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The Fantastical Misadventures of the Supporting Cast; EP DT DC ME RP.. CZW!
Topic Started: Feb 16 2013, 04:18 AM (139 Views)
El Pablo
Member Avatar
VIVA LA RAINBOWLUTION!!!

The scene opens on a close-up shot of a small, white plastic name-tag, pinned to the lapel of a slate grey blazer. The CZW logo can clearly be seen in the top left-hand corner, with the following text printed beneath it:

RHI LATIONS
CZW HEAD OF PR


The camera slowly pans out, revealing the blazer upon which this nametag has been pinned to be dressed around the soft, understated curves of a female torso. The camera continues to pull back, taking in black suit pants, and a head-full of blonde hair tied neatly back behind a head and face dressed in thin-rimmed, brown animal-printed glasses.. and a slightly-nervous expression.

As Rhi chews gently on her bottom lip, we become aware of the sound of massed discussion and general hubbub. After a moment or two, Rhi checks her watch, then gets to her feet, as the camera shifts its position to reveal her stood on a small stage behind a long table, dressed in a cloth sporting all manner of logos and advertisment relating to CZW and its affiliates. Gathered before her is a small-roomful of journalists and media representatives, engaging in polite discussion and small-talk amongst themselves while clutching and preparing various combinations of notepads and iPads for what one might assume is an imminent press conference. After taking a couple of deep, self-calming breaths, Rhi clears her throat and prepares to address the crowd.


RHI LATIONS: EXCUSE ME, ladies and gentlemen...

The conversation gradually dies down, as all eyes turn their focus to the stage.

RHI LATIONS: Thankyou all for coming to this first installment of CZW's "Pre-iPPV Press Conferences." I know you all have busy schedules, so let's not waste any time, and bring out our first speaker.. subject.. superstar of the session!

Rhi reaches down onto the top of the table and picks up an iPad of her own, holding it casually in front of her as she begins to tap and scroll across the screen.

RHI LATIONS: ..Sorry, I've been given very specific introduction instructions.. I don't wanna get it wrong.

This draws a small ripple of laughter from the journalistic collective gathered below Rhi, as she finally finds the piece of information she was apparently looking for.

RHI LATIONS: OKAY... ladies and gentlemen.. esteemed professionals of the journalistic and professional-wrestling communities... please allow me to introduce.. a former Tag, X-Division, Intercontinental AND World Heavyweight Champion.. the first and ONLY Grand Slam Champion in CZW's long and storied history.. a founding and flagship member of BOTH AMP XTC and Team XTC... he is CZW's King of Comedy.. the Faciest Face on the Face of Planet Pro-Wrestling... and, come Monday night, the man who will hold the power to control CZW right in the palm of his fluffy, scaley Dragon-Squirrel hand... The Five Star Superstar.. The Technicolour Tecnico..... El Pablo.

The room breaks out into respectful applause as "Party Hard" by Andrew WK begins to play over the PA System. All eyes turn to the curtain draped over a portion of the balsa-wood backdrop, as the gathering eagerly awaits the arrival of the de facto leader of the CZW Elite... however, even after several increasingly-awkward seconds, the curtain remains decidedly un-stepped through. The music slowly fades out, and Rhi nervously fiddles with the collar of her blouse against a backdrop of hushed whispers and speculation. She clears her throat again, then leans right into the microphone positioned at the far side of the table as she fixes her eyes back on the curtain.

RHI LATIONS: *Ahem* ..THE FIVE STAR SUPERSTAR.. THE TECHNICOLOUR TECNICO..... EL PABLO!

Once again, "Party Hard" tears onto the PA system, as a rather more ginger round of applause breaks out for the male half of the Most Colourful Couple in Wrestling. Just as before, however, the gathering are left waiting rather longer than is reasonable or necessary or reasonably necessary for their El Pablo Experience, and the music soon fades out again, as murmurs of dissatisfaction begin to waft in the direction of a confused and embarrassed-looking Rhi on the stage. The PR Chief massages the back of her neck with her hands, obviously attempting to calm and comfort herself as she stands back upright and turns to face the crowd.

RHI LATIONS: Uhm... excuse me a moment!

With that, Rhi suddenly turns and makes her way hurriedly through the curtain, as the camera cuts to follow her marching along a corridor comprising the "backstage" portion of the venue in which we currently find ourselves. After a few seconds, Rhi comes to a stop outside a closed wooden door, which has had taped to it a sheet of paper displaying the words "El Pablo/Cristal - Green Room + Relaxation Station". After taking a brief moment to press her ear inquisitively against the door, Rhi knocks gently upon it with her knuckles.

RHI LATIONS: ...Pablo?

Another knock.

RHI LATIONS: Pablo, are.. are you there?

Recieving no answer, Rhi cautiously wraps her fingers around the handle of the door.. turns it.. and pushes the door open, poking her head gingerly into the room.

RHI LATIONS: ...Pablo?

Rhi opens the door completely now, and steps into the room, the camera following behind her. Eyes are cast around the vicinity, taking in plush leather couches, tables loaded with snacks and goodies, a large television set... but no CZW competitors. Rhi places her hands on her hips, and turns back to face the doorway. As she does so, it appears that something catches her attention, and the camera swings round to reveal a thirty-something Hispanic man, dressed in a polo shirt and chinos, with a headset on his head and a clipboard in his hands.

RHI LATIONS: JORGE!! Have you.. have you seen El Pablo?

Jorge lets out a sigh, then lowers his eyes to scan over his clipboard, lifting a few pages before looking back up at Rhi and shrugging his shoulders as he looks at her with a look of resignation.

JORGE: He no show!

Rhi's eyes widen, and even begin to well up slightly as a slight pout begins to form across her lips. She nods her head a little, and chews on her lip again as she turns to the side, not wanting to expose herself completely to the camera.

RHI LATIONS: "He no show.." again! ...Perfect.

The screen fades to black.

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

After a couple of seconds, the screen returns to life, having transported us via the magic of television to a brand new location, and a brand new means of displaying one's name for the benefit of anyone standing in a proximity close and relative-enough to that name's owner to be able to read it. A small, rectangular perspex name plat sits, housed in a polished wooden stand, upon a lavish-looking wooden desk, engraved with the following information:

ADAM VER TISING
CEW HEAD OF PR


The camera slowly pulls back, revealing the familiar, snappy-suited figure of Adam ver Tising, FORMER CZW Head of Public Relations and long-time colleague and confidente of El Pablo. As we watch him, Adam busies himself with signing and stamping various pieces of paperwork.. until he is interrupted by the ringing of his desk phone. Adam picks the reciever up and holds it to his ear, reclining back in his chair.


AD VER TISING: Adam ver Tising, CEW PR.

A thin white bar suddenly extends up from the bottom of the screen, splitting it in two as Adam is shoehorned into the left side of the screen, and Rhi Lations appears on the right, her cellphone pressed to her own ear as she still stands inside the Relaxation Station.

RHI LATIONS: Hi Adam.. this is Rhi Lations, CZW's Head of PR.

Adam sits forward slightly, his brow furrowing a little.

AD VER TISING: Oh, hey... how are you?

RHI LATIONS: I've been better... Listen, I'm calling because I currently have a bit of a problem, a problem I'm told you've had previous experience with and therefore may be able to help me solve.

AD VER TISING: Okay.. what kind of problem?

RHI LATIONS: Well... I'm currently standing in the green room of a press conference I had organised to help promote this Desperate Times Pay-Per-View, and, uh... it was supposed to feature El Pablo, but.. uh... he's not here.. he hasn't shown up.

Adam strokes his chin with his fingers as he cocks an eyebrow, now leaning forward with his elbows resting on the desk in front of him.

AD VER TISING: Really? That's not like him... what have you got him booked for on the show?

RHI LATIONS: He's in a big Main Event match that also features the World Heavyweight Champion, serving as the culmination to a feud that's undergone a considerable amount of build and seen a significant amount of investment of time and resources.

AD VER TISING: ...Oh.. well that is kinda like him.

RHI LATIONS: So.. do you know where I might be able to find him.. where he's likely to be? He's not scheduled for anything with your company, is he?

Adam opens one of the drawers on his desk and begins to rummage through the contents, then pulls out a folder and begins to flick through it on the desktop.

AD VER TISING: Hmm.. not as far as I know.. there certainly isn't anything that I've got pencilled in for him.

RHI LATIONS: Urrgh... any idea where you think he might be, then?

AD VER TISING: Hmmmm... Well.. usually when he's pulled a no-show like this in the past, it's turned out that he's been hiding out in this weird, gigantic treehouse with Carmen San Diego and Amelia Airheart and... Waldo...

Rhi's face contorts into an expression of extreme confusion and more than a little judgement.

RHI LATIONS: A treehouse, are you kidding me? What is he, like, five years old.. hanging out with his imaginary friends?

Adam just lets out a slight chuckle, as his mouth curves into the slightest hint of a smile.

AD VER TISING: ...You haven't been in this job long, have you?

The screen fades to black once again.

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

After a moment or two, the darkness dissipates once more, bringing unto us a shot of a single sheet of paper, obviously having only recently been unfolded, and having been encribed upon with the words "Apt. 4-24, 13 Hotel Rd". Having given us an opportunity to familiarise ourselves with the text, the paper is suddenly lowered from our field of vision, bringing into view from behind it a large, luxurious-looking hotel. As our eyes attempt to take in the sight, Rhi steps into view from alongside us, and makes her way swiftly towards the main entrance as we start to follow after her. Once inside, we make our way immediately over to the reception, to be greeted by the showbiz-smiling face of the young lady standing behind the desk.


RECEPTIONIST: Hi there! Welcome to the Chateau-de-Convenience! How may I assist you?

RHI LATIONS: Hi, I'm looking for Apartment.. 4-24?

The receptionist's face suddenly drops to a rather more serious expression, as she looks around her a little.

RECEPTIONIST: Ap.. Apartment 4-24?

RHI LATIONS: Yeah, 4-24.. can you tell me where it is?

The receptionist leans in over the desk, moving her face as close to Rhi's ear as possible.

RECEPTIONIST: Big tree.. round the back.

Rhi pulls back, and looks at the receptionist with a cocked eyebrow.

RHI LATIONS: ..So it really IS a treehouse?

The receptionist just nods.

RHI LATIONS: And number 4, as well... I mean.. seems kinda low to be sticking it out in the backyard, don't you think? Doesn't really make a whole lot of sense...

RECEPTIONIST: ...You haven't been in this job long, have you?

Rhi places her hands on her hips and glares at the receptionist in quiet indignation as the screen performs a swipe cut to transport us to what is clearly the exterior porch/decking area of the aforementioned treehouse. Very quickly, the sound of grunting and straining can be heard, along with the occasional expletive, as two once-immaculately-manicured hands finally come into view at the top of what is obviously some kind of rope ladder, and Rhi slowly and incredibly-undignifiedly pulls herself up onto the high-grade varnished-wooden decking. She lays on her back for a few moments, attempting to catch her breath, then slowly gets to her feet and makes a point of straightening-up her appearance as much as possible before approaching the door and knocking thrice. After a few seconds, the sound of high-heeled footsteps on a varnished wooden floor become audible, and immediately precede the opening of the door, as a very familiar brown-haired, red-hatted, trenchcoat-wearing figure steps into view.

CARMEN: ...Hello?

Rhi's eyes widen, and her face drains almost completely of all colour, the PR chief looking as though she'd just come face-to-face with a ghost. She stumbles backwards, and almost steps completely off the balcony and out of the tree, fortunately stopping herself by grabbing a branch extending out just above her head.

RHI LATIONS: You're.. Y-you're.. YOU'RE...!?

Carmen folds her arms in front of her chest, a somewhat-impatient expression on her face as she looks Rhi up and down.

CARMEN: Is there something I can help you with, hun?

Rhi nervously makes her way back across the desk, attempting to regain her composure once more.

RHI LATIONS: Sorry... I.. uh.. my name is Rhi Lations... I'm the Head of Public Relations for a professional-wrestling company called CZW.

Carmen flashes a wry smile.

CARMEN: CZW, huh? I know why you're here.

RHI LATIONS: You.. you do?

CARMEN: Yup... Come with me.

Carmen beckons for Rhi to follow her as she turns round and re-enters the treehouse. Rhi's face lights up a little, though she still remains noticeably nervous as she steps through the door herself. The camera cuts inside, revealing the impossibly-lavish and luxurious pad familiar to us from our previous visits. Rhi, however - and perhaps unsurprisingly - appears completely blown away by the sight before her, walking behind Carmen San Diego with her mouth open almost as wide as her eyes, her head constantly turning as she attempts to take in every minute, extravagent detail of her surroundings; huge flat-screen television, wine and cocktail bar, fully-furnished-and-functioning kitchen.. Amelia Airheart, Waldo and Jack The Ripper playing what appears to be some ludicrous combination of Go Fish, Twister, Jenga and Pictionary...

AMELIA: Who's the suit?

CARMEN: CZW, Meelz.. she's here to pick up our guest!

AMELIA: 'Bout time.. he's been hanging out in the back with Richey all day... you know Richey don't function well when he gets around friends!

CARMEN: I've got it, Amelia!


Rhi stares dumbfounded at the card table and its occupants, before jogging to catch back up with Carmen, tapping her frantically on the shoulder.

RHI LATIONS: That.. that was.. they are...

CARMEN: Yes, yes.. history's great Lost and Disappeared, Hide-and-Seekers all! Anyway...

Carmen suddenly comes to a stop outside a closed door, turning round to face Rhi.

CARMEN: ..your man's right in there.

Carmen slaps on the door with her palm, then starts to make her way back over to the poker table.

RHI LATIONS: Wait!

Carmen turns round, as Rhi looks after her with a mix of confusion and concern.

RHI LATIONS: ..You're not coming in with me?

CARMEN: Oh no, sweetie.. I can't be dealing with all that "Symphony of Tourette" stuff!

Carmen turns and heads back to the table, leaving Rhi looking even more confused. After a second or two, Rhi turns her attention to the door, casting her eye over it.. and stepping back slightly as she spies dry ice and an eerie purple light drifting out from underneath it. She gingerly extends her hand, and presses it against the door, muttering some presumably-motivational speech to herself before pushing the door open and stepping into the ethereal fog that lies within. Rhi cautiously makes her way through the room, arms out in front of her so as to try and avoid bumping into anything. Suddenly, she appears to reach somewhat of a clearing, in the midst of which stand two rather different figures; one, a frail, gaunt young man, bare-chested with leopard-print skinny jeans on his legs, his unkempt black hair hanging down over his eyes as he absent-mindedly strums on an electric guitar slung over his shoulder; the other a tall, immediately-intimidating figure, his bowed head concealed beneath the hood of a long, black, almost druid-like cloak. Before Rhi can speak or scream or retreat in terror, the frail guitarist lifts his head and clamps his eyes upon her, his gaze almost piercing right through Rhi as she stands, completely frozen.

RICHEY EDWARDS - GUITARIST FROM BRITISH BAND THE MANIC STREET PREACHERS WHO WENT MISSING IN 1995 AND WAS DECLARED LEGALLY DEAD IN 2008: Oh.. look.. another Spectator Of Suicide... hello, Sleepflower.

Rhi initially fails to respond; her lips can be seen trembling, even attempting to form words, however nothing more than the occasional squeak is able to pass her lips.

RICHEY: She Is Suffering... You're Tender And You're Tired.. So Why So Sad? Be Natural.

Finally, Rhi is able to force out a sentence, though she obviously remains in a great deal of distress.

RHI LATIONS: I... I, uh.. is.. is that... El Pablo?

Richey winces.

RICHEY: Ooooooooooh... So Dead.

For the first time since coming into view, the larger figure begins to move, raising their head to look at Rhi. As they do so, their face becomes exposes, revealing the figure to be former CZW World Heavyweight Champion Mortius, his eyes burning into the very soul of the PR Chief.

MORTIUS: You dare confuse me with that loathsome, repugnant mixture of rainbows and emoticons? The mere thought of that abomination prancing around the many hallowed halls of the professional-wrestling industry, infecting the innocent with his nauseating plague of frivolity and showmanship... the snake-rat is nothing but a cancer on what used to be a noble competition.. I should cut your tongue out and feed your pretty face to the ravens for even uttering his name in my presence!

It is all Rhi can do to even keep herself standing at this point, her face white with fear as her heart almost-visibly beats out of her chest.

RHI LATIONS: OH GOD... I'm so, so sorry! I didn't.. I'm just... I HAVEN'T BEEN IN THIS JOB LONG!!!

Rhi's screams echo out into the wilderness, as the screen suddenly cuts back to Adam ver Tising, still sat at his desk in his office although this time doing a jigsaw puzzle of "Showtime" Nick Alexander for some reason. He carefully attempts to maneuver a piece into position, when, suddenly, the phone rings, causing him to toss the piece up into the air.

AD VER TISING: HOLY shit!

Adam scrambles to catch the piece, then picks the phone up, reclining back in his chair again as he rolls the piece between his fingers.

AD VER TISING: Adam ver Tising, CEW PR.

Once again a separation of the screen takes place, as Rhi comes into view on the right of the screen, now standing rather disheveled-looking at the base of the tree.

RHI LATIONS: Hey Adam, it's Rhi...

AD VER TISING: Oh, hey Rhi.. how's the hunt going?

RHI LATIONS: I went to the treehouse.

AD VER TISING: Crazy, ain't it?

RHI LATIONS: Yeah... I met Mortius.

AD VER TISING: Holy shit, Mortius was there!? How's he doing?

RHI LATIONS: Don't really wanna talk about it, to be honest... any other ideas on where you think El Pablo might be?

Adam swivels back and forth in his chair a little, scratching his head with the jigsaw piece as he obviously attempts to think of a solution to Rhi's problem. Rhi, meanwhile, now begins to make her way back round to the front of the hotel.

AD VER TISING: Hmmm... what kind of match did you say he was booked in?

RHI LATIONS: It's, like, an Elimination Chamber tag type thing.. winner gets to choose who runs CZW.

AD VER TISING: A tag-team match inside an Elimination Chamber for control of CZW...

Adam suddenly clicks his fingers, and sits bolt upright in his chair.

AD VER TISING: Rochester, New York!

Rhi looks confused.

RHI LATIONS: ..I'm sorry?

AD VER TISING: Okay, so, one of EP's other things he likes to do before big matches is pay a visit to an arena that bears some sort of relation to the match in which he's about to compete. Now, back in 2009, CZW was caught in a three-way battle for control, just like it is now.. and it was decided that the direction in which that control was placed would be decided by virtue of a match.. a Stables Elimination Chamber match, to be specific.

RHI LATIONS: Ahhhhhhhhhh.. and the match took place during a show in Rochester, New York.. I get it!

AD VER TISING: Attagirl!

RHI LATIONS: Do you know the specific building.. like, the arena or whatever?

Adam swivels to face the computer positioned on the corner of his desk, and begins tapping away at the keyboard, as Rhi finally makes it back to the vehicle in which she arrived. She opens the door and pulls out her iPad, placing it carefully on the roof of the car as she performs a few taps of her own on the screen.

AD VER TISING: The Blue Cross Arena.. 1 War Memorial Square.. 14614.

RHI LATIONS: You're a lifesaver; thank you so much, Adam!

AD VER TISING: No problem; take care, hun!

RHI LATIONS: Bye!

Adam returns the reciever of his phone to its docking station, as his half of the screen gets pushed out to the side in favour of a full-screen shot of Rhi, who hangs up her own phone with an excited smile on her face as the screen fades to black once again.

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

On this occasion, the darkness is allowed to settle around us without any immediate indication of dispersion, as a state of complete sensory inactivity overtakes the environment. After a few moments, however, the sound of a pumped-up, rabid wrestling crowd slowly begins to filter in from the abyss, accompanied a little while after by the unmistakable voice of Jarred Daniels, echoing in and out of our consciousness as if recounting events broadcast directly from the distant depths of our memory.

DANIELS: MMMMonroe and McNeil left alone in the ring here.. Monroe picks McNeil up.. OH! BUT MCNEIL WITH A T-BONE.. WHAT A SUPLEX FROM RONNIE MCNEIL.. THE COVERRRR...

A clear cacophony of boos spills forth from the crowd as the sound of a hand slapping three times against canvas rings out.

MASTERS: TTTTHREE MEN DOWNNNN!!!

DANIELS: BBBBAH GAWD.. BA/XTC ARE DOWN 2 ON 5 ON 5 ALREADY IN THIS THING.. IS THERE ANY WAY BACK FOR THEMMMM!?

MONTANA: HHHHere comes Pabloooo!

DANIELS: BBBBeautiful Northern Lights Suplex.. McNeil is down.. AND EL PABLO IS GOING UP TOP! HE MEASURES... PABLO SPLASH! HE HITS ITTTT!!!

CROWD: ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!

DANIELS: MMMMCNEIL IS GONE! AND LOOK OUT.. MCNALLY WITH A BICYCLE KICK ON COLLUM... BUT EL PABLO WITH A ROLL-UP ON THE RIPPERRRR!!!

CROWD: ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!

MASTERS: HHHHOLY CRAPPPP!!!

MONTANA: TTTTHIS MAN IS ON FIREEEE!!!

DANIELS: FFFFiscus grabs Collum.. beautiful belly-to-belly suplex.. AND HERE'S EL PABLO AGAINNNN!!!

MONTANA: MMMMOONSAULTTTT!!!

CROWD: ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!

DANIELS: YYYYES!!! YES!!! EL PABLO.. FIGHTING ON.. AGAINST THE ODDS.. FIGHTING TO KEEP THE HOPES OF ALL OF CZW ALIVEEEE!!!

The commentary and crowd noises now slowly fade back out into the ether, as the darkness subsequently begins to dissipate, bringing unto us a night-time, streetlamp-lit shot of the Blue Cross Arena in Rochester, New York. Just as with the previous location, the stillness of the scene is swiftly interrupted by the sight of Rhi stepping into view from alongside us, and leading us across the street towards the large, glass-walled entrance of the arena. As we approach, it quickly becomes apparent that, if there is life and activity currently inside the building, it is certainly not evident in the lobby, which currently sits almost-totally concealed beneath a still, silent shroud of darkness. Rhi presses her face up against the glass, hands cupped around either side of her head as she strains to make out even the slightest, most insignificant hint of human presence within the building. After a few moments of investigation, she pulls back slightly, and takes a brief look around her immediate vicinity before banging firmly on the door with the side of a clenched fist.


RHI LATIONS: HELLO!? IS ANYBODY IN THERE!? PABLO!? CRISTAL!? ARE YOU IN THERE!?

After what seems like a quarter of an eternity, the flickering into life of a light inside a hallway at the far end of the lobby brings a glimmer of hope to Rhi's quest for the seeking and salvation of her runaway guest. After a few more seconds, a shadowy figure shuffles into shot, and slowly makes his way across the floor towards the door. As the figure approaches, a spark of recognition may very well be ignited inside the long-term memories of CZW's more long-term fans, as it appears for all the world as though this figure is none other than former CZW Tag Team Champion, "The Janitor" Billy Williams, dressed in his familiar janitorial-blue boiler suit. He is also carrying a mop, because why the fuck not?

Finally, Billy reaches the door, then removes a fully-stacked ring of keys from his utility belt and inserts the appropriate one into the door, opening it up and stepping into the middle of the frame, a soft if somewhat sleep-addled smile upon his face. Rhi, meanwhile, looks rather confused.. not for the first time.


RHI LATIONS: ...Billy!?

WILLIAMS: Evenin', Rhi.

RHI LATIONS: What... what are you doing here?

Billy glances over at his mop, lifting it slightly as he shrugs his shoulders before looking back at Rhi.

WILLIAMS: Janitorial priveledges.. that's a lifetime pass, you know; 'specially when the council deems you to have made a real significant contribution to the elevation of the reputation of the Custodial arts in the eyes of modern society.

RHI LATIONS: ..Is that right?

WILLIAMS: Sure is... we're actually having a little bit of a social right now; me, Neil Flynn, Dan Castellaneta...

RHI LATIONS: But.. here? Why?

WILLIAMS: Ehh.. upcoming CZW show.. huge, future-defining Main Event with significant historical and circumstancial ties to this arena... The Board figured there's a pretty-good chance El Pablo's gonna turn up at some point for his usual "This happened so now this'll happen" promo feature. So.. priveledges exercised, just in case.. insurance purposes, all that business.

Rhi's face drops, as one swears they can actually see her heart sink down out of her chest and into her shoes.

RHI LATIONS: Oh, you.. you mean.. El Pablo's not here right now?

WILLIAMS: Nope.. 'fraid not.

Rhi lets out a sigh, looking utterly deflated as Billy places a hand gently on her upper arm.

WILLIAMS: You okay, sweetheart?

RHI LATIONS: He... he no-showed a press conference I'd set up to promote Desperate Times... I've spent the best part of this past week trying to track him down and get him in front of some kind of camera in some kind of fashion.

Billy looks confused.

WILLIAMS: He no-showed? Hmmm.. it's not like him to just up and go missing before a big Main Event match that also features the World Heavyweight Champion, serving as the culmination to a feud that's undergone a considerable amount of build and seen a significant amount of investment of time and resources...

RHI LATIONS: Well...

WILLIAMS: ...Actually, yeah, I suppose he does do that quite a lot.

Pity... I had a good feeling this'd be the time he'd finally get his win over Shane.


RHI LATIONS: How do you figure?

Billy breaks into a wistful smile.

WILLIAMS: You should've seen him, Rhi.. Stable Wars; January 9th 2009.. right here in this very building. You had Team XTC - Pablo, Ace King and Krimzon Blaze - teaming up with Beautiful Agony - Brian Kirkland and Mike Monroe - to take on The Whole Damn Show - Alan Fiscus, Matt Covey, Maynard O'Toole, Eddie Rowan and Bryan McNally - and The Elite Revolution - Eric Collum, Gregory Grantham, Karl Jackson, Ronnie McNeil and Mortius...

Rhi can't help but shiver as her mind casts back to her rather intense introduction to the man formerly known as "The Shadow".

WILLIAMS: These three factions had been waging war for months by that point.. both the Show and the Revolution wanted to take over operational control of CZW, and it seemed Team XTC and Beautiful Agony were the only thing capable of stopping that from happening.

Finally, it all came to a head.. a three team, FIFTEEN-MAN, tag-team Elimination Chamber match... whichever team had one of their men left as the last one standing would find themselves with absolute.. inarguable.. UNDISPUTED control of CZW.

Now, things started off bad for XTC/BA and CZW.. REAL bad... in fact, by the time El Pablo was even able to get himself involved in the match, his team had already suffered three eliminations in quick succession, leaving them two-on-five-on-five with some of the absolute best that this company has ever had step inside its particular squared-circle!

Involve himself, El Pablo did, though.. and BOY HOWDY... I swear to you by every golden strand on this mop's high-grade, high-absorbent head.. you ain't never seen a man rally against the odds and pull his team back from the brink of certain, imminent, inevitable defeat like he did in that match. Soon as he stepped through those ropes.. Northern Lights.. Pablo Splash.. BAM! ..Ronnie McNeil eliminated. McNally and Collum start duking it out.. Pablo flies in with a roll-up.. BAM! ..Bryan McNally eliminated. Even when Ace King got himself eliminated by Covey and left XTC with just the one representative, El Pablo STILL hung on in there, battling through EIGHT more eliminations until.. finally.. he was caught with a suckerpunch of a suplex from Alan Fiscus.


RHI LATIONS: So.. he lost?

WILLIAMS: He lost.. but if there was ever such a thing as a triumphant.. heroic professional-wrestling defeat... El Pablo in the Stable Wars Elimination Chamber was IT.

Besides, a defeat like that can often be as good as a victory... it all depends on what you learn from it.. how you build off of it and channel that experience into bettering yourself as both a professional and a person... and you can take it from me, Rhi; any mistakes that El Pablo may have been guilty of making during that first match.. he'd be damn sure careful he didn't make any of them again in this. For one thing, he certainly wouldn't trust and turn his back on Ryan Shane like he did Alan Fiscus first time around.. you don't need a rainbow-coloured crystal ball to see how stupid and self-destructive an act that would be!


Rhi allows a small laugh to escape her lips, although the sorrow is still evident as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

RHI LATIONS: Guess we'll never know now, eh?

Billy sucks on his teeth a little, before lifting his gaze to look in Rhi's eyes, a small smile spreading across his face again.

WILLIAMS: He'll be here.. don't you worry. There's no way El Pablo's gonna just sit back and let Ryan Shane claim absolute power over this company.. not after everything he's been through already in this battle.

Rhi looks back into the eyes of Billy, and gradually allows a smile to spread across her own face as she nods her head slightly. Slowly, she begins to step backwards away from the door.

RHI LATIONS: Let me know if you hear anything, okay?

WILLIAMS: Will do, Rhi.

The two share a brief wave, before Rhi turns and makes her way back to the car, the camera following alongside as she opens the door and steps inside. The screen cuts inside to join her on the back seat, as she pulls her iPhone out of her handbag and starts to tap away on the screen. Suddenly.. a familiar dragony-squirrely-maskedy face peers round from the drivers seat, the features contorted into a big, wide, almost-terrifyingly-sinister grin.

EL PABLO: Where to, Rhi? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Rhi almost jumps out of her skin then right out of the limo, her hands gripping the seat almost to the point of piercing through the material as her eyes almost literally burst forth from their sockets.

RHI LATIONS: HOLY F- ..PABLO!? WHAT TH- ..WHERE TH- ..I...

CRISTAL: Cat got your tongue, business-pants?

Rhi leaps into the door of the car, as her head snaps round to fix her eyes on Cristal, who has magically appeared in the seat right next to her.

RHI LATIONS: JESUS!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!?!?!?!?!?

CRISTAL: HAAAA! You should've seen your face!

EL PABLO: What do you mean, "you people..?"

RHI LATIONS: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH THIS PAST WEEK!? RUNNING AROUND HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE.. TEETERING ON THE BRINK OF A COMPLETE NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.. FORCED INTO FRATERNIZING WITH ALL KINDS OF FREAKS AND FUCKING WEIRDOS.. JUST BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT'D BE FUNNY TO PLAY A LITTLE HIDE AND SEEK!?!? WHY DIDN'T YOU TURN UP FOR THE PRESS CONFERENCE I ORGANISED!?!?!?!?

EP flashes a wry smile as he turns round to face forward out of the windshield, although this quickly evaporates as he starts the car and begins to drive.

EL PABLO: All will become clear.

The scene fades to black.

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

The darkness is lifted a few moments later, though only by a few degrees, as the sole sources of light provided to us by the surroundings are the twinkling stars in the night sky above us and the soft glow of urban civilisation out towards the horizon. The camera slowly pans across the scene, traversing along the barely-defineable outline of a hilltop until it eventually comes to rest upon a set of headlights, winding their way up a twisting hill road towards a gravel-covered parking area. The camera slowly closes in on the vehicle as it comes to a stop at the edge of the area, before the screen cuts inside, as EP shuts off the engine and pulls the key from the ignition. The three sit there in silence for several moments, before Rhi speaks up again.


RHI LATIONS: So.. Pablo?

EP does not respond, but instead opens the door of the car and steps out, Cristal following just behind out of her own door.

EL PABLO: Come.

With some hesitance, Rhi exits the car and walks briskly in pursuit of EP and Cristal, as they make their way up onto the very top of the hill. Cristal tucks her hands into the pockets of her pink, self-branded hoodie, as her and EP both gaze out silently over the twinkling cityscape below them. Rhi slides her iPad out of her handbag, and steps up alongside the couple, her expression now having softened slightly as she takes in the beauty of the environment.

RHI LATIONS: It's beautiful.

EL PABLO: It sure is.

EP closes his eyes, tilting his head back slightly as he breathes deeply in and out, bathing his soul and spirit in the calmness and tranquility of nature at night. Rhi watches him for a few moments, before plucking up the courage to pursue her line of questioning once again; this time with a rather softer tone.

RHI LATIONS: Why didn't you show for the press conference, Pablo?

EP does not immediately answer, instead continuing his quasi-meditation for a few more moments before opening his eyes and gazing out toward the horizon once more.

EL PABLO: I'm just tired, Rhi.

Rhi looks up at EP with a quizzical expression.

RHI LATIONS: You're.. tired? Tired of what.. wrestling?

EL PABLO: Oh no, no, not wrestling.. my love for the actual wrestling business is stronger now than it has been for years. It's this whole "war" with Uprising and Wayward Sons that I'm sick of.

I'm sick of talking about Ryan Shane..

I'm sick of hearing about Mike King...


EP lets out a sigh, and tucks his hands into his own pockets.

EL PABLO: This whole thing has gone on for far too long... and I know that's partially my fault.. for not defeating Shane in the Greenhouse Match at Kingdom Come.. for not pulling my head out of the candyfloss clouds quick enough to try and get a revolution-revolution going before the shit piled up too thick to flush away.. for not defeating Shane - again - in the Triple-Threat World Heavyweight Championship match at Event Horizon...

CRISTAL: You suck so hard...

EL PABLO: Yeah, I'm the worst...

Cristal playfully nudges EP with her hip, drawing a brief smirk from the Technicolour Tecnico.

EL PABLO: But, you know what? In the darkest of times shines brightest the beacon of hope... or.. something like that. Just when it seems like everything you hold dear.. everything you love and cherish and have worked so hard to build and bring to a brilliant, beautiful existence is mere milliseconds from being snatched out of your grasp and obliterated.. it is then that you find yourself able to fight with more passion.. more conviction.. more grit, desire and determination than you ever thought possible!

That is the point that Eddie and I find ourselves at going into this match at Desperate Times. I know I've kinda made this point the last few times I've stepped into the ring with Ryan Shane.. but this time CZW really is literally on the brink of ceasing to exist.. at least in any kind of resemblance of the form we all know and love.

Ryan Shane wins; CZW dies.

Mike King wins... I dunno, I guess CZW carries on with all the bottom guys battling it out at the top, while the "Superstars" slug it out to see who's best at jerkin' the curt'in... and, I'm just sayin'.. the Egyptians built the pyramids the way they did for a reason, you know?

The only way CZW is gonna stand a chance of making it back to the level that everybody watching right now knows that it still deserves to be at is if Eddie and I steer this shambolic interpretation of the concept of "Elite" to a comeback worthy of Lazarus, pick up the victory inside the Desperation Chamber on Monday night.. and ensure that total administrative control of the day-to-day running of CZW stays just there.. IN CZW.


Rhi nods, still tapping away on her iPad.

RHI LATIONS: So.. what if you DO win? Any ideas on who the Elite are gonna bestow all this power upon should the decision wind up being theirs to make?

EP turns his head a little, allowing his eyes to lock upon those of the Publicity Chief as a wry smile breaks across his face.

EL PABLO: I've made some phone calls...

RHI LATIONS: ..Care to share the identity of the person to whom those phone calls have been made?

EL PABLO: Well.. that wouldn't do much for the surprise, now.. would it?

All I'll say is.. if Eddie and I DO manage to battle our way to victory inside the Desperation Chamber on Monday night... you, me, Cris, and the entire rest of the watching professional-wrestling community can rest in all assuredness that this company will be nestled safely once again inside the hands of an individual whom history has proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt.. is fully-aware of EXACTLY what it takes to make this company...


EP suddenly turns to face the camera, the smirk still on his face as he "pops" the collar of his hoodie.

EL PABLO: ...Sensational.

The screen fades to black for the final time.
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