed the tray and hurried to the back. Kim snarled at the lady looking her way with terrified wide eyes.~

Kim Pain: I am sorry Peter now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?  Ah yes.. You were confident in my abilities. Dude you know I always believed in you and I know you got your side of the match covered. And with us training together more often now. We will be a team to take notice of..

Peter Vaughn: Definitely. The work’s already begun on bringing back the strong name of the Saviors, with my holding of the Roulette Championship. Things will only get more clear when you and I storm through all of the competition and claim those Mixed Tag-Team Titles. It’s been a dream of mine for a while to finally hold tag belts in my career, one of the few holes in my resume as a professional wrestler. I think this time? You and I? We’re going to be golden.

~He gives the table in front of them a smack, rattling it, as he smiles in anticipation of their future triumphs. Beside them, it’s beginning to look like another wedding might be in trouble, as the bride is furious with her groom’s inaction. They are bitterly complaining to each other, already arguing like an old married couple. They’re loud enough that both Kim and Peter look over at them.~

Peter Vaughn: You two mind keeping it down? We’re trying to make some big decisions for a wedding and a match over here.

~The bride, apparently having had enough, angrily grabs one of their remaining samples, a pastry of some kind. Who knows what it could be filled with, the way this tasting has been going. It doesn’t matter to her, as she angrily chucks it right at Peter… with Kim effortlessly catching it before it lands.~

Kim Pain: Bad idea bridezilla..

~Kim gets to her feet and slowly walks over to their table. The bride looking scared and growing more scared with each step Kim takes while the groom is focused on Kim’s boobs. His bride to be sees this and whacks him across the arm and points at Kim coming right for her.~

Kim Pain: We were having a pleasant conversation before you so rudely interrupted us.. Now let me introduce myself. I am Kimberly Pain.. The name is not a gimmick it is what I deliver.. And that right there is the current reigning and defending SCW Roulette Champion Mister Peter Vaughn. We are tag team partners and we are discussing business matters while he helps me pick out what is actually edible in this place. Do you have a problem with us? I mean you tried to throw this at my partner..

~The woman slowly shakes her head.. No..~

Kim Pain: I didn’t think so. Now while I go back to my partner you two can settle this properly or brawl but take it outside there are people trying to have a decent conversation here.

~Kim walked back to their table with that extra little sway in her step and it was not long until a vicious slapping sound was heard. Kim sat down at the table and glanced over at where the couple was sitting. The bride was gone and the groom sat there with his hand pressed against his cheek.~

Kim Pain: Now where were we.. oh right! We are golden.. With every match we have we will be getting closer and closer to being golden for sure. I mean.. Individually we are great.. I see no reason for us not to be great together.

Peter Vaughn: I mean, it’s all but guaranteed. It’s a super team. We may be facing Team Go, but we’re clearly going to be Team Gold. It all comes down to confidence. I don’t think Ari and Carter have enough of it. They’re almost surely coming into this match thinking that they don’t stand a chance. And yes, they’re correct, but you can’t go into a fight with those kinds of negative thoughts.

~Vaughn reaches over, grabbing one of the nearby mugs. He takes a drink to clear his palate, wincing as he does so.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, that’s disgusting, whatever it is.

~He slides the mug away from him, sloshing some of the brownish liquid onto the table.~

Peter Vaughn: Now it’s true. I am coming off my first singles loss in SCW, and I know a lot of people, including Washington, were predicting doom and gloom to come into play with my future here. But once you’re a veteran in this sport, a single loss doesn’t remove your confidence. I’m 1-1 now with old Washy, and there will be a third meeting soon enough. Right now, though, I’m still fired up with the thought of getting to have two matches at the same PPV. Talk about stacking the deck!

Kim Pain: Dude we are gonna be rocking the PPV that is for sure. But for now.. Do you see the crazy hairdo on that chick over there.. I bet you 10 bucks you can not get that goats cheese creampuff in that beehive..

~Kim smirked and held out the disgusting snack out and raised an eyebrow at Peter. She had already decided that she was not getting her catering done here. The food was meh.. The drinks disgusting and there was only 1 decent cookie in the entire taste testing.~

Kim Pain: Well partner? Can you?

~Vaughn can’t help but smirk. He’s never been one to turn down a challenge from anyone. He takes the creampuff from her, weighing it in his hand.~

Peter Vaughn: It’d be better if they had kept the weight distributed the same, but clearly they have no concept of perfection here.

~After a few seconds of aiming, Peter launches the creampuff with a strong throw, trying to keep it accurate. It doesn’t quite work, as the creampuff spins end over end… but it still manages to wedge itself into the back of the beehive, sticking there thanks to the leaking contents inside. The woman barely seems to notice, acting as if she just felt a fly buzzing around her. She finally turns, looking frustrated as she walks back over to their table with another large tray of samples. Many of these items look considerably less fancy, including what appears to be chicken nuggets, beef sticks, and a few small pies.~

Karen: We can make considerably more of these items… Miss.

~She reluctantly adds on the “Miss”, clearly not meaning it. She then turns away with a grumbling sound, moving towards where she expects her “better” couple to be. But the only one sitting there is the groom, who appears to be crying as he talks on the phone to someone. It’s possibly the bride, as he’s leaving a message, begging for another chance, saying that it’s all that woman’s fault. Slowly, Karen turns back around, looking back at Kim and Peter, who are both nonchalantly munching on wings. Vaughn raises one of the bones her direction.~

Peter Vaughn: Needs dipping sauce. Got any ranch?

~Karen, shaking with entitled rage, stomps over to them. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out an envelope, which she quickly throws into Kim’s lap.~

Karen: That’s your deposit. Now… Get… Out!!

~Kim and Peter glance at each other, neither budging out of their seats just yet.~

Peter Vaughn: But, what about these samples that you just had your chef back there work so hard on? You want them to go to waste?

~Karen leans heavily across the table, almost spitting as she responds to Peter.~

Karen: I don’t give a damn! NOW GET OUT!!

~As Karen sits there, seething, Peter glances over at Kim, who has casually picked up one of the pies in her hand.~

Peter Vaughn: It really would be a waste, wouldn’t it?

Kim Pain: It really would.

~Kim looks at the pie in her hand and smirked devilishly towards Peter. Karen is shaking in anger now but is getting visibly uncomfortable as Kim and Peter get up holding pies in their hands.~

Kim Pain: Food fight!!!

~Kim throws the pies as hard as she can towards Karen while Peter takes care of the man formerly known as the groom. How dare he blame them for that Bridezilla walk out after all. Karen screams as one of the cream pies hits her dead in the face. The second slammed into her chest the cream slowly sliding down into the blouse she was wearing. The food fight truly got underway when Karen and the groom started throwing food but Kim and Peter had already moved away from their table and while munching on an apple pie they walked out of the building.~

Kim Pain: I am thinking of a big ass cake that Kat makes for us and a BBQ after.. Sound good?

Peter Vaughn: You can never go wrong with a Kat cake. I’ve got a couple of nice BBQ grill set-ups I can have delivered, if you want.

~Behind them, the door flings open, with Karen stepping out.~

Karen: YOU… !!!

~The two halves of apple pie hit her at the same time in the face, sending her reeling back inside. The door shuts, but not before we hear a loud crash, most likely of Karen tripping back into one of the tables. A hysterical laughter follows, as the now ex-groom is sounding a little unstable. Kim and Peter, though, aren’t listening. They’re already heading towards the truck.~

Peter Vaughn: After eating all that terrible food, I feel like I need to get some training in. Shake some of it loose from my body before it tries to become a permanent resident. And hey, can’t hurt to keep prepping for AriCar, right?

~Kim nodded and opened the door to the truck to climb in.~

Kim Pain: Definitely need to work this crap out of my system too.. Oh BBQ tonight? We could ask Maria if she makes those badass wings and ribs.. I am pretty sure the entire HG will help us convince her if she needs it.. I can not believe those tiny bite snacks though. Who in the hell pays for that crap. I might be more motivated than ever to beat Aricari..

Peter Vaughn: Well, once we tear through them and move on to the PPV, you’ll be able to work out the finer details of the perfect BBQ reception. Oh, and the wedding, of course. And I look forward to being there, cheering you on.

Kim Pain: You got to be there.. I mean I need my wingman, my tag team partner right there with me.. But for now.. HG here we come and I am gonna tell Cyrus that he can forget about fancy catering bills they won’t be coming because that crap was horrible.

Peter Vaughn: Plus, you see how messy and disorganized that place was?

~Vaughn laughs as he puts the truck into gear, pulling out. They start to drive off, leaving behind the building they were just in. We can see the glass doors again, now with various ‘samples’ smeared across the windows. Inside, we can still hear hysterical shrieking and yelling, as the chaos continues inside. We slowly fade out.~

15
Climax Control Archives / Action & Inaction Can Both Have Consequences
« on: June 02, 2023, 11:47:15 PM »
~The camera comes up inside the darkened warehouse, a location we've been so many times this year for Peter Vaughn during this time in Sin City. This time, as the lights come up, we see a single wooden easel sitting in the middle of the room. There's a large piece of art positioned on it, but as the easel is set up facing away from us, we can't tell what's on it. You'd think the cameraman could just walk around and show it to us, but apparently that's not allowed in the current circumstances. At the very least, the cameraman waits as Peter Vaughn slowly walks out from the right, behind the art. He takes it in, smiling, before stepping forward towards us.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello there, Sin City. Hell of a ride it's been so far, hasn't it?

~Vaughn appears to be in a good mood tonight, but it's always hard to tell with him. He may smile, he may scowl, but the emotions never seem to reach his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I mean, let's face it, who else other than myself expected the impact I would have when I first ran out to help out Mac Bane? I'm betting a lot of the veterans here at SCW simply thought I was a gimmick, brought in to boost the Saviors and propel Mac, Goth, and Kenny's careers forward, among others. Nobody expected me to still be here in June, tearing things up and dominating the competition.

~At this, Vaughn reaches down, rubbing across his lower belly. Get your minds out of the gutter, he's shining up his Roulette Championship that he's wearing.~

Peter Vaughn: Certainly no one thought I would storm Into The Void and walk out with this beautiful championship. With that victory, I made my first real mark in the company, showing how I can elevate this gold to a new level. I added another notch in my climb upwards as a future Hall of Famer in the business. And yet... still, for some reason... I feel like people view me as the outsider.

~For a moment, Vaughn frowns, before his smile once again returns.~

Peter Vaughn: It probably doesn't help that so many of my allies have had some bad breaks as of late. I've been seen more as a solo artist, rather than a member in good standing of the Saviors. But that doesn't change the fact that I've been unbeatable in singles competition. And one of those wins... is pretty important for my immediate future here.

~With that, Vaughn steps over to the artwork, slowly turning the easel around. He makes sure it stays steady, finally allowing us to see the professional print from an SCW match. With "Blaze of Glory XI" etched in flames at the top, we're shown a still of Peter Vaughn in mid-rotation, about to land the standing moonsault that put away Jack Washington in their contest at the PPV.~

Peter Vaughn: This was an epic clash, showcasing my skills to the SCW PPV audience. It was also, apparently, a wake-up call for this man, Mr. Washington. Only a few weeks after this picture was taken, Washington won himself the SCW Internet Title in an unconventional way, pinning Alexander Raven during the Blast From The Past mixed tag tournament. This is why our match at the next Climate Control is actually a champion vs. champion battle for the fans.

~Vaughn studies the photo for a few moments, focusing on Washington's pained expression on the mat.~

Peter Vaughn: It's actually rather fascinating how often this seems to happen. There have been several times now where I score the pinfall victory over someone, and it seems to boomerang them forward into success. I suppose some still take a loss to a former janitor as an insult, and find new motivation to push forward in the sport. That's at least better than the ones who outright quit, at least. Washington took his defeat, and turned it into a boost to his career. Gotta admire him for that.

~The picture is suddenly moving, as Vaughn hauls it off the easel, looking at it with both hands.~

Peter Vaughn: It truly was an amazing night in my SCW career.

~Vaughn seems to admire it for a few more seconds before suddenly raising it in the air... and ripping it apart across his knee!! After a few more 'knee shots' leave the fabric of the art in tatters. Vaughn then flings it off to the side, out of sight.~

Peter Vaughn: But hey, that's all in the past, isn't it? It's not like this one's guaranteed to be a repeat. You have to think Washer is going to take this contest more seriously, seeing as how we're both showing ourselves to be pillars of SCW right now. So I'm not going into this expecting the same result. I'm expecting Wash has learned a few new tricks, and I'll have to break out a few of my own to work towards another victory. It's going to be an epic Round 2.

~Vaughn then turns back to the empty easel, patting it on the side.~

Peter Vaughn: And who knows? We might find ourselves another inspiring piece of art to display in the future.

~With a smirk, Vaughn turns and walks away. We stay on the empty easel for another several seconds before finally fading away.~


~The picture comes back up on what appears to be a closed-off room, possibly in a basement somewhere. At the very least, there are no windows, nothing to indicate what time of day it actually is. The main points of light are coming from a series of television monitors set up on the right side of the room. On each screen, we can see what looks like a shot from a security camera, many angled downwards to focus on a specific line of sight. Most appear to show a ranch setting, with cowboy hats being visible in many of the shots. The camera slowly readjusts, showing us one screen in particular: it appears to be a shot of a large entry space, presumably a business of some kind. We soon know exactly which one as Wyatt Bailey, a cattle dealer who had a confrontation with Vaughn a few weeks ago, walks into frame. He's talking with one of his associates, a larger man who regularly hits the weights, and we can hear their voices through the speakers.~

Wyatt Bailey: You've gotten the delivery sent off for the Four Horseshoe ranch, Butch?

Butch: Yes sir, they should be getting them within the day, assuming the driver doesn't get lost again.

Wyatt Bailey: Who's driving?

Butch: Dwight.

Wyatt Bailey: Damn. He's going to get lost. Tell me why I haven't fired him yet?

Butch: Because he's Marie's cousin.

Wyatt Bailey: *sigh* Damn it. Give him a call later, make sure he's at least in the right state, okay?

Butch: Sure, boss.

Wyatt Bailey: Now talk to me about what happened with the grass seeds. What went wrong?

Sadie Anderson: Oh my God! This is so boring!!

~The camera suddenly pulls back from the screen, showing us Sadie sitting in a computer chair, leaning backwards while running her hands through her hair. She shakes her head, looking over her shoulder.~

Sadie Anderson: This really isn't in my job description, Thomas. Why are we doing this again?

~The shot shifts again, this time spinning to show that Thomas Hill, the half-brother of Peter Vaughn, is standing a bit behind Sadie. He takes a sip from his mug, which could have anything from vodka to iced tea in it, before responding.~

Thomas Hill: You know what Peter wanted. He thought we'd find something incriminating by watching this footage, something we could use for Peter to negotiate a delivery of cattle for the PMV ranch.

Sadie Anderson: And by "negotiate", you mean...

Thomas Hill: Probably blackmail. But I don't want to know the details.

Sadie Anderson: You know, there ARE other cattle distributors we could use. If this guy doesn't want to work with us, why are we so determined to force our way in?

~Hill shrugs, taking another sip before answering.~

Thomas Hill: Bailey said no to Peter. You know that never goes over well.

Sadie Anderson: ... We need to work on that with him. There will always be people who say no in this business.

Thomas Hill: Maybe, but in any business Vaughn's ever been involved in, he's always found a way to turn that "no" into a "yes". Hard to see him changing that policy now.

~Sadie sighs, pushing back in front of the displays.~

Sadie Anderson: Well, I don't think he's going to get anything he can use here. We've been watching for days and days now, and all I've really learned is that this Bailey guy is a stickler for doing everything right.

Thomas Hill: Yep, he's a straight arrow, and apparently a loyal son of a bitch, too, the way he's sticking to his guns for his friend Judd.

Sadie Anderson: At this point, Thomas, we're just wasting our time. We're never going to get...

~There's a sudden slam from the speaker, surprising Sadie. She turns, looking back at the screen, where Wyatt Bailey has just brought his fist down on the nearby desk.~

Wyatt Bailey: I'm tired of this, Butch! You may be one of my best workers, but you get these damn fool notions in your head that your ways are better, and they just end up screwing everything up! I've done this job for over forty years now! I know how to get it done! You just need to listen, boy! You understand?

Butch: Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir.

Wyatt Bailey: Just get this fixed! Pronto!

~Bailey storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Butch watches him go, straightening up in frustration afterwards.~

Sadie Anderson: He IS a yeller, isn't he?

Thomas Hill: An old yeller.

~Sadie turns, just staring at Thomas, as he chuckles to himself. He notices Sadie's expression, though, and coughs, going back for some more liquid refreshment. Sadie shakes her head and turns back, even as Butch meets up with another of the ranch hands.~

Cowboy: You alright?

Butch: Course I'm alright. I've taken plenty of his chewing outs in the past, it's not like one more makes any kind of difference. So is everything set?

~The cowboy looks around in either direction to make sure no one else is close. He neglects, unfortunately, to note the camera, possibly thinking it wasn't powerful enough to pick up their voices. But Bailey apparently spared no expense.~

Cowboy: We've got the old Mustang rigged. When old man Bailey goes for his Saturday drive in the country, he's guaranteed to have himself a little 'accident'.

Butch: Good. It's about time we put him out to pasture. I should have been running this place a long time ago.

Cowboy: You know you'll have the support of the boys.

Butch: Damn straight I will. No one would expect that "loyal Butch" would do anything to his 'mentor', the old fool. I just wish I could be there when it happens.

~The two men laugh, as the cowboy walks off. Butch, meanwhile, leans on the desk while giving an evil sneer in the direction Bailey had gone.~

Butch: Your time is up, grandpa. I'm sick of you calling me Butch. It's William, damn it!

~Butch, er, William then storms away, leaving the room empty. Flabbergasted, Sadie turns and makes eye contact with Thomas, who has apparently been so stunned, he's allowed his mug to lean forward, spilling out what appears to be... milk? A strange choice, to be sure, but Sadie's not concerned with that right now.~

Sadie Anderson: Call Peter and get him here. Now.

~Thomas nods, putting the mug to the side and getting out his phone. He heads for the stairs, since cell reception isn't that great in basements, as Sadie turns back to the set-up, working to make a copy of everything they just saw. We cut away.~


I gotta say, I'm always a lover of surprises.

Take this upcoming match, for instance. I thought Washey and I had already concluded our business and gone our separate ways. After all, he moved on to the Internet Championship, and I sealed the deal on getting the Roulette Title around my waist. It didn't seem like we were likely to cross paths anytime soon. And yet, here we are, booked in a non-title Clash of the Champions main event at Climate Control.

How'd you take that news, Wash? How'd it go over?

Were you excited, knowing that you had a chance to avenge your PPV loss to me? Were you anxious, realizing that you could end up 0-2 against The Mechanic, squashing your recent momentum against that Raven guy? Were you constipated? That... really has nothing to do with our match, you need to be careful about what you're eating, friend. Greens are necessary for a clean bowel movement.

But let's make our way out of anatomy and talk about the truth.

I'm willing to bet you felt a swell of several emotions when you found out about this contest, because let's face it: you now have everything to gain from it. If I knock you on your back once again and get the quick 1-2-3, everyone will say: Well, yeah, we knew that was coming. I won't get as much glory from it as I did the first time, doing it in front of an extremely active live audience. Even though you're wearing that pretty gold there that I'm told might be on a higher level than mine, a fact I disagree with, it just wouldn't be the same taking you down a second time.

But hey, if lightning strikes and you're able to get that quick roll-up or surprise me with a move I didn't see coming? You get all the praise. You beat the unbeatable machine that had been tearing up Sin City for months now. You'd get to say, maybe that first win was just a fluke... and it'd be hard for me to argue it. After all, we'd have one win each, and we'd have to go to a tiebreaker in the future. And hell, the way our careers are going right now, that tiebreaker might take place for that World Championship.

Yeah, I see you over there Michael. I'm still keeping an eye on you for the future.

So yeah, I'd say all the pressure should be on me. You're the one with nothing to lose, other than a little more pride. But you know, I'm not really feeling the pressure, either. I mean, my championship is not on the line. I've already added your name to the List of the Vanquished. I don't even get a guaranteed title shot against you if I do end up squashing you. So why should I be concerned that I could be defeated at Climate Control?

It seems to me that I don't have anything to lose, either.

Oh, sure, there's the winning streak and the pin streak. The boys on commentary like to make a big deal about that. But for me? It's all about moving on to the next match, the next glory. I'm making my way up the ladder, and if I hit a missing rung? It happens. I mean, hey, I lost a shocker in TPW, losing my championship there, but I kept moving forward, and now I'm basically running that joint, and will be getting my title back sooner rather than later.

I've stumbled in the XWF, and yet found my way to more gold. In the WGWF, aggravation just led me to win the West Coast Rumble. I've had teammates let me down, like here in the Blast From The Past Tournament, and still, I'm on the path to achieving even more success.

So I'm not worried about taking a loss to you, Wash. I'm also not concerned about gaining another win over you.

I guess you could say that I'm a little ambivalent on the matter.

But that's not going to keep me from bringing my A game to the show. After all, when all is said and done, it's all about the next match. And if the next match involves me shredding down the ego of another champion,  then so be it.

Just know, Wash, that it's nothing personal, and really, I'm not going to get too much satisfaction out of wiping you out again. I mean, they'll be some satisfaction. I'll have a good time. But overall? It's going to be another night of the Mechanic taking care of business.

Afraid surprises will likely be minimal, boyo.


Butch: Your time is up, grandpa. I'm sick of you calling me Butch. It's William, damn it!

~As the man storms out of view once again, we see that Peter Vaughn is now sitting there, watching the footage. He sits with his hands in a steeple position, taking it all in. As the room's now empty, Vaughn turns to look back at Sadie and Thomas, both of whom look a little anxious.~

Peter Vaughn: So is that it?

Sadie Anderson: What do you mean, "is that it"? That's not enough??

Peter Vaughn: I'm just making sure there was nothing else you wanted to show me, that's all.

~Sadie looks over incredulously at Thomas, who clears his throat before responding.~

Thomas Hill: Well, Peter, we kind of thought that'd be more than enough there for you. It seems clear that this Butch guy...

Peter Vaughn: William.

Thomas Hill: What?

Peter Vaughn: He wants to be called William.

Thomas Hill: ... Okay, WILLIAM. This William guy is planning to take out Mr. Bailey and make it look like an accident! He's going to steal Bailey's company straight out from under him! Literally from his cold, dead hands!

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. That seems to be what he's doing, alright.

~Vaughn nods, showing little concern, which seems to bother both Sadie & Thomas.~

Sadie Anderson: ... And what, we're just going to let this happen??

Thomas Hill: At the very least, we need to report it to the police or something. We can't just let this happen!

Peter Vaughn: And what, exactly, would you be telling them, Thomas? What would be your proof?

Thomas Hill: I... I mean, the video...

Peter Vaughn: You mean the illegally obtained video that we should have no access to? That video?

~That causes Thomas to pause, as he scratches at his head.~

Thomas Hill: Well... well, we'll just say that someone... overheard something... at the bar, maybe.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, heresy! Yeah, that always works out in the eyes of the law.

Sadie Anderson: Okay then, Peter, what SHOULD we do? How do we stop this?

Peter Vaughn: Are you sure we want to?

~There's a shocked silence in the room, as if a quiet bomb just went off, deafening everyone. But after a few seconds, Thomas speaks up.~

Thomas Hill: I don't understand, Peter...

Peter Vaughn: Well, it's rather simple. I want to do some cattle business with Mr. Bailey, but Mr. Bailey has, so far, turned me down. Maybe this William fellow would be more receptive to my offerings of double the price per head of cattle. He's certainly not going to have any loyalty to Judd or anyone else in the Union.

Sadie Anderson: You're... you're talking about just letting a man die, Peter. A death we could prevent.

Peter Vaughn: No, Sadie. I'm simply weighing all the options.

Sadie Anderson: I can't believe this! I thought... I thought you were better than this, Pe-... Mr. Vaughn.

~Shaking with undisguised fury, Sadie turns and stomps away, heading up the stairs. Thomas watches her go, then turns back to Vaughn, wanting to get through to his half-brother.~

Thomas Hill: We can't just let this happen, Peter. We have to do something.

Peter Vaughn: Why? With one flick of my finger, this video is erased... and this problem takes care of itself.

Thomas Hill: And... and you want to win that way?

Peter Vaughn: ... It's not about winning or losing. It's about business.

Thomas Hill: It's also about having control over a situation, Peter. Even if you don't take any action here, just letting it all play out... there are consequences. You just saw one pounding up the stairs. There will likely be more.

~Vaughn sighs, sitting forward in the chair. He reaches for the buttons, his finger hovering over the delete key. But he then rewinds instead, going back to where Bailey is reading the riot act to Butch/William. Vaughn studies it again for a few moments.~

Peter Vaughn: He really does sound just like my father...

Thomas Hill: ... What?

Peter Vaughn: This man. Bailey. He reminds me a lot of him, as he got older.

~Thomas chooses not to comment, letting the moment play out. Vaughn finally pushes away from the desk, turning and facing his half-brother.~

Peter Vaughn: Alrighty then. I suppose we'll have to decide on a Plan B.

Thomas Hill: Okay, and what would that require?

Peter Vaughn: Not much. Just unrestricted access to the garage where Bailey's Mustang is located, and a few hours for me to repair a problem or two.

Thomas Hill: You'd... you'd just repair the car? Like that?

Peter Vaughn: They don't call me the Mechanic for nothing. I mean, sure, I'm not a genius with automobiles, but I doubt they hid their handiwork that well.

Thomas Hill: Okay... okay... we can work with this. At the very least, it's a step in the right direction. I'll go see what I can arrange, okay?

Peter Vaughn: Sure, Thomas. You do that.

~Thomas hurries away, heading up the stairs, while Vaughn once again plays the footage forward, showing the evil grin of Butch/William zoomed in on the screen. Vaughn studies it, thinking it over, before flipping it backwards to bring up another shot of Bailey's face.~

Peter Vaughn: Maybe this can prove worthwhile, old man. Or maybe, just maybe, we'll find ourselves sticking to Plan A after all.

~Vaughn's hand again moves towards the delete button. But after a second, he saves it instead, moving it to a flash drive. Vaughn pops the drive out, pocketing it, before then getting up and leaving the room. He leaves behind a black screen on the main monitor, possibly not a good omen for the future. We fade out.~




16
Climax Control Archives / Possession Is 9/10ths Of The Law...
« on: May 19, 2023, 07:24:02 PM »
~The warehouse where we normally see Peter Vaughn is oddly lit up this time, allowing us to see practically into every corner of the building. Most of the corners, though, appear to be empty, at least with our viewpoint. The only item that seems noticeable is a strange, liquid-like line that seems to go down the center of the warehouse. The camera focuses on it, as, off-camera, we hear the striking of a match. Suddenly, the liquid, which is apparently flammable, ignites in the distance, with a wave of fire coming right at the camera. Smartly, the cameraman jumps to the side, while still managing to record the flames as they pass by. There's a reason this man gets paid the big bucks.~

~As the cameraman turns, we see the line of fire head straight at a large structure of some sort. As soon as the first lick of flame hits, the entire structure goes up, or at least portions inside of it. The inferno flares upwards, igniting, as we can see it through the gaps carved into the structure. These gaps, when you step back far enough, become clear as letters. The word "CHAMP" is spelled out in flames, glowing inside the warehouse, likely putting off an incredible wave of heat. The cameraman focuses on the word for a few more seconds, then finally turns back to his right... where we see "The Mechanic" Peter Vaughn casually leaning against the wall, his SCW Roulette Championship wrapped around his waist. He smirks at the camera, then taps the belt.~

Peter Vaughn: What do you think, Sin City? Too subtle?

~Vaughn laughs, before straightening up off the wall while looking towards the lens, the glow of the flames still evident on one side of him, casting some wild shadows.~

Peter Vaughn: I told all of you when I first appeared here in Sin City that I'd be wearing gold someday, sooner rather than later. I'm betting some of you out there didn't believe me, but here we are. I'm now holding Goth's favorite championship, the Roulette Title. It's gold that has an impressive history, worn by such greats as Mac Bane, Griffin Hawkins, and, well, I'm sure some of the others were pretty good as well. But now, it's got an accolade it's never had before: it's been held by the greatest wrestler in the world today, "The Mechanic" Peter Vaughn.

~Vaughn unbuckles the belt, holding it up and staring at it for a few more seconds. Then, surprisingly, he drops it on the floor, stepping away from it.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, that gold doesn't matter at the moment, because I've already been assigned a match for Climate Control, and wouldn't you know it? It's non-title. Honestly, that's probably one of my least favorite words in the wrestling lexicon. But I get it. The powers that be didn't think my next opponent was worthy of the title shot, and considering it was set to be ol' Milo again, I suppose I can see their point. It's not like losing in the main event should give you a boost towards another belt, right?

~Vaughn turns and walks over to the still-burning structure, although the flames certainly seem much lower now. The fuel may already be running out.~

Peter Vaughn: I have to admit, I actually was looking forward to facing Milo for a third time, if only to put a few things behind me and get a strong, convincing win on him. But the "card is always subject to change", and you just have to roll with it. So here I am, fresh off my second Pay Per View victory in a row, wrestling against a returning challenger, someone who had some success in the Underground, but not as much on the main show.

~Vaughn moves to the right, reaching to the side, where he grabs a fire extinguisher that was sitting there. He pops off the safety switch with precision, showing that he's definitely used one of these on more than one occasion.~

Peter Vaughn: HB Carter. You've been granted this chance to shine on your return, but I can't say they had your best interests at heart. I've already beaten down two former SCW Roulette Champions and one former SCW Heavyweight Champion to reach where I am today. I've proven my worth to the Saviors, earning my first piece of gold after less than 3 months in the company. How long have you been around, anyway? Well, that's not important.

~The wrestler turns towards the structure, blasting off some sodium bicarbonate towards the flames that are left. They're quickly snuffed out, with Vaughn finishing with a few more shots in the corners. He then tosses the extinguisher away, giving us a loud clanging sound when it hits the ground nearby.~

Peter Vaughn: What's important, HB, is that I'm the hottest commodity SCW has ever seen... and it's going to be extremely tough for anyone straight off the injury list to be able to cool me off. Have you got what it takes to hang with me? Or are you going to end up like Milo, Washington, Malachi, & Barnhart... and get burned?

~Vaughn snaps his fingers. Miraculously, the fire inside the structure rears back up again, engulfing the gaps around the letters. This time, Vaughn doesn't make any move to put it out. He walks away, collecting his newly-won championship, and departs, leaving the tall flames to grow even higher. The cameraman slowly beats a retreat as the picture fades out.~


David Schoeder: Call to order! Call to order, everyone! That means shut the hell up, Doc!

~The view comes back into focus as we're once again back at the meeting area for the Dallas Cattle Union. The head of the union, David Schoeder, is shown sitting in the center of the main table once again, pointing to one of the guys who was still standing and talking. There's a bit of laughter as the man known as Doc nods and walks back to his seat good-naturedly. Satisfied, Schoeder turns back to the main group.~

David Schoeder: Alright, folks, so the votes have been tabulated. We have the results of the request from the PMV Ranch made a few weeks ago. I'm proud to say that Mr. Peter Vaughn HAS earned enough votes to be granted a first-level cattle license, allowing him to join our union and become a thriving member in the best field in the world today! Congratulations, Mr. Vaughn: you're a cattle rancher!

~There are a lot of cheers from the crowd as Peter Vaughn stands up, nodding and smiling at those around him. Of course, there's also a large contingent that looks extremely displeased. It's uncertain how close the vote was for Vaughn's license, but you can almost guarantee it wasn't unanimous. One person in particular, Judd Harrison, is shown storming out of the room, obviously disgusted with the result. Vaughn doesn't pay him any mind, shaking a few more hands that are offered to him. He then steps up to the table, where Schoeder hands him a mic.~

Peter Vaughn: I just wanted to say thank you for everyone who voted to approve my application. I swear that I won't let any of you down, and I'll work with anyone who wants to make some money over the next few decades. Thank you again.

~Vaughn hands back the mic as there's another round of applause. Vaughn then steps away, nodding to everyone before heading out the door. He goes down the hall, to where two people are seated, waiting for him.~

Thomas Hill: So, what's the verdict?

Sadie Anderson: Are we in the cattle business or not?

~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders, then smiles. He pats his half-brother Thomas on the shoulder.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course the vote went our way. I'm surprised you guys doubted it.

Thomas Hill: You... you got it?? The license??

Peter Vaughn: We're now certified as the PMV Cattle Ranch.

~Thomas gives a cheer, excited, while Sadie happily jumps up and lands in Vaughn's arms, giving him a celebratory hug. The hug seems to last a little longer than necessary, but she finally lets go, a little red in her cheeks as she steps away. Vaughn, of course, barely seems to notice, as he's still smiling down at the paperwork he brought out with him. Thomas, meanwhile, shakes his head, then puts an arm around his half-brother's shoulders.~

Thomas Hill: Let's go celebrate!

Peter Vaughn: And I assume the ranch will be financing it again?

Thomas Hill: As your accountant, I can assure you that business meals are easy to write off come tax time. Now let's go!

~Thomas goes to put his other arm around Sadie's shoulders, but she deftly maneuvers herself in front of them, leading the way out of the area. As they leave, we can see Judd Harrison step out from a nearby room, glaring after them. We cut away.~


There are some people that just can't stand when you're a winner.

I wonder if you're going to be one of those people, HB. I've researched you some to prepare for this contest, but I can't quite decide if you're a sore loser or not. I guess we'll find out after Climate Control, won't we? Assuming I win, of course, but then, I always assume that's going to happen, whether it eventually does or not. I tend to be a pretty positive guy about my chances to annihilate the competition.

You know, usually, during this time, I make up lots of silly nicknames and goofy bits for my opponents to get annoyed by. But I can't say I've faced someone with the name "Helluva Bottom" before. I get the feeling that my usual tactics there won't bother you at all, considering you gave yourself that name. So I'm just going to stick with HB and move forward, okay?

So, HB, I searched through the SCW title records, looking for your name. I found a Kevin Carter as a former SCW Heavyweight Champ. I found a Brooklyn Carter and a Cadence Carter. But I didn't find an HB Carter. I was a little disappointed, until I realized I could also check in the lower-ranked fed, Sin City Underground... and you were all over that, weren't you? I don't know how much clout is given to someone who won championships there, because that place was pretty much deceased by the time I started showing up.

But you know what? We'll count it. Just so I can say I've throttled another former champion.

Now, I expect you to give me the same props, since I've currently got a championship that you've never been able to gain. I know you're probably more focused on Austin James Mercer, due to him putting your ass on a shelf for a month. You also seem like you want to get your hands on Michael Harris, which, let's face it, almost everyone in Sin City is interested in that. But all eyes on me, HB. You being distracted is going to make this contest be over WAY too fast.

You'd better be coming into this one thinking it could be your greatest test in wrestling so far, facing the stiffest competition you could ever see across the ring from you. You'd better not be thinking of me as some sort of "warm up", expecting that you'll shove me aside in your pursuit of vengeance. Because if you do that... I'm going to bash the back of your head in, just out of spite.

But we don't have to do that, do we? You're going to respect my skills in the ring, and I'm going to give you the chance to prove you're exceptional enough to come out from the Underground.

And then, when I earn the 1-2-3 after a hard-fought battle, maybe I'll give you some encouragement. Maybe I'll show you some respect. Just earn it, HB. Prove to me that you're worthy enough to be competing in that squared circle.

And then, assuming you come through as a competitor, even when I'm standing there victorious, I'm make sure not to be a sore winner. I promise.


~The shot comes up on the PMV Ranch, Vaughn's new pride and joy. The shot, clearly from a drone, shows how the ranch has expanded, with a new line of fences set up to create a cattle pen on the south side of the ranch. The drone drops down, getting us a closer view, before turning and showing Peter Vaughn standing next to the fence, with one foot up on it. He shakes it back and forth, nodding in appreciation of its sturdiness, before turning away. Sadie is seen walking up to him as we join them in a more standard shot.~

Sadie Anderson: So do you think the workmanship will hold up?

Peter Vaughn: Your guys did a good job, Sadie. I'm confident that this will work. I'm less confident in letting the cattle graze on the back fields, but we'll figure out some way of keeping track of them once they arrive.

Sadie Anderson: You really are gung ho about this cattle business, aren't you? Why are you so motivated? You're a world-famous wrestler now, and it's not like you grew up out in the country. I still don't get why you've fought so hard for this.

~Vaughn opens his mouth, then closes it again, thinking things over before he just says the first thing on his mind. After a moment, he collects his thoughts and continues.~

Peter Vaughn: Honestly, Sadie, the first reason was because a ton of people told me I couldn't do it. I never take that well. I've been a competitive force for years now, and the best way to get under my skin is to tell me I can't pull it off. But if you want to know why I bought the ranch in the first place... I guess it's because my dad used to dream about stuff like that.

Sadie Anderson: Really? You know, you don't talk about your father much. I know he was a janitor in the city, and you followed in his footsteps. So he dreamed about getting outdoors and away from custodial life?

Peter Vaughn: Isn't that what most people do, Sadie? Whatever world you're stuck in, you always think about how to escape it and do something else. I've been luckier than most. I've gotten to choose a variety of different paths. My dad, though? He was pretty much trapped... because of me.

~Even as Vaughn delivers the line with basically no emotion, it still hits a chord for Sadie, as she once again wonders what's hidden behind the mask that Vaughn normally wears. In the last year since she first met him, she's rarely seen anything behind it, and despite all her best efforts, she's never been able to pierce Vaughn's emotional walls... despite wanting to, more than anything.~

Sadie Anderson: You can't blame yourself for your father's profession. Wasn't he a janitor even before you were born?

Peter Vaughn: Depends on how you look at it. I think he took it as a side job when he got married, hoping to return to college... and then, well, it never happened. Maybe if Mom hadn't left him, he could've found a way out. Now, he's gone, but maybe he's living through me a little bit. Who knows, right?

Sadie Anderson: Yes, Peter... who knows...

~As Sadie turns away, looking out at the newly built cattle pen, Vaughn's phone rings with the tune of "This Time It's Different". It's a very popular download for ringtones, or so I've heard. Vaughn answers it, stepping away.~

Peter Vaughn: Vaughn here. Yes? We're expecting a delivery in the next two... what do you mean? Really? And who do I have to thank for this? Okay... they're located nearby Dallas, right? Okay, give me the address. I'll pay them a visit.

~Vaughn hangs up the phone, glancing over at the empty cattle pen again and shaking his head.~

Sadie Anderson: What's going on?

Peter Vaughn: It never gets any easier, does it?

~Vaughn turns and walks away, heading to where his beautiful truck, Gabriella, is parked. Sadie, having no clue what's happened, just watches him go, walking away from her once more.~


It IS interesting that I've yet to have what anyone would call an "easy" match in Sin City Wrestling.

I know in some organizations I've joined, I've immediately been fed the scrubs, the dregs of the roster. Those men and women who haven't come to the realization yet that they shouldn't be competing in the professional ranks. I think I've helped more than one realize that their future belongs in some other field, if I left them any future at all.

But I'll admit, Sin City hasn't been a smooth ride, despite my many victories. I've had to fight hard for every step up the ladder I've made, and that even includes people like Malpractice and the Barnie. I mean, neither one backed down, even when it became clear that they had no chance against a man like me in a Ladder match. For all my insults towards them, hey, they didn't run, so good for them. Maybe Malachi even IS a future champion someday.

And now, instead of resting on my laurels after a great Roulette victory, here you are, HB, my next opponent, and I'm certainly not overlooking you. I get the feeling that you could be an intense fight, with your unique style in the ring. I'm not going to underestimate your talent. I know, I know, people probably comment on your looks or actions, but you know... look at me. The usual comments I get is "He's just a janitor" or something, being judged before they've even got their face kicked in.

So I won't be doing that to you, HB. I'm just going to stick to the facts that you've yet to win a championship in Sin City, and that you need to find a way to earn that way up the ladder once again. After, of course, I've defeated you.

You see, I've got the Saviors' good name on my shoulders. I need to keep getting the victories, keep promoting how great our stable is until guys like Kenny, Mac, Goth, and the others can get back on their feet. That means this one's not just a run-of-the-mill match to me. It's an important contest. So I'll be coming at you with both barrels, not holding back in the least.

I'm hoping that's not too much for you, and that you'll be able to stand toe-to-toe with me. It'd be a real bummer if I land a knockout blow in less than five minutes. I mean, sure, you can blame the ring rust and having been injured and all, but that doesn't do me any favors, does it? I want every victory to be one worth praising, even if it's because I grabbed some trunks in the pin or got in a surprise shot when no one was looking.

A win's a win, but I still want it to be seen as an accomplishment, rather than a gimme.

But you're not going to break my streak, are you, HB? You're going to give me a fight, right? You're not just going to stand there as I pummel you into oblivion, or as I launch you into darkness with the Revenged? You won't just lay there, with zero energy left in you, as you take the Plunge?

Don't make it easy, HB. Because I don't want easy. I want a challenge.

Otherwise, I really might put you back Underground, and you may find yourself thinking of what Austin did with fond memories.

Looking forward to the fight, JB. Looking forward to the Plunge.


~The shot comes up on Gabriella coming to a stop, sending up a small cloud of dust. Vaughn pops out of the truck, making sure to lock and arm it, before heading towards the door. He heads straight inside, not bothering to knock, as he looks around at the couple of men standing there.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm looking for Wyatt Bailey.

~The two men look at each other, then one steps forward, an older man with a scruffy mustache.~

Wyatt Bailey: I'm Bailey. Who are you, and why should I not have my boys toss you out of here?

~The other man steps to the side, clearly contacting a few more guys to come in, but Vaughn isn't intimidated. He steps right up to Bailey, sizing him up.~

Peter Vaughn: So I heard that you've refused to accept my offer to purchase some starting cattle from you.

Wyatt Bailey: Ahhh, I shoulda known. You're that Vaughn fella, aren't you? The one who just bamboozled the Cattle Union? Those idiots may think they have a grip of what's going on in our business, but most of them are just fat cats who have never been out on the field, scrapping manure off their shoes. Just like you, I'd expect.

Peter Vaughn: If you're thinking I'm fat, you need to get your eyes checked.

Wyatt Bailey: I was more meaning in the pocketbook for you. You thought you could just breeze in here and buy your way into the ranching world?

Peter Vaughn: ... That's exactly what I've done. And as you can tell from how the PMV Ranch is doing, I've done it exceedingly well.

~Another group of men come in, now alerted to signs of trouble. They move to the side, watching, as Vaughn and Bailey face off.~

Wyatt Bailey: You may have gotten your fancy little license there, Vaughn, but you haven't proven to anyone that you belong here. Why the hell would I sell you perfectly good head of cattle, when you're making a mockery of everything I hold dear?

Peter Vaughn: Interesting. Is it because I'm a wrestler? Or because of my past employment? Or is it just because I wasn't born here?

Wyatt Bailey: All of the above. And more.

Peter Vaughn: You know, you've got a pretty strong attitude about this. Not sure I exactly understand where this hostility is coming from.

Wyatt Bailey: Well, it ain't up to me to explain it to you. You're just going to have to deal with it, aren't you?

Peter Vaughn: So I suppose offering you double for each head of cattle wouldn't make a difference?

Wyatt Bailey: You can take all of that city money and shove it up your behind. We don't need a dime of it.

~This gets a raised eyebrow from Vaughn, as he starts to put two and two together.~

Peter Vaughn: "We", huh? I bet that means you've been having a discussion with one Jughead Harrison.

Wyatt Bailey: Old Judd and I, we go way back. So there ain't no way in hell I'm giving you anything, city boy.

~Vaughn nods, then looks around at the men standing around. He looks pretty confident that he can take all of them in a fight, if he needed to. They should have gotten more to come in.~

Peter Vaughn: So bribery's out. That leaves violence. What happens if I decide to beat the hell out of all of you? Will I be able to get my point across that I deserve to be sold to?

~Bailey, clearly an old-school western sort, isn't intimidated, either. In fact, he looks ready to get his own shots in, if needed. But he also smiles and points to the nearby corner, where we can see a red light flashing.~

Wyatt Bailey: If you attack me and my boys, well, we're going to have to do a number on you. And then, with those cameras, we'll have all the proof we need to show that you started it. Get out of here, Vaughn. Don't show your face in my establishment again. You want cattle? Have them shipped in from overseas or something, because there's no way you're getting any of my prime stock.

~Vaughn glances around at some of the other cameras, working things through in his head. He then turns and steps towards the door, even as one of the cowboys steps in his path, grinning. Vaughn gives him a look, then starts to step around him. The man gives him a shove, as if to help him towards the door.~

Cowboy: That's right, take your scrawny...

~Vaughn is immediately spinning, though, coming back around with a massive heel kick that sends the cowboy flying. He's out before he hits the ground, lying flat on his back. The rest of the men look shocked, but Bailey's still not showing much. He just shows some disappointment at the boy laying there.~

Peter Vaughn: Be sure to keep that footage handy, so it'll show he went after me first. Be seeing you, Bailey.

~Vaughn turns and goes out the door, as Bailey grabs a mug from the nearby desk and steps forward. He splashes whatever was in the mug onto the downed man, who comes awake, sputtering and trying to clear his eyes.~

Wyatt Bailey: Get this chump out of here.

~Two men grab the cowboy and pull him away, taking him out the back door, as Bailey turns and stares out the window to where Vaughn is getting back in his truck. Bailey can't help but give a small smile, which he quickly erases before turning away. We then join Vaughn as he's inside the truck, dialing a number on his phone.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, Bill, it's Peter. Yeah, I know, I KNOW! But I've done right for the Coalition whenever it's needed me, right? Okay then. So here's what I need from you. I'm going to need access to a select line of security cameras on a specific network. I've got the address, and I can get you more information if you need it. Alright. I'll email it to you, then, but you really should start carrying a pen with you. Just get it done, okay? Thanks.

~Vaughn hangs up, then starts the engine. Gabriella purrs, as she's been retrofit to run extremely smoothly. She's probably better cared for than any of Vaughn's current livestock. He pats the wheel, then looks one more time at the building in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: Gotta admit... he kind of reminds me of you, Dad. Seemed like a tough customer. He's probably stood his ground for decades now, making his opinion law. Then again, he's never had to deal with someone like me before, has he?

~There's no answer, not that Vaughn was expecting one.~

Peter Vaughn: Here's to another battle, old-timer. I hope you're ready.

~Vaughn then puts the truck in reverse, backing out, before heading off down the road. We fade out.~


17
Climax Control Archives / The Power of Negotiation
« on: April 21, 2023, 09:18:17 PM »
~As the cameras slowly come up, we once again recognize our surroundings as the private warehouse that Peter Vaughn owns, somewhere in an unknown location (although it's likely in the Dallas area, all things considered). This time, there are no large-scale constructions in the warehouse. Instead, it looks like a circular running track has been drawn into the floor, covering the span of what we can see in the camera. Slowly jogging towards us, a calm look on his face, is Peter Vaughn. The camera follows him as he continues to make his way around the track, while turning his head to speak to the people at home.~

Peter Vaughn: When I first made my way to Sin City, the federation that everyone was talking about, I had two goals in mind: helping Mac Bane win the championship, and getting another crack at Matt Knox. Well, I succeeded on the first part, but Knox's quick retirement, brief though it was, was enough to derail my early plans here. Instead, as a member of the Saviors, I looked to build up my reputation in this company.

~Vaughn makes the small turn easily, showing no loss of breath as he continues his jog. For him, this must feel like a relatively tame exercise, when he's used to moving at full speed while inside the squared circle.~

Peter Vaughn: I thought I was making some headway. I took down two former champions in Milo and Washington, getting myself a fairly decent payday with a pay-per-view victory. It seemed like I was going to start on my way up to the top, along with the other Saviors. But then... things took an interesting turn. The Blast From The Past Tournament came and went, and suddenly I found myself back at the starting line: once again facing off against Milo on Climax Control. You could say it felt like I was running in circles...

~The jog continues. The cameraman has to be feeling it by this point, but being a true professional, he's not asking for a break. He keeps the shot continuous as Vaughn passes another turn, back to where he had been running when we first came on the air.~

Peter Vaughn: Things didn't go particularly great with Milo the second time. I didn't get a second victory. Instead, we went to a time-limit draw, with many believing that Milo should have won. Well, that's not what the record books say, and he sure as hell didn't get the three count on me, so it looks like things will remain the way they are. But once again, the circle seemed to continue. There was even talk that people thought we should have another rematch...

~Vaughn shakes his head, even as he continues around the track. Hopefully none of you viewers are feeling any dizziness at the moment.~

Peter Vaughn: In the meantime, things seemed to be going wrong for the Saviors. Injuries have limited some. Mac had his championship stolen. One member came and went in a short period of time, bringing back some memories of my time as an Exile. It seemed like every reason I had come to Sin City for was quickly dissipating into the air, vanishing into nothingness. It appeared like my time here might be coming to an end.

~Vaughn shakes his head, looking away from the camera for a moment. But when he looks back, his smirk is back on his face, as he starts to speed up, forcing the cameraman to keep up with him.~

Peter Vaughn: Anyone who thinks that I would just walk away, though, is fooling themselves. I am a competitor. I am a warrior. I am a champion. And now, I've found a way to break the cycle. I've found a way to turn one Savior's struggles into a gold mine. I find myself with the opportunity to become the SCW Roulette Champion. Which means that the path... has changed.

~Suddenly, Vaughn branches off of the track, at a prearranged spot, jogging straight forward. He ends up near the entrance doorway to the warehouse, stopping there as he turns to his right, flipping up a cooler and pulling out two energy drinks. The camera is visibly shaking, thanks to the fatigue of our brave cameraman. Vaughn, showing his respect for the man in keeping up, tossing him one of the drinks.~

Peter Vaughn: You earned it, boyo. And I damn well earned it as well. Because it's time that Peter Vaughn once again takes the road less traveled, and makes his way into golden territory. I'll see you there soon, cameraman.

~Vaughn departs into the sunlight outside, still carrying his own drink, as the cameraman seemingly chugs down the fluids. We eventually cut away, as there's nothing else to see here.~


~We come back up showing a large crowd of people making their way across a street, most dressed like they're going to a western-themed movie party. They all seem to be in good spirits as the camera follows them, showing that they're headed into a large stadium. A banner nearby proclaims that this is the Dallas Ranching Rodeo, a three-day event taking place this weekend. We join the crowd, making our way inside. The camera pans around the auditorium portion, where different stalls have been set up. Some are showcasing goods for sale, others have livestock for photography (or a good deal for some meat). The camera eventually stops on the man making his way into the area: Peter Vaughn. He's wearing his usual coveralls, which makes him stand out even more than usual in the place like this. A couple of cowboys nearby guffaw as soon as they see him.~

Cowboy #1: What the heck are you wearing, son?

Cowboy #2: You look like a damned fool! The Comic Con is probably down the street, hah!

~In response, Vaughn turns and stares at the two men intently, as if memorizing their faces. The look in his eyes is enough to make the first cowboy take a step back, bumping into the second one.~

Cowboy #1: Now, sonny, that's just a joke... uh... we'll be getting out of your hair now.

~The two men move off, both a little shaky from the stare they just looked into. Vaughn watches them go, then seems to think to himself for a moment. He looks down at his outfit, then turns and walks over to a nearby western gear store, set up just for this event. The man behind the table awkwardly coughs before getting up, never one to turn down a potential sale.~

Salesman: What can I do you for, friend? We've got the finest knives and pistols here the world has ever seen...

~You would think someone like Vaughn would be interested in the lethal weapons. But instead, he steps to the side, grabbing at a black cowboy hat that was hanging there. He looks it over, putting it on his head for a second. If anything, it amplifies how bad the coveralls look, but Vaughn seems satisfied. He turns back to the salesman, who's got both eyebrows raised.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll take it.

~Vaughn flips through one of his many pockets, pulling out a fifty-dollar bill and dropping it on the table. He turns and walks away, even as the salesman scoops up the bill, quickly making sure it's not a forgery. Satisfied, he waves after Vaughn.~

Salesman: I've got some great vests as well! Come again anytime!

~Vaughn doesn't look back. He's headed into the stadium area of the rodeo, where the competitions are already beginning to take place.~


I've never been one to be too concerned about my looks.

Back in the day, when I was a... slightly different person, even then, it was more about the work than the image I portrayed. I wanted to be respected for everything I did. I may not be a supermodel, but I was a super worker. At least, that's how I saw it... before everything took a twist, and I became the man I am today. But now, it's even less about my appearance and more about what I'm bringing with me to the ring... including my five World Championship reigns.

I made it my goal that any federation I went to, I'd find a way to get a championship, and for the most part, I've succeeded in that goal. The only two stand-outs for me are Level Up Wrestling, which is still on extended hiatus, and the world-class federation known as Sin City Wrestling. But now, I've been given my opportunity to change that... with my first opportunity at championship gold.

Of course, my opponent this week, Malachi, has had his opportunities here to claim a title or two. Too bad he's blown every one of them, most recently by taking the loss to Goth at Blaze of Glory.

It must feel like an amazing stroke of luck, Mally, that the man who beat you and retained his championship had to then forfeit it, and somehow the powers that be decided that you deserved yet another shot at it. There must be some strong reasoning somewhere there, something they saw in your match with Goth that made you worthy in their eyes.

All I really remember is you tapping out to Goth's submission, giving up once again on being a champ. But maybe they saw something in the way you nodded your head or something.

Here's the thing, Mal: you and I both know that you were not on Goth's level. I mean, there's no shame in that. Goth is a hell of a wrestler, one of the best in the business. I mean, I'm 1-0 against him, having eliminated him from a tournament, but that doesn't change anything for you... because you're not on my level, either.

If I were you, Mallard, I'd be thinking about how Into The Void XII is just going to be another paycheck for you. It doesn't seem like you're highly rated enough to find a way to get that victory. But then, maybe you learned something from your most recent loss, just like I learned something from my time limit draw.

Or maybe you're just stubbornly going to do things your way until they finally cart you out of this place, with no more chances on your bingo card.

I gotta say, Mal... it doesn't look good for you.


~We rejoin Peter Vaughn inside the stadium, where the ground has been covered in dirt for the events taking place. On one side, we hear the countdown, followed by a buzzer. A gate swings open, and a cowboy comes flying out, riding a furious bull, who works with all his might to send the brute on his back flying. The cowboy gamely hangs on, as the crowd counts along, loving absolutely every second. The buzzer goes off again at eight seconds, earning a wave of respect from the audience, as the cowboy quickly dismounts and rolls away, while some rodeo clowns move in to distract the bull and keep him from goring open the pest who was riding him. As the audience settles down, we find ourselves in a small sitting area to the side, where a well-dressed cattleman in a white hat is nodding along in appreciation.~

David Schoeder: I tell y'all boys, there's nothing finer than seeing a grown man conquer a bull, no sir! What a ride!

~The other men around him, clearly yes-men by the way they're already nodding, are in full agreement. There's just one guy who doesn't seem to join in the affirmation.~

Peter Vaughn: ... I don't get it.

~Schoeder and the rest turn and look at Vaughn, taking in his 'interesting' appearance as Vaughn stares out into the small arena setting. He watches as they corral the bull, driving him back into the stocks to keep him out of harm's way.~

David Schoeder:  What's not to get? It's a majestic sport!

Peter Vaughn: But... they only have to last eight seconds. And they don't even have to take the bull down and slaughter him. What's the point?

David Schoeder: I don't think I quite understand, sir, what you are referring to.

Peter Vaughn: I'm just saying... in my profession, sometimes you have to fight 30 minutes straight against your competition. Occasionally it's more like 60 minutes or more. It takes everything you've got, with the goal of completely annihilating your opponent until they can't get up. Here, you guys applaud somebody staying in there for mere seconds. Yeah, I doubt I'll ever understand it.

~Schoeder looks at Vaughn in disbelief for a few moments, before breaking into laughter. The other men around him immediately laugh as well, following his lead. Schoeder finishes off his cackle before turning back to Vaughn, who still is shaking his head.~

David Schoeder: Well, I'll say, my boy, you've got a unique view of the world to be coming in here thinking like that. What, may I ask, drove someone of your... caliber into an event like this one, anyway? It doesn't really feel like you're comfortable here.

~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders, tapping his new black cowboy hat, before turning back to Schoeder's gaze.~

Peter Vaughn: It's true. This will likely never be a place someone like I fit in. But I don't mind it. I've always been better at standing out. That being said, you ask why I'm here, and it's simple: I'm looking for you, Mr. Schoeder. I heard you'd be here today. I also heard you're one of the top representatives in the Dallas cattle union I've been seeking an audience with.

~Confusion spreads across Schoeder's face, before recognition finally appears.~

David Schoeder: My lord, you're that new owner of the old Venkman ranch, aren't you? The... the PPV one?

Peter Vaughn: The PMV Ranch, actually, although I like the way you think. If you're able, I'd like to have a few private moments of your time. If your... friends there can let you go, that is.

~Schoeder looks around at the men around him, all of whom seem a little uncertain to leave their boss's side. But Schoeder just pushes himself up, nodding towards Vaughn with no concern.~

David Schoeder: It just so happens I have a private little lounge here at the stadium. One of the perks of being a long-time supporter. Follow me, and sure, we can talk.

~He gestures to Vaughn, directing him to start moving off, and walks after him. Schoeder then looks back for a second, giving one of the guys a dark smirk and shaking his head, before they continue on their way.~


So let's talk about the man who's going to have the power at Climate Control: the surprise referee, "Bulldog" Bill Barnhart.

I say, Triple B, you seem like you should be the one I'm wrestling, not Malic Acid over here. You've actually had success in the SCW, holding that Roulette Championship twice. I mean, that's extremely respectful, showing you've got more of a warrior's spirit than the man I'm currently set to fight.

That being said, you, too, lost to Goth, right? Losing the championship to him? It seems to be a streak going on here, where all the men who fell to the former champion are now getting their second chance back up the ladder. It doesn't fit for me, but I'm still hoping for my shot at a brawl or two with Goth here, a Saviors Special, if you will. Until then, it's only fitting that I find a way to keep his title warm from him, away from the vultures.

Now, here's the thing, Bulldog. Logic would stipulate that I come into this match kissing your ass, saying you're such a wonderful wrestler, to get you on my side and have you help me eliminate Malfoy from the Fatal Fourway. But that's not really my way. I call things how I see them, and if that brutal honesty bothers you, well, then we'll see what happens at the contest, won't we?

But if you call things straight down the middle as you're supposed to, there won't be any problems between us. If you try to screw me over for some reason, though, just because Mally has been here longer or because you maybe don't like the Saviors, then I guess we're going to have problems. Both at Climate Control and at the PPV. But I suppose that's on you, and how you want things to be.

Back to the actual punching bag I'm going against, Malpractice. I'm sure you're planning to deliver some Pure Malice to me, touting how you've got such incredible moves in your repertoire. I've heard that all before. Milo and Washington both thought that, too, actually. And yet, things turned out poorly for them, and I'm thinking it's going to be even worse for you.

If I truly dominate you, Mal, would you consider this an 'elimination' match? Would you willingly drop out of the Fatal Fourway once you realize how much my wrestling skills outclass yours? Or will you continue to be the stubborn fighter who won't deal with the truths that are sitting right in front of him? Judging by past history, I'm assuming you're still going to compete at the PPV, as is your right.

But I want you to at least be the lesson for Barney and the Mysterious Stranger. I want them both to see you and think "Well, hell, we know who the biggest threat in this contest is."  I want to set a high bench mark for all of you to ponder, and see if you think you could possibly reach it.

I also want to just get another victory added to my totals here at SCW, and I can practically guarantee that's going to happen... as long as the bull god follows through on his responsibilities. Worst case? I deliver a two-pronged lesson to both men. I guess we'll see how it goes down.

There's no limit to the number of plunges that can take place, after all.


~The private lounge door shuts quietly behind them with a simple click. Vaughn steps into the lounge, taking in the two couches, as well as the balcony in the back that seems to overlook the stadium itself. He steps over to the couch, taking a seat, as Schoeder heads to the right, getting out two glasses.~

David Schoeder: Can I at least assume that you're a man that can handle whiskey?

Peter Vaughn: Over the past year rooming with some strong-willed individuals, my drinking abilities have definitely been on the upswing.

David Schoeder: I suppose that's good to hear.

~Schoeder laughs to himself again, before bringing over the half-filled glass and handing it to Vaughn. He keeps one for himself, sipping at the whiskey and smacking his lips at the taste.~

David Schoeder: This is a rather potent variety. I managed to get my hands on it thanks to a lucky run of cards. I would take my time in...

~Vaughn sets his empty glass down on the table, with Schoeder looking over at it in surprise. Vaughn doesn't seem to be showing much of a reaction, other than giving it a nod.~

Peter Vaughn: A decent taste. Is that a Woodford Reserve?

David Schoeder: I... why yes, I believe it is. Incredible.

~With a slightly increased amount of respect, Schoeder sips at his whiskey again, before looking back at Vaughn.~

David Schoeder: So what is is you want from me, sir?

Peter Vaughn: Simple. I want your support and backing in my claims to earn a cattle license here in Texas.

~Schoeder doesn't look shocked, having expected this request. He nods to Vaughn, telling him to go on.~

Peter Vaughn: As you probably know, I've been looking to expand my new ranch into the cattle business, but have met a great deal of... resistance... from the local ranchers. Each one of my attempts to speak at one of the union meetings has been denied in one way or another. I've also had some... costly setbacks on my ranch, thanks to the actions of a select few in this group. It's come to my attention that, for this style of business, I'm going to need some support. And from what I hear, you've got the most connections on the board.

~Schoeder sits forward, puffing up slightly at the flattery. He's the type of man that loves to hear compliments about his power and skill, something that Vaughn has likely picked up on.~

David Schoeder: It's true, I do have a great deal of respect from the members of the union. They'd likely listen to me, if I wanted to go that direction. Sad to say, though, Mr. Vaughn, I'm not quite inclined to step in on your side.

Peter Vaughn: May I ask why not?

David Schoeder: Well, I'd say it's fairly obvious. You, sir... are not a rancher.

~Schoeder gestures towards Vaughn's wardrobe, sticking his nose up in disgust.~

David Schoeder: From all I've heard, you're just a city slicker who got some lucky wins in the wrasslin' business and decided to buy your way in to our way of life. But it's not that easy, Mr. Vaughn. Families here have worked for generations to make themselves into successful ranchers. You can't just come in with money and 'join the club'. Quite frankly, son, you're a bit of an embarrassment to all of us.

~Vaughn looks down for a few seconds, as Schoeder finishes off his drink. He sets it down on the table, then begins to stand up.~

David Schoeder: If you'll excuse me, I need to get back. One of my boys are riding later on, and I'm sure they're going to set some tremendous records out there... even if it's, as you say, only eight seconds.

~Schoeder turns to leave, walking towards the door. That's when the glass comes flying past his shoulder, shattering in front of him. He stumbles back, surprised, then turns, as Vaughn is now on his feet, grinning at him. It is not a pleasant look.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you have time for my rebuttal... sir?

~Schoeder, suddenly realizing that he's without any security around him, steps back to the wall, as Vaughn picks up the second glass, tossing it slightly in the air before catching it. He looks over at Schoeder, as if working out the best angle for a toss. But he doesn't let loose of the glass... yet.~

Peter Vaughn: I've got two points I'd like to make for you, Mr. Schoeder. The first one is, you're right. I grew up in the city. I worked hard there, earning my keep, earning my strengths, and finally found a way for me to get out of there and become a man I wanted to me: a champion. But it's true, I did happen to win a million-dollar tournament or two, which earned me the right to purchase the PMV ranch. If you think I did it without a lot of blood and sweat, you're badly mistaken.

~Vaughn steps closer to Schoeder, who looks more nervous now. But Vaughn then steps away, instead heading back over to the bar. He fills up the remaining glass with more whiskey, as Schoeder nervously glances at the door, trying to judge his ability to get out before he can be caught.~

Peter Vaughn: As for my second point.... 05291-23628-99732...

~Schoeder, who has taken a tentative step towards the door, freezes in place as the numbers get recited. He looks over, his face losing all its color as he realizes what he's just heard.~

David Schoeder: Where.... where did you get that account number??

~Vaughn has comfortably sat back on the couch now, this time enjoying the whiskey a little more before answering.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, Mr. Schoeder, I'm not just a wrestler, and I'm not just a rancher. I'm many things, including an individual that has lots of contacts all over the world. One of these such contacts happened to be in your employ at one time. You know, you REALLY should invest in a shredder, rather than simply throwing your papers away into the trash. Why, they're easily recovered there... including secret oversea bank accounts like the one I've found. Ones with hundreds of thousands of dollars in them.

~Schoeder almost looks like he's ready to have a heart attack, sliding partially down the wall. Vaughn, seeing this, gets up and comes over, hauling Schoeder up and helping him over to the second couch.~

Peter Vaughn: Now, now, take some deep breaths, Mr. Schoeder. I still need your help, after all. You see, I know that you've made some choices for the union based on... donations to your special account there. I assume it's basically a retirement account for you, one your current wife doesn't know about. The thing is... it'd be very easy for all that money to just... disappear one day, wouldn't it? You'd have no way of proving who moved the funds, after all.

~Vaughn offers the left-over whiskey to Schoeder, who quickly downs it, coughing heavily from the burn. Vaughn smiles, before leaning down and looking Schoeder in the face.~

Peter Vaughn: On the other hand, it'd be just as easy to transfer MORE funds into this account, wouldn't it? And all you'd have to do... is what you've done in the past. It really sounds like a simple choice to me. But then, it's all about what you want to do. I'll see myself out. I'm sure you know how to contact me, being a man of your... knowledge and experience. Enjoy the rodeo.

~Vaughn pats the suffering man on the shoulder, then turns, heading right out the door. Schoeder looks after him, still gasping as if he was short of breath. He slowly recovers, leaning forward and putting his hands to his head, as we slowly fade out.~


By failing to prepare, you're preparing to fail.

I always have my plans in place, and I always know where I'm going next. The first step of the latest plan? It's all you, Malady. You will serve multiple purposes for me at spreading my message across Sin City. When you've been defeated and I move forward, I know I'll earn the targets of the other two men competing for the gold. But then, I want them to see me coming.

You're the first among them to fall, Mal. In some ways that's an honor. In others, it's a shame.

You're going to have to live with the fact that you couldn't beat Goth. You can't beat me. And you won't be winning the Roulette Championship. Maybe you should go back to competing in the tag division. Hey, I admire you for getting wins there. I never work well with others, which is why I've always been a star singles competitor. You should always go with your strengths, and have someone to tag out to when you've had the holy hell beaten out of you.

Unfortunately, I doubt Bulldog will let you tag him. So your options are pretty limited.

It's going to be fun, Mal. For me, at least. I'll see you on the battlefield, on the road to Into The Void XII. Don't get too lost, now, after you've taken the Plunge.


18
Climax Control Archives / A Blast From The Past - Literally
« on: March 24, 2023, 11:57:16 PM »
~As the camera comes on, we're once again inside the warehouse of one Peter Vaughn. We've never gotten any indication of where this warehouse is located, but the obvious thought would be it's somewhere in Texas. Then again, trying to predict anything that Vaughn's involved with is always a risky proposition. The camera turns to the right, showing Vaughn standing there, wearing a large white wig and a suit. Yep, unpredictable. He slowly turns towards the camera, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, Sin City. And what a fabulous day it is, isn't it? Why, it's almost patriotic. I earn my first victory at an SCW Pay-Per-View, and wouldn't you know it, it's by beating a man named Washington. Does that mean Adams is next? Is there a Lincoln in the house that needs to get assassinated? Is there a dirty crook like Nixon? Actually, I'd like to meet that guy.

~Vaughn nods to himself, before shaking his head. He reaches up, pulling off the wig and staring at it, as if holding a human head.~

Peter Vaughn: Alas, poor Jack, I knew him... well, really, I didn't know him at all, other than he's the second former champion that I've taken down. So far, I think I've proven my worth to the SCW big-wigs, pun unintended...

~Vaughn tosses the wig behind him, as if discarding a useless piece of history.~

Peter Vaughn: And now, I've been given my opportunity in the Blast From The Past Tournament. And what an opportunity it is... for my fellow Saviors. Somehow, they managed to stick together for the most part in their random draws, while I'm here with Seleana, a lady that I have to admit I know little about. I heard she's a zookeeper. A worthy profession, locking up dangerous animals behind steel cages. No wonder she ended up in wrestling.

~With a flourish, Vaughn sheds the rest of his suit, revealing a Zoolander t-shirt underneath. We get what he was going for, even if he's kind of missed the mark. But Vaughn has never been one for watching movies, so he probably has no idea what Blue Steel is.~

Peter Vaughn: So I'm with the Zoo Princess... and I have to fight a God in the first round. Well, I didn't come to Sin City to avoid the tough contests, now, did I? Looks like I've got my hands full... and looks like my partner and I will have to work out a few strong strategies to survive.

~Vaughn nods, turning away from the camera, before looking back at it again with a distinctive pose. Maybe he DOES know Blue Steel.~

Peter Vaughn: And maybe Ken and I will have to get together beforehand and discuss a few strategies of our own.

~With a shrug, Vaughn walks away, departing the camera's view, as the picture slowly cuts away from the warehouse.~


~As the picture returns, we find ourselves outside a small office building in downtown Dallas. Peter Vaughn is seen, stepping out of the car, wearing what appears to be a polo t-shirt and slacks. It doesn't look that great on him, probably because he continues to fidget with the outfit. Clearly, he misses his coveralls. Behind him, his half-brother, Thomas Hill, steps into view, dressed similarly. You'd think these two boys were going to church, but they're actually looking towards a higher power.~

Peter Vaughn: So this is where we're supposed to meet the investor?

Thomas Hill: Yeah, this is the place, alright. It says to just go in and meet with the receptionist, and we'll be directed to his office.

Peter Vaughn: What do we know about this guy again? This feels a little shady for me.

Thomas Hill: Look, Karl Withers is one of the wealthiest land owners in Dallas. This man can buy or sell you twenty times over.

Peter Vaughn: Nobody can buy me. I'm unbuyable.

Thomas Hill: Okay, fine, not you, but anyone else. And we need investors if we're going to continue to build up your ranch. Sure, you've sunk a lot of your wrestling winnings into it, but that's unsustainable long-term. We need a steady income to really boost us up, and to get there, we need seed money.

Peter Vaughn: It's a lot easier just to go out and win tournaments. But fine. We'll make this work, if only for you, brother.

~Vaughn has recently made a pledge to try and not treat his half-brother like a complete piece of crap. In some ways, that probably does show he cares about the guy, in his own way. Thomas nods, pleased, as they walk into the building. The receptionist looks up at them as they approach, giving her best business-winning smile.~

Receptionist: Hello! How can I help you?

Thomas Hill: We're here to meet with Karl Withers. I believe we have an appointment.

Receptionist: You certainly do! Please go down the hall to Room 122. I'll have Mr. Withers contact you shortly.

~Thomas nods in appreciation and starts to walk away, but Vaughn stops him. He's looking at the receptionist with suspicion.~[/i

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me, but you didn't even ask our names. How do you know WE'RE the ones with an appointment?

Receptionist: Oh... well, you're highly recognizable, Mr. Vaughn. I knew it was you as soon as you came in.

Thomas Hill: See, Peter? You're famous!

~Vaughn doesn't look like he buys that, as he's used to being ignored, despite his epic runs in the world of wrestling. But the receptionist keeps that plastered-on smile going, so Vaughn has no choice but to shrug and walk off with Thomas. As the two depart, the receptionist suddenly stands, pressing a button on her desk.~

Receptionist: He's here... and I'm out.

~The receptionist stands up and heads for the door, hurrying out of the building, as we cut away.~


You can never take anything at face value at life. Things are never 100 percent trustworthy.

Just look at me. I sign with the Saviors, I come in and win my first two matches, and now I need to fight one of the legends of the Saviors, "Godly" Ken Davison. Who saw that coming? And I'm supposed to believe this was a "random" draw, when it immediately means that one of us isn't getting out of the first round?

I'm smelling some trickery afoot.

But hey, I came to SCW to fight the best of the best, and I'd certainly say that Davison qualifies. He'll be the third straight former champion I've fought since I've got here, which makes me think that there are just a ton of former champs just sitting around here. The gold really travels, huh? Guess I'll have to make my way to a championship sooner rather than later, so I can join the pack.

So Godly, I've gotta say, I'm looking forward to this. But really, I wish it was a one-on-one contest. You see, I've never been much of a team player. I barely know anything about Seleana, and I certainly don't know Courtney Pierce, other than that she's had some luck in the Blast From The Past before. These two ladies likely hold our fate in their hands, because while I think I'm close to God-Like status myself, the imbalance may be in our partnerships.

Maybe Seleana is going to prove herself a fearsome warrior, breaking out against Courtney and stealing the pin while I'm occupied being a God-slayer. Or maybe Courtney remembers what she did 5 whole years ago and comes out swinging, knowing when to hit and run when she's got the opportunity. Really, I don't know what those ladies are going to do.

And I don't care.

For me, Godzo? I'm going to pretend they're not even in the match, because this is the chance for you and I to tear up the arena from entrance to exit, from pillar to post, from the concessions to the horrible t-shirts they're selling of guys like Milo. Now, am I going to try for some broken ribs or multiple contusions to the back of your head with a chair?

I mean, I'm not going to promise I won't, but I don't plan to. I didn't join the Saviors just to piss you all off a month in. Of course, Mac knows that I'll do pretty much anything to win a match, so... let's just say I'll try not to put you on the shelf, Kenny, if you agree to the same with me.

It's going to be a war, and maybe the ladies WILL be the ones who decide it. But I'm still going to have a blast, Kenny... there's no doubt about it.

You can trust me on that... just not 100 percent.


~The picture comes back to Vaughn and his half-brother, Thomas, as they enter into Room 122. The door begins to close, but Vaughn reaches out, catching it, keeping it open. He starts to study the door. Thomas, confused, turns towards him.~

Thomas Hill: What's with the sudden interest in doorknobs, Peter? I know you probably could put them in a pillowcase and made a hell of a weapon for a match someday, but I'd probably not recommend taking those.

Peter Vaughn: Hah. I've actually used doorknobs in a match before. It got pretty bloody. But no, that's not what caught my eye.

Thomas Hill: What is it, then? The shine? The paint job? What?

Peter Vaughn: The fact that this door is set up to lock from the outside, as soon as it closes.

~Surprised, Thomas steps forward, checking the lock. As Vaughn said, it's actually got the door settings on the outside, a unique design.~

Thomas Hill: So, what? We would have been locked in? Why would Karl Withers do that to us? It's probably just a crazy investor strategy or something, not letting us leave.

Peter Vaughn: Do you smell... gas?

Thomas Hill: I swear, it wasn't me this time.

Peter Vaughn: Not that kind of... look, nevermind. Just run. Now!

~Vaughn shoves Hill back out of the room, basically dragging the puzzled brother along with him as they go back down the hall. They get to the receptionist room.~

Thomas Hill: Where'd the cute girl go?

Peter Vaughn: Damn it. We need to...

~There's a sudden eruption down the hall, causing both men to spin around. We see a wall of flame suddenly roaring down the hallway, having erupted out of the room the two men were just in. Vaughn, reacting on instinct, shoves Thomas bodily down behind the desk, dropping with him. The flames pass overhead, thanks to the gas' natural reaction. As the fire subsides, Vaughn pulls himself up, looking around. The sprinklers have come on, putting out any residual flames. Thomas, struggling to get up, puts a hand on the desk.~

Thomas Hill: I think you dislocated my shoulder.

Peter Vaughn: I'll put it back in later. We need to get out of here.

Thomas Hill: What the hell just happened, Peter??

Peter Vaughn: He's back... I thought he'd given up.

Thomas Hill: ... WHO?

Peter Vaughn: One of my former trainers... and one of the most vile men I've ever met. Andrew Logan.

~Vaughn turns and heads for the doors, shoving them open and stepping into the light. Behind him, Thomas weakly follows, his arm clearly bothering him. We slowly fade out.~


19
Climax Control Archives / Start of a New Adventure...
« on: February 17, 2023, 11:51:30 PM »
~The picture slowly opens up on what appears to be some sort of warehouse. We can see a few dark figures in the distance, not moving, as the camera slowly turns around to show the garage door in the back. It begins to raise, bringing some light into the equation. Standing behind the door, revealed, is a man wearing grey coveralls and a dark grin. He's a man well-known in some circles, still a mystery in others. He is "The Mechanic" Peter Vaughn.~

Peter Vaughn: Good evening, Sin City.

~Vaughn steps forward, entering the warehouse, and walks directly towards the camera. He acknowledges it with a nod, showing that he's talking straight to the viewers watching at home. This doesn't happen very often, so you can tell Vaughn is doing things slightly different in his debut here tonight.~

Peter Vaughn: I've heard a lot about you, SCW. There's been a great deal of talk about how great the competition is here, from men and women I trust to not lie to me. But I don't know how much you've heard about me, Sin City. So how about we have a refresher course before we really start going?

~As the garage door begins to shut again, Vaughn walks forward towards where a first spotlight has come on, highlighting one of the figures. Surprisingly, it appears to be a smiling cut-out of Vaughn himself, from his younger days.~

Peter Vaughn: Let's start with this piece of work: Peter "The Janitor" Vaughn. This is the man I was known as for years, the happy-go-lucky custodian who always lost his matches and rarely put up much against any of his competition. I was a goofball who didn't care about the sport. I was a man with no fighting spirit. I was a complete, irredeemable loser.

~Vaughn sighs, disgusted by the sight of that smile on The Janitor's face. He reaches behind the cut-out, picking up a tool off the ground. On first glance, it appears to be a grinder with a chainsaw attachment added onto it, a unique tool, to be sure. Vaughn turns back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: That man? He's no more.

~The grinder chainsaw comes to life, roaring in the echo-filled space of the warehouse. Vaughn expertly uses it to cut off the head of the cut-out, then adds more and more shreds as he passes through it again and again. Soon, there's very little left of the cut-out, as Vaughn turns the improvised tool back off and sets it down. He begins walking again.~

Peter Vaughn: Things changed in late 2021. I fell under the... tutelage of a man I once worked for, Jonathan Barrows. He had some... unique ideas on how to change my trajectory in the business. These methods... tore the Janitor apart. For a while, I don't know exactly who I was, other than someone who was a danger to anyone and everyone around him. There were a few... incidents... that are best not repeated. Suffice to say... I went a little mad.

~Vaughn stops in front of a newly-spotlighted cutout, this one showing a much more deranged-looking Peter Vaughn. There's something about the look on the cutout's face that's quite frankly unsettling. The real-life Vaughn stares at this version of him for a few extra seconds, contemplating how far he's come, before reaching down and picking up a butane torch. It again appears to be custom-designed to fit what Vaughn is looking for, as he's able to spark it on with one motion, bringing the flame up towards his face.~

Peter Vaughn: But then, we all go a little mad sometimes, don't we?

~With one motion, Vaughn sets the cutout ablaze. There must have been some added accelerant added, because it goes up fairly quickly. Vaughn steps away, putting down the torch, as the insane version disappears into smoke and ash. Vaughn then walks on, headed to the third cutout.~

Peter Vaughn: It took me a little time to pull myself back together. Some would say I'm still working on it. But I'm a lot less crazed than I once was. I found the balance between those two selves, positioning myself as a new man: The Mechanic. With him, I've gone on to win five World Championships in five different feds. I've been to the top almost everywhere I've gone in the last year.

~Vaughn steps up to the final cutout, which is a shot of a smiling Mechanic holding three world titles at the same time. This Vaughn looks posed and confident, with no signs of the insecurity or insanity of the previous two. The real Vaughn seems to smile at this likeness, enjoying the look of the championships in view. After a few seconds, though, Vaughn's smile falters. He turns, reaching behind the cutout, and pulls out a heavily-modified sledgehammer, complete with nails embedded in it. Vaughn considers it, before looking at the 'best' version of himself.~

Peter Vaughn: But here and now, this one is moving into ancient history.

~Vaughn rears back, smashing the cutout directly in the center of the chest. It basically explodes from the impact, sending scraps flying everywhere. Vaughn throws in a few more shots for good measure, making sure everything's destroyed, before turning back to the camera.~

Peter Vaughn: You see, my coming into SCW means that I'm starting from scratch once again. I'm not going to get handed respect here, even if I do have allies here. I'm going to have to earn it. And that means... I'm going to need to destroy every single person that's sent against me. The climb to the top? It starts again... today. Thus endeth the lesson.

~Vaughn drops the sledgehammer, which makes a loud crashing noise on the ground. He walks away, as the camera pans back and forth, taking in all of the destruction contained in this warehouse. We slowly cut away.~


~After a few seconds, the camera comes back on, showing a clear blue sky. Something seems different about it, though, as the camerawork seems pretty shaky. After a few seconds, we understand why, as the view changes, showing that we appear to be falling out of this clear blue sky, towards the earth below. The shot moves, getting closer to a group of individuals who are taking the same plunge. The camera is able to get below, shooting up, and showing that at least one of these falling angels appears to be Peter Vaughn. He is falling in tandem with another man, strapped in behind him. The man makes a motion, and Vaughn reacts immediately, pulling his rip cord. The parachute opens, with Vaughn quickly disappearing upwards.~

~After a few seconds, we cut to a different shot, showing us Vaughn having landed inside a small clearing, already working to get himself detached. The man behind him pats him on the shoulder, pleased with how things went.~

Man: That was a brilliant display for your first time, Mr. Vaughn. Some people have panic attacks on their way down, but you clearly weren't affected at all.

Peter Vaughn: I'm kind of used to falling out of the sky, Phil. I'm just not used to the parachute being there.

~Phil laughs, turning away, although Vaughn doesn't look like he was joking. He shrugs, looking around and seeing the other two chutes making their way in. The first tandem lands nearby, tumbling to the ground upon landing. Vaughn, surprised, hurries over, clearing away the chute as the two people try to pull themselves up.~

Peter Vaughn: You okay, Thomas?

Thomas Hill: Oh, God, that was terrifying!!

~Vaughn worked to disconnect his half-brother from his guide, unclipping him. Vaughn found out about Thomas last year, learning that his mother had started a new life after leaving his father, creating a new family. That made Thomas one of the few family members Vaughn had left.~

Thomas Hill: Seriously, I thought we were going to be pancakes! I didn't think Bobby was going to open the chute in time!

Bobby: I signaled YOU to do it! I had to pull my reserve chute, you froze up there!

Thomas Hill: I did not! I just... was enjoying myself too much. Yeah, that's it...

~Bemused, Vaughn turns and looks at the final duo coming down. This one is made up of two ladies, and they land effortlessly in the center of the clearing. Vaughn walks over to them, with a limping Thomas following behind.~

Peter Vaughn: Enjoy the ride, Samantha?

Sammy Mitchell: I told you already, Peter, it's Sammy, not Samantha. And yes, I enjoyed the hell out of that! We never get to do anything like that back in Clarksville!

~Vaughn nods, glad that she's enjoying herself. In a strange twist of fate, Vaughn learned about Sammy's existence from a DNA test that Thomas had taken, showing familiar connections. Sammy turned out to be a half-sister for Vaughn, on his father's side, thanks to his dad needing to do anything to keep up being a sole parent in a tough economy. Namely, he sold himself to a sperm bank. Vaughn's still learning to connect with his new relative at this point, which led to today's impromptu adventure.~

Sammy Mitchell: So is this where we're camping for the night, Kennedy?

~The other guide turns to look at them, smiling.~

Kennedy: No, we'll need to hike a little bit to get up a little higher. But we're not far. So everyone grab your bags and get your gear together!

~She moves off, talking with the other guides, while Vaughn and Sammy head over to where Thomas has taken a seat.~

Sammy Mitchell: You survive the fall, Tommy?

Thomas Hill: It's not the fall that concerned me. It was the landing.

Peter Vaughn: Well, you survived it, and I didn't even have to kick you out of the plane, so be proud.

Thomas Hill: I still don't get this trip. If we wanted to 'bond' as family, couldn't we have gone to Las Vegas or something?

Sammy Mitchell: Where's the fun in that?

Peter Vaughn: You heard her. Now get up, let's get moving. Who knows how much daylight we have left.

Thomas Hill: Ahhh, man...

~Thomas reluctantly gets up, sighing, as they all start getting their stuff together for the next portion of the adventure. As they do so, none of them notice two eyes glinting at them from the darkness of the trees nearby, seemingly watching them.~


I'm always up for a new adventure.

Seems like I'm going to get one here in Sin City. The funny thing is, my original plan was just to watch my occasional friend Mac Bane win the championship. But then I saw Matthew Knox, and some old rage that I had kept bottled up managed to escape, and well, you saw the result. I figured Knoxsey would want a piece of me after that, and I was ready for it... but then he left. A true bummer.

I found myself needing to make a choice: did I interfere in a PPV just to leave without fighting anyone? Hell no. That's not my style. There are plenty of people here I've never fought, and I would hate to miss that opportunity when it's been presented to me.

Of course, that brings me to you, Miles. The first offering placed before me.

It's intriguing. Usually, when you first enter a federation, you're fed some of their worst wrestlers. When I went into the XWF, they made me fight a Literal Gorilla. I kid you not. But for some reason, I put my name on the dotted line for SCW, and they set me up to fight a former Roulette Champion. A man who was near the top of his game just a few months ago. A guy who should be in 'protected' status, and yet here we are, scheduled for my SCW debut.

I could look at that as an insult, but honestly, I see it as a show of respect. I suppose my notoriety is beginning to spread, as they knew that pitting me against a weakling would be a waste of effort. They want to see what I can really do. Hey, I can respect that. I'm all for facing a stiff challenge right out of the gate.

I have to wonder, though, Miles: are you still the challenge you seem?

I watched some video clips of your match against the Internet Champion, Alexander Raven. I saw how that ended, with you passing out in the Conspiracy. It was a pretty rough loss. Is that the reason you're curtain jerking against me? Has your confidence taken a hit, as you couldn't win another championship? Damn, I hope that's not the case. It would suck to get in there, expecting a massive battle, and having you turn into a wet noodle and give me nothing to work with.

You're supposed to be a cocky bastard. I'm hoping to see that at the show.

I know, you're hurting. The man you beat for the Roulette Title cleanly knocked your ass out to keep his Internet Title. It's a painful fall, to be sure. But you've got to shake it off, Miles. You've got to get back on your feet and give me the match I'm craving. I want the wrestling world to be in awe as we immediately blow things up to start the show. I want the fans drooling, chanting for more. I want the rest of the show ruined, because there's no way any of them can follow something like us.

But can you deliver on that, Miles? Do you have it in you? Can you at least go out there and pretend that you give a damn about fighting someone like me? Because if you're so cocky, you're probably going to be one of those that immediately just decides "He's a janitor, he'll be easy pickings". You know how many people's ribs I've fractured because they didn't take me seriously? That they didn't respect the Plunge, coming down on them?

Boyo, again, heed my warning: shake off that awful defeat you had and come at me with your best. Bring the fire, and don't let your ego shift you off track either way. Take me seriously, and give me whatever you've got left in your tank, and this could be epic.

Come at me half-assed, and your ass will pay the price. I'm just saying.


~We rejoin the hikers as they're making their way up the mountain. Vaughn looks to be perfectly fine, enjoying the workout, if nothing else. Sammy's holding up pretty well for a non-hiker, but then, she's in decent shape herself. It's Thomas, of course, who's struggling, working his way forward step by painful step. Vaughn slowly works his way back, stopping next to his half-brother.~

Peter Vaughn: You going to survive this, Thomas? Or should we find a nice burial site for you? Under that tree looks pretty nice...

Thomas Hill: Hah hah. How much... further do you think it is?

Peter Vaughn: I asked ahead. They said another 2-3 miles.

Thomas Hill: You're... you're kidding...

Peter Vaughn: I'm sure you'll make it without dying. Just think one step at a time. Left, right, left, right...

~Thomas groans, almost tripping, but Vaughn catches his arm, keeping him upright. They continue to move forward, around the next bend... where the three guides are already starting to set things up in the campsite.~

Thomas Hill: What? But... but you said...

Peter Vaughn: I know. But it feels good now, doesn't it, to get here so much quicker than you thought? You're welcome.

~Vaughn smirks and smacks his half-brother on his backpack, before turning and walking away. Seeing this, Sammy comes over, checking on him.~

Sammy Mitchell: You good, Tommy Boy?

Thomas Hill: ... I love Peter like a brother, but sometimes...

Sammy Mitchell: You wish you could hit him?

Thomas Hill: Yeah.

Sammy Mitchell: And then you remember he could kick your ass?

Thomas Hill: ... Yeah.

~Sammy chuckles for a moment, then helps Thomas get out of his pack.~

Sammy Mitchell: Look, from what I've seen, Petey, for all his bluster, must actually feel something for you. He wouldn't have brought you along if he didn't. The guy is... cut off, isn't he? He doesn't show that much emotion from what I've seen. So all you can do is go with the tiny clues he leaves you. Got it?

Thomas Hill: Yeah... yeah, I know...

Sammy Mitchell: And, of course, don't forget the other thing...

Thomas Hill: What?

Sammy Mitchell: That I can probably kick your ass, too.

~Sammy laughs, lifting her fists for a second, before turning and heading off to collect some firewood. Thomas watches her leave, shaking his head.~

Thomas Hill: She's definitely got some Vaughn in her...

~Thomas sighs, then goes to see what he can do to help, as we cut away again.~


I've been told I can be a bit of an asshole at times. I fully own that.

But that's what has made me a winner over the past year. It took me from mopping the backstage area before & after the events to being the headliner in the main event. So I make no apologies for my attitude.

I've heard tell that you and I might have that in common, Miles. From what Mac and Kat have said, you do have a pretty sharp tongue in that mouth of yours. It probably gets you into trouble sometimes, huh? You say the wrong thing, and suddenly the world is out to get you? Been there, done that. Never got the t-shirt, though.

For me, I've never been that subtle about the truth as I see it. I'll tell you exactly what I believe, and I won't shy away from that belief at all. For some, it's hard to take the truth thrown in your face, but I don't see the point in avoiding the hard facts. It ticks me off, really, when people tell me half-truths or lie via omission. I tend to ditch or KO people like that.

That being said, the hard fact is that you're going to get rocked at Climax Control. I'm probably going to knock you unconscious, if I get the opportunity. You're going to be forced awake via smelling salts from the referee or the backstage doctor, and you'll have questions about what happened, and you should know, it's not your fault. I'm just going to be that damn good.

Of course, that doesn't mean that if I have a chance to win via a small package or a crucifix pin, I'll ignore it. After all, the main goal is a victory, right? I won't let those opportunities pass me by. But it would certainly make a better first impression for the SCW faithful if I leave you unconscious in the center of the ring. So if I catch you in a victory roll, try to kick out, will you? Because I won't be able to help myself.

I'm just too invested in starting my SCW career at 1-0.

What are your numbers, Miles? Have you managed to cobble together a winning record in your time in SCW? I admit, I'm just a little too lazy to go check the archives, but I'm willing to bet you've got some quality wins under your belt. You wouldn't keep getting title shots if this wasn't the truth. I'm guessing you think of yourself as a winner, even after Raven played with you and threw you away like a cat's toy.

It may just not be your year, Miles. First Raven, and now Vaughn, and your record is slowly going the wrong direction. Is that a jerk move, pointing that out? Sorry. Like I said, I can't help but point out the truth, like how you're in freefall starting at #355.

It's going to be an extremely steep Plunge, boyo.


~The tents have been raised. The food has been eaten. All that's left now is drinking some cool beer around the campfire, even as the darkness overtakes the rest of the area. Some, like Sammy and Thomas, have already headed to their sleeping bags. Others, like Phil and Kennedy, have headed out into the forest, supposedly to 'check for supplies'. Most likely, something else is going on, but they're all adults here. That leaves Vaughn and Bobby as the last two around the fire.~

Bobby: So, Mr. Vaughn, you feel like your group is getting its money's worth on this adventure?

Peter Vaughn: I suppose so. Thomas may be complaining a lot, but I think he's getting some enjoyment out of it. It's harder to tell with Samantha, I mean, Sammy...

Bobby: Don't be trying too hard.

Peter Vaughn: Huh?

Bobby: Look, I've seen many groups take on this challenge, and there's usually a reason behind it. Yours is pretty clear. You want to connect with these members of your family that you didn't grow up with. It'll happen. Eventually. You just can't push it too hard.

~Vaughn takes a contemplative slug of his Yellow Rose, thinking things over before responding.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm not saying you're right... but I will admit, I'm still figuring out this "half-brother" and "half-sister" nonsense. I grew up an only child, most of it with only my father. So having actual family now... it's tough to know how to react.

Bobby: It'll come naturally, Mr. Vaughn. Journeys like this one will help. But nothing is guaranteed. You know that, right?

Peter Vaughn: Of course. Nothing's 100 percent. All you can do is stack the odds as high in your favor as you can.

Bobby: That's... one way of looking at it, I suppose.

~Vaughn gets up, finishing his beer and making sure to secure the bottle inside a trash bag. Despite his insistence at having moved on from being a janitor, Vaughn still can't stand leaving behind a mess of any kind. He turns to Bobby, pointing at the fire.~

Peter Vaughn: I guess it's about time for lights out, huh?

Bobby: If you're ready, sure. Good night, Mr. Vaughn.

Peter Vaughn: Night, Bobby.

~Vaughn turns and walks away towards his tent, as Bobby picks up a foldable bucket that they brought with them. He pours out what water he has there on the fire, causing it to hiss and smoke as the light goes out, leaving us in darkness.~


Thomas Hill: Peter...

Peter Vaughn: *grumble under breath*

Thomas Hill: Peter, c'mon, man, wake up...

Peter Vaughn: whaisit? whoisit? Huh?

~After a second, Vaughn finally pulls himself up, rubbing at his eyes. He looks around in the darkness, barely able to see his half-brother sitting up next to him. The two were forced to share a tent, since neither one was staying with their sister, obviously. Vaughn starts to reach for the flashlight, but Thomas stops him, trembling.~

Peter Vaughn: You have a nightmare or something? What's going on?

Thomas Hill: Keep your voice down! I think... something's out there...

Peter Vaughn: ... Something?

~Vaughn, shaking his head, again grabs the flashlight, this time pulling it away despite Thomas' objections. Before Vaughn turns the light on, though, there's the sound of a cracking branch from somewhere nearby. Vaughn freezes, thinking it over, as Thomas gulps audibly.~

Peter Vaughn: Could be the guides.

Thomas Hill: At 3 in the morning??

Peter Vaughn: Hell, sometimes sleep can be hard to come by. It happens to me all the time. I'll go check.

~Vaughn gets up, popping on his shoes with practiced ease. He then heads for the tent, reaching for the zipper.~

Thomas Hill: Hold on, but what if it's not them? What if... it's a grizzly bear?

~Vaughn looks back, holding onto the zipper as he stares at Thomas.~

Peter Vaughn: That's not a problem.

Thomas Hill: It's not?

Peter Vaughn: Nope. Because I know that I can at least out-run you, and one is all I need.

~With that, Vaughn unzips the tent and moves out, making as little noise as possible.~

Thomas Hill: You're... you're joking, right? Peter? Damn it...

~Whether it's to back his half-brother up or to get a head start, Thomas gets himself up and out of the tent as well. He looks around, seeing no sign of him. Nervous, Thomas steps around the tent, glancing in every direction. He starts to whisper.~

Thomas Hill: Peter? Peter??

~Thomas steps lightly, trying to avoid making any noise, as he moves around the camp. The other two tents seem undisturbed. Quietly, Thomas steps near the remains of the campfire, trying to figure out his next move. He waits, confused, as a shadowy figure suddenly appears behind him, raising something towards him... and then it stumbles back, arms flying into the air, as Vaughn grabs it from behind. Thomas leaps in terror, a mighty pounce that would have cleared the campfire if it was still lit. He spins around, even as we hear the other tents unzipping.~

Phil: What the hell's going on out there?

Bobby: Is it a bear? Damn bears, I've got my spray ready!

~The two guides pull themselves up, shining their flashlights towards the commotion. We see Thomas standing to the side, still not doing anything, while Vaughn appears to have a rather old-looking man trapped in a full nelson, keeping his arms in the air. An old shotgun can be seen, laying on the ground nearby.~

Prospector: Get yer damn fool hands offa me!!

Peter Vaughn: Not until you calm your ass down, gramps. Don't make me clench it in any tighter, I might dislocate your shoulder.

~Gasping, the older man finally stops fighting, as Vaughn continues to hold him in place. Bobby and Phil come over, with Bobby's eyes lighting up.~

Bobby: You're that crazy old prospector who lives out here, aren't you? What are you doing here?

Prospector: I... I ain't letting you take what I earned, fair and square! It ain't right!

Phil: ... What?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, you lost me, old man. You talking about that old shotgun over there? It looks like it'd explode if you ever tried to fire it.

Prospector: You... you're not here for my claim?

Peter Vaughn: We're here as camping tourists. We certainly didn't come for anything of yours.

Prospector: I don't believe you! I saw your packs! I saw your shovels!

Phil: You mean... the shovels we used to dig the latrine area?

Peter Vaughn: Trust me, you're not finding gold over there, so don't dig it up.

~The final tent unzips, with Sammy and Kennedy peeking their heads out.~

Sammy Mitchell: You guys aren't doing some weird backwoods initiation out here or something, right?

Peter Vaughn: We just had ourselves an intruder, Sammy. Nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep.

Sammy Mitchell: Yeah, right. Like that's going to happen.

~The ladies go back inside, as Vaughn carefully releases the old prospector from his hold.~

Peter Vaughn: You calmed down yet? I swear to you, we're not here for any gold or silver you've found up here.

Prospector: Gold? Who digs for gold anymore? No, I'm up here with my copper mine! Great money in copper these days! But you can't have any of it!

~Bobby, with nothing better to do, starts to reignite the fire, since everyone's awake, anyways. Phil heads off into the darkness, probably to get some more wood. In the meantime, Vaughn shoots a shrewd eye at the aging prospector.~

Peter Vaughn: So you've dug up a stockpile of copper, huh? You have a good collection of it?

Prospector: ... I ain't saying.

Peter Vaughn: And I suppose you can easily get it to town, right? So that you can start to cash in on it?

Prospector: ... I'm still workin' on that part of it, but I'll figure it out, you'll see!

Peter Vaughn: Interesting. It sounds like you might actually need a few mules to help you get supplies down the mountain, huh? So why don't we talk about it? Maybe we could... help each other. I've got a ranch, you see, and you'd be surprised how much copper comes up as a need...

~Putting on his best fake smile, Vaughn pulls the prospector over to the side, starting to debate his lack of ability to produce any profit on his copper mine. As they talk, Thomas moves to the side, shaking his head in wonder.~

Thomas Hill: I almost wish it WAS a grizzly bear now...

~From the side, we suddenly hear a dull growl, causing Thomas to jump and turn that direction. He gasps, running in the opposite direction, right past Vaughn and the prospector. Clearly, Thomas knows he needs to stay ahead of them. Vaughn glances back in the other direction, where Phil steps out of the darkness with a grin.~

Peter Vaughn: That wasn't much of a bear impersonation.

Phil: It worked, didn't it?

~Phil laughs, while the old prospector still looks confused and wary. Vaughn goes back to his sales pitch, trying to work out a deal between the two men, as we slowly fade out.~


I suppose that about wraps it up for us, Miles.

There's nothing more to say, really, other than I'm looking forward to giving you a beating at Climax Control. I'll be showing off all my best moves, I'm sure. The Insult To Injury. The Keyholder. Revenged. Really, whatever it takes to deliver as much punishment as possible. After all, you only get one chance to make a good first impression.

I'm looking forward to seeing what you gentlemen have here at Sin City. I'm betting it's going to be all I dream of and more, as I prepare myself for another great tournament showing and a tremendous brawl at my first show. You may not be Matthew Knox, of course, but I'll definitely take what I can get.

Boy, is this going to be a blast...

All I can say is, prepare yourself, Miles. Prepare yourself to feel some aches and pains for a while afterwards. Prepare yourself for possibly losing consciousness.

And prepare yourself for taking that Plunge. See you then.


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