Russian Roulette - Beast vs. Troy Douglas
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MarcusWestcott
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Beast, in front of a standard EPW back drop - jeans, black t-shirt.
Beast: You know... sometimes a guy's just gotta realize when he's bitten off more than he can chew.
Dan Ryan... you have been a thorn in my side, a pain in my ass, and a gigantic f*cking headache for me since the very first day I stepped foot into Empire Pro Wrestling. And after I stood up to you for so d@mned long, after I fought you tooth and nail and took everything you had without backing down, you brought out your little puppy dog Anarky to help tip the scales in your favor.
And at Wrestlestock, I learned a pretty big lesson.
No matter how hard I fight, no matter what I do, even I can't beat those kinds of odds.
I may have a thick head, and I might be stubborn at times, but even I can see the writing on the wall.
So, I've wisened up a little.
At Russian Roulette, you two twatwaffles are going to be in for a massive shock.
I'm coming back to the fight, there's no question about that, but this time, gentlemen...
I'm bringing BACK UP.
I've got a secret weapon loaded in the silo, boys, and when this mammajamma gets unleashed, there's going to be a big mushroom cloud where your careers once stood.
I can't WAIT.
But... I've also got a match to think about as well.
Troy Douglas.
What is there to say that hasn't been said between us lately?
I just dropped a title over in "that other company", and you just won one to become the #2 man over there. You've finally shed the big monkey off your back, and force-fed a lot of naysayers their own feet in doing so.
Looks pretty bad for ol' Beastie, doesn't it? And it doesn't matter if it's here, in A1E, in TEAM, or whatever.
You're coming into your own - and you're going to be dangerous WHEREVER you go.
But now, the tables are reversed, aren't they?
You're the one with the fancy belt. You're the one with the target on his back. You're the hot commodity.
You're the one everyone's going to try and take down.
Me, Troy?
I've got to prove myself all over again.
And what better way than to stop the rolling train that is Troy Douglas?
Right now, Troy, whether it's title shots or personal vendettas, I've got nothing to lose.
And EVERYTHING to gain.
You, Troy... have everything to lose.
You just think about that for a while. Think about what that means.
I could tell you, but you're a big boy. You'll figure it out on your own.
At least, you'd better....
(Fade out...)
Beast: You know... sometimes a guy's just gotta realize when he's bitten off more than he can chew.
Dan Ryan... you have been a thorn in my side, a pain in my ass, and a gigantic f*cking headache for me since the very first day I stepped foot into Empire Pro Wrestling. And after I stood up to you for so d@mned long, after I fought you tooth and nail and took everything you had without backing down, you brought out your little puppy dog Anarky to help tip the scales in your favor.
And at Wrestlestock, I learned a pretty big lesson.
No matter how hard I fight, no matter what I do, even I can't beat those kinds of odds.
I may have a thick head, and I might be stubborn at times, but even I can see the writing on the wall.
So, I've wisened up a little.
At Russian Roulette, you two twatwaffles are going to be in for a massive shock.
I'm coming back to the fight, there's no question about that, but this time, gentlemen...
I'm bringing BACK UP.
I've got a secret weapon loaded in the silo, boys, and when this mammajamma gets unleashed, there's going to be a big mushroom cloud where your careers once stood.
I can't WAIT.
But... I've also got a match to think about as well.
Troy Douglas.
What is there to say that hasn't been said between us lately?
I just dropped a title over in "that other company", and you just won one to become the #2 man over there. You've finally shed the big monkey off your back, and force-fed a lot of naysayers their own feet in doing so.
Looks pretty bad for ol' Beastie, doesn't it? And it doesn't matter if it's here, in A1E, in TEAM, or whatever.
You're coming into your own - and you're going to be dangerous WHEREVER you go.
But now, the tables are reversed, aren't they?
You're the one with the fancy belt. You're the one with the target on his back. You're the hot commodity.
You're the one everyone's going to try and take down.
Me, Troy?
I've got to prove myself all over again.
And what better way than to stop the rolling train that is Troy Douglas?
Right now, Troy, whether it's title shots or personal vendettas, I've got nothing to lose.
And EVERYTHING to gain.
You, Troy... have everything to lose.
You just think about that for a while. Think about what that means.
I could tell you, but you're a big boy. You'll figure it out on your own.
At least, you'd better....
(Fade out...)
CuseTroy
League Member
FADE IN...
Even during the midst of the Eastern Seaboard's brutal heatwave, Centennial Olympic Park in downtown Atlanta remains one of the most popular gathering spots in the Peach State's bustling capital. Troy Douglas, wearing khaki shorts and an old EPW t-shirt promoting the first Black Dawn event, sits on a short wall in front of a series of hedges. In the background, a few kids can be seen playing in the park's dancing fountain, still trying, even as twilight approaches, to get some reprieve from the heat. Troy wipes some of the visible sweat from his brow, smiles, and settles his gaze onto the camera.
TD: I'm getting the strange feeling that I've done all this before, and that history's just about to get ready to sneak up behind me and give me a sharp blow to the back of the head.
You see, the last time EPW held a major pay per view in this fine city, it was almost exactly three years ago. The first ever Unleashed, for those of you who might not posess a didactic memory. Pretty big night, that one was. One that most EPW fans never forgot, one that I never forgot, and one that I'm sure that the man I'm facing now that EPW's rolled into the heart of the Southeast again will never, ever forget.
Because, for those of you who haven't kept you DVD collections up to date, that was the night Beast and I started a path towards each other that most experts thought was going to lead to one of the most anticipated clashes in recent memory. That night, I took the biggest step I ever made towards winning the EPW World Championship, beating Karl Brown and becoming the number one contender.
The number one contender to who, exactly? Well, that'd just happen to be the man who sent all of the ATL home happy that night after taking the big prize away from Christian Sands inside a steel cage, Beast.
At that moment, the stage was set. The chase was on, and, one way or another, Beast and I were going to settle our business over the World Championship at one point or another.
'Course, fate or history or some other such crap has a way of screwing with your plans in the least convenient way possible and, to make a long and complicated story short, that epic encounter everyone was waiting for, that big money pay per view headliner that had cable companies across the country ready to line their pockets with cash from the bulk of orders that'd come in, it kinda never really happened.
To sum it up, I got Dan Ryan pissed at me, Dan did what large, angry men who's power has been threatened are wont to do, I got hurt, Lindsay Troy pretended to be Dis and pulled the wool over all of our eyes, Beast lost his world championship at this very event two years ago, and I sort of drifted away from the EPW spotlight for a good long while.
Now, it's August 2007, two years removed from that entire story. And for those of you who know a damn thing about the wrestling industry, two years might as well mean two decades. In that time, Beast, you've gone on to chase after that world title unsuccessfully, leave the company for a little while, and come back to raise a little more hell in your current war with our mutual friend Mr. Ryan.
And me? Well, even though I've tried to make my mark from time to time, I've pretty much been a nonentity, a nonfactor in this company since the moment you pinned me in our farce of a world title match a couple of years back. Everywhere else, as Beast noted, the last twelve months have been among the best of my career.
Heck, in the past month I've done twice what I failed to do for the last three years, acquire championship gold. Every day, I'm getting calls from my agent about people who want me to come and wrestle for their companies.
Not to be immodest, but my star is rising to a level it hasn't seen since...
Well, since Beast and I were heading towards our first collision course here in EPW back in the early days of '04.
But, that's everywhere else. Here, in the company that I called my wrestling home for so long, the last year since I was welcomed back has been about as uneventful as possible and, after washing out of King of the Cage a few months back, I've just been wading in the waters, hoping that I'd get a chance to reestablish myself in a company that I gave a lot to and, once upon a time, a company that gave so much to me.
How appropiate then, that in this city, where we both had our finest moments in this company, that I get to face the man who always seemed to be the 295 pound gorilla on my back in EPW.
For most people, seeing Beast across the page from you when the men in charge release a card is reason enough to consider handing in your boots and clicking on that e-mail for University of Phoenix Online. Maybe I'm brave, maybe I'm just to damn stupid to know any better, but for me, seeing that name locked up with mine makes me feel like I've just found the silver scroll in my bottle of Pawtucket Patriot Ale.
Beast, we've got a three year history that's traversed North America a couple of times over, but we've never really resolved the issue that was set between us in this city three years ago. The two of us, the two men who want the EPW World Title around their waist more than any other man on this planet, never really got to see which of us was really the man to set the standard for this company.
Of course, we're not fighting over that right now. We're not even fighting for the right to fight over that. You and I, we're just two men trying to reestablish ourselves after a rough patch here in EPW.
Although, while I've been on the biggest run of my career everywhere except Empire Pro, your fortunes, Beast, haven't been as sparkling as of late.
You are, excuse the venture to the world of puns, a wounded Beast at the moment. You're a desperate man who finds himself into a situation I've been stuck in for a good bit of my career. Right now, after the beating that was laid on you at Wrestlestock, after the setbacks you've suffered here and everywhere else you ply your craft, you've got to prove yourself.
You've got to prove that your still the Beast who set the wrestling world on fire when he made the daring leap into this company three years ago. You've got to prove that you are deserving of the hallowed billing your name still has around these parts.
Like I claimed about myself for so long, you are indeed now the man with nothing to lose and everything to gain, and that makes you all the more dangerous.
But, illusion is a dangerous thing, Beast. Delusion, doubly so.
Because while my train, as you said, is in fact rolling along at full speed, the engine has had the unfortunate habit of running out of coal and stalling whenver I pull into an EPW show. Elsewhere, Beast, I've got everything to lose.
Here, the only thing I've got to lose is the exact same thing you've got on the line, and that's precious time. With the number of big name stars making their way into EPW, with people like JA and Rocko Daymon and Kin Hiroshi thrust into the title picture along with Sean Stevens, Lindsay Troy, and the Joey Meltons, time is running out for two guys who were a part of the old guard, even in a company as relatively young as EPW.
We've both got to show we still belong at that top echelon, and I don't think either of us knows a better way to make that point than by pushing the other man back down the ladder in order to do so.
Problem for you is, I'm not the only one on the ladder that's trying to knock you off. I don't have to deal with the wrath of our good friend Dan this time around, you do. And, while I've never had the pleasure of experiencing Anarky's unique brand of punishment, ol' 'Nark isn't exactly the kind of guy I'd like to have on my bad side.
But I don't care about your private wars, Beast. I don't care about your grudges or your escalation or you sainted backup. What I care about is you and me at Russian Roulette. What I care about is finally shedding you off my back and finally, after two years of treading water, hoping for a chance, starting to claw my way back towards the top of this company.
Trying to get back to the spot I shouldn't have been stupid enough to waste away when I had it.
Everything to lose, Beast? I highly doubt it.
In this company, I've always had everything to gain. The only difference this time is, you've got everything to gain too. Just adds to the fun.
I've got to head in and beat the heat. I'm on pins and needles for this one, Beast. It may not be the epic clash that the world was clamoring for, but that doesn't make it any less special to me.
Start the engine, shut the doors, and clear the track, boys.
There's a train about to come through Atlanta, and I'm not even thinking about hitting the brakes.
...FADE TO BLACK
Even during the midst of the Eastern Seaboard's brutal heatwave, Centennial Olympic Park in downtown Atlanta remains one of the most popular gathering spots in the Peach State's bustling capital. Troy Douglas, wearing khaki shorts and an old EPW t-shirt promoting the first Black Dawn event, sits on a short wall in front of a series of hedges. In the background, a few kids can be seen playing in the park's dancing fountain, still trying, even as twilight approaches, to get some reprieve from the heat. Troy wipes some of the visible sweat from his brow, smiles, and settles his gaze onto the camera.
TD: I'm getting the strange feeling that I've done all this before, and that history's just about to get ready to sneak up behind me and give me a sharp blow to the back of the head.
You see, the last time EPW held a major pay per view in this fine city, it was almost exactly three years ago. The first ever Unleashed, for those of you who might not posess a didactic memory. Pretty big night, that one was. One that most EPW fans never forgot, one that I never forgot, and one that I'm sure that the man I'm facing now that EPW's rolled into the heart of the Southeast again will never, ever forget.
Because, for those of you who haven't kept you DVD collections up to date, that was the night Beast and I started a path towards each other that most experts thought was going to lead to one of the most anticipated clashes in recent memory. That night, I took the biggest step I ever made towards winning the EPW World Championship, beating Karl Brown and becoming the number one contender.
The number one contender to who, exactly? Well, that'd just happen to be the man who sent all of the ATL home happy that night after taking the big prize away from Christian Sands inside a steel cage, Beast.
At that moment, the stage was set. The chase was on, and, one way or another, Beast and I were going to settle our business over the World Championship at one point or another.
'Course, fate or history or some other such crap has a way of screwing with your plans in the least convenient way possible and, to make a long and complicated story short, that epic encounter everyone was waiting for, that big money pay per view headliner that had cable companies across the country ready to line their pockets with cash from the bulk of orders that'd come in, it kinda never really happened.
To sum it up, I got Dan Ryan pissed at me, Dan did what large, angry men who's power has been threatened are wont to do, I got hurt, Lindsay Troy pretended to be Dis and pulled the wool over all of our eyes, Beast lost his world championship at this very event two years ago, and I sort of drifted away from the EPW spotlight for a good long while.
Now, it's August 2007, two years removed from that entire story. And for those of you who know a damn thing about the wrestling industry, two years might as well mean two decades. In that time, Beast, you've gone on to chase after that world title unsuccessfully, leave the company for a little while, and come back to raise a little more hell in your current war with our mutual friend Mr. Ryan.
And me? Well, even though I've tried to make my mark from time to time, I've pretty much been a nonentity, a nonfactor in this company since the moment you pinned me in our farce of a world title match a couple of years back. Everywhere else, as Beast noted, the last twelve months have been among the best of my career.
Heck, in the past month I've done twice what I failed to do for the last three years, acquire championship gold. Every day, I'm getting calls from my agent about people who want me to come and wrestle for their companies.
Not to be immodest, but my star is rising to a level it hasn't seen since...
Well, since Beast and I were heading towards our first collision course here in EPW back in the early days of '04.
But, that's everywhere else. Here, in the company that I called my wrestling home for so long, the last year since I was welcomed back has been about as uneventful as possible and, after washing out of King of the Cage a few months back, I've just been wading in the waters, hoping that I'd get a chance to reestablish myself in a company that I gave a lot to and, once upon a time, a company that gave so much to me.
How appropiate then, that in this city, where we both had our finest moments in this company, that I get to face the man who always seemed to be the 295 pound gorilla on my back in EPW.
For most people, seeing Beast across the page from you when the men in charge release a card is reason enough to consider handing in your boots and clicking on that e-mail for University of Phoenix Online. Maybe I'm brave, maybe I'm just to damn stupid to know any better, but for me, seeing that name locked up with mine makes me feel like I've just found the silver scroll in my bottle of Pawtucket Patriot Ale.
Beast, we've got a three year history that's traversed North America a couple of times over, but we've never really resolved the issue that was set between us in this city three years ago. The two of us, the two men who want the EPW World Title around their waist more than any other man on this planet, never really got to see which of us was really the man to set the standard for this company.
Of course, we're not fighting over that right now. We're not even fighting for the right to fight over that. You and I, we're just two men trying to reestablish ourselves after a rough patch here in EPW.
Although, while I've been on the biggest run of my career everywhere except Empire Pro, your fortunes, Beast, haven't been as sparkling as of late.
You are, excuse the venture to the world of puns, a wounded Beast at the moment. You're a desperate man who finds himself into a situation I've been stuck in for a good bit of my career. Right now, after the beating that was laid on you at Wrestlestock, after the setbacks you've suffered here and everywhere else you ply your craft, you've got to prove yourself.
You've got to prove that your still the Beast who set the wrestling world on fire when he made the daring leap into this company three years ago. You've got to prove that you are deserving of the hallowed billing your name still has around these parts.
Like I claimed about myself for so long, you are indeed now the man with nothing to lose and everything to gain, and that makes you all the more dangerous.
But, illusion is a dangerous thing, Beast. Delusion, doubly so.
Because while my train, as you said, is in fact rolling along at full speed, the engine has had the unfortunate habit of running out of coal and stalling whenver I pull into an EPW show. Elsewhere, Beast, I've got everything to lose.
Here, the only thing I've got to lose is the exact same thing you've got on the line, and that's precious time. With the number of big name stars making their way into EPW, with people like JA and Rocko Daymon and Kin Hiroshi thrust into the title picture along with Sean Stevens, Lindsay Troy, and the Joey Meltons, time is running out for two guys who were a part of the old guard, even in a company as relatively young as EPW.
We've both got to show we still belong at that top echelon, and I don't think either of us knows a better way to make that point than by pushing the other man back down the ladder in order to do so.
Problem for you is, I'm not the only one on the ladder that's trying to knock you off. I don't have to deal with the wrath of our good friend Dan this time around, you do. And, while I've never had the pleasure of experiencing Anarky's unique brand of punishment, ol' 'Nark isn't exactly the kind of guy I'd like to have on my bad side.
But I don't care about your private wars, Beast. I don't care about your grudges or your escalation or you sainted backup. What I care about is you and me at Russian Roulette. What I care about is finally shedding you off my back and finally, after two years of treading water, hoping for a chance, starting to claw my way back towards the top of this company.
Trying to get back to the spot I shouldn't have been stupid enough to waste away when I had it.
Everything to lose, Beast? I highly doubt it.
In this company, I've always had everything to gain. The only difference this time is, you've got everything to gain too. Just adds to the fun.
I've got to head in and beat the heat. I'm on pins and needles for this one, Beast. It may not be the epic clash that the world was clamoring for, but that doesn't make it any less special to me.
Start the engine, shut the doors, and clear the track, boys.
There's a train about to come through Atlanta, and I'm not even thinking about hitting the brakes.
...FADE TO BLACK
MarcusWestcott
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 501
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 49
- Location
- Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
- Website
- www.a1e.ca
Fade in to an EPW Russian Roulette backdrop.
Beast: Wow, Troy... thanks for the monster history lesson. You know, I'd just about forgotten about Unleashed, but now, you've gone and stirred up all the sh*t that happened that night.
You'd think that you'd want to remember vividly forever the night that you won your first ever World Heavyweight Championship, but for the most part, it's a night I'd rather forget.
But after that night, you're right in that it set us sailing towards each other, Troy, and I don't mean that in the crappy Anakin and Padme rolling in the fields sense, but more like a couple of hot rods speeding at each other playing a game of chicken.
I became Champion, and you became Challenger. It doesn't get any more black and white than that.
Or does it?
I guess we viewed that match in different ways, Troy.
To you, that match was supposed to be some iconic clash of warriors, some huge footnote in the annals of professional wrestling history.
Of course it was. To you. It was going to be the night you got your first shot at the World Title in EPW. It was the night you were going to step the onto world stage. For you, Troy, it was like the young girl who was about to get her cherry popped. It was going to be great. It was going to be romantic. It was going to special. There were going to be fireworks.
But to me, even though it was at the start of my first World Title reign, I'd been a Champion countless other times before that. I knew what was coming. I was ready for the challenge. To me, you were just another guy coming to take what was mine. It was just another title match. I was the guy that was just about to f*ck another slut and leave her in the back seat of the car while her p*ssy was still dripping and raw from the pounding it just took.
Just another day at the office, Troy. Sorry to burst your bubble.
Even then, yeah, we've had a bit of a history, haven't we, Troy.
Even though that history has basically involved me pinning you at every turn of the page. I think that in itself decided which one of us was going to be the standard bearer for EPW, doesn't it? I think that me going on a 10 month tear with the World Title while you basically faded into obscurity really answers that question, doesn't it?
And perhaps I may have overstated my current status in this business in my last segment. I am by no means a wounded duck. I just got done a six month run with the A1E Triple Star Title, and yes, while I don't have that title anymore, I lost one match.
I don't remember the last time losing one match took your status and buried it under a pile of rubble and obscurity.
Hell, Troy, if that mattered between us, I'd be standing on top of a mountain of success while you were being compressed into a fossil underneath the weight of your failures against me.
Seeing my name across from yours on any booking sheet still IS reason to be concerned, Douglas. For anyone. I've been successful enough that everyone knows that when you face me, you've got to fight the match of your life to survive it, title match or no title match.
I don't think I really need to re-establish myself here in EPW. I've proven that I can beat anybody, anywhere. You should know that more than anyone. I think you confuse being consumed in a personal war with Dan Ryan and now Anarky with being apathetic over the World Title. I'm PISSED that I'm not going to get my shot to avenge myself to Lindsay Troy and take back what she stole from me, but really, all that means is the person that IS holding the title when I get through with these @sshats is in deep trouble.
Wounded? Hardly. Desperate? Please. Do I still have to prove myself?
You're damned right I do. But if you want to believe I'm wounded... go right ahead. If you want to believe I'm desperate... be my guest.
If you want to believe these things so that it makes you sleep better at night, or that it makes you think that it gives you a better shot at defeating me, then write it down and call it the Bible.
Just remember the fact that wounded animals in desperate situations are perhaps the most dangerous things on this planet.
I'm just sorry that I'm the guy that has to take your precious moment and smash it into a million pieces in front of the world on Pay-Per-View.
History has a way of repeating itself, Troy, and well, as you've said, we've got a pretty deep history.
Fade out.
Beast: Wow, Troy... thanks for the monster history lesson. You know, I'd just about forgotten about Unleashed, but now, you've gone and stirred up all the sh*t that happened that night.
You'd think that you'd want to remember vividly forever the night that you won your first ever World Heavyweight Championship, but for the most part, it's a night I'd rather forget.
But after that night, you're right in that it set us sailing towards each other, Troy, and I don't mean that in the crappy Anakin and Padme rolling in the fields sense, but more like a couple of hot rods speeding at each other playing a game of chicken.
I became Champion, and you became Challenger. It doesn't get any more black and white than that.
Or does it?
I guess we viewed that match in different ways, Troy.
To you, that match was supposed to be some iconic clash of warriors, some huge footnote in the annals of professional wrestling history.
Of course it was. To you. It was going to be the night you got your first shot at the World Title in EPW. It was the night you were going to step the onto world stage. For you, Troy, it was like the young girl who was about to get her cherry popped. It was going to be great. It was going to be romantic. It was going to special. There were going to be fireworks.
But to me, even though it was at the start of my first World Title reign, I'd been a Champion countless other times before that. I knew what was coming. I was ready for the challenge. To me, you were just another guy coming to take what was mine. It was just another title match. I was the guy that was just about to f*ck another slut and leave her in the back seat of the car while her p*ssy was still dripping and raw from the pounding it just took.
Just another day at the office, Troy. Sorry to burst your bubble.
Even then, yeah, we've had a bit of a history, haven't we, Troy.
Even though that history has basically involved me pinning you at every turn of the page. I think that in itself decided which one of us was going to be the standard bearer for EPW, doesn't it? I think that me going on a 10 month tear with the World Title while you basically faded into obscurity really answers that question, doesn't it?
And perhaps I may have overstated my current status in this business in my last segment. I am by no means a wounded duck. I just got done a six month run with the A1E Triple Star Title, and yes, while I don't have that title anymore, I lost one match.
I don't remember the last time losing one match took your status and buried it under a pile of rubble and obscurity.
Hell, Troy, if that mattered between us, I'd be standing on top of a mountain of success while you were being compressed into a fossil underneath the weight of your failures against me.
Seeing my name across from yours on any booking sheet still IS reason to be concerned, Douglas. For anyone. I've been successful enough that everyone knows that when you face me, you've got to fight the match of your life to survive it, title match or no title match.
I don't think I really need to re-establish myself here in EPW. I've proven that I can beat anybody, anywhere. You should know that more than anyone. I think you confuse being consumed in a personal war with Dan Ryan and now Anarky with being apathetic over the World Title. I'm PISSED that I'm not going to get my shot to avenge myself to Lindsay Troy and take back what she stole from me, but really, all that means is the person that IS holding the title when I get through with these @sshats is in deep trouble.
Wounded? Hardly. Desperate? Please. Do I still have to prove myself?
You're damned right I do. But if you want to believe I'm wounded... go right ahead. If you want to believe I'm desperate... be my guest.
If you want to believe these things so that it makes you sleep better at night, or that it makes you think that it gives you a better shot at defeating me, then write it down and call it the Bible.
Just remember the fact that wounded animals in desperate situations are perhaps the most dangerous things on this planet.
I'm just sorry that I'm the guy that has to take your precious moment and smash it into a million pieces in front of the world on Pay-Per-View.
History has a way of repeating itself, Troy, and well, as you've said, we've got a pretty deep history.
Fade out.