The deep throbbing beat of a salsa rhythm competes with the low murmurs of a mixture of Spanish and Spanglish that could only belong to the natives and tourists filling this small little bar.  Above the bar, a neon light blinks and sizzles with the words La Rosa Negra in a bright pink with the rose under the words blinking in and out.

At a table in the corner, his head wreathed in the light blue smoke of a rather large and fragrant cigar sits Connor Murphy.  He leans back, the cigar resting in his fingers as he allows the smoke of one drag of the cigar to curl from his barely opened mouth.  A smile crosses his face as his eyes close.  Across from him, a cameraman is resting, a small hand held camera focused on Connor.

“I bet you think that I am here to talk about the fact that I am the underdog in the match this week.  You know what I think…I think that you are going to be waiting a long time for that,” says Connor before taking another drag from the stogie.

The cameraman shakes his head negatively as he films.  â€œI ain’t here for that senor,” he says in a very heavily accented English.  â€œI am here to get interview with you about Climax Control match you are in.”

Connor nods slowly as he exhales then picks up the short glass with a clear liquid inside of it.  Sipping at the drink, he winces at the burn then sets the glass on the littered tabletop.  â€œWell if that is the case, let’s get this interview on the road because I have some people to do and things to deal with.  So Fidel, what is your first question?”

The cameraman focuses closer to Connor as he relaxes, his arms draping over the back of the banquet seat at the table.  â€œWell senor, the first question is what are you planning to do in this match as you are definitely the smallest in the match and could very well suffer painfully against Wyatt and Casey.”  The fact that the cameraman would ask that of Connor is not lost on the man himself.

“Like I said, I am not worried too much about facing the pair of big men in the ring.  I am not going to sit here and quote people who believe that it is not the size of the dog in the fight but the fight in the dog that is going to determine the winner,” begins Connor as he leans back.  â€œI am at a disadvantage some would say because the two bigger men are going to be able to wipe the floor with me because I am not able to take the punishment.  Well I have something to say to that.  Bring it on!”

The cameraman smirks at that comment as he again focuses the camera on the face of Connor who puffs at the cigar with no clear worry evident.  â€œIf you don’t think you have to worry about the two men you are facing, maybe you worry about the type of match you are in.”

“A hardcore match?  That is almost like MY match!  You are probably sitting there sure that I would be like ‘oh no, whatever will I do?’ about being in that kind of match.  Might I remind you that it was ME that took Goth to the limit in the roulette title matches,” boasts Connor.  â€œThat is more than Casey could do.  I mean I was the closest to beating Goth and then he gets the shot at the Supercard and fails miserably.  If you ask me, Casey Williams is nothing more than someone that is tossed at people as a warmup.  And that is exactly how I am going to treat him on Climax Control.”

“But what about Wyatt Peterson, he is going to be one hell of a fight since he is probably out to prove that he still has it,” comments the cameraman only to hear Connor scoff in disbelief.  The look on the cameraman is comically as he doesn’t seem to realize that Connor isn’t impressed with the threat.

Connor looks down at the drink in his hand on the cigar that is resting on the ashtray smoldering away.  â€œDon’t get me wrong, this hardcore match is going to be a challenge,” offers Murphy.  â€œBut to actually sit there and count me out because this match is one small man against two giants.  Well, start calling me Jack because Sunday I am going to be a giant killer and there is nothing that those two will be able to do to stop me from chopping them down to size.”

“Is you crazy,” demands the cameraman.

“More than bat shit cray cray,” taunts Connor.  â€œYou have to be when you are in this position. “

“What position is that?” asks the cameraman as the focus of the camera tightens on Connor’s face.

“The winning position muchacho,” teases Connor as he shoots the last of the clear liquid, wincing again as it singes down his throat.  Before the cameraman can make another comment, Connor pushes up from the table and heads towards the bar, ignoring the cough of the cameraman as he tries to get his attention.  Once at the bar, Connor is approached by a senorita in a tight dress who leans into the man and whispers something into the ear of the young Irishman who smiles and with a nod is lead away.

 Scene:  Nobody knows the trouble you’ve seen…

A man sits on a beach side cabana café watching the crystal blue waters off the coast.  At his elbow, a glass with an amber liquid sits and drips onto the coaster under it as a small stream of smoke trails around it from the exhalation of the man.  He is leaning back in a chair, his eyes covered by dark shades, his skin a pale shade of sunburn as he relaxes.  If you were watching the man, you would think he had no cares in the world.

If you knew the man, you would know how wrong you were…

Voice:  Connor Murphy, I hope this is your idea of a joke!

Connor sits up, his hand reaching for his sunglasses as a smile creases his face, the laugh lines deepening around his eyes as he takes in Pussy Willow dressed to kill in a light cotton dress that suggested innocence and sin all in one.  Slowly rising to his feet, Connor moves over to the opposite chair and holding out a hand, reaches to invite Pussy to sit down.

Connor Murphy:  Darlin’ this is no joke I swear.  I decided that there was things to say and the one woman that I could say them to is you and only you.  And that is why I called you here.

Pussy Willow sniffs angrily.

Pussy Willow:  If I had known it was you Connor, I so wouldn’t be here right now talking to you when I could be somewhere else.  After all, all you do is tease me and flirt then nothing happens…sometimes I think you are only using me because I am an interviewer and you need to get a message out.

Connor lays a hand over the faded shirt that is covering his chest.  Hanging his head almost apologetically, he sighs and nods.

Connor Murphy:  You are right Pussy, I have been very naughty and abusive of our friendship.  Let me get you a drink and the two of us will have a nice long natter about what is going to be happening on Climax Control then I will buy you dinner to make it up to you.  Deal??

Pussy lets a little smile cross her lips as she bites at her bottom lip.  Giving Connor a calculating look, she nods once before pulling out a small recorder and sets it on the table between them. While Ms Willow was searching for the small machine, Connor waved over the waiter motioning for two beer.  The young man walks to the table after drawing both glasses and sets them on the table.  Connor holds up a five dollar bill and then waves off the waiter with a grin.  The gleeful server murmurs ‘gracias’ as he backs away from the pair.  Ready for the interview, Pussy begins to speak.

Pussy Willow:  well Connor, this week on Climax Control you have a chance once again for the Roulette title in a match against the man that beat you for the belt at Summer XXXTreme, Goth.  I don’t know about you Connor but it seems to me that you are circling the titles and everytime you get close to winning only to miss the brass ring.  

Connor Murphy:  Well darlin’ that is kinda hurtful, true but hurtful none the less.  Can I help it if there are people that need to cheat to get where they need to be or win titles when they know they have no other option.

Pussy Willow:  Are you implying that Goth cheated to win the roulette title?

Connor just laughs as Pussy lifts her glass and sips at the beer suspiciously before he is able to control his mirth.

Connor Murphy:  Pussy love, I am not implying anything.  I am just telling it like it is.  See Goth knew that I was the only one that had any chance of beating him for the title and what happened hmmm?  He needed to use fire to beat me.  He wasn’t man enough to tough it out and took the easy win.  But that is fine because if he can sleep with himself for taking the shortcut, so be it.  Whereas I on the other hand know that I am someone that is willing to bleed to get what I want.  I am willing to go the extra mile to take what I have deserved since I got into this company.  I am the only one bat shit crazy enough to make that title something of worth once more.

Pussy Willow:  But Connor, to hear Goth talk about the belt, he says he is the only one that is worthy to be Roulette champion.  And given his track record, he has quite the win loss stats.  Not that you aren’t good enough but time and time again, you come up just short..

Pussy holds up her fingers only a few inches apart which makes Connor wince at the double entendre.

Connor Murphy:  Tis true, I do manage to beat myself up about that.  But something tells me that this night when I face Goth, it isn’t going to be the same.  At Climax Control, I am not focused on the one thing that everyone else thinks I should be.

Pussy Willow:  You aren’t focused on winning the title?

Connor Murphy:  That is the reward I will get after my match.  My focus is squarely on the man that burned me for the title.  My focus is on maiming him and making him realize that Nobody is going to let anything stand in the way of revenge.

Pussy looks at Connor in surprise as he leans forward, his hands clenched into fists.  Leaning forward herself, she lays her own hand over one of his fists.

Pussy Willow:  This is a different Connor Murphy talking.  I mean you usually talk tough but sitting here, I am getting the impression that something in you has changed.

Connor Murphy:  Oh I haven’t changed Pussy m’love.  I have just realized that I was taking things too easy.  I was treating all of this as a bit of a lark when it came to my matches and what I was doing in the ring.  I have learned that maybe I need to bring back the old Connor.

Pussy Willow:  The old Connor?  You mean the NXT rogue Connor?

A cynical smile crosses Connor’s face as he slowly shakes his head.

Connor Murphy:  I wish it was that simple but no.  That Connor wouldn’t be crazy enough for a Roulette title match.  That Connor would be suitable for the Internet title or maybe the tag titles. Let me tell you a story Pussy…

Connor lets his fingers unclench as he picks up his glass and drains it in one drink.  Setting it back on the table top, he motions for another as he begins his story.  Pussy listens in fascination.

Connor Murphy:  The streets of Ottawa can be rather cold where I grew up.  Lowertown was a sad, depressing little section of the city where gangs ran rampant and the boys needed to be tough.  The home I spent the most time in was a dirty rundown house on a side street.  My bedroom that I shared with three others looked out on a school yard what was decorated with graffiti.  I was thirteen when I was fostered there and sixteen when I was pulled out.  I was known as a delinquent.  I seem to remember my foster dad calling me bad seed.  But I was tough.  I fought my way into acceptance in that school yard.  

Connor pulls up his shirt slightly to reveal a jagged white scar traced along his abdomen.  Pussy looks closer.

Pussy Willow:  An appendix scar?

Connor Murphy:  I wish it was.  I still have my appendix, this was my initiation into that school yard.  I was fourteen and this is from a small knife that a bigger boy pulled when I had him on his back.  See, no matter what the case, when I get in that zone, nothing tends to stop me except something that takes a shortcut.

Pussy Willow:  I think I understand what you are talking about Con…

Connor Murphy:  No Pussy m’love, I don’t think you do.  When I was fourteen, I fought for my life and won.  I ain’t afraid to die.  Summer XXXTreme I burned but I survived and I learned.  Now on Climax Control when I have a chance to once again face Goth, this time I am not going to hold back.  I am not going to worry about sending him home to his little wifie a beaten and broken man because that isn’t what I have planned knowing that is something that won’t get to Goth.  No, beating him won’t cause the most pain…

The last comment is said almost to himself as Pussy tilts her head in confusion.

Pussy Willow:  You would cause him pain by beating him Connor.  A win will hurt won’t it?

Connor Murphy:  I could win Pussy, but what if I win by disqualification?  What if I win by Goth slithering out of the ring like the snake he is and by being counted out.  No, that won’t hurt him in the least.  The only way that I can hurt Goth, the only way he is going to feel the pain is if I take something he loves.

Pussy Willow:  Are you threatening to take his wife like Shipman did?

Connor’s harsh bark of laughter sets Pussy back slightly as he lunges towards the recorder.

Connor Murphy:  Come on Pussy, we both know that won’t hurt Goth.  His wife is not the first love of Goth’s life.  Oh he will say she is but I know that she is a distant third to the real loves of his life…the title and the spotlight.  There isn’t anything that you could say that will make me believe otherwise.  

Pussy Willow:  Very harsh words Connor.  What do you think that is going to do to Goth and how do you think he is going to react to your comments?

Connor Murphy:  I don’t really care anymore Pussy.  I am tired, damn tired of listening to Goth and his rants about how good he is and how he will be keeping the title because he is the best.  Do you know what I have to say to that darlin’?

Pussy Willow: No, what?

Connor Murphy:  On Sunday at Climax Control in that main event when all is said and done, there will be only one man standing and one man holding that title in his bloody hand and that man is going to be me!

Pussy Willow’s eyes widen in surprise at how vicious Connor sounds.  Taking a slow breath, she reaches across the table for the recorder.  The slight movement snaps Connor out of the frenzied trance he seems to be in.  The intensity on his face fades as a smile then crosses it.

Connor Murphy:  Now Pussy m’love, since I got that all off my chest, what say you and I hit this city and get dinner, my treat.

Pussy narrows her eyes slightly with concern.

Pussy Willow:  Are you sure?  I mean you do have to get ready for your match.

Connor Murphy:  I would rather take a beautiful woman out for dinner.  

Pussy Willow:  Well in that case, let’s go.

Scooping up her recorder, she hides it in her purse as Connor gets to his feet as well.  Motioning for her to go ahead of him out of the door, Connor and Ms Willow leave the café both intent on their now lowered conversation as the door closes behind them.

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Scene:  Nobody knows your sorrow…

The quiet of the night is only broken by the sounds of a man walking along.  Connor Murphy has a black hoodie over a pair of ratty jeans and a faded Dropkick Murphys shirt.  Dark hair falls over his eyes as he squints into the faint light of the site of Climax Control.

Moving into the arena where Sunday he would be competing in the main event, he makes his way to the backstage area where he searches for and finds the wheel of matches.  A smile breaks over his face as he lets his finger trail along the curve of it, tugging gently that draws the faintest click of the indicator moving between spikes.

Connor Murphy:  Would you look at that.  Up close and personal I am with the wheel that will decide how I take your title on Sunday Goth.  I could sit here and spin and spin and spin this wheel and watch it click towards your fate.  

Connor reads along the curved surface, his finger tracing the match type as it is indicated by the arrow.  Spinning the wheel, he watches and listens as the clickety clack of the indicator slows and then stops at inferno match which causes a slight chuckle from the challenger.

Connor Murphy:  Lookie here, an inferno match, probably the one match you would want most of all seeing as you like playing with fire.  See, that is okay with me because since you last singed me, I have taken to playing with my own fire.  I keep lighting up the ring with my own brand of crazy.  I am like a pyro in search of pile of trash to burn.  And guess what, if I am lucky enough to get the inferno match on Sunday, I will have found it in you Goth.

Reaching once more for the wheel, Connor again spins it crazily.  His head spins slightly with the wheel as it slows then stops on another stipulation, this time the words spell out ladder match.

Connor Murphy:  Maybe we will be lucky and get this match Goth.  A match that will see your title taken out of your hands and hanging above the ring.  A match that will see the two of us beating each other bloody and black and blue, all for the chance to lay out our opponent and climb the ladder to glory.

Connor spins the wheel then he lets it slow but not stop before he spins it again.  He keeps spinning it over and over again as he speaks as if Goth is listening.

Connor Murphy:  It is not going to matter Goth what stipulation happens on Sunday.  It is not going to make a difference what match type is chosen for us to fight.  The only thing I am looking for is the chance to hurt you.  The only desire I have right now is to make you feel pain like you haven’t felt before.  My ONLY want is to put you down like some kind of rabid animal and let you watch as I lift the Roulette title over you and let Justin Decent make that announcement that is going to set your blood to boiling as it slowly drips on the canvas.

Stopping the wheel, Connor turns his back on it and looks into the darkness surrounding the backstage areas.

Connor Murphy:  I can hear you now Goth.  Talking and whispering and trying to convince yourself you are ready to take me out and prove once again you are the beast of Sin City.  I know what you must be thinking Goth, I can smell the wood burning from here.  You are thinking that I am a Nobody and that is all I am ever going to be.  While you are the elite as the Roulette Champion and there isn’t anyone or anything that will stop you.  And that will be where you are wrong Goth.

Connor brings a finger up and gently taps at his temple as a vicious smile begins to creep across his face.

Connor Murphy:  I’ve got it right here Goth…I have the strategy that is going to stop you and boy is it a good one.  I bet you want to know what it is, I bet you are going to try and convince yourself of how invincible you are.  But we both know Goth that you aren’t invincible hmmm.

Connor’s smile widens, the maniacal gleam lights up his eyes.

Connor Murphy:  I have beaten you before Goth, do you remember.  It may not have been for the title you were wearing at the time but I DID beat you.  And on Sunday, I am going to do it again and again.  This time though, this time it is for the title and this time I am going to take the title and there will be little to be done about it.  

Connor begins to walk away but stops when he realizes that his thought was not complete.  Holding up one finger, he turns back to the wheel then the darkness of the backstage area, his eyes seemingly focused on an unseen Goth.

Connor Murphy:  That is right.  The little that can be done is accept the fact that I am coming to beat the holy hell out of you and take your title.  

Connor smirks then turns and walks away softly singing a song for Goth.

Connor Murphy:  Nobody knows the troubles you’ve seen…Nobody knows your sorrows

Connor stops and turns.

Connor Murphy:  This Nobody knows the trouble you’ll see…This Nobody will know your sorrows

Connor rounds the corner and disappears, the sound of his singing carried back faintly until it fades.

 On the boat, sitting in the lounge at the elaborate bar, a man can be seen, his hand wrapped around a crystal glass as he contemplates the amber liquid inside it.  Around him the atmosphere is one of joyous vacationers enjoying the floating feed trough that is the buffet or a sea of testosterone as men on the downhill side of middle age hoping to slow down that slope by sidling up against the hard body of some barely legal girl looking for a sugar daddy.

Connor Murphy brings the glass to his lips, the alcohol stinging as it slides down his throat.  Taking extreme care as he lowers the glass shows that he has been at the bar more than he needed and he was more than a little intoxicated.  Two seats away a man can be heard talking to a young woman.

Man:  What do those pretty boys have that I don’t babe?  I mean really…I can take those jackasses on with one hand behind my back.  So why don’t you quit whining about wanting to see the wrestlers work out and you come with me and I will show you a work out like you never had before.

Young Woman:  But honey…I wanna go see those wrestlers with their hot bodies.  You know they turn me on and when  I am turned on, I am very turned on for you baby.  

Connor’s lip curls at the whining of the young woman.  

Connor Murphy:   Please shut her up man, I am not interested in listening to a whiny bitch.  I hear enough of them at work.  And technically this is supposed to be my semi work vacation, I figure the whining shouldn’t f*ckin’ happen until the supercard.  Although from what I hear, the pissing and moaning has already started hence me here and away from it.

The pair turn to Connor who isn’t even looking in their direction.  The man’s chest puffs slightly as he sees the scruffiness of Connor who is dressed in a pair of dirty ripped jeans and a black zipped up hoodie over a Dropkick Murphys shirt.  One hand plays with a cigarette lighter, clicking and flicking it as if ready to light a cigarette, the other remains closed loosely around the glass.  Getting to his feet, the man approaches Connor and leans forward slightly.

Man:  I beg your pardon mister.  I don’t think she was talking to you so just butt the hell out.  

Connor holds his drink up, nonchalantly toasting the man who begins to sputter at Connor’s insolence.  The woman peers closely at Connor, a dawning smile of recognition flitting across her face.

Young Woman:   You’re Connor Murphy!  

Connor lets a lopsided grin split his face.

Connor Murphy:   Give Missy here a prize, she got it in one.

The young woman claps her hands excitedly and jumps up to cling to the man who is still posing and blustering to one side.

Young Woman:  Oh em gee honey, can you believe it!!  Connor Murphy knows my name!  Ooooo this is so exciting!  

She tugs and pulls at the man’s shirt with her excitement.  Connor’s smile widens as he turns ever so slightly towards the couple and raises his glass in a mocking manner.

Connor Murphy:   I also know the name of this gentleman right here.  So Missy, here’s to you and Bitchy McBitcherson over here, may your shag be long and may it shut his whining up.  Pretty soon, you are going to be the man in this little couple because from the looks of it, you are the one with the balls.

With that comment, Connor upends the drink and downs it with a smirk.  The man lets his mouth fall open at the audacity of the wrestler who gives the young woman a pat on the ass as he gets to his feet and quickly jots his name on the bar tab.

Connor Murphy:   Later toots and you too Missy.

Completely ignoring the sputtering male who is being held back by his girlfriend who is rubbing his chest and pouting at him with a starf*ck gleam in her eyes, Connor walks purposely from the bar and down a passageway.  

Suddenly from one of the doors, a figure can be seen leaving a stateroom.  Recognizing the hoodie, Connor moves quickly to catch up with the figure, matching his steps to the angry stride.

Connor Murphy:     Just the man I want to talk to.  You gonna start talkin’ to Lex or am I gonna have to knock some sense inta the both of you?  Tonight’s training was useless.  The girl was drunk off her ass and that ain’t…

The figure stops mid stride and turns on Connor which sets him back slightly.

Tim Staggs:    Well, clearly I don't own Lex, so maybe this is a conversation for her. She doesn't freaking listen to me anyway...

Tim's anger gives way only for a moment as it is clear that beneath the anger, is an ocean of sadness. Tim quickly collects himself, resuming his angry stance which for only a moment brings a smirk to Connor’s face before it is wiped off by a growl from his fellow Nobody.

Connor Murphy:   Look I ain’t Dear Abby but don’t get me wrong, I ain’t supposed to be your babysitter either.  You want to be pissed, be pissed but we need to keep it professional for the ring if we are going to shut the fuckers up.

Tim only scowls and nods as the pair begin to head down the passageway again.  Connor breaths shallowly as he keeps sending sideways glances at Tim.  Finally having enough, Tim growls what in Connor’s direction.   Connor nonchalantly puts his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Connor Murphy:   You want to talk about it man?

Tim Staggs:  No I DON’T want to talk about it!  

Connor Murphy:   That’s fine but you know I am gonna hear about it from Vix so I am giving you the opportunity to gimme your side of it.

Tim continues to scowl but then let’s his face go blank.  Connor can sense the tension but doesn’t push too much to get him to talk.  The pair push open doors to let themselves outside onto the deck.  Connor pulls out a pack of cigarettes and takes one out, looks at Tim then offers him the pack.  As the younger man pulls his own cigarette out of the carton, Connor sparks his silvered lighter.  Once the cherry glow of his cigarette is well established, he offers the flame to Tim who inhales deeply then hisses the smoke out.

Tim Staggs:   You saw what he did Con, he invited the bitch that birthed me on the cruise.

Connor stands there, leaning on the rail and looks out into the ocean.  Tim joins him as the two let the smoke curl around them.

Connor Murphy:   Yeah I saw man.  Ain’t gonna lie and tell ya that was a shitty thing to do and I ain’t gonna tell you that you need to get over it.  Truth is your Dad’s proud of ya even if he has a fucked up way of showing it.

Tim turns on Connor, eyes blazing in his anger

Tim Staggs:   You are damned right about the fact it was fucked up.  So that give you the right to lecture me?  I wasn't afraid to shut daddy up, so why would I give a second thought to shutting up a Nobody in denial like Acquin? I've got my own back here, same as I always have. If you want the reins, feel free to take them, but it's going to cost you your fucking sanity, that much I promise.

Taking the last drag from the cancer stick, Connor flings the butt into the darkness then rounds on Tim, his anger starting to rise.

Connor Murphy:   Listen Tim, I ain’t about taking over, that just interferes with my fun.  And I got your back, you and I both know that so take your pity party to someone that is gonna care about it.  You grew a set against your Dad and Vixen and the rest of us, don’t put em back into your purse boyo.

Tim breaks his gaze first with a growl and then gets right in Connor’s face.

<bTim Staggs:   You know what Connor, fuck you man.  I don’t need this shit from you either you know.

Connor Murphy:   I’m the only one Tim that is willing to keep it real and be open with you when it comes to the Nobodies.  That’s what I believe in doing with the two of us.  That’s called respect man and if you can’t handle it maybe you need to rethink what you are doing.  

Connor’s finger stabs into the shoulder of Staggs who growls and clenches his fists.  Connor can see he is pissing the younger man off and let’s a smirk cross his face.  Tim reacts explosively to that smirk with a huff of air as he brushes past Connor and heads back inside.  The older man watches him go before tugging at his hoodie and smirking more as he turns his back and heads in the opposite direction.

Connor Murphy:   Guess my work here is done.

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The ring technicians for Sin City Wrestling finish up the final touches on the framework for the Ultimate X match.  The pool where defeat will splash down looks innocent enough as does the wiring and steel frame of the ultimate X apparatus.  With their work done, the guys head off down the deck as a figure moves out of the shadows and into the light.  Connor Murphy is there, another hooded masked person behind him with what looks like a camera with a built in microphone.  Connor motions for the hooded man to begin filming as he makes his way over to the strut that holds up one of the wires and rests a hand against it, speaking to the camera but not looking at it.

Connor Murphy:   This is it, the place where the Roulette title is going to be fought over and five men are going to be dropped like they are hot into the pool right there.  See, gonna be a swimmingly good time I bet for somebody, actually for everybody with one exception.  Nobody is going to be getting wet in this match.

A forced laugh escapes Connor as a fuller chuckle is heard from the Nobody filming him.  Connor continues to speak as he caresses the strut lovingly.

Connor Murphy:   Been an interesting cruise to say the least.  A lot of great drinking and food places as well as a great gym and workout area but nothing is going to be able to prepare us for the match at Summer XXXTreme you know.  I did some research and last year the Bombshell Roulette title was competed for in the match that this year will see the men do the same only this year, there won’t be any trampolines or weapons that I know of.  But this year there will be blood and there might just be some ultra-violent moves used by some of us in the match.  In essence, we are basically out to toss people into the water.

Connor looks around and then pulls himself on the rim of the pool and sets one foot into the support and pulls himself onto the battleground and gets to his feet.  Looking down at the Nobody filming, he smirks as he crouches downward.

Connor Murphy:   This match has been high profile since the beginning.  And last Climax Control we were supposed to have all the players involved in a tag match that I ended up losing because of my partner which gave Goth and TNA a psychological advantage so to speak going into this match at the supercard.  Good thing that I am psycho enough not to be bothered by wins and losses in matches that have no real value in my opinion.  So this is why I am focusing on the match on this ship.

It is a match that could see one of us retain the Roulette title, maybe see a championship regained.  Or could see a new champion crowned.  Being the betting man that I am, I seriously could see only two real results happen.

Connor sits down and swings his leg over the side of the support as he looks upwards collecting his thoughts.

Connor Murphy:   I know that I have some definite ideas about my opponents and I am sure they have their ideas of just what I am capable of in this match.  

Nobody:   They are probably saying that you have a snowballs chance in hell of winning the title Connor.  If I was you, I would verbally rip em a new one then at the supercard, physically rip em one.

The camera moves up and down in a nodding motion that causes the image of Connor to move in and out of focus on the viewfinder.

Connor Murphy:   Yeah, rip em a new one.  Okay consider it done.

Connor clears his throat and begins to speak.

Connor Murphy:   Ultimate X for the Roulette title.  Six men and only one can walk out the champion.  Literally walk out the champion because the other five will have to swim out of the match soaking wet losers as one by one they are dumped into the pool below like so many chums for the sharks.  Our fans, rabid and shark like wanting to see people suffer as they fall into the water where it will be tinged red with blood.  And believe you me, blood will be spilled for sure.  You have six men on this platform where only one can remain standing and that one will look down at the five others floundering in the pool, covered in damp defeat.  And that one will be the man to walk out with the Roulette title.  

Some people say that Goth, the current champion has the lock on this title because he has his reason for being back in his possession.  His lovely little wifie is on the cruise with him after that horrific time she spent as the victim of Shipman.  It makes one wonder if Goth has everything under control in the event that Shipman is lurking behind every corner.  Will his focus be on the match or will it be split with wondering if his wife’s tormentor could strike at any moment and take his wife back.  What might happen if he looks out to find his Sapphira and she isn’t there?  Will he throw away the title to go to find her or will he let her suffer to keep his title?  Decisions decisions Goth and what will you decide?  What means more to you?  

And speaking of decisions, the decision of letting Jeremiah Hardin take part in this match was ill-advised if you ask me.  Let me put it to you as plainly as I can, the man has done nothing spectacular to even deserve to be in this match with us.  If I am honest, the only thing he is good for right now is the first to be eliminated and give the fans their first victim of the match.   As much as I want to sit here and rip on him, he is more of a nobody than I am.

Connor reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes to pull out the last one and then slide it between his lips.  Crunching the pack in one fist, he uses his other to snap open his lighter and apply the flame to his cigarette.

Connor Murphy:   So I talked about Jeremiah Hardin and the champ, guess now I can talk about the chump of the group, Travis Nathaniel Andrews.  The man thinks he is all that and a bag of chips.  And so far, he keeps falling in the shit and coming up smelling like a geedee rose for f*ck’s sake.  Lying and cheating to get the cheap wins.  Using his little minded Ralph for help doesn’t help at all.  The man should grow a set bigger than raisins and realize that having someone give him the win doesn’t make him a man.  

Speaking of the man, Steve Ramone claims he is the one.  Man that is.  And I gotta tell you the only man thing he has done has used his superkick to piss off Tim and the Nobodies.  And now he gets to face one in the ring.  Only good thing about it is that it is me and not Tim because Tim’s not a really happy person these days and when he gets like this, not even family is safe.  And Stevie, you aren’t family so what he has planned for you I can only guess.  But what I have planned for you involves this foot connecting to your teeth and sending them right down your throat so when you surface in that pool and spit out the water you are going to be swallowing, a couple of teeth will be spit out as well.

And Raab, he’s my violent buddy who knows just what I am looking for in this match.  But what he doesn’t know is that I want to make people feel the pain that I have grown up with.  Feel the frustration I have felt for the last few years.  Feel how it is to be overlooked, under estimated and suffer at the hand of people that don’t give a shit about just what it is that makes me tick.  Honestly, the only one that has even given me any respect in this match is Raab and for that, I will take him to the final two with me and then the only two that really deserve to have that title will be fighting it out for the title.

Pausing, Connor takes a long drag from the slim cancer stick and  points down at the camera as he once again picks up the thread of his comments.

Connor Murphy:   Listen guys, as much as I want to be sitting here on this rigging, I have to get ready for the match and that means I have to relax, and prepare.  There are drinks to have and film to study and just when you think that you have heard it all, I am sure that I am going to read everything that has been said about me and this match.

Getting to his feet, Connor puts the cigarette in his mouth then climbs down from the platform.  The Nobody filming him turns off the camera and takes it from his shoulder.  Connor finally makes it to the deck and then puts an arm around the shoulder of the Nobody who leans into the side of Murphy.

Connor Murphy:   So whatcha say we go for round two with Jack and Jose Cuervo?

With a nod, the two of them pull open a door and heads towards the bar after Connor flicks the cigarette overboard,

 After Climax Control…

Connor Murphy is one pissed off Nobody if you were to ask him.  And it didn’t help that after the show, a cameraman came to get a soundbyte from the angered man.  Pacing in the hallway in a blood splattered hoodie and jeans, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and a bottle of some clear liquid held loosely in his hand, Connor agrees to providing a comment,

Connor Murphy:  Climax Control, a loss due to the fact that Acquin decided to put his nose in business that didn’t involve him.  And Ramone, that man was a short leash away from the shit kicking he deserved.  And then there was Raab the big burning baby attacking me from behind just because he could.    Bravo boys, you got my attention but seriously you gotta ask yourself if you really wanted it focused in your direction!

Connor takes a long healthy swallow of the alcohol in the bottle then once again faces the camera.

Connor Murphy:  Yeah, the wrong kind of attention if you ask me.  See this Nobody is violent and this Nobody holds grudges and this NOBODY is going to do his damnedest to bury all of you.  I had that match with Hardin until you all gave him the helping hand and beat me for him.

Cameraman:  Ummm Connor, I don’t think that is the truth…

Connor Murphy:  Who is giving this soundbyte, you or me?

Cameraman:  You of course.

Connor gets a very sinister look on his face.

Connor Murphy:  Then shut your trap and let me give you what you begged me for.  Now as I was saying tonight’s debacle was nothing short of a mugging.  And trust me when I tell you, Nobody is going to be getting some personal justice when it counts.  The next time I am in the ring for Sin City, you can better believe that will be the first time that I am going to start getting payback.

With that vow, Connor turns to walk away, the bottle in his hand raised to his lips as the cameraman turns the opposite way, a snicker escaping him as he does.  Connor stops, his body rigid as he turns his head to look at the unsuspecting cameraman then at the half empty bottle in his hand.  Quietly he walks back to the cameraman and taps him on the shoulder.  As he turns, Connor slams the bottle against the side of his head.  The sound of the breaking bottle is masked by the slamming of the cameraman’s body against the wall.  As Connor walks away, the cameraman slides down the wall to slump on the floor.

Samoan tag match…

Connor Murphy:  I am not getting into a skirt!

Connor Murphy is walking along the market place, his guide a young man who smirks at him as he holds up a native cloth and describes how it is to be worn.  Connor holds his hands up in defense as he backs slowly away.  As he does, he backs right into a woman who bitterly complains as she turns around only to roll her eyes at who it is.

Pussy Willow:  Oh god, its’s you Connor.  I’m sorry that I got in your way.

Connor lets a half hearted smile cross his face.

Connor Murphy:  Pussy m’love, just the person I was looking for.  I was wondering where you might have gone and what a Nobody like me would have to do to get your attention.  I need to send a message and since you and I have this oh so special relationship, there isn’t anyone that I would trust to get my message across.  So you don’t happen to have a camera in your bag there do you?

Connor starts to paw through her bag only to have Pussy slap his hands away.

Pussy Willow:  You want me to interview you here and now?  Connor, there is a time and place for this kind of thing.  

Connor Murphy:  Yeah, here and now!  Listen, I will make it quick and I won’t take up too much of your precious shopping time.  But I have to escape Man Friday here and I also have to talk about my match this week.

Pussy shrugs and sighs as she digs into her purse and pulls out a hand held camera to begin filming Connor.

Connor Murphy:  I don’t have much time to talk about my match this week because I have been fighting down my gag reflex at the fact that I am being put in a tag match with my opponent from last week to face Goth and TMZ..

Pussy Willow:  You mean TNA…Travis Nathaniel A.

Connor interrupts Pussy with a smile and a nod to acknowledge her correction.

Connor Murphy:  Yeah that useless no talent that can only do one thing and that is fuck things up for everyone like he always does.  Listen, it is bad enough that I am in a tag match with Hardin and luckily for us and especially him, Steve Ramone isn’t going to be there.  But to have to carry those other two in the match, I should have to be paid twice.

Pussy Willow:  Goth and TNA are good wrestlers though and you right now are not the best of friends with anyone but your running buddies in the Nobodies.

Connor Murphy:  You say that like it is a bad thing Pussy when that is farthest from the truth because the Nobodies are the voices of the voiceless.  We bring to light the stupidity and mediocracy of the talent in SCW.  Take for instance this tag match.  We have TMZ..

Pussy Willow:  TN…

Connor Murphy:  Yeah yeah,I know.  We have Travie who is a strutting bantam cock with a superiority complex and then we have Goth.  Our sad little wifieless clown.  What’s the matter Goth, Shipman got your wife?  

Pussy Willow:  That isn’t nice Connor, he is really upset with what Shipman has done.

Connor tries to look sympathetic.

Connor Murphy:  Goth, I have to sympathize with the fact your wife is becoming Swedish.  If I had to look at you every day I would definitely have Stockholm Syndrome too.  I mean maybe she is glad she was saved by Shipman.

Pussy Willow:  Oh my god Connor.  If you are going to be like that I don’t want to finish this interview at all.  You need to realize that being like this is so wrong.

Connor Murphy:  No Pussy, SCW and the world need to realize that it has to embrace the truth.  Embrace the fact that we, the Nobodies are the only ones that can be trusted.  That we are the ones that tell it like it is and how it will be.  And I am telling you that this week, I am going to stand in that ring and carry Hardin.  I am going to take the fight to Goth and Travie and when we get on that f’ckin boat I am going to beat everyone for the Roulette championship!

Pussy pulls the camera down as Connor crosses his arms over his chest to glare at the camera.

Pussy Willow:  Are you done?

Connor Murphy:  I’m done speaking but I am not done by a long shot when it comes to beating people this week.  I will finish that at Climax Control.

Without saying another word, Connor stalks off leaving Pussy to watch him walk away.

 Straight Shooting after Climax Control

Connor steps backstage, the halls of the locker rooms empty and quiet, only the sound of hard boots hitting the floor is heard before he speaks.

Connor Murphy:  I underestimated you Raab and I want to thank you for proving something to myself.  You proved that I need to see this not as the Roulette title that it is but that the gold is more damaged than all the other titles in SCW.  I mean I could have rested on the fact that it was a brutal match and I began to even like it but I didn’t go far enough in our prison match.

Hanging his head for a moment, he rests a hand over his chest like breathing hurt.  Looking back up, Connor addresses the camera lens that is focused on him indicating that someone is there with him.  

Connor Murphy:  I know Raab that when we meet at the supercard you have a definite advantage when it comes to the title.  You hold it and you don’t back down from the challenge of people like me coming for their shot.  And you don’t make it easy either considering that you are some kind of monster who controls the elements in this match and dictate that it is a violence title.  Fine, you can try bullying me again but this time I have taken your measurement and I know just how much more dangerous I have to be.  And trust me I will be that much more dangerous.  

A sick smile begins to flicker over his lips as he realizes what he is saying for the moment.

Connor Murphy:  That is right Raab.  I am throwing caution to the desert winds and stepping into the ring with a violent intent.  I know what I should have done tonight and I will be doing at Into the Void.  And even if I didn’t win tonight, I am using tonight as the dress rehearsal for when I come to take the title at the supercard.  And I also have something to say to that little bitch that decided to step into the ring after we beat the shit out of each other.  

Connor’s face contorts with anger as a fist clenches over his chest.

Connor Murphy:  I am talking about you Travis.  Like the little bitch I called you, you crawled in and took advantage of the fact that Raab and I were at the limits of our fight and both of us were recovering.  I saw how you took advantage of Raab when he was down and then once I got to my feet, I had you attack me too.  Brav fucking o bitch boy.  Raab accuses me of not being worthy of this title and I know it was me that kicked his ass enough that you were able to slip in and get him at a weak point.  And that you will get a chance to have a shot at the Violence title just like I will at the supercard.  And at Into the Void I am going to be able to get revenge for your attack.  

Connor Murphy:  Maybe what I should do is work with Raab to pay you back for the attack.  Yeah that will be a fun time as the two of us kick the snot out of you before the pair of us take the match to a level of violence that will leave you curled up in the fetal position wondering why you even bothered to try us.

Connor heaves a sigh that is drawn from deep within him.

Connor Murphy:  Trust me Travis, I am burning right now with barely controlled anger that I will have no problem releasing on your body when I am in the ring with you and Raab and Old Skool.  And speaking of that muscle bound never was, let’s just give you the following advice, stay safe and stay home.  Raab and I have this match well in hand and seriously, this match should only be between him and I.  The two of us are well match and it will be decided between us.

With that, Connor turns to walk away.  Anger still fuels him as he slams a hand against the door of a locker room and he disappears inside.

 Six month ago, doctor’s office in Ottawa Ontario Canada

“So tell me doc, can I be gettin’ back inta the ring,” says a smirking Connor Murphy as he flexes his thigh, one hand rubbing at the muscle with a soft sucking of breath as he skims over the bandage that covers it.

“There is no way I am letting you into a wrestling ring with that injury,” says the doctor as she looks at the chart on the computer screen.  She doesn’t see Connor slide silently off the examining table and come up behind her, leaning slowly to whisper in her ear.

“How can I prove to you that I can wrestle huh?” he asks is a put on sexy voice.

The doctor smiles as she types something into the computer.  â€œWell for starters, you can stop sexually harassing me and get back on the table,” she orders.  â€œSeriously Mr. Murphy…”

“It is Connor m’dear,” he interrupts.

“Mr. Murphy, what you are going to need to do is relax and rehab that leg.  The damage wasn’t that bad but it is good enough that I can bench you for a good six months.  I am working out a schedule for physio for you and giving you a prescription for pain medication should you need it.”

The sound of the printer breaks the silence as Connor moves towards the table and lightly leaps onto it once more.  The doctor gets to her feet and moves towards Connor with a few pieces of paper.  â€œHere  you go,” she adds.

Connor admits defeat as he shakes his head.  The doctor hands him one more piece of paper which he looks askance at.  The doctor smiles at the look.  â€œIt is my number and once you and I work further with your leg, the faster you will heal.”

Today, somewhere in Arabia…

Connor rubs at his leg as he looks into the camera.

“This week my return and I get to face a man that most would say is on one hell of a hot streak here in Sin City,” says Connor.  â€œAnd most may be wondering just how afeared I am to step in the ring with Goth.”

Chuckling Murphy nods as he holds up a video unit.

“You see I would have been afraid of being bored by Goth now I will have a man who’s mind just might not be on our match but rather how safe his wee wifie is,” taunts Connor.  â€œGoth, will you be able to concentrate on facing me or will the fact that your woman is the guest of Shipman.  Bet it just makes you want to give to me what you want to do to Shipman.  Well bring it on big man, bring your worse and I will show you just how prepared I am to get back into the game that I love.  This week I am going to prove that Connor Murphy doesn’t have ring rust because this week, your beating is going to feel quite good to me,” he says as he moves out of the camera’s view.

 Rock music blares out of the small black alarm clock sitting to the side of the rumpled bed in a rather nondescript hotel room.  Laid out on his stomach, a groan from Connor Murphy mingles with the faint sound of running water in the bathroom.  Slowly, his hand creeps across the expanse of white and slams down onto the snooze button, killing the music with a flyswatter motion.

Rolling to his back, Connor scratches his bare chest with a sleepy ‘where the hell am I?’ look.  Tossing his feet over the side of the bed, he sits up, the running water finally being recognized and making his lips curl in a smirk.

“Cleanliness is next ta godliness me Mum always said,” he mutters to the room in general as he wraps the sheet around his hips and begins to saunter towards the bathroom only to be stopped by a pounding on the door of his room.  As Connor debates answering the door, the knocking gets louder only to have a voice added.

“Connor open up, we gotta talk,” says the voice on the outside.

Recognizing the voice, Connor’s head drops in exasperation before he changes direction and reaches for the handle, “You better have brought breakfast!” he exclaims as he yanks open the door just as the running water is shut off in the bathroom.

Standing in the hallway with a tray of coffee and McDonald’s bag that is saturated with grease, Devlin Lefebvre gives his buddy a smirk.  â€œWould I forget you buddy,” he says as he moves past Connor.  â€œNice toga by the way,” he adds with a snort.  Setting the food and drinks on the table near the bed Devlin turns in time to spy a blonde woman in a towel step out of the misty bathroom.

“Oops, didn’t know your friend was here,” says the girl as she giggles then moves to the chair to grab a very low cut dress and a pair of teeny white lace panties then heads back into the bathroom with a wave at Devlin.

“Oh man, why didn’t you tell me,” says Devlin as the door to the bathroom opens once again only this time to reveal a brunette in a pair of panties and a silky bra.  Turning to Connor who is leaning back against the door smirking, Devlin holds up two fingers mouthing the word two in disbelief.

“Sisters,” offers Connor as the pair come out.  Giving each a cheeky smirk, Connor does the gentleman thing and opens the door for them.  The blonde kisses him on the cheek and sails past him while the brunette stops, planting a long slow kiss on Connor’s lips as her hand tucks something into the vee of the sheet at his waist.  With one last peck on Connor’s cheek, she too disappears down the hall as Devlin walks over and the two men lean out the door to watch them walk away.

Connor moves back into his room as Devlin lets his head tilt and a low whistle escape him.  Coughing slightly, he returns to the room and watches as Connor pulls the bag of breakfast towards himself and opens it with a grin.

“Luck of the irish last night bud?” demands Devlin.  â€œAnd no call for help to your friend.  That’s cold.”

“The pair of them was all hands Dev,” counters Connor around a bite of sausage mcmuffin (product placement – Send cheque to Connor Murphy c/o SCW).  They didn’t give me a chance to even pull out my phone.”

“Well, I am here to tell you that after last night, you are going to have to cut it down to one girl a night or better yet, no girl since you got a match at Climax Control and it is a doozy,” says Devlin as he cracks one of the coffees and takes a cautious sip.  â€œYou are facing a former champion.”

“What former champion?” asks Connor after forcing down a bite of food that he had choked on before continuing, “Gabriel?  Mark Ward...wait, don’t tell me...that bear everyone keeps warning everyone else about?”

“That bear you are talking about hasn’t been a champion and besides, the only things it is good for are contract writing, pissing off Christian and getting Despy into trouble...kinda how you are for me,” teases Devlin as he sits back in his seat, his arms spread wide.

“Ha ha funny man,” returns Connor as he balls up the wrapper and tosses it at Devlin.  â€œSo who am I facing then?”

“Gene Banton Junior,” answers Devlin.

“Who?”

“I realize it has been a while since you have been in the ring and all but seriously Connor, Gene Banton was the champion up to the last supercard I think,” says Devlin, his hand running through his mussed hair trying to tame it into some kind of style.

Connor rolls his eyes as he leans back against a pile of pillows on the bed, his feet crossed at the ankles and his hands behind his head.  â€œSo I can see it now, he is going to bitch about how he has to face a curtain jerker or something right?  I have seen that before and trust me, I could care less if he calls me a curtain jerker, pantywaist or jobber,” says Connor with a slight touch of disgust in his voice.  â€œJust means that he is just like every other former champion living on past glory thinking he is better than everyone else.”

Devlin shoots his friend a thoughtful look.  â€œDo you really think he would be like that?” he ponders.

“Hell yes,” Connor replies scornfully.  â€œEveryone thinks that because they won the gold in this federation they are untouchable which makes it much more satisfying when I do get to touch them and drop them on their heads.  Admit it Devlin, everyone does it and I would too if I had won gold before.”

“True,” muses Devlin only to let out a ‘mmph’ of pain as he reacts to a pillow launched at him.  â€œHey Connor, that wasn’t called for...I was just agreeing with you.”

“So what do we do now?  I mean I have to get ready for Gene but how much do I train because I ain’t really seen him in action lately and he’s probably tucked tail and gone into hiding,” offers Connor.

“Dude, you are going to have to train harder than that.  Gene is an arrogant SOB and trust me, he isn’t going to sit back and take it from someone like you,” retorts Devlin.  â€œI’d ask Vix to help ya but since she and Spike got married, she’s been busy with honeymooning.  So you are stuck with me or we could call Spike and see if he has anyone else that can help us.”

“Nah, you can help me,” answers Connor.  â€œLemme just shower then we can head down to the gym for a workout.”  Getting to his feet, Connor lets the sheet drop as he makes his way towards the bathroom.  Devlin turns quickly to hide his eyes as Connor shuts the door and the sound of a shower is heard as the scene fades to black.



The loud clang of a bar slamming on the supports of a bench press is drowned out by the not so empty gym’s regular crowd of hangers and bangers.  Connor Murphy, sweat pouring down his face, pulls himself to a sitting position with a grunt.  Behind him, Devlin moves to the side of the bench and reaches for another set of rings for the bar.

“How the hell is benching going to help me in the ring against Banton?” asks Connor as he watches Devlin load the bar.  Once the weights have been added, Connor then lays back on the bench, wiggling his fingers as he gets a good grip on the bar.

“First we build up your strength then we work on your endurance,” Devlin replies with a cocky grin.  â€œAlthough...two sisters...I would say you have some kind of endurance there.”

Connor sends his own smirk upwards as he pulls the bar off the rack and lets it settle on his chest as Devlin gets into spotting position.  Connor starts to press the bar up and down, faint grunts accompanying each thrust upward.  Suddenly Devlin leans forward, his hands catching at the bar and forcing his weight over it.  Connor’s smirk is turned to a look of surprise as Devlin leans over, the cocky grin now a feral smile.

“What the hell Dev?” demands Connor as he tries to fight the bar off his chest.

“I am only doing what I suspect that Gene Banton would do.  He is someone that will do anything for a win even cheat.  And I know that you know that I know what I am talking about.”

Grunting as he continues to fight the bar off his chest, Connor finally brings up his left leg and catches Devlin on his shoulder, kicking him to the side.  Once Devlin stumbles away with his hand against his shoulder, Connor benches the weight and gets to his feet, charging towards Devlin and slams a hand into the chest of his friend.

“I know you are a pr*ck,” mutters Connor as he catches the shirtfront of Devlin.  â€œAnd if you weren’t my best friend I would have your balls in a sling in five minutes.  Tell me what the hell do you think you are doing trying to train me to fail?”

Devlin swallows or tries to past the balled up fist in his throat.  Looking around, he notices that they have drawn a crowd.  â€œI was training you to be prepared for anything you ass,” Devlin growls before pushing Connor off of him.

“It’s a wrestling match boyo, not a bench pressing challenge that I will be facing Banton in,” replies Connor as he stalks towards Devlin again.  â€œIf for a minute I thought that he would be facing me fairly, I wouldn’t be preparing for anything.  But I don’t need you adding to it,” says Connor.  â€œYou want to help me, get in to the ring with me!”

Devlin holds up his hands and puts on a sheepish grin.  â€œYou know I ain’t a wrestler Connor,” he offers.

“But I am,” says a feminine voice from behind Connor.  Devlin smirks as Connor whips around to spy Vixen standing there, a bag over her shoulder and pushing her sunglasses upwards.

“I thought you were on your honeymoon missy,” says Connor as he glares at Devlin.

“I was but Dev here told me that you needed help so here I am,” replies Vixen who lets her bag slip from her shoulder. “That and the fact that I need to get in some ring time before I have to face Delia.  So what is it going to be Connor?”

“You called your sister on me?” says a disbelieving Connor as he glares at Devlin who moves to stand with Vixen who has put one hand on her waist.  â€œFine but we can’t tell ANYONE about this seeing as I want to keep my job at Sin City.  And from what I hear, if a superstar puts his hands on a bombshell...”

“Awww poor Connor, doesn’t want to train with a champion,” teases Devlin from behind his sister.

Looking down at Vixen, Connor smirks while raising one eyebrow.  â€œI am going to kill him one of these days,” he says to Vixen who nods sagely.

“Not if I kill him first!” she says.

The pair walks away from Devlin who shouts ‘hey!’ at their retreating backs.  They make their way to a ring that is set up to the side of the gym.  Holding the middle and top ropes apart for Vixen, Connor slides in behind her and begins to bounce lightly on the balls of his feet.   She makes her way across the ring, reaching to pull the light NXT tee from her frame to reveal a dark NXT halter.

Devlin reaches the ring apron only to hear wolf whistles from the crowd of men.  â€œShe’s married for sobbing out loud,” he comments angrily.  â€œOk Connor, time to face someone that will give you a challenge just like Banton will.”

Inside the ring, Connor and Vixen circle then lock up in a collar and elbow tie up that Vixen turns into a headlock.  Connor tries to fight out of it and push her into the ropes but Vixen dances around him, catching his arm and sliding through to lock on a hammerlock.

“That isn’t going to win the match Con,” calls out Devlin just before Connor reverses the hammerlock.  â€œNice one!”

“Gotcha now Vixie,” teases Connor only to feel Vixen’s hand wrap around his ankle and yank him off his feet forcing him to let go of the hold.  Before she can capitalize, Connor rolls to the side and to one knee.

“That is exactly what you need to do Connor,” says Vixen.  â€œYou have to be ready for anything and everything.  I know I am not able to face men in the ring but I find that watching them is almost as good.”

“Does Spike know you do that?” asks Connor as he shakes out his arm as they begin to circle once more.

“How do you think I managed to get Spike’s attention,” teases Vixen as she sweeps her leg towards the shins of Connor who jumps over the strike then grasps Vixen as she makes her way vertical and whips her into the ropes catching her with a clothesline that sends her to the mat.

Connor quickly catches her and pulls her into a bearhug.  Before he can press his advantage, he spies Pussy Willow looking around the gym and whispers furiously at Vixen, “Hug me!”  Vixen’s arms wrap around him as Pussy steps up beside Devlin.

“Oh my god, I never thought I would see you and Vixen in the ring...Wait, are you touching a bombshell and did Christian Underwood give you permission to?” asks Pussy Willow.

“I was just giving Vixen here a congratulatory hug,” answers Connor with a wink and a smile.  â€œI missed the wedding and well, she is almost like a sister to me.”

“That’s right, she got married didn’t she?  But I am wondering since you are here and I always want to do an interview for someone wrestling at Climax Control, would you let me interview you Connor?” asks Pussy Willow completely changing the subject.

“Why Ms Willow, I would be delighted to give you my full attention,” says Connor as he leers down at the interviewer, his eyes drawn to her tight shirt.  â€œWhy don’t you and I get out of here and let me buy you a drink.  You are old enough ta drink aren’t ya?”

Pussy can’t help but nod affirmatively and clap with enthusiasm as she motions for Connor to join her.  Slipping through the ropes, Connor offers her his elbow as the pair of them walk away from Vixen and Devlin.

“Ten bucks says he will be taking her back to his hotel room,” offers Devlin as Vixen sits beside him and shakes her head.



Connor flexes his fingers and rolls his neck.  Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepares himself and then reaches out.

“Connor that is like your fifth rep,” says Pussy Willow in surprise.  â€œBut I don’t think that this is any kind of exercise.”

Connor grabs the shooter of Jack and tosses it back.  â€œOf course it is exercise darlin’,” he says with a slight slur.  â€œThis is the Irish workout, builds endurance and tolerance.”

Ms Willow gives him a doubtful look.  Sighing, she leans back in the seat she is sitting on, her purse on her lap and a chilled white wine at her elbow.  â€œSo Connor, can we get that interview in now?  I mean it is getting late and all.”

“For sure love, ask me anything,” he says with a wave of his hand.

Pussy Willow pulls out her hand held camera that she is never without and points it at Connor who smirks and waves at it then at one of the waitresses at the bar, pointing down to the empty shooter glass then holding up two fingers.  â€œSo Connor Murphy,” she begins.  â€œTell us what you have planned for your match against Gene Banton Junior since he is a former champion and you haven’t yet won gold here in SCW.”

“That’s cold love, true but cold,” replies Connor.  Settling himself into his own seat he steeples his fingers, thinking about his response.  â€œWell I guess what I have planned is to kick the everloving crap outta Banton before he can do it to me.  Nice and simple don’t ya think?”

“Simple yes but effective...That is going to be the question after all, Gene does have a very strong arsenal of moves,” says Ms Willow before being rudely interrupted by a smirking Connor.

“So what you are saying is that Banton’s gonna be pulling moves out of his arse then, good to know,” says Connor.

“I am soooo not saying that,” protests Pussy.  â€œI am just saying that Gene Banton has a lot of moves you know.  Besides, I don’t think you are taking this very seriously.”

Connor leans forward, his smirk replaced by a stern look.  â€œIs this how I am supposed to look about this match?  Do you want me to be something I am not?  Listen, if you wanted a serious point by point presentation of the arse kicking I am going to be dishing out to Banton, you came to the wrong person love,” says Connor before his smirk returns as does the waitress with two more shooter glasses filled with amber liquid.  Smiling his thanks to the young lady, he takes first one then the other and with a shiver and a shake of his head, he turns his attention back to the interview.  â€œNow where were we?”

Pussy points the camera at Connor as she poutingly replies with a snide comment about wanting a serious interview.

“Serious, come on love.  When have I ever been serious?  It just isn’t worth it because you will never get out of this life alive,” states Connor as he waits for the quotation to register.  When he doesn’t get the laugh he was going for, he continues.  â€œAnd seriously when it comes to this match, do you think that I am going to let someone like Gene Banton Junior walk all over me in the ring, then you my dear have another thing coming.  The only thing that Junior needs to know is that I am coming and I am bringing everything to the fight.  With me being Irish that is quite a lot considering that my people fight at the drop of a hat.”

“So you think this is going to be a fight?” asks Ms Willow.

“Of course love, haven’t I been saying just that?” replies Connor before looking at his watch.  â€œBut I am getting hungry so why don’t we go up to my room and order room service and finish this interview?”

“I am not going to your room,” says Pussy with a smile.

“Don’t you want to finish this interview?” ponders a bewildered Connor.

“It is finished since you keep saying the same thing over and over again.  And how am I supposed to take you seriously if you won’t take this match seriously.  So seriously, I am out of here,” states Pussy as she slides the camera back into her purse, drains the last of her wine and gets to her feet.  â€œThanks for the drink,” she adds before walking to the door of the bar.

Connor sits stunned for a moment realizing that his luck had run out.  Slumping back in his chair to ponder that for a moment his eyes catch those of the waitress as she smiles at him causing a slow smirk to cross his face.  Maybe his luck hadn’t run out after all...

 “Connor Murphy’s joining NXT and that is that!”

The voice of the leader of the New Xtremes is confident as he leans forward and places his elbows on the beat up desk at the Staggs gym.  On it is a wadded up NXT shirt and a pile of crumpled bills.  Perched on the edge, Vixen turns quickly at Spike’s comment.

“Are you completely sure,” asks Vixen as she gives Spike a look as if he had two heads.  “This is Connor you are talking about.”

Getting to his feet, Spike smirks as he puts an arm over the shoulder of his fiancée and nods.  “It’s time I figure.  And he knows you so I think he might be a good addition to the team so to speak.”  Spike leads Vixen towards the gym where the sound of people training can be heard.   As they round the corner into the room, the sound of a body hitting canvas can be heard as Connor is dropped with a quick trip from Devlin Lefebvre.

Hanging her head, the sound of the chuckle she tries to hide draws the attention of Connor and Devlin.  Connor looks over the ropes, leaning against them.  “Is that for me Vixie?” he asks, the lilt of his irish accent thickening slightly.  “Because you know I may have to kick that arse of yours if I think you are doubtin’ me or my ability.  Wouldn’t that be a sight eh Dev.  Me pinnin’ yer sister just like old times.”

Raising one eyebrow, Spike gives Vixen a look.  “Something you want to share babe?” he asks as he tosses the shirt over his shoulder then crosses his arms over his chest.  Vixen glares at Connor to avoid saying anything.

“It’s all right Spike, she’s all yours,” Connor comments with a grin.  “We was only kids when I pinned her you know, grade school hijinks and the like.  She didn’t even have…”  Connor motions with his hands at his chest as Devlin doubles over as his laughter gets the best of him and Vixen brings her hand up with a face palm to her now scarlet face.

“I think I get the picture thanks,” says Spike as he manfully tries to stifle his own laughter.  The door of the gym opens to reveal Misty and Eden who walk towards the group.  

Eden rushes up to Vixen and wrapping her arms around her, hugs her tightly before turning to the others then back to Vixen.  “Mommie Vixen, why is your face all red?” asks the little girl.  “Were you and Daddy caught kissing AGAIN?”

Vixen shakes her head.  “No, Daddy and I were not caught kissing petite,” answers the Bombshell champion.  “It was something much worse.  And now Mommie Vixen is going to have to teach Connor there a lesson,” Vixen says while setting Eden on her feet.  Vixen rolls into the ring and gets to a vertical base, a mocking grin on her face.  “Unless of course, you don’t want to get beaten by a girl twice in a week Connor.”

“She wasn’t a she!” exclaims Connor as he holds up his hands.  “She had a big d…Johnson!”

“Nice save,” calls out Devlin as he moves to the other side of the ring.  Misty leans against the apron of the ring, a chuckle escaping her as Eden holds her arms out for her father to lift her onto the apron too.  Spike picks her up and sets her beside her mother before sliding into the ring and getting to his feet.  

Vixen is advancing on Connor with all her bad intentions showing when Spike stops her and holds out his hand.  “Gimme a minute my love, I want to talk to Connor here about something,” he states before turning to Connor.  “Listen, I have seen some of the stuff you have been doing in the ring and I think that maybe you need a bit more polish and you will get that with working with us.”

“Who is us,” asks Connor suspiciously.  

“The New Xtremes,” says Spike as he reaches for the shirt on his shoulder.  “Vixen’s said that you would be a good edition to the group.”

“That isn’t what I said Spike,” interrupts Vixen.  “I asked if you were sure.”

Connor watches the byplay between the two and leans against the ropes.  “Let me get this straight…you want me to join your little group?”  At Spike’s nod, Connor rubs his hand across his lips then moistens them with his tongue as he looks at Devlin and begins to pace along the ropes.  Finally stopping where Misty is sitting, he looks at Spike and brings his hands down to caress Misty’s shoulders.  “So if I join you when will I get my secret decoder ring and a date with this pretty lady here?” he asks with a smile on his face.

“I am not some initiation gift,” mutters Misty as she brushes off Connor’s massaging.  “I barely know you.”

“Name’s Connor lass and I like hockey, whiskey and a very pretty lady like you on my arm for a night,” he offers with a wink.  “And it’s only a date, I ain’t asking you to sleep with me on the first date.  I usually save myself…at least until the third date.  That is unless of course you can’t keep your panties on and your hands off me.”

Vixen’s mouth drops at that comment as does Misty’s.  The two women share a look before Vixen reaches for Connor to pull him away from Misty.  “You shouldn’t talk like that to Misty, like she said, she doesn’t know you and the way you talk, she won’t want to get to know you,” states Vixen in a growl.  Misty smiles slightly as she gives a once over of Connor.

“Like what you see?” he asks with no hint of humbleness at all.  “All yours for a date when and where you say you want to go,” he offers, his Irish lilt dropping low and teasingly as he moves back to where Misty is.  “You name it, I’m yours.”  Misty nods as she brushes a hand back against her hair, pushing it behind her ear.  “I’ll think about it,” she offers.    
“Connor, Spike asked you something and you still haven’t given him an answer.  So what are you going to do?” asks Vixen.  Spike stands there, his arms still crossed over his chest.  “Are you going to join or what?”

“The New Xtremes…don’t be daffy, of course I am going to join,” scoffs Connor as he holds out his hand for the shirt that Spike drops into his hands.  Holding it up, Connor looks it over then drops it enough to look Spike in the face.  “Thanks man, now let’s get some training in Vixie, I have a match in Egypt to get ready for.  And I figure with who I am facing, beating you would be more of a test to see if I am ready or not.”

“Who are you facing?” ponders Vixen as she rolls her neck.

“Depayre and Big B,” answers Spike which gets Connor’s attention.    “So you have to be ready.”

Connor nods but slowly lets a smile cross his face.  “I’ll be ready but I think I need a plan b too.”

Devlin whoops with glee when he sees the smile on Connor’s face and Vixen shares a look with Spike.  “This isn’t going to be good,” she moans as Connor gets ready to train.



Devlin opens the door of the hotel room and heads down the hall, a magazine in his hand with Despayre and Angel on the front.  Reading  the magazine, Devlin looks up and spies something on the floor and looking behind him then in front again, he leans over and picks up a purple sphere off a piece of paper.  Bringing it to his nose, he sniffs suspiciously at the bean then smiles and pops it into his mouth.  As he does, he spies another piece of paper and another Skittle.

“Score!” he exclaims as his eyes take in the line of Skittles that trace their way down the hall.  Eating his way along, he is surprised when the stop at the elevator.  Pushing the button for it, Devlin begins to whistle the teddybear’s picnic and returns to his article.  

The elevator doors open and he steps inside only to be joined by a young Egyptian in a bell hop’s outfit.  The young boy jabbers at Devlin in Arabic and motions for the buttons.  “I need second floor,” Devlin says “need food.”  

The boy nods quickly and presses two.  Devlin returns to whistling the Teddybear’s picnic song.  The elevator stops and Devlin escapes the car with a surprised look at the bell hop who is worshipful of what looks like a teddy bear in the arms of Despayre as the group known as the Sins move along the corridor.  Devlin stops and watches for a moment then smiles as the group moves through the doors.  “And people say that the bear is dangerous with Skittles around,” he mutters to himself as he begins to eat his way along the hall, picking up each skittle and popping it into his mouth.  He continues along the way until he spies a bowl filled with the sugary goodness that is Skittles.  Stopping in front of it, he pulls the bowl towards him only to have ropes fall on him, tangling around his arm and sending him to the floor.

“Jaysus,” he exclaims as he begins to fight his way out of the ropes only to have a flying body land on him driving the wind from his lungs.

“I got ya!” a voice screams.  “You aren’t going to help your little buddy this time Bear.”

“Connor, is that you?” growls a winded Devlin.

“Dev…what are you doing in my bear trap?” Connor demands angrily when he realizes who the victim is.

“A bear trap..with f*ckin’ rope?” is the only response from a now angry Devlin who glares at his friend who has the grace to look sheepish.  “And what kind of bear are you looking to trap?”

“Despayre and Big B have that bear that Despayre constantly carries around with him.  I figured that if I trapped it I would have the advantage in this match.  I would tell Despayre in the match that I had his bear and if he wanted it back, well, you know…” Connor replies as he brushes his hand through his roughed up hair.

“You were going to hold a teddy bear hostage?”  sputters Devlin who reaches out to feel Connor’s head.  “Do you think that you maybe need to talk to someone about this?” wonders Devlin.  “You do know that the bear is just a teddy bear right?”

“I do but better safe than sorry you know,” answers Connor.  “That guy takes this bear seriously so I think we need to take him out of the equation.  I heard that the Bear is responsible for some of the fancy training that Despayre does.  I even heard that the bear manages him.  If that is the case, it is better that I get the bear out of my hair.”

Devlin looks at his friend like he has lost his senses.  “You realize it is a F*CKING BEAR!”

Connor looks at Devlin with a glare.  “I know that!”

“Then smarten up and let’s get breakfast then head for a gym.  I want you to be ready for your match.  And if that means training day and night we will.  And don’t you worry about the bear.  I got your back,” says Devlin with a smile.  “He won’t be able to do anything to help em with me at ringside.”

Connor smiles with his friend as the pair head to the restaurant.


 

The time has come for some straight talk.  Connor stands in front of a backdrop showing the SCW logo and begins to speak.

“At Climax Control, Jon Dough and myself get a chance to team for the very first time.  I have to admit, he wouldn’t be my first choice of a partner but that is going to change.  The two of us have joined up with the New Xtremes and that means that we are going to be focused on one thing and one thing only,” says Connor as he rubs his hands together.  “We are coming for the tag titles and since that would be my first titles in SCW, I have to say that..”

Devlin who is filming his buddy stops for a moment and pulls the camera away from his face.  “I don’t think this is a title match there Connor.  Bosom buddies aren’t tag champions.  This is just a regular tag match.”

“Bosom…is that what they call themselves?  Does that mean then that they consider themselves a pair of tits?” says Connor as he doubles over with laughter.

“Shut it Connor,” says Devlin as he start to film again.  “These are your opponents on Climax Control.”

Sighing loudly, Connor makes his way along the corridor where suspects to find his partner.  “Trust me when I tell you that I know that we are in for a fight that night but when push comes to shove, it is going to be us warriors taking the fight to the big guy and his teddy wielding Despayre.”

“Just don’t take them lightly,” says Devlin who begins to film again only to see Connor’s face screwed up with a look of disgust.  “WHA?” demands Devlin as he continues to film.

“Nothing that Climax Control and a win in the ring won’t cure,” offers Connor who turns and walks away.

“Hey,” shouts Devlin as he wriggles the camera.  “Aren’t we doing this interview?”

“Nah, I am ready as I will ever be.  Better prepared is going to mean  I am overthinking this so no we will not be doing the interview.”

With that, Connor leaves the room and slams the door shut behind him.

 The haze of smoke hangs over the spotlighted table.  On one side is Devlin Lefebvre a bottle in his hand and the slosh of the dregs barely heard over his jaunty humming of a tuneless song.  Across from him with a cigarette between two fingers, Connor Murphy offers his friend a glare.  Between them is a pile of multicoloured bills to which Connor adds a blue one to.

“I raise ya five bucks,” he says challengingly as he lays down the pair of cards in front of him, still face down.  

Devlin lets his bottle rest against his lips as he chuckles at the small bet.  “A whole five dollars,” he jokes.  “Go big or go home huh?”  Taking his cards into his hand, he glances at them then at Connor who leans back, a smirk on his face as he drags on the cigarette before grabbing his own bottle and sloshing himself a swig.

“You know it bro,” he replies as he thumps the bottle on the table.

Devlin nods as he places his cards on the table.  “I call,” he boasts as he puts a matching dollar bill on the pile.  Dealing the cards, he throws three down face up.  A queen, ten and jack of hearts appears on the flop.  

With a hoot of gleeful surprise, Connor pushes his money, all fifteen dollars of it towards the pile.  Devlin matches it and the last two cards, the turn and the river land face up between them.  

With a flourish, Devlin puts the deck to the side then flips his cards over to reveal the nine and eight of hearts.  “Straight f’ng straight ya ass,” he taunts as he reaches for the money only to be stopped by Connor.

“I am so sorry me boyo but the money’s mine…” he begins as he flips one card over to reveal the king of hearts.

“Aww hell no,” begins Devlin who reaches across the table to pull the last card up and look at it.  “F*ckin’ hell,” he shouts as the phone rings.  Connor watches him as he gets off the chair to answer the phone as he pulls the money towards him then pockets the ace and king of hearts he had planted for the game.  

Mumbling on the phone, Devlin looks at his friend and raises an eyebrow.  Hanging up, he moves back to the table where Connor is gathering up the money.  “That was Vixen and she was telling me that you have to check out something that was posted about your opponent.  So let’s find the laptop and check it out.”

The pair get to their feet and head towards the other room where they find the laptop open and the half full bottle of beer showing the battery charge bubbling away on the screen.  “So what are we looking for,” says Connor who grabs the chair in front of the computer and straddles it.  Devlin reaches for the keyboard and types in a string of letters.  Suddenly, a video player starts. (Watch what they are watching:  http://www.scwrestling.net/boards/index.ph...indpost&p=23980 ).  

Moments later, Connor looks at Devlin.  “What the f*ck was that?” he demands in a voice that can only be considered contemptuous.  “That is nothing but Scary Movie 69.  It sucks and blows at the same time!”

Devlin scratches his head, tilting it as if giving Rayne the benefit of the doubt.  “Well now, it is pretty dark and spooky like,” he says slowly.  “I think that you might want to not take this guy too…”

“Too what…seriously?” asks Connor as he shakes his head.  “Only thing this guy has going for him is the creep out factor for the video and that is about it.  He’s talking about torture like he could actually make me afraid.”  The scoff that escapes Connor only makes Devlin smile.  Connor gets to his feet and just waves off the video and begins to walk out of the room.  

Devlin follows him after pausing for only a moment to pick up his cell phone.  “Did you want to say anything back to him?” asks Devlin.

Connor stops and then turns back.  “You better believe it,” he says as Devlin begins to film.  “This guy needs a good swift kick right to the nuts, might smarten him up a bit.”

“Filming dude,” replies Devlin.

“Listen you hopped up Scary Movie wannabe.  You talk about torture like you think you are some scary assed god.  I know that no matter what you say or what you do, you aren’t even thinking about me at all.  You are talking about this Mikey dude and trust me, I ain’t him.  I’m some one that much more devious.  That much more ready to kick your dead ass and send you back to the funny farm you escaped from,” says Connor as he pulls a cigarette out of the crushed pack from his pocket.  Pausing to light it, he pulls it from his mouth, pointing at Devlin with it between his fingers.  “At My Bloody Valentine you freak, I am going to put you on your back and kick the undead crap out of you.”

Devlin smirks as he checks the video being filmed.  “Tell him the truth Connor,” he taunts his friend.

“Truth is that come the super card, I am going to beat Trent Rayne and there is abso f*ckin lutely nothing he can do about it.”

With that comment, Connor turns again and heads towards the door.  Devlin smirks and then turning the phone towards him, he taps in some words as the scene fades out on him chuckling as he sends the video on the cell.