Since I was asked...

[The New Breed Foundation]

I am not sure where exactly to post this... since it isn't relevant to here, but people anted to see examples of my longer work.

Here is a series I wrote over two weeks for two matches. The first two are for the Battle Royal Tournament in the XWF for the European Championship. I was in the final two, but a screw job in the match cost me the win...

Then the next two are the following week in the rematch for the title.

I hope you enjoy them if you take the considerable amount of time to actually read them.

[The New Breed Foundation]

[The scene opens in the New Breed’s gym in Jacksonville, Florida. We see Soda Popinski working on basic grappling techniques in the ring to the left of the gym. One of the top fighters from the Bahamas is sparring with Andra, and another is coaching him on particular points of the unfamiliar style. While there was never a single question whether or not Andra Punchadorov was a whirlwind of fury in the boxing ring, and the whole world knew he could strike as sudden as a cobra, and for decades young men have fallen to his Uppercut… but the upcoming match against THE Tristan Slater was NOT a boxing match.]

[While both boxing and professional wrestling were high-impact fighting sports, that was where the similarities ended. Soda Popinski was way out of his element in a wrestling ring, but he was a very fast learner. In the boxing ring, Andra Punchadorov was nearly unbeatable. In a wrestling ring, at least up until a few weeks ago, Soda Popinski was as a newborn babe tossed to the wolves of hungry men who wanted to make a name for themselves by defeating the Legend inside the squared circle. The Laughing Russian had a rough go of it too… for Johnathan Cable knew that the XWF Champion would not take mercy on Andra.]
[The issue had been pushed further than Slater intended to let it go, and he was on the brink of madness. THE Tristan Slater was growing weary of even hearing the name Soda Popinski. Maybe that was the plan all along? To piss him off so he makes mistakes and then dissect him in the ring? Way too weak of a strategy. Robert Miles and Soda Popinski would never rely on such a sheer amount of luck to take down THE Tristan Slater. Keeping in mind the recent events in the life of the XWF Champ involving “Chronic” Chris Page, Paul Frost, and two innocent bystanders who happened to be standing too close when the bomb went off, it will be phenomenal if he doesn’t crack and lose the XWF Championship before they ever meet. Those two ‘civilians’... they were just collateral damage. The guys from over there didn’t have a single shred of emotion tied to the beating that Kimberly and Slater’s agent received not that long ago. They could care less who they beat up. Their only concern was to gain ratings. The invasion force from that other crappy company (you all know the place… the one that needs to siphon viewers from the XWF by making appearances on our shows and taunting our Superstars into making appearances during their shows… just so our viewers will waste their time TiVo-ing their lackluster program to catch a glimpse of the Superstars they know and love from the XWF) of trained apes who are supposed to be professional business owners march in here, and lay waste to whoever they want. These two innocent people were just involved in the wrong life at the wrong time. Now… Andra had to face a not unreasonably unbalanced Tristan Slater in the weeks to come.]

Narrator:
“His road is a hard one. It is harder than most. But… the Legend is strong, and capable. He is determined to survive, and eager to learn more. The longer Tristan waits, the more of a true threat Soda Popinski actually becomes. The tournament in the Bahamas at the New Breed’s new gym truly was a genius endeavor.”

[Jonathan is sparring with the other three winners of the tournament from the weekend before. He is training against multiple opponents for a very specific purpose. Monday… Monday would change everything.]

Narrator:
“John knows how to train.”

[The camera pans across the gym to a wall of photos and a trophy case full of awards, large and small, plaques and ribbons, and even a pair of gloves with a signature in silver ink and a message ‘to Hank’ from ‘the Champ’]

Narrator:
“His foster father, Hank, ran the gym when John was young, and raised him around each piece of machinery that still sits here. That ring is the same ring that Johnathan learned his trade in, and Hank was a brutal teacher. He believed that a lesson was always worth learning the hard way, no matter how small the message. He believed that if you suffered to learn the lessons life would teach us, the memory would never fade.”



“Never give up… Just keep swinging.
Hank ‘The Tank’ Winthrop”

[… The multitude of awards on display all belonged to John’s foster father.]

“He was not cruel. In fact, he was kind and generous. John had known little of either in his life, and him as a father. It took years, and many hard lessons before Johnathan figured it all out, but Hank was painfully patient.”

[The camera pans back across the gym. Johnathan Cable seems to be handling himself well against the three highly skilled fighters. He is using his assailant’s own momentum to counter their attacks, and then waiting patiently for a prime opportunity to strike. He is moving fluidly, making sure to keep plenty of the padded floor between his back and the edge(which signifies a ring-out… and we all know what THAT means in a Battle Royal, don’t we?), and one after another, john tosses the three men from the mat like sacks of laundry.]

Narrator:
“Never before, in any of the numerous foster homes before he finally landed in this gym, did John ever feel like his foster parents actually cared about him or his well-being, let alone for his dreams and ambitions, but Hank did. Hank always genuinely wanted John to have a better life than the ones he could have had.”

[Just then, the door at the top of the stairs bursts open, and Andrea Romero rushes onto the small metal landing high above them.

Andrea Romero:
“JOHN! COME QUICK!”

[Johnathan looks up for an instant, and sees the frantic terror in Andrea’s eyes, and immediately knows. Without hesitation, Cable springs to action. He bounds across the gym, and takes the narrow metal stairs. The scene fades to black as Johnathan and Andrea disappear through the door inside.]
Narrator:
“The terror of passion is all in the uncontrolled.”

[The scene fades back in to Johnathan Cable sitting at a desk in the small office downstairs in the gym. He is typing an email, painstakingly attempting to word this missive just right,]

“Dr. Jan Curtis

I hope you remember me. I know it has been a long time since last we spoke. My name is Johnathan Cable. You helped me deal with my foster father’s murder. Well, honestly, you helped me deal with a lot of things, but hank’s death was the catalyst for my spiral.
I have a very odd issue involving my wife, and I was hoping that you could make time to see her? We would be happy to accommodate your schedule, but I fear prolonging professional opinion, I am at my wits end, and I am truly terrified that there may be something seriously wrong with her.
We await your response as patiently as possible. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Johnathan Cable”

[John looks over the mail carefully, and then clicks the send button. He runs his hands over his mask and bows his heads into his palms. Resting his elbows on his knees, he lets out a giant sigh. Frustration drips off of him. It nearly oozes out of every pore in his skin, and his shoulders shake as he begins to sob. The scene fades to black once more.]

Narrator:
“The most terrifying things in life are those things that we do not understand, and cannot control. We, as a species, are more frightened by the unknown of life than by anything else known to man. When a loved one is struggling with anguish… it sets a person on edge. It makes them a bit unpredictable, and that makes them dangerous.”

[John straightens a few papers on the desk, and then gets up from his office chair. He makes his way out into the darkened gym, and flips a single switch on the wall near the stairs leading upstairs to his home. After a moment, a couple of long fluorescent bulbs click on, and the room is dimly lit with bright white light.]

Narrator:
“The nights are not Johnathan's friend. They are always full of misery for him, and try as he might; it seems there is no end of it now.”

[Johnathan makes his way over to the heavy bag hanging against one wall. The old fabric of the bag had been repaired countless times. You never could find a good cloth bag like they used to make now a days anyway. They were all gone. There is something about the feel of the cloth against your skin as you strike it... something soothing. The newer ones... constructed from plastic and puffed beads of foam... couldn't hold a candle to the old classic Everlasts. John loved this bag. It had been with him through so many rough nights. He didn't know what he would have done on more than a few occasions if he hadn't of had this bag. He would probably be back in jail.]
Narrator:
“Jessica took the loss to Kimberleigh Alves pretty hard. It didn’t send her over though. What did... the thing that tipped the scales... was how no one even mentioned the scandal that she had revealed to the world on Wednesday Warfare. Andrea and Jessica dug for days and called in a bunch of favors to get this information, and then... no one even cared. No one even noticed that Kimberleigh Alves was feeding them a pile of horse**** and they were eating it up like Bobby Flay had dropped a fabulous five course meal right out of his magic sword space.”

[John throws punch after punch into the fabric bag as the chain clanks together. The metallic tinkling can be heard echoing off of the brick walls in the large empty gym. One after another he sends his fist into the classic stuffing of the bag. The dent grows bigger and bigger as he continues pummeling it. After a few minutes, beads of sweat start to form on his forehead, and as the sound of the chains can be heard through the gym, John misses the door to his home opening as Andrea makes her way out onto the small balcony.]
Narrator:
“That was enough to send her off the end. She hasn't been the same the last few days. When she saw Alves and Decker at the party in Vegas the other day... she cracked. When she realized that not only did Kimberleigh not even deny the scandal, she glossed right over it, as if it were nothing and the rest of everyone else went right on along with it, Jessica went off. John had to carry Jessica out the back way of the hotel while no one noticed. She was dead set on having a re-match right there in Randall Cross' Hotel. John tried to reason with her, and instead of causing a scene over Kimmy on a night where the entire staff of the XWF was present and celebrating their new show, he just picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and went out the back way.”

[John lands blow after blow, the beads of sweat beginning to run down his forehead and into the leather mask he wore. After watching him for a few minutes, Andrea Romero begins to make her way silently down the stairs towards the gym floor below.]

Narrator:
“Kimberleigh Alves just kept right on telling her fairy tale stories about how she was a prom queen... and a cheerleader... and popular. She just kept right on with the story like Jessica had never opened her mouth... and Jessica just lost it. John had to force her into the car. He had to set the child locks to keep her in the car that night on the long drive to the airport. Once he got to the Airport, and they had decided to head back to Jacksonville, he actually had to sedate her to get her on the plane in the first place. After the attack on Barney Green and Chris Legend backstage after the show in Greensboro, John though she had gotten it all out of her system... and so had she. Obviously, after seeing Kimmy again in Vegas, they realized they were both wrong.”

[John continues to drive one punch after another into the cloth of the heavy bag as Andrea Romero reaches the thinly carpeted floor. She is a sheer lace teddy in one of John's favorite colors of blue.]

Narrator:
“Oh... well... for some reason that looks familiar. I KNOW I would remember that if I had seen it before, so why do I feel like I have in fact seen it somewhere before now? Oh... it looks just like one we had seen in a commercial... oh yes... there was one in lingerie commercial for Kimberleigh Alves company. That is where it was from. Why would she be in one of Alves' designs? I mean... it does look amazing as she saunters unseen across the gym, her hips swaying back and forth, her breasts shimmering in glitter powder, and her sexy bare legs stretching all the way to heaven, but why would she be in one of Alves' designs?”

[The only sound heard in the place is the thud thud thud of fists on the bag, and the tinkle of the chains waving violently as John smashes the bag trying to work out some frustration so he can finally get some sleep tonight. Andrea moves behind Johnathan slowly, waiting for just the right moment to surprise him.]

Narrator:
“What a surprise? I mean DAMN!”

[As John slowed down from his stress reliever, Andrea cleared her throat loudly. John spun to see her standing there, every single part of her inviting him to take her, her smile one of pure seduction and sexiness.]

Andrea Romero:
“So... John... having trouble sleeping? I was too. I heard you down here, and I figured you might like some company... you know... down here all alone like you are.”

[John turns to face her fully, and seems... strangely enough... disappointed.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Actually... I was trying to figure a few things out here. It seems like since we signed those XWF contracts, our lives have just been thrown into turmoil all over again. I don't know what we would do without you.”

[Andrea takes this as a hint, and steps closer to John. She reaches out her hand, and strokes her finger tips across the mask on his face. She takes another step closer, and runs her fingers around the edge of the mask, and makes a move like she is going to try and take the mask off of him. She has seen Jessica do it a few times now... like a sign of shared respect and a removal of the fear his face causes him. It seems to signify to John that he is safe with her, and Andrea wants to make him feel the same way with her. If she is going to be a part of this life, and a part of their marriage, then she wanted to know that he knew she cared about him for what he was, not for what he looked like.]

[It seemed weird to her looking back at it now. She was so afraid of Johnathan Cable at first. She had run out of their locker room that night, terrified of the Beast he was.]

Narrator:
“It was the first time she had felt something for Jessica. When she came to console her in the parking lot, it meant something to her. She knew that Jessica wanted her to be around, and she thought, at least, that she could tell she was interested in more than hiring her to do a job. Andrea was beautiful... and in her lifetime, she had seen that look a million times before. The eyes, slowly taking articles of her clothes off, so that if nothing else, at least in the minds of the observer, they had gotten to see the goods, so to speak.”

[Johnathan let her get her hands up to his face, and slowly slide her fingers into the edges of his mask, but then, something she didn't expect happened.]

Narrator:
“John was different. As many guys would break their necks to crane around looking at her just walking down the street, John never seemed to notice her, at least not like that. It wasn't until the lights went down, and the primal passions of consenting adults embraced. Those nights... Johnathan showed her why Jessica liked to call him the Beast. The name was fitting at least. Tonight, Andrea wanted to show him that she wasn't just some side piece... she was more than that, and she was ready to be involved in their marriage.”

[John reaches his hands up, and gently slides his fingers across the backs of her hands as she tries to get leverage on the leather mask. He reaches his fingers towards her own, and then wraps them, intertwined, around her own. He stops her from taking off the mask. She looks up at him confused before he speaks.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Andrea. I'm sorry.”

[Andrea is a bit taken aback, obviously. Never before had she dolled herself up and tossed her sexy form at a man who had said those words to her, and she was shocked. Only a couple of nights ago, John had made her feel a way no one before him had ever done... like she was desired for more than just her looks. It had been a late night of training, and after they had all taken a shower together, the night went very well... if you get my meaning.]
Andrea Romero:
“Wha... What? You are sorry about what?”

[Andrea lowered her hands away from his face slowly as John released her. She was beginning to feel attached to them, and not just John, or Jessica, but both of them. Had anyone told her five years ago that she would find herself in a bizarre love triangle with a super-hot Wrestling Diva and her disfigured masked husband... and that she would love every moment of it... she would have happily paid them a million dollars for the rights to the TV pilot.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Andrea... I know that we have had some times here lately that we were all enjoying each other’s company... but Jessica is my wife. We shared you... and you shared us... but we... you and me... can never be that way. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, and I am sorry about that... but we can't do this.”

[Andrea looks confused, and takes a step back from Johnathan.]

Andrea Romero:
“I... I don't... understand.”

[Johnathan takes a small step towards her and takes her hand, pulling her close to him. He hugs her in a very compassionate embrace, and then looks down at her before continuing his explanation.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Andrea... Jessica is everything to me. She was my beacon to return to the light of the world. Without her, I would have been lost forever, and I may not even be here right now. It isn't that you aren't very beautiful. You are. It isn't that you aren't a very talented naughty little girl... because you are. It has nothing to do with the fact that just the other day...”

[Andrea looks up at him with a tear in her eye and cuts him off abruptly.]

Andrea Romero:
“That what ARE you getting at here John? I don't understand wha....”

[Just then, Johnathan kisses her passionately. His tongue darts into her mouth and runs laps around her teeth with her tongue as they play back and forth. After a few moments... John pulls away from the embrace.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I know you don't understand. No one ever does. I can try to explain it to you, but I am not sure if you will get it then either... but if you want, I will at least try. You deserve that much, at least.”

[Andrea pulls away from him, and makes her way to a weight bench nearby, where she takes a seat, and leans back against the leather of the bench. She props one foot up on the metal bars of the machine, and runs a hand up her leg to her very inviting, panty covered crotch.]

Andrea Romero:
“Sure Johnny... you tell me why you wouldn't want to show me a repeat performance of the other night, huh? I KNOW you had a great night, and Jessica and I thoroughly enjoyed us... so shoot. Tell me again how you are going to turn me down when I want it so bad... Go ahead and tell me how you're going to say no.”

[Andrea runs her fingertips over her panties; teasing him... trying to entice hi to change his mind about the whole thing and give her what she really wants.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Do you know why we invited you into our bed Andrea? Has Jessica explained it all to you? Have you asked her about it?”

[Andrea stops touching herself, and looks a little bit confused.]

Andrea Romero:
“Well, the day after, I tried to ask her about it. I tried to explain to her that I didn't mean to cause problems between you and that I was sorry. I just...”

[John cuts her off.]

Johnathan Cable:
“If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I should have talked to you before that night ever happened. I should have had this talk with you before then, and maybe you would have seen what this is all about it. Jessica and I are perfectly happy with each other... but she has desires I can't give her. I have the wrong parts. Obviously, you have recently discovered these desires too, or you wouldn't have had as much fun as you have had with us. I know it is new to you, but you seem to like it...”

[With that, Andrea stands back up and takes a step towards him.]

Andrea Romero:
“So... this has nothing to do with you at all does it?”

[The explanation was clearly not lost Andrea. She was smart as a whip, and she was catching on really fast.]

Johnathan Cable:
“When Jessica and I first started talking about bringing someone else into our love life, I turned her down. I wasn't interested at all. I couldn’t figure out exactly why she even asked me about it. I mean... at first, I thought what every other guy would, I guess... Was there something wrong with me? Didn't I satisfy her well enough? What could I do differently that would excite her again?”

[Andrea looks at him with a sense of pity almost. She wonders where he is going with all of this, and from her experience, there was nothing wrong with what he did in the dark. She couldn't believe he wondered if he did it wrong. That wasn't further from the truth... at least to Andrea.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I spent a lot of nights not sleeping. I started paying more attention to her, and trying to make sure she knew how much I cared for her, and that she made me happy. I just wanted her to know that I didn't need anything else in my life, and that she was the only thing I cared about. I guess she figured out my misgivings. One day she sat me down, and explained a few things to me. It turns out, that she enjoyed me... more than anyone before me. She loved what I did for her, and how I made her feel... but there was something else. She loved the look and feel of a woman, and no matter how hard I tried to please her, there were going to be things that I just couldn’t do for her. I would never smell like a woman. I would never look like a woman... and no matter how good I was, I was never going to be a woman. THAT was what she wanted.”

[Andrea looked on as John spilled his fears about their marriage. He was terrified that he was going to lose her to another, and the fact that he might lose her to another woman was even worse yet. Imagining his terror as he thought that he would lose his beloved wife to another woman was beyond his limits. He was afraid that she would go away and never return.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I was like every other guy, and just concerned with my own feelings about it. I thought that I would die. The shame of losing her to another woman was more than I could bear. I was so stupid. She told me that night. That's how I know. She looked me straight in the face, and told me that I was stupid. She said that she loved me for it, but that I was none the less. She went on to tell me she didn't blame me. I was just a guy after all. Her desires had nothing to do with a short coming on my part. It had nothing to do with what I did for her. It had nothing to do with how she felt around me, and with me. Honestly, it had nothing to do with me at all. It was about her. It was all about something that she wanted, and she wanted to share it with me... not without me.”

[Andrea took another seat nearby on another small bench, and crossed her legs firmly, crossing her arms in front of her almost bare breasts glittering in the dim light.]

Johnathan Cable:
“At first, I still didn't get it. The guy in me screamed that I was making a mistake, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was the biggest idiot to walk the planet. My wife, sexy as I could dream of, wanted to bring another woman into the bedroom, and I had turned her down. I tried to explain that she was the only woman I ever wanted, and that she was all I ever needed. She told me I was cute, and while she was very happy to hear that, there was something else she wanted to share with me, and that if I really wanted to please her, I would at least try it. If it wasn't for me, she would happily forgo the desires she had, and spend the rest of her life with me and me alone. I hated the idea of her settling because I was too stuffy to compromise. Besides... what guy in his right mind doesn't fantasize about taking two women at the same time?”

[John clears his throat, and makes his way to sit next to Andrea on the bench. He takes a seat, and leans forward resting his elbows on his knees, looking at the floor as he continues.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I will never forget that first night. After I decided that we were actually going to give it a whirl, I spent some time online learning everything I could about swingers, and their lifestyle. I wanted to know what I was getting myself into before I was knee deep in naked people groping us from every angle. I knew that was definitely NOT for me. Eventually, I found a site online that we joined, and on that site, I found events here in Jacksonville for people of that mindset. There was a nearby club that hosted a meet and greet for... for people like us. I was so nervous. We got there, and I had no idea what to expect. I wondered if there were going to be people ****ing on the bar and at the tables... I was so naive.”

[John laughs at himself then, and continues with the story.]

Johnathan Cable:
“When we got there, we introduced ourselves to the door guy. He mentioned having never seen us before, and we told him we were new. He gave us each a yellow wristband, and explained that the wristbands were for us to recognize other people who were there for the event, and that we should have a great time. We noticed several wristbands right away. People from all walks of life were there, and I have to tell you, it surprised me a bit. I mean, there were people there for the event from all ages... young and old, white, black, Asian, you name it... there were people from all over town there too, and you could tell that there wasn't a moment that past that they weren't all staring at us. I remember making our way to the bar to get our first drinks, and looking around while I waited on the bartender to pour, the number of eyes on us was amazing. I almost felt like I was about to get in the ring any minute now with the number of people that were watching us just stand there waiting on our alcohol. A bunch of guys tried to talk to us that night, and I brushed them all off. Jessica didn't even talk to them... but she sure spent a ton of cash of strippers that night. That was really what got me over the uncomfortable feeling to be honest. She wanted me to be a part of it, and every time she would go to tip one of the girls working that night, she always had me come with her. The girls there didn't treat her the same way they treated me, and every other guy in the place. They had a special place in their tiny stripper hearts for the ladies, and I wondered then, and sometimes still do, if it is actually a requirement to be a lesbian to take off your clothes for money. They had a blast with her all night. They made her feel wanted, and I saw the light in her eyes the whole time she was getting attention from the girls, and I knew then what it was all about. She made it a point to be in contact with me every moment of it. When a stripper would rub her hands all over her chest, or kiss her neck, Jessica would make sure she was holding my hand, or that she was touching me in some way the whole time. She wanted to share this thing with me... and she wanted me to see how turned on it got her. The sex that night was amazing. While we didn't meet anyone we wanted to bring home, we had a fun night out, and the entire time, all we were thinking was about when we got home.”

[Andrea puts her hand on John's shoulder, and turns him to look her in the eyes.]

Andrea Romero:
“I understand. I am sorry that I thought...”

[John puts his hand against her cheek softly, and she leans into the touch of him with a smile on her face.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Andrea... I already told you, that if anyone is going to be sorry around here for this mess, it would be me. You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have talked to you about this before... I just... I love my wife. If there wasn't another woman in my life ever again, as long as I had her, I would be the happiest man alive. It has nothing to do with you, Andrea. You are very beautiful, and were I a single man... you would get what you came for. I wouldn't even hesitate. But it isn't like that. I am sorry to have led you on like that, but the things that we share... WE share them. It is something that we have come to look forward to together, and not just me or her. We want to enjoy each other’s experiences with this lifestyle, not just experience the lifestyle alone... so you see...”

[Andrea kisses him suddenly. After a moment, she pulls away and stands up.]

Andrea Romero:
“So I see that it isn't exactly what I thought it was. I'm sorry that I...”

[Johnathan stands up and kisses her back just as passionately as that first night they were together in the Bahamas.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Don't ever be sorry for anything. I should have talked to you before now. I should have made it very clear that what we have is something very special to us, and I just want to make sure that you understand that it is nothing against you, but I can't be with you like that. I know Jessica is not really herself right now, and I don't really know what to do about it, but US... US definitely isn't the solution. It is going to be hard for all of us right now, and I just have to focus on helping Jessica get better.”

[Andrea hugs him tightly, and then looks up at him behind his mask.]

Andrea Romero:
“I hope I find a guy that loves me the way you love her one day. I just want you to know that I am here for you, and whatever we have to do to help Jess... I am all in.”

[John hugs her again.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being here for me. I don't know what I would do without you.”

[Andrea smiles at him as she makes her way back to the staircase to go back to her room for the night.]

Andrea Romero:
“I am sure that you would figure it out. Don't you always?”

[Johnathan watches her make her way slowly back up the stairs and through the door to their home. After the door slides closed, he throws rights and lefts at the heavy bag until he can barely breathe. The effort strains him as he rifles shots into the cloth, and sweat once more begins to bead on his head and run in rivulets into his mask and down his neck and chest. Eventually, Cable wears himself out, and he sits down on the floor heavily as the camera pans closer to him. Between heavy breaths, Johnathan begins to speak again.]

Johnathan Cable:
“So the fact of the matter is pretty simple it seems. Or, at least it seems simple to everyone else in the XWF. I am still a little confused, but maybe all of you out there in TV land can help me figure it out.”

[John looks up at the camera.]

Johnathan Cable:
“It would seem that my previous Title reigns in other companies carry no weight at all here in the XWF. Honestly, why should it? Those Titles that I was so proud of were mine more than ten years ago. It doesn't matter that the New Breed was the Tag Team of the Year for the EWCL in 2003. No one here has ever even heard of the EWCL, and even if they had heard of it, what difference would a Tag Team that doesn't exist anymore honestly make around here? I can answer that part all by myself... NONE.”

“The part that I have trouble with really, is that if my past doesn't matter to these guys who were still running around chasing girls in High School while I was becoming the EWCL Hardcore Champion third time in two years... and if it doesn't matter to those same guys that the New Breed held on to the EWCL Tag Team Titles for nearly a year before we were stripped of the Titles for disagreeing with the EWCL Upper Management... and if it doesn't matter that I fought my Tag Team partner twice over the EWCL Television Champion during the time period that we were unstoppable as a Tag Team... and if it doesn't matter that sick twisted men caused more harm to more men than our roster even has Superstars... and if it doesn't matter about where I come from or the things I have done in my career that is longer than some of these punk bitches have even been alive... then why do they all care so much about the things that they have done?”

“Why is it that my achievements aren't noteworthy, but others find their own accomplishments to be more than just important, but instead a highlight of the world that spins around them? Why is it that while all of the glorious things I have fought and bled to accomplish in my life are of so little value to the guys in the locker rooms at every XWF show, that they feel that their pasts and noteworthy accomplished goals are all the more important to everyone else? Why is it that I am ridiculed openly about having a long and illustrious career, and yet they are only too happy to boast about the things they have done around the world, and for some reason, not only is it accepted, but it is encouraged?”

“Here I sit, in a gym that used to be the home of some of the greatest fighters in the world... and I am lost. I came here to the XWF, and from day one, I have made an impact. Oh... I am sure that the guys in the back will have no end to retort with that. They will come out and say that I have not made any impact at all. They will spout how I have faced no serious competitors. They will tell me how my record is less than perfect. They will gloat over my two losses to men who I don't feel were better than me. They will bring up how I came here demanding respect, and have been shunned for it, when in my heart, I KNOW that I deserve it... and for what you ask? Why do I deserve any respect all? How have I done anything differently than the rest of the green eared fresh faced rookies running rampant around here?”

“Well, for starters... I have earned myself a decent starting record: 6-2... All in four weeks. That's right... maybe you missed it? While you were all busy running your gums and flapping your lips, I have managed to put in eight matches in four weeks, and in six of them, I earned victories! During that time, I have beaten one man totally bat **** crazy, and I put more people out of the Rookie Battle Royal than anyone else in the match. I put out more people than most of the guys combined, and I was one of the last three standing at the end of the night. In my first month in the XWF since I signed my contract, I have only missed three Impact shows and a Pay Per View that wasn't even technically sanctioned by the XWF in the first place. Otherwise... if the XWF logo is on it... then so am I. I have yet to miss a single Warfare, and to be honest… I don’t know ANY other XWF Superstar that can say they have put in the time like I have. So you tell me out there in TV land... what have you all done? Have you got a story to tell all of the fans out there about how your work ethic is soooo much better than mine? Good luck. Even THE Tristan Slater didn't put in THAT kind of work... so you tell me how your work ethic is stronger than mine. Go ahead. So… if your lack of respect is merely from a work ethic ‘stand’ point… your legs are looking a little bit weak. You should sit down before you hurt yourself.”

“So… outside of my work ethic… what ELSE have I done with myself in the last month? What else have I accomplished that none of you give a damn about? How about never being afraid to fight for what I want? It seems that here in the XWF there is always someone somewhere running around in the back hallways screaming about how another Superstar is ducking them. You know that I am merely stating facts. There hasn’t been a single day, let alone a single week, since I got here that I haven’t heard it. You all hear it. You all know I am speaking the truth. So… knowing the facts… have you ever heard anyone say that I ducked anyone? Anyone at all? No… you haven’t. In fact… on a weekly basis I have been challenging Superstars to face me, which somehow ALSO get s me ridiculed, and I am often just placing an open challenge for ANY competitor to answer… and I take them all. The only two Superstars who have taken ANY of my open challenges have been John Black… who I utterly destroyed the other night… and Tyler Decker… who I WILL destroy come October third. I AM A FIGHTER. THAT is the difference between all of you... and ME. All of you have your fancy houses, and your fast cars. You all have your damned gyms full of perfect little people and the most high tech equipment money can buy. You have people who have people that contact other people’s people. You forgot what real people are like. You have no idea what any of your fans are like. You have lost touch with reality… every single one of you… and you come at me and tell me that I have done nothing at all to be respected for.”

“You deny me the respect I deserve all because you are too ignorant to understand that in the broader scope of things, I have touched more lives in one week of my own life than any of you, including THE UNDEFEATED Tristan Slater, will ever even hope to reach in your entire careers. Through the New Breed Foundation, did you know… I have a helping hand in more than one million family’s lives each and every day. The Foundation employs more than 300,000 people in eight different countries. That is just in our direct employ! Ask Randall Cross how many employees he has and what his labor bill looks like. Go ahead. Ask him. I make more jobs by myself than most States do in a year! None of you even care about it. None of you look at me and imagine that I could buy and sell a thousand Randall Crosses every day. I can. None of you look at me, with my old Jeep and my run down Gym, and my ****ed up face, and think to yourself… Now there is a very wealthy man. None of you have even noticed me unless I was stomping your face in with my boot! Well ladies and gentlemen… That will end now. Come Monday Night… there will never again be an XWF Superstar that mutters the term ‘Cable who?’”

“I didn’t grow up handed everything with rich parents that bought me anything I wanted. I didn’t grow up in the lap of luxury. I didn’t have a butler or a maid. I didn’t have any of that ****… and I couldn’t be more proud of myself for it. I fought to breath for **** sake… and you sorry sons of bitches whine bitch and moan about every broken fingernail like it is THE end of the ****ing world. Oh… Johnny Cable had a rough life. **** you. I DID have a rough life. I survived it, and I never asked for a hand out. I EARNED every single one of those Titles in every single one of the companies I have been in during my career. There hasn’t been a company with my name in lights yet that I didn’t win a Title in… and my time is coming in the XWF. You will NEVER find anyone that can say differently. I fought for it, and I defended not just my Titles, but my honor and my pride, every single time I walk through those curtains. Win or lose… there is ONLY fight in me. I don’t get bent about a loss. I have lost more fights than I have ever won, and what it has taught me is that there is always a tomorrow to fight in… and that day… I may very well win.”

“The thing that really gets me is that I KNOW that better men than all of us have fallen doing the thing we all love and bleed for, and no one knows their name. Not a single fan out there knows who they are, because they were nobodies. My Foster father was one of those nobodies. Hank Winthrop was a great fighter. He knew more about the business of fighting than any other guy alive, and he was good at getting his hands dirty. He was clean, and he would take you past your limits every time he stepped into the ring with you. It was a guarantee. No one knows who he is, because to all of you, he never mattered. He wasn’t a blip on your social radars… but he was the greatest man I ever knew. Just because he never fought a major fight on a Pay Per View didn’t mean he wasn’t a better fighter than any of the best boxers that have ever lived… it just means he never got the chance to show the world that he could have beaten any one of them.”

“If it were any one of you that had the chances that THE Tristan Slater had his first night, would you have held up to the task at hand? Would you? Ask him about how easy breezy chicken peasy his life has been since he got here. I mean hell… he went from being a nobody no name shmuck just like the rest of us to being the damned CHAMPION overnight! He carries the XWF World on his shoulders for Christ sake… and unless you have BEEN a World Champion somewhere before… and NO… Gilmour… you do NOT COUNT… you have NO IDEA what it takes to do the job he does. He has done it so well in fact, that currently, he is drowning himself in the bottom of a bottle of whatever cheap liquor he can find. So go ahead and tell me you know what it is like to be the WORLD CHAMPION. Only a handful of you guys can even begin to fathom what he does here, and now… he is becoming more and more like THAT GUY every day. Before you know it, he is going to be drinking blood and ****ing a dead hooker… and even THEN… he will have more jock riding retards chasing his nuts than an ICP concert has loose whores.”

“My point here, besides that THE Tristan Slater has a bunch of **** monkeys running around here… go ahead, and call me one… at least I fully understand what he deals with, and show him respect because until now, he has done it all with a grace and style that most of you wish you possessed. Do I think I have that sort of panache? Hell no. I don’t claim to be anything like him… I just know what he is doing… and I can recognize someone who is doing it well, as opposed to those XWF Champions who rarely defend their Titles…

[Singing horribly…]
I’m So Blue… So very Blue...
[Stops singing suddenly and looks at the camera.]
“… print of the Falls.”

“As I was saying is… my point here is simple. While I may not have held the belt to go 17-0 like Tristan Slater has given the same opportunities he has had thrust upon him… but I would have fought like hell every moment it was around my waist to keep it there, and there wouldn’t have been a moment I wouldn’t fight. If you look really deep… all of you… look really deep inside yourselves, and you honestly tell the world how many of you can say the same? Have you ever had to fight to eat? What about to actually live? You know… to actually survive day to day? I have. I have had to do horrible things just to breath one more day, and you bitch when your bar is out of your favorite liquor. You all make me sick.”

In addition to being an XWF Superstar whose only goal in this company is to get in the ring as often as I can... I have taken it upon myself to babysit a Champion who can't seem to stop himself from drowning in a bottle. All around him, people want to tear his body limb from limb, and his answer is to drink it all away. He sits in his dressing room after every match now and loses himself to the Hooch… and you all sit by and do what? You watch him, and you look at each other and think to yourselves… oh what a shame. He had such a bright future… and then you just keep looking like it is going to change itself. You sat by and watched him get decimated on our show by those mother ****ers whose only goal in life to **** on our house… you sat by and watched his agent get torn apart by men twice his size who beat the **** out of people for a living. You sat by and watched Kimberly get smashed to tiny pieces while THE Tristan Slater laid nearby out cold. You sat there and watched.”

“The XWF is full to the brim of guys who claim that they want to cleanse the company of its immoral and hedonistic ways. They want to restore the XWF to a greater glory day of wrestling where men where men and they settled their differences in the ring, fair and square. Where were any of you the night that Chris Page and Paul Frost tore Slater’s world apart? Where have you been since then? You damned sure haven’t been at ringside watching out for one of our own. Yu damned sure haven’t been at his dressing room door trying to help him get back what he lost. AND YOU DAMNED SURE… don’t give a **** if he drinks himself into oblivion! You only give a rat’s ass when it is convenient to you. If you really wanted to save people… to help uplifts this company to some moral high standard that you fantasize about… then you would be trying to do something, anything, to make sure that people like Paul Frost and CCP can’t hurt anyone else ever again. What we witnessed that night was a tragedy. I will not abide it. I will not allow it anymore.”

“I for one will not sit by and wait for it to be me. Yeah… I said it. I am not about to sit around and wait for it to be me. But John… CCP and Paul Frost have no idea who you are, because you are irrelevant. You are a cosmic speck, and they are mighty celestial bodies of… shut the **** up! What do you think will happen around here if THE Tristan Slater loses? What do you think will happen when Paul Frost and CCP come back one day and break Joey Page? What do you think would happen to the XWF if Tomoko tears Tax a new *******? I’ll tell you what will happen to the XWF if any or all of those fantasies just happen to come true: The guys from over there… not just some of them… but all of them… will smell the blood in the water and come looking for a feast. I am no one’s feast. I will not just sit here and watch as these guys come in here and systematically destroy our company. None of you will be able to live the lavish lifestyles you are accustomed to if there is no XWF and you can’t draw a paycheck for being a curtain jerker. What ever will you do then? Think about it…”

“I guess what I am really getting at here… when you peel all of the fluff and flash out of it… is that Monday Night… is MY NIGHT. Every single man that comes out of the curtain and climbs into MY ring on Monday will learn the name Johnathan Cable, and they will never forget it. I don’t care who you are… once you climb into MY new ring… on MY new show… your brand new name will be the Beast’s Bitch. Never again will anyone doubt my claims. Never again will another XWF Superstar question my worth. When it is all said and done… MY floor will be littered with bodies I have cast down from MY ring. XWF MONDAY NIGHTS WILL BELONG TO THE BEAST!”

[The scene fades to black.]

[Nathan Saniti]

Thou forgotest the link.. est. Err. Guh. Zzzz.


Aaaaaannnnnd... Never mind. Besides... I know who you are. 8-)

[The New Breed Foundation]

[The scene opens in a familiar gym. The gleaming metal machines sit in neat rows, and every one of them is obsolete. The old steel plates are piled on top of one another in their stacks pierced through by a long metal spike, held in place by a thin metal pin.]

Narrator:
“There is something special about them, even though there are far better pieces of equipment on the market than these decrepit old things. Some of those machines have been used by the forefathers of modern combat sports. The men who built the foundations for your profession sat on these very benches, and lifted these same iron plates, and sweat on this very floor… and let me tell you… this floor has seen some things.”

[The camera pans across the gym floor skimming over the rows of historic machinery, and over an open padded floor used for sparring. On this open ring, lie three sleeping men. They are all sprawled out in various disarray, limbs all akimbo, each sort of covered by a thin blanket.]

Narrator:
“Tonight was the last night of training before we head out for the Battle Royal tomorrow. They were all in here late. John and Andra have intensified their training schedules. John learned to train from his foster father… and he too… was painfully patient. The third was really not that far away. In just a few days Soda Popinski would face Johnathan Cable in his professional wrestling debut on XWF Wednesday Warfare. Tomorrow Johnathan would find himself in a ring with God only knows how many of the XWF Superstars for the chance to win the very first XWF European Championship on a brand new XWF Show. Trouble had been brewing between the XWF and that other company… you know, the ****ty one. It was supposed to have worked itself out by now, but the boys from over there upped the ante. THE Tristan Slater was rapidly becoming A Tristan Slater as our very beautiful, very new, recruit to the New Breed had claimed before. The ‘men’ Cable was actually referring too before STILL hadn’t showed their faces to answer for their transgressions of apathy while innocents were being made an example of all to cause pain to another… one of your own. And here tonight, on this floor that could tell stories even better than I were it only given voice, five men very far from home lay resting for a short time before it was time to rise once more and make way to our destiny.”

[The camera pans across the antique ring that has withstood ages of men engaged in primitive combat, and swings onto the stairs headed up to Johnathan and Jessica’s home. After a moment, the scene takes us onto the balcony and through the single door that leads inside. The scene shifts to a narrow hall with several doors on either side. A single dim light burns in the darkness from down the hallway casting long shadows along the pale walls. The camera slides slowly down the hall to one of the many doors, and turns, entering the room. We see Andra Punchadorov sleeping soundly in his bed here at the Cable’s house. He is clutching a soda bottle in his hand, and is smiling sweetly. The camera slides back into the hallway and to a different door. The camera enters here too, and we see Andrea Romero asleep in her bed in a cute pink cami top and boy shorts. The camera hesitates a moment looking her over, and then moves back into the hallway. Once more it goes to a door on the hall, and enters, but here, is a far different scene.]

Narrator:
“The night of the party in Vegas started as a really good night. That lasted just about as long as it took for Jessica to spot Kimberleigh Alves having the time of her life, celebrating with her new man. She felt like Kimberleigh didn’t deserve to celebrate… and meant to prove it. When she lit out to go start the biggest brawl Cross’ hotel had ever seen, John grabbed her up and tried to talk some sense into her, but she wasn’t interested. Jessica was hell bent on destroying Kimberleigh Alves, and she meant to take John apart to get to her. He had never seen her like that before, and he was terrified for her. He wanted to figure out what he could do to get his wife back, the way she was before the world ignored the truth, and she cracked like a china plate. He sat with her when he could, but his only outlet to try to funnel the rage away was getting into the ring. There were more than enough opponents here now, what with Andra and the five winners from the tournament in the Bahamas. He had taken advantage of them all, and was still super charged, stressed out, and needing to really hurt someone. Good thing he would have his chance tomorrow.”

[As the camera makes its way into Johnathan and Jessica’s room, we see Johnathan sitting in a wooden rocking chair in the corner of the dimly lit room. The light from three dozen candles flickered and flashed across the walls, but was enough to light up the room well enough. He is without his mask tonight, and the orange glow of the candle fires his scars cast shadows across his features. As the camera moves into the room further, it spins to see Jessica, lying asleep, with her hands bound to the bed frame and her ankles tied off to the foot board. Her skin is pale and tinged with a strange blue pall. Spittle has dried on the corners of her mouth, and a white crust has formed around her lips. Her hair is stringy, and wet with sweat. Her face is sunken and her breathing is labored and ragged. Johnathan sits nearby trying hard in his struggle against the monster known as sleep. His eyes droop, and his head sways first one way then the other before sinking towards his chest. Just before his chin sinks down into his chest for good, his head snaps up and he rubs his eyes bit his hands trying to fight off the inevitable. Moments later, his head sinks into his chest for just a moment, and he snaps awake once more.]

Narrator:
“But where is Jessica? Where has she gone?”

[John looks across the room to where his wife was just bound hand and foot to their bed, but she was gone. He leaps from the chair in an instant, and searched the bed for the tethers, but found them torn to shreds still attached to the bedposts. He rises from his knees quickly, and throws open the door to the hallway outside, and freezes in his tracks staring in disgust at the scene before him. He leaned heavily against the door frame to his room as the horror set into his soul. His narrow pale walled hallway was coated in large splashes of blood. The trails of feet being dragged through the puddles of the sticky liquid on the wooden floors went back and forth, and finger tracks were smeared up and down the length of the hall. At the end, the little light flickered and flared to life intermittently, flashing at an irregular interval. The doors had all been smashed out of their frames, and shards of wood lay strewn everywhere the eye could see. Parts of the door frames were ripped bodily from the wall, and the damage done to the walls was severe.]

Narrator:
“What the hell is going on? Where is Jessica? Who could have done this?”

[In a frantic panic, john dashes across the hall to Andra’s door, and sees the same scene here. Blood splashes across the walls and pools form across the floor. Bits of meat dangle from sharp corner of smashed furniture. A large mirror that once stood in the corner of the room was reduced to shards spread out across the floor, the pieces glinting in the light from the pools of blood as Johnathan turns on the lights. Immediately, Cable flips the switchback off. He leans the side of his head against the door frame shielding his eyes from the sight. The horror of it all was astounding. John pulled himself together, and made his way down the hall to Andrea’s room hoping that things would be different there, but they weren’t. Here too, blood dripped from every surface, and bits of something hung from the sharp ends of a busted wooden dresser. John was distraught, but there was hope. He had not found any bodies in his house yet… so the people that were closest to him must be here somewhere. He prayed that was true.]

Narrator:
“John’s mind raced. Had THAT GUY gotten into his house and killed them all for fun? Had Cody Stonne come to gain revenge for the example he made of his face? Had the boogerman… I mean the boogey man come with his silly Elvira look alike and made it look like a horrible murder happened here? Where was his wife? Where was Andrea? Where was SODA POPINSKI?”

[Johnathan moves back into the hallway and turns down the hall towards the door to the gym. The bloody puddles reach through the hall, into the living room and through the smashed open front door. John moves onto the balcony, and catches himself as his knees get weak from the shock of what he sees. Below him, amid a pile of bodies of the men and women who were safe and warm inside his four walls earlier tonight, but now were merely piles of parts, dismembered, and oozing the remnants of the blood that once filled them right onto the center of his antique ring, sat his wife, her hair slick and matted with blood, her skin smeared with the red fluid, calmly gnawing on what appeared to be Andra’s right hand. John had no words as he knelt there weeping to himself. He finally pulled himself up on the bars of the railing, and crept down the metal steps as quietly as he could. Just before the bottom stair, John slipped on a pool of blood, and went down hard on the staircase. He got up as fast as he could, and peered over the railing to see if Jessica had heard him, and he came face to dripping bloody face with her looking him right in the eye with this crazed expression of joy… and then his head snapped up, and his eyes shot open as he gasped for air. He was still sitting, awkwardly sleeping, in the wooden rocking chair in the corner of his bedroom. Immediately, he looked over to where his wife still lay, bound hand and foot to the posts of their bed. The horror of it all had just been a dream. His mind had been playing tricks on him. He got up from the chair and moved next to the bed beside his wife. He knelt down and took her hand into his own as a tear rolled down his disfigured face. He put her hand against his scarred skin, and closed his eyes praying she would recover soon, and be the woman he loved again. Suddenly, Jessica sprang up, sitting on the bed, straining against her bonds to claw and tear at Johnathan. Her face contorts into a monstrous visage, and she shrieks a horrible scream that fills your head with pain. John falls back onto the floor as screams in terror.]

Director:
“CUT! PRINT IT! JOHN… THAT WAS AMAZING BABY!”

[John gets up from the floor, and walks out of the room with the fake Jessica lying in a bed that was never actually in his room. He makes his way down the hallway that is suddenly flooded with light as giant lamps come on overhead, and the camera pans backwards to see a film set built to replicate John’s house in Jacksonville. He makes his way out of the kitchen of his “house” and walks through a line of techs holding boom mics and lighting shields, manning cameras, or staring intently at a monitor trying to find just the right angle for the scene. He walks towards the back of the warehouse as a large bay door is rolled up as big as one wall, and the sunlight pours into the dark film studio. Johnathan makes his way out into the bright light of day and moves steadily towards the camera rolling backwards into the studio parking lot.]

Johnathan Cable:
“You see… anyone can write a damned screenplay… and anyone can hire special effects people to make anything look any kind of way they want to. The superstars here in the XWF are, if nothing else, creative geniuses. I mean… all Hollywood needed to do to find the next big idea for their mega bucks billion dollar blockbuster was pick the brain of any one of us. We have more deranged fantasies than Marilyn Manson and Rob Zombie’s lovechild. But you know what? NONE OF THAT BULL**** MATTERS!”

“You show the fans these twisted little oddities in a feeble attempt to gain some shock value out of it. You want the fans to sit on the edge of their seats and say OH MY GOD… I CAN’T BELIEVE HE JUST DID THAT!!!”

“You are all nothing more than the Howard Stern’s of wrestling… or maybe even he Bubba the Love Sponges of the XWF. Your silly little mind games and your creepy ****ing gimmicks will not save any of you come MY Monday night show. You think I am pretentious? You tell me I am presumptuous? You think that any of you have a prayer in Hell of walking out of MY new ring with MY new Title on MY new show? In a place where men talk to potatoes, pop pills like they are flying out of a Pez dispenser, and not only ****… but marry some dead blind bitch… you think any of you have any room to point fingers at ME??? You think you can tell me that I am holding myself to a higher level of expectation than I can achieve? You PRESUME to tell ME about how things are going to work on MY ****ING SHOW???All your little parlor tricks and your misdirection won’t save your asses. All your weird ****ing habits and your afflictions won’t matter. All of your incredible strengths and all the best of your skill that daddy’s money bought you won’t help you. The only thing that will matter come Monday night is that you come one come all, and waltz your **** monkey asses down to MY new ring on MY new Monday night show. Don’t make me wait to throw you over MY ropes onto MY floor… the Beast is hungry, and on MY new show… I am no mere LION… I am the only MAN walking away from MY new ring on MY own two legs… as the NEW XWF EUROPEAN CHAMPION! Hurry now… I’m waiting.”

[With that, the scene fades to black]

[The New Breed Foundation]

***************** DISCLAIMER *****************
This work of fiction deals with a very graphic nature of loss and violence and sex.
This piece must only be read with parental consent.
This is a serious warning people.
Gawd... I know you are just going to do it anyway...
even though your mommies and your daddies
(well, at least your mommies)
would be ashamed of you for reading this...
You nasty perverts.
Whatever.

****************************************************

Johnathan Cable:
“Yes… My name is Johnathan Cable. I need to get an estimate for a job, but I require some very specific things. I believe a man of your skill and particular expertise is exactly what I need for this.
…
Well, they may seem a bit odd, but I have need of a few particular requirements for this project.
…
First, while this is technically salvaging work and not an excavation, a salvage team would do me no good at all. You see, I recently had a fire. It was a total loss on the property. The thing is that the property was my gym and my home, and the gym happened to be recognized as a Historic Landmark by the National Boxing Association. A lot of history was in that building and I need someone who can find as much of it as they can.
…
I understand the odd nature of my request… but if you could just meet me at the site and take a look at it, I could make it very much worth your while.
…
Well sir… I happen to know that you have your heart set on a new discovery in England. You believe you have found the resting place of some very important men, and you are waiting on funding for your expedition correct?
…
Yes… I understand how that goes… but I don’t have to wait on anything. I can fund your trip by myself and I can sign the check today… IF… you can do what I ask of you.
…
That sounds good. I will have my assistant send over all of the info for the site. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.
…
Thank you for your time. Goodbye.”

<a href="http://s153.photobucket.com/albums/s214/aianvar/E-Fed%20Pics/?action=view¤t=FireAftermath_zps21da1e07.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s214/aianvar/E-Fed%20Pics/FireAftermath_zps21da1e07.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>

[The scene fades in to a rather normal rooftop. The whirring of compression units pushing the trickle of cold air through the building and the sounds of large fan blades slicing through the air in their narrow little tracks as they spin lazily inside their metal cages can be heard over the noises of a busy street below. The voices of millions drift on the light breeze that smells of smoldering smoke and the anguish of loss on a massive scale. The camera moves towards the edge of the rooftop, and below us we see a twisted brick building, charred beyond repair, the bricks of the old walls tumbling down into the piles of ash and soot. The broken bricks and splintered, charred fragments of what used to be beloved furniture or trinkets, now is nothing more than soot covered garbage. The wreckage of Johnathan Cable’s home, the Historical Monument, the gym where literally thousands of world renown superstars across the board in all manners of combat sports have trained to become the fighters that they are, the place where John’s ONLY fond memories in life took place… all twisted and mangled… laying at odd angles to each other piece… covered by greasy, black, sooty, resin.]

[The camera pans across the forlorn scene, and we see several of what used to be the antique weight machines, the metal once gleaming and nearly undamaged by the years, now stained a dark blue purple from the intense heat of the blaze that melted hundreds of lives with it’s very touch. The seats are gone, burned away in the rage of the fire, their ancient leather covers shriveled and charred, turned to ashes now that have blown away to farther, far more happy places, on the winds that whip ashes up into tiny tornadoes and drop them back down again among the rubble.]

[We see too, three standing ring posts, once shining black steel, reduced to charred remains, blackened rings and bolts hanging from each of the connections where the blue leather wrapped ropes once were. They jut out of the ruins of the gym like sentinels, refusing to topple over, and standing in eager defiance of the tragedy that happened here, looking down upon their fallen comrade that we can see sticking out at an odd angle from beneath piles of debris. Even the ring feels the bitter bite of loss, as we look for any traces of its remnants aside from the three ring posts and a handful of charred metal hardware, standing silently by mourning the loss of the fourth to the hatred of one man.]

[The camera pans across the tragic scene slowly, and we see, sitting on what remains of the twisted stair case that once led to his home above the gym, Johnathan Cable. He has his head bowed, his back rolled forward in what must not be a comfortable position, and his hands are resting on his knees stretched out before him. He is wearing a plain gray tee shirt streaked in black grime, and a pair of plain blue jeans nearly covered in the ‘blood’ of his home. He is wearing his black mask, and a pair of black work boots. As the camera pans closer, we see his shoulders quiver, and he reaches up to wipe a stream of tears from his face. Loss. Anger. Hatred. John looks up slowly as the camera approaches him, and tries to speak, but nothing comes out of his mouth. The words choke in his throat. The anguish of this all seems to be far too much… and really who can blame him? In one weeks’ time, John has lost everything that was important to him in his life. He wipes more tears from behind his mask, and attempts to begin again. This time, his voice, unusually horse and grating, floats over the charred remains of his life to our ears.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Karl… you have gone too far.”

[Johnathan stands slowly, his knees shaking as he does so. He steadies himself on a twisted bit of metal sticking out of the pile of burned broken bricks, and looks around what used to be his gym, and his home. John tries to soak in the sheer enormity of it all.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Do you have any idea at the number of people you have touched with this Karl? Can you even imagine the sheer amount of history of the beginnings of our industry that you have just destroyed? Did you know that within these walls were housed some of the earliest memorabilia for our profession, that’s your profession, my profession, and that of every other fighter worldwide? Do you even care that you just decimated decades of history? The men who built this place… were pioneers of our sport… and you have reduced all that they, and everyone since them has worked for… to a ruined pile of ashes, twisted metal, and charred bricks. This place… Karl… while being my home, was more than that to hundreds of thousands of people throughout the years, and you… you selfish morally debased prick… have taken it upon yourself to destroy that which millions have worked to build.”

[John kicks a chunk of broken brick across the rubble field, and it smashes to dust against the jagged section of what remains of one wall. He flings his hands out to his sides, stretching his arms wide, his palms upturned, and spins slowly around taking in the destruction all around him. His mind races with the amount of destruction caused by one man throwing a tantrum.]

Johnathan Cable:
“But seriously though… Karl… all of THIS, just for me? I mean really… I am FLATTERED! No… seriously, Karl. I’m not Slater. Sarcasm was not intended there buddy… in fact… I quite meant it. I am really FLATTERED. I mean look here Karl… look around me…”

[John continues to spins slowly around on top of a pile of ashes and bits of the life he once knew with his arms outstretched, palms upturned.]

Johnathan Cable:
“You tout yourself as the Morality Champion of the XWF… and THIS… this is how you prove your moral superiority? Obviously… I pissed you off so much that you turned your back on every ounce of your purpose, just to get back at me. You told the entire XWF Universe that you were here to show us what good, morally upstanding, boring old cardboard cutouts of you could make this company into. You came out and tried to brag to the whole planet that you were a morally superior Superstar in all respects, and that you would show us all what life could be like if we followed your morally righteous ways. And then… once you set yourself up around here to show us all what it was like to be just like you, and be righteous… you went and turned your back on every fiber of your being and took a Venom style **** on any morals you ever had, and for what? A European Title that doesn’t belong to you? To be a ‘Champion’ in the company that you never deserved to have dropped in your lap? To gain a fan base that are as demented as THAT GUY and will cheer for anyone, regardless of how upstanding they are or how many lies they tell? Was it to destroy the headquarters of a company that helps millions of people eat every day? Or maybe to bring to dust a company that furthers scientific discoveries that can save lives by the millions? Or Karl, did you turn your back on everything you ever wanted to be just for ME? Did you cast aside your Morality Ideals just because I angered you Karl? Again… I am seriously flattered, but I don’t think that was it really. I mean… I hope that you didn’t give up your entire life’s work JUST because of me. Or… God forbid… you gave it all up JUST for the European Championship. Now THAT would be a tragedy.”

[John tilts his head to the side and puts on his best ‘Standing Thinker’ pose, looking quizzically at the camera.]

Johnathan Cable:
“What’s that, Karl? Why, oh why, would THAT be a tragedy? I mean… you DID get the XWF European Championship HANDED to you by Randall Cross on the world stage! I bet you are standing on the mountain tops with your pride of lions and your gaggle of geese saying now that your soul was a fair trade for the prestige of being the first EVER XWF European Champion? You scream to the heavens of your defiance, and know deep down in your soul-less heart that it was all worth it? Well Karl Cross… I hope it WAS all worth it merely to keep MY European Title warm for me until Monday. THAT is really the tragedy here. The fact that you gave it all up for a ONE WEEK TITLE REIGN is the REAL TRAGEDY. I hate to see a person go back on their principles for nothing… and that is what you did Karl. You gave up everything you were to hang your entire career on a hunk of gold that you won’t even be able to call your own longer than seven days. Now THAT… that is the REAL tragedy here.

[Jonathan lowers his arms, and crouches down to the ashes at his feet. He reaches his hand down into the rubble, and picks up one of the few bricks that are actually whole, unscathed, and intact. He turns it slowly in his hands, studying the sides of it. He runs his fingertips over the red, dirty surface of the antique brick made in a time when men were better than they are now. He looks it over carefully, and without ever looking up to the camera, he begins again, lost in his own thought about the brick.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I remember the day I first came here.”

[The scene shimmers and fades to black. The screen waves as if a massive heat were placed under it, the air shimmering in our sight. It fades back in to a shot of the gym, what can only be ages ago, the white paint crisp and clean and new. The door is firmly in place against the white brick, not banging against the frame in the slight breeze, the wooden screen door a matching crisp white of fresh paint. A van pulls up into the drive way in the alley behind the gym, and a short middle aged blonde woman climbs out of the driver’s seat, and makes her way around to the back passenger door. As soon as she opens the door, a young boy with blonde hair shoves it into her, knocking her to the pavement, and takes off down the alleyway towards the street not far away. His legs are pumping as fast as they will carry him, and his arms are flying forward and back propelling him faster and faster. He can taste the freedom on his lips, as it creeps across his tongue and down his throat. It is the sweetest thing he has ever tasted, and now, turning back has faded as an option for him. There is danger in the world, but there was one thing for certain with him: He would not be held prisoner by another foster mom or dad and kept like a house slave. He was no one’s property, and there was no way he was going to go back once he made it to the end of that alley. He would make a break for it, and disappear in the throngs of people in the busy city streets. No… he didn’t have anywhere to go, and he had not a single bite of food to eat, but freedom was more important to him than life right now. There was no way he would remain a ward of the state one more day.]

[As the boy ran, he grew closer and closer to the elusive freedom that he yearned for. Then, far too late, he saw him. A man, small in stature and thin of frame, dressed in a simple cotton robe like you imagined to see a monk of the Mountains wearing, stepped lightly into the center of the mouth of the alleyway. He was quick. He was far faster than his age belied him to be. The grey hairs stuck out at wild angles on the sides of his head, and the top of his scalp gleamed in the sunlight. He was a bit stooped shouldered, and his spine was bent forward just a hair. His legs stuck out at a strange angle when he stood that bowed his knees out to his sides. He peered at the boy barreling headlong down they alleyway at him over a pair of fairly think glasses, and placed his hands on his hips. The boy tried to skid to a halt, but it was too late. His trajectory carried him right into the chest of the old man. The man, miraculously, didn’t even shudder as the boy hurtled into him, and bounced… backwards… ass over tea kettle… head over heels… rolling onto the concrete just short of the freedom of the open streets of Jacksonville. The old man looked down at the boy and smiled a very warm smile.]

Hank Winthrop:
“You must learn to stand tall and strong. When no one can move you, then you are your only master. Welcome to my home Johnathan. I offer you all that I know and am on two conditions.”

[Young Johnathan looked up to the old man terrified of him suddenly.]

John:
“Wh… What are they?”

[His voiced quivered as he lay on the pavement awaiting the man’s response.]

Hank Winthrop:
“One… you must always honor my home and hospitality. Any dishonor that you show to me or to my home will see you thrown into the streets. Understand… this is a last stop place for young men just like you. You have a long track record in your short years for causing problems, and the state has asked me to try to help you. This is the last thing they are attempting to do before they ship you off to a military academy. You either TRY to make a change to better yourself here, or they will MAKE you make a change for the better there. It is up to you.”

[Hank studied the boy intently for a moment before continuing in his stern tone of voice.]

Hank Winthrop:
“You must honor yourself, and teach yourself how to love who you are… by becoming the man you were meant to be. This place can teach you a great many things. The fact that you ran today tells me that you are not afraid, and you have a strong spirit. You refused to be… ‘owned’… am I right?”

[He pauses for a moment until John shakes his head weakly yes.]

Hank Winthrop:
“I own no one save myself. We each are only responsible for our own actions. There is never a time when you do a thing that anyone else requests of you that are not your own doings. You will respect yourself here, and learn to treat yourself as you should treat all people, and how you should expect others to treat you as well.”

[John looks back up the alleyway to the woman who is standing by the van. She shrugs her shoulders and offers no help to his plight. This is obviously his last hope, so to speak, of having some semblance of a normal life. He looks back up at the old man, a serious expression on his young face.]

John:
“OK. I get it.”

[John slowly gets to his feet as the old man approaches him.]

John:
“So… you going to give me a tour of this **** hole, or what?”

[The old man shoots a hand out faster than sight, smacking John in the side of the head, knocking him over face first on the concrete. The blow sent bursts of white light to fill John’s vision for endless moments. The pain tore through his face as he held his jaw, and worked the muscles side to side.]

Hank Winthrop:
“That is your only warning about violation of my rules. The next time, I will toss you into the street. Do not test me.”

[Hank walks steadily to greet the woman who had brought John here. The distance to the street wasn’t that great. John looked back at the old man as he scrambled to his feet. He wasn’t even looking. John thought to himself that maybe he could make it, and be free. He considered that the rules here seemed pretty simple… and while the old man was a hard ass, at least you knew what to expect from him right up front. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a warm bed and not have to sleep with one eye open night after night. Maybe… maybe he would just sleep on it tonight, and decide in the morning. It had been a while since he had eaten anyway, and well… **** it. OK. He decided that would at least see what this place was all about before he bolted. Besides, he figured, maybe there will be something inside worth taking with him or something useful he could grab for his trip to… well… wherever he ended up going, anyway.]

[The scene fades out with John making his way up to Hank who is signing papers for the woman, and handing her the clipboard.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I still remember the way the air felt inside the gym when I first walked in that day. There is something about it… damp, musty… something primal and raw… something very few places I have ever been exuded, but this gym did. You could feel something about the place just in the air as soon as you made it through the hallway. This was a place that Greatness had been forged. This was a place that great men aspired to be immortalized in legend. This was a place steeped in a history of violent tradition that few other places on the planet could match. It crept into your bones, and you could feel the eyes… all of them… staring at you… weighing your character… judging your soul worthy to enter their hallowed home.”

[The scene fades back in to the familiar front hallway of the Cable home, but lighted brightly with long florescent tube lights running the length of the ceiling here. The camera pans down the freshly painted white hallway and through the double doors at the end into a sprawling gym. The floor is covered in a thin multicolored carpet of various reds and greys and black with a splash of occasional blue. The machines are set in neat little rows just as we remember them, but every single part of them shines of high polished metal. No blemishes of rust mar the surface of any piece, and the machines are free of aging pits. The plates are painted black, and the numbers are a fine lined white, sharp in contrast to the void of the inky plates stacked one on top of another. The red leather covering of each and every seat shines in the rays of light that filter through crystal clear panes of narrow windows high above the gym floor. No scratches, or tears, or holes worn over time are present, every hand grip is freshly wrapped leather of a matching shade to the seats, and each machine is immaculate.]

[John twirls around in wonder and awe taking in all of the things held inside the dull white brick of this run down warehouse in a dingy part of downtown. As the world went on around this place, time stood still within these walls, covered in their relics of days gone by, and antiquities of an age far better than the hell we struggle through today. As people move along outside, hurrying in their daily grind, an oasis of a culture few knew anything about lay just on the other side of a brick wall away from them, and it was right under their noses… and no one even knew. The ants went marching right along, and none of them had any idea that a Legend who never built a legacy lived among them.]

[The camera pans across the gym as John makes his way around the machines to where the old beat up ring that John will one day learn his trade in sits, but pristine and new. The ropes of wrapped red leather are soft to the touch, and tightly drawn into all four corners. The black steel ring posts stand tall under the single hanging bulb shining down on the crisp taunt canvas tied down with fresh clean white ropes crisscrossing back and forth under the ring. The hardware all around the ring, from the corner bolts holding the ropes tightly three to a pole, to the pulleys stretched to their breaking point holding gleaming chains under the ring, was brand new and shined in the lighting of the bright gym. The wooden boards of bright white oak that made op the sixteen foot frame of the ring were trimmed and showed no signs of wear and tear, very nearly brand new additions to the most important thing inside John’s young life.]

Hank Winthrop:
“You will not be permitted to use these facilities until you have learned to care for the equipment… and you have shown me that you have learned how to respect yourself and others. Is that clear?”

[John looks around the gym slowly and then back to Hank.]

John:
“Yeah… I got it. What’s up there?”

[John points to the long staircase leading up the far wall of the gym to a small balcony and a single door.]

Hank Winthrop:
“That is my home, and will be your home too, as long as you can behave yourself, that is.”

[John looks up at him and really looks at him for the first time. He seemed nice enough, even though he could hit like a mule kicks, and really didn’t seem to take any **** from smart mouthed little kids.]

Johnathan Cable:
“He didn’t care that I had watched a man murder my dad. He didn’t care that I found my mom lying on the living room floor gutted like a fish. He didn’t care that not that long before that very moment; I had killed a man for the first time. He did care about how I channeled that anger. He understood why I was angry in the first place. But, as I came to find out rather quickly, he believed that things in life could not be controlled by us… for they always happened. Too many people making decisions affected other people around the world, and some more of that a ‘butterfly flaps its wings’ garbage… but the gist was simple really: We controlled what we did with ourselves, and the choices that we made every moment of our lives. Only I could choose what I would do with my life, and through that decision we empowered ourselves. We could become anything we ever dreamed of, if only we were strong enough to make our own decisions and take responsibilities for our own actions. All of my anger… all of my rage… he expected me to use it as fuel to become the great man that I was destined to be.”

[The scene fades from the past back into the present as the gleaming white walls shift to crumbling ash covered ruins of their former selves. The equipment transforms from gleaming immaculate pieces of machinery to broken heat-stained mangled lumps of twisted metal. Johnathan grows swiftly from a little boy back into the masked man we know today. He stands near the ring posts jutting straight out of the rubble, refusing to give way and fall before the might of the blaze that changed John’s life around.]

Johnathan Cable
“I’ll never forget watching those guys train that first year there. Hank wasn’t joking about not letting me use the machines, or get into the ring, or use anything, until I had learned every maintenance procedure for each piece of equipment in the entire gym. That first year was rough, and there were a couple of times that I almost got myself tossed out on my ass… but Hank forgave me, and I got better. The anger was still there over what had happened to my parents and how the State had treated me prior to landing at the gym, but it wasn’t the same after a while. I guess I kind of forgot it for the most part.”

“My life had made a serious turn for the better, and I liked it at the gym. The guys there treated me well, and I knew they respected Hank. You could see it in their faces all the time. They loved him for who he was, and not just what he had helped them do for themselves. I could see why. These men were on the edge of breaking out into the professional world of boxing, and they were more than ready with Hank Winthrop as their mentor. The boxing world had gotten wind a short while ago that Hank had taken on some students, and they all wanted to know who would be the next big thing. There were a few that were ready for the big stage, and when Hank decided to let them loose in the ring, they took the whole world by storm. It was amazing. I saw those fights from ringside… some of them at the biggest arenas in the nation… and I wanted to do it so bad I couldn’t take no for an answer.”

[The scene shimmers again, and once more we are in the familiar gym, ages ago, with things all brand new and gleaming. Hank was telling a couple of students staying late goodnight, and locking up for the evening. A teenage Johnathan stood among the machines waiting patiently for Hank to come back in. Hank came through the double doors into the gym from the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks, staring at John.]

Hank Winthrop:
“John… I told you already. I don’t think you are ready to learn to hurt anyone, because you haven’t yet learned how to help them selflessly. I will not tell you again.”

[John’s face tells the tale of dejection felt in the young boy’s heart. Hank walks to the stairs and makes his way up to the balcony, where he looks down at John still standing in the middle of the machines, his head bowed in defeat. He feels bad for the boy, but will not hand him a lethal weapon with his anger still intact, albeit muted, but there, just simmering below the surface, waiting for a chance to break free and run rampant once more. In the years he had been there by now, John had not yet shown him that he had let it all go, and could grow once more as a person willing to uplift his fellow man.]

Hank Winthrop:
“Make sure you turn off all of the lights before you come up? And don’t take too long… I have something I want to show you.”

[Hank disappears through the door to the house, and leaves John alone in the gym. He looks around longingly at all of the machines, and the ring. He walks over to the ring and runs his fingers over the red leather of the rope, a little more worn now after years of use. The white tie-down ropes are dingy now, a decade of dirt and sweat soaking into the fibers of the ropes. The canvas is no longer pristine, but it is well cared for, and no worse for the wearing. John walks slowly along the side of the ring, and lets the leather wrapped ropes slide beneath his fingers until he gets to the corner, and he wraps his hand firmly around the cold steel of the rope beneath the leather. John leans his head against the cold metal of the ring post, and closes his eyes, thinking to himself as the scene fades to black once more.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Hank caught me three times that month trying to teach myself to throw a punch as well as the guys Hank trained. I was so far off… I thought that I could learn on my own and show him one day that I could handle myself… and THAT would make it all better. He was miffed the first two times. Hank was downright pissed the last time. He came at me like a fury of myth… raining down punches… yelling at me for disobeying his rule. He told me that I could have learned everything that he knew, if only I would have just let go of the anger in my heart, and then… he stopped hitting me. He looked down at me with tears in his eyes, and he told me to get out of his gym.”

[The scene fades back in to a bleeding Johnathan lying on the floor beneath a fuming, sobbing Hank Winthrop.]

Hank Winthrop:
“Get out.”

[John looks up at him confused at first, and then terrified as the realization of what Hank was saying began to set in. John had no idea what he would do without the gym, and without Hank. He had come to love this place, and him, and considered this place the first home he had since his parents were murdered.]

John:
“No… Hank… I don…”

Hank Winthrop:
“I didn’t ask what you wanted John. You don’t seem to care what I want, so I am done caring what you want. Get your things right now and get out. You are no longer welcome here.”

[The scene fades to a montage of Johnathan leaving the gym for the last time, and wandering the streets of Jacksonville with a backpack, a duffel bag, and the clothes on his back, and nothing more that night. The montage continues to play through showing John floating from one shelter to another, in between sleeping on empty benches and under trees in neighborhood parks. We see him begging for food, and digging for it in dumpsters and trash cans in back alleys.]

Johnathan Cable:
“That was one of the hardest years of my life. Being away from the gym and away from Hank was horrible. That part was far harder for me than sleeping outside on a bench or finding food. That part was what made me cry myself to sleep at night. I understand now why he did it, but for a long time I felt like I hated him for it. What I really hated was myself. I hated that I had done that to myself, and I honestly was pissed at myself for not listening to what Hank told me to do. He had so much to offer me if I had just listened, and I thought I was never going to see him again.”

[The montage continues to play through and we see John taking less and less care of himself. He stops trying to bath, or shave, and starts to look like a dirty bum. Grime and grease coat his clothing and his hair becomes matted, and slick with dirt and oils. John reaches the bottom of the barrel, and his depression about his situation finally gets the better of him. He lays down in an alley, and just stays there. The montage fast forwards through days and nights, and still John just lays on the side of an alleyway, waiting to die. Then, one night… four days into his miserable hopes to die and be spared his anguish, three men make their way into the alleyway, and find John delirious, lying next to the building towering over them. The men approach him, murderous intentions buried deep inside their hearts. They make their way slowly towards them, and then, from the end of the alley, comes a voice out of the darkness.]

Hank Winthrop:
“You should pick on someone who can at least defend themselves.”

[The three men turn, and seeing Hank’s age, they chuckle to themselves. One of them men breaks off and turns to approach Hank. The other two continue to make their way towards the sickly Johnathan.]

Hank Winthrop:
“Your best bet tonight son is to take your two friends there and leave my boy alone. I won’t tell you again.”

[The man laughed at him, and so did the other two as they approached John lying on the ground.]

Man#1:
“And what would you say if we gut you both and take whatever you got on you, huh pops? What if that is what I got in my mind to do tonight?”

[Hank slides one foot forward, slowly, deliberately, every motion of the move calculated and precise.]

Hank Winthrop:
“I would tell you to reconsider or your agenda will get a lot shorter. You want to go home and take your friends there with you. It is safer that way for all of you.”

[The other two men heard the change in his voice from a warm warning from a father to protect his young, into something more. In a moment, from a subtle shift, Hank had become more than just some old man in an alleyway. Hank had been waiting years for something like this to test him fully, and he was ready. The years as a semi-professional boxer, and the decades after that life training new up and comers had kept Hank in the best condition around. He was older than most fighters he knew ever got, but he was spry, and strong for his age, and while he was not as fast as he had been when John first met him all those years ago, he was faster than these bums. His voice carried a joy in it… a gladness… as if he had come looking for men just like these cut throat street rats… and he was going to like what happened next. The truth was… he did. He loved every moment of the next seventeen seconds like he hadn’t reveled in a moment for the last twenty six years. He couldn’t have been more elated to be doing anything else in his life than the brutal blur of what happened to those three men that night.]

[Hank started walking calmly towards Johnathan. The first man took a step towards him as the other two turned away from John. Hank leaps into the air nearly flying at the first bum, drilling him square in the face with an open palm strike. The man’s face explodes in a misting spray of red. Hank lands softly on the ground as the man grabs his face, and Hank spins one time, launching his leg forward and cracking the guy in the back of the head, sending him sprawling in the alley muck. The other two men sprint towards Hank, determined to take down the old man who just beat the **** out of their buddy there in two strikes. Hank takes two long strides towards them, and jumps again, launching himself into the air. The men run at him, and he thrusts both of his legs forward, one to the left and one to the right, connecting both solidly into the faces of the men as the two fly under Hank. Their momentum sends them sprawling behind the old man, groaning in pain. Hank walks over to John and checks his pulse gently. He opens John’s eyelids with his fingers, then hoists him up off the ground, and drapes his arm over Hanks neck. The scene fades to black once more.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Hank saved my life that night. I didn’t know it at the time, but Hank had guys watch me all the time. There were plenty of neighborhood kids willing to do far worse to earn a couple bucks than keep an eye on some punk on the streets. He figured paying them to watch me kept them safer than dealing drugs or stabbing rival gang members. Apparently, he had to take on a few more students than normal that year, and even signed on to be a trainer for a guy headed pro real fast. He came to see me whenever he could, and one of his spotters told him I hadn’t moved in a couple of days. He had come that night to take me home, and ended up being my salvation yet again.”

[The scene fades back into the gym in the months that followed. Hank had taken John on as a student, and John took to the work load impressively. The scene shifts through Hank teach John basic striking, working a heavy bag until he hurled, jumping rope until he hurled; training to do bumps and run the ropes of the ring until he hurled, and then hurled some more.]

Johnathan Cable:
“The two years that followed that night were, by far, the most grueling of my entire life. Hank pushed me harder than he had ever pushed anyone, ever. Guys in the industry that heard about it would come by late at night just to watch me train, and comment on my progress. A few times, fight promoters came by, but Hank always threw them out on their asses. He wasn’t training a fighter. He was training his son, because that was what I wanted more than anything. I wanted to make him proud of me, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps one day, and take over the gym. I wanted to train the fighters of tomorrow, and I had the greatest teacher in the world.”

[The scene shifts again through the second year of John’s training. We see John sparring with guys, one after another. Early on, his form and technique were sloppy. He left himself wide open for strikes and submission moves all the time and it often cost him easy wins against fighter that couldn’t go to the later rounds like Johnathan could. His stamina was always his strength. By the eighth and ninth rounds in fights, John was just getting into his second wind, and the other guys, more often than not, were already gassed. Hank harped constantly on stamina winning more fights than strength and heart combined, so John did endurance training ceaselessly. His pain tolerance was mind numbing, and he could definitely go the distance. John never had a professional fight though. Not in that whole two years. As was his way it seemed, john decided his next course of action, regardless of what anyone, including Hank, thought about it. One morning over breakfast…]

John:
“Hank… I think I am ready to start booking professionally… or at least semi-pro. What do you think about getting a hold of one of those promoters that is always coming by to book me in a fight?”

[John eagerly waited for Hank’s reply, hoping that he would be excited for him, and support his decision. What actually happened next still baffles John to this day.]

Hank Winthrop:
“I don’t.

[John looks at him quizzically.]

John:
“What? What does that mean?”

[Hank turns his head slightly to talk over his shoulder to John across the kitchen from the sink.]

Hank Winthrop:
“I said… I don’t. I don’t think anything of it. I don’t think about it at all. Does that answer your question?”

[John sits stunned at the table, mouth hanging agape, shocked at the response that was nothing like the one he expected to hear.]

Hank Winthrop:
“What? Surprise you did it? Did you just expect me to call up one of those sleazy low-lives that drag into here trying to sign you up for their tournaments and don’t give a rat’s ass about your well-being? You want me to sign you up for whatever fight I can get you into, huh?”

[John is visibly taken aback. He wasn’t prepared for this from Hank. He had figured that there would be some opposition, but this was nowhere near what h expected.]

John:
“Well… no… but I…”

[Hank turned around at the sink shutting the water off to give John his full attention.]

Hank Winthrop:
“John… you are better than most of the guys that I have trained. I have pushed you harder and further than I have ever pushed one of my students before, and not only did you not break, you succeeded with flying colors. You have gone through every rigorous training I could come up with, when most of the time, I was just trying to make you quit. No one I have ever trained has gone through what you have in the last two years. John… I have total faith in your abilities, but their kinds of fights, those kinds of men, are not the kinds of men, and definitely not the kinds of fights we need to deal with to get your legitimate career started.”

[John thought about it for a moment before he smiled and looked up at his foster father.]

John:
“But… you agree that it is time to start looking to get me booked and get my career as a fighter off the ground?”

[Hank looked hard at John, his old eyes piercing right through him like a laser beam, before his features softened and Hank actually smiled back at the young man.]

Hank Winthrop:
“Yes John, I do think it is about time to get your career underway. I was just waiting on you to ask me. Let me make a few phone calls, and we will see what I can get worked out, OK?

[John leaps out of the seat and bounds across the kitchen in one step, wrapping Hank in his arms in a huge hug. John was beside himself with excitement. Finally… Hank was going to let him actually get into the ring and fight.]

Johnathan Cable:
“The first time I ever saw that ugly little troll Tony was standing right here next to the ring. He came by one day to try to book me at one of his shows. Hank knew exactly what he wanted, and told him to shove off. Tony was very persistent. That was how Tony got his hooks into me. It was what ended my professional fighting career for the big time before it ever got started. I remember coming through the doors, and that guy was standing over hank, kicking him. Hank looked like he had been worked over pretty bad. I lost it.”

[The scene fades back to the gym the next year. On the wall over the ring was plastered a huge poster advertising an event coming up.]

April 17th
Come one, Come all…
The Gym presents
“Golden Gloves for Futures”
A charity event showcasing hot young talent new to the Golden Gloves Circuit
Raising money to help fight Sudden Infant Death Syndrome
Come see the best fighters in Jacksonville
MAIN EVENT:
Sebastian ‘the Machine’ Harrison
VS
The Hometown Hero
Johnathan Cable


Johnathan Cable:
“It was only three weeks away.”

[The camera pans down to see this guy… long brown hair tied tightly with a black band, wearing a tight black tee shirt and jeans, his black leather boots shined to a polish, kicking Hank in the midsection. The double doors to the front hallway swing open suddenly, and in walks Johnathan Cable, a smile spread across his face from ear to ear, for just… one… moment. As soon as that moment passed, his face contorted into a grotesque mask much like one he might wear today. Rage filled him, and his anguish uncoiled within him. The anger and hate that simmered inside of him had finally found a release, and in that moment, a brutally ugly monster filled Johnathan’s soul, as he ripped into this unknown man who was trying to take Hank away from him.]

John:
“Leave him alone you son of a bitch!”

[John screamed at the man as he began to cover the distance between them, his anger flaring hotly from within his eyes. The rage overtaking him, John stepped twice, planting a foot firmly on the seat of a machine nearby his intended path, and pushed with all his might. The muscle of his leg coiled tight, and extended. His might propelled him upwards as the man came at him, and then, John knew he was about to take his second life, and he looked forward to it. This was the thing that Hank had warned him against. This was the monster that dwelt inside of Hank too, and why he knew all too well that it was hard to fight back into its cage once released. This was the thing that flashed in Hank’s eyes that night some years past now, when he saved John’s life, and this was the same thing John now used to fuel himself to save Hank. John soared across a row of weight benches, and landed, both feet firmly planted in the center of the man’s chest, driving him backwards into the ground. As he hit the floor, and John’s weight crashed down on top of him, John pushed off, with both feet, launching himself forward into a tumbling roll. The man’s ribs cracked with a loud snap that echoed against the steel walls of the gym, and gave way under the strain. His scream was terrifying to say the least. The excruciating pain of breaking nearly all of his ribs simultaneously sent him almost immediately into shock, and he slumped to the floor on his back, with his head rolled to one side. Cable, still enraged, rolls to his feet before the body even stops moving. He takes three giant strides towards the man on the practice mat, pulls his leg back in mid stride, and kicks him in the temple as hard as he can. The man’s head snaps sideways quickly as the sharp crack of his neck can be heard. The force of the impact spins the man around on the floor, and blood sprays the blue training mat in an arc of droplets and splatters. The scene moves forward with John checking on the bloodied but unharmed Hank, and then on the very dead man John had found here that night. He talked to Hank a minute, then called the police. Hank had told him that they had nothing to hide, so he was to call and make the report. John had saved his life, and Hank was grateful. The police came, and John told them what he knew of Tony, and where they could find him.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Tony expected them and was eating dinner at an upscale downtown restaurant. He caused a huge scene when they brought him in for questioning. It made the Channel 4 News that same night. His spin doctors tried to use every excuse in the book as to why his detainment was unconstitutional and some said even violated his civil rights. There was no proof that the man who died that night on the blue training mats with his blood splattered uselessly across the floor in a blossom of red worked for Tony, or that he had ever spoken to him at all. There was nothing that tied Tony to the man at all, but I knew. Hank knew too, and that was all I needed to want nothing more than to make Tony pay for what he had done to Hank.”

[The scene fades back into the gym. Hank is walking slow laps around the ring. John is running the ropes, rifling back and forth as the ring shakes and trembles. He launches himself first off of one rope then takes three giant steps before turning and launching himself off the other side. Back and forth, each boot fall perfectly in time, rhythmically droning on as John runs back and forth tirelessly as the ropes and bolts creak under the strain of his weight flying into the ropes with all his might. The wood slats that make up the frame of the ring grind in their slots on the ring posts as the weight shifts from one side to the other inside the ring.]

Johnathan Cable:
“The night Tony got out of lock-up, he came by. I rushed him as soon as I saw him, but Hank stopped me. He wouldn’t let me kill the bastard where he stood. Tony told me that if I didn’t agree to compete in his tournament the week before my charity fight, that some more visitors would come, and he would hate to see anything bad happen. I agreed. I didn’t care what he did to me… I just wanted him to leave Hank out of it. As it turned out, the week before the charity fight came, and Tony was full of surprises for sure. He sent three of his bruisers in to the cage after me when I refused to finish off the guy I fought that night. I told him that I wouldn’t kill for him. He didn’t like my answer, so I killed the three lap dogs he sicked on me to prove my point. After word got out to the national sponsors by way of Tony’s connections what happened and how I now had five confirmed violent homicides, the fight promoters pulled out of the event all together. The whole thing went south faster than it got hyped up, and before my in-ring career ever got started, it was over. I know now that was Tony’s plan all along. He wanted to force me into fighting for him to earn the cash needed to keep the gym running after the scandal I caused. I did it, and I took my cheap shots every chance I got, but he made a boat load of money of my fights, so he kept me around as long as he could stand to look at me. Those four of Tony’s goons weren’t the last of them either. Before it was all said and done… after Vivian… the bodies started to pile up. It took me a long time to come to terms with everything after that. Doctor Curtis helped me get it all straight, and afterwards I came home to the gym, and home to Hank. He knew the monster running around inside of me, and he knew what I was going through. Between Hank and the Doc, they got me right again… eventually.”

[The scene fades to present day… John is standing on top of a pile of ash and rubble, taking in the damage around him. He looks around at all of the charred pieces of his life, piles of memories that have been stripped away from him in a moment… and for what? To prove what point?

Johnathan Cable:
“After Vivian, I thought my life was over. I loved her for sure… but it was an immature love. It was a fleeting kind of love, but in the moment, when she was taken away from me… It devastated me. For what seemed like ages I locked myself away, and until Hank brought in Doctor Curtis, I was on a one way trip to no-where’s-ville.”

[John walks towards the rows of mangled machines slowly, pushing random object with the toe of his boot as he picks his way across the mounds of debris and ash.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Time passed, and my career with the EWCL took off. In the three years with them, we brought a bunch of new talent through the gym, and Hank had the opportunity to touch even more lives. Mystic and I started the Legion, which changed to the New Breed after the first year or so. We added some new talent, and then Mystic retired. Now that was a bitching party. Aaron and I hooked up and won the EWCL Tag Team Titles, and that is how I met Jessica. I remember the first day I saw her. She came through the double doors of the gym, and I saw her from the ring. I was mesmerized by her. I melted, my feet felt like lead, and my brain was swimming. My tongue swelled up in my mouth, and then it hit me. No… not some miraculous revelation about life in general… Oh no. I got hit with a missile drop kick from the top rope by my tag team partner. Aaron and I were working on some moves when Jessica came in that first day, and I just forgot he was up there. He clocked me square in the face… and then told me to stay away from his sister. A few months later, Jessica and I were planning our wedding. Aaron and I had a few rounds about it, but eventually he came around to the idea. Soon enough, Jessica and I were married at Treaty Oak in downtown Jacksonville. “

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[The scene fades in to a quiet city street in downtown Jacksonville, Florida. It is early afternoon, and already, the sun is beating down on the world with all of its great fury. Just away from the road, is a tall wrought iron fence set in even taller ornate brick columns. A couple of people in nice suits or summer dresses came and went, and a mother walks by with her two children, as they head towards a pretty nice hotel just a block down the road. Inside the entryway, stands a massive oak tree easily centuries old. It limb are twisted together, and its leaves grow into one another along its interlaced cross-hatching of twiggy branches. The ends of its extremities have grown so long, and gotten so heavy that the branches bow deeply, and the ends of the longer ones drag along the ground as they sway in the light breeze of the Florida summer. Beneath the behemoth standing for ages right here, watching the world grow and change around it, is a very large, very old wooden deck. The boards are faded by the years of rain and shine, and warped in places, or cracked and splitting along their entire length. The years have been many since this place was built and sanctioned as a park in Jacksonville, and while worn and withered through the years, its beauty has only grown more so.]

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[We see John nearby, making his way from the parking garage behind the park to the warped deck, aged by time. He takes his place before the Justice, and turns to face her calmly. People are assembled around, standing wherever they can find a place that isn't in the way of the other guests. None of them can wait to see Jessica in her dress... and then, as the moments slide by, the time comes. There is a collective gasp of joy from the crowd, and a turning in unison of the masses to look towards the entryway to the park. There, glittering in the bright sunlight, stand Jessica is her flowing white dress. Her red hair is piled high on her head, and allowed to flow freely down her back. Her thin white straps cling to her shoulders, and her dress flows downward across her fair skin. She begins to walk towards the deck as the sound of the 'Wedding March' begins to play on live instruments behind the crowd. John's buddy Mike had brought his band, and played for the wedding. They joked early on in the day that they would probably play the 'Imperial March' when John made his way 'down the aisle', but Jess had caught wind of it... and firmly put a stop to that. After all, today was her day, and she would have no shenanigans. As Jessica made her way up to the deck, John, cried softly to himself. He had never been happier in his entire life... until later that same day.]

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[After the wedding ceremony, John, Jessica, and the entirety of the gathered crowd made their way back to the gym for the reception. There were far more people gathered for the reception than there had been for the wedding, and that was how the newlyweds wanted it. The wedding was for their small group of family and friends, and the party that ensued after was for everyone they knew. There was a massive five tier butter-pecan cake that Jessica had made all by herself. John's friend's band played all night long, and well into the morning... but the best part of the entire night, at least to John, was when they arrived at the gym after the wedding. Already, nearly a hundred people were piled inside, getting the festivities together for the new couple. Most of them had been there since the night before. Hank had offered to have them all stay overnight there. Jessica was camping at her maid of honor's house, and John definitely was not interested in being in the big house all alone the night before his wedding. He needed people around him to distract him from the next day's big event. When the newlyweds arrived, John grabbed his new wife up into his arms, and carried her through the narrow white wood screen door and into the well-lit front hallway surrounded by family and friends all cheering for them, and their happy day. As he made his way through the big double doors and into the gym, John cheered for himself, caught up in the emotions of the moment, and Jessica laughed as she kissed him passionately. He had never seen her happier... and in this place, they were finally home. They were surrounded by men and women that they loved and loved them in return, and neither of them could have been happier with the day. The party was a hit... and finally, well into the morning, as the last stragglers were either settling down for the night there at the gym, or heading out into the world to go back to their homes. John finally made his way upstairs with his wife, and she excused herself while he got ready to crawl into his bed for the first time with his new wife.]

[John threw on a pair of boxers, and climbed into bed. He was exhausted after the madness of the day, and while he was very interested in making is new bride a very happy wife, the next day would be even longer than today, if that was even possible.]

[Minutes passed, and John nearly fell asleep by himself in their big comfy bed. Then the door to the bathroom creaked open, and John thought he was dreaming. Jessica slid slowly out of the bathroom door, sliding her body against the wooden frame of the door, and then turning, looking at John, biting her bottom lip gently.]

Jessica Cable:
“So... do you like it?”


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Johnathan Cable:
“I... uh.. um...”

[John stares at her in shock. Usually, Jessica wasn't one for sexy lingerie. She was more the type to rip the clothes on the way to the bed and get right to it, but tonight was special it seemed. John smiled the biggest grin he could, and enthusiastically nodded his head in agreement.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Yes... very much. Where have you been hiding it?”

[Jessica smiled, and laughed softly at him.]

Jessica Cable:
“Just never-you-mind mister. I had it hidden away, and it doesn’t matter where. All that matters is that you like it.”

[Jessica made her way slowly towards the bed as John sat up, and slid to the edge hanging his feet off the side. She moved towards him, slowly, as he reached his hands out towards her. She came into his reach, his fingertips trailed along her bare hips, and around her back as he pulled her close to him. He pressed his face against her stomach, and hugged her close to him. He wrapped both arms around her slender waist, and just held her for a long moment while she stroked his hair slowly, thinking about the day... allowing the realization that she was now in fact Mrs. Johnathan Cable to sink in fully before she slid one leg up, breaking the embrace, and over his thigh, and then followed it with her other leg. Jessica slid down into his lap, her legs straddling his hips, as she looked down at her new husband and kissed him gently on the forehead. His hands slid slowly along her back, and then trailed across her ass as he pulled her closer and closer to him.]



[John, having had enough nicety, trails his hands softly up her back, and grips both hands full of her red hair. He bucks his hips and pulls her over onto the bed, sliding his body over hers as his hands move up to the headboard. He presses his lips against hers hard, his tongue darting into her mouth swirling around hers, pressing with a fully fueled desire. Distracted by his passion, Jessica doesn't realize he has finally found what his fingers fumbled for, as he slides a cold metal cuff over her wrist, and locks it in place. She pulls her face away from his, with a shocked look on her face.]

Jessica Cable:
“Oh... it's one of those kinds of nights is it?”

[Johnathan smiles at her with a devilish grin.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I guess it is now, isn't it?”

[Jessica bucks against him, trying to drive his weight off of her, but he expected it, and braces himself for the push to try and free herself. He holds on to her firmly, and slides his other hand around the second handcuff attached to their headboard. Jessica playfully pulls her arm away from him, and tries in vain to keep it away from him. He grabs her around the wrist, and pulls her arm, straining against him, towards the headboard. She struggles weakly, and finally, John secures the second cuff around her free wrist.]

[John slides out of the bed slowly, and smiles at her, a smile full of passion

[The New Breed Foundation]

and intensity.]

Jessica Cable:
“What do you think you are doing? Where are you going?”

Johnathan Cable:
“Nowhere...”

[He says meekly, almost in a playful tone. He makes his way to the bedside stand, and opens a drawer slowly as her eyes go wide. She smiles in spite of herself... as John draws a long leather flogger from the drawer. The black leather tendrils are attached to a short handle, and the soft leather slides over his hand as he draws the soft fingers of hide through his grip. He slowly climbs back in to the bed, getting onto his knees beside her stretched out body, topless, helpless to stop him from having his way with her. His sleepiness has slipped away, and now, his passion rages for his new wife. He takes the flogger, and trails the very tips of the leather against her shoulders, and down her breasts, across her stomach, and then across her cloth covered lips before dragging them slowly down her thighs, across her knees, and down to her feet. John pulls his hand back suddenly, high behind him, and swings the leather strips through the air.]

Crack

[The red welts raise immediately on her fair skin, striping her from her ribs, up across her tits, as she sucks in a sharp breath. The sting was sweet, and felt soooo good. John knew how much she liked to feel the leather on her skin... as he raised his arm once more high behind him...]

Crack

[The welts again raise immediately, her pale skin now bearing a score or more of fine red lines tracing the trail of the leather across her body. Her nipples stand out, taut, yearning for more. Her lips are twisted in a passionate smile as her mouth opens slowly, and her tongue darts across her lips as she bites down on her bottom lips once more. John slides towards the bottom of the bed, and grabs one of her ankles in his hand. He flips her over bodily, and stands at the foot of the bed now, as he pulls his hand up once more, the tendrils of the flogger slice through the air...]

Crack

[Jessica arches her back as the flogger snaps her skin just the way she likes it. Once more, red welts rise on her skin immediately, the lines tracing the path of the leather fingers across her skin. John twirls the flogger through the air, cutting a criss cross figure eight over her back with the leather strips. He brings the flogger down once more...

Crack

[And again...]

Crack... Crack... Crack...

[Three more times the leather snaps against Jessica's pale skin, her back now covered in thin red welts as she moans in pleasure. John reaches up with one hand as he trails the leather fingers of the flogger over her skin softly, the supple leather sliding over the welts, stinging each time they cross one. With his free hand, he grabs the white lace panties with the cute pink ribbons at her waist, and tugs once, twice, then three times as he tears the thin material free from her body, and tosses it over his shoulder. Jessica squeals in delight as the flogger's soft leather fingers slide across her skin. John slides into the bed with her again, and places a knee on either side of her knees, bound, face down, stretched out on the bed. John lowers himself towards her, as he grazes his lips across her shoulder, and takes her skin into his mouth, biting down just hard enough to elicit a passionate moan as he sucks on her shoulder softly. His tongue plays up her neck, and around her ear, nibbling on her gently. John raises his empty hand into the air as he is trailing his tongue across her skin, between her shoulder blades, and down her spine, and swings it, connecting full palm to her upturned ass cheek.]

Smack.

[John grabs her cheek in his hand, and squeezes her flesh in his firm hand. He bites down on her other shoulder as she moans again, and shakes her ass in his hand side to side, pulling on her roughly. He tosses the flogger to the bedside, and uses his free hand to grasp a handful of her scarlet hair again, pulling her head backwards so she can see his face, holding her there, as he breathes a hot, heavy breath onto her sweat slick skin. The cool of the breath on her hot, sweaty body causes her pale skin to goose bump again, and she giggles at the sensation. John lets her hair go as he bites down again on her neck, trailing his teeth across her jaw bone, and driving his tongue into the soft spot just under her ear. He kisses her gently once more, before he lifts her up at the hips, pushing her head down into the soft bed, her sexy ass waving invitingly in the air. John slides out of his shorts as he kisses her shoulders, and gets on his knees behind her. He takes himself into his hand, and with his free hand, he slides his fingers deep inside of her slick slit. First two, then three, and then four, softly at first, but as the moments pass and she wiggles backwards onto his hand, he slides in faster and faster, his thumb playing over her clit, as she is gushing the juices of love and passion onto his hand. John really gets into it, and loses himself in the moment, pulling on her hips so hard her knees come off the bed as she screams at him.]

Jessica Cable:
“Oh ****… JOHN… PLEASE… Give him to me NOW???”

[As John positions himself behind her, the scene fades once more to present day, John standing on a pile of rubble and ash, the only remnants of a life that once was his. His eyes are closed behind the black mask, and he is smiling, openly, his teeth shining white. He lowers his head, and looks up at the camera, his smile still stretched across his face from ear to ear.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Don’t you hate it when you are in the middle of a great dream… and just before every wish you ever made was about to come true… you wake up.? Me too.”

[John looks around and kicks some more chunks of debris that skitter across the piles of ash likes rocks across a pond.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I bet you are just tearing some poor hotel room a new ******* right now, aren’t you Karl? I bet about right now you are just downright pissed off, aren’t you Karl? I mean… at least I use YOUR name Karl. Ask our resident blood thirsty Vodka drunk all about it. I won’t even call Him by name. He isn’t worth it. Even though he beat me on a Special Edition of XWF Impact… he isn’t worth his name on my lips. At least I use your name Sean. At least I recognize you as a competitor at all Karl. At least you have a roof over your head tonight Sean! Look at what I have left Karl… LOOK AT IT!”

[Johnathan extends his arms out to encompass the burned skeleton of what remains of his life. He looks up at the sun high in the clear blue sky, and he lifts his hands towards his face. He places his palms on the sides of his head, and spin around suddenly, as if a maddening pain had taken a hold of him. He claws at the straps holding his mask to his face, and rips them from their latches, pulling the leather away from his head as fast as he can get it off. He inhales a deep breath suddenly, as if he had not been able to breath for a long while, and he tears at his scarred features until they are red and swollen.]

Johnathan Cable:
“Are you happy now Sean? Are you happy now that you have taken away everything I have ever cared about? Was it enough for you that you murdered my father and burned our home and business to the ground, Sean? Was that what you needed to make you feel all better inside after your loss to me last month on the Pay Per View? You killed my dad Sean. You killed him. My Father is dead because of you, Sean… “

“But wait! With the Royal Family… there is always MORE… isn’t there Sean? ISN’T THERE, YOU SON OF A BITCH? Yeah… you wouldn’t be the MOST twisted mother ****er out there if ALL you did to me was burn down my house and kill my father. Oh NO… NOT ****ING SEAN CORVIK! On top of the news that you barbequed the only home I have had since my real parents were murdered, and the only man who ever gave a God DAMN about me is no longer because of you… I found your note. Cute, Corvik. ****ing Adorable! You really knocked one out of the park with this one man… I’ll tell you. Not only do you burn my house to charred cinders and murder my father, but while you and your goons were here, you kidnapped my wife. You came in here, with your greasy filthy ****ing hands and you grabbed her, and your groped her and you shoved her in your dirty ****ing van and you tossed a lighter in on a broken down old man before you sped off with my wife you mother ****er.”

[John takes a long deep breath as he sinks to his knees in the dunes of ash all around him. His head bows, and his arms flop lifelessly to his sides. Tears stream down his scarred face, the salt stinging the scrapes he had inflicted to himself moments ago. As he wails his anguish to the heavens, the ashes drift and float around him, as a gust of wind kicks up bits of charred papers and launches them into the sky.]

Narrator:
“Well, Karl. You seem to have done a fine job this time, now haven’t you? When one tries to gain attention for themselves early on in their career, it can go one of two ways for them. You see, the first way… the way that every single aspiring anything wishes for… is the Tristan Slater start. By chance, he found himself in just the right time and just the right place to earn a championship from the XWF right away. The only thing that truly makes Slater great, is his tenacity to hold on to what belongs to him. His desire to walk away from anything, and still keep the Belt that he knows is his, is the ONLY truly remarkable thing about the man. It’s downright impressive… but it’s all he has. That XWF Championship is what Tristan Slater is made of… and without it… well… he is just ‘A’ Tristan Slater. ‘A’ Tristan Slater shrivels and dies without the spotlight, and will fight to survive like no other animal on this planet. That is how he has kept his Title for as long as he has. To him, there is no option for quit. There is no try again another day. Every day is the only day you get… and Slater understands that… but his beginning was lucky, and nothing else.”

“Now, the second kind of man… the kind who does this massive thing to not just gain notoriety, but to instantly ascend into the stratosphere among the men around you… well you find yourself knowing nothing about a man before you do a thing that will cost you more than you are willing to put up. I learned early on that you never bet on anything unless you can afford to lose what you wager. Sounds like a super smart idea right? Well Karl… you placed a bet with more cash than your ass has jingle, and now… you are ****ed.”

“You see Karl… that gym was everything John had left of the man he called his father. That man SAVED HIS LIFE Karl. He saved his life for Christ sake. But Karl… beyond the fact that it was all that he had left to him from his father, for all your desire to call attention to yourself by setting the house on fire… you didn’t even realize that all you did was make yourself to be like another man… a man who was far more ****ed up than you will ever dream of being. You made yourself out to be a man who was by all accounts, crazier than Shane Carver and THAT GUY’s love child. No ****. Serious real talk here Karl. I want you to know… that when John ran away from the EWCL after rescuing Jessica from the Royal Family, he underwent years of treatment to deal with his hatred of one Sean Corvik. After what Sean did to Jessica, and after killing Hank, and burning down the gym all in one night… He had more hatred in him for Kritical Kondition than any other man on the planet… and then Sean disappeared. That was what finally got John back over the edge before he fell off for good. Sean went away, and no one ever heard of him again. John started to feel safer for his wife as time went on, and now… well now Karl, you have really gone and screwed this thing up pretty good haven’t you?”

“That man down there thinks you are responsible for his father’s death, and his wife’s disappearance and he probably thinks you have raped her. That’s what Sean did. That’s what MacBeth did. That’s what every last one of them did Karl. They took turns holding her down and gang ****ing her Karl… and that man… her husband… thinks that you are the guy that did all of it. Guess who won’t be showing up on Monday at Madness Karl? Oh come on… just take a guess? Not one for guessing games Karl? Are they a little trying for you there little guy? OK… Now I just feel like a guy holding a piece of cake over a fat kids head. Fine… I’ll tell you, but you may not like the answer I give you Karl. Ready? OK… Here it is: Johnathan Cable will not be appearing in your European Title fight this Monday Karl. Yeah… that’s right. John will not be there on Monday.”

“What? Oh what kind of pussy does he think he is? You burn down his house and he has some mental breakdown, and he thinks he can just skip out on your match…?”

“No Karl. He won’t be skipping it either. You see while John won’t be there… that man down there will. You woke the sleeping Beast Karl… and it will be the Beast you face on Monday.”

“Karl… you see… what you had hoped to accomplish in setting his house on fire was the same thing that THAT GUY thought he could accomplish by yelling at him, and even beating him fairly in the middle of the ring… but he failed, and so did you. There was nothing wrong with your plan. Both of you did very good jobs. Your efforts were really cute… but… you see… no matter what YOU do… you still aren’t good enough. You’re a school yard bully picking on asthma patients. You think that when Johnathan was in a lucid, normal state of mind, for just one second, that he didn’t understand why you accepted this match so fast? He knows Karl. Or at least he did until you sent him off the deep end again… and now… God save your soul Karl.”

“But yes… Karl… when he was not this raving animal you have reduced him to over and over again now I imagine with your Lion King/AceVentura/Gay Barnyard-Testube whatever the **** it is that you have probably dribbled onto film and put up this week… he knew exactly why you HAD to accept this match the moment the challenge fell from his mouth.”

“The real truth here Karl… is since Randall Cross screwed John out of the Title and handed it right to you… You NEED to beat John… or your Championship is invalid. That scares you more than anything else in the world doesn’t it, Karl? You are probably pissing in your litter box right now in some bomb shelter just waiting for Monday to pass you right on by before you come out and hand over HIS XWF European Championship, aren’t you? You KNOW that the Belt doesn’t belong to you Karl. You accepted it as your own, and you made all these pretty fluffy banners and posted them all over XWF99.com, and in the end, Karl… when it is all said and done… you wasted the ink. You couldn’t give away all of the damned Karl Cross XWF European Championship **** you have had massed produced fast enough to get rid of all of it before John comes and takes the Belt that is rightfully HIS in the first place. Monday night Karl. You screwed the pooch on this one… and at the end of the night, whether he sees you or he sees Sean Corvik… the ass beating is the same. The only difference is one way, at least you can be proud you were involved in the biggest epic beat down of the XWF Century, and the way, you weren’t even important enough for him to see the real face he was pounding on.”

“I just need to ask you one more thing Karl… if you don’t mind? Why didn’t they make a poll for you Karl? It would have made more sense that way. Barnyard… Test tube… sheep clones? No? Not that funny? I’ll keep trying. Comedy is always a work in progress anyway.“

[The camera pans slowly towards John still sobbing, slumped on his knees in the ashes of his former home.]

Johnathan Cable:
“You have one more day Sean. On more sunset. One more sunrise. One more car ride. One more arena. One more crowd. One more opponent. THIS time… I will ****ing kill you!”

[With that… the scene fades to black.]

[Loki]

So the bits I did read I liked, very well written. But as multiple people said in the other thread most PCW rp's are a bit shorter, generally around One to Two thousand words. We're not going to run you off for posting long rps, but you may not get the reaction you're looking for with them. Just a friendly thought.

[The New Breed Foundation]

Andrea Romero (speaking on the phone):
“Hello… Miyoko?”
…
“Yeah, it’s Andrea Romero. I uh… I need to tell you something, and I am pretty sure you aren’t going to like it.”
…
“Well…”

[Andrea takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. She had put this off as long as she could, and she was terrified of telling her the dark secret she had kept hidden for the last two days.]

“On Friday night… while some attendants were escorting her back to her room after some testing, Jessica assaulted them. In the fight, she did some serious damage to the attendants before… she uh…”
…
“Before she broke her neck and died.”
…
…
…
“No. John doesn’t know. That’s the other thing I called about.”
…
“I was supposed to meet him on Friday night when I got done at the hospital… but that was before… before IT happened. I went to see her and sent John to the house to see what we could do to salvage the place after the damned fire. It was after I left that she attacked the attendants.”
…
“Well… that is why John doesn’t know yet. I don’t really know where he is.
…
…
…
“Yes I understand that if he doesn’t show on Madness for the Main Event he is fired. I know that Miyoko… I just…”
…
…
…
“He wasn’t there.”
…
“Just what I said. I went to the house after I left the hospital. John wasn’t there. I saw where he HAD been there… but he wasn’t there when I got there. I tried to call him, but his phone is off.”
…
“Yeah I saw it. I read over some of the articles about the last fire back when he was in the EWCL. It was all over the news when the Family murdered Hank. They got away with it, because no one could prove that any of them were ever there to set the fire. John was pissed and Hank and Jessica got so worried about him that they Baker Acted him.”
…
“Well, Miyoko… have you heard from Karl Cross today?”
…
“Someone should call him and make sure John hasn’t found him yet. At least Cody had a head start and John hadn’t lost it. Karl really kicked the bear with this Miyoko. I think it would be safe to let Randall know he should have some extra security on hand to peel John off of Karl. He is liable to kill him.”
…
“I’ll let you know if I find him.”
…
[Andrea clicks the ‘End Call’ button and the scene fades in from black to the back hallways of the arena where people are just starting to get the show ready for Madness tonight. The camera pans through the maze of halls as we watch the men and women scramble around. We see Randall Cross checking over a clipboard with a tech going over specs for the show later. People are hauling large boxes or rolling equipment trunks from one end of the labyrinth of back hallways to the other, getting everything ready for the big night.]

[The camera moves down the hall and we see rooms on the left with name cards on each one. They are the names of the XWF Superstars scheduled to be here tonight. All of the doors are closed, except for one. As the camera gets closer, we see the name card on the door reads: Johnathan Cable/the New Breed. The camera moves slowly into the room and we see a small set of lockers, the burgundy couch, a metal framed wooden bench, and a recliner… but no Johnathan, no Andrea, no one in the room at all.]

[The camera pans around, leaving the empty dressing room, and back down the hallway, where we see an entryway covered in a thick black curtain. The opening to the arena perhaps? The camera moves closer as the curtain parts way and we move into a dark tunnel with another thick cloth curtain at the other end. The camera moves forward as this curtain too parts before it, and we emerge on the top of the ramp leading into the arena. The seats are empty, and the XWF Technical Crew is hard at work setting up the masses of lights and sound and pyrotechnical equipment required to host a show of this magnitude.]

[The camera pans around the arena, and still, there is no sign of Johnathan Cable. The scene fades to black as his camera makes its way back into the maze of the backstage to try to find John somewhere else in the building.]

Johnathan Cable:
“I told you Sean… I ****ing told you if you laid one ****ing finger on her I was going to kill you… you son of a bitch.”
[We hear Johnathan whispering in the dark. His breathing is heavy and more than a little erratic. Wherever he is, it is dark, but we can hear things, albeit a little muffled, but we can still hear them.]

Man’s voice:
“Bring that box of lights over here Bob. Greg… set this rigging and get it attached to that fly bar? OK guys, once we get these lights affixed, we can float this bar and get it set for height and angle. Who wants to go up in the air today?”

[We hear several voice grumbling about not wanting to do it this time, and then the sound of metal clanking to the floor loudly as what sounds like meal tubing can be heard rolling across the floor and coming to rest.]

Man’s Voice:
“Jesus H Christ Jim… you tryin’ ta’ break the whole damned light kit? What the hell are you doing?”

[The voices continue and the sounds of people building things can be heard. Every now and then we hear Johnathan whispering in the dark about Sean Corvik, and the atrocious things that he had done to him more than ten years ago.]

Narrator:
“John has completely convinced himself that this is 2003, and tonight, he is going to face Kritical Kondition Sean Corvik. Karl Cross has completely unraveled what took Doctor Curtis years of therapy, and Jessica even more years of understanding and compromise to overcome. John had to relearn how to even BE a person, and it took him this whole time he was out of the business just to get back a semblance of normalcy. Now, what would he do? How would Karl Cross even hope to survive the night?”

Johnathan Cable:
“I tried to tell you that you were dangerously close to a line I wouldn’t abide Sean… and you ignored my warning. You told the world that I wasn’t grown enough to keep my promise. I told you I would stop you Sean… and I mean to do just that.”

Narrator:
“You see Karl… you think that tonight is about you winning the XWF European Championship and validating your joy. You think that tonight is about shutting John up once and for all. You think that tonight is about becoming famous. You are wrong Karl. Tonight… for you… is about getting out alive. There is no question about who IS the XWF European Champion. The REAL Champion is waiting… waiting for you to show your face Karl… so he can knock it off of you. The REAL XWF European Champion doesn’t even remember you exist Karl… because you couldn’t even come up with an original way to get his attention. You had to do a half ass job of copying someone else’s work Karl, and I do mean HALF-ASSED. Seriously… the guy who did this before you Karl… he was a master manipulator. You are just a little boy who has no idea what he has gotten himself into. Tonight Karl, has nothing to do with you winning a Championship that you have held onto for only seven days by the grace of another man. Tonight has nothing to do with you earning the respect you crave so much. Tonight, for you at least Karl… is more about terror and pain. Tonight, is all about a nightmare for you Karl… a nightmare you can’t wake from… a dream so deep, you may never return. Tonight Karl… you just worry about breathing, and let the Beast worry about what to do with the XWF European Championship. It IS his after all.”

Johnathan Cable:
“I’m waiting Sean. I am waiting to hear your voice Sean… and when I do… your ass is mine.”

[With that, the scene fades to black.]

[Deleted]

Jan 10, 2013 19:47:00 GMT -5 Loki said:

So the bits I did read I liked, very well written. But as multiple people said in the other thread most PCW rp's are a bit shorter, generally around One to Two thousand words. We're not going to run you off for posting long rps, but you may not get the reaction you're looking for with them. Just a friendly thought.

You will lose points for posting roleplays that long. While it may not seem fair, there are a lot of handlers here and a lot to judge; things can be tastefully condensed to get the point across. It's not something I exactly agree with, but the rules are clear about it so I don't have a serious gripe about it.

[A Ghost in the Wind]

TL;DR

No, seriously, too long, didn't read. I'll get to it, I 100% promise. But right now is not that time. Btw, welcome to PCW. I have no clue who you are. Please post a profile and I will have Eira flash you...a smile.

[Deleted]

I'll flash you more than a smile.

[High Tide]

He'll make it part of your smile

[Loki]

Don't make me call the party van on you two.

[Eira]

Jan 10, 2013 20:29:44 GMT -5 A Ghost in the Wind said:

TL;DR

No, seriously, too long, didn't read. I'll get to it, I 100% promise. But right now is not that time. Btw, welcome to PCW. I have no clue who you are. Please post a profile and I will have Eira flash you...a smile.

+1

[Ace Anderson]

So if you're coming from XWF, or at least were there at one time, how did you come to PCW?

I'm always curious how people find us in the sea of e-feds that are.

[The New Breed Foundation]

Jan 10, 2013 21:38:51 GMT -5 Ace Anderson said:

So if you're coming from XWF, or at least were there at one time, how did you come to PCW?

I'm always curious how people find us in the sea of e-feds that are.

I have a friend here. He sent me the link.