Damien Drake [vs.] Jacob Figgins [vs.] Desmond Young [vs.] John Tolly

Let's see who can survive the new guy scramble!

Guest

(The scene opens up backstage, as Javier Sanchez is standing with Desmond Young, in front of an “IWF: Rising Monarchy” backdrop. Desmond stands there, clad in an expensive Armani suit and some sunglasses. He stands there, rubbing his hands together, acting generally uninterested.)

Javier Sanchez: Desmond, in one week at Rising Monarchy, you’ll be competing in a Fatal 4-Way match, with the winner becoming the #1 contender for the IWF Uprising Championship. Thoughts going into the match?

Desmond Young: Over the past few weeks, there’s been a lot on my mind. A lot. I mean, I’m telling you, Javier … My mind has just been buzzing, especially ever since this match was announced.

Javier Sanchez: Well it is a pretty big match. I mean, you’ve got the guy who just beat, Damien Drake. You’ve got Jacob Figgins. And you’ve got John Tolly. All three men present a very tough obstacle so it’s understandable that you’d have a lot on your mind.

Desmond Young: You’re right. And above all else, the real questions still loom … Just how exactly do I feel like winning this match? I mean, I look at guys like Figgins and Tolly and I see nothing more than a couple of scrubs who are lucky to even be here. And then there’s Damien Drake who, I’ll admit, caught me off guard and got a win over me. But that won’t happen again. With the show being in Boston, the question that’s weighed real heavily on my mind is … What club should I hit up after I win that #1 contendership? Those are the REAL taxing questions that have been on my mind.

Javier Sanchez: That’s not really what I was talking about, when I said that …

Desmond Young: I don’t really care what you’re talking about. What? Should I be sitting, nervously at home, nervously, in my room because of the match? Sitting there, wondering if I can get a win over the guy that spoiled my debut? Worrying about Figgins is gonna hit me with that loaded up elbow pad he likes to wear around? Tearing myself in half because someone who’s been touted as a future star of the company, like Tolly, is in this match? Naw. That’s not me. Because I don’t wonder if I will beat Drake, this time. I KNOW I will. I don’t care what Figgins tries to hit me with because unless it‘s a 12 gauge, it won‘t do jack. I’ve made a habit of it and I don’t intend on breaking that habit now. And I don’t care how much potential that people see in John Tolly. Potential can only take you so far, it’s what you do with it. And what I plan on doing with my infinite potential is using it to the max and show exactly why the IWF signed me to a deal. To show the world that I’m as good as I say I am. And that what they saw last week, when I lost that match against Damien Drake? Ain’t gonna be the norm.

Javier Sanchez: So do you think your loss was a fluke?

Desmond Young: I won’t call it a fluke. Like I said, Drake is good. And he got the best of me … That time. I just can’t help but think … How does someone get to be so lucky? I mean, come on... Damien is good but look at me, man. I’ve got talent leaking out my ears. I am a far superior athlete, than he is. He’s got the strength advantage … But I got everything else. I’m faster. I’m more athletic. I’m certainly smarter. They just don’t make ‘em like me anymore … Well … They never made ‘em like me before, either. I’m a once in a life time kind of wrestler. I’m going to lose here and there. But you best believe that those loses are gonna be as rare as finding a $2 bill sitting on the side of the road.

Javier Sanchez: Does anyone in this match really concern you, even in the least bit?

Desmond Young: Another stupid question. You know what?

(Desmond goes out of the shot of the camera and then comes back in. He tosses a t-shirt over Javier’s head.)

Desmond Young: There. Leave that there. Maybe since you’ll be too busy looking like an idiot, it’ll take your mind off of thinking up stupid questions. But to quickly address that, no, nobody concerns me. Look, I look at myself and I see that I’m on a whole other level than those guys. Arrogant? Maybe, I don’t care. True? You’re damn right it is. People are going to label me as someone who’s all talk ‘cuz I didn’t back it up in my first match here. And while I’m not makin’ excuses, let me remind you that I haven’t wrestled in over a year. That’s the first time in over a year that I stepped back into a ring. So maybe I was a little off my game, who knows. What I do know is that, there’s a reason that I’ve been called “The Natural” throughout my career because this wrestling shit is nothing but second nature to me. Wrestling comes as easy to me as eating, breathing and sleeping. And the fans of the IWF and the people backstage will all see that soon enough. Just watch. I’ll show the world, no matter how much they won’t want it, that I’m the future of this company and there’s only 2 things that they’ll be able to do about it. They can either like “The A.S.S. …. Or they can kiss the ass.”

*Desmond looks at Javier and then walks off of the set, leaving him there with the shirt over his head*

Javier Sanchez: Hello? Hello? Desmond? Are you there? Hello? Anybody? Is anybody there? I don’t dare try to take it off in case this is some kind of joke or a test. Hello? …

(Javier continues to call out for someone, as the scene fades out to black.)

~~~

((Off Camera))

For once we are granted a sight of the upstiars portion of our hero's house, which, oddly enough was rather spotless despite his schedule of constantly traveling and his abilty to always find the messiest friends. The only thing out of place were two deep cuts into a support beam looked to be made by an axe like instrument. Our hero sits upon a couch, a full one, across a glass coffee table from that Brazilian british woman from the past. Jacob was nursing a glass off whiskey while he listened to what the hell she had to say.

???: “You know you still have a contract with me, right? We might be close family friends and all but if you void this contract you will be owing me a large sum. Like it or not I am still your manager, no matter what company you go to”

Figgy finishes the glass of whisky in one quick gulp, letting a chill run through him when the burn takes effect.

Figgy: “Listen, Lacey I ain't paying you a damn cent, and you aren't going to be my manager. Because, if I remember right you kind of sold me out to OOC, that lead to a beating and a what? Concussion, that's right. Now, tell me what part of that story was for my own best interests? What part of that event showed great management skill? Cause all I saw was very shitty management.”

Lacey's eyes roll as she picks up her drink, which was in a dainty coffee cup. She takes a slow sip as she seems to contemplate her answer, or at least put it in a way that Jacob could understand

Lacey: “Well, you said you were bored in the alliance, yet you hung around to plot revenge. Sure that's common in this business, but trying to take down the entire Order of Chaos on your own?That's suicide. I mean if you were'nt going to leave, a minor concussion was the least harmful way to get you out and go to some place that isn't holding you back.”

Jacob blinks, once , twice in rapid succession. It looked like a mix of confusion, disappointment and out rage. Apperenty it was a response in which required more whisky. He refilled his glass and slammed it in one gulp.

Figgy: “You get a fancy psychology degree from Cambridge university, You have acted as a sports psychiatrist for five years before becoming an agent. And you're telling me that after all your years of experience that that is your best answer?You're a bitch”

A smirk simply crosses her lips at Jacob's response. Michief sparkles across those brown eyes, as she once more sip from her coffee.

Lacey: “But I am the bitch with the contract. The bitch with five years left on said contract. The bitch who can take you to court and sue you for the remainder of my salary. Now, that will lead into the hundreds of thousands, with lawyers and court fees, into the millions. Now I know how much you get paid, I know how much you have in savings. So I know you can afford to pay it, but it will leave a terrible dent in that bank account of yours.

Another helping of whisky flows into the gullet of Jacob. He really didn't want to deal with Lacey and her nagging.

Figgy: “I guess you're a bitch with a job. These five years are going to be an eternity.”

Oh no! Will Figgy be taken under the short leash? Will the strippers ever leave his basement? Who gives a shit? This is all off camera anyway.

~~~
((On Camera))

The lidless eye soon takes in a world of sights, into the outside world, outside the stadium where Rising Monarchy was soon to be held. Lacey apperently thought it would be a good idea to fill in some time with an autograph signing. She figured it would be better for public relations than standing upon a soapbox and ranting like a mad man about the CIA hiding explosives in your breakfast cereals. That wasn't just a randomly thrown together example. The camera actually turned on right in the middle of that conversation.

Figgy : “Seriously dude! It's never happened to you because you are a non descript kinda dude. You blend in with the background, you don't make any waves, and you certainly don't believe in having dangerous fun. But the moment you slip up, the moment you become a blip upon the radar screen, they hover their fingers over the button. When you become too dangerous, you know too much then click! Blam! Splat! That mothafucker is fajita mix!!”

Despite being a non-descript kinda dude, the man Figgy spoke to was to describe. A man looking to be in his thirties, skinny as a rail. He wore a plain red cap and an Axle Vengence T-shirt. Yes, I know it is surprising that Axle has fans as well. Not to doubt his abilities, he just comes off as a dick. Anyway, the fan chuckles and wanders off toward the arena, getting the autograph from the funny paraoid dude was fine, but he was looking for a bigger name. Probably the dude on his shirt. Lacey shakes her head and randomly whispers into the next person in lines ear, hopin Figgy will stay on track if the right questions are asked. Now I really dont know the teenagers name to stumbled up to Figgy, but lets call him TIMMMAY, not Timmy, TIMMMAY!

TIMMMAY!: “Hey man, what do you think about your first IWF Pay Per View?”

A smirk grew from beneath those silver framed sunglasses as the question came up. Like he had been waiting for someone to ask all day.

Figgy: “ What do I think? I think that the time is right, you see despite losing on my debut I have been on a roll as of late. My last two matches have been a good showing of what I can do in the ring. It was a great showing of how devastating my Lariats can be, how they can turn a match around in a split second, or just flat out end a match. Seriously, my last match the Crisis Averted was over kill, just a preening of my feathers. I showed Brawley just what his arrogance, and training have lead up to. Thirty seconds of spot light while he just got leveled. And now I move onto this Rising Monarchy, faceing three other men, two I have already faced. One that has recently debuted. I love it, new guys seem to constantly come in. If I slow down even for a split second I could disappear amongst all the faces. But I won't. For now, in this company, I may be a new face, but I quickly become a household name anywhere I compete. A number one contenders match? Only speeding along that process further.”

TIMMAY! Smiled as he got an approving glance from Lacey and a little nudging for him to carry on, he was the last in line. So the conversation can go on for a while.

TIMMAY!: “I Dunno that Damien Drake guy seems pretty big.”

A fluid shrug rolls across Figgys shoulders at the comment. Despite the past loss to the big man, Figgy does not seem fazed .

Figgy: “Big guys can be a pretty daunting task, but they arent all that bad once you figured them out. And that's just what I did. I might have done little more than show off my toughness during our match, but big ol Damien has revealed a lot more. He's bent on destruction, on breaking opponents. While that may seem like a scary thought, it makes them very simple people. It almost makes them one dimensional in the ring. You introduce something from a different angle and they are backed into a corner. That is just another facet that I shall introduce into the match. I dont see things from one dimension, I have been in this business for far to long to ever fall into that mindset. I can improvise, I can snatch an opportunity from anywhere. The fact that malice comes behind each blow, each grapple of the big man does nothing more than send loud and clear telegraphs. Telegraphs that tell me when to move in and strike. You see, by winning, Damien has placed himself in the disadvantage. He hasnt learned anything from facing me. While I, have learned volumes. And I will use each and every page to my advantage.”

TIMMAY!: “But that Desmond person. He seems like a natural talent, and very confidant about it.”

Figgy: “So? Natural talent only means you are a bit ahead of the curve while you are in wrestling school. Releying solely on that is idiotic. Having a killer instinct to go straight for the juggular is one of the things that are in the slightest bit important. Having the experience of knowing when to zig instead of zag. Working everything you know into acts of muscle memory where you dont even have to think, your body just knows what to do in a certain situation. Having the initiative to jump through a window as soon as it opens. Those are all the things that are important that Desmond has failed to mention. And he tries to distract you from that, waving his money around and wearing flashy suits. Suits in this business are like wearing a mask. You are wearing it to create a pesense that isn't there. You are wearing it to project an aura of power and confidance that you don't have. Desmond is the kind of man to always look for something to lord over everyone else because he knows that he is lacking in many places. That suit, that cash, just smoke and mirrors to distract you from all the insecurity. I can see through the smoke and mirrors. And I don't need a shot gun to take him down. My size fourteen into his voice box? My elbow across his forehead? An arsenal of submission holds from every style imaginable? I don't need a firearm when I'm rocking those guns”

Libblalie libbalie TIMMAH!: “And the guy you beat, um Trolly?”

Figgy: “Well you gotta pity the guy, they keep spelling his name wrong on the cards. It's Tolly from what I heard, I don't know where the 'r' keeps coming from. But who knows? Maybe it is the management trying to make a pun. Maybe they are attempting symbolism. Maybe they are saying his career is a slow moving train wreck. Now I am not such a prick to make such claims about other people. But I won't question the validity, cause it's all reletive. The guy hasn't been on the best track, every one can see that. Last week was his first win in a long time. It seemed his match against me was the point that woke him up. And to Tolly, I say, you're welcome. But I can see he is still rubbing his eyes, getting the waking world back into focus. Will he wake up in time for Rising Monarchy? Doubtful. Though his eyes have opened, he is still wandering into the realm of slumber. And I honestly believe this coming match will only wake him a little bit further. But he won't be awake enough to pull off the victory”

TIMMAY casts a subtle glance to Lacey wondering if this autograph signing turned into impromptu interview was over. She nodded and let the kid get his autograph and be on his merry way.Lacey turned to Figgy.

Lacey: “Well, that is an improvement, you did manage to go for a while without dropping the f bomb.”

Figgy simply smirks.

Figgy: “Hey, I can drop huge variety of f bombs. Ones that aren't popular. Ones that haven't been used for a while like this! Foolishly forward my opponents fumble fantastically in a foolhardy fashion. Failing at face-saving; their facetiae quite flaccid. With fluidity one shall facilely floor these fops. My Facund facon shall flabbergast these fakes. To facilitate finality, fuck off !”

Lacey Facepalms as we glance into the blackness....

Tolly walked back to his seat after having just bowled a strike, his youngest daughter Jade grabs her pink bowling ball and starts to walk up to the lane. John turns to Jade

“Hunny do you need me to put the bumpers up?” He asked

Jade rolled her eyes “I’m 10 years old dad, I don’t need bumpers”

John smiled putting his hand on his daughters shoulders “Ok sweetie, I’m sorry. Guess I’m used to seeing you as a big girl?”

Jade gave a her dad a huge grin as she hurled her bowling ball down to lane hitting all but three pins, Johns other daughter Marisa visiting from Illinois State in Normal Illinois. John smiled as he took a swig of his beer. He was happy to be with his family again, it had been awhile since he had both of his daughters together. He knew Marisa had been working hard getting her business degree and need the break. He turned as his sister Jenny handed him another Guinness and opened one of her own.

“They’re so good together” She said pointing to Marisa and Jade laughing together.

John smiled and nodded “It’s awesome,Marisa has really taken Jade under her wing like a big sister. You would never know that they have different moms and never grew up together.

“It’s good to see you happy and smiling again bro. I was starting to wonder if we should start a suicide watch for you” Jenny said

John chuckled “Yeah I was getting a bit depressed there, but now I feel really rejuvenated. I’m ready for Sunday”

“Good to hear, that fatal four way isn’t going to be a cake walk” Jenny warned her brother

“Oh I understand that. Three other people trying to make and impact and make their names, but I feel pretty confident. Still I’m not going to take any one lightly.” John told Jenny

Jenny looked up at the board “well looks like it’s my turn” she said walking up to the ball return.

As Jenny walked away John let out a sigh, despite what he told his sister he still had his doubts. Just because he had won a match didn’t mean anything it would take time and more than just one or two wins. He would need to prove himself all over again. Prove that he was more than just a punch line and a joke. He also knew that Jenny was right about this being a tough match, all of them had something to prove. They all thought that they could be the future of the IWF.Each of them however had a different path they had decided to take. John knew that each of them had strengths and weaknesses, he also knew that finding out what mans was, was the key to winning the match.

John had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed his oldest daughter Marisa walking up.

“DAD?!” she said finally getting his attention

John looked up “Hmm?”

“It’s your turn dad” she said

John nodded putting his beer down and going to pick up his ball

“Dad, are you all right?”

“Yeah I’m fine” he said trying to reassure her

“You just seem a little distracted that all”

John smiled and shrugged “Just thinking about my match this Sunday that all”

“Was this a good idea?” She asked him “I mean do you..”

John put a reassuring hand on her shoulder “I’ll be fine, this was good for me. I’ve been wound to tight I needed something to Unwind”

Marisa smiled “I’m glad you had fun dad. We should do this more often”

John smiled back “Yes we should”

ON CAMERA:

Logan airport as John Tolly has just arrived he notices Javier Sanchez coming towards him

Javier:John John! Could I get a word with you.

John:Sure Javier. I’m guessing you want to get my thought s on Rising Monarchy

Javier: Yes indeed. Now first of all congratulation on your victory last week, do you think you can continue that through this week?

John: Well thanks and I sure hope I can, but one win does not a winning streak make.

Javier: So do you have any thoughts on your opponents?

John: oh yeah! Fatal four way one of the most unpredictable types of matches there is, anything can happen and anyone could win. I however plan on being that someone. Damien Drake a monster if I ever met one in my life a 6’6” living breathing monster! And the only real person that seriously poses a threat, but that’s the thing about you isn’t it? You’ve always been content to just stand in the back ground; you were always just the other member of HFF more than willing to stand in the back ground while Ace and Axel took the lime light. Now, Now you have a chance to break out on your own and to be your own man and yet I see you still in Ace and Axel’s shadow still not quiet able to cement your legacy in this business as nothing more than there muscle, you want to prove that you more than that, this is your chance, but FYI Drake you are going to have to wait a bit longer cause this week is MY time.

Next is the man who defeated me a couple weeks ago Jacob Figgins. You were right Figgy my loss against you was my wakeup call it was the slap in the face I needed to get me back on tract, as for your supposition that I’m not yet fully awake yet I assure you I am wide awake and my eyes and wide open and what I see is the Uprising title in my future. It’s nothing personal Figgy but I’m not going to let anyone stand in my way.

Which leads me to the one man in this match that I have absolutely NO respect for, Desmond Young. Where do I start with you Desmond? You want to brush past me like I’m non-factor? Treat me like a rookie? I assure you Desmond I have forgotten more about this business than you will ever know! All your arrogance will get you is disappointment and loss? I’ve seen people like you come and go. You think just because you have some kind of back ground amateur wrestling that you should automatically be given the world when you turn pro, well news flash Desmond in this business you earn everything and what you’ve earned from me is a Champaign dream ddt! You say people can like the A.S.S or kiss it? Well I have a better Idea. What if I just kick it! I’ll see you Guys latter tonight, bring your best..you’re going to need it!

Scene fades to black

» Damien Drake w/ Ace Static [vs.] Desmond Young
» Jacob Figgins [vs] Damien Drake
» Damien Drake [vs.] Jacob Figgins
» Jacob Figgins [vs.] John Tolly
» "The A.S.S." Desmond Young