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~~Brandon Moore~~ · (12-30-2016)

It’s the afternoon of December 31, 2016. Times Square has already been shut down and the XWF is ready to end the year with a bang. One superstar in particular is looking to be the one to accomplish that feat for the federation. The main event of Savage Saturday Night will determine who enters 2017 as the XWF Television Champion. The match will be under normal singles competition rules with a fifteen minute time limit. The time is set to expire as the ball drops, but the match may not even make it that far. There could be a draw as the new year rings in. Thomas Nixon could have already successfully defended his championship as the clock strikes midnight and January begins. There could be a new champion celebrating and kissing his belt at midnight, too. So many possibilities, but the last one sounds the most appealing.

The XWF has set up various tents and trailers to accommodate the staff and the superstars in Times Square. Brandon is in a tent that’s acting as a stand in locker room. He’s all by his lonesome. He is seated in a standard black folding chair with his bag of gear on the ground in front of him. The bag has already been halfway unzipped. Something stopped him from opening it all the way, but that is no longer the case. He finishing unzipping his bag and reaches both hands inside. Out from the depths of the bag, Brandon retrieves the XWF Federweight Championship. He gives it a long and endearing look before patting the belt on the centerpiece and letting out a disappointed sigh.

-Brandon Moore-
“My first XWF championship. You mean a lot to me, but sometimes, friends have to say goodbye. You’ll be out there for my match tonight, cheering me on, willing me to victory. I know that, but after I beat Thomas Nixon, we’ll have to go our separate ways. I’ll be the Television Champion at that point. The big wigs won’t let me have two singles belts, Feddy. I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’ll find a good home, though. Until then, let’s enjoy the time we have together, yeah? I love you, buddy.”

Brandon pats the belt on the centerpiece yet again and goes in to embrace the leather and gold. He doesn’t get to do that, though. Brandon’s possibly last special moment with his Federweight Championship has been interrupted by an XWF crew. A cameraman, a sound man, and Steve Sayors barge in through the tent entrance. They approach Brandon as he quickly puts the Federweight Championship back in his gear bag. Brandon hops to his feet, slightly irritated by the sudden emergence of Steve Sayors and company, but he’s keeping his cool. Remember?

-Brandon Moore-
“Well, this is a surprise. Mind knocking next time, though?”

-Steve Sayors-
“There isn’t really anything to knock on. We’re sorry.”

-Brandon Moore-
“Oh well. What can I help you fine gentlemen with?”

-Steve Sayors-
“We’ve been sent to get some words on your match, your opponent, Thomas Nixon, what the Television Championship means to you, you know, stuff like that.”

-Brandon Moore-
“Why not? Hit me with your best stuff, Steveman!”

Steve is a more than a little shocked at the pleasant demeanor of Brandon Moore. The last time they crossed paths, Brandon was crushing Steve’s larynx while dressed as Santa Clause and screaming at children. The meditation and the web articles on “Keeping Zen” seem to have really paid off. Steve stumbles over his thoughts. He was almost certain that Brandon would have dismissed the crew and sent them packing. Steve’s ready to jump at this opportunity and ask the hard hitting questions since being fearful for his safety is not an issue.

-Steve Sayors-
“Okay, let’s go outside and do it in front of the barricade. We’ll get a nice shot of New York City and Times Square behind you!”

-Brandon Moore-
“Sounds good to me!”

Brandon delivers a rare smile towards Steve as the group exits the tent into the chilly New York winter air. A short walk takes them to the outskirts of the area XWF has occupied. Fans and not fans see that the camera is about to start rolling and make sure they are seen and heard behind the action. Steve acknowledges that this area will work just fine. The cameraman sets up his equipment on his shoulder as the soundman holds the boom mic in position. Steve gives the signal, raises his microphone, and the camera starts to record the action. It is well before the start of the show, so who knows when and where this video may air.

-Steve Sayors-
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am here in Times Square with none other than the XWF Federweight Champion and challenger to the XWF Television Championship, Brandon Moore!

Steve turns and looks away from the camera to address Brandon. The video is only able to catch such a small portion of what’s happening in the vast hollows of Times Square.

-Steve Sayors-
“Let’s start with a simple question, Brandon. Are you as outmatched as everyone says? With your uncontrollable temper and being a relative newcomer here to XWF, there are many saying that Thomas Nixon will simply wipe the floor with you and move on. Comments?”

Brandon thinks for just a moment to respond to Steve’s inquiries. During that time, the rage inside him is building. It’s been locked down deep for days now and has been clawing to get out. It’s just who he is. He starts to remember how stupid Steve Sayors stupid face is. He answers the question with great poise, however.

-Brandon Moore-
“Thomas Nixon is a hell of a competitor. He’s held onto that Television Championship for weeks. But am I outmatched? No chance, bub. I’ve been putting the work in. I’m cool, I’m calm, and I’ve come to wrestle. By the time that fifteen minutes is over and 2017 has begun, I’ll have that gold held high above my head for all of New York City to see.”

After the response, Brandon feels as though he has two devils on his shoulders directing traffic. Normally, there would be a devil and an angel, but it looks like another devil showed up, kicked the angel’s ass, and took his place. He will do his best to remain calm throughout the interview, but the guy is a ticking time bomb.

-Steve Sayors-
“Confidence is key it seems. It also seems as though the rumor of you working on your anger is, in fact, true. Any comments on why you’re such a pussy?”

Brandon’s mind is playing tricks on him now. He’s hearing things, because his soul needs him to get anger. It needs him to unleash the rage that he’s holding captive before it causes his head to nuke the Big Apple. His tone is a bit harsher than it was before now. Steve is a little startled by it.

-Brandon Moore-
“What did you say?”

-Steve Sayors-
“I, uh, asked if you had any comments on how being able to control and channel your anger might help you be victorious tonight?”

-Brandon Moore-
“Oh, um. It’s simple. I’ve done some meditation. I’ve read up on the art of keeping cool, you know? Thomas Nixon thinks he’ll show up, beat me, and move on with his life. That’s not going to happen. I’ve heard what he’s had to say. I’ll give him the wrestling match he wants, but in the end, it’s not about putting on a show for the fans. It’s about who’s hungrier. It’s about who has the intestinal fortitude to drop his opponent for a count of three or force him to tap. It’s about who wants to represent the X-treme Wrestling Federation as its Television Champion.”

-Steve Sayors-
“You’re handling yourself quite well, Brandon. I’m actually very surprised. Now, man up and fucking hit somebody, you little bitch.”

Brandon is trying to hold it together, but again, his mind makes him hear something other than the words that Steve Sayors is truly speaking. Brandon has a mean look on his face now, giving a bit of a scare to Steve.

-Brandon Moore-
“What’s your deal, man?!”

-Steve Sayors-
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about? I just said…get fucking angry,

!”

That’s game over. The jig is up. Brandon is seeing red. The anger has taken control. Steve looks as though he just shit himself. The crowd doesn’t know what to make of this and the rest of the XWF crew can do nothing except watch. His inner rage has forced itself to the surface. His mind made him hear insults from Steve and now Brandon is ready to retaliate. He snatches Steve by the collar and pulls him forward.

-Brandon Moore-
“You just had to push me, huh, Sayors?! I tried! I really fucking tried! But your scrawny ass has set me off!”

Brandon now places his other hand on Sayors collar and flings him into the steel barricade holding back the fans. The force is so hard that the barricade’s movement even causes some of the gathering crowd to take a tumble. The soundman and the cameraman look on, stunned at what is happening, with their mouths agape. Brandon turns his attention towards them now.

-Brandon Moore-
“What the fuck are you looking at?!”

The soundman drops the boom mic and tries to take off. The cameraman has no choice but to continue filming the action taking place. Apparently his job isn’t as important as his life. The soundman’s resistance is futile. Brandon gets a hold of his shirt and drags him back over to where they were standing. Brandon grabs the boom mic and snaps the handle over the man’s back. The crowd lets out a collective groan as they wince at the unfolding scene. The cameraman should have saved himself. Brandon gets to him and the camera drops to the concrete. Brandon grabs the cameraman by both sides of his head and throws a vicious headbutt. The cameraman crumples as a small cut sends blood trickling down Brandon’s face from his forehead. With the camera still recording, Brandon lifts it and notices a teenager in the crowd bundled up similar to Kenny from South Park. He plops the camera on the kid’s shoulder.

-Brandon Moore-
“Hold this. Don’t fuck it up.”

The teenager covered in orange is too frightened to disagree. He holds the camera steady towards Brandon, blood still streaming slowly down from his forehead to his chin. Some has gotten in his mouth and on his teeth now, giving quite the image to behold. Brandon now addresses everyone who has gathered to witness what was supposed to be a straight forward interview.

-Brandon Moore-
“Thomas Nixon thinks he can get in my head?! Think again, motherfucker! They say don’t fix what’s not broken. Well, I’m not broken! I can wrestle. I can fight. I can do it all! Whether there are rope breaks or not. Whether I can bash you with a kendo stick or not. I’m coming at you tonight with everything I have! I spent so much time this week trying to ‘stay calm.’ It’s bullshit!

Brandon gets his face right up in the camera now, bloody smile and all.

-Brandon Moore-
“Cage and Stone…Havoc. They aren’t my only allies, Tommy Boy. My anger is my ally and together, we’re going to take your Television Championship. Together, we’re going to put you the fuck down. New year. Same me.”

Brandon now gestures both middles fingers to the camera with a sadistic smile on his face. He takes back the camera and shoves the teenager into those gathered behind him. Brandon doesn’t hesitate to smash the camera on the cement and take his leave. Brandon mutters to himself before heading back to the tent he was in, giving Sayors one last kick in the gut before he goes.

-Brandon Moore-
“Let Nixon see that shit.”

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