Facing The Darkness Within...
Apr 22, 2023 18:48:26 GMT -5
Ezra Gideon, "Cholo" Giovanni Santana, and 2 more like this
Post by Peter Vaughn on Apr 22, 2023 18:48:26 GMT -5
The last month has been a fairly rough ride for Peter Vaughn.
On top of the world in several federations, Vaughn found himself going on a bit of a losing streak over the last month. He lost his treasured TPW International Title to his own mentor & agent, Chris Page. He fell in the first round of the SCW Blast From The Past Tournament, once again failing to blend with a tag-team partner (although this one WAS pretty lame). Somehow, the streak was stopped in WGWF, as Vaughn was able to defend his WGWF World Heavyweight Title against the challenge of Mark Cross, slaying the Dragon and moving forward successfully as the top man in the federation.
But Vaughn hasn't really seemed the same since his recent struggles. In TPW, he's gone so far off the deep end that he's been suspended until the show's next PPV, where he'll be facing the owner of the fed, Terry Marshall. In SCW, he's found himself fighting to time limit draws against what he would consider lesser talent, getting several warnings from the referee for "going too far". And in the WGWF, he's set for his first action since the PPV, going against a slew of the best of the company... while he's still wondering about his own state of mind.
April 22nd, 2023
Voice: Alright, Mr. Vaughn. You know the "drill", hah, sorry, bad joke. Just open your mouth and say "Ahhhh".
~The camera slowly comes up on a shot of a dentist putting on a mask as he prepares for a dental procedure. He turns back, his gloves on as well, as he considers the man in front of him, sitting in the chair. The camera rotates, showing us a unique view of Peter Vaughn, seated, his mouth open as he stares up at the bright light above. The dentist steps in.~
Dentist: Let's see what else we can do here.
~The dentist reaches over, grabbing one of his tools out of a small pan he brought into the room, having sterilized them earlier. He then reaches into Vaughn's mouth, scratching around, with Vaughn clearly wincing more than once as he does his work.~
Dentist: Oops, well, your gums are bleeding a little bit, aren't they? Have you been flossing enough? Whatever you've been doing, I'd recommend you do it more, hah! Let's just get this one adjustment done and we'll have you on your way, right?
~The dentist laughs again, as he continues to work on Vaughn's mouth, doing, well, it's hard to tell exactly what he's doing from this angle. But Vaughn's hand can be seen, clenching and unclenching his hand as the work continues. The dentist, oblivious, steps away, turning towards the nurse.~
Dentist: Would you remind me later to make those reservations I mentioned to you? Thanks, nurse. Well, Mr. Vaughn, your teeth are remarkably in good shape, despite your violent career. Have you ever thought about maybe finding another path? It'd probably be better for your jaw line, hah!
~As the dentist continues to joke, Vaughn's hand reaches out, grabbing onto the small pan of tools. He lifts it up, even as the dentist turns back to him after making a note in the computer.~
Dentist: I've never understood why people want to beat the hell out of each other the way you...
~The pan lashes out, smashing the dentist in the jaw, sending him reeling back to the nearby sink counter. The nurse immediately screams, jumping away, as Vaughn pulls off the 'apron' on his chest and turns to the bleeding dentist, growling at him.~
Peter Vaughn: You think you're so high and mighty with your choices? You want to peer in people's mouths for a living, you freak!!
~Vaughn bashes away at the dentist again, who fruitlessly tries to protect himself. The nurse, still shrieking, runs out, yelling for help, as the beating continues. The pan comes down again... and again... and again... ~
Dentist: Mr. Vaughn? Mr. Vaughn, are you with me? Sir?
~Vaughn's eyes flutter into focus, as he sits up in the dental chair and looks around. He slowly turns to stare at the dentist, who looks very concerned.~
Peter Vaughn: Are... are we done already?
Dentist: Well... yes, Mr. Vaughn, we've finished up. I thought you were being a model patient until I told you it was time to get up. I must admit, I don't know that I've seen a reaction like that to the triazolam sedative before, although I've heard it's possible with some... patients. Do you think you can stand?
~After a second, Vaughn pulls himself upright, looking rather steady considering what just happened. He rubs at his mouth, which is probably a little sore, before turning back to the dentist.~
Peter Vaughn: I'm... sorry, Dr. Thompson. I didn't mean to worry you. I've been having some... late nights, lately. Maybe the sedative got affected by that.
Dentist: No problem. Mr. Vaughn. Don't worry about it. I've had much worse experiences here, believe you me. Look, just take it easy for today, okay? I'll see you in six months.
~The dentist pats him on the shoulder and turns away, as Vaughn watches him go... picturing him a blood-stained mess for a moment before he departs. He shakes his head clear, then steps out into the lobby, where the nurse is waiting.~
Nurse: Here's your appointment card, Mr. Vaughn. I, uh, put my own number on the back, in case you... need anything.
~The nurse smiles at Vaughn, but she's truly barking up the wrong tree, as Vaughn just absentmindedly puts the card in his pocket, nods, and walks out the door, leaving her behind, slightly miffed at the lack of reaction. If only she knew...~
Sometimes you have to spend some time wondering what drives you in this sport of ours.
For some, it's the need to get their hands dirty, to feel the blood rushing in their brains as they pound away on someone. For others, it's for the glory of the victories, the respect gained in battle, or the thrill of holding up a championship. Some, well, they just seem to have nowhere to go.
For me... I don't know if I can define it the same way anymore, now that I'm one of the most successful wrestlers in the world today. Maybe I'm looking for a new definition of what makes me fired up in this business.
Maybe that's why when Chris Page and James Raven mentioned to me a Battle Royal to determine team captains for War Games, I went ahead and signed on the dotted line, because I knew I'd be facing a large swath of the WGWF's best wrestlers. I'd have a way to test myself once again, and see what all of them bring to the table... if they bring anything at all.
It's my chance to see men like Jim Caedus, a wrestler whose career is inexorably linked to mine ever since I defeated him for the XWF Universal Title last year. I helped destroy his alliance of wrestlers known as the Apex. I took him down, removing the championship that he had stolen from ALIAS. And Caedus disappeared from the business for quite a while, until showing up here in the WGWF.
I wonder, how much does Caedus blame me for what happened to him? Is it as much as I blame him for the scorn and derision he brought to me? My victory over him should have been one of the greatest moments of my career, but all I heard after that is that I beat a broken man, and my title reign was a fluke and a stain on the history of the company. I've had to live with that for a year, Jimmy. And you know what? I've gotten over it.
I know you were going through some stuff, and I get it. A guy like me, soaring to the top the way I did, it's pretty tough to get over. So I forgive you for that, Jimmy. But if you think that means I'll leave you alone in the battle royal, you're completely wrong. I'd love the chance to score another victory over you, sending you flying from the ring and out of contention, unlikely to be chosen by either team.
It'd be fun to eliminate you twice.
Another 'old friend' in Mac Bane is in this one, and we've had our ups and downs in the profession, haven't we? We brawled here in the WGWF, while we teamed up in the Saviors in SCW. Sin City, yeah! And yet, you're another one, Mac, that's kind of let me down. I came into SCW and helped you become a champion, and then... you lost it. Sure, you got screwed, and you have every right to be pissed about it, but still... it made my efforts there feel... a little wasted. And now, here you are, thinking you're going to be taking me down and moving past me here in the WGWF, moving forward here. Well, Mac, I'm afraid I have a different future in mind for you.
You're going to falter, Mac. You're going to be sent out. Then maybe you can talk to someone like Cholo or Benson and get yourself a title shot that way. I mean, you won that little Prison Brawl match over Bam, so hey, maybe you can use that to get a TV Title shot. Good luck to you there, Mackwell.
Then we've got Fred Debonair, a CCPE member with endless potential. I'm still waiting to see it fully utilized here in the WGWF, but it could always happen... eventually. Of course, Freddy has his own issues right now with Jonathan Bacchus, which will probably end up costing him the match here anyway. I mean, you can't come into a battle royal and be distracted. You turn your head for one second, thinking you're seeing someone coming after you from the crowd or from the ramp, and some exploiting son of a bitch will take full advantage of that to take your head off and send you over the ropes.
And you know I'll be waiting for that moment from you, Freddy. Give me one moment to exploit, and your night will be over... just like everyone else will experience, once the World Champion is through with them.
~The day moves forward, as Vaughn has headed to the CCPE Headquarters branch here in Vaughn's city of Dallas. He takes a seat at the table in the small conference room, looking out at the view from the fourth floor of the building. It's not quite high enough to take advantage of the full skyline, but it's still a beautiful sight.~
Peter Vaughn: So you wanted to talk to me about what comes next, Chris?
~Vaughn turns his head towards the other side of the table, where "Chronic" Chris Page is sitting with a smile on his face. He's got a few secretaries behind him, taking notes, as the head of the CCPE sits forward on his chair.~
Chris Page: Look, Peter, I know it's been a bit of a struggle over the last month. You've been through the wringer. But the good news is, I firmly believe you've come out on the other side in extremely good shape. You proved Cross that you were deserving of the World Championship, didn't you? And you've got some great matches coming your way soon enough.
Peter Vaughn: Uh huh... any word on my legal maneuvers for TPW?
Chris Page: Oh, we're working on all of that, too, Peter, trust me. But you really need to stop going after Terry Marshall if you want that position back over there.
Peter Vaughn: He's deserved every minute of it.
Chris Page: Nonetheless, Peter, we may need to start working on alternatives there. I've got a few ideas, a few people I can contact. There are many paths to making you an even larger superstar than ever before. Isn't that what you want?
Peter Vaughn: You know it is, Chris. You know I want people to consider me one of the most dangerous and dominant wrestlers on the planet. But... don't they already think that?
~Page shrugs, turning away to grab a folder from one of the secretaries.~
Chris Page: Sure, you're on your way, Peter, but you're not there yet. I mean, you want to be on my level, don't you? We can get you there, though, don't worry...
~As Page pulls out a few contracts, apparently for Vaughn to look over, Vaughn stands up and turns to the window, looking through it.~
Peter Vaughn: Sure is a beautiful afternoon out there, isn't it?
Chris Page: Is it? I hadn't really noticed... now, Peter, if you'd go ahead and read this...
~As Page steps over to the window to join Vaughn, he suddenly turns, heaving the vase he had just picked up, smashing it into Page's forehead!!! Page, stunned, slumps to the ground, as the secretaries all jump away, stunned by what just happened. Page struggles to get back up, but Vaughn grabs him by the head, slamming him several times into the table!!~
Peter Vaughn: On your level?? ON YOUR LEVEL?? YOU TOOK MY CHAMPIONSHIP FROM ME, YOU AND TERRY MARSHALL!! AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN HANG ONTO IT AFTERWARDS!!! I HATE YOU, CHRIS!!! I HATE YOU!!!!
~Vaughn turns towards the windows, hauling up the dazed Page, and rushing them both forward. Before Page can stop their momentum, both men slam into the nearby window... shattering it as they fly through. The screams are now heard from inside the room as the two men plummet, arm-in-arm, towards the concrete below...~
Chris Page: Peter? Am I boring you? Peter?
~Page waves his hand in front of Peter Vaughn's face, causing him to start. He looks up at Page in utter confusion for a moment, before shaking his head.~
Chris Page: You were really out of it, there, Peter. I know the paperwork is boring, but it's necessary...
~Vaughn looks around the room, including at the unbroken window next door... which appears to be on the first floor, judging from the cars parked outside. Vaughn glances to his left, noting that only he and Page are in this room. There's no sign of any secretaries.~
Peter Vaughn: I, ummm... yeah, I'm okay... I had this dental procedure earlier today, and... I guess I'm still a little loopy from it.
Chris Page: Say no more. I'll have a car brought around immediately to take you home.
Peter Vaughn: That's not necessary. I can...
Chris Page: Nonsense. You don't need to be driving like this. We'll talk again soon, let's just get your head straight, okay?
~Page walks way, as Vaughn again turns to the window, puzzling over how he had even changed the height of the room in his delusion. It's been a strange day. We cut away.~
You ever wonder what secrets are lurking in your own heart, secrets that you yourself might not know about?
I wonder about that for some of the people in the battle royal. People like Big Pun, who was stupid enough to allow Benson to take away his name, his title, and so much more. She'd probably amputate him down there if she got the chance, I mean, she's tried before, from what I hear. What drives "Big Pun" into being such a Big Joke?
Then there are people like Spencer Adams, a complete egotistical bastard who thinks that his appearance in the WGWF was worth a bunch of vignettes and time. Here in my fed, Spence, we like to see someone actually matter before they get to parade around like a success. I mean, look at J Mont, and his losing streak here. Don't be like J Mont, Spence. Be better than him. Even if you DO have a short night in the battle royal.
How about Lexi Gold, a woman who I think could be a top contender in every federation she's in, only for her to continually miss her opportunities. That lack of focus has been costly in some places, Lexi. I mean, what's the point in competing everywhere if you keep coming up as Lexi Silver, not Gold? I want to see you succeed, Lex, don't get me wrong, but it's going to take some more than snake love and snickers to get there.
Then there's Krow.
Who the fuck is Krow?
Why do they spell their name like that? It's Crow. CROW.
Damn lack of education in our learning systems nowadays.
Krow, if you're not the first man out of the battle royal, I'm going to be very disappointed. I really want to see if you can fly.
You and Damage, people obsessed with having one name, like Sting or Cher. There are better names out there, people. At least Damage spells his correctly, I'll give him that. But is it Damage done to other people? Damage done to yourself? Damage done late at night as you cry at your keyboard, having been denied another date from whatever singles app you're set up on?
What's all the damage about?
Truly, there are a lot of people in this one that I just don't see as captain material. Nobody would follow Spence. Nobody would believe in Krow. Nobody would trust Damage.
... People would probably follow Lexi, but only for sexist reasons, which is really a shame.
But me? They'd follow me... they'd follow me right into hell, and hell's likely where I'll be taking them.
~We're now outside the building where Vaughn and Page were meeting. Is it even a branch of CCPE headquarters? Vaughn doesn't know, as he doesn't see any signs anywhere. He's still looking a little dazed, trying to figure out what's going on in his head, as he walks out onto the street. Parked outside, we can see a shiny black limo, waiting for him. Vaughn shakes his head.~
Peter Vaughn: Overkill, Chris. Definitely overkill.
~Vaughn moves towards the limo, which is parked just down the street a ways. As Vaughn approaches, though, a homeless man rises up beside him, leaning his direction.~
Homeless Man: Excuse me, have you got any change? Sir?
~Still mostly lost in his own world, Vaughn barely takes any notice of the homeless man, walking right past him. This seems to anger the older man, as he staggers after him, seeing where he's headed.~
Homeless Man: Oh, really? You think you can just ignore me? You can just walk past me like I'm nothing? You rich son of a bitch, look at what you're driving?? You can't spare a measly little change to someone who needs it? You jackass! Are you listening to me??
~Vaughn doesn't turn back. He reaches the limo, where the driver is already out and opening the door. The driver is staring cautiously at the homeless man, watching him, as Vaughn goes to get inside. But the homeless man grabs him by the arm, managing to spin him around.~
Homeless Man: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??
~The man gets right in Vaughn's face... and he reacts, smashing the man with a headbutt!! The man staggers back, his nose busted open, stunned. Vaughn doesn't stop there, though, leaping up and grabbing him... giving the homeless man the REVENGED!! The man is down, not moving on the concrete, knocked unconscious. Vaughn gets to his feet, breathing heavily, as he takes in what he's done. People are already starting to come around, looking at what happened, staring at him. Vaughn looks over at the driver, who is in complete shock. Vaughn turns away, blinking rapidly.~
Peter Vaughn: C'mon, c'mon, c'mon...
~After a few more times blinking, Vaughn opens his eyes... and nothing has changed. The driver is calling for police and an ambulance. The crowd is still growing. Vaughn rubs at his head.~
Peter Vaughn: Well... shit.
~Vaughn stares down at the unconscious man as a siren can be heard in the distance. We cut out.~
Let's talk about the three most dangerous men left in the Battle Royal.
We've got Cholo and Mason, two men who are basically inseparable lately. I'm sure that'll make Cholo feel sick to his stomach, but hey, it's the truth. They've been attacking each other and costing each other matches for a month or two now. I'm sure that animosity is going to continue in the ring at Brawl, and you know what? Good for them.
Both of them are extremely dangerous. Both would probably make decent team leaders, even if Cholo would rather go to a party and Mason would rather get people killed. But the fact that they're going to be distracted is going to work pretty well for me, I think. They're just like Freddy and Big Pun, well, in a few ways, at least. They're going to make mistakes, fighting each other, and I plan to take full advantage of that fact.
Still, congrats on the title win, Cholo. I still remember our fun on the Tara Fenix cruise ship. Keep enjoying life for me.
The other guy who's dangerous is the gutless schmuck who entered themselves as the Mysterious Stranger, or whatever name they're using. Sad to see someone who's so cowardly that they don't want to give other wrestlers a chance to even prepare for them. But hey, I've beaten masked guys before. I've snapped necks of pretenders who thought they were being funny, keeping themselves concealed. You ever see what I did to Calypso?
The same is coming for you, unknown stranger.
Really, everyone in this battle royal should be coming into this with one thought in their minds: take out the World Champion. If they were all smart, they'd all come after me. They'd go to war against me, all against one. But you know what? None of them will think of that. They'll all go after everyone they have their own grudge with, everyone else they think is in their way. And one by one? I'll be tossing them all out.
In the end, someone will be standing with me, the fool given the fruitless chance of facing me in a team battle. But the rest? You're all going down. You're all taking the Plunge.
And it's going to be the West Coast Rumble all over again.
~We return once more to the scene of the attack, where Vaughn is currently talking with a grumpy-looking police officer.~
Peter Vaughn: ... and then he assaulted me, yelling in my face, and I had no choice but to act in self-defense. I didn't mean to hit him so hard, but it was kind of... instinctive, you know?
Police Officer: Lucky for you, son, a few witnesses have already told us similar things. So I'd say you're not getting arrested... for now. But we'll still need to stay in touch as all the details are worked out.
Peter Vaughn: Sure, sure, of course. How's he doing?
~Vaughn looks over at the homeless man, who's been put on a stretcher to be taken to the hospital as a precaution.~
Police Officer: Broken nose. Maybe a concussion. But I don't think it's too serious. Sad to see a war veteran end up like that.
~The officer shakes his head and walks away, as Vaughn moves towards the homeless man, taking in the fact that dog tags can be seen popping out of his collar. He walks over, as the homeless man turns his head slightly to glare at him. Vaughn takes a deep breath, then reaches into his pocket. He pulls out five $20 bills, dropping them on the man's chest.~
Peter Vaughn: ... At least you can't say I ignored you.
~Vaughn turns and walks away, as the homeless man contemplates the money on his chest as he's being loaded into the ambulance.~