[LONDON] (2) Ravager vs. (3) Larry Tact

[TH]

Regional semifinal matchup held at the O2 Arena in London, England.

One fall to a finish, no time limit, all regular rules apply. Deadline is Friday, April 25th @ 11:59:59 PM EDT, give or take a second.

 

[Ravager]

A restaurant in Burlington, Vermont. Which one doesn't matter. It's an hour after Ravager's win in the second round of the TEAM Invitational Tournament. The former NAPW champ, the current TEAM Challenge champ, is trying to let the events of his last match sink in fully.

I never said this would be easy.

This job isn't always fun.

Every man who steps in that ring leaves in some sort of pain.

But when you get your hand raised at the end of the match, it's all worth it. And so I leave behind one stiff challenge, and look forward to another.

Larry Tact.

A man who looks to have as much, if not more motivation to keep winning as I do. Granted, I don't have mysterious individuals looking to do me harm if I lose. All I got is my own demons.

You see Larry, with every loss I absorb, it seems that I'm further and further away from finding a permanent home to showcase my talents. NAPW does not seem to want or need me back right now. REBEL only wanted me for one show. Yet in TEAM, I'm a champion. One week away from holding the TEAM Challeneg title for over a year. At this point in the Invitational, I've gotten farther than I ever have before. I'm finally getting noticed. I'm finally putting aside past failures. But if I lose to you, I'm back where I started.

Unknown. Un-noticed. Insomeone else's shadow. And I can't have that. Not again. So Larry. You're going to bring everything you got. I know that full well. You have momentum, beating a wrestling legend to advance to this round. You have motivation. I already covered that.

But you also have an opponent with a relentless drive to win. Someone who'll obsess over correcting every small mistake in order to get ahead. Someone who'll go to ridiculous lengths to erase every past failure.

Someone who is not afraid to hurt people. Even people he may respect. Because in the end, this is nothing personal. Just business.

But after I'm done with you Larry, you may wish you had dealt with the Cubans instead.

Fade to Black.

 

[Starbreaker]

Sweet Sixteen Agony.

A dark screen. After a few moments, the sound of steps is heard as a clear picture appears on-screen. The shot is backstage, approaching a curtain, where there is a buzz of voices. Parting the curtain, we find a room with a crowd of media, facing a table setup on a small elevated area. Standing at a podium between two tables is a clean shaven Larry Tact, hair neatly tied back; dressed in a dark blue blazer and slacks, along with a white button-down shirt underneath, the top button undone. At one table sits an attractive brunette in a dark green silk dress. At the other sits a somewhat older woman and man, wearing a dress and suit, respectively. There also sits a man wearing a black business suit.

LARRY TACT: "In any case, my family and I would appreciate if you'd respect our privacy in this matter. Any other questions, I'll let my lawyer answer on our behalf. Thank you."

With that, the man in the black business suit stands and takes up position at the podium. Tact and the others prepare to leave the stage. As they do, Tact whispers something to them, and they head off away from where we are watching, disappearing behind the curtain on the opposite side of the stage. Tact, himself, heads our way.

The camera moves back some as he comes through the curtain, immediately spotting the camera and not looking surprised. He doesn't get far from the curtain before being approached by TEAM interviewer, Brian Weissbrod.

BRIAN WEISSBROD: "Larry Tact, we just heard you give a statement to the wrestling media, concerning the recent speculation that there is some pressure being put on you by some unknown party. Care to elaborate on that for TEAM?"

He shrugs.

TACT: "Aren't you part of that media group? Spare me... I don't have more to tell you than what I just got finished telling the rest of them out there. Last week, I had a strange phone conversation-- at TEAMs offices, no less-- with someone I don't have the slightest clue of. It seems like either some stalker is coming out of the woodwork, or... someone's got a reason to try getting under my skin. Either way, since my second round match... which is when this mystery person said they would get back in touch with me... I haven't heard a peep. A stupid prank, I suppose...."

WEISSBROD: "What about your attitude during that call, then? It sounded as though whoever it was on the other line did in fact get under your skin. They mentioned some words you had at another event. Words that maybe weren't meant to be aired publicly, by the sound of it. What about that?"

Tact looks slightly irritated for just a moment.

TACT: "I don't appreciate when people who are too afraid of even showing themselves to me decide to play critic. If you want to take me to task on something... do it to my face. Hell, even use the media. But don't stalk me to a location so you can make a cryptic phone call. If that's what it takes for someone to come forward to me, I don't want to hear that my words caused them offense."

WEISSBROD: "Is it true, then, that what you said gave some reason for this?"

Tact scoffs.

TACT: "If you really want to know, you can see with everyone else... when Banned in the US airs. I don't have much more to say on the issue. Honestly, whoever it was had their fifteen minutes of my time. I'm not about to extend it a second further. I'm on to the Sweet Sixteen. That's what I'm focused on."

He begins walking down the hall.

WEISSBROD: "How about a comment on your upcoming Sweet Sixteen match, then?"

TACT: "Yeah. When I decide to, I will."

He walks off. FADE OUT.

FADE IN: on a "TEAM Invitational Tournament: Sweet Sixteen" backdrop. Standing in front of it is Larry Tact, wearing a sleeveless black shirt with, "Simply Tactilizing" written across it in gold cursive. He also has on a pair of stonewash blue jeans, and a pair of blue-lensed, silver-framed sunglasses. His hair hangs loosely at either side of his face as he looks at us intently, not wasting any time.

TACT: "I'll be brief on this point. I try not to get my personal and professional life intertwined often. Occasionally, something happens that brings them together... and I get a flurry of people finding out about things that just don't have a place in this business. So now that everyone who matters seems to know about this little conversation I had last week... I had the unpleasant duty of putting it all to rest."

"Y'know, I put my body on the line each and every time I go out to the ring. I compete with nothing short of everything I have to offer this business every week... every night... every match. And I don't have a problem doing that, otherwise I wouldn't be. It isn't about money for me. It's about one thing... the same thing that got me into wrestling in the first place: my love for it, and my desire to leave my mark. So yeah, I'll put my body on the line, give it to wrestling... but I won't have this wrestling infecting other things. I've gone down that road before, and learned to make sure it doesn't happen. There are too many diseases in this business... and I don't need to take them along when I'm out of it."

"There's a timeless expression that suits all this well... pardon if I don't sh** where I eat."

He gives a grunt, then waves a finger for a moment.

"But don't think I'm going anywhere... anytime soon. I've just reached the start after all. Cracking into the Sweet Sixteen of the TEAM Invitational... to me, that just means I've entered the tournament as it really starts to heat up. And I'm ALL about that."

He crosses his arms over his chest.

"When I saw the brackets go live for this tournament, there was something I did differently than in previous years. I took a closer look at them. I looked at the people in my bracket... and y'know what? I saw something I really could look forward to. If all things worked out as they should, which isn't always a great chance in these tournaments... I felt like I would get at least one match out of this that I've wanted for some time."

"Now, having arrived at the Sweet Sixteen... I'm getting my match."

"I get to face the TEAM Challenge Champion. Ravager."

He smirks.

"I have to say, I was a tad surprised at what you had to say. You've held a Championship for almost a year's time, in a promotion that gathers talent... and attention... from all different promotions and circuits. That's one of the unique facets of TEAM, of course. So with that in mind, it brings to mind... how is it that you've gone overlooked, Ravager? What is it that keeps you from gaining exposure, when TEAMs been a place where you've held Championship gold for a while?"

"Maybe it's who's been challenging you. Maybe it's your own damn fault. I'm not really sure... and really, it doesn't matter at the moment. Because you're not going against someone who waits to receive calls for work, or credit for what they've done. You're stepping into the ring with someone who just goes out... finds what he wants... and works his way there, one grueling step at a time."

"One thing I've gained from this tournament, each year, is a constant reminder of how working your ass off is still relevant in this business. Because it's real simple... you work your tail off, each and every match, and you're going to be in it for the long haul. If you slip, make a mistake in not focusing on the task at hand... then you're likely going to be beat."

"I don't mind playing with those rules, because quite frankly, I work my ass off. I make each drop of sweat a drop on my canvas, and each match part of an art I create with my own hands, my body-- a craft I continue refining. And with the eliminations I've suffered the past two tournaments? Those have strengthened my will to continue working harder."

"And now I find myself in the Sweet Sixteen, with a challenge that I can really get into."

He scratches his chin.

"Frankie Scott? He isn't any 'wrestling legend' I know of. And Fire God... well, honestly, I don't know what the hell he was, except humbled. Those two weren't serious about this tournament, at least not this year. I was. And it's just like I said last week... I don't want to hear anyone saying anything about who I faced. They were set across from me, and I stretched them out, broke them down, and put them out of their misery from this tournament."

"Now, though... I get to do it against someone who might mean something."

He nods, uncrossing his arms.

"Because really, this match has been one that probably should have happened some time ago. I got slightly detoured by the TEAM Free For All~! and took that title. And Karl Brown and I had a set of solid matches. But now there's nothing in our way, nothing to stop our courses from colliding... and I'm been hungry for upsetting a Champion. I'm ready to change the fates of London, and break up the nice, orderly seeding that's gone on to this point."

"It's suited my purposes well enough. I get a match with a Champion, and a man who has built up a nice rep in TEAM for being able to adapt to different challenges. Anyone who knows anything about this business could look at you and tell.. 'Yeah, he's a solid. He can take it to anyone on a given night.' "

"And I know, Ravager. There are some matches that are mere formality. You get in the ring and you take on someone who doesn't really deserve your full attention. It's someone you beat because you need to in order to get where you're going. I give them my full attention, anyway... and then a match like Fire God happens."

"But I know this one's not just a formality. This time, it's deserving of what I bring to the table. You are deserving of it, Ravager. Because I expect you will bring that motivation. You'll give me a match that could potentially hurt me. You could do a lot of things..."

"Winning, though... that might not be on the table for you. Because I didn't work through those first two rounds... get to this point... just to be set down by a guy who has some insecurity complex about where he belongs."

His mouth curves down to a frown.

"See, while I can respect what you have done, Ravager, I'm also not blind to where you fall a bit short. Loss isn't something you try to erase. You better damn well not forget about your failures, or you'll just make the same mistakes! No, mistakes are something you find a way to turn your way. Because you can't correct every mistake... you can't avoid every loss... you just find a way to make them work in your favor. That's the difference between a solid player... and someone at the top of their game... at the top of THE game!"

"That's where I'm headed, Ravager. To the top. And if I have to show you that your thinking needs a little... tactful adjusting, in order to get where I want to go? Then I'll make it happen. I'll use what I've learned from my past losses, and send you packing. Then you can get to work on adjusting that little philosophy of yours."

He reaches up and removes his sunglasses.

"It's almost ironic that you brought up wanting to erase your past failures, and not hesitating hurting people you respect. In all honesty, I can relate to that. There's been more than one instance in my career where I've been opposed by someone I respected. Just last tournament, I ran into that very situation. It's not pleasant, and it isn't something I ever relish going through."

"But it's not something to think on. You can't think twice about taking on anyone in this business, even if you have some connection. I don't think I'm a great person for doing it, but I've hurt those who I respect. I've even gone and hurt those who I've cared deeply about... on a level you'll probably never have to deal with, if you have any good fortune in this forsaken business."

"Y'know what, though? Maybe those are the times I've learned the most from, too. Those times I've come face-to-face with someone I respect, and struck them down..."

"The times when I've done something that causes pain to those I've cared about..."

"Some people will tell you it's unforgivable, going and knocking someone on their ass, who's helped you survive through some rough patches. They'll make you a demon. They'll say you don't gain anything from it, except the blood that soaks in on your hands, and gets under your fingernails, right into your very being. Because that doesn't disappear, they say... that will stay with you forever...."

"They might be right, about a lot of that. I used to wear gloves when I wrestled, for one thing. I've long since ceased doing that, once I realized I was doing far worse than bloodletting in that ring. I was doing worse than hurting people. But it's a pact you make with that ring, when you enter it."

"But what they don't tell you, because they aren't in the thick of it.. they don't realize, Ravager... what you only learn from making such monumental mistakes as these... is that it EMPOWERS you that much more! It makes you even stronger. And therein lies the truth about this business, Ravager..."

"Nobody is clean. Nobody is without their sins here. We come in, at best, as people who want to win the Big One. That means different things to different people. For one it's Championship gold. For another it's an insane match they come out on top of. For another it's just an insane match they survive. Anyway you slice it, it's the Big One, each of us defining it how we will."

He holds up a hand, looking down at it as he clenches and unclenches it.

"Of course, there's a price for getting to that Big One, too. I've not only gotten to, but won the Big One before. I found out there's ANOTHER Big One after it... and then another. Because wrestling is infectious... the more you love it, the further you sink into it... the deeper the infection. Sure, I try to keep my personal life separate, but I know it'll be some time before I extract myself to really living in it."

"Maybe the better question is... will I be able to live it, by the time I'm done?"

He balls his hand into a fist, punching into his open palm and looking back up.

"Right now it's not important. What matters is taking that next step, into the Elite 8. And you can damn well bet I'm feeling the power, thus far. The nice thing is, you don't mean a damn thing to me, Ravager. So no matter how long it takes... beating you into submission... it's not going to be much of a sacrifice on my end."

"The biggest sacrifice will be on your part... when I break down that aura of the Challenge Champion, and force you out of this tournament... with elimination."

Tact walks off the screen, a smirk on his face once again... when the lights flicker slightly and go out.

There is a brief commotion heard, and a few seconds later, the lights are restored... only to display the TEAM Invitational backdrop torn almost from corner to corner. Revealed behind the backdrop are words, scrawled out in streaking crimson:

NO PRANK
LARRY NOW YOU MUST
PROVE YOURSELF ONCE AGAIN
A SWEET SIXTEEN WIN
OR NEVER LEARN WHAT BECAME
OF THE SWEET TEEN BLOOD
OF YOUR PAST
​

Larry Tact is seen stepping back into the shot, his back turned to us as he looks at the wall. His hands seize up into fists at his sides, shaking with the strain, and a slight shiver courses through his body. He finally speaks, his voice caught in an bitter fury.


TACT: "Shut. That. Off."


"NOW."


Fade out.

 

[Ravager]

Re: Sweet Sixteen Agony.

A man who wants privacy doesn't talk to the media.

A man who wants his personal and professional life kept apart does so by keeping them apart.

A man who wants to make a name for himself goes after a champion.

And a man who wants to end up disappointed?

He underestimates Ravager.

The Ogden Legion, in Calgary. Dramatic pause. Alberta. Canada. Site of NAPW's UNTOUCHABLE. A car pulls up and parks. Out of it steps Ravager. Dressed casually tonight, as he's only a spectator for this show.

I sympathize with you Larry. I really do. I know what it's like for someone to try and mess with your head. I've had opponents try to use my family against me. I've been given the choice:

Lay down for your opponent, or else.

I know what you must be going through.

Apprehension.

Anger.

And maybe a bit of fear. I mean, we're all human, and only a compete idiot fears nothing. So I understand your added motivation. And I understand why you had the press conference asking for your privacy. And I understand why you allowed that cryptic message to be released at the end of your last message. You know what? I would have done the same thing. Because for a minute there, it almost worked.

I caught myself thinking: What could be so bad that he's being blackmailed? Does he need this win more than I do? Would I be the better man to...

Ravager smirks.

I'm not calling you a liar, Larry. You have proven to be more of a competitor than that. But you have to admit, the added psychological motivation. The extra fan support. Doing just enough to throw me off my game. And lo and behold, we have an upset, and Ravager falls short in yet another TEAM tournament. Not this year Larry. Not after getting this far. You say I don't mean a damn thing to you, Larry? That's too bad. Because you mean the world to me.

You're a former TEAM Free For All Champion. A title came up short of winning.

You've scored wins over Karl Brown, a former Merrit Trophy winner.

You've made it this far in the tournament. That's saying something.

But the most important thing for me?

You're my opponent for this round.

Forget titles. Forget the past. All that matter is you're the man who will try and keep me from winning this tournament. You will get the same focus, fury, and punishment that I gave to Ronaldodinho. To Cameron Cruise. You will not be treated any differently than any other opponent. Because the instant I start thinking of someone as "beneath me", or "a lesser challenge"?

That's when upsets happen. And I'm tired of that. I'm tired of being the guy who makes people famous. I want some fame for once. I mean, having the Challenge title is great. I am honored to have it, and will defend it as long as I can breathe...

But to win the TEAM Invitational...

To be the best out of sixty four of the World's greatest.

That's just a little bit more special. That's something you carry with you the rest of your career. And I'll be damned if I let you keep this from me Larry. Respect, sympathy, empathy, it can all be damned.

You don't see me as the threat I really am. You're not giving me the respect I deserve. After all that you said, you just don't get me.

I've learned from my mistakes.

I've caused pain to people I care about. And to people I despise.

I have never claimed to be clean. And I don't think I ever will be. Not after what I've done to get ahead. What I've done to play mind games. What I've done to make my name in this business. I've atoned enough that I can live with myself. Enough that the fans will cheer me. But in the end? My heart is as black as night, and I live with that. Because it has empowered me. It's pushed me for a year as Challenge champion. It's pushed me this far in the tournament. And it'll push me to the elite eight. And the final four. And on to victory.

And the twinge of regret I'll feel once our match is over? The brief moment of wondering "What'll happen to Larry Tact now"?

It'll pass. Not right away. I mean, I'm no monster. Despite what some might tell you. But in the end, I'll live with the consequences of beating you.

Sorry Larry. Nothing personal. Just business.

Fade to black.

 

[Starbreaker]

FADE IN: on a "TEAM Invitational: Sweet Sixteen" backdrop. Larry Tact stands again in front of it, wearing a pair of black leather pants and a gray sleeveless shirt, showing his tanned muscular frame, hair hanging loose, his olive green eyes locked onto the camera.

LARRY TACT: "You want to know one thing that separates us, Ravager? I know where we are right now. I know that this is the SWEET SIXTEEN. And those catchy little one-liners you threw out for us all... they just won't cut it here."

"Worrying about whether you're being respected or not? Not my concern. Your twinge of regret, or moment of wondering? A ridiculous notion, but not my concern. Whether you take this personally or not? I couldn't.. care.. less."

"See Ravager.... it's real simple. I don't really think much of your sympathy, or any of what you feel about what's going on. If you want to be distracted by that, then have a ball. Enjoy the drama that's surrounding my life at the moment. Live vicariously through it, for all I care. Your feelings on the matter mean NOTHING."

"Your insinuation that I'm somehow orchestrating this... it would be laughable, if all this wasn't actually happening to ME. I'd say it was a good try at humor... but honestly, that was pretty weak. And I hope you aren't trying to understand my situation, Ravager... because you clearly have no idea what the hell you're talking about. This isn't about laying down for anyone, it's about one thing, as far as I'm concerned..."

"WINNING."

"Fortunately, that's something I'm real good at doing."

He sets his hands at his sides.

"But the only way your opinion WOULD mean something... is if you were the one responsible for any of this. Because then I'd be ready to rip your (BLEEP)ing head off from your shoulders, and bleed you out. But really... you don't have a reason. You're my opponent this week, that's true... but if you were scared enough of me to have started all this LAST week, before I even GOT to facing you... then the psychological advantage I would already have over you would be daunting. You wouldn't stand a chance. You aren't the one responsible, though."

"Meaning, all your talk about MY situation is just that... talk. Meaningless, a waste of time, like your little one-liners. You do it for your own fascination... verbal masturbation for your heart's content."

"Essentially, you're just another guy at the water cooler, talking about the latest weekly drama because you don't have anything else to say, or anyone else to talk about. So you turn to the real STARS, and see how they're suffering this week. And you laugh about it or become caught up in it, because it makes you feel more confident in yourself. The only difference between you and the guy at the water cooler is that... instead of returning to a cubicle to do innumerable menial tasks in that little hole cubby... you're in my way to the next round, not to mention a possible resolution to all this crap."

"Feel honored by that, because it makes you relevant to the star whose drama you watch unfold before your wide eyes. Given your pale exterior, and the fact you're from Brooklyn... I guess you aren't used to the media being around you. Otherwise maybe you WOULD understand why I went and addressed them. You can't expect those sharks to stay away from something like this; it's got all the makings of a two-page spread in the New York Post. But you're probably more the type to get stoned in Williamsburg, laid out in a shady alley next to a Brownstone. You probably use the Post to roll your fatty, or some tactless thing like that."

He shakes his head, waving it off.

"No matter, because you're the one I'm facing this week, regardless of what you know or don't. And with what's at stake, you can be damn sure I won't underestimate you. I know you've been capable of great runs, Ravager, and I've mentioned you're a Champion... but in your own words, you seem to keep falling short. I guess you'll be in familiar territory, then, once this round is over."

"I never claimed you were clean, and I never said you couldn't learn from mistakes. But when you say 'sympathy and empathy be damned'... then turn around and admit you'll feel a 'twinge of regret?' It sounds like you aren't holding so strong to whatever it is you want to believe. And if your heart's so black... then why bother thinking about any of this?"

"Maybe suddenly we won't hear of it anymore. Ravager will suddenly lose his conscience. Either way, you certainly aren't a monster. Say what you will, but you won't push beyond those feelings, and that'll only commit you towards failing again."

"I, on the other hand, really won't feel anything different doing to you what I've done to countless others: forcing them down against the canvas for three seconds... or contorting their bodies in a submission until they tap out. You sure as hell aren't my friend, and you haven't been a nemesis. Which is why, personally speaking, you don't mean damn thing to me."

"But professionally, you're still in my way, so you're getting handled. If it makes you feel more important, more special, though... I was looking forward to eliminating the Challenge Champion, anyway, before all of this started. Now I just have another reason to."

"But it's just another reason in a line of them. Sure, it means something, but every reason has some significance. And they all point to the Elite 8 right now. They all go through you, Ravager. And so will I, without a second thought, or feeling towards what affect it will have on you."

"Does that really make me a monster? Well, if it does... then sign me on. In the end, what names people call me or labels they give me... they only come from those who don't know anything else to say. They're just like you, Ravager... watching the bigger star go through the ranks, and talking about it for lack of something more interesting to say about themselves."

"But you... you'll get an up-close view of this star, as he turns his attention on you, and only you, for the time of our match. And I'll show you why I'm good enough to say it, Ravager. I'll show you why my motivation only fortifies my talent and ability, rather than compensating for it... and how far you've still got to go, before you can say the same."

"Savor it, Ravager, because it will be a harsh lesson learned."

"And those are the ones that stick."


He walks off screen, leaving the "TEAM Invitational: Sweet Sixteen" logo before us. FADE OUT.

 

[Ravager]

Talk. And talk. And Talk. And Talk some more. The words are well chosen. The phrases eloquent. But in the end? What you have to say, Larry? Nothing new.

Fade in on Ravager, standing in front of the the TEAM Invitational: "Sweet Sixteen" logo.

I'm not going to stand here and try to correct everything you said earlier, Larry. I mean, I thought I made it clear that I didn't think you were orchestrating...

Ravager pauses, and smirks.

See, I almost went ahead and complained anyways.

Larry Tact.

I don't need any labels for you. I don't need to call you names. I know what you are. My opponent. That's all that really matters. I could spend five or ten minutes expanding on that, but really, has anything I've said mattered to you? Have you really even listened to anything I said? I am not some rookie who will be blinded by your skills in the ring. I have demonstrated again and again that I have just as much skill as anyone else in this business. I have proven for the last year that I can adapt to any match this company throws at me, and still come out on top. And I have shown that I can beat any opponent, on any given night. be it brawler, technician, shooter, high flyer, I have taken down the best and brightest the sport has to offer. And I'm not done yet. Not with you Larry. You say you're a bigger star than me? Fine. You've been around TEAM longer. You've had some high profile matches. I'll accept that you're the bigger name in this match. Which makes me the underdog. Which means I have to fight harder. Play dirtier. It means I need to win more than you do. You see, the thing about an inferiority complex, is that you do whatever you can to overcome it. When people said I wouldn't last as NAPW champion, I ground my teeth and fought tooth and nail to keep that belt longer than anyone ever has. When I went into the first TEAM Challenge Title match, I was the odd man in there. Well, we all know how that's worked out in the end.

Demean me Larry. Put me down. Mock my skills. Undermine my confidence. Do whatever you have to do. I've been there before. I'll be there again. All that matters is that, more often than not, my hand is raised at the end of the match. Because I will work, harder and longer than my opponent. I will value the match more than my opponent. I will treasure EVERY win, not just the main events, or the title matches, or the tournament matches. I will move on in this tournament Larry. I will do it at your expense. And you know what?

I'm going to enjoy this one. Maybe even more than the others. And consider this. When I beat you, it gives me a shot at Dan Ryan, who holds the NAPW World title I crave so much. Or Lyndsay Troy, a former Champion of Champions. Or Donovan Astros, the man who ended my record NAPW title streak. Or Kyle Roberts. Enemy, tag partner, opponent. Never faced him one on one. I've had these people in mind all week Larry. Never brought them up until now.

Because that's how important you are to me. You say you won't feel anything when you beat me down?

I can't say the same. I'm going to feel real good.

See you soon, Mr. Tact.

Ravager walks off screen, leaving only the logo as we fade to black.

 

[Starbreaker]

What I do.

FADE IN: on a "TEAM: Road to the Elite 8" logo. Walking onto the screen, a paper in hand, is Larry Tact. He has on a pair of stonewashed blue jeans and a grey t-shirt on, shaking his head for a moment as he turns to stand front-and-center looking at us.

TACT: "No, Ravager... I don't think you've been all too clear about everything. In fact, I'd say you've been hopping a bit all over the place. You've got new things to say, every time out, it seems. Really, though... it's just making you look more like a man grasping at straws than anything else."

He looks down at the paper, then folds it up as he speaks.

"And by that I mean... you go out and tell us all that, you understood why I allowed a cryptic message to be released... and that, you would have done the same thing... but then say you aren't calling me a liar. You might as well not have been half-assed about it, Ravager. Just call me a liar if you want. Don't be afraid! At least it would have made you completely to one side, rather than playing this game of constantly straddling the middle ground."

"First this is nothing personal, just business... now, you're going to 'feel real good' in trying to get the better of me, which sounds like you're going to take this more than a little personal. Not a problem for me, but you'd better get your emotions sorted out."

"You tell me in one breath to forget titles... forget the past. And now, in another breath, you just couldn't help yourself. Apparently I'd somehow been depriving you, because you hadn't been bringing up your past with all these people... Dan Ryan, LINDSAY Troy... Donovan Astros... Kyle Roberts... you'd been keeping it bottled up all this week...

"Just cuz of... l'il ol' me? Aww... I'm just... I'm..."

"Ah, screw it, I can't . I can't pretend and say I'm touched, or some crap like that."

"More like, I'm a little disgusted hearing your (BLEEP)ing and moaning, and saying one thing then another."

He tears up the paper and slings it off camera, looking... well, disgusted.

"I haven't provided enough NEW and EXCITING CONTENT for your ears, Ravager? SORRY! Didn't mean to SOUR your FUN WEEK with me! For the love of..."

He paces a bit, throwing his arms up.

"What is this, WRESTLING or... DAY CARE?! Do I have to treat you with KID gloves, Ravager? I didn't think so, and it's too late now, anyway, so you're just gonna have to suck it up."

He stops, turning back to face us.

"Yeah, I've been listening to you. And I don't believe you've been all that clear on a few points. Unfortunately, I've had to hear you going back-and-forth, trying to decide on what suits you best at the time when you speak."

"Yeah, I know you've shown your skills before. I know you've gone up against some tough competition. I'd hope so, considering you're TEAM Challenge Champion! But you know what, Ravager? I learned a long time ago that it's NEVER enough for them: for the fans, for the people who criticize us in the magazines, the pundits online... you have to prove yourself TIME and AGAIN that you've got it."

"Show again and again that YOU... ARE... GOOD... ENOUGH."

"And really, I expected someone who's in the Sweet Sixteen would have understood that. But then I look at your previous two opponents, and I figure maybe not. I'm not real sure about Ronaldodhino... or whatever the hell soccer-related name he's going by... but Cameron Cruise? I'm pretty familiar with him. I've shown him what you're about to learn... and that's a tactful surrender, in case I wasn't being clear... several times. Not to say he didn't give it HIS all, too, as you say you will. Cruise has also had a taste of Heavyweight Championship gold, in his own right."

"It's more like... it just wasn't enough to take... down... TACT."

"You want to say I'm demeaning you... putting you down mocking you... undermining your confidence... that's fine. Go ahead. But really, when it comes down to it, all I'm doing is telling you how it is, Ravager. I'm just telling you, straight up, what you're doing and what you sound like. And unlike you... I'm not going to change my tune. I'm just going to KEEP telling you. And then, come match time, I'm simply going to back it up."

"I know you're good, Ravager. You're tough. You've gotI what it takes to be a big star. But there are bumps along the way, and from what I've listened to you say, it sounds like you know that better than you'd like. That's just part of the deal, though; when you want those highs, you have to deal with the lows. I've learned that lesson, too."

"Y'know something else I've picked up over the years? Something I've seen from Ulysis Solian to Karl Brown... from people who have set the standard in the past, and those who will carry the future with me? It's that you don't enjoy what you've been through... until it's over. You don't let your emotions get the better of you while you're in the ring; that's a formula veering towards failure. You stay focused on what you have to do... take the opportunities, deal the blows... and when it's over, then you enjoy. Then you feel real good about what you've done."

"Not everyone can do it, Ravager. It's another hard lesson, and one some people never learn. But it's a valuable one. Because whether people love you or hate you.... as long as you have what it takes to beat them... you cannot be denied."

"Ravager... good as you are... it's not going to be good enough, come this round of sixteen. Because you are NOT facing someone who IS going to underestimate you, and afford you that advantage. You WILL be facing someone who IS just as dedicated to winning this match as you... motivations aside... just off of his desire for winning."

"You'll be facing someone who hasn't looked to his past record; only at the present. You're facing someone who doesn't go by the conventions of seeding and upsets; only the hard fact that the better man will best the other. You'll be facing someone who enjoys working his way out of the pack, rising to the top, and taking each step with an increasing poise and intensity."

"You may have faced some of the best, and brightest, this sport has to offer. You may have your reasons fueling you to want to advance."

"But you've yet to face ME. You've yet to face Larry Tact. And while you won't leave London with my respect, Ravager, don't feel offended by that. Very few people earn my respect in wrestling."

"What you will leave with, though, is knowing just who I am...."

"Quite simply... one of the best, and brightest stars... in this industry. And one of the 2008 TEAM Invitational Elite 8."

"And from there, you can do just as my song says..."

"Turn around and pick up the pieces."


FADE OUT.

 

[Ravager]

Re: What I do.

Polish Hall. Edmonton, Alberta. Canada. Ravager is making the long walk backstage towards the ring entrance, ready for his match this night. He stops in front of the camera for some last words though.

Larry Tact.

It's been a long week, hasn't it? The only thing that could have made things even more immature between us if we used the "I'm rubber you're glue" comeback. And for a while there, that was all either of us really had left. When we meet in the Sweet Sixteen, everything we've said will mean squat. Words don't win you matches. They don't get you title shots. They don't get you to the finals of an elite tournament. Skill. Perseverance. Just a small amount of luck. And a willingness to do everything possible to get into the main event. You said I was a challenge you could really get into. A match that really means something. But I'm sure you'd say that about any opponent who has a title belt, seeing as "very few people earn your respect in wrestling". If I didn't have the TEAM Challenge title, would you take me less seriously?

Ravager smirks.

I'm not asking for any praise from you. I know I'll never get that from an opponent, no matter how big the match. But if the only reason you look forward to our match is because of the belt I wear...

Well, you got the first slap to the face in. Good job. Soon I'll get to return my shot. And trust me, I make every strike, every grapple, every single move in the ring - I make them count. No matter if it's some rookie looking to make a name for himself, or a World champion. Or a guy looking to make a name at my expense...

Larry. I already know you're one of the best and brightest in the industry. You wouldn't be here if you weren't. But the same goes for me. From my first NAPW match three years ago to the win over Cameron Cruise just a few weeks ago, I have established myself as one of the hardest working men in the industry. I won a title in my very first match. I have set records, broken records. I have been the standard, the measuring stick, and the target for anyone coming into our business. I have given my all every match. And if you can't respect that...

Then you will get the harshest of lessons when we finally face off one on one. There will be blood. There will be pain. There will be no mercy on either side. But in the end, you will respect me. I will give you no choice but to respect me.

It's personal. It's business. It's everything I value in my career. I will walk through Hell to go on to the Elite Eight. I will walk over the dead bodies of any opponent to get to the Finals.

But I will still respect anyone who gets in my way. Because they will show me more than you have Larry. Skill? You have it. But it won't be enough when the bell rings. I promise you that.

Ravager heads off through the curtains as we fade to black.