NO ESCAPE
Nick Stuart: ReVival 25 is almost in the books, bringing us that much closer to Culture Shock! It’s been a hectic night thus far, but things may get even more chaotic with our next scheduled feature… an in-ring interview with none other than the PRIME Universal Champion, REZIN!
Richard Parker: Provided somebody got him away from Hayes and Ivan. Am I hearing right that the two of them pretty much destroyed the entire medical wing?
Nick Stuart: I’m hearing a lot of conflicting reports right now, but for now, let’s go to the ring, where our man Simon Tillier is waiting!
The shot goes to the ring, where the aforementioned Tillier stands smiling to the camera with a fresh mic in his hand. His voice comes in over the PA system.
Simon Tillier: Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, please welcome to the ring, the UNIVERSAL–
“Put Em In the Grave” by Jedi Mind Tricks hits the PA. If the Alamo had a basement, they’d still hear the pop.
“RRRAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”
Nick Stuart: WHOA, NELLY!
Heralded by a certifiably earth-shaking reaction, “the Queen of the Ring” Lindsay Troy emerges from the entry-way. PRIME’s President and CEO takes a moment on the stage to bask in an ovation fit for royalty. The procession down the rampway is a casual one, taking the time to shake hands and make contact with the fans crowding at the barricade.
Richard Parker: Buckle up, Nick, cause I think we’re taking things off script here!
Nick Stuart: Couldn’t be more on the money, Rich! I’m not sure where this is going, but with Lindsay Troy making a rare in-ring appearance tonight on the final ReVival before Culture Shock, anything is sure to go down!
In the ring, a confused Simon Tillier checks his notes. Did he make a rookie mistake and forget who he was interviewing tonight? Meanwhile, Troy procures a microphone of her own from the gracious Vince Howard at ringside, before ascending the steps and entering the ring. The music fades out, leaving the junior reporter standing there stammering in the presence of the wrestling legend.
Simon Tillier: Well, uhm… um… good evening, Ms. Troy. May I ask what brings you out here this evening?
LT throws an arm around the junior reporter and gives him an amiable shake.
Lindsay Troy: Simon, my friend, I just came out here cause I wanted to tell you that you’ve been doing great work lately.
Simon Tillier: Um… really?
Lindsay Troy: Of course. I know not everyone here appreciates you, but I do.
Simon Tillier: Wow! Thank you!
Lindsay Troy: Don’t mention it. In fact, because you’ve been doing such great work, I’ve decided to give you the rest of the night off!
Simon Tillier: Really? Okay, but, well, uhm… I supposed to be interviewing–
Lindsay Troy: Oh, I know, but you don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got it handled from here.
Simon Tillier: Well… alrighty then.
Timidly, Tillier makes his exit, leaving the Queen to her ring, and likewise her crowd.
Lindsay Troy: San Antonio… HOW ARE WE FEELING?!
“RRRAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”
She beams with pride as the raucous cheer from the Texan PRIMEates carries on for several moments.
Lindsay Troy: That’s what I like to hear. It’s been a great show thus far, and we’re about to wrap things up! Then, it’s on to CULTURE SHOCK!
Gratuitous pop as she points to the massive “CULTURE SHOCK” sign hanging in the corner of the Freeman Coliseum.
Lindsay Troy: But first, something needs to be addressed. Something that’s been bugging me for some time now, to the point where it can’t be ignored any longer. So, without further adieu…
She points commandingly toward the entrance.
Lindsay Troy: RAISIN… get your ugly ass out here!
“RRRAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”
Nick Stuart: She’s calling out the Universal Champion!
Richard Parker: Really? For a minute there, I thought she was calling out Catherine Alice Raisin, prominent geologist and an early pioneer for female scientists. Although yeah, I guess it makes sense, when you consider she’s been dead for nearly eighty years.
Nick Stuart: Rich, while I’m happy that you’ve been reading that historical encyclopedia set I got you for your birthday, this is hardly the time or place!
LT patiently paces in the ring, tapping the mic lightly against her shoulder with every step. Her eyes fixate on the entry-way.
But seconds pass into moments.
Moments go into a full minute.
Nick Stuart: We know that Rezin was earlier involved in a backstage fracas with the two men who will be vying for his Universal Championship at Culture Shock!
Richard Parker: Is that still going? Cause my phone keeps blowing up with these security alerts about brawls happening all over the arena…
Nick Stuart: The Enemigos are certainly stretched thin tonight.
The crowd noise steadily gets more and more impatient. As does PRIME’s President.
Lindsay Troy: Listen, dipshit… either you can come out here now, or I can come back there and bring you out myself. And we both know how that’s going to play out, so save us all the time, and save yourself the trouble!
Some cheers, as many fans would enjoy the prospect of seeing that. But as the echoed reverberations of Troy’s final words slowly fade out, a tense silence. All eyes watch the curtain…
…
…and ”I Have A Prepared Statement” hits the PA.
“BBBRRROOOAAAOOOHHH!!!”
The reaction is mixed, but nevertheless thunderous. Foregoing the standard affair of strobing lights and billowing smoke to simulate the effect of marijuana-induced madness, the Universal ANTI-Champion Rezin steps through the curtain with little pomp or circumstance. He comes with the tell-tale burlap sack slung over his shoulder, and a cold, killer’s gaze trained on the Queen standing tall in the ring.
Nick Stuart: Whether you love him or hate him, there are few that can deny the impact this man has made in a PRIME wrestling ring in the past year. A path of conviction, craftiness, and chaos, and one that against all odds led him to becoming the current Universal Champion!
Richard Parker: Universal ANTI-Champion, Nick… or whatever that means.
Nick Stuart: Well, he definitely fancies himself to be the antithesis to everything that’s ever been conventionally associated with the status of champion. But be that as it may, it remains to be seen if the Escape Artist’s accomplishment is more than just a fluke, as he faces his first title defense at Culture Shock here in two weeks!
Richard Parker: Provided he gets there first! Let’s not forget who he’s stepping into the ring with!
Rezin’s trip down the aisle is slow, but uneventful. He brushes by the fans, his eyes never leaving Troy in the ring. He slides the sack under the ropes before himself rolling in, and returning his “hostage” to its place over his shoulder.
The music cuts. Rezin stands waiting. There’s a mic in his pocket, but for the moment, he shows no interest in using it, instead continuing to stare across the ring at the PRIME President and CEO. Troy holds out her hand and looks into the crowd.
Lindsay Troy: Let’s hear it once more for the Universal Champion, everyone!
“BBBRRROOOAAAOOOHHH!!!”
Troy mockingly applauds. Rezin continues giving her the same dour expression.
Lindsay Troy: Speaking of… the belt, please?
LT flicks her fingers, wanting something. Initially, Rezin doesn’t move….
But then Troy’s smirk widens, and her head goes to the side. She knows he doesn’t need to tell him twice.
Richard Parker: Oof… this tension, huh?
Nick Stuart: These two are no strangers to one another within the ring, and from what I’m told, the wounds are still fresh. Still, I’ve never seen the normally tenacious and out-of-control Rezin subjugated quite like this!
Finally, Rezin pulls the cord on the sack to loosen it. Rather than hand it over, he drops the Universal Title at the Queen’s feet and backs away. His expression is still one of cold defiance.
Troy winces as she looks at the championship belt she herself once held, along with countless other wrestling legends, now lying at her feet. She picks it up and gives it a lookover. The gleam of the gold has been dulled substantially by a layer of grime presumably applied by its current holder.
Lindsay Troy: (shaking her head) Well, this has seen better days. Really wish you knew the value of this title… or that you just cared one iota about what it meant. But then again, I guess you don’t really care about anything…
She notices his hand is outstretched, open and waiting. Smirking again, but lingering for just the briefest of moments, LT relinquishes the belt back to its holder. Never taking his brooding eyes off of her, Rezin haphazardly tosses it back into its sack and ties it off.
Lindsay Troy: You know, Erik, you seem to think that I hate you. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. The fact is, I pity you.
Seething with hate, the Goat Bastard sneers.
Lindsay Troy: I pity the fact that you’re beyond help. Beyond the ability to grow up, or be educated. You’re perpetually stuck in a state of arrested development, and that won’t ever change. Honestly, I could spend the rest of this night kicking your ass from pillar to post, and these fans would probably love every second of it, but in the end, nothing will get through to you. In fact, you’d chalk it up to a “courageous act of defiance in the face of tyranny,” or whatever.
The cockiness in Troy’s grin melts slightly into one of contempt.
Lindsay Troy: What I HATE, Raisin, is having to constantly monitor you. Having to constantly clean up after your bullshit. Having to constantly deal with the headaches you bring me every time you throw a temper tantrum and go on a rampage. I honestly don’t know if your issue is just that your mother didn’t give you enough attention as a child, or–
Rezin: THAT’S ENOUGH…
“OOOOOOOHHH…”
Richard Parker: Think she may have hit a nerve there?
The edge in the Escape Artist’s voice could cut through diamond. His abruptness brings Troy to a moment of pause. Then, the smirk returns to her face as she leaves the floor to the visibly rattled Universal Champion.
Rezin: Look, I was already havin’ a pretty rotten night, and havin’ to stand here and look at your face, knowing ya straight up bogarted my interview spot, ain’t really makin’ my mood any lighter, so if ya don’t mind, get to whatever point ya gotta get out there, cause I got dope to smoke and chalupas to chow on!
Lindsay Troy: (rolling her eyes) Sure, I’d hate to keep you away from your weird three-hour long independent movies by a guy who’s name nobody can pronounce.
Rezin: For the last time, his name is WERNER HERZ–
Lindsay Troy: Oh my God, I don’t care! Nobody cares! And I’m running out of patience, so let me make this clear to you here and now…
She takes a step toward the self-proclaimed Universal Anti-Champion, and pauses.
Lindsay Troy: Wait, one sec…
From her pocket, she pulls out a tube of Lysol air spray and mists the air around the filth-covered Goat Bastard. Amid a cloud of slowly falling fragrance particles, Rezin’s vexed grimace finds the camera.
Nick Stuart: She clearly came prepared tonight!
With the air now halfway breathable around him, Troy freely steps up and gets into the face of the obstinate champion.
Lindsay Troy: As long as you carry that title–my company’s title–you represent the very best in this industry. With that said, at Culture Shock, if you pull that same shit you pulled two weeks ago at ReVival 24, then I promise you, Erik, it will be the last mistake you ever make in PRIME.
The PRIMEates cheer. Troy lingers for a moment, staring daggers back at Rezin, inches from his face. A beat later, Rezin’s eyebrow arches.
Rezin: …are you seriously THAT. FUCKIN’. STUPID, Lindz?
“OOOOOOOHHH…”
The smirk fades from Lindsay Troy’s face. A devilish one in turn appears on the face of the Goat Bastard as he backs out of punching distance.
Richard Parker: Yeah, I’d say there’s a very likely chance he’s not going to make it to Culture Shock now.
Nick Stuart: He’s definitely on thin ice! I don’t know of anyone who would ever get away saying something like that to the face of the Queen of the Ring!
Rezin begins to pace back and forth.
Rezin: Seriously, did ya wake up today and forget who you’re dealin’ with here? Have I ever once misled YOU or ANY OF THESE PEOPLE as to the kinda person I am? Have ya ever known me to be anything different? Did you know me any differently when I was given’ ya those same headaches over ten years ago, when Dan Ryan briefly put ya in charge of his little tax evasion scam of a federation?
He savagely shakes his head.
Rezin: Allow me to remind you, then, of my personal policy. See, when I face royalty, I don’t bend knees; I break ‘em! And regardless of what you might think, I ain’t beholden to a goddamb thing you say! So ya wanna toss your threats around, like they’d change ANYTHING? Well then fuck it… go ahead and FIRE ME!
He throws to sack back to LT’s feet.
Nick Stuart: Whoa…
Richard Parker: Did he just… throw down the Universal Title?
Rezin angrily points at the belt-containing bag on the canvas between them.
Rezin: I didn’t ask to be your damb champion, and sure as shit don’t need to be one to get what I want outta this friggin’ sport! The hell ya need me for, if I’m that much of a pain in your ass? It’s not like ya don’t already got two worthy contenders, back there beatin’ the hell out of each other. So have at it. Good luck, godspeed, and go fuck yourself…
Rezin goes to the ropes to leave. Troy, now irate, shakes her head in disbelief.
Lindsay Troy: So that’s how you want to settle this? By walking away? Again? I’m not sure that would be considering very pUnK rO–
Rezin: (freezing midway through the ropes) FUUUUCK YOU, TROY! DO NOT EVEN SAY IT!
…
From the crowd, a chant begins to grow in volume…
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
The face of the Escape Artist turns lobster red. Troy folds her arms across her chest, smiling proudly.
Lindsay Troy: Seems like I don’t need to say anything.
Wildly slapping his face and forehead, Rezin tears himself away ropes and swiftly scoops up the sack containing the Universal Title back off the mat.
Nick Stuart: Well that was a quick change of heart!
Richard Parker: Hey now… federations, championships, these things all come and go. But punk rock credibility? That lasts for ages!
With his “hostage” again slung over his shoulder, the furious Rezin points daringly back at the PRIME President and CEO.
Rezin: OH YEAH, WELL I’LL TELL YA WHAT, TRRROOYYYY… if you’re SO DAMB CONCERNED ‘bout me WALKIN’ OUT of Culture Shock, then TRY and STOP ME!
He is pacing back and forth, practically frothing at the mouth.
Rezin: Chain me to the ring post, if ya dare! Surround the ring with a BAJILLION Enemigos, if ya think they can stop me! Use all of your power as President and Charlie-Echo-Oscar of PRIME and GIVE ME YOUR WORST, cause the BOTH of us know that EYE can withstand ANYTHING YA THROW AT ME!!
Troy slowly nods. Not because she agrees, but because she knows she finally has him where she wants him.
Lindsay Troy: I’m glad to hear that, Erik. Because I’ve given this some thought, and I’ve come up with a fairly appropriate solution to this little problem. So, at Culture Shock, you’ll be defending your Universal Championship…
She points to the PRIMEview, just in time for a new graphic to appear. The three competitors for the Universal Title, Rezin, Hayes, and Ivan, all stand before the Culture Shock logo as before.
Only now, they stare back at the camera from the other side of a chainlink fence.
Lindsay Troy: …inside of a CELL!
“RRRAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”
Nick Stuart: What an announcement! Rezin! Hanlon! Stanislav! Triple threat for the Universal Title inside of an unforgiving CELL! There will TRULY be no escape for the Escape Artist in this event!
Rezin goes through a wide range of emotions that would make you think he’s going through the grieving process. Shock. Anger. Bargaining. Acceptance.
And then, for some reason, bemusement? As he slowly digests this turn of events, his grinding teeth form themselves again into a hungry grin.
Rezin: Heh… ya know what? I’ll take it…
He explodes.
Rezin: CAUSE YA AIN’T TRAPPIN’ ME IN THERE WITH THEM! NAAWW… YOU’RE TRAPPIN’ THEM IN THERE WITH ME!!
LT scoffs.
Lindsay Troy: Whatever you say, dipshit. Just remember to show up. Now beat it. We’re finished here.
Rezin’s eyes widen.
Rezin: …oh, are we?
He drops the sack once again. Off comes his battlevest.
Rezin: You may be… but I ain’t.
The mic hits the canvas, the Goat Bastard stands ready.
Nick Stuart: Oh boy… he might be barking up the wrong tree here!
Richard Parker: Only this Goat Bastard would be so bold to pick a fight with his boss!
More than willing to oblige in giving this punk exactly what he’s asking for, Troy drops her own mic and removes her suit jacket. The Freeman Coliseum begins to fill with growing cheers of anticipation, as the two seem set to collide.
Nick Stuart: Are we going to see these two titans come to blows?!
…no, we are not.
Not today, anyway, as the Escape Artist finally backs down, retrieves his sack, and rolls over the ropes to exit the ring.
“BOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Snarling, the Goat Bastard backs up the ramp, eyes never leaving the Queen of the Ring who glares back at him from inside the ring.
Nick Stuart: Seems as though Rezin thought better of it tonight!
Richard Parker: It’s not the bravest decision, but living to fight another day is exactly how the Goat Bastard has thrived in this business over the years.
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
“YOU’RE NOT PUNK ROCK!!”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!!
Despite the chants from the crowd, the Universal ANTI-Champion is all smiles as he reaches the stage and backs toward the curtain.
Only the curtain comes open before he can get there. Someone is suddenly standing behind him. Someone that suddenly pops the entire capacity crowd to their feet.
“RRRAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”
Nick Stuart: HAYES HANLON IS HERE!!
And Rezin turns around in time to have his face absolutely HAMMERED by the former Universal Champ.
Rezin: BLEGHK!!
Rezin staggers, dances, and tumbles across the stage as Hanlon lights him up with a flurry of lefts and rights. The audience is going WILD! Soon, the curtain parts open once again as a third joins the fray…
“BOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Nick Stuart: And now IVAN STANISLAV!!
Richard Parker: How long have these guys been fighting?! How are they not dehydrated by this point!?
Hanlon, peeling Rezin back to his feet, gets an idea as he sees the Russian charging at them and instinctively pitches the Goat Bastard straight at him. Ivan’s waiting arms pull the Universal Champion into a devastating POWERSLAM onto the stage!
Before he can rise, Hayes is on the big man’s back, peppering the back of his head with more punches. Stanislav struggles to his feet, beneath which the unlucky Rezin is trampled. Back at the ring, Lindsay Troy is rallying the troops and redirecting security to break up the bedlam happening on the stage.
Nick Stuart: ReVival 25 is on the verge of descending into absolute chaos if this keeps up! But no matter the case, the Universal “Anti” Champion won’t have an easy time ridding himself of his two challengers!
Richard Parker: I can at least appreciate that LT had the courtesy to put them in a CELL! It’s gonna take four walls of reinforced fencing to keep these guys contained!
Nick Stuart: Couldn’t agree more, partner! We’re seeing right now a preview of what may go down at Culture Shock! But for the time being, we need security to get control of this situation! Real quick, let’s head to the back while we clean up before the main event to come!
Enemigos corral the carnage among Hayes, Ivan, and Rezin, who continue to brawl their way through the curtain. Well… Hanlon and Stanislav brawl, in any case. The Universal Anti-Champion is more or less a pinball bouncing between bumpers within the fray.
We then cut backstage. One last time.