Coming of Mayhem the more things change the more they stay the same, eh? I’m assuming the pacifiers weren’t passed out before the event because the whining and crying have been at an all-time high because this federation is still without a World Heavyweight Champion. I’ve been more than patient to take my throne to have to continue listening to the same old horse shit. I’ve earned my stripes by defeating every person that has been put in front of me with my only loss being a DQ in a tag match so many months back.
Nobody has made a louder statement.
Nobody can claim that they haven’t had a chance to shut their mouth because the last thing I’ve been to is hard to find. We know that we are just four short weeks away from a champion that legit gives a fuck, that hasn’t whined or cried, that hasn’t complained, that has done nothing but show up to work and leave you all sucking on the tip of my cock. Tastes good?
I’m not going to bother with The Excellence- they weren’t welcomed by TWC.
… just when I thought that things were well on their way to righting the ship within the IIW I’m met with a ghost from wrestling’s past. I don’t know what rock you crawled out from under but let me be the first to tell you this isn’t 2016 and I don’t run this show. I’d suggest you do a little homework before you ever try to step in the ring to box with God, again. Although I’d be lying if I didn’t say that if you do stick around if they do sign you to a contract that you don’t shit the bed. You only get one shot at the champ, make it count.
Again, if they sign you.
Can we talk about the double pin heard around the world? I mean, that is where all of the undivided attention seems to be resting; and rightfully so, I mean it was controversial, right? Or was it? We have two guys, well one in York’s case that starts the Chamber match and goes forty-plus minutes putting his body on the line versus a dude that enters late and can’t muster a shoulder raise on a German Suplex? What is the french fried titty fuck is going on within this scenario? Allow me to tell you. Exactly what NEEDED to happen, and alas we are on the cusp of a Triple Threat affair for the IIW World Heavyweight Championship. Fucking bring it! There isn’t anything I love more than the thrill of competition because we welcome it on all fronts. We aren’t the guys that bitch and moan about the situations for we are the guys that consistently make chicken salad out of all of YOUR chicken shit.
I am the one guy that MAKES you better.
I am the one guys that make you elevate yourself to a different level.
I am the one guy that DEMANDS your best.
I am the one guy that is the FACE of PROFESSIONAL Wrestling.
In just a month, the IIW is going to host its largest Pay-Per-View event of all time. Over one hundred thousand fans are going to jam pack MY HOMETOWN of the Motor City all watching, waiting, and anticipating the hometown boy to not only show up but finally crown a Champion that isn’t here today and gone tomorrow. We can hear your cries now… imagine how loud they’re going to be when I am sitting on the throne. It’s going to be music to my ears! But before we get there I’ve got a stop on my horizons on Monday Night that we might need to address. For the first time, you’re going to witness the pairing of Chris Page and Justin York. I’ll be the first to say that when I initially started in the IIW I wasn’t the biggest fan until I sat back and had to remember that everyone is looking for attention, and the fact he maintained mine, that he took the squared circle and did more with his time with me than anyone else before him, or after was enough to garner my respect. He continues to take every opportunity inside AND outside of the IIW while pretty much the rest of you sit in the same circle jerk.
Congrats to those that elected to take part in HIS show.
At least some of you are starting to learn about the bigger picture outside of the IIW umbrella. I feel like I should play “A Whole New World” from Disney’s The Little Mermaid because most of you are nothing more than children, to begin with. Now I’m looking forward to teaming with York because separately we’re pretty goddamn dangerous to any of you at any time… imagine how we’re going to be collective, at the same time we refuse to rest on our laurels; being Champions we don’t like to pull a Crush and selectively defend, and considering that we have been greenlit to Freebird the IIW Tag Titles I’ve elected to take it upon myself to put the IIW World Tag Team Championships on the line.
At least this way it makes me want to give a shit about wasting my time.
____________________________________
York’s Casino and Resort
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
“Fear and Loathing in Toronto, Ontario, Canada”
Featuring: Justin and Stacy York.
_____________________________________
The wrestling world continues to buzz as major moves and signings continue to take place in front of and behind the scenes throughout the profession. Since Mayhem last left the air, we’ve already witnessed Supershow announcements from both Chris Page and Justin York which is what has brought the face of professional wrestling to the great white north. Chris’s private jet touched down sometime just after noon where a limo was waiting at his runway. He has been whisked away and taken to York’s Casino and Resort.
The limo pulls up curbside where we find Justin York and his lovely wife Stacy eagerly waiting for his arrival. The chauffeur exits the driver’s side and makes his way to the back passenger side door and opens it. Stepping out of the limo in a black Gucci suit, minus a tie with his hair pulled back in a ponytail is the man that needs zero goddamn introduction.
JUSTIN YORK: Mr. Page, welcome to the most prestigious establishment this city has to offer. A pleasure to have you here if I do say so myself.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s fucking cold. My balls are shrinking as I speak…
Chris realizes Stacy is standing next to her man.
CHRIS PAGE: Stacy.
He states with a tip of the head before pivoting back to Justin.
CHRIS PAGE: So uh… are we going in or are these icicles of snot forming on the end of my nose?
Stacey smirks at Page's comment and lack of wherewithal of his surroundings.
STACY YORK: Way to backtrack from that well-thought-through remark, Page
CHRIS PAGE: Well, I’ve been having to deal with Hitmaker lately.
Justin bursts out in laughter at the remark about Shitmaker.
JUSTIN YORK: Why don't we get inside before you can't smell the sweet scent of that ganja you burn so religiously?
Justin points to the massive walkway of his casino and all three begin their way towards the entrance.
CHRIS PAGE: Proud of you for putting together this Night of the Main Events, it certainly looks like a strong card.
Chris casually states with the two-day event gaining so much traction in just a small amount of time. If anything it goes to show what else is out there within the realm of professional wrestling.
JUSTIN YORK: I appreciate the kind words brother but a lot of what's going on right now doesn’t happen without you... But wait it doesn’t matter because it's not in the IIW right?
CHRIS PAGE: Depends on who you ask, I suppose.
Stacey cackles at Page's underhanded remark.
JUSTIN YORK: You couldn't have hit the nail more on the head.
The three arrive at the top of the long walkway and stand in front of the massive doors before Stacey swings them open allowing both men to enter the large atrium. Upon inside you are hit with the sight of many gambling tables, slot machines, and strobe lights.
JUSTIN YORK: Welcome to floor one of my lucrative paradise.
CHRIS PAGE: I am so faded from the last adventure here. It’s all starting to come back to me.
JUSTIN YORK: Can I ask you a question though?
CHRIS PAGE: If it has anything to do with math the answer is no.
A condescending smirk graces Chris’s face while Justin simply shakes his head, there is a moment of silence before a sarcastic Page responds.
CHRIS PAGE: I’m guessing it was math related.
Justin chimes in.
JUSTIN YORK: NO!
CHRIS PAGE: Well goddamn kid, spit it out then!
JUSTIN YORK: Why SEB?
This is arguably one of the most asked questions that have been brought my way since Justin made the announcement late last week. Why would I want to get into the ring with one of my own? I’ll save you the drawn-out response and save it for when it matters while leaving you with at this juncture in my career it’s pretty fucking safe to say that I work against who I want to work against over who I’m TOLD to work against.
One day you might have that kind of stroke.
Probably not… but you can dream.
CHRIS PAGE: Duder, if I’m keeping it one hundred, I have my reasons.
JUSTIN YORK: Ah, a man of mystery. Fair enough… for now.
You never show all your cards… especially at a goddamn casino of all places.
STACEY YORK: Well gentlemen, this is about the point you go on your way. Just do me a favor and don’t drink away the profits like you did the last time you were here.
Stacey gives a sly grin and kisses her husband before departing as Chris slightly mutters under his breath.
CHRIS PAGE: No promises.
JUSTIN YORK: Well, what you’ve seen here is floors one to seven, why don't I show you some of the cool shit we have going on here, brother?
York directs Page to follow him to his elevator which he does. The two men jump on the elevator and Justin presses the button to go to floor twenty and mutters to himself with a chuckle.
JUSTIN YORK: ‘Straight to the top.’
Words that resonate with me since the day I laced a pair of boots. It’s not something that came overnight, it’s something that years of hard work and dedication to this profession. With Monday Night Mayhem coming in our direction, I think this is about as good of a time as any to completely fuck your world up as I officially welcome Justin York into mine. Say hey everyone Justin, don’t be rude.
He is thinking all of the same shit that I wanna say... Am I in your head Chris?
I’ve brought you into my world, my dimension… because ya know, they exist. Don’t be worried for you will be released. It’s a little weird at first, I know, but anything you say now will be heard by a stronger universe that pricks like Cav refuse to learn anything about.
What a mind fuck… Well... Hey everybody. Since I have the opportunity to say anything and be heard by a crowd with an IQ higher than ol Johnnie I want to kick off by saying, I’M FUCKIN BETTER THAN YOU! Who does that go out to? Well.. if the shoe fits..
Only those that bother to comprehend what an inner monolog is. Not everyone has the smarts to understand that these thoughts cut more to the quick than most will know, yet in a world full of chumps very few ascend to the top of the food chain. This is how you effectively work as a unit to deal with a spineless turd that should be worshipping the ground we walk on for giving him fourteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds of his fifteen minutes of man.
‘Effectively? Jesus Page, you can't use such big words when we’re facing off against people who have nothing between their ears but air and opportunity...
Ah, FUCK man! That’s not what I signed up for.
The elevator doors open up displaying a full renovation displaying what will be the grounds for Night of the Main Events.
Chris is instantly taken aback at the sheer quickness and effectiveness of the transformation that has taken place.
CHRIS PAGE: That was fast.
JUSTIN YORK: No rest for the weary, isn’t that something you always say eh?
No response from Chris as he politely extends the middle finger of his left hand; not his right, because the jab didn’t warrant the effort of giving him the GOOD finger.
JUSTIN YORK: I’ll take that as a compliment. Score one for York.
Chris lightly shakes his head as they walk off the elevator and take in the full surroundings of the upcoming event.
CHRIS PAGE: Ya know what’s funny?
JUSTIN YORK: What’s that?
Justin asks.
CHRIS PAGE: Ole Cav is partaking in this event, right?
JUSTIN YORK: Correct.
CHRIS PAGE: Likewise, so are several other IIW guys, correct?
JUSTIN YORK: Uh huh.
CHRIS PAGE: Funny how quickly things exist and when they don’t.
Chris reaches into the inner pocket of his sports coat where he pulls out a square stainless steel cigarette holder. He cracks it open revealing pre-rolled joints in place of smokes. Chris removes a hooter, closes the tin, and places it back in the inner pocket of his coat. York sees Chris putting the joint to his lips when Speedy Gonzalez’s zippo from his person strikes the flame before Chris can retrieve his lighter as he spouts out.
JUSTIN YORK: My guy!
Justin lights the joint as Chris takes a small toke to get it going. He inhales deeply before exhaling white smoke into the air.
CHRIS PAGE: The reason I made the trek doesn’t have anything to do with your show.
JUSTIN YORK: Oh yeah? What’s up then?
Chris takes another pull as Justin puts the zippo away. Chris passes the joint to Justin as he exhales smoke into the air before he states.
CHRIS PAGE: Wanted to talk to you about what happened on Mayhem and what we’ve got in front of ourselves moving forward. I’m not concerned with the double pin or any of the drama that followed. I’m more wanting to know where your head is at knowing that we’re going to be doing battle for the richest prize in the IIW.
JUSTIN YORK: What do you mean where is my head at? As far as I’m concerned the belt is leaving with The Welcoming Committee, and that’s all that matters… right?
Justin asks as he takes a toke from the joint.
CHRIS PAGE: Not The Welcoming Committee.
Confused Justin responds while in mid-inhale.
JUSTIN YORK: Huh?
Chris can see the state of confusion in his tone from York causing him to elaborate.
CHRIS PAGE: The Welcoming Committee, was solely put together to see if you and Fred were worthy enough to be welcomed into CCPE. Over the last several weeks it’s been made official that not only did you both earn that respect, but you’ve also signed the contracts and now fall under my representation.
Chris states as Justin blows out a cloud of smoke.
CHRIS PAGE: Ultimately there isn’t a need for the Welcoming Committee when we are all CCPE.
The most dominant brand in ALL professional wrestling has just officially expanded into the ranks of the IIW. No longer will I mask our intentions, no longer will we “welcome” you to the IIW because we ARE the IIW. CCPE has revolutionized the entire industry federation by federation, and now you can take on this federation to its list.
… my talent pool runs deep, and if you keep fucking around I’ll make a few calls and give all of you a reason to call it fucking quits.
CHRIS PAGE: TWC was a checkers… CCPE is chess, and on our board, we’re always one move away from fucking checkmate while the rest of the jizzstains haven’t even figured out the rules of the game.
BOOM.
JUSTIN YORK: The rules of the game are simple Chris, we run EVERYTHING which is something these shit monkeys will never figure out. The Welcoming Committee allowed everyone else to come to the big time through us and isn't only fitting that we've now rolled up our welcoming mat to the big leagues because as CCPE we are a big time and there isn't a damn thing anybody can do but ACCEPT IT!
Justin blows lit a cloud of smoke once more and grins this time followed by a cough.
JUSTIN YORK: You know, speaking of CCPE, we are the tag team champions and we have the Freebird rule invoked... Why not use it? Especially at a time when I need some extra motivation to get into the ring with that sack of shit Cav and his pen pal Andy Donohue.
Justin passes Chris the joint.
CHRIS PAGE: Are you in my head?
Maybe.
CHRIS PAGE: At this juncture, it’s become painfully obvious that we cannot expect anyone to push us so we must push ourselves. Goddamn kid, YES! Let’s defend the straps against them!
Fighting champions is exactly the standard that needs to be set within the IIW so that is exactly what we are going to give you. Being able to have the ability to GIVE you a shot regardless if you want it or not is more gracious… it’s downright charitable when you look at the level of competition we are going to smack around because WE can and YOU can cry about it.
A fighting champion is exactly the role model this company needs .. look at Crush, for instance, when was the last time that dipstick defended his title? OH WAIT, he defended on another show like that counts for fuck all. Take notes we’re giving the guidelines on how to BE BETTER and being generous enough to give the less fortunate a shot in the process!’
Jesus fucking Christ dude, who said you could talk?!?!
Oh… I just assumed it was a thing now.
Well… you’re not wrong you just gotta warn me.
Where is the fun in that?
CHRIS PAGE: They can’t say that we aren’t trying to create competition, that’s for sure.
JUSTIN YORK: Do you think the brass will allow it?
Justin asks as Chris takes a small toke on the joint before answering.
CHRIS PAGE: The better question is do I care?
Chris responds as he blows out smoke into the air.
CHRIS PAGE: Survey says… Nope.
Justin seizes the moment as he makes a call to one of his assistants via his cell phone.
JUSTIN YORK: I need for you to bring me… “the bag”... it’s celebration time.
Chris’s right eyebrow cocks as Justin speaks in code. Justin abruptly ends the call.
CHRIS PAGE: What the fuck was all that about?
JUSTIN YORK: Brother, I’ve got something I want you to try.
A few short minutes later a woman walks into the room with a rather small durable sandwich bag that is all black so you cannot see the contents of the bag. As she approaches Justin ask Chris.
CHRIS PAGE: That the bag you spoke of?
JUSTIN YORK: Do you trust me?
Chris Page cocks his right eyebrow looking at Justin with a bewildered look on his face.
CHRIS PAGE: I.. Guess... So...
JUSTIN YORK: Take what she gives you and chew the shit out of it.
Chris is still staring at York like he has three heads but as the woman approaches, he opens his mouth and allows the woman to pop a few small items inside and begins chewing. The woman hands Page a bottle of water as he continues to chew.
JUSTIN YORK: Take a seat, my friend.
York pulls up a chair for Page who sits, and York grabs a chair and sits directly across from him. York takes the bag from the woman who is one of his many assistants and dismisses her. He takes a handful of the contents of the bag and stuffs it into his mouth.
CHRIS PAGE: SHROOMS?! You little fuu–
JUSTIN YORK: It's a celebration Page… Relax.
Justin smirks and lights a cigar and offers one to Chris as well.
JUSTIN YORK: What you just took is known as the Great White Monster Magic Mushroom, it's one of the most potent in the world. Now that I think about it you took a bunch as did I!
Chris Page looks unimpressed but is going with the flow of the situation, Afterall he’s kinda locked in for the ride at this point now, isn’t he?
He wants to kill me I bet but he has no idea the ride he’s in for! This is how to throw a fuckin celebration.
There’s nothing to celebrate yet, prick!! We have to at least DEFEND the straps first before we start celebrating victory.
Dude, it’s fucking Cav and Donohue. Not like we’re breaking the bank on the competition here.
What the fuck? They can’t be kicking in already. Damn it, he’s in my head now, isn’t he? Smooth move ex-lax, how do you plan to get us out of this one?
Well, you see Chris, I didn’t plan that far ahead.
Suuurprise!
Justin takes a puff of his cigar before tossing it onto the floor and crunching it out shortly after lighting it. He then rubs his eyes and looks back at Page. He notices Chris has no head.
JUSTIN YORK: What the fuck?
CHRIS PAGE: Starting to realize this wasn't such a bright idea?
York shakes his head and rubs his eyes once more and upon looking back at Page he sees that in place of his head is now a jack-in-the-box. The handle on the box is spinning and before long a head pops out of the box in classic style, only it's a John Cavanagh head. York is startled by the suddenness of the box going off and is appalled at the fact that it's a Cavanagh's head.
JUSTIN YORK: AHHH! STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!
Chris giggles at Justin who is swatting the air in and around Page.
CHRIS PAGE: What in the hell?!
Page reaches out and smacks York as his hallucinations have started to kick in and he is seeing York with two heads. One of them is Cav and the other is his idiot partner, Andy Donohue.
JUSTIN YORK: Don’t fuckin slap me!
York reaches out to slap Page back, but it evaded, and they tumble to the floor.
It’s me... York, dumbass.
Dumbass? Whose the one that got us into this mess in the first place? We should probably start discussing why we’ve elected to put the tag titles on the line. It’s not like the Celtic Club; wait a fucking minute, who the hell calls themselves the Celtic Club? That shit sounds like an Irish Gay Bar. What are you NOT telling us Cav? It’s 2022, and all lifestyles are accepted, buddy.
Are you talking about having something to fight for? I thought being able to name the stipulation for the title match WHEN we win was the icing on the cake besides racking up another defense at the expense of the less fortunate.
You’re learning grasshopper.
Naming a stipulation is cool and all but it just wasn’t enough to get me motivated to put more time and effort into what’s a lost cause for the Culture Club…
Celtic Club.
I said it right, Boy Cav and the Culture Club.
I think what you’re trying to say is that getting in the ring with to name a stipulation wasn’t enough.
Duh.
At this point both men have started to catch on to the fact they’re at the beginning stages of a very heavy trip– after all, they probably took three times more powerful shrooms than the average human should probably take. A loud clasp of thunder followed by a lightning bolt striking down upon the center of the ring takes the attention of both Chris and Justin.
Thick white smoke fills the ring and starts dissipating into the air revealing a phone booth. The door kicks open and out steps…
JUSTIN YORK: Uh… who the fuck is that?
Before Chris can say a word the man of mystery loudly responds.
“Greeting my excellent friends, I’m Rufus.”
Chris and Justin, now both seated on the floor Indian Style glance over at each other as they simultaneously state…
“NO WAAYYYYY.”
Which garners the response.
RUFUS: Way.
Rufus steps through the ring ropes where he levitates down to the floor. Chris and Justin each can be seen getting up off the ground themselves just as Rufus reaches them. Rufus looks them up and down as he lightly shakes his head before he states.
RUFUS: What am I going to do with both of you?
Chris immediately narks on Justin.
CHRIS PAGE: It was his idea.
Justin turns and slaps Chris on the left shoulder as he lashes out at Chris.
JUSTIN YORK: Shut up! Fartknocker!
RUFUS: Boys there is no need for name calling because the last thing you need to be doing is fighting yourselves if you think you’re going to get out of this predicament in one piece.
CHRIS PAGE: I don’t understand.
Rufus turns his back to Chris and Justin as he rests his hands behind his back while slowly walking back toward the ring.
RUFUS: You two dumb fucks ate enough mushrooms to kill an entire country…
Chris lashes out almost instantly.
CHRIS PAGE: BULLSHIT! I ate two!
Rufus spins around glaring at Chris as he states.
RUFUS: What you thought was two was two bags and what that Pecker head thought was a bag was six bags.
Chris turns and points at Justin while laughing hysterically as he says.
CHRIS PAGE: Dumbass.
Justin turns and takes another swing at Chris whose gaze is on the tracers coming from Justin's hand.
CHRIS PAGE: So colorful…
Smack! Justin clocks Page in the jaw staggering him backward.
JUSTIN YORK: HAHA! That’s what you get for fucking with me!
Chris lunges at Justin only to have Rufus step in between them as his frustration with him lashes out at both Chris Page and Justin York.
RUFUS: If you two dicks don’t knock it off you’re not going to survive this trip and you’ll LOSE to Cav and Andy!!
Chris and York stop trying to get at each other upon hearing the words spit out by Rufus. There’s a collective.
“No Wayyyyyyyyyyy!!”
From both Chris and York as Rufus steps out from in between them.
RUFUS: Way.
CHRIS PAGE: So how do we kick the trip, beat Boy George and the Culture Club, and save the tag titles from falling into further obscurity since no other teams seem to care enough about them to challenge us?
Let’s be one hundred on this- they didn’t challenge us, we didn’t give them a choice in the matter. It’s a horrid state of affairs when the Champs can’t even get quality challengers to remotely TRY to take the belts from us. CCPE is cornering the market in the IIW for a fucking reason… because guys like you failed! For all the bitching and moaning you’d think a thank you would be for making the IIW something worth talking about since YOU all did such a great fucking job Pre-Page.
When you take a good look at the pecking order around the IIW four letters stick out head and shoulders above anyone or anything else. CCPE. We are going to talk at length about why this is going to be a cakewalk but we can start with when was the last time the Celtic Club was remotely relevant. I ask and I answer… now. The answer never has they been more relevant than they are right now; and who can you thank? CCPE!
That’s got to chap their asses.
RUFUS: Way.
JUSTIN YORK: But how do we make all this happen oh great and powerful one?
Rufus glances at Justin with disgust.
RUFUS: I’m not the Wizard of Oz.
JUSTIN YORK: Sorry dude.
RUFUS: Fucking insulting.
Rufus rolls his eyes as he attempts to explain one more time the nature of the situation.
RUFUS: There is only one way to make pull yourselves out of this nosedive. You’re going to have to go through hell…
RUFUS: You two are going to have to take my phone booth, go to hell, talk to Death, and figure out how he’s going to save you. If you’re not back by midnight all hope will be lost and the IIW will be forced to deal with second-rate Champions; picture another Jonny C situation… only with the Tag Titles!
Rufus stands and looks at Page and York as they stare back with blank expressions.
RUFUS: GO! NOW! THE FATE OF THE WORLD RELIES ON YOU!
Page and York snap out of the blank expressions and start to make their way toward the ring. Electrical currents still transcend the phone booth. Justin attempts to climb up on the apron only to fall to the floor where he is laughing uncontrollably.
RUFUS: Those guys are screwed.
Rufus mutters under his breath as Chris helps Justin back up. Chris opts to slide into the ring under the bottom rope to avoid having to climb. Justin smacks himself in the side of the head as he states.
JUSTIN YORK: Why didn’t I think of that?
Justin follows Chris as he crawls under the bottom rope. They each utilize the ropes to pull themselves up to their feet as they now stand in front of the open phone booth, both visually looking at the inside optics.
CHRIS PAGE: This should be fun.
Chris steps into the phone booth followed by Justin.
JUSTIN YORK: What do we do now?
Chris quietly responds under his breath.
CHRIS PAGE: How the fuck should I know?
Chris shrugs as his attention pivots back to Rufus who is standing ringside with his hands still placed behind his back.
CHRIS PAGE: What do we do? How do we get this piece of crap running?
RUFUS: 0911
Justin snatches the phone from the receiver. He looks up at Page, Page looks back down at him while giving a head nod. Justin lets out a deep exhale before hitting the 0 buttons followed by the 9 buttons and finally the 1 button, twice.
RUFUS: SHUT THE GODDAMN DOOR!
Chris quickly shuts the door as Justin hangs up the receiver when suddenly.
The phone booth disappears through the ring sending Chris and Justin traveling through space and time down into the pits of hell where it lands in a poof of white smoke. The phone booth settles in before the doors open as Chris and Justin step out of the phone booth surrounded by pitch darkness with a single light shining down upon them. Chris and Justin look around yet there’s nothing.
CHRIS PAGE: HELLO!!
Chris’s voice echoes loudly throughout the darkness while Justin is hardly amused.
JUSTIN YORK: I thought hell would be hotter than this.
CHRIS PAGE: Rufus said we have to find Death so he can help us on our quest to save the titles.
Justin immediately screams at the top of his lungs.
JUSTIN YORK: DEATH!! BRING YOUR BITCH ASS!!
Chris smacks York in the back of the head as he spouts out.
CHRIS PAGE: Dude, don’t fuck with Death. What’s your problem?!
Justin mouths the word “Sorry”.
“YOU RANG!”
Justin and Chris jump as they spin around and find Death…
DEATH: Oh shit.
Chris exclaims out in sheer joy.
CHRIS PAGE: DEATH! FUCKING DEATH?! IS THAT YOU?!?!
DEATH: Nope! Not happening, I promised myself I’d never deal with you again! What the hell did you do now?!
Chris Page leaps over giving Death a big ole bear hug while Justin scratches the side of his head puzzled with what is transpiring.
CHRIS PAGE: Awwww don’t be like that…
Chris releases the bear hug as he steps away back toward Justin who finally asks.
JUSTIN YORK: Uh… Do I even want to know why Death wants no part of you?
Chris glances at Death and asks.
CHRIS PAGE: Go ahead and tell him.
DEATH: No, no! That story doesn’t need to be told. Let’s just say we are old…
CHRIS PAGE: Friends! Just say it! We’re friends!
DEATH: WE ARE NOT FRIENDS!
Death’s voice drops both Justin and Page to their knees with the sheer wind power from the lower diaphragm. Chris quietly whispers.
CHRIS PAGE: He’s mad bro.
DEATH: He’s been here before…
Death states while pointing at Page yet directing his attention now toward York.
DEATH: I have been waiting for this moment for twenty years.
Justin quietly asks Chris...
JUSTIN YORK: What moment? What the hell is this pale fuck talking about?
Chris quickly and softly responds.
CHRIS PAGE: Battleship bro, battleship.
Death continues.
DEATH: I told you two out of three, and now I’m going to collect.
Justin attempts to stand back up only to be knocked back some twenty feet with a swift motion from Death’s right arm. Death kneels looking Chris in the eye.
DEATH: Do you accept?
Chris giggles before he states.
CHRIS PAGE: You’re kind of cute when you’re angry, grrrrrr…
Chris blows Death a kiss which sees Death kick, Chris, in the sternum sending him flying back where he tumbles head over heels back to Justin. Both Justin and Page jump up to their feet where they huddle up.
JUSTIN YORK: What the fuck do we do?
CHRIS PAGE: Well dude, we have two options. If we don’t accept his challenge we will be stuck down here for eternity. This means Cav and Donopuke get to skate away with the titles.
Justin pops off at the mouth.
JUSTIN YORK: Unacceptable.
CHRIS PAGE: So we have to accept his challenge.
JUSTIN YORK: What if we lose?
CHRIS PAGE: Well dude, if we lose… well… Death by Mushrooms dude… and our souls belong to him.
Justin quickly responds.
JUSTIN YORK: It sounds like we better fucking win.
Chris replies with a soft cocky tone.
CHRIS PAGE: I’ve beaten Death once, I can do it again.
JUSTIN YORK: Are you sure?
He reluctantly asks as Death shouts from a distance.
DEATH: DO YOU ACCEPT?!?!
Chris and York spin back around directing their attention back at Death.
CHRIS PAGE: That depends.
Chris responds which catches Death completely off guard because it’s not like they have many choices in this instance.
DEATH: Depends on what?
Chris tilts his head over looking at York who gives him a warrior nod of approval. Chris looks back at Death without showing no fear as he states with sheer and utter seriousness in his tone. Justin makes a lunge for the phone booth only to see that Death snaps his fingers causing it to disappear into thin air.
CHRIS PAGE: Only if you provide fruit snacks.
Justin steps forward as he adds.
JUSTIN YORK: Berries and Cream.
Chris reiterates.
CHRIS PAGE: Berries and Cream.
Death stomps his right foot down on the ground sending reverberations coursing under the feet of Page and York before he casually responds with a gleeful smile.
DEATH: Sure.
Death snaps his finger which magically takes our heroes to a large room that has a massively long blue marble table. Like, MASSIVELY large, like so big and long it makes you think that Death might be overcompensating for something as we see that Death is sitting at the far end of the table; some fifty yards looking down at Page and York.
JUSTIN YORK: You can’t be serious.
Justin states.
JUSTIN YORK: How does this help us to get any closer to saving the belts?
CHRIS PAGE: Rufus wouldn’t have sent us if there wasn’t something here to aid us on our quest save the belts.
Justin shakes his head.
JUSTIN YORK: Fucking Battleship? What are we twelve?
CHRIS PAGE: I don’t know what to say, Death holds a grudge,
Speaking of holding a grudge think it’s about time I start pointing out many of the flaws that our… Ya know, I don’t want to even call them challengers at this point because it’s more like a charity with the Culture Club. First and foremost they’ve done absolutely nothing but warrant this shot but when you are a DEFENDING champion you don’t have to sit around and wait for the pencil to book it, you book it yourself. We don’t have to Jonny C our titles, we don’t make excuses, dodge legit challengers, or deal with the same person continuously like Crush because CCPE sets the goddamn tone within any federation that we are ASKED to be a part of.
The rumor circulating amongst the boys is that most of you can’t stand us.
GOOD!
Other than being more talented than most it means above all else we are doing our jobs because the last thing IIW was before I arrived was entertaining. Never in my life have I seen so many people scared over losing their spots to more talented competitors; John and Andy are two of them.
DEATH: LET’S FINISH THIS!!
Chris glances back and Death holds up his index finger.
CHRIS PAGE: With ya in a minute.
Chris turns back into the singled-out huddle with Justin.
JUSTIN YORK: This is fucking stupid dude.
CHRIS PAGE: We don’t make the rules, and YOU’RE the one that made us drop shrooms.
JUSTIN YORK: But fucking battleship? Why not twister? Or pin the tail on the donkey? Might as well.
Justin breaks from the huddle as he glares down toward Death and spouts out.
JUSTIN YORK: This is a joke! You’re the Grim Reaper and we’re playing Battleship. You should be embarrassed for yourself.
Like the rest of the IIW roster should after the thrashings that have been dealt via CCPE, embarrassed. Every time they open their mouths they insert their feet down to the ankle. The reality is guys like Cav and Andrew MAKE it easy for guys like me to step all over you to the degree that not many of you even want to get in the ring with me because you already know that result. Fuck man, Jonny ran for three months before up and disappearing like the talentless chode he is. He sure as hell isn’t here but he damn sure IS elsewhere. What about the two of you though? Why haven’t either of you tasted a hell of a lot of success in the tag team ranks? Probably the same reason neither of you hasn’t been to the levels that WE are on.
JUSTIN YORK: Who traps people in hell to play Battleship?!
With a snap of the fingers, Justin York suddenly evaporates into the thin air right in front of Chris’s eyes! Chris reaches out trying to get his hand on Justin but it’s too late because Justin is gone.
CHRIS PAGE: JUSTIN!?!?!?
Chris cocks his head at the end of the table but before he can lash out Death asks.
DEATH: How do you deal with that? All the barking and constantly blah, blah, blah out of him.
CHRIS PAGE: What did you do with Justin?!
An evil smirk comes across the face of Death as he responds.
DEATH: Justin isn’t here anymore; his soul now belongs to me as will yours if you don’t sit down and finish this.
Reluctantly Chris moves toward the seat. Death snaps his fingers a second time and the chair that was going to belong to Justin disappears leaving the one in front of the Battleship board as the game is already in progress.
Chris looks at his board as all ships have a red peg but one slot on his Battleship.
DEATH: A-12.
Chris eyes the board lining up Death’s shot- Chris pears over the board while he states.
CHRIS PAGE: Miss.
Death completely loses his shit.
DEATH: BS!
CHRIS PAGE: No sir. Miss.
Chris looks at his board sizing up his shot.
CHRIS PAGE: C-4.
Death looks up the board, tracks the shot, and knocks his Battleship Board off the table in sheer frustration while exclaiming at the top of his voice.
DEATH: YOU SUNK MY BATTLESHIP!
Chris nods as he responds.
CHRIS PAGE: EXCELLENT!
Chris turns to high-five where Justin should be and it clicks.
CHRIS PAGE: Yo where’s my bodacious bud?
I’m right here.
DEATH: How did this happen twice?!?!
Death plops down in his chair at the far end of the table.
DEATH: I’ve been planning this for twenty years.
Chris gets up out of his chair while slamming his fist on the table.
CHRIS PAGE: WHERE’S YORK?!?!?!
Death’s eyes turn red as his head whips toward Chris’s direction.
Dude, I’m right here!
Justin?
Yeah dumbass.
Death gets back up out of his chair. He starts to walk around the table in Chris’s direction at a methodically slower pace.
DEATH: Your friend is gone and he won’t be coming back.
Don’t listen to him, dude! I’m right here. I’m inside your head.
DEATH: He danced with the reaper and lost, although I’m sure you’re going to hear him in your head because that’s where I banished him.
Chris mutters.
CHRIS PAGE: Ah hell.
Death smiles as he reaches Chris and wraps his arm around his shoulders as he spins him around and starts to walk him away from the table.
DEATH: Consider it a personal gift from me.
CHRIS PAGE: Dick.
Don’t talk to me like that.
Justin might be gone but he’s not going to be forgotten, and with the Tag Titles at stake, most people might try to call off the match, they might try to reach for an excuse not to continue forth but not me. Yes, a large part of it rests with having more talent in my pinky toe than most of you have running through your bodies, being able to step to the plate and perform across multiple platforms finding success where ever the hell I land.
Fun Fact, you’re listening to ½ of the new Level Up Multiplayer Champions.
NOPE! Stops it right there because anything outside the IIW doesn’t matter or exist.
Okay, now you’re just being rude.
Honest.
Well, I can give two fucks if they want to hear it or not they’re going to because the IIW isn’t the only promotion on the planet and OUTSIDE worlds do exist within this narrative.
It’s your funeral.
Says the dude that’s taking up real estate in my head. Isn’t Crush parading around with an outside title? Or wasn’t it defended on our show? Ah ha! Can’t have it both ways, ladies and gentlemen. You can’t fault me for throwing out my success not only here but ACROSS THE SPECTRUM yet this company has allowed another’s on television. Anyway, as I was saying… I could walk into this partnerless and mop the floor with the Partridge Family.
Celtic Club.
If I want to call them the Osmonds then they’re Osmonds because the entire point is it doesn’t matter who they think they are it’s going to take more than them to knock me off my high horse. I throw my nose up in the air at the boys on the roster because it’s not even close on IF I’m better than you but what’s sad is there’s not even a close second to me.
DEATH: Unfortunately your bogus journey is going to be traveled alone.
CHRIS PAGE: What bogus journey? I beat you… again… You have to get me back to Earth so I can save the titles and the world.
DEATH: But our game has just begun. All you’ve done is take the first round, but I bet you that you can’t beat me in the next one.
CHRIS PAGE: Let me guess… these rounds continue until whatever you have concocted works.
DEATH: You’re sure are a smart one.
CHRIS PAGE: Duh, I mean I have beaten you…. Twice.
Death stops Chris and turns him so they are facing each other.
DEATH: Just keep telling yourself that.
Death takes a step back and he snaps his fingers which triggers Chris to start disappearing into thin air.
____________________
Chris opens his eyes from the darkness that he found himself in as he is now on a high school campus in parts unknown. Chris sports a preppy look with a red polo shirt and khaki dress slacks, slung over his shoulder is a black book bag. Chris is surrounded by various students of all nationalities, only they are high school age and they are all looking at Chris like he’s the pervert from the Family Guy just waiting for him to say “guess who”.
Chris is taken aback as random music rings out from all over. Loud, annoying circuit 2004ish, yet it seems like all the students are smartened up as they all turn their heads toward the parking lot. Suddenly strutting across the plush green lawn toward the entrance of the school…
“Supporting Cast”
“Classic Underachiever”
“Lonnie Crybaby”
Chris nudges a kid next to him as he watches the three men strut ass across the lawn with the latter making eye contact with Chris while flipping him off.
CHRIS PAGE: Who are they?
STUDENT: Those are the Mean Boys, and it seems you’ve already made an impression.
It’s never easy when someone better than you shows up on your turf and not only talks the talk but walks the walk. It’d be different if I was one of those dudes that showed up to fuel my selfish desires. I could have easily jumped to the front of the line, and yet I didn’t. I elected to flex my dick between the ropes where it matters by slaying your undefeated Crush, defeating your unbeatable Team Friendship, knocking off your former Television Champion, defeating the current International Champion…
Former dude. I let that shit go.
You get the point that it’s a bitter pill to swallow when your entire landscape changes with the arrival of one mortal man that your either too scared to get in the ring with because he backs up every word he speaks. I’d suggest you get used to it for now it’s my mission to not only dominate the World Title scene but I’ll hold onto these Tag Titles because that’s how good I am. I don’t have to come out here and pick and choose when I show up to potential. I don’t have to have lines fed to me by the boys in the back to see what will work versus what won’t. Jesus, the words fish, and barrel come to mind just thinking about the sheer thrashing that I’m going to deal upon the Village People.
Celtic Club.
SHUT THE FUCK UP!
I would say make me… but ya can’t.
Even in death, you’re still an asshole.
I take it as a compliment.
The Mean Boys strut past everyone as they walk through the double doors of the high school. Chris looks to speak to the student further only to have Death standing beside him causing Chris to jump back several feet out of surprise.
CHRIS PAGE: DUDE!
DEATH: No I’m Death.
Chris rolls his eyes before he states.
CHRIS PAGE: Why am I here? What the hell does this have to do with getting back to Earth or beating you at the same game?
DEATH: You must conquer the Mean Boys to advance to the next stage.
CHRIS PAGE: You got to be kidding me.
DEATH: I’m going to love watching you try.
CHRIS PAGE: Whatever dude. Watch and learn.
Chris looks at the front doors of the school where he lets out a deep exhale before starting to walk toward the double doors.
DEATH: Good luck!
Death states followed by a snicker under his breath as he watches Chris enter the school. Upon the double doors closing behind him we find ourselves in a gymnasium where the Mean Boys are pummeling the high schoolers in a rousing game of Dodge Ball. What was three Mean Boys has now turned into four as there’s someone new that’s joined them on the courts.
“Smash”.
The Mean Boys have a four-on-one advantage and have all the dodgeballs not only on their side of the court but they’re all four armed and all four unload blasting this poor kid from all angles winning the round. The celebration between the four is in full swing as they dominate the same kids over, and over, and over again. The high-fiving and mocking are on full display as the dejected team is heartbroken.
CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER: WHO ELSE WANTS SOME?!?!
One thing I’ve always hated is a group of bullies but what’s kinda funny is how they react when they are the victims and not the culprits they once were.
Bro you’re going to have to dumb that down for them because they can’t connect the dots.
Well that’s not my problem now, is it?
CHRIS PAGE: I do.
Chris states as “Eye of the Tiger” starts to play loudly from the nonexistent speakers right on cue. Chris drops his backpack as he untucks his shirt while walking out onto the dodge ball court. The Mean Boys all laugh at him as Smash tries to antagonize him.
SMASH: You’re one person and you think you’re going to take us? Bitch, please.
Chris winks at Crush before he states.
CHRIS PAGE: It doesn’t take a lot to knock over the B-Team.
Chris takes his spot on his side of the court as the four balls are placed in the center of the gym floor. There’s now suddenly a packed gymnasium as if this is the Stanley Cup or Superbowl. A referee in black slacks and zebra stripes is on the side of the court with a whistle in hand. He blows it and the game is on with the Mean Boys rushing toward the balls as Chris merely stands in place. Smash, Supporting Cast, Lonnie Crybaby, and Classic Underachiever are armed with the balls with Smash immediately throwing with all his might toward Page who catches the ball to a roar from the crowd.
The official blows his whistle as suddenly walks onto the court joining Chris…
Bam Miller in a CCPE t-shirt fist bumps Chris Page as we see Lonnie Crybaby and Supporting Cast hurl their dodgeballs at Bam, Page uses his ball to deflect one while Bam catches the other! There’s another whistle blow from the official as the crowd roars. We see another man walk forward…
Fred Debonair emerges onto the court in a CCPE t-shirt. Bam and Page each have a ball as do Smash and Classic Underachiever. They size each other up and it’s Page who fires a shot just as Smash hurls his ball at Fred. Fred makes the catch as Page misses his target narrowly to a gasp from the crowd. The whistle blows and finally, we see…
Joe Montouri rocking a CCPE t-shirt.
The playing field is level with each team having two dodgeballs. Bam and Fred and Lonnie and Classic Underachiever. The game is on as the balls are flying with nobody connecting. Page ends up with a ball that he hurls with pinpoint accuracy into the face of Smash!
J Mont takes out Supporting Cast!
Bam takes out Lonnie Crybaby.
Leaving Classic Underachiever all by his lonesome with Chris, Bam, J Mont, and Fred armed with dodgeballs. Chris flips off Classic Underachiever as all four balls are thrown and smash into various parts of his body! The gymnasium erupts as Team CCPE stands victorious, yet with quickness, Chris Page is surrounded once again by darkness as Death stands before him lightly clapping his hands together ever so lightly.
CHRIS PAGE: I can’t believe you thought the Mean Boys would be a challenge.
Not one individual or team has been able to stop the freight train that is not only CCP but the conglomerate that is CCPE. What bothers people about both revolves around their insecurities not only as talents in the business but also because they know they don’t have the level of talent required to stand toe to toe with anyone within CCPE. Unfortunately for all of you just because one dropped doesn’t mean that one more isn’t on the way. If you whine and cry this bad now I can only wait and sit back with enjoyment as you pine over what is about to come.
CHRIS PAGE: They can barely jack themselves off.
DEATH: I’m confident you can’t defeat the next stage.
CHRIS PAGE: Ya said that about this one. Face it I’ve trashed your best on every outing so what makes you think this next level is going to be any different? You’re starting to sound like one of those chodes.
DEATH: SILENCE!
CHRIS PAGE: Uh… no. How many more times do I have to beat you before you take me to Earth to save the titles and the world? Time is valuable and you're wasting a lot of mines. Step your game up because this is amateur hour.
Death paces slowly back and forth in front of Chris.
DEATH: Let’s see if you feel the same way…
Death snaps his fingers and yet again as if he’s an Avenger following Thanos retrieving all the infinity stones Chris starts to disappear into the darkness while flipping Death off.
__________________
Pixalating back into his human form as his eyes set the site on…
CHRIS PAGE: What the…
Not knowing what’s on Death’s mind Chris looks around not seeing anyone of anything in sight. He turns around seeing a house with a pair of feet hanging out from underneath it.
“You did it!”
Chris is startled as he spins around with both fists clinched and sees nothing.
“Down here.”
Chris looks down and leaps back in a state of fear at a little person standing knee-high.
CHRIS PAGE: What the hell are you?!?! And who the hell is that?!?!
Chris asks as he spins around pointing to the men's feet that stick out from underneath the house.
MUNCHKIN: That? He was the wicked witch of the East until you squashed him with your house.
Why does that sound so familiar? Oh yeah, because it’s what I’ve been doing since day one that chaps all of your asses because you can’t crack the CCP code. Don’t feel bad, not many people can. Something that we need to start talking about is what happens WHEN I defeat Team Sonny and Cher.
Celtic Club.
Justin, dude I swear to God if you don’t stop interrupting me.
Sorry.
Retaining the tag titles is just the beginning of the sheer dominance that is going to be flexed live on Mayhem because that means that I will elect the stipulation for the World Heavyweight Championship match taking place to live on Pay-Per-View.
He’s fucked enough as is but you calling the stipulation all but confirms his demise.
MUNCHKIN: We are called Munchkins, and this is Munchkin Land.
Chris looks down towards the yellow brick road that is under his feet as he shouts out.
CHRIS PAGE: The freaking Wizard of Oz?! REALLY?!?
Chris simply shakes his head while he returns his attention to the Munchkin.
CHRIS PAGE: I don’t see us. I see you.
Upon finishing the statement popping out from all over are hundreds upon thousands of munchkins! All of them surround Chris as well as the pair of feet hanging out from underneath the house.
MUNCHKIN: You’re a hero, you’ve freed us from the control of the evil Witch of the East, Donahue.
CHRIS PAGE: Donapuke was here?
Confused the Munchkin responds.
MUNCHKIN: What?
CHRIS PAGE: Nothing.
MUNCHKIN: But that’s not the one you have to worry about.
CHRIS PAGE: Let me guess, there’s another which tormenting you that will show up any minute?
Seemingly on cue…
All the Munchkins scatter like cockroaches when the lights are turned on, all fleeing toward the safety of their homes when we see flying in on a Broom in a long black cloak is…
MUNCHKIN: WICKED WITCH OF THE CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER!
Unamused Chris looks toward his right wrist looking at the time while the Classic Underachiever lands on the yellow brick road. He immediately rushed to the house that is sitting on his brother before spinning around where he shouts out.
WICKED WITCH OF THE CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER: WHO DID THIS?!?!
Dumb question when there’s but one person visible.
CHRIS PAGE: I did.
What could I make the World Title match? The list of matches running through my head is off the charts. It’s not a matter of which stipulation I should choose but which stipulation is going to embarrass Cav the most. I could kick the crap out of him to the degree he can’t answer a ten count.
No brother. Shaun Hart as the Special Referee.
I could force him to swallow his pride and say the words I Quit.
To easy.
Good point.
WICKED WITCH OF THE CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER: I am going to make you pay for this!
Chris responds with sheer sarcasm.
CHRIS PAGE: You can try but you shall fail.
The Wicked Witch of the Classic Underachiever holds his right hand out where a fireball appears.
WICKED WITCH OF THE CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER: I’ll get you!
He states as he hurls the fireball at Chris Page. Chris dives out of the way avoiding the fireball. He rolls across the yellow brick road before getting back to his feet where he evades a second fireball that crashes into the yellow brick road putting a hole in it.
CHRIS PAGE: You got to do better than that.
The Wicked Witch of the Classic Underachiever hops on his broomstick and elevates up into the sky.
CHRIS PAGE: How the hell am I going to get him out of the sky?
Chris closes his eyes for three seconds before opening them where sandbags are stacked up on the right side of him.
CHRIS PAGE: Thanks, bro.
Anytime.
The Wicked Witch of the Under Achiever swoops down toward Chris throwing another fireball. Chris snatches a sandbag throwing it in the path of the fireball causing an explosion in the air upon impact.
CHRIS PAGE: You’re going to have to do better than that!
Chris snatches another sandbag and prepares for the incoming attack, yet out of the corner of his eye, he sees a munchkin hiding in the foliage with an oversized lollypop.
CHRIS PAGE: Ah ha!
Chris shifts his eyes back toward the Wicked Witch who has turned around and is rolling in with two fireballs! Chris quickly drops the sandbag and does a forward roll toward the munchkin in hiding where he snatches the oversized lollypop and uses it as a bat. He takes a swing connecting with the first fireball sending it back toward the Wicked Witch and immediately hits the second fireball back at him as well. The Wicked Witch avoids the first one but is nailed with the second knocking him off his broom and sending him crashing down upon the yellow brick road.
CHRIS PAGE: Excellent.
I could put him through a table or draw first blood but all of those seem like they just don’t fit the bill. OHHHH, what about a steel cage or Hell in a Cell? It could be funny to make the IIW bring the Elimination Chamber back since that first one went over so well.
The LAST thing you want is an Elimination Chamber, brother.
How the hell do you know what I want or don’t want?
Probably because thanks to Death I’m kind of your conscious. Jesus that sounded weird.
I could surround the ring with CCPE talent for a Lumberjack match.
As funny as that would be even you know that you can do better than that.
I mean we are just spitballing here.
WICKED WITCH OF THE CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER: Who are you?
The Wicked Witch asks as he starts getting back up to his feet while Chris Page snatches a sandbag and throws it at the Wicked Witch smashing him in the face and knocking him backward where he cracks the back of his head on the yellow brick road.
CHRIS PAGE: Who me? I’m your worst nightmare come true. I’m the person that haunts your thoughts while you’re awake, that causes you restless nights, I’m the guy that is and always will be better than you.
Chris states as he walks toward the fallen Wicked Witch of the Classic Underachiever.
CHRIS PAGE: … And I’m the guy that is going save all these midgets from your tyranny. No longer will you hold them down, no longer will you intimidate them into catering to your wishes because I am the guy that is going to vanquish you and get back to Earth to save the titles and the world!
Chris glances just off the yellow brick road at a munchkin hiding on the side of her house.
CHRIS PAGE: Hosepipe.
Another munchkin rushes out with a hosepipe and hands it to Chris.
CHRIS PAGE: Water.
The first munchkin turns on the water spigot while Page points the hose at the Wicked Witch.
CHRIS PAGE: This is the part where you understand just how fucked you are.
The water pours out of the hosepipe down upon the face of the Wicked Witch of the Classic Underachiever as he screams out at the top of his lungs.
WICKED WITCH OF THE CLASSIC UNDERACHIEVER: NOOOO! NOOOO! I’m melting! MELLLLTTTTIIIINNNNGGGGGGG!
Smoke starts to pour out of the face of the Wicked Witch as he starts to shrivel up and disappear into the yellow brick road. All the munchkins re-emerge as a party starts to ensure. The voice of Death is heard ringing out as darkness emerges around Chris Page.
DEATH: I just don’t know what else to do.
Death appears in front of Chris with dejection in his eyes knowing that he’s been beaten.
DEATH: It doesn’t matter what I throw at you there’s an answer.
CHRIS PAGE: Ah Death don’t beat yourself up over it. There aren’t many people that have the chops to defeat me in any game they choose to play. One of the things that separate good from great is being able to adapt to anyone’s style under any given situation. Ya know, it’s like when I beat you the first time. I anticipated your moves and I beat you to the punch.
DEATH: How did you become so good? I must know.
A slick smirk hits the face of Chris Page as he answers.
CHRIS PAGE: Very few will ever crack that code, Death. What I can tell you is that I learn from every situation I’m involved in. My opponents give me more information in one setting than they are even aware of. I not only play your game I play you, but I also make you second guess, and I bury you under your narrative because I’m that fucking good.
Facts.
SHUT IT!
CHRIS PAGE: In this particular game, you put your faith in the wrong ones. Sometimes the past isn’t the future, and sometimes things need to evolve when it’s been stagnant for so long. This isn’t your playground even if you are calling the plays.
DEATH: I hate you so much right now.
Chris shakes his head negatively.
CHRIS PAGE: No you don’t.
Chris states.
CHRIS PAGE: Because if you did… I wouldn’t be here.
Your landscapes have drastically changed. Stuff your sorries in a sock because your time has come and gone. It’s my time to shine, it’s my time to take this organization to the pinnacle of success that it’s never seen before. By now you should all realize that I don’t make statements that bold and do not back them up. We are right there on the verge of shattering that glass ceiling that I can almost taste.
I am but one short step away from solidifying my claims.
Not only am I putting up the IIW Tag Titles, but I’m also going to determine how this shakes with the stipulation in tow. Spoiler, I already know what I’m calling. Do you?
CHRIS PAGE: If the fun and games are through, I’d like to get back to Earth.
Death shakes his head at Chris before he states.
DEATH: You could have left at any point.
Confused Chris responds.
CHRIS PAGE: What?
______________________
Water splashes down upon Chris’s face causing his eyes to flutter catching him off guard. It takes a second for the room to come into focus as he is looking up at the ceiling of his bedroom at his Las Vegas estate. Chris randomly spouts out.
CHRIS PAGE: NO FUCKING MUSHROOMS!
Candice Wolf-Page can be heard as she stands at the bedside of her husband with an empty water pitcher in her hand.
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: What is going on with you?
She asks before starting to giggle to herself.
CHRIS PAGE: Candice?
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Uh… yeah. You’ve been asleep for hours screaming about defeating Death.
Chris sits up taking a look around his room as Candice states.
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Who is a Classic Underachiever? You kept up that too. Whoever it was it sounded like you were making them your bitch.
CHRIS PAGE: Wait a minute.
Chris throws his legs over the bed, his feet touching the floor. He stands up and brushes past his wife looking around the room, ducking off into the bathroom and then the massive walk-in closet.
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Babe?
Chris walks out of the closet with a perplexed gaze in his eyes etched on his face.
CHRIS PAGE: I was in Toronto. How did I get here?
Candice walks around the foot of the bed, she places the empty pitcher on the corner of the dresser before taking Chris by both hands.
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Honey, you haven’t left Vegas.
Chris responds.
CHRIS PAGE: I was literally in Toronto at York’s spot, we were talking about his show and IIW business, he fed me shrooms, and all hell broke loose.
Candice lightly squeezes both hands of Page.
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Chris, I don’t know how to tell you this but you’ve been napping for the last two hours.
Chris’s cell phone starts ringing which is located on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Candice releases his hands as he walks around the bed to the nightstand where he picks up his phone seeing Shaun Hart is calling him. Chris answers and puts to phone on speaker.
CHRIS PAGE: Shaun?
Shaun’s voice is heard coming through the speaker of the phone.
SHAUN HART: Hey man, this is certainly not the call I wanted to have to make but I felt like I needed to be the one to tell you that the IIW has released Justin from his contract effective immediately.
CHRIS PAGE: Wait, what?
SHAUN HART: I can’t get into the specifics of it all but he’s no longer with us in the IIW and the International Championship has been vacated. It also means that you have to find a partner to take his place on Mayhem.
I guess this is the right time to thank myself for having an enterprise of talent to call upon that would be more than willing to lend a little more credibility to the IIW even if for just one night.
CHRIS PAGE: How the hell do you guys let a heat seeker like York out of his contract? That’s a pretty stupid decision, but hey it’s you and Osh’s show.
SHAUN HART: I can tell you that it was more on York’s side than the IIW’s, but it doesn’t change that you have to find a partner or you’re going to have to go it alone.
Let’s be fair… I don’t need a partner to mop the floor with Milli Vanilli, much like I haven’t needed to rely on anyone but myself and my abilities to be as successful as I’ve become in the last thirty-something odd years. I’m one of the few guys in this industry that doesn’t need to look for work because work comes looking for me. When the masses want attention and spotlight they don’t call your names… they call mine.
Why is that?
I wonder why so many different federations CALL ME over me calling them? I don’t have to wonder because I’ve said it time and time again that there’s only ONE needle mover within this industry… me. It’s one thing to talk your shit from a distance versus stepping to me man to man because that’s always been a little hard for you to do. What drives me right here, right now is knowing that I could theoretically defend the Tag Titles on back-to-back shows before taking one of the pillars of this federation and putting him out to pasture… convincingly.
Your downfall has already started.
Neither of you stands a freaking chance.
CHRIS PAGE: It’s a good thing I had the Freebird rule evoked. I know exactly who to call.
Chris hangs up on Shaun as he pivots his attention back toward Candice who has one of those “I told you so” looks centered on Page.
CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: See babe. You’ve been here the entire time.
CHRIS PAGE: It was all so… real.
Chris states as he looks down at the phone in his hand.
CHRIS PAGE: Well shit, I guess I need to make a few calls.
Chris scrolls through his phone when he comes to rest on a number. Chris hits call and places the phone to his ear. It rings for several seconds before Chris starts to state.
CHRIS PAGE: Hey man, I have an interesting situation that you might want to get in on Monday Night on Mayhem….
We fade to black.
A fucking dream! It was a dream!
… or was it?
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