A Trip Down Memory Lane... - Printable Version

~As the light slowly gets bearable, we see Peter Vaughn standing there, looking around an empty void. He's dressed in a nice suit, tailored to make him look good. He checks the left side, apparently making sure there's not a bullet hole there. Satisfied, he glances around the place, wondering what he's supposed to do now.~

Peter Vaughn: So... am I supposed to picture a train station or something? A way to move on, or go back? Anyone? *sigh*

~Vaughn begins walking forward, taking several steps before he realizes he's hearing nothing. No echoes of his steps, no contact, zero sound. He looks down.~

Peter Vaughn: Is there even actually a floor here? Wait, I don't want to know. That never ends well for the Coyote.

~The journey continues, if you can call it that. There is no change to the scenery. There's no sign that Vaughn is making any progress. For as much as anyone can tell, Vaughn is simply walking in air, completely stationary. Not one to give up, though, Vaughn presses on, beginning to jog forward. When nothing seems to reflect his increased speed, Vaughn angrily begins running. He's in a full-out sprint, showing some incredible speed for a man who used to be known for mopping floors. At least, it seems like he'd be going pretty fast anywhere else. Here, it's just impossible to tell. After another minute of heavy running, Vaughn slows down, coming to a stop. He's breathing hard, having exerted himself on... something, even if he's not sure what. He looks around again, frustrated.~

Peter Vaughn: There's got to be something here, right? No matter what's going on, be it that I'm on life support... I'm in heaven... I'm in... hell... well, that'd be an inventive hell, that's for sure. Fated to wander emptiness forever...

~Vaughn thinks about that for a few seconds, not liking the idea. He turns and yells out.~

Peter Vaughn: Whoever's out there?! What do I do?? GIVE ME A SIGN!!!

~Vaughn does a complete 360, looking for any change. He stops spinning when he realizes that there is now a traffic sign next to him, pointing off to the right. It says "Dallas, 5 Miles". Vaughn scratches his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh. Maybe I AM in a Warner Brothers cartoon. Hey, out there!! CAN YOU DRAW ME SOMETHING TO DRINK??

~He looks around, expecting a bar or a mug or, hell, a lake of beer to show up. Nothing does. He shrugs.~

Peter Vaughn: Well... it was worth a shot. Guess it's time to follow directions, huh? It's not like I have much else I can do...

~Vaughn starts jogging in the direction the traffic sign pointed. Behind him, the sign disintegrates, as if it was never there to begin with. Even for someone in Vaughn's shape, five miles isn't a quick process. The average person can jog 5 miles in a little under an hour, if they don't have a heart attack first. For Vaughn, hopefully he can shave down that time. He runs off into the distance, his destination locked in.~

Sometimes you have to just travel on the paths that were set for you.

I started out in this business when my old boss, The Accelerator, pointed at me randomly to step in and replace a fired chump who was thrown from the building. I loved wrestling as a kid, but I never saw myself becoming an active competitor. Ace chose me that day, and my first path was set. The second branch of the path began with Ace's son, Jonathan Barrows. His... teachings... were not what I ever expected. I never would have agreed to them in my old state, to be honest. But I'm glad he decided to push through without my consent. He's a major reason why I am one of the hottest wrestlers in the business today.

I wonder, what choices were made for Ails that got him to where he is now? I know there was some stuff with the Left Hand, which is why his hand got so fried. I know it was chosen for him to lose the Universal Title due to a briefcase. I guess I get some credit for that one, although most of the blame still falls on Caedus. He was a true scumbag, you know? But I'll accept my share of the responsibility. Honestly, it's pretty cool.

I helped make Ails what he is today.

I'm sure he'll deny that. He'll say that he hasn't changed since that day his championship was taken away from him. But the man's been on a historic run since his return, just like I have been. Did he sit back and watch as I took down Centurion, arguably one of the most famous, well-respected wrestlers in the world today? Did he catch videos of me destroying Supreme Machine? Dickie Watson? El Diablo Blanco? "The War Queen" Leah? I mean, I know Ails has been on a roll, but it's not like I'm only hitting snake-eyes myself, you know?

Suffice to say, Ails and I have some things in common. We've both taken the pain and loss in our lives and turned them into successful runs. We've both been to the top of the ladder, and both of us want to stay there, no matter what. We both are sensational wrestlers. Yeah, I'll give him that. The guy's fun to watch. Just like me. The only real difference I see is that Ails has been TOO successful lately. I think it's going to make him soft, or at least lead him to see Peter Vaughn in a lesser light than Flynn, Nickels, and the rest.

And that's what's going to lead to me changing Ails' life again: when I defeat him, retain my title, and walk out of March Madness the truly-crowned King of the XWF, Ails' life will be changed forever. Believe it.

~We return to the light-strewn void, where Vaughn is still jogging forward. It's hard to get a sense of time or distance traveled, so Vaughn can't know how much closer he's getting. Every so often, though, another sign appears, usually at the mile markers, letting him know he's still on the right track. It's hard to jog in a specific direction for a long distance with no landmarks and be sure you're going the right way, after all. Finally, as Vaughn's run continues, we can see 'something' in the distance. It's blurry, it's unclear, but it's an actual break in the monotony of the run, so Vaughn immediately speeds up in that direction. He gets closer and closer, with the building coming more into view. After a few more steps, Vaughn comes to a stop, staring forward.~

Peter Vaughn: You've got to be kidding me.

~After a few more moments of staring, Vaughn starts moving again, getting up to the doorway of the old apartment building. It stands alone, in the middle of the void. Vaughn shoves the door open and goes inside. He looks around the abandoned lobby, where there's no sign of life.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Just like I remembered it.

~Vaughn heads towards the elevator but sees the "Out Of Order" sign on it.~

Peter Vaughn: Yep... that too. Damn thing was always out of order. Owner was such a cheapskate.

~He heads for the stairs instead, making his way upwards. Despite the long jog earlier, Vaughn seems to be handling the stairs with ease. He gets to the third floor, walking down the hallway. He stops in front of one of the doorways, taking a deep breath.~

Peter Vaughn: I wonder... is he going to be in there? Is this how we meet again?

~Vaughn steadies himself and grabs the doorknob. He twists it... and it's locked.~

Peter Vaughn: Well... that sucks.

~Out of habit, Vaughn checks his pockets... and pulls out a set of keys from his right one. He looks through them, trying to remember what all the keys went to. It's been a long time since he's seen this particular keychain. But one key still stands out, the one he used the most. He unlocks the door in front of him, opening the door wide and stepping through.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Dad? Are you here?

~There's no response. Vaughn walks further in, studying the pictures hanging on the walls and the various, scrounged pieces of furniture around. It's a view that doesn't exist anymore, as the apartment was long lost when Vaughn's father was felled by a stroke, putting him in a nursing home for the last years of his life. Vaughn steps into the small living room, seeing the ancient television stacked up in the corner. He grins, remembering the many shows he watched right here. Behind him, in the kitchen, there's the noise of a cabinet being closed. Vaughn turns quickly, then hurries over to the doorway, peeking his head through.~

Peter Vaughn: Dad?

~The figure in the kitchen slowly turns towards him, smiling his own enigmatic grin.~

Peter Vaughn(?): Not exactly.

~Vaughn’s mouth opens wide, unable to contain his shock as he stares at… himself. This Peter is wearing his old-school janitorial outfit, complete with name-tag on the right upper pocket. He steps forward, setting up the table. There are already two bowls sitting there, along with a container of milk. He sets a box of Fruit Loops next to it and gestures to the empty chair in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn(?): Sit down, Peter. We’ve got a lot to talk about.

~Vaughn, looking shell shocked, quietly pulls the chair out and takes a seat, as his doppelganger begins to pour in the cereal first in the bowls, the way it’s meant to be done.~

It's like looking into a mirror. Ails and I, I mean.

I've been taking copious notes of all of Ail's recent fights. They've been pretty impressive. I mean, taking down so many different types of wrestlers, you have to respect that. Even if some of them were just by mere luck and mistakes by your opposition. Even Ails has to admit that if his adversaries were a little more intelligent, they wouldn't have fallen into his traps. Like me. I won't be doing that.

I've taken note of all your favorite attacks, Ails, and I've got counters for all of them. Of course, this match is anything but ordinary, but a good chair shot to the head is also an available counter, so I'll have back-ups as well. I've also been running some of my own tests. You may have noticed when I checked to see how well you handled electricity. By the way, much applause for that, you certainly recovered faster than I would have expected. It helped narrow down my attack patterns towards you at the PPV.

All-in-all, I feel pretty confident that I've found your true weakness, Ails. It's one that you might not even realize is there. Oh, you want to know what it is? So you can block it off and prevent me from using it at the show? Yeah, that wouldn't be very smart of me, would I? As I said, I'm not like some of your other opponents. I can think for myself, AND I'll have Page out there giving his advice as well. So no, you won't find out my targeted weakness until I've taken you down with it.

That's called planning, son. It's called strategy. And strategy is the key to victory, am I right?

~The two Vaughns sit across from each other. Their outfits are the only thing that really distinguishes them from each other. That, and that the one Vaughn is munching away at the cereal, while the other Vaughn is just staring. Since this is going to get confusing real fast, let's use some other descriptors. We have The Janitor, the original version, and The Mechanic, the current version. Right now, The Mechanic is letting his fruit loops get soggy in milk, as he waits impatiently for The Janitor to tell him what's going on. But The Janitor seems more interested in finishing his meal. He even picks up the bowl afterwards and drinks the cereal milk, like all of us have done at one point or another.~

The Mechanic: Taste good? Finished?

~The Janitor starts to reach for the Fruit Loops box again, but The Mechanic knocks it aside, sending the round rings flying everywhere onto the kitchen floor. The Janitor looks at it, shaking his head at the mess, and starts to get up to get the broom and dustpan.~

The Mechanic: LEAVE IT!! Tell me what's going on, damn it!!

~The Mechanic is seething, but The Janitor doesn't seem to care. He goes and gets what he wanted, coming back and sweeping up the fallen remains.~

The Janitor: You know, we would never just leave a mess there before. We believed in being tidy, didn't we?

The Mechanic: Maybe... once upon a time. But not now. Now, I just want answers! Where am I? Who are you? And what's going on?

~The Janitor gets rid of the trash, coming back over to the table. He looks at the bowl in front of his twin.~

The Janitor: You sure you're not going to eat that? Seems wasteful.

~In response, The Mechanic lifts up the bowl and starts to drop it off the table. The Janitor, though, swiftly catches it, avoiding a milk catastrophe. He goes and pours it out instead, then sets the two bowls near the sink for washing later. By this point, The Mechanic is fuming, ready to explode at any moment. He starts to get up.~

The Janitor: To answer your questions... One, you're in Purgatory at the moment. Two, I'm you, or at least a part of you. Three, what's going on is up to you.

~The Janitor sits back down, smiling at his clone, or twin, or whatever the hell he is. The Mechanic doesn't look amused.~

The Mechanic: So... I was shot. Does that mean... I'm dead?

The Janitor: Death... is a complicated question. But if you want the simple answer, no, I don't think we're dead. I'm just not sure we're still alive, either.

The Mechanic: What kind of answer is that?

The Janitor: The kind of answer you get in a place like this.

~The Janitor tilts back in his chair, studying The Mechanic for a moment before getting up and walking over to the counter.~

The Janitor: The way I see it, Peter, you've lost your way. And I've been called here to help you find your correct path. You know you've done things that won't exactly be looked on fondly in the future. Moments that you should want to take back.

~The Mechanic shakes his head, disagreeing, as The Janitor starts to fiddle with the old-fashioned radio sitting there next to the refrigerator.~

The Mechanic: What? What moments are those? I can't think of anything I'm ashamed of in the last year that I would want to change. I became a four-time World Champion, and I don't regret any of the steps I took to... get... there...

~The music playing out of the radio is not what you would expect. It's the tune for "Five Little Ducks", a nursery rhyme. The color begins to drain from The Mechanic's face as he listens to it.~

“Five little ducks went shopping one day… Saw fun things and walked away… Mother duck said “Quack, quack, quack, quack”... but only four little ducks came back…”

The Mechanic: I... I don't... why are you playing this? What's... happening...

~Suddenly, there's a bright light that seems to cover everything. The Mechanic can be seen, covering his eyes, while it doesn't seem to affect The Janitor. After a second, the light goes away... and the two Vaughns find themselves on top of a platform, high above a television studio below. We see a third Peter Vaughn, this one appearing to be in much worse shape, at least condition-wise. He's rocking a young child on his knee, singing to her the nursery rhyme, as screams can be heard from below.~

“Four little ducks went shopping one day… Saw fun things and walked away… Mother duck said “Quack, quack, quack, quack”… but only three little ducks came back…”

The Mechanic: Oh... oh no... I, I don't want to be back here...

The Janitor: Some would say this was your darkest moment, Peter. The moment you put an innocent child in danger, just because of a loss of property to Dylan Thomas. You nearly killed this girl, didn't you?

~The Mechanic starts shaking his head, as the third Vaughn, the most insane, continues to sing, ignoring everything around him.~

“Three little ducks went shopping one day… Saw fun things and walked away… Mother duck said “Quack, quack, quack, quack”… but only two little ducks came back…”

~We see Dylan Thomas and his wife, Lissandra, making their way up a ladder nearby. They walk past the two Vaughns as if they weren't even there, which they really might not be. It's hard to tell. They're pleading for their child back, even as the insane Vaughn moves closer to the edge of the platform.~

The Mechanic: This is... I wasn't well, man. You know that! This... wasn't me...

The Janitor: Is that because you wouldn't risk harm to a child nowadays? Or because you know there's no benefit in it for you now?

~The Mechanic has no answer, looking more and more stressed out at the sight before him.~

“Two little ducks went shopping one day… Saw fun things and walked away… Mother duck said “Quack, quack, quack, quack”... but only one little duck came back…”

The Mechanic: Just... just stop this. If you're me, and you can do it, just stop this, alright? I don't need to relive this.

The Janitor: No, no, I do think it's something you need to remember. You have to see what your decisions have caused. This little girl was forever changed that night.

The Mechanic: But I didn't... I didn't drop her!

The Janitor: No... but you were willing to, weren't you? If it meant taking Dylan Thomas to that extra limit?

~They turn and watch as Vaughn inches closer to the edge, with Dylan begging to have his child back in his arms.~

"One little duck went shopping one day…"

The Mechanic: No...

"Saw fun things and walked away…"

The Mechanic: Stop it...

"Mother duck said, “Quack Quack Quack QUACK…"

The Mechanic: STOP IT!!!

"But none of the five little ducks… came back…”

~The insane Vaughn steps off the platform, taking the daughter with him. Only Thomas' quick reflexes stopped them, as he managed to grab Vaughn before he crashed to the ground. With them hanging there, Vaughn surprisingly smiles, handing up the terrified little Lilly to her mother... before then pulling Thomas off the top, sending them both crashing through a desk below. Neither are moving as medical personnel run in, frantically trying to help the two men. But The Mechanic isn't watching any of that. He's focused on Lissandra cradling Lilly, holding her tightly. You can see him fighting off something, perhaps even a bit of emotion, something that's supposed to be unavailable to the man.~

The Janitor: Well, I suppose that's enough of that. Let's move on, shall we?

~The Janitor snaps his fingers, and there's another bright flash of light.~

Do you have anything in your past that haunts you, Ails?

I suppose I've had a few regrets, now that I'm thinking back on it. I know you have some moments, like when your hand was burned by the Left Hand. I know, I'm a little obsessed with your interactions with them, and how you overcame the numbers against you to come out triumphant. I wonder if you were preparing to do the same with myself and The Exiles. Well, you don't really have to worry about that. After the destruction of Apex, the goals of the Exiles were met, and for now, at least, everyone's about gone their separate directions. Bam retired, Betsy's "regenerating", and Xavier's doing... well, whatever the hell Xavier wants to do, I suppose. The Exiles are pretty much not a threat anymore, and I'm okay with that. They're all living their lives, you know?

As for me? I've still got Page in my corner, an invaluable asset, but I'm not going to be relying on a numbers advantage in our contest. You know why? Because I don't feel like I need to. I have a multitude of faith in my own ability to send you out of my path for a long, long time. My Plan A in our Ascent To Madness match is to beat you solely on my own, with minimal interaction from Page and others, to prove to the world how awesome I am.

But that being said, I did have the ability to choose the battle we would be involved in... and I feel I would be remiss in not thinking about how the rules don't state anything about outside interference, do they? I mean, anyone could come down and take advantage of the situation. There could be twenty guys waiting for us up on that third cage, and there would be nothing that the XWF could do about it, could they? Hopefully they've reinforced the top of the cage.

Now, it's not something I'm planning on facing, but you should probably prepare for the worst, shouldn't you, Ails? Hell, maybe The Left Hand will reappear and be there waiting for you.

Yeah, nah, that's not happening, they're pretty fucking dead, and good riddance to them.

But as I said, if you want to be a winner in this business, you have to be prepared for everything and ready for trials and tribulations at a moment's notice. You have to be ready for things to be unpredictable, and then just be happy if it turns out the way you were originally expecting.

So are you ready, Ails? Are you prepared for everything that could be coming your way? I hope so. I really, really hope so. Because otherwise, it might be a much shorter night than I'm hoping for. One way or another.

~The light clears, and The Mechanic finds himself on his own, getting to his feet. He looks around the back alley, not immediately recognizing it. He turns around, realizing that his 'guide' isn't there anymore.~

The Mechanic: So I guess I'm on my own now? What the fu-

The Janitor: Is that what you want? To be left alone always?

~The Mechanic jumps, turning to find The Janitor standing there. The Mechanic doesn't look very amused.~

The Mechanic: I don't remember myself being such a prick.

The Janitor: Well, let's just say some things have changed as I've watched what you've become. For instance, what happens on this night.

The Mechanic: Yeah, where the heck are we? I don't remember this at...

~Suddenly, there's the sound of screaming coming from the building they're standing next to. The Janitor looks over, having expected it. The Mechanic's eyes widen, as he suddenly realizes where he must be. He immediately turns and runs for the doorway, shoving it open and heading inside. The Janitor follows right behind him. We rejoin them inside a tattered hallway, showing that this building is abandoned. A third Vaughn is once again there, this time stalking an older woman who is crawling on the floor, desperate to get away.~

The Janitor: I assume you remember this now?

The Mechanic: Yes... who could forget the night you find your mother again?

~The woman pushes up against a wall, her hands raised in terror, as she begs off from her first son. The Vaughn standing before her doesn't appear to be showing any sympathy towards her... and neither is the Mechanic.~

The Mechanic: Sure, this wasn't an amazing moment for me, "Peter". But she deserved every moment of this. She abandoned me, abandoned my father in order to go raise a family elsewhere. She wanted to marry someone richer, giving up on my father since he was 'just' a janitor. She even changed her name, making it hard for me to track her down. But when I did... it's not like I hurt her. Maybe I scared her... but she would have been fine after that.

The Janitor: I'm sure that's one way to look at it... of course, she's never been seen again since the moment you cornered her in that abandoned building. Have you ever wondered why?

The Mechanic: She took out some loans and ran after that. It was her go-to move, to go into hiding and abandon her family. I'm not surprised she did it again.

The Janitor: What do you remember of this moment, though? Do you remember leaving the room afterwards? Do you remember her saying anything to you as you left? Do you remember ANYTHING ELSE from that night?

~To the side, the third Vaughn can be seen picking up what looks to be a left-behind 2x4. He hefts it in his hands, as the mother continues to beg, wanting to leave. After a second, though, everyone in the scene other than The Janitor and The Mechanic seems to freeze in place. The Mechanic steps forward, struggling to remember exactly what happened next.~

The Janitor: That right there? That's the extent of your memories, isn't it? I believe the next thing you remember is waking up in your apartment and washing off your hands. Do you remember why you were washing them?

~The Mechanic doesn't say a word. He's still trying to force his brain to remember, as if straining hard enough will knock a memory loose. But nothing's coming his way. He turns back to The Janitor, angry.~

The Mechanic: I didn't hurt her.

The Janitor: That's definitely debatable...

The Mechanic: I DIDN'T HURT HER!!!

~The Mechanic rushes at his twin, tackling him, even as another bright flash of light takes over the space, wiping everything from sight.~

Ever felt out of control in your life, Ails?

I’m not talking about the thrill of riding that perfect rollercoaster and knowing there’s nothing you can do to abort the plunge to the bottom far away. And I’m not talking about something truly terrifying like Thunder Knuckles driving the car you find yourself in. I’m talking about being completely, absolutely, totally out of control.

I’ve been there. And I don’t look proudly back upon those moments, I’ll admit it.

But then I have to think to myself: was I in control when I was just Peter “The Janitor” Vaughn? I don’t think so. That was the happy-go-lucky Peter, the guy who everyone loved to cheer for and always felt just a tiny bit of sadness when his shoulders were pinned to the mat, or he was forced to submit. Everyone knew that when The Janitor was on his way to the ring, it could be a very short match.

That version of me? He was a wimp. He was a coward who didn’t fight for the things he wanted. He was subservient to people like Mike Zybala, Jonathan Barrows, and Lucas Thames, among others. He would still even help clean the arenas after shows, because he couldn’t help himself. He was, in a word, pathetic.

So maybe my actions in the last year are the type that the world frowns upon. Maybe my old self WOULDN’T be too proud of what I’ve become. And you know what? I don’t give a damn. Because I’m proud. I love where I am in the business right now, one of the top threats in any promotion I decide to join. My conscience may say that I should be ashamed, but I don’t see what I could feel that way.

I’m going to stay the Peter Vaughn who is willing to use tranquilizer guns in his matches if it gives him that ultimate edge. I’m going to stay the Vaughn that makes deals with others to allow for success to take place, bettering myself and those who come with me. I’m going to stay the Vaughn who is just as willing to use a barbed wire broom as he is a submission hold. Because being willing to go that extra dark mile is what has led to me becoming such a success, and I’m not going to let that be taken away from me.

What does that mean for you, Ails? Well, it means that I’m more than willing to spill your blood in as many ways as I can find through the three levels of steel we’re going to be fighting through. If the best way to ensure that I stay the XWF Universal Champion is by taking you off the top of the highest cage and sending us crashing through level upon level until we hit the canvas, or even the floor below it… well, Page or someone else will carry my broken body back up to claim the gold, and I’ll be known as the greatest champion in XWF history.

That’s worth the pain. That’s worth the price. The question you have to ask yourself, Ails, is if, after all is said and done, are you willing to go to the edge and beyond like me? Or are you going to come up short?

If you have even a sliver of doubt, don’t show up on March 27th. Just walk away. While you still can.

~When the light clears, The Mechanic stands in a brand-new location, standing outside on the rooftop of an unknown building. He looks around, trying to orient himself, as The Janitor appears next to him.~

The Mechanic: Where have you taken me now, spirit?

The Janitor: This isn’t a Christmas Carol, Peter. It doesn’t work like that. Pretty much, you’re the one taking me everywhere. I’ve just applied the motivation of where to go. Those items that you were dishonest, dangerous, or damn near suicidal.

The Mechanic: Wait… suicidal? Is this… is this at the hospital?

~The Janitor just waits patiently, as the rooftop door opens. Peter Vaughn steps out of it, a Vaughn from not too long ago, judging by his looks. He walks forward and stands near the edge of the roof, looking outwards into the world.~

The Mechanic: Why bring me here? I was just being… introspective at the time, after a tragedy happened right in front of me.

The Janitor: Yes… the young fan who wanted to meet you, who was hit by the car in the parking lot. You were right there, able to see the whole thing. And you could have prevented it, couldn’t you?

The Mechanic: Now wait, that was never proven. I… okay, I hesitated, due to logically wondering if I could make the save in time. I weighed the pros and cons and didn’t make the leap. But if I had, who knows what would have happened.

The Janitor: Oh, I think you do, Peter. I think you know you could have been a savior for that kid, who’s now trapped in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

~The Vaughn on the rooftop takes another step forward, putting a toe across the edge of the roof. He seems to look down now, peering at the asphalt and concrete below. The Mechanic swallows, remembering how he was feeling at this point.~

The Janitor: How close do you think you came?

The Mechanic: What?

The Janitor: How close were you to committing suicide before Chris Page showed up?

~Behind them, the door swings open again. Chris Page, having been called to the hospital after what happened, goes up to Vaughn, talking to him. Vaughn eventually backs off the roof, shaking his head as he talks about not being able to feel sadness for what happened to the young man.~

The Mechanic: It really… it really wasn’t that close. I never planned on jumping. I had too much going for me to do that.

The Janitor: Uh huh. You can tell yourself that. But I’m sure you wonder like I do if we died in an alternate timeline, and what would have changed.

The Mechanic: Nah, alternate timelines are horseshit. I don’t believe in those, and neither should you, quite frankly.

The Janitor: So you say. It wasn’t long after this that you made another decision, wasn’t it?

The Mechanic: Oh, c’mon, at least give a guy a pair of sunglasses!

~Despite The Mechanic’s complaint, the bright light flashes through again. This time, we find ourselves outside on a street corner. The Mechanic looks around, reading the signs on the edge of the street, and his face immediately pales.~

The Mechanic: No… no, you didn’t…

The Janitor: You had to know we’d be coming here…

The Mechanic: Damn it… not to El Paso!!

~Peter Vaughn’s least-favorite city, for reasons that have still not been revealed, stands before the two men.~

The Mechanic: I don’t want to be here. Snap your fingers, let’s get outta here.

The Janitor: I’m sorry, Peter. But you need to confront all of your past deeds, including everything that happened in El Paso. From the actions of your youth to what happened recently, when you betrayed one organization to join another.

The Mechanic: … What?

~The view shifts to inside a bar in El Paso, where we see Vaughn making a phone call to his connection in the Maintenance Mafia. This is the moment that Vaughn became a double agent/triple agent/quadruple agent/et cetera. The Mechanic and The Janitor are standing outside, watching, as the phone call is made. As dramatic moments go, it’s one of the tamer ones we’ve seen so far.~

The Janitor: You had finally made it into the inner circle of the Custodial Coalition. You achieved your goal in that society. And then you go and immediately begin to betray your oath in order to infiltrate another organization? Do you even know what your plans were, setting up this double-cross?

The Mechanic: Oh, I know exactly what I had in mind, friend. And you should, too. Aren’t we connected, after all? Aren’t you supposed to be my “good side”?

The Janitor: I don’t think good and bad really matters here. It’s more about the harm that your actions have caused and how you feel about it.

~The Mechanic gives The Janitor a side glance, thinking things through. He leans against the side of the building.~

The Mechanic: You say that I betrayed the Custodial Coalition. But that’s an impossible statement. How could I be a traitor to both groups, without turning on either group? I’ve yet to do anything on either side that would be seen as a betrayal. I’m just keeping my options open and available. There’s been no harm there yet.

The Janitor: The key word is “yet”. What will you do when one side asks you to attack the other?

The Mechanic: Then I guess I’ll make my choice. It’s something that you have to remain flexible on, keep your mind working at all times on all the angles. For instance… the angle that’s telling me right now that this isn’t Purgatory.

The Janitor: … What do you mean?

The Mechanic: I admit, you’ve had me a little flummoxed. But I’ve seen all these effects before in the last year. I’m not on my way to Heaven or Hell, am I? I’m in VR.

~The Janitor stares for a moment at The Mechanic, and then begins laughing. As he laughs, he slowly begins to change, growing in size, and shrinking in hair. After a few seconds, he stands revealed in front of the true Vaughn, smiling at him.~

[Image: mrclean.jpg]

Master Cleaner: Bravo, Peter.

~Vaughn steps into a defensive position, preparing himself as he faces the mysterious leader of the Custodial Coalition, the Master Cleaner himself.~

I’ve never liked being tricked.

Back when I was younger, I actively hated magicians, because they never revealed their secrets. I knew they used some sleight of hand and distractions to pull off their tricks, but it would annoy me if I felt like I was fooled by them.

I’ve also hated the tricks of Ails, just showing up in the ring and grabbing my championship the way he’s been doing. Now, sure, I tricked him right back by shocking him with the rigged belt, but that was only retaliation for his own sneaky actions. That’s one thing Ails has in common with my old mentor, Mike Zybala. They both can disappear and reappear if they want to, and nobody sees how they do it.

I’m sure it’s just a trick, and Ails isn’t actually supernatural or anything. I mean, Zybala surely wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t have been able to beat him so decisively in our feud. But it still bugs me. It’s a way for Ails to feel superior to me, acting like he’s so special. It’s really a slap in the face, when you think about it. Why can’t he just be a normal guy who walks to the ring and slaps the hands of the fans like any regular wrestler?

In case you missed it, Ails, I DID put a special stipulation into the contract for our match. You’re not allowed to magically appear at the top of the third cage and get the championship that way. You have to start at the bottom and work your way up. No more special tricks and favors from the maintenance guys in charge. You and I both have to make the climb together.

So don’t shut the lights off this time, Ails. I don’t want you disqualified and removed from contendership. Everyone will just say “That’s another match Vaughn didn’t earn the victory, he was handed it”. I really don’t want to hear that again.

That bothers me just as much as being tricked.

So fight like a man, not a “god”, and show the world what you’re made of. Or maybe I’ll be the one showing the world what you’re made of when you’re broken and busted open at the foot of the last cage. I’m sure it will be an incredible sight, although maybe not one for our younger viewers. Some discretion is advised, people, because once Ails falls from the top, you’re going to see things maybe you never wanted to see before.

“And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty Alias back together again.”

~Peter Vaughn, now the only Vaughn left in our view, watches as the world seems to dissolve around them. It once again becomes the place of only light, as the Master Cleaner stands before him.~

Peter Vaughn: So this has all been a lie, huh, Master? Was I even shot?

Master Cleaner: Oh, you were most definitely shot, Peter. It just wasn’t the kind of shot you thought it was.

Peter Vaughn: Don’t tell me… you tranqed me…

~The Master Cleaner shrugs, with Vaughn looking annoyed, then resigned.~

Peter Vaughn: Well, I’ve done it to enough people, I can’t really complain, can I?

Master Cleaner: Would you consider that another of your sins?

Peter Vaughn: Hell no! And why are we still going on about sins and all? What was the point of this little adventure into my mind?

Master Cleaner: I would have thought that would be obvious, Peter. You turned on us. You joined the Maintenance Mafia.

Peter Vaughn: Okay, look, I know that looks back, but it’s like I said: I haven’t betrayed either group. In fact, I’m basically doing what you told me to do.

Master Cleaner: You think so, do you?

Peter Vaughn: You told me to infiltrate the gang. I infiltrated the gang! Sure, you didn’t think it would go on past the one mission, but it could still be useful, couldn’t it?

Master Cleaner: Maybe. IF you had come to me, that might have been an option.

Peter Vaughn: … Is someone else listening?

Master Cleaner: EVERYONE is listening, Peter. Unfortunately, now you’ve become an example to our group.

Peter Vaughn: I don’t think I like the sound of that.

~Behind Vaughn, a pit seems to be slowly opening up. It’s happening so quietly that Vaughn doesn’t realize what’s happening. The Master Cleaner shakes his head sadly.~

Master Cleaner: Peter Vaughn… you are now cast out of the Custodial Coalition… and you will spend the remainder of your time here… earning your penance.

Peter Vaughn: My penance? What do you… whoa!

~The pit suddenly widens, right underneath Vaughn’s feet. He staggered on the edge for a short second or two, but there was no stopping the inevitable. He drops backwards, into the pit, disappearing from The Master Cleaner’s sight.~

Master Cleaner: Goodbye, Peter.

~We switch to Vaughn’s perspective, as he plunges downwards underground. He flies towards the ground below, holding up his hands in a desperate need to protect himself. He needed have bothered, as he surprisingly stops a foot from the ground, floating in mid-air. Vaughn slowly opens his eyes, looking around and realizing what happened. A moment later, Vaughn falls the final foot, bouncing on the hard ground. He pulls himself up, massaging his wrist where he landed and looking around. The place appears to be an inferno, with flames ravaging the land in all directions. The sounds of shrieks and screams can be heard in the distance. Vaughn takes it all in, snorting to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: So… they literally put me in Hell, huh? Hmmm… well, I’ve been needing a good tan. Might as well get started. Who do I have to take down in order to be king here, huh? Look out, demons! Peter Vaughn’s here!

~Vaughn walks forward, following the path as creatures can be seen peering out at him from all around. They look ready to jump on him and tear him to pieces, but Vaughn doesn’t look afraid in the slightest. He moves on, ready for whoever attacks him first to regret it. As he gets further away from the camera, we can see the first beasts leaping at him. We cut away before we see the final result.~

Which would you rather be? A pawn in Heaven or a King in Hell?

For some, that's an easy decision. For the smarter ones, though, it's worth a debate to make the right choice. For me? I would choose Hell every time. Does that make me insane? Morally bankrupt? Or just making the emotionless choice? Who really knows?

I'm prepared to make your life Hell, Ails. That much I do know. You're facing me in a match that works to all my best traits: my speed & agility, my craftiness, my ability to climb faster than a crazed monkey going up a palm tree. Yes, I could have said other trees, but if you've never seen them fly up a palm, you wouldn't understand. The point is, this match has been tailor-made for me to succeed and put the myth & legend of ALIAS down for good. Every weapon in there is going to be one that I can use with perfect precision to dent your skull, crack your spine, and obliterate your joints. You'll be lucky if you're able to walk out of the hospital weeks later.

Don't get me wrong. I'd rather not end your career or your life. I have no interest in that. No, I just want those fans out there to realize the greatness of Peter Vaughn, and the best way to do that is leave images in all their minds about what I can do to their heroes.

You're going to be such a beautiful example, Ails. I can't wait to see it happen.

Assuming I get myself out of Hell. Which is going to be one hell of a quest to undertake. But you know what? Bring it on. I'm climbing up out of Hell, climbing out of Master Cleaner's power, and I'm climbing up those cages and reclaiming my rightfully-earned championship.

I'm coming for you, Ails. I'll see you soon.

Somehow.