Post by Press1269 on Feb 20, 2020 15:44:16 GMT
The scene opens up on the GZW Takeover making their way through the hallways to their locker room. Joshua Samson leads the troop, with Raze close by his side off in his own contemplation, while Amanda Reynolds takes up the middle, listening in on the conversation that Shane Lawrence and John Champa are having about their plans later tonight. When the troop reach their destination, Samson comes to a dead stop, almost causing the rest of them to bowl into him, but they catch themselves before that can happen. Dead ahead of them was their locker room, but it was obvious that something had been altered between their time out at ringside during the Opening Bout. The door frame had been replaced with a metal reinforcement, and even the door itself looked heavy duty. There was a bolt action front clasp on the door where someone could push it shut, and apply a pad lock, which would essentially lock it from the outside. Stranger yet, the door was slightly ajar.
Champa and Lawrence make to push past, but Raze throws his hand up to halt the movement, deciding that it was better that he earn his keep as GZW's Insurance Policy. He slowly slips by Samson to take the front, and slides up to the door with his back against the wall for cover. He edges closer to the altered door frame, allowing his head to tilt forward so as to try and see through the crack that the slightly open door makes. He sees some shadows dance across the floor from within, signaling that someone was still lurking, and he casts a warning eye towards Reynolds, Champa, and Lawrence to be ready. In one swift movement Raze peels off the wall, throws his boot forward into the door, and causes it to fly inward.
There, in front of them, lay Red Dragon. The man is barely conscious, and when he looks up to see who it is that has come for him now, they all can see blood pooling from a wound on top of his skull. He tries to croak a response, but his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he slumps lifelessly to the concrete. If it wasn't for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, they would have all thought him dead.
Suddenly a thunderous crack sounds out behind them, and all that are able pivot to see what it was. Amanda Reynolds stumbles forwards, her face a mask of pain and surprise. She falls to her knee's in front of them, revealing Flaming Youth, wielding a steel chair, directly behind her. He flashes the group a boyish grin followed by a wink.
FLAMING YOUTH: Hi, guys!
Muscles tense, bodies crouch backwards for spring, but before anyone can do anything two massive hands appear out of the locker room doorway. The hands snatch Raze and Joshua Samson by the collar of their shirts, twisting the fabric so that it chokes the two men, and then rips back into the confines of the locker room, dragging the two men inside. There's a thud from within, causing Lawrence to look back, and his eyes go wide as Press looms out of the locker room, pulling the door shut, and pushing closed the bolt. He even has time to place the padlock before either Lawrence or Champa have a chance to comprehend what all just happened.
Confusion quickly turns to anger, and Lawrence launches at Press, while Champa does the same to Youth. Youth brings the chair up in front of him as a shield, and Champa latches onto it, momentum knocking both men to the floor. They roll around struggling, both trying to take possession of the chair. Meanwhile, Press reaches down into his jeans pocket for something about the time that Lawrence bowls into him with a spear that knocks him hard into the concrete wall. He is forced to take a few hard fists to his rib cage before finally fishing the item out of his pocket and slipping it on his hand. With a hard shove he sends Lawrence back away from him, and as 'Ryder' makes to come in for more, he gets clocked right across the jaw with a pair of brass knuckles.
Lawrence falls back, but before he can hit the ground, Press catches him by the front of the shirt, spinning him around and slamming him up against the wall one handed. He rares back and sends in another shot, right across the top of the forehead, busting the man open, and sending a cascade of blood down into his face. It's pretty obvious that 'Ryder' is done, but Press continues his assault, placing another two shots into his stomach before finally releasing him. Ryder slides down the wall into a seated position, and looks out at the world through gloss covered eyes.
Press slips the knucks off, and drops them at Lawrence's feet before turning, and stalking towards where Champa and Youth are struggling over the chair. Before he can get there, Amanda Reynolds rises up off her knees, but she doesn't even get the chance to find her bearings before the big man grabs her by the forehead, and sends the back of her skull rushing to meet the hallway wall. There's a sickening splat when she hits, and her eyes flutter, before she goes tumbling to the ground. Press pauses to grimly glance at the blood stain where her skull met the wall.
By this time, the larger Champa manages to get the chair away from Youth, and sits straddling the young man with the chair above his head. Before he can bring it down, however, Press snatches the chair right from his grasp. Champa looks over his shoulder to find his new attacker, and doesn't even get the chance to change the surprise on his expression before the steel chair crashes off the side of his head. The blow throws him off of Youth, who quickly regains his feet, and Press tosses it back to him. Youth begins to drive the top of the seat into Champa's ribs repeatedly. Press turns back to survey the chaos, and can hear the thuds from the other side of the reinforced locker room, Samson talking shit even from behind the door. He looks over his shoulder, where Youth continues to torture Champa with the chair.
PRESS: Let's wrap this up. It's time to send a message.
Youth looks over at Press and nods, cracking Champa across the back one more time for good measure as the scene cuts back to ringside.
(PART 2)
When the scene opens up, the camera is focused on the face of John Champa. 'The Big Shot' has seen better days. He has multiple lacerations and contusions all over his face, his left eye has been almost completely shut due to swelling, and his bottom lip has been busted open as well. As the camera scrolls back to encompass the entire scene, it is seen that his arms have been stretched out to either side of him by chords of rope that are tied around his wrists. He's being suspended by two polls sticking up out of the gravel surface, so much so that his feet barely touch the ground. His shirt has been partially ripped from his body, and he hangs in this awkward position limply, barely able to lift his head. A crunching sound signals that someone is approaching, and after a few seconds, The BombTrax appear on camera. Press steps right up to Champa with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and pours it over the mans head, drenching him. This brings some new life into 'Greatness in the Flesh' as he writhes, spits, and sputters, letting out a moan before settling back down. Press never takes his eyes off of him, but Youth slips in front of the camera to take center stage.
YOUTH: I know, I know. This shit probably seems a little intense right now, but lest we forget, this guy right here put hands on Munin, and that just doesn't stand. Now before you GZW bastards get all up in arms, and decide you want to go after The Lady one more time, make no mistake. This...
He waves his hand back at Champa.
YOUTH: This was all our doing. We orchestrated it. We put it into motion. We laid this fight down at your doorstep. You've been running those cum dumpsters you call mouths for the better part of three months now, ever since fucking March, and up til now, we haven't really had much of a response. We decided to let Saint, Tap, and Alexander have their shot at you. Seemed only fair really, considering they are the ones that you guys have been dumping on week in and week out.
Youth sighs, and holds up a wagging finger.
YOUTH: But then you just had to go there at Heat Stroke. You couldn't settle on cracking those three eggs. No, you had to go for broke. You just had to put your hands on Munin. Newsflash, boys, if you haven't figured out tonight that that was a fucking mistake, then I'm not sure we can beat it into you anymore clearly, but god damn if we won't try.
Youth winks, but retains his grim face as he grabs hold of the camera lens, and directs it to show exactly where they are. As the camera pans, it becomes evident that they are not in a gravel parking lot, but on the roof of the Houma Terrabonne Civic Center. A muted explosion from the crowd inside and below them can be heard even out on the roof, and Youth grins as Press, in the background, cuts Champa down from his restraints. It's obvious that 'The Big Shot' wants nothing more than to hit the ground, but Press doesn't allow it, half dragging/helping the man towards the edge of the roof where Youth now leads the camera. Press grabs a handful of what little shirt is left on Champa's body, and whirls him around to where now, the only thing keeping him from teetering over the edge to the street below is that thin piece of fabric.
YOUTH: You see, what happened earlier tonight, that wasn't the message. That was just to get your attention. The beating we just laid on John Champa, that wasn't the message. That was just retribution for a misdeed. This, what's about to happen, now that's the fucking message!
Youth snarls, getting right back into the face of the camera.
YOUTH: GZW is fucking dead, and we are about to prove it.
Just then a loud boom can be heard from behind the camera, and it swings around to see Lady Munin standing in the roof access doorway, flanked by a terrified Ji, and a scornful 4Loco. Munin holds up her hand for the other two to stay where they are, and she slowly makes her way further out onto the roof. She comes to a stop just in front of the camera, the wind whipping her dress and hair around in a mesmerizing way. Youth backed up, and she searched the man's eyes for any sign if they would go through with this mad plan. She saw that he didn't know, so turned her gaze to Press. In the big man's eyes she saw the universe turn in on itself til it was a pin prick, and then explode like the stories of the galaxies creation. She saw tribal men stalking their prey, she saw children playing with toys made from wood and bone, and saw man and woman making love. Then she see's man standing over man, bloodied stone in his hand, perhaps the first murder, and that's when she knows. Press had every intention of going through with this.
She stepped forward, now standing closer to Youth, and the camera panned around so that all four people were now in this precarious shot.
LADY MUNIN: Press, don't do this. Not even he deserves it.
If it were possible, Press' face went even darker as he regarded his boss, and he snorted. He shook his head, and pulled John Champa from the edge of the roof, and turned him loose so that he could fall to his knees at their feet. Press looked back up at Munin, and something flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed Champa by the sides of his head with his massive grip, jerked the man forward, tucking his head between his legs. He reached forward around his waist, and turned to look the Lady in the face.
PRESS: You're right. He deserves this.
Hoisting him up onto his chest in a seated position, he takes a step towards the edge of the roof before tossing him out for a Press Release Powerbomb right over the side. There's only a few seconds of silence before a tremendous crash echoes up to the roof, where Press and Youth both stare over the edge. Munin steps up beside them, looking over to see the damage for herself. Finally, the camera moves in, peering over the side to view John Champa laid out, bloody and broken, poetically inside the destroyed confines of an ambulance. Stunned medical officials and EMT's run around the scene, a few climbing up into the ambulance to attend to the wounded directly. A chuckle brings the view back up to Press, and Youth and Munin both look up at him as well. The big man shrugs, and turns to walk towards the roof exit.
PRESS: At least I got him to the right place.
Youth snickers, and takes off after his partner, before the camera swings back over to Munin, who watches the two men go. She shakes her head, her expression unreadable, as she turns to look back over the side onto John Champa.
LADY MUNIN: God damn it.
With that, she turns and makes her way back towards Ji and 4Loco, who look as shocked as everyone else in the arena at this moment. The scene cuts back to ringside.
Champa and Lawrence make to push past, but Raze throws his hand up to halt the movement, deciding that it was better that he earn his keep as GZW's Insurance Policy. He slowly slips by Samson to take the front, and slides up to the door with his back against the wall for cover. He edges closer to the altered door frame, allowing his head to tilt forward so as to try and see through the crack that the slightly open door makes. He sees some shadows dance across the floor from within, signaling that someone was still lurking, and he casts a warning eye towards Reynolds, Champa, and Lawrence to be ready. In one swift movement Raze peels off the wall, throws his boot forward into the door, and causes it to fly inward.
There, in front of them, lay Red Dragon. The man is barely conscious, and when he looks up to see who it is that has come for him now, they all can see blood pooling from a wound on top of his skull. He tries to croak a response, but his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he slumps lifelessly to the concrete. If it wasn't for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, they would have all thought him dead.
Suddenly a thunderous crack sounds out behind them, and all that are able pivot to see what it was. Amanda Reynolds stumbles forwards, her face a mask of pain and surprise. She falls to her knee's in front of them, revealing Flaming Youth, wielding a steel chair, directly behind her. He flashes the group a boyish grin followed by a wink.
FLAMING YOUTH: Hi, guys!
Muscles tense, bodies crouch backwards for spring, but before anyone can do anything two massive hands appear out of the locker room doorway. The hands snatch Raze and Joshua Samson by the collar of their shirts, twisting the fabric so that it chokes the two men, and then rips back into the confines of the locker room, dragging the two men inside. There's a thud from within, causing Lawrence to look back, and his eyes go wide as Press looms out of the locker room, pulling the door shut, and pushing closed the bolt. He even has time to place the padlock before either Lawrence or Champa have a chance to comprehend what all just happened.
Confusion quickly turns to anger, and Lawrence launches at Press, while Champa does the same to Youth. Youth brings the chair up in front of him as a shield, and Champa latches onto it, momentum knocking both men to the floor. They roll around struggling, both trying to take possession of the chair. Meanwhile, Press reaches down into his jeans pocket for something about the time that Lawrence bowls into him with a spear that knocks him hard into the concrete wall. He is forced to take a few hard fists to his rib cage before finally fishing the item out of his pocket and slipping it on his hand. With a hard shove he sends Lawrence back away from him, and as 'Ryder' makes to come in for more, he gets clocked right across the jaw with a pair of brass knuckles.
Lawrence falls back, but before he can hit the ground, Press catches him by the front of the shirt, spinning him around and slamming him up against the wall one handed. He rares back and sends in another shot, right across the top of the forehead, busting the man open, and sending a cascade of blood down into his face. It's pretty obvious that 'Ryder' is done, but Press continues his assault, placing another two shots into his stomach before finally releasing him. Ryder slides down the wall into a seated position, and looks out at the world through gloss covered eyes.
Press slips the knucks off, and drops them at Lawrence's feet before turning, and stalking towards where Champa and Youth are struggling over the chair. Before he can get there, Amanda Reynolds rises up off her knees, but she doesn't even get the chance to find her bearings before the big man grabs her by the forehead, and sends the back of her skull rushing to meet the hallway wall. There's a sickening splat when she hits, and her eyes flutter, before she goes tumbling to the ground. Press pauses to grimly glance at the blood stain where her skull met the wall.
By this time, the larger Champa manages to get the chair away from Youth, and sits straddling the young man with the chair above his head. Before he can bring it down, however, Press snatches the chair right from his grasp. Champa looks over his shoulder to find his new attacker, and doesn't even get the chance to change the surprise on his expression before the steel chair crashes off the side of his head. The blow throws him off of Youth, who quickly regains his feet, and Press tosses it back to him. Youth begins to drive the top of the seat into Champa's ribs repeatedly. Press turns back to survey the chaos, and can hear the thuds from the other side of the reinforced locker room, Samson talking shit even from behind the door. He looks over his shoulder, where Youth continues to torture Champa with the chair.
PRESS: Let's wrap this up. It's time to send a message.
Youth looks over at Press and nods, cracking Champa across the back one more time for good measure as the scene cuts back to ringside.
(PART 2)
When the scene opens up, the camera is focused on the face of John Champa. 'The Big Shot' has seen better days. He has multiple lacerations and contusions all over his face, his left eye has been almost completely shut due to swelling, and his bottom lip has been busted open as well. As the camera scrolls back to encompass the entire scene, it is seen that his arms have been stretched out to either side of him by chords of rope that are tied around his wrists. He's being suspended by two polls sticking up out of the gravel surface, so much so that his feet barely touch the ground. His shirt has been partially ripped from his body, and he hangs in this awkward position limply, barely able to lift his head. A crunching sound signals that someone is approaching, and after a few seconds, The BombTrax appear on camera. Press steps right up to Champa with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and pours it over the mans head, drenching him. This brings some new life into 'Greatness in the Flesh' as he writhes, spits, and sputters, letting out a moan before settling back down. Press never takes his eyes off of him, but Youth slips in front of the camera to take center stage.
YOUTH: I know, I know. This shit probably seems a little intense right now, but lest we forget, this guy right here put hands on Munin, and that just doesn't stand. Now before you GZW bastards get all up in arms, and decide you want to go after The Lady one more time, make no mistake. This...
He waves his hand back at Champa.
YOUTH: This was all our doing. We orchestrated it. We put it into motion. We laid this fight down at your doorstep. You've been running those cum dumpsters you call mouths for the better part of three months now, ever since fucking March, and up til now, we haven't really had much of a response. We decided to let Saint, Tap, and Alexander have their shot at you. Seemed only fair really, considering they are the ones that you guys have been dumping on week in and week out.
Youth sighs, and holds up a wagging finger.
YOUTH: But then you just had to go there at Heat Stroke. You couldn't settle on cracking those three eggs. No, you had to go for broke. You just had to put your hands on Munin. Newsflash, boys, if you haven't figured out tonight that that was a fucking mistake, then I'm not sure we can beat it into you anymore clearly, but god damn if we won't try.
Youth winks, but retains his grim face as he grabs hold of the camera lens, and directs it to show exactly where they are. As the camera pans, it becomes evident that they are not in a gravel parking lot, but on the roof of the Houma Terrabonne Civic Center. A muted explosion from the crowd inside and below them can be heard even out on the roof, and Youth grins as Press, in the background, cuts Champa down from his restraints. It's obvious that 'The Big Shot' wants nothing more than to hit the ground, but Press doesn't allow it, half dragging/helping the man towards the edge of the roof where Youth now leads the camera. Press grabs a handful of what little shirt is left on Champa's body, and whirls him around to where now, the only thing keeping him from teetering over the edge to the street below is that thin piece of fabric.
YOUTH: You see, what happened earlier tonight, that wasn't the message. That was just to get your attention. The beating we just laid on John Champa, that wasn't the message. That was just retribution for a misdeed. This, what's about to happen, now that's the fucking message!
Youth snarls, getting right back into the face of the camera.
YOUTH: GZW is fucking dead, and we are about to prove it.
Just then a loud boom can be heard from behind the camera, and it swings around to see Lady Munin standing in the roof access doorway, flanked by a terrified Ji, and a scornful 4Loco. Munin holds up her hand for the other two to stay where they are, and she slowly makes her way further out onto the roof. She comes to a stop just in front of the camera, the wind whipping her dress and hair around in a mesmerizing way. Youth backed up, and she searched the man's eyes for any sign if they would go through with this mad plan. She saw that he didn't know, so turned her gaze to Press. In the big man's eyes she saw the universe turn in on itself til it was a pin prick, and then explode like the stories of the galaxies creation. She saw tribal men stalking their prey, she saw children playing with toys made from wood and bone, and saw man and woman making love. Then she see's man standing over man, bloodied stone in his hand, perhaps the first murder, and that's when she knows. Press had every intention of going through with this.
She stepped forward, now standing closer to Youth, and the camera panned around so that all four people were now in this precarious shot.
LADY MUNIN: Press, don't do this. Not even he deserves it.
If it were possible, Press' face went even darker as he regarded his boss, and he snorted. He shook his head, and pulled John Champa from the edge of the roof, and turned him loose so that he could fall to his knees at their feet. Press looked back up at Munin, and something flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed Champa by the sides of his head with his massive grip, jerked the man forward, tucking his head between his legs. He reached forward around his waist, and turned to look the Lady in the face.
PRESS: You're right. He deserves this.
Hoisting him up onto his chest in a seated position, he takes a step towards the edge of the roof before tossing him out for a Press Release Powerbomb right over the side. There's only a few seconds of silence before a tremendous crash echoes up to the roof, where Press and Youth both stare over the edge. Munin steps up beside them, looking over to see the damage for herself. Finally, the camera moves in, peering over the side to view John Champa laid out, bloody and broken, poetically inside the destroyed confines of an ambulance. Stunned medical officials and EMT's run around the scene, a few climbing up into the ambulance to attend to the wounded directly. A chuckle brings the view back up to Press, and Youth and Munin both look up at him as well. The big man shrugs, and turns to walk towards the roof exit.
PRESS: At least I got him to the right place.
Youth snickers, and takes off after his partner, before the camera swings back over to Munin, who watches the two men go. She shakes her head, her expression unreadable, as she turns to look back over the side onto John Champa.
LADY MUNIN: God damn it.
With that, she turns and makes her way back towards Ji and 4Loco, who look as shocked as everyone else in the arena at this moment. The scene cuts back to ringside.