Promo- The Doubting Thomas

[The Ill One 0]

Wayne Blank rounds a corner in the empty hallways of the Carolina Center and halts in confusion. He grunts and drops the duffel bags onto the ground before he glances around in an attempt to figure out this backstage labyrinth. He picks them back up with a grunt as he continues to walk down the dimly lit hall. He sighs in frustration, feeling rather isolated from his early arrival without Bruce, but continues to wander down the hallway. He barely hears faint footsteps and can’t help but to slow down his pace in paranoia. He continues to listen but shrugs off the noise as he picks back up a normal pace until he wears the same noise. He abruptly stops, holding his breath, and listening for any sound-

 

Nothing.

 

He chuckles at his own paranoia, in an attempt to shake it off, and continues his walk down the seemingly endless hallway. He slows down his pace to squint left and right in an attempt to find the Blank’s locker room. Finally he spots the door to his right and sees “Blank” scribbled on a post it note, stuck against the door. He sighs in relief as he opens the door and enters into the dark room. He slowly flips the light switch, half expecting somebody to be waiting for him, but finds the room to be quite empty. He looks over to the side as he slips his older brother’s duffel bag off his shoulder and grabs one of the two folding steel chairs. Being a man of simple needs he walks to center of the ring where he sets up the chair, plops down, and drops the duffel bag for him to rummage in. But his heart skips a beat as he swears to have heard more footsteps. He remains still and waits for the door to be flung open-

 

Nothing.

 

He grumbles at himself being too uptight as he continues to go through his duffel bag but suddenly stops. He looks up at the door, convinced that he heard another noise, and quietly searches for his infamous cattle prod. A few seconds pass by and the fear passes over him until the door does swing open with a man standing in the doorway. Better yet, Andrew Rickmen standing in the doorway. He leaps to his feet and gulps as he puts up his fists.

 

“Step down, kid, I’m not here to start shit,” IL calmly says.

 

Wayne Blank doesn’t buy a word of it. “Last time I saw you, you tried to kill me!”

 

Insane Luchador steps into the room and slowly shuts the locker room’s door. He looks back at Wayne and says, “No, actually, I tried to break your neck.”

 

“You better leave here or…” Wayne begins but fumbles for something intimidating to say.

 

“Or?” IL asks in amusement as he grabs the other folding chair by one hand.

 

He advances towards the panicking Wayne and pauses as he seems at a swinging distance. The younger Blank brother prays IL doesn’t see the sweat collecting near his brow or the cotton mouth gulps but, as a Blank, he tries to remain tough. Insane Luchador grabs the folding chair with the other hand and simply sets it up near Wayne. He sits down and leans forward with his arms resting on his legs.

 

“Sit down,” IL says.

 

“No,” Wayne defiantly replies.

 

“Christ, just sit down,” IL says in aggravation.

 

Wayne Blank looks down into Insane Luchador’s vivid eyes in an attempt to read his mind, but decides he doesn’t really want to get into IL’s mind anyway. So he slowly lets his fists down and cautiously sits down.

 

“So, uh, what do you want?” Wayne asks.

 

Rickmen sarcastically acts offended. “What? A guy can’t have a chat anymore?”

 

“Don’t be wasting my time, Rickmen, because, uh, I’ll go…”

 

“Go Brokeback Mountain on me?” IL asks as he smirks at Wayne’s cowboy attire.

 

“Shut up! Why the hell should I talk to a guy who tried to ki…”

 

IL grunts.

 

Wayne rolls his eyes. “A guy who tried to break my neck!”

 

“Listen, I want some answers about Bruce.”

 

Wayne gets offended as he quickly blurts, “I’m no traitor!”

 

IL calmly says, “Nobody thinks you are. My question is why Bruce is afraid of me?”

 

Wayne laughs. “Afraid of you? Of you? Of all the people…”

 

He frowns but regains a calm demeanor. “He’s been ducking out from fighting me.”

 

“That’s not true… he just doesn’t want to waste his time fighting you,” Wayne says as his mind reels for a response.

 

“No, that’s not it. Because Bruce Blank is a fighting champion, huh?”

 

“All Blanks are!”

 

“Then why won’t he step into the ring with me, you know? How come he goes to such extreme measures…”

 

“Brilliant measures,” Wayne interrupts.

 

“Shut up. He’s hired somebody to legally change their name to Bruce Blank, he collapsed a god damn cage on me, and then he claimed Bird Flu. Bird fuckin’ Flu!” IL blurts with a laugh of disbelief.

 

Wayne doesn’t have any reply.

 

“But there’s more. Like how he invited people to challenge him for the Ultraviolent Title but still won’t face me. He lost his belt, Wayne, so what the hell does he have to lose? What possible excuse can he have?”

 

“He’s not afraid of you,” Wayne unconvincingly says as IL’s points bounce in his mind. “So why don’t you let go of this? Why do you have to go after my brother, huh?”

 

IL pauses. “Really want to know why, Blank? Because I left the SWF for a couple reasons and during the time I was gone, well, something had shifted. The Hardcore Gamers’ Championship was now the Ultraviolent Title. But I can take a little change, you know? But guess what, kid?”

 

“Don’t call me…”

 

IL doesn’t even acknowledge him. “There are very few things I’ve been good at in my life and even fewer things to be proud of. But you know what I was, hell, am good at?”

 

Silence.

 

“Wrestling, well actually hardcore wrestling. My other skills were pretty lackluster which one of the reasons I left for a bit but that’s not here nor there. So I left and tuned into the SWF, just checking up on things. Know what I saw? I saw this god damn hick pissing all over one of the only things I’ve been proud of, pissing all over people that I’ve fought. Trying to take away a part of my life, god damn it.”

 

“Shut up,” Wayne says and pauses in disbelief he said it. “You were gone, you still should be. It’s the Ultraviolent Title, get over it!”

 

IL grits his teeth and growls. “But there’s more… because from the second I returned your brother has been doing all in his power to avoid me. That’s not what an Ultraviolent Champion should be like, is it? That’s not what I expected from a guy who openly condescended on the history of the federation.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Wayne says but realizes he has nothing to say.

 

Insane Luchador stands up and looks down at Bruce Blank’s younger brother. He reaches down into his cargo’s pocket and pulls something out. He drops the folded piece of paper and lets it flutter towards Wayne, who snatches it out of the air. He opens it to realize it’s the contract Bruce had signed with IL earlier. He notices dried blood flakes circled around a fine print that he glances over. The circle's text basically stating that should the match not occur on said date then a replacement will be enforced or there can be a punishment of termination of contracts.

 

“He can’t avoid me forever,” IL says with a psychotic smile as turns around to leave.

 

Wayne stutters for an insult but Rickmen doesn’t even show interest towards him as he opens the door. He glances over his shoulder at Wayne who is staring down at the paper with a disgruntled, spacey look on his face. He smirks and leaves the room to let Wayne brood over IL’s words.

[Toxxic 0]

Fairly uncomplicated, as you'd expect from the Insane Luchador - "tell your brother he's a bitch and he should fight me!"

 

(Y)

[Bruce Blank 0]

"tell your brother he's a bitch and he should fight me!"

He had to make sure it was simple enough for Wayne to remember