Bow Before No Man

[Thomas Uriel Bates]

Bow Before No Man

Scene I “War”
Hell’s Kitchen – New York, New York

Hell’s a mild climate. This is Hell’s Kitchen.

Considered even today to be one of the most dangerous parts of New York City, Hell’s Kitchen has always had some history. Murders, rapes, burglaries, theft, felony assaults, gang wars, all are common occurrences here in Hell’s Kitchen. Not too far from here was Times Square, Bryant Park, the Empire State Building, all the sites for the tourists, all ripe for the picking. Yet so close to such wonderful sites, is the opening of Hell itself.

Of course, it could get better. It could improve any day now, and it has been improving. Places all over New York City have been dragged up from the deepest pits and brought into the light of civilization. Even Five Points was now a decent place. It was only a matter of time before Hell’s Kitchen received the same fate.

That time would not be today of course. Today we have something unique, even for this place. Today, we have, in one of the dark back alleys, WCF World Champion Thomas Uriel Bates. He is not in his usual three-piece-suits, nor is he posed in some dignified manner smoking on a pipe or having a cigar. We don’t see him deep in thought, or in careful consideration. No, we see something we rarely see in the Mountain of WCF.

We see welcomed chaos. His long sleeved Henley shirt is torn in several spots, and the white fabric stained with crimson. He holds a metal trash can in one hand, a literal kitchen sink in another, and wears a smile upon his face.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Finally, we’re getting right down to it!

Surrounding the giant we find several other men, of various sizes and builds. Some are holding weapons of their own, others are simply bare fisted. All of them show some signs of a fight, evidence that the mountain is toying with them.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Come on!

Two attackers approach with knives pointed out. Bates quickly swings the trash can, and knocks both of them against the building wall. Another approaches with a pipe, but Bates smashes the kitchen sink over his head. Our giant laughs as the attackers consider their next move.

Thomas Uriel Bates: You think you can just sneak up behind me and take me out? You think you can just show up out of nowhere and attack with weapons drawn and I wouldn’t be able to stand tall?

Three attackers jump on his back, trying to pull the giant down as they hit him with various weapons. Brass knuckles, chains, none of these hold effect. Instead, Bates simply jumps backwards, sandwiching the attackers between his back, and the wall.

A new attacker steps forward with a baseball bat. He steps forward and swings at Bates’ head. The bat is caught by his massive hand, and the attacker is pulled forward, right into a belly to belly suplex, sending the attacker into a group of his friends. Our giant stands again, laughing.

Thomas Uriel Bates: This is fun boys, don’t let up.

The attackers have enough, and all scatter as Bates stands around as if wanting more. Instead, he is left alone; just Thomas Uriel Bates and a not so well hidden camera. Bates stares at it, and instantly notes the WCF logo on the side. Bates chuckles, and simply shakes his head.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Really Seth? Did you send these clowns after me? Payback for destroying your Family? Trying to soften me up for Corey? Wanting to make sure that I don’t even make it to the ring on Sunday, so that you can just hand the belt over to Corey Black without him having to embarrass himself in the ring again?

Bates laughs, as he finds a bench and sits down. He continues to stare up at the camera, lodged between the steps and the rails of the fire escape.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Doesn’t matter now, does it? Here we are. Only a few days away from War Fifteen. Only a few days before I get my revenge on Corey Black for his relentless and cowardly attacks against me. Only a few more days before I finally get my hands around Corey Black’s neck.

Bates leans back, and breathes deeply.

Thomas Uriel Bates: So the week before last, Corey Black interfered and cost me my match. The week before that, you sent me to the hospital after hitting me with a Battering Ram. A Battering Ram, Corey, and yet I still came down to that ring the week after and fought my match. The week before that, you tried to attack me and I sent you flying through the air with my Boot, a boot you’ve been trying to imitate ever since.

That’s the thing about you, Corey. You have so much anger, so much resentment against me. For what, exactly? Not losing to you last year? You really hold that long of a grudge against me, simply because you couldn’t beat me? Of course you do, Corey. After all, you crown yourself the King of All Wrestlers, but the fact that there’s one wrestler on this roster you haven’t beaten makes that crown of yours all one big lie, doesn’t it?

Oh no, you think you’re better than that though, right? In your mind all you can see is me going around talking about how you couldn’t get the job done, but the reality is, Corey, I moved on. Until recently, I hadn’t even thought about it. Don’t get me wrong, Corey, it is an achievement to be the one guy that has never lost to Corey Black, but that’s not the highlight of my career. I don’t go around boasting about it to everyone, and in fact I hadn’t even mentioned it until you brought it up.

Corey, I know it was a defining moment for you. It was a defining moment for me when I first stepped in the ring with you in the Trio’s Cup, and walked away with the Trios Championship. That was the defining moment for me, knowing that I had faced the gauntlet of superstars and legends, and walked away victoriously.

Yet, that draw just hanged over your head, didn’t it? For over a year you thought about it. For over a year you’ve been building up that anger, that resentment. For over a year you’ve wanted revenge against me for simply not losing to you in a singles match. If this is what it’s like for a draw, Corey, what will it be like when I pin you for a victory this Sunday?

Are you going to revel on it for another year? Are you going to fall apart and become something even more dark and twisted than Creeping Death? Are you going to come back and try to challenge me for another match years down the road? What will it be then, Corey? Surely a Deathmatch won’t be good enough, should it be a Duel? Should we move out ten paces and turn around with pistols drawn? Should we grab swords and see who’s the better swordsman? Are you that eager to actually die in the ring?

I don’t want to kill you in that ring, Corey. I don’t want to be the one that puts you in the ground. Don’t make me be that person, Corey. You want a match, that’s fine. I had no problems giving you that match, but you want to make this personal? You want to make this some mission of yours to set right a perceived wrong? You want to destroy me, then I will make sure to destroy you.

Bates stands up, and stretches his arms out in front of the camera.

Thomas Uriel Bates: So here I am, Corey! Here I am Creeping Death! Attack me with your cowardly weapons, attack me from the shadows; I’ll still be here! I’m still standing, Corey, and that is what infuriates you. I have stood up to the King of All Wrestlers, and I refuse to bow before him. I stand tall and defiant, and that angers you!

Bates lowers his arms and smiles at the camera.

Thomas Uriel Bates: That scares you.

Bates laughs as he walks away from the camera, leaving the WCF property to undoubtedly be stolen and be found in some Pawn Shop in the days ahead. This was after all, Hell’s Kitchen.

Scene II “The Invaders”
Intersection of Worth & Baxter Streets, the former “Five Points” – New York, New York

So much blood was once spilt right here on these very streets, Worth and Baxter, as well as the missing streets long paved over and forgotten by progress. So many dead rabbits laid across these once five points. The Roach Guards, the Bowery Boys, the Kerryonians, Anti-Abolitionist Riots, Draft Riots; so much blood flooded these streets.

Just as blood would flood the floors of Madison Square Garden come Sunday. Both of the WCF Loyalists, and of the Invaders made up of former members looking to jump in to a contendership match without working their way up like everyone else on the roster. This fight would be brutal, and the Mountain of WCF would have to watch it from the sidelines.

What better place to discuss his thoughts on one of the WCF’s biggest moments of the year? This was the scene of nearly all riots in New York City in the Nineteenth Century. This is the slums. This is the exact location that civilization ceased to exist, and that violence and corruption ran rampant. This is the place where Wars happen. This was the perfect place to discuss the topics of today.

So here is our resident giant, the Mountain of WCF; Thomas Uriel Bates. He stands at the corner of these two roads, watching the traffic pass by, and perhaps even imagining the chaos that once reigned supreme under these paved roads, and new buildings.

The WCF Camera Drone crossed the street, above the traffic as it approached Bates. For his part, he remained where he was. His arms crossed, and a light scowl across his face. Something didn’t sit right with this giant, and he was about to let the world know.

Thomas Uriel Bates: We are at War.

He let those words sink in a moment, before continuing.

Thomas Uriel Bates: We have finally arrived at War Fifteen. All of the WCF has prepared for this match, all studying up on their opponents, figuring out their weak points, figuring out strategy. All of them working towards the goal of winning War and coming after the WCF World Championship, which I currently hold. Fifty or so men and women will enter that ring to tear each other apart in one of the biggest War events in WCF history.

This is a chance for so many WCF superstars to shine. CJ Phoenix could bypass the entire Alpha Championship and face me at One for the World title. Kevin Bishop could finally earn, in Seth’s eyes at least, his rightful contendership for the World title. Jordan Ciserano could prove to everyone else what he already showed me in the ring, that he’s ready to step up to the Main Event and dominate this ring like so many others have before him. Psychopomp, Tom-O-Hawk, even Captain WCF, could pull themselves out of obscurity and show us all that they are not to be taken lightly. Henry Spearman could even pull off the impossible and enter first at War, and come out beaten, broken, blooded, but victorious.

All of these competitors deserve to be here. Zero Tolerance against Kevin Bishop’s Brotherhood. Adrian Archer, Cliff of Doom, Damian Kaine, Dion Necurat, even Lilith, all deserve to be in that ring. Gemini Battle looking to redeem himself and finally come for me at One. This, people, is a match worth seeing. So many stories intermixing, so many feuds being fought, so many battles to be won, the WCF will be the battleground of battlegrounds at War Fifteen!

War is one of the biggest matches of the year, which brings me to the problem. Recently there has been some activity from former members of the WCF, the very people who helped cause, and then left after the Mexico Incident. Johnny Rabid showed up, soon followed by Jared Holmes, Wade Moore, Joey Flash, Vengeance, and even Jay Omega. No telling how many more of these people will show up, or even if they will actually take part of war, but if I’d take a guess; we’re looking at a full scale invasion.

These people want to come back and fight at War. They left, hell they were a large part of what caused the Mexico Incident in the first place, and yet here they are wanting to crawl back and rejoin the WCF for only one, maybe two matches. They’re trying to push out all the true WCF superstars and make a mockery of everything the WCF has accomplished since they left.

Some of them even left, and started their own promotion. They have their own titles, their own shows, their own pay-per-views. They’re supposed to have their own stories, their own path to professional wrestling greatness, but what do we see here? We see these guys coming back wanting to take part in the WCF once more. They want to pretend that they come here demanding their entry, but everyone knows they came to Seth crawling on their hands and knees begging to rejoin, to prove themselves still relevant in the greatest wrestling promotion in the world.

Seth being the world famous drunk he is, decides to let them back in with their one, maybe two matches. He doesn’t realize that these people don’t even deserve to be here. Sure each one of them has done something in the past to make themselves worthy, or at least most of them. Some competed in Wars past, and some are even former Champions. Some of these names have even dominated the WCF scene at one point or another. Hell, Jay Omega won last year’s War.

So why don’t they deserve to be here? It’s simple really; they’re not WCF. They’re not out here week after week pushing themselves to the limit as they climb the ladder of success. They’re not out there night after night putting on the greatest show in the world for the WCF Galaxy. They’re not out there winning matches, ending feuds, competing in tournaments or battle royals. They are not CJ Phoenix proving himself the true Alpha Champion. They are not Gemini Battle week after week putting that Television Championship on the line. They are not Kevin Bishop earning the right to call himself the People’s Champion. They’re not Teddy Blaze tearing apart the web for the Internet Championship. They’re not Tom-O-Hawk or Captain WCF struggling night after night to make it to the shows and prove why they are the Tag Team Champions even with some of the best tag teams in the business breathing down their necks.

No, Joey Flash, Jay Omega, Beach Krew, none of them deserve to be here. Their accomplishments in the past are merely that; accomplishments in the past. They hold no weight today, not with this current crop of superstars. People like Adrian Archer, Cliff of Doom, Damian Kaine, Dion Necurat, Mikey eXtreme, even Adam Young, they are the WCF. They are the Wrestling Championship Federation, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit by as a bunch of punks who tore this federation down come back to wreak havoc once more.

I am the WCF World Champion, and as Champion I will defend against the invading hordes that seek to destroy the very company I love. I will fight them with every breath in my body, with every fiber of my being. I will stand against the tide even at the cost of my own life. I know the true WCF roster will do the same, and that is why I am certain that no matter if it is fifty invaders, or just one; the real WCF will persevere.

With that, our Champion is finished. He turns slightly, and begins walking down Baxter Street, heading off to some other destination. He had said what he came to say. He was not a participant in this year’s War, but he was heavily invested in it. He wants to face someone deserving, someone who has committed to the path and has fought his way to get where he is. He was looking for a true competitor, and only the WCF could provide such, not the people who left us.

Scene III “Battle of the Black”
Broadway Stages – New York, New York

Presented before you; Thomas Uriel Bates, WCF’s strongest man, and the current WCF World Champion. His face, slightly right of center in the screen, offers a stark contrast to the complete darkness of the background. There is no scenery here, save for that which is in his eyes, which burns hotter than a blacksmith’s furnace. They burn through the windows of his very soul with the fire of a thousand suns. Steam emits from his nostrils with every breath that he takes. His words speak as if spoken by some hungry dragon, a soft whisper yet fierce growl in waiting.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Corey Black.

His words hang in the air like the dancing smoke of one of our giant’s cigars.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Creeping Death.

Our mountain considers his every word, yet passionately speaks like that of a volcano eagerly awaiting eruption.

Thomas Uriel Bates: For the past few weeks you have made it your mission to come out and attack me. To try to weaken me for our upcoming match, or to try to prove some point you think you need to make. You have blind-sided me. You have interfered and cost me a match. You have even sent me to the hospital thanks to the use of weapons. Corey Black, or Creeping Death, with these actions you have only proven one thing to me.

The glowing embers of his eyes stare straight into the camera.

Thomas Uriel Bates: You are a coward.

He moves to the center of the screen, keeping his burning eyes fixed on Corey Black, via the camera.

Thomas Uriel Bates: You claim that I’m nothing, that I haven’t accomplished anything in this company, and that it is simply some fluke that I have this belt. Yet every single week you made it a point to come out here and attack me, to try to weaken me for our match. You are afraid, Corey, to face me at my fullest strength because deep down you know what your heart dares not admit; that I am better than you.

You despise me. One year ago you came back with other former Pantheon members, and thought that you would dominate the scene. You believed that you would be victorious in the Trio’s Cup Tournament, and you felt that Corey Black would prove that he has not passed his prime, that he is worthy of holding the title even today. You thought you would prove that you are not irrelevant.

Then I beat you. My team beat your team. You had every right to be confident in your assured success in the tournament, after all you were teamed up with Steve Orbit and Jonny Fly, of course you were sure to win. You didn’t, and along with George “Gonzo” Murdock and Gemini Battle, I defeated you and walked away the first ever WCF Trios Champion.

Oh, but it wasn’t just the title. Here we were, rookies compared to you, and we beat you. My first year in any wrestling promotion even, and yet it was my team that walked away with those shiny new belts. More so, I continued to hold on to my Television title, even though every single one of you gunned for it. You wanted it so bad, and you thought you would easily take it from me.

No one could match you, or so you thought. Yet I stood in your way, Corey. I stopped you. Pantheon did not stand triumphant in that ring in Mexico, it was the Dark Riders Gang. It was me, Corey, not you. Oh how that rode all over you. How that ate away at your very soul. How that angered you. Oh, how that embarrassed you.

If I’m so mediocre as you claimed, if the Dark Riders Gang was nothing more than a fly by night group compared to Pantheon, then what did that make you when we won? If I was nothing, then what did that make Corey Black? Just what is less than nothing, Corey? I know you felt that way.

You were so confident that you could destroy me. That it must have been a fluke that we won. It must have been Gemini and Gonzo that really won, and that I was simply the weakest link. So you demanded a match against me. What happened there, Corey? Did you beat this up and coming rookie? Did you crush my hopes of victory, or even stopped me from advancing further up the card? No, you didn’t. You couldn’t beat me even in a singles match, Corey. To be fair, I didn’t beat you either, but I never once thought you were mediocre, now did I? We came to a draw, two giants standing in the ring and neither one of us walks away victorious, or in defeat.

He reigns in his raging spirit, taking his eyes off the camera and staring into the darkness.

Thomas Uriel Bates: You know, Corey, you once said that it’s your destiny to pass the torch in glorious battle. You don’t really mean that though, do you? You don’t want to pass the torch, because no one will ever be worthy enough for you, isn’t that right? Even if someone beats you down, takes the crown from your mangled head, you still will not give them that torch.

He turns his eyes back to the camera, back to Corey Black.

Thomas Uriel Bates: I didn’t beat you then, Corey, but I destroyed you. I took so much from you that when we both faced Howard Black for that Television Championship, you couldn’t even mount an offense. Oh, but that’s okay, you had another shot at me didn’t you? Of course, you couldn’t finish that either, and I walked out of the Ultimate Ninth Battle Royal with my ticket to Ultimate Showdown.

Corey, you think you’re so much better than me, yet every time we meet in that ring you cannot beat me, and only once did you come to a draw. I’m not bragging here, Corey, no I’m establishing our history here in the WCF. I’m refuting your claim that I’m mediocre, that I don’t deserve to be in the Main Event. My skill isn’t in question, Corey, unless yours is as well.

Yes, I lost to Bobby Cairo for my first World Championship. It was also my sixth match ever, and only my second singles match. Yet even though I lost, I still showed my strength. I still showed that I will get there soon enough. The next time I faced Bobby Cairo in the ring, I walked away still holding my Television title and advancing in the Trio’s Cup Tournament.

Yes, I lost to Dune in the Ultimate Showdown match. Many other great champions lost that match, including Jonny Fly, Jay Omega, Kaz Mazy, Mikey eXtreme, and so much more. Yet who was it that stood the longest against Dune? Who was it that fought him to the bitter end, nearly coming out ahead several times? Who was it, Corey, that was mere seconds away from defeating Dune? It was me. That’s why I faced him again at Revenge. Yes, after another close match he came out on top once again. Why wouldn’t he have? He was at the top of his game. He deserved that win.

When I came back and fought in yet another Ultimate Showdown match, yes I lost to Gemini Battle. Again I came in second. I eliminated the last two competitors before me, and Gemini came in behind me and took full advantage. He waited to strike at the right time, and he rightfully won the Ultimate Showdown match. We faced each other again, and I was the one that walked away from the match with the World title in my hand. I walked away victorious. I became the WCF World Champion.

Corey, I didn’t just run into this company and fight a bunch of nobodies. I fought some of the best superstars on our roster today. I fought legends. I fought hall of famers. I fought you. After all I have been through, after my struggle to the top, I have finally achieved what I came here for. I have won the WCF World Championship. I did it, Corey.

So I’ve already proven you, Odin, ZMac, and many others wrong. I have proven that I’m not just some low card guy. I’ve proven that I deserve to be at the top of the card. I’ve proven that I get to hold these titles, and I’ve proven that no matter what you throw at me, I will still be standing.

And that scares you, Corey. All of your accomplishments, all of your successes, all of the gold and silver you have collected through-out the years, all you feel is threatened by my mere existence. You think I’m here to take that torch from you against your will. You think I’m here to replace you. That I’m here to make you irrelevant.

Nothing is further from the truth Corey, I want no such thing. I don’t need you to pass some torch, because I’m already holding it. I don’t want to replace you, I’m my own person. I don’t want to be the next Corey Black, or Creeping Death. I am Thomas Uriel Bates; I am the WCF World Champion.

I am the man Corey Black has never defeated.

Our mountain continues to stare at the camera, never once turning his eyes off of Corey Black. This is the look of a man tired of cowardly games. This is the look of a man tired of the jokes, tired of the ridicule, and tired of the lies. This was the look of Thomas Uriel Bates; the Mountain of WCF.

Scene IV “Embrace the Darkness”
Per Se – Manhattan, New York

It is a classy establishment. Even the earth toned colors were full of class. The atmosphere smelled of high class food, and of course reeked of money. Fat cats and gold diggers filled nearly every seat. Hundreds of dollars spent on mere cubes of food on a mostly barren plate. A million-dollar wine glass filled only halfway with the oldest and most expensive wines.

This is not exactly the place one would expect to find the Mountain of WCF. His large frame is barely supported by the chair, and the tiny table nearly comical in size. Even more comical, is the fact that our friendly yet terrifying giant is not seated at this small table alone.

This is exactly the place one would expect to find Alexander James. His elegant pose, even while in the midst of eating flows with the place as does a three-hundred-year old wine flows through the glass of the most gluttonous drunk in the establishment.

Before them were two plates each containing a Butter Poached Nova Scotia Lobster. The meal was, small. A tiny dot on a plate in front of a very large man. Thomas Uriel Bates did not care for such an establishment, but he had been asked to attend by his uncle, the man sitting across from him.

His uncle was one of the richest men in the world, having amassed a multi-billion-dollar business empire that dealt with everything from television networks, to weapons manufacturing. It was hard to see it now, but Alexander James was one of the most dominate wrestlers of his day, and one of the darkest characters to enter the ring.

That is why Thomas Uriel Bates came. He didn’t come for the Lobster, it was pitiful and already gone. He didn’t come for the atmosphere, it made him uneasy. He didn’t come here to be seen at some fancy restaurant leading up to the Main Event at Madison Square Garden, he would rather have been seen on the streets of New York training for his match.

He needed his uncle though. Not the uncle that hands out gold bars to random people on the street on occasion, not the uncle that lets him stay at any one of his hundreds of houses across the world whenever he wanted. No, he needed the uncle that knew what it looked like to stare in the face of darkness, into the eyes of evil itself, and laugh. He needed “The Crow” Alexander James.

The Mountain of WCF has faced against darkness before. He faced the twisted and tormented soul that is Gemini Battle. He faced the empty morals of Joey Flash. He faced the wickedness of Grime. He has faced Zombies, Demons, and Monsters. He has even faced Corey Black himself. However, Thomas Uriel Bates has never faced Creeping Death. He needed to know what made him tick.

When Alexander James speaks, you can hear the pronounced drawl of his Mississippi Delta Southern Accent. Even more pronounced than the mountain’s. He speaks not of low tones, nor of elevated tones. He speaks with a restrained passion, as if forever caught in the midst of a game of chess.

Alexander James: When I speak to you about the darkness, Tommy, I speak only from my own experience. The darkness takes hold of each person in its own way. It can either cleanse a person’s soul, or it can corrupt it as it more often does. The shadows can empower you, or it can simply be a place of hiding.

Alexander James speaks while eating, and like a gentleman having eaten with knife and fork, held as if the silver was made instead with gold. Piece by piece, he ate the lobster, and savored each taste. He chose every word carefully, and never taking his eyes away from the eyes of our giant.

Alexander James: He was born into darkness, Thomas. The darkness overtook him when he killed his father, just as it had overtaken his father when he killed Corey’s brother and sister. He needed the darkness then, but it took control of him. He was the darkness, the violence and brutality that is so often in the shadows of one’s mind, brought to the forefront by his own tragedy.

It took a man pretending to be a god to suppress Creeping Death. It was Odin, with powerbombs after powerbombs, until finally Corey Black reemerged from the darkness that was Creeping Death. But even he knew that the darkness does not sleep; it never goes away.

What is it though, this darkness? It is the darkness he requires to commit violent deeds, to embrace brutality. It is his weapon, as well as his shield. Corey Black cannot handle the barbarism that may be necessary, so he embraces the darkness in order to hide away and become something else.

He embraced Creeping Death when he entered the King of the Deathmatch Tournament, but he could not contain it afterwards. Creeping Death knows a good threat when he sees one, and there is no bigger threat to his legacy than you, Thomas. Corey Black has embraced the Creeping Death to try and defeat you.

You two faced last year, you and Corey Black. Three times he faced you in the ring, and three times he did not defeat you. His Pantheon lost to your Club, and he was embarrassed. He met you to a draw, and yet he was still embarrassed. He submitted to your rival as the two of you took the loss. Never once has Corey Black pinned you to the mat for the three-count. Never once has he forced you to submit. You, Thomas, are an embarrassing reminder that Corey Black is not the greatest wrestler anymore. You remind him that he is not the King of All Wrestlers, he is not your King.

So the turmoil within his soul grows stronger, and once the Creeping Death was released he hungered for your soul, for your blood. He no longer wants to prove he can defeat you, Thomas, he wishes now to destroy you.

That is what drives him, Thomas. He has believed the stories from those of the past who believe you are unworthy, and as such he now sees himself as unworthy because he cannot defeat you. So now he will do everything in his power to end you, in order to prove himself worthy again. This Deathmatch gives him an opportunity that you do not allow him in a regular ring.

He will attack you with everything he can. He will equalize your strength, and work to cut you down to his own size. He wants to bleed you, to break you, to end you. For this he needs the Creeping Death, for Corey Black is too squeamish to do it himself. The Creeping Death wants you gone.

He listened, and his uncle made sense. Corey Black was a legend in this business, but since he couldn’t beat someone he believed to simply be a “mid-carder”, then he became embarrassed. He needed Creeping Death to even the score, to “right” what he perceived to be “wrong”.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Thank you, uncle. What do I need to do to defeat the Creeping Death?

His uncle smiled. This was always a terrifying image to the mountain as he grew up, and even now terrified him. The things that Alexander James has done, in business, in wrestling, and before, made his very look seem sinister, evil even. A necessary evil, but an evil never-the-less.

Alexander James: Embrace the Darkness.

Thomas Uriel Bates: No.

Bates has known about this darkness, and he would not fall prey to it. He knew its evil, and its corruption. Alexander for his part, seemed not shocked but mildly amused.

Alexander James: Why not?

Thomas Uriel Bates: I do not need run to the shadows to defeat Corey Black, or Creeping Death. I do not need to change who I am as a person in order to beat them. I do not need to corrupt my soul to gain a victory. I cannot, and I will not embrace any darkness.

Alexander James did not seem angry, but remained amused.

Alexander James: Then what drives you, nephew?

Bates spoke with passion in his response. He knew what drove him, and he would not falter.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Honour.

Alexander James: Wrong. It is your will that drives you. You set your goals, and you let nothing stop you. Your determination is unmatched, even in the WCF. You will climb a mountain of bodies, and even devour the world to get what you want. You will march in with your head held high, or you will crawl in on your hands and knees, blooded, torn, and broken, but you will get there.

Alexander James finishes his meal, having taken his time with such a small entrée. He used the corner of the silk napkin to lightly tough his lips.

Alexander James: You’re just like your father.

Our giant nods, and places his napkin on the table. With the meal over, he seems ready to leave. However, Alexander does not move.

Alexander James: Tell me, nephew, what is the real reason you’re assembling the WCF roster?

Bates expected this. He took a sip of his wine before answering.

Thomas Uriel Bates: If this is indeed an Invasion, as it certainly does appear to be the case, I want to make sure the WCF is ready to shut them down and prevent them from running rampant through our roster. This assembly is to prevent Beach Krew, The Sentinels, or any other collection of power hungry wolves from taking over this company. A united WCF will be unstoppable, but if they are not united then yes, any one of these groups could come in here and wipe them out. I want to make sure they’re prepared.

Second; I want all of them to be at the top of their game. To train harder, to focus harder, to fight harder than they ever have before. Some of them have far more skill than Joey Flash, Johnny Rabid, or even Jay Omega, but they need to be pushed. They’ve all heard stories about how great all of these other people were, and I want to make sure they are not intimidated, but rather inspired to do their best. After all, the winner of War will face me at One.

Alexander finally stood, followed quickly by Bates. Alexander stared at his nephew and smiled.

Alexander James: You are indeed just like your father. Do take care though. Even if you assemble the entire WCF to face off against this invasion, even if you are right and this coalition is necessary, even if you are that hero they need you to be, the knight in shiny armor; they’ll hang you for it eventually.

Bates thought deeply for a moment. There was no smile on his face, just the realization of his uncle’s prophecy, and the acceptance of it.

Thomas Uriel Bates: I know.

The two depart, leaving the high class establishment. Alexander James presumably off to run his company and make more billions of dollars, and Thomas Uriel Bates to get something to eat. At nearly seven hundred dollars for such a small meal, it clearly was not worth it to the Mountain of WCF.