Post by Steve Orbit on Mar 27, 2016 13:33:16 GMT -5
Scene opens in a hospital room. Lots of sterile whites, machines going "beep", you know the drill. In the bed we find a young lady with severe burns covering most of her body, with tubes coming out of her nose.
Orbit stands in the corner with a doctor.
Steve Orbit: She gonna make it, doc?
Doctor: She'll live, but she will have some... uh... horrible disfigurements. Plastic surgery has come a long way but her skin will never look the same, the burns are too severe. Luckily her face had only minimal damage.
Steve Orbit: Who cares about her face--
The doctor raises an eyebrow. Orbit catches himself.
Steve Orbit: Uh, I mean, yeah. That's fantastic. Good news with the bad news, right?
Doctor: Anyway, we're keeping her heavily sedated. A drug-induced coma. She has burns over 60 percent of her body, the pain would be unbearable.
Steve Orbit: Well, can I talk to her?
Doctor: Sure. She may not respond, but she can hear you.
Orbit shakes hands with the doctor.
Steve Orbit: Thanks Doc.
The doctor leaves the room. Orbit steps over to the bed. He bows his head, says a short prayer and then leans over her.
Steve Orbit: You 'gon be aight, girl... I'm just sorry that I wasn't there to protect you. I should have been there. This coward, Logan, he picks the one night he knows I won't be there to pull this type of shit. Don't worry-- when I'm finished with him, he 'gon be lookin' worse than you are right now. Uh, not that you lookin' real bad or anything. Nah! You 'gon be fine, you 'gon make a full recovery. Logan... he will never be alright again after what I do to him.
Orbit with the moment of silence before raising up, and he leaves the room. Fade out.
==
Cut to Orbit's face transitioning onto your TV, monitor, or mobile device.
Steve Orbit: Finally decided to speak up this week, Logan. Huh? I don't think you fully understand what the fuck is happening this week. You treatin' it like some throwaway tag match on Slam that ain't nobody gonna remember. This is our final battle, Logan. This is THREE STAGES OF HELL. If the world remembers nothing about our feud, they WILL remember this match, if only for the brutality and the mother fuckin' bloodshed. You know what I'm sayin'? I suppose they will remember Final Destination-- where Seth HANDED you the briefcase, there was two or three mother fuckers BESIDES myself who outperformed you in that match and you KNOW it. They won't remember the ladder match at Timebomb because we both looked like shit, let's be honest-- neither one of us wanted to be there. They won't remember the tag match when I bugged the fuck out and smashed you with a chair and disqualified myself. But they should remember that. Why? Because that's where I'm at with you, Logan. I don't care about pinning you no more. I don't care about briefcases or braggin' rights. I care about PUTTING YOU THE FUCK DOWN. I never asked for all this, Logan. I didn't start it, but I will damn well finish this mother fucker. And I will finish you, Logan. Sixteen years of politics, bias and bullshit-- and overrated hack mother fucker EXPOSED by the young pimp. It's a story as old as time, and it's time for it to be told again-- through violence. The most excellent story telling mechanism.
POOF. Orbit's face disappeared.
==
Fade in to Steve Orbit's home in the Oakland Hills. It's actually a lot more 'normal' than you would expect from a flashy, multi-millionaire pimp. It's a five bedroom, three bath, two-story home with a regular driveway and a two-car garage. White picket fence outside. This was another way that Orbit stuck it to the man. Hey, I'm in your fancy, white "safe" neighborhood. I'm at the Neighborhood Watch meetings. I'm driving my old school Cadillac with the bass knocking, old school R&B shit pumping, and parking that shit in the middle of the road on principle. I'm walking around my back yard with a banana hammock on. I am that sex-crazed Negro that you fear. I am definitely fucking your wife, and my dick is definitely bigger than yours. So go tell THAT to your therapist who charges $2000 an hour. Mother fucks.
Moving along, we find the man himself, Steve Orbit, sitting on his black leather loveseat in the living room. Marble floors, the inside of the house is more flashy than it's outer appearance would lead you to believe. Orbit is wearing a yellow pinstripe suit and and 'gator boots. His feathered hat rests on the coffee table. Diamond rocks in each ear-- Bling Force One and Bling Force Two.
Across from Orbit, we find a familiar face-- no, not Jonny Fly. He gets enough play in my promos. You're tired of seeing him. You think I can't write a promo without him. So instead we have...
JON E FLY.
Just kidding, it's the OTHER white meat, Hank Brown sitting across from Orbit looking goofy and stupid as usual. He's got his glasses on and his cheap suit and he's sitting there with a cheesy grin on his face. He signals to the camera man and this shit is off to the races.
Hank Brown: Greetings to the WCF galaxy, I am here in the home of Steven D. Orbit. The two-time World champion who's name used to be regarded as one of the greats-- that is, until recently, when he seems to stink it up every time he steps in the ring.
Orbit glares at Hank.
Hank Brown: Thanks for having me, Steve.
Steve Orbit: Man, just ask the fuckin' questions.
Hank adjusts his tie and clears his throat.
Hank Brown: Let's take it back a few weeks ago on Slam. It was the unlikely not-so-dynamic duo of yourself and Cormack MacNeill, taking on incestual Family members Logan and Dag Riddik. Now, you "snapped", as the commentators put it-- you hit Logan with a Honey Dip--
Steve Orbit: Which is NOT a finisher, by the way. Honey Dip sets up the Oakland Splash, or an Orbital DDT, or it just jacks somebody's neck and upper body up for later. It's not a finisher.
Hank Brown: Anyway, you hit it beautifully, and then Logan kicked out. You displayed zero emotion as you went outside the ring, came back in, and whacked Logan with a chair repeatedly. Now, let me ask you-- what pushed you over that edge? Was it the thoughts of Logan and Dag having incest orgies with Twilight and Katherine Phoenix? Were you bombarded with thoughts regarding, who has a penis, who doesn't, who's the man, who's the woman in these incest hillbilly relationships? Or was it something else entirely?
Orbit rubs his chin.
Steve Orbit: Well Hank, let me tell you like this. I stopped caring about beating Logan in that instant, because in that moment I realized something.
Hank Brown: That Logan's breath smelled like Twilight's hermaprodite genitals?
Steve Orbit: Not exactly. Not exactly. I realized what is driving Logan. I realized why he has been so focused on me since I returned, I realized why he has basically come out of retirement and irrelevance for the sole purpose of fucking my shit up. And the reason... is because I represent a deep, dark place inside Logan's mind.
Hank Brown: ... Deeper and darker than incest with trannies?
Steve Orbit: You see, Logan's true self was on display when we first met. When he had the red wig on, strap-ons, and he was suckin' off dildos with a plug in his ass, that was his one true self. He was in touch with his feminine side, his gay side-- those Pall Reds was like a truth serum. You know when people get drunk and tell their secrets? That's exactly what happened. He "came out", for real. But when he stopped takin' the shit and sobered up... he was mortified, terrified. So he did everything he could to try to pretend it never happened. He avoided me for years... until now. I'm guessing the pressure is too much to take. He feels like if he eliminates me from the company, or from the world, or whatever he's thinkin'-- he won't have to face his fears any longer. But I'm afraid I've got some bad news, Logan. I ain't goin' no-mother-fuckin'-where. And this little bump in the road, this little harassment you've been doin' for the last couple months-- it ends, it ends brutally and violently at Explosion. When I END IT.
Hank is taking notes, because this is some real shit and he might want to take credit for it some day.
Hank Brown: I see. So Logan is fighting his inner gay self. He's sexually attracted to you, and he feels like if he ruins you, he won't be attracted to you anymore?
Steve Orbit: Something like that.
Hank Brown: Riveting.
Steve Orbit: I know.
Hank shuffles through his notes.
Hank Brown: Why do you think Logan has gone to such extreme measures? Bombing your place of business, killing several patrons? He's already beaten you multiple times. What is provoking him to take actions like these?
Steve Orbit: ... Well, besides that he's obviously obsessed with me in a very weird, gay sexual way. He also knows that he has caught me off guard for the last two months. I have not been giving this my all, not even close. I've been slacking and taking it easy because Logan has fallen off so hard in the last few years. It's taken me catchin' an ass whooping from him on more than one occasion, for me to realize that Logan is actually showing up and trying to beat me. So this time, my grand, big plan is this-- put in a little bit more effort. That's all I need to do to beat this mother fucker. Mark my words, all that slick talk that Logan's been talking-- actin' like he's foolin' anybody, he's gonna get a serious fuckin' reality check at Explosion.
Hank Brown: Can I play you a clip from Logan's latest promo?
Steve Orbit: Proceed.
Hank takes out his tablet and plays a snippet from Logan's promo.
"Hey Steve, you remember how you won your first belt? The defend champion, SARAH TWILIGHT (lol), she got injured during the start of the match and had to be removed. You didn't even beat the actual champion for the belt. Damn. You want to know how I won my first WCF World Championship? I beat the entire fuckin' roster in a single match. It was called War."
Orbit laughs, clapping his hands.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, you better drop the mic right there. You better not continue. Nevermind the fact that you were on TWILIGHT'S DICK, STABLE MATES with the mother fucker less than a month ago-- so what the fuck are you (lol)'ing about-- but how 'bout my second World title? I BEAT EVERY ACTIVE FORMER WORLD CHAMPION IN THE COMPANY-- INCLUDING YOU. This is so typical of you, Logan. Bring up the past when it suits you, ignore all the rest. You history revising son of a bitch, fuck you AND Twilight AND your fuckin' Family too. This is the same mother fucker jokin' around backstage with Katherine Phoenix. This is the company he keeps. And he wants to act like his name is still worth a fuck around here? Pssh.
Orbit spits on the ground. Disgusted.
Hank Brown: This match is a pretty big deal-- I mean, you've got a Three Stages of Hell match, which it seems that you and Logan have agreed on terms that make the gimmick name quite literal. First, you've got a Falls Count Anywhere. You've also got an Electric Cage and a Taipei Death, Last Man Standing match. Those are three very dangerous, very brutal gimmicks on their own, but put together? It's quite likely that neither of you will walk out of there on your own. Are you willing to put yourself through this type of hell just to close the book on Logan?
Orbit narrows his eyes and nods, stone faced.
Steve Orbit: I'm a former mother fuckin' Hardcore Champion. Longest reigning besides Torture's perpetratin' ass-- and I actually defended mine, on the regular. I had some great matches as Hardcore champion. And more importantly, I embodied the Hardcore spirit, I took that Hardcore shit to the next level. Back when Logan and Oblivion were trading the Hardcore belt back and forth, didn't nobody give a fuck about that title. It was a sideshow freak attraction. Nobody cared that Logan held it five times when all his reigns were one or two weeks. I made the Hardcore belt important again, and since I left, it's gone to mother fuckin' shit again-- that's besides the point. The point is, I can do Hardcore. I been doin' Hardcore since I was a young boy. I'm maybe the most purest, raw Hardcore mother fucker in this company. I was gettin' stabbed and shot at for years before I became a wrestler. When Logan was winning Wars against ten people who nobody ever heard of again, I was kickin' mother fuckers heads in on these Oakland streets. I got the Hardcore resume, I'm the real Hardcore mother fucker in WCF. And I'll gladly show everybody what that means in this Three Stages of Hell match. Logan is acting like this is just another match. I won't make that mistake. I'm comin' for his fuckin' head, and I'm prepared to spill his mother fuckin' guts all over that arena, I'm prepared to fry his ass with electricity and I'm damn sure prepared to knock his ass out with glass on my hands. And I'ma enjoy every second of it.
Hank nods, reviewing his notes once more.
Hank Brown: Well... let's say you do defeat Logan at Explosion. What's next? You're one belt away from Grand Slam, is that something you'd be interested in achieving? Do your sights get set on the World title? Something else?
Orbit rubs his chin.
Steve Orbit: Man, I don't like to really... project into the future that much. But for the sake of the interview, I'll play ball. Um... you know, I like this kid Teo del Sol, the People's Champion. He's got a good heart. I think Teo vs Orbit for that People's title has a nice ring to it, you know what I'm sayin'-- that's a belt I've had my eye on since I signed with WCF. When I joined, Kid Phantasm was rockin' it, and I feel like nobody has really elevated it to that same level since. I think I could do that for the People's title. So that's definitely an idea. The Internet title... I mean, I've never been that interested in it. I know it would get me that Grand Slam, but Z-MAC? That's my mother fuckin' nigga, man. And besides that, I don't know if I could fuck with Z-MAC on that Internet belt. I never discount my own ability but that Internet belt is a different animal. I don't know if I'm exercising those Internet muscles as much, if you know what I'm sayin'.
Hank Brown: And the World title?
Steve Orbit: We'll see. We'll see where the chips fall. I mean, I feel like I'm in a little bit of a hole right now, and I'ma have to dig myself out and prove myself all over again. But it ain't no thang, believe me. I'll be back on top of this whole mother fucker, and it starts this Sunday. It starts with Logan and it ends with me holdin' the World title above my head-- whether that's this Summer, or at One, or sometime next year... we'll see, but that's always the goal. That's always the direction I want to be moving in, you know what I'm sayin'.
Hank Brown: What about Logan and the Final Destination breifcase?
Steve Orbit: Logan fucked that up. I mean, we all KNEW he would fuck it up, but still. Dumb mother fucker, he's had all the momentum in the world since he won that fuckin' briefcase. Now he's goin' to Explosion to face me in Three Stages of Hell-- all that momentum about to come to a screetching halt. I'ma end all that shit, BAM. Beating a dead horse? I'm about to beat a BITCH to DEATH. With glass on my hands. Word up. How's he gonna cash in the briefcase after I scarred him for life? After I got him pissin' his pants on Pay Per View? How he 'gon be a viable World Champion after that? Fucker. The ship sailed on that Final Destination shit. And part of that is thanks to Seth Lerch. He introduced it into the company-- he MADE THE DECISION to give it to an overrated hack-- and now it's gonna go down as a forgettable waste of time. His cash-in will be laughable and forgettable, that's my prediction. Fuckin' disgraceful. I woulda made that shit hot, you can believe that-- shit, I woulda cashed in on Jayson Price THAT NIGHT and you know how that woulda turned out. We'd be having a different conversation right now, and I'd have that title belt resting on the table next to my Pimp Hat.
Hank Brown: Alrighty then. You brought up Seth Lerch. You Pimp Slapped him on national television last week. Why? Was it a heat of the moment thing? You accused him of conspiring with Logan on the Club bombing. Do you still feel that way?
Orbit cracks his knuckles, considering the question.
Steve Orbit: I dunno. I ain't gonna sit here and take up for the mother fucker. I can't put nothin' past Seth Lerch, nothin' surprises me with him. Maybe he was in on the bombing. Maybe him and Logan really are at odds right now. Who knows? Either way, the Pimp Slap felt good. I owed him that for a while now. I hope it woke his ass up, but I doubt it. Seth is a bone head-- always has been, always will be. A bone headed drunk.
Hank Brown: Hey-- uh, you know, that's our boss you're talking about.
Orbit grins.
Steve Orbit: Good job, Hank. Tow the company line. You about to get Pimp Slapped too.
Hank flinches. Orbit picks up the TV remote and throws it at him.
Steve Orbit: Get the fuck outta here, man. You startin' to fuck with my serenity.
Hank looks at Orbit. He gathers his notes and whatever else and begins to head to the door.
Hank Brown: Thanks for having me.
Steve Orbit: Shut the fuck up. Get out.
Hank leaves, closing the door behind him. Orbit laughs. Fade out.
Orbit stands in the corner with a doctor.
Steve Orbit: She gonna make it, doc?
Doctor: She'll live, but she will have some... uh... horrible disfigurements. Plastic surgery has come a long way but her skin will never look the same, the burns are too severe. Luckily her face had only minimal damage.
Steve Orbit: Who cares about her face--
The doctor raises an eyebrow. Orbit catches himself.
Steve Orbit: Uh, I mean, yeah. That's fantastic. Good news with the bad news, right?
Doctor: Anyway, we're keeping her heavily sedated. A drug-induced coma. She has burns over 60 percent of her body, the pain would be unbearable.
Steve Orbit: Well, can I talk to her?
Doctor: Sure. She may not respond, but she can hear you.
Orbit shakes hands with the doctor.
Steve Orbit: Thanks Doc.
The doctor leaves the room. Orbit steps over to the bed. He bows his head, says a short prayer and then leans over her.
Steve Orbit: You 'gon be aight, girl... I'm just sorry that I wasn't there to protect you. I should have been there. This coward, Logan, he picks the one night he knows I won't be there to pull this type of shit. Don't worry-- when I'm finished with him, he 'gon be lookin' worse than you are right now. Uh, not that you lookin' real bad or anything. Nah! You 'gon be fine, you 'gon make a full recovery. Logan... he will never be alright again after what I do to him.
Orbit with the moment of silence before raising up, and he leaves the room. Fade out.
==
Cut to Orbit's face transitioning onto your TV, monitor, or mobile device.
Steve Orbit: Finally decided to speak up this week, Logan. Huh? I don't think you fully understand what the fuck is happening this week. You treatin' it like some throwaway tag match on Slam that ain't nobody gonna remember. This is our final battle, Logan. This is THREE STAGES OF HELL. If the world remembers nothing about our feud, they WILL remember this match, if only for the brutality and the mother fuckin' bloodshed. You know what I'm sayin'? I suppose they will remember Final Destination-- where Seth HANDED you the briefcase, there was two or three mother fuckers BESIDES myself who outperformed you in that match and you KNOW it. They won't remember the ladder match at Timebomb because we both looked like shit, let's be honest-- neither one of us wanted to be there. They won't remember the tag match when I bugged the fuck out and smashed you with a chair and disqualified myself. But they should remember that. Why? Because that's where I'm at with you, Logan. I don't care about pinning you no more. I don't care about briefcases or braggin' rights. I care about PUTTING YOU THE FUCK DOWN. I never asked for all this, Logan. I didn't start it, but I will damn well finish this mother fucker. And I will finish you, Logan. Sixteen years of politics, bias and bullshit-- and overrated hack mother fucker EXPOSED by the young pimp. It's a story as old as time, and it's time for it to be told again-- through violence. The most excellent story telling mechanism.
POOF. Orbit's face disappeared.
==
Fade in to Steve Orbit's home in the Oakland Hills. It's actually a lot more 'normal' than you would expect from a flashy, multi-millionaire pimp. It's a five bedroom, three bath, two-story home with a regular driveway and a two-car garage. White picket fence outside. This was another way that Orbit stuck it to the man. Hey, I'm in your fancy, white "safe" neighborhood. I'm at the Neighborhood Watch meetings. I'm driving my old school Cadillac with the bass knocking, old school R&B shit pumping, and parking that shit in the middle of the road on principle. I'm walking around my back yard with a banana hammock on. I am that sex-crazed Negro that you fear. I am definitely fucking your wife, and my dick is definitely bigger than yours. So go tell THAT to your therapist who charges $2000 an hour. Mother fucks.
Moving along, we find the man himself, Steve Orbit, sitting on his black leather loveseat in the living room. Marble floors, the inside of the house is more flashy than it's outer appearance would lead you to believe. Orbit is wearing a yellow pinstripe suit and and 'gator boots. His feathered hat rests on the coffee table. Diamond rocks in each ear-- Bling Force One and Bling Force Two.
Across from Orbit, we find a familiar face-- no, not Jonny Fly. He gets enough play in my promos. You're tired of seeing him. You think I can't write a promo without him. So instead we have...
JON E FLY.
Just kidding, it's the OTHER white meat, Hank Brown sitting across from Orbit looking goofy and stupid as usual. He's got his glasses on and his cheap suit and he's sitting there with a cheesy grin on his face. He signals to the camera man and this shit is off to the races.
Hank Brown: Greetings to the WCF galaxy, I am here in the home of Steven D. Orbit. The two-time World champion who's name used to be regarded as one of the greats-- that is, until recently, when he seems to stink it up every time he steps in the ring.
Orbit glares at Hank.
Hank Brown: Thanks for having me, Steve.
Steve Orbit: Man, just ask the fuckin' questions.
Hank adjusts his tie and clears his throat.
Hank Brown: Let's take it back a few weeks ago on Slam. It was the unlikely not-so-dynamic duo of yourself and Cormack MacNeill, taking on incestual Family members Logan and Dag Riddik. Now, you "snapped", as the commentators put it-- you hit Logan with a Honey Dip--
Steve Orbit: Which is NOT a finisher, by the way. Honey Dip sets up the Oakland Splash, or an Orbital DDT, or it just jacks somebody's neck and upper body up for later. It's not a finisher.
Hank Brown: Anyway, you hit it beautifully, and then Logan kicked out. You displayed zero emotion as you went outside the ring, came back in, and whacked Logan with a chair repeatedly. Now, let me ask you-- what pushed you over that edge? Was it the thoughts of Logan and Dag having incest orgies with Twilight and Katherine Phoenix? Were you bombarded with thoughts regarding, who has a penis, who doesn't, who's the man, who's the woman in these incest hillbilly relationships? Or was it something else entirely?
Orbit rubs his chin.
Steve Orbit: Well Hank, let me tell you like this. I stopped caring about beating Logan in that instant, because in that moment I realized something.
Hank Brown: That Logan's breath smelled like Twilight's hermaprodite genitals?
Steve Orbit: Not exactly. Not exactly. I realized what is driving Logan. I realized why he has been so focused on me since I returned, I realized why he has basically come out of retirement and irrelevance for the sole purpose of fucking my shit up. And the reason... is because I represent a deep, dark place inside Logan's mind.
Hank Brown: ... Deeper and darker than incest with trannies?
Steve Orbit: You see, Logan's true self was on display when we first met. When he had the red wig on, strap-ons, and he was suckin' off dildos with a plug in his ass, that was his one true self. He was in touch with his feminine side, his gay side-- those Pall Reds was like a truth serum. You know when people get drunk and tell their secrets? That's exactly what happened. He "came out", for real. But when he stopped takin' the shit and sobered up... he was mortified, terrified. So he did everything he could to try to pretend it never happened. He avoided me for years... until now. I'm guessing the pressure is too much to take. He feels like if he eliminates me from the company, or from the world, or whatever he's thinkin'-- he won't have to face his fears any longer. But I'm afraid I've got some bad news, Logan. I ain't goin' no-mother-fuckin'-where. And this little bump in the road, this little harassment you've been doin' for the last couple months-- it ends, it ends brutally and violently at Explosion. When I END IT.
Hank is taking notes, because this is some real shit and he might want to take credit for it some day.
Hank Brown: I see. So Logan is fighting his inner gay self. He's sexually attracted to you, and he feels like if he ruins you, he won't be attracted to you anymore?
Steve Orbit: Something like that.
Hank Brown: Riveting.
Steve Orbit: I know.
Hank shuffles through his notes.
Hank Brown: Why do you think Logan has gone to such extreme measures? Bombing your place of business, killing several patrons? He's already beaten you multiple times. What is provoking him to take actions like these?
Steve Orbit: ... Well, besides that he's obviously obsessed with me in a very weird, gay sexual way. He also knows that he has caught me off guard for the last two months. I have not been giving this my all, not even close. I've been slacking and taking it easy because Logan has fallen off so hard in the last few years. It's taken me catchin' an ass whooping from him on more than one occasion, for me to realize that Logan is actually showing up and trying to beat me. So this time, my grand, big plan is this-- put in a little bit more effort. That's all I need to do to beat this mother fucker. Mark my words, all that slick talk that Logan's been talking-- actin' like he's foolin' anybody, he's gonna get a serious fuckin' reality check at Explosion.
Hank Brown: Can I play you a clip from Logan's latest promo?
Steve Orbit: Proceed.
Hank takes out his tablet and plays a snippet from Logan's promo.
"Hey Steve, you remember how you won your first belt? The defend champion, SARAH TWILIGHT (lol), she got injured during the start of the match and had to be removed. You didn't even beat the actual champion for the belt. Damn. You want to know how I won my first WCF World Championship? I beat the entire fuckin' roster in a single match. It was called War."
Orbit laughs, clapping his hands.
Steve Orbit: Yeah, you better drop the mic right there. You better not continue. Nevermind the fact that you were on TWILIGHT'S DICK, STABLE MATES with the mother fucker less than a month ago-- so what the fuck are you (lol)'ing about-- but how 'bout my second World title? I BEAT EVERY ACTIVE FORMER WORLD CHAMPION IN THE COMPANY-- INCLUDING YOU. This is so typical of you, Logan. Bring up the past when it suits you, ignore all the rest. You history revising son of a bitch, fuck you AND Twilight AND your fuckin' Family too. This is the same mother fucker jokin' around backstage with Katherine Phoenix. This is the company he keeps. And he wants to act like his name is still worth a fuck around here? Pssh.
Orbit spits on the ground. Disgusted.
Hank Brown: This match is a pretty big deal-- I mean, you've got a Three Stages of Hell match, which it seems that you and Logan have agreed on terms that make the gimmick name quite literal. First, you've got a Falls Count Anywhere. You've also got an Electric Cage and a Taipei Death, Last Man Standing match. Those are three very dangerous, very brutal gimmicks on their own, but put together? It's quite likely that neither of you will walk out of there on your own. Are you willing to put yourself through this type of hell just to close the book on Logan?
Orbit narrows his eyes and nods, stone faced.
Steve Orbit: I'm a former mother fuckin' Hardcore Champion. Longest reigning besides Torture's perpetratin' ass-- and I actually defended mine, on the regular. I had some great matches as Hardcore champion. And more importantly, I embodied the Hardcore spirit, I took that Hardcore shit to the next level. Back when Logan and Oblivion were trading the Hardcore belt back and forth, didn't nobody give a fuck about that title. It was a sideshow freak attraction. Nobody cared that Logan held it five times when all his reigns were one or two weeks. I made the Hardcore belt important again, and since I left, it's gone to mother fuckin' shit again-- that's besides the point. The point is, I can do Hardcore. I been doin' Hardcore since I was a young boy. I'm maybe the most purest, raw Hardcore mother fucker in this company. I was gettin' stabbed and shot at for years before I became a wrestler. When Logan was winning Wars against ten people who nobody ever heard of again, I was kickin' mother fuckers heads in on these Oakland streets. I got the Hardcore resume, I'm the real Hardcore mother fucker in WCF. And I'll gladly show everybody what that means in this Three Stages of Hell match. Logan is acting like this is just another match. I won't make that mistake. I'm comin' for his fuckin' head, and I'm prepared to spill his mother fuckin' guts all over that arena, I'm prepared to fry his ass with electricity and I'm damn sure prepared to knock his ass out with glass on my hands. And I'ma enjoy every second of it.
Hank nods, reviewing his notes once more.
Hank Brown: Well... let's say you do defeat Logan at Explosion. What's next? You're one belt away from Grand Slam, is that something you'd be interested in achieving? Do your sights get set on the World title? Something else?
Orbit rubs his chin.
Steve Orbit: Man, I don't like to really... project into the future that much. But for the sake of the interview, I'll play ball. Um... you know, I like this kid Teo del Sol, the People's Champion. He's got a good heart. I think Teo vs Orbit for that People's title has a nice ring to it, you know what I'm sayin'-- that's a belt I've had my eye on since I signed with WCF. When I joined, Kid Phantasm was rockin' it, and I feel like nobody has really elevated it to that same level since. I think I could do that for the People's title. So that's definitely an idea. The Internet title... I mean, I've never been that interested in it. I know it would get me that Grand Slam, but Z-MAC? That's my mother fuckin' nigga, man. And besides that, I don't know if I could fuck with Z-MAC on that Internet belt. I never discount my own ability but that Internet belt is a different animal. I don't know if I'm exercising those Internet muscles as much, if you know what I'm sayin'.
Hank Brown: And the World title?
Steve Orbit: We'll see. We'll see where the chips fall. I mean, I feel like I'm in a little bit of a hole right now, and I'ma have to dig myself out and prove myself all over again. But it ain't no thang, believe me. I'll be back on top of this whole mother fucker, and it starts this Sunday. It starts with Logan and it ends with me holdin' the World title above my head-- whether that's this Summer, or at One, or sometime next year... we'll see, but that's always the goal. That's always the direction I want to be moving in, you know what I'm sayin'.
Hank Brown: What about Logan and the Final Destination breifcase?
Steve Orbit: Logan fucked that up. I mean, we all KNEW he would fuck it up, but still. Dumb mother fucker, he's had all the momentum in the world since he won that fuckin' briefcase. Now he's goin' to Explosion to face me in Three Stages of Hell-- all that momentum about to come to a screetching halt. I'ma end all that shit, BAM. Beating a dead horse? I'm about to beat a BITCH to DEATH. With glass on my hands. Word up. How's he gonna cash in the briefcase after I scarred him for life? After I got him pissin' his pants on Pay Per View? How he 'gon be a viable World Champion after that? Fucker. The ship sailed on that Final Destination shit. And part of that is thanks to Seth Lerch. He introduced it into the company-- he MADE THE DECISION to give it to an overrated hack-- and now it's gonna go down as a forgettable waste of time. His cash-in will be laughable and forgettable, that's my prediction. Fuckin' disgraceful. I woulda made that shit hot, you can believe that-- shit, I woulda cashed in on Jayson Price THAT NIGHT and you know how that woulda turned out. We'd be having a different conversation right now, and I'd have that title belt resting on the table next to my Pimp Hat.
Hank Brown: Alrighty then. You brought up Seth Lerch. You Pimp Slapped him on national television last week. Why? Was it a heat of the moment thing? You accused him of conspiring with Logan on the Club bombing. Do you still feel that way?
Orbit cracks his knuckles, considering the question.
Steve Orbit: I dunno. I ain't gonna sit here and take up for the mother fucker. I can't put nothin' past Seth Lerch, nothin' surprises me with him. Maybe he was in on the bombing. Maybe him and Logan really are at odds right now. Who knows? Either way, the Pimp Slap felt good. I owed him that for a while now. I hope it woke his ass up, but I doubt it. Seth is a bone head-- always has been, always will be. A bone headed drunk.
Hank Brown: Hey-- uh, you know, that's our boss you're talking about.
Orbit grins.
Steve Orbit: Good job, Hank. Tow the company line. You about to get Pimp Slapped too.
Hank flinches. Orbit picks up the TV remote and throws it at him.
Steve Orbit: Get the fuck outta here, man. You startin' to fuck with my serenity.
Hank looks at Orbit. He gathers his notes and whatever else and begins to head to the door.
Hank Brown: Thanks for having me.
Steve Orbit: Shut the fuck up. Get out.
Hank leaves, closing the door behind him. Orbit laughs. Fade out.
