Post by The Future Elements on Apr 20, 2016 5:43:17 GMT -5
[Scene: Berwick, PA. The Mothership, Cornelius Casanova's green and gold Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight, pulls onto a dirt road and then through an open gate and onto a farm. We see a sheet metal grain silo stretching into the air, towering above the Rockwell-esque scene before us; there is a quaint farmhouse about eighty yards from an old barn that appears to be in pretty good shape. Obviously, this is a working farm... or at least the residence of some rural-living American family. Things aren't exactly all they seem, though- we notice through the half-open barn door that there is a full-size wrestling ring set up where horse stables or something of the like might normally be found. Cornelius pulls the car up in what seems a reasonable place to park; as soon as he stops his ride, his passengers disembark quickly. From the back seat, the Polar Phantasm emerges; the look on his face is one deeply shaded in nostalgia. From the passenger seat, a downright panicked looking Steve Orbit approaches the Phantasm amidst his woolgathering and begins quietly objecting.]
Orbit: You didn't tell me we were coming here, man- shit's changed since you been around last, man. There was a bunch of shit went down with Jonny Fly, and you know he's my half-brother-
Phantasm: This is bigger than your family troubles, man.
Orbit: That's what I'm saying, man- it's probably way past a handshake and an apology. They're bitter fuckin' enemies, man. I don't know how I feel about asking to team-
Phantasm: Water under the bridge. It has to be. This is bigger than the past. It's about the future- which means we're in the right place.
[Cornelius slowly emerges from the car carrying a white grocery bag with what appears to be at least one sandwich bag filled with marijuana. He has a joint hanging from his mouth in anticipation.]
Casanova: Man, y'all quit trippin' about the bullshit- it ain't like the guy's some kinda high-strung nutjob, right?
[Polar shrugs, then laughs.]
Phantasm: Actually, Corndog...
[As Polar begins to speak, we see Jeff Purse peek out of his barn; he waves them over.]
Phantasm: ...you'll see. He's the best high-strung nutjob I know.
[Moments later, when they get into the barn... we see a familiar poker table and four chairs set up in the ring, and the weight bench to the right of the door has been made to function as a dry bar. We hear crickets; with a smile, Jeff Purse turns on a radio and Rick James' "Superfreak" comes crashing out of the speakers. They all jump from the sonic boom; as Purse fixes the volume, we see Cornelius head to the ring and Orbit head for the bar.]
Phantasm: Now this takes me back.
Orbit: Yeah, now we're in business-
[Orbit finds the Hennessey, giving Purse an approving nod.]
Purse: Good to see you, Steve-
Orbit: Yeah, man- good to be seen. Thought shit might be weird, but-
Phantasm: -when the hell isn't it?
Purse: Man's got a point.
[Polar and Purse linger outside the ring, thinking of what to say- inside the ring, seated at the poker table, Cornelius starts shuffling the cards.]
Phantasm: ...something about this barn. We've had some pretty epic moments in here over the years, man.
Purse: And more to come, bro. I'm in.
[Polar turns to his old friend, confused.]
Phantasm: In for-
[Jeff Purse smiles.]
Purse: Trios. You had your computer call my cellphone and tell me that you and Steve were coming over to talk about Trios Cup, and I knew what that meant- I've known your ass long enough. And you can't tell Kari, 'cause she'll kill me.
[Orbit and Cornelius laugh, almost at the exact same moment.]
Orbit: Yo man, you need permission to wrestle these days?
Purse: I promised her I was taking some time off-
[Orbit enters the ring, smoothly ducking between the top and second ropes without spilling a drop of his snifter of cognac.]
Orbit: Just sayin', what kinda bitch won't let her man do his job?
[Purse sighs, continuing to defend his fiancee.]
Purse: It's not like that- it was just for the best that I take some time and mend, you know? I've got a family now; every once in a while I gotta let the bruises heal so my kids don't grow up thinking I'm a professional punching bag.
Phantasm: Easy solution there- let 'em watch you wrestle a couple matches. They'll figure out real quick that daddy dishes it out way more than he takes it.
[Purse chuckles; the former partners high-five.]
Purse: It's time to be the Future Elements again, isn't it.
[Polar smiles; one of the many reasons Purse and he made such a great team is Jeff's uncanny ability to know what Polar's thinking (a power many, including Phantasm's own wife, would pay good money to have).]
Phantasm: It's Trios Cup, and I need the best. I need the best damn tag partner I ever had.
[Phantasm reaches out a hand, grasping and clenching Purse's hand in a sign of brotherhood.]
Polar: It's time to be the Future Elements again, Jeff.
[Inside the ring, Cornelius clears his throat.]
Casanova: We playin' poker or what?
[We see that Orbit and Cornelius have already begun playing while rolling and lighting a blunt all while Purse and Polar chatted. Polar mutters a toast to Purse as they head into the ring:]
Polar: Here's to good old Pantheon Poker Nights.
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Achieving greatness first as a BMX champion and then as a WCF wrestler, he is a man who many would say has conquered apprehension and fear; those who haven't met the obsessive compulsive young father of two. He is a hero of the present; he is THE FUTURE, JEFF PURSE!
Born with genius intelligence, his parents thought he might become a doctor or a lawyer; to everyone's surprise, all the Kid wanted to do was wrestle. Breaking into the business as a teenager, he worked his way up to the WCF bigtime as Kid Phantasm. Now a father and (more importantly) a grown ass man, he has returned- he is THE POLAR PHANTASM!
Coming up on the mean streets of Oakland, California; he survived on street knowledge, a blistering backhand and one hell of a mouthpiece. He has earned his place among the greatest in WCF history, to say nothing of his standings at each years' Players Ball; those who have underestimated him have learned firsthand not to mess with "THE MACK", STEVE ORBIT!
[April has come once more, and in WCF that means one thing- Trios is coming. To speak more specifically, we're addressing the legendary WCF Trios Cup Tournament; a tournament so epic that urban legends are associated with the trophy (and its supposed curse). A tournament so epic, in fact, that winning it has driven more than a few WCF wrestlers to insanity... some would say that Kid Phantasm was among those driven mad, back in 2012 when he spent the entire tournament trying to eat pudding out of the trophy. Those people would probably be right; but that's beside the point, and besides it was kind of adorable.]
[Trios Cup is a time for unlikely alliances, resurging partnerships and dark horses becoming juggernauts. It's a time when the entire landscape of the company can be turned on its ear in a week... a show... a moment. Sure, the prizes for winning the tournament are tremendous opportunities; a World Title shot for the man or woman who gets the pinfall, a Tag Team Title shot for his or her partners. But the real prize for winning the tournament, materials like trophies and chances like title shots not withstanding, is the feeling one gets from uniting with one's friends and allies to prove you're the best in the business.]
[As we join our heroes, we find Phantasm and Orbit two thirds of the way to being a 2016 Trios Cup team; their companion, Cornelius Casanova, has opted to stay in his place at ringside and not enter the ring as their third. But Phantasm, as usual, has a plan- a plan to not just give he and Orbit some backup, but to perhaps reunite one of WCF's most dangerous tag teams. This is the story of how the Future Elements came back together... and decided to stand side by side with The Mack in his fight to bring the Trios Cup home.]
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FUTURE ELEMENTS (Volume 2) #1: Three Men, One Cup
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[Scene: Berwick, PA; Purse's farm, barn interior. Specifically, we're now in the wrestling ring at a poker table. The game is at a lull seemingly; a radio in background is playing Hall and Oates' "Family Man" though no one seems to notice. The other three wrestlers seem amid laughing fits; we quickly realize everyone is listening to Steve Orbit tell a story from his days in Oakland.]
Orbit: -man, there was this one bitch I knew, bitch named Bonnie... we all called her Bulletproof. White ho, got shot three different times and still out there hoin'.
Phantasm: Fuck a five-dollar whore, she might as well call herself a "fifty cent" ho at that point-
Orbit: Yeah, Fifty kinda looks like this bitch nowadays actually. Homegirl was hardcore, though- last time she got shot, she was out on the street turning tricks within *two days* of getting lit up. Bandages all on her shit and everything.
Purse: Ugh- who would fuck that? Seriously?
Orbit: Man, somebody out there always low bottom enough to fuck a bitch like that.
[Orbit antes up; to his right, Purse does the same.]
Casanova: Was she fine at least?
[Cornelius tosses a few chips into the pot; to his right, Polar eyes his hand suspiciously.]
Orbit: Uh, she was- about ten years and three shootings ago, herd?
Casanova: Ouch.
Orbit: Girl was so dumb she thought 'judo' was what they make bagels out of.
[They all laugh; song on the radio changes to Black Crowes' "Remedy".]
Purse: Alright, I got one-
[With a slight laugh, Purse attempts to get himself in 'story-telling mode'; it is clear by his level of motor skill and abhorrent memory, Purse is obviously baked.]
Purse: So there was this guy I knew named Jacques who lost a leg in a bicycle accident back in the day... back in my BMX days, right?
Phantasm: Yeah? How'd that happen?
Purse: Well- ok, let me start back at- wait, was that him or Marty? No, wait, I got it, check it out. So this guy's dad was a farmer, right? So we were out on his land, doing jumps off this grass mound he had; oh wait, so there was a tractor, right? But the tractor was broken. At least we thought the tractor was broken- wait, maybe that was Marty's place.
[Cornelius blows a bit of air out the side of his mouth.]
Casanova: Man, while you get that shit straight- it's your bet.
Purse: Oh, oh yeah.
[Purse checks his cards; he checks them again. He checks them a third time.]
Purse: Raise twenty.
[He tosses a pair of chips into the pot; Polar folds.]
Casanova: You out again? Damn, P, that's like six hands straight.
Orbit: You know you gotta play to win, right playa?
[Polar just shakes his head.]
Phantasm: Didn't like my odds.
[Orbit raises; Casanova soon folds, leaving Purse and Orbit in.]
Purse: Call. Pair of Jacks.
Orbit: Ah, shit-
[He drops his cards to the table, revealing a pair of queens.]
Orbit: I just brought these two bitches.
[Orbit laughs as he collects the pot; Purse reaches over in front of Cornelius, picking up a blunt from the pile of them atop the felt table.]
Purse: Fuck it; I can start Patrick's college fund again later. Your deal, Orbit.
[Purse lights the blunt, taking a huge puff and passing it as he chokes himself practically under the table. Steve begins dealing as Cornelius laughs at Purse's purpling countenance.]
Purse: Shit- smooth, right? Hits like the ground coming up at you.
Orbit: Yeah, that's that Cali shit I brought-
Casanova: -yeah, that shit's the truth. I ain't had anything that dank since that time I went down on a French chick.
Phantasm: Oh god, that's gotta be like eating a hairy sponge made out of sourdough.
[Polar tosses in a blind, as does Casanova; they all look at their cards, each placing small bets. We get back around to the Phantasm; he looks to the others to see them all awaiting his fold.]
Phantasm: I'll see the ten and raise thirty.
[Eyebrows perk up; as if wanting to see what Polar's holding, everyone places their bets. Once more, Polar raises; this time, however, he raises by two hundred.]
Orbit: Fold.
Casanova: Yeah, I'm out-
Purse: I'm not touching that.
Orbit: You better have some serious shit, man.
[They lay out their cards; absolutely everyone at the table could've beaten Polar's high-card nine.]
Orbit: You sneaky mother fucker.
[Phantasm shakes his head.]
Phantasm: I'm not sneaky, I'm cunning.
[Cornelius laughs, then prods the Phantasm regarding his upcoming in-ring challenge.]
Casanova: What do you call Sarah Twilight, then?
[Without hesitation, Polar gives a one-word answer.]
Phantasm: Devious.
Purse: Oh, I'd go way further than that- she came within inches of ruining my life. She played me like a dime store paddleball; smacked my heart around, then threw me away after I'd lost the respect of everyone I cared about.
Orbit: Yeah, didn't you almost marry that bitch?
Purse: No, I was- just- fuck you, alright Steve?
[Orbit laughs at Purse's frustration.]
Orbit: Just fuckin' with you, man. It's a common square problem, gettin' your head fucked up by pussy- probably seems a lot funnier from a mack's point of view.
Phantasm: Y'all remember Cryogenix, right? Well, the thing I remember the most from when we started all that up was that I'd come back to a WCF where everyone really liked Sarah Twilight despite her being... well, you know. Sarah Twilight. Shit was surreal as hell. Like I'd entered another reality where black is white, up is down and Sarah Twilight is a decent human being to people.
Casanova: Yeah, I got lost on that shit too- I mean, heel-face turns are a thing, but how you gonna put a smiling face on the fuckin' devil and sell that shit at church?
Orbit: For real.
Phantasm: It's a working theory here, but I'm pretty sure that some bitches are just the evil kind of crazy. I mean, we all know bitches are crazy-
Casanova: Oh yeah-
[Purse checks to make sure his fiancee hasn't joined them in the barn before agreeing.]
Purse: Obviously.
Phantasm: But some bitches are 'drown your children' kinda crazy. Thus explaining Twilight- if she'd let someone get close enough to mate with her before she ate their heads off like a praying mantis, she'd then likely sacrifice her children in some sort of blood ritual or just put their heads in an oven like a Grimm's fairy tale murderer. Somewhere out there is a mountain of her fallen foes, many tricked and betrayed; it's a mountain that she once again wants to climb and reign terror on the company from above.
[The others contemplate Polar's theory; song in background changes to Led Zeppelin's "Four Sticks".]
Phantasm: I told myself a long time ago I'd probably have to be the one to take her down, especially once I saw how relentlessly she came after Fly-
[Purse growls a bit; Orbit seems unnerved at the possible shift in topic, but Polar continues taking the awkward moment with him.]
Phantasm: -I knew she wouldn't be stopped so easily. At least we're finally at a time in WCF where she doesn't have any strings to pull, any administrative cards up her sleeve; she can't pull rank to avoid losing anymore. I'm likely to get as close to a fair fight out of Twilight as someone as shady as she can participate in.
Casanova: Man, I read some crazy shit on the web about Twilight-
Orbit: Those pics are fakes, man-
Phantasm: -yeah, I can confirm that. We circulated those fakes about four years ago*.
(* - all, somehow, part of a plan to get Seth Lerch out of prison! Check out Breakout Kings of the Ring #1-5 for details... and one hell of an adventure. -B)
Casanova: One site says she's an alien, another place says they've got testimonials from like eighty dudes that she's a secret nymphomaniac. Infowars.com says she's been replaced - more than once - by 'new' Sarah Twilights like the bitch is a member of Menudo or some shit.
Orbit: I don't buy that nympho shit- seriously, the bitch looks like she hasn't gotten a good fuck since she learned how to fight off Daddy.
Phantasm: Straight up, none of that's real- homegirl isn't some sort of otherworldly power; she's just a really persuasive, really angry woman who's totally empty on the inside. I see it. Anytime I look at her, I just... see it. She's like a husk.
Purse: The shine in those eyes is a disguise... if you see past that, it's just darkness in there.
Phantasm: I mean, I believe that bad people can choose to do good, and become good people in turn... with a few exceptions. And that woman is one of those exceptions.
Casanova: I don't even see why you're sweating some singles match with a woman, crazy as she is- wasn't this meeting supposed to be about Trios Cup? I looked at the teams forming up, and so far looks like y'all would be the most dangerous trio in the whole motherfucker.
Orbit: Corndog's on it- with Purse, we're gonna be real fuckin' hard to beat.
[Uncharacteristically, Polar lets his New Orleans accent slip a bit.]
Phantasm: Yeah you right.
Purse: What're we gonna name our team?
Orbit: Huh?
Phantasm: Shit, that's a good question. Orbit and the Future Elements works, though we sound like a science-based doo-wop group...
Orbit: Yo, what about the Ice Cold Pimps?
[Purse interjects.]
Purse: -Ice Cold FUTURE Pimps!
Phantasm: Ice Cold Future Pimps sounds like a 90s techno outfit. I still kinda like it, though.
Casanova: Y'all could just call yourselves OPP- Orbit, Purse, Phantasm. Simple, but it'll sell t-shirts.
[Polar looks to Purse, who doesn't dislike the idea; Orbit shrugs.]
Orbit: You down with OPP?
Purse: Yeah, you know me!
[Polar sighs.]
Phantasm: Fuck, now I wanna listen to Naughty by Nature.
[Phantasm gets up and heads out of the ring, down toward the stereo... he looks through a crate of CDs for a minute as Orbit fixes himself another beverage and Purse tries to clean a spot off of a poker chip.]
Phantasm: Hey Jeff... think you can still drop a rhyme?
Purse: It's been a minute... but I'm down. Just like old times.
Orbit: Freestyle? I can get in on that, definitely.
Casanova: Fuck it, I ain't gonna be the only one sittin' this out. What you got, Kid?
Phantasm: Something for four dudes in a barn full of blunt haze.
[The speakers begin blaring the beat to Method Man & Redman's "4 Seasons". Immediately recognizing the beat, Purse leaps up excitedly.]
Purse: Am I Meth or Red?
[Laughing gently, Phantasm responds with confidence.]
Phantasm: Oh, you are definitely Redman, Jeff.
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[Scene: Berwick, PA; Purse's barn, astride the wrestling ring. The four men gather along the floor beside the ring apron, each waiting his turn to express himself in the modern poetic lyrical form that is hip-hop. If you don't know, you'd better ask somebody. Purse begins, spitting his rhymes with a grin a mile wide on his face.]
Yo, yo yo- Jeff Purse, straight lunatic, gotta wash my hands three times
When I'm done, I get dirty with the rhymes
I wrestle you, then Phantasm change shifts
Comin' off the top I give your head the splits
We win 'em all, if not it's a wash-out
To beat us y'all best bring your whole crew out
I'm constant with the one-two-threes
Yo, I won the World Title after smokin' some trees
When Purse serves, crowds be lickin' the plate- best believe it
Wake up with a challenge then before I sleep achieve it
Catch a Spoke through the soft of your palate
I fall asleep in a pile of Teen's Choice Ballots
Most dangerous, you in the fourth dimension
Better pay attention, we forgot to mention
I'm a world hero, you ain't in contention
Better check with Seth if yo ass get a pension
[Without hesitation, Orbit unleashes a book of street poetry.]
I'm the smoothest of the smoothest, a get money aficionado
Slap a bitch down then watch her weeble wobble
When I wrestle I'm breakin' stables down to gravel
You got the best right here, y'all ain't got to travel
In the middle of recital on the US Title
The quest to be America's champ is vital
Aftermath match, King gonna get smacked
Recognize the Mack when you think "I got jacked"
Fancy-free, that's why all your moms and sisters sending letters to me
I'm the one your girl comes see
I've been paid, been champion, been legend
Been trainin, been plannin, you know I'm winnin
Gold cup, take that shit out to Cali, get a blunt rolled up
Smoke rings and nice things, it's the life of a pimp
That and makin' your opponents walk around with a limp
That's why y'all all freeze when I step in the arena
The one true Mack, known from Maine to Pasadena
Diamonds on my wrist, fuck a bottle of Cris
I'm bout the cognac when I drop a rhyme like this
The titles I collected make a nigga wanna dance
The bitches I defeated got to ride in an ambulance
Y'all ain't live- look up in my eye; we can go another time, but I'll let you decide
Run on home, tell your momma come and blow me?
Or stay here and watch me feed your ass to my homie.
Get loose, get loose, Kid P- get loose
What the world gonna do when the Kid get loose?
[As if he'd been waiting on his cue his entire life, the Phantasm responds with emphasis.]
Phantasm: Blaze one-
Casanova: Blaze one?
Phantasm: Blaze one-
Casanova: Blaze one!
All: Blaze, blaze, blaze one!
[With a smile, Phantasm continues.]
Yo, four corners, four seasons- four bad boys with destinies
to bring the world to its knees
And while you're down there, clean that mat
That's shit's all bloody 'cause I busted out my baseball bat
New school cats all runnin' their mouth
They forgot Antarctica is way up in the dirty South
Now y'all don't want a Polar comeback, now do you?
Go straight cuckoo and flip the script wack, do you?
I do my best work stressed out and under pressure
Eye-Seven databank is where I find my buried treasure
Shit ain't changed, Phantasm still chill as ever
Still drop an Ice Cap like I'm pullin' a lever
So what you gonna do when the Twilight pass?
Spend about an hour, try to get my foot out your ass.
[As the hype man he is, Casanova takes over to mop up after his Trios Team destroyed the stage.]
Easy- OPP be spittin' the truth
Leaned over yellow bitch lookin' like crackhead's tooth
Phantasm come look me in the face, ask me
"You think Twilight gonna win or did somebody gas me?"
Corndog, the man- not myth, not legendary
I'm known to the children like my man Richard Scarry
You wanna step to this team, best know the fact:
You got your ass handed to you cause your workrate's wack
Try your underhanded shit, you gotta deal with me-
Cornelius Casanova, fuckin' I-N-C
Jeff Purse defyin' gravity with flyin' shits
So high he gives physicists logical fits
Count yourself lucky you've avoided the Mack
'Cause he's worse for a nigga than an 8-ball of crack
Casanova to the ladies, they all attract...
And my main man Polar's got my back.
[With that, we depart, leaving the four men to enjoy their evening... leaving them, in fact, to celebrate the first step toward Trios Cup victory.]
[Unification.]
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[(c) Wrestling Championship Federation 2016. Steve Orbit appears courtesy of Oakland, California, USA. All rights reserved.]
Orbit: You didn't tell me we were coming here, man- shit's changed since you been around last, man. There was a bunch of shit went down with Jonny Fly, and you know he's my half-brother-
Phantasm: This is bigger than your family troubles, man.
Orbit: That's what I'm saying, man- it's probably way past a handshake and an apology. They're bitter fuckin' enemies, man. I don't know how I feel about asking to team-
Phantasm: Water under the bridge. It has to be. This is bigger than the past. It's about the future- which means we're in the right place.
[Cornelius slowly emerges from the car carrying a white grocery bag with what appears to be at least one sandwich bag filled with marijuana. He has a joint hanging from his mouth in anticipation.]
Casanova: Man, y'all quit trippin' about the bullshit- it ain't like the guy's some kinda high-strung nutjob, right?
[Polar shrugs, then laughs.]
Phantasm: Actually, Corndog...
[As Polar begins to speak, we see Jeff Purse peek out of his barn; he waves them over.]
Phantasm: ...you'll see. He's the best high-strung nutjob I know.
[Moments later, when they get into the barn... we see a familiar poker table and four chairs set up in the ring, and the weight bench to the right of the door has been made to function as a dry bar. We hear crickets; with a smile, Jeff Purse turns on a radio and Rick James' "Superfreak" comes crashing out of the speakers. They all jump from the sonic boom; as Purse fixes the volume, we see Cornelius head to the ring and Orbit head for the bar.]
Phantasm: Now this takes me back.
Orbit: Yeah, now we're in business-
[Orbit finds the Hennessey, giving Purse an approving nod.]
Purse: Good to see you, Steve-
Orbit: Yeah, man- good to be seen. Thought shit might be weird, but-
Phantasm: -when the hell isn't it?
Purse: Man's got a point.
[Polar and Purse linger outside the ring, thinking of what to say- inside the ring, seated at the poker table, Cornelius starts shuffling the cards.]
Phantasm: ...something about this barn. We've had some pretty epic moments in here over the years, man.
Purse: And more to come, bro. I'm in.
[Polar turns to his old friend, confused.]
Phantasm: In for-
[Jeff Purse smiles.]
Purse: Trios. You had your computer call my cellphone and tell me that you and Steve were coming over to talk about Trios Cup, and I knew what that meant- I've known your ass long enough. And you can't tell Kari, 'cause she'll kill me.
[Orbit and Cornelius laugh, almost at the exact same moment.]
Orbit: Yo man, you need permission to wrestle these days?
Purse: I promised her I was taking some time off-
[Orbit enters the ring, smoothly ducking between the top and second ropes without spilling a drop of his snifter of cognac.]
Orbit: Just sayin', what kinda bitch won't let her man do his job?
[Purse sighs, continuing to defend his fiancee.]
Purse: It's not like that- it was just for the best that I take some time and mend, you know? I've got a family now; every once in a while I gotta let the bruises heal so my kids don't grow up thinking I'm a professional punching bag.
Phantasm: Easy solution there- let 'em watch you wrestle a couple matches. They'll figure out real quick that daddy dishes it out way more than he takes it.
[Purse chuckles; the former partners high-five.]
Purse: It's time to be the Future Elements again, isn't it.
[Polar smiles; one of the many reasons Purse and he made such a great team is Jeff's uncanny ability to know what Polar's thinking (a power many, including Phantasm's own wife, would pay good money to have).]
Phantasm: It's Trios Cup, and I need the best. I need the best damn tag partner I ever had.
[Phantasm reaches out a hand, grasping and clenching Purse's hand in a sign of brotherhood.]
Polar: It's time to be the Future Elements again, Jeff.
[Inside the ring, Cornelius clears his throat.]
Casanova: We playin' poker or what?
[We see that Orbit and Cornelius have already begun playing while rolling and lighting a blunt all while Purse and Polar chatted. Polar mutters a toast to Purse as they head into the ring:]
Polar: Here's to good old Pantheon Poker Nights.
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Achieving greatness first as a BMX champion and then as a WCF wrestler, he is a man who many would say has conquered apprehension and fear; those who haven't met the obsessive compulsive young father of two. He is a hero of the present; he is THE FUTURE, JEFF PURSE!
Born with genius intelligence, his parents thought he might become a doctor or a lawyer; to everyone's surprise, all the Kid wanted to do was wrestle. Breaking into the business as a teenager, he worked his way up to the WCF bigtime as Kid Phantasm. Now a father and (more importantly) a grown ass man, he has returned- he is THE POLAR PHANTASM!
Coming up on the mean streets of Oakland, California; he survived on street knowledge, a blistering backhand and one hell of a mouthpiece. He has earned his place among the greatest in WCF history, to say nothing of his standings at each years' Players Ball; those who have underestimated him have learned firsthand not to mess with "THE MACK", STEVE ORBIT!
[April has come once more, and in WCF that means one thing- Trios is coming. To speak more specifically, we're addressing the legendary WCF Trios Cup Tournament; a tournament so epic that urban legends are associated with the trophy (and its supposed curse). A tournament so epic, in fact, that winning it has driven more than a few WCF wrestlers to insanity... some would say that Kid Phantasm was among those driven mad, back in 2012 when he spent the entire tournament trying to eat pudding out of the trophy. Those people would probably be right; but that's beside the point, and besides it was kind of adorable.]
[Trios Cup is a time for unlikely alliances, resurging partnerships and dark horses becoming juggernauts. It's a time when the entire landscape of the company can be turned on its ear in a week... a show... a moment. Sure, the prizes for winning the tournament are tremendous opportunities; a World Title shot for the man or woman who gets the pinfall, a Tag Team Title shot for his or her partners. But the real prize for winning the tournament, materials like trophies and chances like title shots not withstanding, is the feeling one gets from uniting with one's friends and allies to prove you're the best in the business.]
[As we join our heroes, we find Phantasm and Orbit two thirds of the way to being a 2016 Trios Cup team; their companion, Cornelius Casanova, has opted to stay in his place at ringside and not enter the ring as their third. But Phantasm, as usual, has a plan- a plan to not just give he and Orbit some backup, but to perhaps reunite one of WCF's most dangerous tag teams. This is the story of how the Future Elements came back together... and decided to stand side by side with The Mack in his fight to bring the Trios Cup home.]
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FUTURE ELEMENTS (Volume 2) #1: Three Men, One Cup
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[Scene: Berwick, PA; Purse's farm, barn interior. Specifically, we're now in the wrestling ring at a poker table. The game is at a lull seemingly; a radio in background is playing Hall and Oates' "Family Man" though no one seems to notice. The other three wrestlers seem amid laughing fits; we quickly realize everyone is listening to Steve Orbit tell a story from his days in Oakland.]
Orbit: -man, there was this one bitch I knew, bitch named Bonnie... we all called her Bulletproof. White ho, got shot three different times and still out there hoin'.
Phantasm: Fuck a five-dollar whore, she might as well call herself a "fifty cent" ho at that point-
Orbit: Yeah, Fifty kinda looks like this bitch nowadays actually. Homegirl was hardcore, though- last time she got shot, she was out on the street turning tricks within *two days* of getting lit up. Bandages all on her shit and everything.
Purse: Ugh- who would fuck that? Seriously?
Orbit: Man, somebody out there always low bottom enough to fuck a bitch like that.
[Orbit antes up; to his right, Purse does the same.]
Casanova: Was she fine at least?
[Cornelius tosses a few chips into the pot; to his right, Polar eyes his hand suspiciously.]
Orbit: Uh, she was- about ten years and three shootings ago, herd?
Casanova: Ouch.
Orbit: Girl was so dumb she thought 'judo' was what they make bagels out of.
[They all laugh; song on the radio changes to Black Crowes' "Remedy".]
Purse: Alright, I got one-
[With a slight laugh, Purse attempts to get himself in 'story-telling mode'; it is clear by his level of motor skill and abhorrent memory, Purse is obviously baked.]
Purse: So there was this guy I knew named Jacques who lost a leg in a bicycle accident back in the day... back in my BMX days, right?
Phantasm: Yeah? How'd that happen?
Purse: Well- ok, let me start back at- wait, was that him or Marty? No, wait, I got it, check it out. So this guy's dad was a farmer, right? So we were out on his land, doing jumps off this grass mound he had; oh wait, so there was a tractor, right? But the tractor was broken. At least we thought the tractor was broken- wait, maybe that was Marty's place.
[Cornelius blows a bit of air out the side of his mouth.]
Casanova: Man, while you get that shit straight- it's your bet.
Purse: Oh, oh yeah.
[Purse checks his cards; he checks them again. He checks them a third time.]
Purse: Raise twenty.
[He tosses a pair of chips into the pot; Polar folds.]
Casanova: You out again? Damn, P, that's like six hands straight.
Orbit: You know you gotta play to win, right playa?
[Polar just shakes his head.]
Phantasm: Didn't like my odds.
[Orbit raises; Casanova soon folds, leaving Purse and Orbit in.]
Purse: Call. Pair of Jacks.
Orbit: Ah, shit-
[He drops his cards to the table, revealing a pair of queens.]
Orbit: I just brought these two bitches.
[Orbit laughs as he collects the pot; Purse reaches over in front of Cornelius, picking up a blunt from the pile of them atop the felt table.]
Purse: Fuck it; I can start Patrick's college fund again later. Your deal, Orbit.
[Purse lights the blunt, taking a huge puff and passing it as he chokes himself practically under the table. Steve begins dealing as Cornelius laughs at Purse's purpling countenance.]
Purse: Shit- smooth, right? Hits like the ground coming up at you.
Orbit: Yeah, that's that Cali shit I brought-
Casanova: -yeah, that shit's the truth. I ain't had anything that dank since that time I went down on a French chick.
Phantasm: Oh god, that's gotta be like eating a hairy sponge made out of sourdough.
[Polar tosses in a blind, as does Casanova; they all look at their cards, each placing small bets. We get back around to the Phantasm; he looks to the others to see them all awaiting his fold.]
Phantasm: I'll see the ten and raise thirty.
[Eyebrows perk up; as if wanting to see what Polar's holding, everyone places their bets. Once more, Polar raises; this time, however, he raises by two hundred.]
Orbit: Fold.
Casanova: Yeah, I'm out-
Purse: I'm not touching that.
Orbit: You better have some serious shit, man.
[They lay out their cards; absolutely everyone at the table could've beaten Polar's high-card nine.]
Orbit: You sneaky mother fucker.
[Phantasm shakes his head.]
Phantasm: I'm not sneaky, I'm cunning.
[Cornelius laughs, then prods the Phantasm regarding his upcoming in-ring challenge.]
Casanova: What do you call Sarah Twilight, then?
[Without hesitation, Polar gives a one-word answer.]
Phantasm: Devious.
Purse: Oh, I'd go way further than that- she came within inches of ruining my life. She played me like a dime store paddleball; smacked my heart around, then threw me away after I'd lost the respect of everyone I cared about.
Orbit: Yeah, didn't you almost marry that bitch?
Purse: No, I was- just- fuck you, alright Steve?
[Orbit laughs at Purse's frustration.]
Orbit: Just fuckin' with you, man. It's a common square problem, gettin' your head fucked up by pussy- probably seems a lot funnier from a mack's point of view.
Phantasm: Y'all remember Cryogenix, right? Well, the thing I remember the most from when we started all that up was that I'd come back to a WCF where everyone really liked Sarah Twilight despite her being... well, you know. Sarah Twilight. Shit was surreal as hell. Like I'd entered another reality where black is white, up is down and Sarah Twilight is a decent human being to people.
Casanova: Yeah, I got lost on that shit too- I mean, heel-face turns are a thing, but how you gonna put a smiling face on the fuckin' devil and sell that shit at church?
Orbit: For real.
Phantasm: It's a working theory here, but I'm pretty sure that some bitches are just the evil kind of crazy. I mean, we all know bitches are crazy-
Casanova: Oh yeah-
[Purse checks to make sure his fiancee hasn't joined them in the barn before agreeing.]
Purse: Obviously.
Phantasm: But some bitches are 'drown your children' kinda crazy. Thus explaining Twilight- if she'd let someone get close enough to mate with her before she ate their heads off like a praying mantis, she'd then likely sacrifice her children in some sort of blood ritual or just put their heads in an oven like a Grimm's fairy tale murderer. Somewhere out there is a mountain of her fallen foes, many tricked and betrayed; it's a mountain that she once again wants to climb and reign terror on the company from above.
[The others contemplate Polar's theory; song in background changes to Led Zeppelin's "Four Sticks".]
Phantasm: I told myself a long time ago I'd probably have to be the one to take her down, especially once I saw how relentlessly she came after Fly-
[Purse growls a bit; Orbit seems unnerved at the possible shift in topic, but Polar continues taking the awkward moment with him.]
Phantasm: -I knew she wouldn't be stopped so easily. At least we're finally at a time in WCF where she doesn't have any strings to pull, any administrative cards up her sleeve; she can't pull rank to avoid losing anymore. I'm likely to get as close to a fair fight out of Twilight as someone as shady as she can participate in.
Casanova: Man, I read some crazy shit on the web about Twilight-
Orbit: Those pics are fakes, man-
Phantasm: -yeah, I can confirm that. We circulated those fakes about four years ago*.
(* - all, somehow, part of a plan to get Seth Lerch out of prison! Check out Breakout Kings of the Ring #1-5 for details... and one hell of an adventure. -B)
Casanova: One site says she's an alien, another place says they've got testimonials from like eighty dudes that she's a secret nymphomaniac. Infowars.com says she's been replaced - more than once - by 'new' Sarah Twilights like the bitch is a member of Menudo or some shit.
Orbit: I don't buy that nympho shit- seriously, the bitch looks like she hasn't gotten a good fuck since she learned how to fight off Daddy.
Phantasm: Straight up, none of that's real- homegirl isn't some sort of otherworldly power; she's just a really persuasive, really angry woman who's totally empty on the inside. I see it. Anytime I look at her, I just... see it. She's like a husk.
Purse: The shine in those eyes is a disguise... if you see past that, it's just darkness in there.
Phantasm: I mean, I believe that bad people can choose to do good, and become good people in turn... with a few exceptions. And that woman is one of those exceptions.
Casanova: I don't even see why you're sweating some singles match with a woman, crazy as she is- wasn't this meeting supposed to be about Trios Cup? I looked at the teams forming up, and so far looks like y'all would be the most dangerous trio in the whole motherfucker.
Orbit: Corndog's on it- with Purse, we're gonna be real fuckin' hard to beat.
[Uncharacteristically, Polar lets his New Orleans accent slip a bit.]
Phantasm: Yeah you right.
Purse: What're we gonna name our team?
Orbit: Huh?
Phantasm: Shit, that's a good question. Orbit and the Future Elements works, though we sound like a science-based doo-wop group...
Orbit: Yo, what about the Ice Cold Pimps?
[Purse interjects.]
Purse: -Ice Cold FUTURE Pimps!
Phantasm: Ice Cold Future Pimps sounds like a 90s techno outfit. I still kinda like it, though.
Casanova: Y'all could just call yourselves OPP- Orbit, Purse, Phantasm. Simple, but it'll sell t-shirts.
[Polar looks to Purse, who doesn't dislike the idea; Orbit shrugs.]
Orbit: You down with OPP?
Purse: Yeah, you know me!
[Polar sighs.]
Phantasm: Fuck, now I wanna listen to Naughty by Nature.
[Phantasm gets up and heads out of the ring, down toward the stereo... he looks through a crate of CDs for a minute as Orbit fixes himself another beverage and Purse tries to clean a spot off of a poker chip.]
Phantasm: Hey Jeff... think you can still drop a rhyme?
Purse: It's been a minute... but I'm down. Just like old times.
Orbit: Freestyle? I can get in on that, definitely.
Casanova: Fuck it, I ain't gonna be the only one sittin' this out. What you got, Kid?
Phantasm: Something for four dudes in a barn full of blunt haze.
[The speakers begin blaring the beat to Method Man & Redman's "4 Seasons". Immediately recognizing the beat, Purse leaps up excitedly.]
Purse: Am I Meth or Red?
[Laughing gently, Phantasm responds with confidence.]
Phantasm: Oh, you are definitely Redman, Jeff.
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[Scene: Berwick, PA; Purse's barn, astride the wrestling ring. The four men gather along the floor beside the ring apron, each waiting his turn to express himself in the modern poetic lyrical form that is hip-hop. If you don't know, you'd better ask somebody. Purse begins, spitting his rhymes with a grin a mile wide on his face.]
Yo, yo yo- Jeff Purse, straight lunatic, gotta wash my hands three times
When I'm done, I get dirty with the rhymes
I wrestle you, then Phantasm change shifts
Comin' off the top I give your head the splits
We win 'em all, if not it's a wash-out
To beat us y'all best bring your whole crew out
I'm constant with the one-two-threes
Yo, I won the World Title after smokin' some trees
When Purse serves, crowds be lickin' the plate- best believe it
Wake up with a challenge then before I sleep achieve it
Catch a Spoke through the soft of your palate
I fall asleep in a pile of Teen's Choice Ballots
Most dangerous, you in the fourth dimension
Better pay attention, we forgot to mention
I'm a world hero, you ain't in contention
Better check with Seth if yo ass get a pension
[Without hesitation, Orbit unleashes a book of street poetry.]
I'm the smoothest of the smoothest, a get money aficionado
Slap a bitch down then watch her weeble wobble
When I wrestle I'm breakin' stables down to gravel
You got the best right here, y'all ain't got to travel
In the middle of recital on the US Title
The quest to be America's champ is vital
Aftermath match, King gonna get smacked
Recognize the Mack when you think "I got jacked"
Fancy-free, that's why all your moms and sisters sending letters to me
I'm the one your girl comes see
I've been paid, been champion, been legend
Been trainin, been plannin, you know I'm winnin
Gold cup, take that shit out to Cali, get a blunt rolled up
Smoke rings and nice things, it's the life of a pimp
That and makin' your opponents walk around with a limp
That's why y'all all freeze when I step in the arena
The one true Mack, known from Maine to Pasadena
Diamonds on my wrist, fuck a bottle of Cris
I'm bout the cognac when I drop a rhyme like this
The titles I collected make a nigga wanna dance
The bitches I defeated got to ride in an ambulance
Y'all ain't live- look up in my eye; we can go another time, but I'll let you decide
Run on home, tell your momma come and blow me?
Or stay here and watch me feed your ass to my homie.
Get loose, get loose, Kid P- get loose
What the world gonna do when the Kid get loose?
[As if he'd been waiting on his cue his entire life, the Phantasm responds with emphasis.]
Phantasm: Blaze one-
Casanova: Blaze one?
Phantasm: Blaze one-
Casanova: Blaze one!
All: Blaze, blaze, blaze one!
[With a smile, Phantasm continues.]
Yo, four corners, four seasons- four bad boys with destinies
to bring the world to its knees
And while you're down there, clean that mat
That's shit's all bloody 'cause I busted out my baseball bat
New school cats all runnin' their mouth
They forgot Antarctica is way up in the dirty South
Now y'all don't want a Polar comeback, now do you?
Go straight cuckoo and flip the script wack, do you?
I do my best work stressed out and under pressure
Eye-Seven databank is where I find my buried treasure
Shit ain't changed, Phantasm still chill as ever
Still drop an Ice Cap like I'm pullin' a lever
So what you gonna do when the Twilight pass?
Spend about an hour, try to get my foot out your ass.
[As the hype man he is, Casanova takes over to mop up after his Trios Team destroyed the stage.]
Easy- OPP be spittin' the truth
Leaned over yellow bitch lookin' like crackhead's tooth
Phantasm come look me in the face, ask me
"You think Twilight gonna win or did somebody gas me?"
Corndog, the man- not myth, not legendary
I'm known to the children like my man Richard Scarry
You wanna step to this team, best know the fact:
You got your ass handed to you cause your workrate's wack
Try your underhanded shit, you gotta deal with me-
Cornelius Casanova, fuckin' I-N-C
Jeff Purse defyin' gravity with flyin' shits
So high he gives physicists logical fits
Count yourself lucky you've avoided the Mack
'Cause he's worse for a nigga than an 8-ball of crack
Casanova to the ladies, they all attract...
And my main man Polar's got my back.
[With that, we depart, leaving the four men to enjoy their evening... leaving them, in fact, to celebrate the first step toward Trios Cup victory.]
[Unification.]
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[(c) Wrestling Championship Federation 2016. Steve Orbit appears courtesy of Oakland, California, USA. All rights reserved.]
Win-loss record: fairly epic
