Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

The scene opens up with Ginger standing backstage getting ready for his segment as the staff busied themselves around him. Ginger straightened his tie and looked into the camera.

Ginger: Ladies and Gentleman, children of all ages. Welcome to a thrilling installment of tea time with me your host Ginger, tonight I interview the winner of the Gentleman Jack vs Seb Abbott match which has just finished.

The curtains to the stage shifted and in walked Seb Abbott a grin from ear to ear on his face.

Seb: Gingey did you see that? 

Ginger: Well yes that's why I'm here, care to explain what's going through your head right now?

Seb: Nah I'm needed by Jim Black for an interview, I'm sure our General Manager will have a word with you when they wheel him passed here. See ya around Ginge.

Seb walked off still grinning as Ginger started getting angry that his interview had gone south yet again.

Ginger: You owe me an interview you pommy bastard.

Seb stuck his finger up as he walked away from the angry Ginger.

Seb: I owe you nothing Red. I owe nothing to no one.

The scene ends as Seb walked out of sight....

Well then, swerved.

Yes indeed.


The bathrooms within the MGM grand stank of urine, as bathrooms tend to do. Graffiti of dubious or no artistic value resembling an attire that the returning Kwan Watts would wear coated the walls.

“Larkspur sucks!" "Down with Sensation!" "Urine big trouble now Denegas LOLz" lending the necessary low class feel to what had become of Las Vegas sporting events. 

Dennis had yanked the chain with unnecessary force, which sent the light bulb swinging wildly back and forth. Rotations of faint light circled the room. The sink was already running.

Half of the room briefly lit up before plunging into darkness as the other side stole the spotlight for itself. It was like a musical. A round chorus of odd luminescence. 

The sound of his World title hitting a hard surface was heard as Dennis leaned forward. He put both hands on the white porcelain sink that stained beige with age, dirt, vomit, and whatever else Tank’s mother may have contracted in her youth.

It was an invitation to a plethora of germs that undoubtedly infected every inch of the bathroom, but Dennis didn't care. He was too busy being furious with the world. With himself.

Dennis: Damn you, Kassidy…you had one job. And where the Hell is Jack! God i’m surrounded by unreliable people!!!

The mirror reflected the top of The Turmoil Champion’s head. His hair was hanging down, showing the trails of fingers that had run through it, frustrated, over and over again as stress and panic consumed him. 

As Dennis looked up, he did it again, pushing his hair back from his forehead and frowning at his exposed face, which, of course, scowled back at him condescendingly. A vein stood out on the left side of his forehead, that may have been all that was left of his sanity. The self made pressure was suffocating. 

Dennis: Ed. Jackson.

Dennis: Jackson...Ed...

Dennis hissed at his own reflection.

Dennis: This is a nightmare.

His caramel face was pale as a caramel complexion could get.

Dennis: You ruined everything, Hayes.

All of the events of the last three hours of Black Sunday arranged themselves before him – and the events before that, and the events before that, all pointing to where he was right now, all stretched out before him in neat chronology.

Dennis: You win the tournament. You go to Summercide. Get a big pay day, and magically get sick before our match. I retain by forfeit...and hold the Turmoil Title for a year. History is mine. Why was that so hard?

Dennis: But no...nothing ever goes my way. 

Dennis: Tonight was to be a celebration in my honor. Then Sensation makes this a triple threat for MY property?! Jackson already had a shot! And Ed...damn it all. If I even get by this, there's another case study for obesity standing in my way. When does it ever end! I deserve better than this. I’m entitled to it. 

He stared into the mirror, perfectly still, studying his face. The doorknob rattled briefly as it was tried and opened. When the door was closed, Dennis slowly turned around and placed his hands on the sink again. 

The rotations of the hanging light bulb had come to a halt when a gloved hand reached out to the grab it. The camera caught a glimpse of what appeared to be blue strands of hair escaping a worn out baseball cap. But it was hard to tell, being so dark in the bathroom. 

A pause flooded the space between the newcomer and Dennis, awkward and ominous.
The stranger held out their other arm to the Turmoil Champion. The gloved hand opened, revealing two white pills. Dennis hesitated before grabbing them. He threw the pills in his mouth and turned to face the sink, cupping his hands to down the pills with water. 

???: I remember when Majin held three titles in one season. 

???: I also remember watching in awe as Nate Ortiz held three titles at the very same time. Here you are stressing over two Championships. Am i to believe either of those men better than you?

Dennis looked up from the sink, and watched the person’s reflection in the mirror. 

???: History is written by the successful. The survivors. The victors. Those are the only voices that mean a damn when it comes to history. To be the best ever, you’ll need to achieve what those before you have done. And then? Build upon it and do it better.

???: Blood has been spilled. Sacrifices were made to get you here. Jack, Heather, Leon Valentine, Ronald Regan...Hideto Matsuda...and the whore of Babylon. All were casualties for the greater good. 

???: No pressure. 

After splashing his face with water, Dennis turned to face them with a nod. 

Dennis: You’re right. Sacrifices have been made. When my career comes to an end, half of this company’s Hall of Famers will be an afterthought and tonight will be one of the many reasons why. Like many who have contemplated and even attempted to take my Championships. 

Dennis: Ed and Jackson will talk down that aisle with hope and vigor in their hearts. But when my music hits, those dreams share the same fate of the bulb you hold in your hand. 

Dennis and the unknown individual look up to the bulb as Dennis reaches for the descending chain. He yanks it, bringing the scene to a close. 


History will be made next!

If he wants to do what he said, he has two tough S.O.B.s to get through.




Triple Threat Elimination Championship Match
Dennis Black (C) vs Big Ed vs Jackson Montgomery

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