(Camera fades in to Jason Reeves staring at himself in a mirror. He looks like he is half drunk as usual and is grinning ear to ear.)
Stalker: Well... well.. the time has finally arrived for us hasn't it?
(Jason turns from the mirror he was staring in and walks towards the middle of yet another beat up run down motel room. Black is sitting back on the bed with a bong on his nightstand while Barb seems to be petting Omega in the corner.)
Stalker: I told you we wouldn't be ignored forever and now we finally get a taste of what we have in store for these fools come Onslaught. For as big as this so called Anthology is getting they have no idea what the likes of the three of us can do. No idea what so ever! Especially if their are four of us....
(Manic laughter escapes from Jason's mouth and it sets Erik Black off as well, while Barb.... continues to pet Omega.)
Stalker: Let me ask you something Wells. After everything that has been going on and everything that has happened to your..... group.... do you honestly trust the ones you call friends now? The ones that swear to have your back? Do you really feel comfortable with putting your life in their hands? That is exactly what you are doing come Onslaught... your life is in the hands of your partners because they will see what will happen when we RIP YOU limb from limb. Do you really think they will be so eager to tag in once you've been completely destroyed in our corner?
(Turning back and walking towards the mirror again he grins in the reflection yet again.)
Stalker: I think you'll also notice who I did not mention at all here and then you can think about what that means for you. Now you are stepping into My World and you have no idea what you are getting yourself into.
(CUTTO: An Onslaught backdrop as an assistant brushes off the last remaining cobweb. "Simply Sensational" Sean Edmunds steps into the shot and adjusts his attire, since you know, he's wearing his ring outfit just for an Onslaught promo.)
EDMUNDS: "You have the chance of a lifetime in the palms of your hands, Stalker, and yet you're fumbling it. At Onslaught, you and your ragtag group of misfits are stepping into the ring with the Smartest Player in the Game ... the World Tag Team champion ... and the man who will bring integrity back to the Intercontinental championship (he points to his own chest and winks) ... and yet you stand before us trying to play the oldest mind game in the book?"
(A smile almost finds its way to Edmunds' face, but he holds it back, albeit its quite obvious.)
EDMUNDS: "You're trying to play that trick on three men who have been in this business for over 15 years? Who have not only teamed together, but fought together, and have gotten to know each other inside out, sideways, upside down, and in technicolor?"
(Edmunds shakes his head in disbelief, mixed with a teeny tiny bit of awe.)
EDMUNDS: "Is there some sort of drug that Erik Black slipped you? Did Omega convert you to Barbology? I mean, I know you've always been a bit screwed up, Stalker... but this is just amateurish! I'd expect this kind of talk out of ... well.. Shawn Hart. Or .. the First."
(Edmunds raises his eyebrows quickly before shrugging it off.)
EDMUNDS: "The fact of the matter, Stalker, is that Jared Wells doesn't have to watch his back. I don't have to watch my back. Copycat doesn't have to watch his back. Anthology has tightened up. We've cut the dead weight. We're leaner. Meaner. And we're going to continue to blow through people like you. Like Erik Black. Like Fusenshoff. People who have watched idly as this industry went into a dizzying freefall."
(Edmunds looks back at the Onslaught logo ... as a spider crawls through the middle of the "l" and makes its way to the "a.")
EDMUNDS: "Onslaught, the Fallen hit rock bottom."
EDMUNDS: "Don't adjust your television sets ... I am this SENSATIONAL!"
(Fade out as Edmunds pivots on his heel and walks off screen.)
(Camera opens up to the home of Jared Wells as he walks towards the front door wearing an Armani suit, pulling his luggage up to the door waiting for his limo. He also carries both EPW Tag Title belts in his hand. Looks out the window and slowly turns to the camera)
JARED WELLS: LEGEND. A person who embodies the pinnacle of all the important social aspects. Any person who is funny, reckless, original and sensitive in the right measures is likely to be nominated a legend by his associates. A person to whose persona you aspire. Copycat.....LEGEND. Sean Edmunds.....LEGEND. Jared Wells.....LEGEND. You cannot find a trio in this business that has done what we have done in the past fifteen years. In 1998 Sean Edmunds and myself ran the world while at the same time Copycat and myself beat the hell out of each other. 2010, Anthology rules period. We are the reason why groups like HOPE or The Fallen are around. Like I've said over and over, HOPE is nothing more than a quick fix of guys trying to change the world. EGO will kill them and The Fallen, your no different.
Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to see grown men in a dark rundown motel sharing the same bed taking roofies? You can also count out DADDY petting any Omega. You guys want to pet something, come pet both of the EPW Tag Titles here. You all share qualities or characteristics of downright creepy. Of course there is always that guy in the group who you used to see stoned or tripping everyday, ten years later is sitting his parents basement playing video games all day long. Stalker what's there to say about you? NOTHING! Omega, Erik Black, Stalker you mean absolutely NOTHING to Anthology, especially this past year we've dominated. Where were you guys when Anthology was out owning and winning titles? In fact, when somebody says the name The Fallen, I go blank. Like an evening of drinking where you have certain parts of the night removed from your memory. I wonder why the thong is hanging from the ceiling fan but no chick around. That's The Forsaken for you. OOPS........I mean The Fallen. Forgive me, I get lost sometimes with the entire black, dark, I'm hardcore, your hardcore, I have a chair, long hair, cross dressing theme today.
Onslaught VII, The Fallen get into the spotlight for one night only. The Fallen turns into The Forgotten. In the aftermath, all I'll hear is......
Daddy, I can’t walk.
Daddy, I’m bleeding.
Daddy, it hurts.
Daddy, it’s massive!
(Fade in on what appears to be a sizable home library, with several tall bookshelves adorning the walls and an especially large one in the back of the room, a table in the center a high-backed chair with accompanying reading table sitting near a corner. In the chair sits Copycat, clad in jeans and a black Anthology T-shirt with his hair tied back. He’s holding a book, but the camera is too far away from him to be able to make out the cover)
Copycat: You can never be sure whether it’s a poorly filmed real book or just a blank cover for effect.
(Copycat chucks the book off to the side and looks up at the camera)
Copycat: If there’s any word that defines Aggression 49, it’s audacity. For all her efforts to destroy Anthology, I never thought Lindsay Troy would have the audacity to try to fire all of us; I figured she knew, for all her claims to the contrary, that we’re the ones bringing the money to EPW. Then, for all our efforts to bring an end to Troy’s reign of terror, I never thought she’d have the audacity to actually storm out in a cloud of typically feminine overreaction. And then, for all his passive reinforcement of Troy’s terrible management of EPW, I never thought Dan Ryan would have the audacity to fire Larry Tact, for no reason beyond his confronting Troy for labor practices that should have gotten her canned years ago. It took some audacity for GASP to suggest that its bringing Troy Windham into the fold would have the impact of the EPW World Heavyweight Champion joining Anthology, but that’s another matter entirely.
(Copycat stands up from the chair and walks idly toward the table in the center of the room)
Copycat: Thanks to the machinations of the people who run EPW – and I am sorely tempted to tack on the words “into the ground” here – Anthology now has smaller numbers than the pathetic faction of glory whores opposing it. And thanks to said pathetic faction, a once great man, a legend in the wrestling business, has been convinced to take the side of those who would destroy the industry’s future for just a few more precious seconds of sweet, sweet fame. It’s an absolute tragedy. I mean, for me personally, it’s not the end of the world; I could ask EPW to terminate my contract right now, head back to Hollywood and leave this diseased business entirely. Heck, I’d be better off; despite what EPW is paying me, Hollywood pays much better, and the attacks of the paparazzi and this country’s unhealthy celebrity obsession are no more damaging than the attacks I endure in the ring. I’ve said time and time again that I’m putting my livelihood at risk by selflessly returning to this business to try to save it from itself, just as my colleagues in Anthology are putting themselves at risk for standing up for what they believe in, for what wrestling fans deserve.
(Copycat leans against the table)
Copycat: More and more, it’s seeming like the smart thing for me to do would be to abandon this sinking ship before it drags me under. Tell Dan Ryan to let the Firsts and Layne Winterses and Fusenshoffs and Stalkers of the world run roughshod over EPW until it’s nothing but a smoking husk of a wrestling company, a deadly accurate representation of the wasteland this business has become while I go back to acting. As the Smartest Player in the Game, it behooves me to follow the most logical choice – it goes against the principles I’ve set myself for a wrestler, and I’ve had those principles longer than I’ve been going by that nickname, but I don’t want to let this industry’s self-destruction destroy me too. Almost every instinct I have is telling me to make the logical decision and get out while I still can.
(He looks off to the side)
Copycat: Funny thing, though. The more I try to apply logic, the more those without that ability seem to benefit, appealing to the baser senses of those in charge – like Dan Ryan, and Lindsay Troy before him. So here’s what I’m thinking now.
(Copycat abruptly turns around, walks toward the large bookshelf at the back of the room and fells it with a single punch – in the process making it obvious that it and the back wall are just a set piece, and it collapses backward into the room, which is much larger than it originally appeared)
Copycat: Maybe I’m finished being logical.
(He turns around and glares into the camera)
Copycat: There seem to be a lot of people around who aren’t willing to listen to reason. Once, that was entirely to my advantage. But now that ignorance has become the overwhelming preference of everyone in EPW outside of Anthology, that tendency is nothing but frustrating. So maybe it’s time for me to take on a different approach. And that approach starts at Onslaught VII with the Fallen, a group of throwbacks to the brooding monsters I helped destroy almost 10 years ago. Erik Black’s weak references to drug culture aside, Stalker and Omega seem to be entirely fixated on inflicting pain, that old cliché. That’s fitting enough, because that’s precisely what I’m going to do to them come Onslaught – make them an example of what I’m here in EPW to destroy. And I do so love irony.
(Copycat kicks over the table in the center of the room, then leans forward and rests his foot on it)
Copycat: At Onslaught, everyone in EPW – from Dan Ryan all the way to those Heirs of Wrestling chumps who just showed up – is going to find out just what the Cat is capable of when sufficiently motivated. At Onslaught, and at Aggression 50 after it, the Cat is going to make an impact. And I hope everyone looking to bring about the end of Anthology is watching.
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