"You win, Ice Tre.
"... you win."
FADE: EPW World Heavyweight Champion, reigning King of the Cage, and 2007 Wrestler of the Year, Sean 'Triple X' Stevens threw his hands in the air in submission. He was directly underneath one of the basketball courts, inside one of the most famous sports arena's in the world, LA's Staples Center.
TRIPLE X: Keep my crown. Tell people you're the King of the -- excuse me," he cleared his throat. "-- the K'ang of the Cage. And, you know what?" Stevens asked, pausing as if he were awaiting a reaction. "I won't do or say a damn thing about it."
The Team Invitational Tournament number one seed was dressed in purple and gold LA Lakers gym shorts, a wife beater, ankle socks, and the latest Jordans. Sweat trickled down his face, as he brushed his hair to the side, re-focusing on the camera.
TRIPLE X: You get your pass, Tre. All of your legions of fans get to continue to celebrate your stellar mic work, buffoonery and steadily improving ability to win matches without actually executing a planned wrestling maneuver.
"... and, I let you breathe.
"But, see ... nothing comes without sacrifice, Tre. Remember that. You want to be wrestling's King of the Cage? You GOT it. That crown did nothing but massage my massive ego, and ever since you stole it, I've learned to manage without it. You want my silence? You want me to forget all of the conversations that Cassidy Stewart and I had? No problem.
"I'll forget all of the interferences, all of the headache, and character assasination. I'll forget that you used my name every time somebody questioned you as a credible wrestler, so much so, that it even landed you a sweet six figure deal with Empire Pro Wrestling. I'll forget it all, and pretend that your existence was one big, giant nightmare, if you do one thing, Tre. Just one thing."
Triple X began to walk, hands on his hips in thought. He ended up center court, feet squarely planted on the LA Laker artwork in the middle of the arena, as he took a moment to look up at the rafters, admiring all of the championship banners. Slowly, he returned his attention to the camera, a stern look of seriousness in his eyes.
TRIPLE X: Do the job, Tre. Step aside. Hell, don't even show up to the arena. I know, I know, Cali is your home. With us being in the LA bracket and all, you've gotta represent for all of the Bloods, Crips, and Latin King Disciples ... not to mention all of the people in the," Stevens made finger quotations, "... struggle. But, remember this ... LA is also the home of the stars, and I've been one in this business long before you ever laced on a pair of boots. You know, back when you were an acne faced dweeb, in your suburban bedroom staring at your HEW posters, fantasizing about being me. You also need to take into consideration that you are about to wrestle the one man who is fully capable, and uncaring enough to end your life. If you leave? You live to fight another day. If you leave? You're a beloved king with a crown to match. And, I'll allow you to talk as much sh_t as you want without exposing you for the poser that Cassidy told me you are.
"But, if you don't, Ice Tre?...
"... then, you become a victim."
In an uncomfortable/sadistic scene, Sean shut his eyes, almost as if he were revelling in the thought of abusing Ice Tre even more than he already has.
TRIPLE X: You become what you've been from the moment you awkwardly stumbled into my life. I'll drag your sorry carcass around the ring for two-or-three minutes, beat you into a coma, and destroy you. But, that's not enough to convince you, is it, Tre? I know you. So, let me tell you what I'll do next. Cassidy, Cassanova -- your adviser friend? I'm going to snap his neck like a twig. Then, I'll take a trip down to San Diego, to that wrestling school that the two of you seem to love so much, and burn that b_tch to the ground with the old man in it.
"... and, it's all because initially, the result that I want may not come to fruition, but it always comes. I get what I want, and those that don't give me what I want get ran the f__k over.
"I've won world titles. I've wrestled in five star matchups that have won Match of the Year. I've won individual wrestling awards. And, I've earned the respect of the people in this business that matter as one of the better wrestlers in the world.
"... and, I'm insulted."
He tugged on his month old goatee.
TRIPLE X: I am the best wrestler in the world, and the only way for me to prove it, and for them to believe it is by winning a tournament with every active wrestler in this business competing in it. I get to prove that the EPW World Heavyweight Championship is the most prestigious title belt in the world. I get to prove that there's not a talent alive that can carry my jockstrap inside of a squared circle. And, if you bow down to me like you should -- like you eventually will anyway -- I get to prove it with fresher legs.
"Regardless of your answer, you're going to lose anyway, Tre. May as well do it with functioning body parts. Before you respond, though ... I want you to think it over. I want you to reeeeaaaaallllly think every single scenario through thoroughly and tell me that my option isn't the best option for your health. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have Ice Tre. This isn't a cage match, Tre ... those fake gold chains won't be able to bail you out this time. Beating you up is no longer fun for me, in fact, it's like the school bully picking a fight with the kid on the little yellow bus, and truthfully? My time is worth more money than your life, and I shouldn't be wasting it on someone who is genetically incapable of being competitive with me, let alone my equal.
"Don't make me finish you, Ice Tre. Don't let the opportunity to live pass you by. Because if you do, I promise you, you'll regret it."
Trip turned from the camera, and began to walk off of the court, toward the player's lockerroom.
... FADE TO BLACK
