Backstage, Chris Greene and Joe Deaver sit in the catering area. Chris is happily munching down on a plate of pasta, as Joe sits there glaring daggers into the floor beneath his feet.
Chris: Dude, this pasta is absolutely smashing, as the people like Kang would say.
Joe stands up in a flash, stomping.
Joe: Should have been the two of US at Anniversary, man! The Believers against The Future Idiots, tag team titles!
Chris’ brows furrow as he sets his plate down on the table beside him, leaning back a bit before taking a deep breath. Joe turns and throws his hands up.
Joe: What!? You don’t think so!?
Chris stands up and puts a hand on Joe’s shoulder.
Chris: This wasn’t meant to last, Joe m’boy.
Joe: What are you, some old grandpa?
Chris: I would say I could be, but we all know that’s not true. More like I’m Obi-Wan to your Anakin.
Joe: I’m gonna turn into Darth Vader?
Chris: Maybe I should’ve found a better analogy.
Chris pauses to think for a moment, before sighing and shrugging. Joe is confused.
Chris: Anyways, I came back to help you out with the Perfect Storm. That’s all I ever intended to do. Sure, a tag title shot would’ve been cool, but that’s just not where my head is at, my friend.
Joe: So what, it was within our reach! Should we just give up?
Chris: No, Joe. Go ahead and grab those tag titles if you want them. Just… not with me. Find someone else who believes, y’know?
Joe: This feels like a romcom breakup.
Chris: In another timeline, it could’ve been. Besides, it’s better than being hit with a chair, right?
Joe: I think I’d rather have another chair…
Joe begins to pace back and forth, scratching at his chin. He then stops in his tracks and frustratedly whips back around to face Chris, who had already sat back down and continued to eat his plate of pasta.
Joe: Who else am I supposed to team up with, anyway?!
Chris slurps up a noodle before shrugging calmly.
Joe: This really is a romcom breakup, isn’t it!?
Chris: Why’s it gotta be a romcom?
Joe: I’ve been watching some lately.
Chris: Anything good?
Joe sighs.
Joe: Not really.
Chris eats another forkful of pasta.
Joe: Then… give me a match, you dork!
Chris’ eyes widen and he chokes for a moment before clearing his throat with a drink of water.
Chris: What do you mean?
Joe: You and I. Mano a mano. Live in twenty twenty-four.
Chris is visibly confused.
Joe: Helping me out was enough to get you back in the good books. But we’ve gotta run it back, y’know? See who really is the better man.
Chris shrugs.
Chris: I’d say it’s you, considering you’ve been able to forgive.
Joe: No, who the better wrestler is!
Chris chuckles to himself.
Chris: You’re not gonna let this go, will you?
Joe: Nope!
Chris: Alright then, I suppose it’ll do. One match, bury the hatchet. Then we move on. Right?
Joe’s eyes burn with determination.
Joe: Right.
Chris: Cool. Now can I finish my pasta?
Joe takes the plate from Chris and tosses it into a nearby trash bin.
Chris: What the-?!
Joe: I’m doing you a favor. It was cold. NOW GO WATCH MY MATCH ITS COMING UP!
Chris sighs, defeated, as Joe walks away getting ready for his match!.
ANTHONY MARTIN vs. JOE DEAVER
The scene opens with a shot of a wooden table as the camera slowly pans out to show three men sitting around it. All of the men were wearing suits, something you would see out of a mafia movie it seemed. One sat at the head, and the other two sat across from him.
Donnie: And that’s why we came here today.. There’s been rumblings around your name as of late.
Head Man: Oh yeah? And what’s that, cause it feels like you’re just spittin’ random shit, Donnie.
The two men on the other side of the desk look at each other for a moment before returning their focus to the main man.
Guy 3: Well.. We’ve heard you have a new business partner that isn’t us.
The head man let out a little laugh.
Head Man: Yeah? And so what if I do? It’s not my fault that yous can’t get a clue. We’ve had our deal for what 6 months now? And this is the second time that you came here tryin to get on my case.
Head Man: And you know who I am. Don’t make me do that whole thing again.
Donnie: Yes, Mr. Bonucci, we know who you are.. But that company.. It’s had some Turmoil in recent years.
Mr. Bonucci: Look, Donnie.. Mr. Sensation and I had a good conversation. We figured out what works for both parties. For his company, and what’s best for us and this family.
Mr. Bonucci: And if I have to go in there and cause a Riot then dammit I’ll do it.
Mr. Bonucci: Chances are Donnie, I’m gonna have to shake some heads, alright? And I need to know now. Are yous with me or not?
Everything goes quiet before Mr. Bonucci stands up and points to the door of his office.
Mr. Bonucci: And that’s what I thought. Get out.
The Scene fades to black.
PREVIOUSLY RECORDED
Inside of the DNS server Farm, Bash is found typing quickly, clicking keys swiftly with every finger. Bash sips his coffee mug and turns around in his chair. BASH stands up and leaves his office.
BASH walks out into the workout room. He sees JynX who is doing push ups in the middle of the floor. JynX notices Bash and springs back to his feet.
JynX: Mr. X won't stand a chance, his cowardly acts have proven to me that he's frightened. That's a splendid thing I'd like to think.
BASH: Jynx the Liberator of DNS. Scotty X does not deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone grace the same wrestling ring with you.
BASH walks over to Jynx and pats him on the back. He then wraps his arm around Jynx before continuing his speech.
BASH: Total and absolute system failure is the only option when it comes to our enemies Jynx. Scotty X isn’t worth my attention and will be even less so after you are done with. Eradicate the perceived Threat Hunters.
Jynx has an evil grin on his face now. He looks BASH right in the eyes then addresses him again.
JynX: He is one of many threats, which will all be addressed like Mr. X, however, Bolek was dismantled by Telos during the OCW 19th Anniversary show. His failure will be redeemed and I would like to take the liberties into avenging our fallen comrade.
Bash: Our strength is in numbers and communication protocols. We shall not let one single failure define us and will make all that have wronged or taken from the DarkNET Society pay for their transgressions.
JynX smiles devilishly in agreement with BASH. BASH nods and continues to walk toward the back of the server Farm where Samsin Simsin and Samuel Omen are; JynX continues with his workout as the scene fades out.
Sweaty and fatigued, Luis Bishop is seen bumbling through the backstage area as he runs into the large frame of Paul Boulet.
PB: Congrats on your victory, kid! Or tough luck on the loss, I guess, I was not watching. But maybe you will help me, oui?
Bishop:Help you with what?
PB: You sign a leetle papier, I forgive you for insulting me on the Anniversary show. I am still not sure what you were actually trying to say, but I am sure it was pejorative, eh?
He shoves the clipboard at Bishop, and the cameraman zooms in so the audience can see as well. “JUSTICE FOR THE MARIEVILLE HEAVIES” is printed in bold at the top, and it seems to be some sort of petition.
There are only three names on it so far; Ryu Matsumoto, Spider, and a weird messy scribble.
Bishop: What the hell is this?
Bishop takes the attached pen as Boulet starts explaining what’s on the clipboard.
PB: Well, according to word on the street, me and Telos drew big ratings. Word on the street also says it is because “the algorithm” prefers big meaty men slapping meat. Chesticles, if you will.
PB: Now I am not a vain man, but what I see today is that management has booked a main event match entirely around that concept, and yet I am not invited. That is unfair, no?
PB: I survived a match with that madman--keep in mind what he did to poor monsieur Bolek recently, he hit so many chokeslams there was a dent in the ring for the rest of the show--and not only that, I WON!
PB:
I made the metrics AND the imperials go up, and what do I get? Do I get a main event payday? Do I get an award? Do I get a thank you???
Boulet waves the clipboard around.
PB: NON! I GET NOTHING! So sign my petition. Get me in that main event, and I’ll forget your flappy little lips last week, eh?
Bishop: You make some good points.
Bishop: While I am not sure I believe your forgiveness, what could this hurt?
Boulet’s face practically drops in shock, all prepped for a snarky comeback or fiery rant. Bishop takes the pen and signs his name right under that scribbled mess.
PB: Oh. I thought you were going to put up a big fuss like Andy over there.
The camera pans over to a random man in an OCW shirt sprawled unconscious on the floor with a pen in his hand.
PB: I am surprised, but, ehhh… MERCI, PAL.
Boulet puts his hand out for a handshake.
Bishop shakes Boulet’s hand, both men catching the other man off guard with the amount of sweat present in their palms. Both men squeeze firmly, testing the other’s strength. While unwavering at first, Bishop ultimately lets go first, signaling a silent defeat to the pudgy panhandler.
Boulet looks down at his clipboard.
PB: Eh, maybe I can politic my way into a main event after all!
Luis walks off, shaking his head, while the Quebecer plots.
PREVIOUSLY RECORDED
The scene begins on the Wednesday before Turmoil. The sun is rising outside of the Server Farm. The camera pans around the facility from above giving an aerial view of the compound hidden within a quiet neighborhood.
A small figure can be seen outside running wind sprints. The camera zooms in closer and closer until the figure is revealed to be Perl. Perl is in a black DNS tank top and running pants. She runs another sprint before stopping and staring down at her watch.
Perl: Looks like he is moving now. Let’s see if I can get him to teach me some stuff today.
Perl walks to the back door of the Server Farm and opens it. She skips back through the facility over to the office. BASH can be seen sitting behind his desk enjoying a nice cup of coffee. BASH takes a sip of his coffee as Perl enters the room.
Perl pulls up a chair next to BASH. She stares up at the wall of screens BASH has lined up on the opposite wall of the office. Perl takes a quick glance at BASH before realizing he is totally lost in thought reading the information on his screen.
Perl sits there for a minute waiting impatiently for BASH to notice her. She is visibly fidgeting and bouncing her legs. Finally any semblance of patience Perl evaporated. She taps BASH on the shoulder.
BASH continues to be locked in on the screen. BASH begins muttering.
BASH: The DarkNET Society will crumble these kingdoms you old men have built.
Perl is now confused by what BASH just said. She gives a look with eyebrows raised. BASH still continues what he is doing. Perl leans over in her seat and kisses BASH on the cheek.
BASH jumps out of his seat and turns around quickly to see Perl. Another confused stare down between the two occurs for a moment. BASH goes to begin talking but it is as if the words will not come out. Perl decides to quickly interject.
Perl: So I know your little secret about today.
BASH does not appear to be in the mood for games. He takes his left hand and begins to rub his face in a sign of frustration and despair of this revelation. He looks at Perl and takes a deep breath before letting out a long sigh.
BASH: What is it you think you know about me?
Perl smiles at BASH before running out the room. BASH goes to sit back down again but is interrupted by Perl flying back into the room. She hands BASH a box. BASH stares at the box before placing it on his desk.
BASH: Why the box? What is in here?
Perl: Seeing as today is a special day, I wanted to give you something special.
BASH: What is so special about today?
Perl rolls her eyes before quipping back at BASH.
Perl: Uh, today is about you. It’s your birthday stupid.
BASH shakes his head and laughs before returning to his seat. Perl is dumbfounded by the response she just got from BASH.
Perl: You’re welcome, didn’t even open the box.
Perl storms off in a fit of rage. Perl runs over to the ring and calls over HTB. She begins unloading strikes over and over on HTB. After the furious barrage she stops for a moment, breathing heavily before dropping to the ground.
Perl: HTB I want you to emulate BASH.
HTB forms into a near perfect replica of BASH. Perl continues her wild assault on the Hack Training Bot. Perl is screaming at HTB.
Perl: You stupid jerk!
BASH hears all the commotion going on and stands up out of his chair. He leaves his office and heads towards the ring. He begins observing the beatdown Perl is putting on his likeness via HTB.
Perl finally finishes her onslaught, stands up and turns around. She sees BASH watching and smiles at him.
Perl: Impressed?
BASH: Energy is disorganized but the effort was there. Seems you need some actual training.
Perl: So get yourself in here big man and wrestle me.
BASH: I don’t hit women, do you think I am John Carter or something?
BASH: Let us get started.
The scene fades as BASH rolls into the ring to start training with Perl.
