[Mark Ward]

 Post all roleplays for this match here.

Limits: 1 roleplay per week, 10,000 max

Good luck!

[Ben Jordan]

 Underground 60

My hand had hit the canvas for the third time faster than I thought. I'm not saying I expected an instant classic, but I might have hit that canvas faster than I should have. Father Gerald told me to count faster and I did, but I dunno why. It was a kinda smart arse reaction that I'd always hated in wrestling. It didn't take long for me to sit there and have it dawn on me...

Reputation ruined.

Yes, I felt at that point years of building my reputation as a great, fair wrestler had gone down the pan and hearing the ring announcer announce Mark Cross as the winner left me feeling like someone had put a boulder in my stomach. It wasn't because Mark Cross had won, far from it. It was because I counted fast. Again...

Reputation ruined.

I ain't saying that Mark Cross wouldn't have won, I ain't one of those people slating his lack of effort since winning Blast From The Past - Yes O'Malley, I'm looking in your direction - but maybe I should have given Gerald more time to see where the match progressed to. Wrestling two matches at Into The Void IX wouldn't have bothered me, but like O'Malley quickly pointed out on Twitter, my saintness had faded. Again...

Reputation ruined.

I think my point is across there. I felt bad that all I had worked for had gone cause of a rush of blood to the head or something, but whatever it was, I had to shake it off quickly, because I had bigger issues to deal with. It didn't stop that walk to the back any easier, I was more than feeling that weight of the bolder weighing me down, keeping me more centered. Realistically, it was probably just a feeling, cause my moving up that ramp moved rapid with the SCW World Heavyweight championship over my shoulder. Not to leave Mark Cross time to celebrate, nor to avoid Gerald's rants. My wife was my priority.

Before I got back to the hotel from the SCW show to the SCU show, with a quick and brisk walk with my wife and SCU head of security Casey Williams, from the Staggs Dungeon across to the convention center in the Saxon Hotel Convention center, I had to deliver bad news to Evie - Our pet snake Kitten was not improving and it wouldn't be long before she was not with us anymore.

It took all my power to tell her that after a match she'd just lost to Alicia Lukas, she was taking that hard enough, but to have me pile on extra news that wasn't good, hurt her.

She'd come to the Sin City Underground show with me after some persuasion. Everything screamed at her to run home, but I couldn't have let her do that. She'd have smoked a packet and done a bottle of whiskey before I would have even got down to the ring.

I had asked Casey to keep an eye on her while I did what I had to. Distract her with anything, talking about the time he and I faced off over the ACW World Championship, show her pictures of his kids, anything. It worked as I got back through the curtain and gave the big man a nod as I moved towards him and Evie.

"Anyway." Casey said finishing his conversation with Evie. "I gotta go. I'll see you both soon."

I appreciated Casey's help.

"Thanks big fella." I said as he walked away from the scene, but my attention moved back to my wife. "Thank you for still being here."

Evie looked at me, her eyes sad, and not sure how to react.

She'd always shown strength in public, unless it was romance with me, where she didn't care if the world was watching or not. She never wanted to show any kind of weakness, it wasn't in her past life training.

"Well, we're back at the hotel already." I said as I put my hand on her shoulder. "Let's just go get those swabs stuck up our hooters and call it an early night."

She looked at me with sadness in her eyes.

"I..." it was almost like it took everything to just get one word past her lips.

I had a choice to make at this point, a tough choice but I knew I would make the right choice. At that point, it's something I knew that needed to be done. After all, people can't judge me for this I thought at the time, knowing that everyone is flirting with the rules. Hell, if people can bugger off and work for multiple companies during this thing, a few days wouldn't hurt for someone that has stepped outside of the hotel once in all these weeks, and it was my birthday after all.

"You know what Eves?" I rhetorically said as I stroked her shoulders. "Go to the room, grab out passports, cash, anything valuable that you wouldn't leave in the safe and of course, Bear."

She looked at me with a slight look of surprise, a look I've seen countless times, but this felt different. She was usually good at working out what was on my mind, but this time, she didn't have a clue what was going through my mind.

"Just erm." I continued. "Just do that and I'll just go do a couple of things quickly and meet me in the lobby of the hotel, ok? Don't question it, just do."

I don't know why she didn't pop me one for saying that so bluntly, maybe it was the grief setting in through her, and it was unlike her not to question - trust me, trying to plan a surprise party for her was always harder than it should have been - but she nodded, listened and walked.

"Now to do what I need to." I said to myself.

My eyes looked around for certain people, or a certain person. The show was just ending and wrestlers were not exactly shy. They were in the hotel they've been in for months, there was no shower facilities in the hotel conference center. I mean why would there be? People were already moving past me in their wrestling gear to get back to their rooms to shower in peace and quiet to reflect on their working day, but I was looking for one of two people.

"Anyone seen Christian Underwood or Mark Ward?" I asked as people passed.

I looked around but no one seemed to be listening to a word I said, till a familiar hand tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see GRIME Nightmare champion Vixen Staggs standing behind me.

"Hello stranger!" I said with a smile. "How ya doing?"

"I'm good." Vixen said with a nod.

Should probably take the time to explain something here so you don't think it's all random, especially you newer fans. The Staggs Dungeon was actually a place I was familiar with all too well. I never trained there, but I was very close friends with Spike Staggs, and his wife Vixen. We worked together in SCW for years, travelled all over the place, I know Spike's son Tim very well. Known him since he was a kid. The Staggs were like a second family to me and I often found myself in Canada working on training with Vixen. That woman has hurt me in the ring off camera more times than I care to admit.

"I would so hug ya, but all this social distancing stuff." I commented.

"Yeah, we can kick the hell out of each other, but hugging seems to be a no no." Vixen said with a nod.

"Nice title belt there." I said as a nodded towards her GRIME Nightmare championship.

"Likewise." She replied as she looked at my championship belt over my shoulder.

"Cheers." I replied with a nod. "It's alright."

I smiled at my long time friend and torturer in those training sessions.

"Did I hear you was looking for Mark or Christian?" She said with that Canadian accent reaching above the noise.

"I am." I replied. "I need to speak to them about something urgently."

"They were in lobby last time I saw them." Vixen said. "Around the testing area."

"Thanks Vix." I replied with a smile. "I gotta get me skates on, but how about a training session for old times sake in about a weeks time?"

Vixen nodded at me and I took that as my cue to leave and head towards the testing area, the area where SCW and SCU stars were tested for corona virus every Sunday after shows, and whenever a wayward SCW or SCU star would return after working for another company. It didn't take me long to spot Mark Ward and Christian Underwood standing to one side watching over proceedings as SCW stars got tested. I quickly moved towards the two and tried to get their attention.

"Sorry to bother you fellas." I said with a slight wave. "Have you got a minute?"

Both men looked towards me. I knew it was a redundant question because they'd take the time out to talk to anyone who worked for them at any given time. They were approachable once those camera were off.

"What's on your mind?" Mark asked as he looked at me.

This was a tough thing to say, more than tough. I've been sitting talking about staying at home to people since the lock down started. I, along with a few others, have constantly told people to be superheroes and save lives by sitting in doors and watching TV. Now, I was gonna sit there and ask for something I've been speaking against for months. But what did it matter, I might as well do it on a personal level, as well as a wrestling level. Also know as...

Reputation ruined.

I was doing this for the absolute right reason, and I would know I'd take every precaution under the sun.

"I need to leave the hotel for a few days, maybe a week." I said to Mark Ward, but this caused Christian to pay more attention.

"Say what?" Christian asked with a tone of surprise.

"I need to go back to Maine for a bit and take Evie with me." I told them. "We have an issue at home that needs dealing with right away. We have a pet snake at home Evie's bestie has been taking care of along with looking after the house and such. Unfortunately the snake is for want of a better term, on her last legs. You're an animal kinda guy Christian, so you could imagine the effect something like this would have on a person. Pets are family and this has put my wife in a spin."

I knew Christian was an animal lover, and although he claims to be a cat person, I've seen him make googly eyes at Bear. I knew if anyone could relate, it would be him.

"First off." Mark started "Christian is never gonna know about his cat passing away, it's already about one hundred and four years old and looks like a kitten. Been drinking from the fountain of youth for years."

Mark looked at Christian with a look that told me this was an inside joke between the two.

"You're gonna have to come up with some new material." Christian said as he rolled his eyes at Mark, but he ignored Christian to continue.

"Secondly." He continued. "As much as I'm ok with it, I do have a couple of concerns."

"My health?" I replied.

I knew this would be a worry for them, and it was in the back of my mind too but wasn't if that made sense. I'd been feeling better than ever and yes, although I knew I was more at risk than most, I knew I could make it work.

"Wasn't so long ago, things didn't look good for you." Christian reminded me.

"I understand." I said. "But I've been in this hotel for months, no negative tests here. I'm not like everyone else who don't care about the rules and who have gone on living life like nothing's happened. I'm not going to dodgy places around crowds. I'm not like people who work in a million different places during a pandemic. I'll be going home to deal with this, stay in the house or at least on the property for a few days, week tops and I'll be back."

"I appreciate you coming to us first." Mark said. "Some people are just irresponsible dicks, who come and go as they please, with no regard to anyone. We'll let you guys do this, but a couple of conditions."

I looked at them both, waiting to see what they had to say.

"You both get tested before you go." Christian said "Stick to state laws, wear a mask, and retested on the way back in."

"Does the state have laws to stay in for a certain amount of time?" Mark questioned. "Cause if they hold you for two weeks, we're gonna have an issue."

It was a good question, I didn't know, it was never at the front of my mind. It didn't matter to me, I would figure it out.

"I don't know." I admitted to them both. "But I have met the governor of Maine once or twice on a social standing. I do have a way of contacting her in the air. Don't worry about me picking anything up from the plane either, it's mine and Eves plane anyway. Our pilot has been in lock down in Vegas for weeks, so I think we're all good."

The two share a look at each other.

"Just stick to the rules of the state." Mark reminds me. "And if either of you test positive, no leaving the house at all cause we need you both fighting fit in two weeks."

I nodded at them, thankful for their understanding as I caught Evie returning out the corner of my eye as my head turned to nod at her.

"We'll be back within the week." I promised. "And I'll make sure I'll get some match hype recorded and sent in as soon as I can. Thank you guys, I appreciate it."

Both men nodded at me and I moved towards Evie and Bear, looking at me, as confused as she was slightly earlier.

"What's going on?" She asked me in a firmer tone.

"Well..." I said. "First off, we're gonna join that line to get jabbed up the nose, and then we're going home."

Evie looked at me, unsure if she heard exactly what I was saying correctly.

"We're going home Eves." I said a little more seriously. "Not you playing real life prison break, I've cleared it, we're not just doing a runner, agreed to some rules, but either way, we're off home."

I could feel the surprise coming from her, she probably expected me to talk her out of going home, but my halo was a little rusty after this night anyway. It was time, if only for a few days, to go and look at the lake once more and that's what we did. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't easy, there was other hoops to jump through, but first things first, swab up the nose and homeward bound.



It wasn't long before we were out of the hotel in a car used by the hotel to get us to the nearest small, private airport that we often used to fly in to whenever Vegas was show town. Our plane had been grounded there for months, our pilot looked after in a rented house. He was delighted to get the call he'd hoped for since lock down begun and was more than happy to be flying again. He had met us at the plane, a wave from the cockpit window and a smile on his cheery face told us he was happy to be sitting behind the controls again, but still keeping within social distancing rules, in the safety of the cockpit behind all the flashing lights and instruments many people like me wouldn't be able to understand.

It was a flight over eight hours to Maine from Las Vegas... bloody hell, I'll never get over how big this country is...  and it was already midnight, but God bless the big country splitting in to time zones, because back in Maine, it was only nine at night, which was a blessing to me, cause I needed to speak to a certain person, one person that could help me determine if we should be turning the plane around and going back to Vegas disappointed, or if we could go home. Governor Janet Mills. Thankfully I'd met Governor Mills on a couple of occasions.

Me and Eves had become a bit of local celebrities when we moved to Bar Harbor, which wasn't what we wanted when we decided to move to the smaller town as a bit of a getaway from crazy city life we were both accustomed to, a place out of the public eye, where we could just be Ben and Evie Jordan, the couple who lived by lake with their dog and snake, but people knew us, people wanted to be around us. Now that wasn't much of a problem to me, I can turn on the smoozing in seconds, but Evie used to be a lot more blunter than I was. Well, to cut a long story short, Governor Mills was in town, there was a whole banquet thing at the mayors mansion and me and Eves were invited along with other distinguished guests. We didn't have any major influence over the place, like everyone else that was there that night, but I guess we was Ben and Evie Jordan after all.

I had sent a message ahead and got a reply from Governor Mills about an online meeting and in the plane, I was set to go.

I looked across at Evie who sat on the other side of the plane. She wasn't mad at me, I'd just lost my seat to Bear, who had jumped up and stayed close to Evie. He knew she was sad about something and didn't want to leave her side. So far he'd sat with his head on her lap for the first hour of the flight, not moving, being protective. I sat on the other side, laptop ready, earphones in to drown out the noise of the plane as best I could and hit that button.

"Bloody hell, just dawned me." I said to myself. "I haven't changed since the show. I must proper pen."

Before I let any doubt about my hygiene pop in to my head, the face of Governor Mills appeared on my screen.

"Governor Mills." I started. "Absolute pleasure to see you again."

Governor Mills was in her seventies, yet still looked sprite for her age, hardworking and dedicated to the people of Maine. I knew she was a firm but fair person so I had to be at the top of my game if things didn't go as planned.

"Please, call me Janet." She said raising her hand. "How are you and your wonderful wife?"

"Thank you for asking Janet." I said, catching a smirk from Evie out of the corner of my eye. "Health wise, we're both very well. How are you?"

"I'm doing well." She replied with a smile.

I knew that I couldn't take up too much of her time, especially at this late hour. She'd casually mentioned to me at our last meeting last year that she was an early riser.

"Thank you so much for taking the time to speak to me." I started. "I know you're incredibly busy right now."

"Pushing papers, reading reports, figures, numbers." She said with a blank tone. "No different than a normal day, just with something out there trying to attack life."

"Don't I know it?" I agreed. "Evie and I have been at a hotel for weeks, not locked away but we only left for work and a birthday surprise for me a few weeks back, but this is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Notice how I don't mash my words together and use proper pronunciation when talking to some people? I didn't want the Governor to think I was a lunatic or anything.

"Oh?" She said in a questioning tone.

I had to put this together right, I couldn't say oi love, if we come home, you're gonna let us out again, right?

"Evie and I have a bit of a family emergency." I explained. "Which needs us to come back in to Maine right away. We're currently in the air right now, but still hours away. I need to know about coming back. I didn't have time to check anything out, it was a very last minute decision, just an hour ago and there was so many things to get put in to place. We had to get the plane sorted, after I had to work, speak to my bosses to do this thing. I've spent the last hour online shopping to get things delivered back to the house."

"I see." She replied with a slow nod of her head.

"I needed to ask you directly about being able to return to Maine for a short time." I soldered on. "We can't afford to come in to Maine and not be able to leave within the week. Need to be able to get back away quickly."

I could see instantly that the Governor was thinking about all I said, I could only hope that things was on my side, at least a little.

"Honestly Ben." She said, giving me a feeling in my stomach as bad as the imaginary stone had earlier. "Outside travel in to Maine is not really allowed till June the first, then a two week quarantine to stop the spread of the virus."

My heart sank, not for me, but for Evie, who couldn't hear a word from the Governor, her voice just through the earphones I had on, but I knew my face had unwantingly changed to disappointment.

"We don't have the virus." I explained.

I watched the Governor lean back in the chair she was sitting on, her eyebrow arched.

"How would you know that Ben?" She asked in a dry tone.

"Well, we've been on lock down at work, basically living in a hotel that's cleaner than most people's houses." I told her. "I mean proper clean. We're talking staff cleaning all the time. We've left a few times for shows, some people have been in and out but the people we work for are decent. You leave for more than a couple of hours, you're tested every time you return. Some people have been tested pretty much every day because they can't stay in and not one case at all. After testing, it's mostly in the rooms till results come back."

"So you have been tested?" She asked.

"Both of us have so many times I've lost count." I explained. "We had the swab up the nose just over an hour ago and the guys we work for have a private lab working for them so results are turned around in hours. I mean we could get results back before the plane even lands. We were tested last week, the week before, the week before and on and on and neither of us have got it."

The Governor looked at me, I could tell the wheels were turning in her head as she stared through the camera.

"Every week?" She questioned with a slight tone of surprise in her voice.

"Every single week." I said. "Without fail at all. Our bosses are very, very careful. They know they're taking a massive financial hit to do this, to keep going, but they wouldn't let us carry that disease or spread it."

I could see I was winning her around with my words, or maybe it was my pleading eyes. I was desperate to get Evie home before Kitten was gone, I would even parachute out of this thing over Maine to get her back home, even though Bear would probably like the jump more than I would. I had one job and that was to get Evie home. If the puppy dog eyes was what I needed than so be it, puppy dog eyes and sympathy tone it was.

"I wouldn't have asked if it was so needed, Janet." I said, using her name to try and help my case. "But it is an absolute emergency, a very time sensitive one."

Governor Mills let out a huge sigh as she looked at my pleading face.

"You know, you're gonna make a fine mayor if you can sell something like that." Governor Mills replied with a slight smile.

I couldn't help but smile back. Knowing that she had come from a law background, arguing cases for a living, that was a very big compliment.

"I appreciate that but we'll have to see about the whole mayor thing." I replied. "Not sure that's gonna happen."

"That's not what I'm hearing." She responded, adding a tilt of her head. "From what I heard from the current council, you are being endorsed by the out going mayor, and very popular amongst the people."

In my heart, I was glowing, I always wanted to do something to make a place better, not for the power, the power means nothing, but to actually help people, to give people a fair chance, to be a good person and make people's lives better. Luck made my life better, but in the tough times, not knowing where my next fiver was coming from, or when I could actually feel like I accomplished something other than slinging pints. I never really had someone come out and just help for the sake of it. I kinda wanted to do that for a long time. I guess you could say wrestling helped, with us telling stories, inspiring and all that but a one to one level of selflessly helping was something I've wanted to do for a while. Look at the world today, what if people said screw it to becoming doctors, or nurses? What if people didn't wanna work in grocery stores or drive delivery trucks? Without their selflessness to keep going right now, you'd be sick and hungry.

"I appreciate that, but first I need to worry about my other job." I said to Governor Mills. "So...."

"Of course" she quickly said back. "If you return directly to your house from landing, directly home until you have those test results back, and send proof that you are both healthy and stick to the rules, I don't see why you can't return to Las Vegas within your time frame."

My insides were dancing with excitement. Having given Evie bad news earlier, it was time to give her some good news.

"You don't know how much I appreciate this." I said to the Governor with genuine appreciation.

The rest of the flight went smooth after I got off the computer. I even got a smile out of Evie after I told her the good news, that we were homeward bound and nothing was stopping us from returning to work. I watched Evie for the last two hours of the flight wring her hands together in nervous anticipation, urging the plane to move faster, trying to force it down. Bear had barely left her side the entire flight, occasionally dropping from the seat for a few minutes to stretch his legs, giving me a few minutes next to my wife before his death stares set in enough to usher me out of my seat and out of the way.

That dog is too bloody spoilt.

The plane had landed without a hitch and my car, locked safely guarded in the small airfield for all the time we was away, was full up and ready to go. It didn't take too long to figure out who was driving, I had thought ahead of this on the plane and stuck to coffee over anything alcohol because I know I'd be behind that wheel when we landed and I was. Thankfully with just the valuables with us, things moved on quickly. Driving the forty five minutes home in the early hours of the morning, just after six local time, was a familiar thing for me when I was working and Evie was at home, but there was a strange feeling to seeing the town of Bar Harbor only slightly less busy than it usually is.

I had read on the way back that although social distancing was still very much in place, the very low number of cases in this area meant more could be open, people could continue to work and they did, but the streets felt slightly more empty than usual. Those forty five minutes felt like twenty as I turned through the town, heading along the only road towards our property, knowing the sneaky motion censors and small cameras installed along the way were lighting up rooms in the house to give advanced warning of anyone incoming.

But we made it... For the first time in months, we were looking through the car windows at our own front door, our little piece of paradise and just for a second, I forgot the sad reason we were there. Evie didn't wait for me, the car door was opened just a second after the brakes were hit.

It was time to say goodbye.

And with that, I will leave you and direct you to Evie's promo.



That day was a long hard day. seeing animals ill after you've loved and cared for them for a long time can be heartbreaking and say what you want about people, animals have a way of softening us all. The rush home for a sick animal is the same as you'd rush home for an ill relative. You've seen what's gone on if you've not just tuned in to see this, and of course, you've seen Evie's promo work, but I needed a minute, just a minute outside of the house so I took myself just to the seat next to the front door, just sitting and looking at the lake.

The evening had kicked in and I'd been awake for over thirty six hours and I couldn't see the end of this long day, but a few seconds and for the first time since Sunday morning, I felt like I could breathe, it was now Monday evening. It was non stop from Sunday morning, but I now could think just for a few seconds cause the last thirty six hours has been nothing but a blur. Unfortunately, my thoughts rolled back to one thing, our ill snake, named Kitten behind that door.

We didn't always have a great relationship if I wanna level with ya. It was a bit ropey, see, I was the step dad and what daughter really takes to their step dad right away? When Evie and I got together, her and Kitten was a package deal, but that snake didn't take to me right away at all. In fact, it used to do things to get a rise outta me. There's the problem with snakes, you never know is they're taking the Mickey or if they really wanna kill ya. Maybe it was luck pushing, maybe it was just having fun but it scared the bejezzus out of me. Let me take you back to not long after Evie and I got together.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and the sounds of Jimi Hendrix could be heard playing over the radio as I laid on the sofa, the morning after the night before if you will.

"Ben?" Evie's voice questioned. "Are you actually gonna get ya arse off the sofa today?"

I ached from the night before's alcohol, tired to my bones of burning the candles at both ends. It would have taken a forklift to pick my arse off the sofa that day. I didn't want to move at all and nothing could make me.

"Not if I can help it." I said with a tired tone, my voice cracking.

I peeked just my right eye open to see Evie standing next to me, her hands on her hips as she looked down at me.

"Well, I gotta go out." She told me in a firm tone. "Bear needs to get out of the house and I need to pick a few things up. Kitten is in her tank, and try not to melt in to the sofa while I'm gone."

"Need a bloody big spatula to get me out if I did." I replied with a smile.

The last thing I saw was Evie shake her head at me, trying not to smile as she turned to leave, before my eyes closed again.

"Wait..." I said slowly "Did she leave me in the house with that snake? I'm sure it's out to get me at times..... But she's in her tank, I'm all good."

I don't know how long I was asleep for after that, could have been minutes, could have been an hour, I had no idea, but I could feel something flicking at my ear. I moved my hand across and it stopped. Musta been dust I told myself, couldn't have been anything else. With that I drifted off again, but I felt something move across my chest. My eyes fired open but there was nothing there.

"What the bloody hell?" I asked myself as I looked down my body to see nothing at all.

Then it dawned on me.... Kitten... Kitten was out to get me for being with Evie! She couldn't have got out of her tank, right? I had to know so I rolled myself off the sofa and got to my feet and moved to where the tank was. I looked in and...

"Oh balls!" I said out loud. "That thing is a reincarnation of Harry Houdini"

I stared down at the empty tank where Kitten was meant to be, looking at the emptiness that stared back at me and my mind wandered back to something flicking my ear a while ago and my eyes went wide.

"Kitten..." I said slowly as I swallowed hard. "No Evie here means she's gonna try and get rid of me. Right can't let that happen."

My mind was racing as fast as my heart, yes, she was Evie's pet but she was also a snake. Evie might be comfortable around snakes, but I'm an Englishman, we don't have many snakes just casually having a wander around, we look at them through glass at London Zoo. I needed to do something, I needed personal protective gear so carefully, after looking both ways around the corner just to be sure, and cautiously exited the room and moves as fast as I could to my bedroom, walking in and shutting the door behind me.

"Right, need something to cover up with." I told myself.

I moved to the wardrobe and opened it, only to see Kitten looking at me! That door didn't stay open for long, cause I quickly slammed it shut, standing with my back against the wood as I breathed deeply, but then it hit me.

"Wait a sec, wardrobe was closed, snakes ain't got hands, she couldn't have got in there." I tried to convince myself.

I put my hand on the door knob and slowly opened the door, but there was no snake there looking back at me. That was a huge sigh of relief if ever there was one coming from my lungs. It was like a rush of pure joy as I opened the door up fully and looked in. I found what I wanted in there and quickly changed and moved around to the door, looking either way through the mask of a beekeepers suit.

"Can't get me in this snakey!" I said with a proud smirk.

I should explain why I have a beekeepers suit just randomly sitting around in the closet. Well, when I got some serious money, I thought I'd be a man of leisure, potter around, do nothing major, so thought I'd need hobbies to fill that time, and beekeeping was one that came to mind.... It never did pan out, but I bought all the gear and everything.

So, I snuck out and in to the hallway and to the living room, my eyes constantly looking around the room, looking for the snake that disturbed me from my slumber. My eyes were darting around like crazy, as if I was looking for enemy soldiers in the jungle, looking for the slightest sign of life.

"I know you're out there plotting young lady." I said, trying my hardest to sound authoritive. "Why don't you just go back to your tank and stay there for a while?"

Of course I wasn't gonna get a response from her, but I constantly looked around the room. My body stiffened up as I felt something brush against my ankle and that was it, I was up on the nearest table looking around.

"This is not funny, Kitten!" I said out loud.

Mate, I'm telling you, there was a grown arse man standing on that table seriously thinking that snake was out to get him. I was that grown arse man, and I know that snake was out to get me. I know for a fact that she was trying to scare me off.

"What the bloody hell am I even doing?" I asked myself out loud.

"Yeah, I was gonna ask you the same thing." A voice behind me said.

I didn't expect that and my eyes widened like saucers.

"Please don't tell me you're a talking snake?" I said to myself softly. "Maybe this is a dream or something, yeah, it's gotta be a dream."

I slowly turned around, my eyes half closed to, to see Evie standing looking at me with a very confused look on her face, holding a bag to her chest.

"Why the fuck are you standing on a table dressed like a beekeeper?" She asked.

I was pretty sure she never thought she'd ever have to say those words to me, or anyone else for that matter.

"That snake his out to get me!" I said thought the mask.

"She's not out to get you Ben." Evie told me.

Evie turns around to take the bag to the other room as I turned back around, only to be met with Kitten looking me dead in the eye, hanging from a light fixture above the table. It shocked me to the point I stumbled backwards and falling backwards off the table with a huge...

CRASH!

Kitten dropped down and landed on my chest before slivering away as Evie walked in to the room to investigate the noise.

"What happened?" She asked as she ran towards me to lean over me.

"I broke my arse, that what happened!" I said wincing.

Funny story, that actually stopped me wrestling for about three weeks, as well as stopping me sitting down.

"Kitten came down from that light up there." I said with a point. "Like the snake in the bible or the one in The Jungle Book and now I have a broken arse."

Evie's eyes darted up seeing nothing there at all as I sat up and pulled myself to my feet.

"She not there, Ben." Evie said. "You're paranoid, she can't get out of her tank unless I take her out. I'll prove it."

Evie and I walked, well, Evie walked and I limped towards where the tank was with Evie and pointed in to it.

"Look, nothing there." I said with a point in the tank.

Evie looked in the tank to see Kitten laying on her favourite rock, her head perking up as Evie looks down. I couldn't believe it! There she was, right there in that tank! Evie gave me a smirking looking.

"That snakes got some Hogan's Heroes set up there, got an escape tunnel or something!" I said to try and be rational.

"She is not out to get you." Evie said. "She likes you."

Evie shook her head at me and turned to leave the room as I looked closely at the tank, Kitten extending her body to bring her face equal with mine.

"Babe." I called out. "Can snakes smile? Cause I swear...."

I really could see Kitten smiling at me at that point. I'm glad the relationship improved after that.

You know, looking back on that, that was one of a million stories I could have told you about her, but it's one that now makes me smile when I think about it. She and Bear seemed to hit it off too. I'm gonna miss sitting there with a game on the box, Bear's head on one leg, Kitten curled up in a coil on my other leg. I don't think it matters if you're a dog person, a cat person, or even like my wife, a snake person, losing a pet is like losing a family member. Routine changes and you miss the little moments. You miss so much about them that you took for granted and thing's will never be the same again. Things will never be the same again for us, but you can't take away the memories made.

My memories of Kitten won't fade, you never forget your family.



It's been ages since I've been able to sit here and do this. Sit at the lake and record something for you all to see. I know it's been a little limiting on how many places you can do some straight talking from while sitting in a hotel, but some have been more creative than others. Some have gone the whole host of effects from what they could find dotted around the gaff, some have just spoke to a reporter. For the first time in all those months, I haven't been by a pool or at the bar, I was home, I was by the lake and the sun was beating down on the water, giving it an extra tint of colour, the breeze was welcomed across my face, my eyes were on the water and a makeshift camera stand was next to me.

I promised the staff being away from the hotel was not gonna effect my work and I wanted to keep my word, so just me here, nature, a camera and of course, the SCW World Heavyweight championship on my lap.

"Alright people." I quickly say as I turn my head a little to look at the camera.

I take a moment to let my eyes move around the beautiful scene around me, just to put my thoughts in order.

"So it's all come down to this." I said softly "All those months of Blast From The Past, all those months waiting for this supercard to show up so that the biggest match ever between Sin City Wrestling and Sin City Underground can take place. Last week, Mark Cross defended the Sin City Underground, Underground championship. I was there, I was in the ring, I counted the three myself and now this match stakes have raised sky high, everything is on the line, one man is gonna walk out of there the top boy of both companies, something no one has ever done before. There's been crossover stars all the time, but no one with the success of Mark Cross."

It was true, in my eyes, Mark Cross was the most successful crossover star.

"I see it that way anyway." I say with genuine words. "Others don't, others think you're a bit of a slacker Mark, bit of a waste of air time. You show up when you want, half arse it, disappear. Some people have even pointed out the fact that you only show up to be on camera so you can sniff around a few birds. I can see that last part anyway, because you do come across as a bit of a dog in heat, first Mikah, than Tallyn, then trying to win my wife over. I try not to listen to the bad people say about you, I try to listen being the right term because sometimes, it's hard not to see the evidence in front of you. People have sat there and questioned if you're in this for the championships or if you're in this just to meet a couple of Doris's on the side."

I know a lot can be said for many other SCW stars, but this was glaringly obvious.

"You could probably feel singled out here." I said just shrugging my left shoulder. "When everyone else here is like a dog chasing a bone, but the difference is, they're not you, they're not in the same position you are. Those people don't have a match to get ready for with two championships on the line, so I am starting to wonder..."

I hate it when people's words subconsciously slip in to my mind.

"Are you actually a top guy, or are they correct?" I ask. "Are they right in thinking that you lucked your way to the SCU Underground championship without working too hard for it? If it wasn't for my wife keeping you on your toes during the tournament, would you have even got this far?"

Mark Cross was a guy I really couldn't work out at times. In the ring he was fairly solid but something was missing with him.

"And just say Mark, say you get around me, get this bad boy." I say as I look at the championship belt. "Are you actually ready to step in to the big shoes I'm wearing here? Are you ready to step up and go and be a leader? See, I'm not silly enough to sit here and talk all that rubbish like others do about holding the championship forever, I ain't dopey enough to think that's even possible, I know I will lose it at some point, but heaven forbid at Into The Void IX that my time comes to an end and it's time for a new era to begin, are you ready to do what I do and show up every week? To try and sell this company to the best of my ability every time I can, to whoever I can. Can you do that?"

It was a serious question.

"I know this belt goes from me at one point, but I've been at every single show since becoming the champion." I remind the world. "Before that too. I'm not a stat guy, but I'm sure someone could sit there and work out how many shows in a row I've been on. That is the legacy I'm leaving when my time is done, I'm leaving a hard path to follow and if the next champion can't keep up the pace I set, they're gonna flop. Can you keep up the pace?"

I look at the camera.

"I hate to sound like O'Malley here, but I don't think you can." I comment. "Just look at the evidence. You've been Sin City Underground's top champ for ages but shows pass and there's no Mark Cross. I get that a lot of champs don't show up there or SCW regular, but you're the top champ mate, you should be there working ya nuts off to lift that company and looking at it, it looks like they're more used to seeing others than you. It's no way to lead a million dollar company. You're supposed to be the face of the place and a lot of the time, you're nowhere to be seen, so do I think you're ready?"

I had to shake my head.

"No, I don't think you're ready to be SCW World Heavyweight champion." I say with a serious tone. "And it pains me to say that because you're a talent in the ring, but full package, you are not even close. For me to lose the belt at this point would be a disaster for SCW, it would be a disaster for the fans. The fans still buying our stuff, still cheering us from afar, deserve better than an absent champion, so they will drive me on to make sure SCW doesn't have an absent champion after Into The Void IX. It's been a theme with the fans wondering what would happen if you won the belt. Would they see more of Austin James Mercer or Jack Russow than they would see of you and I hate to break it to you, most of them seriously think they will. When Evie defeats Andrea Hernandez, she'll be on the shows every week, Kate Steele is about every week, to be brutal, the fans expect they'll see more of every other champion in SCW than they would see you if you won this title."

I couldn't help but look down at the championship again.

"People have been calling for your head in SCU because of this." I say confidently. "I've had people in SCU begging me to go out there and take that Underground title from you. People have said I would make a better leader of the company than you would and I've had one match there. I don't think it's because I'm amazing, it's because you haven't been pulling that weight of yours. I've been told to go and liberate that championship from you."

There was a lot of people in SCU that have been speaking to me about this, I wasn't lying. The truth is so many are still surprised Mark Cross is still employed let alone a champion.

"I feel a bit like a superhero in a way, cause I get to save SCW from having a World Heavyweight Champion not ready to be the champion, as well as free the people of Sin City Underground." I say with a slight laugh. "Ah man, I would think of that now, coulda whacked on a Superman costume or something."

Yeah, you see what I did there.

"I don't think I'm ready to let this thing go yet." I said honestly. "I worked too bloody hard to let this go without a fight, I've been pushing myself to the limits constantly for so long to be able to call myself the SCW World Heavyweight champion. I've worked as hard as any champion has. I've worked as hard as Fenris, as hard as Austin James Mercer, who have had legendary runs here, I've worked as hard the greats and I will continue to work hard till my time is up but I'm gonna make this crystal clear to you Mark, my time is not up yet. There's a lot more steam in me and if you think winning the Blast From The Past is gonna do you any favours, it's not. My wife might have helped you get there, but realistically, what she really did was bring the Underground championship right to my lap to put alongside my one."

That was a thought worth smiling about. My wife has given me a lot in life but she has now given me the shot to be a multi company champion.

"No one works harder than me." I say in a firm tone. "And I know that you may well have plotting, planning, working on things, trying to come up with something special for weeks while you've been avoiding SCW, in fact I'll put money on it that you've been coming up with a battle plan for weeks, a master plan if you want. I would even put money on this being a ploy. I think you don't give a monkeys, and I walk in to a trap, an ambush but nah mate, not happening. I coulda just did what you did, I coulda just hedged myself towards SCW and stayed there but no, when the call came for me to work with SCU, I jumped at the chance. I jumped at the chance to get in the ring and be your partner and hand you a win, I jumped at the chance to pull on the stripes, because I ain't sitting from afar to learn about someone. It don't work that way for me, I wanna be up close to the action and see that close what you could do and well, mission accomplished."

It's never been my style to hide away, always believed if you wanna learn something about someone, you need to be around them.

"While you've been watching everything you can find on me, while sitting with a pint on the sofa, I put in the leg work." I say as I look down the camera. "I got up close, I got personal and I watched the way you handled The Good Shepherds on those occasions and I formed a master plan of my own. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't go in to matches with the same old tired game plan, I ain't approaching you the way I approached O'Malley, or Jake Raab, or Fenris. I needed to be up close to iron out a few details and I did, so no matter what ambush you have sitting waiting for me, I'm ready for it. I've used that word ambush a lot because I know I'm walking in to one. I mean if you're that much of a plonker that you've stayed away and done nothing, than you don't deserve to be in this match. If you haven't put in a lick of work with your mostly silence, then you should just give up now, hand that title belt in and go."

I know it was harsh words from me but I worked so hard to keep things rolling in SCW, I didn't want it ruined.

"I have lead the superstar division through probably the toughest time in our history of the world." I say as I think about the state of the world. "I have done all I can to make the best of a bad time with the world the way it is. I have tried to lead and give normality when outside any walls, it's the furthest thing from normality as you can find. I have stepped up and kept things as sane as they could be and I plan on keep doing that and that means continuing as champion. I got a whole world of motivation going in to this one Mark. God knows where I got it from, but it's there and I'm gonna make sure that I step out to that ring as the SCW World Heavyweight champion and come back through that curtain as the SCW World Heavyweight and the SCU Underground champion."

I could feel the confidence running through me a little as I continued.

"I've hit so many goals over the last seven months or so, done some amazing things but this is going close to the top of the list." The confidence translate from my feeling to vocals. "It's not a chance that comes along every day, I know this is gonna be once in a blue moon, I know this is the only shot I got and being both companies leader, I know everyone on the roster would swap places with me in a second if they had the chance. I know the eyes of both companies are looking at us both and I know both companies are urging me on to make sure I walk away with both championship and believe me mate, I won't be able to redeem myself in their eyes if I don't walk through that curtain holding both championships."

I do need to redeem myself after Underground sixty... Reputation ruined and all that.

"It's my chance to redeem myself for that fast three count that kept that championship belt on you. Redemption comes in the form of freeing the SCU roster." I say with a firm nod. "They know what they're gonna get with my Mark. They know I'm gonna be working two shows every Sunday, they know I will wrestle twice every Sunday if I have to and if I don't, I'm gonna be there anyway. The whole locker room know what to expect from me, two locker rooms and that's what they really want Crossy, they want to see me lead them both and lead I will."

I felt that I had to get the SCW World Heavyweight championship in a better camera view as I considered wrapping this up, so I lift it over my shoulder.

"It's all about this." I say with a quick finger point towards the championship. "And this one will have a new friend to knock around with in just over a week cause at Into The Void IX, the Underground championship is gonna come home with this guy. If you want that to change, you got just over a week to come up with a new plan of attack cause I'm telling ya now, your one ain't gonna work."

I look down the camera with a serious look on my face.

"I'm gonna beat Mark Cross, I'm gonna lead SCW and SCU at the same time, I will be remember for what happens at Into The Void IX." I say with confidence. "But I do wish you luck and hope you bring something decent to that ring, cause if nothing else for ya, it's time to show that us English guys have taken over American wrestling, that we are the best in the world bar none."

I truly believed that, British wrestling was starting to dominate the wrestling world and this was a perfect chance to show that off.

"So anyway people." I quickly say as I start to wrap things up. "It's been an absolute pleasure as always to sit here and talk to you, I hope you're still all staying safe, looking after the people who need it, and being vigilant against this. Trust me, it will pass. I will see you all next week."

I stand up, but keep my face within the camera, my body hunched over.

"Laters people."

I wink at the camera before reaching over and switching the camera off.

[The Dragon]

 Part 1 - A Trip Down Memory Lane

10th October 2017
GIW Revolt - Backstage

The steel folding chair swung again...then again...then again...rebounding off skull, shoulder, arm, the wielder didn’t care as their fit of rage built to a crescendo. The victim let out cries of pain with each strike, each becoming higher pitched and increasingly desperate as they realised the end to the assault was nowhere in sight. As we zoom out, the picture becomes increasingly more bizarre. The attacker, giving away a whole foot in height, bucketloads in stature, and had maybe a third in muscle mass, was in the ascendency. It was held by Galveston Island Wrestling’s Legacy champion, the 16-year old Faith Simpson, otherwise known as “The Future”, and before her last birthday, “The Fifteen Year Old Phenom”. Her gritted teeth could be seen periodically as her blonde locks swung around her face wildly in time with the barrage.

As we see her come mere millimetres away from connecting a clean strike to the unprotected face of the adonis of a man, for reasons currently unknown, the screen freezes. The voice of Mark “The Dragon” Cross steps in as narrator.

Let’s just pause for a second, after all, you probably want some context as to how a teenager ended up swinging for the fences at the face of a guy that was no stranger to a bout of ‘roid rage. It paints the weirdest picture. This is a story about loss. We all experience loss of course, and while they all stick with us in some way, shape or form, not all loss is created equal. Five bucks out of my pocket, who cares. The life of a human I care about? Big impact. In the past five years, I can think of three examples of loss that will live long in my memory. The sudden passing of my Dad, who was the single biggest influence on the person I became...or are still striving to be, the loss of Amanda, the girl that captured my heart from the moment we met, as our marriage of over ten years fell around our ears, and while temporary, the loss of Faith Simpson as my star student.

The first, irreversible, and while by far the most heartbreaking, we will come back to that at another time, in another run of matches. The second, well we’ll talk about that a little bit in part two, and the third...well that whole saga was an interesting story to say the least...but it resolved itself in the end, in the most brutal of ways. Let me set the scene. Galveston Island Wrestling was the last place I really called home before Sin City, as far as my own career went. Afterwards I bounced around, putting myself in the places I needed to be to help Faith, and on a time schedule that did too. After a mentally and physically draining run for the GIW Undisputed title that I’ll refer to later, I took the opportunity to head back to Japan for a tour. Filling my spot on the roster, and stepping into an open Battle Royale used as a proving ground for new and potential signings, was Faith Simpson. The winner got a shot at the Legacy title belt. She was fifteen at the time, and while stepping into that level of competition at such a young age is definitely not recommended, and wouldn’t even be entertained by most promotions, she wasn’t your regular teenage upstart.

I’ve probably said this before, but Faith is that person you hate, unless she’s on your team. Sport wasn’t her strongest suit as she progressed through school, she played a little bit of soccer, normally warming the bench as an impact sub, when her pure speed would be enough to scare a defender or two, but wrestling, that was was in her blood, Faith’s third generation, and when she gets in a wrestling ring she doesn’t think, she just does. One of my favourite examples of this was when I faced her in a training match. Up to then, she’d only performed her finisher from a standing start. It was to my surprise on this day, as I came off the ropes at full-tilt, to find myself on the receiving end of a Twist of Faith, with both of us at a dead run. Yes, it does hurt a lot more at speed, yes my chiropractor had a good payday from me for the rest of the week, and most annoyingly when I asked her about it afterwards, she shrugged, and said it just happened, she guessed. Brilliant.

To her debut then. The nerves were evident that night, and she spent a lot of time keeping out of the way (these days we call it pulling a Teddy Warren), but an opportunity arose, Have a Little Faith from the top rope, one, two, three. She had a shot of becoming the youngest champion in company history. She won that match too by the way, and at fifteen she had already achieved something that others didn't manage in a whole career, championship gold.

In a company with it's fair share of powerful, successful women, Faith was starting to make a splash of her own. She was getting on the radars of the wrong people, and not long after her sixteenth birthday, she defended her title successfully for the first time. As she tried to catch her breath and enjoy the victory, she was viciously assaulted by Aspen Chaud and Alexis Terry with two steel chairs. Two Hall of Fame inductees, intimidated by a teenager with some early success and some blistering speed around a wrestling ring.

Over the next two weeks, we’re going to reflect on some of the most pivotal moments, and the impact it had on some of its key players, then, and now.

29th June 2017
The Simpson Residence

Her parents blamed me for not protecting her, even though I was over in Japan at the time. During this time I left her in the hands of Leon “Octane” McKane, who had trained me since day one of my wrestling journey, a grizzled veteran with over 30 years of in-ring experience and “Deadly” Devinee Delaney, with over 10. In short, she was left in safe, experienced hands. Nobody expected what happened that night to have taken place. Had I been there, would it have been different? Probably not, I wouldn’t have seen it coming until it was too late either. I maybe could have delivered some instant justice, but the damage had already been done

Maybe I should have seen it coming, I mean. I knew Faith was a threat, I worked with her every day, but I figured with her age, and her inexperience, she wouldn’t have been a big concern to anyone else. Her parents thought I’d dropped the ball. I'd abandoned my post...but I left her with people I trusted. Who was to blame, the man who trained me my entire career. One of my oldest friends, who embarked on her own wrestling career around the same time as mine in football...or the staff of Galveston Island Wrestling...who let a teenager, and a potentially huge draw for them as her stock rose, get worked over by two of its biggest stars. I would say option three.

We are taking to a large dining table. Seated around it are Mark “The Dragon” Cross at one end. At the other, Faith’s parents. The placement signifies the obvious stand-off taking place in the room as we jump in. Sitting off to the side, eyes puffy and red, quite understandably, sits Faith.

Faith’s Dad: I'm sorry Mark, we've just decided to go in a different direction.

Faith’s Mom: We think it's for the best.

The Dragon: The best for who exactly?

Mark’s voice was raised just a little. He was trying to keep composure, but it was clear that it was on the rocks by now. Her parents on the other hand were the combined face of calm and solidarity.

Faith’s Dad: For Faith. For her career.

The Dragon: And Faith, do you agree with this...honestly?

Faith: I...I don't know…

Faith’s Mom: We'd rather not make a scene. She starts with her new trainer on Monday.

The Dragon: I'm not making a scene. I'm trying to figure out what happened here. Besides you said a different direction, who did you pick to replace me anyway, which gym?

Faith’s Dad: Apollo Adams.

Mark’s fist struck the table as soon as he heard the name.

The Dragon: Are you FUCKING kidding me? The roid head? The guy's a sadist, is he going to juice Faith up too or just run her into the ground?

For a best description of Apollo, think Teddy from Brooklyn Nine-Nine, but with bigger arms and shorter legs. To his credit, Augustus Adams was a good wrestler in college, and his pro career started with plenty of promise and some good results against some experienced heads. He wisely adopted a snappier first name for his in-ring persona, and he looked like he would belong on the circuit.

Early on he found an addiction to the weight room, as what had started out as a means to make him more durable in the ring brought with it the buzz of lifting heavier, seeing the muscle building in the mirror, and it took over his training regime. He spent less and less time working on wrestling fundamentals, and his in-ring skills fell further and further down his list of priorities. His (ab)use of steroids became infamous as he looked for further improvement to his physique. His sloppy ring work became ever more dangerous, and his tactics leaned more and more towards damaging opponents and less towards outwrestling them. Plus, he had a mean streak when things didn't go his way too, which was on a short fuse as a result of the regular juicing. He struck fear into opponents, not because of his ability, but they’d rather not risk the time on injured reserve to chalk up another win. He had a similar effect to Fenris in Sin City, only the White Wolf does it with far more class and finesse.

Apollo's work ethic when it came to training was unmatched, and while taking on students seemed more like a means to fund his growing list of vices than out of any real desire to make anyone better, those that managed to stay the course with him came out as warriors, and more than capable of withstanding the physicality of the sport, although in dire need of some going back to basics. I couldn’t deny that he was bringing some things to the table that would benefit Faith, but on balance I feared the worst.

The Dragon: You're trying to tell me someone that unstable is the safer bet than me, really?

Faith’s Dad: It's more because she needs someone that won't let that bullshit happen to her again. You're too passive Mark, too laid back. You think two grown women laying into our daughter with steel chairs is character building? Or are you trying to stay in the good books with your employer for when you decide to come back from Japan? My family have been in this business for enough years to understand how this works, jealousy is a terrible thing and those women definitely shouldn’t know better, but the business shouldn't have to toughen her up, YOU should prepare her. Faith ran before she could walk because of you. A champion at 16?

Faith’s Mom: We run a promotion Mark! If she was going to debut anywhere it should have been with us, we’d have wrapped her up in cotton wool and made sure it was done right.

The Dragon: She's already good enough to hold down that belt. She’s a champion now. She’s a winner now, and she defended well. Why stifle that when she’s ready to spread her wings? And why should I let you make this a financial thing?

An icy feel suddenly descended on the room.

Faith’s Mom: What do you mean financial?

Faith’s Dad: Don’t you dare...you know it’s not about that…

Faith: Huh?

Faith’s Mom:It’s nothing Faith…

The Dragon: You wanted her to debut in your promotion, wait for her to light it up like you know she’s going to, fill more seats, sell more merchandise, it’s a business decision isn’t it? That’s exactly why I pushed her elsewhere. It should be about Faith, not me, not you guys, not your promotion…

Faith: Is that true Dad?

Faith’s Dad: Get out. You know that’s not what I think.

He’s right, I did. Faith’s parents and her Grandad, who started the Simpson family legacy, were the good guys. They absolutely put their daughter above their own interests, and I was desperately trying to throw a spanner in the works. It was immature, it could have damaged their relationship with their daughter for life, and could have derailed Faith’s career too.

I felt bad about it then. Thinking back to it now, I still do. I wished I’d never said it, but I put those words out there, and no matter how things went from then on, there was no way I could ever take them back.

6th July 2017
Dragon’s Lair Gym - New Orleans

I was devastated. I don't think anyone expected it to hit as hard as it did, especially me. After all, working with someone as their main coach if you like was a new thing for me. I was still very much in the prime of my career, I was still working a full-time schedule, and while I contemplated pulled the plug on my time in Galveston Island Wrestling after the situation with Faith, as one door began, another door was opening. ECWF were based in Miami, my hometown, were a long established brand, and we were in the early throws of contract negotiation. Something about home was calling to me.

To their credit, my team did their best to try and cheer me up. Also to her credit Amanda, who knew me better than all of them put together, didn't. She knew it was better to leave me to work through it, and anything she tried would likely do more harm than good. As I think back to moments like this in my life, I realise how little I appreciated my wife sometimes. The best things she did for me were often the things she decided not to do. Maybe that’s why I didn’t realise until it was too late.

We are taken to the tiny side office of the Dragon’s Lair’s second location out in New Orleans. Following a short-lived brand split that saw Mark moved to the city, and with no suitable options for a place to train, they copy-pasted their original business model and made one. Mark is seen sitting behind the desk, speaking to lead trainer Leon McKane.

Octane: I’ve got this girl I want you to look at. I think she’s got something.

The Dragon: A girl. How old is she, a teenager?

Octane: She’s 18, man.

The Dragon: A little rough around the edges but good potential, maybe a bit of a high flying type?

Octane: How did y-

The Dragon: You tried to find the first Faith replacement in need of a trainer and brought her into the gym.

Octane: Listen man, when she was here it was different, YOU were different. Focussing on Faith made you focus more on your own career as well somehow, coaching is good for you.

The Dragon: Coaching was good for me. Maybe one day it will be again, but I’ll jump back in when I’m ready.

Octane: Just...man will you just look at her? She’s Japanese?

The Dragon: Why didn’t you just say that!?!

Bounding up from the desk, The Dragon brushed past Octane in his hurry to get to the door, throwing open the exit from the small office and out onto the gym floor. Turning to face the sound of it opening, are two middle-aged Japanese, likely the girl’s parents, who beam as soon as they catch sight of him.

Mum: MA-KU KU-RO-SU!

Dad: Hai! Ma-ku Ku-ro-su!

In the centre of the ring, a bubblegum blue-haired Japanese teenager breaks the side headlock she had her opponent in and waves enthusiastically. Having no patience for the rookie import, her opponent nails a swift elbow to the ribs, followed by a DDT. Mark slowly pushes the door closed.

The Dragon: Why...are her parents here?

Octane: They're renting a house here while she trains with us. They're huge fans of yours from your tours.

The Dragon: We're not uprooting another young girl for her to be disappointed.

Octane: Her family have money, they're happy to do it, they said there was nobody else they'd want to train their daughter. Besides, it'll do you good.

The Dragon: Do me good? What will do me good? This isn't like replacing your son's hamster that died with another similar looking hamster so you don't have to have a conversation about death with them. You can't just bring a replacement Faith in here and pretend that fixes everything.

Octane: But won't it give you something else to focus…

Mark’s fist pounded the wood of the desk, the second time in a matter of days he’d made such a gesture to get his point across.

The Dragon: I HAVE something. My own damn career, don't you get it? I didn't think about putting it on the backburner because I had to. I haven't done that for my own wife, not even once, and she hasn't for me, we both knew that was what we were signing up for. That girl made me want to put her wrestling above mine. You think that happens lightly for someone like me? You think I'm just going to bounce to that girl out there because she’s come a long way?

Octane: I mean you could at least try…

The Dragon: Tell them no Octane. Get rid of them. Is this the grand plan, pick someone so committed to me that they’ll come all this way, make sure what happens with Faith doesn’t happen again? Well I don’t want sure fire bets, I'll pay their goddamn flights back to Japan if I have to just...I want to be back in Miami, not failing another teenager. Get them out of my gym.

Octane: But wha-

The Dragon: Get rid of them Octane. I swear to fucking G-

Octane: OK man, OK, I got this I got this.

With very little argument, Leon McKane did exactly that, bundling the family out of Dragon's Lair, and to the local diner, where he apologized and tried to explain my situation in the clearest way he could to people with a decent, but not native level of English understanding.

He continued to train the girl himself, usually later in the evening, when there were less people in the gym in general, and after I was long gone. I knew what was happening of course, people talked, or asked me questions, out of curiosity. I wanted to try and tell myself that I was doing it out of pity for the family, having come all the way out here to the US in the first place. In truth, I was more curious to see how the girl turned out in the hands of the guy that either taught, or arranged for me to be taught, most everything I knew about the sport.

It’s not particularly relevant, but I will tell you that I did eventually agree to work with the girl, one day per week. Octane handled the rest, and it was an arrangement everyone seemed to be happy and on board with. She was taller than Faith, so she looked a little gangly and awkward in the ring, but dojos in Japan are generally excellent, and she came in with all of the good habits and strong foundations that you would expect. That made adding extra facets to her game was generally a pretty easy experience.

As I read this, the pair are currently working together on Pro Wrestling JAPAN’s latest tour.

17th July 2017
Dragon’s Lair - Miami

Faith and Amanda had their own friendship. I felt it was probably a good idea that they both met the people I’d be spending most of my time with, inside and outside of the ring respectively. Luckily, they both agreed, and consequently they hit it off like a house on fire. Both stereotypical blondes, one from the Midwest, and one from the South, they made quite the pair. It sounded strange, but Faith was almost like the younger sister that Amanda and I never had. As Like-minded women they could talk for hours, and often Amanda would let me in on the aspects of my student’s life that I never really had the emotional bandwidth to ever pick up on.

I figured, almost hoped, it would have fizzled out to nothing, but I guess their friendship could outlast even if mine couldn’t.

Amanda pushed herself into the office with her free hand, the other one still holding the phone close to her ear. The New Orleans office was more spacious than here in Miami, but only just.

Amanda: Faith honey I'm just gonna put you on speakerphone okay? I found him.

She puts the phone down on the desk in front of The Dragon. He stares blankly at it, then at Amanda, for an uncomfortably long time, before shaking his head lightly.

The Dragon: Heyyyy Faith, how's the new training regime?

Faith: Oh you know...there's a lot more running i guess?

The Dragon: That sounds like Apollo.

Faith: Does it?

The Dragon: From what I’ve heard, yeah. Any matches?

Faith: Well my conditioning sucks so I’m not getting anymore matches for a while.

The Dragon: Your conditioning sucks huh?

Faith: That’s what Apollo’s told my Dad.

The Dragon: Wow.

Faith: Yeah.

There is a period of extended, awkward silence. Amanda, who had been leaning against the wall, pushes off it and moves closer so she can smark Mark in the arm. Faith, over ten years the junior, is first to have the presence of mind to break the silence.

Faith: Hey - Dad said you're training this girl from Japan now?

The Dragon: How did you…

Faith: He was talking to her parents about signing her and it came up, apparently they'd only want to come to the US if it was to work with the Dragon?

The Dragon: Not exactly, I'm potentially signing for a company here in Miami so she's Octane's new pet project. I haven't got the time to help her properly.

Faith: Is she...um...good?

The Dragon: Good yeah...good enough? No.

Faith: Not good enough to make it you mean?

The Dragon: No...that's not what I mean…Not good enough to make me change my plans to coach her. She’s no Faith Simpson.

Faith: Oh. Look I'm sorry about...you know...the stuff that happened…

Mark lets out a long, deep sigh.

The Dragon: Well we both know none of that was your fault now don't we? At the end of the day it's just business, your career progressing is all that matters and that’s what we have to keep in mind

Faith: I guess…

The Dragon: Hey Faith look, we’ve got dinner reservations so we need to get going OK?

Reacting much faster than his wife, Mark bounces up from the desk and moves behind her, cupping a hand over her mouth so she can’t cut in. She tries anyway, her attempts muffled as she tries to twist and turn away from him.

Faith: Oh...can I call you soon?

The Dragon: Sure...any...time...tomorrow…is fine...

He struggles to get the words out as Amanda, who still can’t speak, tries to hold her husband back from pressing the red button and ending the call. She has the edge on flexibility, but not on strength, which seems to win the day as he almost pulls Amanda off her feet as he edges closer to the phone.

Faith: Are you guys okay?

The Dragon: Yup, fine! Just...clowning around...byeeeeee!

He finally succeeds, managing to reach the button. With the call ended, he releases the grip on Amanda’s mouth, and she smacks him hard on the arm again.

Amanda: You total jerk! She sounds miserable and you cut her off just like that.

The Dragon: Does she?

Amanda: Mark why are you always so bad at this!?!

Amanda chuckles lightly as she scoops up her phone from the desk.

Amanda: Yes, she sounds miserable. She can't stand Apollo, her parents are in her bad books, and she feels like you gave up too easily on her. Oh, and she's a champion. That's a lot to deal with for someone still in school.

Mark throws his hands up in defence.

The Dragon: What more could I have done though Manda, honestly? Fly her out to Miami and hide her in our spare bedroom? That’s a call the cops worthy move.

Amanda: I don't know...probably nothing…it’s tough. Do we actually have dinner reservations by the way?

The Dragon: We do now, where do you wanna eat?

We hear the pair begin to discuss where they’d like to eat as they head out of the office door. Their voices begin to trail away as their distance increases, finishing with silence as the door finally clicks shut.

21st July 2017
Galveston Island Wrestling HQ

Blake Beckett: Get him...outta here…

It was a bit of a comedy scene really, me in a fit of blind rage, grabbing my 5 foot 8 boss by the scruff of the neck while two security guards who were bigger and heavier than me tried to pull me down, or out. It was the kind of mismatch I faced regularly against linebackers in my NFL career. It was clear that I'd still  not lost my touch.

There were a lot of questions as to why I never got induced into Galveston Island Wrestling's hall of fame. This moment probably explained it all.

The Dragon: She's a kid Beckett! A kid! Don’t you get that? I’m not asking for special treatment here just some fucking consideration...

Blake Beckett: Take a few weeks off when you’re finished in Japan please Mark. I think it’ll do you good.

Eventually the two security guys manage to get themselves in front of The Dragon, and with some upward pressure, lift him up onto his toes so he can’t get any push with his legs. As they bundle him further away from the General Manager’s office, his voice increases in volume to cover the distance.

The Dragon: You had a duty to look after here, don’t you see the mistake you’re making? She could have been huge for you, merchandise, PPV sales, ticket sales, when is the last time a talent like that came through these doors, that much potential? Never, they get snapped up by bigger promotions, better development programmes, companies that look after the welfare of their employees! You ruined this Beckett, remember that, you’re going to regret it!

From some distance away we hear the creaking of an external fire door, which reverberates down the length of the corridor as the shouting from the Dragon comes to an end.

That was too little too late. As I mentioned earlier the damage had already been done, and had I maybe kicked down a few more doors earlier, it would have made me look at least a little more capable in the eyes of Faith’s parents, but unlikely to have changed the result.

By this point it had become about letting off steam, about making me feel better about myself. Selfish? Yes. Unfortunately it’s a Cross family trait that everyone seemed to possess. All except my Dad of course. He was the jewel in the crown, and yet he’s the one that isn’t here anymore. I strive to be better. I strive to be more like him. I’d love to say that things had changed of course, but let’s not forget I burned any chance of a friendship with Kate Steele by questioning her parenting skills to win a Blast from the Past match not that long ago.

Still selfish, still trying to be better.


Part 2 - Dismantling the Cockney King

The scene opens to a large, red “TEDx” logo which, judging by the state of the carpet, is resting on the floor of some kind of up-market hotel room. That thought is confirmed a few moments later as the camera pans out to reveal, standing in his hotel room, is Mark “The Dragon” Cross. He is dressed in a slate grey suit and light blue shirt, no tie, and unbuttoned at the collar. He paces around lightly as he addresses the camera.

The Dragon: Now first you deserve a proper explanation for my appearance shortage over the past couple of weeks. I’m not a dancing monkey, wheeled out to entertain the bit-part players of this company like O’Malley and his social media manager, but as much as they are disliked by many, I realise my particular brand of antics are normally one of the mainstays of a Sin City Wrestling show. After Blast from the Past, that all changed for me just a little bit. Yes, it’s temporary, and yes, I felt it was necessary. With my recent record, and the level of success I’ve achieved doing it my way lately, I think it’s fair that I be given the chance to take this opportunity the way I see fit.

The Dragon: I say that because I've been in a similar situation before. You know, when you face your opponent before you actually face your opponent. Since winning the tournament, Ben Jordan and I have been in a ring together three separate times, and it reminds me of a time in my past. Galveston Island Wrestling, 2016. Alioth Starre, longest running Undisputed champion in the history of that company. The company, in their infinite wisdom, had us match up against each other TWICE in the month leading up to our big showdown, one on one. We went 1-1, we threw everything at each other and since the guy was practically untouchable for a time in singles competition, I could take that W in a non-title match and be supremely happy with myself. We were both excellent competitors, we gave it our all on every occasion. By the time we got there, the big finale? Neither of us really had anything left, we’d thrown the proverbial kitchen sinks at each other, everything that needed to be said had already come out. It didn't raise the roof, and I didn't capture that title. I see the same pattern emerging, and while Ben has been watching me, up close and personal, I’ve had the exact same opportunities as he has too. The difference is, my lips have been sealed, and I’m saving it all up for right now. So here we go - The full and complete dissection of the Cockney King. Thank you in advance for coming to my TED talk.

Mark stops his casual pacing, stopping dead in his tracks and turning to face the camera square on.

The Dragon: Now they say behind every good man is a good woman...in Ben’s case - It’s Evie. Coincidently, one of the reasons I’m in this match in the first place, thanks for the assist by the way, but I think I can take it from here, partner. Now just like it was Ben that pushed Evie to enter Blast from the Past, like something out of the Goblet of Fire, it was Evie that nudged him into going all out in Sin City Wrestling. Really going for it, like winning the whole thing. Over the past five years, the two of them have done a pretty good job of being each other’s cheerleaders, impressive stuff, gotta love seeing a relationship that works...Have you ever seen one of those questions though, like when was the last time you saw person X and person Y in the same room? Well when was the last time Ben and Evie were both on top at the same time? Over the past year, while Ben has been putting together one of his best runs, where was Evie? Out of the ring. Working on other projects. Where was Ben when Evie was making her big splashes, winning the Triple Crown, or Blast from the Past? Well, not making a run for the Heavyweight title, that’s one thing. Taking a step back in his own career to help further hers See the thing is, when one of them goes big, the other one goes home, to be the parachute, the safety net. They absorb some of the pressure so the other doesn’t have to. Again, as I say, that’s the perfect, balanced partnership, hashtag goals. You have to wonder how the wheels could ever come off the vehicle...but let’s think about what happens when they both get to sit on the throne at the same time. When they already have enough of their own problems to deal with, can they still be there for each other, or will their dance card be filled up with, for lack of a better phrase, their own shit to deal with?

Mark lightly clears his throat.

The Dragon: I've heard plenty of superlatives spoken when it comes to Evie, how she approaches the big matches, how she makes a good show for the cameras, even though she clearly hates it. She admits to us that she hates it too, but she goes for the jaguar, air play to her, and that’s what sells tickets right? Of course I've seen some of this first-hand in the Blast from the Past tournament and let me tell you, as effective as onlookers think it may be, it wouldn’t be pretty if it became a drinking game. Every swear word. Drink. Every time Ben appears, gets talked about, mentioned, thought about, or has some kind of other input I haven’t thought of yet - Drink. By the time she gets to talking about the damn match, we'd all be plastered. They're a great couple of course, there’s hope for all of us, but you just start to get the impression that you can’t have one without the other anymore.

He takes a perch on the edge of the bed, lowering his voice a little.

The Dragon: Now we’ve talked about this a few times - I've been married. I was married twice as long as they have been in fact. We were both career driven people, for me in football, then in wrestling, Amanda in dance. I don't know if it's because our sports never crossed paths or what, but I did me and she did her. We would catch each other's shows when we could, join each other on the road when schedules allowed, but it was always put yourself first, and with that, it was always our own responsibility to look after ourselves psychologically. It sounds a little cold...in fact it is a little cold, but for two people at the tops of their respective games, it was how we had to be. We had to handle our own, because adding the other’s into the mix would just be too much to handle. Amanda isn’t here, right? She left, right? Yes she did, feel free to use that against me all you want but here’s the difference between Ben and I. How did Amanda leaving affect me emotionally? Well...it sure sucked for a while. How did it affect my wrestling? It didn’t. She played no part in whether I won, or whether I lost. In fact, it probably helped. Lighting it up here gave me a nice distraction. I protected myself from what I think is coming for them. I feel like the rug is about to get pulled, from under Ben, or under Evie, it doesn't matter, and for a relationship that's already volatile, just how is that latest development going to go down? At a time when they need each other the most, where the toppest of top prizes is on the line, bye bye safety net. Not good. Now I don't need it to all fall apart. In fact, I don't want it to, what better way to devalue the victory...but the Jordans work better when one of them plays second fiddle, it doesn’t matter who, that’s just how it has to be. They’re two results away from that being a reality, and I want that to just be in the back of their minds with the big matches just around the corner.

Mark pushes himself back to his feet, pacing again, bringing his voice back up to a more vibrant, higher energy tone.

The Dragon: Of course there is much riding on Into the Void, much at stake. Evie herself, pushed into Blast from the Past, thinking of just throwing in the towel right away, and by chance she gets a partner with all the skill to help get her over the line in the Final. Let's not forget she didn't want to be here, and let's not forget that she is largely because of Ben. He lit the blue touch paper, and it was me and her that brought it home. Ben has a lot of responsibility to take for all of this, the whole sequence of events. Our match, and of Evie’s. He did what he thought was best for her, and he has a lot to answer for if it blows up in her face. The fact that we won’t find out if that happens or not until after our match isn’t lost on me, and I’m sure that added pressure, too, weighs in some small way on my opponent. Rather him than me, that’s for sure.

Mark stretches out his shoulders for a moment as he runs through his next lines in his head.

The Dragon: Ben is going to tell us how much this title means to him, how nobody is going to wrestle it away from him. I get that, of course, but it’s nothing new. It makes a good headline, but it’s nothing special, nothing remarkable. As champion, there will be very few prouder achievements, especially in a company that has been part of your life for such an extended period. Nobody is going to expect anything less than your best in every title match, it’s almost like you don’t have to say it. Everyone wants your spot. Some more than others, and some more publically, but competitors in a combat sport? We all dream of being in the top spot. When that is on the table, games get raised, and if you want to stick up there you'll have to raise your own bar. One day someone will come along that has worked hard enough, made those improvements, and since December 2019 we have to ask, how much has Ben been progressing?

Moving to the edge of shot for a moment, Mark grabs himself a can of beer, which he cracks open and takes a sip from.

The Dragon: Alcohol is not conducive to peak sporting performance, unless it’s Drunken Boxing, and it’s Fenris and Jake Raab who are doing that MMA bullshit this show, so it’s definitely not helping in this instance. Empty calories, decreased liver function, reduced immune response, you name it. I tend not to believe the saying that you can't out train a bad diet though. I think that depends on how bad the diet, and how much free time you have to train. Getting plastered a few times a week, while you're a full-time professional sportsman, in lockdown, with very little else to do other than hit the gym, you can absolutely turn that kind of thing around and keep yourself to a good level. The drinking will pretty much cancel out the next day of training that you do. My question...why bother? Why spend so long playing catch-up each week to try and beat the curve, when you could just as easily stay ahead of it. Why put in three or four sessions per week that puts you further ahead than you were before while your opponent is notching up seven? Dangerous game to play.

After his one sip, Mark returns the can out of shot.

The Dragon: I mean look, I get it. I love my beer, I appreciate a good whiskey, and once in a while I'll let my hair down and go all-out when it’s party time, but that's occasionally, not the norm. That’s once a month level shit. That’s the kind of thing you reserve for the biggest of big title wins, for example. I come across so many people in all walks of life that drink daily. It's just a glass of wine, or a G&T, something to take the edge off. Nothing wrong with that, in fact, for their mental health it's probably good for them...and that one drink a day, in the grand scheme? No it's not bad for them...but these are quote unquote normal people. Desk jockeys, agents, ring techs, producers, cashiers, waiters and waitresses. Their financial situation and their success in their job doesn't hinge on fine margins, physical capabilities, one rep maxes, you name it, like ours do. I don’t live in denial, I'm going to enjoy retirement, when the time is right. I'll take up golf, play the best courses, work my way through the beer menu, eat the best steak, the best lobster, the best shrimp. My waistband will grow, my work ethic will shrink, and I can look back on it all and say that I earned it, and I have no regrets. Until then I stick to the grind, not letting up, and push on until the fire for this brutality we call a job burns to embers. It feels like my opponent wants to live the best of both worlds, have his cake and eat it, and he's playing a tactical game that’s worked well up to this point.

Mark counts the names off with his fingers.

The Dragon: Jake Raab, O’Malley, Javi Gonzalez, anyone who climbs the apples and pears, puts their two plates of meat in the ring and asks for a shot gets one! Yaaaaay! Admirable stuff from the champ, opening the doors to anyone and everyone, budget brand or otherwise, equal opportunities and you know what happens? Devaluing. Laziness. Malaise. Why? Because wrestlers have a habit of bringing alpha male tendencies even if they're producing C-list results. They can't see past the very real truth that they're not good enough to beat Ben Jordan. They're not good enough to beat me either, they’ve all tried actually, they’ve all failed, but this is what’s different between them and I. I'm here by virtue of winning a tournament, not because I asked nicely. I wouldn’t have it any way other than earning it on merit. The opponent has just taken a big step up in class, and it’ll be Ben’s firmest test since he put that belt on his shoulder. It’s finely poised.

Mark glances at his watch, as if to simulate the timer at a real TED talk to keep you on track with your slot.

The Dragon: With Ben we often have to ask the question of just how seriously he is taking this don't we? The party man, the court jester, the first to make it to the bar and the last to leave I can’t wait to see what tricks he has up his sleeve with every go-around, as he throws on cruise control to put away another meagre opponent while having a little fun along the way. There are some predictable things. Ben, Evie and their dog will feature heavily together. Excessively together. Ben will talk about why I’m good, pay me the compliments that my success in my time here, but he’s better, and not really elaborate too much as to why. We want specifics, we don’t get them. He’ll draft in some of the roster to make light of the whole situation, and as someone who isn’t adverse to marching a horn section through a backstage area, I have to say I respect that...but as many of you have noticed, I’ve chosen to clean up my act for this one.

Once again he clears his throat.

The Dragon: ...and watch how good the copy turns out to be if the title changes hands. Mark Cross disappears to work hard on his game while Ben Jordan plans elaborate comedy sketch and loses. Who was wrong after all eh, O'Malley? Yet another Sin City main roster guy who underestimates The Dragon and look who did it? Our very own esteemed champion, well isn't that a disappointment. Or maybe, just maybe, the guy who begins to unify the divisions can perhaps rule the roost with MORE integrity. With LESS comedy sketches, and with NO challenges open to anyone that does not prove on recent form that they have a chance of getting the win. I was a dangerous prospect before Blast from the Past. I was the man to watch on the Hotwire, destined to become World Heavyweight champion in 2020. Choose not to treat me as such? Well then that, quite honestly is your funeral, and I can’t wait to take away what you believe is rightfully yours.

He checks his watch once again.

The Dragon: We’re coming to the end of our time here, so it’s time to pull this all together. Now on balance...is Ben Jordan a good World Heavyweight champion? Yes, of course he is, and it wouldn’t be that bright of me to suggest otherwise. As for memorable? Ehhhh...not so much. When 50 percent of your defences come against guys that, for one reason or another, aren’t deemed worthy of an exclusive position on the main brand, you have to ask questions about how much of a legacy that leaves. When another is against a champion, sure, but a couple of rungs lower on the title hierarchy, a specialist in gimmick matches, it classes as another swerve to me. When you’re not testing yourself at every opportunity, just how ready ARE you to face all comers? A victory against Fenris, Man of the Year for 2019? Well that’s a good result...but that was four months ago. I’ve certainly improved since then. Has Ben?
You will probably be asking, if you haven’t already, what makes me think I’m the more worthy? Well that deserves a part of its own, so you’re going to have to wait until next week for that one. We’ve had good, how about we upgrade to great? We’ve had generous, how about we try making the brightest stars earn their chance? We’ve had holds your shoulders down, maybe it’s time for pins you down and cuts your throat while you struggle. Maybe the division needs some fresh impetus. Thanks again for sticking with me, and let’s do this all again in a week! Bye guys.

With a telling nod to the camera, The Dragon walks towards it, expecting to disappear out of shot. On the way past, we hear a rustling of clothing as he brushes past it a little, sending the tripod tumbling backwards and landing with a thud. We are treated to a lovely shot of the hotel ceiling.

The Dragon: Dammit!! I hope I didn’t lose that footage...

[Ben Jordan]

 The camera opens with myself and Evie Jordan, the two sitting on a sofa. I turn my head and look towards Evie.

"You know something babe?" I say with a smile.

"What's that?" Evie replies as she raises an eyebrow at me.

"It's been like six months since I last did a parody." I say, keeping that smile on my face. "I was gonna do that Arrowverse one but that felt a bit silly considering. So I think I'm gonna do one."

Evie looks at me, her eyebrows lowered towards me.

"No big build up?" She asks. "No falling asleep watching something to kick it off?"

"Nah." I reply with a serious look on my face. "No need to fanny about."

Evie crosses her arms across her chest and looks at me sternly.

"You did this whole thing backwards and run out of space, didn't ya?" She says with a stern look.

I couldn't lie to her, that's exactly what happened, so I nodded my head and with a quick click of my fingers, let the funny stuff begin!



In 2020, a cracked in the head Englishman roped people in to a mad idea,
The men in white coats promptly arrived,
But these people promptly escaped to somewhere in The Saxon Hotel,
Still wanted by the men in white coats, they survive as liberators of championship belts.
If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire...
the A-Team..... And friends!

You know the theme song is going through your head right now, so I'll give ya about a minute to catch up.

The scene opens with a shot of SCU Headquarters, shot through a pair of binoculars. The binoculars look towards the main entrance and to the right where two golf carts of security personal sit.

"What do you think, EJ..." the man behind the binoculars asks.

The camera moves out to see Ben chomping on a cigar and looking towards Evie.

"EJ?" She questions.

She looks down at her chest to see chain after chain of gold wrapped around her neck. Her hand moves up to the side of her head to feel feathers hanging from her ear.

"You made me BA?" She says surprised. "So you must be Hannibal?"

"Hannibal Ben Smith to be exact" He says with a smile. "And cause you're bad arse. So what do you see?"

EJ looks through the binoculars, taking note of the golf carts moving around.

"Mobile patrols." EJ says. "Moving very, very slow. I think a gang of teens could take them out and save us the trouble."

"What about you Face Woman?" Hannibal asks. "What can you see?"

He turns the other way to see Samantha Marlowe standing there looking through the binoculars towards the front door. She looks back at Hannibal and EJ.

"Throw security guards at a desk." She says with her southern tone. "The front door looks like it stays locked, would need buzzing in to that."

Hannibal looks at the building.

"No roof access?" He asks. "Cause I know a guy with parachutes going cheap."

"Probably not the thing you wanna cheap out on." Face Woman says with a half smile.

"And I ain't jumping on no roof!" EJ quickly adds. "What about air vents?"

"That's possible." Hannibal says. "We can get someone in the air vents, but we still don't know what we're walking in to there. I think we need more people, people with a very certain skill set."

"Gonna call Liam Neeson?" Face Woman asks with a smile.

"Nah, I'm still waiting for him to hunt me down and find me after I picked up his jacket by mistake." Hannibal says with a smile. "I think we might need air support."

EJ snaps her head towards Hannibal and looks at him through narrow eyes.

"Not that crazy fool!" EJ says through gritted teeth.

"He's the best in the business, EJ." Hannibal says. "But I think we'll need more than that. I think we'll need someone good at climbing through vents, someone who is over the top reckless who will shoot people in the face with giant things from two feet away, some people to distract those guys at the front, and maybe someone who knows that building inside out."

"Where do we get those people from?" Face Woman asks.

"I'll come up with something." Hannibal says.

He slides his hand in to his pocket and pulls out his phone, using his thumb to unlock it and taps the Twitter app. He types a few words quickly and hits send. He looks from EJ, to Face Woman.

"Sorted!" Hannibal says proudly "I'm sure we'll get loads of responses soon. I'm popular and respected you know, but we very much need to get the other stuff. So Face Woman, you go pick up the air support."

Face Woman nods her head and Hannibal turns to EJ.

"And we need weapons. Lots and lots of weapons." Hannibal tells her. "So many weapons, but probably need to make them paintball guns, cause you know they ain't gonna let us show this if we're using real guns. Killing people for real is against the rules and I don't fancy losing points for this after working all day on it...."

Hannibal looks at the camera and gives a thumbs up.

"You got it." EJ replies.

"We'll meet back in a little while at the secret hideout thingy while I try and get some people." Hannibal tells them.

"Where's that then?" Face Woman asks.

Hannibal turns and points behind him to a building maybe twenty feet away from the three.

"Right there." He says with a grin.

Both Face Woman and EJ Barracas nod their heads at Hannibal, as we cut to a commercial break.... Or fast forward.



The camera switches to a room with circle of chairs, where people sit and await. The camera focuses in on Hannibal Ben Smith, or Ben Jordan as you know him. EJ Barracas, or Jordan as you know her, sits next to him, running her hand down the huge amount of gold chains around her neck.

"At least there is one good thing to being this character." She says as she looks at the gold.

A door from the corner opens, and Sam Marlowe, or Face Woman as she is in this walks across the wooden floorboards.

"Did you get him?" Hannibal asks.

"It wasn't easy but I got him." She replies as she takes a seat. "But he brought a friend."

"Real or invisible?" EJ asks.

"Kinda neither." Face Woman replies.

Despayre... or Burdoch as he's now known, bursts through the door, holding Angel in his hands.

"HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" He yells out.

"Ugh!" EJ growls. "Not this crazy fool!"

Burdoch charges towards EJ and jumps on EJ's lap, rubbing her head.

"Didn't you have a Mohawk at one point?" He says.

EJ drops Burdoch on to the floor and he shuffles himself to a nearby seat and pulls himself up and points towards Hannibal, who stands up.

"Thank you all for hearing my call and joining us here today." Hannibal says. "Today we have a very special mission."

"Where did he get all these people?" Face Woman asks

"Twitter." EJ replies across Hannibal's empty seat.

"Today, we have a chance to do something special." Hannibal says as he looks around the crowd. "We need to do something that's needed to be done for a long time. We are all good guys, and there's a whole bunch of people that need saving and a championship belt that needs liberating. I'm talking about the good people of Sin City Underground and The Underground championship. Before I get to the plan, let me introduce you to everyone. Now you know me, I'm Colonel Hannibal Ben Smith."

Hannibal looks to his right to Evie, every dressed in combat pants, a red shirt, with gold chains around her neck, and feathers hanging from her ears.

"This is EJ Barracas." Hannibal says. "EJ by name, bad arse by nature."

Ben turns to Sam Marlowe and points to her, dressed impeccably in a business suit, with matching skirt and white blouse.

"This is Face Woman." He says. "Using those charms and good looks to get us what we need."

Hannibal turns his attention to Despayre, who waves at him. Despayre is wearing grey pants, a black shirt, a beige bomber jacket and baseball cap.

"This is Burdoch." Hannibal says with a point of fingers. "Our air support."

"And a crazy fool." EJ adds.

"There wasn't someone called Burdoch in the A-Team." Burdoch says scratching his head. "There was a Murdo..."

"Shush." Hannibal says. "We need to keep real names quiet or people will be hitting me with all kinds of requests for royalties. Who's your little friend Burdoch."

Burdoch raises Angel, Despayre's trusted teddy bear, in his hands.

"This is Assassin Angel." Burdoch says with a big grin. "He's a sneaky little bear, can sneak in to all the places we can't."

"Good." Hannibal says as he turns to face Amber Ryan. Amber wearing blue jeans and a white tank top. "This is Joan McClane, she's pretty damn good at picking people off from random places."

"And shooting people." She quickly adds.

"Which will certainly help on this mission." Hannibal says with a smile.

He turns to Mercedes Vargas, dressed in baggy green camouflage pants, a black sleeveless shirt, with a red ammo holder sash and matching red headband.

"June Rambo everyone." Hannibal says with grin. "Explosive expert, nothing this woman can't blow up."

June gives him a nod as he turns towards Fenris and Aron, both dressed in faded blue jeans and plaid shirts.

"Who the fuck are we meant to be?" Fenris asks in his gruff voice.

"Well you're Joe Duke and Aron is Juke Duke." Hannibal says as he looks around the others.

"Who the fuck are they?" Fenris barks. "We look like a couple of farmers."

"The Dukes, you know, the show from years ago, drive real fast, lead people on chases." Aron tells Fenris. "Used to hang around with their cousin Daisy.... Hey! Do we have a Daisy?"

Juke looks at Hannibal with hopeful eyes, but Hannibal takes a cigar and puts it between his lips and shakes his head.

"Sorry kid." Hannibal replies. "No one else wanted in on this thing from the SCW side. Ladies and Gentlemen, Joe and Juke Duke, our high speed chase distractions for the mission."

Burdoch raises his hand, and Hannibal quickly looks towards him.

"Yes, Burdoch?" Hannibal says as he points towards him.

"Not to question your leadership Colonel, but should he really be here? He could be a spy." Burdoch says as he points to the man at the end of the line.

O'Malley, dressed in grey combat camouflage, looks across the room at Burdoch.

"You mean G.I Mo?" Hannibal asks.

"Yeah, Gimo" Burdoch says. "He works for SCU, he could be telling them everything about your plan."

"I couldn't give a shiny shite about SCU while Mark Cross holds that belt captive." G.I Mo yells across the room. "And if I get the chance today, I'd love to give the fella a slap."

"He's gonna be a good extra gun Burdoch." Hannibal says.

"I think I should keep an eye on him." Burdoch says as he wags his finger at G.I Mo.

"By all means." Hannibal says as he points at G.I Mo.

Burdoch springs from his seat and moves towards him, pulling out a magnifying glass in his pocket and holding it up in between himself and G.I Mo.

"So, we are gonna liberate that championship belt." Hannibal says as his eyes look around the crowd. "We don't know just what is behind those doors, we don't know how many people they have there. I have a plan to get us in, but we need to stay as a group when we get in there to see what's awaiting for us. If anyone doesn't have the stones for this, feel free to leave."

Hannibal looks around the chairs to see no one leaving the room. He smiles and nods.

"This is a great plan." He says with a bright smile and excitement in his voice. "We're going right through the front door."

"Ugh, Hannibal's on the jazz again." EJ Barracas says as she groans.

"You never know EJ...." He replies. "I love me some jazz! Now here's the plan..."

And now we fast forward a bit.... Or go to a commercial break, whatever ya fancy..... But whatever you chose the last time after scene one, do the opposite this time! Go on, keep it fresh!



"Ok, everyone ready?" Hannibal Ben says as his hand touches an earpiece

The screen splits in to four parts to show Joe and Juke Duke, Burdoch, Face Woman and Joan McClane in different locations.

"Ready!" They all say almost in sync.

"All your Duke boys." Hannibal says.

The square of Joe and Juke, aka Fenris and Aron zoom forward and the rest fade out and Joe, behind the driving wheel looks towards Juke.

"I can't believe we;re doing this shit." He huffs

Juke smiles at his driving partner and the camera zooms out to show the two sitting in the General Lee, the car made famous by The Dukes Of Hazzard. The engine roars loudly in the car park outside SCU Headquarters. Smoke spins from the tires as the car starts to spin around, doing donuts in the car park. A square appears at the top, showing security guards sitting in two golf carts.

"What the hell is that?" One says loudly.

The golf carts speed off and their square fades out, showing them appearing close to those Duke Boys car.

"Get ready...." Juke says to Joe.

The golf carts get closer to the General Lee and the car stops as Joe looks through the window.

"Hey, rent a cops!" Joe shouts out the window. "Golf carts? They gave you shit your grannies can drive... Embarrassing!"

Anger crosses the faces of the four security guards in the two golf carts.

"Hey! My granny loaned me this golf cart!" One shouts back.

Joe hits the accelerator and starts to drive around the golf carts and take off, quickly taking off with the golf carts in pursuit of the two men.

"YEEEEEEEEEHAW!" Juke yells out as Joe just shakes his head.

The two speed off, at a pace allowing the golf carts to chase at comfortable distance. They head towards a ramp.

"Why the fuck did Ben want us the use the ramp?" Joe questions.

"Hannibal Ben." Juke corrects him. "And because if it works, the golf carts will crash and they'll not have the sense to walk back."

The General Lee flies over the ramp, but the video pauses with the car in the air.

"Now what them Duke boys didn't know." A southern narrated voice says. "Is that Ben rewrote the script to put a river there at the last second cause he thought it would be cool."

The General Lee flies over the river and lands hard on the other side and spins around to stop as the golf carts follow and crash in to the river. Joe and Juke smile and drive away.

"Mission accomplished Hannibal." Juke says as the camera cuts back to Hannibal Ben.

"Joan, are you ready?" Hannibal asks.

The screen splits to show Amber, seemingly in a tight space.

"Ready." She says as she crawls.

"You're up Face Woman." Hannibal tells Sam Marlowe.

Face Woman stands outside the main entrance to the building and buzzes a buzzer on the door, two security guards sit behind the desk, looking through the window as she pouts her lips. With an excited look on her face, they quickly buzz her through the door. She walks in looking at them.

"Hi guys." She says in her sweetest tone, pressing her chest out in front of her. "My car broke down outside and my phone battery died, can I use your phone?"

She dramatically flutters her eyelashes at both men, her most seductive smile on her face and the two men fight to give her the phone. She looks up at an air vent to their side, seeing a finger move between the gap.

"Well aren't you two sweet?" Face Woman says with a smile.

She reaches across the desk and wraps her arms around both men with a hug, covering their ears as the air vent crashes to the ground, unknown to the guards. The screen splits to where Ben is seen smirking at EJ Barracas aka Evie.

"Wouldn't believe it, I came up with that at the last minute." He says with the smirk growing.

"Yeah I would." She replies.

Face Woman looks towards Joan McClane as she slides out of the air vent and drops to the floor. Face Woman lets the guards go, who look at each other with wide smiles and Joan grabs both men by the head and smacks them together, both slumping to the floor.

"Yippee kiy-yay motherfucker!" She screams out.

"Done." Face Woman says through the coms.

The camera splits with Hannibal Ben and EJ sitting in a van of some sort.

"Floor it EJ!" Ben commands

Tires squeal as a wide shot of the main entrance can be seen and a black van with a red stripe down the side pulls to a holt outside. The backdoor opens and June Rambo aka Mercedes Vargas, and G.I Mo aka O Malley, jump out of the back, with Hannibal Ben jumping out of the passenger seat and EJ Barracas jumping out of the drivers seat, each carrying big paintball guns. The four make their way to the door and Joan buzzes them in. The four make their way in to the lobby, Hannibal nodding at Face Woman.

"Nice work Face Woman." Hannibal says with a salute.

He turns his head toward Joan.

"I thought you just liked to shoot people." He says with an arches eyebrow.

"I like to mix it up." She says with a slight shrug of her shoulder. "Sometime I like to shoot people, other times, just happy to break their heads."

Hannibal Ben nods in agreement.

"Right, thanks to G.I Mo, we know the championship is on the second level but we don't know what stands in between us and there." Hannibal says.

"That's cause he's a spy." Burdoch's voice says over the coms.

"Eh, piss off." G.I Mo replies.

"Swear jar!" comes the response down the earpiece.

"It could be anything at all." Hannibal Ben tells the team "So be ready.

June Rambo raises her finger as she looks down the corridor.

"I hear something." She says in a hushed voice.

The team look towards where she points and all raise their paintball guns in that direction. Someone walks around the corner and a round of shots fire from the team, in to the person.

"What the actual fuck!" Alexis Staggs can be heard saying.

She looks down at her white shirt, now covered in multi coloured paint from the rounds discharged from the group. Hannibal Ben steps forward.

"Seriously Ben." She says with a growl to her tone. "What the fuck?"

Hannibal scratches his head as he puts a cigar in between his teeth and chews down, before lighting it.

"We're doing a parody." He explains and you got right in the way.

"I don't wanna be in ya damn parody!" Alexis bites back.

"Too late now." He replies as he points at the camera. "But don't worry, I'll give ya an acting credit at the end."

Alexis stomps her feet and turns around and storms off, cursing under her breath. Ben turns to the team and looks at them.

"Be honest, you all knew that was Alexis and fired anyway, didn't ya?" Hannibal says as he looks around the group.

The group look away from Ben, but smiles cover their faces.

"Wasn't just me then." Ben says with a grin. "Right, onward!"

The group advance as Hannibal drops to the back, turning around to cover the rear but a shot hits him in the rear, causing him to jump! He turns to see EJ Barracas standing behind him.

"What was that for?" He asks.

"My finger slipped." She replies with a smile.

"What was that really for?" He asks much more firmly.

"For not taking the trash out the other day when we were back home." She replies with a wide smile.

Hannibal shakes his head slowly.

"We can do this later." Ben says as he removes his cigar from his lips. "But I will shoot at ya too."

EJ looks at Hannibal and winks.

"Promises, promises." She says biting her lip. "Promising me a good time again."

Hannibal raises his finger at her, his mouth open to speak, but can't think of the words to say.

"I didn't mean it like..." He stumbles out. "We'll do this later."

He runs to catch up with the others, to see them frozen in place.

"What I miss?" Hannibal says in a curious tone, only to have the group point in the direction.

He slowly turns his head to look in the direction the fingers point to, to see a horde of zombies standing in their way, walking from side to side.

"Ah, who write this rubbish?" Hannibal asks with a roll of his eyes.

The fingers turns from the horde of zombies, to point directly at him, causing another eye roll from him.

"Alright, alright." He says conceding defeat. "Social distance here people."

The zombies stop and look around at each other.

"Does bring up a valid point." Hannibal says to himself as he taps his chin. "I mean if this is the new normal, where people need to stay away from each other, how are they gonna make zombies in The Walking Dead social distance from each other. I mean does the world really need corona zombies?"

Before anyone else can say anything, June Rambo steps in front of the crowd and the camera focuses on her as she fires off round after round of paintballs towards the horde, screaming at the top of her voice, hundreds of paintballs flying out of her gun at a fast speed. She reaches on to her chest and rips a hand grenade off, ripping the pin out of it with her teeth and throwing it in to the crowd. An explosion is heard off camera as the group duck. Face Woman puts her hand on June's shoulder.

"I think you got 'em Rambo." She says, snapping June out of her trance.

The camera spins around to see the zombies on the floor, covered in paint and not moving, excess paint splattered up the walls. Hannibal steps next to Rambo and looks at her.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn Mercy!" He says with his jaw dropped. "That was awesome! Anyone know how to say that was awesome in Spanish?"

He looks around the group to see everyone look at each other, but Rambo raises her hand slowly.

"Can you tell yourself in Spanish, that was freaking awesome!" He asks her.

Hannibal puts his hand up and Rambo fist bumps her.

"You know." G.I Mo says, catching the groups attention. "The stairs to go up are in the other direction?"

He points to a door behind him, then upwards, causing the group to look around each other.

"Yeah, but if we went straight up the stairs." Hannibal starts. "Then we wouldn't have had a cool scene with zombies, cause I don't think zombies can climb up stairs, and if they did, we'd have been waiting for hours."

G.I Mo walks to door and opens it, pointing upwards and the group nod and walk towards him, each walking through the stairs and upwards. The camera switches to the top of the stairs where Hannibal Ben can be seen looking around the corner of the next landing, seeing no one, he steps through, paintball gun raised. The group slowly walk through the door and look around.

"This is too quiet." EJ Barracas says slowly.

"SPLASH!" The sound comes through the coms.

"The bloody hell was that?" Hannibal says confused.

"Some genius tried to drive the car back through the river." Juke's voice can be heard saying down the coms.

"Well, it looked fucking shallow!" Joe's voice can be heard arguing.

"So you knackered the car?" Hannibal quickly asks.

"He did that to the car." Juke informs the leader.

"Oh fuck off." Joe's voice can be heard saying.

"You're next big scene is meant to come up here." Hannibal tells them. "You're meant to come crashing through the window in the General Lee, and spin around the corner and stop right behind us, climb out the window and look all cool."

"And how was we meant to do that when you're on the second floor?" Joe asks in an angry tone.

"You're the Duke boys." Hannibal tells them. "You could land that car on the wing of a plane thirty thousand feet in the air if there was a big enough ramp to do it."

Hannibal sighs as he looks around the group.

"Take five everyone, while The Dukes get up the stairs." Hannibal Ben tells the group as he looks around them.

The group break character to relax for a few seconds, but the voice of an SCU star can be heard.

"Hi guys!" Ariana Angelos says as she pushes a refreshment cart down the hall. "I heard you guys were doing something here today and thought I'd bring you refreshments."

Ariana reaches for the cart and lifts off a plate of cookies. She hands the plate around to everyone, each person taking a cookie and holding them up.

"Cheers." Ben says with a nod.

"You're welcome, I made them myself." She says proudly.

Everyone holds the cookies just in front of their faces, stopping after hearing Ariana made them herself.

"Maybe we shouldn't." Ben tells the group. "We still have a lot of filming to do and need to stay in shape a bit here. Don't wanna get a cramp or anything after eating cookies."

Fenris and Aron finally catch up, walking through the door at the top of the stairs. Ariana holds the plate of cookies out towards Fenris.

"Cookie?" She asks.

"Did you make them?" He quickly replies.

"I did." She responds.

"No." Fenris says bluntly as he shakes her head and just breezes past Ariana.

Aron smiles and shrugs towards Ariana, a sympathetic look on his face. Ben looks towards Fenris.

"Ere, you didn't fall in the river did ya?" Ben asks Fenris, clearly setting him up for something.

"No." Fenris replies, feeling this might be leading to somewhere. "Why?"

"With lips like that, you'd have been the envy of the river." Ben says with a cheeky smile.

Fenris clinches his fist and waves it at Ben who smiles, but the sounds of thumping can be heard in the distance.

"Looks like we're back in character people!" Ben says. "And.... ACTION!"

"What the hell is that?" Joan McClane says out loud.

"Knowing him." Joe Duke replies. "It could be anything."

The thumps get louder and louder as they get closer. A huge shadow casts itself on the wall and something turns around the corner. The crowd turn and look at Ben.

"The Marshmallow Man?" They all say in unison.

"Who ya gonna call?" Hannibal says sheepishly.

"I swear fool." EJ says as she shakes her head. "If you say Ghostbusters...."

Hannibal looks at her and shakes his head.

"Air support!" He says with a grin.

The screen splits to see a helicopter flying alongside a mountain, spinning the right to see it cruising over water. The screen splits in to three to see the inside of the helicopter, to see what looks like a miniature figure of Despayre aka Burdoch at the controls. The screen then quarters to see Burdoch sitting with a remote control in his hand. A fifth square covers the center of the screen to see a remote control helicopter slowly flying over the group, very, very slowly, carrying a balloon underneath as the screen goes back to just following the helicopter.

"I don't know why you wouldn't let me have a real helicopter." Burdoch sadly says.

"I couldn't fit it in the building." Hannibal responds.

"Sure, but you could get the Marshmallow man in the building..." He quickly says back.

"How did you get the Marshmallow Man in the building?" Face Woman asks.

"Through the cargo bay." Hannibal whispers back "Then shoe horning it though doors. He fell down the stairs four times. Second thought, shouldn't have made him put on the costume downstairs."

The helicopter flies over the Marshmallow Man, hovering over the top.

"Bombs away!" Burdoch says through the coms.

The water balloon drops and lands on the Marshmallow man's head, the big white marshmallow's face changing from a wide smile, to a sad face as he slowly turns around. Joan looks at her watch.

"Don't worry, he'll get there in a minute." Hannibal says with a yawn.

As he turns around, the group take aim and start firing in to the back of him, most aiming low towards his rear, causing him to speed up. Hannibal looks at EJ.

"He was taking too long." She says as she looks at him.

"Good work Burdoch." Hannibal says as he watches the helicopter fly around the corner chasing the Marshmallow Man. "Feel free to join us when you land that bird, Captain."

Without two seconds passing, Burdoch appears next to Hannibal, holding the remote control in one hand, and Assassin Angel in the other.

"Ok!" He says with a cheery smile. "Hi guys!"

Hannibal jumps, holding his chest as Despayre throws the remote control over his shoulder, causing a crash behind them.

"Bloody hell Despy!" He says breathing hard. "Not gonna be a good ending if the Colonel dies of a heart attack halfway through."

"It would be original." Burdoch says. "The action hero gets shot a lot, bleeds everywhere and doesn't die. What a twist it would be for the hero to be halfway through and have a heart attack."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaand moving on!" Hannibal says as he points forward.

The group edge forward, moving slowly and deliberately. Hannibal holds his hand up as he points at an open door. He sneaks forward to see Krystal Wolfe playing a video game and live streaming.

"Need to make sure she doesn't leave the room and raise the alarm." Hannibal whispers. "Who's up for that?"

The screen cuts to Crystal's live stream.

"You guys are great today." She tells the invisible audience. "You can like and subscribe at the bottom of the screen."

Behind her on the live stream, a pair of furry ears can be seen and the face of the white robed teddy bear Assassin Angel can be seen broadcast to everyone watching, then.... Darkness! The screen flickers to black and a technical problems sign appears on the screen. The camera cuts to the group with Hannibal looking at Burdoch.

"He didn't...?" Hannibal asks.

"I can't say yes, I can't say no." Burdoch replies. "Gee, I can't wait to meet the ninja's next."

"How'd you know about that?" Hannibal asks curiously.

"I read the script." He replies before wandering off.

The lights flash out and flash back on as a group of ninja's appear in front of them.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOHOHOOOOOOW! Did did did did did did deeeer." A voice can be heard singing off camera.

The group turn around to see Alex Rush waving at them all.

"Finally found those ninjas.... Ahem!" He says clearing his throat. "Everybody was kung fu fighting, lalalalalalalala"

As Alex continues to sing, the ninja's charge, only to get caught with the butt of the paintball gun from Joan McClane. The group break off, and the screen splits showing everyone fighting, with Joan Rambo forcing a ninja against the wall and throwing in punches, Joe and Juke Duke ducking spinning kicks before throwing punches of their own. G.I Mo brawling, putting an elbow in the face of a ninja. Face Woman punches a ninja in to Burdoch who punches him to the floor and the two high five. EJ Barracas grabs two ninjas by the neck and throws them over her shoulder, the scene slowing down as the two fly through the air and crash in to the wall. Hannibal ducks a punch from one and catches him with an uppercut. Joan and June ram two ninjas in to each other.

"Fast as lightning, lalalalalalalala" Alex Rush continues.

EJ lifts the paintball gun towards Alex.

"Cobblers!" He says out loud.

Evie fires the paintball at him, catching him in the beard, turning it to blue.

"Bugger! What was that for?" He asks her.

"Look around, the ninjas are down and you kept singing." EJ says. "And I didn't wanna listen to no jibba jabba from some crazy fool!"

EJ looks towards Hannibal and rolls her eyes.

"Really Ben?" She says with a sigh.

"It's a classic line." Hannibal argues back.

Alex rubs his beard and looks down at the blue paint on his fingers.

"Oh man, I'm never gonna get this blue paint out of my beard." He whines to himself. "I got a blue beard! OOOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm gonna go play pirates! I'm gonna go be Long John Silver!"

Alex wanders away and Hannibal looks at Burdoch.

"Kinda worried about Krystal." He whispers. "Think we should go get Assassin Angel?"

Burdoch points up to where the screen drops in half to show Krystal Wolfe.

"Sorry about the technical difficulty guys." She says down the camera. "But were back now and we have a very special guest joining us right now, please welcome Angel!"

The camera moves to Angel with a controller in front of him before the top of the screen fades and the group together.

"He's fine." Burdoch says with a smile.

"Was more worried about her to be honest." Hannibal says with shrug. "How much further to go G.I Mo?"

"Just round that corner." He replies.

Hannibal leads the group to the end of the hallway and looks around the corner. He slowly walks out raising the gun. The group following around the corner and they stand open mouthed at what they see before.

"A giant Mark Cross bobblehead?" June Rambo says with a surprised tone running through her slight accent.

"Well I needed a final boss." Hannibal says to her with a smile. "And thought why not."

Hannibal holds the gun up towards the bobblehead.

"Give it up Cross!" Hannibal shouts out. "Just give up that championship, and nobody needs to get hurt."

"Except the security guards." Face Woman says.

"And the guys in the golf carts." Joe Duke adds.

"Or Krystal Wolfe" Burdoch throws in  

"She wasn't hurt." Hannibal replies.

"Oh, you ain't seen Angel when he plays Mario Kart." Burdoch responds with a grin. "She'll be hurt after it."

"Then there was The Marshmallow Man." Joan McClane reminds Hannibal.

"And The Zombies." June Rambo adds to the list.

"Alexis Staggs." EJ says. "But she deserved it."

"Alex Rush when he got shot in the face.." Juke Duke says as he looks towards EJ.

"And all those ninjas." G.I Mo adds.

"FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!" Hannibal says as he throws his hands in the air. "No one other than the security guards, the guys in the golf carts, Krystal Wolfe, The Marshmallow Man, the zombies, Alexis Staggs, Alex Rush and the ninja. Anyone else?"

"Ariana was probably hurt when Joe here wouldn't take a cookie." He says as he looks at the scowling Joe.

"Fine! All those people and Ariana Angelos too..." Hannibal says with a sigh. "So, are you willing to give up peacefully Cross?"

The bobblehead just sway and Hannibal Ben scratches his head as he looks at the group.

"Is he saying yes? Or no?" He asks them. "I can't tell, that thing is waving around all over the place."

The group look around each other, shrugging and looking confused.

"Ok, group huddle!" Hannibal orders, and the group listen, getting in a huddle. "Right, this is the last boss, so we need a plan. I think we need a plane."

"I ain't getting on no plane!" EJ says, but rolls her eyes. "You said that just to make me say that, didn't you?"

"Absolutely!" Hannibal says with a grin. "Here's what we do, Duke boys, yell YEEEEHAAAAW as a distraction, McClane, back in the air vent, Rambo, use oversized paintballs from three feet away, Face Woman, you flirt a bit, EJ, you kick open random doors, Burdoch, you look for your imaginary dog Willie, and G.I... Wait, where the hell is G.I Mo?"

Behind them, you hear the sounds of the sound of boot on body, quickly followed by oohs and awws. The group look up to see G.I Mo with Bobblehead Cross on the floor, kicking him in the ribs. G.I Mo puts his boot on the rear of the bobblehead and kicks him away.

"Yeah, crawl away ya little shite!" G.I Mo says as he flips him the bird and turns back to look at the group.

"Or, we can just do that." Hannibal says with his palms up.

"I told ya I wasn't a spy and I didn't like that guy." G.I Mo says looking around the group. "So while you were pissing around with whatever you was doing, I just decided to kick the shite outta him. Belts behind that door."

G.I Mo points at the door nearby and the camera switches to inside the room. The door flies open with EJ Barracas coming in to view after kicking the door through. The camera spins around to see the SCU Underground championship on a podium, shining in the light. Hannibal Ben moves in to the room and looks at the championship belt. He lifts it in the air and steps over of the room, holding it up in front of the crowd.

"The SCU Underground championship is ours!" He says proudly. "The champions and Sin City Underground are now liberated by the good people of Sin City Wrestling!"

Before the group can celebrate, the building starts to shake and a boulder drops from the sky and starts to roll towards them. The group look horrified, frozen to the spot as it moves towards them but Burdoch bats it away and down the hall in the direction Bobblehead Cross crawled.

"God DAMMIT!" Bobblehead Cross can be heard saying off camera.

"Oops." Burdoch says with a grin, but the group look at him in amazing. "What? It was plastic? Who was gonna put a real boulder up there? Could you imagine carrying a real one up the stairs and hang it from a roof?"

The group start to laugh as Hannibal Ben relights the cigar.

"I love it when a plan comes together...." Hannibal Ben says with a grin.

Duh duh duh duuuuuh duh!

As the theme song plays, the credits roll.

<body>
     <marquee direction = "up" scrollamount = "2">Ben Jordan as Hannibal Ben Smith
Evie Jordan as EJ Barracas
Samantha Marlowe as Face Woman.
Despayre as Burdoch
Amber Ryan as Joan McClane
Mercedes Vargas as June Rambo
Fenris as Joe Duke
Aron Baltassarson as Juke Duke
Angel as Assassin Angel
O'Malley as G.I Mo
Alexis Staggs as Girl who got shot in the boobs.
Ariana Angelos as Bad cookie lady.
Krystal Wolfe as Gamer girl, who also lost to Assassin Angel at Mario Kart in a deleted scene
Alex Rush as Kung Fu Fighting lalalalalalalala singer.
Anyone else I could rope in as Security guards/Zombies/Ninjas/Marshmallow Man/Bobblehead Cross

*No animals was hurt in the filming of this, although The General Lee is waterlogged, the golf carts are a bit knackered, and the guy in The Marshmallow Man Costume is walking a bit funny, but the animals are cool!</marquee>
  </body>



Out of a door, I walks in to a hallway of where everything you've seen so far was filmed. Ben turns around to look in the room and gives a thumbs up to the people in there.

"I'll be back with you guys in a bit." I said to the people behind the door. "Just gonna film this whole thing against Crossy and I'll be back with you."

I shut the door behind him and turns to face the camera with the SCU Underground championship over my shoulder. I look down at it and scratch my head.

"Wrong belt, my bad." I say to myself.

With a click of my fingers and a little camera magic, the SCU Underground championship turns in to the SCW World Heavyweight championship title. I smile at it with pride as I look down at it.

"Much better." I say with a film nod.

I quickly look up at the camera.

"Alright people." A smile burst over my face. "Before I start talking about Mark Cross, I need to thank Evie, Despayre, Fenris, Aron, Amber, Sammi, Mercedes, O'Malley, Mercedes, Alexis, Alex, Ariana and Krystal for being part of my utter goofiness for the day, and to all those guys who played the baddies. I wanna let ya all know that everyone involved in today's little shoot were tested beforehand and are clean and we actually filmed this in The Saxon Hotel, so we never had to leave the grounds to do anything at all. Social distancing is still very important and if any of us were sick, this wouldn't have happened. Now they're all in the green room behind me, having a drink on me, while I have to come out here and talk about this thing."

I put my finger on the SCW World Heavyweight championship.

"You know, I knew I was up for a challenge." I started. "There was never any doubt in my mind that this was gonna be a challenge for me, one of the toughest I've had since Fenris and you know, I was curious all bloody week to see what Mark Cross would have to say about it. Blokes an interesting guy, has a way with words and I did enjoy most of it. I do say most of it, cause certain things might have stuck out to me that made me think, meh, I thought you was better than that."

I rub my chin.

"I honestly thought you'd be focusing all about me mate." I said with a neutral look on my face. "I thought I was the one whose door you'd be knocking down. Me the one you'd be going at. I expected that from you, expected you to have that class, but you did the same as everyone else did."

I sigh with disappointment.

"You based it all on Evie." I said rolling my eyes. "How creative of you!"

I slowly clap.

"You couldn't get at me so much, but you went with the who I'm married to as a way of motivating me." I say with a shrug. "Mate, if you've never had a bird that inspires you to be better, to do better, then you ain't been around good women for a start."

A smile breaks on my face.

"It was almost like you was selling a match with her and not me. You do know this match is sanctioned by SCW, not SCU? And that SCW doesn't go for intergender wrestling? Or maybe I should be more to the point; you do know that it's me, and not my wife, that you're facing and should be focused on?" I say while clicking my fingers. "'Ere mush, I'm your opponent so sitting rambling on so much about Evie has pretty much summed up exactly how you've done things since winning Blast From The Past, just me talking about our match then. Pretty standard from you lately. Don't worry mate, I'll remind people that I'm facing you rather than you facing Evie."

I slowly shake my head.

"That promo alone showed me, and the world so much." I said seriously. "You have no idea how selling a match works, as much as you know about relationships, but here's the thing. Without her, I'd be facing Austin James Mercer right now, or any of the other people who entered that tournament. If she would have walked away in match one like she was teasing, not only would you not be in SCW at this point, but I think even SCU would have got tired of getting nothing back from ya and cut ya. Hell, they're probably thinking that now if they watched you non sell their top title match by spending most of your time sitting there worrying about my relationship over what I can do in the ring. I mean there are a million wrestling couples out there. One wrestler in always trying to use things like Twitter to hook up with another wrestler, you know that first hand, don't ya?"

I couldn't help but smile.

"No offence meant, of course." I say, trying to hide that smile. "Now those people have no shame in allowing their partners in their work, they're all in the same business, but you're using the fact that me and Eves as a focal point, as a way to rip shreds off me? How different is using your current partner, from using faces from your past in..."

I put my fingers up in air quotes.

"Flash backs?" I say with a serious face. "It's not, so if that's the game you wanna run at me, that is seriously water of a ducks back. I look forward to seeing your next promo, that will no doubt air after mine, be nothing but you, you and you."

I take a few steps forward towards a wall and lean against it.

"Nothing wrong with Evie driving me on to be better than you are." I say seriously. "Absolutely nothing, because it's got me to hold this championship. It's kinda in her nature cause she drove you on to win Blast From The Past and bring your championship belt to me. Evie does go for the throat to sell tickets, and she puts that in to me, then it's not a bad thing. It beats getting paid by two company and having very little respect from both companies because ya spend more time at home, hoping that someone like me, or someone like Father Gerald, or even O'Malley sells stuff for you. This is how bad it is, three people sell things for you while you do nothing and you want people to respect you for being a champion? how long you been in this business again?"

I run my hand through my hair.

"You've been knocking about long enough but couldn't be arsed to do your history report?" I say with a short sharp shake of my head. "Asking silly questions about when me and Eves have been on top at the same time. Mate, ya mugging yaself off there. You know this is my first top SCW title run, you know Eves stepped away from the ring a bit ago. Just a pointless question really. We haven't, but on Sunday, we'll find out with three belts between us. Making it sound like I've never held an SCW title before or something, which brings to mind something about people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. You haven't done what I have here. Did I need to grab that top belt sooner to earn the respect and applause from my co-workers? Absolutely not, I worked hard and earned their respect by you know, showing up to work. This whole thing earlier, how many would have answered your call to have fun? Absolutely none because they don't respect you at all and you wanna sit and play a card about me and Eves not being at the top at the same time."

I breathe deeply.

"More proof that you ain't done too much work on me and focused more on Evie, because if you took the time to know who I am, you know I wouldn't mock ya about ya wife disappearing." I said in a disappointed tone. "We've all been there, but the relevance of it is moot, as much as you're basing everything on relationships here. It's a wrestling match, it ain't like partners, ex partners or future partners are getting involved, but here's something to throw out there. Actually feels like you're a bit jealous there that me and Eves are doing alright with our marriage. Maybe it's ya past that's made you bitter about things like marriage and other people being happy and actually working it right. My marriage means nothing in a wrestling match. I get in the ring and do what I have to and it seems to have worked out pretty well for me."

I run my fingers down the SCW World Heavyweight championship.

"Maybe you need some therapy to help you get through the bitterness and obsession with other people's relationships." I say looking towards the green room door. "I can have a word with Despy in there. He knows a guy."

I look back down the camera.

"You're not rattling me by talking about things outside the ring." I say matter-so-factly. "No safety nets needed here when Evie wins the Bombshell World Championship and I walk away with your title and mine. You can see first hand how we handle both being at the top, me being at the top of not one, but two companies. Honestly, there's no pressure here, none on the missus, we're actually looking forward to ruling the wrestling world. It's our legacy, might be destiny, however you wanna look at it mate. Either way, it's happening."

A confident look crosses my face.

"Mate, of course I'm gonna tell you this title means the world to me. Who wouldn't have a title and not have it mean something but I gotta ask again, how long have you been a wrestler?" I ask while looking at the belt. "You shoulda been around long enough to know that no one is a champion forever. Of course someone is gonna wrestle it away from me at some point. It's how this thing works, but it ain't gonna be you. Me and Eves are gonna be the top people around SCW so it won't be you, but someone will get it from me sooner or later, I have no doubt,  but every single second I hold it, I'm gonna be proud of it. I'm gonna be happy to be a champion and it's gonna continue after Into The Void IX."

I couldn't help but smirk.

"Also helps to sell something if you mention the event name, Into The Void IX more than once." I comment. "I've said that more in the last ten seconds than you did your whole promo last week...."

I put my hands up.

"Yeah, that was a bit of a sneaky one." I say with a slightly remorseful look on my face. "How far have I been progressing.... Well, I've been on every show since I won the championship and a hell of a lot in a row before I won the championship. After I won the belt, my first supercard title defence was against Fenris, did you watch that match? Probably not but you should go back and watch that cause that was top level wrestling, and I haven't slowed down yet. I have given everyone a chance who feel they're ready to step up and will continue to do so. Here's some advice, I shouldn't have to give this to you because you're a top champion yourself, but it's not just about how you lift yourself up, it's about how you lift your division up too."

I hold a finger up.

"Now this is not a slight at Senor Vinnie." I make clear. "But I'm pretty sure that since his belt became my belt, I have lifted this division to new heights. He wasn't here all the time as champion, I was, so I've brought the division up, now I couldn't do that if I wasn't on the rise myself, could I? I won the championship, I showed people the way up, I wasn't snotty with my nose in the air saying no to anyone wanting a shot at my belt, I gave them an approachable champion."

I put my hand on the title belt as I look at it..

"Now I'm not a plonker." I state as I look up at the camera. "I know the whole drinking diet thing was a dig a me, also not a good selling point for a match at Into The Void IX."

I hold up three fingers.

"Me drinking, smacking back the pizza, probably a substitute for the food of gods that is pie n mash." I say thoughtfully. "But it ain't done me much harm, has it? Bout work ethic mate. I can drink like a pisshead at a free bar and still get up and put the work in. Maybe as I got older, the hangovers disappeared and I can get out of the bed feeling like I've drunk enough to sink a battleship and one shower later, I'm back to being my charming self. Not sure how tactical it is to enjoy a pint with the boys and a dirty great pizza. Superstition? Must I have a pint and burger before every match to make sure that I win?"

I look up as if I'm thinking.

"Of course not, you wally!" I say with a smile. "Can I wrestle? Yes. Do I do it to a high standard? Absolutely. Have I been the World champion for over six months? You're too bloody right. Have I stopped having a pint or two or eating what I want? Don't be daft. I'll even buy ya a pint after the match"

I move my hand in the drinking motion.

"Nice attempt at Cockney, night to see you lot from Kent have the basics down, no shock, most Cockneys moved out there a while ago." I say with a shrug. "It doesn't matter if the people who step up to me are good enough or not, they believe in themselves. It's no different from you, you believe you can win, the outside world sees it differently, but you believe it, it's not gonna stop you trying at Into The Void IX..."

I hold up four fingers.

"Is it?" I shake my head slowly. "I'm taking this more serious than you might think Crossy. In fact, maybe a couple of weeks ago, I was thinking yeah, if I lose to Mark Cross, won't be a biggie, good wrestler when he shows up, but I dunno, minds change and fires get lit and who know. I will apologize though, Bear was a little too busy to appear in this one today. You want me to talk about why I'm better than you.... I show up and do the work?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"I have respect from people?" I continue. "People in your own company want to see you to lose to an outsider? I don't spend most of a promo talking about someone's partner? Or think mocking someone's diet is gonna put arses on seats? Oh you take your pick."

I point at the camera.

"Oh and well done for following Twitter to see me talking about what I planned and trying to use that against me as if it was gonna make me change my plans." I say pointing down the camera.

My pointing turns to slow clapping.

"Man, if only I never had that rush of blood to my head with that fast count." I mutter to myself. "At least Father Gerald might have had interesting things to say about me."

I breathe in deep and exhale sharply as I look down.

"If you believe those words you're saying about me and something tells me you do." I say looking back up. "You're about to lose the SCU Underground championship, to a boozer, with a bad diet, who don't take bugger all serious, that jokes around and fought no one of any note past Fenris. Man, you're gonna feel like a right plum on Sunday at.... Into The Void IX."

I quickly hold up five fingers.

"Well, I'll leave you with that Crossy. I'm sure this woulda been more fun if you spent more time talking about me rather than my wife and the fact you don't mind a drop of gin from time to time." I say with a blank look on my face. "And you'll probably watch this before you record yours, so whatcha think of the parody?"

I smile down the camera.

"I'll see you on Sunday at..... Into The Void IX." I say with a wink.

I hold up six fingers.

"Laters people."

The camera fades to black.

[The Dragon]

 Part 1 - Ancient History

21st September 2008
Some back-country town
Mark “The Dragon” Cross vs Namen Hammer © - Non-Title Match

With two or three bounces on the canvas, a young Mark “The Dragon” Cross skids into view. His trainer, who also accompanied him to the ring as manager to offer some on-the-spot coaching, ran around the ring to give his instructions.

Octane: Man just let him pin you! C'mon!

The Dragon: He's getting tired, I can feel…

A giant, leather-clad hand comes into view, taking a firm grip of Mark's hair as he is pulled back to his feet. From the low-down position of the camera looking up, we see a much larger man lift him up, then back down hard in a fallaway slam. McKane runs around again to speak to his man.

Octane: You've put on a good show, no point getting hurt, just let it go.

The Dragon: Nope.

Mark drives a boot into the ankle of the giant as he comes in for another attack, which sends him hopping away in pain. The Dragon attempts a kip-up, which fails miserably, drawing ironic cheers from the crowd of twenty or so. Gingerly, he picks himself up using the ropes as a ladder. His opponent approaches, this time with a head of steam, but Cross falls back on his football days with a shoulder charge to the ribs, followed by a messy-looking DDT, fighting all the way for purchase as he manages to make the move connect.

Larsen: That wasn’t the most tidy execution you’ll ever see Craig.

Evans: It sure wasn’t, but noggin hit canvas, and that’s all that matters right?

Looking for the big finish, Mark “locks in” a sleeper hold on his fallen opponent...sort of. For those watching on, it looked like two brothers rolling around in the back yard, with neither getting much purchase on the other.

Octane: Lock your hands! Ye-no! Like you were before...use your legs! Use your damn legs or something man c’mon!!

The Dragon: You’re not helping!!

Evans: Looks like Cross and his manager are gonna end up in a lil brewhaha once this match is out.

Larsen: It seems like the legs weren’t working, so he’s resorted to throwing elbows…

With the left arm not really locking in the hold, and with his legs and lower body lacking the flexibility to give any extra leverage, The Dragon uses his free right arm to rain down clubbing elbows to try and stop the big man from struggling so much. Eventually it works, as we see the left arm finally get enough purchase to begin torquing the neck. As the referee comes in for a closer look, we see the leather gloved hand begin to tap. The match was over.

Evans: What the hell...he...won?

Larsen: What have I just witnessed?

Evans: I mean we all wanted to see Hammer get beaten eventually but...Cross?

Larsen: It’s a non-title match, but the one they call The Dragon is running around the ring like he’s just won the Superbowl or something. What a victory.

Evans: I mean yeah, but MAN that was ugly.

Namen Hammer, AKA The Hungarian Hammer (many plus points for originality) was THE guy in the first company I signed a semi-permanent deal. Before that, it had been bouncing around from local show to local show, wrestling for anyone that would take me, just to gain in-ring experience. I wrestled for free. I paid to wrestle sometimes. In the NFL it had been five star hotels, this was your stereotypical cheap motel. Yeah, the sleaziest kind. Compared to my level now, it was like wrestling in someone's garage and then sleeping in their car afterwards, but they had tapings, an announce team, I even had a contract...of sorts. I was going up in the world.

He was huge, physically imposing, and while technically limited in the grapple, had enough big slams to knock the wind clean out of your sails from a great height. Now, no problem, I’d look forward to taking someone so one-dimensional to the cleaners in eight minutes or less Then? I had even less tools in my locker than he did, nor did I have his size or his power. I had the speed advantage of course, but I couldn’t run away to victory.

The talent on the roster was just as limited as my moveset, filled with a few washed-up has-beens, fuelling their drug or gambling habits, and guys like that litter every backwater wrestling company up and down the country, but a lot of the guys, most were like me, in a way. They watched wrestling on TV, loved it, decided that was all they wanted to do in their life...but they didn't have the look, or the physicality, or the talent, so this was the level they wound up at, hoping for something that everybody knew would never come. Maybe even to the guys themselves. For now they were still living the dream, but barely.

Wrestling? It's not really the niche sport you might think it is. A little training...hell if you go deep enough into grass roots level, no formal training whatsoever, and there's a chance you'll be able to wrestle someone, somewhere, and get a third person in the mix to watch. You might even make a little moolah. Will it pay the bills? No. Will it count as a career? No. But it scratches that itch, in a way, and if you make a few bucks in the process, that's all the better. I should have been destined for the same, have a little fun, sign a few autographs, literally two or three, and go back to enjoying the fruits of my labours in football, probably in a hot tub, but that wasn’t the future for me.

The 5am alarms started when I realised just how far off the pace I was, and how much it would take to get caught up to speed. I got up and I ran. I started to think about the body I'd needed for these years in football. It was all about speed, agility, and explosive power from the legs. On my best days it felt like I could leg press a steam train, and that would transfer of course, but I needed more. I had to transition to a wrestling physique. Football was intense but it was short, sharp bursts. Maybe an 80 yard dash if I broke through the Linebacking corps, but after that I could sit and sip Gatorade while the defence took over. I needed the longevity and the staying power that had never been a problem before. My runs started small, 10km, I knew I could make that in my sleep, just on the virtue of being a professional athlete, I'd map out a little route and run to the gym before I worked out. Kilometres became miles over time, and continued to grow.

My physical conditioning transformed. I worked lower body still, I needed that lift, especially since I’d stepped into a second career where maybe I was a little undersized, but I needed more options, more versatility. Core, for more leverage. Arms, for more leverage. Shoulders for...erm...more leverage. More tools in more situations as we worked on making my strikes stiffer, my skill set wider, and my submissions worthy of making a guy tap out once in a while. The first time too, not after rolling around aimlessly for a few minutes.

I tracked down the most successful names, the most decorated gyms. From the Japanese I learned Strong Style. From boxing I learned stand-up. From MMA I learned ground control and submissions. From all I learned how to defend again the very best their disciplines had to offer. Books, film, training sessions. I became a sponge. Every piece of information I could have, I took. I devoured it all. I worked harder, for longer. Those guys around me, they maybe did one or two of the things I was doing, but not all, and not all at the same time. I left them behind, bobbing around helplessly in my wake as I went on to bigger and better things.

What do you do when everyone around you doubts you? Give them two middle fingers, dust yourself off, and prove them wrong.


5th June 2017
GIW Revolt - Backstage

I’d left Faith in the capable hands of my team while I was off touring Japan, but even though it was a non-title match, this was the first time she would walk out with the GIW Legacy championship on her shoulder. It felt too important to miss somehow.

It’s a shame, if I could have waited a few weeks, I could have been there. I could have stopped it. I could have stopped it all.

The Dragon: What are those sorry excuses for wraps you've got on your hands huh?

Faith: You made it!!

The Dragon: Wasn't going to miss your first match as champion now was I? Even if it did mean jumping off the flight from Tokyo and driving straight here…

Assessing Faith’s “handiwork” from a standing position, he knelt down to the floor, rummaging around in her kitbag for anything he could use to salvage the job somehow.

Faith: I'm so glad you came! My hands were shaking so much trying to do these…

The Dragon: I thought Devinee was supposed to…

Faith: She just kept like, buzzing around, it was making me even more nervous ya know?

Devinee was fiery, hot-headed, literally and figuratively, and very very Irish. She’d been a pro wrestler longer than Faith and I combined, yet she bounced around backstage like a little ball of nervous energy nonetheless. It seemed like we both shared the same sentiment, it was better not to have her in the room before showtime

The Dragon: Yeah - I get that. You know the gameplan?

Faith: Go out and wrestle?

The Dragon: Yup. How's the nerves?

Faith: Um...it feels like my stomach's doing backflips?

The Dragon: Cool! In that case you're ready to win then.

In the moment there was nothing more to be said. The girl wrestled on pure instinct anyway, there was no point crowding her head with anything. Silence fell on the scene as Mark unfurled the fabric and wraps from Faith's hands and started again, the only sound coming from the ripping of tape from his teeth. The camera begins to pan away until the piercing metallic thud of fist connecting with locker door rings out.

10th October 2017
GIW Revolt - Backstage

Apollo: Your defending Legacy champion, who can't even wrap her GODDAMN hands properly before her match. Remind me to ask your parents for more money to keep dealing with this level of bullshit.

The hulking figure pulled his fist out from the dented locker, seemingly unaffected by the impact. Faith, who had been staring down at her Legacy title belt on her lap, suddenly jolted upright.

Faith: I'm nervous OK can you like...help!?!

Apollo: You're nervous? You're pathetic. You're weak. You're out of your depth. That's not nerves, it's fear. Fear of hard work.

He closed the gap between them, in two or three short strides. He knelt to her level, almost spitting in her face as she recoiled away from him on the bench.

Apollo: I don’t know why anyone wasted their energy on you. The Future? There is no future for a scared little girl pretending to play wrestler.

As the tirade continues, and the girl runs out of bench to pull away from, she almost seems to start vibrating on the bench from the physical shaking...out of fear, we’d probably assume.. If it weren't for the poor wrap job on her hands, we'd see her knuckles were pure white as they gripped her Legacy title.

Apollo: You. Deserve. To. Lose.

Faith: FUCK OFF!!!!!

The shriek was ear-splitting as Faith felt the anger that had been building to fever pitch over the past few months boil over all at once. She gripped the strap of the title belt and swung it like a baseball bat at Apollo's face, sending him to the floor as the metallic plate that took up the front connected squarely with his jaw. He tried to scramble straight to his feet, but true to her hashtag #2fast4u Faith sprung into action, folding up the nearest steel chair she could find. She drove it hard across the shoulder blades of Apollo, sending him back down to the deck.

We find ourselves back to last week, each blow echoing a metallic ring around the room, every one drawing a cry from the downed Apollo Adams. The final blow comes, an unprotected shot to the face of the man, and as his head drives against the concrete, the cries stop, replaced with silence. The camera pans back to Faith, chest rising and falling rapidly, her breathing laboured, as she lets the chair fall to the ground with a clatter. Slowly, deliberately, she rips the ruined wrapping around her hands, looks once out of shot, to her fallen trainer, and throws them down on top of him.

With a final flourish, Faith rips the ruined hand wraps off, throwing them down at her trainer, now knocked out cold.

Faith: Now who’s pathetic?

Sometimes you just have to take control of your own destiny, and from that moment on, sixteen year old Faith Simpson took full control of hers. As we touched on last week, those who managed to stick it out with Apollo went on to become warriors, yet it turned out that instead of being able to stick with him, it was Apollo that couldn’t stick with her. Out of teachers and students, Faith was stronger than them all. I find this moment more poignant now more than ever. I stand on the precipice of the chance to hold the top accolade on two of this company's three brands. The top dog. Ben Jordan is important of course. I've watched him, he's watched me. We're professionals, and we're winners, but the key to getting the right result? Well that lies with me.


The Second Loss

Last week I spoke about three losses. One, irreversible. One, as we just saw, resolved itself in one of the most dramatic ways possible, and the last? Well the jury is still out, but I feel like it changed both of us as people, and I don’t know quite how we can come back from it.

The house that Amanda and I owned in Coconut Grove, Miami cost us a cool $1.5m when we first bought it. What does a couple of years as a starter in the NFL in a skill position get you? A pretty small house by the standards of one of the most affluent areas in the City, 3 bedroom, 3 bathroom, swimming pool, hot tub, a kitchen bigger than a lot of people’s whole apartments...on our street we were the basic bitches, but to most we were living the life of riley.

Why am I telling you this, to flex on you? To pull my Aston Martin up on the driveway, head straight to the backyard and jump in the pool while I talk about how great my life is? Actually - no. See the truth is, we could have taken our $1.5m and bought something much larger, much more awe inspiring inside and out if we chose another location. Even within Miami, you can get way more bang for your buck...but we didn’t plan on it ever really being more than her and me. We didn’t want to be able to lose each other in our own home, have to call each other on the phone to talk if we were in different rooms. It was the perfect size for our little family unit of two, not too big, not too small, and since we both travelled a lot, definitely not an empty, cavernous-feeling space for when you were there on your own.  

Except for when I was actually, truly alone of course. The phone call came the evening before, I was 24 hours too late, if that. I’d flown out last-minute as an injury replacement for ECWF, who were normally based out of Miami, but were in the middle of a tour when one of their guys had broken their ankle playing crazy golf, of all things, and needed me to fill in. Although they hadn’t retained me at the end of my contract, reliable freelancers that can come in and deliver the goods on short notice were hard to find, and with me they knew they could count on quality, consistency and professionalism.

I could tell straight away from her tone that something between us had changed, possibly for good. Amanda and I have, to this point, managed to completely avoid talking about the sudden and almost completely unexplained collapse of our marriage, very adult of us I know, but the only real way I can describe it was that she’d already let me go, distanced herself from me more for her own protection than anything else, to make it easier for her to walk away, all preparation she did to make sure I couldn’t turn up and talk her out of it. It was so matter-of-fact, so curt - She was moving back to Utah to be closer to her family. By the time I got back to Florida, she would be gone, and her lawyer would be in touch to sort out the financials. By the way, she was going to let me keep the house. Living in Miami was always my dream anyway.

It was a level of calculated coldness that I didn’t think existed in the woman I married. Maybe it didn’t, at least not originally. Maybe it was all my fault. In a way, I was impressed by it, respected it.

Normally the 6 or so mile cab ride from the airport filled me with excitement, no matter how non-existent my sleep on the plane had been, it normally meant the chance to wrap my arms around my wife and tell her how much I missed her, which was always completely genuine. If she was out of town, I could fill the kitchen with the smell of freshly ground coffee and brew up the first good cup I’d been able to drink all trip. Then I could flop into the hot tub and let it soothe my aching muscles while the caffeine stopped me from falling asleep and spending the whole night in there. This time it was just my mind racing. Was it just a joke? Was it permanent? Could I change her mind somehow? Was this really the end?

I felt a little sick to the stomach, and a little numb as I threw fifty bucks to the driver, and flat-out ignored his questions as I trudged up the driveway. He made his own judgement call - No, he didn’t want his change back, and Yes - I’ll just leave his suitcase here and hope for the best. After all, this was a nice part of town. The Aston Martin was still there, check. The locks hadn’t been changed, check. The precious coffee machine, grinder, and relevant accessories were still in the place I’d left them. Check. As I trudged the stairs to our bedroom, the atmosphere grew thicker, the air staler. Almost expecting the outcome, I threw open the door to Amanda’s wardrobe and found myself greeted by...nothing but empty hangers, with no clothes on them.

...and an old t-shirt of mine that she’d long since borrowed and used for sleeping in.

Well fuck.

I knew what would make this hurt a little less.

The Dragon: Hey - I didn’t see you on the Tour, are you still in Miami?

The First Regret

Well that wasn’t worth it.

I got a lot of questions fired my way when I was released from the East Coast Wrestling Federation. After more time bouncing around it was a step back into a bigger promotion, like I had been known for, and to be honest I was proud of the work I’d done with them too. For outsiders looking in, it just seemed like a real shame it didn’t work out, but the rumour mill had been grinding on the inside, with suggestions that I'd become a little too familiar with the owner, and it was better for the atmosphere of the locker room if I wasn’t around the whole time. Especially if it opened up opportunities, whether I earned them on merit or not.

Now just to clarify,  they were just rumours I didn't cheat on my wife. I hadn't planned on being with anyone else, I just wasn't looking, and I think being so oblivious ended up alienating me to the rumoured love interest, as we didn’t maintain contact. On reflection,  I maybe should have seen this coming and laid more foundations, since I probably let a good one get away, but maybe in another life or something. The green-haired woman, who now occupied the other side of the bed, wearing that same sleep shirt that had been left behind as one final fuck you, was not the owner we’d previously talked about. She was nothing more than the living proof that empty, meaningless sex was definitely not going to fill the void that had been left behind. Plus she’d probably be difficult to get rid of. And she’d probably want coffee. I suddenly felt a selfish streak bubble up that had been suppressed for years. This was different, but it wasn’t new. Amanda wasn’t the only one changing in a short space of time.

The Dragon: I hope that hair colour doesn’t come off on the damn sheets...

The Cross family unapologetically put themselves and their own needs above all others, without fail. It's genetics, and science is one of those things in life that is hard to fight around. My Dad was the one exception to that rule. For him, if you were someone he cared about, he would go above and beyond to help you, support you, help you get what you want. His sacrifices financially, time-wise, effort-wise, too numerous to name over the years. We shared wrestling. We shared music. We shared cars. We shared guitars. His interests were my interests, and vice versa. I don't know who was looking for excuses to spend time with the other. It was probably a bit of both.

I treasure those memories. It makes them seem even more important now than they did back when he was around, not like I took them for granted before...just...it was different now. His influence on me left me in an odd limbo state, it turned out. I was his son, the best parts of me came from him, and I spend every day trying to live up to his example, to be even half the man he was...but yet I was a Cross...and you can't fight genetics right?

It was time to abandon this part-time bullshit. Breaking off workouts to watch Faith work out in the ring? She should be breaking off her ring work to train with me, learning from MY success. Turn down a chance to get in a ring to fly across the country and catch her match? She was three years into a professional career, she could stand on her own two feet by now. She was plenty talented enough. She knew it too. I’d stepped away from the only thing I’d known for the past decade, the main thing that got me out of bed in the morning. The only thing now, since going on an adventure with my wife wasn’t on the cards anymore. I needed it more than ever.

I fought hard, for a long time, against my DNA. The single-mindedness that plagued my teens was slowly nurtured out of me by my parents. They did the best they could, and it worked. It worked for a long time, and while football, and then wrestling was my thing, I was always ready to drop everything if I needed to. I didn’t have to, often, but only because those around me recognised how important it was, and let me be as much as they could.

Now, whether through positive or negative reasons, everyone had spread their wings, started carving their own path. More often than not, they needed me more than I needed them. Now, it was like none of us needed each other at all. We could be free, unburdened.

This whole realisation would have probably derailed a person, left them feeling empty, alone, confused, not really knowing where to turn. I didn’t - I had this born into me. It was written into my genetic code. I knew exactly how to move forward. It was time for me to be me, in the truest sense of the word, and if anyone else wanted to come along for the ride, they’d have to cling on to my coat tails and try to hold on.[/]

: Hey, is that coffee?

Please. Just. Leave.


Part 2 - Making History

We are taken to the mini golf course of the Saxon Hotel, which has been cleared of guests and Sin City Wrestling staff alike for the time being. For fear of an injury that would put him out of the Into the Void match, Mark “The Dragon” Cross had asked for Evie Jordan to be banished to her room. He doubted anyone would be brave enough to tell her...or give her the voucher for golf lessons that he’d bought her.

We see him approach the first tee, drop the ball, and putt through the windmill.

The Dragon: It’s one of the most overused sayings in human history, but it’s also one of the more accurate - We all have to start somewhere, in any sport, hobby, career, whatever. Usually that includes all of the inexperience, poor technique, misplaced self-confidence and generally just not being very good that comes with the struggle of just starting out. Cue my first forays into wrestling for example. I didn't need to do it for my bank account, I can assure you of that. I didn't even really need to do it for the competition...after football I could easily have traded in for something a little more non-contact, tennis or golf, start my retirement early and all that...but wrestling was what I chose, and wrestling was what I did. Now the question was simply - Would I last, or would I be another failure who tried to switch sports, crashed, burned, and slunk out of the public eye?

His next putt bounced off the back wall of the hole, but didn’t quite come back enough to go in. At least he was left with an easy tap-in.

The Dragon: Now like I say, I wasn't very good to start. I was still physically conditioned for taking hits, secretly still hoping the phone would ring, and another NFL contract would materialise, so I used that to my advantage. I went out there, I took some hits, and I tried to wear down my opponent. Wait long enough that I could start to unleash my painfully limited offense, and finally do some damage of my own. It was ugly to watch of course, the overwhelming suggestion was that I should just throw in the towel, give it up. I’d watch them back as part of my training sessions, and of course that was the last thing I wanted to do back then, but now I look at some of those early matches with the most pride of all. It’s where the part of me that got me here, to this moment, appeared in the squared circle. Call it resilience, call it stubbornness, whatever, but I didn't quit. For anyone with the slightest clue about wrestling, watching me fumble around in the ring in those cringeworthy displays was enough to make you want to change the channel...but I didn’t stop trying. I didn’t stop getting up, I didn’t stop putting myself through the pain, the suffering, the embarrassment and eventually, I didn’t stop putting wins on the board either. I developed the art of winning ugly. I could work on making it pretty later.

Mark holed his easy putt, moving on to the next one.

The Dragon: You might ask why put myself through it when I didn’t need to? Well something I never really talk about, is I was a huge wrestling fan as a kid. My friends were wrestling fans too, in fact they were probably the catalyst. It started out with major promotions of course, the ones you could watch on TV, in a time when connecting to the Internet made a dial tone, and streaming video was still a decade into the future. It was all we had access to. We could watch the shows, wear the t-shirts, flip through the magazines, and at night we would dream about the day when we would be able to call ourselves World champion, and hold that belt aloft. I remember my neighbours joking with my parents about how it sounded like I was being attacked, as I sat glued to the TV ooh'ing and aah'ing at the breathtaking slams, and vicious chops that must have stung for days.

His first shot on the next hole doesn’t exactly go to plan. He hits another before continuing.

The Dragon: Of course, as with most childhood pipedreams, we get older, wiser, or that thing that was the fashion just stops being cool anymore, and the dream dies, replaced with whatever the next thing is. In others, it isn’t so easy. The love still remains, it runs deep, we just learn to keep it to ourselves to avoid the ridicule. That doesn’t matter of course, I’m too wrapped up in my own head to NEED to share it, or have the validation of others. I still played my video games, against the computer, not my friends. I still read the books. Eventually, my Dad would order pirated VHS tapes of obscure deathmatch tournaments from out in Japan, quenching my thirst for something a little less mainstream. To most people, they go through life with these fleeting interests. They come, they run their course, fizzle out as life takes a different turn, and the next one comes along. I'm not wired up the same. For me it becomes an obsession, something I have to keep digging down further into, peeling away more layers, learning everything there is to learn. Wrestling means a little more to me than paying the bills, or fuelling a habit. We look at careers as being from the first day you walked into a gym, or the first time you laced up your boots, but mine started as a child. My friends were content with one show, their mainstream product, their Sin City Wrestling. I wanted GRIME and Underground too.

His next shot is better, putting himself in a strong position to finish the hole.


The Dragon: Flash back to a year ago, I started making a splash on the main show, picking up wins against guys that have been floating around the roster for a while. Recognisable names, but none particularly remarkable Jake Raab, Caleb Storms, Stephen Callaway. Guys who are queuing up to take Ben Jordan's open challenges I notice, more soft, easy defences. The difference between me, and them? They're still scrambling to get on my level. I am the toughest challenge Ben has faced up until now, and if his social media is anything to go by, I'm the toughest challenge he'll face in the whole of 2020. Talk about taking the easy way out, but at least it's not too late to step in. Jake Raab? I've beaten. O'Malley? I've defended my Underground title against. Fenris? He's tough, physical, intense, but technically he gives up too much ground, to Ben, or to me. Senor Vinnie? His cactus has its own social media presence, it was fun while it lasted, but the division had to focus up at some point.

As expected, the putt sinks.

The Dragon: After Blast from the Past, you will have seen a video from me. A unification. Underground, GRIME, SCW, the three biggest prizes held up in one hand, by one man. It can be done, but it’s no mean feat. Fighting on three fronts, against the best each one has to offer? I can count the number worthy on one hand, and two of them are in the same match at Into the Void, fighting to unify two of the titles. You way expect the usual, I saw what my opponent said about me. I listen, I respond, we try and win the battle of words...but not this time. I haven't watched anything Ben's put out over the past few weeks because frankly, I don't care. I don't need to care. I don't need to go backwards and forward with him over semantics. It’s a pointless exercise. The important thing is that he’s going to get the fright of his life, a reminder that putting it in cruise control for a little while I get the logic, makes you go soft. You lose your edge, and by the time you realise, it’s too late. I’ve risen above the whole backwards-and-forwards, taken the higher ground, setting the right example. Here’s why I have what it takes to unify the divisions.

As if on cue, he lines up his next putt, taking the swing. He watches the ball patiently as it runs the course, landing as a hole in one.

The Dragon: Nice. I learned some tough lessons in the past year, of course. Number one, to take responsibility. My protege is now in Japan, working on her craft, with my oldest friend in this business there by her side. My now ex-wife, back living with family in Utah. The one man I trusted to manage my financial affairs, now doing that permanently from back in England and my coach, whom I've worked with from session number one, running one of my gyms in New Orleans. I'm the most alone I've ever been as a wrestler, and yet I realise that was all I ever needed in the first place. It's only when you distance yourselves from your inner circle...and everyone in mine I trust implicitly, and have done for many years, that the fog starts to clear. No matter how much they work for your benefit, with the best intentions, and wanting nothing more than for you to succeed, they're human beings. With their own lives, their own feelings and emotions that can often ambush them at the worst times. That bleeds of course, bleeds more than the bass from a pair of Beats headphones on a crowded metro train, it gets into everything, and where my energy should go into me, I feel myself drawn by my responsibility to them. Does that mean being more selfish? Yes. Does it mean ruining friendships? I tore Kate Steele’s parenting skills a new one to get the edge in the Blast from the Past finals, yes, it absolutely does, but those are the sacrifices I have to choose to make. This is my career, my opportunity, my sole responsibility. For me to give anything less, that's disrespectful. Disrespectful to everyone who has ever worked with me, for me, fought against me. It's disrespectful to Ben Jordan if I came out with a whole bunch of excuses, blaming anything but my own failure to get it done.  I have gotten to the point of having my hand on title gold here on the main show, only to shirk the opportunity. The truth is though, you have to face adversity, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger You tend to learn more from one defeat than you do from ten victories, and it’s all part and parcel. I’m a champion in my own right, let’s not forget. I’ve taken that opportunity with both hands. I’ve fought to maintain what I’ve earned, and with Blast from the Past, it feels like I’ve got that monkey off my back here in Vegas too. I’ve gone all the way, I’ve seen it through to the end. Now I just have to go and do it once again. The truth is I have nobody else to blame. I’ve prepared the best way I know how. I’ve freed my mind of distractions. Whatever the result I accept. Whatever the result I’ll learn from it. I’ll come back stronger, and ready for the next challenge. Ben would have been better off had I won the Roulette title, the Internet title, I would have had less to prove.

Eventually he retrieves his hole-in-one shot, moving on to number four.

The Dragon: In this business there are no secrets, no tricks, no shortcuts. I wonder what goes through the heads of some of my fellow competitors when they flap their gums about some kind of title match, and getting themselves into it. I bet they start "I know I can beat him IF…" I don't want that if anywhere near Into the Void. I want the very best Ben Jordan has to offer me, and I want it all thrown at me at once. With my fist raised high above my head, the pain of the war I'd just come through etched on my face, I want anyone in, around, or watching that match to say Mark "The Dragon" Cross walked through the fires of hell to prove he was the better man, and there was nothing more his opponent could have done to stop it. I can think of many who would be happy with "just the win cheers". A slip, a fast count, a rolled ankle, you name it. It doesn’t matter how you get it, as long as you get it, right? Hell no.

Mark drops the ball at the next hole, but doesn’t take the shot.

The Dragon: See I can’t help but do the work. I can’t stop myself, even if there’s an easier path. You could just walk to the ring and ask. You could just Tweet the guy and ask. You could let Pussy Willow shove a microphone in front of your face and ask. Roll up, roll up, get your title shot! Take a ticket and join the back of the queue. Instead I put myself in a tournament, four victories needed to EARN my shot. Take the risk with a random partner, get one that used to be something a year or so ago, but who knows what shape they’re in now. Even as they turn their back and abandon me on week one, I hold up my end. I give THEM another shot. I guess we’ll wait to see that right after our matches, the real acid test of who carried who in our partnership, if that was even the case at all. See this isn’t some flash in the pan, a little hot streak that’s going to fizzle out into nothing. Ben wakes up at 9am to go running with Fenris, work off those pints and the junk food. I’ve already been up for three hours, probably running further, for longer. I’m eating a designed nutrition plan. I’m in the gym daily. I’m getting my rest and recovery in, then I’m doing it again the next day. I’ve done it every day since we got to the hotel. I’ve done it every day since I came to Sin City Wrestling, and I’ll do it every day from here on out. How about cheat days? How about just taking a lay in because you feel like it? I’ll cheat when I’ve retired, but thanks for the offer. At the elite level, it comes down to fine margins, small percentages. There’s always room for growth, or improvement, no matter how small. I keep coming, keep evolving, keep adding new layers. I keep pushing myself to be better, because I know there’s better in there. Face me now and I’m one of the scariest prospects on any roster. Try again in a few months, it’s going to get so much worse for you.

Instead of playing on, Mark walks away from the course completely, the camera following closely behind.

The Dragon: I think it’s ironic, how this finally comes to a head. Normally it’s me being the practical joker, bagpipes, guitars, marching bands, you name it. Nothing but fluff and bravado ahead of my next time in the ring...but you know what we might have to start calling that? Pulling a Jordan. One on one, straight up, I probably outmatch 80-90% of the roster. Every roster. I watch footage, go over past matches, prepare the way I usually do, and I know the victory is assured before I walk in the building. You know what that makes me think? I can do anything I like when I’m in there, it doesn’t change the outcome. I’ve got that method dialled in nicely...but Ben, this time he’s trying it against a whole different calibre of opposition, and that I think is his mistake to make.

Mark reaches the wall at the end of the boundary of the courtyard, turning to face the camera, leaning back against it.

The Dragon: Let this be seen as my ultimate show of respect - The theatrics are staying at home this time, but take it as a warning too. I have prepared harder than for any match in my time here. I have been more focussed, less distracted, I’m saving my fun for the celebrations when the win gets handed over, and I’ve got to try and figure out how to wear two belts at once. I’ve done this partly for me, because I deserve it, because I have the talent to carry it off, but most of all, I’ve done it for the good of the company, and the division. I've gone on record before, and I've admitted that what GRIME is trying to instigate, in theory, makes a whole lot of sense. It's a shift, a change from the status quo, a movement into something different, something better. The World Heavyweight title is one match away from a similar shift, moving on to a better place. Open challenges have sucked the prestige, the very life blood from the biggest single show of strength and capability that this company has. The days of earning those chances, where did they go exactly? It seems fitting that the one man to earn his chance, is the one who takes it with both hands. Let's not forget this is wrestling. We meet in combat and we fight until one man has no more fight left to give. The squared circle is our Coliseum, the right to call ourselves the best of the best is our freedom. Chances are earned in blood, and sweat, and victory, not by asking nicely. At least...that's the way it should be.

We've had a great champion. A deserving one. It's time to go one better as we go Into the Void. See you out there.

The scene fades to black.