Post by Thunder on Jan 15, 2020 22:29:51 GMT -5
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ťＨ!$ ¡ｓ ᗰ➂𝕃０𝕋я○𝐍 $ţ❹𝓷đ𝓘ηĞ_βý.
Pyro. Ballyhoo. More ballyhoo than you can shake a stick at. Shaking a stick is not recommended without your parents' permission.
Alecia Matthews: Welcome to Throwdown! It's the last stop before Survival of the Fittest, and we've got quite the show for you tonight.
Maxwell Dachs: A show that could only be improved with me wrestling on it. We've got a huge main event in Devilkiller and Destroyer, Thunder versus the elusive mystery opponent, and a lot more action.
Alecia Matthews: Speaking of the mystery opponent, let's head backstage to Kay Fabe, who is trying to stake out their arrival.
We cut backstage to the parking lot, where Kay Fabe is doing her best to pretend she's not wishing she had a better assignment.
Kay Fabe: I’m backstage here here in the parking lot. This limo has been idling here for a couple of minutes, with no sign of who is inside. We’re hoping it may be Thunder’s opponent tonight, who has remained a mystery.
The driver steps out of the front and opens the back door. Out walks . . . Thunder. He immediately walks past Kay Fabe, who pursues him.
Kay Fabe: Thunder, if you have a moment. We were looking for your opponent, but would you be able to talk about who that is now?
Thunder: He’s already arrived. And no. You’re just going to have to wait like everyone else.
Kay Fabe: No comment at all?
Agitated, Thunder finally stops walking.
Thunder: Here’s what I’ll say. Tonight is going be a big night and a big moment for me. This is a main event anywhere in the world. In fact, it’s so huge that I am demanding my match go on last tonight.
Kay Fabe: Don’t you think that’s a little unfair, given that you lost to Devilkiller?
Thunder: Don’t you think you should shut up?
Thunder storms off.
We go backstage to see Johnny Mason pacing back and forth in his locker room and he’s…talking to himself.
Johnny Mason: Jayson’s back….Jayson’s back…..it’s okay…..he’s not better than me……
Mason repeats the mantra over and over again until there’s a loud banging on his door.
Johnny Mason: Jayson’s back….Jayson’s back…..it’s okay…..he’s not better than me……
More pounding yet Mason’s in unfazed.
The pounding only gets louder.
Obnoxiously loud.
Mason is back to reality and answers the door, mumbling under his breath.
Johnny Mason: You came…..you actually came….
Cut to Tyson Watts, making his WFWF return, wearing a piercingly white suit.
Tyson Watts: You know it, baby! You know that I never listen to anyone but myself, right?
Watts makes himself at home in Mason’s locker room, despite Mason not wanting him in.
Johnny Mason: Why are you here?
The uninvited guest is on the couch with his feet up on the table with a grin from ear to ear.
Tyson Watts: You already forgot about our little convo convo? I want to help you, Johnny!
Johnny Mason: How can a never was and a never will help me? Tell me.
Watts giggles as he bounces off the couch, getting uncomfortably close to Mason.
Tyson Watts: I know you better than you think I do. In fact, you could say that you and I…..are one and the same.
Mason scoffs.
Johnny Mason: What the hell are you talking about?
Tyson Watts: I was once like you. Having big dreams of making it in this business but something always…got in the way of our success.
With me, it was my lost passion. For you, it was the kid.
Mason tenses up but Watts backs away, hiding his face from the camera.
Tyson Watts: But we both also have another thing in common…
Watts slowly turns around, his once giggly demeanor now hauntingly wicked.
Tyson Watts: We have that….killer instinct. Deep down inside our moral fabric….and it’s my job to help you find it…..
Johnny Mason watches on, sort of entranced.
Tyson Watts: You had high hopes of making it big here in the WFWF, did you? Losing back to back to back isn’t the way, Johnny.
Watts touches Mason’s stomach and runs his finger up his gut until he points to Mason’s heart….his hand then opens up, symbolizing an explosion.
Tyson Watts: That killer instinct….did something to you. It awoke that unnamed feeling….that feeling where all you see is blood…..and all you crave is blood….tonight, you go out there and you will spill blood, understand?
Mason nods his head, his breathing growing slower….and slower….
Johnny Mason: I will.
Suddenly….
Tyson Watts: Oh yes, baby! That’s the kind of sugar papa likes!
Johnny Mason makes his way towards the door but stops.
Johnny Mason: Aren’t you coming?
The returning face yawns, throwing himself on the couch again.
Tyson Watts: I just got off a 12-hour flight, I’m parched. Go on without me, just remember what we talked about.
The two stare at each other as Mason leaves the room, Watts grinning.
///𝐢 ᵖＲʘℂ➂รˢ ţн!$ 𝓜€𝔰ⓢᗩᎶ３ 𝐓ʘ ץѲＵ ➃$ äņ ❶ņţʳѲđū℃ţ❶ʘņ_/^〙〗〛】〙〗】】〛〗
äņ īņţгʘđū𝓬ţ➀Ѳņ_ ţѲ Ƥ４ī𝐍.
Oh, I'll never kill myself to save my soul
I was gone, but how was I to know?
I didn't come this far to sink so low
I'm finally holding on to letting go
I'll never kill myself to save my soul
I'm finally holding on to letting go
The song builds and builds, the vocals, drums and guitar until...
I'm finally holding on to letting go!!!
The banging of the drums are thick and the guitar rips through the speakers causing the arena to shake as the song continues to rip and shred, echoing into the sky.
Christa Adina: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introduced first; from Indianapolis, Indiana, weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds...Johnny Mason!
Alecia Matthews: Johnny Mason has undergone quite the transformation.
Maxwell Dachs: Sucks about his kid but I’m sorry – the guy is like vanilla ice cream: bland and no flavor.
Alecia Matthews: That really destroyed Mason’s psyche. He hasn’t been the same since.
Johnny Mason the steps out from the curtain with his hands on his waist. The black hoodie that he’s wearing hides his face and he seems to be taking his time as he walks down the ramp, head down.
Then, the arena goes black.
As the arena fills with smoke and ominous chants, The Father slowly makes his entrance, holding his arms out wide, and his head leaning up towards the heavens, before he lowers his arms and head and begins to walk down the ramp slowly, joined by whoever he has accompanying him to ringside following closely behind, making comments to fans that try and trash talk The Father, who doesn't pay attention to the comments, having his eyes closed and holding his bible close to him, as he rolls into the ring, Christa Adina makes her introduction.
Christa Adina: Currently in the ring, from Parts Unknown, weighing in at one hundred and ninety-three pounds, he is "The Father"...Luke Marshall!
As she makes the introduction, he slowly raises the bible over his head and lowers it as the introduction is finished, he hands the bible to The Judge at ringside, before then taking off his jacket and under shirt, revealing his body, which is covered in homemade tattoos of things like a crown on his chest, crosses on his upper arms, a portrait of a woman on his left forearm, the word "Faith" is underneath the portrait, his body and back are covered in self inflicted scars of the words "Sinner", "Sloth", "Greed", "Lust" and "Gluttony".
The two men come face to face in the center of the ring, Mason saying nothing, The Father, on the other hand, is all smiles, trying to talk to Mason about Bryce.
Mason, now enraged, starts laying into Father with lefts and rights!
Mason charges Father, pushing him into the corner and pummeling him with strikes, causing the referee to break it up because he hasn’t even rung the bell yet!
Maxwell Dachs: And there it is! Mason’s sore spot and the guy explodes!
As Mason gets pulled back and steps away, the referee calls for the match to begin!
DING! DING! DING!
Mason comes towards The Father, but he comes in with a clothesline from hell for a quick 1 count!
Alecia Matthews: These two made their debut on the same night and they faced off against one another in their debut match so it’s no surprise that these two are going back and forth!
Maxwell Dachs: Wasn’t there a third guy in their match?
Alecia Mattews: I don’t normally have brainfogs but….yeah, I can’t remember his name.
The Father, now in control, starts to work on the ribs of Mason, driving his knees into Masons ribs.
He picks Mason up and goes to hit a swinging neckbreaker on him, but the move is countered into a roll up for a close 2 count!
Mason tries to get the advantage back but Luke hits him with a series of strikes in the ribs, giving the advantage back to The Father.
Luke picks Mason up for an overhead Belly to Belly for another 1 count!
Alecia Matthews: Gotta admire the resiliency of both combatants! They know that a win here could propel one of them up the ranks!
Father goes to the corner and calls for Mason to get up, when he does Luke goes to hit a cyclone kick, but mason counters with a European uppercut!
The crowd groans!
Mason, now in control, hits Luke with a pumphandle backbreaker for a one count!
Mason then picks Luke up and shoots him off the ropes, hitting The Father with a stiff dropkick for a 2 count!
Mason quickly pick The Father up and goes to hit a brainbuster, which Father counters by going behind and lifting Mason up in an electric chair position, going to hit The True Gift…
But Mason counters with a devastating STO!
Alecia Matthews: OH MY GOD! Did you see Father’s head bounce off the mat?!
Maxwell Dachs: All I can say about that is…..holy shi-
Alecia Matthews: Don’t you dare!
Mason gets another two count!
He goes to a corner of the ring, calling for The Father to get to his feet, as he slowly does, Mason comes charging in, looking to hit the bicycle knee strike, but Father counters with another lariat that sends mason crashing to the mat!
The Father drops from exhaustion, and the ref starts the 10 count!
Alecia Matthews: I’m on the edge of my seat, Dachs!
So is the crowd as they await, eagerly to see who will be the first to their feet…
Maxwell Dachs: Whoever gets up first gets to be in control.
The referee counts down to 6...
7...
8...
Before both men are up and start trading forearm strikes...with Mason getting the upper hand again, driving the father back to the ropes, he shoots Luke off the ropes and hits a massive bicycle knee strike! Causing Luke to fall and land on the back of his neck/top of his back, Mason quickly covers him!
7...
8...
Before both men are up and start trading forearm strikes...with Mason getting the upper hand again, driving the father back to the ropes, he shoots Luke off the ropes and hits a massive bicycle knee strike! Causing Luke to fall and land on the back of his neck/top of his back, Mason quickly covers him!
1!
2!
3!
DING! DING! DING!
Christa Adina: Here is your winner.....Johnny Mason!
Alecia Matthews: Mason gets the win! A much needed win here for the grieving father.
Maxwell Dachs: I'll give the guy credit, he can work. Just needs some salt and pepper.
Johnny Mason refuses to get his arm raised by the official, shoving him aside to continue beating on Father.
Mason pounds and pounds away at Father's skull in attempt to turn it into ground beef....
Until The Judge climbs the apron.
Alecia Matthews: Oh boy...
Mason stops pulverizing Father to eye the massive man staring a hole right through his soul....
Until Mason bounces off the ropes, driving his knee right into The Judge's mask with a bicycle knee!
Maxwell Dachs: Down goes Judgy Wudgy!
Not really down, Judge land son his feet but is disoriented, allowing Mason to continue the brutal attack on his opponent, punching and stomping on Father's head!
The cameraman then picks up the all too familiar mantra of Mason:
Johnny Mason: Don’t you ever talk about my son again! Don’t you ever talk about my son again!
Mason grabs Father's hair and uses it to beat Father senseless! He pounds his face onto the mat, causing blood to pour from Father's nose.
The referee tries to separate Mason from his opponent but he get shoved to the mat.
The Judge stands on the apron and enters the ring in an attempt to save his brother but Mason slides under the ring and makes his way up the ramp....smirking.
Alecia Matthews: Mason just left The Father in a pool of his own blood....something I thought we'd never see.
Maxwell Dachs: Mason clearly made a statement tonight....in blood mwahahahahahaha!
Alecia Matthews: .......
Anyway, we'll be right back with the big contract signing for the main event of Survival of the Fittest. And hopefully I'll be joined by a funnier co-host at that time.
Alecia Matthews: Mason gets the win! A much needed win here for the grieving father.
Maxwell Dachs: I'll give the guy credit, he can work. Just needs some salt and pepper.
Johnny Mason refuses to get his arm raised by the official, shoving him aside to continue beating on Father.
Mason pounds and pounds away at Father's skull in attempt to turn it into ground beef....
Until The Judge climbs the apron.
Alecia Matthews: Oh boy...
Mason stops pulverizing Father to eye the massive man staring a hole right through his soul....
Until Mason bounces off the ropes, driving his knee right into The Judge's mask with a bicycle knee!
Maxwell Dachs: Down goes Judgy Wudgy!
Not really down, Judge land son his feet but is disoriented, allowing Mason to continue the brutal attack on his opponent, punching and stomping on Father's head!
The cameraman then picks up the all too familiar mantra of Mason:
Johnny Mason: Don’t you ever talk about my son again! Don’t you ever talk about my son again!
Mason grabs Father's hair and uses it to beat Father senseless! He pounds his face onto the mat, causing blood to pour from Father's nose.
The referee tries to separate Mason from his opponent but he get shoved to the mat.
The Judge stands on the apron and enters the ring in an attempt to save his brother but Mason slides under the ring and makes his way up the ramp....smirking.
Alecia Matthews: Mason just left The Father in a pool of his own blood....something I thought we'd never see.
Maxwell Dachs: Mason clearly made a statement tonight....in blood mwahahahahahaha!
Alecia Matthews: .......
Anyway, we'll be right back with the big contract signing for the main event of Survival of the Fittest. And hopefully I'll be joined by a funnier co-host at that time.
äņ īņţ𝓻Ѳđū𝓒ţ❶Ѳņ_ ţ０ ţℍ€ \/|０ĺ３ņţ ¡м➃ğ❸řý ０𝕗 _ⓗ𝓤爪４ņ £|３５Ⓗ 𝐛３īņğ 𝓡!Ⓟᵖ❸đ ä𝓟４řţ 乃ý äņ คřｍ¥ ʘƒ /\/\４《ｈ¡ņ❸ş.
_÷_𝓊 𝐦¡𝔾ᕼᵗ 𝕤@Ⓨ Ŧн❹Ⓣ Ⓘ ➃ｍ 𝒶 𝓶４ⓒн!𝓃３▪》
\\\\\\\\\°~°///////
Back from break to a shot of the ring; the ring mat covered by a plush red carpet, a table with a black velvet cloth on it, and two rather comfortable looking leather office chairs on either side; front and center is Lila Sleater in a slick black business suit with microphone in hand. She waits for her usual less than appreciative audience response to fade so that she can talk.
Lila Sleater: Well, you all know why we're here tonight. International Champion Frank Lynn has been 'lobbying' for a world title match for months which culminated in a violent close to his WFWF career at our last show. As much as I'd prefer to be waiting for Frank and his skanky manager Daphne to crawl out here begging for forgiveness after their actions against both me and Kris Kash, his contract protects him. So I'll have to let bygones be bygones. Instead, due to reconsideration by myself, Kris, and the Board of Directors, we've decided to grant Frank's request. And that's why we're here tonight. It's time to sign the contract for our main event at Survival of the Fittest, a World Championship match between Drakz and Frank Lynn!
The crowd explodes, anticipating the title match to come at Survival of the Fittest, as well as the usual post contract signing table breaking ceremony.
Alecia Matthews: The ring is ready for the two champions to meet face to face. It looks very nice, very 'official' for now... but how long will that last?
Maxwell Dachs: You're forgetting, we're not even sure if Drakz OR Frank Lynn will even show up. Drakz doesn't seem to care anymore, at least not until the bell rings, and Frank made a very emphatic exit last show that burned pretty much every bridge within a thousand miles.
Alecia Matthews: Drakz’ lack of interest lately is disturbing and Frank’s give me what I want or I walk attitude is equally disturbing. The faces of the company should actually want to be in the company.
Maxwell Dachs: And to think these are the two men Lila, Kris, and the Board are going all in on. Quite a risky proposition.
Alecia Matthews: It's not like they had much choice. Drakz and Frank are the champions, the record holders, and the top dogs of the WFWF. A one-on-one match was inevitable.
At Lila's cue, Frank Lynn's music hits. All eyes turn towards the entrance stage. It remains empty. After thirty seconds or so, the music fades and still no Frank Lynn.
Lila Sleater: Let's try that again.
Frank's music starts over from the top and plays for another minute or so but still no International Champion and number one contender appears on stage. A look of consternation appears on Lila's face as she has to deal with Frank Lynn making her look stupid for a second show in a row.
Lila Sleater: Sorry folks, looks like the International Champion isn't showing up. Let's get the World Heavyweight Champion out here and make Frank's forfeit official.
Drakz' music hits and the crowd's disappointment fades away as the champ appears on stage and smugly waves his WFWF World Heavyweight Title belt around for all to see and be jealous of. He slowly walks to the ring with a smarmy smile on his face. He enters the ring, snatches a microphone off the table, and addresses both Lila and the fans.
Drakz: Well humans.....
To the crowd.
Drakz: ......Reptiles......
To Lila.
Drakz: .....It appears the world's most weapony weapon isn't quite so lethal.
The crowd boos. He IS lethal, and they know it.
Drakz: I know, I know. I wanted to see me make him look a fool as well, but alas, once a bum always a bum.
He turns back to the ramp to indirectly address Frank.
Drakz: Come on Frankie, I thought this was what you were after?
He slaps the face of the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship.
Drakz: I thought you were dead set on taking my place? Honestly, after laying waste to Tugarin Zmey....
Alecia Matthews: Oh come on.
The crowd boo at this falsehood.
Drakz: ......after beating Zmey, there's not much in the way of competition left. So do me a favour won't you?
Lila absorbs what Drakz is saying and takes action, a rare occurrence for the usually impotent authority figure of the WFWF.
Lila Sleater: Last chance Frank. Come on down and sign the contract or your time in the WFWF is over!
For a third time "Anthem of the Space" blasts out of the arena speakers and once again all eyes turn towards the stage. Still no Frank Lynn.
Then a roar slowly builds from the cheap seats. A spotlight zooms in on a skybox showing that Frank Lynn and Daphne Velasquez have been here all along, sitting in private luxury watching the proceedings.
Frank Lynn: Sorry for the melodramatics but I wanted to be SURE both you and Drakz were here and there would be no backing out. If you'll give me a second, I'll be right down to join the two of you.
Frank and Daphne make their way to the ring walking through the crowd and exchanging high fives with the fans while they are serenaded by chants of 'Frank is gonna kill you!" Drakz chuckles, applauding the arrival, while Lila taps her fingers nervously on her microphone, oblivious to the fact that each tap resonates throughout the ring like a really loud and annoying metronome that refuses to keep time with the music. Frank and Daphne jump the barriers that separate the fans from the ring, circle the ring once giving Drakz a long hard stare, then finally enter the ring as the crowd reaches a fever pitch. Frank looks Lila squarely in the eyes.
Frank Lynn: Sure took you long enough to come to your senses. All I ever wanted was an opponent who would test my skills like no other in the WFWF. I wanted to test myself against the World Heavyweight Champion. I think I've earned that right over the past two years. Glad to see that you finally agree. Or someone made you agree. Doesn't matter to me how we got here, as long as we DID get here.
Frank snaps his head around and his eyes burn holes through Drakz.
Frank Lynn: Drakz, I didn't care who I faced for the title. Tugarin Zmey would have been a true test of my skills, no doubt about that. Certainly he would be a more noble opponent than a scumbag like you. But to be honest, I'm glad it's you Drakz. You are THE BEST, there's no denying that. If there is one thing you are good at it's winning. It's all you do. Until now! Not only is this a major step in my professional career that I want very badly, but also you've done things that make this personal... extremely personal in ways I doubt you are capable of understanding. I'll enjoy being the one who finally retires your @$$ and takes over the role of the 'constant' of the WFWF.
And with that, Frank grabs the pen from the table and quickly signs his name on the contract. Then he flips the contract around, slams the pen down on on it, steps back, and gestures for Drakz to do the same.
Drakz: You know Frank, all you had to do was ask. If you really wanted your head stoving in.....again, I was always ready and willing.
Drakz walks around the table to get right in Frank's face, holding his belt mere inches from Frank’s nose.
Frank Lynn: That was a different Frank Lynn, a green as grass rookie who had no idea what he was doing. I've changed. I've learned from the masters like Joshua Dean, Joe Bishop, Trace Demon, and David Brennan. I'm ready for you now. Don't forget, you're not the only champion going into this match!
Drakz counts on his fingers.
Drakz: Joshua Dean. Beat him. Trace Demon. Beat him. David Brennan. Beat him a few times. Joe Bishop. Sadly I never got the chance, but I can't see him as the exception to the rule.
Frank inches even closer to Drakz and holds his belt up so close that it clangs against Drakz's. The tension builds as everyone anticipates the contract signing coming to the usual violent conclusion.
Drakz: How about we make this a little spicier? Seeing as you've now surpassed my "official"...
Drakz throws his title onto his shoulder and with his free hand makes air quotes.
Drakz: .....title reign record, how about you put your f*cking b*llocks where your mouth is? Drakz vs. Lynn. Title vs. title. Let's see if you deserve that accolade?
Before Frank can reply, Lila squeezes in between them.
Lila Sleater: Need I remind you that I still book the matches and the stipulations? No way are we having another David f'n Brennan situation. The winner of this match will not walk away with BOTH belts...
Drakz and Frank Lynn simultaneously glare at Lila and interrupt her.
PISS OFF!
A stunned Lila backs away, discretion being the better part of valor as she definitely doesn't want to be knocked out cold again.
Frank Lynn: Something we can finally agree on. Title for title? You think that scares me? Intimidates me? HELL NO! I've never backed away from a challenge and I'm not starting now.
Drakz grins.
Drakz: Wonderful.
Frank Lynn: Drakz versus Frank Lynn at Survival of the Fittest for all the freakin' marbles. If I can't beat you for that title (Frank points at the World Heavyweight Championship belt) then I don't deserve to keep this one (Frank pats the International Championship belt).
The tension mounts once again as Drakz and Frank have a long silent stare down, each one waiting for the other to make a move. Then Drakz flicks Frank's nose with his finger before walking back to the table to sign his name and make the match truly official.
Drakz: I hope you know what you just signed up for Frankie. I don't give a f*ck anymore. You say you're not the same Frank Lynn I wrestled all those years back? I say you've never wrestled a man like the me that stands before you today.
Frank Lynn: At the risk of sounding VERY cliché: don't sing it, BRING IT! You would never pass the torch voluntarily so I will take it from you at Survival of the Fittest!
Drakz looks legitimately sick at that 1980s punchline, but the crowd seemed to love it.
Frank and Daphne exit through the crowd leaving Drakz alone with Lila in the ring, something that tips him over the gross threshold and he too makes a quick and more traditional exit up the ramp.
Alecia Matthews: It’s official folks. The main event at Survival of the Fittest will be Drakz versus Frank Lynn in a title versus title match!
Maxwell Dachs: Frank has come a long way from the Golden Opportunity Ladder match that Ante Whitner stole from me, but has he come far enough to not only challenge but BEAT the best this business has ever seen?
Alecia Matthews: It will be an uphill climb for Frank but these two already surprised us once. The table survived contract signing intact! The closest thing we saw to any violence between these two was a finger flick to the nose.
Maxwell Dachs: Both men are obviously saving themselves for their match. The two of them at one hundred per cent is a very scary proposition. All the young bloods in the locker room need to take notice. Two ring savvy veterans are about to show them how it is done.
Alecia Matthews: It's going to be hard to follow that, but we'll be right back with a lot more action.
Lila Sleater: Well, you all know why we're here tonight. International Champion Frank Lynn has been 'lobbying' for a world title match for months which culminated in a violent close to his WFWF career at our last show. As much as I'd prefer to be waiting for Frank and his skanky manager Daphne to crawl out here begging for forgiveness after their actions against both me and Kris Kash, his contract protects him. So I'll have to let bygones be bygones. Instead, due to reconsideration by myself, Kris, and the Board of Directors, we've decided to grant Frank's request. And that's why we're here tonight. It's time to sign the contract for our main event at Survival of the Fittest, a World Championship match between Drakz and Frank Lynn!
The crowd explodes, anticipating the title match to come at Survival of the Fittest, as well as the usual post contract signing table breaking ceremony.
Alecia Matthews: The ring is ready for the two champions to meet face to face. It looks very nice, very 'official' for now... but how long will that last?
Maxwell Dachs: You're forgetting, we're not even sure if Drakz OR Frank Lynn will even show up. Drakz doesn't seem to care anymore, at least not until the bell rings, and Frank made a very emphatic exit last show that burned pretty much every bridge within a thousand miles.
Alecia Matthews: Drakz’ lack of interest lately is disturbing and Frank’s give me what I want or I walk attitude is equally disturbing. The faces of the company should actually want to be in the company.
Maxwell Dachs: And to think these are the two men Lila, Kris, and the Board are going all in on. Quite a risky proposition.
Alecia Matthews: It's not like they had much choice. Drakz and Frank are the champions, the record holders, and the top dogs of the WFWF. A one-on-one match was inevitable.
At Lila's cue, Frank Lynn's music hits. All eyes turn towards the entrance stage. It remains empty. After thirty seconds or so, the music fades and still no Frank Lynn.
Lila Sleater: Let's try that again.
Frank's music starts over from the top and plays for another minute or so but still no International Champion and number one contender appears on stage. A look of consternation appears on Lila's face as she has to deal with Frank Lynn making her look stupid for a second show in a row.
Lila Sleater: Sorry folks, looks like the International Champion isn't showing up. Let's get the World Heavyweight Champion out here and make Frank's forfeit official.
Drakz' music hits and the crowd's disappointment fades away as the champ appears on stage and smugly waves his WFWF World Heavyweight Title belt around for all to see and be jealous of. He slowly walks to the ring with a smarmy smile on his face. He enters the ring, snatches a microphone off the table, and addresses both Lila and the fans.
Drakz: Well humans.....
To the crowd.
Drakz: ......Reptiles......
To Lila.
Drakz: .....It appears the world's most weapony weapon isn't quite so lethal.
The crowd boos. He IS lethal, and they know it.
Drakz: I know, I know. I wanted to see me make him look a fool as well, but alas, once a bum always a bum.
He turns back to the ramp to indirectly address Frank.
Drakz: Come on Frankie, I thought this was what you were after?
He slaps the face of the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship.
Drakz: I thought you were dead set on taking my place? Honestly, after laying waste to Tugarin Zmey....
Alecia Matthews: Oh come on.
The crowd boo at this falsehood.
Drakz: ......after beating Zmey, there's not much in the way of competition left. So do me a favour won't you?
Lila absorbs what Drakz is saying and takes action, a rare occurrence for the usually impotent authority figure of the WFWF.
Lila Sleater: Last chance Frank. Come on down and sign the contract or your time in the WFWF is over!
For a third time "Anthem of the Space" blasts out of the arena speakers and once again all eyes turn towards the stage. Still no Frank Lynn.
Then a roar slowly builds from the cheap seats. A spotlight zooms in on a skybox showing that Frank Lynn and Daphne Velasquez have been here all along, sitting in private luxury watching the proceedings.
Frank Lynn: Sorry for the melodramatics but I wanted to be SURE both you and Drakz were here and there would be no backing out. If you'll give me a second, I'll be right down to join the two of you.
Frank and Daphne make their way to the ring walking through the crowd and exchanging high fives with the fans while they are serenaded by chants of 'Frank is gonna kill you!" Drakz chuckles, applauding the arrival, while Lila taps her fingers nervously on her microphone, oblivious to the fact that each tap resonates throughout the ring like a really loud and annoying metronome that refuses to keep time with the music. Frank and Daphne jump the barriers that separate the fans from the ring, circle the ring once giving Drakz a long hard stare, then finally enter the ring as the crowd reaches a fever pitch. Frank looks Lila squarely in the eyes.
Frank Lynn: Sure took you long enough to come to your senses. All I ever wanted was an opponent who would test my skills like no other in the WFWF. I wanted to test myself against the World Heavyweight Champion. I think I've earned that right over the past two years. Glad to see that you finally agree. Or someone made you agree. Doesn't matter to me how we got here, as long as we DID get here.
Frank snaps his head around and his eyes burn holes through Drakz.
Frank Lynn: Drakz, I didn't care who I faced for the title. Tugarin Zmey would have been a true test of my skills, no doubt about that. Certainly he would be a more noble opponent than a scumbag like you. But to be honest, I'm glad it's you Drakz. You are THE BEST, there's no denying that. If there is one thing you are good at it's winning. It's all you do. Until now! Not only is this a major step in my professional career that I want very badly, but also you've done things that make this personal... extremely personal in ways I doubt you are capable of understanding. I'll enjoy being the one who finally retires your @$$ and takes over the role of the 'constant' of the WFWF.
And with that, Frank grabs the pen from the table and quickly signs his name on the contract. Then he flips the contract around, slams the pen down on on it, steps back, and gestures for Drakz to do the same.
Drakz: You know Frank, all you had to do was ask. If you really wanted your head stoving in.....again, I was always ready and willing.
Drakz walks around the table to get right in Frank's face, holding his belt mere inches from Frank’s nose.
Frank Lynn: That was a different Frank Lynn, a green as grass rookie who had no idea what he was doing. I've changed. I've learned from the masters like Joshua Dean, Joe Bishop, Trace Demon, and David Brennan. I'm ready for you now. Don't forget, you're not the only champion going into this match!
Drakz counts on his fingers.
Drakz: Joshua Dean. Beat him. Trace Demon. Beat him. David Brennan. Beat him a few times. Joe Bishop. Sadly I never got the chance, but I can't see him as the exception to the rule.
Frank inches even closer to Drakz and holds his belt up so close that it clangs against Drakz's. The tension builds as everyone anticipates the contract signing coming to the usual violent conclusion.
Drakz: How about we make this a little spicier? Seeing as you've now surpassed my "official"...
Drakz throws his title onto his shoulder and with his free hand makes air quotes.
Drakz: .....title reign record, how about you put your f*cking b*llocks where your mouth is? Drakz vs. Lynn. Title vs. title. Let's see if you deserve that accolade?
Before Frank can reply, Lila squeezes in between them.
Lila Sleater: Need I remind you that I still book the matches and the stipulations? No way are we having another David f'n Brennan situation. The winner of this match will not walk away with BOTH belts...
Drakz and Frank Lynn simultaneously glare at Lila and interrupt her.
PISS OFF!
A stunned Lila backs away, discretion being the better part of valor as she definitely doesn't want to be knocked out cold again.
Frank Lynn: Something we can finally agree on. Title for title? You think that scares me? Intimidates me? HELL NO! I've never backed away from a challenge and I'm not starting now.
Drakz grins.
Drakz: Wonderful.
Frank Lynn: Drakz versus Frank Lynn at Survival of the Fittest for all the freakin' marbles. If I can't beat you for that title (Frank points at the World Heavyweight Championship belt) then I don't deserve to keep this one (Frank pats the International Championship belt).
The tension mounts once again as Drakz and Frank have a long silent stare down, each one waiting for the other to make a move. Then Drakz flicks Frank's nose with his finger before walking back to the table to sign his name and make the match truly official.
Drakz: I hope you know what you just signed up for Frankie. I don't give a f*ck anymore. You say you're not the same Frank Lynn I wrestled all those years back? I say you've never wrestled a man like the me that stands before you today.
Frank Lynn: At the risk of sounding VERY cliché: don't sing it, BRING IT! You would never pass the torch voluntarily so I will take it from you at Survival of the Fittest!
Drakz looks legitimately sick at that 1980s punchline, but the crowd seemed to love it.
Frank and Daphne exit through the crowd leaving Drakz alone with Lila in the ring, something that tips him over the gross threshold and he too makes a quick and more traditional exit up the ramp.
Alecia Matthews: It’s official folks. The main event at Survival of the Fittest will be Drakz versus Frank Lynn in a title versus title match!
Maxwell Dachs: Frank has come a long way from the Golden Opportunity Ladder match that Ante Whitner stole from me, but has he come far enough to not only challenge but BEAT the best this business has ever seen?
Alecia Matthews: It will be an uphill climb for Frank but these two already surprised us once. The table survived contract signing intact! The closest thing we saw to any violence between these two was a finger flick to the nose.
Maxwell Dachs: Both men are obviously saving themselves for their match. The two of them at one hundred per cent is a very scary proposition. All the young bloods in the locker room need to take notice. Two ring savvy veterans are about to show them how it is done.
Alecia Matthews: It's going to be hard to follow that, but we'll be right back with a lot more action.
