Over the last month, Peter Vaughn has been interacting with a secret society that appears to lurk behind the janitorial divisions of many of the world's largest businesses: the Custodial Coalition. Vaughn used his knowledge of the Coalition to demand an introduction to their leader, a man known only as The Master Cleaner. The individual, only able to be seen through a virtual reality system, offered Vaughn a challenge: survive a virtual story and earn a place at the table.
Despite some tremendous difficulties, some of which were self-inflicted, Vaughn still found a way to succeed, fighting his way through fire and ice to make it to the end of the saga. Due to this, the Master Cleaner has invited Vaughn into the Coalition, presumably high up on the board. The details, however, are still a little murky. In the meantime, Vaughn has been having the run of his lifetime, winning three championships at once. Now, with numerous targets lined up on his back, Vaughn is seeking to use his new-found position to his best advantage: which includes finding out what his business manager, Jonathan Barrows, has been plotting behind Vaughn's back.
~The picture begins to come up on the main four-story building used by Pryde Industries. The sun appears to be low in the sky as we approach the building. The camera swings towards the front door, as a familiar tune begins to play through your speakers.~
~As the tune from Mission Impossible continues to play, the camera moves fluidly through the building, without cutting away. It moves past a security checkpoint, with the guards there watching for anyone who shouldn't be there this late in the day. They're checking IDs of some individuals, but they pay no attention to the camera. The shot moves on, headed towards the elevator. It goes inside, facing the doors. The Mission Impossible tune changes slightly, sounding a little bit more like elevator muzak for a few moments. Eventually, the doors open again, showing us a group of people waiting to get on. One of these people is Jonathan Barrows, looking impatient at having to wait. The camera moves around him, circling him for a second, before stepping to the side. Barrows gets on the elevator, looking out for a second just before the doors shut. The camera then moves down towards his office, but stops short of it, slipping to the side where an unmarked broom closet is waiting. The door opens... and we see Peter Vaughn leaning against the other side, looking extremely bored.~
Peter Vaughn: About damn time. Is he gone?
~The camera shifts to the side, suddenly revealing that we've been following the path of the Head Custodian. He nods.~
Head Custodian: Mr. Barrows just left. His office is now fully available to us.
~The Head Custodian gestures to Vaughn, directing him over to the office. Vaughn sighs and slowly walks that way. At the office door, Vaughn stops, testing the knob. Of course, it's locked, but also of course, the custodian has the master keys. He unlocks it, swinging the door open for Vaughn. He sighs again and walks in, looking at the computer stationed on the nearby desk. He walks over to it, moving the mouse to bring the screen back on. We see a password protected screen. Vaughn looks back to the Head Custodian, who hands him a piece of paper with the words "Zybala2022" written on it. Vaughn shakes his head and enters the password, bringing the screen up.~
Head Custodian: Use this flash drive, it will automatically transfer the contents of Mr. Barrows' computer so that we can study it at length.
~The Head Custodian offers the USB flash drive to Vaughn, who doesn't take it right away. Confused, the Head Custodian places it on the desk in front of Vaughn, waiting.~
Head Custodian: Is there something wrong? We shouldn't waste time here.
Peter Vaughn: I... no, I guess there's nothing wrong.
~Vaughn reluctantly takes the flash drive and plugs it in. True to its software, it immediately begins loading the contents of the hard drive onto it, zipping some of the files up for easier containment. Vaughn just watches it work, looking depressed.~
Head Custodian: Are you thinking about what your former friend Mr. Barrows would think of you for doing this? He'll never know, I guarantee it.
Peter Vaughn: Nah, it's not that. It's just... it would have been so much cooler had I gotten lowered from the ceiling through one of the vents.
Head Custodian: But, there was no need, my friend. We had all the access you could want...
Peter Vaughn: And, I mean, I could have gotten to wear a cool skintight mask, maybe something that made me look like Jonathan. That would have been awesome.
Head Custodian: We have disabled all of the cameras, they are currently recording a loop for the next 10 minutes. A mask would be prohibitively expensive.
Peter Vaughn: Plus there wasn't even a female superspy to seduce...
~On that part, the Head Custodian has no response. It's quiet in the room for a few moments, before the flash drive sounds with a ding that its mission is completed. Vaughn starts to reach for the drive, but the Head Custodian clears his throat. After a second, Vaughn sighs again and goes to the computer, choosing the "Safely Remove Hardware" option. Once it tells him he can remove the flash drive, he does so. The Head Custodian nods approvingly at this safe method of getting the data.~
Peter Vaughn: This is the most boring episode of Mission Impossible I've ever seen.
Head Custodian: The true sign of a successful operation like this, Peter, is that no one ever knows that anything was amiss.
Peter Vaughn: Yeah... but there are so many cooler ways to do it.
Head Custodian: Look... do you want me to open the window over there so you can parachute out to the adjourning building?
Peter Vaughn: Huh? That's possible?? Do you really have parachutes??
Head Custodian: No, of course not. Go back to the hidden stairwell. They'll meet you downstairs.
Peter Vaughn: ... Damn it.
~Vaughn stomps out of the room, upset at the denial. The Head Custodian can't stop from laughing to himself for a moment before following. They head inside the broom closet from earlier, with Vaughn pulling on one of the back Windex bottles. A secret passageway opens up, leading to a hidden stairwell.~
Peter Vaughn: At least that's something... but damn, the parachute idea would have been an incredible finish to the mission.
~Vaughn and the Head Custodian disappear from view, as the passageway closes behind them.~
Do you ever wonder if it's too much damn work to get respect?
I mean, look at me. I came into the XWF as an unbeaten World Champion at another fed, only to immediately get put against a literal gorilla. I had to basically claw my way up from the bottom to show people I deserved the Universal Title shot I earned. I took down Drew Archyle at Bad Medicine, but everyone gave Xavier Lux all the credit. I defeated Barney Green, and all I hear is "He wasn't at his best." Then I go into Fire & Ice with everything on the line, my Exiles in danger of being drowned in blue goo, and I destroy Jim Caedus to take my spot at the head of the table. And what do I hear? "Oh, but Alias is coming for you, so none of it matters."
So I put it out there that I'm ready to prove myself once more. Even though I shouldn't have to offer more now that I'm the champion, I still want that pivotal fifth win. I want to make everyone believe that I'm truly a fighting champion who never backs down. And what does the front office do? They give me Tommy Wish.
Tommy.
Wish.
Could there be a more disrespectful opponent for me to be fighting? They couldn't keep little Oliver Main on the payroll? Or give me that new kid that's stirring things up, Rayman or whatever his name is? Was a hamster in an inflatable beach ball unavailable? Because that'd at least be memorable.
Okay, okay, so let's talk about you, Tommy. So far, you haven't exactly set the world on fire, have you? You went out and got your ass handed to you by Jason Cashe. You got squashed by Jay Omega. Your tag-team hopes went up in smokeless embers when The Money Titans beat you down. It's been one slaughter after another. Oh, but wait... you've got a win! You beat... Latin Submission Machina.
... Eh, who am I to take away small victories? Good job, old man. You haven't been completely shut out.
But it's not enough, Tommy. If you so much as hold your own against me, that's a mark against the champion. If I don't crush your windpipe as fast as possible, they'll bring up this match again and again. So I'm afraid I can't come into this competition with a soft spot for the aging veteran so-called rapper with decaying skills. I'm going to have to bring the fire right from the beginning, and show the world once again that Peter Vaughn, the multi-time World Champion, doesn't back down no matter how lame his opponent is.
Quite simply, Tommy, even if this was a Children's Miracle Network wish for you to last 10 minutes with me, I couldn't comply. That kid (probably suffering from a mental condition) would be sorely disappointed in me. But I've gotta have the respect as the champion, or else chaos reigns, and I'm not going to let that happen. Not during my run at the top.
~There's a shower of sparks across the screen, like a fuse box exploding. When the sparks fade, we find Peter Vaughn standing in the middle of what appears to be a cemetery. He is wearing his usual wrestling garb, but is holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. He steps forward towards a large gravestone, taking a moment to bow before it. He sets the flowers next to it, then stands up and begins pouring the entire bottle's contents onto the ground below. Once the vessel is empty, Vaughn chucks it into the gravestone, shattering it. The bottle, not the gravestone. The camera pans around Vaughn to show what's written on the marker in four giant letters: APEX. There appears to be pictures of every member of the stable carved into the stone. Vaughn stares at them, unable to keep a small smirk from appearing on his face. He turns to depart... then jumps back as a large man is now standing behind him.~
Peter Vaughn: Geez! Just because you can pop out of nowhere to your heart's content, it doesn't mean you shouldn't announce yourself somehow, Master!
~The Master Cleaner, head of the Custodial Coalition, looks around with a stern look on his face. Vaughn, realizing what he's studying, raises his hands.~
Peter Vaughn: Before you say anything, yes, I know it's a little unorthodox, but I figured it'd be a good way to cement my feelings for these guys into the past where they belong...
Master Cleaner: Peter, you know when you were given access to the controls here, it did not mean you could use this for your own personal amusement.
~The Master waves his hand in front of him, initiating a sequence. Immediately, the graveyard and surrounding area begin to disappear. In case it hasn't become clear, Vaughn is actually back in virtual reality at this time. It's unknown where he's jacked in, as he's earned new privileges due to events that transpired before XWF Fire & Ice. Those privileges, however, now appear to be in a bit of danger, as the Master does not appear to be in a good mood.~
Peter Vaughn: Is this really worth stressing out about? You gave me access to this system, and if I'm going to be able to utilize it to its fullest extent, I'm going to need to continue practicing. I'm getting much better at it. You should have seen the monkey that was going to appear shortly and smash a banana into the tombstone...
~The world has now become an empty, white void, leaving just Peter and the Master Cleaner standing there. He slowly lowers his head.~
Master Cleaner: I get that you're feeling the rush of success after success lately. Defeating the program's Story Progression test is no mean feat, and you've done well in the real world as well.
Peter Vaughn: That's an understatement. Just in the last few weeks, I've chalked up wins over Dickie Watson, Mason Jones, El Diablo Blanco, Jim Caedus, and Supreme Machine. Really, compared to all those names, Tommy Wish is, well, kind of an insult.
Master Cleaner: Tommy who?
Peter Vaughn: You wouldn't know him.
Master Cleaner: I see. Let's put all that aside for now. We need to talk about what brings you here today.
~The Master waves his hand again, and a table and two chairs come sliding into view. As if this is an everyday occurrence, Vaughn immediately takes a seat on his side of the table, while the Master regally sits on the other side.~
Peter Vaughn: It's pretty simple, really, Master. I've gotten the data off of Jonathan Barrows' hard drive, but I'm not sure it will be enough for me to discover all of his plans. What I'm going to need is full access to assign as many custodial resources as possible to tail Jonathan 24 hours a day. We'll also need to get someone inside his house, maybe set up some wireless camera feeds...
Master Cleaner: Interesting. We gave you what you wanted, and now you want more.
Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean... when you put it that way...
Master Cleaner: And yet you've failed to do a single thing with the responsibilities now on your plate as a member of the Council of the Custodial Coalition. Well, other than playing with the virtual burial of your supposed enemies...
Peter Vaughn: Hey now, did you see the detail on that tombstone? I worked hard on that!
Master Cleaner: It's time, Peter, that you take a more active role in your new position.
~Vaughn sighs, shaking his head. But he knows that he can't keep asking for freebies without doing something in return.~
Peter Vaughn: Fine. How much paperwork do you need me to do? I'm not a great typist but I can handle my way around an Excel spreadsheet.
Master Cleaner: You truly think that we brought you on with us to do a bit of accounting?
Peter Vaughn: ... No?
~The Master Cleaner smiles, before waving his hand in the air again. This time, two files come flying in from out of nowhere, moving like they have minds of their own. They flop in front of Vaughn, each displaying the picture of a janitorial attendant on top of the cover. Vaughn, intrigued, looks at the files.~
Peter Vaughn: Okay... what is this? Guys you're wanting to hire? Don't tell me you're going to test them too?
Master Cleaner: No, Peter. These were two men who were dedicated to our cause, the rights of custodians everywhere. They are also two men who have disappeared without a trace.
Peter Vaughn: Hmmm, intriguing. So where have they vanished from? Dallas?
Master Cleaner: Afraid not. It's actually a good deal to the south from your home. We lost contact with both men while they were infiltrating a dangerous element... in El Paso.
~Somehow, even in a virtual reality, you can see the blood draining out from Peter Vaughn's face as the mention of this city.~
Peter Vaughn: No... no... not El Paso... anywhere but El Paso!!
Master Cleaner: I share your feelings on this, Peter. El Paso is likely the worst city in the world for a custodian to go to. But we have two brave men missing in action, and someone has to go in after them.
Peter Vaughn: El Paso... God help me...
~Vaughn slumps in his chair, forcing himself to stare at the two pictures in front of him, as if to try and gain some strength. The camera slowly zooms in on the photos... heading straight into the background of one as the picture begins to fade out.~
It's all about the choices you make that decide where you're going to go in life.
I could have sat at home with a guaranteed XWF Universal Title shot and banked completely on that, but I didn't. I went and won the first TPW International Title, and I worked through another tournament to become the Pro Wrestling Valor World Champion. I could have backed off and said "I've won the titles and made my name, so it doesn't matter anymore". But instead I'm defending every belt against the toughest foes imaginable. I could have decided to stick with what was working and keep doing things solo, but I chose to join CCPE, the hottest agency in the business. I've made my choices, and I haven't regretted a single one of them.
How about you, Tommy? Can you say the same? Do you regret coming to the XWF yet, or is the money enough to justify the beatings you're taking? I have some old friends who are doing similarly in other feds, willing to take a kendo stick to the head or get powerbombed through a table in order to put some food on the table. Maybe that's your driving motivation. I honestly have no clue.
To be perfectly frank, Tommy, until this match was announced, I didn't care a damn bit about you. I barely registered that you were on the roster. But someone up there decided that you and I should meet in the squared circle. They made a deliberate choice to put you in danger from the hottest wrestler in the world right now. That may be a choice that someone regrets if you don't make it out of this one. Sure, it's not a hardcore match. The rules will apply, which is the first time in a while I can say that about one of my fights.
But we've got 10 seconds outside the ring, where all sorts of blunt and sharp instruments can be found. We've got 5 seconds to choke someone out or twist them into pretzels. And if something just happens to take down our referee, well then, the door is wide open, Tommy. From the brief knowledge I've been told about you in the last 24 hours, that might be something you enjoy. It might not.
What matters at this point is you've got your own choice to make. Do you show up? Or do you stay at home? I'm good either way, Tommy. You make the choice that's best for what's left of your career.
~The video comes up at the El Paso International Airport. We see Peter Vaughn having made his way through the security checkpoints as he is headed towards the exit. He's looking around with suspicious eyes, expecting something to come rushing his way at any second. As Peter pushes the door open, getting outside, he notices a car parked nearby in the loading lanes. A man is there, holding up a sign that says "Vaugh". Peter sighs, but he's used to the "n" getting left off of his name at this point. He walks over.~
Peter Vaughn: I'm Peter Vaughn.
Roger Simpson: Oh, hello, Mr. Vaughn! I'm Roger. I'm here to take you to your hotel.
~The two exchange a slightly complicated-looking handshake that is only known by those in the Custodial Coalition. Vaughn nods, accepting that Roger is who he says he is. Roger opens the back door, but Vaughn is already stepping around him, getting in the front passenger side. Roger shrugs, tosses Vaughn's duffel bag into the back, and shuts the door. He goes around to the driver's side, and soon the two are headed off into downtown El Paso. Vaughn is looking out the window, still on high alert.~
Roger Simpson: How was your flight, Mr. Vaughn? You seem... a little on edge.
Peter Vaughn: I've, uh... had some bad experiences in El Paso. It's not a city I wanted to come back to.
Roger Simpson: Oh, I see. We have had our share of gang violence here, but it's been better in the last few years.
~Vaughn doesn't say a word in response, as he's still focused outside the vehicle. Roger clears his throat and tries again.~
Roger Simpson: So, since you were briefed, we've actually found that a third custodian has gone missing. She worked at the Wells Fargo Plaza building, but has not reported into work for two days now. A check of her living quarters revealed nothing, as the bed was made and every indication was there that she had planned to return when she vanished.
Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. And the other two custodians disappeared from different buildings, right?
Roger Simpson: That's correct. Three janitors, three buildings, and no clues at the moment. Of course, the police are playing it up like it's nothing.
Peter Vaughn: Of course they are. It's El Paso, after all.
~Roger drives on, while giving Vaughn a side glance, studying him. You can almost feel him weighing the pros and cons of asking about Vaughn's apparent hatred of El Paso, but he opts to just keep driving.~
Roger Simpson: The updated files are in the folder to your left, if you want to read them.
~Vaughn makes no motion towards the folder, instead deep in thought. He turns towards Roger.~
Peter Vaughn: So you and the Coalition have gone to a great deal of expense and time to get me out here to El Paso. So I'm here. Now I'd kinda like to know why.
Roger Simpson: Why? I thought... the missing custodians...
Peter Vaughn: Yeah, yeah, and I feel bad for them and all...
~It doesn't sound like Vaughn cares, but Roger lets that slide for now.~
Peter Vaughn: But that doesn't change the question of why me? I'm no detective. I'm not a superspy, although with a few amazing gadgets I could get there, I'm sure. But mainly, I'm just a hell of a fighter, a champion, who can also clean up after a Big Bifford Buffet in 20 minutes flat. How does that qualify me for tracking down missing persons or investigating crime scenes?
~Roger drives on for a few quiet seconds, as Vaughn looks over at him. A slow smile begins to form on his face.~
Roger Simpson: But Mr. Vaughn... that's exactly why we brought you here to El Paso: because of who you are.
~The car drives on, with Vaughn seemingly considering jumping out after that response. He doesn't, though... because then he'd be on foot... in El Paso.~
There was a time when it wasn't known as a great fighter. That time has long since passed.
I get it. People still look at me and what I wear to the ring and think, he's not an actual wrestler. He's a clown, a joke, a Wish. But I hope some of them have changed their tunes as of late. That should realize that whether I'm joined by the Exiles or CCPE in the XWF or TPW, or fighting on my own like I did in the Roth Invitational, I'm a threat to take it all the way. I've had a decade of experience in the ring. I've expanded my repertoire every year, adding more and more maneuvers to my inventory. The Plunge is still the most devastating move in my arsenal, but Revenged and the Keyholder have been getting me victories now, and The Purge is getting closer and closer to being a move I can break out against an opponent.
Would you want to be the first, Tommy? Yeah, you're right, it'd probably be a waste, I should save it for a bigger match.
So what should I be concerned about from you? Let's see... the Fetish Lock? ... You've got a thing for feet. I see. Well, my shoes are staying on, so you can forget about that. I'll make sure to double-knot them just in case. I've wrestled a lot of guys and ladies who have used the ankle lock as one of their finishers. I'll admit, if you can get the grapevine locked in, it's a tough move to escape. That's why I'd never let you get it locked in. There are about 50 ways to reverse that hold, and I know all of them. Wait... I just thought of another. 51.
I know, Tommy, I know. You probably think I'm going to underestimate you the way I keep going on about your age and your lack of skills. It's actually a unique position for me. I'm usually the one being underestimated. So I suppose I should sympathize with you. But don't you worry. I'm still studying the recordings, looking at all your recent matches. Even the one with Cashe. I'm still putting in the time to train up for what you're bringing to the table, weak sauce or not. I'm not going to let my current run take a fatal hit by cratering to a low-carder like yourself.
When I'm done with my preparations, there won't be a trick I don't know about you. Honestly, your best bet is to just come down and swing at me with that kendo stick of yours. I may even let you hit me once, just to end this farce and allow you to leave with some dignity. Or I might take that kendo stick and snap it around your neck. I may be able to predict what you'll do, but me? I never know for sure.
All I can guarantee is that in the end, I'm winning, and you're taking another loss. The way we get there is completely up to you.
~The shot comes up on a darkened room, probably in a basement judging from the lack of sunlight. We see four men centered around a table, playing some cards. From the look of things, they're not playing bridge, unless it's a special version with bets being placed on it. As the first man begins to lay down his cards with a smile, there's the sound of a smash from outside. All four men jump up, concerned, reaching for their weapons, which appear to be different tools, including a wrench, a hammer, and a plunger; pretty much anything that is close by them. They turn as the guardian at the door comes flopping through the entryway, collapsing to the ground. He's been knocked unconscious. Standing behind him, wearing his usual fighting gear, is Peter Vaughn. He smiles at the four men, ignoring their weaponry.~
Peter Vaughn: About time I found you guys. The name's "The Mechanic" Peter Vaughn. I hear you're members of the Maintenance Mafia. I'm looking to sign up.
~Vaughn steps forward, with all four men appearing to debate between assaulting him and welcoming him. The picture slowly fades out.~
CWF Paramount Champion
GCWA Hardcore Champion
Outsiders Champion (x3)
OCW Craze Champion
OCW World Champion
TPW International Champion (First-Ever) (x2)
PW Valor World Heavyweight Champion
XWF Universal Champion
Level Up Game Genie Winner
XWF Supercontinental Champion