Post by Jonny Fly on May 2, 2013 15:52:12 GMT -5
“The Great Jonny Fly”
The previous words are spoken over a black screen. That blackness begins to dissolve away and our scene takes hold. It’s night time, and the scene is dim. We can see Jonny Fly in the middle of the screen. The WCF CEO has just turned around in the direction that the words were spoken. The camera scans out and we can notice now that we’re in a New York City alley way. The silhouette of a man has emerged and steps out of the shadows toward Fly.
“It’s good to see you…again.”
Fly cocks his head in confusion and steps toward the man to try to gain a better visual.
Fly: Do I know you?
“The name is Lonnie. Lonnie Childress. I used to work for you, in a sense.”
Fly: Do you wrestle?
Lonnie steps forward just enough that we catch the side of his face, illuminated just enough by a faint street light in the distance. This man’s face is badly scarred, with a nearly quarter inch cut running diagonal from his jaw almost all the way into his eye. Fly looks at the scar momentarily before nodding his head, understanding immediately.
Fly: Not a wrestler. I must know you from my former…side occupation.
Lonnie: I pushed for The Organization about a year ago. Until you left. You closed up shop, never even with an explanation.
Fly steps forward in a confrontational manner. He towers over his much smaller antagonist, and speaks sternly.
Fly: Did you feel I owed you that, son?
Lonnie shakes his head furiously.
Lonnie: No, no, quite the opposite. I felt we owed you. That’s why The Organization never ceased operations.
Fly takes a step back, almost in shock at the previous statement.
Fly: Explain.
Lonnie: It’s hard to close up a syndicate as big as ours overnight. Sure, some left, but most of us had nowhere to go. This is who we are. No offense, but we can’t just crawl back to a successful wrestling career. We just kept going. Some guys like me; we got bigger roles, and began helping keep this thing alive and growing.
Fly: I can’t have this conversation with you. I’m sorry.
Fly turns to walk back down the alley, but Lonnie reaches out and grabs him.
Lonnie: We need you back, Jonny.
Fly stands motionless, his back turned to Lonnie. He hangs his head. Part of him says that he’s left that life behind and to keep walking. The other part, tells him to turn around and learn more about the New York City criminal organization that he took over in early 2012 and how it’s fared in his absence.
We flash back to last week. Jonny Fly lies on his couch, Alicia Morales standing behind him.
Fly: “Some things you just can’t control.”
Back in the alley, Fly turns around, smiling as wide as he’s ever smiled before.
Fly: I’d like to see the operation. Take me there.
Lonnie: I was hoping you would say that. I can take you there now, assuming you weren’t on the way to something important?
Fly looks down the alley toward where he was heading.
Fly: Nothing too important. Let’s go.
Our scene moves down the alley in the direction of Fly’s gaze. About a block down the alley opens up onto a larger street. Standing on the corner is Alicia Morales outside of a club, staring in the direction that Fly would be coming from. She looks at her watch and sighs. He’s late. He won’t be coming. The scene slowly closes.
[End Scene]
[Begin Scene]
Our scene has resumed with Jonny Fly and Lonnie exiting a car at a warehouse just outside the city limits. The warehouse borders the harbor and upon exiting the passenger side of the car, Fly takes a moment to stare across at Manhattan, illuminated in the moonlight. When he was in charge of The Organization, this was HIS city. Fly’s power extended into all corners, and his influence was felt on all political levels. Complete power, it’s always been a sweet temptation of ‘The Dynasty.’ Lonnie moves toward the entrance and opens the door.
Lonnie: Are you coming?
Fly snaps out of his trance and begins walking to the door.
Fly: Right behind you.
The two men enter the warehouse on the ground floor. Inside we see crates upon crates upon crates on the ground, and nearly twenty workers busily prepping these crates for shipment to various pushers in various boroughs of the city. Fly takes a moment to scan the two story warehouse, clearly the hub of The Organization’s drug sales. The ground floor is completely open and serves essentially as storage and loading for product. There is a second floor that consists of a catwalk bordering the rectangular warehouse; however, there does seem to be one room on the second floor against the back wall. It’s surrounded in a glass encasement. Fly points toward the glass.
Fly: What’s up there?
Lonnie: I’ll show you. Follow me.
Lonnie heads to a staircase on the right hand side of the warehouse. Fly follows to the second story catwalk and the two men walk to the back of the warehouse toward the glass room. As we get closer we can see a desk set up in the room and an individual sitting behind the desk. Lonnie walks all the way up to the door and knocks once. The man behind the desk looks up, smiles, and gets up and walks toward the door. He opens it and ushers Fly and Lonnie inside.
Man: Please, come inside. I can’t believe ‘ole Lonnie actually got you to come.
Fly: Who are you?
Man: Frank Ross. I guess you can say I kind of run this whole thing right now. Pleasure to meet you, Jonny. Well, we’ve before, but you probably don’t remember that. Anyway, have a seat.
Fly is motioned toward a couch on the left hand side of the room. Fly and Lonnie take a seat on the couch, while Frank takes one of the chairs across from his desk and brings it over to the couch for himself.
Frank: Oh, where is my hospitality. Would you like a drink?
Fly: Well, since you’re offering. I'll take whatever you have.
Frank nods and gets up and walks behind his desk. He reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a handle of Jack Daniels and three glasses. He pours the drinks, taking a suspiciously long time pouring one of them, and returns. He hands Fly and Lonnie a drink and sits back down.
Frank: I suppose now that you’ve seen the operation, you have questions.
Fly: How did you do this?
Frank: Jonny, I’m going to be painfully honest with you. You deserting this organization was the best thing that ever happened to it. You were hot, feds, local police, everyone was after you. When you went clean the heat was taken off each and every one of us. We’ve been able to operate in the shadows once again. You know this business, that’s the best place to be. Unseen, unheard, and completely off the radar of anyone who is anyone.
Fly: Right. So, why do you need me back?
Frank takes a large gulp from his drink. He wipes his mouth and continues.
Frank: We have problems that I don’t have the…skills…to solve.
Fly nods his head, fully understanding.
Fly: Jack Ridder knows, doesn’t he?
Surprised, Frank nods his head very slowly.
Frank: You’re very sharp, Jonny. Very sharp.
Fly finishes his drink and puts his hand over his eyes momentarily. The Ridder Family has been a thorn in Jonny Fly’s side for nearly a decade. They are the reason he spent four years in witness protection. Just last year with Fly bearing down on him, Jack Ridder, the elder statesmen, betrayed his own son and appointed Fly as the leader of the family’s criminal organization, named simply “The Organization.” We haven’t heard of Jack Ridder since Fly swore off his criminal past. Fly lifts his head as Frank continues.
Frank: Once he found out we were still operating, as you could imagine, he wasn’t very happy. Jack isn’t the type of guy you want as an enemy, you know that. That’s where you come in.
Fly shakes his head.
Fly: I…can’t. Look, I’m not upset over what you’re doing here. You guys are trying to make a living, I get it. However, my deal was Jack is that he gets a cut of every dime The Organization made. If you haven’t been giving him his cut, that’s on you. You owe him a lot of money. I’m out of this.
Frank gets up from his chair and walks over to his desk and sets his drink down. Lonnie gets up from the couch and joins Frank standing by the desk.
Frank: Jonny, it’s just not that simple. You don’t fully grasp this situation. I may or may not have told ‘ole Jack that you were in fact still running things, and that your recent foray into wrestling was merely a rouse to keep the feds at bay. He seems to think it’s you that owe him 10% of what we’ve made over the last year. That’s a cool thirty million. You wouldn’t happen to have that lying around, would you?
Fly’s eyes show immediate concern.
Fly: You didn’t…
Frank: It was my only choice. Surely you can appreciate…
With a sudden explosion of rage Fly violently throws his glass in the direction of Frank, narrowly missing him. The glass explodes against the side of his desk as Fly gets to his feet.
Fly: You two are dead…
Fly begins to walk toward Frank and stops suddenly. There is confusion in his eyes and he shakes his head. His vision blurs and his legs give out. He looks up as Frank approaches holding a small tube in his hand.
Frank: Sorry, Jonny. You’ll wake up soon enough.
Fly passes out. He’s been drugged. Our scene goes black.
[Scene Ends]
[Scene Begins]
Jonny Fly charges through a fairy tale-esque enchanted forest from giant bouncy mushroom to giant bouncy mushroom with the grace and poise of a…fuckin’….I don’t know, actually. Anyway, holstered to the side of his pants is a marshmallow shooter that retails for $9.97 at Wall Mart. Yeah, shit just got real. As Fly makes his next jump he quickly grabs the gun and shoots a marshmallow at something in the distance. He stops behind a tree and quickly peeks around it; marshmallow gun poised for combat, but sees nothing. He quickly scampers to another tree closer to whoever our mystery antagonist may be. Fly peers out, nothing. He moves again…
HALT!
Dammit. He’s caught.
Drop your weapon Mister Fly!
Marshmallow shooter dropped. Fly is defenseless. He turns slowly to meet his foe. Behold! It’s the gloriously triumphant return of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln is looking all classic 1800’s in his black trousers, black vest, black frock coat, and stunning super-black top hat. He’s holding a slingshot with both hands and has a rock cocked back and ready to whip at Fly’s forehead at a moment’s notice.
Fly: You, sir, are a tricky motherfucker to hunt down.
Abe: You’re no John Wilkes Booth, Fly. Get over it.
Fly: Yeah, you’re right.
Abe: What do you want with me?
Fly: I heard you hunt wizards.
What? Seriously, what?
Abe: It’s true. Pop culture has it all wrong. I didn’t hunt vampires, I hunt wizards. Do you need to procure my services?
Fly: I was thinking tag-team. I’m hunting Odin Balfore, the biggest wizard of them all. Would you care to join me on my quest?
Abe: Sure!
Fly: By the way, what’s with that sling shot?
Abe: You’re hunting a wizard and you don’t know how to kill them?
Fly: I thought it was…marshmallows.
That makes sense, right? No? Fuck it.
Abe: Rocks, my dear boy, rocks to the forehead and they explode. Also, take their wand. That seems to be effective.
Fly: Son of a bitch, I’ve been sabotaged! Brad Kane told me I could only kill a wizard with a marshmallow shooter. Man, I don’t know why he’s out to get me. He’s probably still mad about this whole Seth Lerch thing. I honestly don’t get it, Abe. Does that man not see all the things that Seth has done to him over his career? How in the world is he pro-Seth?
Abe: I…have no idea what you’re talking about. However, if you would like to send a subliminal message to the REAL Mr. Kane, I suggest using a wizard. Once we find one, of course.
Fly: Wait, what do you mean by the real Brad Kane? Is this not real?
Abe: Jonny…what year is it?
Fly: 2013.
Abe: What year was I President?
Fly: Like…I don’t know, 1860’s?
Abe: Does that make sense to you?
Fly: If you’re not real, then explain why you were at that KKK rally a few weeks ago!
Abe: You were dreaming then, just like you are now.
Fly: Dammit! Whatever. Come on, let’s go find Odin.
Fly reaches down and grabs his marshmallow shooter, for whatever reason, and begins following Abraham Lincoln, Wizard Hunter, through the forest. Lincoln moves briskly not bothering to disguise himself because, let’s face it, the dude is dressed head to toe in black. Unless it’s dark out, he’s not disguising himself. Poor guy has to be hot running around in all those clothes. Anyway, eventually we see a small castle in the distance and Abe motions Fly forward.
Abe: That’s got to be Odin’s lair…wait, is it a lair if you’re a wizard?
Fly: Fuck if I know, bro.
Abe: Did you just call the 16th President of the United States bro?
Fly: I don’t remember.
Abe shrugs and slowly approaches the castle. Suddenly, from the tower comes a bolt of lightning that strikes the tree right in front of Abraham Lincoln and Jonny Fly. Odin Balfore has spotted movement in the distance.
Odin: Who goes there!?
Fly whispers to Abraham Lincoln.
Fly: Tell him you’re lost and looking for Brad Kane.
Abe: What?
Fly pushes Lincoln forward into the clearing. Odin is confused beyond mythological belief.
Odin: Is that…Abraham Lincoln? What the fuck? Nice hat, jobber.
Abe: Hey, what’s wrong with my hat!?
Odin: That style is older than…me…and I’m a wizard! Why are you here?
Abe: I’m looking for Brad Kane…I guess.
Odin: He’s playing house on the other side of the forest with his 18 kids. I think he’s currently training them as an army to overthrow Pantheon. What do you want with him?
Abe: Oh…uh, we’re old friends. I freed his ancestors.
Odin: I don’t need to be a wizard to know that Brad Kane is white, dumbass.
Abe: Yeah, people thought the same thing about Corey Black.
Odin: …
Abe: Black’s ancestors derived their family name because they were…
Odin: Black?
Abe: Bingo! Also, I need you to use to wizard powers to send a subliminal message to real-life Brad Kane enlightening him as to just how many times Seth Lerch has wronged him over the years.
Odin: That’s weird, but sure, that seems like it’ll cause chaos. I’m good for that.
Odin yells out some random spell and then shoots his wand in the air. Yeah, I don’t know either, but just accept that that’s how wizard Balfore does spells. Brad Kane should be considered enlightened.
Odin: So, hey, when you were coming through the forest you didn’t by any chance see Ana Valentine, did you?
Abe: No, why?
Odin: Man, Abe, shit is fucked up. I put a spell on her to be addicted to sex with big dudes. Come to find out she’s been getting with Buzzsaw Bundy and not me! I’m sexy, god dammit, but all the little wizard bitches want that dorky ass Harry Twatter!
Abe: Tough break, bro. Shit, I just called a wizard bro…
Wherever he is, Jonny Fly is smiling.
Odin: Not only that, but in real life I have to team with that crazy motherfucker Oblivion and housesitter Brad Kane against Jonny Fly, Corey Black, and Jeff Purse. Six-man tag match? Nope, I’m not even trying to show up. Hell, I told them I only leave my wizard lair to wrestle at PPV’s!
Ah, so it is called a lair. Now we know. Fly has heard enough. He steps forward into the clearing. As a default response, Odin raises his wand to strike down his longtime rival. Fly raises his…marshmallow shooter.
Odin: What the hell is that?
Fly: Make a move and you’ll find out, motherfucker.
Odin: Wait a second, what is going on here?
Fly: We’re wizard hunting.
Odin: Oh, I was hoping you came to pay me the $100,000 you owe.
Fly: Uh, no. We came to kill you.
Odin: But…why?
Fly: Trying to win the Trios Cup. I got cockblocked by three big dicks last year. Shit sucked.
Odin: I see.
Using his wizard skills, Odin grabs a broom and flies down from his guard tower. He approaches Fly and Abraham Lincoln, towering over them in all his mighty god-like Norse glory.
Odin: So, how does this go down? Looks like you got a marshmallow shooter there, Fly. Do you have the balls to shoot me with it?
Yes, he does. Fly pulls the trigger and sends a white puff ball of sugary goodness right into Balfore’s face. Balfore stumbles back, he’s about to fall when….
Odin: HAHAHA!
He doesn’t fall. It didn’t hurt him at all. It was a marshmallow and he’s like ten foot tall. He’s laughing at all of you for thinking that would work. Balfore takes out his wand and flicks it, sending Fly, well, flying backward into a tree. Fly slumps to the ground, stunned. Abraham Lincoln springs into action and delivers a spinning heel kick into Balfore’s hand, sending his wand to the ground. Balfore quickly tries to retrieve it, but Abe sends a stiff side kick to his knee, forcing him to the ground. As Abe approaches, Odin responds by flailing his forearm in the direction of Lincoln’s head, missing just barely. Lincoln takes a few steps back and waits for Balfore to get back to his feet. As Balfore rises, Lincoln nails a jumping kung fu kick to his head. Balfore stumbles around allowing Lincoln time to bring out his slingshot. He sends a single rock into Balfore’s forehead and Odin explodes into millions of pieces that immediately burn up and turn to ash. Also, Fly is back.
Fly: Good work Abe. You just jobber killed a wizard.
Abe: An honest day’s work for an honest man.
Fly: This has been fun, but I feel myself beginning to wake up. I was in quite the predicament when I went to sleep, so I better go deal with that.
Abe: Well, I guess I’ll see you next time you’re dreaming.
Fly: I look forward to it.
With that, this imaginary scene consisting of a deceased president hunting an imaginary wizard played by a real-fake wrestler comes to a close.
[Scene Ends]
[Scene Begins]
It’s a bumpy ride when in you’re tied up in the trunk of a car that’s zooming around the busy New York City streets. That is the current predicament of one Jonny Fly. We’re not able to get his take on this situation because there’s duct tape over his mouth, not to mention his feet and hands have been tied. Rude, I tell you, just plain rude. After another couple of minutes of Fly soaking up every. single. bump. in the road, the car he is in comes to a stop. A few seconds later the trunk is opened. Awake now, Fly stares up at Frank Ross and Lonnie Childress.
Frank: Good, you’re awake. Bring him out, Lonnie.
Lonnie reaches into the trunk and brings Fly out and stands him on his feet. It’s already daylight, and with our first chance to look around we notice some very familiar surroundings; large white house with a marble façade, circular driveway with a large fountain the middle of it, candy apple red Jaguar XK parked by the front door. This is Jonny Fly’s mansion. In fact, there is only one thing that seems out of place. There’s a black Ford Expedition parked behind Fly’s car. Lonnie pushes Fly in the direction of the Expedition with Frank right behind him. About halfway, Lonnie grabs Fly and forces him to stand still.
Lonnie: There’s an old friend who would like to see you, Jonny.
With that, Lonnie rips the tape of Fly’s mouth.
Fly: I want you to know that car ride ruined a perfectly good dream.
Lonnie: Yeah, yeah, whatever.
The front driver’s door to the Expedition opens and a very, very large man steps out. He opens up the back door and emerging from the backseat is none other than Jack Ridder. Forever smug, the godfather of The Organization takes a long look at Fly. The history of these two men dates back almost as long as Fly has been a professional wrestler. Now, today, it appears that problems have begun anew. Still standing by his car, Jack Ridder speaks.
Ridder: Jonny Fly. I wish I could say it’s good to see you.
Fly stays silent.
Ridder: I’m not sure what part of our long history together made you think of me as a fool, but it’s obvious that’s how you feel. That hurts. I thought we were past all of this. I should have known better.
Finally, Fly looks at Ridder. He’s nearly 70 years old, weathered from a lifetime of deceit and crime. There is no list long enough to write out all the things this man’s hands have done, or been involved with. His connections have gone has high as the Director of the FBI. Those connections, along with his resources and persistence have cost Fly YEARS of his wrestling career. Ridder flares his nostrils and takes off his black trenchcoat and hands it to the man he’s with. Jack walks and comes face to face with Fly.
Ridder: You just can’t help but to be a pain the fuckin’ ass for everyone, can you? It’s no surprise your parents abandoned you. It’s no surprise you’re old friends are all dead. What is a surprise is that the person responsible for some of those things, you CONTINUE to fuck with.
Without breaking eyesight, Fly responds.
Fly: You’re being played, Jack, and it’s not by me.
Ridder shrugs his shoulders and turns away from Fly. He paces back and forth looking down at the ground, before fixing his eyesight back on Jonny Fly.
Ridder: I suppose you’re going to say that you’re not involved anymore with The Organization, right? That you didn’t know it was still operating. You didn’t know all the leases were still in your name. You didn’t know it was your name still being signed on all the checks. The dealers on the street, the girls, the guys in the gambling operation, they all were lying when they told me to_my_face that Jonny Fly is the man who hired them.
This can’t be happening. Not again. Fly hangs his head.
Ridder: I just want what’s owed to me, what we agreed upon. This can be that simple.
Fly takes in a deep sigh and raises his head. He stands tall and responds.
Fly: Jack, I owe you nothing. I dissolved this organization one year ago. That’s the truth. Apparently, some people didn’t get the memo.
Fly half turns toward Lonnie and Frank to illustrate his point.
Fly: The three of you can work out your problems without me. My hands are clean here, I’d like to go on my way.
Ridder: Oh, you’ll be allowed to go on your way…
Lonnie cuts the rope restraining Fly’s arms and pushes him away.
Ridder: ...but I’ll be back here in 10 days. With more men, a lot more men, and this will get ugly. You owe me 30 million dollars, Jonny. For once in your miserable life, it’s time to pay your debt. 10 days.
With that, Jack Ridder retreats back to his car. Once both men are back inside, the car drives off. Frank steps forward in front of Fly.
Frank: This was my only choice. It was either this, or watch Jack destroy The Organization. Now that he’s focused on you, we’ll be able to operate the way we want. In the shadows, off everybody’s radar, including his. It has to be like this.
Fly: You’re a fool. I’m not paying him. When he doesn’t get the money from me, where do you think he’s going to turn?
Frank: What I think…is that he’s going to kill you regardless of whether you can up with the money. Finally, I suppose. I also suppose that the person who brought you to him, he’ll be just fine. Once you are out of the way, I’ll have legitimate control over The Organization and all of his resources at my disposal. I’ll be seeing you Jonny…or maybe not…whatever.
Frank turns and begins to walk back toward his car.
Fly: Frank…
Frank turns back to Fly.
Fly: I’m going to say this once, and I advise you to remember this for however short of a time we’re both on this earth together. I’m Jonny Fly. I’m everlasting, indestructible, hell, I may be borderline immortal. Using me as a patsy for your problems, beyond idiotic. Ask around. Ask your men, ask Jack himself…you might as well turn the gun on yourself right now and get it over with. You’ve crossed the wrong motherfucker, and you’re as good as dead because of it.
Frank’s face becomes one of intense hatred. Without saying another word, he turns his back to Fly and enters his car. Lonnie follows and the two men drive off leaving Fly, still bound at the legs, in the driveway. Fly stares at the car as it exits his property and the scene comes to a close.
[Scene Ends]
[Begin Scene]
The scene fades in. All that we can see on the camera is the face of Jonny Fly, as if he has just turned the camera on himself. Fly steps back from the lens and begins to speak.
Fly: It’s already time for the Trios Cup, I see.
This last year has gone by quickly. During this tournament last year I began teaming with Polar Phantasm and Nightmare, a team that would form the foundation of what is now Pantheon. We lost in what I would consider an under-the-radar contender for match of the year. The WAR match, Ultimate Showdown, the One Main Event’s, those are always great matches. Those are easy ones to call. That match, though, it wasn’t even a PPV Main Event. In fact, it wasn’t the Main Event of Slam that night. Still, that match would essentially determine who would win the Trios Cup, and my team lost.
There’s pain in those words as Fly speaks them.
Now a year later, Pantheon is still going strong and once again has a team in the Trios Cup. Simply put, we’re not going to lose this time. The competition is different. There are fewer teams, and none of them are as strong top to bottom as Jeff Purse, Corey Black, and Jonny Fly. It’s true that this tournament brings out the best in some wrestlers, for example Kira Sakazaki. That’s not going to matter. In honor of Polar Phantasm, we will be eating pudding out of that fuckin’ cup when this tournament is over and done with it. You can call that a guarantee.
Fly pauses for a second, before shifting gears.
Up first is the team of Brad Kane, Odin Balfore, and Oblivion. A match-up hand delivered by Seth Lerch. Sorry Seth, while those three are perhaps the…second…best team in the entire tournament, they’re not Pantheon. I’ve beaten Oblivion more times than I can remember. Literally, I think I need two hands to count the number of matches that the two of us have been involved, all of which I’ve won. Every time I’ve been in the ring with Odin Balfore, same result. Whether it was clusterfuck match, tag match, singles match, Ultimate Showdown, it’s never mattered. Isn’t that right, Odin?
Now, add in a little Corey Black, who Odin and Oblivion also can’t beat, and Jeff Purse, a man who is coming back to the ring with vengeance…albeit a little misplaced vengeance, but no matter…and this match starts to look very predictable. “Oh, but Jonny, none of you seem to be getting along.” Look, my problems with Jeff Purse are strictly personal. I disagree with the way he’s carrying on. He’s a fuckin’ BOARD MEMBER of this organization hell bent on vengeance from one his employees without a shred of proof to back himself up. Ask yourself, what CEO, manager, leader, or anyone, who would allow that to happen on their watch? Yeah, exactly.
Jeff needs to understand this is what we signed up for when we took control of WCF. We’re held to a higher standard and it’s my job to enforce that…even with friends. WCF isn’t an old boys club anyone, that’s one of the things Pantheon was created to destroy. There’s no Seth Lerch running around doing whatever his buddies Gravedigger and Logan want him to do. Inside the ring though, as I proved with Corey Black, I can put these differences aside. Black and I are on good terms now. We’ve worked out our problems. We’re the tag-team champions and have been teaming together for a while. We know how to get shit done, and obviously Purse is one of the best in the business. Let me make this clear, there will be no Pantheon dysfunction in this tournament. None. We’re rolling through this shit.
Fly pauses for a moment to catch his breath, before continuing.
I’ve left Brad Kane for last. Kane is a Hall of Famer and if you listen to him, he’s really, really good. He also has some big problems with yours truly. At this point, who doesn’t? I. Don’t. Care. Look, I’ve done nothing to Kane for him to create all this drama. As I’ve mentioned, I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to use my name, position, and notoriety to enhance his own profile. I don’t have time to be bothered with shit like that. I found out a long time ago that the majority of Hall of Famers in WCF just can’t cut it anymore. Now don’t go crazy Brad, I’m not saying you never could or didn’t contribute to the success of this company. I’m not taking your cookies, buddy. I’m merely stating a fact, which is that it’s 2013. It’s the Era of Jonny Fly and the Era of Pantheon, and you don’t have a seat at the table. You’re not ‘hot shit’ anymore. This company does not live or die off of the success of one, Bradley Kane. Those days are long gone.
Kane, Odin, and Oblvion. All former World Champions. All well known to the masses. All successful in their own different way. However, watch closely because these three are an example. For all that those individuals may be, the power and strength and Pantheon will dominate this match and dominate the rest of the tournament.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some pudding to go buy.
Fly moves forward and clicks the camera off, ending the scene.
[Scene Ends]
The previous words are spoken over a black screen. That blackness begins to dissolve away and our scene takes hold. It’s night time, and the scene is dim. We can see Jonny Fly in the middle of the screen. The WCF CEO has just turned around in the direction that the words were spoken. The camera scans out and we can notice now that we’re in a New York City alley way. The silhouette of a man has emerged and steps out of the shadows toward Fly.
“It’s good to see you…again.”
Fly cocks his head in confusion and steps toward the man to try to gain a better visual.
Fly: Do I know you?
“The name is Lonnie. Lonnie Childress. I used to work for you, in a sense.”
Fly: Do you wrestle?
Lonnie steps forward just enough that we catch the side of his face, illuminated just enough by a faint street light in the distance. This man’s face is badly scarred, with a nearly quarter inch cut running diagonal from his jaw almost all the way into his eye. Fly looks at the scar momentarily before nodding his head, understanding immediately.
Fly: Not a wrestler. I must know you from my former…side occupation.
Lonnie: I pushed for The Organization about a year ago. Until you left. You closed up shop, never even with an explanation.
Fly steps forward in a confrontational manner. He towers over his much smaller antagonist, and speaks sternly.
Fly: Did you feel I owed you that, son?
Lonnie shakes his head furiously.
Lonnie: No, no, quite the opposite. I felt we owed you. That’s why The Organization never ceased operations.
Fly takes a step back, almost in shock at the previous statement.
Fly: Explain.
Lonnie: It’s hard to close up a syndicate as big as ours overnight. Sure, some left, but most of us had nowhere to go. This is who we are. No offense, but we can’t just crawl back to a successful wrestling career. We just kept going. Some guys like me; we got bigger roles, and began helping keep this thing alive and growing.
Fly: I can’t have this conversation with you. I’m sorry.
Fly turns to walk back down the alley, but Lonnie reaches out and grabs him.
Lonnie: We need you back, Jonny.
Fly stands motionless, his back turned to Lonnie. He hangs his head. Part of him says that he’s left that life behind and to keep walking. The other part, tells him to turn around and learn more about the New York City criminal organization that he took over in early 2012 and how it’s fared in his absence.
We flash back to last week. Jonny Fly lies on his couch, Alicia Morales standing behind him.
Fly: “Some things you just can’t control.”
Back in the alley, Fly turns around, smiling as wide as he’s ever smiled before.
Fly: I’d like to see the operation. Take me there.
Lonnie: I was hoping you would say that. I can take you there now, assuming you weren’t on the way to something important?
Fly looks down the alley toward where he was heading.
Fly: Nothing too important. Let’s go.
Our scene moves down the alley in the direction of Fly’s gaze. About a block down the alley opens up onto a larger street. Standing on the corner is Alicia Morales outside of a club, staring in the direction that Fly would be coming from. She looks at her watch and sighs. He’s late. He won’t be coming. The scene slowly closes.
[End Scene]
[Begin Scene]
Our scene has resumed with Jonny Fly and Lonnie exiting a car at a warehouse just outside the city limits. The warehouse borders the harbor and upon exiting the passenger side of the car, Fly takes a moment to stare across at Manhattan, illuminated in the moonlight. When he was in charge of The Organization, this was HIS city. Fly’s power extended into all corners, and his influence was felt on all political levels. Complete power, it’s always been a sweet temptation of ‘The Dynasty.’ Lonnie moves toward the entrance and opens the door.
Lonnie: Are you coming?
Fly snaps out of his trance and begins walking to the door.
Fly: Right behind you.
The two men enter the warehouse on the ground floor. Inside we see crates upon crates upon crates on the ground, and nearly twenty workers busily prepping these crates for shipment to various pushers in various boroughs of the city. Fly takes a moment to scan the two story warehouse, clearly the hub of The Organization’s drug sales. The ground floor is completely open and serves essentially as storage and loading for product. There is a second floor that consists of a catwalk bordering the rectangular warehouse; however, there does seem to be one room on the second floor against the back wall. It’s surrounded in a glass encasement. Fly points toward the glass.
Fly: What’s up there?
Lonnie: I’ll show you. Follow me.
Lonnie heads to a staircase on the right hand side of the warehouse. Fly follows to the second story catwalk and the two men walk to the back of the warehouse toward the glass room. As we get closer we can see a desk set up in the room and an individual sitting behind the desk. Lonnie walks all the way up to the door and knocks once. The man behind the desk looks up, smiles, and gets up and walks toward the door. He opens it and ushers Fly and Lonnie inside.
Man: Please, come inside. I can’t believe ‘ole Lonnie actually got you to come.
Fly: Who are you?
Man: Frank Ross. I guess you can say I kind of run this whole thing right now. Pleasure to meet you, Jonny. Well, we’ve before, but you probably don’t remember that. Anyway, have a seat.
Fly is motioned toward a couch on the left hand side of the room. Fly and Lonnie take a seat on the couch, while Frank takes one of the chairs across from his desk and brings it over to the couch for himself.
Frank: Oh, where is my hospitality. Would you like a drink?
Fly: Well, since you’re offering. I'll take whatever you have.
Frank nods and gets up and walks behind his desk. He reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a handle of Jack Daniels and three glasses. He pours the drinks, taking a suspiciously long time pouring one of them, and returns. He hands Fly and Lonnie a drink and sits back down.
Frank: I suppose now that you’ve seen the operation, you have questions.
Fly: How did you do this?
Frank: Jonny, I’m going to be painfully honest with you. You deserting this organization was the best thing that ever happened to it. You were hot, feds, local police, everyone was after you. When you went clean the heat was taken off each and every one of us. We’ve been able to operate in the shadows once again. You know this business, that’s the best place to be. Unseen, unheard, and completely off the radar of anyone who is anyone.
Fly: Right. So, why do you need me back?
Frank takes a large gulp from his drink. He wipes his mouth and continues.
Frank: We have problems that I don’t have the…skills…to solve.
Fly nods his head, fully understanding.
Fly: Jack Ridder knows, doesn’t he?
Surprised, Frank nods his head very slowly.
Frank: You’re very sharp, Jonny. Very sharp.
Fly finishes his drink and puts his hand over his eyes momentarily. The Ridder Family has been a thorn in Jonny Fly’s side for nearly a decade. They are the reason he spent four years in witness protection. Just last year with Fly bearing down on him, Jack Ridder, the elder statesmen, betrayed his own son and appointed Fly as the leader of the family’s criminal organization, named simply “The Organization.” We haven’t heard of Jack Ridder since Fly swore off his criminal past. Fly lifts his head as Frank continues.
Frank: Once he found out we were still operating, as you could imagine, he wasn’t very happy. Jack isn’t the type of guy you want as an enemy, you know that. That’s where you come in.
Fly shakes his head.
Fly: I…can’t. Look, I’m not upset over what you’re doing here. You guys are trying to make a living, I get it. However, my deal was Jack is that he gets a cut of every dime The Organization made. If you haven’t been giving him his cut, that’s on you. You owe him a lot of money. I’m out of this.
Frank gets up from his chair and walks over to his desk and sets his drink down. Lonnie gets up from the couch and joins Frank standing by the desk.
Frank: Jonny, it’s just not that simple. You don’t fully grasp this situation. I may or may not have told ‘ole Jack that you were in fact still running things, and that your recent foray into wrestling was merely a rouse to keep the feds at bay. He seems to think it’s you that owe him 10% of what we’ve made over the last year. That’s a cool thirty million. You wouldn’t happen to have that lying around, would you?
Fly’s eyes show immediate concern.
Fly: You didn’t…
Frank: It was my only choice. Surely you can appreciate…
With a sudden explosion of rage Fly violently throws his glass in the direction of Frank, narrowly missing him. The glass explodes against the side of his desk as Fly gets to his feet.
Fly: You two are dead…
Fly begins to walk toward Frank and stops suddenly. There is confusion in his eyes and he shakes his head. His vision blurs and his legs give out. He looks up as Frank approaches holding a small tube in his hand.
Frank: Sorry, Jonny. You’ll wake up soon enough.
Fly passes out. He’s been drugged. Our scene goes black.
[Scene Ends]
[Scene Begins]
Jonny Fly charges through a fairy tale-esque enchanted forest from giant bouncy mushroom to giant bouncy mushroom with the grace and poise of a…fuckin’….I don’t know, actually. Anyway, holstered to the side of his pants is a marshmallow shooter that retails for $9.97 at Wall Mart. Yeah, shit just got real. As Fly makes his next jump he quickly grabs the gun and shoots a marshmallow at something in the distance. He stops behind a tree and quickly peeks around it; marshmallow gun poised for combat, but sees nothing. He quickly scampers to another tree closer to whoever our mystery antagonist may be. Fly peers out, nothing. He moves again…
HALT!
Dammit. He’s caught.
Drop your weapon Mister Fly!
Marshmallow shooter dropped. Fly is defenseless. He turns slowly to meet his foe. Behold! It’s the gloriously triumphant return of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln is looking all classic 1800’s in his black trousers, black vest, black frock coat, and stunning super-black top hat. He’s holding a slingshot with both hands and has a rock cocked back and ready to whip at Fly’s forehead at a moment’s notice.
Fly: You, sir, are a tricky motherfucker to hunt down.
Abe: You’re no John Wilkes Booth, Fly. Get over it.
Fly: Yeah, you’re right.
Abe: What do you want with me?
Fly: I heard you hunt wizards.
What? Seriously, what?
Abe: It’s true. Pop culture has it all wrong. I didn’t hunt vampires, I hunt wizards. Do you need to procure my services?
Fly: I was thinking tag-team. I’m hunting Odin Balfore, the biggest wizard of them all. Would you care to join me on my quest?
Abe: Sure!
Fly: By the way, what’s with that sling shot?
Abe: You’re hunting a wizard and you don’t know how to kill them?
Fly: I thought it was…marshmallows.
That makes sense, right? No? Fuck it.
Abe: Rocks, my dear boy, rocks to the forehead and they explode. Also, take their wand. That seems to be effective.
Fly: Son of a bitch, I’ve been sabotaged! Brad Kane told me I could only kill a wizard with a marshmallow shooter. Man, I don’t know why he’s out to get me. He’s probably still mad about this whole Seth Lerch thing. I honestly don’t get it, Abe. Does that man not see all the things that Seth has done to him over his career? How in the world is he pro-Seth?
Abe: I…have no idea what you’re talking about. However, if you would like to send a subliminal message to the REAL Mr. Kane, I suggest using a wizard. Once we find one, of course.
Fly: Wait, what do you mean by the real Brad Kane? Is this not real?
Abe: Jonny…what year is it?
Fly: 2013.
Abe: What year was I President?
Fly: Like…I don’t know, 1860’s?
Abe: Does that make sense to you?
Fly: If you’re not real, then explain why you were at that KKK rally a few weeks ago!
Abe: You were dreaming then, just like you are now.
Fly: Dammit! Whatever. Come on, let’s go find Odin.
Fly reaches down and grabs his marshmallow shooter, for whatever reason, and begins following Abraham Lincoln, Wizard Hunter, through the forest. Lincoln moves briskly not bothering to disguise himself because, let’s face it, the dude is dressed head to toe in black. Unless it’s dark out, he’s not disguising himself. Poor guy has to be hot running around in all those clothes. Anyway, eventually we see a small castle in the distance and Abe motions Fly forward.
Abe: That’s got to be Odin’s lair…wait, is it a lair if you’re a wizard?
Fly: Fuck if I know, bro.
Abe: Did you just call the 16th President of the United States bro?
Fly: I don’t remember.
Abe shrugs and slowly approaches the castle. Suddenly, from the tower comes a bolt of lightning that strikes the tree right in front of Abraham Lincoln and Jonny Fly. Odin Balfore has spotted movement in the distance.
Odin: Who goes there!?
Fly whispers to Abraham Lincoln.
Fly: Tell him you’re lost and looking for Brad Kane.
Abe: What?
Fly pushes Lincoln forward into the clearing. Odin is confused beyond mythological belief.
Odin: Is that…Abraham Lincoln? What the fuck? Nice hat, jobber.
Abe: Hey, what’s wrong with my hat!?
Odin: That style is older than…me…and I’m a wizard! Why are you here?
Abe: I’m looking for Brad Kane…I guess.
Odin: He’s playing house on the other side of the forest with his 18 kids. I think he’s currently training them as an army to overthrow Pantheon. What do you want with him?
Abe: Oh…uh, we’re old friends. I freed his ancestors.
Odin: I don’t need to be a wizard to know that Brad Kane is white, dumbass.
Abe: Yeah, people thought the same thing about Corey Black.
Odin: …
Abe: Black’s ancestors derived their family name because they were…
Odin: Black?
Abe: Bingo! Also, I need you to use to wizard powers to send a subliminal message to real-life Brad Kane enlightening him as to just how many times Seth Lerch has wronged him over the years.
Odin: That’s weird, but sure, that seems like it’ll cause chaos. I’m good for that.
Odin yells out some random spell and then shoots his wand in the air. Yeah, I don’t know either, but just accept that that’s how wizard Balfore does spells. Brad Kane should be considered enlightened.
Odin: So, hey, when you were coming through the forest you didn’t by any chance see Ana Valentine, did you?
Abe: No, why?
Odin: Man, Abe, shit is fucked up. I put a spell on her to be addicted to sex with big dudes. Come to find out she’s been getting with Buzzsaw Bundy and not me! I’m sexy, god dammit, but all the little wizard bitches want that dorky ass Harry Twatter!
Abe: Tough break, bro. Shit, I just called a wizard bro…
Wherever he is, Jonny Fly is smiling.
Odin: Not only that, but in real life I have to team with that crazy motherfucker Oblivion and housesitter Brad Kane against Jonny Fly, Corey Black, and Jeff Purse. Six-man tag match? Nope, I’m not even trying to show up. Hell, I told them I only leave my wizard lair to wrestle at PPV’s!
Ah, so it is called a lair. Now we know. Fly has heard enough. He steps forward into the clearing. As a default response, Odin raises his wand to strike down his longtime rival. Fly raises his…marshmallow shooter.
Odin: What the hell is that?
Fly: Make a move and you’ll find out, motherfucker.
Odin: Wait a second, what is going on here?
Fly: We’re wizard hunting.
Odin: Oh, I was hoping you came to pay me the $100,000 you owe.
Fly: Uh, no. We came to kill you.
Odin: But…why?
Fly: Trying to win the Trios Cup. I got cockblocked by three big dicks last year. Shit sucked.
Odin: I see.
Using his wizard skills, Odin grabs a broom and flies down from his guard tower. He approaches Fly and Abraham Lincoln, towering over them in all his mighty god-like Norse glory.
Odin: So, how does this go down? Looks like you got a marshmallow shooter there, Fly. Do you have the balls to shoot me with it?
Yes, he does. Fly pulls the trigger and sends a white puff ball of sugary goodness right into Balfore’s face. Balfore stumbles back, he’s about to fall when….
Odin: HAHAHA!
He doesn’t fall. It didn’t hurt him at all. It was a marshmallow and he’s like ten foot tall. He’s laughing at all of you for thinking that would work. Balfore takes out his wand and flicks it, sending Fly, well, flying backward into a tree. Fly slumps to the ground, stunned. Abraham Lincoln springs into action and delivers a spinning heel kick into Balfore’s hand, sending his wand to the ground. Balfore quickly tries to retrieve it, but Abe sends a stiff side kick to his knee, forcing him to the ground. As Abe approaches, Odin responds by flailing his forearm in the direction of Lincoln’s head, missing just barely. Lincoln takes a few steps back and waits for Balfore to get back to his feet. As Balfore rises, Lincoln nails a jumping kung fu kick to his head. Balfore stumbles around allowing Lincoln time to bring out his slingshot. He sends a single rock into Balfore’s forehead and Odin explodes into millions of pieces that immediately burn up and turn to ash. Also, Fly is back.
Fly: Good work Abe. You just jobber killed a wizard.
Abe: An honest day’s work for an honest man.
Fly: This has been fun, but I feel myself beginning to wake up. I was in quite the predicament when I went to sleep, so I better go deal with that.
Abe: Well, I guess I’ll see you next time you’re dreaming.
Fly: I look forward to it.
With that, this imaginary scene consisting of a deceased president hunting an imaginary wizard played by a real-fake wrestler comes to a close.
[Scene Ends]
[Scene Begins]
It’s a bumpy ride when in you’re tied up in the trunk of a car that’s zooming around the busy New York City streets. That is the current predicament of one Jonny Fly. We’re not able to get his take on this situation because there’s duct tape over his mouth, not to mention his feet and hands have been tied. Rude, I tell you, just plain rude. After another couple of minutes of Fly soaking up every. single. bump. in the road, the car he is in comes to a stop. A few seconds later the trunk is opened. Awake now, Fly stares up at Frank Ross and Lonnie Childress.
Frank: Good, you’re awake. Bring him out, Lonnie.
Lonnie reaches into the trunk and brings Fly out and stands him on his feet. It’s already daylight, and with our first chance to look around we notice some very familiar surroundings; large white house with a marble façade, circular driveway with a large fountain the middle of it, candy apple red Jaguar XK parked by the front door. This is Jonny Fly’s mansion. In fact, there is only one thing that seems out of place. There’s a black Ford Expedition parked behind Fly’s car. Lonnie pushes Fly in the direction of the Expedition with Frank right behind him. About halfway, Lonnie grabs Fly and forces him to stand still.
Lonnie: There’s an old friend who would like to see you, Jonny.
With that, Lonnie rips the tape of Fly’s mouth.
Fly: I want you to know that car ride ruined a perfectly good dream.
Lonnie: Yeah, yeah, whatever.
The front driver’s door to the Expedition opens and a very, very large man steps out. He opens up the back door and emerging from the backseat is none other than Jack Ridder. Forever smug, the godfather of The Organization takes a long look at Fly. The history of these two men dates back almost as long as Fly has been a professional wrestler. Now, today, it appears that problems have begun anew. Still standing by his car, Jack Ridder speaks.
Ridder: Jonny Fly. I wish I could say it’s good to see you.
Fly stays silent.
Ridder: I’m not sure what part of our long history together made you think of me as a fool, but it’s obvious that’s how you feel. That hurts. I thought we were past all of this. I should have known better.
Finally, Fly looks at Ridder. He’s nearly 70 years old, weathered from a lifetime of deceit and crime. There is no list long enough to write out all the things this man’s hands have done, or been involved with. His connections have gone has high as the Director of the FBI. Those connections, along with his resources and persistence have cost Fly YEARS of his wrestling career. Ridder flares his nostrils and takes off his black trenchcoat and hands it to the man he’s with. Jack walks and comes face to face with Fly.
Ridder: You just can’t help but to be a pain the fuckin’ ass for everyone, can you? It’s no surprise your parents abandoned you. It’s no surprise you’re old friends are all dead. What is a surprise is that the person responsible for some of those things, you CONTINUE to fuck with.
Without breaking eyesight, Fly responds.
Fly: You’re being played, Jack, and it’s not by me.
Ridder shrugs his shoulders and turns away from Fly. He paces back and forth looking down at the ground, before fixing his eyesight back on Jonny Fly.
Ridder: I suppose you’re going to say that you’re not involved anymore with The Organization, right? That you didn’t know it was still operating. You didn’t know all the leases were still in your name. You didn’t know it was your name still being signed on all the checks. The dealers on the street, the girls, the guys in the gambling operation, they all were lying when they told me to_my_face that Jonny Fly is the man who hired them.
This can’t be happening. Not again. Fly hangs his head.
Ridder: I just want what’s owed to me, what we agreed upon. This can be that simple.
Fly takes in a deep sigh and raises his head. He stands tall and responds.
Fly: Jack, I owe you nothing. I dissolved this organization one year ago. That’s the truth. Apparently, some people didn’t get the memo.
Fly half turns toward Lonnie and Frank to illustrate his point.
Fly: The three of you can work out your problems without me. My hands are clean here, I’d like to go on my way.
Ridder: Oh, you’ll be allowed to go on your way…
Lonnie cuts the rope restraining Fly’s arms and pushes him away.
Ridder: ...but I’ll be back here in 10 days. With more men, a lot more men, and this will get ugly. You owe me 30 million dollars, Jonny. For once in your miserable life, it’s time to pay your debt. 10 days.
With that, Jack Ridder retreats back to his car. Once both men are back inside, the car drives off. Frank steps forward in front of Fly.
Frank: This was my only choice. It was either this, or watch Jack destroy The Organization. Now that he’s focused on you, we’ll be able to operate the way we want. In the shadows, off everybody’s radar, including his. It has to be like this.
Fly: You’re a fool. I’m not paying him. When he doesn’t get the money from me, where do you think he’s going to turn?
Frank: What I think…is that he’s going to kill you regardless of whether you can up with the money. Finally, I suppose. I also suppose that the person who brought you to him, he’ll be just fine. Once you are out of the way, I’ll have legitimate control over The Organization and all of his resources at my disposal. I’ll be seeing you Jonny…or maybe not…whatever.
Frank turns and begins to walk back toward his car.
Fly: Frank…
Frank turns back to Fly.
Fly: I’m going to say this once, and I advise you to remember this for however short of a time we’re both on this earth together. I’m Jonny Fly. I’m everlasting, indestructible, hell, I may be borderline immortal. Using me as a patsy for your problems, beyond idiotic. Ask around. Ask your men, ask Jack himself…you might as well turn the gun on yourself right now and get it over with. You’ve crossed the wrong motherfucker, and you’re as good as dead because of it.
Frank’s face becomes one of intense hatred. Without saying another word, he turns his back to Fly and enters his car. Lonnie follows and the two men drive off leaving Fly, still bound at the legs, in the driveway. Fly stares at the car as it exits his property and the scene comes to a close.
[Scene Ends]
[Begin Scene]
The scene fades in. All that we can see on the camera is the face of Jonny Fly, as if he has just turned the camera on himself. Fly steps back from the lens and begins to speak.
Fly: It’s already time for the Trios Cup, I see.
This last year has gone by quickly. During this tournament last year I began teaming with Polar Phantasm and Nightmare, a team that would form the foundation of what is now Pantheon. We lost in what I would consider an under-the-radar contender for match of the year. The WAR match, Ultimate Showdown, the One Main Event’s, those are always great matches. Those are easy ones to call. That match, though, it wasn’t even a PPV Main Event. In fact, it wasn’t the Main Event of Slam that night. Still, that match would essentially determine who would win the Trios Cup, and my team lost.
There’s pain in those words as Fly speaks them.
Now a year later, Pantheon is still going strong and once again has a team in the Trios Cup. Simply put, we’re not going to lose this time. The competition is different. There are fewer teams, and none of them are as strong top to bottom as Jeff Purse, Corey Black, and Jonny Fly. It’s true that this tournament brings out the best in some wrestlers, for example Kira Sakazaki. That’s not going to matter. In honor of Polar Phantasm, we will be eating pudding out of that fuckin’ cup when this tournament is over and done with it. You can call that a guarantee.
Fly pauses for a second, before shifting gears.
Up first is the team of Brad Kane, Odin Balfore, and Oblivion. A match-up hand delivered by Seth Lerch. Sorry Seth, while those three are perhaps the…second…best team in the entire tournament, they’re not Pantheon. I’ve beaten Oblivion more times than I can remember. Literally, I think I need two hands to count the number of matches that the two of us have been involved, all of which I’ve won. Every time I’ve been in the ring with Odin Balfore, same result. Whether it was clusterfuck match, tag match, singles match, Ultimate Showdown, it’s never mattered. Isn’t that right, Odin?
Now, add in a little Corey Black, who Odin and Oblivion also can’t beat, and Jeff Purse, a man who is coming back to the ring with vengeance…albeit a little misplaced vengeance, but no matter…and this match starts to look very predictable. “Oh, but Jonny, none of you seem to be getting along.” Look, my problems with Jeff Purse are strictly personal. I disagree with the way he’s carrying on. He’s a fuckin’ BOARD MEMBER of this organization hell bent on vengeance from one his employees without a shred of proof to back himself up. Ask yourself, what CEO, manager, leader, or anyone, who would allow that to happen on their watch? Yeah, exactly.
Jeff needs to understand this is what we signed up for when we took control of WCF. We’re held to a higher standard and it’s my job to enforce that…even with friends. WCF isn’t an old boys club anyone, that’s one of the things Pantheon was created to destroy. There’s no Seth Lerch running around doing whatever his buddies Gravedigger and Logan want him to do. Inside the ring though, as I proved with Corey Black, I can put these differences aside. Black and I are on good terms now. We’ve worked out our problems. We’re the tag-team champions and have been teaming together for a while. We know how to get shit done, and obviously Purse is one of the best in the business. Let me make this clear, there will be no Pantheon dysfunction in this tournament. None. We’re rolling through this shit.
Fly pauses for a moment to catch his breath, before continuing.
I’ve left Brad Kane for last. Kane is a Hall of Famer and if you listen to him, he’s really, really good. He also has some big problems with yours truly. At this point, who doesn’t? I. Don’t. Care. Look, I’ve done nothing to Kane for him to create all this drama. As I’ve mentioned, I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to use my name, position, and notoriety to enhance his own profile. I don’t have time to be bothered with shit like that. I found out a long time ago that the majority of Hall of Famers in WCF just can’t cut it anymore. Now don’t go crazy Brad, I’m not saying you never could or didn’t contribute to the success of this company. I’m not taking your cookies, buddy. I’m merely stating a fact, which is that it’s 2013. It’s the Era of Jonny Fly and the Era of Pantheon, and you don’t have a seat at the table. You’re not ‘hot shit’ anymore. This company does not live or die off of the success of one, Bradley Kane. Those days are long gone.
Kane, Odin, and Oblvion. All former World Champions. All well known to the masses. All successful in their own different way. However, watch closely because these three are an example. For all that those individuals may be, the power and strength and Pantheon will dominate this match and dominate the rest of the tournament.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some pudding to go buy.
Fly moves forward and clicks the camera off, ending the scene.
[Scene Ends]
