PROMO: Of Guns and Knives...

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

The locker room door reads “Smarks World Order”. And as soon as that is clear, a bleach-blonde and his blonde girlfriend approach it.

 

“Mike, are you sure you should be making a pact with the same person who will try to tear you limb from limb on Metal?” It is Katelyn, the beautiful valet of the Amazin’ one, Mike Van Siclen.

 

“Of course I am, Kate. If I have to be in a match against a freak and an Irish freak, teamed up with the person who is soon to be my hated rival, I figure I should at least try not to get killed.” Mike Van Siclen’s voice echoes throughout the hallway as he speaks.

 

“Yes, but Mike, think about who you’re dealing with! It’s the s-W-freaking-o, Mike! Fugue’s probably got Myers and Jenkins behind that door, waiting to kill you.”

 

“And? In that case, he gets arrested, and I become number one contender by default. I think that’s a pretty fair tradeoff.”

 

Katelyn sighs. “For the record, I think you’re fucking nuts.”

 

Mike shoots her a smile. “I like to think that that’s one of my many strengths.” The Harrison Hitman knocks on the door, three times, and leans against it, looking for an answer.

 

“Come in!” A cheery voice inside the room beckons him and Katelyn in.

 

Mike opens the door, cautiously… but seeing nobody but Fugue there, breathes a sigh of relief. He smiles. “Fugue! Long time no see, bro. We had some good times back when I was with you guys, didn’t we?”

 

“That we did, Michael.”

 

“So… how’s life?”

 

“Treating me rather well, actually. I trust you saw my match against Mak on Wrath?”

 

“Indeed I did, Tony. Good match. Probably the best free-TV match since mine with Jacob Helmsley on the same show.”

 

“Yes, Mike… it seems our paths cross a lot in these World title tournaments.”

 

“How so, Fugue? I’m definitely interested.”

 

“Remember the match with me and you, in the World title tournament where Renegade won?”

 

“Ah, yes. Dandy number you did on me, that was. It was a fluke, though… we’ll see who the real better man is on Metal, I assure you.”

 

“I’m sure we will, Mike. Now then… we do have a match tonight, you know.”

 

“That I do, Tony. Me and you against Thor and Tim Dillon. Just like old times, right?”

 

“Just because I’m your tag team partner… that doesn’t mean I have to work with you, much less like you. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I have to respect you.”

 

“But you see, Tony, you do have to respect me… you see, I can throw you to the wolves any time I want. If I want, I can leave you alone in there, with the canes and tables and ladders and chairs… I can strand you there with Thor and Timmy-boy if I really want to.”

 

“I could do the very same to you, Michael. I’m sure you realize that.”

 

“I do. But, see, my point here is this… I haven’t lost yet in September. I don’t plan on that ending tonight. So, I’m here to ask… are we going to work together, and not get ourselves killed… or are we going to work against each other, and get ourselves killed.”

 

“Mike, Mike… I sense you misunderstand my motives. I don’t want you to come into our match fatigued or anything… my, that would be too easy. I would much rather cause you physical damage with you at full strength… much more interesting.”

 

“… You realize why I think you’re lying to me there, don’t you?”

 

“That I do, Mike, but you see… you have to trust me. Remember… Thor is three hundred and fifty pounds. Nearly double you. If he wanted to, he could break you in half. And if I wanted to… I could let him.”

 

“Ah, Fugue, see, that’s where you’re wrong… because, as much as I may loathe your stable, I hold no grudge against you. We were always pretty close, actually.”

 

“Mike… I always thought you were a freak.”

 

“Beyond that, though… we were pretty good friends. And I would be more than willing to renew those ties if it meant another victory, another face to rub it into. I may not like you… but I despise Thor, and we all know Tim Dillon isn’t in our league. I would not leave you out in the cold against those two, because I respect you enough to not let you get beaten by a couple of overpaid jobbers… if I did that, what do I look like when I beat you? A guy who beat a guy who lost to two overpaid jobbers? No, no, I don’t want that…”

 

“Mike, you’re not making it very clear what you do want.”

 

Mike sighs heavily. “Fugue… I want to win. It’s in my blood. I come from a family where winning is everything… and when they watch me, on Crimson tonight? I don’t want to have them watch their boy be beaten by an Irish shrimp and a Norse ‘god’. I don’t want to have to put them, or myself, through the misery of being beaten. I want to win this match, Fugue, just like I’d want to win any match… and I will… even if it means wearing the sWo colors one more time.”

 

“I see where you’re coming from, Michael. You want to offer me a pact or something?”

 

“Matter of fact, I do. I won’t touch you, I won’t leave you hanging at all… so long as you do the same. I’ll cover your back… as long as you do the same for me. Until Metal, of course…” Mike smiles. “Then I’m going to have to beat your ass.”

 

Fugue looks at Mike, trying to see through him, if there’s anything to see through. Mike looks at him with a reassuring smile, and Katelyn sits behind him, being generally cheerful-as-usual. Fugue sighs, now. “I accept your pact, Mike… but that doesn’t mean my stable will. I can’t control Mak, or Matt, or Spike… who knows what they might do to you. They seem to feel that pain is a joy that must be spread unto others… I can’t control them. But as for you… I won’t lay a finger on you. Hell, I’ll even try to like you. I might, even. Just for tonight, though… until Metal, we aren’t friends… but we won’t treat each other as enemies. This is business… this is like a song. It keeps the same pace… not everything is the same, and yet, all is alike… the pitch rises and falls… the beat, it keeps going… you know the music. Let’s change the beat… at least until Metal.”

 

“… I don’t know what the hell you just said, but I’ll take it as a yes.”

 

“Good, good… until Metal… and tonight, we are a unit… strong, no matter what that super-heavyweight wants to throw at us.”

 

Mike smiles, getting up. “All right!” He low-fives the Musical Madman as he begins to exit, Katelyn following behind. The door opens and closes yet again, and Fugue is left, sitting alone in the room. He smiles.

 

“Be prepared, Mike… watch your back… you will hear the symphony of the mind, and you will feel the pain of the body…”

 

-=:fade to black…

[Guest Insanityman]

Your saying I'm over-rated? Kidding, because I agree.

 

 

Great promo dude, I loved the interaction and new girlfriend is the rock... Dillon would know.

 

Now to finish my promo... *shakes fist at you for diverting my attention*.

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

Bump.

 

Read or die.

[Guest Powerplay]

Sad story of betrayl in the end. Fugue, you bastard! But nicely written; Fugue has to be the hardest person to write, being so damned metaphorical all the time, but you did it quite well.

[Guest kelloggs]

That's why you never write Fugue's character. You send him part of a promo, stand back and just let him wax poetry.