Kill the King

Stygian: [voiceover] Upper Limit keeps reinventing itself, trying to find the right combination of men which will allow them to control the Insurgency. Upper Limit keeps recruiting men, many men, it’s up to, what, four now? They need four men to do what I am going to do Sunday…

The screen fades in to a sort of faded, slow-cut, dramatic kind of footage usually reserved for sporting event montages leading into a big game or match. You’ll see it in the next two weeks planet with a Super Bowl coming up. You see them in the UFC all the time. You’ve probably seen one of these montages in IWF. Now you are seeing another one. How lucky for you. It starts with some appropriate background music.

Stygian: [voiceover] The first night I got here, I served notice by dismantling and dismembering a man. It doesn’t matter who he was, it matters that I demolished him and he never came back.

Violent Impulse. Stygian and Tim Patrick face off, center ring. Cut to Tim being wrapped up in Stygian’s coat and pounded. Then we see Tim Patrick dropped throat-first across the top rope. Then Stygian grinds Tim’s throat into the middle rope with his foot. Then we see Stygian finish Tim Patrick off with the Baneblade. The shot lingers on Tim Patrick being stretchered out as Stygian speaks again.

Stygian: [voiceover] Nobody’s seen Tim Patrick since then. Nobody ever will again. He doesn’t want me to know he’s even on the same continent as I am. From there I got my first taste of gold in this company.

Stygian and Tyson Rowle stand center ring at Pick Your Poison, Tyson still has the High Impact Title around his waist as the camera pans around them. Cut to the point in the match where Stygian power-bombed Tyson off the top turnbuckle and called out to the crowd, who promptly filled the ring with steel chairs. First we see a slow-motion shot of Stygian destroying Tyson Rowle’s face with a chain-wrapped fist. Then he dents five different chairs on Tyson’s head. The next highlight is Stygian Edgecuting Tyson off the top rope into a mountain of steel chairs. The video is capped by the Baneblade that put Tyson Rowle through a cheese-grater-enhanced table. Stygian holds the High Impact Title up, but we are again given to watch Tyson Rowle being carted off by paramedics.

Stygian: [voiceover] It should have been readily apparent then, where I was headed. But all anyone could be bothered to do was deride me. “You haven’t beaten anyone,” they would tell me. “You got a DQ over Dan Alexander and you fought Chuck Matthews to a draw.” They wanted me to beat someone who’d done something worthy of their notice. They wanted me to defeat someone who they felt was worthy of their notice. Then James Shark punched me in the face…

The screen doesn’t go to New Year’s Evil right away, first it shows Stygian clocking James Shark with a chair and hand cuffing him to the ring post, and then it cuts to him breaking Shark’s arm with that same steel chair. After that, the selected highlights of the match play. It starts with Stygian tearing the cast off of Shark’s arm and tossing it into the crowd. Then it shows Stygian brutalizing that arm with stomps and then coming off the ropes and dropping his weight on it. From there the video moves to Stygian cracking James in the skull with a steel chair to break his figure four. Next we see Shark getting smashed with the steel steps. Then we see Stygian and Shark pummeling one another with right hands ala Frye/Takayama. Shark then gets blasted an subsequently drilled with the extinguisher. And then, like Tyson Rowle before him, he is Banebladed off the side of the ring and through a table. The highlight lingers with Stygian on the top of the ramp, holding the High Impact title high.

Stygian: [voiceover] Finally people had to stop attributing my dominance to luck. They finally came to know what the rest of the world had figured out a long time ago: I am one of the best in the world. Here’s what you have to understand about IWF, it’s insularly; IWF is arrogant enough to think it’s a step above the rest. IWF thinks it’s so much better that whatever you did elsewhere, you couldn’t do here. But I did do it here. I left a trail of broken men behind me. And as for that fluke DQ over Dan Alexander and that draw with Chuck Matthews…

Battle Grounds is the setting for both of the next highlights. It starts with Dan Alexander and Stygian staring across the ring in what would be the last match of Dan’s career on the last night of Dan’s life. Stygian and Dan lock up. It cuts to Stygian pounding on Dan in the corner and then lifting him up in a hanging vertical suplex, holding him up for what seems like forever, and dropping him to the mat. Then Stygian catches Dan leaping off the ropes and hits the front fallaway slam. After that we see Dan being Banebladed off the side of the ring, through a double-stack of flaming, barb-wired tables and then he’s carted off on a stretcher. Then the video switches to Stygian and Chuck Matthews squaring off and trading punches, before it cuts to Stygian Snake-Eyes-ing Chuck and then hitting Day of the Dragon on him. Then it shows Stygian beating down Chuck with a pair of short-arm clotheslines and then flipping him over with a huge charging clothesline. The final little clip of this highlight reel ends with Chuck trying to bulldog Stygian out of the corner, stumbling and eating a Spartan Kick when he turns around. Then Chuck is lifted, dropped with the Baneblade and the referee counts to three. As Stygian celebrates the win with Lilith an Lilah, the video slows down to slow motion and Stygian is heard again.

Stygian: [voiceover] The one thing that I’ve learned about this business is true more than anything else: it isn’t how you’ve won, but who you’ve beaten. Brandon MacDonald once said about me publicly, “…until he shows me that he can beat some of the best, I'm going with a guy I know is one of the best…” Well, Brandon…4 former World Champions, two former High Impact Champions—one who I’m responsible for tagging that “former” on to, a former New Blood Champion, two members of Upper Limit, have I shown you enough yet? Are you ready to take me seriously, yet?

A subtitle on the screen tells us this is Peterson Air Force Base. Wikipedia tells us said base is outside of Colorado Springs, Colorado. Stygian tells us he went to school there, at the Air Force Academy. Our heroes find themselves inside one of the machine shops of the base, walking through the rows of machine tools plugged into the walls and safety-locked. Lilith and Lilah are dressed in classic bomber jackets unzipped just low enough to reveal a nearly indecent amount of cleavage, and jeans. Stygian wears a black flight jacket with a Lieutenant’s bar on each sleeve and a name patch with an Air Force Falcon which reads “Capt. Gabriel” on the left side of the upper chest. The three of them wander through the nearly deserted shop until they come across a man in dark blue coveralls talking to four or five others. Stygian clears his throat and starts talking in a dorky voice.

Stygian: Excuse me, Major Denton, sir, I couldn’t find blinker fluid or winter air for tires.

The young men before the captain laugh, the captain himself hangs his head yet doesn’t turn around.

Major Denton: Gabriel, you son of a bitch…The captain cracks an easy smile and shakes his head. He turns back to his giggling charges. And just who the fuck told you to laugh? They all fall silent and snap to attention. It’s kind of funny that this man would chose this moment to show up. Airmen, over the next two weeks you will be learning ins and outs of the XQ-44 Skybreaker…

Stygian looks at the girls and mouths “Skybreaker?”, neither of them seem to know why.

Major Denton: …meet the man who designed it.

The men all turn 45 degrees and stare intently at Stygian. He waves, albeit, a little nervously.

Major Denton: Now, you guys have about eight hours of prep-time so the AM crew can hopefully take her up if this storm backs off a little. DISMISSED!

The men snap off a salute and file through a door into an adjacent hanger. Stygian turns to Lilith and Lilah.

Stygian: Stay here, this is probably classified.

Major Denton: I should make you do the same, but I guess you already all the secrets of it.

Stygian blows him off and looks inside the door.

Stygian: Holy shit! You actually built the Skybreaker?

Major Denton: A viable, unmanned, long range air-superiority platform? You’re damn right we did.

Stygian: If it’s so great, why are you just now prototyping?

Major Denton: Because, well…he shrugs…we didn’t have you. DARPA looked at it and none of the people could make sense of half of the math involved, fuck, it took a team of six men four months to figure out how that magnetic glide drive worked. They kept waiting for you to land in the private sector to hand the project off to whatever contractor you landed with. When you went to Japan they co-opted the project to Lockheed-Martin. It took their people and our people three years to figure out all the bells and whistles just so we could run simulations and small-scale testing. It was like decoding the Zodiac Killer. If you’d have stayed another year, this thing could be deployed by now.

Stygian shrugs. The he looks at the girls, both of whom are standing by with a look that suggest they are both lost in the conversation. It’s not a new experience to see this look on Lilah’s face, but it seems a bit out of place on Lilith’s. Stygian steps back between them.

Stygian: Steve, you and Tina know each other.

Major Denton: Of course, we met at the wedding.

Stygian: Amber, meet Major Steve Denton. We were roommates and we worked together at Mojave.

Major Denton: And Area 51.

Stygian: He never fails to mention that.

Major Denton: Dude, we worked at Area 51! What the hell has Brandon MacDonald done that’s even close to as cool as that?

Stygian: I see you’ve been keeping up with my career?

Major Denton: Of course! We’re getting together to watch Rising Monarchy this weekend.

Stygian: You flatter me.

Major Denton: You’re fun to watch. Seriously though, undefeated in UFC, eleven straight wins, talk show on NBC…none of that is as cool as saying you lived at Area 51.

Stygian: You’re probably right. Of course, don’t go saying that around the IWF locker room. You have to understand the typical IWF wrestler. They really aren’t particularly interesting in and of themselves. Most of these guys never learned how to cut a real promo, and they don’t have a lot of personality. They aren’t natural speakers, so they surround themselves with interesting people to create the illusion that they themselves are interesting. That’s why…Stygian digs into his coat pockets, pulling out his phone and flipping it open. He tabs around over to Twitter and brinks up Brandon MacDonald’s page…that’s why Brandon MacDonald—if all these people tagging him on Twitter saying they saw him there are accurate—is in Honolulu at the Pro Bowl. He’s probably going to trot out all these famous NFL players and have them talk him up because Brandon MacDonald can’t do what I do. He can’t just get in front of a camera and talk. If he did, people would snore. Brandon MacDonald has no personality of his own, that’s why he doesn’t’ host that show solo, he has his porn star girlfriend, because she’s interesting. That’s why he’s always having all these cameos in his promos, because he’s at least figured it out; he’s not interesting. He surrounds himself by people and things which are interesting to make up for it.

Major Denton: Says a guy who called an old friend because he wanted to use an F-15 for his video.

Stygian: It serves a point. Besides, I have to shoot it somewhere. It’s a lot less shameless to call some old friends in the Air Force to use a plane as a backdrop than it is to go rub elbows with famous people to make up for that fact that I have the oratory skills of a paper bag. That said, do you have those Eagles?

Major Denton: Yeah, I’ve got some 15’s out behind hanger 2. I also have five 22’s on runway 2, the storm forced them down. The pilots are crashed out. If you want to head out there before the snow gets worse, you can use them instead.

Stygian: Raptors? Hell yes.

Major Denton: Alright, then you have to bring your footage back here.

Lilith: Why is that?

Major Denton: Because there are parts of the F-22 which are still classified. Jason knows what I’m talking about, I’m sure I won’t have to cut anything, but I have to be sure.

Stygian: No problems, Steve. We’ll be back in a bit.


The snow is falling in heavy fat flakes that float lazily to the ground on the swirling wind. It’s dark out on this runway, in this storm. Faintly visible are the silhouettes of five F-22 Raptors side by side. A tall shadow stands on the middle plane, flanked by two shorter figures. Suddenly a spot light lights the planes and lights the whole area up. Stygian is, probably unsurprisingly, the figure atop the plane and the girls in their tight, half-zipped bomber jackets flank him.

Lilah: Are you sure we can stand up here like this? Like, won’t we break it or something?

Stygian: Lilah, this is a next-generation fighter jet. It’s meant to withstand the force of 15G’s.

Lilah: Yeah but I’m 34G, and Lil is 34FF, we’re way more than 15G!

Stygian facepalms, Lilith laughs.

Lilith: I’ll take this one?

Stygian: I think you’d better.

Lilith: Alight.

Lilith crosses behind Stygian and puts her arm around Lilah.

Lilith: Lilah, sweetie, G, in this case means the force of Earth’s gravity.

Lilah: And not our boobs?

Lilith: Not our boobs. Why would they care about how big someone’s boobs were when making an airplane?

Lilah: Cause they used to paint women on them!

Stygian: Lilah that was on B-17’s during World War 2.

Lilith: I actually don’t know why they quit that. I think it’d be awesome. How cool would we look air-brushed on the wings of one of these?

Stygian: That actually would be cool. But, never mind that. What Lilith is trying to tell you, Lilah, is that this aircraft has to withstand 15 times its own weight during aerial maneuvers. Now I don’t know what this weighs offhand…

Lilah: Empty or loaded?

Stygian: Does it matter?

Lilah: Empty it’s 43,430 pounds. Fully armed it’s 64,460 pounds. Max takeoff weight is 83,500 pounds.

Lilith: Lilah’s Paradox: Lilah doesn’t know anything unless she knows everything…

Stygian: Okay, that last one is roughly 42 tons. 42 times 15 is…630?

Lilith: Don’t look at me; I was a lit major for a reason. You’re the engineer.

Stygian: I think it’s 630.

Lilah: That sounds right.

Stygian: Alright then, this thing is built to withstand the gravitational force of 630 tons, I think we’re just fine standing on it. I’m a big man, and the two of you have big boobs, but I don’t think we’re adding 630 tons to this aircraft. Alright?

Lilah: Yeah, that makes sense.

Stygian turns and faces the camera once more, Lilith and Lilah move back to flanking him. Stygian makes a sweeping gesture to the five aircraft.

Stygian: Aren’t they beautiful, Brandon? What did you do? Go get more famous people to look credible? To remind people that you’re famous? You ever notice you have to seek those people out? Outside of the context of your little show, these people don’t come to you? You ever notice that you have to go to them? You’re like that guy they give the bogus address for the party to and you somehow find out where the real party is and show up anyway. These people don’t really want to see you, they don’t really want to be seen with you, you just keep showing up and because they might want to be on your crappy little talk show to promote some movie or album at a later time; they don’t alienate you. Don’t you see? You’re Stiffler, Brandon. Well, no, you’re not Stiffler. He was entertaining. But you’re the guy with the right kinds of connections, so these people tolerate your presence in small doses. They suffer you because they might want something from you, not because they want to be around you.

Stygian: Who would want to be around you, Brandon? I mean, by choice. You have five facial expressions, the same four jokes you always fuck up the punch line on. I don’t understand it Brandon. I don’t understand why you’re so beloved around here. These fans, they go nuts for you. They go nuts for you and conveniently turn a blind eye to the fact that, for the most part, you’ve back-stabbed and hood-winked your way to the top. You’ve used the fact that you helped build this place to always position yourself in the best places. Top seed in the Battle for the Briefcase tournament? Done. Win the title and hand-pick your opponents to set a record for title defenses? Done. And anytime anyone tries to challenge you, to call you out on your bullshit…you lean back on two things: one, you helped found the company. And two, your UFC career. You lean back on that UFC career like it’s impressive. You beat this guy, you beat that guy…Christ, I look at the list of guys you’ve beaten and it seems so improbable…that ti seems like some kid is writing himself into an MMA fan fic from the dorm room of a community college in Nebraska or some shit. But apparently you did all of this, and somehow you think it’s impressive. You beat Chuck Liddell…and you did it at a time when everyone else was doing it. Chuck never won another fight, and he retired. Well done. You beat Lyoto Machida? Yeah, all you have to do is quit following him around and make him come after you. He sucks as an aggressor. You spent months figuring out the same strategy that most of us have known since beating Metal Man on Mega Man 2. Rashad Evans? Three of Evan’s last five fights have been against guys in their decline, he lost to one of the guys who wasn’t past it, and he didn’t finish any of the others before the third round. Hell, he didn’t finish two of them. You know, it seems like you cherry-picked your UFC opponents the way you’ve picked your IWF opponents. You picked guys for who the fans thought they were, because you knew who they were.

Stygian: You know, at my most arrogant, if I’m really feeling it, if I’m really on my game I will use this old throwaway line of mine, I always used to joke that I would fight any man from any combat sport anywhere. I’d add that I didn’t care if they came from a ring with four sides, six sides or eight sides. Of course it was as much bullshit as bravado. Nobody from a four sided ring wants to take me on. The six sided ring got phased out. And there’s no way Dana White, who historically hates pro wrestling, would let any of his prized horses into a match with anyone from the “lowly” sport of pro wrestling. So I said something I rather knew I’d never have to back up. But I always thought I could if the occasion called for it. That’s who I’ve been, Brandon. It’s who I’ve always been. I may have insulted people. I may have sucker-punched them. I may have taken short cuts. I may have run end-arounds. Hell I even broke a guy’s arm before a match once. But I’ve never backed down from anyone, and I’ve never had to hire heavies to do my dirty work. I’ve had my flesh flayed to the bone by barb wire. I’ve been lit on fire. I’ve lost enough blood to make an anime character squeamish. I’ve been assaulted with chairs, two-by-fours, bats, kendo sticks and chains. I’ve been put through enough tables that I think I own part of Ikea. But I have never backed down from anyone. I have never hidden behind anyone. I would have never taken that belt you’re carrying the way you did.

Stygian: Let’s be honest, Brandon. I know Upper Limit isn’t too big on honesty, because if you guys were, you’d have to admit that you were the top dogs of a promotion that went under. Now I know NLWF was rotten to the core, but even a lousy company can stay afloat if people are paying money into it: look at Wal Mart! But enough about that, I’d rather not talk about NLWF, but you guys pop off about it every chance you get, because it’s the only place any of you were relevant. Do you think the empty faces and empty people you surround yourselves with on you talk show make you relevant? Do you think someone seeing you at a bar with Clay Matthews makes you relevant? Do you think the IWF title makes you relevant? Do you think because people recognize your face staring down at them from a billboard, advertising some energy supplement or sports drink as they make their way to work makes you relevant? Do you think that little cheer the fans give cause they hear your crappy entrance music, and it is crappy. Skrillex? Don’t get me wrong, Skrillex might be popular right now, and only right now, but that piece of shit you picked? It doesn’t really start off with a bang. There’s a Bill Simmons article you gotta read sometime. Someone showed it to me, it’s about good entrance music. He lines out about five different rules you should follow for entrance music, that piece of shit you walk out to breaks, or, all of them. It starts with this noise, I’m not sure what it sounds like…

Lilah: A plunger!

Lilith: Being run through a synthesizer.

Stygian: Yeah, this robot plunger, what the fuck did he record this song with, a Dalek?

Lilith: EX-TERM-IN-AAAAAAAAAAAAAATE!

Stygian: So we have a Dalek plunger, and then I think it’s the voice of that little creature that used to be on the Punky Brewster show, you remember that little magical thing that lived under her bed? What the fuck was that thing called?

Lilith: Are we talking about the animated series or the live-action sitcom?

Stygian: The animated series, unless he was in the sitcom, too?

Lilith: I don’t think he was.

Stygian: But you know who I’m talking about?

Lilith: Yeah, he was this…leprechaun…squirrel…thing…

Stygian and Lilith both turn to Lilah expectantly.

Lilah: …what?

Lilith: This is usually the point where you pop off with the right answer and we both sit here with “how the fuck did she do that” looks on our faces.

Lilah: I was too young for Punky Brewster.

Lilith: Oh yeah. You weren’t born til it was over.

Stygian: You never saw it in syndication?

Lilah shakes her head.

Stygian: Okay, forget that idea then. This voice on that piece of shit song of your Brandon, it sounds like…you know who it sounds like?

Lilith: Besides the magical leprechaun rodent whose name eludes us at the moment?

Stygian: Yeah. It sounds like the little wizard thing off of He-Man!

Lilah: Orko!

Stygian: Yeah, Orko!

Lilith: You’re too young for Punky, but you remember He Man?

Lilah: It was on “Cartoon Express”, between She-Ra and G.I. Joe.

Lilith: That makes sense.

Stygian: So we go from a Dalek fixing a stopped-up toilet, to Orko greeting his friends and imploring them to play Rock And Roll…and then we have a bunch of noise that sounds like someone playing a keyboard with a drill, only it doesn’t sound cool, like Eddie Van Halen playing his guitar with a drill in “Poundcake”, it sounds like someone giving R2D2 a colonoscopy without the benefit of lube. It’s certainly not “rock and roll” and to even have those two words in that song is an affront to everything that rock and roll ever was or will be.

Lilah: It’s only rock and roll?

Stygian: Only rock and…only…

Lilith: Oh shit, here he goes…

Stygian turns to Lilah and waggles his finger at her, punctuating his exclamations quite vociferously.

Stygian: If I could stick my pen in my heart, I would spill it all over the stage! Would it satisfy ya? Would it slide on by ya? Would you think the boy is strange? Ain't he strange?

Lilah: What the fuck…

Stygian: If I could stick a knife in my heart; suicide right on stage…Would it be enough for your teenage lust? Would it help to ease the pain? Ease your brain?

Lilah: What the hell are you talking about?

Stygian: What I’m trying to say is that I know it’s “only rock and roll” but I LIKE IT! I LIKE IT! YES I DO! And I will not have some guy sodomizing robots with sharp objects and comparing it to real music. It’s not real music and it sure as hell isn’t entrance music, but like everything else about Brandon MacDonald’s career, the stupid fucking fans lift it up as something better than it ever was or will be.

Lilah: Okay, sheesh, camera’s that way.

Stygian turns back to the camera and takes a breath, Lilith and Lilah whisper behind his back.

Lilah: [whispering] What the hell was that?

Lilith: [whispering] Have you ever looked through his iPod?

Lilah: [whispering] Yeah, it’s all metal and stuff.

Lilith: [whispering] And where did metal come from?

Lilah: [whispering] Rock?

Lilith: [whispering] Exactly. Without Les Paul, there’d have been no Chuck Berry. Without Chuck Berry, no Beatles, Stones, Who or Led Zeppelin. Without them, no Black Sabbath or KISS. Without Sabbath no Maiden and no Priest on and on til you have no Edguy, no Dragonforce, no Avantasia and no Jorn Lande.

Lilah: [whispering] So without rock, 7/8ths of Jason iPod doesn’t exist?

Lilith: [whispering] Pretty much.

Lilah: [whispering] Oh, I see.

Stygian takes a deep breath and nods into the camera.

Stygian: I don’t get it Brandon, the way these people love you. I think…I think it’s because from a very early point in your career you realized the value of crafting your image. You realized it in UFC, when you won the title from an ailing Chuck Liddell, who ultimately proved to be done with his career and in his decline when he faced you. You picked all of these names that the fans thought were tough competitors, but you knew they weren’t. You fought men you knew would look good on your resume, but whom you knew wouldn’t really challenge you. You got to call yourself a champion and hold up a belt, but you hadn’t truly earned anything. And do you know how I know that? Because I don’t see you going anywhere near Jon Jones, bitch. You know he’d wreck you and ruin your reputation. How many rounds do you last against JJ? I’m willing to bet you don’t get out of the first round.

Stygian: People call you the best professional wrestler in the world. You know what? People have called me that. We get to find out, and that’s what I love about this sport, this business. There’s no bullshit arbitrary hoops to jump through. There’s no committee sitting on high deciding the fates of the men spilling blood on the canvas. It’s better than any combat sport in the world. It’s better than boxing where the biggest fight in the world is in danger of not happening because the two sides can’t agree on drug testing or venue location. It’s better than MMA where the best man doesn’t always win because a fluke shot to the head can end someone’s day. This is the best combat sport in the world because eventually talent wins out. Boxing, MMA? Every now and then the fluke happens. Buster Douglas, Gabriel Gonzaga…flukes. But that doesn’t happen in professional wrestling. The better man wins out. And you can hide for only so long. You can cash in on intangibles and wildcards from time to time, like you did to win the title.

Stygian: I’ve been party to a lot of shady deals in pro wrestling. Hey, let’s face it, wrestling isn’t any better than any other sport where men get together and beat the hell out of one another for a living. There’s a lot of testosterone, a lot of money changing hands and a lot of egos dueling. So I’ve seen my share of sketchy characters and pathetic backstabs in my time. But I haven’t seen anything more pathetic than your conduct at Violent Impulse. I’m not talking about the ladder match, you won that honestly. You came by that briefcase fair and square. But the way you cashed it in? The whole display? It was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen The Ninja in the ring. Where do I start, Brandon? Where do I? How about we start with the fact that a new champion was actually and legitimately crowned that night. Robbie Hart come out and destroyed Vincent Van Rose! Just fucking worked him over to become champion, and while he was there, celebrating what should have been the greatest moment of his professional life, what happens? I’ll tell you what happens. I don’t have to tell you, because you orchestrated the whole thing, but I just want everyone to realize how pathetic this whole thing is. First your then-fiancé—who you were such a man, she went on to be a carpet-muncher—leads out a pair of, who the fuck were those guys? They looked like those gang-bangers who got signed to be offensive linemen in The Replacements. Anyway, your whore ex-fiancé leads out these two heavies who beat the living shit out of Robbie Hart. They beat him like he owes them money. If fact, not knowing who Ashley was back then, I thought maybe Robbie owed her money the way those two guys were beating on him. But I mean they came out and the three of them just destroyed Robbie Hart. And then, when Robbie was fully immobilized, when he was lying on the mat in a broken, bleeding heap of humanity…then and only then…and only then did we get to hear the Dalek plunger and you came out. Like a coward. Like a thief in the night. You came out like Commodus in Gladiator, after Maximus had been beaten up, tied up and stabbed in the back, you came out to claim Robbie Hart. Unfortunately for Robbie Hart, he’s no Maximus. He’s only a man. He’s a man and he was beaten. When you were good and sure of it, you cashed in your briefcase and took the title. Like a coward, because you…are…a…COWARD!

Stygian: This is why when the time came to pick the stipulation, I put a lot of thought into it. I thought long about what form the match should take. I thought hard about what form the match should take. And I decided to but action to where Upper Limit has only placed words. Ever since you got your little boy band together, you have been going on and on about the people who don’t deserve to be here. You were looking in a camera when you should have been looking in a mirror. You’ve never done anything in a wrestling ring that deserves my respect Brandon. You held six titles in NLWF at one time? You know what one man holding six titles in one company tells me? It tells me one of two things is true, at least one, usually both of them is true. Usually it means the company has too many belts, and it means the talent pool is too diluted down to keep anyone with half an ounce of ability from winning multiple belts at one time. I think as we see what’s happened to most of the top half of NLWF’s roster after the company collapsed; we realize that both things were true about NLWF. So those six titles? They mean shit to me. If I’d been in NWLF I’d have had them all. If I hadn’t had to trade in the High Impact title for this opportunity, we all no nobody was going to beat me for it. Hell I might have grabbed the New Blood title just because I could. Hell I probably would have grabbed Hawk’s little half a broken ass, Banebladed him in the middle of the ring and taken his Christmas Lights Championship. Why? Because I can. This is what happens when you prove you’re the best wrestler in the world, Brandon. Not when you just pay your friends to say it on camera.

Stygian: When the time came to pick the stipulation for this match, when the time came to name it, I finally realized what it had to be. You see for all the things I could have done, for all the things the smart money says I should have done; I realized there was only one choice. I’m sure some expected me to pick a casket match, because of my time in Japan. I do love the finality of locking someone in a coffin, but I didn’t want that. A lot of people suggested I should ask for some kind of structure; a cage or cell. Why? Well to keep the rest of Upper Limit out of the proceedings. But let’s be honest, Upper Limit? They don’t scare me. You have a move called “Scary Monster’s and Stuff”? I am a scary monster! Forget all the rest. Forget demons, forget vampires, forget werewolves, I know what the scariest fucking monster of them all is. Brainless gravelings, horrors from the ether, sparking tween sex-symbols with bad teeth, and hirsute canines with ripped torsos are no match for the fury of a high-flying, fire-breathing, village-destroying black dragon. It’s no contest. If you’re picking sides for a war and you have the first pick? You’re taking the dragon. So do you really think Corey Casey and the cast of “Two and a Half Men” scares me? What is Upper Limit going to do to me? James Shark comes after me? I put him through another table. Ruben Ricardo Leon stick his nose in, I kick his ass again. Robbie Hart wants a piece? I give him the kind of beating that makes him long for the loving arms of your heavies! And Corey Casey? Corey Casey wants no part of me. That’s why he made you be the referee. I’ve already had Upper Limit try to screw me once, I beat down their chosen delegate and made “the best wrestler in the world” count him out. Upper Limit is more than welcome to stick their noses into this, I’ll just humiliate them all collectively the way I’ve humiliated most of them individually. Maybe after it’s all over I’ll whip out my cock and finish off on Keegan’s face the same way just about every other man she’s ever been on camera ever has!

Stygian: You need to go because you disgust me, Brandon. You need to retire because you’ve been walking around the back and telling the whole world that there are people who don’t deserve to be in the IWF and then you’ve been coming down to the ring and showing everyone that you’re one of them. You’re nothing but a coward. The way you hired thugs to mug Robbie Hart and cashed in your briefcase? The act of a coward! The way you took down Robbie Hart in the rematch, probably knowing then that he was going to come back under Upper Limit in six weeks anyway? Act of a coward. The way you used your influence to get Steel Angel into the ring with you, in your hand-picked match? Act of a coward. Steel Angel will be a star someday, but he’s not one now. Those ten wins in a row? Most of them were against guys who’ll be bagging groceries in a few weeks. It was a lot of luck and a little guile that got Steel Angel those ten wins in a row. You knew that, and just the way you bent Dana White’s ear to get easy fights against has-beens and never-weres, you got Steel Angel into that ring in a match you were pretty sure you couldn’t lose. You’re a coward Brandon. You’ve manipulate the perception of you with a bunch of high-profile wins in two sports that look impressive, but those of us in the know? We know the truth.

Stygian: I’m going to expose you, Brandon. I don’t care how many of your friends you throw at me. I don’t care if you reach for weapons. I don’t care if you bring back the starting NCF Defense from the pro bowl. Hide behind as many as you like Brandon. You can’t hide from me. These fans, they think you’re the greatest wrestler in the world. Your friends, Carmine, Corey, Keegan; they all tell us over and over again that you’re “the best wrestler in the world”. But I’ve seen through you from the moment I got here. Being called the best is so much more important to you than earning the right to be called the best. So you cash in briefcases and lure young guys hungry for gold into matches they have no business being in and no chance of winning. That’s what you’ve been done to be called “the best wrestler in the world.” Me? I’ve just destroyed everyone who’s ever gotten in my way. Tim Patrick. Tyson Rowle. James Shark. Dan Alexander. Ruben Ricardo Leon. Chuck Matthews. You refused to take me seriously until I had names on my resume that you felt were worth mentioning.

Stygian: Upper Limit has entered into an arms race. Why? I don’t know. I haven’t understood any of what Upper Limit has done. I didn’t understand it when it was Chuck Matthews shaving his head and making wolf noises and calling it Apex. I didn’t understand it when you guys trotted out the Cake Boss and had him go on about the guys “from the old place” and finally getting the “respect they deserve”. I don’t understand what it’s doing now. I don’t understand recruiting Robbie Hart and James Shark, who’ve done nothing but lose all of the high-profile matches they’ve been involved with lately. I don’t know what they’re going to do when you’re retired. Because you’re going to be retired. That’s the downside of owning part of IWF, you can’t go anywhere else. It raises monopoly and conflict of interest issues. What do you do? Do you go back to UFC and get your ass kicked by Jon Jones? It would be fitting. First you get beat by the real best wrestler in the world, and then you lose to the best fighter in the division. Then what? Throw your weight into you talk show? Hey, Brandon, I’ve seen your talk show…it’s not going to be on NBC much longer. Even NBC cancels shitty shows eventually. What do you have left? I don’t care.

Stygian: You know the only thing Upper Limit really did? It didn’t dominate the company. You’re the only one who brought any gold to it. It didn’t get IWF by the balls. All it’s really accomplished is getting Rick Christian and Corey Casey into a pissing contest that can only lead to a sloppy match where a trained wrestler lures a man who makes his living in a suit and tie signing papers and destroys him. So I’m not clear on what the function or purpose of Upper Limit is supposed to be. All it did do? It highlighted everything that was wrong with this company and put it center stage. It said “these are the guys who need to be removed for the company to move forward.” All of the people who cling to the edifice of a decadent past. Cling to the shadow of NLWF the respect they feel they deserve for what they did there. All Upper Limit did was say “these are the guys holding this company back.” You and the rest have validated every word I’ve said about this company since I got here. All Upper Limit has done? Is to justify the Black Crusade. It’s a bunch of guys who want something for nothing simply because they were hot shit at a company that nose-dived into the ground. And for a time it worked. But finally? Finally the flag-bearer for IWF is face to face with a monster who isn’t impressed with his past or afraid of his minions. Nothing you could do, nothing you could say can scare me. The great Brandon MacDonald was built with smoke and mirrors on pillars of sand.

Stygian: Where you are, and where I am? They say something about us both. You’re out having fun in the sun and rubbing elbows with the NFL stars. You’re trying to remind the world that you are famous and you do cool things and hang out with stars. I am here, sixteen miles from where I went to college and learned to serve my country. Where I learned about courage, and honor. Where I learned dedication and discipline. Courage, honor, dedication and discipline…that I possess these qualities and you do not. That’s why I am walking out of Rising Monarchy as the new IWF champion, and you are walking out without a job. I’m taking IWF’s Crown and assuming my place on its golden throne, and all who wrestle in this company will recognize me as their new king. All will bend the knee…or I will destroy them.

Stygian reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small remote and clicks a button. The spot lights go out, leaving just the silhouette of the five planes and Stygian and the girls turns and walk towards the back of the planes, vanishing from site. The picture blanks out.