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Fifty Shades of Greenhouse; EP RP OMFGIJSIMPISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Topic Started: Aug 2 2012, 11:18 PM (98 Views)
El Pablo
Member Avatar
VIVA LA RAINBOWLUTION!!!

The scene opens on darkness; thick.. cold.. impenetrable.. with no clue or sensory signal whatsoever given to offer even the merest hint of present location or circumstance. This barren state lingers for several moments, until, suddenly, the silence is shattered by a loud, industrial “thud“, echoing out from the abyss and causing even the most casual of observers to jolt somewhat in their seat. This thud, as well as breaking what had up to this point been a pure and perfect silence, also signals the breaking of the darkness painted on the screen in front of us, as the following text snaps into view in thick, bright white letters:

September 7th 2011

As soon as they appear, the words begin to fade, as if being decayed and eroded by the toxicity that surrounds them. Darkness once again reigns supreme, until another “thud” bursts forth a split-second later…

The GCW Colosseum

Again, the text fades out, replaced a moment later by another “thud” and another new title…

GCW Ground War

Once more, the text fades into the darkness. This time, there are no more thuds.. no more words. Instead, the darkness slowly begins to dissipate, the screen gradually filling with more and more light, and beginning to give us a glimpse of what appears to be a large indoor parking lot, constructed almost entirely out of cold, dirty-grey concrete. As the darkness from the first screen is completely removed, our attentions quickly focus on a commotion over at the far end of the lot, where a small group of uniformed men and women approach at speed a woman kneeling beside a figure laying prone on the ground. The camera moves forward towards the group, and as it does so, it soon becomes apparent that the figure on the floor is “The Five Star Superstar” El Pablo; although, not as the majority of people watching right now would wish to recognize him. His clothes are tattered.. his body contorted.. and of the skin currently exposed to the cold, autumnal air of the parking lot, an uncomfortably-large percentage is covered in either blood, bruises, or a combination of the two. A single arm is raised off the concrete floor; however, this is not of EP’s own volition, rather it is through the concern of the woman - a member of the GCW production crew - who has the Five Star Superstar’s hand clutched inside her own. The uniformed people - obviously medical staff - quickly set down their equipment, and immediately begin looking over the stricking and apparently unconscious Pablo.

EMT 1: What happened?

EMT 3: Pablo? Pablo? Can you hear me?

CREW MEMBER: I.. I dunno. I was just packing my things into my car, getting ready to leave.. and I saw him staggering through the parking lot.

EMT 1: Was he alone?

CREW MEMBER: Yeah, he was alone.. just kinda dragging himself along the walls. I went to ask if he was okay, but then he just.. collapsed!

EMT 1: You didn’t see anyone else around?

CREW MEMBER: No, I swear! I mean.. I dunno if he was trying to come after someone.. I can’t even imagine…

Suddenly, the discussion is interrupted by a desperate, horrified scream echoing across the parking lot from off-camera.

FEMALE VOICE: PABLO!!!!!

The sound of footsteps can be heard charging across the floor, growing louder and more intense until suddenly Cristal bursts into shot, only to be suddenly lurched backwards by Krimzon Blaze, who grabs her around the waist.

EMT 1: Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to keep a distance!

CRISTAL: Pablo!!

EMT 1: Ma’am, please!

KB: Cris, come on! That’s her boyfriend, doc…

EMT 1: I understand that, but you need to give him some space right now while we take a look.

CRISTAL: Pablo, please!!!

As KB and EMT 1 attempt to calm Cristal down, one of the EMTs on the floor reaches for the walkie-talkie attached to his shoulder.

EMT 2: This is EMT 2; we’re gonna need vehicular assistance in Parking Lot 3.. Repeat, vehicular assistance, Parking Lot 3!

This development does not help ease Cristal’s distress, as she sinks to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. KB moves round in front of her, and pulls her into him in an embrace in an attempt to comfort her. The screen slowly begins to fade back into darkness, as a familiar voice begins to speak over the top of the action; a voice that will immediately send a shiver down the spine of a great many people watching at this moment…

“El Pablo was given everything. A fan base that still stands by his side, money coming out of every orifice he could ever know and some he even doesn’t... I never liked Paul and I won’t act like I did. I don’t believe the hype. They claim him one of the best... I am the best in the world, and El Pablo was just another statistic. He stood for every last thing we’re standing against, and is now laying in a hospital bed.

This time, Paul.. You WILL STAY.. THE FUCK.. DOWN!!!”


The words of Ryan Shane echo into the abyss as the screen finally returns to black.

----------*****----------

After a few moments, the darkness filters away, bringing us into what appears to be a small television studio. The walls are covered almost completely by posters of various wrestling personalities from various promotions and points in history all over the world, with virtually the only break in pattern being provided by a large royal-blue curtain that hangs in front of what presumably constitutes the back wall of the room. Upon this curtain are written the letters "UKWR" in big block distorted style, accompanied directly beneath by the smaller, explanatory legend, "UK Wrestling Review".

Just in front of this curtain is a large black leather sofa, and it is upon this sofa that the camera's focus falls; specifically, the lone figure currently sat upon it, sipping from a strategically-unbranded bottle of clear liquid. From the aquamarine-carpeted floor up, this figure wears white Vans with rainbow-coloured decoration; baggy black jeans; a predominantly-white t-shirt that features a large pink and black spraypaint-style star in the bottom left corner, with five smaller black stars running along its rightmost "arm", and an open black vest - also with five rainbow-coloured stars stitched upon it. Their face is concealed beneath a black lucha mask decorated in similar fashion to the rest of the ensemble around the trim, with only the mouth, chin and eye sockets visible.

After a few moments, this figure is joined on the couch by another man, rather less athletic-looking and dressed more casually in a simple jeans and t-shirt combination. This second man holds a few sheets of paper in his hand, suggesting that he is the host of whatever broadcast we are set to bear witness too. The camera watches on from the corner of the room as the two men engage in inaudible conversation, before the sudden blaring of a generic "metal/hard-rock" song through the speakers cues a switch in camera angles to one situated right in front of the couch.

HOST: Hello there, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to.. well, to say this edition of UK Wrestling Review is historic is pretty much the understatement of the millenium so far! Simply put.. we have an EXCLUSIVE.. no-holds-barred.. first-in-almost-one-whole-calendar-year interview.. with a bona-fide modern professional wrestling legend!

Some of you folks out there know him as the Furry Ninja.. some of you know him as the Flying Squirrel.. some of you may even know him as the feather boa’d, multi-coloured, high-flyin', spot-applyin', show-stealin', mask-wieldin'.. DON’T MESS WITH HIM OR YOU’LL FACE HIS SQUIRRELY WRAAATTTTTHHHHHH...

..ladies and gentlemen, professional wrestling's one and only TRUE "Five Star Superstar", El Pablo is here!


The masked figure - yeah, no shit it's EL FUCKING PABLO - thrusts his arms into the air as he reclines back against his arm of the sofa, fists clenched tight.

EL PABLO: YAYYYYY!!!!!

HOST: Thankyou so much for doing this for us, EP.. it's an absolute honour to have you here with us today!

EL PABLO: Happy to do it, buddy!

The host offers a handshake, which EP heartily accepts.

HOST: So, I guess there's really only one place to start... Where the fuck have you been!?

EP smiles at the exclamation in the host's voice, nodding his head slightly as he gazes down into the middle distance.

EL PABLO: It has been a while...

HOST: It really has! Last time you were seen by any kind of "audience" must've been, what, September last year?

EL PABLO: September 7th, I believe.

HOST: Right, when you were the victim of.. just a brutal assault by the group that was soon to be christened DXM, spearheaded by one Ryan Shane, who, of course, you're gonna be facing in your return match this Sunday at Kingdom Come.

EP suddenly leans forward and thrusts a finger in the direction of the camera, his trademark cheesy grin on his face.

EL PABLO: August 5th, CZW.com!

HOST: Hell yes, and don't you fucking dare miss it!

EL PABLO: Or else Brian Blaze is gonna come to your house and shave your cat.. and then your mother.

HOST: Nice...

EL PABLO: Right up the vagina!

HOST: ...So anyway, yeah.. where have you been? What have you been up to?

EP slouches back on the sofa, and lets out a deep exhale as he runs the potential answer to the question through his head.

EL PABLO: Recovering, mostly. I was advised by the doctors on the night of the attack by DXM that, because of the beating my body had taken - not on that night, necessarily, but just generally over the past few years - there was a very real risk that I could do some serious, life-altering damage to myself if I continued working and competing at the pace and intensity that I had been up to that point.

HOST: Wow.. things were that serious?

EL PABLO: I guess, yeah. I mean.. you have to bear in mind that I'd been wrestling for near-enough four years at that point without any kind of break.. I'd been pulling off all these insane spots that anyone with the most minute semblance of consideration for their own wellbeing would almost-certainly avoid... It just got to the point where my body had taken so much punishment, and been worked to such an extent that I guess it was having trouble regenerating itself before I went out and dropped it from a height again.

HOST: Shit. Surely you must've known, or had a sense, though, that things maybe weren't right? I mean, if it was that serious...

EL PABLO: I knew that it was getting harder to get up in the mornings.. training was getting a lot more demanding without any real change in the routines... I dunno, though, you kinda just get used to being sore all the time in this business, so I guess it's not always easy to tell when your own body's getting close to the limit, as it were.

HOST: Was there a particular point in time you can look back at where you think, "That was the point I hit the wall"?

EL PABLO: I think.. the Underground Championship show was probably the point...

HOST: This was EWA, right?

EL PABLO: Yeah.

HOST: May 17th 2011, I remember that; where you came off the column onto Xavier Reid to take the title?

EL PABLO: That's the one! And that, I think, is one of only.. two moments, where I look back at them now and think, "What a fucking stupid idea that was!".

HOST: Just two?

EL PABLO: Haha.. well, there's probably lots of times where a move hasn't come off or I've fucked up something inside myself by taking a bigger risk than necessary, but there's been a couple of times where objectively you can just look at the situation and think, "No, you're a moron for even attempting something like that.. how exactly did you think that was gonna turn out for you!?"

HOST: I can see that, definitely.

EL PABLO: But, at least that one was kinda worth it because I ended up with the belt! The other moment that springs instantly to mind where I look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking is the Toole Shed match with Maynard O'Toole back at the first CZW reunion show. Standing on top of a scaffold, looking down into the crowd at Mayo laying out flat in the wreckage of what used to be a glass table.. and, for some inexplicable reason, I think to myself, "You know what would be a great idea here? JUMPING off this REALLY HIGH scaffold onto the CONCRETE FLOOR!!!"

HOST: I'm not following along with that thought process, I've gotta say...

EL PABLO: Right? Because you have a basic concept of what is probably NOT a good situation to inflict upon a human body. I thought I did too, but I guess I momentarily forgot or something, because - lo and behold - I jump off.. twist for the Splash.. Mayo moves and... *claps hands* ..Pablo Splat. I lost the IC Title, and to this day, I'm frankly still amazed in myself that I managed to come back from that at all, let alone go out 6 days later in Virginia for PWR and wrestle a match there!

HOST: Yeah, that was awful to watch, I'm not gonna lie.. I remember watching that show with mates round my house, and we legit thought you were dead.

EL PABLO: I probably should've been... I mean, I'm not one for quasi-religious hogwash... but, fuck.. that was some miraculous shit.

EP takes another sip of water.

EL PABLO: So, anyway, EWA...

HOST: EWA.

EL PABLO: So, we've had this big free-for-all to crown the first Underground Champion, which is basically 24-7, falls count anywhere, no holds barred, all that kind of thing. I believe Xavier Reid won the actual match, but then because it's basically "any time, any place" stipulations, he's still gotta keep hold of it for the rest of the show. So, pretty much as soon as the bell goes, he gets dropped from out of nowhere by JA Sawyer, who then spends the rest of the show essentially trying to avoid every other person on that roster! I think at one point, I was on the roof of the Colosseum with Cristal and a referee, and we'd just missed out on seeing him up there.. so, we all went back down, and we were walking through the upper floors of the arena, when suddenly I hear all this commotion going on from outside. I look out the window, and I see Reid and Sawyer duking it out way down by one of the columns. Now, obviously I wanna get in on this action, but there's no way I'm gonna make it down there in time by running, coz the Colosseum's fucking massive. So, I notice that the window I'm leaning out of is cut pretty-much right next to the big Colosseum sign, which extends almost all the way down the front of the building. Now, this is the part where - as we've discussed previously - any sane person with an interest in NOT fucking up their body and quality of life for the remainder of existence would think, "Do you know what? It's 24/7 rules; I'll just catch them at the grocery store in a couple of days!". But, alas, I am obviously a moron, so I climb on out of that window.. swing over onto the side of the sign.. climb down the side of it - I'm talking you through this like it's the easiest thing in the world! - climb down the side of it until I'm hanging down next to the column everyone's gathering around. At THIS point, I actually start thinking, "maybe this wasn't such a brilliant idea".. of course, being as I'm swinging like 30 feet up in the air, it's a little late to start bringing rational thinking to the party! Erm.. I can't even remember what I did.. I think I hooked my legs around the pillar, and kinda shimmied down.. oh, and there were all these carvings in the top of the column that gave me something to grip onto. I looked down, and saw Reid getting the pin and standing up with his belt.. and then everything's kind of a blur. I kicked off, fell for about an hour.. and the next thing I knew, I was Underground Champion!

It was, without a doubt, one of the greatest moments of my career so far.. but the next day, fuck.. I think that was when I first had a feeling that this was maybe something a little more than next-day stiffness. And, obviously, that was when my appearances started getting more sporadic.. I started missing training, missing shows, which I fucking HATE doing, but, honestly, there was just no way I could go out and put on a show worthy of any kind of audience. I'm a very "all or nothing" guy, I think anyone who knows me will know that.. I'm not someone who's just gonna go out there and half-arse it. That's always been my philosophy; whether I win or lose, I want the audience to go home knowing that they got their money's worth.. that they saw the very best of El Pablo.


HOST: And what was the response like from the people in the locker room, or from the other people at the company at the time? Because there were rumours of no-showing and going AWOL...

EP fiddles with the stitching on one of the sofa cushions, suggesting a considerable feeling of discomfort at this particular line of conversation.

EL PABLO: I didn't behave in the most professional manner, at that time... it wasn't out of malice, or anything like that, you know? I never meant to hurt, or piss off anyone.. and, I think people knew that something wasn't quite right.. so, maybe I was given more sympathy and understanding than my conduct probably deserved...

Honestly, I was completely shot mentally, in addition to all the physical stuff I was going through. Like I said before, I'd been wrestling almost non-stop for four years.. no breaks at all... and over those four years, at various points, I'd been one of the major contributers battling to keep CZW above water - twice - I'd then wound up doing much the same in EWA, only to see the company handed over to GCW, which itself never really seemed to get off the ground... it always just seemed to be a never-ending battle for survival, and when my body started failing to let me meet the expectations that I felt everyone else around me had of me, and needed me to meet.. it was hard to take.


HOST: But, I mean.. it wasn't like you weren't still a huge success personally at that point. At the time of the attack by DXM, you were the Number One Contender to the World Heavyweight Championship!

EL PABLO: Yeah, I know, but it was more than just the in-ring stuff.. and, I dunno, maybe there was just something in my mind leading me down a darker path than I was really headed, or wanted to head. Fuck, I dunno, man.. I was just done. I needed a break.. SERIOUSLY needed a break.. but with everything going on behind-the-scenes, and with my status being as it was at that time, it seemed like doing that would be the absolute worst thing to do.. like, if I took a break, would there even be a company for me to come back to?

Essentially I just got caught in this loop, where my desperation not to let my friends, my colleagues and my fans down, coupled with the condition my physical and mental states were in, all wound up making those situations so much worse.


HOST: So, moving on to that night in September; you suffer this vicious assault by Ryan Shane and DXM, and are subsequently told by medical staff that - in addition to the need to heal your immediate injuries - it's really quite important that you also allow a general recuperation of your body from all the other stuff you've been through in your career... how did you feel at that point? Were you disappointed that you were likely gonna be out for an extended period of time? Were you fearful that you might not ever come back? Or, given what you've told me about how things were for you at the time.. were you kinda relieved?

EL PABLO: I felt.. free.

As strange as it sounds, that attack was actually the best thing that could possibly have happened to me at that time.. because now, it was all taken completely out of my hands. Having been signed off from competing indefinitely, now all the pressure of keeping EWA afloat.. all the sense and the fear of letting people down.. it all evaporated in an instant, because I knew now that there was nothing I could do about any of it.


EP smiles, and even lets out a small chuckle, as the next sentence runs through his head.

EL PABLO: I know I'm gonna regret saying this.. SO much.. but, in a crazy kind of way... Ryan Shane saved me.

Now I know that's SUCH a clichéed thing to say of the straight-edged leader of a professional wrestling movement, and a downwright bizarre thing to say of Ryan Shane considering the context in which the two of us are gonna find ourselves this Sunday night.. but it's true. Had he and his goons not assaulted me that night, and literally forced me not to carry on competing.. I honestly don't know whether I'd be able to sit here talking to you right now.


The host sits there, looking a little dumbfounded, attempting to wrap his head around EP's comments towards his forthcoming opponent. After a few moments, he regains his composure, and shuffles through his papers to find the next question.

HOST: Wow... I mean.. I certainly didn't expect to hear that!

EP shrugs.

EL PABLO: It is what it is... pro wrestling's a crazy sport.

HOST: So... you've done your rehab.. you've taken your time off... how do you feel, sitting here right now, just a week away from the big return?

EL PABLO: I feel great! I feel fitter, stronger, and in better shape than I've honestly felt in years.. my mind is as clear as it's ever been.. and I'm just looking forward now to getting back into that ring.. and getting back to providing all the men, women, boys and girls in those halls and around the world with the El Pablo Experience that we've ALLLLLLLLLL been missing!

The scene fades to black.

----------*****----------

The screen opens on darkness, although this swiftly dissipates, bringing us face-to-(masked) face with the aforementioned Five Star Superstar himself. While the extreme zoom on the camera prohibits us from seeing much beyond his wrestling mask, we can at least see that - wherever he currently is, and whatever he is currently doing - he appears to be concentrating extremely hard, such is the rather pained, intense expression on his face.

EL PABLO: Hmmm…

Slowly, the camera begins to pull out, revealing a small series of playing cards, fanned open in EP’s hand. The Five Star Superstar continues to study his hand - well, not HIS hand, the hand inside his hand.. you know what I mean, stop being a dick! - for a few moments, before turning to his left.

EL PABLO: Do you have any.. threes?

The camera swings round 180 degrees, bringing into view the head and upper torso of a teenage girl, her long brown hair hanging in loose curls over her shoulders and her mouth curved in a gorgeous smile.

GIRL: Of course!

The camera jumps, now filming from further back and revealing EP to be stood in front of a cash desk situated inside what appears to be a large sporting goods store. The teenage girl - obviously an employee of said store - turns round on the other side of the desk, and removes a shoebox from one of the shelves. She hands the box to EP.

GIRL: Will you be taking the playing cards as well?

EL PABLO: Please.

EP tosses the cards onto the desk, and takes hold of the shoebox, opening it up and revealing to the camera its contents; a pair of white sneakers adorned with the “StarHeart” logo synonymous with El Pablo and his girlfriend Cristal during the latter stages of their career before EP’s hiatus. EP lifts one of the shoes out of the box and casts his eye over the detail, a smile on his face and his eyes wide with excitement.

EL PABLO: Awesome! My cousin is definitely gonna love these!

EP replaces the shoe and closes the box, as Cristal steps up to join him in the shot.

EL PABLO: Hey baby!

The two lovers share a kiss, and EP wraps an arm around Cristal’s waist as he places the box gently on the desk.

CRISTAL: Hey baby! You found the shoes?

EL PABLO: Sure did, they look awesome! I gotta tell you, for all his quirks, Ed sure knows his shit when it comes to merchandise!

CRISTAL: And you’re sure it’s not a horrendously self-indulgent thing to give a piece of your own merchandise as a gift?

EL PABLO: Nahhhh…

Well.. I mean… she DID ask…


With payment for the shoes complete, EP and Cristal turn and make their way towards the exit of the store. The doors slide open, and the two step out onto the sun-soaked street.. where they narrowly avoid a collision with an old lady inching her way along the sidewalk.

EL PABLO: OH! Sorry!

As EP and Cristal dive out of the way, they swing round.. right into CZW interviewer Jenny Jacobs, who had been holding a large Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand but is now wearing the contents of it all over her previously bright white blouse. Jenny is knocked to the floor, as EP and Cristal recoil in shock.. at least until the realisation of the situation sets in.

EL PABLO: Oh hey, Jenny! Look at that.. five minutes in and you’re already part of a hilarious set-piece in an El Pablo Promo!

The camera looks down at Jenny as she sits on the sidewalk, her face a perfect mix of shock, anger, embarrassment and pain.

EL PABLO: ..Wanna come back to my hotel room and take your shirt off?

Jenny suddenly snaps her head up, glaring at EP, who - along with Cristal - just smirks right back at her.

EL PABLO: Don’t act like you haven’t always dreamed of me asking you that.

The screen fades to black for a moment, before returning to life, showing us inside a fairly large, if somewhat modest hotel room. The camera moves across the room toward a small 2-seater sofa, made out of plush royal blue suede. Sat upon this sofa is EP, his legs crossed up on the cushion as he reclines, arms snaking across the back of the seat. As the camera closes in, Cristal walks up behind her boyfriend from the side of the shot, wearing a pastel pink dressing gown. She leans forward and gently tilts EP’s head back so the two can share another kiss.

CRISTAL: I’ll be in the shower babe.. come join me when you’ve got rid of what’s-her-ass?

EP smirks.

EL PABLO: You got it, sweetness!

Cristal heads for the bathroom, leaving EP alone with his thoughts (mmmmm.. thoughts…..). EP’s reflection is only permitted to last a brief moment, however, as Jenny Jacobs soon slumps down onto the sofa beside him, her upper body now concealed within a pink-and-black “EP FTW!” t-shirt and her face not looking all that happy about it.

JACOBS: ..You’re SURE this is the only spare shirt that Cristal has?

EL PABLO: Awwww come on, Jenny.. you work it well gurrrrrl!

Jenny blushes a little, now taking the time to check herself out a little.

JACOBS: Really?

EL PABLO: Yeah! You should totally try wearing clothes more often.

The pout immediately returns to Jenny’s lips, and she sighs in indignation as she reaches for her handbag. EP chuckles to himself, then stretches his arms behind his head, letting out a deliberately loud groan as he does so.

EL PABLO: Right, come on then.. let’s get this interview underway!

Jenny cocks an eyebrow.

JACOBS: ..Interview?

EL PABLO: Yeah, I figured that was why you were headed to the sporting goods store; to get yourself that first historic CZW.com exclusive?

Jenny lets out a laugh.

JACOBS: Sorry to disappoint you, Superstar.. but I was actually on my way to see Maaaa…

Jenny suddenly catches herself mid-exposure, and looks wide-eyed up at EP, who takes the opportunity to cock his own eyebrow.

JACOBS: ..yyyyy agent! Yeah, just my agent.. she’s hooking me up with some photoshoot thing, so.. you know…

A wry smile spreads across EP’s face, as he just looks in amusement at the suddenly somewhat-flusted Jacobs.

EL PABLO: Mmhmm.. I’m sure…

JACOBS: ..So! How about that interview, huh?

EL PABLO: Yeah, how about that.

Jenny removes a small notepad from her handbag, and slides the pen out from the bindings. She flicks open to the next blank page, and attempts to smoothly regain some composure and professionalism, crossing her legs and bracing for her cue to start writing.

JACOBS: So, El Pablo.. back in the Dub, huh? How does it feel?

The smile on EP’s face spreads to a full-on grin.

EL PABLO: It feels AMAZING. I mean, when I started charging through that crowd, and you could just hear the cheers, and feel the buzz building all the way around the arena as the realisation dawned on everyone just what was happening.. I’ve honest to God never felt anything like it. Right from the first time I pulled out the catchphrase, and that first big pop, it was like I’d never been away!

Jenny smiles, although it does not appear as sincere as it perhaps could be.

JACOBS: Hmm.. It’s all just a little bit.. “Hollywood” though, isn’t it? A little bit convenient. The once great El Pablo suddenly shakes off all these mysterious demons just at the right time to burst back onto the scene and try and upstage Ryan Shane on the grandest stage in CZW’s modern history thus far.

EP shrugs, still smiling broadly.

EL PABLO: Well.. why the heck not, eh, Jenny? It’s only fitting when you think about it. When the world seems at its darkest.. and you find your world suffocated beneath the thickest veil of a Shane-spread shadow… who better than the Technicolour Tecnico; the Five Star Superstar himself to swoop down from his fortress of solitude and cast out that darkness in a blast of brilliant bright burning light?

Having said all that, I wanna make something very clear right now, lest the CZW fans at home find themselves.. “misinformed”.

See.. this is not quite the superhero story that Derek Damage has in his mind right now. He will most certainly get his war with Ryan Shane.. but it is not Derek Damage that I will be fighting for.

Jenny, as you well know, the world of professional wrestling is not one well known for its long-term memory… However, the bitterness of being forced to compete in Damage’s farcical Damage Control project, which gutted the CZW roster of almost half its talent back in 2010, still festers deep within the minds of a great many people sitting in that CZW locker room. In pitting some of the finest talent he had at his disposal against one another, purely for the entertaining of his own sense of self-satisfaction and amusement.. Derek Damage left both himself and his company with nowhere to go but spiralling straight down into the abyss within which we soon found ourselves consumed by only a few months later. So, frankly.. Ryan Shane has a very valid point when he says that Derek Damage isn’t fit to run this company.

HOWEVER.. at least with Damage holding the reins, he’s so far off in backfuck-nowhere living out his retirement fantasy that the power still rests with us, the CZW superstars who go out there, night after night, putting our bodies and our lives on the line purely for the thrill of entertaining men, women and children across the world! Were Ryan Shane to take charge.. well, you can bet your ass that he would seize every little bit of power he could.. hold onto it as tightly and as ferociously as possible.. and utilise every single sick, twisted, devious and demonic plot inside that malevolent mind of his to ensure that NO-ONE ever took it off of him. Let me tell you right now, Jenny.. that would NOT be good news for CZW.


JACOBS: How can you be so sure?

EL PABLO: Think about it, Jenny! Shane himself has said on numerous occasions that every time he’s gotten close to the top of a particular pro-wrestling mountain, that mountain has quickly and dramatically crumbled beneath him. Now, ask yourself this; is that coincidence? Bad luck? Bad timing? Or is it simply that Ryan Shane becoming top dog is bad, bad business?

Look at it like this… when a fungus.. a disease.. a CANCER.. spreads to the heart of the host in which it resides… that host withers and dies. If Ryan Shane takes control of CZW, it too will wither and die.. and THAT.. is a Five.. Star.. Guarantee.

So.. if I’m not fighting for Derek Damage.. and I’m CERTAINLY not fighting for Ryan Shane.. then who am I fighting for? Is it Mike King?


EP pauses, as Jenny shifts her eyes awkwardly waiting for an answer.

EL PABLO: ..it’s not Mike King. While I admire his newfound dedication to helping the younger generation build their way up into the wrestling consciousness.. I’ve gotta wonder whether King’s forged enough of a legacy for himself to avoid suffering the inevitable consequences of his own success.

Plus, the guy apparently still has ties with my ex-fiancée, so there is NO WAY I’m involving myself in any kind of extended socialisation with that man! Fuck. That. SHIT.


JACOBS: Okay.. so you’re not fighting for Damage, you’re not fighting for Shane, you’re not fighting for King… who else is left?

EP smiles his typically wry smile, as though the answer should be blindingly obvious to anyone who knows the Five Star Superstar.

EL PABLO: Jenny.. say hello to the leader of the El Pablo CZW People’s Party!

EP holds the pose for far longer than necessary, as Jenny just straight deadpans him.

JACOBS: I hate you so much.

The camera closes in on the triumphant face of the Five Star Superstar as the screen fades to black yet again.

----------*****----------

The sounds of city nightlife fill the air (and the speakers) as the darkness clears for the 27th time, revealing us to be looking up at a large white sign adorning the top of a very wide, very concrete building; a sign that reads “U.S. Cellular Center”. The camera begins to pull back, positioning us right down on the sidewalk just across the street, as an immediately recognizable - if not quite yet familiar - pair of pants steps into shot.

VOICE: The U.S. Cellular Center.. Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

The camera quickly picks itself up off the floor and to a position where it can be level with El Pablo’s face as he turns around, a soft smile on his face as his vest blows slightly in the cool summer breeze.

EL PABLO: This is where it all started… February 28th 2008.

..Well, to be precise, the seeds were sown a week before that in Boston, but it was on that night, in this very arena.. that the world got its first look at the might, the majesty.. the masochistic mayhem of the Greenhouse Match.

Like I said, the seeds had been sown a week before, when Tim Timmons and his friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend-turned-give-a-shit Carnage jumped me backstage and tossed me threw a window. Obviously, I knew I had to get revenge, and with my waist being adorned at the time with the CZW X-Title belt.. I knew I had to do something big. And, me being me, I wanted to keep it somewhat topical.. but, it wasn’t until one night, when I was randomly browsing Youtube for wrestling videos, that inspiration struck. I saw a match between the legendary Cactus Jack, and some dude named Wing Kanemura.. a Death match - naturally - that featured the rather unique addition of two glass “crates” on opposite sides of the ring area. As I watched the contest play out, transfixed by what I was seeing, and completely drawn in by the AMAZING promo cut by Cactus immediately beforehand… I knew I had my match. I knew I had the perfect way to get my revenge on Timmons, and at the same time put myself and the X-Division right at the forefront of the CZW consciousness!

So, after a little tweaking - two glass crates out, FOUR glass tables in - the match was set to go. Timmons and I literally tore each other apart.. we made headlines around the world.. I got my revenge.. and the Greenhouse Match went on to forge arguably the greatest legacy of anything and anyone ever to be associated with the company known as CZW. The Greenhouse Match became the go-to stipulation for when two people wanted to settle a score.. wage a war.. or even just find a convenient environment within which to beat the ever-loving shit out of each other. Over the course of history, so many iconic figures found themselves stepping into that most ungodly of arenas; Alan Fiscus.. Matt Stylez.. Cage Stryker…

..and now, Ryan Shane.. you get your turn.

Shane, I’ve listened to a lot of what you’ve had to say leading up to this match; and I’ve gotta tell you… you are absolutely right. You and I.. we need each other. We are the two most completely polar opposites that anyone is ever likely to find in this business.. but, just as with all great opposing forces.. the existence and validity of one is kind of dependent on the other. A person can’t experience true happiness until they’ve suffered some kind of sadness… a person can never appreciate true love until they’ve been left stranded in desperate loneliness… and a person can never know and understand the Greater Good.. until they’ve stared at the face of the most violent, despicable evil.

I guess that’s where we find ourselves right now, huh, Shane? Now, I know that to call you “evil” is really no insult at all.. in fact, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always taken a real pride in just how hateful.. how sadistic.. how fucking diabolical a human being you are. But hey, it is what it is; you’re the face of evil, I’m the face of.. well, I’m the face. You’re the dark shadow, I’m the shining light. You’re the curse, I’m the prayer beads and elaborate song and dance routine that drives you out. Like Yin and Yang, Hot and Cold, Penn and Teller, Dogg and Ass… no-one can deny that we aren’t great on our own, but when the two of us come together.. THAT’S when we really have purpose.

Shane, you say that the pressure is on ME to pull out the victory in this contest.. that it is I who absolutely HAS to win…

..THAT, I’m not sure sure about.

I mean.. yes, it is MY stipulation, and yes, it is MY shoulders that the future of the CZW appears to be resting on… but consider this; I’ve been out of action for almost one entire year, going into this contest. Completely, 100%, stone-cold sober on professional wrestling, since the day you and DXM beat me down and took me out almost 12 months ago. Can you really afford to lose to me, knowing all that? With all the work you’ve put into this revolution so far.. all the work, all the bloodshed, all the scheming and guarantees of grandeur and grand undertakings… can you REALLY afford to lose to a man who hasn’t laced up his boots since September of last year?

Allow me to put it in terms you might better relate to… picture, if you will, a drinking contest. Bear with me.. I know what you’re thinking, but bear with me… On one side of this contest, you have a man known throughout his town - not just the bar in which he currently sits, but his entire town - for being able to drink, digest and tolerate more alcohol in his bloodstream than anybody else. To those who frequent that bar, he’s nothing short of a legend; an undisputed testament to what it truly is to be a man. On the other side.. is you. Or at least, someone like you. Straight-edge.. a lifetime lived up to that point without a single ingestion of alcohol, or any other kind of drug.

Now.. just IMAGINE what would happen if that Straight-edge fellow were to win that drinking contest. IMAGINE what that would do to the reputation of the local hero. Defeated in a competition he was so renowned for excelling in, by a person for whom being described as “out of practice” would be one of the greatest understatements in the history of the English language.

That’s more-or-less the situation you’re stepping into on Sunday night, Shane… because no matter what you’ve achieved up to this point.. no matter how far you’ve managed to slither up the ladder.. no matter how many necks you’ve managed to snap towards facing up towards your vision… if you lose to me on Sunday night… your credibility, and indeed, your entire revolution.. will lie every bit as shattered and broken on the floor as the panes of glass you and I will have driven each other through during this contest.

You NEED a victory this Sunday night, Shane… but mark my words, you will not get it. I’ve seen too many companies die by your hands over the last few years, and I will not let CZW suffer its third great indignation by allowing you to seep out of the walls and into its throne like some kind of sick toxic sludge.

This Sunday night, at Kingdom Come.. you will all bear witness to the start of the great unravelling of the Uprising… and that…

..is a Five..

..Star..

..Guarantee.


EP extends his arms out either side of him, and cranes his head back, eyes closed, as the screen slowly fades to black for the final time.
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