The Road So Far:

A Secret War Is Brewing, P1

A Secret War Is Brewing, P2

A Secret War Is Brewing, P3

Near Misses or Near Hits?

A Trip Down Memory Lane

A Trip Through Hell



I know I'm the narrator, but sometimes even I'm not sure what's going on. So let's take this one step at a time and try and figure it out together, shall we?

Peter Vaughn has been in the midst of a special mission, known only to him, where he has joined two underground organizations: the Custodial Coalition and the Maintenance Mafia. Neither group knows which has Vaughn's full allegiance, and supposedly the Coalition doesn't know that he's turned into a double, or possibly triple, agent. Yet Vaughn has been concerned as of late that his cover may have been blown, due to a drive-by incident that came too close for comfort.

A short time later, Vaughn seemingly was shot.

Vaughn would awaken in a strange reality, with a prior version of himself, a Janitor, if you will, showing him some of his darkest moments and pushing him to repent. Vaughn, though, believed that he was in the virtual reality system of the Coalition, which was seemingly proved true with the appearance of the Master Cleaner, who promptly sent Vaughn to Hell.

I know, right?

So Vaughn had a meet-up with The Devil, who didn't seem like such a bad guy. Vaughn has since pushed his way up from the bowels of Hell, working through every Circle of tortured souls, meeting some of the worst historical figures of all time (and Betty White, who was awesome), and finding an apparent friendship with former President John F. Kennedy... who turned out to be Satan in disguise.

I KNOW, right?

But Vaughn escaped Satan's trap, tapping into his own control of virtual reality, and has blasted out of Hell, seeking revenge on the man who put him there: Master Cleaner. However, is Vaughn actually in VR? Because our last moments from a day ago showed Vaughn in a hospital bed, unconscious.

I KNOW, RIGHT??

So with all that said... it's time to get a better idea of what's REALLY going on...

---

~The picture slowly opens back in the hospital room seen at the end of our last adventure. We see a view from above of Peter Vaughn, lying in the bed. There is a bandage wrapped around his forehead, and a couple of small bandages on his right arm, but otherwise, he could just be sleeping. In a hospital room. With the heartbeat monitor going off next to him, giving a strong rhythm throughout the room. Standing nearby, we see "Chronic" Chris Page, Vaughn's agent, and his brother, Thomas Hill.~

Chris Page: Did they say when he's going to wake up? This guy's got a lot of matches soon, including defending the XWF Universal Title. I'd... he'd be pissed if the title got vacated.

Thomas Hill: The doctors say it's... complicated.

Chris Page: Complicated how? I heard a rumor on the way here that Vaughn was actually shot?

Voice: The answer to that is Yes and No.

~Page and Hill turn at the sound of the new voice, as a man is walking into the room. He's got on a brown trenchcoat and a fedora, a unique look in this day and age. He takes off the hat, revealing his dark, messy hair as he nods to the two men.~

Thomas Hill: Chris, this is the detective who's looking into what happened. Detective... I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name.

Detective Black: It's Black. Detective Ian Black. I've worked with your client before, Mr. Page.

Chris Page: Funny, Peter's never mentioned you. But it's not like we talk personal lives that often. So what can you tell me?

Detective Black: Last night, Mr. Vaughn was on his way to his truck after leaving a building in the south side of Dallas. I'm not sure what he was doing there, to be frank with you. We're still looking into that. But we do know that someone took a shot at Mr. Vaughn with a high-powered rifle from quite a distance away.

Chris Page: So he WAS shot!

Detective Black: Again, Yes and No.

~Page looks confused, as the detective reaches into his pocket and pulls out an evidence bag. He shows Page what's inside: a basically destroyed cell phone, shards and all.~

Detective Black: This case apparently took the hit for Vaughn. It would have knocked him off of his feet, for sure, but the bullet thankfully never penetrated. It just destroyed some hardware.

Chris Page: That's a relief. But then, why is he still here in the hospital?

Thomas Hill: The doctors think it's because of how he landed. His head snapped back into concrete, knocking him out . He probably lost consciousness fairly quickly. What the doctors don't know is why he's still unconscious. One of them was speculating that it had something to do with all the head shots Peter has taken over the years, but another thought it might be psychological.

Chris Page: Can we just smack him again, get him to wake up? Or what about a dose of adrenaline?

Thomas Hill: That would be a last-case option. For now, the doctors want to give him a chance to come out of it on his own. But we really don't know what's going on in there.

Detective Black: Since I have you here, Mr. Page, I was wondering if you could answer a few other questions I have.

Chris Page: I can answer what I can, although you know I have a confidentiality agreement with all my clients.

Detective Black: Well, can you answer why Mr. Vaughn would have another one of these?

~The detective brings out another evidence bag, this one containing a second cell phone. This one did not take any bullets, making it infinitely more usable. Page looks a bit perplexed, shaking his head. The two continue to talk, speculating about why Vaughn was carrying two cell phones, as the camera slowly focuses back on Vaughn's face. You can see the REM - Rapid Eye Movement - going on behind his eyelids, showing that Vaughn is certainly not a vegetable. But no one in the real world can know what's happening in the recesses of Peter Vaughn's mind at the moment. Only we get to see...~

---

"Hello darkness, my old friend... I've come to talk with you again..."

I don't know if you'd like being called the Darkness or not, Ails. But sometimes I do get that feeling from you, that you're actually darker than me. That, once again, proves how dense a lot of the fans out there are, rooting for you when you can come across as an absolute madman, while booing me for finding practical, intelligent ways to win my matches. There's just no appreciation for good manipulation these days, is there?

I mean, it's clear you've got some problems, seeing that you talk about burning your own left hand as if it was your own decision. Do you really believe that? Are you that obtuse, not seeing the forest for the trees? I mean, I thought it was fairly obvious, which is why I kept commenting about it. Do you not see that the Left Hand drove you to burning that hand? That, in a way, it was one of their greatest victories? For the rest of your life, your own left hand is going to remind you of that force that doesn't exist anymore, but will live on forever... through you.

I mean, I would have just gotten a tattoo or something. That would have been smarter.

And then there's your talk about liking my body type, but wishing I was 15 years younger. Ummm, dude, I'm 30 years old, so this just got incredibly creepy. You know what? I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you thought I was a lot older. I can definitely say I've had a tough life, and it shows on my face. I'll never be one of those runway models, and I'll never have my picture on a poster in some girl's bedroom.

Do kids even still do that nowadays? I don't even know.

So let's just say you thought I was 35. That way, it'd be a twenty-year-old you're dreaming about. That's good. That's legal. Maybe still a little too young for a guy like you, but in the terms of the law, it's still allowed, so good for you. That being said... first you want to eat me, and then you want to fuck me. Why do I get the feeling I need to have a safe word going into this contest?

Asparagus. No, I don't like the "ass" at the beginning of that. What about... Flushometer? No, no, plumbing term, you might misconstrue it. Hey, how about "Fuck Off, Ails"? I like that one.

Let me break it down to you, Ails. I really have no time in my life right now for a relationship. I am completely dedicated to being an all-star wrestler everywhere I go, and let's face it, my emotional disconnections would make it unfair to a significant other. So I'm not looking for anyone, and I'm sure not looking for casual S&M with you. Sorry, man, you're just not my type, no matter which way I aged or de-aged you.

I'm also not interested in letting you walk out of the Tokyo Dome under your own power. You may think that this match works fully to your advantage, and you go ahead and keep thinking that. I don't want you to realize the truth until the end, when you have that single moment of clarification that you've screwed up. It will be much, much too late when that moment comes, though, for you to do anything to stop it.

I'm going to enjoying making you use the wheelchair-accessible ramp at the next show. I'll even change your name from Ails to Whails. It works on multiple levels. Yes, it's going to be a thrill, seeing you dismantled and your reputation forever tarnished.

Assuming I can ever wake my damn self up.

---

~The view becomes that of a spectacular landscape. It almost seems like an ancient world in Greece, with pillars standing all around us. Seated in the middle of one set of pillars is the Master Cleaner. He appears to be meditating, focused on nothing but the 'world' around him. There is a slight rumble in the air, that gets him to open his eyes. He sighs, knowing what's to come. The Master Cleaner rises to his feet, preparing himself, as the rumble grows more intense. It seems like an earthquake, and in some ways, it is, as Peter Vaughn comes blasting up out of the ground nearby, floating in mid-air as he looks around the area.~

Peter Vaughn: MASTER CLEANER!!!

~Vaughn does a full rotation, his body glowing like a Super Saiyan having reached his final form. He spots the Master Cleaner waiting for him and slowly lowers back to the ground. He walks over to him, still fuming at what he's been put through at the hands of this man.~

Peter Vaughn: You have a lot to answer for, Master.

Master Cleaner: You believe so, Peter?

Peter Vaughn: You... cast me into Hell!

Master Cleaner: Did I? Or did your own actions lead to that inevitability? You were the one who decided to potentially betray the Coalition by joining with the Maintenance Mafia.

Peter Vaughn: It wasn't going to be a betrayal! It was all going to be an amazing series of events, and you just had to ruin it! I just had to keep it secret for just a little longer...

Master Cleaner: "Three things cannot long stay hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth."

Peter Vaughn: You're quoting Buddha to me now? A little on the nose, don't you think?

Master Cleaner: What I think is that you are not yet in the right frame of mind to listen to the truth, Peter. Do we really have to do this?

Peter Vaughn: You know that we do. It had to happen... just not this soon.

~The Master Cleaner nods once, raising a hand out to his right. There is a flash as the VR landscape seems to change, becoming more intense. In the Master Cleaner's hand, he now holds one of his most powerful weapons: the Broom of Beheading.~







~Vaughn darkly smiles and raises his own hand, with another cosmic push coming around him. Now Vaughn looks younger, with more hair, as if channeling back to his janitorial days. He also has his own broom, ready for war, as he swings it around him.~







~The two men begin to circle around each other, as the dramatic music begins to raise to another notch. A chorus can be heard, singing heavily in the background...~



Chorus: "Soon It Will All Be Clean..."



~Both men show the intensity on their faces, knowing this could be a final conflict. Vaughn's smile has not faded; in fact, it may be stronger than before.~



Chorus: "Floors, Doors, Walls, Halls..."



~Vaughn swings his broom around one more time, snapping his fingers, and barbed wire appears on the edge of his broom. He waves to the Master Cleaner to come at him. In response, the Master Cleaner raises his own broom, with it suddenly lighting on fire.~



Chorus: "They're So Tough, They'll Clean Them All!!"



~With their yells mingling together in the air, Vaughn and the Master Cleaner leap towards each other, their weapons held high. They smash into each other, with the force of a kiloton bomb erupting from between them.~

---

~Hill, Page, and the detective react immediately at the sudden shriek from the heart monitor. They all rush over, as Vaughn can be seen on the bed, seemingly having a seizure. Hill and Page get on either side, holding down his arms, as the detective runs to get help.~

Chris Page: What the HELL is happening??

Thomas Hill: C'mon, bro! FIGHT!!

~A doctor comes running in with a nurse, pushing past Hill in order to work on their patient, who is shaking back and forth, as if in a desperate battle for survival.~

---

Are you ready for a war that people will be talking about the rest of their lives?

I sure hope so, Ails. I've said over and over that this fight, to me, is more than just a championship fight. This is a battle for the ages, a confrontation that will blow the minds of all XWF fans as they sit back in utter shock at how violent and mesmerizing it becomes. I want the notoriety of this battle to be spoken of for decades, as one of, if not the, greatest war in XWF history.

I know you want it too. You've talked about the thrill of battle before, and I guarantee you, by the time this one is done, you'll have that thrill coursing through your bloodstream... and flowing out through your various cuts, breaks, and shreds of what's left of your skin.

You are the one I've been waiting for, Ails. Drew Archyle couldn't muster up the strength. Jim Caedus didn't live up to expectations, I think everyone can agree on that. Barney Green let me down, as he didn't rise to the occasion. Tommy Wish was a disaster better forgotten about. Now Centurion tried, he really did, and I respect him for it, but even defeating him wasn't the mark I was hoping for.

But you, Ails? You're the one. I defeat you, and I remove all levels of doubt out there that I'm a truly elite wrestler. And it can't be a one and done affair. I can't just knock you out easily, climb all the cages, and get the title, as the crowd heavily boos how boring the contest was. No, we need to have a conflict that shakes the foundations of heaven and hell, something that will have every person in the arena getting their tickets preserved to tell future generations: "I was there."

Can you do it, Ails? Can you give me the bloody fight to the finish that I've been waiting for since I got here in the XWF? Can you make this a war to end all wars? Or will you disappoint me like so many others have before?

Just speaking for myself... I believe in you. Make it happen.

Let the blood ring down and the word go out, that this was the most epic contest ever. And that you can proudly reflect on it years later, as the moment that "The Mechanic" became the ultimate legend of the business.

---

~The war has continued throughout the land, blowing away anything that was previously standing. There are glimpses of colors jumping back and forth, too quick for the eye to see, as the war between these two apparently supernatural beings has continued. There is one particularly bright flash of light, and a meteor rockets towards the earth below. It crashes into the ground, bringing up a huge cloud of dust. After a few seconds, the dust dissipates, and we see the Master Cleaner pulling himself out of a crater in the ground. Peter Vaughn comes floating down near him, still looking enraged. Neither is holding a weapon anymore: both have probably been obliterated by the force of the battle.~

Master Cleaner: You have learned a lot, young Vaughn. Your skills are truly impressive.

Peter Vaughn: You think so? You haven't seen anything yet.

~Vaughn flexes his arms, beginning to channel more energy. Suddenly, he seems to be growing. He's up 10 feet... 20 feet... 30 feet... he's becoming a giant, grinning as he towers over the Master Cleaner, glaring down at him with darkness shining through his eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I Control This World!! Me!! Your Time Has Passed!!

~Vaughn raises his leg up, preparing to squash the Master Cleaner and end this battle once and for all. He brings his boot down... and the Master Cleaner catches it, quickly growing to giant-size as well!! He throws Vaughn backwards, causing him to crash into some strange buildings that have appeared around them. Vaughn growls, getting back to his feet.~

Master Cleaner: You may think you have control, Peter. But just by us having this conflict, it is clear that you are wrong. You are NOT in control. You have doubts!

~With a roar of rage, Vaughn launches himself forward, a Titan, throwing a mighty fist into the side of the Master Cleaner. He responds with a strike of his own, with these two massive goliaths unleashing shots that would disintegrate anyone who got between them.~

Peter Vaughn: Fall, Damn You!!

Master Cleaner: Not until you see the truth!!

~The Master Cleaner catches Vaughn under the chin, staggering him. He moves in, trying to wrap up Vaughn from behind, but Vaughn quickly unleashes a low blow through the Master Cleaner's legs, causing him to fall backwards, trashing a few more buildings. Vaughn turns, his eyes igniting, and he lets loose with a blast of pure energy right into the Master Cleaner's face!!! The large man stumbles away, his face badly burned, as Vaughn continues after him in pursuit. All signs of control are gone. This is Vaughn at almost his most primal, a sight only seen once or twice in the real world before.~

~This is Vaughn completely unrestrained.~

---

~Vaughn's arms and legs are now shuddering, although the majority of the spasms have apparently ceased. The doctor gets another dose of medicine ready, to try and control the reactions taking place inside the wrestler's body. Meanwhile, a nurse is pushing Hill, Page, and the detective backwards.~

Nurse: You can't be here right now! Please give the doctor some space!

Thomas Hill: Is he going to make it??

Nurse: Just let us do our work, we'll do everything we can for him. Now go!

~Page grabs Hill's arm, helping to pull him out into the hallway with the detective. The door is shut, keeping them out from all that's going on.~

Thomas Hill: God damn it!

Chris Page: Don't worry, Thomas. Vaughn's too stubborn to lose a match with the Grim Reaper. He'll come out of this, I'm sure of it.

~Page nods to Thomas, then walks down the hallway, pulling out his phone and sending some texts. They might be to alert others about Vaughn's condition. They might be Page already arranging for a replacement for Vaughn from someone else in the CCPE stable of wrestlers. The business must go on, after all. We cut away from the scene.~

---

Sometimes the outcomes just feel out of your control, don't they?

I know you talked some about your own life, Ails, and how you were losing years of your life due to not being in control. You seem to think I had the option of changing my fate when I was younger. Let's talk about that. You're saying that a kid whose mother left him as a child got to make that choice? Funny, I don't remember ever saying "Hey, Ma, why don't you go away for the rest of my life". No, that shit just happened. My mother abandoned my family, and there wasn't even a good reason for it. She wanted out, wanted something different, and that was that.

So how about a child getting to choose who his father is? No? That doesn't happen? My dad wasn't a bad guy, or a bad father, but his decisions led him to being a general maintenance man which paid next to nothing, and I had no say in how that ended up. You think I chose to be bullied constantly by the other kids, who thought being a janitor's kid was a mark of shame? You think I chose being socially isolated, with me becoming a time bomb that wouldn't erupt until decades later? True, I could have been less of a wimp and punched some guys in the mouth. I'm sure that would have gone over well with the rest of the thugs, as well as the people in charge of my school.

No, Ails. There weren't any choices in how I grew up. That's life. You either live with it or die from it.

You could say, MAYBE, that I chose to become a janitor myself while in junior high and high school. Technically, it WAS a choice. I could help with paying the bills with my father, or I could go without eating food. If you've never lived with the fun of having buttered pieces of bread as your main meal four days in a row, you know nothing about what kind of a choice that was. I HAD to earn some money, and it wasn't like anyone else was hiring a kid besides, well, some businesses that I wanted no part of.

Hell, I didn't even really have a choice in becoming a wrestler. That one I don't regret, however. Sometimes things just work out, I suppose.

And now it feels like the current state of affairs is out of my control as well. Page, I'm sure, is already talking to Mac or Thad, seeing if they'd be interested in a night's work one of the biggest shows of the year. But you know what? I refuse to let this be decided by someone else. I'm not going to let this chance of humbling you get away from me.

I'm going to wake up, and I'm going to come kick your ass. My choice, my rules, my victory.

---

~Back inside Vaughn's mind, the battle had continued to rage. And it's apparently not settling down. At all.~



~The explosion seems to take over everything in range, disintegrating the landscape to splinters and shrapnel. As the brightness dies away, we see two men standing at the epicenter of the eruption. They appear to both be naturally sized again... or maybe the landscape grew to accommodate them. Either way, neither looks to be in the best shape. The Master Cleaner is laying on his side, looking burnt all over. Peter Vaughn is kneeling nearby, still smoking from the awesome release of power that just took place. He's shaking badly, but still manages to rise up to his feet. He slowly limps over to the Master Cleaner, studying him.~

Peter Vaughn: You told me once... master... that anyone could die in here. It just takes the right series of events, right? So... how close are you? Are you beginning... to feel it? Is your end near?

~The Master Cleaner painfully sits up, against all odds of being able to move. Vaughn watches him warily, wondering if this is once again a trick.~

Master Cleaner: You... still... don't... understand...

Peter Vaughn: You keep saying that. WHAT don't I understand? You refusing to listen to me? You turning on me? I've had that happen to me all my life! I'm used to it! And I won't let you stop me, just like I never let anyone else!

Master Cleaner: You're... still... making... the choices... Peter...

Peter Vaughn: Damn right I am! What's wrong with that?

Master Cleaner: You chose... the Mafia... you chose... the secret...

Peter Vaughn: So? SO WHAT?? Are you saying this is MY fault? Are you saying that I'M the one who caused all of this??

~Vaughn angrily waves his hand, pulling a piece of earth out of the ground near him. He floats it up into the sky, lifting it above the Master Cleaner, who doesn't move away.~

Peter Vaughn: I... I won't take the blame! No matter what you say!!

~Just as Vaughn's arm starts to move, a shadow appears from behind, locking Vaughn up into a full nelson hold!! He struggles, shocked, as the person holds him in place, with the boulder falling to the side, doing no damage.~

Peter Vaughn: What the hell??

Voice: I think what the pendejo is trying to say is that you could have avoided all of this, ese.

[b[~Vaughn gasps, hearing the sound of the man who gave him the deal in El Paso. The man who handed Vaughn his telephone number, asking if he wanted to work with him. The man from the Maintenance Mafia.~[/b]

Peter Vaughn: SALVAJE???

~Salvaje laughs, holding Vaughn tight, as the Master Cleaner pulls himself up. He isn't in great shape, but he's got enough left to start hammering the defenseless Vaughn with lefts and rights to the mid-section, doing some more damage.~

---

~Inside the hospital room, Vaughn is shaking violently again. The doctors are racing around him, trying to get him fully strapped down.~

Nurse: Doctor, what is this?? I've never seen anything like it!!

Doctor: I don't know, Susan, but I don't think he can take much more, whatever's going on! His brain activity and heart rate are off the charts!

~Sedatives haven't worked. Ice packs have been brought in. But so far, the doctors have a feeling that there's not much they can do until the situation is resolved, one way or another.~

---

Twists and turns, turns and twists. You never know what's coming next in this universe.

Of course, you have to prepare for all of them. At least, you should. But you seem to have a low opinion of the men and women I used to work with. The Exiles. You say that they were never a factor? That's... actually refreshing, really. Normally all I hear is people bellyaching that I only got to where I was today because of having the Exiles backing me up. But I think you've swung a little too far to the other end of the spectrum, Ails, because discounting them entirely is a pretty major mistake for a former Universal Champion to be making.

I acknowledge that I probably wouldn't have gotten to the title opportunities I earned without the Exiles' help. After all, Apex was dead set for eliminating me from competition wherever I was wrestling. They would quadruple-team anyone they got the chance against, and the fans would cheer, because it's not evil when the good guys do it, right? Without The Exiles' evening of the odds, Caedus probably would have still been the champion. Or maybe not.

Because if the Exiles hadn't joined me in beating your ass down at Bad Medicine, Caedus wouldn't have had the balls to come out and cash in his opportunity. You would have been too alert and too big a threat for him to handle, so no way you would have lost the title that night. So using that example, I'd say the Exiles were MORE than a small factor in leading to where we are today.

Now, you may want to act like numbers don't matter. I mean, every macho man does it. "I'll fight through twenty man, no, fifty men to get my title!" Yeah. Unfortunately, everyone knows the truth. Even the almighty, immortal ALIAS can't beat the numbers. Otherwise, you would have been able to do it when it was only four-on-one. You couldn't even handle that, what makes you think you could handle twenty?

Bear in mind, as I said, I don't plan on bringing those numbers to the ring. Honestly, I'm sick and tired of people commenting that I haven't earned anything. But for you to blow off the idea of having so many against you is just showing your ignorance of basic truths. It's almost like you're giving me permission to stack the deck against you, and I'm trying really hard to resist that urge.

As we've both said before, though, sometimes things are just out of your control.

---

~With a roar, Vaughn throws his arms out, sending off another blast of energy. The explosion causes Salvaje to get knocked off of him, as well as sending the Master Cleaner onto his back. Vaughn spins around, staring at Salvaje in absolute shock.~

Peter Vaughn: You... you can't be here, Salvaje...

Salvaje: Oh no? And yet I seem to be here, ese.

Peter Vaughn: No... no, you can't... the Maintenance Mafia doesn't have a connection to this system. That's... that's what you wanted me to get for you!!

~Salvaje dusts himself off, smirking. Vaughn looks back over his shoulder, but the Master Cleaner still hasn't recovered. He turns back to the Maintenance Mafia member, trying to figure out what's going on.~

Salvaje: You still think you're in some VR somewhere? ¿Eres tan estúpido, pendejo?

~Vaughn's Spanish is pretty rusty, but he still gets the gist of what Salvaje is saying.~

Peter Vaughn: If... if I'm not in VR... then where am I?

Salvaje: Buena pregunta. He's finally starting to figure it out, eh, Cleaner?

~Vaughn turns back to the Master Cleaner, who is now getting to his feet. Remarkably, all of the burn wounds are disappearing, as if they were never there. The Master Cleaner simply waits, saying nothing, as Vaughn glances back and forth between them. He then grabs at his chest, feeling a sudden ache.~

Peter Vaughn: The... the bullet...

~Suddenly, the imagery around them changes, as they are all now standing on a street corner. We see that time has apparently stopped, as everyone is frozen in place. Vaughn walks forward, looking at one particular individual: himself. He views Peter Vaughn is mid-fall, having been struck. He's tilted at a crazy angle, showing how hard he's going to hit when he lands. The moving Vaughn considers him, thinking things over.~

Peter Vaughn: Did... did I die? It looks like a heart shot. Very professional. No wonder my chest has been hurting.

Master Cleaner: You're not dead.

Peter Vaughn: But I got hit... so am I lying there on the sidewalk, bleeding out? Not quite how I ever pictured myself going out. Then again, it's better than getting eaten by a shark or slowly wasting away.

Salvaje: You aren't giving up, are you, idiota?

Master Cleaner: No, I don't think he has that in him.

Peter Vaughn: So what are you saying? I need to beat both of you in order to get out of here?

~Salvaje laughs, raising his hands.~

Salvaje: We can fight from here until eternity if you wish, amigo, but I don't know that it would change anything.

Peter Vaughn: Then what? WHAT do I need to do?

Master Cleaner: I've told you already, Peter.

~The Master Cleaner is suddenly blurry, as if something is going on inside. A piece peels off of him, reforming to his side into "The Janitor" Peter Vaughn. This version of Vaughn is the one who looks like the happy, jaunty Janitor of old.~

The Janitor: You need to confront your past, and make a choice.

Peter Vaughn: What, for the supposed betrayal? I haven't betrayed anyone! Well, not yet, at least...

The Janitor: But you know you're going to have to do it at some point. You put yourself in this position. And we both know that you consider loyalty one of your strongest qualities.

Master Cleaner: There's no emotion in loyalty. Just logic.

Salvaje: You felt like you could make any decision and you wouldn't feel a thing about it.

The Janitor: But it hasn't worked out that way over the last month, has it?

Master Cleaner: It has been eating at you... churning under the surface...

Salvaje: That feeling in your gut...

The Janitor: Knowing that you were set to be a traitor, one way or another...

~Vaughn is rubbing at his head, as if to stop the thoughts from making their way inside.~

Peter Vaughn: No... no, I don't care about any of that. I saw an opportunity to broaden my base, to gain more power, and I took it. It's nothing more than that.

Master Cleaner: Then explain your feelings. Why you're fighting so hard to deny why you're here.

Peter Vaughn: I'm not denying anything! I'm speaking the truth! What, I'm supposed to get all teared up at the thought of turning on someone? I'm a wrestler, these things happen! You... you can't be honorable in the wrestling business. It never worked for me. So I should feel bad about double-crossing the Coalition? Or tricking the Mafia?

Salvaje: Nah, betrayal, it's kind of our thing, yeah?

Master Cleaner: One of us probably shot you.

Salvaje: Oh, definitely, amigo!

Peter Vaughn: So... then.... it makes no sense.... WHY DO I FEEL GUILTY???

~Vaughn drops to a knee, shaking his head, finally admitting the truth. The Janitor, smiling, kneels down next to him.~

The Janitor: Maybe because you've been looking for something like the Coalition your entire life... a comradery you have only found once before, with your father... and now that you've found it, you're looking for ways to throw it away...

~Vaughn just continues to look downwards, having this expressed right in his face. The other three figures, who may or may not be from his own imagination, wait silently with him, letting him have the time to work out what he really needs to do.~

Peter Vaughn: I.... I just...

~Suddenly, there's an eruption from the ground nearby, causing all four figures to jump away. They turn as a group, looking as a staircase has suddenly appeared, coming up to the surface. A large figure walks upwards, stepping in front of them.~

Satan: Hey, buddies! Are we about ready to make our choice?

~The Prince of Darkness grins as he comes forward, joining the festivities once again.~

---

~Thomas Hill has found a bench and is sitting quietly outside his half-brother's hospital room. He jumps slightly as Detective Black appears in front of him, holding a tray.~

Detective Black: You looked like you might be hungry.

Thomas Hill: Not really.

Detective Black: Oh, good, more for me, then!

~The detective sits down next to Thomas, taking a bite out of his sandwich. Thomas scoots over, not wanting to be too close to the man.~

Detective Black: Y'know, I have learned a lot of Peter's story. But you're still a bit of an enigma. I know you had loan shark issues, and Peter helped you out with that. But I'm still not sure about what else you're connected to.

Thomas Hill: What do you mean?

Detective Black: I mean about Jonathan Barrows, and what happened to him. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?

~Thomas sputters for a moment, then reaches past the detective, grabbing the second sandwich. He starts taking big bites, nodding to him, while the detective raises a critical eyebrow. Before he can say anything else, though, Detective Black's attention is diverted by Chris Page coming back down the hall.~

Detective Black: Heard anything yet?

Chris Page: Huh? You two are the ones sitting in front of the room, how would I have heard anything?

Detective Black: Ahhhh, good point, good point.

~Thomas just nods while eating more of the sandwich. The door near them suddenly opens, with the nurse stepping out and looking towards them. Thomas immediately starts coughing, trying to swallow.~

Nurse: I've got... some news...

~The group looks up towards her, wondering what is coming next, as we cut away.~

---

You know what, Ails? I think we're getting close to the end of our little tete-a-tete.

Okay, so we're talking on the airwaves, that makes it less private, but still, you get my meaning.

We've both talked about our motivations to win. We've gone over in detail how we're not scared of the other, how we're both going to seriously injure the other, and how you want to eat and/or fuck me. I think we've covered almost everything.

About the only thing I see left for some debate is your comments about being able to change the world as the Universal Champion. I find that fascinating, really. You know, I've been the champ for nearly two months now, and you know what? The world hasn't changed. Is it because I'm not trying enough? Or is it just because that statement is utter lunacy?

See, here's the thing, Ails: when you were champion for, what, six months? Did you feel like the world was getting better because you were on top of the mountain? Were you visiting sick kids, maybe, or helping the helpless? Were you out there at the soup kitchens, buying extra soup supplies for the chefs? I don't really remember any of that being newsworthy, but I suppose that doesn't mean you weren't doing it. The media people tend to think of stuff like that as boring self-help stories and stick them at the end of broadcasts or in the back of the newspaper.

Maybe you could use your power as champion by helping the world climate right now? Hey, we're closing in on another World War, it wouldn't hurt to try, right? Wrong. Because there isn't a god-damn thing I can do about it as champion. Sure, I could get myself flown into Russia and try and give Putin a Revenged or The Plunge, but you think that would actually change anything? I mean, it'd be fun, but I'd also probably end up being arrested/shot/disappeared... and someone else would get the 'power' of being the champion.

So you see, saying you're going to change the world when you become the champion makes you sound pretty damn crazy, Ails. You might be more out of your mind than I've been, and that's saying something.

Now, that being said... I've helped some people since I started getting the big bucks. As you mentioned, I've been protecting Aimi, giving her a place to stay and to heal, while bringing new life into the world. I've sent some money to charities, and I've even paid the hospital bills of a fan or two. It wasn't really out of any sort of pity or anything, just because I could. But I don't think I'd go far enough to call that changing the world. I don't have a big enough fulcrum for that.

So if you really think that holding my championship will make you some sort of God hovering over the hopeless, well, we've got some professionals that can help you with something like that. They also love these things called straitjackets. I think the fit will be perfect for you.

The nice thing is, you don't have to worry about finding out what you can and can't do with this title, because it's not leaving my possession. I'm going to be on top of the XWF for a long, long time... maybe long enough that the opportunity to change the world WILL arise.

And I'll probably let it slip on past me, because I don't really give a damn about the world. And you'll have to watch that moment and know that it's your fault it didn't happen. Won't that be fun?

---

~Vaughn is back on his feet now, ready to fight. It's not a surprising reaction, since the last time Vaughn saw him, Satan had been trying to trap him into his own section of Hell. Satan, though, seems all smiles now.~

Satan: How you feeling, Peter? Damn, you guys really did a number on this place up here, didn't you? Glad this fight didn't take place on my turf, hah hah!

Peter Vaughn: I've got more than enough left to jam my boot up your ass, Satan...

Satan: Ooooo, is that an offer? Well, save it for later, Peter. We have business to conduct.

~Satan gives a quick wave, and suddenly there are three doors visible. We see one, a normal door, standing on its own in the middle of nowhere. The second door is floating above, seemingly out of reach. The final door is laying flat on the ground, as if covering an opening to the netherworld.~

Satan: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Pick Your Door!!

~There's suddenly the sound of game-show music and a crowd cheering, even though there is nobody nearby. Obviously, this one's not being recorded in front of a live studio audience. Satan does a quick spin and bow, before turning back to the puzzled Vaughn.~

Satan: Mr. Peter Vaughn, we've got three choices for you today! First off, only a short flight away for a Neo guy like you, it's Door #1! This door will lead you to... well, that glowy place in the sky that, for some reason, everyone likes. I've visited it, didn't think it was all that great, but to each his own.

~The first door opens briefly, allowing us to hear the sounds of angels singing, before slamming shut again.~

Satan: In Door #2, you've got the glorious vacation spa known as Jahannam... and, okay, better off known as Hell. We have the best saunas in the underworld, and we will have smores every single night you're there!

~The second door opens to a cacophony of screams, with Satan quickly knocking the door back closed.~

Satan: Okay, it may not be the Four Seasons, but I can guarantee that you will be given a very high-ranking position working for me. There is definitely room for promotions, as well.

Peter Vaughn: Getting promoted in Hell... now I have heard everything.

Satan: And finally... Door #3. The door where you have the trip of a lifetime... because it IS your lifetime!

~The door swings open, and it, well, sounds normal. There's not much distinguishing it from any other door you've ever opened. Vaughn immediately seems interested, stepping forward.~

Satan: Of course, that also means going back to the real world... where there are real life decisions to be made, and real life consequences from those decisions. Sounds like too much anxiety to me, but what do I know? I'm only the King of the Underworld, The Prince of Darkness, and the Chief Balloon Maker!

~Everyone turns towards Satan, who smiles again.~

Satan: That's right, I make fabulous balloons! Stop being jealous!

~Vaughn stares at the third door, looking slightly hesitant. He looks back at the Master Cleaner, Salvaje, and The Janitor, considering them. The Janitor just gives him a sad smile, nodding to him.~

The Janitor: Time to face what you've done, Peter.

Satan: I mean... he doesn't HAVE to...

~But Vaughn is already moving, grabbing the doorknob. He swings the door wide open, seeing the brightness outside. It's almost too much, but Vaughn's never been one to back away. He jumps forward, into the light...~

---

~... and wakes up in the hospital bed, looking around in complete confusion at what's going on. The doctors are checking him over, with one shining a bright light into his eye. Anyone who's experienced this knows how annoying that can be.~

Doctor: How are you feeling?

Peter Vaughn: What's going on?

~The door opens, and Thomas Hill, Chris Page, and Detective Black come into the room, as one of the doctors clears out to make some space.~

Thomas Hill: Peter! You're back with us!

Peter Vaughn: Was... was I shot?

Detective Black: Well, Yes and No...

~The detective begins to explain, as Thomas steps back, just relieved that Vaughn is conscious again. Page has already turned around and gotten back on his phone, presumably telling the replacement he was getting lined up that they are no longer needed. It seems to be a happy ending, of sorts, although Vaughn still looks very confused at all that's happened in only a limited amount of time. We slowly drop away.~

---

Looks like that about does it, Ails. I'll be out of this hospital soon enough. I'm sure they'll clear me. The XWF has pretty deep pockets. So I'll be there for our Ascent Into Madness. There's really not that much more to say, is there?

You say you're going to beat the hell out of me. I say I'm going to break you and leave you worse off then you've been in quite some time.

You say you're going to become the champion again. I say you're only going to try and fail, coming to the end of your comeback in a brutal fashion.

You say you're not scared of anything I might be bringing to the table. I say you're nothing but a fool if you're coming into this without a single plan in place.

You say you're going to eat me... well, I'm going to hope this isn't the case, but even if you do rip off a chunk, that'll be the only tasty thing you have down your gullet before I break your jaw.

End all, be all, this could really be the most intense, magnificent match in XWF history, Ails. You sound like you're going to be bringing your A game. I'm coming with my A+++, which is the only way I compete. This may be the only time where the "upset" is due to the champion beating the contender, but I'm looking forward to showing the world that I am, indeed, better than ALIAS. Everyone who's been doubting me going into this contest? I hope your eyes have been opened to the greatness of Peter Vaughn.

And if not, be sure to tune in Sunday, and we'll blow your mind.

All that's left to say, Ails, is the tried and true: Prepare yourself for the Plunge, and maybe something new.

---

~We return one more time to the world, where we see Peter Vaughn sitting in his hospital bed. He pulls over his VR unit, pressing the button on the side as he places the helmet onto his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Link Start.

~Vaughn's personal gear has been rigged for voice activation, so this time it actually works, sending him streaming into the Virtual Reality of the Coalition. He walks forward in the world, looking around. A second later, a figure appears in front of him.~

Master Cleaner: Peter. I wasn't expecting to see you today. We have been keeping track of your progress.

Peter Vaughn: I heard an ambulance was picking me up minutes after I was shot. I assumed you guys had something to do with it.

Master Cleaner: You think those contacts we've given you are just for bringing out the color in your eyes? They immediately alerted us to something life-threatening happening to you. You're a member of our society, Peter. We take care of our own.

~Vaughn lowers his head for a moment, then raises back up to meet the Master Cleaner in the eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: About that. I think we need to have a talk about some... important things that have come up.

~The Master Cleaner waits patiently as Vaughn begins to explain about what happened in El Paso. We slowly fade out, leaving the scene behind.~