POISON is sitting in a long dark hallway, with a towel draped over his head. He sits intently waiting for his music to begin playing, but it never does. He sits in the hallway for what seems like hours. Time flies by as the masked man just sits and stews.
BUMP!
POISON snaps out of it, but he’s now in a wrestling ring with his gear on and the towel draped on his head. His trainer yells at him!
”Are you stupid!? TAKE A BUMP!”
He scurries and takes the bump, but this time it feels a bit strange. He gets up to his feet never taking his eye of his trainer.
”Take a bump!”
He drops to the mat again.
BLAM!
He wakes up in a small bed. The feel is familiar to him.
“Where is he!?”
A shuffling is heard from the hallway, the door bursts open. POISON hides under the cover, but the covers are ripped away from him. A man with work overalls is standing over the bed, with ‘Anders’ written on his nametag.
Anders grabs him by the scruff of the neck, and drags him out of the bed room and sits him infront of the television.
“You’re gonna sit hear and watch this until I get home! Don’t be a hassle for your mother.”
The man Anders who towers over him, reeks of beer. He looks like he’s had a couple already.
“I’m swamped at work, and don’t need you and your bull..”
BUMP!
POISON snaps out of it, and he’s back in the boxing ring. He takes a perfect bump but this time, he can’t get up.
He struggles and struggles but cannot seem to have the strength. It feels like someone is pushing him down.
“POISON is down for the count…”
1
..
…
2
..
…
3!
“Here is your winner, “The Janitor” Billy Broom!”
Fans are jumping onto the apron of the boxing ring and shaking the ropes in excitement.
“Billy Broom has done the unbelievable… He has beat POISON…. Clean 1..2..3!”
“He has made sure that the WFWF universe realize that POISON, never had any reason being in the WFWF.”
POISON tries to push himself up, but is stuck to the mat.
“Billy Broom has also just proved that no matter who you are! You can be a winner. You don’t have to earn your spot, you can just hop on the momentum of an up an comer, and still be a winner!”
“Broom has done the unthinkable, comes out of retirement after all the meaningless, tedious and boring janitor has dried up…. and he won!”
The fans get dead quiet and stare directly at POISON, who is still struggling to get up to his feet.
“POISON proved that no matter how hard you try, you end up failing. It’s like in life, no matter how hard you try to have a good life, you end up dying.”
“Being honest right now, I think this is all pointless. Billy Broom and POISON just had a match, but in 30 years…. Who’s gonna remember it? You see what I’m saying?”
“POISON, how do you feel knowing we are all gonna die?”
POISON stops struggling, and thinks for a couple of seconds.
BLAM!
Back to the living room, in front of the television set. His trainer puts in a DVD and sits down in Ander’s chair.
“POISON what do you know about Billy Broom?”
“He’s a janitor, a drunk and father… Last two I know real well.”
A hand comes out of nowhere and smacks POISON square in the face.
“DON’T SPEAK ABOUT ME LIKE THAT!”
POISON is rattled and looks around, but no one is around except his trainer.
“POISON stay with me, stop blanking out. You were in a match with him once before. Watch the screen.”
POISON stares at the screen, as if he was fully envisioning himself in the match again.
”You had good chemistry in the ring, you were made for fighting each other.”
“But! You made a mistake, like the idiot you are and then this happens.”
"You got taken out by a chair, remember how that felt?"
"You gotta inflict that feeling on every opponent, but specially Billy Broom. Years of working with cleaning chemicals, probably has rotted his brain in some capacity."
“We have changed the training technique and the style you use. Let’s demonstrate how we would use it.”
The trainer gets up from his chair, and smacks POISON on the top of the head.
“Get up!”
POISON gets to his feet, and him and his trainer lock up. The older man quickly grabs POISON in a headlock.
“Pretend I’m Billy Broom! Defend!”
The trainer begins to gouge POISON’s eyes. POISON doesn’t know what to do and lifts the oldman into the air and drives him down onto the hardwood floor in the living room.
The oldman doesn’t let go of the headlock.
“I know why you don’t like Billy Broom…”
POISON gets up to his feet, still in the headlock. He lifts the oldman up again.
“He reminds you of someone! Reminds you of someone close…”
POISON drops the oldman to living room floor again, but he is still holding the headlock and it’s getting tighter.
The oldman lets go of the headlock, and pins POISON to the floor.
“You beat him at Scars and Stripes, you beat your father. Admit it!”
“ADMIT IT!”
The oldman brings POISON up to his feet, and grabs him by the shirt. He gets a running start and throws POISON through the living room window. The grass goes away, and the earth is one big sinkhole. EVERYTHING IS DARK AND ENDLESS IN THE SINKHOLE.
“Beat him, beat your father!”
POISON is screaming for help, but is just helplessly falling.
Headbutt from Billy!
Headbutt from Mondo!
Knife edge chop by Billy!
Knife edge chop by Mondo!
POISON sees a light coming from below, he’s getting close to his destination!
“Beat him, beat your father!”
POISON is about to hit what ever is casting such light, and then…..
BLAM!
POISON wakes up, and he’s sitting on a folding chair in the gym. He lets out a big scream, alerting everyone in the gym.
The trainer waddles over.
“Are you okay!? What are you screaming about!?”
“Uh-.. Sorry I had a bad dream of some sort.”
“Well… It’s okay, don’t let it get in the way of training. You’ve been building up good momentum lately, and we need to capitalize on it.”
“I know sir, I always do my best.”
“Yeah but your best is nothing for these corporate heads. Back in my day, you could sell out arenas with a knee drop.”
POISON nods his head to agree with his trainer.
“You need to go to the airport now, I’ve got our flights booked for five..”
“Alright anything else?”
“Yeah…”
“Beat Him, Beat Your Father!”