WAR OF THE WORDS #13

Against our better judgment, let's go walking out that door: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53qeiAVjHQU

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

NATASHA WATKINS

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“Your opponent is as strong as you allow them to be.”

                                    -Natasha Watkins

[To know Natasha Watkins, is to hear stories of a tireless worker, to be friends with Natasha Watkins are to have first hand knowledge of a desire to be unstoppable, to understand Natasha Watkins is impossible. Natasha Watkins was born on July 20, 1985 in the town of Forest Grove, Oregon . Natasha became a fan of Puroresu at the age of 11 when she was exposed to giants at the time Alpha Pro and Japan-South Korea Wrestling Council. Her desire came with the at time Joshi powers CHOSEN and Japanese Joshi Federation, Natasha became consumed with Puroresu and Joshi, spending hours researching the past and wondering what it would be like to compete in Japan.]

[After graduation she spent the next six months working as an Insurance Agent in Forest Grove. She then decided to answer the call to new Puroresu and Joshi giant the New Japan Wrestling Federation that began operations in early 2000. Natasha had been training heavily in her local gym and would even receive private lessons from Patricia Mensch who had wrestled in Japan from 1988-2001. Mensch saw Watkins as a natural talent that had the opportunity to be amazing.]

[Watkins went on to make the Dojo class and would quickly become rivals with Lung Xazyou who also made the Dojo class. Mensch’s training proved to do Watkins a lot of good as she went on to graduate from the Dojo quicker than anyone before her, graduating in just four months. Since then Natasha has won the Seoul Women’s Championship, BHC Iron Glory Tag Team Champion, BHC Japanese Championship, and have two reigns with the BHC Iron Glory Championship. In her six year career she has only suffered seven falls and has earned the nickname “Best Wrestler In The World” by a huge internet following. This is Natasha Watkins…]

The slightly ominous sounds of rain pattering upon a window sill

[We open to a dark hotel room; the long flowing blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and famous stoic facial expression describe Natasha Watkins as she stares outside watching as the night brings a mild rain shower to New York City . She had just been on the phone with her protégé Michi Nakasone who is still in Japan awaiting the next tour to begin. Natasha has three more days in New York before she boards her flight to Ontario for her SOW Heavenly Championship match against Sierra Browne. Natasha looks over to the camera, her facial expression remains unchanging. Her facial features are soft, and she is quite attractive. By looking at her, aside from the occasional dark blue eye shadow you would think Watkins does not care about her physical appearance. At least in the feminine sense, her body is quite muscular making her 5’7’’ 140 pound frame that compliments her natural athleticism that was trained throughout years of playing basketball.]

[Natasha adjusts her body pulling her knees close to her chest, her arms hug around her knees as her attention switches back to the window. She almost looks as a small child who is hiding from the world. Her eyes read of a simple peace, yet the always present focus can be sensed from her body language.]

Natasha(whisper): Bitch…

[Natasha continues looking out the window as she speaks.]

Natasha: Bitch…

[She assures the audience they heard her correctly as she again repeats herself.]

Natasha: Bitch….

[She pauses momentarily; her voice neither wavers nor stutters.]

Natasha: Every other word is the same with you Sierra; your simple nature is almost amusing. I’ve seen many just like you, that’s why I requested to have this match against you for the SOW Heavenly Championship. You’re no different than any of the others.

[Natasha turns back towards the camera, her eyes starring directly into the lens.]

Natasha: It’s funny how everyone in the Midwest finds you to be unbeatable, to be the best female wrestler in the past twenty years, how nobody has even come close to challenging you. Erica Toughill fell, as did Molly Molotov, as did Fiona Casey, and Juri as well. They were suffocated by the powerful offense of Sierra Browne, but intimidated by her reputation…

In case you have been too busy counting your accolades Sierra, my reputation is known in any place that respects wrestling. I haven’t seen anything from you that me to believe you are a legend in the making. While you are a wonderful athlete, you do not have the mentality to become a great competitor….

[Natasha stretches her legs out as she again takes a brief glance out the window. She leans backwards, her head resting against the wall.]

Natasha: A few victories against girls who were constantly told they couldn’t defeat you by everyone involved with the DCWL, to any fan whose focus is on wrestling in your region. When this is all you know, it makes it very difficult to have confidence in yourself. Unfortunately, at least it’s not fortunate for you; the hype has gone to your head as well. This will be your biggest downfall when you step into the ring against me Sierra, your body will quickly become racked with pain, your strategy will go out the window, and you will not know what you are being put through….

Unfortunately Sierra, your own hype will be the creation of your downfall. If anything comes from our encounter, I hope you will learn how to be humble, how to prepare, and most of all you will learn respect. Without respecting this sport and those in it, you will not last long, and I will greatly enjoy teaching you a lesson.

[Fade.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

JACKSON HUNTER

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

Vancouver, British Columbia.

Rei Onisha slouched into her leather couch and handed Jackson Hunter a small glass of club soda. “I can’t believe you still drink that stuff plain,” she said. Jax took a sip and sloshed it around in his mouth.

“At least it’s not half vodka any more, Rei.” He took a larger gulp. “I’ve been dry for over six years now. Besides… I’m weird, right? That’s why you married me eight years ago.”

“Well, Jax,” Onisha replied in her withering deadpan, “knocking me up had something to do with it, I should think.” She looked over her shoulder, realizing what she said was sensitive information. “Sorell’s in bed, right?”

“Of course. She finished her math. We played some Wii, and then nine o’clock, straight to bed.”

“Wow, you’d think you were her dad or something.”

Hunter cringed. One of the few people who could effectively talk smack back to him and he had married her. Jax felt sorry for anyone who would try to bully his little girl in school. He imagined she would respond with a ten minute diatribe of vitriolic insults. Or a pipe wrench over the head.

“You know, Andrew,” Rei said, using Jax’s given name, “any time you want to stop being a glorified babysitter and start being a daddy again would be the right time.”

“I have responsibilities, Rei.” Hunter gulped down the last of the bitter tonic.

“I know how you feel about the DCWL, but it’s not worth it, guy. You don’t need the money; I make enough from the consulate that I can EASILY support both of us. And… I’m worried about you. You got crushed the last couple of outings. I heard what O’Connor did to that guy Chazz and I know what he could do to you.” She looked at him, concern in her eyes. “Noah Prejudice was right about you. You belong here.”

He set his glass on the coffee table in front of him. “Ever since I started wrestling there’s always been two people, Rei. You know that. Over the past eighteen months I’ve been Andrew Clermont. And I’ve liked being Andrew Clermont for once. Andrew Clermont is who I am.” He paused, looking out at the rainy night. “A while ago that kid from North Dakota I had my last match against said something that brought it all in to focus. He said I made a great reputation for myself on the indies. Two Grand Championships, a Platinum Championship, working my ass off to be known as the greatest the DCWL had ever seen…”

Jax saw it all in his head. He heard the muffled pop his surgically-repaired shoulder made. The click in his knee. The way one of his fingers seemed to point slightly off in one direction when it was broken and never fully repaired. “All that suffering. All that sweat. All that blood spilled. It means nothing. I’m the last one left, Rei. Oh sure, there’s Ace Stevens’ merry band of wingnuts. But people like Joe Pansac and Derrick Ford and Jive and Mario Speedwagon… they’re products of the new DCWL. And I look back and I hear Noah, and Naja, and Guido Milano, and Johnny Detson, and Haplo. And I hear them down there in the darkness, in the distance, and they’re screaming to me, ‘Jax! Jax! They’re forgetting about us, Jax!’ All the pain and torment and glory, all of it reduced to a mention in the history books!”

“And I think of how I wanted so badly to be the best and how I just never could. And all the things I did to get on top and STAY on top. And how, at the end, no one really gave me a receipt. When I was on top, the DCWL faded away over a period of three years because I was so damn selfish. I could have been so much more that some Old Misery Guts. I have the burden of the old DCWL on my shoulders. I am the last. And that’s my responsibility.”

There was silence in the air. Rei Onisha and Andrew Clermont watched the rain batter the city from the condo window.

“Andrew,” Onisha said at last, “you know by now that I can’t watch you wrestle, because of what James O’Connor might do.”

“Rei, don’t watch me. You never know what Jax might do.”

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

BUZZSAW

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Wadsworth High School

1:04am

-Friendship…they say the friends you make in high school will never last…you go off to school or work and the people you called friends will drift away. You go out into the world…make new friends and begin your life, well in some cases the people you meet in high school will be with you forever….

I came to this school when I was in 11th grade…the new kid in town….sent to live with my mother and her new family after dear old dad took off with the waitress from the IHOP. Damn Child Welfare office…I was on my own for weeks before our noisy ass neighbor started to snoop around and made the call…so I was shipped off to a woman you left me and her new family, the family she always dreamed of. Husband who wore a suit to work everyday, kid who was an all American athlete…I was just a sad reminder to her…a reminder of the crappy life she left behind…..

The school was full of white suburban punks…upper middle class is what they call it….all of them thought the world was there’s, that they answered to nobody and I was just a piece of dirt under their shoes. The word got out quick…he was from Akron, an outsider to their town and way of life. He didn’t wear the new cloths or cool shoes…no he wore dirty old jeans and black metal band T-shirts. He smoked out back and was a constant in afternoon detention. He was in every way the opposite for his half brother who refuse to acknowledge him…him and his friends would walk right pass, every once in awhile someone would do the loser cough, it’s surprising how quickly that stops after you choke someone so badly they can’t talk right for a month, that bought me a months worth of Saturday detention….pretty rough, but if it hadn’t been for that I would have never met Logan….

Logan Braddock was being raised by a single mom, he like me was a misfit, something to be looked down by the sheep at this school. I never understood why a school would put all the neglect youth, all its problem children in one room together and on this particular Saturday morning the stars were aliened, Logan Braddock sitting next to Derek Stone. Now as much as we didn’t want to be there the proctor sure as hell didn’t want to be there and rarely stayed in the room the entire time which gave up convicts time to talk. Logan was serving a three month sentence for fighting with a basketball player…funny thing was he didn’t throw the first punch, or the second punch but he did break the kids arm causing the team to lose five straight. He was training at a wrestling gym in Akron… Benny’s Wrestling School on Ghent Road five days a week…he spoke about it like it was an escape…an escape from this place, this town, this lifestyle….

I was never going to be a Wadsworth Grizzly but a professional wrestler was something I could become. Logan took me to the school where I became alive for the first time…the life on the streets of Akron was a great training ground for a life in wrestling. Logan and I became friends, a team…the school had given us a bond and this bond is what got us through that high school. We talked about the time that we would be in the same wrestling company…being the stars we knew we would be and after graduation we set out to do just that but like all good plans things ever work out just like you want them too….

Logan was signed to the IWL and I headed to Japan….it would be years before we would both wind up in the CEW. ‘Sledge’ was the first ever CEW World Champion and I had made my name as a ‘Hardcore’ star, we found our place there and just like we had years ago formed a friendship that would take us to tag team gold, but over time jealousy would divide us. Now like in every story there are different sides, different versions of the tale…some will say it was me trying to emerge from his shadow…that I had outgrown Sledge and needed to concentrate on my career….some will say Sledge had earned another shot and I should have let him have that shot….but one thing is clear, our friendship couldn’t survive our thirst for glory. Sledge and Buzzsaw friends, tag team partners, heated rivals, mortal enemies.   

 Like all friendships things start to fester…you get on each others nerves….but in our case it was because of this business. It starts with something small, one guy gets a push or elevated over the other. People begin to talk about how one is holding the other down or how the other is only getting his shot because of the team’s success. Our friendship began to splinter…we where going in different directions…there was jealousy and bitterness…and then fireworks. Two best friends, guys from the same block now enemies…each thought they were right…each thought they where better. A ten year friendship ruined by this business…each wanted to prove to the world they were the best and where willing to injure the other just to prove they where right….

It was a feud that never died, not even with the closing of the CEW. Managed by the same man, there names where linked, the rivalry continued. They went there separate ways but each tried to out earn the other, they could no longer compete against each other in the ring but they could try to out do each other in what they brought into McFarland Management. I watched as Sledge won the DCWL Dangerous Championship….I watched from the bar, I was out of work…a spectator of the business I had once dominated. He had clearly pulled ahead until Tim pulled me back in….back up onto my feet and out of the depression. Tim got me my shot in the DCWL, I told myself this time would be different. I was going there to fuck with Logan, he had his own thing going…his own battles to fight. I told Tim to assure him that I wasn’t going to get involved in his matters….it was all in the past…..

I was going to try to be a better man….help others out and not make everything about me. When I saw that The Great Atma and Alton West needed a third I offered my services…I would hate to see them forced to forfeit their title shot. We gave Unique Element everything they could handle….we pushed the Trio Champions farther than they have been pushed….we had nothing to feel bad about, but jealousy struck once again. To blame me for the loss was ridiculous…those two men were lucky to have me as a partner. Then to find out that the news of me signing with the DCWL was just that to Logan, news, put me on edge. Tim should have told him…warned him…told him it wasn’t personal but I heard him bitching and moaning. Worried about me and the past and then goes out and loses his match and title…well I guess I’ll get blamed for that one….

So tonight I return to where it all started…Wadsworth High School….to start new, to leave the past and look towards the future…my future in the DCWL. Headlights pull into the parking lot and I stand up from the bench I was on as Tim McFarland steps out of his car and walks my way.-

Tim McFarland: Really Buzz? It’s really necessary to meet here at 1 am, what if the cops show up? What are they going to think?

Buzzsaw: Don’t worry about it Tim, shift change, they are all back at headquarters. You forget I use to live here, I know how to get away with things, plus I didn’t want to run the risk of running into Logan at your office, I heard he’s a bit upset.

Tim McFarland: I’m not going to lie, he’s pissed about you signing with DCWL, he wants to make sure you aren’t going to try to rehash old problems the two of you had. He needs to concentrate on his title match at Cornerstone Revolution V, he wants that Dangerous Championship back.

Buzzsaw: Well tell him I won’t get involved, that he doesn’t need to worry about me.

Tim McFarland: That will be great man, I’ll tell him in the morning.

Buzzsaw: But he’ll owe me!

Tim McFarland: He’ll owe you? Owe you what?

-I had thought a lot about it….he could blame me all he wanted for that lose…act like his head wasn’t in it because of me…I was his built in excuse for losing, but if he wanted me to promise I would stay in the back it was going to cost him….something big!-

Buzzsaw: I’ll stay in the back and watch it from a monitor, but I want a title shot if he manages to beat Joshua Curtis.

Tim McFarland: Come on Buzz, I can’t make that happen, I can’t demand my two clients face off if he wins.

Buzzsaw: If he wins, don’t think he can get the job done do you Tim?

Tim McFarland: I didn’t mean if, I know he’ll win that title back, but Buzz he wants to leave the past in the past, you said the same thing, you weren’t coming to the DCWL to get revenge on Logan. You have your own match, The Great Atma, you need to concern yourself with him.

Buzzsaw: Come on Tim, you know as well as I that his punk doesn’t stand a chance. This will be my coming out party and I have my eyes on much bigger goals. It’s been nice having some cash again, to be able to buy a descent meal again and stay in a hotel that doesn’t have rats. It’s got me thinking of the old days again Tim, back when I was someone, a champion. I could be that man again here in the DCWL and I’m not going to be held down by Logan, not this time, so if he wants me to stay out of his match then it will cost him.

-I look at Tim one more time and through the parking lot light I can see the shock on his face…he never saw it coming. He thought this was all behind him….that this feud was in the past….but sometime the past comes back to haunt us all…………..-

~FIN~

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

JAMES O'CONNOR

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[White words on a black background.  Simple, plain font.]

JACKSON HUNTER

THE DCWL YEARS: VOLUME 1 (2003-2008)

[The words are stationary, but we pull back to see the black is a little grainy, the white not so white.  It is as if it is a slide projected onto a screen.]

[Oh, geez.]

[Indeed, Hunter's signature prop is set up and ready to go.  Into the frame steps a man with a black leather coat on his back and a little black remote in his hand.  This is "Cunning" James O'Connor, turning to face the camera and ready for his close up.]

JOC: This is the story of the greatest wrestler in DCWL history.

[Click.  An image of a younger Jackson Hunter sporting a red-brown leather coat, wide-collared cream colored shirt, track pants, and unruly spiked bright blue hair.]

JOC: Jackson Hunter debuted on DCWL television on December 4th, 2003.  He had been known elsewhere, of course, but he entered the Demented Creatons Wrestling League with little fanfare.  He spent his first promo telling everyone that he was getting up there in years, possibly looking to retire soon, but that he'd make a statement against garbage wrestling on behalf of the "athletes" out there.

[ A scene from Demented Quest II (as told by the subtitle).  Jax looks out in shock at a tall man with black hair, standing on the other side of a steel cage, his arm raised in victory.]

JOC: Sure you made an impact coming in, but that first supercard?  Not so much.  I have to assume that you didn't mean to escort Mark Haley out of the cage that night, and lord knows you spent the next three years trying to make up for it.

[Cornerstone Revolution II poster, featuring the main event of Jackson Hunter versus Grand Champion Skye Ashner.]

JOC: You'd rally, though, and work your way into the Grand Championship match at the biggest event on the DCWL calendar.  Some apparently felt it was too soon, that Jackson Hunter wasn't of the class of the great Skye Ashner.  Jax didn't win, but in taking the champ to the full three falls he served notice that he would be heard from again.

[Still shot of a large Greek man hoisting Hunter up for a gigantic powerbomb.  You can already see the taser in Jackson's hand.]

JOC: After falling short at Demented Quest, you got your second big shot at the Grand at Ark of Apocalypse 2005.  You defeated both Naja Takemara and the giant Haplo the Vagabond to win the biggest prize in this company.  That you won it with the help of a weapon, when you had arrived sworn to take wrestling back from the hacks, went largely unnoticed.

[A still shot of a full nelson bridged suplex, with Hunter on the receiving end.  His shoulder is off the mat.]

JOC: This allowed you, at Cornerstone Revolution, to finally silence the critics by retaining against your bete noir Mark Haley and his brother Orion.  It took an official review, of course, and there's some question as to how binding that decision should have been, but it stays, forever, as a win.

[Video of Hunter backing up the aisle, triumphantly raising the Grand Championship, bookended by an older competitor and a younger, black haired woman.]

JOC: You lost that title a short time later to Noah Prejudice, but came into Demented Quest IV with a plan: win it back, by any means necessary.  You allied with a long time rival Curt Olsen and, along with your girlfriend Erica Toughill, formed the War Measures Act.  The WMA would help you retain your title through every challenge until...

[A still shot of a dejected Jackson Hunter, walking up the aisle while most of the locker room celebrates in the ring.  A blonde haired man holds the Grand Championship aloft.]

JOC: ...it all fell apart.  Erica left you.  Olsen abandoned you.  You lost your title to Johnny Detson and would be forced to have surgery not too much later.

[The screen goes blank for a moment.]

JOC: While I'm sure you all appreciate the history lesson, I bring it all up because I noticed something looking through these events.  Jackson Hunter just might be the best champion this company has ever seen.  As a competitor, he is legend.  Yet, on the grandest stage of them all, he was an inch away from falling short all three times.  He came in to the league promising to take it back for the wrestlers, but found he couldn't cut it as an athlete.  It was only when he himself began to use weapons that the Grand Championship came to be around his waist.  After all, pure technical wrestlers don't really need one of these.

[A pipe wrench.]

JOC: Jackson Hunter, the greatest wrestler in DCWL history, is a myth.  When you succeeded, it was due to weapons and help from allies.  On the big stage, without these advantages, you FAILED.  But the mystique of Jackson Hunter, to say nothing of the might of the WMA, was enough to create the proverbial glass ceiling that some...

[A photo of three men standing in front of a blue background.  One is tall and muscular.  The second is short, stout, and holds the DCWL Grand Championship.  The third is a moderately built kid with black, stringy hair and a clean shaven face - a younger James O'Connor.  All three where red and black t-shirts that read "BEST OF THE BEST."]

JOC:...could never shatter.  That is, until you exited stage right.  Logan McKenzie is retired.  The Rat is resting comfortably in his mansion.  But me?  I'm still here.  I'm the Spirit of Wrestling Warrior Champion, a member of the Shootfire Army and a bona fide star in the making, and I did it all with my own bare hands.  I am the athlete for whom you were saving the DCWL all those years ago.  This time, though, I'm here to save wrestlign from you.

[A hard smirk from JOC.]

JOC: At Cornerstone Revolution, the myth of the "Bulletproof" Jackson Hunter is laid to rest, once and for all.  You may be the wily veteran, but you just don't have it in you to compete with James Francis O'Connor.  Don't believe me?  Just watch him.

[A final click of the remote.  A graphic similar to the first appears, taking up the whole screen.]

JACKSON HUNTER

THE DCWL YEARS: VOL. 2 (12/16/09 - 3/17/10)

[Fade out.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

DAISETSU BANDO

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[We open to Daisetsu Bando, a near legend in Japan for his dominance in Alpha Pro winning the International Wrestling Alpha Council Championship on three occasions and winning the BHC Championship on two occasions, being the first person to do so. He stands in front of a NJWF logo, an intense look on his face.]

Bando: BLUE Matsuyama, I have watched your antics in the indies for the past few years. You haven’t done anything in Japan , but fight Junior Heavyweights and Rookies to build your name as a Freelancer…

You used your two wins of the 4 Japan Crown tournament to make you money instead of answering my challenges when I was BHC World Champion. You are nothing but a coward that is a stain on the name of Puroresu, I look forward to defeating you.

[Fade.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

SIERRA BROWNE

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[Fade in:

Sierra Browne stands before the backdrop of the DCWL.  The Siren's champion has both her belts draped over her shoulders.  She is dressed mostly in her wrestling gear except for a leopard skin stole that she has wrapped around her shoulders, providing a backdrop for two of the most prestigious titles in women's wrestling.]

Sierra Browne: You know, I love fashion.  I particularly love leopard.  I love leopard fur.  I just think it's beautiful.  Don't you?  And segueing metaphorically with this Beautiful Leopard talk maybe I should address Juri.  That poor beautiful leopard who's scalp I'm sporting right now.  Juri, a Leopard can't change her spots.  Isn't that the expression?  That's true.  The spots don't change.  And you girl, need a lesson in the Truth.  Thank God I'm around here.  Because you whined and you moaned and you said you know what happened the last time a Joshua Curtis protégé wrestled a champion from Trinidad.  I have no idea what you were talking about then and I don't now.  Didn't Heather Owens pin a Frenchman to win her bogus championship?  See, that's the Truth, Juri.  That's what you're not used to.  And maybe, just maybe, you should have asked the rest of Japan about Sierra Browne.  I was killing the scene over there for years when the joshi puroresu set meant something.  I mean, sure you got some cute moves in against me, but I hit you with the Truth not once but twice and dominated the match as I went.  Why?  Because I'm that Bitch.  And that's just the Truth, my friend.  Go back to class and learn to wrestle and stop crying like a little girl so Goddamn much.  You'll be a better wrestler for it.  Hell, you may even become a bitch like me, doux doux darlin'.

[Sierra pauses for a beat to flash her pearly white smile into the camera lens.]

Sierra Browne: Now, onto the next.  One thing about the DCWL is that they like to throw challenges my way.  Two title defenses back-to-back and they think that I'm going to fold?  No, my friend, I'm too much of a bitch for that.  They're going to allow me to prove that I am that damn good.  Two straight days of Sierra Browne at Cornerstone Revolution V because they don't have enough quality women to leave me out of the ring.  Let's talk about Day One.  Heather Watkins, it's you and me, one-on-one for the SOW championship and a chance to add to the gold collection by taking on NJWF's Moira Faith.  Heather, put aside your pride.  Put it aside.  I want you to ask yourself one question and answer it honestly.  Do you really believe that you can take this from _me?_

[Sierra violently slaps the SOW championship.]

Sierra Browne: Fiona Cassidy wasn't a bad hand in the ring.  She had some talent.  And she couldn't keep this from me when it was her chance to unify the titles.  Don't let anybody fool you.  Sierra Browne only shows up when it counts.  Otherwise, I'm just getting ready.  This appears to be your first walk on the big stage.  Your chance to score the greatest upset of your career.  Me?  This _is_ my career, girl.  Winning titles is my job and I'm the best in the world at what I do.  Please do not fool yourself.  Do not let foolish pride get in the way and start bragging about how you're going to win.  Because you're not.  And that NJWF title shot is mine.  It has to be.  Moira Faith may believe that she is somebody in this world because she's the new hot thing.  I have always been the Gold standard.  I have always been the greatest women's wrestler in this or any other generation.  And I'm going to prove it.  Because the World needs me.  They don't know about Heather Watkins.  They don't care about Heather Watkins.  They care about me.  And I know that you know that's the Truth, girl.  And your pride gets to you.  It hurts you that you're inferior.  But that's just the hard truth.  I am Sierra Synclair Browne and that name is synonymous with excellence.  Ask Fiona Cassidy.  Ask Juri the Beautiful Leopard.  Ask everyone in the world who will admit that Sierra Browne has only ever been pinned once for a title.  And I have closed down too many promotions because of my dominance.  Heather Watkins, after Cornerstone Revolutions, you may have a bright future ahead of you, but the truth is on that day the Heavens open up and it's all dark clouds.  You cannot compete with me.  You cannot be me.  You cannot beat me.  You're just another notch on the SOW belt.  Enjoy your spotlight.

[Sierra shifts her attention to the DCWL Sirens championship on her right shoulder.]

Sierra Browne: And now for this belt.  The DCWL wants it off of me apparently, because they're putting me in the ring with three other challengers.  The Beautiful Leopard who's already proven to be a toothless tiger, a clawless kitty, a feline failure ... I won't dignify her with more of my words.  Then there's the non-descript Mina Eyre.  I don't know anything about you or care anything about you except that you're trying to pin me.  Well, guess what, you won't.  See, this match favours me, because all of you have to pin me to win the belt instead of any random somebody.  It doesn't matter which weak link I find in the chain, I win.  So you all have to fight each other as much as you have to fight me.  Do you have that in you, Mina?  I don't think so.  I don't think you have the guts to clear everybody else out of the ring so that you can beat me down so badly one-on-one.  Just like the aging weed, Mistress Dandelion, who had the audacity to touch me and my belt.  Dandelion, your expiration date has passed.  You may have been some beautiful model in the 60s or whenever you were birthed, but in the 10s, the ageless and timeless Sierra Browne is still the standard.  I'm still far too good, far too strong, and far too athletic for you.  You're going to wilt under the pressure, you pathetic little flower and I'm going to pluck you petal by petal until I hit you with the Truth and blow you away like so many dandelion spores.  Individually none of you are good enough.  Collectively, none of you are good enough.  At Cornerstone Revolution you are going to see.  You will all become believers in the Truth.  You will all become believers ... in ME!

[Fade out]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

LEON CORELLA

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[He stands with his back to the camera before a black, featureless, backdrop, partially silhouetted by an overhead light shining directly down upon him.  His attire consists of black and gold tights, matching elbow pads, hand and wrist tape, and black wrestling boots, and his hair is a short, neat, dirty blond.  Upon his right shoulder blade is a tattoo of a skull and rose.  Yes, who else could it be but Leon Corella.]

Corella-  ....One would think that I have nothing more to say, coming in to the biggest event on the DCWL calendar, Cornerstone Revolution 5.

[Leon casts a sideways glance over one shoulder.]

I've spelled it out in words, actions, and even with blood on the pavement over the last few months.  Sometimes it was simple...

[He lifts his right hand up with an upturned palm gesture.]

...Such as a hammer shot to the mouth or a kick to the nuts...

[That hand slowly closes into a tightened fist.]

...Other times it came as an abstract lesson in brutality and violence.

[His head lowers along with that clenched fist, Leon taking in a long, drawn breath and then letting loose an equally long exhale.]

I tried to be a good, honest man when I came back to the game.  I wanted so desperately to make the new me work, but do you know what happens to good guys who try to do the right thing?

[Leon slowly turns around to face the camera, his face the grim slate of a man accepting what appeared to be a great burden.]

....They get walked on, and nobody gives a good god damn what happens.  I've lost everything trying to be a good guy, and you know what's funny?

[A sad chuckle escapes his lips.]

The moment I stopped being a good guy, and started doing what felt... natural...  People started to cheer even louder.  Well, if that's what the people want...

[With a quick shake of his head and a tired expression suddenly crossing his face, Leon lifts his hands out to either side of himself, and then drops them back down with an audible slap to his outer thighs in a gesture of resignation.]

...Then that is what they shall receive.  Violence.

[Clenching his fists tightly, Leon lowered his head and closed his eyes as he spoke in a icy, almost chilling tone.]

Pure...

...Unbound....

[He stretches his arms out completely and lifts his head back, his fists shaking with white knuckled tension...]

....Violence

[...and then he brings them back in, his fists opening up like claws as he crosses his arms over his chest and slowly opens his eyes.  Leon's face twists into a rather unnerving, psychotic wolf's grin.]

 First, It'll be Maurice Thompson.  In the beginning, I didn't want to face him because there was still a part of me trying to hold back.  After all, he and I have no issues that need settling...

[Slowly Leon's head tilts back, is hands slowly lowering down.]

...In fact, if there was ever anyone I identified most with in this promotion, it would be "The Native" Maurice Thompson.

[The grin fades as Leon's head tilts to the left, a more serious expression painting his features.]

He's ambitious, driven, talented, and motivated.  The boy has a worthy cause to pursue and he is, of course, hungry for glory.  He reminds me of myself at his age, only with a bit more face paint and a funky look.

[He smirks.]

Not too long ago, I begged Kyle Hayden not to set me against him in the ring.  I pleaded with the man, even going so far as to say "I will kill him" in that ring.  Now?  I look forward to what I'm about to do to that poor kid.  He needs to learn that no matter how big a smile or how many compliments a wolf gives you, the wolf is still a wild, untamed animal that will follow it's nature.

[Leon clasps his hands together tightly, his knuckles popping softly...]

Maurice I ask only one thing.  Do not blame me when your body is too broken to face The American Freebear on day two of CR 5.  Hayden wanted this, so this is what he shall receive.  You will be going for the win...

[With a loud smack, He pounds his fist into his palm, grinding those taped knuckles into it...]

...I'll be looking to end you.  The referee will be pulling me off of your bloody corpse, and it will not be my fault.  I am merely a hammer in someone else's hand, and you're the nail being driven down.  It's nothing personal, I just have to kill you.

[...Leon's teeth were clenched and bared, his face twisted into that intimidating scowl.  For a few brief seconds, he fights to keep the building rage and anger inside of him, his body tenses visibly, each muscle a rigid rock.]

Now, as for Big... Mike... Foyer...  I've spoken my peace.  Everyone knows what's coming, even he does.  I will not stop until he is no longer moving.  If so much as a finger twitches or a muscle spasms, I will keep beating him until I've turned 350 pounds of Bad Mother F**ker into a puddle of Blood, Guts, and Sh*t.

[...A brief pause...]

He's a tough, strong son of a b*tch, but he isn't even one tenth as pissed off as I am.  Our match isn't about winning, Big Mike.  It's about survival, and when it comes to survival, I am the King.  I don't plan to pin you.  I have no intention of going for a TKO.  I intend to inflict as much bodily damage upon you as I can.  Unlike Thompson, however, it is personal, and I will do more than kill you.  I will make you suffer as you have made me suffer.

[Leon now quaked with rage, his face turning bright red as veins begin to surface on his neck, chest, and arms.]

I WILL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM YOU, MIKE!!!  I WILL KILL YOUR DREAMS, AND DESTROY ALL THAT MAKES YOU!!!

[With that, he ends it with a trademark signature-  The heel of his boot colliding with the lens of the camera, the feed cutting instantly to static.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

"DARK ANGEL" JOSHUA CURTIS

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

We are in Montreal, Quebec, Canada live and in colour as the weather starts to warm up in the city to get ready(hopefully) for spring soon!

One may ask why are we here especially considering that the federation known as Shootfire Pro isn't wrestling here at the moment. That answer, believe it or not, rests in a home in the centre of the city. This is the home of two individuals and by now I'm sure you know them but for those that have never met them allow me to introduce them to you.

The first is “The Prodigy” Heather Owens. A woman that is very much proud of her country and isn't afraid to show it. Recently she had been locked into a feud with a stable in SPW called “Young and Beautiful” and is going to be competing on their flagship show called “Conquest” against a woman named Erica Sato.

Because of her nationalistic pride Heather was at one time loathed by the fans of the United States but has quickly become their new “Hero” as it were and the fight against the faction, not to mention the meeting of a former friend might have helped that!

And then of course there's “Him”...

Who's that you ask? The current reigning and defending DCWL “Dangerous” Champion, “Dark Angel” Joshua Curtis!

“Dark Angel” is an interesting case because he's a very violent and unorthodox wrestler that has become almost one of the top stars in the company. I say “Almost” because there's wrestlers like Leon Corella, Maurice Thompson, and his opponent, Logan Braddock that are more established than he at the moment and even he, “The Dark Angel of the DCWL”, knows it full well and good!

So who's home on this day? Well Tina and Heather are getting ready for Conquest while Curtis is home in a darkened room that no one can find their way in. As we make are way up the stairs and look into the office we can hear his voice...but that's it!

Dark Angel: We have company? I'm sorry I didn't expect any or I'd of left a light on. Do come in but shut the door behind yourselves

[The cameraman does as asked and as he turns around the lights slowly come on to reveal a MASSIVE bookcase and a red oak wooden desk with a iMac Desktop computer sitting atop it and Curtis dressed not in his normal garb, but rather a red suit and white shirt with a red tie. Some people think that he's been in Don Cherry's closet but everyone knows his past with the proud Canadian.

As the cameraman looks around the room with the camera in awe Curtis smiles and begins speaking again...]

Dark Angel: First off before we get started I have some sad news to report: Juri will no longer be in DCWL because we have asked her to go fine tune her skills before attempting to wrestle here again. Will she compete in SOW or NJWF? We don't know yet but that will be determined during our break.

Now onto the matter at hand and that is you Mr. Braddock. You are one of the finest wrestlers this company has my good man and management is giving you a spot in day two of DCWL's biggest show of the year bar none, “Cornerstone Revolution V”, and they feel you are deserving of a title match. You are Mr. Braddock and that will not be taken from you nor me taking you lightly. What you must prepare for Sledge is walking down an aisle that leads to 16 feet of hell and torture. Steel is an unforgiving surface and it can be used to maim, disfigure and destroy careers. The problem for you my friend is that the man you will be facing to get the title from LIVES in that structure! I LIVE to hurt, torture and destroy anyone that gets put in that cell with me. Your hope is that I'm in a good mood and I want to spare you because after our match regardless of outcome you and I have to go against the scum of the Earth in SPW...I'll touch on them in a minute!

Braddock have you thought about why you wrestle? Is it to entertain, to act like a showboat or is it because you love the business that you are in? I'm in this business because the little men that lived in my head ever since I've been busted open for the first time many years back in London tell me its the only way I can keep from going apeshit on a human being that doesn't deserve it! Interesting paradox isn't it Braddock?

So here's the deal my good friend: Get some sleep, kiss your family, say goodbye to your friends because I'm going to promise you one thing Logan and that is if you survive the 16 feet of steel against me you deserve to wear the belt that I now proudly hold for this company and my Angels.

And speaking of “proud people”...

James O'Connor...The more you and your “Ambassador” stick your nose into the DCWL the more I despise a company like the one you come from! The ONLY reason that I tolerate SPW is because my girlfriend works there and because...because there's another young lady that I want to help.

James you call yourself “Cunning” and are currently the SOW “Warrior” champion. Tell me something Connor what kind of warrior puts their hands on announcers?! What kind of man beats up someone that has had heart conditions and nearly kills them?! Connor you are one of the many things wrong with SPW and I will make damn sure that after all is said and done I will erase you from their memory!

The fun and games are over Connor. When I show up there in SPW I just might talk to the “HBIC” and see if she let me show you how I handle punks like you! You are nothing without your cute little handler are you? I don't care if its SPW or SOW but we WILL have a match soon and pal when its all over you will be on your back looking up at a man that could kill you if he wanted to...but that'd be too good for you wouldn't it?

Connor when you go to sleep at night from this point forward, when you walk out of your house and get in your car I strongly suggest you start looking over your shoulder and looking in the rearview cos April is almost upon us and when the gates of hell are opened Connor YOU...WILL NOT SURVIVE WHAT I AM GOING TO PUT YOU THROUGH!

So it is with that that I say unto you and Braddock one thing:

Do you believe in angels?

Good night gentlemen

[FADE OUT!!!]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

SLEDGE

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[The scene opens inside Benny’s gym in Akron, Ohio. All the lights in the building are off, except for a few flickering fluorescent lights around the ring. A make shift cage is built up around the ring, comprised of scrap fence posts and rusty chain link fence. A voice comes in, somewhere out of frame.]

SLEDGE: It doesn’t look like much, but it serves its purpose.

[Logan ‘Sledge’ Braddock comes walking into frame. His long hair pulled back, wearing a black Motorhead T-shirt, and black Adidas warm up pants. Sledge walks over to the ring, leans up against the chain link fence and looks up, over his shoulder.]

SLEDGE: And its purpose is to separate the wheat from the chaff…the men form the boys.

[Sledge paces back and forth in front of the ring.]

SLEDGE: It’s a funny thing, the steel cage. It can make you a man, or it can take everything away. It can raise you to the top of the wrestling world, or drop you straight to the bottom. It can make you a legend, or in the blink of an eye, it can destroy your career.

[Sledge finds a chair near the ring and takes a seat.]

SLEDGE: Over the years, I have seen my fair share of steel cages. Sometimes I’d walk out the victor, sometimes I walk out the defeated, and on a few occasions, I was carried out a beaten, bloodied and broken man. But there is one thing that never changed…I always came out a better man. And now, once again, I will enter the steel cage. Joshua Curtis and I, in Toronto, for the Dangerous Championship. Now possibly, we both will leave the steel cage better men, but only one of us will leave with the Dangerous Championship. And that man will be me.

[Sledge rubs the back of his neck with his right hand.]

SLEDGE: Now, a couple of weeks back, at ‘The Devil Wears Lycra’, I let my emotions get the better of me. And I have to admit, I was very, very frustrated. I gave Joshua everything I had that night, and it just wasn’t enough. He was the better man that night, and as proof of the that, he walked away with the DCWL Dangerous Championship belt. I don’t plan on letting that happen again.

[Sledge stands back up, walking back over to the ring.]

SLEDGE: Did I go too far with the steel chair in Portland? Maybe. Was the Hammerlock a little too much? Possibly. Was it dirty and below the belt? Yup. But I do have to warn you Joshua…if that was too much for you, you might as well call off sick for Cornerstone Revolution and hand the title over to me. That little attack after the match was only a small taste of what you are in store for once we get inside that steel cage.

[Sledge walks towards the camera, his face filling in the entire frame.]

SLEDGE: At Cornerstone Revolution, I will leave the steel cage a better man I will leave the steel cage the DCWL Dangerous Champion. I will leave the steel cage a legend.

[Scene fades.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

HORRORSHOW (Part 1)

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[Fade in to a parking lot like any other.  There are a few modest vehicles stationed there, all beige or black or gray or blue and most all most definitely weather beaten.  Out from a gray sedan step two men: one with scraggly hair and a gray flannel shirt visible under his black coat.  The other sports black track pants, a denim jacket, aviator shades and more than a little stubble.  Joe "Deadman" Pansac and Wolf Masterson.]

WM: Thanks for the lift.

JDP: Hey, any time.  You and Mina are doing Jive and I a real solid by sparring with us today.

WM: Anything for a BnC revival.  Besides, it's the closest thing I'm going to get to Cornerstone Revolution.  I wouldn't miss it.

JDP: You already know what I think.  Use that contract of yours to get a match at Cornerstone.  You dictate the time, the place...the world is at your feet.  And rumors are that the DCWL might shut down for a bit after the show.  It may be your last shot.

[Wolf shrugs.]

WM: Just doesn't seem right, somehow.  Anyway, it's only a rumor for now.  The contract is good for a whole year...might as well wait for a good idea to present itself.  No sense forcing it just because it may not be there.

[Pansac smiles.]

JDP: Ah, it's been fun watching you grow up Wolf.  You've always had the talent, but I don't know that the Wolf Masterson who lost to Derrick Ford could have helped Horrorshow get where it is today, let alone beat Jackson Hunter.  It takes real heart to force yourself to get better after getting pinned.  I'm proud to see you show that kind of determination.

[The camera pivots as they walk past.  We see them walking to a brick building with stainless steel double doors.]

JDP: Whoever you use that contract against is gonna be in for a hell of a ride.

[Joe opens the door, allowing his young charge to walk inside.  Fade out.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

UNIQUE ELEMENT

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[Aaron Wilson, Danny Gunderson, and Gabe Lindsay the DCWL and FMLA Trios Champions, Unique Element have a lot to be proud about. On March 9th successfully defended their FMLA Trios Championships for the 3rd time against Kid Mexico, Javier Julio, and Lightning Sun. A team that upset the former two time FMLA Trios Champions Los Excellence in a surprise outcome. Unfortunately, the trio only last four minutes against Unique Element when Gabe Lindsay drilled the masked Kid Mexico with the Mass Train and followed it with the Lindsay Bomb to get the three on a unconscious Mexico .]

[Today the dual Champions have found out they will learn the identity of their challengers for their next DCWL Trios Championship tomorrow. The group is lounging around in their hotel in Mexico . They have heard rumors that wrestlers from Puerto Rico were interested in their challenge, the rumor that the Kennedy & Associates were interested has gained the most buzz, and there has been a buzz around a team from Lithuania . By the looks of these three, and the bottles of Corona and Dos Equis scattered around the living room. They seem to be in the best of spirits.]

Aaron[Smiles]: We’re doing pretty good…

Gabe: I’d say so.

Danny: Our next battle comes at Cornerstone Revolution; I don’t think anyone can defeat us right now.

[Gabe holds up a half empty Dos Equis bottle.]

Gabe: Buzzsaw gave us a scare, but we were able to hang in there…

Danny: Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that much from Buzzsaw. I think he may be more complete than Foyer.

Aaron: I don’t think there’s any doubt there, and Buzzsaw hasn’t done much other than garbage matches.

Gabe: If anything he proved that we still have to keep on our toes.

Danny: That’s true, I can hear Julia now getting on us about that..

Aaron: She has a big match coming up soon. We should definitely go to California after our match to watch.

Danny: I’m down…

Gabe: Lets do it.

[The three raise their beers as the scene fades.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

HORRORSHOW (part 2)

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[Fade in to a non-descript locker room.  Mina Eyre, dressed for battle in a black tank top and white track pants, digs through a black duffel bag looking for something.  Into the frame steps Masterson, still dressed as he was outside.  Mina doesn't even look up.]

ME: You're late.

WM: Caught a ride with Joe, so they're just as far behind as we are.

ME: Trouble with your car?

WM: Nah, just saving on gas.  Besides, Joe's good when you need a word.

[Wolf stashes his coat and t-shirt in a nearby locker.]

ME: What on - Where IS that damn thing?

[After a moment of fighting with her duffel, Mina produces a dial lock.  Triumphant, she slings the lock onto the open tall locker in front of her.  She momentarily catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror on the near wall.]

ME: Aww, SHIT.

WM: What?

ME: Damn tank ripped on the seam.

[In the grand tradition of people doing things that's bound to make the problem worse, Mina sticks a finger through a hole in the side of her top.]

WM: Is it that big of a deal?  I mean, we're only sparring.

ME: And Joe and Jive will be picking me up and throwing me around.  I don't care who it is, I don't want my shirt ripped open in the middle of a match.

[She fishes out a red tank from her bag.]

ME: Good thing I brought a spare.

[Mina whips off the tank, revealing a black sports bra.  She fumbles slightly with the replacement, but manages to get it over her head and in place.  Wolf has a slightly dazed expression on his face, which disappears by the time Mina looks back up.]

ME: So what did you talk to Joe about?

WM: The contract.

[A small smile from The Vamp.]

ME: I was actually thinking about asking you for it, as a favor, for a crack at Sierra Browne.  This, though, might be better.  I've already beaten Juri...hell, she doesn't have a win against anyone decent in the DCWL.  If her mentor wasn't the Dangerous Champion...well, the Beautiful Leopard would just be the mangy, declawed cat who couldn't beat the elite Sirens.  As for Dandelion...well, Joe has stories about her if you're interested in the past.  She treated him and Jive like shit.  Dandy might not be a wrestler like we are, but I have no problems pummeling the crap out of her.  I think of it as doing what those two are too nice to do.

[She shakes her head.]

ME: But really, it's all about Sierra Browne.  She's undefeated, she has all the gold, and she is the Alpha Bitch until further notice.  Thing is, though, I haven't lost either.  I beat Juri without a crooked ref.  I toppled the Annoyed Gabby.  I'm sure she'd say that it's because I haven't faced her yet.  But maybe, just maybe, she's undefeated because she hasn't yet felt the Kiss of the Vamp.

JDP (from outside): YOU GUYS READY?!

[Wolf jerks his head toward the door, through which they promptly leave.]

[Fade out.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

AMERICAN FREEBEAR

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

The American Freebear: where once was a fun-loving and free-flying wrestler who delighted hundreds with his aerial proficiency, now there is naught but a cruel Southern elitist that strikes FEAR into the hearts of men with his penchant for brutality!]

fans: Su-Su-Suuuuu... Suuuu!!!!!!!

[The passers-by are scared. They stare at the the big six foot four, three-hundred and thirty-eight pound monster that nevertheless manages to fly as gracefully as a bird, but lands like a catapulted hippo. They know they are but prey for the only bear that flies, and they can only cower and hide from the approaching maelstrom of destruction making his way.]

fans: SUUUUUUU-

[The American Freebear now enters DCWL's Cornerstone Revolution V as a force of pure, unadultered terror. Invited for a pre-show promotional appearence in his least favorite country in the world (hint: it's CANADA), the Freebear does not look pleased at the unwholesome welcome he is receiving. The people simply point to the Freebear and stare, and this annoys the DCWL Grand Champion tremendously. Of course, there's a good reason why the smart Canadian wrestling fans are unable to pry their eyes away from the ungodly sight before them.]

fans: SUUUUUUUIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Because for the first time *EVER*... the American Freebear is wearing a SUIT.]

Freebear: Fer crissakes, you guys look like you never saw a bear in a suit before! But honestly? I think the problem with Canada is that they've never seen a respectable wrestling champion before! One with pride! One with integrity! One that can be seen as a model of civility to all the pancake-stuffing lumberjacks out there! *BRAAAAAAAAWP*

[Please excuse the Freebear: big lunch before his presentation that day.]

Freebear: I'm gonna have a lotta fighting to do these next two days. I'll be taking on the man that tied and tied again against me, Derrick L. Ford. All Maurice Thompson has to do is fight the trash I already defeated in Leon Corella, but am I complaining? Am I calling him a weak whinning little pissant that has to cry to get anything at all? Sure, in the locker room, or when I'm in private meetings with Kyle Hayden, or on Maurice's facebook account... but not here. I have far too much class for that.

[Since the Freebear brought it up, the press have started asking him questions concerning his opponent for the first night of the event: Derrick Ford himself.]

Freebear: Sure, I might not have respected Derrick L. Ford in the past, but time spent in DCWL managed to change my opinion of the man. I mean, Lyndon Ford! That's a huge company! Derrick is a huge man! This is all so huge compared to a know-nothing injun that SNUBS MY SEGMENTS!!! God you guys are such losers. NONE OF YOU KNOW HOW TO FLY!!! NONE OF YOU ARE WORTHY OF MY BELT!!

[Thus we tried changing the subject some more...]

Freebear: Compared to Maurice Thompson, Derrick L. Ford is a giant of a man! I mean, you know what he did? HE SANG A SONG ABOUT DEFEATING ME ONCE!!!! I mean, hot shit Maurice, you never done nothin' so awesome as SING A FRIGGIN' SONG!!!! I mean, no wonder he was brought up as the equal to a moonsaulting bear that destroys everything caught underneath! I mean, DCWL had the choice between a singing son of an oil tycoon and the most impressive talent in pro-wrestling today so obviously these two had to be brought up as equals!

[However, we totally failed in achieving anything productive. Our collective bad.]

Freebear: One thing NOT comparable to a singing son of an oil magnate receiving preferential treatment from the brass due to political currying of favor and a bone-crushing aerial ursine that is your grand Championship champion is an *Indian with a blog*. That is what you are Maurice: an Indian with a blog. You spend your time talking about your upcoming wrestling federation, which I'm sure pleased our president when he turned on his television. Then he goes back to drinking again. NICE GOING, ASSHOLE: YOUR STUPID PROMOS TURNED KYLE HAYDEN INTO AN ALCOHOLIC.

[Quickly, people started throwing questions to the Freebear about his other competition vying for his title.]

Freebear: No, I don't really care about what Leon Corella or Big Mike Foyer say about me. One is looking for excuses after losing MY title and the other just wants to be taken seriously for just being "big" in the world of pro-wrestling. Is that all there is to it, Mike? You're "BIG" and we should be impressed? We're all big boys here (except for Thompson, it seems) and saying that you're "ferocious" or "violent" doesn't impress no one either. I'm a big flying bear that flattens everything in his path; a whirlwind of ursine power that sweeps into the DCWL and blows everyone away! You're big. Big friggin' whoop, that is.

Freebear: As for Corella, man up already! I didn't even know you were drugged pre-match until you told us all immediately after losing. Then kept harping on it on and on again! AND THEY CALL *ME* A WHINER? I bet I take worse stuff in my moonshine! I wrestle thirty minute matches with Drake Tungsten! I trade against Derrick Ford in two out of three falls matches! Even Maurice Thompson wants shorter matches against me!!! I don't know what the Hell's going on, but I blame the new crop of smaller wrestlers that don't eat their beef and find out they lack the stamina to go toe-to-toe with the big hungry American Freebear!

[Said American Freebear quickly tiring of this whole charade done for an unappreciative audience, wearing a nifty suit for the occasion but unable to gain the respect of the press or his peers. When poked on the topic of being a "whiner", the American Freebear doesn't hold back.]

Freebear: See, when a few loudmouths tried (unsuccesfully) to cast me as a whiner and a complainer, they forget that I was willing to put my career on the line for the sake of victory. Do any of you have the guts to do what I did? Put everything on the line, career, livelihood, the whole works... for glory? You gutless losers: all you ever do is take whatever blows are dealth to you, smile and say "thank you, can I have some more?". I'm the guy that stood up and took what was rightfully his. I'm the guy you WISH that you were!

Freebear: Maurice Thompson: proud little warrior too proud to ever complain or accept my chances to appear onscreen with me or even to TALK about me until it was too late. Now you're JEALOUS, jealous that I spoke up and took the belt that was rightfully mine so you're calling me names, calling me a whiner! You want to be the next Grand Champion of the DCWL, but all you have to offer are lectures and detailed accounts of the last time you hit the gym on your blog! WELL SCREW YOU AND YOUR BLOG!!!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Freebear: It doesn't matter if it's Big Mike Foyer, Derrick L. Ford or Maurice Thompson that's gunning after my title, because NOTHING CAN STOP A BEAR THAT FLIES!!!

[The American Freebear yells at the Canadians to shut up, but to no success. It takes security to barge into the scene and seperate the "gracious" DCWL grand champion from the teeming mass of angry fans. Fade out to the great angry flying ursine being dragged out by half a dozen rent-a-cops.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

HORRORSHOW (part 3, w/ B.A. JIVE)

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[Fade in to a sparring ring with blue ropes and blue canvas.  On the one side, the Brains n Chains Express stand talking to each other in the corner.  A short distance away, Mina and Wolf share a high five.  All four have clearly been through a workout.]

ME: Not bad, not bad.

JDP: Great match, guys!  Time to hit the showers and get out on the town for the night.

[He turns to B.A. Jive.]

JDP: Hey, man, thanks for the gym space.  I know we team pretty well together but I wanna go in strong for Cornerstone Revolution.

BAJ: Those Doom Bustah fools have no chance, Deadman.  Unless they got Wolf, I guess.  Nice cradle, kid.

[Wolf nods in acknowledgement, then turns toward the locker room.  He finds his path blocked by Mina Eyre.]

ME: Where do you think you're going?

WM: Shower.

ME: And what ever happened to "ladies first"?

WM: Let me know when one comes in and I'll gladly...

*THWACK*

WM: Oww.

ME: That's what I thought.

[Mina turns and heads out.  The Brains n Chains Express shake their heads and have a chuckle at the youngster's expense.  Wolf rubs the back of his head.]

WM: And to think, I'm her partner.  Sierra, Juri and Dandy are in for a world of hurt.

JDP: Yeah I know, that's why I make it a point not to piss her off.

BAJ: Hey man, you need to get ready you go ahead.  I'll close up shop.

JDP: Much appreciated.

[The two slap hands before Joe jumps down, heading to the opposite room.  Wolf approaches Jive.]

WM: Hey, Jive, mind if I ask you something?

BAJ: About the contract?

WM: Yeah.

BAJ: Joe told me you might ask.  You don't want to use it at Cornerstone?

WM: Nah, I didn't see the need to be on there just to be on there.

BAJ: Wolf, just being on CR is honor enough.  Deadman and I worked our asses off to reach this point.  The league might not be what it was, but there'll always be something about this show.  Still, in my mind there's only one real way to use a contract like that.  Go for the Grand.

WM: What, me?  I can't...

BAJ: You damn fool, you have the contract!  Think of what we had to go through to even get a damn job in this business.  You had to cover yourself in fur, Joe dumped flour on himself year after year and said "BRAINS" over and over again, Mina had to be a vampire, and I had to play to the pimp/drug dealer/Huggy Bear stereotype.  You KNOW the depths we go to for a job.  You mean to tell me you suffered through all of that to get your chance and you're gonna PASS?

[Jive shakes his head.]

BAJ: Everyone in this company would KILL for that contract.  Jackson Hunter damn near did.  Joe and I fought for years, and he left some body part in damn near every country imaginable.  You think he did all that, and put all that effort into training your dumbass, just to have you say "Naw thanks" to the Grand Championship?  Shit, son, he told me you were learning.

[Wolf mulls this over for a moment.  A small half-smile creeps across his face.]

WM: You know something Jive?  You're right.  It really is the only way to go.

BAJ: That's better.  The advice ain't free, though.  Your green ass has to help shut down the gym.

WM: Sounds great.

[With this, we fade out.]

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

MAURICE THOMPSON

~~~D~C~W~L~~~

[Our scene opens with the classic effect of a television being turned on. The head and shoulders of “The Native” Maurice Thompson take up the entire screen momentarily. A white collard shirt covers his upper body; his hair is very neatly styled. By the looks of his appearance he has spent a good amount of time preparing for the filming of this video. A smile covers Maurice’s face as the image slowly begins to pan outwards. With every inch backwards more of the surrounding environment comes into view, first we see Maurice has his right hand tucked firmly into his William Rast jeans. His neck is covered by a flashy, yet classy 24’’ white gold designer necklace. As more details become available in the background our audio raises in volume.]

[The sounds of phones ringing, multiple side bars, and constant movement make for a controlled chaos setting. It become apparent that Maurice is standing inside of an office building, a large open window is seen at the far side of the room as workers scatter around trying to take care of their tasks. Surprisingly, everyone is dressed in dress shirts and ties or the finest ladies business suits. After a few more passing seconds the camera suddenly shifts back into front of Maurice, a couple of inches from our original viewing of him.]

Thompson: Some may feel that I have lived a charmed past couple of months, going from a lonely independent wrestler, to the most successful eighteen year old in the country. Others may find me undeserving of the fortune that has come my way. No matter their opinion, I have yet to hear someone say I have been given anything or have refused to work for my success.

[Maurice turns around, beginning to walk. Our view switches almost immediately to view the front of Thompson.]

Thompson: Unfortunately, the same can not be said about the eccentric and often daft DCWL Grand Champion, American Freebear. Just take a look at this….

#The Following Is Footage From A Previous Edition Of War Of The Words#

[Fade in to the American Freebear, tearing out a speed bag from the

ceiling with a mighty Bear Claw Swipe. Fade in to the American

Freebear, kicking a chair to the high Heavens. Fade in to the American

Freebear, demolishing everything in his way with a forward roll like a

deadly iron ball... made of fur. Fade in to the American Freebear,

screaming and shouting and cursing oh wait-]

Freebear: Its not gonna end like this now, it just can't!!! The

American Freebear, the most dangerous animal of the squared circle,

fightin' with tooth and claw and aerial warfare, going back to

wrestlin' the New Main Street Killaz after getting so far against

Derrick L. Ford... Its not fair to everyone who got involved in this

war and you guys know it!!!

[We quickly cut back to Maurice, who is now sitting in a black chair. He’s leaned back, taking full advantage of the comfort the wheels allow an occupant to endure. A smirk remains on his face.]

Thompson: Here at Westfund Inc. each agent takes pride in working with those who are dedicated to their career, dedicated to becoming the best in their field. _Never_ do the fine employees here at Westfund waste their time with such individuals that complain about their situation. Especially those that throw temper tantrums, when they have nobody other than themselves to be angry with. They definitely don’t represent individuals that find the following entertaining.

#The Following Is From Devil Wears Lycra#

["We fall, we fall" by Dead Celebrity Status

plays through the loudspeakers as the fans all stand in anticipation for the Hidatsu Warrior only to get... An obese cook with his face painted red pushing a Hibachi Bar-B-Que to the set! He's got a smug look on his face and even wears a feather-festooned apron which reads "Hibachi Warrior", something he shows off to all the booing fans.]

Freebear: Just like a Northerner to bring a Japanese bar-b-que to Freebear's Big Beef! You know what meat cooked in there tastes like?

"Maurice": UHG!!

Freebear: That's right! Listen "Hibatchi Warrior", nobody cares what injun tribe you come from or what kinda of fruity vision quest you've been on unless it's to know where you got all your dank! This is WRESTLING, and you're fighting the greatest, mightiest bear currently in competition, the only bear that flies!

"Maurice": UHG!!

Freebear: Looks like I'm ending up fighting the Indian covered in flies, but that's something else! Mo-reece, you can't fight, you sure as Hell can't fly and if it were up to me, I wouldn't even bother with you! As a wrestler, you're just... you're just...

"Maurice": UHG!!

[Maurice is now standing up, two female employees of Westfund Inc, walk away from him each with a clipboard cusp under their arms. Maurice shakes his head, his face clad with disbelief.]

Thompson: “Ugh?”

[Maurice looks to the side mouthing “Really?” before looking back at the camera.]

Thompson: That’s not even the entire story, nobody in this building would ever work with someone who would write the following…

[Maurice takes a piece of paper off the desk to his left. He holds it up with his right hand, his eyes fixed on the inscription.]

Thompson: I quote, "See, if only Maurice would've accepted my invitation to the Freebear's Big Beef, he'd be better fed and have the stamina necessary to hang with the American Freebear. You see he's starved. He's hungry. That's why he needs shorter matches, cuz nobody can hang with me after a massive breakfast! But I'm hungry too, you know? Hungry for destruction, for devastation!"

[Maurice raises his eyes from the paper to the camera, he quickly rolls them before looking back down.]

Thompson: I continue, “I hate you, goddamn Thompson. Constantly calling me a whiner while I put my friggin' CAREER on the line when I challenged Ford once more. Think I forgot that? I'm the guy that wrestled Drake Tungsten for thirty minutes straight, broadways don't mean nothin' to me. I'm taking my sweet time with you, asshole. I'll flatten you so hard, it won't be the Bear Force One that hits you, they'll call it the Bear Force Ten! You can't stop me Thompson, nobody can stop a bear that flies!"

[Maurice holds the paper up for the back to be visible by the camera. Someone has scribbled, “Free-beer Suxs” in poor handwriting, and obviously poor handwriting in effort to mock the DCWL Grand Champion.]

Thompson: Yeah…I don’t even have to respond to that. Freebear has made it quite obvious I was wrong for calling him “Crybear” or was that Julianne Moore?

[Maurice shrugs before placing the paper back down. He begins walking as the camera perfectly follows along in front of him.]

Thompson: Lets be honest for a moment, this has nothing to do with Westfund Inc, anything Freebear has to say, or anything I say. Unlike the DCWL Grand Champion, I refuse to allow my words to represent who I am. When the cameras are off I don’t spend my time here in LA patting myself on the back, telling myself I’m the greatest thing in the world….

When the cameras are off, I’m in the gym working with Jerry Horne, watching film with Lauren Jenkins, and learning more about you than you even know about yourself Freebear. I’m not coming into this match leaving anything to chance.

[Maurice passes a guy in a dark blue dress shirt and red tie, the two pound fists in stride. Maurice leans against a wall looking directly into the camera.]

Thompson: I have no problem beating you in two consecutive falls, I was trying to do you a favor by having or match being a single fall. You’ve signed your Championship away, and I have no problem taking it away from you and becoming the DCWL Grand Champion.

[As the word “Champion” escapes Thompson’s lips the scene switches off as it were an old television.]

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