Promos for Rise of Kings 5/4/2018

[Quillz]

***The scene opens on a windy mountain top in the Rocky Mountains. As a golden bird of prey circles high overhead, silhouetted against the morning sun, Tiger Gold stands, perched at the top of the ridge, overlooking the scenic landscape. The rhinestones in his mask glint in the sunlight as the camera pans wide over him. The image comes to rest in front of the bronze warrior, and he turns to face the camera.***



GOLD: “For many years I have travelled the globe, seeking out the purest and most exemplary competitors to meet in the arena of unarmed combat. On six continents, in dozens of countries and hundreds of arenas, I have stood toe to toe with immortals. At all four corners of the Earth I have encountered men of fighting spirit who aspire to walk, for the briefest of moments, amongst gods. It has been a rich and rewarding existence that has favored me with reputation and renown… and for this path and all that has come with it… I am grateful.”



***Tiger Gold closes his eyes and tilts his head up toward the sun. At that moment, a cloud moves on and a beam of sunlight slices through the air and bathes his bronze body in a golden glow.***



GOLD: “Since I was a small child I aspired to be more than just a man. I longed to be a warrior of legend, whose exploits would be sung of for generations to come. I modeled myself after heroes of old… legendary characters for whom bravery and adventure was a way of life… distant memories from an era long since passed. Through their example I etched my own story in the tableau of history. I have fought long and hard and through my long and storied journey I have become mighty.”



***Tiger Gold flexes his muscles in the sunlight.***



GOLD: “There are moments in existence where everyone’s journey forks. There are frozen pinpoints in time where each soul finds itself at a crossroad… and an entire life’s quest can hinge on a single, critical task. Every step I have taken on this odyssey has brought me to THIS one, single moment. At PWA Rise of Kings… I shall face off against seven worthy gladiators in a grand and glorious contest to determine who shall be crowned the Prestige Wrestling Association’s first ever Heavyweight Champion. For weeks I have fought with fire and determination to test myself against these world warriors. In round-robin competition I have locked horns with each and every man in this mighty contest… and I have come away victorious, as only a true immortal can. As a reward for my victory… I shall enter into this championship battle royale in the eighth and final position. This gives me a hard-earned advantage in this epic contest… but as any true champion knows… there is no guarantee of victory until the final bell tolls.”


***Tiger Gold holds his massive hands out in front of him and gazes down at his splayed fingers. He takes a deep and breath and lets it out slowly.***



GOLD: “It is said that hunger is the most savory seasoning… and each and every man in this battle is ravenous for the gold and glory that victory at the Rise of Kings will bring. Each man contains within him all the fire and drive of their previous victories and defeats… and they will use this fire to push them onward to immortality.”



***Tiger Gold begins counting off competitors on his fingers.***



GOLD: “Each man will enter the ring in turn… Nakamura Yamasaki… Rhett Holiday… Richard Pennyworth… Robert MacElroy… Brian Fury… Kevin Starr… and finally Akira Wyld. One by one, these warriors will step between the ropes on that vaunted stage and they will test their worth on the stage of immortality. Then… once all seven men have entered… once the burning embers of their combined fighting spirits have been stoked into a raging inferno… the final bell will ring and Tiger Gold shall enter the contest.”



***Tiger Gold balls up his right hand into a mighty fist and raises it stoically into the air.***



GOLD: “And when that happens… when the fury of the tiger spirit is unleashed upon the multitudes… know this… NO quarter shall be asked, and none shall be given. I shall use every breath in my body… every fiber and sinew of my physical being… to rend my worthy opponents limb from limb, scattering their bodies and their ambitions to the four winds. As the roar of the crowd grows to deafening levels and the very arena threatens to crumble to the ground with the reverberations of the ensuing thunder… I shall hoist the last remaining man high into the air… and rend his body asunder with my mighty Tiger Breaker. And when the dust finally settles… when the roar of the crowd dies… TIGER GOLD, shall raise the PWA Heavyweight Championship belt high overhead… and this chapter in an epic journey will close.”



***Tiger Gold turns away from the precipice and looks directly at the camera.***



GOLD: “THIS… is why we do what we do on that grand stage. This is why we fight. At the end of the day… whether you call us gladiators, or warriors, or athletes… one truth remains. WE… are Fire Pro Wrestlers. And when the lights dim and the bell rings… we step into the ring and do what we do like no one else in the world. And as long as this pure, magical form of what we do continues to exist… there will be men like us, ready and willing to put everything on the line to show the world what REAL wrestling looks like. To Damion Black… to the entire PWA Armada… to everyone who has ever dreamed of bathing in the lights of a crowded arena full of roaring fans. Prepare for PWA Rise of Kings… our DESTINY AWAITS.”



***Tiger Gold smiles at the screen… then flexes mightily at the camera and roars… as the scene fades to black.***

[Quillz]

***The scene opens backstage at the PWA Arena. PWA Investigative Journalist Ronnie Stockholm is walking down a long hallway with a camera crew in tow. Stockholm glances to his left and notices that a torn sheet of corrugated cardboard has been scotch-taped to a closed door. The cardboard sheet has “BOILER ROOM” written on it in black Sharpie. Stockholm raises an eyebrow and turns to the camera crew.***



STOCKHOLM: “We… we don’t have a boiler room at the arena do w…”



***Suddenly, the door bursts open and the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes tumble into the hallway. They are wearing sun hats and open Hawaiian shirts over their normal ring gear and masks. Seeing the two wrestlers, Stockholm motions for the camera crew to approach them.***



STOCKHOLM: “Junior Cobra, Giant Anaconda, I’m glad we ran into you. We were just looking for you in fact. We were hoping to get your thoughts on your chances in the tag-team tournament at the upcoming Rise of Kings supercard.”



***Cobra shoots a confused look at Giant Anaconda, who nods and gestures toward Stockholm. Cobra nods confidently and shoots Anaconda an enthusiastic thumbs-up. He then turns to Stockholm and grins.***



COBRA: “Sorry I’m not following… what now?”



***Stockholm furrows his brow and gives Giant Anaconda an exasperated look. Anaconda just shrugs.***



STOCKHOLM: “Um… the uh… the PWA Rise of Kings supercard… it’s… it’s a massive PPV … it’s this weekend. You’re um… you’re both fighting for the PWA Tag-Team Championship. You must have known about this.”



***Cobra just stares blankly at Stockholm for several seconds. After a few moments, Cobra lifts a hand and gestures broadly at his and Anaconda’s hats and shirts.***



STOCKHOLM: “Um… yeah. What are you guys wearing?”



COBRA: “Glad you asked Ronald! Giant Anaconda and I just got back from PWA’s amazing overseas tour. It was a packed six days, but man you can’t measure life experiences in minutes.”



STOCKHOLM: “You can actually. Wait, what? What PWA overseas tour??”



COBRA: “Oh come on Ron-Ron. THE overseas tour! The first step in PWA’s big middle-east partnership! We just got back from the glorious middle-east kingdom of Agrabah where we competed in The GREATEST PWA Assault. It was the biggest event EVER! All in the name of sowing the important partnership between PWA and the Agrabah royal family! And what a show it was, let me tell you!”



STOCKHOLM: “…”



COBRA: “…”



STOCKHOLM: “That’s not a thing.”



COBRA: “…hiss…”



STOCKHOLM: “There’s no such place as Agrabah and I happen to know that every PWA Superstar has been right here preparing for the Rise of Kings.”



COBRA: “Oh well YEAH, all the guys were here sure! See, Agrabah is a very conservative culture. Under strict societal law, MEN aren’t allowed to compete in athletic events over there. So only the PWA Women’s Division went.”



STOCKHOLM: “What? Then how were YOU allowed to comp… wait, PWA doesn’t even HAVE a women’s division!”



COBRA: “See… it’s that kind of backwards, sexist thinking that has held back women’s wrestling for the past 900 years. Anyway Ronnie, it was an AMAZING event. EVERY women’s title was defended. TWICE. And the whole event culminated with the GREATEST Time-Delay Battle Royale in wrestling history! Instead of eight wrestlers competing at two-minute entry intervals… THIS battle royale had eight wrestlers competing at 120 minute entry intervals! It was the GREATEST time-delay of ALL TIME for our magnificent Agrabah fans, praise and glory to the royal family of Agrabah and all the money they paid me to shill this!”



STOCKHOLM: “You’re making this up.”



COBRA: “Unfortunately, we were never able to finish the match. Due to a miscommunication, the match had to be ended early. See, once the first wrestler entered the ring, all the fans got bored and went home before the second wrestler entered the match two hours later.”



STOCKHOLM: “You have got to be kidding me.”



COBRA: “It’s called innovation Stockholm. It’s not an exact science. Sad sight too… over the next 14 hours, wrestlers entered the ring one after another to a completely empty arena. Finally had to call it off when the first three competitors fell asleep. Anyway, it was a great event… and a beautiful country full of amazing and glorious people with no faults or social hang-ups whatsoever.”



STOCKHOLM: “That all sounds… fascinating. Anyway, what are your thoughts regarding the Rise of K…”



COBRA: “WHELP… we’d better be hitting the old dusty trail. We seem to have lost Derrick Arzon and we should probably find him before he runs out of air. Looking forward to a long leisurely weekend without any responsibilities or events to attend whatsoever. Have a nice weekend Ronson. Ciao!”



***Cobra claps Ronnie Stockholm on the shoulder and bounds enthusiastically down the hallway. Anaconda just stands there and stares blankly at Stockholm as the camera fades to black.

[BG05]

(Brian Fury is standing in front of a PWA banner with a towel draped over his head. His eyes peer through the darkness with an intense stare. Fury raises a microphone with his right hand and speaks directly to the camera.)

Fury: Do I even need to SAY anything to anyone? Everybody knows what’s at stake. We’re all gunning for the PWA heavyweight championship. The time for talking is OVER! For weeks I’ve stepped in the ring with the very best PWA had to offer and at Rise of Kings I get to do it again only THIS time it’s for the championship and the right to be called the best in the world!!

There are no friends, no allies, only yourself you can count on. I heard Pennyworth crying to the world that we were friends.

(Fury pulls the towel off his head and stares right at the camera.)

Fury: Let’s get one thing straight: A long time ago we TRAINED together.....but we were never friends. I’ll give you credit and admit you got better than I ever thought you would be. I’ll even take it one step further and admit that I don’t have a CLUE how you escaped my finisher so many times when we wrestled. But the bottom line is that on your BEST DAY you couldn’t beat me! I beat YOU and I beat Yamasaki too. The most insane guy on the roster that everyone was backing away from couldn’t handle Brian Fury!

Now it’s come down to one opportunity for the gold! One opportunity that I have NEVER been given. One opportunity I earned through blood, sweat, and tears! Understand that 7 men stand between me and destiny. If you THINK you’ve seen me INTENSE, if you THINK you have an idea of how far I will go to become champion......YOU HAVE NO IDEA! Blood WILL spill, bones WILL break, and I WILL......BE........CHAMPION!

(Scene fades to black.)

[Quillz]

***The scene opens in front of a simple black and burgundy curtain backdrop. Standing center frame is Nemesis Rex. A simple black leather vest hangs over his pale, battle-scarred shoulders. His silver hair is pulled into a neat ponytail, revealing a bearded face that has been creased with the lines of age, and brilliant blue-white eyes that flash with an energy that belies his advanced years. He has the tone and cadence of a measured man who is fit and lithe well beyond his expected prime. His mouth is creased in a crooked smile, but it never reaches his eyes. When he speaks, he does do in the measured, matter-of-fact tone of a sociopath.***



NEMESIS: “So Johnny Ecks… it’s finally all caught up with you hasn’t it? You finally see where you truly stand… ALONE… a man out of time… a soldier of a bygone war whose best glories are perpetually fading into the ever shrinking past. Believe me when I say… I truly do feel your pain. You and I… we are the same you see. Both of us saw great success in a bygone federation. Both of us were ruthless, feared men that stood tall over our respective generations of contemporaries.”



***Nemesis Rex looks down and to the left as his gaze grows distant and his smile fades.***



NEMESIS: “The difference between us though… is that I have been through all this before. I saw my fortunes rise and fall and rise again long before ever setting foot in Eddie Lukin’s egomaniacal promotion. While you were still cutting your teeth on your first glories… I was on my third or fourth revolution on this mad ride of an industry we inhabit… I had long since seen friends and colleagues fall by the wayside, unable to stand in the shadow of my greatness. Many times over I had cast my closest allies aside in the dirt as they stood between me and my rise to glory. For thirty years… my eyes have been WIDE open as I’ve made my way in this treacherous world. Only the strong survive… only those willing to sacrifice everything ever truly achieve ANYTHING.”



***Nemesis Rex shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.***



NEMESIS: “Which is why I’ve been watching you so closely… ever since you chose to reemerge and rise to the challenge one more time on this new field of combat. Do you know what I see when I look at you in the ring, strutting and preening like you haven’t missed a step in sixteen years? I see a man who is overcompensating. I see a man who is… at some deep and meaningful level… lost, and looking to reclaim past glories. I wonder Johnny… just why did you decide to come back after all these years? What hidden need inside you drove you to step back in this arena?”



***Nemesis Rex stares at the camera for several moments… then shrugs and smiles his predatory wolfish smile again.***



NEMESIS: “Now me… I know exactly why I am here. I’m here because at heart, I’m really nothing more than a cat. I’m curious by nature... prone to tempting fate… contemptuous of all those around me… and always ready to spend one of my stocked up lives on whatever dangerous new fancy occurs to me. I’ve nothing left to prove you see. I’ve been champion more times than I can count. In my advanced years… all that really excites me are… new things that I haven’t seen before. And you Johnny Ecks… are something new. You appear to be a man who has just realized that the world has passed him by… that the friends he thought he could count on are mere memories. Despite your bravado and sterling appearance… you seem like a man on the verge of collapsing in on himself under the weight of his own feelings of inadequacy. And that, Johnny Ecks… is FASCINATING to me.”



***Nemesis Rex begins to pace back and forth slowly in front of the camera.***



NEMESIS: “So Johnny Ecks… let us dance one last time, at the Rise of Kings. You and I, two relics of the past with no place in this complex and fast moving world. Let’s finish this sordid, messy affair and be done with it… let us burn in a blaze of glory on the grand stage one last time, and laugh as the illusions we create for ourselves crumble inward… and when you think you’ve given your all… when you think to yourself… ‘at least I took that old bastard down with me’… watch, as I rise like a phoenix and continue to live on… unwavering… inevitable like the tide… while you fade into obscurity, broken, beaten… and forgotten.”



***Nemesis Rex’s smile fades to a dead-faced scowl, as the screen fades to black.***

[Stu]

BECKETT: "Rise of Kings. Everyone is talking about it, and rightly so. It promises to be the greatest event yet in the illustrious history of professional wrestling. It will put forth a series of test, trials to see who in this promotion is worthy of the title of Champion. The weeks that have lead us here will be nothing compared to the competition that lies before us.

"Now I know what many of you are thinking, that the championship is out of my grasp, that I have no business among the formidable athletes that will shine and bleed on that great stage this Friday night, and I'd be lying if I denied that it's like a worm under my skin, the idea that I, Bartholomew Beckett, world renowned technical wrestling expert, am denied my rightful place in this competition by a system that favors popularity over prowess, that I have been cheated out of my opportunity to wear the title that I so richly deserve-

"But that can be handled later. Let them kill themselves for the title. It will be much easier to take it back from one pretender than from four.

"My concern at Rise of Kings, my only concern, is finally putting an end to this business between myself and Snow.

"I beat him by submission in our first encounter, clear and unquestionably. He then cajoled the fans, trying to get them to force me into another match, but I refused to be bullied. Failing in that, he tried every underhanded trick of which he could think: bringing in another masked has-been to gang up on me, bribing a young wrestler out of his opportunity to face me, trying to force me into an illegal match. Then, when his own efforts failed, he went crawling to upper management, who obliged by waving the rules and forcing me into a match for which I was unprepared, blindsided!

"Well, Snowflake, you win. You have achieved your goal. Now, there are no titles on the line for either of us. There is no turning back. You wanted your rematch with me so badly, you sacrificed everything to get it, including that which is rightfully mine, and you got your way.

"You will regret it, Sunshine. For you see, now I am more dangerous than ever I was before. You think I was dangerous before, love? Dear me, no.
You have put me in a place where I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by defeating you and removing you from this business for ever. You think you've seen the worst of the Brawler? Mush, you've yet to see anything. By the time I am finished with you, in my ring, you'll be begging for Damion Black to burn your contract! I've wrestled men worth ten of you, and I've beaten them all! You want my best? You'll get my worst! I have never retreated, I will not back down, and come Friday night, I and the wrestling world will finally be rid of you!"

[Quillz]

***The scene opens backstage at PWA Arena. Junior Cobra peeks his head out from the left of the scene. He waggles his dripping paper bag in front of the camera.***

COBRA: “Um... so... is that a no on the mask then? Yes? No? Maybe? No... no I get it. Ya’ll need more time. Lot on your mind. Lotta balls in the air. I hear ya, believe you me. Take your time brother... take your time. You know how to reach me.”

***Cobra makes a phone gesture with his thumb and pinkie. He clearly mouths ‘call me’ before winking and nodding knowingly as the scene fades to black.***

[Snow]

Snow sits on a metal folding chair, a duplicate of his mask in his hands.

It's funny how the little things can matter. When I was a kid, watching the shows that came on TV up here in Canada, the luchadore wasn't anything that I knew about. I was a fan of the big guys, the heavyweights. That's who I wanted to be. Now, I never managed to, well, measure up to their size standards, but that didn't stop me from joining the biz the first chance I got. I jumped into a dojo in Toronto, got the basics, but I was getting thrown around by the big guys. Yeah, I'd heard of the Mexican scene by then, but like I said, I was enamored with the heavyweight style.

It wasn't until my trainer, a big guy named Dom Steele, basically refused to teach me anymore that I started to see the light. To see who I was. Dom told me I'd hit my peak in the style, and recommended a gym down in Guadalajara. No, that's not true. He basically forced me down there. Bought my plane ticket and a pocket Spanish translator.

He was right, of course. Once I started in Mexico, things just seemed to click. I was working under my real name at the time, and it wasn't until one of the bigger companies was looking for a curtain jerker that the story of Snow really took off. They didn't want some gringo coming out and ruining their image, so they insisted I put on a mask. Ridiculous, I thought, but they handed me a generic plain white mask. It wasn't much, but it was the start.

A stupid piece of spandex and leather, I thought. Ruining my vision, my hearing. Why can't I just be Chris Snow, the Canadian jobber? But then, something happened. I started getting cheers. The other guys backstage started suggesting minor modifications to the mask. I took them with grace, made some edits. And the cheers grew. And the mask grew on me. By the time I started looking back at the American promotions, I couldn't imagine wrestling without it.

It had become part of me.

Sure, there's been a misstep here and there along the way. But everything I've done, everything I've stood for over a long career. It all comes to a head at Rise of Kings. In my match there, I put my very identity on the line against Brawler Beckett's career.

Snow goes silent for a while, continuing to stare at the mask in his hand. After a bit, he stands, dropping the mask on the ground.

Let me make one thing clear. Beckett says he has nothing to lose? That I've backed him into a corner? Bart, you don't know anything about me. I am in just as much as a corner as you are. While my career may be able to continue if I lose, who I am, the very essence of my being in this ring, disappears; POOF; without a trace if you win. I have stood by and watched you twist the rules, bend them to the very snapping point. You have no honor. You have no tact. You have no grace.

And after Rise of Kings, you will have no career. My very identity is at stake, and I will not let that go. Get ready for your final curtain call, Bart. You are through.

[Nick Spoils]

Gary Bloomfield and Nick Spoils sit in an interview set. A short wooden table with a couple glasses of water sits between them. There is no sign of Armageddon or Yamasaki Nakamura.

GARY: Thank you for being here today, Nick.

NICK: There is a big event coming up, in case you hadn't noticed. Where else would I be?

GARY: Well, with your clients, for one. Where are they?

NICK: Gary, when I speak, I speak for them. There is no doubt that they are more intimidating than I am, but I don't need that intimidation factor here with you. They are busy right now, doing some final training for Rise of Kings. Nakamura has a bunch of dummies set up, and he's practicing where best to attack to draw blood. Ragnarok and Gehenna are perfecting their chemistry. They don't need me for that.

GARY: I see. So are you confident in their chances this weekend, then?

NICK: Are you kidding me? Nakamura is certifiable. There is no doubt that in that battle royal, he is going to inflict pain, and lots of it. There WILL be blood. He could even make it to the final two, just by sheer attrition. And that final bout would be absolutely brutal. You've seen the punishment he can dish out in a single fall. Can you imagine an opponent having to defeat him twice? Whoever that wrestler is would undoubtedly win -- I just can't convince the man to try for a pinfall. But he'd be enjoying his belt in the emergency room afterwards.

GARY: So you think he'll make it to that final match?

NICK: I never said that. There are going to be lots of men in that ring, and they are all, to a man, afraid of Yamasaki Namakura. My guess is that once Pennyworth and MacElroy make it into the ring, and after Fury for sure, there's going to be some double or triple teaming on the Divine Psycho. He may be a beast, but when everyone is afraid of you, they make it a point to take you down as quickly as they can. Don't worry, though. He has plenty of tricks up his sleeve, and you will see his signature brand of brutality on complete display in that match.

GARY: And what about Armageddon? Surely you believe they've got a prime opportunity.

NICK: No. They SHOULD have had a prime opportunity. Instead, Damion Black has seen fit to team them up with a sad sack second rate tag team just to qualify to go for the title. Instead of just giving us the title and having us showcase our skills defending it at this event, instead we have to rely on two other men that are barely fit to stand in the same ring as us to not drag us down.

GARY: You realize Armageddon lost to the Coldsnakes, right?

NICK: Technicalities, Gary. You saw that match. That was a handicap match. Ragnarok decided he didn't need help, and he paid for his hubris. The boys have been whipped into shape, and they are gelling as a true team. So it doesn't matter who we team with, who we eventually face off against. They aren't qualified to clean Armageddon's jock straps. You ask me if I'm confident? Let me put it this way. When Rise of Kings ends, Armageddon will either stand tall as the rightful Tag Team Champions, or they will have been screwed over by the partners that Black saddled them with, and will hold the #1 Contenders slot. Either way, it's only a matter of time before they have the belts. Whether they get what they deserve this weekend, or at some Assault in the future, depends entirely on Black and his choice of partners.

GARY: You haven't even been told who you are teaming with yet, and you're already blaming your loss on your partners?

NICK: It's simple, Gary. There isn't another tag team in this company that's worth a damn. The Coldsnakes. Alpha Omega. The Blood Brothers. Hell, Nemesis Ecks. None of them are capable of the pure destruction Armageddon can cause. None of them could stand up to the brutal onslaught of my boys. None of them would do anything but bring us down. And if we DO lose, which isn't a guarantee, because my boys could carry anyone to to the title match if given the chance, but if we DO lose, then it'll be because whatever team we're saddled with doesn't listen to my orders and brings us down. Fortunately, if that does happen...instant karma, as they will then be the recipients of the righteous fury of Armageddon. Now if you don't mind, I have other things to take care of.

GARY: Thank you for your time Nick.

NICK: Yeah, whatever.

[Pennyworth]

A limo pulls up outside of the Arena. The chauffeur darts to the back and opens the door, allowing Richard Pennyworth III to emerge. He is carrying a bag that obviously contains his wrestling gear. He starts to walk towards the arena, then notices the camera and stops.

I've been quiet the last couple of weeks. Training is hard work. Tonight, there is a grande stage. 8 Men, 1 Title. Me, I'm built for a grande stage. Sure, I may not have been at my best during the tournament, but I proved I can hang with the best. I proved I can lock the Money Clip onto anyone at any time. And tonight, I'm going to prove that I have what it takes to be champion.

He walks into the building, and the camera continues to focus on him until the door closes behind him.

[Quillz]

***The scene opens at a packed PWA house show in Indianapolis. This is the last PWA live event before this weekend’s PWA Rise of Kings Supercard. The capacity, sold-out stadium of 2,500 rabid wrestling fans crackles with energy and anticipation for this weekend’s unprecedented pay-per-view event. As always, PWA cameras are rolling, collecting all the action, taping matches for PWA Rewind and the internationally syndicated PWA Action. Suddenly the arena lights lower and blue and white lasers decorate the entrance ramp. The large, 25 ft LED screen that hangs above the entrance area flashes with the name AKIRA WYLD, and the arena erupts into a mixed chorus of boos and cheers.***



***Smoke rolls out of the entrance area and the floor is blanketed in a cloud of silver as laser lights ping and reflect off the haze. After a few moments, Akira Wyld emerges from the entrance area to thunderous boos. As always, he is wearing his signature charcoal gray leather jacket. His wet, silver hair hangs messily in his eyes as he scans the crowd with a look of disdain. He marches purposefully to the ring, barely slowing as he rolls under the rope and makes his way over to the far turnbuckle. With one confident motion he mounts the turnbuckle and holds his arms out to the crowd, palms up, taunting the crowd and intensifying their reaction. He then hops down from the turnbuckle and gestures for a stagehand to throw him a microphone. The microphone flies and he snatches it out of the air with a sharp jerk of his arm. Wyld paces back and forth in the ring as the crowd quiets and a blue-white spotlight shines down on him. After scanning the crowd one final time, he raises the microphone to speak.***



WYLD: “In just one day… PWA will present its first EVER Supercard event… the Rise of Kings.”



***The crowd erupts in deafening cheers. Wyld no-sells the positive reaction and rolls his eyes.***



WYLD: “24 hours from this very moment… the Prestige Wrestling Association will crown its FIRST EVER Heavyweight Champion of the WORLD.”



***Again the crowd explodes. Akira Wyld lowers his microphone and scans the crowd with narrowed eyes.***



WYLD: “Tomorrow at PWA Rise of Kings… the Surgical Specialist will compete against seven other superstars in the most important battle royale in wrestling history. And because I’m a winner… because I’m a CHAMPION through and through… I get to enter that career-defining match in the SEVENTH slot… meaning that the previous six competitors will have been beating on each other for TEN long minutes before I even have to set foot in the ring.”



***The crowd boos and Akira flashes an obnoxious smirk.***



WYLD: “They say that the cream always rises… and isn’t that the truth? For weeks I’ve been telling all of you idiots that I’m the best damn wrestler that this promotion has ever seen. I’ve been calling myself the uncrowned champion and for good reason! Each and every wrestler that I’ve stepped into the ring with, I have cut down and HUMBLED! It doesn’t matter if you’re a jacked-up monster from the mean streets or a blathering Scottish hardhead or a psychotic painted madman… when you step into the ring with the SURGICAL SPECIALIST… you meet your match. I know it… you all know it… everyone backstage knows it. I am the MAN to beat this weekend at Rise of Kings.”



***The raucous crowd showers Akira Wyld with boos. Akira just smirks and takes it all in… before shaking his head and frowning at the ground. He holds one index finger high in the air.***



WYLD: “Each and every claim I’ve made I’ve backed up in the ring. Each and every proclamation I’ve laid down has come to pass. The only man to come out of his tournament with a higher score than me is Tiger Gold… a man that I beat SOUNDLY in our tournament match. So… you tell ME who has the best odds of walking out of Rise of Kings with gold around his waist.”



***The crowd begins to chant TIGER GOLD, TIGER GOLD loudly at the top of their lungs. Akira Wyld waits patiently while their cheers die down.***



WYLD: “You know… with all the dominoes falling the way they have… with Rise of Kings looming and with Akira Wyld riding a wave of success all the way to the top of the world… you’d THINK I’d be happy. You’d think I’d be flying high on a wave of adrenaline, ready to take Rise of Kings by storm. You’d think that… because you’re all morons and you haven’t been paying attention. You’d think that… because at the end of the day you’re all Damion Blacks little flock of sheep and the only things YOU all know are the convenient little bedtime fictions that you’re spoon-fed while you’re tucked in and night in your PJs with your warm glass of milk. None of you really know what it takes to be a winner. None of you understand what a dirty, cutthroat business this really is. Let me give each and every one of you limp-wristed, weak-willed, dreamers a little history lesson about what PWA really stands for.”



***Wyld paces back and forth in the ring.***



WYLD: “Ever since this over-hyped organization started… our glorious company owner, Damion Black, has done everything in his power to stand between me and the respect and recognition that I deserve. He’s put wall after wall between me and the rewards that I have RIGHTFULLY EARNED. At every turn, Black has put hired hitmen in my path. He’s UNFAIRLY put me in no-win situations. He’s used his power and his pocketbook to make a mockery of the wrestling legacy I’ve built through my own blood, sweat, and tears.”



***Wyld looks at the crowd and nods his head, as if scores of fans were agreeing with him.***



WYLD: “Let me take you back to just a week ago… I was a broken, bloody MESS. That psychopath Nakamura Yamasaki had cut me to ribbons in our match… WHICH I WON BY THE WAY. I was suffering from multiple lacerations, deep muscle contusions, ligament strains… you name it. My very wrestling career may well have been in jeopardy. So… like any respectable professional athlete, I explained to ‘Mr. Black’ that I was unprepared to compete in that week’s tournament match, and I laid out clear and irrefutable evidence that I was entitled to a bye against Kevin Starr. How did our esteemed leader respond to this absolutely reasonable statement of fact? He did what he always does. He ACTED. Now, don’t misunderstand me… I don’t mean that he ‘took action’… no no no… what I mean is, he fell back on his tried and true Hollywood sensibilities and put up one hell of an ACT. He looked me square in the eyes… swore up and down that he understood what I was going through, and he PROMISED ME that he would do EVERYTHING in his power to make it right! And would you believe that I ACTUALLY BELIEVED HIM?! I know I know… fool me once, shame on you… but no, like a fool I actually took him at face-value and thought that MAYBE, FINALLY we were starting to see eye to eye.”



***Wyld laughs under his breath and shakes his head.***



WYLD: “Of course you all know how that turned out. With less than 24 hours to go until PWA Assault, Black sends me an email… an EMAIL… telling me that “he’s done all he can” but I have to wrestle. Oh I’m sorry… no that’s not completely accurate. He said that I COULD have the night off, in exchange for FOREFITING my match against Starr. Let me ask you people… does THAT sound like the kind of thing that the owner of an honest, legitimate athletic organization would say? Does it?? What kind of man puts their hard-working, professional athlete in a situation like that? A situation in which I had to choose between my HEALTH and my CAREER? Only a low-bellied, snake in the grass would dream of stooping so low. I’ll tell you what… I know what’s going on. Black WANTED me to forfeit my match. Look at the brackets! If I had forfeited to Starr… I wouldn’t be in the number seven slot. No…I would have dropped THREE slots down to the number four. And wouldn’t that have just made Damion Black pleased as punch? Wouldn’t he love it if, with a single EMAIL he were able to cut my chances at victory to a mere fraction like that? Well… thankfully, I’m a natural-born champion. Thankfully, at the end of the day, I was able to suck it up and go out there and do what I do like only I can. Sorry Black… once again, I’m two steps ahead of everything you do! And you’d better believe that I’ll never make the mistake of trusting your sorry, two-faced ass again.”



***Wyld flashes a dangerous-looking smile at the camera.***



WYLD: “So, that brings me to the Rise of Kings. This time tomorrow… I will step into the ring with seven of the best heavyweights in the world. This time tomorrow… I will show the entire world ONCE AND FOR ALL just why Akira Wyld is the best wrestler on the planet. No more stalling… no more excuses… no more backstage, backstabbing owners! Just eight of the most amazing athletes to ever grace a wrestling ring, laying it all on the line for the chance to prove to the world that they are the BEST. And Damion Black… I may not like you or your overblown wrestling organization… but I do like to win. For nearly two decades I’ve broken my back around the world to prove that I’m the best there is in the game. And even I have to admit… you’ve built a hell of a roster here in PWA. The wrestlers who meet at the Rise of Kings battle royale truly are the eight best heavyweights in the world… and nothing would make me happier than to PROVE for one final time that even in a field made of the best in the world… NOBODY holds a candle to Akira Wyld.”



***Wyld stares intensely at the camera and points to himself.***

WYLD: “So Damion Black… I suggest you polish up that shiny new title belt and get ready to eat a big slice of humble pie. Because WHEN I win the Rise of Kings championship battle royale… I expect you to do the RIGHT thing… and that’s to stand right here in this ring, hand me my rightfully won title belt… and admit to the ENTIRE WORLD, that Akira Wyld is and always has been the better man.”



***Wyld drops the microphone in the ring, and steps out between the ropes and up the entrance ramp, to a shower of boos. Fade to black.***