Negative One vs Duchess vs Santa Claus vs Freakshow vs Roderick McRatrick vs Venom vs Mr.CableAccessTV vs Lindsay Troy vs Jack Blade

The winner of this battle royal will get the honor to be the very last A1E Superstar to enter the Pier 6 Brawl, thus having the best chance to win the Brawl, at A1E's Bloody New Year Pay Per View.

Check profiles if needed.

thankyouverymuch
A1EBookingCommittee
http://www.a1e.ca

*BEGIN TRANSMISSION*


(Deep within the heart of the Collective Base, Wuai has built a small dojo secretly so that her hired Bounty Hunter, Venom, may have a place to exercise and meditate for his upcoming match)

(The only lights visible are the gleaming brightness of candles that have been scattered around Venom, who is meditating in a crossed leg position as he faces a shrine of the Great Buddha)

(His concentration seems to be UNBREAKABLE as Venom begins to speak while still having his eyes closed)

VENOM: I have traveled over many lands and have seen many things during my travels that have left me both amazed and confused, but nothing has ever given me both of these emotions at the same time.

And as I wait and watch my PREY, I begin to notice that these two emotions have struck me in a way, which no other has. The very simplest things about him make me begin to believe that he is both ignorant and intelligent, to a point that can only be described as CHAOTIC.

This combo of human emotions leads to one thing, and one thing only, which is a threat to not only himself, but to an organization who has hired me to complete one simple task, EXTERMINATE HIM!

(Venom's eyes open. His head slowly turns to the camera, showing no emotion what-so-ever)

VENOM: I am referring to you, EIGHT! The so-called masked menace that has my contractor in an uproar. Believe me when I say these words, Eight - "Don't mess with the devil, you'll only end up being burned!"

(Venom rises to his feet just before clapping his hands together, which is a command that turns the dojo's lights on, revealing all the technological equipment stationed within the dojo)

VENOM: My priority is set - exterminate the pest and fulfill my contract. However, it does not mention anything about having a little fun first.

It seems I have been given an opportunity to claim a spot in A1E's Bloody New Year for the Pier 6 Brawl.

(Venom pulls out an opened letter from the A1E Booking Committee, inviting him to participate at A1E's Tuesday Night Warfare)

VENOM: I myself am a fan of competition, my entire life has evolved around it, and I am not one to pass up opportunities such as this one.

(Venom walks up to the shrine and reaches out to grasp his black Rosary Beads as he wraps them around his hand)

VENOM: I'm looking forward to hear from all my competition, and I'm sure that they ALL have some form of blabbering technique to enlighten me with, which, in the end, will only get categorize under the simple explanation of "Who gives a fuck".

(Venom, while slinging his Rosary around with his hand, gives the camera a serious stare)

VENOM: Eight, our time will have to wait. Until then, however, I shall take care of your partner in crime.

It is time Negative One that I expose to the world - just WHO you really are!

Believe me, they are all DYING to know

(The camera turns to static)


*END TRANSMISSION*

We're backstage in wherever, and Squiggy Jackson is standing by with (who else), Roderick McRatrick.

SJ: Alright, I'm here with Roderick McRatrick, who will be in the Christmas Battle Royal, which will serve to be a preview of the Pier Six Battle Royal at Bloody New Year.

RMR: Hey, aren't we going to talk about my win over Atkins?

SJ: No, because you ended up losing the match to Slambo.

RMR: No I didn't. I'm undefeated. How could I have lost to Slambo...

SJ: (interrupting) ...twice.

RMR: No, not twice. How about... zeroce... no... nonce... ummm.... what's the word I'm looking for?

SJ: I don't know! I don't even know what language you're looking for!

RMR: Well, a big help you are. But no matter how you say it, I am undefeated! UNDEFEATED!

SJ: Then explain this...

Squiggy pulls a VCR and TV set from off camera and shows Roderick the pinfall that Slambo scored on Roderick.

RMR: Oh, I can perfectly explain that!

Silence

SJ: Well?

RMR: Oh, you actually want me to explain it. Well...

Roderick tries to run off, but Squiggy grabs him by the collar and drags him back.

RMR: Ouuuu! You're hurting my spina bifida!

SJ: You don't have spina bifida!

RMR: Yes I do! It's right next to my medulla oblongata, and between my quod erat demonstratum and Cornelius Bennett!

SJ: Do you even know what spina bifida is?

RMR: Actually, the burning question is, do YOU know what spina bifida is?

SJ: Yes, it is. It's the...

RMR: EXACTLY! I thought not!

SJ: Oh geez. Anyway, I'm still waiting for you to explain that.

RMR: Okay okay, it's all quite simple. That's a body double.

SJ: What? But...

RMR: Well, it's all quite simple. You see that birthmark on the pinees shoulder? Well, I don't have that birthmark there. Therefore, I did not lose the match! And I'm still undefeated!

SJ: Wait a second. I could have sworn I saw a birthmark on your shoulder before... let me see...

Squiggy goes for the shirt, but Roderick swats the hand away.

RMR: Stop.

SJ: But...

RMR: I said stop.

SJ: Jesus Christ... Alright, anyway, what do you think about the Battle Royal?

RMR: Well, I have it locked up. No use talking about it. We might as well talk about Christmas, specifically, what I'm getting.

SJ: That's absurd! How can you not talk about the Battle Royal! Do you know what's on the line?

RMR: No. Is it a beard and moustache trimmer? Because I really need one of those. Oooh, or maybe it's a set of wax fruit!

SJ: No! It's the right to be the last entrant into the Pier Six Battle Royal at Bloody New Year!

RMR: Oh... that's better than wax fruit, but not as good as a beard and moustache trimmer. I guess that's gonna have to do.

SJ: Brother...

RMR: But it doesn't matter. It's as good as mine, because I am a shoo-in to win.

SJ: How? I mean, did you look at the people in the match?

RMR: No, but I'm sure they're all going to concentrate on each other, leaving me to skulk about until I can hit them with the strategy!

SJ: Strategy? What strategy do you have?

RMR: Do you think I'm going to blow my wad now? No! I am going to keep it a secret until the time's come!

SJ: You didn't think of a strategy yet, did you.

RMR: Shut up! Man, I can see you're only getting coal in your stocking for being such a jerk. Unlike me, who's been a good boy this year! Oh, I can't wait until Santa Claus gives me all my presents!

SJ: Presents? Are you serious? You've been bad enough this year that you're probably getting a coal mine for Christmas!

RMR: That's a lie and you know it! I've been such a good boy this year! I picked up that lady's books when she dropped them!

SJ: Yes, and you ran off with them, presumably to pawn them.

RMR: That's a lie. Besides, I was going to give the money to charity. And how about that time I helped that little old lady across the street?

SJ: Are you serious? You drug her across the street so you could give her a curb stomp!

RMR: That couldn't be further from the truth! Besides, she was asking for it. C'mon, you're just jealous that I'm getting the last spot in the Pier Six AND a beard and moustache trimmer and you're just getting coal.

SJ: No, I'm...

RMR: But that's enough. I gotta go finish my Christmas list so I can give it to Santa!

Roderick runs off.

SJ: If he even gets a used tampon for Christmas, there is no justice in the world.

Fade-out

We're at a mall somewhere in Long Island, and Santa Claus (not the real Santa, but one of those mall Santas) has a kid on his knee and a line of kids waiting to tell him what they want for Christmas. Well, a line of kids and Roderick McRatrick, who's pushing folks out of the way to get to the fake Jolly Ol' St. Nick. He gets to the front of the line, where Santa has a kid on his knee.

Kid: And I want a PlayStation 2 and a pony and world peace and the new Power Rangers action figure and...

RMR: Alright kid, that's enough.

Roderick takes the kid off Santa's knee and puts him down. The kid starts crying.

Kid: Waaaah!

RMR: Shut up, you douche, you've been on his knee for long enough. Let me get a turn!

Roderick plops on the Mall Santa's knee.

Mall Santa: Ouch!

RMR: Ahh can it. Now, here's what I want for Christmas.

MS: Aren't you a bit old to be sitting on my knee, son?

RMR: Oh no. I'm only 6 years old.

MS: Six years old? And you have a handlebar moustache like that?

RMR: You ever see that movie Jack?

MS: Yes, yes I...

RMR: Yeah, neither have I. So just listen to what I have to say.

MS: Will it get you off my knee any quicker? I think you're cutting off circulation to my foot.

RMR: Ahh quit'cher bitchin' and let me talk.

MS: Okay, okay, what do you want for Christmas, sonny boy?

RMR: Well, I want wax fruit, and a beard and moustache trimmer and...

Just then, Roderick cold-cocks Santa across the face, knocking his beard and some teeth out of his face. Santa falls to the ground, and Roderick stands up, as all the kids are screaming and crying behind him.

RMR: Who da man!

As the Mall Santa tries to get up, Roderick pounces on him and punches him in the face several times. He gets up and starts to kick and stomp the convulsing and bloodied Santa. He then picks Santa up and gives him the Backstabber. He turns Santa over on his back and gets up, calling over to the kid who he took off Santa's knee, and who is sobbing his eyes out.

RMR: Hey, you, come over here and count three for me.

Kid: (sobbing) No...

RMR: Hey, do you want me to do this to you?

The kid bawls some more, but shakes his head, and goes over. Roderick pins Santa and the kid counts one, then two, then starts crying again.

RMR: Hey kid! Count three or else I give Santa a curb stomp!

The kid counts three and Roderick gets up hooting and hollering like he just won the World Title. He then grabs Santa and drags him over to the camera. He holds Santa's bloodied face up to the camera and talks into it.

RMR: Hey, Santa Claus, you better do the right thing and give me the beard and moustache trimmer AND the last spot in the Pier Six or else I'll do to you like I did to the fake Santa. Yeah, you don't want that to happen now, do you? Do you? Then you know what to do.

Roderick drops the fake Santa and walks out of the mall with his hands upraised, hooting and hollering.

MrCATV is walking around the back stage area of Madison Square Garden. He is wearing a white Shaun Alexander football jersey and is drinking a YooHoo.

I must say, I really like the way this match is shaping up. I see Miss Troy and Duchess have taken the time to introduce themselves to eachother. For some reason, I knew this was going to be the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship. As far as my answer to Duchess's offer....

Thanks, but no thanks. I mean, it would be a great privelege to work with you and your "silent" partners, but I have a feeling I'll fare much better if I keep my options open. MBE is the past, the PTP is the past, A1E is a whole new world to us and the last thing I need right now is a bunch of lackeys to depend on to help carry the load.


It looks like this match has also given the opportunity for Venom and Negat1ve One to have a word with eachother. I never thought I'd see the day when the Collective got this much attention from other wrestlers. Last I remembered, they were working Saturday Night Supernova and the occaisional dark match on Wednesday night. I'm glad to see their careers went in a positive direction. Yous twos, I don't really know what to make of. The new recruit and the arch nemesis, the classic foil. Well guys, if I can pry your attention away from eachother I'll gladly give you a chance to show the Collective what you're made of. Test your skills on a crafty veteran, just see how far it can take you. I for one know that neither of you have a chance of eliminating me.

Yeah, yeah, Neggie, I know what you're going to say... "Well, I did beat you just last week." Uhuh, no dice, that's not gonna work on me. As far as I'm concerned, Bellview pinned me, Bellview beat me. You did win the match, Ill give you that, but no postulate that says "if A beat B and B beat C then A can beat C" is gonna be proven in the ring. That first match took me a li'l bit to reacclimate myself to the ring, but from here on out my problems are nonexistant.

Rodderick, I see you've taken it upon yourself to find Santa and give him a li'l warmup, so to speak. I don't know if that was a good move or a bad move, but now you're gonna have to deal with Santa's wrath once Christmas comes. Someone may be getting a lump of coal in their stocking or maybe a lump on their head courtesy of the jolly ol' fatman.

So Lindsay and Duchess cancel eachother out, Venom and Negat1ve One cancel eachother out, as do Roddy and Santa. So that then leaves Freakshow and Jack Blade, which luckily for you all are waiting in my locker room for me.

MrCATV comes to a door with his name on it, and opens it to reavel a two cardboard cutouts of Freakshow and Jack Blade.

Long time no see Freakshow. Cable shakes his cardboard hand So how do you like it here in A1E?

MrC...err Freakshow: I must say its great to be here, the competition is out of this world.

MrCATV: Now have you heard about Duchess' offer for this week's Battle Royal?

Freakshow: Yes, I have, and I'd like to let Duchie know that I'll be there for her every step of the way. If she needed someone to help her through this match, she couldn't have come to the better people.

Jack: Yeah...

Cable pushes the figure of Jack Blade to the ground and quickly nudges over the cutout of Freakshow after.

Ahh, this is stupid. What I'm getting at is that Freakshow and Jack Blade better have a lot up their sleeves or else I can cancel the both of them out as well. So if everything works out correctly, it all leaves me free and mobile. I can help somebody out when they need it or I can toss you out of the ring if you're a little too preoccupied. Either way, I'm the most dangerous person in the ring at all times, the X-factor so to speak. I'm just getting more and more excited for this match as the night closes in. My rise to the top begins now, and there ain't one person in this Battle Royal thats gonna stop me.

MrCableAccessTelevison
"The whole f'n thread!"

***Duchess is seen walking down the aisles of Sak’s Fifth Avenue in New York, New York, the sight of this week’s edition of “Tuesday Night Warriors. She has several bags already, the lady has been busy. Dressed in a long brown suede skirt, with a ivory sweater, and brown suede boots, Duchess is obviously taking some time out for her favorite hobby.***

You know I love New York, after Paris and Milan, it’s my absolute favorite shopping spot. It’s amazing the amount of people teaming around this city. Of course, it is a whole lot easier shopping without all the Christmas hoohaw. Oh well, it’s not as if I’m going to let the teaming masses of humanity keep me from the perfect pair of black pumps.

Moving on, at this weeks TNW, I am competing in a battle royal. I would mention that I’m undefeated, but I’m afraid that would make me sound too much like Roderick. Besides, two matches, isn’t a whole lot to have under your belt, or to brag about.

So the prize this week is the last entry position at the A1E Pier Six Brawl, which I will admit that even while working for the competition, I always tried to catch. I love a good brawl.

There are going to be a whole bunch of A1E rookies in the ring on Tuesday, me, Freakshow, Mr. CATV, Negative 1, and Santa Claus. Excuse me, Santa Claus, somehow I would have expected the jolly fat man to have more important things to do the week before the big night. Oh well, not my problem. Venom, I don’t know much about, except that he has it in for Eight and Negative 1, whatever, a man with focus. One of the things I am looking forward to is meeting Lindsey Troy in the ring. I mean, she’s been very successful in A1E, and I’m always interested in meeting another woman who has made her way in this business.

Let’s see, who else, Roderick McRatrick, been there, beaten that. Next. Gees, Duchess, no need to be a bitch. Save it for that troll eyeing my blue suede boots.

Yeah, focus on the match now, the shoes later.

Let me see, there are going to be nine of us in the ring, but most importantly to me, Freakshow, and Jack Blade are competing in the battle. I would propose that my two former partners and I might be able to come to a small agreement. I would think that the three of us could dispose of the rest of the competition, and then battle it out for the prize. Just think about it gentlemen, you both know that you can trust me to hold up my end of the agreement.

Anyway, I have a few more hours before my scheduled training time, so I’m going to see what this truly magnificent shoppers paradise has in the way of Prada, and Stone Mountain.

So James, Jack, give me a call, you both should still know the number.

***Dropping the cell phone she had been holding in her purse, Duchess head down the aisle toward the shoe department. The camera watches as she stops to pick up a pair of black pumps. Fade to black***


jem

Cable has moved out of his Portland apartment, and has brought all his essential necessities to his old condo overlooking the bay in Boston, MA. He comes to the door with a duffel bag over his shoulder and reaches in his pocket to fetch his keys. He turns the lights on to find the place basically empty except the furniture that was there before he had moved out over a year ago.

Damn this place brings back memories....

I can remember being so proud bringing home my MBE Unified Title when I first lived here with PILE and AussieB. Late nights with Freakshow playing pool while discussing how nervous I was coming into my first match against The Spoiler. Hell, I can even remember the smell of Freakshow's world famous quesadillas when he would cook for Duchess and myself.

Back in those days, living here was an honor. It meant that you were a Prime Time Player, practically the Untouchables of MBE. Countless belts have past through these hallways and every member was there for eachother at a drop of a hat.

I know it's been a while Duchess, but I'm a tad bit disappointed to be slighted in your little agreement. Oh well, I guess I won't lose too much sleep over it; those days are long past us anyway. Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself by moving back in here with a record of zero and one in A1E. I'd hate to tarnish the good name of this place. I figured it would help me get my focus back, and living in mother's basement had its downsides anyhoo.

MrCATV makes his way to the leather sofa in the front parlor, and takes a seat. He opens up his duffel bag and pulls out a glass bong and places it on the coffee table. The table cuts away for a moment and all that can be heard are *glug, glug, glug* noises. The camera pans back to Cable as he exhales a cloud of smoke.

Focus....

It comes in the strangest places and times. Its something you really need at all times, because if you lose it just one second... BAM, you're a dead man. I could tell in my first match back that, although I still know my way around a ring, my focus isn't quite at the level I'd like it to be. That's alright though, nothing a few more bouts in the ring won't fix.

This week, I got myself a nice little Battle Royal to help straighten that out. If there's one match you need to be completely focused in, this is it. Luckily for me, I have a little experience in Battle Royals. My first match ever was a Battle Royal, and although I didn't quite pull out the victory, I proved to everyone that I would be a force to be reckoned with in the not so distant future.

And that right there is my goal for this match. I don't need to go on to some Pier Six Brawl at the PPV, granted it would be nice, but my Prime Objective is to just show everyone involved, and even everyone else backstage that may be watching how lethal a competitor I can be. Duchess, Freakshow, Jack, I'm sure you all may have some recollection of what it is I speak of. Whether on the same side of the ring or the opposite, that memory must linger in your head of a blur flying through the air and taking heads off.

The rest of you, on the other hand, have the esteemed privelege of finding out first hand this week. Let me be the first to tell you that it ain't a pretty sight. Negat1ve One, as far as I'm concerned we have a little unfinished business to take care of. I know you went on to beat Bellview in our little three way dance, but that doesn't really concern me all too much.

I'm not gonna walk in this match and try to play in safe by staying away from high-risk maneuvers. Nah, thats not my style. Hell, I'll even risk eliminting myself if it means taking out one or maybe a handful of you all at once. Thats just the way I like to work; I'm gonna go out there and give it everything I got and if it all works out to plan, I'll walk out victorious, but even if I'm not you will all realize why I call myself MrTuesdayNight.

Neg1 Logo fades into the top of the Statue of Liberty at Midnight. A shadowy form can be made out in the crown, looking out, and the distorted voice of Negat1ve One is heard clearly in the night.

What an appropriate setting.

Christmas time in New York City.

It's the perfect irony.

Because in this time of joy and loving, I will be supplying neither to Venom.

Instead, I will be showing you the most unfortunate error of your misguided ways. You speak to Jimmy about dealing with the devil, yet you openly associate with, and accepted a contract from, those who would fit right in amongst the damned in the Inferno. I thought you would be one of some honor, Venom, but it appears I was mistaken. I suppose it matters not, because the paths we have both chosen to follow are going to collide in a most violent fashion no matter what we think of each other, which I was fully prepared for in the first place. Now more than ever, I must be, because it seems you have it in your mind that you have some right to reveal my identity to the world.

YOU HAVE NO SUCH RIGHT!

Know this now, Venom, and remember it, because I do not wish to repeat it. I will determine the conditions upon which I reveal who I am, and it certainly will not be an honor bestowed upon you nor upon the Collective. Only after my debt to Jimmy, and to all the lives ruined by the Zahns and their petty grabs for power, have been repaid will I set the wheel in motion where I show the world just what lies under this humble mask.

This is no mask of shame for myself. This is no attempt to hide my own devils and demons from view. It, along with this uniform I wear, is simply a means to show the Collective what they are losing sight of, and what Jimmy never did lose sight of. Collectivisim isn't about genetic experimentation and illegal activities. It's about finding a common voice. A voice which I, though I never thought I would speak for it, I had always admired in my own way.

Our war, Venom, has finally reached Ground Zero. I am sure we will have many more such battles to come, ones where we will no doubt have fewer... distractions.

Distracted is certainly a word I would use for Roderick McRatrick. Tell me, what concerns you more? Actually winning your matches, or coming up with excuses and double talk to confuse and bemuse the interviewer seemingly assigned to you? Yes, I'm aware, you say you've won every match you've been in here, and that it's impossible for you to lose.

Cute.

Now... more serious matters. Mr. Cable Access TV, it seems you are reunited with your friends in the Prime Time Players in a match where the four of you will all be at odds sooner than later. It's not the in-ring reunion any of you four were imagining, were you? I'm going to possibly be doing you a favor by cutting it short so that you can regroup for a more favorable set of conditions. I would make a comment about Duchess and her shopping being a distraction from the greatness she has achieved before, but I know better. This woman has more substance to her than she lets on. And Cable Access, you must be wishing for a chance to finish what was started. It is already finished by my count. You have nothing to prove to me. You have already admitted what kept you from winning, and you wish to rectify it. I wish you well in your quest to do just that. But I will not allow you to stop me.

Freakshow, however, I wish to give you a special bit of attention tonight.

It is my understanding that you had a small hand in founding the Collective.

I would be interested to know what you think of this most recent turn of events within its confines. If anything at all.

As for the rest here in this match, I will address you once you have made yourselves known. I wish you all good night for now, until next time.

*click!*

*BEGIN TRANSMISSION*



(Deep within the Collective base, we find Venom yet once again in the Collective's newly built dojo)

(He is sitting in the middle of the padded floor with his legs crossed. His eyes are closed as he meditates while holding complete composure and at the same time a strong form of alertness)

(Venom is suddenly surrounded by 10 of the collective's masked men - several of them holding samurai swords, others with kendo sticks. They slowly approach Venom, who is still sitting quietly and motionless in the middle of the floor. One of the men silently rushes toward Venom, who quickly flips the man on his back and chops him across his throat - Venom still sitting patiently)

VENOM: If you've come to eliminate me, as an attempt to stop this "Bounty Hunter" from fulfilling his mission, then I advice you to "attack me with full force".

That my friends will be your "only" shot in exterminating this man that sits before you!

Now - RUSH TOWARDS ME!

And I will show each of you, why it is not wise to put your faith in a 2 pound midget that goes by the name of... ...Point-Five!

(All the masked men rush toward Venom - one in particular jumps in the air and attempts to attack Venom from above. Venom, with a quick reaction time, immediately jumps into the air and meets the opponent with a swift kick to the chest - sending the masked man across the room, knocking over two other men)

(As Venom touches ground, he quickly foot sweeps another opponent, who crashes to the floor, and while rising to his feet, Venom round house kicks another opponent across his face. Venom imediately dodges one of the men, who is attempting to cut "the Bounty Hunter" into sushi. The man lunges at Venom, who dodges the attack to only grab the mans wrist and palm strikes against his arm - snapping it in half - just before kicking the man in the gut and performing an Axe kick to the back of the man's head)

(Venom turns around and sees four other men charging him. He kicks an already beaten man, who is curled up, across the floor which knocks over three of the men charging him, yet one of them jumps the body and continues charging)

(The Collective memeber swings his sword viciously at Venom, who dodges everything that is thrown at him, until a lucky swipe cuts across Venom's midsection. Venom's eyes light up with a firery rage as the masked man performs a downward stroke with his sword, only to be caught between Venom's two palms)

VENOM: You made a "mistake" in thinking that this was going to be "easy" for you!

News flash - NOTHING'S EASY!


ESPECIALLY DEFEATING ME!

(Venom quickly front kicks the Collective memeber in the chest knocking him against the wall of the dojo)

VENOM: Do me a favor - stick around!

You might learn something.

(Venom throws the sword at the man, as you watch it pierce the man's shoulder, pinning him against the wall)

VENOM: So, Point-Five and his sideshow freak think they can get rid of me that easily?

They are more incompetent than I thought.

Now before I even begin to speak about my delightful and amusing "TARGET" I've been assigned to eliminate - I wish to draw my attention to a particular individual who seems to be the "prima donna" of this filthy federation.

The queen of blabber mouths.

The one, who uses her mouth as a weapon - in more ways than one - rather than her martial arts skills {if you would even refer to them as such}.

You know Ms Troy, I really only have one "IMPORTANT" thing to say to you...

Do us all a favor and SHUT THE FUCK UP!

For you to think that winning this match is going to be a breeze makes me believe that not only are you incompetent like Point-Five, you are as gullible as Negative One in believing that Eight will be able to dodge our little encounter forever.

I do not FAIL Ms. Troy!

Nor do I take comments aimed at one's identity, lightly either.

You wish to concern yourself in "MY" business, and continue to talk and jabber your jaws about how you plan to "ELIMINATE" me?

Then I shall do the rest of the competition a favor - after I take care of my "TARGET" I shall reward you in a FREE SHOWING of what a "REAL" martial artist can do.

One way or another - you will learn some manners, preferably the HARD WAY!

As for Negative One...

You're giving "ME" orders now huh?

You can not control my actions, as I do what I want, when I want!

You talk about finding a common voice! The only voice you will be hearing is the sound of your own screams as I punish your body to limits you can only dream about.

And YES! I know your "SECRET"!

However...

I care nothing about it.

YET, I shall expose to the WORLD that you are nothing more than a COWARD hiding behind a mask, who's protecting nothing but a lost cause. You wish to help Eight in destroying Wuai and her vicious collective?

Well inorder to accomplish your goal, you must first pass through me! And I assure you, I will reach my goal and fulfill my mission way before you even have a chance in achieving yours!

Your existence will soon become to an abrupt end, as I shall show you what happens when you've been marked by VENOM!

As for the rest of you... you may believe that each of you have the antidote to eliminate my threat, but you shall all FAIL because even if you unite against me, I will tear into your hearts and poison them.

My task I will complete - this I PROMISE!

If you wish to challenge my promise - please step up - I always enjoy challenges, even if the results are already in my favor.

(Venom walks out of the dojo, leaving the mass of bodies lying on the ground)


*END TRANSMISSION*

Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, sitting down on a leather sofa. She holds a piece of paper in her hand, and she looks slightly amused...

Let me get this straight...I go from dismantling a persistent thorn in my side to tiptoeing through the tulips with this group of relative second-tier "athletes" and newbies?

The camera zooms in to the paper, which is a facsimile copy of this week's booking sheet, straight from the desk of Nathan Houston. On it lists the participants in the "Christmas Battle Royal". After a moment, the camera zooms back out, and Troy smirks.

Hey Nathan, since you practically gift-wrapped such a nice present for me, you can expect a nice imported Merlot straight from the vines of Italy as your Christmas present. Or your Chanukkah present, whichever holiday suits your fancy.

But y'know somethin...maybe this little three-ring circus isn't such a bad idea. After all, I'm weilding A1E superiority over the rest of the clowns I have to go up against this week, and since I am a wise and ruling Queen, I suppose the subjects who have thus far spoken out should be addressed.

Firstly, Venom...I hope you're familiar with the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", because I can assure you that in case you do happen to fail in your mission to annihilate Eight, like so many other Collective members have failed in doing, I'd be willing to wager that Wuai would be serving your balls on a silver platter alongside a traditional Japanese delicacy. And, as much as I'll admit that the woman is psychotic, she doesn't like to see failure. And rightly so. If you were the head of a group of crackpots who have more amphetamines and stimulants circulating through their body than they do red and white blood cells, you'd be a little off your rocker too. If you fail this week in trying to take out Negative One, which I'm sure you will, how do you expect to formulate your answer to her? Not only are you going to fail in that regard, but I'm going to toss your Jet-Li lookin, confused religious ass over the top rope and onto the floor so fast that you're not even going to have the chance to decide whether you're Buddhist or Christian.

Secondly, Roderick...oh, what to say about Roderick. I think you need to decide whether you're a contender or just retarded. Honestly, I think you might be the latter, but I do agree with you on one thing...how the hell did you lose to Duchess? I can excuse you losing to Slambo, because the clown isn't one to laugh at...in fact, he's quite good. But even EYE am in disbelief that you lost to a poor woman's me. Maybe you're right...maybe that match didn't happen. Maybe it was just a nightmare that manifested itself in front of our very eyes and into the homes of thousands of people watching us on TV. The only present you're getting from Jolly Old Saint Nick this year is the pleasure of watching me throw all the rest of you jackholes over the top rope and going on to getting that sweet, sweet number 30 slot in the Brawl.

And now...the little Princess. Aren't you ever the fucking apple polisher? You need to get your head out of the bargain bin and clue in to just who it is you're dealing with.

Let's get one thing straight right off the bat: I don't like you. I think you're a disgrace to this sport. You spend more time stroking a soda machine and swiping your credit card than you do acting serious about the opportunity that you have in A1E. I don't give a shit that you've won the MBE Tag Titles, nor do I care that you've been the MBE Unified Champ.

I piss on those accomplishments. And do you know why?

Because I'm simply just better than you.

So Princess, you just stick to the things you know: shopping, nail polish, shoes, your cheap American-made SUV, and your quest to get a second-rate stable back together.

As far as you being all happy-go-lucky about facing me in the ring, you'd better wake up and smell the Diet Coke. I'd consider you lucky if the worst thing I do to you is put you in the hospital just like I did Thalia. Just bury your head in the sand, wait for your fucking 2 for 1 sale at JC Penny, and let the real royalty take care of the winning part of the gig.

So while you talk to James and Jack, you tell them to put 911 on their speed-dial, because I will ensure, to the best of my ability, that you wind up in the hospital where you'll have drug-induced dreams of 50% store-wide sales at Tiffany's and all the soda you can drink.

As for Cable and Negative One...if you guys need to do what you need to do to get your payday, then by all means go right ahead...as long as it isn't at my expence.

Cable, you a little irritated that Princess didn't give you the rub? I'll help you throw the female equivalent of "Queen Eye's Fab Five" over the top rope.

And Neg...just shut Venom up. Please. You do that, and you're cool with me.

Of course, that's where our deal ends. Then, I dump the two of you over the top rope and concentrate on the others. I know The Show and Blade might have a little issue with Jem winding up in a hospital, but I gotta do what I gotta do, even if it's at the expense of their little tagalong hussy.

So gentlemen, I do wish you all a pleasant evening. And please, remember just who it is you're dealing with here. I'd hate to have to forcefully remind you the hard way.

Fade...

PENGUIN OF CHAOS!!!

  

***Duchess is sitting in the lounge of her hotel enjoying a bottle of Coke and playing maj jong on her lap top. A bit more casually dressed than earlier, in jeans and a white cowl neck sweater, she is waiting for her lunch to be served. Having taken the opportunity to view the promotional tapes made by some of her competitors, she is ready to make her next foray into battle.***

So, Ms. Troy doesn’t like me, boo hoo, so sad, I guess I’ll just roll up into a little bitty ball and cry myself to sleep.

As if. Really, your highness, if you think that your opinion of me, my hobbies, or my lifestyle matters to me at all, well then you have grossly over estimated your importance in my daily life.

What I said, and for that matter, what I meant, if that I have a certain amount of respect for women who have achieved success in this particularly male dominated industry, not that I give a rat’s rear end what you personally think of me.

I guess that you will get the chance to prove that you are, what was it you said ***pause to think, and take a drink from her bottle of Coke*** oh yes, I remember, that you are simply better than me. Whatever All I have to say to you is this, prove it bitch. Oh gees, now I’ve sunk to your level. What a bummer, I’ve always felt that a grown up should be able to make his or her point without resorting to vulgarity. Oh well, as my mama always said, lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas.

Cable, welcome home sweetie, sorry to dis you like that. It would be nice if you, Freakshow, Jack and I can bring the Players back to life. Who knows maybe there is a place in A1E for the PTP. I guess we’ll have to wait and see, after all, Freakshow and Jack have a major say in that. Of course, you may want to reconsider the proposition, after all, her highness, doesn’t think much of our little group. Hopefully, that doesn’t affect your goals, much like, I assure you, it doesn’t affect mine.

Negative 1, you seem to be a pretty sharp guy, not taken in by my nonchalant attitude. I’m impressed there are not many folks sharp enough to see past the façade. I remember the birth of the Collective back in the day of MBE, of course, Jimmy and I were at odds for awhile. I think he was a bit jealous of the friendship between Freakshow and myself. But they mended their relationship, which as Freakshow’s friend, made me happy. Anyway, you seem to have issues with Venom, not a place I want to be, but too each his own.

Roderick, good luck this week. Perhaps after you are eliminated from the Battle Royal this week, by me, Helga can help you think of a new and different “spin” on your “undefeated streak”. How is your lady love, I didn’t see her in the ring with you this last week, while I’m happy that you finally realize that the ring is no place for the untrained, I’m sure that she would love to give her man her support from ringside.

Venom, a bounty hunter from the Far East. Or if you prefer, a hired goon. If I understand correctly, you have been hired by Wuai Zahn to eliminate Eight. As so many before you have tried. I will admit for a guy that seems more of computer geek that a force in A1E, Eight has been rather indestructible. I also seem to remember back in the day, when he and I were at odds over my friendship with James, I defeated him in the ring, of course that was before he became a number or a drone or whatever.

I also understand that the code of your beliefs says that you finish the job you have been hired for. I personally have no beef with you, hopefully for the sake of your commission, you won’t give me one.

Which bring me to Santa Claus, again, don’t you have work to do this week, delivering gifts to all the good little girls and boys and lumps of coal to all the bad little children. I would think that commission would make you just a bit busy to participate in a Battle Royal. But you’re a grown up Christmas Icon, so you can make the decision which best suits your career goals. Just don’t miss stopping at my sister’s place, I really don’t want my niece to miss all that great Christmas loot.

Speaking of loot, Santa, you might want to bring an elf or two to watch your back and your bag, from what I understand Roderick McRatrick has a quite a few larcenous tendencies. Of course, this is just hearsay, I’ve never actually seen him do anything illegal. Hopefully Helga will keep him busy over the Christmas season.

I haven’t heard from James or Jack yet, hopefully they will take the time to think over my proposition. Either we work together or not, your call guys.

***A waitress comes to the table with Duchess’ Monte Christo sandwich and side salad.***

Great lunch is here. I need to finish this and then I have an appointment at the gym. I’ll suppose I’ll see y’all later.

***Duchess turns back to the table as the camera fades to black.***


jem

Fade-in: Early morning, up-town Manhattan. The camera spots Lindsay Troy, dressed casually in jeans, an oversized (read: two sizes too big) Good Advice sweatshirt (wonder whose that could be...), and a beanie cap that covers the top of her head and her ears. With a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, she exits a small, private gym facility and waves to the owners as she walks by the large front window.

She makes her way down the street towards the camera, and flashes her patented smirk.

Princess, maybe this lifestyle isn't for you. I think you'd be better suited with a couple pom-poms cheering on a high school football team. You have the Valley-girl talk down pat. Did you lead the PTP in a pre-match cheer before you stepped through the curtain?

"Like totally, for sure, today I got a manicure."

Please. I wonder if I get you riled up enough if you'll bear your acrylic-tipped claws and try to gouge my eyes out.

But, if you feel that shopping sprees and 100% fruit smoothies are more important than hard work and dedication, then by all means keep doing what you're doing. It's no wonder why you were stuck wallowing in a bingo hall in the trash section of Philadelphia the latter stage of your career instead of bettering your situation, packing your initial-embroidered designer luggage, and moving on up in the world.

Honestly, I expected better from the so-called "Upper Echelon" of the Fashion World.

So, did you want me to prove that I'm better than you, or that I'm a bitch? I didn't think I had to do more than I'm already doing to get the latter point across, but don't you worry...there's more of where that came from.

As far as me proving that I'm better than you...I don't need to prove anything. I simply am. I am the premier female talent this business has to offer, and I have been for quite a long time. The only one that I consider somewhat near my level is Kanna Kirishima, and while I may not like it that she's here on my turf now, she and I come from a somewhat similar background, and that I can respect. She rivals me in more than one discipline, and she's a challenge that I welcome.

You, on the other hand...I think the best challenge you can give me is decided just how I want to soften you up before I send you flying out of the ring. And for you to "sink to my level" would have to mean that you're above me, and Princess...you're not. Never have been, never will be.

Maybe your mother was right...if you lie down with enough dogs, you will wake up with something. I didn't think the Show was that type of person, but you know those party-types...

And Venom...you're damn right I'm a prima donna, but I didn't get that way from just thinking I was better than everyone...I worked my ass off to get where I am, to be the best. There's a difference between walking the path and knowing the path.

I'm sure those men you hired were paid well for the ass-kicking they received. I hope you threw in a complimentary ice pack for them and a box of Band-Aids.

I don't do what people that aren't in positions of power tell me to do, so I'm not going to shut the fuck up. I hope my language doesn't offend you, because Princess seems to not have thick enough skin to deal with it.

My diction is of no consequence in this match.

Furthermore, if you want to see what a real martial artist can do, I'll be glad to be the one that shows you up, because beating around a bunch of brainwashed imbeciles doesn't impress me in the slightest. Someone else did that once, and he's fallen by the wayside, down the slope of command in the Empire regime, and he's nothing more than a distant memory of a man who is now the shell of his former self.

After this battle royal, I'll send you back into the obscurity from whence you came.

A sharp ringing sound is heard coming from the outside pocket of Troy's duffel bag. She stops, pulls it out, and flips the top up.

Well...good morning sleepyhead. I didn't want to wake you up, you looked so peaceful.

Pause.

I'm a couple blocks away from the hotel. One of my college friends owns a gym and she invited me to try out the facility when I was in the area.

Pause, and a laugh.

Well the arena isn't opened yet, silly...and the equipment at the hotel didn't have a weight set.

Pause.

Of course I'll still train with you today. I wouldn't miss that for the world.

Smiles.

Yes, I'm on my way back to the hotel now. I'll be there in 15 minutes or so.

Pause, and Troy furrows her brow.

Oh? What was he calling for?

Pause.

What do you mean Nathan didn't tell you?

Pause.

So all he said was that he wanted to meet with the two of us at the arena and that's all?

Pause

Alright. I'll be back soon. Yep. Bye.

She hangs up the phone and pockets it once again.

Musing... Now what does Houston want...?

Fade...

PENGUIN OF CHAOS!!!

  

***Duchess is exiting the gym at the hotel, dressed in jeans, cream colored sweater and a denim duster, she has obviously changed in the gym’s locker room. Carrying her bag and a bottle of water, she stops outside of the gym to speak.***

Hey, your highness, nice to see you again. Obviously you have been working out or training, nice outfit, buy the way. I guess if you don’t mind looking like a refugee from a swap meet that is.

Moving on, I get that you don’t like me, . I mean really, do you actually expect me to quiver in my boots because one over-blown, wrestler doesn’t like me. Not on my watch, sister.

Surprisingly, you have something sort of right, you see, as you may or may not know, I did start my career as a valet. That’s a valet not a cheerleader. Personally I find the mental state of anyone that dresses up in a short skirt and waves pom-poms in the air to be just a bit suspect. Besides, I’m not terribly fond of bad poetry.

I will admit that the last days of MBE were not a place I really wanted to be. Frankly I hated South Philly, I mean the shopping totally sucked and it was real difficult to find a decent manicurist. Not to mention the food, did you know there are people in this world that consider chicken wings edible. Amazing. Anyway, back to the point, I was raised to live up to the agreements that I make, and I made an agreement with MBE. I don’t run out on my commitments, designer luggage or not, just because the going gets a bit tough.

I mean really, just because your employer is having a hard time is no reason to desert the ship, especially if you’re not counting on that particular ship for your material needs. Besides I was one of the original members of MBE, I couldn’t walk out, just because I thought the new management was in over their collective heads. It’s a matter of principle, something you probably don’t understand.

I get that you think that you are better than me, frankly, I consider you more than just a bit delusional, but I get it. What I find totally amazing is that you truly seem to be arrogant enough to believe you going to defeat me, just like that. I mean you know absolutely nothing about me, other than what you may have found on the Internet, and what’s more you seem to have totally discounted my accomplishments, although I’m sure if I were to ask, you would be more than ready to give me your list of accomplishments. Maybe next time, when I need a good bedtime story.

Whatever, it really doesn’t matter, like I said before, prove it.

Oh by the way, since you seem to have difficulty understanding simple sentence structure, I meant prove you are better than me, I already know you are a bitch, no additional proof is required. This week you have been given just the perfect opportunity to back up all your blustering. Until you and I meet in the ring, all you’re doing is spouting a whole lot of hot air.

If you don’t be careful you are going to back yourself into a corner that you can’t get out of. I mean look at it this way, you are the totally successful A1E veteran in this match, a former title holder and such, of course, everybody expects you to win. When you don’t, and you won’t, well that’s really going to take a dent out of the old self esteem. Think about it, your highness, what did you call us, a group of relative second-tier “athletes” and newbies, yeah that was it. Now what is it going to look like for you when you don’t win.

Much like the challenger in any match, you have to beat us, all of us. Hope you’re up for it.

As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I really have any number of more important things to do.

Ta Ta

***With a small wave, Duchess drops her water bottle in her bag and saunters around the corner toward the elevators.***


jem

Fade-in: Late morning, Manhattan. Inside an elegant room of the Plaza Hotel, Lindsay Troy stands in front of a large full-length mirror applying the last touches of eye make-up to her hazel orbs. In the background, the bathroom light is on, and the door opened...the occupant not seen by the camera.

Lindsay Troy smirks and, unflinching as she uses the eye pencil, speaks to the camera behind her.

Troy:I was wondering when you'd comment on the threads of cotton I was wearing this morning, Duchess. Perhaps this is unheard of from whatever stone you crawled out from under, but oftentimes one's boyfriend would offer their girlfriend a comfortable article of clothing to wear for one, or many, reasons or another.

And speaking of boyfriends, I wonder where James is. Did you forget to drag him out of a club last night where he was surrounded by one or more ladies that weren't you? I'm sure he was just devastated when the PTP Ballroom was shut down due to you people not being able to pay your lease because of the meager paychecks you were receiving with Jess Chapel's name on them.

I know you started your career off as a valet. I know more about you than you think I do, and I didn't need to go surfing on the World Wide Web to acquire the knowledge that I have. It's a little thing I like to call word of mouth and footage tapes.

As far as the cheerleading thing goes, well...I've never cheered for sports, I've always played them. I left that sort of stuff to my sister, and mostly everyone that's been here for awhile knows what sort of person she is.

But I digress. I do love Alaina, even if she is a bit suspect.

She smirks, and puts the eye pencil down on the dresser. She takes a moment to give herself a quick look-over in the mirror before turning on her heels to face the camera.

Troy: Perhaps there is something we agree on. South Philly is a disgusting place, and I, like you, have always lived up to whatever agreements I've made. And let me tell you, I've been put in some pretty crappy business and contractual situations in my lifetime. I'd tell you to ask Jared Justice about a little shit-hole organization called UEW, but unfortunately JJ needed to take some personal time off from A1E. Perhaps a raincheck would be in order upon his return. Things weren't so bad in the beginning, I suppose...however, a poison slipped into the minds of the higher-ups, and what was once not such a bad place to work at the beginning of my tenure turned out to be everyone's living nightmare. But don't think for one second that I don't know anything about matters of principle, because I can assure you that what you went through in MBE's later stages was cake compared to UEW. Just trust me on that.

I don't expect to beat you just by snapping my fingers. I'm sure I'll break into a tiny little sweat.

You couldn't hope to accomplish half the things I have, nor touch what I've done with a five-foot pole. But right now, I've got better things to do than deal with a jive-talking midget who equates the level of her talent to how high and teased her hair is.

Don't worry about me, Duchess. I've been backed into many a corner in my life, and I always seem to get myself out of them just fine with no lasting effects to my self-esteem nor my ego. I will say this, though...with each passing moment of silence from the persons who have yet to speak, the better my chances are of winning. And the more you keep talking, the more you keep assuring to me that you're just adrift in a boat with no oars and no sail...and not even the breaths that escape from your mouth are helping to guide the sail that moves your vessel any closer to shore.

Be wary of the portentious storm that is brewing, Duchess. And, wear rain gear. I'd hate to have to see you sporting the wet dog look.

In the background, the bathroom light clicks off. Beast emerges from the room, looking handsome in a charcoal cable neck sweater and blue jeans. He gives Troy, who's wearing a camel-colored lambswool cardigan and "7 for all Mankind" dojo jeans, a nice once-over before putting his coat and gloves on. He carefully lifts her shearling coat up and opens it for her.

Beast: Shall we go, my dear? We wouldn't want to keep the Boss waiting.

Troy walks over and is helped into the coat. She picks up her purse from a nearby chair and with one quick smile to Beast, they exit the room.

Fade...

PENGUIN OF CHAOS!!!

  

***Dressed in a long denim skirt, a pink cowl neck sweater, black boots, and a black suede duster, Duchess emerges from the lobby of her hotel. Her long blonde hair is braided and tied with a pink bow, and she carries a bottle of Coke and her purse. Turning to glance in the reflective surface of the hotels door, she checks her appearance, finding it to her liking, she takes a drink from her soda bottle and begins to speak.***


I will admit that back in the day, I too thought it was cute to wear my boyfriend’s clothing around town. What woman hasn’t. These days, however, I prefer to be seen in clothing that fits, just something you grow into I suppose, besides I reached the age where I prefer flowers or jewelry as a sign of affection rather than an over-sized, used tee-shirt. To each his own, as a great poet once said. Shakespeare I think, Literature wasn’t my scholastic area of choice.

You seem awfully curious about James, so to satisfy you, I will tell you that I have no idea where James is, he will either call me or he won’t. He has been rather successful in the land of dreams lately, assuming you can forget his unfortunate stints in re-hab, so maybe he’s partying with his friends in tinsel town. I can pass along his number and you can check up on him yourself, since you seem so concerned about both the man and his business ventures.

I did much the same type of research about most of the A1E stars before I made the decision to move here, after all I had just closed down a venture of which I was rather proud, I guess I wanted to make sure A1E had the same concern for the business. Word of mouth, and footage tapes are a great way to get information, however I did utilize the web for bits and pieces of inside information that might give me the upper hand. In wrestling, much like in business, knowledge is power.

I never meant to imply that I every thought of you as the cheerleader type, although you did imply that about me. I guess I remind you of the popular girls in school while you remind me of the jocks. I mean really, it’s so obvious that you wouldn’t have taken the cheerleader route through school, let me guess softball, and track, maybe basketball. Oh, and guess what, your highness, we have something else in common, my little sister was also a cheerleader, fortunately, that one small laps in judgment aside, she’s been rather successful in life and business. At the very least, I’ve never had to bail her out of trouble. Small world, I guess.

Worrying about you has never been real high on my to-so list, frankly you seem like the kind of woman who can take care of herself. You certainly don’t need to heed any of my advice. Unfortunately, I tend to call things as I see them, whether you listen or not is up to you.

As far as I see things, there are nine of us in this match and only one can emerge as the winner. I intend for that one to be me, your intentions are, of course, irrelevant to me. You can bluster and sputter about how you are better than me all you want, the only thing that matters is who emerges the victor. And for you to do that, you have to get past me. Whether or not you think that will be an easy task is for you to decide.

So while your deciding, I have a lunch engagement.

See y’all soon.

***Duchess steps off the curb and into the car she has ordered for the afternoon. (Right, like she wants to drive herself around New York, in the winter).***


jem

*END TRANSMISSIION*


(Venom is seen walking down the halls of the Collective Base. An electric door suddenly opens and out walks Wuai from a buisness meeting with the ever so lively Collective Executive Board)

(She notices Venom walking calmly down the hall as he twirls his rosary around his hand. She smiles devilously as she stops Venom to have a word with him)

WUAI: Why hello there! I'm suprised to see you walking these halls at this time. So tell me, how is your training coming along? Do you like the Dojo that I built for you? Are we closer in capturing Negative One?

(Venom says nothing as he looks over at Wuai in a cocky manner)

WUAI: I see... Well is there anything that YOU would like to tell me that you think that's important for me to know? I do have to give the Board some type of progress report, if not they'll begin to have doubt in the plan.

(Venom gives a serious look at Wuai as he clinches his rosary forcefully and grins at her)

VENOM: You can tell the board...

That this match I have at Tuesday Night Warfare - IS IN THE BAG!

I plan on not only eliminating Negative One as a threat to YOUR organization, but I also plan on doing something for myself as a reward...

I plan on showing A1E why they refer to your kind as the "WEAKER SEX"!

As Duchess will soon find out

(Venom smirks as he walks away from Wuai, who is down right pissed at Venom's comment... making her stomp her foot and walk back into the Board office)

WUAI: The NERVE of that guy!! Who does he think he is?

(Wuai exits the scene)

(Venom strolls down the hallway only to be met with up with Point Five and his monsterous son, ZERO. Point Five's eyes widen as he notices Venom is still alive, surprisingly)

(Venom smirks at the midget as he walks past him)

VENOM: I left a mess for you to clean up back at the Dojo, I hope you don't mind...

It seems I had a bit of too much fun the other night.

(Venom exits the scene as Point Five jumps up and down with his midget legs, as you watch the frustration grow upon his face)

(The camera turns to static)

*END TRANSMISSIION*

Ladies and Gentlefuns! Boys and Girls! Children of Allll Ages!

Heh. Gotta love the classics.

And before you start throwing BG James up in my face, just remember a bit what those words felt like the first hundred times you heard them. Ok, hundred-and-two times...but whatever.

That shit rocked the cock back in the day. Back when I was touring nationally with Tony Eagle...ripping up demos and those hard-to-find indoor skate parks that had just started growing up around the burgeoning skateboarding scene. Sure, I had long before understood that wrestling wasn't a straight up sport, but at least I didn't get all pissy about it like most people do when you mention the words "pro wrestling" in a sentence.

I can't TELL you how many times that I caught shit from my friends for getting caught in front of the tv in the hotel room on Monday Night, watching which of the Big Timers was going to win out.

This was WAY before MBE and A1E came to be, but a lot of the same stuff holds true now like it held up then.

Wrestling isn't a sport. Wrestling IS a sport. Long live wrestling.

What I'm trying to say here, kiddies is there's a lot of misconceptions being run around here, namely as to where my head is at for this upcoming "Christmas Battle Royal" and beyond into Bloody New Year. I'd love to take this time right now to re-assure all of those involved in the match that, barring a meteorite falling from the sky and striking me dead, that James Thompson, The Freakshow, is MORE than ready for a little action.

The thing is, barring former workmates and a slightly flirtratious relationship with at least two of the competitors, I don't see just why I should give a crap about what anyone else has to say.

I mean, look at all this strange Sci-Fi stuff that my friend Jimmy started. First, it was this cute little collection of Supernova jobbers, and now they're running around saving clones and some crazy shit. Don't get me wrong, it's pretty damned entertaining, the talent that Jimmy...er...sorry, Eight assembled, but where does it go from there?

Negative One...I know you, yet I don't. Out of the two guys involved with that Collective business, you strike me as the most level headed when you want to be. But, what's your motivation beyond saving some doe-eyed anime babes? What drives you to compete?

Why the hell are you in my ring?

At least Venom knows exactly who he is. But, unfortunately, he's deemed to go all "West Wing" on us...you know, walk fast, talk fast. Hell, the guy just screams "image makeover" to me, but of course again, that's just my opinion. I'll leave the makeovers to Waya...or Se7en...whatever.

Anyways, why are you here also? What makes you think that you're on the same level as the rest of the competition?

Duchess, Jack Blade and MrCATV. Former PrimeTime Players one and all. I KNOW I can get a good match out of these folks. Hell, we've been working together so long that anything BUT an excellent match from that side of the ring would be a severe disappointment.

I'm kind of disappointed with CATV, tho. You'd think that he'd have learned his lesson from AussieB that it pays to know who your friends are. You running around, beating on cardboard cutouts kind of smacks of despiration, and I really hate to see desperate people.

Again, I see you acting with no long-term game plan here, just talking shit and seeing how much you can get away with. Sorry, man, but it looks like your grower is putting some angel dust in your stash...cos you make about as much sense to me right now as seeing The Wall while huffing ether. Everything echos three times, and that skinny freak Geldof never made much sense anyways...I'm rambling....

Same thing with Linds, tho. I know she'll get pissed at me for calling her that, but hey girl, what's done is done. We hung out, kicked back some drinks, and flirted like nobody's business. Hell, that was some of the most fun I've EVER had talking long distance that night, and I thought you were pretty cool about the whole thing when I last saw you.

Sorry, I'm getting off track here, but what do you say to someone you used to hang out with when they ride you for being "MIA" for a couple of days? You of all people should know what it takes to make it in this business as well as keeping your other responsibilities in check. Pardon for the silliness, but you first insult one of the Classiest Ladies in Sports Entertainment and my former tag team partner, then you expect me to take it in stride?

No, no...I don't think so.

Funny thing is, I really like you too, Linds. But I'm going to choose the longer-running friendship EVERY time. Don't try to drive a wedge in-between the former PTPers. It's just not gonna work.

That said, I hope that no one in the 'ol "band" thinks that for one second that I'm not going to be that level of professionalism should we meet in that ring.

I came here to prove to myself that I'm one of the greatest there is. Nothing and nobody is gonna come between me and that goal. Sure, I'll play better with you guys because we know each other, but remember, I'm not here to make friends.

I'm here for that Big Gold Belt, and with that, showing the world just what it means to be a champion.

I've worked too long and too hard to get to where I am right now. Sure, I've fallen back a couple of steps, but I've always gotten right back up on my feet and kept fighting.

And due to reasons beyond my control, I'm not going to be able to be around that much longer.

You guys would LIKE to win your matches. I NEED to.

But, I've said too much.

Finally, Roderick McRatrick...Santa Claus...don't get me wrong, I like your stuff and all, but are you actually here for a reason? At least those Collective guys have something to live for. What are your reasons? Tying screaming damsels to railroad tracks? Delivering presents?

Dear god, what the hell is going on around here?

Hey buddy, glad you could finally make it. I knew if I played my cards right, I could get you to come out and play with us. Although the cardboard cutout gimmick is pretty damn cheesey, I figured calling you and the rest of the Ex-PTPers a bunch of lackeys would be more than enough to get your attention.

So what's new Freaky? Not even the least bit glad to see me? Well, I guess I don't blame you for it. I did somewhat abandon you guys at a point where my presence may have been quite useful. You see, MBE was just like the Titanic. No matter how big and grandeose it may have been, it was bound for disaster. It came to a point where I wasn't about to go down with the ship, and although I'm not proud of what I did, it was just something that had to be done.

So I packed up my bags and left. I took all the money I made from wrestling and t-shirt sales and all that good stuff and went travelling. Jamaica, Amsterdam, Madrid, Sydney, Tokyo, all around the world. If you haven't done it, you should give it a try. It's a good way to put your life into perspective and see some beatiful things (and women) this tiny planet has to offer.

One thing I did realize after a while was that not wrestling kinda sucked. So as soon as I got home, I got on the phone with my agent and told him to contact A1E for me. I knew A1E had a much better setup than MBE, and the owner wouldn't be aiming to make an example out of me every week. I had been thinking about coming here even when I was still in MBE, but I didn't want to give up on what I had worked so hard to achieve.

But enough about me. In my latter days in MBE, you were the one person I'd consider a true friend. We trained together, lived together, and occaisionally wrestled together. You were always there to talk to those nights that I couldn't sleep just before a tough match, and thats something I'll never forget.

I know Duchess was usually around too, but I always knew she only lived there because of you. Just like how she was only there because of PILE before you had arrived in MBE. What I'm getting at is that you're the only person in this match I really trust. So, what do you say Freakshow, you watch my back, I'll watch yours, lets win this for the gipper and all that jazz.

I know you feel obligated to work together with Duchess and Jack, and thats completely up to you. I won't think of you any less for trying to help your old friends, but let me warn you, if I get a chance to eliminate Jack Blade then thats precisely what I'm gonna do. Same goes for Duchess.

When it comes down to the very end, all that will be left is me and you. Thats when the fun really starts. The prodigy against the man who once helped you to get your foot in the door. The man who showed the rest of the MBE main eventers that this Freakshow has all the potential in the world. The decision is all yours now, just make sure you make the right one.

MrTuesdayNight

***Duchess is relaxing in the locker room assigned to her for this week’s edition of Tuesday Night Warriors. She is dressed in a pair of black slacks, and a violet sweater, her long blonde hair is loose. Taking a drink from an open bottle of Coke, she is sorting through some of her recent purchases. Several shopping bags are lying around, their contents spilling out onto a coffee table in front of the sofa where Duchess sits. Sweaters, purses, shoes and other assorted apparel items cover the small table.***

I love the last few days before Christmas, you can get some of the best deals on some really cool stuff. I mean really look around, I totally scored.

Anyway back to the match this week. I guess her highness is out of the running, I have to think that if I had the choice between an opportunity to wrestle for the Tag Team Championship and a hope that I might win this battle royal and get a better position for the Pier Six Brawl, well, I think I’d make the same decision she did and gracefully bow out.

So then there were eight, eight with a little “e”, not Eight with a capital “E”. Eight competitors vying for the same thing, victory.

Cable, I’m sorry that you feel that way about the PTP and MBE, but one of the beautiful things about living in this country is the right to speak your own mind, and make your own choices. I admire your goals and wish you all the luck in the world in achieving them. Although I agree with James, that cardboard cut-out thing was just a bit, shall we say, over the top. So for the sake of old times, good luck in the match, and every man or woman for his or her self.

Venom, I really love it when one of your kind, the male of the species, falls back on the old clichés, the weaker sex. As If. I guess now you’re going to have to eat those totally sexist and out dated words. Take heart my friend, you won’t the first and you probably won’t be the last to underestimate me due to that pesky little lack of a Y chromosome.

Roderick, ever time I see you I continue to be amazed by the weirdness. I guess that beating up a department store Santa made a bit of sense to you, but you are the only one. Did it never occur to you that perhaps the Santa in the store wasn’t the one in our match. I mean really, my friend, there is a Santa in almost every mall in America, are you planning on assaulting all of them. If so, you are going to be a busy, busy little boy. I hope that while you were trolling for Santa’s you a least stopped by one of the many, many jewelry stores in any given mall, and bought something sparkly for Helga. She’s like that, I know she would.

James, finally you and I are in an A1E ring together, sort of just like old times, only different. Like you I know that you, Jack, Cable and I will put on a great match, we’ll just have to watch out for the rest of the folks in this cluster. Anyway it’s great to see you again.

I’ll see you all in the ring, where I will emerge victorious. It’s not bragging if you can back it up.

See y’all soon.

***Duchess returns to sorting through her purchases, as the camera fades to black***


jem

*BEGIN TRANSMISSION*



(Still at the Collective Base, the camera spans over a large cafeteria, where we see many of the Collective's employees eating and stuffing their faces with food)

(Suddenly an announcement is made over the intercom as you hear Wuai's voice echoing throuhout the room. Everyone stops what they are doing and listens to the announcement)

WUAI: Attention everyone. There will be a free demonstration today held within the Collective's Dojo at 2000 hours. It will be performed on behalf of VENOM himself. It is required that EVERYONE will attend, if failure proceeds itself, you will be punished. Remember that the Collective is a whole unit and must not be broken, thus everyone's participation is a MUST! That is all.

(After Wuai's voice dies away, everyone then goes back to whatever they were doing)

(Camera fades out)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Camera fades in)

(Within the collective's dojo, Collective memebers are sitting down around a fairly good sized padded area. The Collective Board memebers including Wuai, are sitting on a much higer level away from other members - they are also joined by Point Five and the monstrous Zero)

(Wuai's voice begins the event)

WUAI: Now I present to you the master of Martial Arts, VENOM!

Venom will be demonstrating an art form of Gung Fu, by using 2 ancient samuri swords.

(Venom slowly walks out onto the center of the area holding a sword in each hand. He bows to the Collective Board memebers - you watch Point Five sneer at him - and he bows to the rest of the Colletive's members)

(Venom's movement upon the floor is incredible, as his movement is so fluid and smooth. The style he is using is an ancient chinese ritual that has been passed down for over 3,000 years)

(After the demonstration Venom bows his head before the Collective members who applaud him gracefully as do the Board Members)

WUAI: Thank you Venom! That was a wonderful performance! Now everyone please move slowly and exit the dojo! Reminder that tomorrow starts our new training session day! Do no be late as you will suffer full punishment! That is all!

(The members exit the dojo as Venom walks over to the camera after putting his swords away and grabbing a towel)

VENOM: Duchess, Duchess, Duchess... Are you really this stupid or are you just playing around?

I mean for some RANDOM bitch to actually claim victory over ME is completely irrational!

Clearly you have no FUCKING idea who you're up against!

To write me off as some Sexist American IDIOT, is completely and utterly FOOLISH!

I've destroyed ARMIES by myself.

I've assassinated dictators and other men of higher rank. People you can only read about in newspapers and watch on your local CNN channel!

And for you of all fucking people to write me off like some has been wrestler, completely annoys the piss out of me!

I'm going to enjoy slapping the shit out of you!

And you want to know something else?

All the makeup in the fucking world will not be able to cover up all the cuts and bruises I plan to unleash upon your body!

After I'm done with you Duchess, you'll need a plastic surgeon to fix your whole fucking face, because I plan on making it a bloody MESS!

And then there's Freakshow...

My... look who decided to stick his nose where it doesn't belong!

In MY BUISNESS!

You think I talk to much Freakshow?

You think I'm just a jabber jaw like that Lindsay bitch?

hmmmf..

You're just as clueless as the rest of them!

You want to know my purpose?

You want to know what makes me tick, Freakshow?

Just make sure you show up for the battle royale, and I'll show you what makes me tick as I give you a free meeting of the side of my foot with the side of your fucking skull!

It's going to be a pleasure to show you imbeciles what dominance really is!

And I hate to burst your bubbles but it's not the "Collective" or the whole "reasoning of a single thought"...

It's simply - ME!

And you can't stop it!

(Camera turns to static)



*END TRANSMISSION*

Freakshow is getting out of the shower, the naughty bits covered in steam...or is that a network censor "snow" stretching down and dangling between his legs. Well, we'll just leave that for the ladies to wonder and the men to gaze in astonishment at what possibly could be one of the greatest displays of viril...but we're getting off track here...start over.

James Thompson, The Freakshow steps out of the shower, grabs a towel quickly, and then pads over to what should be his locker. Otherwise he's just now putting on someone else's underpants, and that's just downright nasty....

The Show sits on a bench, a television tuned to the A1ENetwork and Venom's promo. The promo ends, and Freakshow turns to the camera.

FS: Damn. I'm speechless.

Freakshow tilts his head to the side, still trying to find the words.

FS: You...what...I mean...

Damn

What do you say to a guy like this? Look at him, pulling this ancient Chinese martial arts crap out of his back pocket, then cursing at the level of a Hyperactive Tenth Grader!

Oh, and about that whole martial arts thing. What the HELL are you doing in A1E if you're pulling Chinese martial arts crap out of your little bag of tricks? Jaysus H Christ, Jimmy must have pissed off some pretty important Chinese Monks to have them train someone who's roots are laid in a wholly Japanese mafia clan!

Or is that how the story goes? It gets so confusing for me sometimes. Maybe it was that Hidadriver all those years ago...or all of those Spoilerbombs I took. You know, now that you mention it, Maggot DID give me my first concussion and...

Oh, am I name-dropping? Sorry, man. Bad habit picked up from the talk show circuit. Yeah, when you were probably doing something as exciting as slitting clones throats, I was touring the country with my own Skate Park Tour. After that part of my day was over, it was into the hotel room for downlink with the production of last summer's...or was it the summer before that...oh yeah...it was BOTH SUMMER'S NUMBER ONE action movies!

You see, while you've been playing Ichi the Killer, I've been busting my ass making myself one of the hottest commodities in the entire freaking world.

That, my friend, takes deadication, a veritable buttload of assistants, physical trainers, etc etc etc, AND 150,000% of my drive and effort.

Seriously, though, the whole demo thing...killer. I'm sure Jackie Chan will be thrilled that you stole some of his Drunken Master stuff. Or was it more of a Bruce Li ripoff? Not Bruce Lee. A slow-motion replay of Bruce Li, the greatest man to ever have a name that sounds like Bruce Lee.

No, seriously, the guy was a scab. He had these really freaksy bushy eyebrows and always overdid it with the "WHOOOOA" and the "WHUAI-CHI-CHI-CHI!!!"s. To take it down a notch for the folks at home, think Kung Pow: Enter the Fist with worse acting and special effects.

THAT's what you look like, Venom ol pal. You're slow compared to those guys, and you're slow compared to me. I'm not saying that I'm on the same level as Jackie Chan in his youth, or even Bruce Lee when he wasn't being cut into Enter the Dragon...but I'm damned close.

I'm so fast, you won't even see me coming.

Hell, I'm so quick, you won't even see me going!

All you're going to see is the bottoms of my boots as the repeatedly stamp my name into your forehead.

Freakshow lifts up a leg, showing his name cut into the sole of his custom tennis shoes.

FS: Neat, eh? These...

Freakshow drops his leg and points to his feet.

FS: These...

Freakshow points to his legs.

FS: And This...

Freakshow points to his head.

FS: Are all I need to take you out. Try all the majickal mystical mumbo jumbo you want, assassin boy. When it comes to taking on the very best, you're about to get an audience with the James fricking Brown of the wrestling world!

FS jumps up off of the bench, then jumps over the bench backwards, then does a little "James Brown Shuffle".

FS: Aooooow! Jump Back! Gon' kiss m'self. HAAAAAAAAIGH!

The Show strikes a pose, then gestures at the camera to come in closer. The shot pulls in really tight, but Show shakes his head and motions with his hand to pull back. It does, slowly, until a second later when he motions it to stop. One trademark smirk later, and he continues.

FS: Now. On to other things. Lindsay Troy apparently has other things to worry about besides a possible shot at the World freaking Title, so she's out of the equation.

Freakshow starts counting down on his fingers.

FS: Venom is a douche. Negative One is still wandering around the backstage, trying to get someone to unhook the zipper on his mask from his shirt, Rodney McRatrick only shows up to twirl his moustache a few times and leave, and Santa Clause is nowhere to be seen! Poor guy. Coming from a man who works his ass off to make a bunch of people happy with no hope of them ever congratulating you...I understand where you're coming from, Nicky. However, I'd suggest you talk a bit, or everyone is gonna be thinking that Santa Claus is dead, or buried...or Homer Simpson.

Whatever.

Freakshow shoots another smirk at the camera.

FS: Cable. I know I've brought this up before, but I really think that when you respect someone as much as I do you, you have to be completely and totally honest with them.

Cable...you're being an Aussie.

Really. Ask around...nobody likes an Aussie. In fact, I know that while one of your best friends was an Aussie, that really shouldn't reflect on your attitude coming into this match.

So, I'll give you this "out". Stop being an Aussie, or I'm going to have to kick you in your Aussie for wasting my freaking time!

Jack, Duchess, the whole idea of working together has gotten a lot more appealing as I sit here thinking about this whole mess. I mean, we're all pretty likely to be in the Bloody New Year fracas, and we're probably going to be facing eachother at the end there as well, so let's just cut to the chase and bond a bit and give the A1E a little taste of what it meant to be PrimeTime.

Oh, but don't think I want a reunion anywhere past that Number One Contender's slot.

Besides, look at all the loose cannons running around here. Hell, Venom's even trying to get under my skin by calling one of the most fabulous women in sports entertainment a....bitch!

The Show fakes a shiver.

FS: Oooooooh!

Suddenly, Freakshow's face becomes deadly serious.

FS: You can do whatever you want to with your personal life, Venom, but when you describe that lady the way you did, that marks as being so disrespectful, I really have no qualms about tossing you out of that ring on your ugly little skull. Or, at the least, make you feel like you've just been hit by a Hum-vee with the licence plate "FRKSHWJUSTKICKEDURASS".

Show does a quick spit take.

FS: Reaaaaaaaaaly long bumper.

And we're back to serious.

FS: Either/or, you're going to remember the respect for your betters that you've obviously forgotten.

Freakshow's face lights up again.

FS: Well! That's about all the time we have! Tune in next week, as we talk about Dawters, Dawgs, and dropping Venom on his gevitzerfurnel.

Bye now!

Freakshow gets up, gives the camera a wink, grabs his duffel bag, and walks out the door.

and listen good 'cuz I'm only gonna say this once...

I don't need a fucking "out" from you, not now nor ever. I come here and openly express my respect for you and offer my hand in assistance, and you just sit there and give me this shpiel about being an Aussie? What in god's name are you talkin' about boy? If you respect me as much as you say do then you'd gladly accept my offer, and not just beat around the bush with your vague little allusions to a former PTPer. Or is that what all the cool little skater kids say these days? Kinda like rad back in the day, "Dude, that was so Aussie."

Seriously though, if you got a problem with my attitude, just tell me straight out. You're the last person I need trying to fuck with me. You think you can get through this match without my help? Lots of luck to you, James. I guess I've been gone for quite a while because I never remember you being such a Diva. What is your primary occupation anyway, a wrestler or a celebrity? I don't know when the money got to your head, but the Freakshow I know wouldn't try punking me out with such minor league material. You better get back to your computer and start doing some research, because this Battle Royal is about to be the shortest one of your career.

You're actually worried about the loose cannons in this match when the person you should be most worried about is standing right here. If Venom and Negat1ve One don't do themselves the favor of eliminating eachother, then I'll gladly take care of both of them for you so you don't have to dirty your busy little hands. You're probably out getting a manicure as I speak. Venom was wrong about one thing though... Duchess isn't the bitch, Freakshow is.

Enough about him though, I can't waste my breathe on such a minor portion of the Battle Royal. For a minute, I was highly considering joining you guys, Duchess, but your buddy had to open his mouth and ruin it for the rest of you. It's quite a shame too; It's gonna break my heart to have to toss you over the top rope and to the floor.

Coming into this match, Lindsay Troy was the one opponent that I was slightly worried about. She's been in more matches in A1E than the rest of us combined, plus I hear she's got a little "stroke" with the higher ups. It's too bad she had to pussy out(no pun intended), I could've really garnered some attention from the "superstars" of A1E by taking her out. Oh well, I suppose winning will be more than enough to make my presence in A1E known.

Furthermore, we got the silent but deadly Jack Blade. Was I even in the PTPers the same time as you at all? I don't remember the Prime Time Players being a fraternity, so it's not like we're "brothers" or anything. Thats good, at least I won't feel bad about having to eliminate you.

That wass a lovely display you put on there, Venom. Its too bad you'll have to check your weapon with MSG Security. You're gonna have a lot of explaining to do when you finally catch up with Wuai and the rest of the Collective after your poor showing in this match. If its any consellation, just tell them it was my fault. Maybe they'll go easy on you once they understand that you never had a chance to begin with.

MrCableAccessTV
"Aussie wishes he could be like me."

***Duchess is once again in the locker room she has been assigned for this weeks TNW, although she has put most of her purchases away. All that is left of the coffee table is three pairs of shoes, black pumps, gray suede boots, pink sandals, and a bottle of Coke. Picking up the bottle and taking a drink, Duchess begins to speak.***

Venom, sweetheart, I am not some random bitch, I am a very specific sort of bitch, if you’ll pardon the language.

Moving on, one of the truest facts of life is this, if something isn’t recorded and reported, it didn’t happen. Now you might very well have been the one to take out several of the world’s leaders and power brokers, but if no one saw you do it, who’s to say you were the assassin in question, could have been anyone.

What I’m trying to say, oh so delicately, is this, all your past glories, assuming that you even did all that stuff you are bragging about, is totally irrelevant to me and to this match. Like every other loud mouth braggart before you, you still have to climb into the ring just like everyone else and try to win.

James, as always you can count on me to watch your back, and you know, again as always, if it comes down to you and me, you’re in for a fight. Just like old times, although frankly I’m a bit worried about you, I think you’ve spent too much time in tinsel town. Way too many movie references in that last set of yours. On the other hand, thanks for sticking up for me with Venom, though, I owe you one.

Calling Cable an Aussie, now that’s just mean and totally beneath you. Where did you get that sort of nasty streak, my friend. I mean really, if I remember correctly, wasn’t Cable the one who invited you to join the PTP in the first place. Is that how you repay a kindness? Hmmm.

Cable, I was hoping you would have a second thought about joining us, and obviously you did. But apparently you and James aren’t going to be able to play nice together. To bad. I wish you good luck in the match, and hope you don’t have too many bad feeling when I toss you over the rope.

See ya, in the ring…

jem

*BEGIN TRANSMISSION*


(The camera zooms in on Venom, who is on a personal jet, curtousey of the Collective. He is sitting comfortably in a chair. He has small headphones on as he slowly glances over and looks over at the camera. He smiles as he takes off the headphones and begins to speak to the camera)

VENOM: The american culture always seems to make me smile. I mean take Mr. Freak Show for instance, he is a prime example of what I like to call American FILTH!

You indulge in your media crazed lifestyle, as if it's something incredible to brag about.

Let me rephrase that again, but in ENGLISH so your pathetic intellect can take it in better.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU, OR YOUR POP CULTURE LIFE!

Both elements make me sick to my stomach. To believe that you are actually a competitor in this sport just completely boggles my mind. You would be better off wrestling with your own kind Freak...

With PIGS AND SHEEP!

I mean you both have things in common. You both live a life filled with shit and isolation from the REAL world.

Hmmph..

I'm sorry but your plastic swords and your stunt doubles will not be able to save you once you've entered the ring with me.

There are no interruptions... There are no coffee breaks...

Just pure punishment contributed on behalf of yours truly!

Try to make "your mark" on me Mr. Show, and I'll be more than happy to do you a favor. I'll not only cancel you out from this match, SHOW, but I'll cancel out your career with one quick manuever that you'll NEVER see coming.

I call it the "FootToYourFace" move.

I'll give it to you free of charge.

And as for Cable and Duchess?

I'm sorry you feel that I'm some sort of joke.

That I'm in this match for you to laugh at, like dear ol' Santa.

I really hate to get your hopes up, but I am no hoax, I am no fluke, and I am no comedic douche that only enjoys making fun of himself like a broken record.

I am the REAL DEAL!

I am not like everyone else!

I do not just try... There is no trying involved... I only fulfill my obligation - to be victorious each and every fucking time!

Failure is not an option with me.

I can see the measurement of seriousness that each of you have taken with this match is about the size of my fucking pinky.

I can tell right away that each of you are not ready for A1E.

You are what my superiors would refer to as "loose ends" that need to severely be tightened together.

The lack of discpline is very much non-existent in all of you.

Therefore you will not come out this match victorious.

You need to be taught an educational lesson of what it means to be a champion.

Since none of you have a fucking clue, I shall show each of you why I'm A ranked material, and all you'll ever be is that middle C level rank that everyone calls GARBAGE!

Cable, the next time you think you have something important to say, why don't you do me a favor and stick a fucking sock down your throat and choke on it. That will be much better than to listen to anymore fucking none-sense to come out of that hole you call a mouth.

The only poor showing of talent in this match is what I call my competition, if you could even call it that.

My claims of victories matter not for the only human eyes that have witnessed my destructive greatness are the ones owned by the dead.

Yet I'll tell you what, this TNW I will show EVERYONE just why I am the assassin, as I not only take out my target, but I take out the rest of the trash of A1E!

And prove that in the end, it is all of you that never had a chance in winning this damn match.

There can only be one victor - and you're fucking looking at him!

(Venom puts his headphones back on)

(The camera turns to static)


*END TRANSMISSION*

***Duchess, is leaving the gym at the hotel, she has again made use of the gym’s locker room to change into a more attractive outfit. Her jeans, pink cowl necked sweater and black leather duster are just casual enough to fit in with the New York crowd. As she leaves the gym, she stops by the gift shop and buys a bottle of Coke. After accepting the clerks good luck for the Battle Royal, she exits the hotel. While waiting for the valet, to get her a cab (again, like Duchess would drive in winter in New York), she takes a drink of Coke and speaks.***

Venom, you ar so totally rude, I mean really, I know that you have been employed by the Queen Bitch of the Collective, and don’t hail from this country, but that doesn’t give you the right to dis the things that are the corner stone of American culture, I mean most of us follow extreme sports and Hollywood, like a holy grail. Not to mention your use of extreme vulgarity. Like I said “totally rude”

You are a hired gun, sort of like Chili in “Get Shorty” although he was more successful that you could ever hope to be, and he was a made up character. So what happens when you fail, which I am so hoping happens during this match.

You are oh so very proud of your history, your success, and your victories. I’ve got new for you, Snake boy, James, Cable and I also have a history of success, and victories. Maybe in your arrogance you don’t want to acknowledge things that happened before A1E, but they exist and you my friend, should recognize those accomplishments before you go telling us how great you are, and how inferior we are. Again, I should excuse your ignorance, you, after all don’t know any better, you are nothing more than hired muscle.

For your information I’ve been in the business back when you were rousting dead beat’s in little Tokyo. I started in the DocAwesome, and Dumi school of wrestling, then I moved on to the Squalid Beasts school of wrestling, after that I took my training from the Great BobbyR, before moving on to the Spoiler, Freakfish and PILE training academy. I’ve been ready for A1E for years, I was just loyal to the promotion that gave me my start. Loyalty is a concept you might want to explore.

How dare you have the nerve to tell me I’m not serious. This is what I do, granted, I have another source of income, much like you, but when I do something, I do it to the best of my ability.

As you said, there can be only one victor, and you are looking at her.

***The valet, a perfect gentlemen, holds the door of the cab, until Duchess finishes her tirade. Giving him a generous tip and a stunning smile, she enters the cab and we watch as she leaves the hotel’s grounds.***


jem

(OOC: Sorry, this week hasn't gone according to plan whatsoever. I promise a better showing at the Pier 6.)

Foregoing the usual Neg1 "pomp and circumstance," we find the protagonist in a back alley hiding behind a dumpster. A pair of men in Collective uniforms rush by, carrying flashlights and tasers. Once they go by, Neg1 pops out, speaking with his usual distorted voice.

Too many distractions!

I should have known they'd be here, right on my tail!

The Collective is getting too close. I was lazy, distracted by Venom for a brief moment. I should have known his employers, whatever their faith in their charge, would have come after me as well. For the Zahns, no oppertunity is too good to pass up to crush those who oppose them. It's been like this for a week now, them chasing me and keeping me from focusing on my match.

For all I know, that may as well be the plan between them and Venom. It would make too much sense, something the Collective rarely deals in. But Venom seems hell bent on revealing who I am when my identity is meaningless to him.

He needs not know who I am.

This mask is not intended to hide my true self from the Collective.

There. Happy now? You've forced my hand and made me give away one of my secrets. You should be overjoyed, Venom, if you knew what joy meant. And if I have anything to say of it, your joy will end right there. You might say it's contradictory for me to be facing the Collective is I have nothing to hide from them, but that's a secret I'm not going to tell yet. I've only played one card in this hand, NO MORE! I don't expect it to halt the dogs that chase me, so long as they follow Wuai's Pavolvian bell. But it might be enough to convince an intelligent man like Venom that my true secret, my identity, should for now be respected.

Not that I expect him to do so, but in this senseless world, I suppose anything can happen.

Until then, you can continue with your very un-Catholic behaviors and language. You certainly do not do those rosaries proud, Venom. But who am I to judge? I, too, had fallen once… to depths I dared not imagine I would ever descend to. I sought redemption. Found it? That still has yet to be determined. I dare not say whether or not I have myself for fear of spreading gross mistruth.

That was certainly proven when Lindsay Troy made an exit from this match after engaging in a fierce battle of words with Duchess. I can't help but wonder if that was intentional on Lindsay's part, because if not, it's an excellent accidental gambit. All that energy Duchess had devoted to Lindsay, now wasted. Now she has forced herself to redirect back to others. Does she have enough left in her to win now? It might not surprise me to find she does, but I’m not going to pass a judgment either way on her right now. Counting her out at any time is a fatal mistake.

However, counting her as a potential ally… might be beneficial. The two of us seem to have a common distaste for Venom that would possibly translate into working together to prevent his victory. Except for the addition to the equation of her former partners in the Prime Time Players, who I ought to address while I have the time here.

Freakshow… you wish to know my motivation, hmmm? Perhaps someday soon, I’d be willing to make you privy to it. We’re not that dissimilar, you and I. Perhaps you of all people would understand what I have been through, what I have seen, and what I intend to do. Until then, I have to forget any and all of that and simply treat you as another mere opponent. You may think it low of me to describe you as such, but in the grand scheme of things as this battle royal stands… that’s all you are.

It’s more credit than Mr. Cable Access seems willing to give me. I know enough about the intangible factors in this business to know that the mathematic equation you assumed I was thinking is an inaccuracy. A beat B, yes. B beat C, yes. Can A beat C? That has yet to be proven in any form. C may well beat A, creating a sort of warped version of rock, paper, scissors. Or maybe that oversimplifies the matter entirely.

Jack Blade… words cannot describe my disappointment in your own verbiage. You simply seem to be treading so much water as you try not to drown in what surrounds you. But then words were never your calling card, were they? No, I know enough of you to know that you’d rather get in the ring and let your actions speak for you. They have spoken quite clearly from what I’ve seen, and you only need to keep them focused for your own successes to be great.

To the collected former Prime Time Players, I wish you well. Just not now. Not while there is work afoot.

And who does this leave but Roderick and Santa. One hasn’t said a word, perhaps he’s too tired trying to figure out whether he should be making toys for 2004 or if he doesn’t even exist in the first place. As for Roderick, it seems you’re even more distracted than I am. Only instead of trying to survive an onslaught from a maniacal clone cult, you’re wasting your time on frivolity like visiting a mall Santa and still trying to explain how you’ve never lost.

You disgust me.

You have so much potential, and you waste it on your brand of madness.

If the chance allows it after I have dealt with Venom, unless he deals me out first, I would enjoy the opportunity to-

SHIT!!

A flashlight shines into the ally again, and Neg1 is spotted! He makes a mad dash off-camera…

*CLICK!*