The Plague takes on Frank The Tank...
Oct 8, 2016 16:27:26 GMT -5
Doc Henry, FPV, and 3 more like this
Post by Kevin Bishop on Oct 8, 2016 16:27:26 GMT -5
Crack…
Buzz…
Feed…
The screen comes to life like one of those cameras inside Osama bin Laden’s cave and sitting before the camera is Sylvester from The Brotherhood’s Freakshow. He sits with his face painted up with a big red smile, but you can tell he has a somber expression with the rest of his body. He looks at the camera, but he then quickly looks away like a scolded child who can’t make eye contact with its mother. Finally a voice breaks in from behind the camera, it’s non other than Fat Fuck Carl.
‘Okay, Sylvester… I thought this would be the perfect forum to get your input on this whole Clown Lives Matter fiasco that is sweeping the world… That and you’re the only clown I know of that would actually sit down with me… I may or may not have tried to contact Gemini Battle, but he was busy surfing Amazon for a new set of balls after his were trashed by Teddy Blaze at War… Anyway… So, can I ask you a few questions?”
Sylvester readjusts himself in his steel chair, his pin stripes on his button up shirt and pants look to be blending together with the amount of sweat pouring out from his body. Nerves are definitely a factor for the clown as that camera light blast him in the face. Sylvester raises his palm up toward the light blocking it from hitting him in the eyes.
“Is there anyway we can turn that light off? Or at least dim it?”
The light is simply pointed up ward that way the room is still lit up enough to show Sylvester’s face.
“I just gotta make sure we have you in camera frame… Is that better?”
Sylvester nods slowly and Fat Fuck Carl clears his throat with a loud hack.
“Alrighty man, let’s get this show a rolling… So Clown Lives Matter… You live by the credo that the show MUST go on, just like any good business man would that is in the entertainment industry… What kind of obstacles are you running into now?”
Sylvester looks over his shoulder and then leans a bit toward the camera.
“Truthfully… At first I thought it was a great idea for us clowns… To me it started off as some publicity stunt… It got people talking about clowns again, be it in a negative way, but controversy creates dollars… Solomon and I were raking in the money with all the local scares… Bishop gave us this second chance and it was paying off in dividends…”
Sylvester nervously looks to his right and then to his left.
“Then what happened? How did we get here?”
Sylvester clears his throat.
“Clowns started getting beat… Beaten worse than Rodney King and that’s…. No laughing matter… Believe me when I say that, because I’m a clown.”
Fat Fuck Carl chuckles on the other side of the camera.
“All seriousness though… The Clown Council was called to order and the end result was that if any of us clowns were seen out in public being caught up in illegal activities… We would get Pennywised…”
Sylvester sits completely still as if just mentioning the punishment would make it come true.
“I gotta ask Sylvester… What does it mean to get Pennywised?”
Sylvester laughs uncomfortably.
“Ah ha… First rule of fight club… There is no fight club… It’s not early enough in the day for you pull one over on me Fat Fuck Carl… If I talk about it, then the odds of it happening raises even higher… NO thank you, sir, not THIS clown… Maybe you can get it out of those juggalo fucks Zero Tolerance…”
SNAP!
Fat Fuck Carl snaps his fingers.
“That’s the other thing I want to talk to you about… Can you tell me your honest opinion about Zero Tolerance? As you know, The Brotherhood face off against them for the Trios Titles at Slam this week.”
Sylvester playfully smirks.
“Ha, you want my opinion on those wannabes? They call their little tag team The Freekshow? They don’t know the first thing about running a freakshow and they’re the punch line at all Clown Council meetings… They’re not legit clowns, at least ICP brings a level of entertainment to their name… These jack asses ramble every chance they get about nothing, not a damn thing that comes out their mouth carries any weight… The only thing they can say is that they did come into WCF as a successful unit… Nobody can take that away from them, but I saw a man tear them apart for being a rip off of the Insane Clown Posse and he wasn’t too far off… They just don’t rap or have any kind production quality to them whatsoever… They’re flat and their moments to shine is like that of a mental child getting a gold star for wiping their own ass… They picked up a new fourth man in the magnifiCUNT Bastard Adrian Archer and he stands out like a black kid with two asian parents… The only thing he has in common with the rest of Zero Tolerance is in ability to piss off everyone around him, but still not actually say anything of any importance…”
Fat Fuck Carl is rolling behind the camera with laughter.
“I’m starting to think you don’t like Zero Tolerance one bit… Why so much ire pointed their way?”
Sylvester’s face turns a bit more serious.
“Clown Lives Matter… Zero Tolerance hasn’t helped with that fore front one bit and their jackass antics are costing me MONEY… We have these stupid wannabe clowns getting capped off in the woods all around the world and we have Zero Tolerance hand delivering grade A bull shit to every person who turns their Tvs on or hope on the internet… They put together jokes without punch lines and they walk around like they own whatever place they’re in… I just can’t stand them and I really, really hope that The Brotherhood puts them in their place, so I can start running MY business again.”
Sylvester crosses his arms and sighs a bit of relief.
“Is that all the questions you had for me?”
Fat Fuck Carl stands up and walks into the frame.
“That was good stuff, but I was really hoping I was going to be able to catch your boss… He owes me a one on one, but I can’t ever catch him… I’m starting to feel like the damn Wiley Coyote…”
Sylvester rests his left palm on Carl’s shoulder.
“There, there… In due time, I’m sure Bishop will do your interview… He’s a very busy man after all…”
Carl smiles.
“You really think so?”
Sylvester starts laughing hysterically.
“HAHAHAHA HELL NO!!!”
Carl looks sad and the camera fades to black.
We open back up with The Plague dressed in a pair of black dickie shorts, a black pair of Converse, a backward black ball cap, and a black Brotherhood hoody. He sits in front of a bon fire with the rest of his brothers sitting around the fire with him. He begins to speak in a story teller type tone.
“It was a valiant effort my brothers… The Brotherhood stepped foot in that ring with a mission in mind and we did just that… We wanted to prove that we belonged even amongst the jackass clowns who want to claim gold for themselves… That’s why Seth did the only thing he thought necessary, he brought back the Trios Titles… So at Slam, Pomp, Dion, and Damian have themselves a battle of epic proportions on their hands… With as much shit that I give Zero Tolerance and Adrian Archer, they are legit competitors in the ring… They proved just as much as The Brotherhood did at War and all of us are looking to ride that wave…”
Kevin looks to Pomp who sits with a big tin of cookies, Dion sits twirling the hilt of his massive sword in his hands back in forth, and Damian sits with his eyes strongly fixated on the fire.
“Pomp you have an opportunity to prove that with every championship match you’ve earned, that this is the one that is going to be the one that pays off for you… You’re more than the ‘cookie monster’ of the WCF, inside of that man is a legit monster in that ring… Watching you compete in the deathmatch tournament, you proved there is a much more extreme side to you… A side that can be tapped into when the time truly calls for it and I tell you right now, that time is NOW…”
Kevin looks over to Dion who stops twirling his sword and looks Kevin dead in the eye.
“Dion, you are a fucking WARRIOR and every ass hole in the WCF looks at your record and they take you lightly… You need to capitalize on that shit and you need to release this fury that I know you have… You have the heart of a lion and the strong will to actually FIGHT any person who steps to you… Gold is on the line and that should be plenty of an incentive to make you step it up to that next level…”
Kevin looks to Damian, but Damian won’t look away from the fire, not even for a second.
“Damian… You are a man with a true struggle inside of you and I remember the first day I saw you… I knew it was going to tear you apart, whether you fought it or not… I see that look in your eye Damian… I know what you’re thinking about too… This is your final chance to shut Archer up… He hasn’t given you a legit chance to prove who the better man is and it kills you inside… It rips away at you… The torture is real and right now, you’re trying to measure the amount of pain you can truly take on, before you reach your tipping point… Your scales are off balance and this fight… This BATTLE is your one and only chance to level yourself OUT. Are you going to let Archer win out? Are you going to let Zero Tolerance prove their dominance?”
Kevin gets a bit more intense in his tone.
“Opportunities don’t come to the weak! Seth Lerch is looking to see what team is truly worthy to run with those Trios titles! With Pantheon stepping up, how much longer do you think it’s going to be until they come barking at our door? I hear the chatter coming from David Sanchez about how he’s the real Plague and I’m just some guy running around playing the part… So believe me when I say this, there’s going to be a time that we are going to cross paths with The Pantheon… I’d much rather you boys have those Trios Titles before we do, because with The Pantheon, it’s always going to be about proving yourself… So many accolades shared amongst the whole lot of them and we would look like mere peasants stepping with nothing to show for our efforts… I can’t stress it enough when I say, you need to take these chances that are handed to you and you need to FIGHT like you’ve never fought before… You need to maximize your minutes out there and you need show the whole WCF Galaxy why you are a member of The Brotherhood!”
Damian finally looks away from the fire and he meets Kevin’s eyes. The fire flickers off of Damian’s pupils and Kevin can sense Damian has caught every word he has spoken.
“Kevin’s right…”
Dion grips his sword and he looks over to Damian, as Pomp puts the tin of cookies down to look over to Damian.
“This IS our one opportunity! The one opportunity that all of us have been looking for! War is over, fellas and the landscape has definitely changed around here… I say it’s time we stop speaking the big game and we finally take it to those clown fucks!”
Dion jumps up with his sword in hand.
“Here HERE! FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!!!”
Pomp jumps up and he looks to Dion who stands tall with his sword and then Damian who is illuminated by the fire. He lowers his head a bit.
“Guys… I’ve been there… Hell I even fought Mr. Bishop for his title… This is your guys’ first opportunity but I have been given a lot…”
Kevin cuts Pomp off.
“You have, this is true, but you’re not in this alone, Pomp… Yes Dion and Damian have been craving this moment, but I look at you… And I see that same look that they have… Breathe it in, Pomp, because this feeling that all of you share… It’s that Brotherhood connection… You all feel that you are going to win those Trios titles… Together you feel the strength running through you and you have all of US backing you… That’s how I made it to the final four in War, because I thought of all of our brothers and sisters sitting here at camp cheering us on… When you say, For The Brotherhood, I want you to feel every single member saying it with you… Can you do that for me, Pomp?”
Pomp perks back up and a big smile crosses his lips.
“Of COURSE, Kev! FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!”
Dion pounds his right fist against his chest.
“FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!”
Damian stands in front of the fire with his hands raised high.
“FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!!!”
Kevin simply smiles as he watches his three warriors hyping themselves up for the fight of their lives and we soon fade to black.
We open back up to Kevin sitting out by the water on the edge of the peer and he is just staring out at the blackness of the water with the moon illuminating off of it. His voice soon breaks the silence.
“Franky… War proved that your note taken paid off for you… You were able to rack up 3 eliminations and you lasted for about an hour and forty nine minutes… That’s nothing to take lightly and I give you all the credit for working toward that achievement. With all this young blood that Seth has brought in, you felt that urge… That calling to bring your talents back to the WCF and to take on the new WCF recruits… If you believe you’re coming into our match with some crazy edge on me, you’re going to be abruptly surprised, because what I have been able to accomplish so far isn’t some random rookies path… You are standing in my way to continue my singles streak and on this journey to the top, there will be no man that is going to detour me… All it’s going to take is one Black Death and that bell will be signal the end… One Black Death and you’re going to realize The Plague isn’t someone to take lightly… I know you went back and watched the tapes and I know you paid close attention to War… I was a stand out along with my Brotherhood and feeling that rush of being in the final four… It was out of this world…”
Kevin shakes his head.
“I just had a heart to heart with my brothers and I spoke highly of opportunities and how we shouldn’t waste them… Ever since I got to WCF I have proven that I am not a man who wastes opportunities and walking into Sunday’s Slam, I have yet another opportunity to face… An opportunity to one up Frank Patrick Venable… I went back and I started watching tape… I saw this man SURVIVE a crucifixion match for Christ sake… If I haven’ spoke of this man’s ability to be as tough as nails… Then no words can do him justice… At first I just assumed FPV was just the normal run of a mill vet returning to prove that his past with this company was one that could easily be forgotten… But the deeper you delve into his past, you start to see a man who truly put himself through hell to entertain and to win matches… I’m starting to see why you chose me to compete against, Frank… I want the competition and you want to prove that you are just the competition that the WCF needs to revive it…”
Kevin smirks.
“I thought CJ Phoenix and I were destined to battle forever, but on paper, what’s a better match up than The Plague Kevin Bishop vs. Frank Patrick Venable? I am bringing a fight that can not be matched and I’m bringing an extra gear just in case you plan to bring the same man who was crucified… I fear no one and nothing, Franky and you will be no different… You took your notes and you saw the man before you… You’re also the kind of guy who will look at a man’s past to gauge what kind of man he is… Feel free to look back there, I have evolved over time and to survive you must constantly be changing… If you’re stagnant for too long, that’s when rigor mortis starts and when there’s no longer motion in your body… That’s when death turns its dreadful head…”
Kevin’s smirk turns into a revelation endued smile.
“That’s what brings you back, isn’t it? You were afraid if you were gone for too long that you’d die and no one would remember your name?’
Kevin pauses for a second.
“But don’t worry, Frank, because this war with The Plague is going to force everyone to remember your name… We are going to bleed… We are going to bruise… We are going to go far past any limit than any other wrestler has ever pushed you to… Cruicifixion? It’ll have nothing on the hell you are going to endure by my hands… I’m not looking to kill you, because that’s not something out of the realm of possibilities in a WCF ring… No, I just look to cause enough pain to prove a point… That point being that everything I have accomplished in the WCF wasn’t some mere fluke, but because I have EARNED IT… Sure if you look back at my up bringing it’s not hard to see why I look for some sort of approval from my peers, from the fans, and most importantly from myself… I’ve had to fight and claw my way out of the streets of New York… Every person over looked me when I held my hands out… Not a single person looked to shelter me when I was crying myself to sleep at night, wishing I could eat something or have a glass of water…”
Kevin stands up and holds his arms out showing the camp behind him.
“You see this? This is why I do what I do for my Brotherhood… I know what it was like to grow up in a world without somebody to look out for me… I only want to give them all the one thing I didn’t have growing up… Shelter… That’s it, so you’ll probably fall into the same trap as every other mother fucker who has stepped to me and that’s clinging to my ‘CULT’ persona… Look around, we are all a part of some kind of cult in this world… Some just call it CHURCH, but I’m not preaching lies to these people… They have their free will, just as I had to put Mr. Archer in his place just recently… This camp behind me, allows them to have a place to rest their heads at night… I offer them food… They all have purpose where they once were wandering aimlessly trying to hide away from the ‘IN CROWDS’ of the outside world… If you feel you know me, then you feel that you have this match already won… But so many variables can change the course of the wind… Just remember that when you feel that you’re hand is about to be raised… The Plague is going to continue to rise and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it… You can’t stop me, you can only hope to contain me… I’ll see you on Sunday, Franky…”
Kevin smirks and the camera fades out to black.
We open back up to Kevin Bishop wearing his Johnny Cash-esque attire and Karma wearing a tight form hugging white dress, they make their way down an airplane aisle way just behind Pomp, Dion, and Damian. Pomp and Damian quickly find their seats and Dion sits in a seat right behind the seats designated for The Plague and his lovely wife. Everyone finds their seats and The Plague looks back to Dion.
“If you start to snore back there, I swear, I will probably snap and kill you… So don't snore... Deal?”
Dion swallows whatever saliva that is in his throat.
“Ah ha… Yes sir…”
Kevin clings to the arm rests, showing his nerves a little shot from being on the plane. Dion taps Kevin on the shoulder soon after.
“Are you okay man? I get the snoring thing, that’s why I have my own tent… But you seem to be on pins and needles…”
Kevin shoots a look of daggers at Dion.
“Man wasn’t meant to fly… I’m not ICARUS, DION!”
Dion starts to laugh, causing Damian and Pomp to follow suit.
“You’re all ass holes!”
Karma rubs on Kevin’s hand causing him to slowly calm down.
“Babe, I know this is going to be a bumpy flight, but I need you to stay with me here… Hawaii is going to be here before you know it, just rest your eyes and relax…”
Kevin slowly lets go of the arm rests a bit and he breathes out.
“You’re right, baby…”
Kevin closes his eyes and suddenly the plan jerks as it backs up for take off. Kevin shoots up and clings to the arm rests again, causing the boys to cackle like a bunch of hyenas.
“Okay okay, this isn’t RIGHT!”
Karma holds onto Kevin’s hand tightly.
“What would Dean Winchester do?”
Kevin hyperventilates a bit.
“Dean HATES PLANES TOO!”
Karma smiles.
“Come on, Kev… Supernatural is only a show, but if this plane was full of demons, you could say Cristo and you’d probably feel better, right?”
Kevin looks to Karma and she’s smiling from ear to ear.
“You’re crazy, but I suppose that makes me feel better… Just wake me when this is over…”
Karma kisses Kevin on the cheek and he closes his eyes shut as tightly as possible. Dion, Pomp, and Dion are still howling behind him. We fade out to black as the plane hits its highest height. Next stop Hawaii… for SLAM.
Buzz…
Feed…
The screen comes to life like one of those cameras inside Osama bin Laden’s cave and sitting before the camera is Sylvester from The Brotherhood’s Freakshow. He sits with his face painted up with a big red smile, but you can tell he has a somber expression with the rest of his body. He looks at the camera, but he then quickly looks away like a scolded child who can’t make eye contact with its mother. Finally a voice breaks in from behind the camera, it’s non other than Fat Fuck Carl.
‘Okay, Sylvester… I thought this would be the perfect forum to get your input on this whole Clown Lives Matter fiasco that is sweeping the world… That and you’re the only clown I know of that would actually sit down with me… I may or may not have tried to contact Gemini Battle, but he was busy surfing Amazon for a new set of balls after his were trashed by Teddy Blaze at War… Anyway… So, can I ask you a few questions?”
Sylvester readjusts himself in his steel chair, his pin stripes on his button up shirt and pants look to be blending together with the amount of sweat pouring out from his body. Nerves are definitely a factor for the clown as that camera light blast him in the face. Sylvester raises his palm up toward the light blocking it from hitting him in the eyes.
“Is there anyway we can turn that light off? Or at least dim it?”
The light is simply pointed up ward that way the room is still lit up enough to show Sylvester’s face.
“I just gotta make sure we have you in camera frame… Is that better?”
Sylvester nods slowly and Fat Fuck Carl clears his throat with a loud hack.
“Alrighty man, let’s get this show a rolling… So Clown Lives Matter… You live by the credo that the show MUST go on, just like any good business man would that is in the entertainment industry… What kind of obstacles are you running into now?”
Sylvester looks over his shoulder and then leans a bit toward the camera.
“Truthfully… At first I thought it was a great idea for us clowns… To me it started off as some publicity stunt… It got people talking about clowns again, be it in a negative way, but controversy creates dollars… Solomon and I were raking in the money with all the local scares… Bishop gave us this second chance and it was paying off in dividends…”
Sylvester nervously looks to his right and then to his left.
“Then what happened? How did we get here?”
Sylvester clears his throat.
“Clowns started getting beat… Beaten worse than Rodney King and that’s…. No laughing matter… Believe me when I say that, because I’m a clown.”
Fat Fuck Carl chuckles on the other side of the camera.
“All seriousness though… The Clown Council was called to order and the end result was that if any of us clowns were seen out in public being caught up in illegal activities… We would get Pennywised…”
Sylvester sits completely still as if just mentioning the punishment would make it come true.
“I gotta ask Sylvester… What does it mean to get Pennywised?”
Sylvester laughs uncomfortably.
“Ah ha… First rule of fight club… There is no fight club… It’s not early enough in the day for you pull one over on me Fat Fuck Carl… If I talk about it, then the odds of it happening raises even higher… NO thank you, sir, not THIS clown… Maybe you can get it out of those juggalo fucks Zero Tolerance…”
SNAP!
Fat Fuck Carl snaps his fingers.
“That’s the other thing I want to talk to you about… Can you tell me your honest opinion about Zero Tolerance? As you know, The Brotherhood face off against them for the Trios Titles at Slam this week.”
Sylvester playfully smirks.
“Ha, you want my opinion on those wannabes? They call their little tag team The Freekshow? They don’t know the first thing about running a freakshow and they’re the punch line at all Clown Council meetings… They’re not legit clowns, at least ICP brings a level of entertainment to their name… These jack asses ramble every chance they get about nothing, not a damn thing that comes out their mouth carries any weight… The only thing they can say is that they did come into WCF as a successful unit… Nobody can take that away from them, but I saw a man tear them apart for being a rip off of the Insane Clown Posse and he wasn’t too far off… They just don’t rap or have any kind production quality to them whatsoever… They’re flat and their moments to shine is like that of a mental child getting a gold star for wiping their own ass… They picked up a new fourth man in the magnifiCUNT Bastard Adrian Archer and he stands out like a black kid with two asian parents… The only thing he has in common with the rest of Zero Tolerance is in ability to piss off everyone around him, but still not actually say anything of any importance…”
Fat Fuck Carl is rolling behind the camera with laughter.
“I’m starting to think you don’t like Zero Tolerance one bit… Why so much ire pointed their way?”
Sylvester’s face turns a bit more serious.
“Clown Lives Matter… Zero Tolerance hasn’t helped with that fore front one bit and their jackass antics are costing me MONEY… We have these stupid wannabe clowns getting capped off in the woods all around the world and we have Zero Tolerance hand delivering grade A bull shit to every person who turns their Tvs on or hope on the internet… They put together jokes without punch lines and they walk around like they own whatever place they’re in… I just can’t stand them and I really, really hope that The Brotherhood puts them in their place, so I can start running MY business again.”
Sylvester crosses his arms and sighs a bit of relief.
“Is that all the questions you had for me?”
Fat Fuck Carl stands up and walks into the frame.
“That was good stuff, but I was really hoping I was going to be able to catch your boss… He owes me a one on one, but I can’t ever catch him… I’m starting to feel like the damn Wiley Coyote…”
Sylvester rests his left palm on Carl’s shoulder.
“There, there… In due time, I’m sure Bishop will do your interview… He’s a very busy man after all…”
Carl smiles.
“You really think so?”
Sylvester starts laughing hysterically.
“HAHAHAHA HELL NO!!!”
Carl looks sad and the camera fades to black.
We open back up with The Plague dressed in a pair of black dickie shorts, a black pair of Converse, a backward black ball cap, and a black Brotherhood hoody. He sits in front of a bon fire with the rest of his brothers sitting around the fire with him. He begins to speak in a story teller type tone.
“It was a valiant effort my brothers… The Brotherhood stepped foot in that ring with a mission in mind and we did just that… We wanted to prove that we belonged even amongst the jackass clowns who want to claim gold for themselves… That’s why Seth did the only thing he thought necessary, he brought back the Trios Titles… So at Slam, Pomp, Dion, and Damian have themselves a battle of epic proportions on their hands… With as much shit that I give Zero Tolerance and Adrian Archer, they are legit competitors in the ring… They proved just as much as The Brotherhood did at War and all of us are looking to ride that wave…”
Kevin looks to Pomp who sits with a big tin of cookies, Dion sits twirling the hilt of his massive sword in his hands back in forth, and Damian sits with his eyes strongly fixated on the fire.
“Pomp you have an opportunity to prove that with every championship match you’ve earned, that this is the one that is going to be the one that pays off for you… You’re more than the ‘cookie monster’ of the WCF, inside of that man is a legit monster in that ring… Watching you compete in the deathmatch tournament, you proved there is a much more extreme side to you… A side that can be tapped into when the time truly calls for it and I tell you right now, that time is NOW…”
Kevin looks over to Dion who stops twirling his sword and looks Kevin dead in the eye.
“Dion, you are a fucking WARRIOR and every ass hole in the WCF looks at your record and they take you lightly… You need to capitalize on that shit and you need to release this fury that I know you have… You have the heart of a lion and the strong will to actually FIGHT any person who steps to you… Gold is on the line and that should be plenty of an incentive to make you step it up to that next level…”
Kevin looks to Damian, but Damian won’t look away from the fire, not even for a second.
“Damian… You are a man with a true struggle inside of you and I remember the first day I saw you… I knew it was going to tear you apart, whether you fought it or not… I see that look in your eye Damian… I know what you’re thinking about too… This is your final chance to shut Archer up… He hasn’t given you a legit chance to prove who the better man is and it kills you inside… It rips away at you… The torture is real and right now, you’re trying to measure the amount of pain you can truly take on, before you reach your tipping point… Your scales are off balance and this fight… This BATTLE is your one and only chance to level yourself OUT. Are you going to let Archer win out? Are you going to let Zero Tolerance prove their dominance?”
Kevin gets a bit more intense in his tone.
“Opportunities don’t come to the weak! Seth Lerch is looking to see what team is truly worthy to run with those Trios titles! With Pantheon stepping up, how much longer do you think it’s going to be until they come barking at our door? I hear the chatter coming from David Sanchez about how he’s the real Plague and I’m just some guy running around playing the part… So believe me when I say this, there’s going to be a time that we are going to cross paths with The Pantheon… I’d much rather you boys have those Trios Titles before we do, because with The Pantheon, it’s always going to be about proving yourself… So many accolades shared amongst the whole lot of them and we would look like mere peasants stepping with nothing to show for our efforts… I can’t stress it enough when I say, you need to take these chances that are handed to you and you need to FIGHT like you’ve never fought before… You need to maximize your minutes out there and you need show the whole WCF Galaxy why you are a member of The Brotherhood!”
Damian finally looks away from the fire and he meets Kevin’s eyes. The fire flickers off of Damian’s pupils and Kevin can sense Damian has caught every word he has spoken.
“Kevin’s right…”
Dion grips his sword and he looks over to Damian, as Pomp puts the tin of cookies down to look over to Damian.
“This IS our one opportunity! The one opportunity that all of us have been looking for! War is over, fellas and the landscape has definitely changed around here… I say it’s time we stop speaking the big game and we finally take it to those clown fucks!”
Dion jumps up with his sword in hand.
“Here HERE! FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!!!”
Pomp jumps up and he looks to Dion who stands tall with his sword and then Damian who is illuminated by the fire. He lowers his head a bit.
“Guys… I’ve been there… Hell I even fought Mr. Bishop for his title… This is your guys’ first opportunity but I have been given a lot…”
Kevin cuts Pomp off.
“You have, this is true, but you’re not in this alone, Pomp… Yes Dion and Damian have been craving this moment, but I look at you… And I see that same look that they have… Breathe it in, Pomp, because this feeling that all of you share… It’s that Brotherhood connection… You all feel that you are going to win those Trios titles… Together you feel the strength running through you and you have all of US backing you… That’s how I made it to the final four in War, because I thought of all of our brothers and sisters sitting here at camp cheering us on… When you say, For The Brotherhood, I want you to feel every single member saying it with you… Can you do that for me, Pomp?”
Pomp perks back up and a big smile crosses his lips.
“Of COURSE, Kev! FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!”
Dion pounds his right fist against his chest.
“FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!”
Damian stands in front of the fire with his hands raised high.
“FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!!!”
Kevin simply smiles as he watches his three warriors hyping themselves up for the fight of their lives and we soon fade to black.
We open back up to Kevin sitting out by the water on the edge of the peer and he is just staring out at the blackness of the water with the moon illuminating off of it. His voice soon breaks the silence.
“Franky… War proved that your note taken paid off for you… You were able to rack up 3 eliminations and you lasted for about an hour and forty nine minutes… That’s nothing to take lightly and I give you all the credit for working toward that achievement. With all this young blood that Seth has brought in, you felt that urge… That calling to bring your talents back to the WCF and to take on the new WCF recruits… If you believe you’re coming into our match with some crazy edge on me, you’re going to be abruptly surprised, because what I have been able to accomplish so far isn’t some random rookies path… You are standing in my way to continue my singles streak and on this journey to the top, there will be no man that is going to detour me… All it’s going to take is one Black Death and that bell will be signal the end… One Black Death and you’re going to realize The Plague isn’t someone to take lightly… I know you went back and watched the tapes and I know you paid close attention to War… I was a stand out along with my Brotherhood and feeling that rush of being in the final four… It was out of this world…”
Kevin shakes his head.
“I just had a heart to heart with my brothers and I spoke highly of opportunities and how we shouldn’t waste them… Ever since I got to WCF I have proven that I am not a man who wastes opportunities and walking into Sunday’s Slam, I have yet another opportunity to face… An opportunity to one up Frank Patrick Venable… I went back and I started watching tape… I saw this man SURVIVE a crucifixion match for Christ sake… If I haven’ spoke of this man’s ability to be as tough as nails… Then no words can do him justice… At first I just assumed FPV was just the normal run of a mill vet returning to prove that his past with this company was one that could easily be forgotten… But the deeper you delve into his past, you start to see a man who truly put himself through hell to entertain and to win matches… I’m starting to see why you chose me to compete against, Frank… I want the competition and you want to prove that you are just the competition that the WCF needs to revive it…”
Kevin smirks.
“I thought CJ Phoenix and I were destined to battle forever, but on paper, what’s a better match up than The Plague Kevin Bishop vs. Frank Patrick Venable? I am bringing a fight that can not be matched and I’m bringing an extra gear just in case you plan to bring the same man who was crucified… I fear no one and nothing, Franky and you will be no different… You took your notes and you saw the man before you… You’re also the kind of guy who will look at a man’s past to gauge what kind of man he is… Feel free to look back there, I have evolved over time and to survive you must constantly be changing… If you’re stagnant for too long, that’s when rigor mortis starts and when there’s no longer motion in your body… That’s when death turns its dreadful head…”
Kevin’s smirk turns into a revelation endued smile.
“That’s what brings you back, isn’t it? You were afraid if you were gone for too long that you’d die and no one would remember your name?’
Kevin pauses for a second.
“But don’t worry, Frank, because this war with The Plague is going to force everyone to remember your name… We are going to bleed… We are going to bruise… We are going to go far past any limit than any other wrestler has ever pushed you to… Cruicifixion? It’ll have nothing on the hell you are going to endure by my hands… I’m not looking to kill you, because that’s not something out of the realm of possibilities in a WCF ring… No, I just look to cause enough pain to prove a point… That point being that everything I have accomplished in the WCF wasn’t some mere fluke, but because I have EARNED IT… Sure if you look back at my up bringing it’s not hard to see why I look for some sort of approval from my peers, from the fans, and most importantly from myself… I’ve had to fight and claw my way out of the streets of New York… Every person over looked me when I held my hands out… Not a single person looked to shelter me when I was crying myself to sleep at night, wishing I could eat something or have a glass of water…”
Kevin stands up and holds his arms out showing the camp behind him.
“You see this? This is why I do what I do for my Brotherhood… I know what it was like to grow up in a world without somebody to look out for me… I only want to give them all the one thing I didn’t have growing up… Shelter… That’s it, so you’ll probably fall into the same trap as every other mother fucker who has stepped to me and that’s clinging to my ‘CULT’ persona… Look around, we are all a part of some kind of cult in this world… Some just call it CHURCH, but I’m not preaching lies to these people… They have their free will, just as I had to put Mr. Archer in his place just recently… This camp behind me, allows them to have a place to rest their heads at night… I offer them food… They all have purpose where they once were wandering aimlessly trying to hide away from the ‘IN CROWDS’ of the outside world… If you feel you know me, then you feel that you have this match already won… But so many variables can change the course of the wind… Just remember that when you feel that you’re hand is about to be raised… The Plague is going to continue to rise and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it… You can’t stop me, you can only hope to contain me… I’ll see you on Sunday, Franky…”
Kevin smirks and the camera fades out to black.
We open back up to Kevin Bishop wearing his Johnny Cash-esque attire and Karma wearing a tight form hugging white dress, they make their way down an airplane aisle way just behind Pomp, Dion, and Damian. Pomp and Damian quickly find their seats and Dion sits in a seat right behind the seats designated for The Plague and his lovely wife. Everyone finds their seats and The Plague looks back to Dion.
“If you start to snore back there, I swear, I will probably snap and kill you… So don't snore... Deal?”
Dion swallows whatever saliva that is in his throat.
“Ah ha… Yes sir…”
Kevin clings to the arm rests, showing his nerves a little shot from being on the plane. Dion taps Kevin on the shoulder soon after.
“Are you okay man? I get the snoring thing, that’s why I have my own tent… But you seem to be on pins and needles…”
Kevin shoots a look of daggers at Dion.
“Man wasn’t meant to fly… I’m not ICARUS, DION!”
Dion starts to laugh, causing Damian and Pomp to follow suit.
“You’re all ass holes!”
Karma rubs on Kevin’s hand causing him to slowly calm down.
“Babe, I know this is going to be a bumpy flight, but I need you to stay with me here… Hawaii is going to be here before you know it, just rest your eyes and relax…”
Kevin slowly lets go of the arm rests a bit and he breathes out.
“You’re right, baby…”
Kevin closes his eyes and suddenly the plan jerks as it backs up for take off. Kevin shoots up and clings to the arm rests again, causing the boys to cackle like a bunch of hyenas.
“Okay okay, this isn’t RIGHT!”
Karma holds onto Kevin’s hand tightly.
“What would Dean Winchester do?”
Kevin hyperventilates a bit.
“Dean HATES PLANES TOO!”
Karma smiles.
“Come on, Kev… Supernatural is only a show, but if this plane was full of demons, you could say Cristo and you’d probably feel better, right?”
Kevin looks to Karma and she’s smiling from ear to ear.
“You’re crazy, but I suppose that makes me feel better… Just wake me when this is over…”
Karma kisses Kevin on the cheek and he closes his eyes shut as tightly as possible. Dion, Pomp, and Dion are still howling behind him. We fade out to black as the plane hits its highest height. Next stop Hawaii… for SLAM.
