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James Raven · (07-27-2019)

The air is thick with smog as the cinderblock wall crumbles, raining debris down upon the concrete floors and sending plumes of dust cascading down the narrow corridor. Two men stand hidden in the shadows, large automatic machine guns balanced carefully on their shoulders. They look powerful. They look heroic. To put it in layman's terms they look badass as shit.

One of the two men steps through the smoke and climbs atop the rubble, his chiseled features and panty wetting grin becoming clear for the first time.

JAMES RAVEN: What were you saying about the wall being impenetrable, Drew?

The second man follows him through the gaping hole in the wall and climbs to the top of the rubble, hair messy but still sexy to Angie Vaughn in ways that she’ll never admit. He shrugs his shoulders.

DREW ARCHYLE: I stand corrected. What did you use to do that though? That blast was horrifically dangerous.

JAMES RAVEN: Peter Gilmours most recent promo, the biggest bomb known to man.

Drew offers a half hearted smile to his comrade.

DREW ARCHYLE: No, but really. What did you use to blow up the wall?

JAMES RAVEN: Oh, dynamite. I used dynamite.

DREW ARCHYLE: Cool cool cool.

The two men climb down from the heap of debris and into the narrow corridor, looking up and down the hall before Raven rolls up his sleeve and looks at a set of directions written on his forearm in sharpie. Drew looks enraged, drilling James in the shoulder with a heavy right hand that nearly makes Raven drop his machine gun.

DREW ARCHYLE: I thought you said you knew where you were going!

JAMES RAVEN: I do! Mostly.

DREW ARCHYLE: Mostly?! There was no mostly when you roped me into this! You were very clear, emphatic even, that you knew where you were going and this was going to be a relatively simple job.

Raven shakes his head dismissively, face screwed up comically.

JAMES RAVEN: It’s funny because that’s not how I remember the conversation AT ALL!

Raven double checks the drawing on his arm and then looks down the south wing of the hall and nods his head in confirmation.

JAMES RAVEN: Yup. This way.

He strolls off confidently leaving Drew no choice but to follow him. Drew questions Raven several more times about their direction, but James begins to whistle “I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry and eventually (with the help of their loud and echoing footsteps) manages to drown out any protests. Drew gives up and blindly follows Raven, which to be fair is what he’s much better suited doing anyways, while admiring the cool machine gun he gets to hold. He’s not usually big on guns, but James decorated his with a bunch of cool cat stickers and micro text on the chrome plating that tells you how to make a really wicked zucchini pasta, so he was enjoying it.

JAMES RAVEN: Hang on, we’re here…

Drew looks up and realizes they’re about fifteen yards away from a small archway. From their vantage point he can see what looks like a large warehouse, metal shelving units as far as the eye can see with unmarked wooden crates piled atop them. Raven makes his way to the arch and motions for Drew to follow.

DREW ARCHYLE: Whoa, it’s like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark…

JAMES RAVEN: I think that’s where Shane got the idea.

DREW ARCHYLE: Wait,

built this place?

JAMES RAVEN: No, he was just an interior decorator.

Drew nods. That makes sense. Shane

always had an eye for decor, and his choice in paint schemes was always top notch. The duo make their way into the warehouse together and Drew immediately separates from James and makes his way to a stack of wooden crates.

DREW ARCHYLE: So what exactly is this place? What’s in these crates?

JAMES RAVEN: I don’t think it has a name, but it’s where XWF management has always stored items of great power and great danger that they don’t want to see fall into the wrong hands.

DREW ARCHYLE: There’s a label on this one; “Cyrens whiskey”. What’s that mean?

JAMES RAVEN: It means lots of racism and threats of violence along with occasional threats on children, including the unborn.

DREW ARCHYLE: Zombie babies?!

JAMES RAVEN: That’s undead. I said unborn.

Drew nods his head in understanding even though he doesn’t totally understand, and tries to hide a violent shudder that runs up his spine.

DREW ARCHYLE: … zombie babies…

Drew makes his way down the shelving unit studying the exteriors of several crates.

DREW ARCHYLE: A lot of these have labels. “Caedus Files”. What’s that?

JAMES RAVEN: Documents proving that The Engineer, Dolly Waters, Michael Graves and Jim from The Office are all the same person.

DREW ARCHYLE: Jim was right?!

JAMES RAVEN: That’s what those files say.

Drew looks at James in disbelief, then continues to read the labels of several crates aloud.

DREW ARCHYLE: “Essence of Lacklan”? “Bruce Blingsteens Penis”? “Rain”? What are all of these?

JAMES RAVEN: Essence of Lacklan is a synthetic ego so powerful it has its own gravitational pull.

DREW ARCHYLE: Synthetic… ego?

JAMES RAVEN: Bruce Blingsteens penis seems pretty self explanatory, honestly, but if you need me to spell it out… Bruce became Brucette… and

kept it.

Drew dry heaves several times, but Raven continues.

JAMES RAVEN: And Rain… well… he’s banned, OK…

The crate labeled “Rain” suddenly shakes on its shelf and a muffled voice can be heard from within its confines.

“RAIN”: Let me out! Just for a day! I want to ask everyone their opinions on a celebrity best friend tag team tournament!

Drew points at the crate.

DREW ARCHYLE: This one I agree with. This one should be locked up. James, how long have you known about this place?

JAMES RAVEN: Since I bought into the XWF ownership earlier this year. Vinnie Lane gave me a rundown on what was in here, and Theo Pryce had a key delivered to me via Taiwanese hooker.

DREW ARCHYLE: Wait, what?

JAMES RAVEN: I know, I thought it was strange since I know he was in Baltimore at the time but he’s an eccentric guy.

DREW ARCHYLE: No, not that.

JAMES RAVEN: Oh, I said hooker. My bad, he sent a key via Taiwanese prostitute.

DREW ARCHYLE: Not that either! If you had a key why did we blast through the wall?!

Raven eyes Drew incredulously and adjusts his grip on the machine gun.

JAMES RAVEN: Uh, because it was awesome?!

DREW ARCHYLE: This isn’t right James, you should have told Robert and I about this place and all of the stuff that’s in here… I mean this crate says it has “Doc D’villes Schedule”. I want to see that! I want to know how he manages to see so many people but still have his door perpetually open!

JAMES RAVEN: I’m sorry! You’re right, but part of the ownership agreement was keeping this to myself. The only reason we’re here now is to get the ultimate weapon before Chris Page and his minions can get their hands on it. If they get to it first, we can kiss the entire XWF goodbye…

DREW ARCHYLE: What’s the ultimate weapon?

Before Raven can answer gunfire is head from across the facility, ripping apart several of the nearby crates. James and Drew whip their heads around (and hair back and forth) in time to spot two figures sprinting between shelving units and slowly easing towards them.

DREW ARCHYLE: Is that MDK and Bill Blakk?!

JAMES RAVEN: Damn it! Page and his henchmen are here! Move! Move!! MOVE!!!

Raven and Drew charge full blast towards a nearby stack of crates and dive behind them. Raven checks his gun, making sure it’s locked loaded and ready for action. He glances over at Drew and realizes his gun and ammunition strap are completely empty.

JAMES RAVEN: Where the hell are your bullets?

DREW ARCHYLE: I dropped them like a breadcrumb trail. I wasn’t very confident in you navigating us back with that sharpie map on your arm.

Before James can explode at his ally, the crates they’re cowering behind explode in a hail of wooden shrapnel. Raven grabs Archyle by the arm and drags him to another stack of crates a few yards away. Drew catches a glimpse of MDK and Bill Blakk in the distance, and stops for a moment before Raven yanks him to safety.

DREW ARCHYLE: Are they… little people?

JAMES RAVEN: No, of course not. They’re midgets.

MDK and Bill Blakk give up on hiding behind the shelving units and sprint towards the Apex Prophecy members as fast as their tiny little legs will carry them. Now that they’re exposed in the open it’s completely clear that MDK and Bill Blakk are no more than three feet tall, and the majority of that is forehead.

JAMES RAVEN: Ugh, fuck this…

Raven spins out from behind the crates and fires wildly, unleashing a furious assault on the two members of Chris Page’s brotherhood. MDK and Blakk don’t have a prayer as the bullets shred through their flesh and spinter their miniature bones. Raven stands over their bodies as they collapse lifelessly to the floor, screaming in rage like it’s a fucking Rambo movie and pumping round after round into the shetland corpses. Bill Blakk eats nearly two dozen shots to the ribcage, piercing the heart and deflating it like Tristan Slaters television title chances. He turns his focus to MDK and kicks the body to it’s back, pulling the trigger and firing what ammunition he has left into the skull of Danny Tenegra.

DREW ARCHYLE: That all felt very gratuitous.

MDK draws a sudden breath and struggles to sit up.

JAMES RAVEN: This is bad.

DREW ARCHYLE: What the hell?!

JAMES RAVEN: They must have found the crate that had the WGWF rule set in it! All of Page’s guys are unstoppable now! We don’t have a PRAYER of going over! Run!

Raven and Drew take off towards the back of the warehouse and sprint past row after row of shelving units and crates, the rear wall of the building never seeming to get any closer. They run for what feels like an hour. They run without checking behind them to see if MDK and Blakk are giving chase. They run until their heart jackhammers in their chests and their blood pumps like battery acid in their veins. Suddenly Raven stops, noticing something in one of the rows of shelving and backing up for a better look.

JAMES RAVEN: There it is.

Drew looks down the row and sees a crate that’s been knocked from the shelves and broken open, a small object sitting unattended on the floor and giving off a gentle yellow glow.

DREW ARCHYLE: Oh my God… is that?

JAMES RAVEN: Yeah, it is. The ultimate weapon.

DREW ARCHYLE: Shane

’s Golden Potato… I never knew what it did, I just tried to save up 9,999,999 xbux to buy it…

JAMES RAVEN: We all did, buddy.

DREW ARCHYLE: I just couldn’t save that much…

JAMES RAVEN: None of us could, buddy. It’s OK.

DREW ARCHYLE: So that’s the ultimate weapon? What does it do?

Raven can’t get a word in before suddenly Chris Page steps out from behind a shelf, standing behind the golden potato and grinning from ear to ear at the tag team champions.

CHRIS PAGE: It destroys the XWF! That’s what it does! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA- *hackcouchhack*

JAMES RAVEN: Ha! Your biggest weakness! A stoners lungs!

Suddenly the golden potato begins to twitch on the floor, rolling from side to side as Chris Page begins to laugh gleefully once more.

CHRIS PAGE: HA! It’s happening! IT’S HAPPENING! SOON THE XWF WILL BE NOTHING! DESTROYED!

The golden potato stops twitching and begins to vibrate, the intensity picking up until a large crack forms on the side and splits down the side of the potato.

DREW ARCHYLE: Is that potato hatching?! That’s not supposed to happen in any recipe!

A tiny fist punches through the golden exterior of the potato, furry knuckles peeling away the surface to reveal a tiny hobbit like creature inside. Covered in coarse black hairs like the ones found around the asshole of Vinnie Lane and with lips puckered like Thaddeus Dukes when he’s around the nutsack of someone he thinks might want to team up, the monster crawls unsteadily from inside the potato covered in a thick brown sludge. It turns to look at Raven and Drew.

CREATURE: SCCCCCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

DREW ARCHYLE: It’s a baby scatbear! The golden potato was a scatbear egg! It WILL kill the XWF, Page was right!

CREATURE: SCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT!!!

Chris Page laughs maniacally, but suddenly Raven steps forward and fires his machine gun at point blank range and riddles the baby scatbear with bullets. The firing blast goes on for a solid twelve to fifteen seconds, Drew Archyle and Chris Page standing idly by and watching the one sided massacre. Ravens gun clicks, empty, and he proceeds to turn it around and grp the muzzle while using the stock to beat the lifeless scatbear. He tosses the gun aside and stomps the scatbear baby until there’s nothing more than a soft squelch each time he plants his foot.

CHRIS PAGE: Well… god damn it… plan b, I guess.

Drew and Raven look at each other, unsure what to make of Page’s cryptic statement until they suddenly hear what sounds like a tidal wave rushing towards them through the warehouse.

DREW ARCHYLE: What’s that sound?

JAMES RAVEN: He’s flooding us, like he did to Main… it’s… it’s over Drew…

DREW ARCHYLE: Tell Robert I loved him.

JAMES RAVEN: Huh?

Everything gets hazy, everything begins to fade out, everything…

Closeup on Drew Archyles face, eyes closed and lids fluttering gently like a sweet baby angel as he sleeps. The camera pulls out slowly, revealing the tag champion in a hospital bed and hooked up to several monitors, still recovering from the concussion he suffered several weeks ago. James Raven sits at his bedside, reading aloud from the children's classic “The Giving Tree” as Universal champion Robert Main sits on the opposite side of the bed with a cool wash cloth and applies it gently to his friends face.

The door to the hospital room opens slowly and Centurion makes his way into the room, looking at his fellow Apex Prophecy members with concern.

CENTURION: How’s he doing?

JAMES RAVEN: Sleeping, but OK. I think he’s dreaming.

CENTURION: What about, do you think?

ROBERT MAIN: Cats, I hope. Lots and lots of cats.

JAMES RAVEN: Page the nurse, get some food for when he wakes up.

Centurion nods and makes his way to a small intercom and hits the button.

CENTURION: Nurse Ratched? Can you come in here please?

A voice crackles back through the speaker.

NED KAYE: I really wish you guys would stop calling me that.

Fade
To
Black

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