[Peter Vaughn]

Three Weeks Ago

~The glowing embers in the distance can be seen, drifting up from the edge of the somewhat active Kilauea volcano in the Hawaii Volcano National Park. In the evening gloom, it is truly a spectacular sight, watching the smoke rise up from various vents nearby. The camera shifts to the left, away from the most active part of the volcano, as we see a small assembly of people gathered nearby. Standing at the front is a minister, dressed in very loose-fitting clothing due to the heat. He is preaching from a scripture, adding his touch to the ceremony already taking place. Standing in front of him are two individuals. One is a blonde beauty, wearing an off-the-rack wedding dress that still appears to fit her quite magnificently. The other is a man wearing a set of coveralls… with a suit and tie over them. The minister finishes his homily, then closes the Bible in front of him as he addresses the couple standing before him.~

Minister: On this momentous occasion, I will now ask the two of you the vows of holy matrimony. Ladies first, as always.

~The minister turns to the bride, who we can now see clearly is a smiling Sadie Anderson. She is blushing under the veil she’s wearing. She still appears tired after recent events, but there was nothing that was going to stop her from being here today.~

Minister: Do you, Sadie, take this man to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?

Sadie Anderson: I do.

~Sadie’s smile grows even larger as she glances over at Peter Vaughn, whose face appears to be glowing. This is because of the volcanic activity nearby, though, not because of his happiness. It’s hard, really, to read the man’s expression at this time.~

Minister: Do you, Peter, take this woman to be your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?

~Vaughn looks at Sadie for a few moments, a pause that is barely noticeable, but is there nonetheless. After a second, though, Vaughn nods.~

Peter Vaughn: I do.

Minister: Then by the power vested in me by the holy church, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.

~There’s a small cheer from behind the bride and groom, as several wrestlers and well-wishers have apparently joined the short-notice wedding party. Vaughn steps forward, meeting Sadie, with the two sharing a long kiss as the volcano gives a brief rumble. It could be the Hawaiian gods blessing this event. It could be something else. Either way, with the kiss broken, Sadie and Peter turn towards the crowd, with the minister stepping up next to them.~

Minister: What God has brought together, let no force tear asunder. Ladies and gentlemen, may I be the first to introduce you to Peter & Sadie Vaughn!

~There are more cheers as Peter and Sadie step forward, both smiling now as they greet the few guests that were able to be there. One of them is Peter’s half-brother, Thomas Hill, who had served as the best man in this surprise affair. He pushes himself forward in his wheelchair, shaking Peter’s hand.~

Thomas Hill: Congratulations, Peter. I’m so happy for you.

Peter Vaughn: Thank you, Thomas.

Thomas Hill: As for you, sis, welcome to the family!

~Thomas grabs at Sadie’s arm, as she laughs and leans over to give him a hug. Peter watches the two members of his family embrace, as he turns away, looking over towards the lava pit nearby. His expression again fades into a blank look, as we slowly fade away from the happy scene.~


Looks like someone put a ring on it, doesn’t it?

I admit, it’s a strange sensation for me, now being a married man. I never believed it was possible for someone like me. But that’s where I am now… and where you’re going to be in a few months, HB.

Sorry I got my wedding in first. It was very spontaneous, trust me.

I know you and Milo are planning to be very happy together, HB, and I also know that you’re probably interested in a taste of revenge after, y’know, I knocked you out with chloroform. Also, there’s the fact that I beat your man senseless and denied him my Internet Championship. So maybe you see this little contrived Golden Briefcase match as your chance to pay me back. But I’m going to tell you right now, HB: Don’t bother.

You don’t stand a chance against me. You and I both know it.

I’ve beaten you in singles matches. I’ve taken you down in tag-team matches. I even knocked you out to pin you when you had your best possible partner: Milo. The odds have never been in your favor against me.

Let’s face it, the only person given greater odds than you in this one is Artie. Nobody’s betting on that boyo.

So will a multi-man chaos match be any better for you? I guess if you had a deceitful bone in your body, maybe. But you and Milo… you’re good men. You wouldn’t even beat the crap out of each other when ordered to. I suppose I can respect that. But it also means that you probably won’t take advantage of the moment when I’m distracted, and that’s really your only opportunity to win.

Don’t even try for the gold, HB. It’s not your color. Stick to Milo Blue.


Two Weeks Ago

~We come back to find Peter Vaughn sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. He’s looking uncharacteristically nervous, his legs struggling to stay in place as he rocks back and forth. Vaughn tries to distract himself by looking around the room, and his eyes lock onto a small boy sitting nearby, staring at him. Vaughn returns the look, then gives the kid a patented smirk.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, kid. Recognize me, I take it?

Kid: … MOOOMMMM!!!!

~The kid immediately jumps from his chair and runs off, as Vaughn, surprised, stands up. Thankfully, the kid’s mother was just coming out of the restroom. She moves over, catching the running kid and picking him up, with the kid sobbing in her shoulder. She looks over, glaring at Vaughn, before turning and leaving the waiting room, as Vaughn can only shrug helplessly.~

Peter Vaughn: But I didn’t DO anything!!

~The other people waiting simply ignore the scene, as Vaughn shakes his head. Behind him, the door opens.~

Dr. Fisher: Are you causing trouble in my waiting room again, Mr. Vaughn?

Peter Vaughn: Dr. Fisher!

~Vaughn turns, seeing the older doctor walking towards him with a smile on his face. Vaughn shakes his hand, before turning back to the doorway where the woman left with her child.~

Peter Vaughn: I swear, all I said was hello…

Dr. Fisher: I’m sure it will be alright. C’mon, let’s go inside so we can talk about what’s bringing you here today.

~The two men head into one of the diagnosis rooms, with Vaughn opting to sit in the chair instead of up on the raisable bed. Dr. Fisher takes note of that, before moving to the other chair in the room. He grabs his clipboard and pen to take notes if needed.~

Dr. Fisher: So you said on the phone that you wanted a physical to… check something? Have you been feeling pain in any particular place? Or been fatigued?

Peter Vaughn: No, it’s nothing like that, doctor. You see… I got married last week.

~The doctor drops his pen, fumbling it, before managing to get it back.~

Dr. Fisher: You? Really?? Well, congratulations, Mr. Vaughn! It was that lovely Ms. Anderson, wasn’t it?

Peter Vaughn: Yes, it was her. She’s… pregnant.

~This time, the doctor just sits his entire clipboard to the side.~

Dr. Fisher: Wow. Well… I suppose double congratulations are in order. You’re going to be… a father?

Peter Vaughn: That’s just it, sir. I… don’t know if I am. You see… it’s probably hidden in your files, but many years ago, I was told that my exposure to certain chemicals had all but made me… infertile. They said that there was almost zero chance that I could ever have children.

~Dr. Fisher’s eyes widen, and he turns, going to the computer this time. He types up Vaughn’s file to take a look at it, as Vaughn keeps talking.~

Peter Vaughn: I had come to accept that diagnosis, doctor. I had accepted it. But now… my new wife is pregnant. And I… I need to know…

Dr. Fisher: … that it’s yours?

~Vaughn takes a moment before nodding. Dr. Fisher reads through the notes on Vaughn’s chart, looking a little puzzled.~

Dr. Fisher: Well, I’ll tell you this, Mr. Vaughn. I do see a few notes about this in your file, but there are no test results pinned to it. That makes me a little critical of those results. I certainly think there’s no harm in doing an additional series of tests. Does this sound like a good idea?

~Once again, Vaughn just nods. So Dr. Fisher gets up, looking around in the cabinets, before handing Vaughn a plastic jar with a lid on it. Vaughn takes it, suddenly puzzled.~

Peter Vaughn: What’s this for?

Dr. Fisher: What do you think? We should obviously start with you first, before we ‘trouble’ your wife with this. So I’m going to need… a sample.

Peter Vaughn: … Oh…

Dr. Fisher: The restroom’s right down the hall.

~More than a little thrown off, Vaughn gets up, walking slowly to the door. He stares down at the jar, as if wondering if it’s worth it. He looks at the doctor again, who has a sympathetic grin.~

Dr. Fisher: You want to know, right?

Peter Vaughn: … No. But I do NEED to know.

~With that, Vaughn heads out the door, disappearing down the hall. The doctor sighs, knowing that this could be trouble, as we fade out.~


Mysteries can drive a man into the depths of insanity if he’s not careful.

For instance, there’s the mystery of who this Entity really is. I’ve wrestled numerous guys who have liked to keep their identities hidden from the world. The Lost Soul. The Masked Stranger. El Diablo Blanco. Usually, I don’t give a damn. Keep your secrets. But I have to say, you’re intriguing me, Entity.

You see, I used to wear a mask just like yours when I was on the… unstable side. The folks here at Sin City have been lucky they haven’t seen that side of me. I’m rather pleased I’ve left it in the past, to be honest. I much prefer the way I wrestle now, more in… control. But that mask DOES give you that feeling of anonymity, doesn’t it? It gives you the power to be something you’re not, whatever that something might be.

I don’t need that feeling anymore. I suppose you do.

It doesn’t change the fact that I’m considering you a major threat in this contest, Ent. I watched as you took down Goth, my Saviors ally. From that day, I’ve always known that we’d meet at some point, and apparently that date has been fixed. I finally will be able to get my hands on you and see what makes you tick.

I might see what color your blood is, too. It depends on how crazed this contest really gets.

You’re going to be a focus for me, Ent. I’m going to try to take you out of the equation any way I possibly can. Because, let’s be honest: you’re a wildcard that I don’t want to have to deal with at the last minute.

I mean, Artie’s kind of a wildcard, too, but he’s more of the Joker variety: a card that will never win anything.

But you look too talented for me to look the other way as we begin.

I’m going to have to break something early.

But don’t worry. While I’m perfectly willing to maim you to get you out of the way in my quest for that Golden Briefcase, I have no intention of trying to unmask you. That’s your secret to keep, and I’d never try to force a reveal from you. You can shock the world with your identity in your own time, wherever you want.

Perhaps after the weeks of recovery pass.


One Week Ago

~We now see Peter Vaughn and his new wife, Sadie Anderson Vaughn, making their way out of the Denver airport. Vaughn is carrying both suitcases and both backpacks, with Sadie shaking her head as she walks behind him.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: I could really carry one of those, Peter, you don’t have to do everything…

Peter Vaughn: No, no, you’re pregnant. You’re not supposed to do heavy lifting.

Sadie A. Vaughn: It’s a little early to worry about something like that, dear.

Peter Vaughn: It’s never too early to be safer than sorry…

~Sadie smiles, touched at Peter’s gesture, even if it is a bit misplaced. They get the next cab that’s waiting, with the driver helping Peter put everything in the trunk. They then get in.~

Cab Driver: Where to, friends?

Peter Vaughn: The Four Seasons, please.

~The driver nods and pulls away, as Sadie looks over at Peter, surprised.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: The Four Seasons? Isn’t that horribly expensive?

Peter Vaughn: I wouldn’t say it was cheap, no…

Sadie A. Vaughn: Then why there? We always stay at the budget hotels, don’t we? Was there a problem finding a room?

Peter Vaughn: No. I’m sure there were other rooms. But… it’s what you should have, right? You and the baby?

~Sadie covers her mouth with her hand, but it doesn’t hide the fact that she’s laughing. Vaughn’s eyebrows constrict in a slight show of annoyance.~

Peter Vaughn: What’s funny about that? I’m doing what I’m supposed to do… right?

~The hand can’t contain the laughter anymore, as Sadie leans forward, grabbing onto Peter’s shoulder as she lets it out.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Ah hah hah!! I’m sorry, Peter, but… why do you think anything’s got to change in how we work together?

Peter Vaughn: Well, because… because we’re married, And you’re expecting…

Sadie A. Vaughn: In eight months or so, yes. But you don’t have to treat me like some priceless artifact now. We can still stay at the smaller hotels. I’d rather save our money anyways.

Peter Vaughn: Are you sure? I thought… well, I thought things would need to be… grander…

Sadie A. Vaughn: You don’t have to buy me off, Peter. You’ve already got me, remember?

~Sadie shows off the ring on her finger, a brilliant diamond ring that Vaughn paid a pretty penny for. Vaughn looks at it, considers her words, and then turns to the driver.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me, sir. Slight change of plans. Can you take us to a Best Western? Thanks.

~The driver shrugs, not minding the ability to extend the trip, as Vaughn settles back next to a smirking Sadie. His phone chirps, catching his attention. He takes out his phone, looking at it, as Sadie glances up in curiosity.~

Sadie A. Vaughn: Who is it?

Peter Vaughn: It’s just Thomas, making sure we made it in.

Sadie A. Vaughn: Tell him hi for me.

~Vaughn nods, before glancing at the screen again. This time, we can see the text that has come in, from a hospital number. It reads rather simply: “Mr Vaughn, your test results have come in. Please make an appointment with Dr. Fisher’s office.” Vaughn reads the text a few more times before closing his phone and looking out the window.~

Peter Vaughn: Have you ever been to Garden of the Gods? It’s not far from here…

Sadie A. Vaughn: Tell me more…

~As Vaughn keeps talking about the park, we cut away from the cab, leaving Denver behind.~


I suppose the more things change, the more things should stay the same.

I have a ton of changes going on in my life, but there IS one thing I’m confident on: I’m still better than Rodrigo Afonso. Hey, Hot Rod! Long time no see. Remember when I rammed your head repeatedly into that junkbox while “Don’t Stop Me Now” was playing? And a little bit later, I dropped you with the Keyholder onto broken glass? Does it ring a bell?

How about at High Stakes 13, when I had to put you in an STF submission because you were just too covered in blood for me to use my Crossface? Or how you watched your dreams of taking my Roulette Title go up in smoke as  I made you pass out in a triangle choke?

Actually, it wouldn’t surprise me if you don’t remember that. Short-term memory loss would be rather common in that situation, I would think.

But even though I kicked your ass on a few occasions, Roddy, I know you’ve had a little success since then. In fact, you have a Golden Briefcase already, don’t you? So why are you in this match for another one? Or… wait…

Is this YOUR Golden Briefcase we’re competing for?

That’d be a kick, if Guy decided to force you to have your briefcase up against some of the best in the business. But truthfully, I don’t really know if this is yours, or if you’re getting a chance to double up. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. I mean, the results are going to be the same.

I’m likely going to make you eat that skateboard again.

I mean, it’s not out of malice. I really have nothing against you. Really, I don’t have problems with most of the people in this match. Many, like you and Artie, I couldn’t give a damn about. If I had my way, I’d never be getting in the ring with you again, and I’m certainly not thrilled to be facing Artie even once. The guy should have stuck with being with Bobbie, and left the wrestling to her.

But I digress.

It’s really just your own damn bad luck, Rods, that you keep ending up in these insane matches with me, even when the Roulette wheel isn’t involved. I mean, that spinner hung you out to dry twice, and now a random Golden Briefcase match against me? You should really fire your agent. He or she is not doing you any favors.

So what will it be this time? A blockbuster off the ladder? A Revenged through a table? Or will I be giving you the ultimate Plunge? I suppose we’ll see. Hey, in a match like this, you can always hope that someone else takes you out beforehand. Depending on who it is, that might be the best option for you.

Live to skate another day, right?

That said… if this IS your briefcase… take this one piece of advice from me. Come out at the beginning of the night and attack someone and cash in, because it’s going to be your very last chance to use it, boyo.


Three Days Ago

~We find ourselves in the diagnosis room once again, as Vaughn is now anxiously pacing back and forth, ignoring both the bed and the chair entirely. He rubs at the back of his head, looking frustrated at having to wait this time. We hear the chirp of his phone once again, with Vaughn taking a look at the message from Sadie, asking where he’s at. He sends a brief response back: “At the gym. Be back home later.” Vaughn then puts the phone back away, as the door finally opens and Dr. Fisher steps in.~

Dr. Fisher: Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Vaughn. A boy came in with a nose that just wouldn’t stop bleeding, so he had to take priority. You’d know something about bloody noses, wouldn’t you, he he…

~Vaughn doesn’t laugh with him, as he simply waits for Dr. Fisher to continue. Sensing his intensity level, Dr. Fisher immediately gives up on the joking manner and heads over to the computer to pull up the test results.~

Peter Vaughn: Come straight with me, doctor. I can take it.

Dr. Fisher: Well, Mr. Vaughn, we finished all of the tests. First off, let me assure you that you are in very good condition for a man of your age. Our tests showed that despite your earlier cause of worry, you are actually in perfect working order. I would say the odds are extremely high that your wife is, indeed, carrying your son.

~For a moment, Vaughn looks like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He then steps forward, a huge smile on his face, as he grabs the doctor around both shoulders.~

Peter Vaughn: That’s it? That’s what I’ve been worrying about all week?? Doctor, that’s GREAT news! You couldn’t have just texted that to me, instead of making me come in?? Sheesh!!

~Despite his complaints, Vaughn is still grinning, his relief obvious in his stance. He completely misses that Dr. Fisher’s still got a slightly grave look on his face, as Vaughn steps back away, taking a seat for the first time.~

Peter Vaughn: I didn’t even know what to tell Sadie. I told her I was at the gym! Hah! I guess I’m going to have to go work out…

~Vaughn takes a deep breath, letting it out, as Dr. Fisher sits forward in his own chair.~

Dr. Fisher: Mr. Vaughn… Peter… there’s more we need to talk about.

~Finally noticing his doctor’s face, Vaughn straightens up slightly, his smile faltering.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh? You said… you said it’s my child, right?

Dr. Fisher: Most likely it is, although we haven’t tested genetics, since your wife hasn’t been involved. But we did test you, Peter… and we found some abnormalities.

Peter Vaughn: Abnormalities?

Dr. Fisher: I’m afraid so. They showed up during our tests.

Peter Vaughn: Okay. So… what does that mean?

Dr. Fisher: It might mean nothing, Peter. But it does raise possibilities that we can’t ignore. Your child may very well be born perfectly healthy. But there are signs we are going to have to watch out for, that might signal… unavoidable problems. I’m afraid it’s going to be a waiting game…

~Vaughn is quiet, thinking over what the doctor has just told him. He then looks back at him, his fighting stare already in his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: Then let’s go over what we’re going to have to beat, doc.

~Dr. Fisher clears his throat, knowing that some things can’t be defeated by sheer willpower. But Vaughn has never met something that he couldn’t take down, and in his mind, this will be no different. We cut away again.~


I’ve found in life that the Boogeyman can be real.

Many would consider J2H in that category. He’s been an absolute beast in Sin City, no doubt. He’s taken me down in the past, a feat that not too many people here can say, and he did it without any interference or trickery. It would have been nice if he had slipped on a banana peel during the match, but it didn’t go down that way, did it? So yes, if anyone is the favorite to walk away with that Golden Briefcase, it’s J2H.

But there are other factors than just pure talent. There’s the factor of determination.

As in, will J2H actually WANT to get the Golden Briefcase?

Let’s face it. I used to have a lot more respect for J2H. Even when I was getting inserted into his feud with Alexander Raven as a ‘side piece’, forced to fight both of them, I still knew that J2H was a dominating force that would have to be taken out of my way if I wanted to gravitate to my next World Championship run. I was thinking that, if I could take him out, I’d be well on my way to claiming another major title.

But J2H managed the right move at the right time, and he got the win. And then he walked away from the World Title.

I’ve still not found a way in my heart to forgive him for that. The belt had already taken some hits from Michael Harris’ departure after losing to HB Carter. But it seemed like it was going to recover with J2H reclaiming it. Imagine my shock when J2H gave the belt up just due to a lack of competition, RIGHT AFTER WRESTLING ME.

To say it was discouraging would be an understatement.

If I was to point to anything that led to my brief confidence issues earlier this year, it was you, J2H. But I’ve put all that behind me now, because I’ve come to realize the exact truth of the situation: you didn’t want to be labeled a loser. Maybe you saw something in my wrestling style, or maybe it had nothing to do with me at all, I don’t know. But the fact that you vacated the belt rather than lose it? It showed vulnerability.

A vulnerability that I think everyone in this match is going to want to exploit.

You’re the one I’m most looking forward to, J2H. You’re the one I want to get my hands on. Because you have a lot to answer for, mister. You’re the Boogeyman that needs to be put down once and for all, and I think I’m the man that can do it. I’m going to do my damnest to make sure you don’t end up with that briefcase, because NOBODY wants to see you at the top anymore. Nobody wants to see you challenging for a belt that you might just drop anyway.

Nobody wants history to repeat itself.

So even if it means I end up costing myself that shot, I’m still going to make my main goal denying you the briefcase. I’ll get there on my own eventually. Finn and Sean know that I’m coming. I just need to make sure that you aren’t the one, J2H. You don’t deserve to be the one.

Maybe I’ll toss the briefcase to Artie as a lark. Wouldn’t that be funny? Seeing Artie try and cash in? I could see it. But Artie would probably miss the hook and fall off the ladder. Still, I’d rather see that than J2H making that climb.

And the look on J2H’s face would be absolutely priceless.

Well, whether that happens, or I just take the victory myself, it won’t matter. All that I care about is that we don’t have the dread of J2H holding that briefcase over Sin City like a mad god. It’s time for him to be wiped out.

Just call me The God Killer. The Boogeyman Eraser. The Bane of J2H.

It’s time J2H finally takes the Plunge.


Today

~We now find ourselves back in the Garden of Betrayal, one of Vaughn’s long-time hangouts. He’s sitting quietly in the pavilion near the center of the garden, staring at a screen that appears to hold a letter he’s writing to Sadie. We don’t get much of a look at it, though, as the cameraman makes his way in.~

Cameraman: Mr. Vaughn?

~Vaughn slams the laptop shut, leaping to his feet, startling the cameraman, who nearly falls backwards. Vaughn turns his way, putting a big, straining smile on his face.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey there, guy. Haven’t seen you since Hawaii. We missed you at the wedding.

Cameraman: … I was invited?

Peter Vaughn: Nope. But that doesn’t usually stop you, does it?

Cameraman: I, uh, I guess not. So, did you want to give some final statements for your Golden Briefcase match?

Peter Vaughn: Sure.

~After one more glance back at the laptop, Vaughn steps out into the sunlight, focusing himself before looking at the camera lens.~

Peter Vaughn: I’m looking at this match in three tiers. First, you have the opening tier: Artie. As a favor to Bobbie, I’ll tell you this: you should really stay in the back. You’ve been warned. That’s all I have to say about you.

~Vaughn extends two fingers.~

Peter Vaughn: Tier two is HB and Rodrigo. Guys with talent who are still not deserving of top-tier status. Sure, you can manage miracles, just see HB pinning Harris and Rodrigo getting that briefcase. But I wouldn’t count on miracles in Colorado Springs, boyos.

~A third finger comes up. Coincidentally, it’s the middle one.~

Peter Vaughn: The third tier is J2H and The Entity, the ones I see as the biggest targets. These are the guys that I’m going to take out. The longer they can stay in the Penalty Box, the better, even if I have to duct tape that door closed. I’m going to do everything in my power to eliminate them from the competition, or else I know they’ll just eliminate me.

~After a moment, Vaughn puts all his fingers down… leaving only a thumbs up.~

Peter Vaughn: And finally, there’s me, the Internet Champion… and the soon-to-be Golden Briefcase holder. If these guys aren’t coming into this match seeing me as the most dangerous foe, well, they’re fools. Damned fools. And I’m going to make them pay for any poor conceived notions of me, as I walk away victorious. Bring them all on. It’s time The Mechanic proves that he belongs on the top tier, now and forever.

~With that, Vaughn drops the thumb, clenching into a fist. He smiles, then swings right at the camera lens. The cameraman, startled, falls backwards to the ground. Vaughn appears over him, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: Too much?

~As Vaughn stares downwards, the image fades out.~