MAIN EVENT: McMillan/Storms vs Coupla Douchebags
::FADEIN on the interior of the Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy, a nondescript gym in an unknown Midwestern location. Humble as it may be, this squat and unremarkable structure was the training ground for a hundred independent wrestlers. It was also Purgatory for hundreds more hopefuls that were tried by fire and found to be lacking. Posters and from a hundred different dates, representing several territories and spanning entire eras cover the walls. Standing in the center of the ring, lording over it all, is “The Wolf” Chris McMillan. He’s attired as usual in jeans, motorcycle boots, and a faded “Dogs of War” t-shirt::
THE WOLF: There’s nothing special about this place. It isn’t run by some legendary wrestler. It hasn’t spawned a proud lineage of world champions. Not a single remarkable thing has happened here … except to those of us who came up here. For the ones that made their name here, this place is legend. It just goes to show you that the greatest of things can come from the humblest beginnings.
THE WOLF: Bryan Storms, I heard what you had to say about me after I beat you and Doe in the triple-threat match. Regardless of whether I agree with you, I can respect your attitude. Now, we’ve got a tag match this week, you and I. Anybody who knows me will tell you that I ain’t exactly a people person. I pretty much don’t like anybody or anything, with very few exceptions. Still, I don’t have a problem with you, Bryan Storms. As a matter of fact, if I had to choose one person to be in my corner out of this whole promotion, it’d be you. I know that’s not saying much since the roster’s only knee deep so far, but hey. It’s somethin’.
THE WOLF: Now, as far as the match itself … well, tag-team wrestling was my bread and butter for a long time, and everybody knows that there’s no greater teacher than experience. Chandler Maxwell has none. Steve Marlay’s is minimal. This is a match of “World Title hopefuls”, but myself, and everyone in the back knows that Marlay and Maxwell won’t lay hands on the big gold. Not this time around, at least. The only ones that remain painfully ignorant of that fact are the two men themselves. Now, Storms … you and I will go out there and rain destruction down upon the unprotected necks of Chandler Maxwell and Steve Marlay. We’ll stand side-by-side in the MCW arena with our hands raised, and the crowd will prostrate themselves at our feet. Don’t think for one second that that will have anything to do with the MCW title. It’ll still be you and I in the ring going toe-to-toe for that belt, and I will maul you. When it’s all over I’ll help you to your feet and give you a handshake because I know you’ll have done your best – but you won’t walk out of there with championship gold around your waist.
THE WOLF: Now, for Maxwell and Marlay, for Bryan Storms and John Doe, for everyone in the back, and perhaps most pointedly for Dakota Smith … I told you last week that it’s always about survival when you’re in the ring with me, and I wasn’t lying. But it isn’t solely about survival, and we all know that. There are a thousand different things that keep us in the business, that keep us going out to do battle night after night, month after month, year after bone-crushing year. It is about pride, about prestige, about competition. No matter what anybody tells you, in some small way it IS about the belt, it IS about the money. It may be incidental, but it’s there nonetheless. It can’t be ignored. That’s human nature.
THE WOLF: It is about all those things, and a hundred more. But I feel, I believe that the lynchpin of it all, what it really comes down to, is belief itself. You will not go anywhere unless you are able to believe, wholeheartedly and without hesitation that you will walk out of the arena at the end of the night with your fist raised in victory. I have that belief. As some people give over their trust to a higher power, I give over my trust to the ability and spirit that I have worked so hard over the years to develop. I, my friends, am a zealot. I am a priest and a warrior in service to my only deity … myself.
THE WOLF: Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not coming out here claiming that I’m a … ::McMillan rolls his eyes, making sweeping hand gestures:: “WRESTLING GOD”, or any cheesy crap like that. I don’t have a God complex. I’m simply saying that I have a firm and undying belief in my ability to consistently whip your asses one-by-one in the middle of the ring night after night, until I’m the only one left standing and there’s an MCW title belt around my waist.
::McMillan pauses for a huge breath after what may have been the single longest run-on sentence in his career. McMillan’s voice drops to a low, chilly growl as the camera comes in close::
THE WOLF: If you take nothing else from what I’ve said today, then know this: My will is unyielding. My spirit is unbreakable. I am the Wolf. I lead this pack.
::FADE TO BLACK::
