The Road To Fifteen

[Xtreme]

The locker room. Post-Slam. The lights flicker, the fog from warm showers settles and the darkness seeps in. A janitor starts in with a mop, starting on his menial duties. He goes up and down the aisles of lockers until his mop hits a foot, the man looking up.

I'm sorry, sir... Nobody was supposed to be in here...

The other man waves him off, shaking his head. He stares at the floor as he speaks, somber.

It's fine. I'll be out in a minute.

The janitor nods, taking his mop elsewhere. Lucious breathes heavily, standing. He slams his fist against a locker door, heading out of the room. He mutters something under his breath, shaking his head as he heads for the parking complex.

I had it. I fucking had it. I could have been next. I could have paved my way straight to the top...

Lucious straddles his ducati, a deep sigh. He starts up the engine, shaking his head as he takes off...

Later That Week...

The scene opens up in the studio of a local radio station. Lucious sits across from Kasper on the KISS FM night show, the late night personality clicking out of a song.

That was "The Hills" by the Weeknd; coming up is Taylor Swift with "Bad Blood". But first, we have a special guest in the studio tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Wrestling Championship Federation superstar and Akron's own Lucious Starr. How's it going, Lucious?

Hey, Kasper. Good to be here. I'm... I'm doin, Kas. But I'm home, and that always helps.

Lucy- can I call you Lucy?

Everyone else does. I'd be offended if you didn't.

Okay. Lucy, you've been making some waves recently in the WCF. You crossed paths with rookies and vets alike. Many of the fans know you've put in... What, almost 15 years now? What keeps you going?

Honestly, Kasper, I ask myself that question every morning. Why do I still do this? What am I still getting out of it?

That question solves itself, Kasper. Everyone needs a drive to keep moving. Everyone is working for the future. I know I have more money in stocks, property and investments to keep my great-great-grandchildren living in prosperity. But I need something to keep me moving. Keep me working. I need to keep my body as active as my mind. So I turn to what I know best.

Well, alright. Cool. So you had a chance this past week to launch yourself into a World Title Contendership match for... Fifteen. But Bonnie Blue managed to grab the win. Where is your head at right now?

Honestly? I'm torn up. I gave up a match two weeks ago because I have a deep disdain for the animals I was teamed with. Last week was my chance to prove what I was made of, and I missed the mark. It sucks.

Another brief pause, Kasper speaks.

Well, let's hope you can clear your head soon; you have a match in Philly in just a few days. How about Dag Riddick?

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That brainless, talentless hack is going to get his ass handed to him. Katherine Phoenix? The special guest ref and, to an extent, our boss? Hopefully she calls it down the middle, just so that little punk doesn't have any excuses when he's waking up in two weeks wondering what hit him.

Sounds like a nice comeback plan, Luce. Well, I know you have to get outta here, and we have to get back to our regular programming. But it's been great having you and I truly hope to have you back again soon.

Anytime, Kasper. It's been a pleasure.

That was Lucious Starr. Watch him on WCF Slam and catch him this Sunday on PPV, now back to a commercial free hour of music, starting with T-Swift and "Bad Blood".

Kasper flips a switch, removing his headset as the music begins. Lucious stands, the two shake hands.

Thanks again for stopping in, Lucy. Good luck this weekend.

I'm not the one who needs it. Keep up the good work, Kas. I'll be back soon.

Lucious exits the studio, Kasper waving as he sits back down. The camera follows Lucious to the parking lot, watching as he mounts his ducati and rides off.

Later Still

The scene opens on a darkened room, a few candles the only light in the room. As the camera pans the scene, a voice is heard.

Sometimes, in life, you get one shot. One shot to make your life legit, one chance to chase your dreams, one opportunity to do right.

Two weeks ago, I sacrificed a match for the sake of pride. I could try to be noble about it, claim it was for the greater good, but I can't lie to myself. I didn't want to see Fag Smalldick or Bernie Sanders get a win off my name. So I let arrogance and foolish pride drive me to defeat. At my own hand, no less.

As the camera pans, it falls on an ornate glass with brandy. The glass is lifted, being sipped at delicately. The glass is lowered, the camera zooming out. Lucious takes in a breath, pondering.

Last week, I got my chance. I got my shot to prove that one moment of arrogance didn't define me. I had a chance to pave my way into the World Title picture. I was just one win away from both clearing my conscious of that loss and validating my place with the big boys.

But I fell short. I managed to get upstaged, and now Bonnie Blue has my spot in the Final Destination match. I suppose kharma decided that no good deed goes unpunished.

No hard feelings, Bonnie. You played smarter and gave your all. I simply wasn't up to task last week. Just make sure you win this thing so I don't feel like a complete ass.

Lucious takes a swig of his brandy, breathing in deeply. His mind wanders, looking forward to Sunday.

As far as my spot on the Fifteen card...

I get placed across the ring from a talentless hack who couldn't wrestle his way out of a folded child's blanket. The only thing on him that seems to work for shit is his mouth, and half the time he's spewing nonsense. The guy has the mentality of a fourth grader and the mouth of a sailor.

This is someone who joins the wrestling industry with about as much knowledge of the sport as Bernie Core does basic math skills.

I don't like the idea of having to carry such an egotistical fucktwit through a match just so fans get their money's worth. I don't like the idea of being pushed to the bottom of the card just because someone in management can't recognize talent and prowess when they see it. And I sure as HELL don't like the idea that the assistant to the woman who signs our paychecks is the goddamn special guest referee... Especially when Ridiculous has spent most of his time being a cunt and fighting with her.

What the hell am I supposed to do here? I win, Rags blames it on faulty judging by Phoenix. I lose, I look like a damn joke to the world. I mean, I'm sitting on a lose-lose situation here, and my only real option is to beat Twitshit senseless.

Lucious shakes his head, taking another drink of brandy. He places the glass on the mantle of his fireplace, walking about the room. His thoughts gather as he tries to make sense of things. He doesn't directly address the camera, but continues.

Fucking Gag Sondik. You goddamn worthless piece of baboon shit. Do yourself a favor and take a couple classes this week. Get a decent idea as to how to fucking wrestle. I'd like to be across the ring from someone who knows what the fuck they're doing, someone who JUST might be able to give me a fight for five minutes. Please, PLEASE go out, hire someone to teach you a few jabs and maybe one or two grapples so that I don't have to carry you for five minutes alone.

I really, REALLY don't want to have to deal with your retarded ass, but these are the cards I've been dealt. So, for the love of Pete, get some goddamn skill.

Katherine... Kat, do me a favor and call this thing straight up the middle. Seriously, I know you and Limpdick have issues. I know. And I'm going to make a point out of beating him senseless, I promise. But I need this match to be legit. So for the love of all that is holy, don't do me any favors except to call this thing right down the middle. You exact whatever vengeance you wish on Digits after the match, just give me a clean call.

Lucious sighs, grabbing up his glass. He walks across the room, picking up a glass bottle and pouring himself some more liquor. He takes a large swig, raising the glass to the camera.

To Fifteen. To Lucious Starr and that other guy. To the biggest Pay-Per-View yet in WCF history. And to a victorious return to my road to greatness... Again.

I'll see you all on Sunday. Until then...[/color]

Lucious gulps down the alcohol, taking in a deep breath. He shakes his head, pouring another glass as he walks off-screen. The camera once again pans the spacious room, fading to black...
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