LIVE FROM MADISON SQUARE GARDEN

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Tiberius Octavian Dupree grabs a mic from the nearby ring hand and prances into position like a unicorn admiring a sunrise. A golden freaking unicorn with the deadliest knees known to man. The crowd finally settles down enough for him to speak.

Dupree: Yes I know I’m beautiful, as sure as the sky is blue, as sure as Verse is dead….as sure as…

Boos rain down from everywhere on The Most Entertaining Man Alive. A gaggle of smart marks wearing “Haus of Hoot” gear cackle in the front row.

Dupree: Ok, ok I shouldn’t have mentioned Verse and beautiful in the same sentence...that was wrong of me.

Tibby absorbs the cheap heat into his Better Force increasing his power level with each reaction.

Dupree: But what’s really wrong is some of you thinking SKWAD is finished or disenfranchised...

A true mark wearing a “Franchize Principle” shirt tries to get a Nate chant going but it fails horribly.

Dupree: Is it because I didn’t help Leon a supposed murderer…or because Parker is back and gone full blooded neanderthal again? 

Dupree: Or that Malu has an undiagnosed eating disorder? Or maybe it’s The Butcher’s loyalty?

Dupree: Or is it because TKF party more than wrestle? That Majin and his family abandoned us, or that Alex Robinson is actually a man? Well that last one is probably true, but the rest is absolute trash.

Dupree: Sand-spider in a clocktower levels of trash. You should be ashamed of yourselves, spreading rumors like Madison spreads venereal diseases. 

He absorbs the cheap pops just the same.

Dupree: What some of you don’t understand, well the majority of you don’t... but still I will enlighten the few that may comprehend.

Tibby looks down with a disgusting scowl at an largely overweight fellow in the front row wearing a “Mo’ Cream” shirt and and Bill Ding hardhat.

Dupree: We are not Rev Inc. we are not trying to be something we’re obviously not. We are not sycophants in face paint lead by a dummy in even worse looking face paint.

Dupree: We do not need to hold hands or follow by anyone’s rules but our own. Every single one of us takes OCW by the throat by any means necessary. And that’s the way it’s going to be, in SKWAD we trust.

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It was at that moment that fans who were under the age of fifty finally had someone they could cheer for and relate to arrived to interrupt Dupree’s arrogance.

The brightest spots of OCW, ‘Our Humble Hero’ The Black King and The White Queen were more than prepared to save the OCW universe from the ramblings of yet another part timer.

Fitted with what will probably be the last bit of merchandise that will be made for R.D. Money, Dennis and Madison wore them proudly to honor the ‘Death of Greatness’. Madison adjusted the hospital mask before speaking. 

Madison: “In SKWAD we trust”? Pffft. You just said it all for me.

Madison: All of you, off in different directions with your own agendas, what kind of group of fools are you? You're no skwad, more like a collection of old junk.

Madison: And do you know what the Black King does with old has-been junk? He makes it new again. He makes it look better.

Madison: He takes them into the palms of his hands, shines them up with a knee to the face, and sends them on their way.

Madison: So who will be next? 

Madison: Perhaps… It will be you, Dupree. Will you be the one ‘chosen’ from your little skwad to be added to Dennis Black’s collection of old and outdated wrestlers made better just by being in the same ring as him?

Several fans of the OCW Hall of Famer jeered at Madison’s comments. Dennis taps the mic three times, loudly, taunting Dupree’s supporters.

Dennis Black: Tiberius Dupree, weeks ago I stood in this ring and stated I have not been excited about opponents in quite some time. You don't fit that category. Somehow, you manage to have the second best knees in the business, even while being as brittle as Smythe’s jaw.

Dennis: Now...a week after I made those comments about my lack of excitement, a mosquito buzzed...having the nerve to say he could excite me. I mean I was intrigued for thirty seconds, then he then went on and lost to Pugh in underwhelming fashion with a title on the line.

The audience boos and Madison looks to Dennis.

Madison: Pugh? Oh, you mean the one who has some sort of domestic partnership going on with Bobby Minio? No wait- Union. Domestic Union, that's it. Thankfully with Trump now in power, ‘those’ things will be coming to an end soon. 

Dennis: Let's not get off base here, Madison. I'm out here for one thing. To let Dupree know that a Black Bullet is reserved especially just for him. That he is the penultimate stop on the Black King’s revenge tour before I right all the wrongs that were committed against me...no...us, at Summercide. 

Dennis paces back and forth in the ring, his eyes remained on Dupree.

Dennis: Majin, Parker, Leon Valentine, and Malu have all felt my wrath since interrupting what will go down in OCW lore as the Black Summer. Two men are left. Not tonight, but soon...the world will witness our rematch. 

Dennis: You barely beat me while I was injured, and will have no chance now that I'm in perfect health. What say you, Dupree? Your knees against mine. Present your neck for execution...unless you're looking for another night off with Sean McGee?

Tibby goes to talk but is cut off by Madison.

Madison: Dupree, you say you absorb with your Better Force, but truly, you deflect all relativity. You, like the unicorn you claim to be, are mythological. Fictitious. Fake. Come into the Black light and watch as he makes you real again before he sends you packing back into the dusty history books.

Tibby sighs as if he’s a disappointed parent looking down at unruly children.

Dupree: Are you two finished? Don’t answer that, of course you’re not, you haven’t been humbled yet, you haven’t had your teeth kneed down your gullet just to pop out her vagina like a rainbow of Skittles yet...not you haven’t.

Madison mouths, “He’s humble, he’s the Humblist.”, Tibby talks over her.

Dupree: That’s if you would call what she has a vagina…. 

The crowd pops big, Madison is livid.

Dupree: Everything you say you’ve done or plan to do has been done before, being dual champion, beating a long list of Legends. I did all that too under the Ambition banner, only difference is you’re doing it under a stained banner of entitlement. 

Dupree: You think you’re entitled to revenge against me from a beat down last Summer? Last freaking summer? Seriously? Get over yourself kid, clean up your butthurt like Madison needs to clean Twack’s spooge off her face.

The crowd pops and begin “Spooge Face” chants.

Dupree: Twack is Hideto Matsuda if you didn’t know….you know the guy you so desperately want to be. He embarrassed you at Certified Greatness and now you’re here trying deflect that hurt at my impenetrable Betterness.

Dupree: You will never penetrate Dennis, NEVER! So no you will not get the chance to face me unless you have something to offer me...as let’s say tribute of some kind.

Tibby laughs as if he knows an inside joke, The Black King and White Queen are not amused.

Dennis looks to the Television title around Madison’s waist, and then looks back to Dupree with a glare. 

Dennis: You want tribute?! 

The audience cheered loudly, promoting Madison to quickly stand between her Champion and the hall of Famer. She shook her head repeatedly while pushing him toward the ropes.

Madison: Not happening! You don't deserve it. We have bigger things to worry about, like breaking Parker’s record.

Dennis gives Dupree another look before exiting the ring, followed by Madison.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	This is not going to end well!
	FOR DUPREE THAT IS!

Djesus Djones vs Mr.Graves

The camera pans to the announce team.

	And thats that!
	Boop!

The camera moves slowly down a hallway, with neatly kept prison cells with pillows strewn about in each. All that can be heard is the shuffling of feet, and the occasional whispered conversation.

Each inmate in similar gray robes with sandals outside of their doors. As the camera pans past one cell specifically, it turns and angles down on a specific inmate. Leon sits in a cell, bruised and sleeping on a collection of comfortable looking maroon and gold pillows.

Leon begins to stir, slowly pushing himself up off of the ground. As he gets to a seated position, he looks around, gathering visions of men, all behind bars, when suddenly it strikes him like a kick to the nuts...he's in prison. He gets up, and shakes the prison door...

Leon: HEY! The bloody hell is going on here?!

Suddenly a voice from the cell beside him speaks.

Old Man: Sit down, they aren't going to hear you until it's yard time or time for grub.

Leon: Says the wrinkly ballbag...

Old Man: Have at it champ, but I've been down here for 38 years.

Leon: Where's here?

Old Man: Mianyang Prison my friend.

Leon: Mixing what?

Old Man: Monk prison...essentially. What did you do to get here?

Leon: Nothing. Literally nothing.

Old Man: Didn't sound like nothing when you were put in here. Sounds like you are going to be here for a while.

Leon: *looking growingly concerned* Why, what were they saying?

Old Man: Nothing...they're monks! HAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!!! I gotta introduce you to my card buddies, they'd LOOOOVE to play against you! Hahahaahahaa.

Leon: The hell is wrong with you old man, I'll come through these walls, hit you with a damn pillow and bust your good hip you old gutterslug!

Old Man: *still laughing a bit* So who'd you kill?

Leon: *Leon dead stares the old man* How did...wait...I didn't kill anyone. Why would you think that.

Old Man: The mark on your robe. The red slash, symbols that you're in here for murder.

Leon: I did nothing of the sort. I did, what everyone, everywhere knew needed to be done. I put a...friend, out of his misery.

Old Man: Must have been a monk or something to get you in here. Did you kill someone at a temple?

Leon: I didn't kill anyone. I stopped the suffering...and it was in Texas.

Old Man: UNITED STATES, TEXAS?! Ohhh man, you screwed up big! How the hell did you end up on the other side of the planet for something you did back in the states?

Leon: Hell if I know. I know the cops back in the states had nothing on me. Because I had the consent of Ed to pull the plug. Versus had it coming.

Old Man: ...Versus? You...you killed Versus?

Leon: No, I assisted Versus by ending his pain and suffering. I did the guy a favor. Plus how the hell do you know who he is? You a fan of OCW?

Old Man: OCW? Is that a disease? Like you have to hit the lights 8 times before you go to bed?

Leon: Never mind.

Old Man: You really are screwed then.

Leon: Why?

Old Man: Next door to this prison is a temple, built brick by brick by the hands of the one you 'did a favor for'. Loosely translated...they call it Temple of the Hands of Versus.

Leon looks off blankly into the distance, empty, confused. His eyes roll slightly down, and one eyebrow raises slightly. He takes a deep breath, and exhales.

Leon: Sh*t.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	YOU IN TROUBLE NOW, PAPI!!
	Sheeeeeeeet!

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