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Peter Vaughn · (02-06-2023)

The Road So Far:

Leopards, Vultures, & Monkeys: A Zoological Mystery

~The picture comes up on the shot of a spider web, glittering in the light. A spider slowly makes its way across, seeing a fly trapped in the web up ahead. The fly desperately tries to get free, knowing its fate, as the spider comes closer... closer... and then...

The web is broken by the sweep of a human hand, sending the spider plunging to the floor and the fly happily buzzing away. The camera zooms out, showing the disgusted face of Peter Vaughn. He shakes as much of the web off as he can, before looking around.~

Peter Vaughn: Very disappointing. I'll have to talk to the zoo custodians, find out why they never clean in here. But at least it gives me some clear evidence to work with.

~Vaughn takes a knee, staring at the footprints that cut across the dusty room, right to a door that leads to the bird habitat... including the rare vulture that died mysteriously just recently. Vaughn takes a couple of photos of the prints, then gets to his feet, sighing.~

Peter Vaughn: Of course, what am I supposed to do with these? It's not like we have a CSI unit working for us.

~Vaughn thinks about it for a second, then pulls out his phone and sends a text to Bill Sykes, asking if they have a CSI Unit working for them. After a few seconds, Bill texts back that no, they don't. Vaughn shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I didn't think so.

~Vaughn turns and walks out of the room, back into the fading sunlight of the day. Standing outside, waiting for him, is a police officer, with his arms crossed.~

Police Officer: Is there a reason you're traipsing freely around our crime scene, son?

Peter Vaughn: Well, for one, is it still a crime scene? Didn't you catch somebody?

Police Officer: That we did, and we're pretty sure he's our man. But that doesn't mean he didn't have accomplices, does it, Mister...

Peter Vaughn: Vaughn. Peter Vaughn. I was asked to take a look around by one of the zoohandlers here, a Wayne... something. Uh... Anal-us, I think?

Police Officer: You mean Waylon Anilius?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. Him.

Police Officer: I know him, but he doesn't have any authority over our investigation. So if I were you, I'd go enjoy the exhibits and leave this stuff to the professionals.

Peter Vaughn: You know what, officer? That's a really good idea. See ya.

~Vaughn walks away from the grumbling officer, looking annoyed himself. Still, he resisted the urge to punch him in the face & face legal issues like Calypso, so there's that. As Vaughn moves towards the exit, his phone suddenly dings again. He takes it out, expecting a message from Bill... instead, it reads:~

Text: To Find The Truth, One Must Follow The Scales.

~Vaughn just stares at the phone for a second before responding.~

Peter Vaughn Text: That... Makes... No... Sense.

~Vaughn waits, and after a minute goes by, there's finally another response.~

Text: Just come to 5200 E Grand Ave.

Peter Vaughn Text: Better. On my way.

~After putting away the phone, Vaughn heads for his truck, dusting off a bit more web that had apparently fallen on his shoulder. It floats off in the breeze, as we head out.~

They say sometimes you're the spider, and sometimes you're the fly.

Personally, I'd rather just stay the hawk who doesn't give a shit about that pesky web. It's better just to fly all above that nonsense.

Of course, I can't help but be dragged back down when I face someone like Calypso. I mean, have you ever seen a more useless wrestler than him? He finds out that he's going to be wrestling me, and he immediately wrecks his car and puts himself in the hospital so that he has an excuse for why he loses. I mean, I admire the effort, as well as putting yourself in legally deep waters, but if you want to forfeit, just say so. It'd be a perfectly better ending for you.

I couldn't help but laugh at the focus of ol' Calpy's mouth, really. He wants to really bash me on my leadership skills. Well, you know what, Cal, I'm not going to disagree with you. I didn't want to be the Head Custodian, but I've done my best with a bad situation, and personally, I think I've done quite well, considering the Maintenance Mafia got wiped out under my reign. But I would never call myself a good leader.

I'm not the type that wants to be in charge, after all. I just want to be the one getting blood on my fingers from all the punishment I'm dishing out.

And that's the real problem here, isn't it, Calpy? Leadership has nothing to do with our opening round March Madness match. Neither one of us is going to be giving or following orders. What matters is who can knock the other unconscious, and as we know from multiple encounters, Cal, you're the one who can't do it alone. I've left you beaten and broken twice in a row in singles matches, and that dominating number goes to three after Saturday.

It really sucks that this does nothing for my record, because a major goal of going into the March Madness Tournament was to change some people's minds about the talent that I'm bringing to the table. I want them talking about me, believing in me, as well as being incredibly jealous of me. But how am I going to get that reaction facing a complete train wreck of a wrestler?

When I win, they're just going to say "Of course you won. It was Calypso. He sucks." I mean, I get absolutely nothing out of this.

Well, okay, that's not entirely true. I still enjoy making you scream in agony, Cal, I can't deny that. I'll take what enjoyment I can out of this situation. But damn, I wish I was fighting anyone other than you. You may get excited to get another chance against me, but you're going to be the only one in the building. Hell, I bet the audience will be bored, as even they're not stupid enough to believe that you have a chance in hell against me.

On the list of the 32 contenders, you're probably right below Vagabond and right above Grayson, near the bottom of the list. You aren't winning the March Madness Tournament, Calpy. You won't even come close. And in your heart, even if you try to hide it, you know it's true.

You're useless, Cal. You shouldn't even be on the XWF roster. You shouldn't be wrestling anywhere.

So once I defeat you for the third and final time, would you just go away? Go open that comic book shop you always wanted, or try and write your autobiography about how everything in your world is god-awful and desperately needing the hero that you'll never be.

I'm done with you, Cal. This is your final Plunge.

~We find ourselves outside of a large warehouse, as Peter Vaughn walks up to the doorway. The door is slightly ajar, so Vaughn fearlessly kicks at it, knocking it open. A spray comes down from above, splashing on the ground, but since Vaughn didn't go in yet, it just splatters on the ground. Vaughn looks at it, smirking at the childish 'prank'.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously? What is this, Home Alone or something?

~Vaughn steps over the liquid, not even caring what it is, and starts inside. A few steps in, he deftly maneuvers over an apparent tripwire, which doesn't even look like it's attached to anything dangerous. Vaughn sighs, knowing he's in amateur hour. That's when he hears the screams begin upstairs.~

Peter Vaughn: .... So I guess I'm supposed to be the hero and run up there? Sounds like a dumb idea.

~Instead, Vaughn pulls out his phone and looks to dial 911, only to find that he's got no signal. It appears to be jammed. There's another scream, and Vaughn sighs to himself.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Fine. I've got nothing better to do anyway, other than train for the damn tournament...

~Annoyed, Vaughn heads to the stairway and maneuvers his way up, careful to watch where he steps. He gets to the second floor and walks to where the screams appear to be coming from. The door is open, so Vaughn steps in, stopping as he takes in the strange sight of a woman apparently trapped in a large fish tank.~

Peter Vaughn: There's something you don't see every day...

Woman: GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!! I'M NOT GETTING PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS!!!

~The woman, clearly a call girl of some sort, is banging on the glass, as we can see several snakes slithering around her legs. There's a large lock on the side, covering over a glass doorway. As Vaughn takes it in, there's an evil laugh from his right. Vaughn turns, studying the masked man who's stepped out of the shadows.~

Sinister Serpent: Welcome, Peter Vaughn, welcome to your doom! Sssso ssssaysss the Sssinssster Ssserpent!!! Hah hah hah hah!! You may have sssurvived sssome of the other traps of my fortress, but will you have the intellect and sssavviness to sssave the damsssel in dissstresssss? You have only sssixty sssecondsss before...

~The masked man can't finish, as Vaughn suddenly steps forward, punching away at him with rapid-fire shots!!! The "Serpent" squeals as he's driven into the wall, with Vaughn landing several more blows, smashing away at the man's ribs!! He falls to the side, gasping for air, as Vaughn pulls out a wrench from his pocket. He launches it straight into the glass fish tank, shattering one side of it!!! The woman shrieks, ducking away, but then realizes she can get out, jumping over the snakes. She runs up to Vaughn, but doesn't hug him on account that he looks extremely pissed. Instead, she turns back to the downed villain.~

Woman: I'm keeping your deposit, asshole!

~The woman then lashes out with her high heels, scoring a shot straight between the goalposts!!! The man groans and rolls over, curling up into a fetal position. The woman storms off, as Vaughn reaches down and yanks the mask off, ripping it apart.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah. I figured it'd be you, Wayne.

Waylon Anilius: It's..... it's... WAYLON!!!

~Waylon tries to get up, but Vaughn quickly knees him in the face, knocking him into the wall. Vaughn then grabs hold and drops him with the Keyholder!!! Waylon lays on the ground, barely conscious, as Vaughn leans over him.~

Peter Vaughn: You seriously wasted my time with this supervillain BULLSHIT?? You think I'm like Calypso, wanting someone to fight in order to improve my shattered ego?? What the fuck is wrong with you guys?? Didn't your mothers raise you right?? Or did they just sit you down in front of the boob tube and leave you to watch Wonder Woman? God, I'm SICK...

~A kick to the side lands.~

Peter Vaughn: And TIRED...

~Another kick.~

Peter Vaughn: ... of CRAP like THIS!!!

~Vaughn, breathing heavily, finally leans down, grabbing hold of Waylon's head to drag him up closer to him.~

Peter Vaughn: Life... isn't... a comic book, you piece of excrement. Tell your friends... to leave me the hell alone. Got it??

~Waylon can't even answer, squirming like a worm. Vaughn turns and stomps away. leaving Waylon lying on the ground, gasping. The snakes, released from the glass case, start to move around him. Only experts will know which, if any, of these snakes are poisonous. Waylon seems to reach out for a second, stretching towards his ripped-up Serpent mask, before passing out, as the snakes crawl on him for warmth. We fade out.~

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