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Peter Vaughn · (11-08-2021)

~The picture slowly comes into focus on the beautiful blue sky. The camera, clearly a drone of some sort, shows a view above the clouds, a rather spectacular sight that you normally only see from the window seat of a commercial airplane. The drone rotates around, showing the sky in all directions, before beginning its descent. As it does so, we start to hear Peter Vaughn's voice.~

Peter Vaughn: Just one year ago, everything was different. I was working at backyard independent shows, while failing to find any success further up the food chain. I struggled to get any victories, and at the time, I didn't care. I was just a goofy Janitor, a low-carder, content with just getting the chance to wrestle. And then... I met Jonathan Barrows.

~The drone passes into the clouds, leaving the sunlight behind and taking us into darkness.~

Peter Vaughn: Jonathan put me through some of the worst agony I've ever known. I still don't remember most of it, or exactly what his main reasons were for doing so. But sometimes the ends do justify the means. I suddenly found the urge to succeed, the fire to make my way up the ladder. I found myself no longer wanting to waste time like I had been. I wanted more. I deserved... more.

~Glimpses of light begin to be seen, as the drone makes it way through to the other side of the clouds. The visibility increases, even if it's not much lighter below the storm clouds. The drone points downwards, showing the ground underneath, which begins to come closer.~

Peter Vaughn: Last month, my dream was finally realized. I vacated my Craze Championship to get a shot at the World Champion, and I made the most of it. My opponent showed his utter terror of me, attacking me from behind before the match even began. He thought this would keep me down. But I am no longer a quitter. I'm no longer someone who goes down without the fight of your life. I fought back with everything I had, and at the end of the night, I held that championship strap. I did it. I reached the top of the mountain.

And then that mountain? It crumbled.

~The ground underneath is cracked and dry, but there are still plenty of trees and plants that find a way to thrive in the drought currently affecting Texas. It's amazing how life always finds a way to keep surviving. The drone moves along, picking up speed as it heads towards its destination.~

Peter Vaughn: I watched as my dream match with James Raven was taken from me. I sat there, stunned, as worthy contenders like Bam Miller, Kat Jones, Jason Cashe, Cyrus Riddle, Victoria Strader-Knox, and Matt Knox were sent packing with no sound reasoning behind it. I listened as those remaining in charge declared that the company would now be a private federation, with little interest in spreading its exploits to the world. And I realized, if I stayed... that was the end of my dream.

~There appears to be a small, unpaved road along the path the drone is following. It's hard to tell the exact size, but the business car currently driving on it takes up most of the road. We get in closer as the car winds around a turn.~

Peter Vaughn: I knew leaving the organization was a gamble. Anything could happen when signing with a new company. But after defeating a Queenslayer, a Spartan King, and a Child of Fate on a historic cruise for charity, I decided that the risk was worth it. I signed on the dotted line with Theo Pryce, and now I enter the XWF, a former rival. Now it's the place to salvage my dreams of being one of the greatest of all time. And I will do anything for those dreams. Anything.

~Underneath the drone, the car comes to a shaky stop in front of a dilapidated, ancient ranch house. We see another truck is already parked there. The car's door opens, and the drone swings down, seemingly transitioning into a standing view (in a clever special effect) to show Jonathan Barrows, a former wrestler and current businessman, stepping out of the driver's seat and looking around in amazement.~

~After a few moments, Barrows shakes his head and shuts his door, before calling out.~

Jonathan Barrows: Hey, Peter! PETER!!

~After a few seconds, an answering yell can be heard, sounding like it's around the house. Barrows heads that direction, careful where he steps. After all, a place this abandoned could easily have picked up a few rattlesnake dens. Barrows makes it around in one piece, seeing another large structure behind the house. It looks to be a large storage area, built to house a tractor or two. Peter Vaughn is standing nearby, working on what appears to be a rusted-over pump well. The man looks unusually happy at the moment, not exactly his standard look nowadays. He's using an old screwdriver to knock away some of the rust, trying to get the pump moving.~

Peter Vaughn: Glad you could make it out here, Jonathan. What do you think?

Jonathan Barrows: What do I think? I think this place would be a great location for a redneck horror movie, that's what I think!

Peter Vaughn: Hmmm, potential extra income. Yeah, I like the idea, I'll have to ask around.

Jonathan Barrows: Seriously, Peter, what are we doing out here? What is this place?

~Vaughn puts the screwdriver in one specific spot and quickly pops a hammer out from his belt. He smacks it gently a couple of times, knowing the right amount of force to apply to any given problem. He then readjusts the pump and pushes down on it. Miraculously, it moves with a loud creak, although no water comes out yet. Vaughn turns back to Barrows, smiling.~

Peter Vaughn: This place? Oh, this place is going to be home. Eventually.

~Vaughn walks towards the house, wiping some sweat off his brow in spite of the cool temperatures. Barrows, knocked speechless for a moment, finally gives chase, joining Vaughn as he goes around the building.~

Jonathan Barrows: What are you talking about? Do you mean... you BOUGHT this place??

Peter Vaughn: I had to do something with that bonus I was given as the World Champion, and I've always wanted to own some land. Sure, I'm no farmer or rancher, but I've always been good with my hands.

~Vaughn stops in front of his Ford truck, making sure he's got a notepad in his pocket. He turns back to a still shell-shocked Barrows.

Peter Vaughn: Get in. We can talk on the way to get some more supplies.

Jonathan Barrows: But I... I.... okay...

~Barrows makes his way to the other side, still trying to wrap his head around Vaughn now being a land-owner in Texas. The truck pulls away, heading down the same broken road that Barrows just barely managed to navigate on the way here. Vaughn looks comfortable, enjoying the cooler weather as they drive along, while Barrows is still wrapping his head around Vaughn spending so much money.~

Jonathan Barrows: Can I ask... how much it all cost? Not to be indelicate, but... you DID just lose your job.

Peter Vaughn: I didn't lose it. I chose to give it up. And I quickly got picked up by multiple organizations who appreciated my talents.

Jonathan Barrows: Whatever.

Peter Vaughn: And let's just say I got it at a steal. Bank had foreclosed on it years ago, and they had never found a buyer. I guess they were desperate to get rid of it. I heard a rumor it's haunted, but hell, all old places have some ghosts hanging about.

~Barrows looks over his shoulder at the property, but they've already driven too far away to be able to see it, even here in the flat lands of Texas.~

Jonathan Barrows: I'm just worried about your finances, Peter. You've never had that much, so you need to be careful in how you use your funds. Quite honestly, you never know when it's all going to end.

Peter Vaughn: Are you kidding? I've got decades ahead of me in the wrestling business. And once I reach the top of the XWF, I'll be able to demand any price I want for the foreseeable future.

Jonathan Barrows: That... could be trickier than you think. I'm afraid... some people in the XWF may still hold a grudge for your recent actions as a member of that... other roster. You see, they announced your first opponent last night at Wednesday Night Warfare.

Peter Vaughn: Let me guess, they're putting me against one of my former allies? Bam Miller? He'd be a hell of a fight. Or maybe Jason Cashe. CaTara Forever, but I'd still have to take him down to keep moving up.

Jonathan Barrows: No, no, it's not any of them...

Peter Vaughn: So it's one of their stars? Is it Bobby Bourbon or Thunder Knuckles? Or... are they throwing me right at Jim Caedus or Alias? If you're worried about them, contain yourself. I'm not backing down from anyone.

Jonathan Barrows: It's not... it's not a wrestler.

Peter Vaughn: What? What are you talking about, Jonathan?

Jonathan Barrows: They're, ah.... they're booking you against a gorilla.

~The truck comes to a rapid stop, sand flying in the air from the tires skidding forward. The quiet settles in ominously, as the dust continues to settle around the vehicle.~

~It's unknown how much the people in charge of the XWF know about Peter Vaughn's history. You have to assume they know a lot, researching to find every dirty secret hidden in Vaughn's past. Of course, Vaughn's time with Mike Zybala really isn't that hidden. Vaughn thinks about Zybala now, remembering the battles on Exile Island. The fights with the orangutan army and their leader, a massive orangutan who led to a massive three-way fracas. It was a silly, ridiculous part of Vaughn's life. His time under Zybala's tutelage is an embarrassment, a part that he's rather tried to forget in recent months. A part that he's now forced to remember again.~

Peter Vaughn: A gorilla.

Jonathan Barrows: Yes.

Peter Vaughn: A literal gorilla.

Jonathan Barrows: Yep.

Peter Vaughn: And what, they want me to beat it unconscious? Or kill it?

Jonathan Barrows: Well, apparently it's a tranquilizer challenge, so the first to shoot the other with a tranquilizer wins.

~Vaughn sits silently for a few more seconds, thinking things through. He then slams the door open and gets out of the truck, walking away. Barrows, too nervous to go after him, winces as Vaughn lets out a massive yell towards the sky, followed by a string of curse words showing Vaughn's education in the wrestling business.~

Peter Vaughn: Fuckers! BASTARDS!!! HOW CAN THEY.... AAARRRRGGGGHHH!!!!!

~Vaughn rages outside the truck for a another minute, with Barrows showing zero interest in leaving the safety of the vehicle in order to talk to him. Once Vaughn finally stops screaming vulgarities into the air, though, and seems to have regained a modicum of control, Barrows finally gets out and cautiously approaches him.~

Jonathan Barrows: Look... it's not going to be that bad, Peter. Maybe there's a bit of punishment involved for your attack on one of their top champions, but you know how this goes. Get past this, and I'm sure they'll honor your contract demands and work to get you further up the card.

~Vaughn doesn't respond. He's still down on the ground. It looks like the unstable wrestler may have busted open his knuckles punching at the earth. It's not exactly a new experience for him.~

Jonathan Barrows: Hell, it should be a piece of cake. I can't see a gorilla being able to even fire a tranquilizer, much less know how to aim it. You walk up, you plug him, and you walk away. Easy.

~Barrows pantomimes firing a dart, even throwing in a weak chuckle. Vaughn slowly gets up and moves to the back of the truck. He starts searching through the back of it.~

Jonathan Barrows: I mean, when you think about it, it could be the easiest win of your career! Something to celebrate, right?

~Vaughn finds what he's looking for, having stored it in one of the duffel bags in the back. He pulls it out slowly, reverently, bringing the shotgun around and popping it open. Barrows immediately takes a step back as Vaughn pulls out a box of ammunition and sets it to the side.~

Jonathan Barrows: As... as I said, it's a tranquilizer match, so...

Peter Vaughn: I guarantee, once I hit that ape with this... he'll be very tranquil.

Jonathan Barrows: No! Peter... you can't bring that weapon with you to the arena. Do you want PETA on our case?

Peter Vaughn: You think they won't be involved already? It's a match with a gorilla...

Jonathan Barrows: A gorilla that knows sign language, apparently, so you really, REALLY can't just go and shoot him.

~Vaughn thinks about this for a moment.~

Peter Vaughn: How am I supposed to trash talk a gorilla? Flip him the bird twenty times? Tell him to "Suck It"? What a fucking mess. I thought I left this backyard bullshit behind me, Jonathan, I really did.

Jonathan Barrows: Look, let's just put the gun away and concentrate on some planning for Warfare. We'll come up with something.

Peter Vaughn: I've already come up with something. Let's head to the local shooting range. I need to practice my aim.

~Barrows stampers as Vaughn turns and walks back to the truck, putting the firearm in behind him, ready for use. Barrows shakes his head, knowing that he's going to have to do everything in his power to make sure Vaughn doesn't become a 'rilla killa' in his first XWF match. He hurries around to get in before he gets left behind. With another cloud of dust, the truck takes over, continuing on its way to town.~

You know, when I made the decision to come to the XWF, I knew I'd be starting over. Sure, I've got a reputation now, much better than the rep I had last year, but that doesn't mean that most of the XWF would respect it. They'd want to see me themselves, make sure I deserve everything that's coming my way. And damn, I really want to show them all that none of it's been a fluke. I want to take on the best of the best and pin their shoulders to the mat. I thought I'd be facing Alias. Centurion. Caedus. But I never anticipated fighting a fucking gorilla.

Am I a joke to all of you? Did you not watch as I crushed men like Mike Zybala or Dylan Thomas? Did you miss me dethroning an Outcast and sending his decrepit ass out the door? Were any of you paying attention at the Tara Fenix Charity Cruise when I defeated three of the top wrestlers in the game, pinning "The Queenslayer" Legion to get the victory for the Disabled American Veterans? Have I not EARNED some respect? Is it because of the company I came from, the company that did so much damage that I had no choice but to jump the fence? Is it because I'm from Texas, and they've made some questionable political moves lately? Is it because of my history with fighting orangutans? Because I have fucking put that behind me! Far behind me!

I guess, in the end, it doesn't really matter. Whatever the reason for the decision, I'm booked against Gilligan. And I know I'll be judged for every injury I give this animal. I break a chair across his face, breaking his nose? I'll be the villain. I send the gorilla screaming into the crowd, looking for any source of protection, maybe biting several fans in the process? It'll be my fault. I fracture the bones in his hands, ensuring that he'll never sign "Please feed me" again to his owners? I'll be hated more than the zoo worker who shot Harambe.

But here's the thing. If you think I won't do any of that, just because of how the fans will react, you don't know me at all. The end goal is still the same. Everlasting fame. Making that mark in the history books that can never be forgotten. Being one of the greatest of all time. I can't let it all get derailed at the very beginning of my journey in the XWF, due to facing Professor Bobo in a tranq match. I can't let the fans get that initial impression of my as a clown or goofball. That's not me anymore. It'll never be me again. I may enjoy life, but I will never be a jobber again.

Even if that means killing an ape on live television. I won't be a jobber then. I'll be remembered. You'd best hope I show up on the night and decide just to use the tranquilizer. Because, otherwise... I can't guarantee anything.

I'm a champion. My destiny is to reach the top once again. You're not going to get in my way, Bingo. Prepare to take the Plunge.

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