The Steve makes his way out to the ring with the percussion of his song blasting through the PA system.
The Steve: Last week, The Steve…
The Steve pauses for a moment.
The Steve: This speaking about yourself in the third-person is tiresome. I’m in my damn fourties’…I’m too old for this s**t. Not only that, like Nate mentioned two weeks ago, I’m a f*****g Hall of Famer.
The Steve:
I have nothing to prove to anyone but myself. I don’t need to try to stand out to set me apart from the rest. And like I told Nate last week, it’s not 2006 anymore.
The Steve: Nate, I was home watching Turmoil two weeks ago. I was having a great time watching the show with Sara and what do we see towards the end of the show?
The Steve:
Another self-congratulatory promo from “The Franchise” Nate Ortiz. (In a mocking tone) “Look at me, I’m Nate Ortiz. Look at all my accomplishments. I’m so great, and The Steve is a goof”.
The Steve:
Sara just walked out of the room when you came on the screen. You remember Sara don’t you, Nate? Sara Sykes? Your fellow Rev Inc stablemate? She has a message for you. Let me see if I can find it.
The Steve fishes around in his pocket for a note. As he pulls his hand out, The Steve stares daggers into the hard camera and flips it off.
The Steve: Yea, she’s not a big fan of you either, Nate. Before I continue, I want to bring up something you said about me stealing your tag team music. Believe it or not, you had nothing to do with it. I stole it because of your tag partner BM Diggs. Screw that guy, he sucks.
The Steve: Speaking of people who suck…Nate, you seem to think this whole thing is about revenge for Wrestlution 10. That I’m still pissed off about a shot at the strap from nine years ago? Are you kidding me? You have been in the OCW bubble for way too long. Nate, this is about you personally.
The Steve: Our paths go back all the way to the end of 2005. A white meat babyface named Steve Jones just got done with his second match ever in OCW in a losing effort to Sideshow The Klown....
The Steve:
I say losing…he whooped my ass from pillar to post. ‘Ol Steve was kind of down after that and needed a little advice, a little guidance. He asked around…he got some absolutely terrible advice from some, and some great advice from others.
The Steve:
The one person back in that locker room that never gave me the time of day…you guessed it, Nate Ortiz.
The Steve stops for a moment to pace around the ring.
The Steve: Let’s skip just a few years ago when I came back to help out someone I thought could be a big player in OCW. One of the first people I tried to talk to was you Nate.
The Steve:
Even then, a lot of time had passed, but you still blew me off. Then, I came back 6 weeks ago. I was getting the itch for one more run, when I noticed your struggles. I figured this could be the opportunity to finally bury the hatchet.
The Steve:
I wanted to help you get back on track. I had nothing but good intentions, but you still couldn’t help looking down on me. Any semblance of respect I may have had for you was gone that day. Nate, I didn’t come back to kick an old man when he’s down, but that’s what I’m here for now.
The Steve continues to talk but no words are coming through the speakers. His mic has been cut. Suddenly Nate Ortiz appears on the screen.
Nate: Sorry about that old pal but that was getting tiresome. So this is all about hurt feelings. Poor you, instead of burying any hatchet you stuck it right in my back.
Nate:
I could give a damn about Sara, never cared much for her either. Given the company she’s keeping these days I was spot on.
Nate: But she doesn’t matter now just another relic of the past that most of the people watching us aren’t even old enough to remember.
Nate:
The fact is you took me out a second time so I owe you. But unlike you I still get asked to do these “Make a Wish” events so I couldn’t be there tonight.
Nate: But the schedule is free and clear next week. So you and I face to face, no more sneak attacks. Face to face, man to man we put it all on the table before Wrestlution.
The Steve goes to answer but his mic is still off, so he throws it to the ground causing Nate to laugh.
Nate: The people have heard enough from you this week, but I got that, see you next week Ironman…
Nate smirks as the screen goes black and an angry Steve glares as the camera cuts back.
We cut backstage to the Turmoil catering area - usually a hive of activity, but it’s eerily silent at the moment - barely a spider in sight.
It’s early in the day - could be 8am, could be 10… it doesn’t matter - all that matters is the camera is zoning in on a figure sitting in a steel folding chair, looking at a laptop screen.
As the camera gets closer, we’re given a glimpse of what’s being watched - a showcase of recent failures - a collection of beatings… evidence that a certain legend might not have it anymore. The man in the chair lets out a huge sigh, and suddenly his face comes into view… it’s Kid Ego himself - Paul Pugh.
He’s fast-forwarding the footage - it’s scrubbing through the last year of his career. Everrett. Perfect Storm. DNS. All maulings. All disasters. He slaps the spacebar to pause the footage on the closing scenes of Riot from last week. The close-up of Mugen. The Reclaimer.
The Living Legend. He slams the lid of the laptop shut and then takes an almighty intake of breath - looking up to the heavens as he does so. He starts to mutter something under his breath
Pugh: I’m not a praying man but if you’re up there and you can hear me… show me the way. I’m at the end of my rope.
He pushes his hands down across his face, lowering his gaze towards the ground before looking up at the camera lens
Pugh: This might be it.
A small smirk appears on the left side of his mouth - breaking an otherwise solemn expression.
Pugh: This… all of this…
He points at the laptop and wags his finger
Pugh: See the last few weeks… the last month… hell the last few years. Loss after loss. Beating after beating. Embarrassment after embarrassment. And for what?
Pugh looks down at the floor again, shrugs and then shakes his head
Pugh: I have no idea. See… my whole career… my whole life. I’ve had a purpose. I’ve been driven to achieve something… something huge. I’ve always been driven to be the best.
Pugh:
To go out there every single week and prove that I’m not the council estate kid that I was. To prove to everyone that I’m more than the sum of my parts… to prove to everyone that I not only deserve to be here but that I deserve to be the man around here…
He looks to the left and smirks again
Pugh: But that drive… that passion. It ain’t here.
He points at the laptop again
Pugh: That guy… that’s not a guy I recognise. See a few weeks ago I was asking myself, why am I doing this? Why am I STILL doing this? I made enough money, I don’t have a mortgage, I live a comfortable life… so why am I still here?
Pugh:
Why am I subjecting myself to this week after week? Why am I being thrown through tables… why is my back burnt to a crisp? Why am I still scarring myself in my late, late 40s?
He shrugs again
Pugh: …and you know what? I don’t have an answer. Well… I didn’t.
He grins and follows it with a sigh
Pugh: Last week though. Something clicked. See… Larry keeps talking about how I’m a stop on his reclamation tour… How I’m just a wounded legend ready to be put out of my misery and you know what? He can go fuck himself.
He smiles again, a fire coming through him like we’ve not seen for a while
Pugh: Larry I will be damned if I’m going to let you minimise my accomplishments - my legacy in this business. I’m not some feckless midcarder. I’m not someone who’s just happy to be here.
Pugh:
I’m the guy who sold out the first Wrestlution in a stadium against Nate Ortiz. I’m the guy who won four World Titles in four different eras. I’m the guy who brought you back into this company and made you relevant. I’m the leader of C4.
He nods
Pugh: …and you Larry. What are you? Well you weren’t the leader in C4, and you’re definitely not relevant anymore, that’s why you’re out here trying to tear strips of people who are… and you’re not a guy who won four world titles in four eras, you just played hot potato with it when the talent pool wasn’t as deep… and you definitely have never sold out a Lution on your own merit… so what the fuck are you… WHO the fuck are you?
He’s fired up as he continues
Pugh: I’ll tell you who you are Larry… you’re a deathmatch twerp with a scarred-up body, a fetish for hitting referees and not one single ounce of wrestling ability. You’re not THE Living Legend. You’re lucky to be living after some of the stupid shit you’ve done in your career.
Pugh: So Larry. Maybe I want to reclaim something… Maybe I want to reclaim my spot at the top of the card… and maybe I’ve got to run through you to get it. So you know what? Let’s stop the sneak attacks, let’s stop playing grab ass. Let’s fight. Wrestlution. Atlanta. 3 weeks. Let’s prove once and for all who the better man is…
He turns back to the laptop, opening it up again. The image of Mugen is still staring back at him as he sits back in his seat. He looks up into the sky one more time as the scene fades
