END GAMES 2020 INTRO
PHOENIX, AZ
The Camera pans to ramp as an old nostalgic tune hits and the duo of Scaggs and Poling head down to the ring!! The packed crowd roars in excitement and begins to chant "OCW" OCW" "OCW"
 |
Ladies and Gentleman THIS IS END GAMES 2020! |
 |
Are you excited? Because I am! |
As the camera fades in from commercials we see Justin Jehst pacing back and forth in comfortable workout attire. Cort stands in the background, not too far away. He sips on a beer, crinkling his brow.
Cort: Cee Cee Doubleyew championship. The BIG one. The people who’ve held that title stand among TITANS in the industry.
He takes a breath, looking off camera for a moment.
Cort: Justin, you ready?
Jehst stops pacing and slowly turns to Cort.
Jehst: I don’t think anyone is ever truly ready. But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
He leans down and grabs his sunglasses.
Jehst: Quartz, Nate, Aries… They were all tests. And while I ultimately failed them all, I gained more confidence in my potential in this business than I’ve ever had…
He slides the shades on slowly.
Cort: Good. You’re gonna need it. I need you drippin’ confidence like a New York pizza drips GREASE, partner.
Jehst: I --- well I don’t know about the metaphor, and I know I made some mistakes in our tag title match last week...but I’m glad I’ve got you at my back at times like this.
Cort: You talk about mistakes? I Cortplexed Mark Reese’s 16:9 ass straight into the ropes. I lost to Twatty Brit Number Two in 10 minutes after they got you injured. I’ve been nothing BUT mistakes lately.
He takes another chug.
Cort: Ugh, it hurts just talking about it.
Jehst: Some mistakes are worse than others.
Justin slowly looks over to an old, tattered poster of The Troupe glued to one of the lockers.
Cort bites his lip. Faux pas.
Cort: You miss her huh…
Jehst doesn’t speak.
Cort: Listen. Neither of us are in a good place. But we COULD be. The past is the past. Forget about it for now. That stuff sucks. It’s stinky. And moldy. Like regret. Regret is what grows on your bread when you leave it out for too long. And we ain’t about STALE BREAD. AM I RIGHT!?
Justin turns to Cort with a palpable energy, pepped and ready. He nods.
Jehst: Ooooooh, that got the juices flowin’ through these bad boys! DOUBLE BICEP POSE! Now let’s get this new ring gear on and get ready to rumble!!!
He opens a locker but it’s empty.
Jehst: They said locker 54...There’s nothing in here…
Cort: Maybe B wanted you to fight him naked? Oh, hold on.
Cort points to a business card lying at the bottom of the locker. Jehst pulls it out and reads it.
Jehst: Colin Locke’s Lock-Up and Storage? That’s one of the new kids right? Maybe someone got the deliveries mixed up.
Cort: Let’s go pay the rookie a visit.
Jehst closes the locker and the pair leave the shot. The camera lingers on a slow zoom of the Troupe poster, centering on Elsa, before eventually fading out.
ELIMINATION TRIPLE THREAT
THE LAST BLACKSMITH
vs. ALEX ASHER vs.
EL PARCA*
A private doctor walks into the room after performing a series of tests on Maxx Edwards's neck.
Maxx: Finally, What's the diagnosis?
Doctor: Once again, your neck is perfectly fine.
Maxx: IMPOSSIBLE! There must be something wrong.
Doctor: We've done several tests and they all come back the same. You're perfectly healthy. Perhaps it was bruised during the match, but all bruising seems to have gone away.
Maxx is overtaken with disgust and steps aside.
Maxx: So that's really the diagnosis huh? Unbelievable.
Maxx: That agrarian crook gets to put on his goofy smile and go on with his day.
Maxx sits down and looks out the window.
Maxx: This isn't worth it. At this rate, I can't keep doing this, not unless some things change around here.