Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Peter Vaughn · (02-18-2023)

The Road So Far:

A Family Long Divided...

~As the picture slowly fades into view, we appear to be in a more rural setting this time. There are a few buildings here and there, but many of them have probably got built soon after the second World War. We head past them quickly, as the camera shifts to show us Peter Vaughn and Thomas Hill sitting in Vaughn's prized truck, which he calls Gabriella. Why does he call it that? We may never know.~

Thomas Hill: Are you sure we're going the right way? I don't need us getting stranded out here.

Peter Vaughn: I have a perfect set of direction, Thomas. Plus, this GPS gadget that the Coalition made me install is saying we're going the right way.

Thomas Hill: I don't get why we couldn't just wait at her house... like normal people.

Peter Vaughn: Does anything about this feel normal, Thomas?

~Vaughn sighs, suddenly gunning the engine to move into the opposite lane, passing by a slow-moving car. Thomas hangs on for a second, waiting until they're back across the line, before talking again.~

Thomas Hill: Look, I know you're a little... stressed... having to meet your half-sister and all. But remember, the last time you got to meet me, and that worked out, didn't it?

~Vaughn seems to be thinking it over, making sure not to look in Thomas' direction. He looks hurt for a moment, then recovers.~

Thomas Hill: We'll find out the truth about your Dad, don't you worry, bro. I mean, honestly, how do you think he got all the way out here from Dallas, without you knowing? Did he ever leave on any long trips?

Peter Vaughn: Not that I can recall... but there were some very late nights. Who knows who he was meeting with... back then...

Thomas Hill: At the very least, we know she's younger than you, right? So it probably didn't happen before Mom... y'know...

~Vaughn honks heavily at another vehicle that was starting to pull onto the highway, startling them enough so that they stop. Vaughn flies by them, seemingly gaining speed. The departure of his mother, who went on to a new life, is still a pretty sore spot to poke at, especially now.~

Thomas Hill: You know what? Let's put on some music. Yeah, music's a good idea.

~Thomas flips on the radio, setting it to the first radio station available. The song is instantly familiar.~

Night Ranger: "Sister Christian, oh the time has come..."

~Within a second, Thomas is quickly changing the station, flipping to the next one...~

Cyndi Lauper: "Oh, girls just want to have fun!!"

~Thomas immediately clicks off of that one as well.~

Aretha Franklin: "Sisters are doing it for themselves..."

~The radio clicks off, as Thomas sits back.~

Thomas Hill: Silence. Silence is good.

~The truck continues to roar onwards, making an exit off the highway as it heads for the next destination: a meeting of family that's apparently long overdue.~

We're getting closer to the main event, Ronnie.

Yeah, yeah, they aren't putting us at the end of the night. But the best matches usually aren't at the end, when the crowd is exhausted and already thinking about the traffic jam drive home. No, the best ones are when they're least expecting it, the fools. We're going to blow their minds.

So before I say anything else... I guess I should say I'm sorry about your loss. That's what I'm supposed to say, right, when a family member dies? A tragic loss, I'm sure. But I hope you're putting it behind you... or fighting for her, or something. Motivation is always good to have, to keep the fight competitive.

Personally, I've never needed extra motivation to fight, but that could just be me.

Still, I'm a little concerned about you, Ronnie. You seem to be lacking in conviction, something I wouldn't expect from a Strader. I thought I'd be hearing you talk all about how you're completely superior to me, referencing various things from our OCW and TPW pasts as if you were a God above me or something.

Instead, all I feel like I'm hearing from you is... you can't win.

Now, is this the truth? It could be. I'm damn good right now, on possibly the greatest streak of my life. But I can be beaten. A few wrestlers have proven that even I can slip up. But the fact is, Ronnie, it's hard to see you being the toughest threat in the world to me if you're coming into the contest with that kind of attitude.

You say I NEED to win. Well, yes. I always NEED to win, because no matter how much I win, it's never enough. But you saying that this match doesn't mean as much to you? That it wouldn't do anything for your career to defeat me, that no one's seeing you as a threat to win this one? You're doing yourself a huge disservice... and you're taking away some of my credit for when I get the victory.

You should be coming into this match feeling like everything's on the line, like your life will never be the same once that bell rings. You should have the fire and fury to pound away on me, unleashing that inner Strader beast that I know you all carry in your hearts.

I warned you about disappointing me. Please, PLEASE come into this with the belief that you are on my level. Come into this as a true warrior... because that's what I'm wanting, what I'm craving.

It has to be epic, Ronnie. It HAS to be.

~With the truck parked next to a series of other vehicles, Vaughn and Thomas make their way down a dirt path. Thomas still seems nervous, as if he's hearing banjos in the distance.~

Thomas Hill: You sure this is safe?

Peter Vaughn: Stop being a coward. You've spent way too much time in the city.

Thomas Hill: And you haven't??

~Vaughn doesn't respond. He comes around a tree and stops, peering at the lake in front of them. We can see several people lined up at the large lake, their fishing rods in hand as they continue to cast out, looking for that elusive catch. A sign nearby lists this as the "Martin & Sons Fishing Competition", apparently making this a sponsored event, probably by one of the small businesses passed earlier.~

Thomas Hill: So she's here? How do we find her, yelling out her name?

Peter Vaughn: I'm sure the fishermen would love that. Let's just get closer, and...

~There's a sudden commotion nearby, and Thomas & Vaughn turn to face that direction. You can see some camo-wearing men cheering on a young woman, wanting her to do something. She decides to oblige them, moving into action.~

[Image: tatum-paxley-nxt.gif]

~The lady stops, smirking at the grinning men, then directs them back to the small stand she's got set up. The men move over there, intent on making some purchases from her, as Vaughn shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I guess that's her.

Thomas Hill: I mean... maybe... I almost hope she isn't...

~Thomas stares over at her, until he notices Vaughn's glare, and nervously looks away. Vaughn sighs and walks over there, pushing past one person to come face to face with the young woman.~

Peter Vaughn: Excuse me. Are you Samantha?

Sammy Mitchell: Nobody calls me that anymore. It's just Sammy. Now, what are you wanting? I've got lures, I've got bait, and I've got snacks. Wouldn't recommend getting those mixed up.

Peter Vaughn: I'm not really much of a fisherman. Never understood the appeal of it, to be honest.

Sammy Mitchell: Then you're an idiot, because there's no other reason to be here.

Peter Vaughn: Well... there's one reason. I'm not sure how to break this... but...

Thomas Hill: Sammy, this is your brother, Peter. Oh, and I'm Thomas. Hi.

~Both Vaughn and Sammy shoot dark looks at Thomas, who takes a step back.~

Thomas Hill: Yep, definitely related.

Sammy Mitchell: What is this clown talking about? I don't have a brother...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, and I never thought I had a sister... but there was this DNA test Thomas here ran...

Sammy Mitchell: Wait, you're BOTH my brothers?

Thomas Hill: No, not... well, sort of... it's complicated, I guess...

Peter Vaughn: According to this test, you and I... had the same father.

~Vaughn hands over the test, with Sammy taking a look at it. She scoffs, laughing to herself, before handing it back.~

Sammy Mitchell: Well, I guess it makes sense. I wouldn't be the only one.

Peter Vaughn: "The only one"? So did your mother ever talk about...

Sammy Mitchell: The donor? Well, no, of course they didn't. It didn't really matter to them, anyway.

Peter Vaughn: ... Them?

Sammy Mitchell: Both of my mothers. They told me long ago about how they were so in love and wanted a family, so they went in to "make it happen" at the clinic in Dallas.

~A dawning comprehension is growing on Thomas' face, but Vaughn doesn't seem to have it yet, as he's still pretty confused.~

Peter Vaughn: So by making it happen, you mean...

Sammy Mitchell: My Mother Kennedy was the one who got the 'donation'. I hear they picked out a real nice file from the donor list. Some businessman or something. I guess you came about the same way?

Peter Vaughn: A donation... from a 'businessman'... like... from a sperm bank?

Sammy Mitchell: Uh, probably so... kind of gross to think about, really. I don't get why someone would just do that, but I guess I'm glad they did, otherwise I wouldn't be here.

~She turns back from her thoughts, suddenly realizing that Vaughn is quickly striding away from them. Sammy then turns to Thomas.~

Sammy Mitchell: Something I said?

Thomas Hill: Oh boy...

~Thomas just looks after the departing Vaughn, shaking his head, as we cut away again.~

Shocks can be a major part of our business.

I've had to roll through a few of them in my career, from the return to ALIAS to the collapse of TPW and its subsequent rebirth. I've had wrestlers that I thought were complete jokes push me to my limit, and I've had some of the biggest names in the business basically lay down for me.

I mean, I still knocked them out, but they clearly weren't at their best.

Moments like that are still what drive me forward, trying to find that thrill that I don't always get in the squared circle. It's the reason I challenged Flynn, my partner and one of the most talented competitors in the world, to a match for the XWF World Title. It's the reason I accepted Page's challenge in TPW, and why I'm looking forward to beating the hell out of Cross in WGWF.

It's the reason I keep looking for new land, like Sin City Wrestling... and like the Denzel Porter Invitational.

Yes, some will think I had ulterior motives for challenging you, Ronnie. Maybe they think it's revenge for something in our past. Maybe they believe I just want to embarrass you. But I assure you, that's not it. I may want your name displayed prominently on the List of the Vanquished, but there's no embarrassment in being there.

James Raven. Matthew Knox. Supreme Machine. Corey Black. Ned Kaye. You'd be sharing company with a who's who of the wrestling business. Sure, that list also has guys like Greg The Handyman and a Literal Gorilla, but trust me, those are at the bottom and should be forgotten about.

But I'm prepared for shocks. I know that you could still win this one, Ronnie, and I'm definitely not taking you lightly, no matter how much concern I have for your willingness to do anything to win. You can bet that I'll have every legal option on the table, and maybe a few more hidden underneath, but that's just my way, and I know you'll be prepared for it as well. At least, I hope you will be.

I'm trusting that your competitive fire will ignite once again, and your physical body will be able to keep up with that fire, despite the beatings you've taken lately. I choose to believe that I'm going to have to use my greatest skills to come out victorious at the DPI, because I want to see the greatest Strader performance in history.

But I can't ignore the fact that I might get shocked by the brevity of the contest.

I mean, with me going all out, I could easily crush you early, land the Revenged, and make my ascension to the top rope, wondering where it all went wrong.

Or we can go at it for 60 minutes, with Denzel pleading for the referee to do something, and the audience chanting "This Is Awesome" the whole time. And then... when you finally get laid out, and the Plunge is coming...

It won't be a shock. It'll be a relief.

I'll see you in that ring, Ronnie. I'll see your best, or I'll send you home quickly. Either way... I'll do my damnest to allow you to take the Plunge.

~We rejoin Vaughn as he's standing underneath a tree, further away from the fishing event. He's picking at a flower he picked up, tearing off a petal at a time and watching them float away on the breeze. Behind him, we see Thomas making his way cautiously over, glad to have found him.~

Thomas Hill: You'll never know how relieved I was to see your truck still in the parking lot. I doubt Sammy would give a ride to a guy she just met, especially as screwed up as our family tree is.

~Vaughn doesn't give a response to that, other than by crunching up the rest of the flower, before tossing it away and leaning back on the tree. Thomas stares at him, trying to think of the right words.~

Thomas Hill: You know... you were worried about your Dad sleeping around with a bunch of women, or even cheating on your family and helping to break it up. Isn't this, sort of, a better result?

~After a few seconds, Vaughn finally turns his attention to Thomas. It's not a pleasant look.~

Peter Vaughn: My father was going out and making contributions to a sperm bank on a regular basis, lying about his employment status at the same time. You think I should be happy about that, rather than him banging a chick from our apartment building or something?

~Vaughn suddenly turns, slugging the side of the tree. A piece of bark goes flying, although the tree holds up. Vaughn's knuckle, meanwhile, is almost immediately bleeding, but he doesn't seem to feel it. He turns back around, leaning against the tree again.~

Thomas Hill: I think you're looking at this the wrong way, Peter.

Peter Vaughn: Oh, really? How should I be looking at this, THOMAS?

Thomas Hill: You're thinking of what he did... but not why he did it.

~This catches Vaughn's attention, as he looks over at Thomas with a raised eyebrow.~

Thomas Hill: There aren't many reasons to donate to a sperm bank, as well as fabricating your history for it. The main one I see is money. You get paid more the more successful you are, right?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah? So? My dad pretended to be a stud...

Thomas Hill: And he most likely did it to provide for you. Haven't you told me before how tight money was once Mom left? How much of a struggle it was? You ask me, this sounds like your father did these things... for you.

~Vaughn studies the ground for a time, thinking it over. He then turns, pushing off the tree, as he faces Thomas.~

Peter Vaughn: Guess that's... not the worst reason in the world...

Thomas Hill: Definitely not. Now c'mon, Peter, let's get back to Dallas. You've got your DPI match to keep preparing for, and I assure you, Veronica won't just stand there and let you rip off a punch like you did to that tree.

Peter Vaughn: Nah... but if it connects... she's in trouble. Thanks, Thomas.

Thomas Hill: What's a half-brother for?

~The two start back to the parking area, heading to the truck. As they get there, they notice that there's someone sitting on the edge of the bed of the truck, looking their way. It's Sammy, impatiently waiting for them.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Enjoying the ride up there?

Sammy Mitchell: Says the guy who says we're related and then bails on me. You think you can just drive away without more details? C'mon, tough guys. I'll even buy you lunch in town. What do you say?

Thomas Hill: It sounds good to me... what about it, Peter?

Peter Vaughn: ... I suppose.

Sammy Mitchell: Good. Maybe we can even talk about if we've got any more 'seedlings' out there! Hah! Just follow me!

~Sammy heads over to her own truck, which is surprisingly similar to Vaughn's. Thomas grins and gets into Vaughn's truck, even as Vaughn's face shows the horror that he'd never considered: the possibility that there are even more siblings out there. We slowly fade out.~

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode A Family Reconnected...
Author	Message