Author Topic: A Blast From The Past - Literally  (Read 1063 times)

Offline Peter Vaughn

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A Blast From The Past - Literally
« on: March 24, 2023, 11:57:16 PM »
~As the camera comes on, we're once again inside the warehouse of one Peter Vaughn. We've never gotten any indication of where this warehouse is located, but the obvious thought would be it's somewhere in Texas. Then again, trying to predict anything that Vaughn's involved with is always a risky proposition. The camera turns to the right, showing Vaughn standing there, wearing a large white wig and a suit. Yep, unpredictable. He slowly turns towards the camera, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Hello, Sin City. And what a fabulous day it is, isn't it? Why, it's almost patriotic. I earn my first victory at an SCW Pay-Per-View, and wouldn't you know it, it's by beating a man named Washington. Does that mean Adams is next? Is there a Lincoln in the house that needs to get assassinated? Is there a dirty crook like Nixon? Actually, I'd like to meet that guy.

~Vaughn nods to himself, before shaking his head. He reaches up, pulling off the wig and staring at it, as if holding a human head.~

Peter Vaughn: Alas, poor Jack, I knew him... well, really, I didn't know him at all, other than he's the second former champion that I've taken down. So far, I think I've proven my worth to the SCW big-wigs, pun unintended...

~Vaughn tosses the wig behind him, as if discarding a useless piece of history.~

Peter Vaughn: And now, I've been given my opportunity in the Blast From The Past Tournament. And what an opportunity it is... for my fellow Saviors. Somehow, they managed to stick together for the most part in their random draws, while I'm here with Seleana, a lady that I have to admit I know little about. I heard she's a zookeeper. A worthy profession, locking up dangerous animals behind steel cages. No wonder she ended up in wrestling.

~With a flourish, Vaughn sheds the rest of his suit, revealing a Zoolander t-shirt underneath. We get what he was going for, even if he's kind of missed the mark. But Vaughn has never been one for watching movies, so he probably has no idea what Blue Steel is.~

Peter Vaughn: So I'm with the Zoo Princess... and I have to fight a God in the first round. Well, I didn't come to Sin City to avoid the tough contests, now, did I? Looks like I've got my hands full... and looks like my partner and I will have to work out a few strong strategies to survive.

~Vaughn nods, turning away from the camera, before looking back at it again with a distinctive pose. Maybe he DOES know Blue Steel.~

Peter Vaughn: And maybe Ken and I will have to get together beforehand and discuss a few strategies of our own.

~With a shrug, Vaughn walks away, departing the camera's view, as the picture slowly cuts away from the warehouse.~



~As the picture returns, we find ourselves outside a small office building in downtown Dallas. Peter Vaughn is seen, stepping out of the car, wearing what appears to be a polo t-shirt and slacks. It doesn't look that great on him, probably because he continues to fidget with the outfit. Clearly, he misses his coveralls. Behind him, his half-brother, Thomas Hill, steps into view, dressed similarly. You'd think these two boys were going to church, but they're actually looking towards a higher power.~

Peter Vaughn: So this is where we're supposed to meet the investor?

Thomas Hill: Yeah, this is the place, alright. It says to just go in and meet with the receptionist, and we'll be directed to his office.

Peter Vaughn: What do we know about this guy again? This feels a little shady for me.

Thomas Hill: Look, Karl Withers is one of the wealthiest land owners in Dallas. This man can buy or sell you twenty times over.

Peter Vaughn: Nobody can buy me. I'm unbuyable.

Thomas Hill: Okay, fine, not you, but anyone else. And we need investors if we're going to continue to build up your ranch. Sure, you've sunk a lot of your wrestling winnings into it, but that's unsustainable long-term. We need a steady income to really boost us up, and to get there, we need seed money.

Peter Vaughn: It's a lot easier just to go out and win tournaments. But fine. We'll make this work, if only for you, brother.

~Vaughn has recently made a pledge to try and not treat his half-brother like a complete piece of crap. In some ways, that probably does show he cares about the guy, in his own way. Thomas nods, pleased, as they walk into the building. The receptionist looks up at them as they approach, giving her best business-winning smile.~

Receptionist: Hello! How can I help you?

Thomas Hill: We're here to meet with Karl Withers. I believe we have an appointment.

Receptionist: You certainly do! Please go down the hall to Room 122. I'll have Mr. Withers contact you shortly.

~Thomas nods in appreciation and starts to walk away, but Vaughn stops him. He's looking at the receptionist with suspicion.~[/i

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me, but you didn't even ask our names. How do you know WE'RE the ones with an appointment?

Receptionist: Oh... well, you're highly recognizable, Mr. Vaughn. I knew it was you as soon as you came in.

Thomas Hill: See, Peter? You're famous!

~Vaughn doesn't look like he buys that, as he's used to being ignored, despite his epic runs in the world of wrestling. But the receptionist keeps that plastered-on smile going, so Vaughn has no choice but to shrug and walk off with Thomas. As the two depart, the receptionist suddenly stands, pressing a button on her desk.~

Receptionist: He's here... and I'm out.

~The receptionist stands up and heads for the door, hurrying out of the building, as we cut away.~



You can never take anything at face value at life. Things are never 100 percent trustworthy.

Just look at me. I sign with the Saviors, I come in and win my first two matches, and now I need to fight one of the legends of the Saviors, "Godly" Ken Davison. Who saw that coming? And I'm supposed to believe this was a "random" draw, when it immediately means that one of us isn't getting out of the first round?

I'm smelling some trickery afoot.

But hey, I came to SCW to fight the best of the best, and I'd certainly say that Davison qualifies. He'll be the third straight former champion I've fought since I've got here, which makes me think that there are just a ton of former champs just sitting around here. The gold really travels, huh? Guess I'll have to make my way to a championship sooner rather than later, so I can join the pack.

So Godly, I've gotta say, I'm looking forward to this. But really, I wish it was a one-on-one contest. You see, I've never been much of a team player. I barely know anything about Seleana, and I certainly don't know Courtney Pierce, other than that she's had some luck in the Blast From The Past before. These two ladies likely hold our fate in their hands, because while I think I'm close to God-Like status myself, the imbalance may be in our partnerships.

Maybe Seleana is going to prove herself a fearsome warrior, breaking out against Courtney and stealing the pin while I'm occupied being a God-slayer. Or maybe Courtney remembers what she did 5 whole years ago and comes out swinging, knowing when to hit and run when she's got the opportunity. Really, I don't know what those ladies are going to do.

And I don't care.

For me, Godzo? I'm going to pretend they're not even in the match, because this is the chance for you and I to tear up the arena from entrance to exit, from pillar to post, from the concessions to the horrible t-shirts they're selling of guys like Milo. Now, am I going to try for some broken ribs or multiple contusions to the back of your head with a chair?

I mean, I'm not going to promise I won't, but I don't plan to. I didn't join the Saviors just to piss you all off a month in. Of course, Mac knows that I'll do pretty much anything to win a match, so... let's just say I'll try not to put you on the shelf, Kenny, if you agree to the same with me.

It's going to be a war, and maybe the ladies WILL be the ones who decide it. But I'm still going to have a blast, Kenny... there's no doubt about it.

You can trust me on that... just not 100 percent.




~The picture comes back to Vaughn and his half-brother, Thomas, as they enter into Room 122. The door begins to close, but Vaughn reaches out, catching it, keeping it open. He starts to study the door. Thomas, confused, turns towards him.~

Thomas Hill: What's with the sudden interest in doorknobs, Peter? I know you probably could put them in a pillowcase and made a hell of a weapon for a match someday, but I'd probably not recommend taking those.

Peter Vaughn: Hah. I've actually used doorknobs in a match before. It got pretty bloody. But no, that's not what caught my eye.

Thomas Hill: What is it, then? The shine? The paint job? What?

Peter Vaughn: The fact that this door is set up to lock from the outside, as soon as it closes.

~Surprised, Thomas steps forward, checking the lock. As Vaughn said, it's actually got the door settings on the outside, a unique design.~

Thomas Hill: So, what? We would have been locked in? Why would Karl Withers do that to us? It's probably just a crazy investor strategy or something, not letting us leave.

Peter Vaughn: Do you smell... gas?

Thomas Hill: I swear, it wasn't me this time.

Peter Vaughn: Not that kind of... look, nevermind. Just run. Now!

~Vaughn shoves Hill back out of the room, basically dragging the puzzled brother along with him as they go back down the hall. They get to the receptionist room.~

Thomas Hill: Where'd the cute girl go?

Peter Vaughn: Damn it. We need to...

~There's a sudden eruption down the hall, causing both men to spin around. We see a wall of flame suddenly roaring down the hallway, having erupted out of the room the two men were just in. Vaughn, reacting on instinct, shoves Thomas bodily down behind the desk, dropping with him. The flames pass overhead, thanks to the gas' natural reaction. As the fire subsides, Vaughn pulls himself up, looking around. The sprinklers have come on, putting out any residual flames. Thomas, struggling to get up, puts a hand on the desk.~

Thomas Hill: I think you dislocated my shoulder.

Peter Vaughn: I'll put it back in later. We need to get out of here.

Thomas Hill: What the hell just happened, Peter??

Peter Vaughn: He's back... I thought he'd given up.

Thomas Hill: ... WHO?

Peter Vaughn: One of my former trainers... and one of the most vile men I've ever met. Andrew Logan.

~Vaughn turns and heads for the doors, shoving them open and stepping into the light. Behind him, Thomas weakly follows, his arm clearly bothering him. We slowly fade out.~