Jackson Montgomery sits at a local bar after the events of Road 2 Glory have unfolded. He’d beaten a hall of famer. Not only that, he’d beaten Jacob Trance twice now. The feeling was overwhelming. Jackson was staring at the wall behind the bar at his own reflection before being snapped back to reality by someone bumping into him.
Jackson whips around, covered in beer only to see a woman standing there, covered in her own drink.
Woman: My goodness! I’m so sorry. My shoe got caught on the carpet there and I stumbled.
Jackson started out angrier than blind lesbian at a fish market, but when he saw the 6 foot tall woman with bright red hair, full lips and legs that went on for days, his mood changes drastically.
Jackson: DAMN! Girl, you're finer than a varicose vein on a midget lingerie model! My name is Jackson and don’t worry about the beer, I’ve been covered in worse.
Jackson extends his hand but is greeted with a scowl of disgust from the beautiful woman.
Woman: Whatever freak. I was just being courteous.
The woman grabs a few napkins from the bar to wipe herself down with and turns to walk away.
Jackson: You’ll be back! I’m a future champion and you just lost your chance to sleep with a future hall of famer!
The woman spins on a dime and yells back at Jackson: I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth!
Jackson: Honey, if I were the last man on Earth, you wouldn’t even be allowed in the line.
The woman scoffs and makes a bee line for the exit. Jackson chuckles to himself as he orders another beer. Just then, he notices a commercial come across the TV, which has the volume muted. It’s a commercial for OCW Turmoil. As he watches for around 20 seconds, he realizes he’s supposed to be there!
Jackson reaches in his pocket, grabs a wad and throws it on the bar before tearing out there like a banshee. The bar keep starts sifting through the wad which contains three dollars, an unusual amount of lint, a half eaten mini Ritz cracker, a loose diamond, and a receipt for 12 cans of Mountain Dew Baja Blast. The bartender, irritated at first, puts the three dollars in the tip jar but pockets the loose diamond before anyone can see.
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Jackson Montgomery pulls into the parking lot of the Turmoil arena parking sideways across three spots. Like a nascar driver, he climbs out the window of his 1984 Chevrolet Silverado. He wasn’t doing this to look cool. He was doing this because the door mechanism didn’t work and there wasn’t a window in the driver side. It just makes sense
He damn near breaking his neck climbing out and falling on the ground, Jackson runs full speed at the double doors that lead to the backstage area. When he reaches them, he begins to shake them violently, but they are locked. He screams and begins to pound on the doors hoping someone will let him in. When there is no answer, he leans against the doors and slides down them to the ground. Just then, a familiar voice is heard.
Jim Black: Jackson? Jackson Montgomery? What are you doing beating on those doors?
Jackson: I’m trying to get into the building! I’ve got a match against some masked mexican man. Team something.
Jim: Tekhanu Jr? You know he’s American?
Jackson: AMERICAN?! Him, if you don’t stop yanking my chain, playing my fiddle, pulling my leg, I’m gonna stomp you!
Jim takes a step back: Right...anyway, the doors to the building are over here. You’re beating on the dumpster area. You’re also 2 hours early for the show…
Jackson bolts to his feet looking a little embarrassed: Yea, well, why don’t you go take a long walk off a short pier? American? Pfff…
Jackson whips the doors to the arena open, strolls leisurely inside and letting the door swing shut before Jim can make it. Jim just shakes his head and enters the building.
The camera pans to the announce team.
Bombshell action next!
These women continue to make an impact.
Genevieve vs. Riley Quinn
The camera pans to the announce team.
She's turning some heads.
She always does.
The scene opens with a close up of a missing poster attached to a lamp post. There are a lot of New York Police Officers wandering around an apartment block: the chief detective is talking to an old man, Harry Stevenson. He's Valkyrie's father.
Harry Stevenson: Any news about my daughter? She’s not answering the phone and I haven’t seen her in almost a week.
NYPD Detective: Her smartphone was found stashed in a bin, along with her purse, a few kilometers away from the Madison Square Garden, in which she competed few days ago. All the physical evidences point to a possible kidnapping, even though the motives behind it are still unclear.
NYPD Detective: When was the last time you heard from her? Did she tell you something strange, something out of the ordinary?
Harry Stevenson: It was last week, Sunday night. She was worried for the match she was supposed to have on Riot 499. Ever since my daughter Sarah joined this business, she’s always been tense and paranoid: apparently, the entire locker room was hostile towards her.
He stops for moment, clearly concerned for what was happening.
Harry Stevenson: Most of the other female wrestlers wanted her out from the competition, while others simply bullied her for… you know, the fact she isn’t exactly as intimidating as the average fighter.
NYPD Detective: You see, Mr. Stevenson: this OCW federation tends to employ all sorts of weirdos and freaks: mobsters, pirates, satanists, you name it. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if one of those weirdos has her locked in a basement somewhere, as we speak.
Harry Stevenson: Now that I think about it, there was something strange in her last message…
NYPD Detective: What was that?
Harry Stevenson: She told me that she talked about the Kidnapping of Idùn, a popular Norse myth, to a bunch of kids this Sunday, at the Morgan Library & Museum. She was volunteering there, as usual. It must be a coincidence, right?
NYPD Detective: I don’t believe in coincidences, mister Stevenson. I will head over to OCW and talk to a few people. I need names, though. Can you give me something to start with?
Harry Stevenson: Riley… Riley Quinn. She must know something about this.
