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 Chuck Matthews [vs] Sean Libby

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Alex Dillinger


Posts : 465
Join date : 2012-12-06
Age : 32
Location : Los Angeles, CA

PostSubject: Chuck Matthews [vs] Sean Libby   Thu Aug 22, 2013 7:06 am

Chuck Matthews
Sean Libby



AD's Theme-Diamond/Against Them All by Stick To Your Guns
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Sean Libby


Posts : 244
Join date : 2011-03-08
Age : 25
Location : Framingham

Wrestler Stats
IWF Record: 3-4-0
Alignment: In Between

PostSubject: Re: Chuck Matthews [vs] Sean Libby   Sun Aug 25, 2013 10:31 pm

-Eyes begin flittering from someone’s point of view but after a few seconds they slowly open up the images at first blurred but soon become clear as sunlight comes in almost blinding the person-

-Moving away from the point of view the camera moves around a bandaged up man who is looking around for someone-

???: Hel-

-The man could not complete the word as he begins coughing and starts gasping for air-

???: Hel- Help…

-A doctor opens the door in the room and looks at the bandaged person-

Doctor: Oh, you’re awake.

-The doctor walks to the man-

Doctor: I’m Doctor Jim, I’ve been responsible for watching over you as you recovered from your horrendous fall Mr. Libby. How are you feeling?

-The bandaged man now reveled as Sean Libby looks around and starts moving his head-

Sean Libby: Like I… Died

-The doctor looks at a clipboard-

Doctor: Well Mr. Libby you’ve been in a coma for about a month and a half, but trust me sir, you’re alive and….Well.

-Sean’s eyes look sadly as blood comes out of his mouth-

-The doctor grabs a paper towel and wipes Sean’s mouth clean of the blood-

Doctor: It would appear that your throat hasn’t fully healed yet.

Sean Libby: What ha- hap- hap

Doctor: Happened?

-Sean slowly nods as he quietly says “Yes.”-

Doctor: Well sir, during your match with Tim Patrick a few months back, he used your signature maneuver to kick you off the top of the Pyramid structure because you both went up there, and when he kicked you off, he missed your face and hit your neck. Thus causing your voice box to be damaged and throat to bleed radically.

-Sean stares at the wall as if he’s staring in space-

Doctor: Mr. Libby?

Sean Libby: Tim, you traitors bastard.... You were my best friend and you…

Doctor: Sean!

-Sean shakes his head and looks at the doctor than begins screaming in pain-

Sean Libby: AHHHHHHH!

-Sean tries to hold his neck and try to gather air by gasping-

-The doctor puts a oxygen mask over Sean’s mouth and nose to gather air-

Doctor: I’m sorry; I should’ve told you that speaking will be rather difficult for a while for you sir.

Sean Libby: Wh-Why?

Doctor: Because your voice has not yet fully recovered from the kick and even with our surgery which was successful for the most part, we cannot replace your voice box without your permission; and if you choose not to, the process for recovery will indeed be painful.

-Sean looks down at his right hand acting to make sure it still works-

Sean Libby: No…. I have been threw worse…

-The doctor regretfully nods-

Doctor: Alright sir.

-Sean wiggles his arms-

Doctor: You want to know when you can have those removed don’t you.

Sean Libby: Yeah please.

Doctor: We’ll have them removed in a hour sir. Just hang tight.

-The doctor makes way to the door and opens it and looks at Sean-

Sean Libby: Thanks…

-The doctor leaves the room as Sean looks up at the ceiling and sighs heavily-

-Sean begins speaking in his thoughts-

Sean Libby *mind*: How could this happen to me? Why am I made to suffer? How does one do super kicks and miss his target? I really don’t know why. I have been in a coma for months and I never once felt an inch of pain.

-Sean turns and notices get well cards and pictures with family and friends-

Sean Libby *mind*: The last thing I remember was being pulled into an ambulance saying: “I’ll be back…” Catchy from ol Arnold but… Look at yourself. How can you wrestle like this?

-Sean notices a rose in a vase with a note on it-

-Sean manages to reach the note and begins reading it-

Sean Libby *mind*: “To my sweet Sean. I am gratefully saddened with your accident and it’s hard to see you like this. I am happy to say I am okay from the bombing, and the thought of you kept me alive, but from what has happened to you, I cannot help. I know you’ll pull threw babe, you always have before. You will always be in my heart, and I will always love you. Love, Serai.”

-A tear comes through Sean’s face-

Sean Libby: Oh Serai…

-Sean crumbles the paper and begins sobbing-

-After a few minutes pass doctors come in the room with cutters-

-The doctors cut Sean’s casts on his arms and hands and begin unraveling Sean’s facial bandages-

-Underneath the bandages reveals a face with facial hair that is starting to grow with very rugged hair-

Sean Libby: How… *em* How do I look?

-One doctor uses hand signs about Sean’s hair as one says that it would be better to shave his head-

Sean Libby: That… Bad huh?

-They both nod as Sean sighs-

-After some time Sean gets dressed in his ripped up wrestling tights and an old Sean Libby IWF t-shirt-

-Sean grabs the notes and gifts that were left for him and walks to the receptionist-

Receptionist: Have a nice day sir.

-Sean notices the young lady and he nods-

Sean Libby: Thank- grrr Thank you.

-Sean starts bleeding blood from his mouth as he grabs a napkin to clean it-

Receptionist: Um… Would you like me to contact your insurance provider sir?

Sean Libby: Please, do so.

Receptionist: Okay and what is your name sir?

Sean Libby: Sean, that’s S, E no H.

Receptionist: Okay, Sean… Your last name?

Sean Libby: Libby. L, I, double B, and Y.

Receptionist: Okay Mr. Libby, I’ll see what I can do for you and you have a nice day.

-Sean nods to the lady and walks out of the hospital-


-Sean searches for a ATM machine and manages to find one-

-He checks his balance and to much of his surprise his balance stands at $500

Sean Libby: What… Surely I should have more.

-Sean begins tapping his pockets-

Sean Libby: Phone… I need a phone. Phone, phone, phone, phoney, phone.

-Sean notices a pay phone-

Sean Libby: Pay phone? *sigh* what do I have to lose?

-Sean goes to the phone and dials a number and waits till someone answers-

???: This is the Insurgency Wrestling Federation, how can I help you?

Sean Libby: I’d like to speak with Corey Casey please.

???: What? Corey Casey? Casey hasn’t worked for us for months.

-Sean’s face grows pale-

???: I can patch you to Alex D-

-Sean hangs the phone up before the person on the phone could finish-

-Sean begins walking around before raising his hand in the air to flag down a cab and gets in it-

-Sean passes out in the back of the cab thinking to himself-

Sean Libby *mind*: That’s it… My life, my career, my job… All gone in just a matter of months. Nobody but Corey would keep me with them. I am worthless. I tried gaining a reputation in IWF, but the only thing I’ve ever done was be one of their first wrestlers. Now, that Corey’s gone, there’s nothing left.

Cabbie: hey… Hey!

-Sean wakes up shaking his head-

Sean Libby: Huh? Wha?

Cabbie: We here dawg. It’ll be $18.50.

-Sean looks at the window and notices his home-

-Sean reaches in his pocket and grabs his wallet and grabs a $20 dollar bill and hands it to the cab driver-

Sean Libby: Keep, change. Gr

-Sean grabs his neck-

Cabbie: You alright man?

Sean Libby: Yeah I’ll be alright…

-Sean walks to the doorway of his apartment building-

-Sean tries to put a key in the door to his apartment but notices the key will not go in the door-

Sean Libby: What? What is this shit?

-Sean keeps trying to get the door open-

Sean Libby: No, no, no, no, no!

-The door suddenly opens as a rugged old man with a wife-beater opens the door-

???: What do you want?

-Sean looks at the man oddly-

Sean Libby: Who… Are you?

???: I’m Frank, who are you?

Sean Libby: The person…. Who owns this place.

Frank: What you the new landlord or something?

Sean Libby: No, I live in the place your standing in.

Frank: I don’t know what you’re talking about buddy. All I know is the last guy who lived here was kicked out because he stopped paying rent. The landlord said, he never missed a day before till two months ago. Then I came in.

-Sean stands still looking at Frank in a stare that makes him look like he’s seen a ghost-

Frank: I’m sure you can find your way out, it’s just opposite the way you came in.

-Frank slams the door and Sean continues standing there now with tears coming on his face-

Sean Libby: No…

-Sean goes outside and sits on the sidewalk sobbing-

-After a while of gathering his thoughts Sean stands up wiping his face-

Sean Libby: There is… Only one thing I can do now…

-Sean checks his wallet and looks at his money-

Sean Libby: The only thing a man can do, is drown his sorrows away.

-Sean begins walking-

Sean Libby: That’s what’s going to become of me now.

-Sean enters O’Connels pub and restaurant and goes to the pub area and begins drinking-

Sean Libby: Pattie, fill me up.

-The bartender Pattie gives Sean a glass of beer and Sean grabs the glass and begins guzzling it down-

-Sean raises his glass each time he’s finished and Pat keeps filling it-


-After some time a man in a long white coat sits next to Sean-

???: Hello sir, give me some wine please.

Sean Libby: Pfft.

-The man turns to Sean raising an eyebrow-

Sean Libby: “Wine please”? What do you think this place is a French bar?  We aren’t polite people, hey Pat! More beer lad!

-Sean hands his glass out and Pat fills it up once more-

???: Are you mocking me kind sir?

-Sean sips his drink holding his hand up-

Sean Libby: First off…. The kind part of me? He died a few hours ago. Being “kind” and “gentle” is just being a puss.

-Sean spins his glass-

Sean Libby: I realize that being nice to others, gives you no salvation, just fog and white lies that not the mind can see.

-The man grows a devilish smile-

???: I see, I can tell that you’ve been threw it rough. I uh, never caught your name?

Sean Libby: Sean Libby. What’s yours?

???:  John. John P. Stein

-Sean chuckles-

John: Please, don’t make fun of my name…

-Sean scoffs-

Sean Libby: Whatever you say professor.

John: Close.

Sean Libby: What?

John: I’m not a professor, but I am a doctor.

Sean Libby: Oh really? Shame it wasn’t you who gave me surgery. You could’ve, I don’t know, maybe made me, harder? Bigger? Faster and maybe stronger?

-John grabs his glass of wine that was sitting for a while and begins drinking it and putting it down. He then turns to Sean with a keen interest etched in his face-

John: I see, well what is your profession Sean?

Sean Libby: I’m a wrestler… Or I was.

John: Was?

Sean Libby: My old employer stepped down, and now I’m a free agent, no home, no job! Just the money I have *drinks and gulps* in my pocket.

John: What did you do out there in your wrestling adventures?

-Sean begins wobbling-

Sean Libby: I fought with and against all those sons of bitches. I kicked all their asses and I cut my loses. All but one mother fucker. One asshole, evaded me forever.

John: Oh really? Who?

Sean Libby: Matthews! Chuck fucking Matthews! Pat! Fill me again.

-John reaches in his pocket for something-

John: Well, maybe we could get you to face him?

Sean Libby: Yeah, HA no.

-John drops a pill in Sean’s drink right before Sean begins drinking it-

Sean Libby: Matthews retired himself out of wrestling. It’ll take an act of God to get him to come out…

-Sean begins shaking his head and begins moving side to side-

Sean Libby: Whoa… I’m getting… Dizzy.

-Sean then droops over the bar-

-Pat looks at Sean then back at John-

-John puts a $50 dollar bill on the table-

John: That’s for both of us.

-John grabs Sean’s arm and carries him-

John: Let’s see if we can make your dream a reality my friend.

-John gets into a car that was in an alleyway and puts Sean in the back seat, closing the door as he makes his way to the other side-

-When John closes the backdoor the camera cuts to black-

*Some time later…….*

-Eyes flicker like they did in the beginning when they opened this time in a panicked state-

-The eyes look around and see much medical equipment around him and notices his neck is exposed, literally cut open-

???: Oh, you’re awake.

-The camera backs out and see’s Sean Libby down to his boxers in cloths scared-

-The person who was just speaking was the man Sean just met, named John looking at him-

John: I see you noticed your neck. Don’t fear, I have your voice box protected, you may speak.

Sean Libby: You…. You’re that guy I met at the pub. John, isn’t it?

-John walks around with a evil smile on his face-

John: No Sean, John is not my name. It was simply a ploy to help gain your trust, and as we can see, it worked.

Sean Libby: Who are you mad man? Why have you done this to me?

???: I’m doing this to help you. Trust me, I’m a doctor remember?

Sean Libby: How can I believe you? You could’ve just told me white lies in order to get me.

???: Maybe. But if you want to accomplish something in your could’ve been drunken life then I could’ve left you to rot!

-The man walks around Sean touching his arms-

???: Oh but plastic surgery is such a masterful work… If you want a name from me, you will name me, doctor Promestein. Do you understand?

-Sean breathes heavily not taking his eyes off of the man calling himself Promestien-

Promestein: No matter. You’ll soon obey, and I will get what I want out of you, and you will get what you want. That way, we both win.

-Sean looks around for something to help him but finds nothing, Promestein looms closer, his gaze just inches from Sean’s-

Promestein: I will do more than just fix you my friend.

Sean Libby: He- He- Help!

-Promestein puts gloves on his hands-

Promestein: It’s time to practice medicine

Sean Libby: HELP!!!

-Promestein walks forward to Sean before cutting to black-

-The camera turns back on in a room in front of a now bald Sean Libby who still has his growing facial hair with his eyes closed breathing heavily-

-Promestein’s voice can be heard not too far talking to something or someone on the cellphone-

Promestein: Yes I understand, yes I’m sure he will be happy to hear this. Thank you Alex,  have a nice day.

-Promestein puts a phone down after hanging up and begins walking to Sean-

Promestein: We’ll, I got us in, we leave tonight. I will pack our belongings and our backups.

-Promestein puts his sleeves up to his elbows and walks past Sean-

-Sean’s eyes open-

Sean Libby: Doctor…

-Promestein turns to Sean-

Sean Libby: Don’t forget… The target…….. Matthews.

Promestein: Ah yes, Chuck Matthews, I have tried finding ways to get him to come back for one thing so you can get him. No avail so far.

Sean Libby: I know how.

-Promestein enlightened, walks over to Sean-

Promestein: Well speak up my creation.

Sean Libby: Chuck will crawl back when he see’s his family hurt. Or the people who he considers family. We must seize it as our opportunity to strike.

-The doctor muses this as he smiles-

Promestein: Cleaver my friend, We will test his will. We will force guilt upon him and if he doesn’t help them from you it’s all the more strain on him. You want to fight him. Well, I believe you have just won the war before it even began my friend.

-Promestein begins pacing around Sean-

Promestein: I want you to destroy his friends, piece by piece. Not one square inch missed. I will be your voice, don’t worry about saying anything. When he comes out, don’t touch him. You probably already destroyed his mindset and he can’t handle your force. You will fight him at From the Ashes. I want you to destroy him. Destroy his streak, and I want you to make him believe that you are the most powerful thing that on God’s Green EARTH!!

-Promestein has a wicked smile and Sean stands there looking at him calmly-

Sean Libby: Yes Doctor.

Promestein: Then come my friend!

-Promestein begins walking up a set of stairs-

Promestein: The destruction of Matthews awaits us.

-Sean follows Promestein as they both leave the room going into a shroud of darkness as a wicked laugh can be heard as Promestein closes the doors-


-After getting off a bus that came from Boston to Cleveland Sean Libby and Promestein walk towards a stadium-

-Sean looks at his hands and flexes them to test himself-

Promestein: Be careful with those my friend.

-Sean turns to Promestein-

Promestein: Don’t want you to kill anybody, just annihilate them. We have not tested your strength yet.

-Promestein gets bumped into by someone-

???: Yo bro, watch it will ya?

-The man who bumped into Promstein was Chad Mason-

-Promestein wipes his clean coat that was a bit wrinkly from the push-

Promestein: I am not I bro, you fool. I am a doctor.

Chad Mason: Yeah? Whatever man, just don’t stand in a place for too long huh?

-Chad begins to turn away but notices Sean-

Chad Mason: Hey… You look familiar. Didn’t we use to work with each other like two years ago?

Sean Libby: I don’t know you.

Chad Mason: Well man, its been a long time and whatever and its me Chad. Chad Mason.

-Sean shakes his head-

Sean Libby: No. I don’t know who you are.

-Chad shrugs-

Chad Mason: Alright man, take it easy you guys…

-Chad walks to the stadium-

-Promestein grows a evil smile across his face-

Promestein: Ah… Yes. Mason. Sean! I believe we have found our test subject.

-Sean turns to Promestein and raises a eyebrow-

Promestein: You may not remember this, but Chad was Chuck’s protégé once upon a time. He took him under his wing and Chad became a world champion. If there were to be a way to make Chuck come out of hiding… Mason would probably be the start. Come. We must get him.

Sean Libby: What are we going to do doctor?

-Promestein begins to walk-

Promestein: To test your strength.

-Sean begins to follow Promestein as they both follow Chad-

Promestein: We are going to make a example out of him Sean.

-Promestein pulls up his briefcase and pulls out a body bag-

Promestein: You are going to destroy his body, I will put him in this and we will show the world and Matthews, what you are made of.

-Sean begins picking up speed and makes it past Promestein-

Promestein: Go. Destroy him.

-Sean gathers air and charges after Chad-

-Chad hears something from behind him to which he turns around seeing Sean charging at him-

Chad Mason: Hey bro whats up-

-Sean picks up Chad and slams him into the wall-

-Sean then kick’s Chad’s gut repeatedly with his knees-

-On the tenth consecutive kick Chad’s body flies over to Promestein’s feet who just stopped walking-

Promestein: Continue Sean.

-Chad grabs Promestein’s leg hoping to use it as leverage till Sean grabbed his head and dragged him away then started punching Chad’s face-

-Chad begins struggling  as Sean continues to land punches on him-

-Promestein walks over and lifts his leg in the air and kick’s Chad’ elbow with his heel-

Chad Mason: AHHHHHHHH!!!!!

-Sean raises a fist then lands the punch in the center of Chad’s head knocking him out-

-Promestein hands Sean the body bag and Sean takes it, and begins putting Chad inside the bag-

Promestein: Well. It is clear that you have no match. Your strength is immeasurable.

-Sean ties the bag up and looks at Promestein-

Sean Libby: What shall we do with him doctor?

Promestein: We take him… And we show what you are capable of.

-Fireworks can be heard inside the building-

Promestein: Come, the show is starting. Let us show the world, the new Sean Libby, and Chuck Matthews, what we will do to get him to fight us. Take the body. Let us go.

-Sean picks up Chad’s almost lifeless body effortlessly and follows Promesttein into the stadium were Battlegrounds is held.

-Sean walks slowly to the ring before grabbing the smaller man by the shoulders, rolling him into the ring. He snatches a microphone from the ring announcer, then climbs up over the top rope, into the ring. He hands the microphone to Promestein as he peers over the crowd. The arena is stunned, not knowing what to make of Libby or the stranger to them standing beside him-

Promestein: Hello there to you, I trust you all missed my friend Sean Libby?

-There are a few scattered boos, but mostly silence-

Promestein: For those of you who wonder who I am, well you can call me Promestein and if you haven't already guessed I'm a doctor, now I'm sure many of you noticed a slight........change in my friend here. Sean would you kindly explain to these fine people as to the nature of your condition?

-The much larger man nodded as he takes the mic and speaks, his voice low and somewhat metallic-

Sean Libby: A few months back, I had a match against a certain Tim Patrick....he broke my jaw. He almost killed my career...but I fought back. I had surgeries, I worked my ass off, I did everything in my power to get back to peak physical form...and I did just that, with some help from my doctor here.

-Sean smirks, listening as more and more people pick up on the boos. The man calling himself Promestein smiles as he receives the mic back-

Promestein: And on the subject of Tim Patrick, already his life before him is falling apart as his love ones die off one by one while my friend here stands before you, in better shape than he's ever been before!

-Sean looks around and flexes his muscles as Promestein smiles while the crowd just lets him have it with jeers and boos-

Promestein: The next big From the Ashes. Sean here has returned to once again, intend to light up the biggest stage of them all. You've seen what he's done in the past, imagine what he can do as he is now! What you see before you is not a failure...BUT A WORLD CHAMPION!! One of the greatest competitors in IWF to have never held the IWF Championship! While I would love to see him curb-stomp Gordon Fury and watch him take that belt my friend here has other more important fish to fry.

-He steps around where the man with the bag over his head is and gazes at the crowd before him-

Promestein: While Sean could wipe the floor with the IWF Champion, and believe me, when the time comes, he will do just that. But at FTA, I believe that a match that people will remember is a match that will make the biggest impact and send a clear message to the people in the locker room who have all this time doubted the heart and will of this poor man before you who now can crush men's skulls without hardly any effort. I want the people to watch, to write it in the history books, to point to and say "THAT is what Sean Libby is capable of!" And to do that...the IWF Championship simply won't do. No... we need something bigger, something greater. I want him to prove that when the lights shine brightest, that's when he's at his best! As you all may recall his match at the first From the Ashes is The Pyramid. Last year, Tim Patrick and him went to hell and back in a show-stopping street fight. This year...I want Sean to prove himself as a man and a warrior. This year, I intend to prove to the world exactly what he's capable of!

-He chuckles a bit then grows a huge evil grin-

Promestein: For this we don't want a champion. We want a king. We want a man who, like Sean, has proven over and over that he's best when the spotlight is on him. This is bigger than the IWF, this is across several companies, several years.

-His grin spreads even wider-

Promestein: This year Sean is going to end the "legendary" streak of Chuck Matthews.

-The crowd grow in mixed reaction from the speak-

-Then "World to Burn" erupts through the speakers. The crowd gets to its feet, cheering wildly, in disbelief at what they're hearing. The music plays, but nobody walks out. Both Sean and Promestein laugh as they finally signal to cut the music-

Promestein: Got your hopes up too quickly didn't we? How unfortunate, regardless I thought that might happen. We all knew that Chuck wouldn't come out and fight...and honestly, it wouldn't surprise me to see him at home, cowering in fear at the thought of putting that streak of his on the line against Sean. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I've brought myself a little bit of collateral.

-He snaps his fingers and Sean rips the sack off the man's head, revealing a heavily bruised Chad Mason-

Promestein: Look familiar? Your old protégé, Chuck. This is the man you trained, the man that you hand-picked to represent you and what you could teach. A two-time world champion, certainly turned this young man's career around, Chuck. You really showed people what you could do through Mason.

-Sean kicks Chad to the gut, flipping him onto his back. Promestein however remains unmoved by this and continues talking-

Promestein: And look at him now, a mere shell of his former self like you. An afterthought much like you.....yes you share more similarities than one would care to admit. Tell me is this what you want Chuck? I know somewhere you're watching this. I know you're hearing this in front of your own t.v set. Well here's something to make sure that the point remains clear to you.

-He gives a signal and Sean lifts Chad onto his shoulders then throws him off, spinning him around and crushing him face-first into the mat. Chad lies motionless in the ring while Sean smirks at his handiwork-

Promestein Let this be a warning to you: For every week that you don't accept the challenge, expect more of this. Sean will destroy everything you love, every person attached to you. He will tear apart your friends...your family...your entire world. Take note.

-The medic’s rushed it trying to brush off Sean and Promestein as they tend to Chad-

-Both men leave the ring and exit to the backstage area-

Promestein: Very well done my creation. You really did show off what you can do tonight. I am very pleased.

Sean Libby: Thank you doctor.

Promestein: By next week he will be here. I want you to be ready. I will… Find a way to prep you for your fight with him. A robot would be too easy, and Chad is in no means of kidnapping. I will find you something my friend, but let us go home.

-Sean and Promestein walk out of the stadium and catch the bus that brought them there-


-A door opens up in the dark laboratory that Sean and Promestein left-

Promestein: Seeing as you have no place to stay, I have taken the liberty to have you a bed made for you to stay.

-Promestein shows Sean the bed that appears to be torn up and ripped-

Promestein: Now I want you to keep your new muscles active, so destroy anything you want, but the lab! I need it intact.

-Promestein begins leaving-

Promestein: I will see you when I need you.

-Promestein leaves the room and slams the door behind him-

-Sean looks around probably looking for things to break-

-Sean grabs a brick off the floor and starts head butting it-

-Leaning his head back he then smacks his head on the brick causing it to break and bleed only a little-

-Sean looks around then takes his neck mask exposing a little hole in his neck-

Sean Libby:… I am not a machine, I am a human. I m twice the man I used to be. I am indeed grateful for what the doctor has done. Now people will indeed take me ser- ser…

-Sean begins coughing and spits out blood-

Sean Libby: Damnit…GOD DAMNIT!

-A shot of Promestein in another room who appears to be writing something-

-He appears to have heard Sean and grows a wicked smile-

Promestein: Ah… Anger. Its so sweet when you have a angry tank.

-Back to Sean, with him throwing a brick at a wall and when it lands it poofs into air-

-Sean then calms down and breaths calmly then walks over to the bed-

Sean Libby: Pain… My body knows nothing more. It has lived threw it, and it is made for it.

-Sean clichés a fist and looks at it-

Sean Libby: I will make Chuck Matthews pay for what he did to me. I don’t quite recall what he did but… The doctor speaks the truth. I will destroy him on the doctor’s word.

-Sean lays back and falls asleep-


-A week past since Sean had seen the Dr. Promestein-

-He received food and drink that were left on the top of the stairs by the doctor to keep Sean fed and healthy-

-During a night of Sean training himself the good doctor came down to see him-

Promestein: Ah Sean. You look rather well now. I am pleased to see that you’re in tip top shape.

-Sean focuses on the wall not paying attention to Promestein-

-Promestein snaps his fingers and Sean suddenly stops and stands still upright-

-Promestein walks over to Sean looking at him and moving his neck in search for something-

Prommestein: Very good. No sign of any fatigue. Perfect for what we are going to be doing tonight.

Sean Libby: What are we going to do tonight doctor?

Promestein: We are going to send yet another message to Chuck Matthews. Seeing as he did not send me any indication that he will fight you, nor did he ever see his protégé, Chad at the hospital, just goes to prove we need to hurt him more.

-Promestein reaches into a duffel bag and pulls out a picture of Johnny Eastwick-

Promestein: Sean, do you know who this is?

-Sean looks at the picture-

Sean Libby: No doctor.

Promestein: This is Johnny Eastwick. The man Chuck claims he is his best friend. It could be that Chad wasn’t a friend to Charles, but this man is. So, what you’re going to do, is destroy this man. If with any luck Chuck will already be there with him. So we can kill two birds with one stone.

Sean Libby: What if he is not there?

Promestein:… Then make him regret not coming to save his friend. Let us move. We have a long ride ahead of us.

-Promestein goes back up the stairs and Sean follows him-

-The two enter the car that Sean was put in when he was drugged-

-Sean looks at the car and sits in the backsteat-

-Promestein drives the car as he and Sean go off to Pittsburgh-

Sean Libby: … Doctor.

Promestein: Yes my friend?

Sean Libby: Aren’t we going to be late? The show doesn’t start until at least another hour.

Promestein: Wonderful. Its going to take us a half hour to get there, and when we do, you’ll have a half hour to play with Eastwick.

-Sean nods and looks at the window of rain pouring outside-

-After a half hour of driving the two men arrive at the arena-

-Promestein parks his car in the back lot and parks it in the shadows-

Promestein: We must find him before the show, we maybe able to find Chuck. Come Sean.

-Sean exits the car and follows Promestein into the arena-

-The two men enter the arena and stay in the shadows-

Promestein: Sean; stay here, keep out of sight. I’ll try to find them, and lure them here. If I only find Eastwick, torture him as we try to find Charlie. Alright?

-Sean nods as Promestein turns around and sees Johnny Electric walk past them oblivious to their presence-

-Promestein follows Johnny-

Promestein: Alright… Oi man I need a word with ya!

-Johnny turns around-

Johnny Eastwick: Hey man whats going on?

Promestein: Name’s Jimi I need a talk with ya man, I need to show ya something.

Johnny Eastwick: Alright. Show me.

Promestein: Over here.

-Promestein leads Johnny into the area where Sean is hiding-

Johnny Eastwick: Kay man, what is this.

Promestein: Its this new kind of snapping of the fingers. Have you heard?

-Promestein snaps his fingers and Sean roars and charges at full speed at Johnny-

Johnny Eastwick: HOLY SHIT!

-Sean spears Johnny into the wall causing a crack on a tile-

-Sean then tosses Johnny into the other side of the wall as Promstein watches-

-Sean then puts Johnny on the floor face first with Sean’s hand on the back of Johnny’s head rubbing Johnny’s face on the floor-

-Promestein kneels down-

Promestein: Where is Chuck?

Johnny Eastwick: Chuck who?!

-Sean rubs Johnny’s face on the ground with him screaming in pain-

Promestein: Don’t play games with me Electric. Matthews, Chuck Matthews. He’s your supposed best friend. Where is he?

Johnny Eastwick: I don’t know! I haven’t spoken to him since he left the company a few months ago!

-Sean gets off his head but kicks him over like he’s playing with him-

-Sean puts his foot on Johnny’s chest in force digging into him-

Promestein: Well wouldn’t you have seen him at the hospital with Chad Mason?

Johnny Eastwick: No, he never showed, and I can tell you he wouldn’t come to see me either. I tell ya I don’t know anything!

Promestein:… Pick him up.

-Sean lifts Johnny up and over his shoulders-

-He holds his neck and makes Johnny look at Promestein-

Promestein: Last chance Johnny.  Where. Is. Matthews?

-Sean looks at Promestein-

-Promestein nod’s to Sean-

-Sean flips Johnny over and forcefully crushes Johnny’s back into his knee-

-Johnny screams in pain as he is flipped over onto his bloody face and left to lie there-

Promestein: I don’t believe it. Chuck will show. Somebody will find him, and we will get the information out of them.

-Promestein walks into the shadows-

Sean Libby: Yes doctor.

-Sean goes into the shadows as well and waits-

-Medical crew gathered around the bloodied body of Johnny Electric. The camera zooms in to show the face of Johnny Electric. His face is busted wide open, blood gushing down his face. He's slipping in and out of consciousness. The medical staff tries to load him onto a gurney. Suddenly, there's laughter heard around the hallway-

Promestein: We warned you, Mr. Matthews. John Eastwick. This is the man you long called your best friend. This is the man that has stood by you for your entire career. This is the man that has seen your every achievement. Where were you?

-Sean Libby roars onto the scene, booting a medic in the face. He lifts Johnny to his feet, and throws him into the wall near the large metal crates nearby. John tries to get to his feet, but Libby charges, slamming his boot to the side of Johnny's head, crushing it into the wall-

Promestein: Your friend, Chuck? Your protege meant nothing to you, are you saying your friend means the same?

-Libby lifts Johnny to his shoulders, moving towards the catering table. Promestein's voice is a roar, screaming to the empty hallways-


-Promestein gets dangerously close to the camera-

Promestein: I know you're seeing this, Charlie. I know you're watching as Sean destroys everything you hold dear...what will it take, Charlie? What's it going to be? Who do we have to maim to get you to show your face?

-He smirks-

Promestein: You're afraid. As well you should be. You don't want to put your legendary streak on the line against Sean, because you know that the moment you do, it will be the end of your streak. The end of your IWF career...maybe, if we're lucky, the end of your life. You can't beat Sean. You're past your prime. You're worn out, weak...scared.

-He nods to Sean. Sean shoves Johnny off his shoulders, smashing him through the table, sending food flying-

Promestein: Two down, Chuck. We've taken your students...your many more do we need to hurt? How many bodies will Sean leave in his wake?

-His smirk vanishes, leaving a sinister glare-

Promestein: Next week, we take your family.

-Promestein walks away and Sean follows leaving all the trash and broken bodies left in the hallway-

Promestein: I am deeply saddened… WHERE IS HE?!

-Promestein kicks his car-


-Promestein then suddenly calms down-

Promestein:… Its okay….It’ll be okay. We will destroy Chris Matthews as his family. What do you think?

-Promestein looks around and looks for Sean-

Promestein: Sean…?

-Promestein notices Sean standing and looking at a poster-

-Promestein marches his way to Sean-

Promestein: Damnit, listen to me when I’m talking!

Sean Libby: Doctor…

Promestein: WHAT?!

-Sean lifts his hand and points to the poster of Corey Casey’s induction into the Hall of Fame-

-The poster also says “Featuring Ryan Apollos, Jason Hawk, James Shark, Stygain and Jessica Matthews and Much MUCH MORE! card subject to change”-

Promestein: Amazing… I made a genius and a monster.

Sean Libby: What shall we do doctor?

Promestein: Well, seeing as they are stating in Philadelphia, we’ll stay a week in a hotel.

-Promestein walks back to his car with Sean and they both drive off into the night-


-Promestein’s car is parked in a parking spot-

-Sean stands around looking at the lamps as Promestein talks to the manager of the hotel-

Promestein: Listen buddy all I’m asking is, one week, no room service, no food no crap like that for me and my friend here.

Manager: I see, and would you like a few special tool’s for you and your friend?

Promestein: Yes- wait I mean, whaaa?

Manager: New found couples come here all the time hon. We have many special tools and toys for them to use for their time here.

-The manager steps aside and Promestein looks at the room full of those “toys”-

Promestein: … Wow.

Manager: So would you like to use some tools? Its another $10 dollar’s per tool.

Promestein: … No thanks I’ll just take the key please.

-The manager sighs and gives Promestein the key to the room-

Promestein: Sean, lets go.

-Sean and Promestein walk up the stairs-

Manager: Please have fun and enjoy your stay.

-Promestein looks back at the manager with a questionable look as Sean continues up the stairs-

-Promestein follows Sean and finds the room-

-Promestein opens the door with the key as both men enter-

-Sean walks over to the window and looks out the window-

-Promestein lays on the bed and looks at the ceiling-

Sean Libby: What do we do now doctor?

Promestein: We rest. For a week.

-Sean regretfully nods and takes off his mask and sits in the chair looking down closing his eyes-

-The next morning knocking is heard on the door-

???: House keeping.

-The knocking continues as Promestein covers his head with a pillow to try to block the noise-

???: House keeping!

-The knocking continues-

-Promestein throws his pillow across the room-

Promestein: Sean! Wake up and see who that is!

-Sean’s eyes suddenly open as he marches to the knocking door-

???: House keeping!

-Sean opens the door and grabs the young man in a red suit by the neck and drags him into the room-

-Sean raises his fist in the air as the man squeals like a girl-

Promestein: NO SEAN! Don’t hurt him!

-Promestein gets out of the bed and walks over to the man-

Promestein: We don’t need service. This place is clean enough. Please go.

-Sean releases the young man as he runs out of the room grabbing his trey-

Promestein: Man… What a hell of a way to wake up in the day…

-Promestein puts a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door knob and goes back to bed-

Sean Libby: Doctor, what are we doing?

Promestein: We are gathering our strength my friend. I want to be perfectly ready for our destruction of Mrs. Casey.

Sean Libby: I thought she was just Ms. Matthews…

-Promestein speaks under his breath-

Promestein: shit… He doesn’t remember she married him.

-Promestein sits up and looks at Sean-

Promestein: Well, I believe its… Soon to be Mrs. Casey Sean. Its why she was on that poster. They are planning to be married.

-Sean nods and goes back on the chair and falls back to sleep-

Promestein: That was close… I forgot I altered that part of his mind. I can’t let him know anything. Just keep him in the dark till we destroy Chuck.

-Promestein lays back down and sleeps-


-After sleeping for five days Sean and Promestein leave the hotel and begin driving to the new arena where BattleGround will be-

-After arriving there they notice the crew have finished with their work and are beginning to pack up and call it a day-

-Promestein and Sean enter the arena from the back area once again and notice there’s not a soul to be found-

Sean Libby: What do we do doctor?

-Promestein looks around-

Promestein: We hide. We must hide so they don’t notice us or see us coming.

-Promestein opens a door and grows a wicked smile-

Promestein: Perfect!

-Promestein enters the room which so happens to be the boiler room-

-Sean enters the room as Promestein looks at another door in the room and walks to it-

Promestein: Where do you lead…?

-Promestein opens the door and see’s the entire arena from the boiler room-

-He then imminently shuts the door with a face both shocked and wicked-

Promestein: Oh my god, oh my god… This is too perfect…!

-Promestein turns to Sean who looks discouraged-

Promestein: Prepare my friend! We will soon be triumphant!

-Promestein notices Sean’s facial expression-

Promestein: What is it Sean?

Sean Libby: I have never… I have never hurt a woman before.

Promestein: This is no woman Sean. This is Matthew’s sister. We have to hurt her. Hath no fear in it. Whatever you do to her, will make him come.

-Sean looks at Promestein and grows a evil smile like Promestein’s-

-After a night of waiting Sean and Promestein wait for the speech from Corey Casey to begin-

Sean Libby: There she is… Lets go!

Promestein: No! Wait Sean. Lets take this slowly.

-Promestein and Sean slowly open the door walking towards the ring-

Promestein: Go after Casey first. Then Jessica. She will have no protection after you eliminate Corey.

-Sean begins picking up pace-

-About half way to the ring barricade Promestein pulls out a control button and presses a button-

-Heavy rock music blares through the speakers. Corey stops, looking around.-

-From the barricade, Sean Libby leaps over the crowd barricade sliding into the ring and clubbing Corey to the back of the head with a massive fist. Corey falls against the podium, knocking it over. Sean kicks him hard to the ribs, and starts stomping him out-
-Dr. Promestein stands at ringside, barking orders at Sean. Sean turns to the doctor, who nods, a wicked smile on his face-

-Sean turns to Jessica, who screams, backing into a corner. Sean smirks, towering over her. She shakes her head, visibly crying, holding her hands in front of her face, anything to hide from Sean. Sean shoves her, sending her flying back into the turnbuckle. She hits it hard and falls to the mat with a smack. Sean lifts her by her hair, staring her in the face. He picks her up onto his shoulders, preparing for the final maneuver-

-Out of nowhere, Chuck Matthews slides into the ring, charging at Sean. Sean drops Jessica, who immediately scurries to Corey's side. Chuck ducks down, looking for a spear. Sean lifts his boot, driving it into Chuck's face, and sending him crashing to the mat. He lifts Chuck above his head, moving towards the ropes-

-Promestein holds out his hand shaking his head, and Sean drops Chuck to the mat. Chuck immediately gets to his feet, but Sean slides out of the ring, shaking his head. Promestein grabs a mic as he retreats up the ramp-

Promestein: And like the prodigal son, Chuck Matthews has returned to our presence!

-He laughs-

Promestein Living proof that every animal will come out of hiding. You just need the right bait...

-Chuck kicks the ropes angrily, making a move to step out of the ring-

Promestein: Oh, believe me Matthews if I wanted to, I could have Sean here crush you right here and now, and he wouldn't so much as break a sweat! However I don't want that.......not yet at least. No......... I want you to be fresh, I want you ready, at a hundred percent. Next week, in New York, at From the Ashes? THAT's when you and Sean will have your fight.

-Chuck picks up the chair from the ring and hurls it up the ramp, watching it bounce a good ten feet from Sean and Promestein-

Promestein: Next week, Chuck! Next week, on the biggest stage of all! Your beloved streak is going to come to a painful...screeching....halt.

-He then gives a sinister laugh before staring back at Chuck as Sean poses behind him, motioning the From the Ashes logo-

-Promestein pushes Sean backwards to the backstage area as Sean yells at Chuck spitting his blood at him-

Sean Libby: What the hell was that doctor?! I thought you wanted me to destroy him!

Promestein: Yes Sean I do! But we must stick with the original plan! We want to humiliate him! We want him to never wrestle again, yes?

-Sean slows his breathing down-

Promestein: What better way to do that, than at this company’s biggest stage?  From The Ashes will not only end his streak, but his career as a wrestler! All because of you Sean. I gave you the spotlight chance and now you will prove to be the winner.

Sean Libby: Are you sure?

-Promestein smirks-

Promestein: I guarantee it. Now come, we must get out of here before he finds us. Don’t want him to interrupt us.

-Promestein walks Sean to his car-

-Promestein starts driving away into the night of darkness as the screen goes black-


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The Chuck

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PostSubject: Re: Chuck Matthews [vs] Sean Libby   Mon Aug 26, 2013 2:23 am

"IWF Cancels Major Deal"

"No Word on the Future of Matthews Enterprises"

"Sinclair Holdings has Plans for ME"

"End of an Enterprise!"

"Where is Chuck Matthews?"

Amazing. A few months. A few big headlines. And now, nobody had so much as heard from Chuck in months. One day, he was on IWF television, the advisor to Jessica Matthews as she managed day-to-day business on IWF. The next day, he was gone, and hadn't been heard from since...

Name: Chuck Matthews
Location: A Bar, Unknown Location
Date: A Few Weeks Ago

Reporter: "Major announcement from Sinclair Holdings today, as representative William Colt announced-"

???: "Turn this shit off."

The bartender frowns at the patron, but changes the channel to a baseball game. The man slams his empty glass on the counter. The bartender grabs a bottle of rum and begins to pour into the glass. He turns to put the bottle away.

Man: "Leave it."

The bartender looks at him for a moment. He shakes his head, but leaves the bottle at the man's side, and goes back to work. The man stares coldly at the TV, slamming back another drink. The door chimes as it opens, and a new patron wanders in.

Bartender: "Evening."

The newcomer nods, but doesn't yet walk into the bar. His eyes scan the room, looking at the men and women clustered around the room. His eyes lock with the stranger at the bar. He takes a seat next to the man.

Man: "I'm not interested."

Stranger: "I'm just sitting down. You assume I'm here to talk to you."

Man: "There are five seats at this bar. Seats are like urinals. You always choose the one farthest away from one that's occupied. There's a fine woman sitting at the other end, and she's been eying you since the moment you walked in. Now, socially, if you just wanted a drink, you'd take the middle seat, and avoid all human contact except the communication between you and the bartender. If you wanted to talk to someone, the obvious choice would be the woman who's been ogling you for the past five minutes. But you chose the stranger at the end, who clearly wants to be alone. Simple observation. You singled me out. I'm saying I'm not interested."

The stranger smirks.

Stranger: "Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Matthews."

Chuck looks up, staring at the newcomer. He sneers. A cold blue stare meets the mock innocence on the face of the stranger.

Chuck Matthews: "And what reputation is that?"

Stranger: "They say you're one of the most brilliant minds of our time. You're a strategist. You think on your feet....and you're extremely narcissistic."

Chuck smirks. He couldn't argue with that. He had never really changed his ways. He was a speaker, and a thinker. That was obvious. That's what he did best, and he had never seen any other reason to change a winning formula. He could think his way through any situation, and he could convince people to do what he required of them. What more was there?

Chuck Matthews: "Can't argue with that."

Stranger: "And yet, you let a man like Jackson Sinclair take you down."

Chuck pours another drink, not making eye contact with the stranger.

Chuck Matthews: "You know those movies where the guy at the bar takes one step too far, and the other guy picks up a bottle and smashes it across his head? We'll be coming up to that point if you don't make your point fast."

Stranger: "I need your help."

Chuck laughs.

Chuck Matthews: "A lot of people need my help. Like you said, brilliant mind. Doesn't mean shit to me."

Stranger: "So you're pissing your life away in this dump?"

Chuck shrugs.

Chuck Matthews: "It passes time."

Stranger: "I could use your talents-"

Chuck Matthews: "And I told you before, I'm not interested. You wanna make a deal with me, you better have a bargaining chip. I don't work for free."

Stranger: "I need information, and I need to figure out a course of action to take down a powerful company run by an even more powerful individual. I think I have the means to gather the information I need, but I need someone with your strategic mind to help me formulate a plan."

Chuck Matthews: "And what's in it for me?"

Stranger: "Revenge."

Chuck pauses.

Chuck Matthews: "You're assuming things. Who would I ever want to take revenge , against?"

Stranger: "The man who bought out your company, and then shut it down."

Chuck laughs again.

Chuck Matthews: "You want to take down Jackson Sinclair."

Stranger: "As much as you do."

Chuck Matthews: "The guy's a ghost."

Stranger: "I don't believe that."

Chuck waves his arm, shaking his head.

Chuck Matthews: "I'm telling you. I met the man once, when the deal went down. But I got nothing on the guy. No records, no news reports, nothing. He has representatives make his announcements for him. He never appears in public. No dirt. He's untouchable."

Stranger: "Nobody's untouchable."

Chuck stares at the man.

Chuck Matthews: "What's your interest in Sinclair anyway?"

The stranger scowls.

Stranger: "He...he took my son."

Chuck nods slowly.

Chuck Matthews: "I'm sorry."

Stranger: "A while back...I was put in prison for something I didn't do. Sinclair got me out, paid my debts, got me back on my feet. Told me I could pay him back by doing some work for him-"

Chuck Matthews: "But he always found a way to keep you in debt. Some slip-up on your part that he had to clean up? Bought you cheap housing, but charged a high price so you'd still be paying him back? Got the best lawyers he had on your case to get your name cleared? All those things cost money, and he knew you didn't have it."

Stranger: "...Yeah."

Chuck nods.

Chuck Matthews: "Absolutely brilliant, actually. Dirty, of course, but brilliant."

Stranger: "Can you help me?"

Chuck looks at the man. He frowns, but nods slowly.

Chuck Matthews: "I'll see what I can do."

The stranger grabs Chuck's hand, shaking it emphatically.

Chuck Matthews: "But hold on there, there's a catch. If you and I are going to do this...impossible task...You need to listen to me. Totally and completely. Do what I tell you, when I tell you, and do not question why, but trust that I know what I'm doing. I will give you information only when I feel that you need to know, and only when it's information that I can risk others finding out. I can't risk you getting caught or arrested or anything and spilling your guts about my plans."

Stranger: "Done."

Chuck Matthews: "Next, I need all your information on Sinclair. That's the first thing we do. Let me look things over. Everyone has a weakness. Jackson Sinclair is brilliant, to be sure...but he's not untouchable. Everybody's got a secret, and every secret can be exploited. We're going to find his."

Stranger: "Of course. Done."

Chuck smirks and nods.

Chuck Matthews: "Then I think we're in business. We'll keep in touch."

The stranger nods, and stands.

Chuck Matthews: "One more question...what was your name, anyway?"

The stranger looks back at Chuck.

Stranger: "Jason Slade."


Name: Chuck Matthews
Location: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Date: Monday

Jessica slaps Chuck across the face.

Jessica Casey: "What the FUCK is wrong with you?"

Chuck says nothing. His expression is blank, almost bored. Jessica paces angrily in front of him.

Jessica Casey: "Four months, Charlie. You vanished into thin fucking air for FOUR MONTHS. No visits, no phone calls, not so much as a text. Never answering your phone...and then, in typical Chuck fashion, you come out of the blue to pursue some stupid agenda."

Chuck Matthews: "Funny. I figured saving you from Libby's beating would have left you a little happier to see-"

He's interrupted by Jessica slapping him again.

Jessica Casey: "Don't even start. I just....why do you DO this?"

Chuck Matthews: "Things happened."

Jessica Casey: "I'll say. Alex didn't resign the ME deal. You sold the company...then what?"

Chuck looks at her.

Chuck Matthews: "What then what?"

Jessica Casey: "What happened then? Last I so much as heard your name, it was a news report saying you'd sold off Matthews Enterprises to some investment firm."

Chuck Matthews: "Sinclair Holdings."

Jessica Casey: "Whatever."

Chuck Matthews: "And he shut it down."

Jessica stares at Chuck.

Jessica Casey: "So...what, you're done? No more ME?"

Chuck shrugs.

Jessica Casey: "What have you been doing for money?"

Chuck shrugs again. Jessica stops pacing, looking up at Chuck.

Jessica Casey: "...when was the last time you went home?"

Chuck says nothing.

Jessica Casey: "You're.....homeless."

Chuck frowns, and rubs the back of his neck. He sighs deeply. Jessica crinkles her nose.

Jessica Casey: "Have you been drinking?"

Chuck Matthews: "Might've had one or two before I drove here."

Jessica shakes her head, staring at Chuck.

Jessica Casey: "What happened to you?"

Chuck Matthews: "Don't worry about it."

Jessica Casey: "I'm going to worry about it, because you're my little brother, and if you have a problem, I want to help you!"

Chuck Matthews: "Don't...worry about it."

Jessica Casey: "You were there to help Corey and I when we needed it. Why won't you let us repay the favor?"

Chuck smirks.

Chuck Matthews: "I have a plan."

Jessica Casey: "Of course you do. There's always a plan with you. So what is it this time, Charlie? Some personal army? A hidden bank with untold amounts of money that you can pull out when you need it most?"

Chuck Matthews: "A good magician never reveals his secrets. Come on now."

Jessica shakes her head.

Jessica Casey: "I can't even believe you. Fine. Fine. Leave, then. Go and do your stupid plan. Push away your family and friends. AGAIN. That's all you ever do, isn't it?"

Chuck smiles.

Chuck Matthews: "See? Now you're getting it."

Jessica slaps him one more time. She's about to open her mouth, but Chuck's phone rings.

Jessica Casey: "That your latest pawn? Some accomplice?"

Chuck Matthews: "Probably."

Jessica glares coldly at her brother.

Jessica Casey: "I guess I'll just leave you to your work. You take care of yourself, Charlie."

She sneers as she says his name before turning on her heel and storming out of the room. Chuck watches her leave before pulling his phone from his pocket and answering the call.

Chuck Matthews: "Slade. What've you got?"

Jason Slade: "Chuck. I need to talk to you. I think...I think I'm onto something big. I need to talk to you in person."

Chuck Matthews: "Calm down there, Slade. You in Philly?"

Jason Slade: "Yeah. Meet me at the warehouse on 85th. We'll chat there."

Chuck Matthews: "Will do."

Chuck hangs up the phone, and smirks.


Name: Jason Slade
Location: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Date: Monday

Sinclair had gone too far. For weeks, he had been coming up with new jobs for me to do. New pickups to be made. People he needed "taken care of." I'd done unspeakable things. Things that, if the state didn't have reason to put me in jail before, my actions would have certainly been enough to put me to death now. A few weeks ago, Sinclair had come up to me with a solution.


Jackson Sinclair: "I know it's not an ideal situation, Mr. Slade, but think about the big picture. I've taken good care of you. I've given you a home, I've given you your life back, and in return-"

Jason Slade: "In return, you've put me in a life of servitude, and you've ensured that I will never buy my way out."

I couldn't believe the situation I was in. Sinclair wasn't even present. Two of his goons were standing by, dressed in suits, wearing dark-tinted sunglasses. On the table is a cell phone, and it's from that phone that Sinclair is speaking. He had cited an important meeting in New York, and apologized for not being there in person. I knew the real reason. With his proposal, it would have taken every fiber in my being not to strangle the man.

Jackson Sinclair: "Aww, that hurts. You and I are a team, Mr. Slade. We take care of each other. I won't deny that my actions haven't been entirely honest, but that's just how business works, son. But I'm offering to get you out. No strings attached."

Jason Slade: "I can't do it."

Jackson Sinclair: "Mr. Slade, think about the big picture here. You've gotten everything you need. You're all set. But you're in over your head with debt. I'm willing to clear your debt completely. In full. You keep everything I've given you. In return, you give me your son. He'll be taken care of in my own home. He'll be cared for. He'll have everything he needs, and far more than you could ever provide."

Jason Slade: "He's my only son."

Jackson Sinclair: "So do what's best for him."

I stare at Michael. He sits in the corner, not making a sound. Not speaking a word. Could I really do this? Could I send my son away? Forever?

Jason Slade: "Fine."

Michael looks up with a gasp. The two suited men step forward. I look away, forcing myself to look away...I couldn't watch.

Jackson Sinclair: "Mr. Slade, you have my word that I will raise young Michael as if he were my own. You don't worry 'bout a thing, son."

Michael Slade: "Daddy!"

I hear the door slam behind them. And I'm alone.


That was weeks ago. I had since enlisted the aid of a specialist. I knew what I had done was wrong. It was strange. I don't know what had come over me, but once I'd agreed to the deal, there was no going back. No change of heart. I had given away my only son...the only one in the world who believed I was innocent. The only one who could see me for who I really was...and I'd pushed him away, to some scumbag who had done more harm than good. What sort of father was I?

I had devised a plan. I had found someone, a man who had as much reason to hate Sinclair as I did. His name was Chuck Matthews. Normally, he was exactly the kind of guy I hated. Powerful. Wealthy. Some smooth-talking son of a bitch who had stepped on a lot of people to get where he was now. But now, he was exactly the kind of person I needed. He was exactly like Sinclair. He was a man who understood business, and a man who understood people. I needed a strategist, and Matthews had established himself as exactly that. I would fight fire with fire, and with Chuck's help, we would be able to take Sinclair and his company down permanently.

He had asked me to gather information. That much I could do. I had met a man who worked for Sinclair's company. A friend of mine, and one who was willing to see what he could figure out. I trusted him, so when he had called me earlier sounding worried, I knew he had found something...and from the sound of it, something big. Now, I sat at a cafe, in a seat out in the sun. It seemed like a poor spot for such a meeting, but the place was busy. Nobody would hear our voices over so much chatter, and to anyone else, it would be a completely inconspicuous meeting.

Carson Pierce: "Slade!"

I turn. Carson is running up fast, breathing heavily. He holds a file in his hands, grasping it with a death-grip. His glasses are sliding off his face, and his long greasy hair waves behind him.

Carson Pierce: "Slade!"

He races up, still panting.

Carson Pierce: "Man..I think...I think I found something huge about your guy Sinclair."

I nod, looking at the folder. In that folder...could that hold the answers? Could that be the secret to taking down Jackson Sinclair?

Jason Slade: "Calm down, Carson. Just tell me. What did you find?"

Carson is practically giddy with excitement. He pulls up a chair, spilling his folder onto the table.

Carson Pierce: "So check this out, first, nothing weird, right? Did some basic background checks. Jackson Sinclair. Born in 1983 in Atlanta, Georgia. His parents were farmers. Never really made a lot of money, so there's not a whole lot when he was young. Parents weren't anything special, whatever. Sinclair gets a mind for business. Goes to Yale, graduates top of his class. Marries this woman Sofia Shaw."

Jason Slade: "Right..."

Carson Pierce: "He does some work for this company, gets his feet wet in the business world. Eventually leaves to start his investment firm a few months ago. That's Sinclair Holdings. Comes up with this clever scheme where he starts buying out failing companies with promises of keeping them running until they can sort their finances. Now, that's just oral contracts, nothing that can ever be held up in a court. They trust his word, sign away their shares to him. He keeps them running for a bit, keeps their hopes up that he's true to his word. Then he hits some sort of complication, has to 'cut ties' and shuts down the company. He pisses off the old CEO sure, but since he technically owns the company there's nothing anyone can do. He reaps the benefits of shutting down his own competition. Now, sometimes he keeps it. Keeps some resources that might prove beneficial in the long run. It expands his business, you know? But he's creating monopolies all over the place. He's got a stranglehold on real estate now, and he's currently working to get huge military contracts and-"

Jason Slade: "What's the point? All you're telling me is that the dude's untouchable. This is shady as fuck, but like it or not, it's all legal. We can't do a goddamn thing with this."

Carson holds up a finger.

Carson Pierce: "That's just the tip of the iceberg, man. That's shit that basic searches will get you. It gets weird."

Jason Slade: "Go on..."

Carson Pierce: "So I look into Sinclair's medical records. Don't even ask the hoops I had to jump through to get these. Now check this out: The happy couple, Jackson and Sofia? They've been trying to have a kid for ages. They can't."

Jason Slade: "Ok....?"

Carson Pierce: "Jackson Sinclair is infertile. He can't physically have children. Some weird problem they can't explain."

That explained why Sinclair wanted my son so badly. It wasn't means to an end, Sinclair saw Michael as a son he could never have. The son of a bitch kidnapped my only son to raise as his own. It was starting to make sense.

Jason Slade: "I hardly think that's anything to use against him though."

Carson Pierce: "Hey, don't worry, I got more than just an embarrassing family secret. Look at this. The company Sinclair worked for in his early years was this place called Kingdom Come Promotions. Owned by a guy named Jonathan Kingsley. KCP was the first to fall to Sinclair's little scheme."

Jason Slade: "Makes sense. Sinclair and Kingsley had history. Kingsley felt confident in Sinclair's business prowess, and trusted him to keep things going. He was the perfect mark."

Carson Pierce: "But Kingdom Come wasn't a huge company. Sinclair Holdings got really fucking big, really fucking fast. Like, almost TOO fast, you know? So I did some digging, and I figured out that his company didn't really start taking off until about a year ago, when he started dealing with this promotion right here."

Carson slides a sheet of paper across the table. It's a financial report, with a massive logo in the shape of an "M.E." stamped on the top.

Carson Pierce: "Matthews Enterprises. Run by a guy named-"

Jason Slade: "Chuck Matthews. Sinclair later bought it and sold it off."

Carson Pierce: "Right. But here's the weird thing. They played it up like it was some huge buyout, and Sinclair paid top dollar for Matthews' entire corporation. Weird thing is, they didn't. I checked out some of Sinclair's finances. Matthews was selling his company in pieces. Little branches of his company, and he was doing it for years. Enterprise was this massive company. Dealt with military grade weapons, security, media, mechanics, medical research. You name it, this company was dabbling in it. Eventually, they started trimming down. Everyone thought they were just shutting down those branches. Instead, they were selling it, bit by bit, to Sinclair."

Jason Slade: "That's just good business sense. You don't want to lay off hundreds of workers, so if there's someone willing to buy, you sell the piece off instead, instead of shutting it down. It's like buying an international branch of a company."

Carson Pierce: "Whatever it is, Matthews made Sinclair rich. Sinclair brought those branches to new levels. When ME hit a slump, Sinclair was right there to buy the rest of the company, and he shut it down-"

Jason Slade: "Leaving Matthews in the dust, I know the story."

Carson Pierce: "Cool. And then I dug deeper. Decided this was all weirdly coincidental. Did some more research into Kingdom Come's records. And take a wild guess what I found out?"

Jason Slade: "That you'll never get married?"

Carson Pierce: "There was never a Jackson Sinclair on their payroll. The man claimed that his entire business enterprise started with his old friend Kingsley. As far as I could find, Kingsley never even knew Sinclair until he had sold off his company."

Jason Slade: "Why would Sinclair lie about his past employment?"

Carson Pierce: "My thoughts exactly. So I did a little more digging. Made a few calls to Yale, decided to see what kind of guy Sinclair was in college, and where he went after graduation. Turns out-"

Carson never managed to finish his sentence. A black van screeches up behind us, the doors opening before the vehicle has even managed to stop. Three men in suits jump out, grabbing Carson from behind, pulling him from the chair. Around us, people start screaming, running. One of Sinclair's suits grabs the file and all the papers, retreating back to the car. The men slam the door shut, Carson shouting from inside before the van peels away. I stare at the van as it races down the street.

Jason Slade: "FUCK!"

I kick my chair hard, sending it sliding across the concrete. I pace back and forth. Carson was my only lead...and somehow, Sinclair had known he had found something. And Carson HAD found something. He'd found something huge. I'd never know what it was...

...Chuck. Chuck had to know something. His company had given Sinclair Holdings its meteoric rise. There had to be something Matthews wasn't telling me. Even if he didn't, surely he had to know SOMETHING about Sinclair? Matthews was a smart man. He wouldn't make a deal like that without knowing the buyer, right? I pull out my phone, punching in Chuck's number. It rings a few times before he answers.

Chuck Matthews: "Slade. What've you got?"

Name: Jackson Sinclair
Location: Unknown Location
Date: Wednesday

Carson Pierce wakes up in a dark room. He's chained down. The smell of sweat and mold lingers.

Jackson Sinclair: "Well now, Mr. Pierce. You've been quite busy lately, haven't you son?"

Carson Pierce: "Where am I?"

Jackson Sinclair: "You're on a boat. My boat, to be specific. It's a transport, really. I don't like using it if I can avoid it. I hate the smell."

Carson Pierce: "I know your secrets, Sinclair."

Jackson steps into the light. His brown hair sits atop his head, not a strand out of place. He smiles warmly.

Jackson Sinclair: "Ah, yes, you do, don't ya? Well now, that won't do, will it? I can't have you goin' around showin' everyone the skeletons I got hidin' in my closet, can I?"

Carson Pierce: "What are you going to do? Where are you taking me?"

Jackson paces, circling slowly around Carson.

Jackson Sinclair: "You know, in the Bible, God gave man everything. Gave him food...water...a place to live...everything they'd ever need to be happy. I did that for you, didn't I Carson? Just like I did for Mr. Slade. I brought you fine gentlemen from the clutches of sin, from the bowels of hell, an' I put you in my own little...Garden of Eden, ain't that right?"

Carson Pierce: "I-"

Jackson Sinclair: "You were a failure and a bum. You were a brilliant mind, Pierce, a brilliant mind. But you pissed that away for what? Alcohol? Cheap whores? I gave you life, son...and you spat in my face. You went behind my back, and I don't think I appreciate that too much, boy. I think that's mighty inconsiderate, considerin' all I done for you."

Carson Pierce: "So what now?"

Sinclair sighs.

Jackson Sinclair: "You know...I wasn't always a businessman. I was born out on a farm, outside of Atlanta. My family lived on that farm for generations. Used to be a plantation back in the 1800s. Nice place, really. We never had much though...but growin' up on a farm, you learn a thing or two. You know what I learned, Mr. Pierce?"

Carson Pierce: "Enlighten me."

Jackson Sinclair: "I learned about all the rodents that get into your crops. I learned about all the predators that wanna take what you got. We used to have snakes. Lots of snakes on our farm. We had cattle, see? A lot of cattle. My daddy used to take em out to the fields, let em graze, have their run of the prairies. Snakes would attack em, see? Poison em. Kill em off. Snakes were not things you wanted to see on my daddy's farm."

He smiles at the memories, then stops in front of Carson, looking down at him.

Jackson Sinclair: "Course...there's only one way to really deal with a snake, ya know? Can't just pick em up and pitch em. They just come back. Can't scare em off, they ain't the kind to get scared. Nah...when my daddy saw a snake, he'd pin it to a rock. Trap it. And then, when he got it pinned down, he had this shovel. This big spade he'd use to break the ground. Tougher than nails, and the spade was sharp as a tree was tall. He'd pin that snake to the rock and then grab that shovel, and he'd cut that damn snake's head clean off. Let it die. Let it watch it's own body writhe in pain before finally ceasin' to move. That's how ya had to get rid of em...and it stuck with me to the end."

A man slowly walks up behind Sinclair, a man Carson hadn't noticed before. He wore a black hood that concealed his face, but wore only a leather strap across his chest. He held a sickle in one hand, and the keys to Carson's chains rattled at his side, hooked to the leather strap.

Jackson Sinclair: "This here's my good friend. We call him the Warden, but I like to think of him as my personal gardener. He looks after my little Garden of Eden, and he's kind enough to take care of the snakes in the garden...just like my daddy used to do on the farm."

Sinclair leans over, getting close to Carson's face. When he next speaks, it's barely a whisper.

Jackson Sinclair: "Now you tell me, son....are you a snake?"

He straightens up, smiling.

Jackson Sinclair: "Warden, he's all yours. Take him to Tartarus."

The Warden nods, and moves to unchain Carson. Sinclair turns to leave, but pauses when he reaches the door.

Jackson Sinclair: "And don't kill him. Make sure he has some time to take in the scenery."

The Warden pulls a metal mask from a black pouch at his side. Carson screams, yelling and cursing at Sinclair. The Warden slowly straps the mask over Carson's face...and the screaming ceases in an instant.


Chuck Matthews: "You surprised me, Sean. You really did.

That's not a compliment.

So let me get this straight. I leave for a few months, as I'm quite prone to do. You, meanwhile, get yourself crippled, go through surgery, and come back as some sort of monster powerhouse. You choose this newfound power to A man that, as far as you knew, wasn't even alive, let alone in the wrestling business.

Let's stop right there. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm flattered that of everyone in IWF...hell, everyone in wrestling, and you wanted your big return to be against me. That's cool. I admire that. And, honestly, had you just come up to me and issued the challenge, I would have gladly taken it.

That's the funny thing. You're a good kid, Sean, and I appreciate loyalty and hard work. Fact of the matter is, no matter how shitty things have gotten for you, you've always had that upbeat nature. You've always looked on the bright side, and you've had the fans on your side almost every step of the way. You've been an IWF man through and through, and you've busted your ass to entertain the fans. You've had some big wins and some big losses, but it never seemed to be about that for you. It was about going out and having fun. I respected that about you, Libby. I respected the fact that you were content with losing, so long as you still had the fans on your side. I respected the fact that you knew you'd never be the biggest guy in the locker room, but you would never take shortcuts to make yourself better. That's the Sean Libby I know and respect. That's the Sean Libby I remember.

Unfortunately, that's the Sean Libby you seem to have forgot.

Suddenly you're some musclebound meathead with something to prove? Suddenly you're not confronting someone like a man, but drawing them out? Baiting them? Like I'm some sort of animal?

You treat me like an animal, Sean, don't be so surprised that this old dog fights back. Fact of the matter is, Libby, you did some unforgiveable things these last few weeks. You came back with some sort of entitlement. You came expecting the whole worldbe handed to you. You're the uncrowned champion, you say! You're the best wrestler to never win the IWF Championship!

Hey....guess what there bumfuck? I never won the IWF Championship either. Guess how many shits I have to give?

You want to be the best wrestler in the world Sean, and that's commendable. That's something I can support, and that's something I can respect. That's not the problem. The problem is that you fail to grasp those very concepts that only the best in the business seem to know.

Rule number one? Titles are worthless.

I heard your lovely little press conference, Sean. Heard you dropping my name, talking about your match with me. You made the claim that I'm not a legend, simply because I've never held the IWF world title. Hell, simply because I've never held a singles title in IWF. But I want to ask you something, Sean. I want you to think of everyone in IWF, past, present, and future. Besides yourself, how many of them, if asked, would agree with you? How many would tell you 'You're right, Chuck's no legend.'

Rhetorical question, shitstain. The correct answer is 'A big ol' fucking goose egg.'

THAT is what makes a legend, Sean. Legends are not created by title belts or main events. They're created by the fans. They're created by the performances they put on. You're damn right Libby, I'm a legend in my own mind. What you fail to see though, is that I'm a legend in everyone else's as well.

You think big biceps and some newfound aggression is going to stop me Sean? Let me run through the list of everyone that's been bigger than me that I've beaten. Are you ready?

Corey Casey
Craig Hemming
Ryan Apollos
Robbie Hart

I mean, those are just the biggest names. I mean, you look at me when I compete. I'm just over the two-hundred pound mark. By wrestler standards, I'm not a big guy. You think size scares me? You think the fact that you can lift stuff makes me nervous?

You tried to come up with a way to beat me, but you somehow failed to calculate the one advantage I have over every single opponent. I'M SMARTER THAN YOU ARE.

Seriously, I don't know how you fucked that one up.

What made you think size was going to make a difference? You're right, had we fought this time last year, I had a size advantage over you. But that doesn't say a whole lot. I'm not a physically imposing individual. I don't pride myself on my physical strength, or my speed. If you wanted to take away one of my advantages, you should have chosen something that I actually do hold AS an advantage. Attack my mind, Sean. Bring yourself up to speed, learn a few things, get on my level. Think the way I think.

Hell, watch my old promos. Because you wanna know a cool little tidbit about Chuck Matthews? Are you ready? Got your notebook ready?

I'm a one-trick pony, man.

For the last two years, I've just been doing the same shtick and sticking a different name over it. Every match I have, I get myself a lovely little camera crew. Sup guys? They turn on their equipment, and I find myself a nice little chair to relax this one right here! And I sit. And I stare right into the camera. And I tell you, in great detail, exactly what you need to do to beat me.

Seriously, it's like, my modus operandi. That's how I do things. I sit and I spell it out for you, every time I step into the ring. You want to beat me? Here's what to do.

And every single time, my opponent magnificently fails to do so. Why should I expect anything different from you, Sean? What do you have that nobody else has had? Big arms? Craig had those. Ruthless aggression? Corey Casey had that. How many times did I beat him? A manager at ringside?

Oh good god, here we go. All eyes on you, Proxyslime!

Prom stain?

Promised land?

Problem child?

Promestein. That's the one! So uh....what's up doc? Yeah...I see you. I know the game. Hell, I pretty much wrote the rulebook on that game. I know a puppetmaster when I see one, and you sir, are a textbook Mangiafuoco.

I'll give you all a minute to google search that so you can understand my reference. Pull out your smartphones kiddies, it's okay, it's all in the name of learning.

The problem with puppetmasters, Promestein, is that it becomes so easy to cut the strings. And once I've battered your puppet, what's left? What do I have to fear from the man behind the curtain? Who's there to stand between me and the great and powerful Oz? The trick, Promestein, is to create a con with all sorts of outs. A con that becomes so intricate, that it can't fail. Have backups for your backups.

Your plan, Promestein, fails for several reasons. First, you only put one guy against me, and you tried to create a monster. Let me be clear with you. You can't just MAKE someone good enough to beat me. It's something that takes years of preparation. Training. Studying. You need to watch my every move. Hear my words, study my patterns. Make sure your puppet knows everything you know. Make sure they know the course of action.

The second problem is that you forgot the most important thing about outsmarting a guy like me: You can't con a conman.

You can't out-think me, Promestein, because you can't understand the way I think. You can't put yourself on a level above mine, because you're not entirely sure where my level even is. So you go as best you can. Put your best foot forward, right?

Are you sure that was enough? Did you think through all possible scenarios? Did you think of what could go wrong?

No? Now you're starting to see your mistake. So what's Plan B, Promestein? What's the next course of action? What happens when you see everything you prepared for fall apart at the seams?

Because, the fact of the matter is, you two have a numbers advantage, but you're fighting a man who looks at a stacked deck and uses it to fuel his own power. I'm at From the Ashes. This is the biggest event in the IWF year, boys. Do you know what that means?

I'm undefeated. You said it yourself. When the lights shine brightest, I get better and better. I don't lose. You two outnumber me? When has that ever bothered me before? I used to go through gauntlet matches at these kinds of events, just to prove I could. I used to take on three, four, five men, beat them all, just to test how good I really was.

And I learned something, as my career went on. I may not be the greatest in history. Hell, you made a good point, I never won the IWF Championship. But when it comes to the biggest stage of them all...I cannot lose. I do not lose. Something about this night...something about the spotlight shining, about millions of people around the world with their eyes on changes a man. It gives you power. It puts you at the top of your game. I don't make mistakes. I don't slip up. I go out, and I put on a flawless performance. I do everything exactly as I intend. I have mastered the art of using the fans' energy to give me my strength...and when the fans are at their peak...when the fans' energy is at the highest level, my skill goes up to match it.

Do you know what that's like, Sean? Can you say the same as me? Can you feed off the energy of the crowd? Can you dig deep, find that energy, and keep fighting? Can you press forward, even when your body is telling you to stop?

THAT's what makes a legend. When you command your body to fight until the end...when you give everything you have, every last scrap of energy you can muster, when you give until you feel like you cannot give anything more, and then you go right ahead and give it anyway...when you empty your tank to the fumes, and still power back from the jaws of defeat to win a match...then, and ONLY then, will people see you as a legend.

I've done that, Sean. I've done that, time and time again. But you? What have you done? What makes you so confident?

Normally, I would tell you that it isn't personal. I'd tell you it's just business, or you're an unfortunate victim of circumstance. Not this time. You attacked my family. You tried to hurt my hurt my friends. That is not going to go unnoticed. I will not let you off so easily, regardless of how much I may have respected you in the past. You've done things that no man should ever do, and for that, you are going to answer for them. You played it stupid, Sean. You listened to your doctor buddy, and it only dug you deeper in the hole. Now you've gone and pissed me off. Was that really a smart move? Was that your goal? Did you want to get on my bad side?

You're going to learn, Sean, exactly why you don't take a man like me lightly. You're going to learn your mistake in attacking my getting on my bad side.

You've taken the safety off the gun, Sean.

Now can you dodge the bullet?"
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