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| That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 11 2011, 09:52 PM (105 Views) | |
| Alan Fiscus | Jan 11 2011, 09:52 PM Post #1 |
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Sadistic Solution
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"Park the car at the side of the road... You should know time's tide will smother you... And I will too." - The Smiths' That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore Scene I: Yokohama, Japan. Yokohama Arena. December 27th. 11:05 P.M. EST ~~ The scene fades in at the Yokohama Arena, moments after the December 27th edition of CZW Overdrive went off the air. It is the backstage area, near the spot where folks saw the Renegades watching a monitor during the CZW World Heavyweight Championship Fatal Four Way match. The same Renegades who were shown in the back during the match - Alan Fiscus, Sam Attic, Justin Marsham, Jesse Montana, Godzilla Sawyer, Jack Abraham - are now with other Renegades Kimo Newton and the Zodiac Thrilla as they look like they are about to start a riot. All the men are wearing the plain black sleeveless t-shirts that have become synonymous with their group. CZW and building personnel scatter in and out of the scene, as the men are attacking everything they see... obviously infuriated over the closing moments of Overdrive, where CZW Original Ace King was announced as the main event's guest referee for Extreme Insurrection: Retribution. Each man is hollering in protest, slamming their fists into the walls, kicking at chairs and tables set up, screaming at anyone who is not a member of their group who is foolish enough to get too close. The first words you can understand come from Jesse Montana's mouth, as he had just picked up a metal trash can and threw it against the wall... littering the contents all over the floor. ~~ Jesse, screaming "That damn Damage! That old fool! Bringing back that piece of garbage Ace King, just to do his dirty work! Just to give his team an 'edge'!" Zodiac Thrilla "That shit is whack, son! He walked away from the Dub, turned his back on the place... but there he is, in the devil white flesh." Alan "That's right, he turned his back on that company because he's got the heart of a little girl inside of his chest, and the emotions just got too much. He was boning that Toothless Ruth wench and things went sour, so he had to go home and cry about it! But, of course, that crowd out there is ecstatic for his return, as if he were some sort of Messiah. God Damn Jarred Daniels selling his return like he's passing a kidney stone. Yelling at the top of his lungs, like the fool he is. The 'Real' Ace King... as if someone would give a SHIT to impersonate such a failure! First that douche bag Collum, now THIS douche bag King! Derek is trying with all of his might to out fool us, to put us in check mate... he's trying to desperately save his ass, is what he's trying to do... because he knows he screwed up big time with this whole scenario. This whole Damage Control initiative, perhaps his biggest mistake to date. It's going to rape him in the ass with a cactus sooner or later, and he's trying his damnedest to make it as much later as it could possibly get." ~~ The men calm down a tad, as they all begin discussing the situation. ~~ Jack "I don't even know who this guy is, really... I mean, I've seen him on TV sure... but I don't see what the big deal is. I'm just kicking and breaking shit because I like to do it." ~~ Alan looks at Jack with a raised eyebrow, but soon followed by a sly grin. ~~ Alan "I like breaking shit too, Jack. And you know, you're right. Why the hell are we getting so worked up? Ace King... okay, he's been a two-time World Heavyweight champion... but hell, anyone can get lucky a couple of times in their life. Look at Rowan, just a few moments ago." Sawyer "Exactly. Nothing to get worked up over, nothing to stress about. Derek can throw as many obstacles as he wants in our way, and we'll bulldoze right through them. He's tricked me once, he'll never trick me again... and I can't expect any less from my fellow brethren." ~~ Alan pats Sawyer on the back. ~~ Alan "Absolutely correct, 'Zilla. Damage isn't going to get the last laugh in this war, I think we're all in agreeance on that. He's dug his own grave an extra six feet, making it twelve. I --" ~~ Just then the group turn to see someone approaching... a man on crutches, with one foot in a cast. Immediately you recognize him to be injured Renegade Edward Croft. ~~ Croft, as he approaches "Guys! Guys! Hey, I'm here! I'm finally here! I can finally join back in on the fun and games! Even though I got injured pretty bad in that match that turned out to be a lot more than I bargained for, I can still contribute!" ~~ The group just stare on Edward, a few crossing their arms. He looks puzzled. ~~ Croft "So what are you guys up to? What's the plan for next show? We gonna clobber some more of these losers?" ~~ The Renegades look at each other. ~~ Alan "Do you even know what next show is, Croft?" Croft "Yeah, it's another Overdrive, right? We gonna jump some more jabronies?" ~~ Alan looks at Jesse, who just hangs his head and shakes it. ~~ Alan "Yeah, buddy... It's another Overdrive. We're going to jump --" ~~ Alan suddenly surprises Croft with a left uppercut. ~~ Alan "YOU!" ~~ Croft falls backwards, as he gets surrounded. Kimo Newton grabs his left side crutch from him, as he falls down to the ground. Zodiac and Jack pick Croft back up, holding him by his arms. Sam Attic grabs the other crutch. Alan stands in front of him, as Zodiac forces him to look at Alan. ~~ Alan "Croft, you have always been a worthless, annoying pain in the ass since you first arrived in CZW. I only let you join us in the first place because we needed man power. But once you got yourself injured by some Japanese no names, you became expendable... and now it's quite obvious. Your services... are no longer required." THWACK! ~~ Kimo nails Croft hard across the face with the crutch, as Jack and Zodiac beginning punching away at the injured man. He is completely helpless. He falls to the ground, and Jack picks him back up. He sets him up on his shoulders, and positions him... ~~ THUD! ~~ Abraham nails Croft with a Deep Sea Drill, dropping him down on his head on the concrete. Croft is motionless, but Justin Marsham now picks him up. Justin lifts him up... Wicked Driver IV! The Zodiac Thrilla now takes his turn, lifting the barely conscious man back up... He lifts him up in a vertical suplex... and drops him down into a stunner, the Sign of the Zodiac! ~~ CRACK! ~~ Attic slams the crutch down on the back of Croft, denting and bending the crutch. He has a sick smile on his face, as does his brother Alan and Jesse Montana. Sawyer now decides to take his turn, picking up the lifeless body and body slams him hard right back onto the concrete. A group of security guards make their way onto the scene, very hesitantly trying to get into between the Renegades and the fallen Croft. Jesse puts his hands up, telling the other Renegades to back off. He looks down at Edward as the Renegades begin walking off. ~~ Jesse "Oh... and have a nice day, Croft." ~~ Jesse now follows his partners as the camera zooms in a little on the fallen Croft. He is knocked completely out, and two of the guards begin checking on him as one of the others shouts out for medical help. The scene fades out. ~~ Scene II: Tokyo, Japan. Rented Studio. January 9th, 2011. 8:53 P.M. EST ~~ The scene fades in on two men standing in front of a large silk black backdrop with a large "CZW" logo in the center of it. The man on the left is facing the black canvas, with his back to the camera. The man on the right side is shorter, older, and looking right at the camera. The man facing away is wearing a leather vest, with an embedded skull on the back, and dark red and black tights. He has dark blond hair, hanging down to his shoulders. The man facing the camera is wearing an all black suit, with small diamonds lining every edge. From first look, every CZW fan knows who these two are. The man facing away is obviously former CZW World Heavyweight champion, Alan Fiscus. The man facing the camera is the newest addition to the commentary team, and renown Renegade sympathist... the broadcast journalist, Barry "The Mind" Keenan. Almost as soon as the filming begins, Keenan addresses the camera. ~~ Keenan "Ladies and Gentlemen, I stand before you at the behest of my good friend here, to enlighten you... the humanoids... about the deep details of this coming up pay-per-view, Extreme Insurrection: Retribution. And what a fitting title that is, huh? Because Retribution is exactly what will be had on that night in Tokyo. An Insurrection, indeed. The main event... pitting the top of each faction against each other in a ten man elimination tag bout... is all about bragging rights. It's all about domination. The weakened CZW roster will send their best lambs to the slaughter against the might of Team Renegade. I mean, have you seen their team? Are you kidding me? They may have some credentials, but they can't hold a light to the powerhouse that is the Renegades. They are the real deal. And I don't mean that Rob Wright reject... he's the Real DRUG Deal. CZW has a misfit pairing of drunks and circus freaks. The Renegades have the Epitome of Technical Finesse, Justin Marsham. One of the most skilled wrestlers in the whole world. They have the former CZW President, and one of the greatest minds in the business... A former CZW World champion, The Sensation, Jesse Montana. Back to 100%. They have the longest reigning CZW World T.V. champion, one of the hardest working men in the sport, the powerhouse Godzilla Sawyer. They have a former CZW X-Division champion and one of the most unpredictable people I have ever met... Psycho Sam Attic. A superb athlete. And we have his older brother... the man that stands next to me, right now. One of the most brilliant people I know, and one of the deadliest men on the planet. He is the longest reigning CZW World Heavyweight champion to date. He is the One Man Riot... The Sadistic Solution... Alan... F'N... Fiscus. Tell them, big man!" ~~ Keenan pats Alan on the back as he slowly turns to his left, until he's facing the camera. He is wearing no shirt underneath his vest. A serious look on his face, and eyes bugging out with intensity. He stares at the camera for a few seconds before he speaks. ~~ Alan "Today... January 9th, 2011... marks the three year anniversary of the Combat Zone Wrestling promotion. Three long, hard years of ups and downs... happiness and tragedy. Many faces have come and gone, many changes have been made, many accomplishments reached. The company has come along way from it's first show in Rochester, New York... where one of my good friends was crowned the first ever CZW World Heavyweight champion. Back when the theme song of the company was one of the stupidest and worst decisions ever, in a retarded Nickelback song. Back then when the likes of Ryan Konkers, Adam Swinger, and some douche bag named Drake were contracted. Pathetic 'D' rate quality of talent. The bottom of the barrel. But not all of the CZW roster at that time were complete wastes of time, at least, not in everyone's mind. People like El Pablo... Tim Timmons... and Caleb Walker were there, and are still here... well, in one way or the other. Some have came and gone, and came again. Ian Chadwick... Total Mayhem. And Ace King. I was there, that night, when you debuted for the CZW. I knew right then and there, you were going to be nothing but trouble... and never reach your supposed potential. Our paths crossed now and then, and I seem to recall kicking your gamblin' ass every time. But over time, you did impress... and you did succeed. You became a two-time CZW World Heavyweight champion. You waged war with the likes of Matt Stylez and Matt Covey. You did your little soap opera with Ruth, and then you took your ball and went home. Retired from the business. All washed up. No fight left inside. You had lost your inspiration, and your smile. Well, boo fuckin' hoo. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the damn kitchen I say. Good riddance. But now... here we are. You come back to the CZW, in a lame fashion perhaps, but back indeed. You're a Derek Damage stooge. A hired gun, to ensure victory for CZW in Tokyo. You're the special guest referee. But you're not special. You're not special at all. And I'm telling you right now, King... if you screw the Renegades in any way, shape or form... I'm going to send you right back out on your ass, NEVER to be seen from again! Derek Damage thinks he has the stack decked against us, but he doesn't realize we're seeing right through his pathetic bluff. You're going to call that match right down the middle, all bias left on the outside. You're going to, or I'm going to wreck your world, son. You know who is talking to you, right? You know I ain't full of shit, Ace. You know that I can beat your ass at any given time, because I've done it before. Do your job, Ace. And do it right." ~~ Barry smiles widely, cheering Alan on with a pat on the back and a clap. ~~ Alan "Now, with that out of the way, let's talk about this main event, shall we? What a doozie it is. What a marquee match up it is. What a MASSACRE it will be. Damage, you're throwing your top guys right in with the lions... you fool. You heard the Mind here, we have the elitist team this company has EVER seen. Montana, Marsham, Attic, Sawyer, Fiscus. I mean, Jesus Christ. WHO would want to tangle with that brigade? Jesse Montana and Alan Fiscus, the top longest reigning World champions in company history. As Barry said, the longest reigning Television champion in company history in Sawyer. There's a reason the three of us had held our respective titles for as long as we did, and that is skill... technique... strength... fortitude and brains. Then you have two the top talents ANYWHERE in the world with my younger brother, Sam Attic, and Justin Marsham. That's blood. That's respect. And we're going into this match with the advantage all on our side. In Yokohama, Justin Marsham thwarted the over-hyped push of Eric Collum and beat his ass, one, two, three. The other four members of team CZW were involved in a four way over MY title, each man exhaustingly gave it their all to win the title... with the champion retaining in Rowan. What that tells me, is that you're all five wounded warriors. You're tired, you're bruised, and you're beaten up. The other four of us? Oh, we're as fresh as could be, you see. We didn't have matches last show. So having Ace in your pocket doesn't help, Derek. Not when your team is in the shambles it is. We're going to decimate them. Look at these guys, one at a time, and tell me they have a snowball's chance in hell against us. Let's start with their #1 guy, their 'champion' ... Eddie Rowan. Eddie, there's not a lot to say between us at this point that hasn't been said before. You know what I am all about.. at least, you THINK you do... and I know what you are all about. No question. We are polar opposites on one hand, but can be considered separate sides of the same coin on the other. We've been up and down the highways together and against each other, and this match here... this won't be the end of it, I'm sure. You and I, we are like the angels and the demons, completely different but unquestionably drawn to each other. We each fight for what we think is right, we each have that passion that drives us. You are the CZW World Heavyweight champion, and no matter how I stir the pot, that result is always the same. At least, for right now, it is. The fact that you defeated three of your partners in your first title defense, tells me you aren't the simple push over I always make you out to be. But you know I know that. You know it's all word game, it's all psychology. I know how dangerous you are in that ring, as you know how dangerous I am in that ring. Any edge I can get, I will take. Our personal war has been going on for a long time now. It's hard to believe that the Whole Damn Show ended almost two years ago. It's unfathomable that our epic Three Levels of Pain match was nearly two years ago. That's how deep our rivalry has become. That's how storied and chaptered it is. It's been almost two years since either one of us could call the other a friend. This ten man isn't going to end our story, as I suspect our story of war will NEVER end. Not until one of us are dead, or you pull your head out of your ass and realize you've been wrong this whole time. Either way, it's going to be a pleasure to show you up once again." ~~ Alan pauses, shifting to the next subject, as Barry lets out a short and confident laugh. ~~ Alan "Where Eddie and my rivalry is rich with history, one of his partners and I go back even further. El Pablo, the Five Star Superstar. The face of CZW, many would argue. The first Grand Slam champion. One of the quickest and most agile competitors I have ever faced. A god damn masked ballerina. It's all fun and games and shits and giggles with you, El Pablo. It always has been, and it probably always will be. Your happy-go-lucky attitude has always annoyed me to no end, and it's always gratifying when I get a chance to put a different face on your head, if only for a moment. I'd much rather see you wince in pain than smile with that arrogance you so reek of. You probably think you have this in the bag, with your best friend in the whole world being the special guest referee. It's been a long breath of fresh air to not have to see those ridiculous XTC promos for some time now, I will admit. Your tongue-in-cheek, PG-13 humor... your paragon of virtue antics... plain and right out sickening. You and I have opposed each other since way back in mid-2008. It seems like a life time ago when I revealed to the world that it was I underneath that Michael Myers mask. You, just like Eddie, will probably always be an obstacle in my way, again, until one of us dies or you finally grow up and recognize the reality of things. Behind your wretched circus costumes and acrobatics, beyond your ignorant attitude and stupid jokes, I know you are and have always been a worthy competitor. That adds to the delight when I defeat the fuck out of you, which I've done quite a few times over the years. Sure, you've had your occasional victory over me, but if you want to play teacher and add it all up... It's obvious to anyone my score is far superior to yours. You had your chance to become a two-time World champion, and you blew it. Tough luck for you, Pabs, and unfortunately the tough luck doesn't end there. Yes, I'm afraid, it's another losing streak for you. You can flip and flop all over the ring, jump through hoops, spin somersaults all day and all night, but when you match up wit for wit and skill for skill with me, the odds will always be against you. You can wear your pink masks, your blue masks, your red masks, your white masks, any damn color of mask you want... you can bring all the flamboyance in the world with you, and it's not going to change the facts. And after I beat your ass once again, tell your little female friend Cristal that if she wants to finally ditch the zero and get with a real hero, she can always get in line with the rest of them and hope beyond hope she'll finally get a chance to ride Fisc Mountain. She'll need to take off that ridiculous mask, however. Unless... Unless Barry here is right, and we'd rather not see what is underneath it." ~~ Barry enjoys the last line, as Alan shoots him a smirk. ~~ Alan "Eddie and El Pablo will likely always be thorns in my side. That's just how it works, unfortunately. But their third partner I'll talk about, should be right along with them with all the hype he's garnered over the years. Yet, when he should have a reputation of greatness... he only has a reputation of regret. A career of mistakes. Where he should go down in the history books as one of the best champions in all of CZW, he will only be a footnote with how his first, and so far only, title reign went down. Many would say immediately that I refer to Mortius, but no... I'll get to him. Right now, I am referring to only one man. I refer to Eric Collum. Eric, so surprised to see you in the CZW once again. When I called you up to offer you a spot in the Renegades, you told me you had too busy of a schedule to be a part of it... but you assured me that once a window opened, you would be at my side fighting for the cause. I knew right away you were full of horseshit, Eric. I've had you pegged since the first moment I laid eyes on you. A shit talking, arrogant opportunist. An ego the size of Texas. Where as that could be very well said about me also, what is different is that I have the skill to back it up. Where you quickly sell out to the corporate monster, where you have no shame NOR spine, I am almost always in the revolution side of things. Where I wear the suit... the suit wears you. I'm not sure what Derek said or did to get you to come back to his team, and I couldn't care less. You are not the athlete you think you are, you are not the threat you've always thought you were. You don't measure up to Eddie Rowan or El Pablo, and deep inside you have to know this. I had always thought... right when this thing was starting up... that you would be on my team a lot surer than Jeran would be. But lo and behold, I was mistaken. Where Ra is a man of his word, where Ra is a man I can respect... you are a piece of trash that should have stayed in the garbage disposal where you belong. Right alongside Gregory Grantham, perhaps the worst piece of scum that has ever existed. You do not now... nor ever... impress me, Collum. Behind the over-the-top antics and themes, I see you for what you really are... and that is a lost child, always needing reassurance and attention. One of these days we will face each other one on one... and amazingly, it will be for the first time ever. A dream match, many would say... but I could not agree with that. You don't muster up to my level of stardom, Eric, and you never will. You are a has been. You might have meant something in early 2009, but you mean absolutely JACK SHIT now. Just like Ace King, you are here simply to try to relive and re-capture that fame you had oh so briefly. You are here to relish in the cheers of the masses, and cement your name in history... and you will, albeit at my hand and not in the manner you wish. You will go down in history, rest assuredly... but it will be as one of the many who were absolutely crushed and destroyed by the One Man Riot. We will have a singles match some day, I can almost guarantee it... but until then, this ten man will have to suffice. Obviously, where I might have just a sliver of respect for Eddie and Pablo.. and to a lesser extent Mortius and Buzzsaw... I do not have that sliver when it comes to you.You blew your chance to be a companion, you blew your chance to be a Renegade. That is the mistake that will cost you dearly in the long run. Not losing the World title when you did, not leaving the CZW when you did... no, those don't really matter at all. It's going to be the fact that not only did you turn down an offer from Alan Fiscus... something many wish for every night... but you flat out lied to me in the process. You don't disrespect me so cowardly and get away with it, Collum. It just doesn't happen that way. Pay back will always bite you in the ass, when you wrong the Sadistic Solution." ~~ Barry says twice 'You don't need him' as he continues to support Alan. ~~ Alan "You're right, Barry, we don't need him. We need Eric Collum like we need cancer. We need Eric Collum like this next guy needs another chair shot to the head. Of course, I'm moving on to the next victim in that crazed wreck of man called Buzzsaw. Mr. Famous-In-Japan himself. The Hardcore ICON he calls himself. Like he's some sort of legend or something. Like he means ANYTHING to ANYONE. Buzzsaw, I have a feeling you and I are going to get into it quite a few times before this whole thing is said and done. I have a feeling you and I are going to make each other bleed a LOT before one of us leaves CZW. It just seems like it's destined to happen, don't you agree? You are I are somewhat cut from the same cloth... but it's a cloth that was 50% quality. Where I am the fine silk, the best of the best... you are the rough edges, and the piss poor sewing job. I look at you, Buzzsaw, and it's just as obvious to me as it is to anyone with half a brain... you are not the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer. You are not the brightest light bulb sold at Home Depot. No, you have obviously been smashed in the head too many times. You have obviously lost your weight in blood. I look at your scar ridden and sorry excuse for a body, and I see a washed up... broken down... decrepit piece of SHIT. HOW you got in the World title picture in the first place is a shock to me. You belong where you were when I was champion, Buzz, and that's in the Ultraviolent division with the rest of the retards and dip shits. A division that I helped create. We've discussed it before, how we both have that hardcore in our blood. We've both been Ultraviolent-type champions many times in the past. And I've brought up the fact that where I evolved to the next stage, you are stuck at the door. This fatal four way you just lost was your foot in it, but Eddie Rowan pinning Mortius was the door slamming shut. I seriously can't figure out why you were in that match, nor can I figure out why you are in OUR match at the PPV. What, is Shawn Waters on vacation or something? Hell, Dwayne Campbell would have been a better choice. THIS is the best you have, Damage? Buzz, of all five of you miserable pricks, you are the one who has the most to prove. Where the other four... I say with a sick feeling in my gut... have been or are CZW World Heavyweight champion... you have not. Where the other four have mustered some sort of a valid reasoning to be considered for this match, your biggest achievement thus far has been beating up Matt Covey and Jakob Mayhem over and over. Matt Covey, who is even more of a washed up has been than you are, and Jakob Mayhem. Now, where that is slightly impressive... Jakob is no Renegade. When it comes down to it, I can already tell... whenever you get a shot to mean something, whenever you get a chance to step to that next level... you will fail over and over and over again. That's your fate. It is your destiny to be beaten by the likes of Jesse Montana. The likes of Godzilla Sawyer. The likes of Justin Marsham. The likes of my brother, Sam Attic. You are here to justify the best. You are enhancement talent. What some boys in the back call a 'jobber to the stars.' You come to work, you get your ass kicked, you get your paycheck, you get a six pack, and you disappear to a motel room until it's time to do it again. You ignore your family, you ignore your health, you ignore your finances, until you realize it's too late... and everything in your life equals absolute shit. I can only hope I get to kick your ass a few times before you do us all a favor and commit suicide." ~~ Barry goes 'ohh ohhh' and claps his hand, smiling at that last line. ~~ Alan "And last and MOST DEFINITELY LEAST... Mortius. The big bad Shadow of CZW. Mortius, you said it real well yourself when you called yourself a mule... but you used the wrong word. You should have said JACKASS. You were all psyched out by how easily I made you a victim. You, the big bad, the darkness... scared to death at the mere thought of Alan Fiscus. You call me your demon. And now you're saying you no longer fear me... the funny thing is, I never meant to get in your head so bad, big guy. I never meant to make you think you actually mattered that much for me to put so much effort into it. That was all you, buddy. You make it painfully obvious to anyone who has the bad luck to see one of your promos that you are nothing but a very insecure and emotional individual. You are not the gargoyle, you are not the undertaker at the funeral parlor. You have no self esteem, and when you have no self esteem... you have no business being in the same ring as me. I am everything you should fear, make no mistake about it, Mortius. I am everything you dreamed I was. I am the boogey man, I am the night stalker. I am the thing you fear the most, and even tough you painstakingly try your best to convince ANYONE... especially yourself... that that fear is gone, it is obviously not. You have to destroy me? You won't stop until I am driven right out of the CZW? Good fuckin' luck, Shadow. I do not fear you, nor will I EVER fear you. You don't come close to the false persona you put on when the cameras are rolling. You are pathetic, and you KNOW it. I didn't put that fear in you, you put it in you yourself. Because you know I am better. Because you know I can beat you any damn time I want. This new found courage is simply fool's courage. You will face your demon... you will face me, this is true... and you will get absolutely mauled in the process. You may not be afraid of the dark anymore, but it was never the dark that had a problem with you. Tell all the stories about villages and commoners and dungeons and dragons that you wish, you will always miss the point in the long run. It's obvious to me, as it is to everyone, that your World title reign was perhaps the biggest fluke in CZW history. You never beat me for the title, yet you are the one who ended my reign. That really irks me, Mortius. It really bothers me that YOU caused the end of my first World title reign in CZW. I will get some retribution, oh yes. There WILL BE an insurrection. Just like Eric, just like Buzzsaw... there will be a time when we finally face off, one on one, and all the doubts and second guessings will all make sense then. You will realize what you've realized since Horrorcore. You will know you are nowhere near the tier I am on. You will understand that you cannot grasp the excellence that naturally selected me as its host. And you will fall, like you know is your fate. Mortius... Rowan... Collum... Pablo... Buzzsaw. You five are not the best the CZW has to offer, no matter how hard Derek sold that shit to you. You five are the grunts, the necessary casualties of a war that is beyond each and every one of you. You can feed into Derek's lies, or you can know he's full of shit, it makes no difference. When You have what we used to have... when you have what we DESERVE... envy is a mighty weapon. When you have your guaranteed contracts, we are forced to get paid per appearance. Where you have health insurance, we have free clinics. It's not right, and it's definitely not fair. Not when we are so much more talented than you fucks. Not when we are champion caliber... and CZW's best is cannon fodder. You may have health insurance, so we will make sure you get to utilize it. You're going to get real familiar with your nurses and doctors before it's all said and done, count on that. You're going to know your hospitals of choice very well. That fear that Mortius is blinded with, the fear he is trying so hard to fool himself into thinking he doesn't have anymore, is the exact fear you're all about to have... and will have for the rest of your lives. This ain't no game. This isn't chess. This is real, and this is pain. You will know pain very well, courtesy of the Renegades. Count on it. See you boys on the 16th." ~~ With that Barry claps even more, before addressing the camera one last time. ~~ Keenan "That's right, humanoids. The Renegades have the best talent, ANYWHERE, and don't let some foolish thing like Damage Control confuse you. That was all a matter of circumstance and tomfoolery. A mistake that will turn out to be the biggest mistake of Derek Damage's career. You can hate it, you can like it, but make no mistake about it... you'd better learn to LOVE it, because we're... I mean, they're not going anywhere any time soon!" ~~ Barry laughs again, as Alan stares at the camera with an aggressive passion on his face. He sneers his teeth as his eyebrows scowl down, and looks like a complete mad man. The scene slowly fades to black. ~~ Scene III: Tokyo, Japan. Shiba Park Hotel's bar. December 30th, 2010. 10:35 P.M. EST. Alan's birthday. ~~ The scene fades in at the counter of the bar, which is surprisingly sparse on a Thursday night. Alan Fiscus is immediately recognized, as he is looking into a glass of wheat beer. He is wearing a faded leather jacket, dark blue jeans, combat boots and a black "Portishead" t-shirt. He is wearing a plain black baseball cap, with his hair pulled back and hanging behind his ears. He picks up the glass to his mouth, and downs the rest of the beer. He then signals to the bartender and holds up his cup. ~~ Alan, in Japanese "Betsu bakushu." ~~ The bartender nods, and takes his glass. He fills it up from a Bud Light tap until it is full, and hands it back to Alan who quickly takes another drink. He looks around the room, seeing the few mainly Japanese patrons, and has an odd look of loneliness in his eyes. Someone walks into the bar, and Alan looks up... but looks back down when he realizes it is not anyone he knows. He looks at his wrist watch, noticing that it is 10:42 p.m. He takes another drink, before a sound goes off in the right side pocket of his leather jacket. He grabs into it and pulls out a cell phone, looking at the screen first before answering. You can't hear the voice on the end. ~~ Alan "Hey. - Yeah, I'm here. - I'm at the bar. - No, no... Matt's not here, it's just me. - Alright, See you in a moment." ~~ Alan hangs up and places the phone back in the same pocket he retrieved it from. He takes another drink from his beer, as he looks across the counter at the mirror. He seems lost in his reflection, a hint of concern on his face. After a few moments, someone sits down next to him and breaks him from his trance. It's his father, Paul Allen Fiscus Jr. ~~ ![]() ~~ He pats Alan on the back, and Alan weakly smiles back to him. He looks at the bartender, points to Alan's beer, and lifts up one finger to indicate he wants what Alan is having. The bartender nods. ~~ Paul "How's it going, son? Happy birthday, man!" Alan "Thanks, dad." Paul, looking around "Well, this place isn't too lively, is it? Why'd you pick this bar? And why are you alone? I thought Sam said he'd be here." Alan "He said something came up, unexpectedly." Paul "Must be something big to stop him from celebrating his big brother's birthday..." Alan "I'm not sure what it is, I didn't pry. I'm not concerned by it, Just hope he gets it resolved. So... how was your flight?" Paul, after taking a drink from his newly arrived beer "Ah... long. I had some brat sitting behind me half the time, kicking the damn chair. About 45 minutes into that, I stood up and in as many words... stopped him from doing such." Alan, one laugh to himself "45? Damn, dad, you must be getting old... I remember when 20 minutes was too long." Paul "Well... I think you learn patience better, the older you get." Alan "Well, I do appreciate you flying all the way out here." ~~ Alan shakes his dad's hand for a moment. ~~ Paul "Sure thing, son. I'm not going to miss any more of your birthdays if I can help it. Missed too many of them as you were growing up and I was on the road so often. Well, you're 32 now. Feel any different?" Alan, after a brief silence trying to think of his words "Not really. Not physically, anyway. Mentally... could be a different story." ~~ Paul looks over to his son. ~~ Paul "What's on your mind, son?" Alan "Life, I suppose. I'm not quite sure. I'm not sure if you've noticed... but Hellena isn't around. And hasn't been around for a while now." Paul "What's going on with that?" Alan "We're taking some time a part. We don't have as much in common as we thought." Paul "Ah, that's too bad." Alan "It just makes me think. I'm not the same man I was, even a year ago. A year ago, I was with her and Frank, watching some dude have his way with a donkey. Now I'm here... alone until you showed up. You can always count on family, right?" Paul "Well, you can always count on me, anyway. Frank turned out to be a weasel, and if you and Hellena aren't meant for each other... plenty of fish in the sea. The Fiscus' don't have to look hard to find it." Alan, 'heh'ing to himself "That's a fact. I don't need them. As I grow older, I realize more and more what is right in life and what is bullshit. People... they come and go. Family... that's a bond you have until you die." ~~ Both men sit in silence for a moment, drinking their beers. ~~ Paul, changing the subject "So, any New Year's resolutions?" Alan "Sure. Beat the hell out of every CZWer that stands in my way. And before it's all said and done, I'm going to have that Choji Saiyga's ass on a stick." Paul "Ha! That NJAW World champion? Yeah, I saw your little altercation on Overdrive." Alan "Typical cocky asshole, sticking his nose in business that isn't his. He doesn't understand the... relationship that Eddie and I have. He should have kept quiet and stayed in awe of my presence." Paul "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about him. He doesn't look like much." Alan "No, he sure doesn't." Paul, raising his glass with Alan following "Here's to a new year, anyway. Happy birthday, son." Alan, in a rare sincere smile "Thanks, dad." ~~ Both men, again silent, drink from their beers. As their conversation slowly continues, the scene begins fading to black. ~~ |
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