I Shall Put You Back in Chains, Sir!

Lord Blackwing cracks William across the shin with his cane.

"Pinned!"

William says nothing. He know better than to argue with his superior. Blackwing paces furiously around the locker room, as Duke Reginald and William stand solemnly, their heads lowered in shame. Ian lays on the sofa, an ice pack on his head. Blackwing looks at him for a moment before turning his attention back to Reginald and William.

"This sort of incompetence, I could expect from Ian. But William! You too? This is supposed to be your area of expertise."

He smacks William's shin again, sending another sharp pain coursing through William's leg, then turns to Reginald.

"And you! Are you not a skilled boxer? And you are taken out with one punch from an overgrown pig?"

Reginald too, says nothing, but winces as he's smacked in the shin with Blackwing's cane.

"Were this anybody else, I would have you on the next boat to England. But you two have proven in the past that you are more than capable of fixing this blunder."

He pulls a slip of paper out of his breast pocket.

"The card for Demolition Day. The next show. A 'Pay-Per-View,' as they call it."

"Who would honestly pay to watch this garbage?"

Reginald immediately falls silent as Blackwing gives him a warning glare.

"William Darlington, ZIF, Lord Blackwing, and James Shark, a fatal four-way elimination match for the Full Throttle Championship."

He looks at William.

"This is your battle, William. My time in the ring is done. I will personally ensure that you do not fail again like you have failed tonight. I will make sure that you walk out as the Full Throttle Champion."

"Thank you, my Lord."

He turns to Reginald.

"You, on the other hand, shall fight in the handicap."

"The handicap?"

Blackwing grins.

"Chris Matthews against the Right Honourable Gentlemen."

He slips the card back into his pocket.

"This should be the easiest match in the history of our formation. So tell me. Why do I feel like you will somehow muck this up?"

"I will not fail."

"No. You won't. Because, as usual, your Lord has a plan. Gentlemen, I promise you, tonight was merely a setback. It shall not happen again. Next week, the Gentlemen will rise higher than we have before. And from there, it will only be a matter of time before our ultimate goal is carried out and we succeed in our mission. Are we in agreement?"

"Yes, sir."

"Of course."

"Wonderful. You are dismissed."

William turns and heads out, followed by Reginald.

"We must get together for tea this week, William."

"Yes...I'll give you a call later this week."

"Good day, William."

He bows slightly, a gesture which William returns.

"Good day, Reginald."

They walk off in separate directions down the hall. William is thinking. Next week, he would fight three other men for the chance to become the first Full Throttle Champion. Lord Blackwing had said he would be trying to help William win...but there was a part of William that thought maybe his mother had been right all along. Maybe this was part of some plot of Blackwing's. But then...what would William do if that was the case? He would not fight against it. He would not oppose Blackwing. Blackwing had been like a father for many years. William owed the man much respect. He attributed much of what he knew to Blackwing. He could not disrespect him.

William is abruptly brought back to reality as he turns the corner. crashing into someone, and knocking both of them to the ground.

"Bloody-"

William starts to growl, but catches sight of who he had just bumped into.

"I'm sorry."

William knew her. Where did he know her? She was young. Blonde. An attractive little thing...for an American. She stares at him for a moment.

"You're the wrestler, aren't you? From Nottingham?"

"Yes."

It impressed me slightly that she knew where I was from, let alone that Nottingham was actually a city....ignorant Americans.

"William, right?"

"William Darlington, yes. What was your name?"

"Megan. Megan O'Day."

"Ah, yes, the ring announcer."

She extends her hand. I take it, raising it to my lips, and kissing it gently. She giggles.

"Well...um...nice to meet you."

"And to you."

William and Megan stare at each other for a moment. Finally, he looks away.

"Well...I must be off."

"Yeah...right."

He steps to the left as she steps to the right...only for them to find each other in their way once more. She laughs, and steps to the left...just as William moves to the right. This time, William can't help but smirk.

"I'll go left."

He steps aside, and passes her, brushing against her as he passes.

"Will-...Mr. Darlington?"

William turns around.

"Do you...do you want to hang out next week? After the show?"

"Hang out?"

"You know, just...wander the city...maybe get a bite...celebrate your title victory?"

William laughs.

"We shall see."

He turns and walks off, leaving Megan standing in the middle of the hall.

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Good Lord, Mr. Shark, do you ever shut up?

At least ZIF, this self proclaimed "Bad ass" knows that he will be in the presence of nobility this week, and knows better than to disrespect his betters. I tip my hat to you, Mr...ah...ZIF?

But Shark, you seem to have an issue accepting this simple fact. You, sir, are outnumbered. There is ZIF, who is afraid to fight Blackwing and myself. There's Blackwing, who will be supporting yours truly in this fight...and there's me. England's Favourite Son. And I alone, am better than you.

Quite frankly James, I don't think you stand a chance in hell.

At Demolition Day, I will take my spot as one of the three champions in IWF. I shall rise to a seat of power not yet held. The first Full Throttle Champion. And it comes to my attention...

The Full Throttle Championship holds a bit of weight, doesn't it? The three titles in IWF...and this one means something a bit more.

There's the IWF Championship, which no doubt will be brought udner England's banner by Brandon Macdonald. The highest prize of the federation. The world title itself.

There's the High Impact Championship...held by Connor O'Shannon...hardly the definition of "High Impact." The poor blighter wouldn't know Impact if it came up and kicked his sorry bottom back to Ireland. The only reason he holds that belt is because my good friend Ian had a rough night.

But let me assure you, it is only a matter of time before that belt too comes home with the Gentlemen.

Then, finally, there is the Full Throttle Title...a belt which, if defended seven times, can be exchanged for a shot at the IWF Title. Any time, any place.

Glorious.

I shall embark on this journey to the top this week, when I take hme the Full Throttle Championship. From there, it will be seven short weeks of dominating this pathetic excuse for competition around here. I promise you, I will be defending this title with valour. With honour.

For England.