It was a cool fifty eight degrees in the "City of Sin," Las Vegas, Nevada. The evening was drawing nearer and the sky above the city lights was gray with overcast, and a light rain cascaded from the clouds above. Dreary weather for many, as most who visit this city within a desert expect bright sunshine for their vacations while they walk about the famed Vegas Strip. There are, however, others who much prefer this weather; what with the cool winds and rain and gray clouds as far as the eye could see, as opposed to blue skies and the bright sunshine that was the norm.
Plus it makes for great mood lighting for what was about to occur! What's that you ask? Patience! These types of promos don't tell themselves!
At 450 Fremont Street was the Neonopolis Underground Parking garage in the heart of downtown Vegas. The building itself was both eccentric as well as unique, like something lightning up a scene in Times Square or the streets of Hollywood. The Neonopolis, was in essence, a building that was home to fine dining and retail stores for all ages, catering to both citizens of Vegas as well as well as those who count this city as a stop for their tourist destination. Yet it was not food or shopping that was the reason why we find ourselves here at this flashy destination.
In fact it was below that very building, where the cars of tourists visiting were stationed, that would draw us in. It was the newly arriving Honda Odyssey, deep blue in color, that was the source of our curiosity. The headlights were on, better safe than sorry in this dismal weather and the windshield wipers continued to sway one way, and then the next, wiping off the last bit of rain as the vehicle pulled into the shelter of the garage. It drew around the rows of cars, weaving in and out as if it were searching for something, until a reserved lot came into view, conspicuous by the large cardboard propped up against a concrete pillar and a childlike sketch of a teddy bear in the center. The Odyssey pulled into the space and once the engine cut off, the driver's side door opened and out stepped --
Simpson?
Yes indeed, it is the bodyguard and 'manservant' to the reigning World Heavyweight Champion, J2H, the gargantuan Simpson. No first name. He's like Madonna that way. And contrary to J2H whose demeanor was rude and crass, Simpson was for the most part, the total and complete opposite of his employer. Cheese and crackers! His appearance alone befuddled people when they discovered just how nice of a man he really and truly was!
So why was he here? Well even he was unsure as he removed his shades -- wait, shades? Yes, you heard right. Well, 'read' right. Wearing dark shades to shield his eyes seemed unusual, especially at this hour and in this weather, but it was part of his instructions. Instructions passed to him by Melody and insisted be followed by J2H himself. Not that J2H cared, mind you. His life was just a whole lot easier when Melody was happy.
Suddenly a pair of headlights turned on, aimed at Simpson and illuminating the garage. The big man squinted as he shielded his eyes with his great paw of a hand, and saw the diminutive figure approach him, clad in a tan trench coat that went from the neck and clear down to his feet. A large fedora hat was set upon his head, casting his facial features in shadow to the average passer-by. While one might expect a cigarette in this game of 'Cloak and Dagger,' instead a small pipe was pressed between lips and a stream of bubbles blew up into the air and past Simpson who reached up absently with a finger and popped one. Not to say that Simpson wasn't aware who was behind this. If it was in Las Vegas and at Miss Grace's behest, it could only be one person.
"Mister Despayre..." Simpson started to address him when the small, pale hand in a sleeve that engulfed his limb, shot out and clasped his wrist while the other held a forefinger up to shadowed lips and...
"Shhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Simpson blinked back his surprise, and Despayre looked left and right from under his hat, checking to ensure that there were no witnesses for what was about to occur.
"Thank you for coming." Despayre said. "But this is top secret business we're here to conduct! We can't afford to let anyone see us for who we might really be! So here..." He proceeded to shove another tan trench coat into Simpson's arms and a second fedora. "Put those on. Hurry!"
Simpson knew of Despayre's reputation for unusual requests and antics, what with him being "Master James'" buddy. Well, according to Despayre they were. According to James, Despayre was -- well we can't use that sort of language in a Despayre promo. So that being said, Simpson resigned himself to doing as asked, and slipped on the trench coat that proved to be a size or two too small, but the hat was just right. Despayre made a hand signal and Simpson then slipped the shades he had just removed back over his eyes.
"Much better!" Despayre declared. "Until this exchange is complete, I also thought it best if we both go by pseudo ... pseudo.... you know. Pretend names."
Simpson nodded, playing along. What the hey?
Despayre continued, "So for the duration of this event, I'll be Arlington Fartweather, and your name will be Meat."
Simpson blinked from behind his shades. 'Meat?' He gave that some thought and a smile crept on his lips.
"I ... kind of like that." He found himself admitting.
"So did Mark."
"Who?"
"Never mind." Despayre said as he took a step closer and leaned in to whisper, "Did Miss M tell you why you were here?"
Simpson shrugged, "Just that I was to pick something up and deliver it to her post-haste. Nothing else."
"Ahh!" Despayre sighed happily. "Miss M is very wise in these mysterious endeavors! The less known, the better! But since you're the Transporter, I feel it fair to give you a detail or two."
Despayre then reached inside of his trench coat and removed a bundle -- that being a tanned teddy bear wrapped in medical gauze and bandages. Simpson watched this curiously until it suddenly hit him.
"A teddy bear?" He asked, a note of disbelief in his voice. "That's why I'm here?"
"I know." Despayre nodded with a solemn tone. "It's a big risk given what happened, but Miss M assured me that you were up for the task. This little guy was betrayed by Uncle Pinky and brutalized. You can see he's still in recovery, but now I got temporary custody until he can be rehabilitated. He's been declared to be under the protection of the Teddy Bear Mafia..."
"Teddy Bear Mafia?"
"Trust me!" Despayre said seriously. "You do not want to get on their bad side. They know what to do with the bodies."
He leaned in again, and Simpson couldn't help but humor the young man and play along, looking left and right before he too leaned in.
Despayre added, "They keep defeated shadow beasties in cages for such grim tasks you know."
Simpson pursed his lips and nodded, "You don't say."
"I didn't!" Despayre looked around. "And there's nobody here to prove that I did. Here..." He held the teddy bear out to Simpson and it was just in the man's nature to reach out and accept the plush form and hold it in his big hands.
Despayre continued, "Take him and get him to Miss M straight away. He'll be safe with her and you and Big J. This fella is under full Witness protection until he recovers and things are finished with Uncle Pinky."
"Gotcha."
"And remember! Don't stop until you've reached Miss M! Time is of the offense!"
Simpson reassured him, "You can count on me Mister Desp - er, Mister ... Fartweather?"
"I know I can! Your country salutes you!" He brought up a hand to salute Simpson proper and his hat got knocked off and his face was fastly illuminated by the car light. "Aw fudge!"
"I saw nothing." Simpson said as he opened his vehicle's passenger door and secured the injured teddy bear into the car seat, another provision of Melody's that was now explained. And with no small degree of relief on Simpson's behalf! Simpson then went around the Odyssey and was about to climb in when he noticed that not only was Despayre taking multiple steps back towards the vehicle, but he was almost insistent that there was a row of teddy bears in the distance watching the proceedings closely.
Taking a deep breath, Simpson climbed into his vehicle and made ready to pull out as the shadowy figure of Despayre watched on....
"I think he'll be alright, don't you?"
"I'm sure of it. Melody said he'd be able to stay with James and herself and we both know James has the resources to protect someone. Not that I expect anyone to come looking for Bob now that he's under the Mafia's protection."
"Bob?"
"Well my colleague hasta have a name, doesn't he?"
"True! And now that this is settled, it frees me up to focus on some other issues."
"Like trying to explain why when Gabriel's head moves, his hair doesn't?"
"No ... well we'll save that one for later. I was talking about Shipman."
"Oh. Him. I admit surprise to hear you call him by his actual name instead of calling him Stepmom like usual."
"Nope. I'll never call him that again. I called him that because that's what he was to our family. We both know how dad felt about him, but I should have known better. Stepmoms are inherently wicked, like AA meetings and generic cookie dough. Shipman hurt dad, whether dad wants to admit it or not."
"It wasn't hard to tell. Your dad is able to keep a lot of things hidden and bottled up, but when he came backstage after Shipman attacked him, you could see he was hurting. And I don't mean physically."
"And that is exactly why I need your help to train me to be at my very best. It hurt lots to see what dad went through. He was surprised when Rage left us..."
"I think we all were."
"Uh huh! But Shipman hurt. It's been a very long time I think since dad felt that way about anyone, and even longer since he let himself get hurt by someone like that. I think Shipman is just lucky that he did hurt dad instead of making him mad. if he had made him mad..."
"It would have been bye-bye Shipman!"
"Exactly! So now it's up to me, and I know you and dad aren't going to be allowed at ringside with me..."
"Yeah, Christian really did us wrong when he took away your cheering section. Though I must say, you adapted to that situation awfully well. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you! But I can't take credit for that. Well, I can but it wouldn't be right. I'd explain but we're still doing this whole mysterious promo thing."
"We are? oh! We are! ... Well if you say so."
"So I'll be okay. I just need to get ready. You know Shipman is a little weird. He says he's sick and twisted well -- get in line I say! He pretty much just described half the roster in SCW!"
"Only I don't think anyone else in SCW is as psycho as Shipman is."
"No problemo! We can handle him! I don't get my dander up easily but when someone mistreats my dad? After all he did for me? No. Just, no. I'm going to make Shipman regret the day he ever met the Sins, and regret the day he ever turned his back on us."
"You're really going to teach him a lesson, aren't you?"
"One of many, I assure you. The most basic lesson? The one we all learn from a very early age in all those fairy tale stories our parents read to us as little children; Stepmoms never win."
"Hear that Shipman? I know that you're out there somewhere, watching and listening. Buddy, you have got absolutely no idea what mess you stepped into when you betrayed the Sins and turned your back on Synn. Despayre is the one member of the group that is always seen the same way. Opponents often saw him as the so-called weak link of the team, whether it was teaming with Gabriel or Rage -- or even Big B. They all looked across the ring and thought if they isolated Despayre, they could take advantage of his mind and smaller form and have an easy night."
"But oh how wrong they all were! You would think that after all these years, his opponents would have learned better by now. You would think that you, after all the years you paraded around as one of us, that you wouldn't have been dumb enough to do anything that might set Despayre off, yet you did. More so, you did the one thing that sealed your fate; you hurt Synn. Attacking him physically was one thing, but you did more than that, didn't you? And those pains inflicted will come back to haunt you a hundred times over. You alone put that final nail in your coffin."
"And why? Pure jealousy, that's why. From the moment you joined the Sins way back in AWA, right up until you returned to Sin City Wrestling, you saw what the others in the Sins claimed for their own, and you wanted it for yourself. You saw Gabriel win two World Heavyweight titles, and your waist remained with no gold around it. You saw Rage win the very same title, and asked yourself, 'Where's mine?' Even Despayre emerged from his tag team dynasty and is now a two-time Internet Champion, and you are so green with envy that one would think you were about to 'Hulk Out' at any given time!"
"You even asked Synn where your opportunities were. When did you ever get title matches? Well the answer is; all the darn time! You had chances at the Roulette Championship, more than one as a matter of fact! You even had a chance to dethrone J2H for the World title and yet each time you had these chances and the chips were down, you choked. Synn got you the opportunities. You just didn't make the most out of them. But I imagine it's just easier to blame him rather than on your own short comings. And speaking of short comings..."
"Who are you kidding with that whole 'I do my curls for the girls' business? I remember walking into your hotel room that you shared with Synn. I saw things I hope I never see again and all I can say is -- no straight guy would do those things with another man no matter WHAT the rewards!"
"But there won't be any rewards this time around. You got your chance to hurt Despayre by taking away his Internet Championship, but here's a nugget of information for you to process in that Troglodyte brain of yours; Despayre doesn't care about the Internet Championship! He'll fight to retain it, if only to give himself the satisfaction of seeing you denied! No, what HE cares about is his friends and family, and defending them against a lunatic such as yourself! My Despy is a brave and fierce lad, loyal to the end! A fact that I imagine is completely lost on you. Well ... it won't be for long."
"It won't be too long before you're made to answer for your crimes, Shipman. It won't be too long before you find out just how big of a pile of meadow muffins you've stepped into! You won't be going into this match against fun loving Despayre who hops around in excitement and laughs and is out for a good time. You're going in there against a son out to defend his father, and in this case, you're going to discover there is no more dangerous animal on the face of this planet."
