War Games Hype.

[Zack Malibu 0]

COLE

We are just two days away from a spectacular Syndicated broadcast, perhaps the biggest in the near five year history of our company, featuring the broadcast television debut of one of the most brutal matches ever imagined. Eight men, two teams of four, confined to two wrestling rings surrounded by walls of steel. Throw in whatever weaponry they get their hands on, mix in a history of tension and brutality, and we could see something that network television is going to regret putting on the air.

 

COACH

It's guaranteed bloodshed! No pun intended.

 

COLE

It all came to a head last week when Anglesault, the namesake of this very wresting organization, came back in a big way, announcing that he didn't like the events since he left his company in the hands of others, and he was taking the reins back! His first action was to condense the brutality into War Games, because as everyone has obviously seen over the past six months, it seems every week something is going on between The Wildcards, Zack Malibu, and now Landon Maddix, Leon Rodez, and the Global Party Exchange. While none of these men are in action tonight, there is plenty of verbal warfare to go around as we head into this Saturday. Here now, is a special piece dedicated to both teams as we await War Games.

 

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In a room...somewhere, four men who six months ago you never thought you'd see co-existing in the same room are pacing. Thinking. Waiting.

 

MALIBU

Anticipation is a killer. No matter how many times I've gotten my hands on you, Blank, it's not enough. No matter how much I make you bleed, it's not enough. Now, here I am, 48 hours from getting you inside the walls of a cage...and it's like deja vu. The last time we were in a cage Bruce, that's where you three Wildcards made your true intentions known. The walls of steel were the beginning, and this Saturday, they'll be our end. The only thing is, I'm not doing this for me. NONE OF THIS, has been for me. All of this...all of what I want to do to you, the way I want to inflict pain, the fact that I want to watch you bleed and suffer...doesn't it scare you that I'm doing all that for a little girl? Doesn't it scare you that I'm doing it for the mother of my child? That these feelings, MY feelings, my aggression, don't stem from anything you did to me. It all goes back to that fateful night. The night that you took it all away from the business, and made it personal. The night that has replayed in my mind every minute, every hour, every day, because I couldn't be there to stop it. To help them. To protect them. I will never, Bruce, NEVER, forgive any of you for what you did. Every step you take, you make a mistake. Every action has a consequence. Setting foot in my home, approaching my family the way you did, was the biggest mistake of all. This Saturday, you'll have to deal with what could prove to be a fatal mistake. That you've taken four men, best friends and bitter enemies at various points, and unified them. That you've taken four of the most talented wrestlers in the world today and turned them into vigilantes. Fighters. Bonded not only by the actions commited by yourselves, but by a word that friend or foe, always rang true in our heads...RESPECT. RESPECT for this business. RESPECT for this company. RESPECT for each other. Respect.

 

Malibu backs away from the camera, fuming, allow Scotty Static to get all up in its grill.

 

STATIC

The man has a point, don'tcha think? Wildcards, you were brought here to be the saving grace...to punk us off our turf when we were trying to create a newer, better OAOAST. Instead, you turned out worse than any Civil War, any Untouchables, any Hooligans could have possibly imagined. You've brought this company to its knees, you've brought this man to his knees, to the brink of insanity...and you brought us into it. You brought Scotty Static and Johnny Jax, the best damn tag team this company has ever seen, into the war. We don't care that you jump us from behind. We don't care that you crack us with a chair, slice us with barbed wire...we're street...we're REAL. THIS is REAL. A man's family? A BABY? Where are your heads at? How could you think that friend or foe, we wouldn't stand behind this man? I'm not his best friend...neither is Johnny. We've given him more hell than any man could handle...but we RESPECT HIM. We respect him enough to help him clean up his mess. This ain't the SWF. You ain't the big dogs in the yard, baby. This is OUR turf, and if we gotta forcibly remove you...if we gotta make you say uncle and scream, then we're gonna bring it. Two rings surrounded by a cage...sounds like a day at the playground to me...only thing is, we're playin' for keeps.

 

Static backs away again, and Rodez turns away from Zack, and looks into the cam...

 

*~*~*BZZZZZKKFFFFFKTTTTT*~*~*

 

All of a sudden, the feed is interrupted, and now it's a vision of four other men...the four men who will be on the opposite side of Zack Malibu and co. this Saturday.

 

MADDIX

Pardon the interruption but...are you KIDDING me? You're making us wait for this cliche dribble? "Waaah, waaah, you went after my baby, Brucie...". Malibu, you are a WHINER. A crybaby. A FRAUD. How long have you been saying you were going to make The Wildcards pay? All talk, no action...what does your precious family think of that, poster boy!? What do they think when you can't get the job done! You can't protect them, you can't defend them...every week you come out looking worse than the one before, because you can't handle the fact that you've finally met your match!

 

Sneering, an overzealous Maddix steps away, allowing the leader of the pack, Bruce Blank, into view.

 

BLANK

Zack Malibu, I don't care about your intentions. I don't care about your path of rage, your mission of vengeance. What I care about is how you choose your words. That you treat this as some type of game. Did I not prove to you, months back, that this is very, VERY real? There's a four letter word that your two buddies are familiar with, but it's not just a dang catchphrase. Reality is a dangerous thing, Zack. I have no regrets, and even less remorse. I will beat and bleed you and anyone who gets into my way for business or pleasure, rain or shine, because I LOVE THE FEELING. The rush of pain, the sight of blood....ooooh how it gets to me, Zack. How I enjoy the fact that I'm in your head. I OWN YOU, boy. I will forever be a part of you, something that you can't let go, because I took you to the edge, the furthest you've ever been! You had no idea what you were getting into when we signed on, but now you know! Now you know what The Wildcards are all about! You have witnessed hell, pure physical and mental HELL thanks to me, because when God made the devil, he was just playing around...when he wanted to create PURE, UNMATCHED EVIL, HE CREATED BRUCE BLANK! THAT'S WHAT I AM ZACK! I AM NOBODY'S HERO AND EVERYBODY'S ENEMY. I AM THE MONSTER IN THE CLOSET, NOT THE BEDTIME STORY. I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN PUT AN END TO THIS, AND THAT'S BY PUTTING YOU OUT OF YOUR GOD DAMN MISERY. Saturday night. If I were you, I'd treasure the next 48 hours, Zack. Just don't forget to say goodbye, because I swear to you boy, there is no second chance, no backing down. Syndicated is the day the worlds collide, Zack. When good and evil meet for the final time. So you tell me, boy...how do ya'll expect to win when you're up against something that knows no limits, no remorse? Something that ENJOYS pain, and doesn't shy away from it? You can preach to your fans and talk into all the cameras you want, but you heed these words...the only way you're leavin' the arena on Saturday night is in an ambulance.