X-treme Wrestling Federation

What the commoners have to say about the king:

"Nobody could heal that quick from a 20 foot fall from the skybox onto the hard metal of the entrance ramp unless you're WOLVERINE!" - Peter Gilmour referring to John Madison's healing abilities.

The camera crew gives us a shot of The Black Circle's private green room where all of the members of The Black Circle are resting. The lounge is fitted with two leather couches that stretch across two of the walls, forming a ninety degree angle. On one couch is John Madison with his feet kicked up and his head leaned against the armrest. On the other couch is Luca Arzegotti and Shane . Luca is laying down on the couch as well, with his head on Shane's lap, and Shane holding the icepack on Luca's head. There is a beautiful potted plant in between the two couches that John Madison pissed all over a second ago. The room is dead silent before Shane realizes that the cameras are on.


"It's all wrong, my king," Shane says in a calm, somber voice as he stares down at the leaves of the plant as urine drips down the blades. His demeanor resembles that of a man who's just been informed that his grandmother passed away. "I cannot believe what happened tonight... We should go speak with the Administrator Network about this. They owe me a big favor and this would be the perfect time to use it. Peter Gilmour does not deserve that King title shot after what happened tonight. NO ONE from The Brotherhood deserves a shot. John, I could convince the Administrator Network right now to pull him from the match-"


"Paul Heyman was so full of shit tonight," interrupts John Madison as he sits up from his lounged position. John comes off as calm and confident. He seems to have taken a step back in order to evaluate the situation at hand like a true professional. Like a commander on an active battlefield trying to regroup so that he can draw up a new game plan. "But you're right, Shane, we should go talk to the Administrator Network about all of this."


Shane doesn't hesitate for a second longer. He digs into the inside of his jacket for his cell phone. Once he procures the cell phone from his pocket, he allows his thumbs to grace across the screen. Shane getting in touch with his people is like second nature for him at this point. However, just as Shane is about to fire off that important, game changing text message, John Madison intervenes by smothering the face of the phone with his hand.


"We'll talk to the Administrator Network after I win the king match on August 19."


Shane slowly puts his phone away as John Madison continues to speak.


"I don't back away from any challenge, Shane. Remember Gauntlet City? Remember how badly I was hurt by The Feders, Unknown Soldier, and Peter Gilmour? I took a beating that was worse than anyone in this company has ever felt, but I still got up and went back to work an hour later. How many people can say that they've gotten up and won a thirty man gauntlet match after they were attacked by a band of lunatics with staple guns, branding irons, and satanic fireballs? I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan or John Cena couldn't even overcome those odds, buddy. If anyone in this industry is an immortal; it's me! If anyone is the very definition of hustle, loyalty, and respect; it's me."


John Madison's passionate speech brings tears to Shane 's eyes as he reaches for a tissue. Shane isn't able to locate one, so John Madison uses his index finger to wipe the tear off of Shane 's cheek for him.


"It's okay, Shane, let it all out. Yes, I have taken a beating over the past couple of weeks. Physically and emotionally. Physically when I was assaulted and thrown out of a skybox. Emotionally, tonight, when I had to watch Luca being dragged around the ring by Peter Gilmour for no good reason. Watching Peter Gilmour handcuff my protégé to his motorcycle, and then dragging him wasn't easy for me to watch. The entire time, I wished it could have been me who was attached to the rear end of that bike. I would have taken that abuse for my Lucason because like Peter said, I am 'like Wolverine.' But it didn't happen that way, and now it's likely that Luca will never be the same. Look at what you did, Peter Gilmour. Cameraman, zoom in on Luca's face."


The cameraman does as he's told and gives the viewers a close-up shot of Luca Arzegotti's face. We see the bumps and bruises that now tarnish Luca's once clean, smooth face. There are fresh staples in his head, sealing up a gash that will eventually heal into a scar. He'll carry that scar with him for the rest of his life, but he'll still be the same Luca that we all know and love. Luca's eyes remain shut after being pumped full of meds in order to numb the pain. Meds which he probably washed down with some drinks from the open bar.


"You gave Luca quite a beating tonight, Peter. Was I impressed? Hmm, I think I would be more impressed if you could defeat Luca in an actual wrestling contest. You know, instead of handcuffing him to your bike... But I guess that me asking you to compete athletically is too much for you, isn't it Pete? Yes, of course-- you're not a real X-Tremists or a real wrestler for that matter. You know that you cannot wrestle better than Luca so you blindside him with these preposterous sneak attacks of yours. I know why you do this too, Peter. You did for the same reason that you compete in all those crazy matches that contain explosions and sharp objects. You participate in all of these foolish activities because without them, you would have nothing to ride on except your new Harley. You attacked Luca because if you hadn't, then where else would you have derived any momentum from? You had nothing to support why you should be in my King Match so you went out of your way to try and make things personal between us. I guess I can respect that.


We'll see how far that gets you, won't we?


Regardless of that, Luca didn't deserve what Peter dished out to him. In fact, I should have come alone tonight, wheelchair and all. I should have known it wouldn't be safe for you guys. I only hope that I can make it up to my Lucason with my performance in the King Match-- a match which I am dedicating to Luca. That is why, Shane , I want the match to continue as planned."


"Yes, my king," says Shane , sobbing now from listening to the king's speech. The camera view even jerks for a second as we can only assume that the cameraman was also wiping away his tears. With snot running down his face, Shane finally spits out the rest of his sentence. "You do what you need to do, my son! I love you!"


Both Shane and John Madison lean forward, towards each other in unison, and hug. Shane 's manly cries grow louder as John Madison gently pats him on the back.


"It's alright, dad. Peter Gilmour will pay for what he did. And so will Paul Heyman..."