THROWBACK

Revival 18 has arrived.

A stacked card is ahead of us.

Coral Avalon vs. Ivan Stanislav.

Hayes Hanlon vs. Ned Reform.

Brandon Youngblood vs. Just Scott.

FLAMBERGE vs. Rezin.

Nova vs. Cancer Jiles.

Stacked.

Yet, as the show is beginning to start, the man known as Dusk is not at home, about to watch the festivities about to take place. Instead, he is standing outside the door of an individual he has a past with. He’d received a note in the mail a few days beforehand from the surly man from Alabama. 

ReVival 18.

Bring whiskey.

-W

Dusk had done just that, which explains why he is carrying the largest bottle of Buffalo Trace he found. To say it was large would be an understatement. It is comically large, but he has a feeling tonight would be a night where the bottle (and the contents within said bottle) would be sorely needed.

He lifts his non-bottle carrying hand and is about to knock on the door when he pauses.

“What am I doing?” he asks himself before he shakes his head and proceeds to knock. A moment passes before the door opens and instead of coming face-to-face with the ‘Bama Bruiser himself, Dusk finds himself looking at a man just a couple of inches taller, with a much sexier beard, and a completely different complexion to him.

Dusk sighs.

Dusk: Hi Dametreyus.

The man built like a linebacker glares at Dusk.

Dusk: I can’t seem to recall all of our history and whether or not I may have superkicked you once or twice before.

Dam grunts. Twice. Dusk takes this as a possible answer.

Dusk: Wade asked me to come on through. If it is any consolation, I have brought alcohol.

Dam looks at the bottle of booze

Dametreyus: Nothin’ good comes with alcohol and him.

Dusk: I don’t disagree with you there and I seem to recall a few brawls between Wade and I being started after a few drinks so there stands a good chance that the same will take place tonight.

Dametreyus: Look–

Before he can finish though, another voice interjects. A voice with a certain gravelly southern drawl that you couldn’t misplace. 

Wade Elliott: Is that ‘ol Red Eyes? He’s alright, Dam.

As Dam begins to make a clearance for Dusk to enter the room, The Bad Dog shows up in that gap.

Wade Elliott: Wait, you brought a bottle, didn’tcha?

Wade sees the large bottle of Buffalo Trace in Dusk’s hands.

Wade Elliott: ‘Atta boy. C’mon in.

Dusk smiles at Dam before he steps inside and looks around to see a rather large room with a table in the middle, bags in the corner, and the strong odor of… something. He looks around before he spots the reason for said smell.

Dusk: Hey Nova.

The Starchild looks over at Dusk, the two of them seeing each other for the first time in years, and a smile appears on Nova’s face. The two had been tag partners on a few occasions after Nova ended his affiliation with Fuck You! and the two had never had a reason to fight with one another since. 

Dusk then looks over at Wade, who has made his way to the table and sits down in his chair. Dam returns to his seat as well. Dusk decides to sit across from Wade and places the bottle of Buffalo Trace in the center of the table.

Wade Elliott: Hard one t’find these days, nice work. We’ll crack ‘er open in a minute.

Dusk: Thanks. So, why the note? I didn’t know you to be one to write.

Wade Elliott: (Thumbing toward his security counterpart.) Dam’s poetry’s rubbed off on me. An’ figured you’re on yer way out. Can’t hurt to pour a drink, shoot the shit ‘bout the ol’ days fer a minute.

Dusk nods his head.

Dusk: You’ve been spending too much time with Lindsay, I take it.

A light smirk from the Southern Sparkplug, and a pair of sharp, knowing blue eyes toward the Lost Soul.

Wade Elliott: Somethin’ like that.

Dusk hears the words and notices the subtle shift in body language, the softening of Wade’s tone. He slowly nods his head before he reaches forward and opens the bottle of Buffalo Trace.

Dusk: You got any glasses around here?

Almost as if by magic, Wade produces four glasses from underneath the table and places them on the table. 

Wade Elliott: Didn’t think you’d ever open th’damn thing. Rack ‘em.

Wade snags the bottle and quickly pours the pair a glass, sliding one over to Dusk. He lifts it up for a cheer, and Wade reaches over with his own for a clink of the glass.

Wade Elliott: To th’old days. 

A smile appears on Dusk’s face. 

Dusk: To PRIME.

A grin through Wade’s grayed beard.

Wade Elliott: Good ‘nuff. 

Wade tips the glass back and the contents disappear down his throat. Dusk instead takes a long sip from the glass before placing it down on the table. Elliott refills his glass in the process.

Dusk: How ya doing with all the Paxton Ray shit?

Wade Elliott: (Grumbling.) Would’ve preferred t’beat his teeth in personally, ‘fore Lindsay shocked his ass.

Dusk: Yeah, I bet. [beat] Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on him.

Wade Elliott: ‘Magine yer gonna have t’git in line. ‘Long with everyone else. 

Dusk: Nah, I’m good. I imagine y’all will take care of him in due order.

Wade Elliott: He rears his head ‘round here again…

Elliott glances toward Dam, who replies with a strong nod.

Wade Elliott: …damn right we will.

Dusk: So Wade, what is all this?

Another small grin from the Son of a Bitch, swirling his glass.

Wade Elliott: Sometime in ‘08 we had a match fer the Intense Title. You were holdin’ it.

Dusk mulls it over, though he remembers the night clearly.

Wade Elliott: Hell’ve a match, I had yer number fer a minute. Grabbed a hammer from under the ring. Took a swing at’cha to finish it off.

Craig keeps eyes trained on the reminiscing Elliott, still swirling his whiskey.

Wade Elliott: But I missed, and ya clocked me right in the damn mouth. That big kick’ve yers square into that hammer, an’ square into my teeth.

Dusk remains ready. Those new to PRIME wouldn’t know how unpredictable the Bad Dog could be. He was well aware.

But instead, Wade throws back his glass, slides it toward the body, and reaches a hand across the table.

Wade Elliott: An’ I never gave ya the credit when it was due. You whipped me fair an’ square.

Dusk glances at Wade’s rough hand, and smile draws across his face before taking it in his own for the shake. 

Dusk: Never had someone hit me as fucking hard as you did. Figured we’re better across the ring from one another anyways. Better than teaming together. Remember when we teamed up to face Chandler Tsonda and Tyler Rayne?

Wade Elliott: Yeah, I ‘member us actually gettin’ that victory. I pinned Tsonda, right?

Dusk: Yeah. After I superkicked him. Stole the pinfall from me. Asshole.

Wade laughs. 

Wade Elliott: Better than you stalking me through the Kansas Coliseum. Still think I owe you an ass-whippin’ for that one.

Dusk: Yeah. Man. We were wild back then. And our pockets are a lot lighter as a result. 

Another grin appears on Elliott’s face.

Wade Elliott: Anyways, I know Lindsay put me on that list’ve yers. An’ I won’t lie, I could probably use another ass-whippin’. That is…if yer up for it.

The Bad Dog flashes a knowing glance as he re-fills his glass. Dam manages a grin of his own, arms crossed over his big chest.

Dusk: Of course. [chuckles] When I saw your name on the list, I knew she was serious about this. Well that and the third name on that list. 

And just like that, the match was set for ReVival 19. Wade Elliott. Dusk. One last time.

Wade Elliott: (Raising his glass once more.) Here’s t’ the ol’ dogs.

The pair clink once more before clearing their drinks, thumping them to the table. Wade produces a set of cards, tapping them from the sleeve before shuffling.

Wade Elliott: Didn’t you and ol’ bearded one over there ever have a match? Or were you just tag partners?

Dusk: Only tag partners.

Wade Elliott: He’s got a big match coming up in a lil’ bit.

Dusk: Yeah. [Looks over at Nova.] You want to join us at this table? Or just sit there in the corner?

The Risen Star sits up from his seat on the couch and joins them at the table. He grabs one of the empty glasses, pours a shot, then does the same for his colleagues.

Nova: (Raising his glass with a grin.) To the Way-Before Times.

Dusk raises his glass.

Dusk: To tonight. [beat] To this. 

With a clink of all three glasses, the three bury their drinks, and Nova returns to his couch.

Wade Elliott: Meantime, we got a little bit’ve time t’kill ‘fore the show gits goin’. You ever play Rummy?

Dusk shakes his head.

Dusk: Can’t say I have.

Wade Elliott: You’ll git the hang’ve it. And then we can ask Dam ‘bout his date.

Dametryus: A gentleman never tells, boss.

Dusk: Oh, I gotta hear this.

A laugh breaks out in the room (none from Dam) as we cut to another area of the backstage.