The players are set and the game is about to begin!
The scene opens on a shot of Madison Square Garden from the outside. The arena is lit up, and the cacophony of sound that is New York City serves as the soundtrack underneath the view.
The camera pans down to street level, a dirty water dog cart vendor is pouring diced onions over two dogs inside a single bun.
The One Man Revolution Bobby Minio steps out from around the side of the cart, dressed in his street clothes, rubbing the last bits of hand sanitizer into his palms. He turns to the cart operator.
Bobby Minio: I trust that’s all fresh, yeah?
The cart operator scowls, turning his eyes up to Minio, his voice soaking with sarcasm.
Cart Operator: I trust you want a punch in your mouth, yeah?
Minio nods, counting out cash before trading it with the man who gives him the “that’s what I thought” look.
Bobby Minio: I’ll tell ya this New Yorker charm never gets old.
Minio begins to sort out a few dollars in his free hand as the cart operator turns back to help the next customer. Minio hesitates over the tip jar before opening his palm slightly, letting some loose change jingle in, before stuffing the remaining bills into his pocket. He starts walking down the street towards MSG, examining the hot dogs a bit too closely.
As Minio walks along, still contemplating over the food, the hiss from the breaks of a bus rings out, and a number of people our off of the bus onto the side walk in Minio’s path. A sailor in his service dress whites begins to walk past excitedly, but Minio stops the man, pressing his free hand across the sailor’s chest.
Bobby Minio: Hey soldier, I need to you to deliver a message.
Sailor: Pardon?
Bobby Minio: To your buddy Cort Marshall.
Sailor: Court Martial? Who?! What happened?
The sailor looks stressed as he begins to rifle through a duffle bag for his cellphone.
Bobby Minio: Uhhh, look, I think there may be some loss in translation here Gung Ho, you uhh, carry on, keep it at easy. Ooo rah and all that.
Minio continues on through the crowd, the camera following as the sailor watches him walking by, looking extremely confused. As we push through the sidewalks, a few fans catch a glimpse of Minio and run up with excitement across their faces.
They appear to be in their early to mid 20s, one of the fans is wearing an old C4 shirt, another is wearing a Real Osaka Gangster shirt, and the third is wearing a Jacob Trance The Family shirt. Minio stops in his tracks, his eyes affixing on the Trance shirt.
Bobby Minio: Hey Fellas, listen, I’ll take a few pictures with ya, but I have two conditions.
C4 Fan: Anything!
Jacob Trance Fan: What do we gotta do?
Bobby Minio: First off, you-
He points to the fan in the Trance shirt.
Bobby Minio: You have to stand like… twenty… no, how about, forty feet away.
All four people share a laugh, then Minio’s laugh gradually drops, as does the Trance fan as his expression hollows out.
Bobby Minio: I’m dead serious. Over there.
A quick debate springs out in hushed tones between the fans, the other two fans finally convincing the Trance fan of walking away. He complies, looking a bit betrayed by his friends. Minio turns his attention back to the other two.
Bobby Minio: Now my second request is less difficult… but it’s a bit goofy. You boys on board?
They both nod along eagerly. Minio gestures to the fan in the Real Osaka Gangster shirt.
Bobby Minio: I need you to put both of these hot dogs in your mouth at the same time, and say “Matsumoto Number One”.
The C4 fan is laughing, as the TTT mark looks a bit taken aback.
Bobby Minio: Kid, it’ll be great, when Matsumoto sees this he’s going to lose his mind laughing, he loves stuff like this. Trust me, we’re all SUPER COOL backstage… but you know, kayfizz.
The two fans look at each other and finally, Real Osaka Gangster shrugs and nods in agreement. Minio grins, and uses a napkin to scrap the condiments and onions off of the dogs.
He holds them out to the fan who places both in his mouth, looking a bit like a floppy walrus. He chuckles, Minio and the other fan laugh along and the fan begins trying to speak.
Real Osaka Gangster Fan: Msssffftttffuuummmobbbooo Mmmmbbbrrr Rrnnnn
Minio reaches out, slapping an open palm across the fans shoulder.
Bobby Minio: Wow man, that’s just a killer Kassidy Hayes impression. You got his voice down to a science! Here…
He holds out a napkin to the fan who is now looking a bit embarrassed.
Bobby Minio: Clean yourself up. You’re a mess, kid. Now,
He turns to the C4 fan who is grinning still. Minio wraps his arm around the fan’s shoulder, throwing up the finger pistol which the fan excitedly replicates with his free hand as he holds up his phone to take a selfie of himself with Minio.
Bobby Minio: Say “The Steve!”
Bobby Minio and the C4 Fan: “THE STEVE!”
The camera flashes as the fan begins to look down in excitement to check how the photo turned out. Minio pats him on the back, nodding to the fan.
Bobby Minio: Gotta head in and get ready, be sure to get out there and scream your head off as I beat the vague religious references out of a guy named Shepard, deal?
C4 Fan: Deal!
Bobby Minio: Thanks kid.
Minio begins walking, when he turns to the camera man, gesturing him to come around in front of Minio, which the camera man complies with.
Bobby Minio: Time to pay the bills, you rolling?
Camera Man (out of frame): I’ve been rolling…
Minio looks puzzled.
Camera Man (out of frame): Since the hot dog stand…
Bobby Minio: You could really give a dude a heads up… you know what? Doesn’t matter. Just… center me as we walk here.
Minio clears his throat, his expression shifting as his brows lower, a seriousness rolling over his face.
Bobby Minio: It’s unbelievable to me, after week after week of outstanding performances, after beating the Pride Champion just a few weeks back, that I walk into Devils Night matchless.
Bobby Minio:
Honestly it’s downright insulting, but it’s all good. I’m guessing this is just more of Sensation’s punishment for the little stunt I pulled over the summer. Maybe I deserve that.
Bobby Minio: What really upsets me is tonight. They book me as a tuner match for Shepard, after yet another non-title win over a champion.
Bobby Minio:
I’m the man that Shepard should be facing at Devils Night, not some shell shocked jarhead.
He shakes his head in disappointment, before shrugging.
Bobby Minio: It don’t matter though. I’m going to make my mark on that match at Devils Night one way or another. You know what I’m gonna do?
Bobby Minio:
I’m going to make a mockery out of the people upstairs. I’m going to beat the hell out of Shepard, just like I beat the hell out of Cort, and the fans are just going to have to pretend to care about a title match built on fiat currency.
Bobby Minio: Maybe they will clap, maybe they will cheer, but when they realize that they’re watching two men compete for a title after losing to me in the weeks beforehand, you know what they’re going to do? They’re going to chant MY name.
Bobby Minio: Regardless of the outcome, the only man walking out of Devils Night with any actual pride, with or without a strap over their shoulder or on their waist, will be ME. Big facts.
Bobby Minio:
Then, when they come crawling to me, begging for me to take a Championship that is already mine in spirit anyway, you know what I’ll tell them?
He stops his his tracks, a smirk curling up on his lips.
Bobby Minio: “Give me Hayes.”
Minio’s smirk fades as he stares a hole through the lens of the camera. Had he been in a ring at this moment, he would have dropped his mic.
Instead, he points his hand over the shoulder of the camera man, who follows, panning his camera in the finger’s direction. It leads to the exterior shot of Madison Square Garden, where it holds before the scene transitions to ring side.
The camera pans to the announce team.
Haha Classic Minio!
Utterly...disrespectful!
The Xtron Flickers On
A camera fades in from commercial to see Quartz speaking on a cell phone, walking through a backstage area at the final RIOT before Devil’s Night.
Quartz: Rusty… Listen, it’s not my fault you got your car stuck in the snow again. I showed you how to drive on the right side of the road last year.
Quartz grins, seeming to be enjoying the peril his tag team partner has placed himself in.
Quartz: No! We BOTH have matches tonight… and while you’re up against bum ass Harvey Ocean, I actually have a…
Quartz: Stop interrupting me! I--
Quartz shakes his head and starts laughing as Rust shouts at him through the phone.
Quartz: I-- Listen! I cannot come pick you up. I have a match that MATTERS. Drago Cesar is not a pushover like…
Quartz stops in his tracks. The piercing sound of Rust’s voice can be faintly heard as he continues to shout and scream about his car.
Rust is heard after a brief pause with no answer. ‘Hello? HELLO? Did you hang up on me?!’... Quartz does not respond, instead staring intently at whatever is in front of him. The camera, viewing Quartz from the side, does not see what he is looking at.
Quartz: I’m gonna have to call you back…
A confused Quartz slowly ends the call and puts his phone inside his pocket. He takes his hand and slowly removes his PRISTINE SUNGLASSES, showing his eyes to be widened, seemingly fascinated at the sight of whatever he’s looking at.
Quartz takes a small step forward after a few awkward seconds, his head still, but eyes darting in all directions, taking it all in.
The sounds of a paper bag crinkling are heard just off camera as Quartz jerks back, horrified. He continues to stare, scratching his head in a confused manner.
The camera finally… deliberately… slowly… pans over to reveal the source of this fascination…
Long brown dirty dreadlocks hang down the face of an insane looking Code Jackman.
Code Jackman stands totally still… shirtless and carrying a paper bag in his left hand, a bag that was assuming covering his head moments prior. The camera flips between both men as they stand frozen in the backstage area, staring at one another.
Quartz:....
Code: …
Quartz:....
Code: …
Quartz turns his head slightly, not moving his eyeballs off of Jackman, who has not moved a muscle since the camera revealed him. Quartz quickly looks around to see if anyone else notices him, before moving his eyes right back to Jackman.
Quartz:....
Code: …
Quartz:....
Code: …
Jackman begins to squint a bit, seemingly observing Quartz.
Quartz:....
Code: …
Quartz:....
Code: …
Quartz takes a small step back and blinks his eyes to see if he’s hallucinating.
Code: HAH! I win!
Quartz, shocked by the sudden outburst leaps backwards.
Quartz: What? What the hell is your deal, bub’?
Code: Hehe, the staring contest. I. WIN.
Quartz: I wasn’t--
Code: Nobody beats Code Jackman in a staring contest! Ha!!!! HA!!!
Quartz stands amazed at what he’s looking at as Jackman walks right up to his face, slipping the bag back onto his head and does a theatrical ‘spin move’ around the RIOT Tag Team Champion, walking out of the scene.
Quartz stands in the hall area, confused and alarmed… before looking back at Jackman leaving.
Quartz: Gah’ dammit, these Turmoil people are weird.
The camera pans to the announce team.
WELP!
HAH!
Jim Black from the OCW staff is backstage. He wants to get a few impressions before the upcoming match.
Jim: In a few minutes the match between Constance Fury and Ashley Moore starts.
Ashley Moore passes him to make her way to the arena.
Jim: Ashley Moore, Ashley Moore! Can I ask you a few questions regarding your match?
Ashley Moore: Yeah, sure. go ahead.
Jim: Do you think you can win today?
Ashley Moore: What is that for a question? I will win with ease.
Jim: But you have a tough opponent. How can you be so sure?
Ashley Moore: I have never heard of her. So how strong can she be then? That Const… what was her name again?
Jim: Constance Fury and she had a match last week on Turmoil.
Ashley Moore: Oh really? I didn’t see anything last week to be honest.
Jim: Don’t you think you should prepare yourself better?
Ashley Moore: I take it seriously. But if i do my thing nobody stands a chance.
Jim: But don’t you...
She pushes away the microphone he is holding and just leaves him behind being outraged.
The camera pans to the announce team.
Ashley needs to start taking these things seriously!
MILLENIALS!
CONSTANCE FURY
vs
ASHLEY MOORE
The camera pans to the announce team.
Wow how close!
Super close one mistake!
A locker room door opens to find a large empty gift basket sitting on a table surrounded by countless homemade goods. A pair of hands begin lacing the basket with colorful tissue paper. As the camera zooms out, we see those hands belong to none other than Terra Daturas.
Terra: Oh ecastor!
Terra: I truly do hope Ms. Valkyrie loves her present as much as I loved making it. This is one of the best baskets I have ever weaved. So beautiful.
Terra continues to dress the basket before fitting in several gifts. Wrapped food items and beverages in unique-looking bottles are placed neatly inside.
Terra: Herbal mango tea… From my gardens. Planet friendly indeed! Mater Natura spoils us, does she not?
Additional gifts, including soaps and household items are placed inside the basket.
She gently adjusts each item over the next few moments until clapping her hands very quickly in an extremely excited manner.
Terra: Those that choose to be honorable and loving deserve to be recognized. Especially in a world filled with such sadness and hatred.
Terra brings over the final touches, adding more dressing and unveiling a large blue flower. She smiles wide and places it between the basket weaving.
Terra: Turquoise ixia! So beautiful!
Terra gleefully picks up the basket and skips out of the room to bring it to her friend…
The camera pans to the announce team.
Awww.
Hippy SCUM!
We cut to the parking area, where the long-serving default wrestling vehicle--a black Lincoln Town Car--is pulling in. Out of the back climbs Cort Marshall, still in his street clothes… and he brings with him an aluminum baseball bat!
He swings it to and fro with one hand, walking towards the doors to the arena proper. It’s flanked by two security personnel, one of whom moves to block Cort.
Security: Hey, I’m afraid we can’t let you in here with that.
Cort: Excuse me?
Security: You’re going to have to lose the weapon. It’s protocol.
Cort growls back: I think you’re going to have to lose the attitude, son. Ain’t you been paying attention? I got a crazy ex with an inferiority complex creeping around trying to assault me!
Cort:
So either I come in with this, or you ring up Sensation and tell him the Pride champ isn’t on the show because your dumb ass followed “protocol.”
The guard looks at his partner, who gives him a non-verbal “You’re on your own, bud.” He debates for a second before begrudgingly moving aside and allowing Cort inside.
Cort: Thank you kindly.
As he walks through the doors, we cut back out.
The camera pans to the announce team.
YEAAA!
THAT GUARD NEEDS TO BE FIRED! CORT JUST BROUGHT A WEAPON INTO THE ARENA! WON'T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN!
