Santos: Has anyone seen Brodie Tyler?! Anyone?

The scene opens on top of the parking garage across the street from the Toyota Center. With today being Memorial Day, and considering that most Americans don't truly care about what today actually means, but rather enjoy having an extra day off of work, fans are already tailgating for tonight's Monday Night Madness event in that very building. Tony Santos can be seen frantically walking around the parking lot, trying to find any clues as to the whereabouts of his opponent, Brodie Tyler, who has barely made a peep in the week leading up to the event, and has failed to address Tony directly during this time frame.

Tony makes his way to the middle of a line of trucks, all filled with kegs and drunk college kids from the University of Houston, who have foregone a lengthy trek to the beach (given this is Texas, after all), and instead are enjoying unsupervised, underaged drinking a few stories over the street. Tony makes his way up the hood of a red, Ford F150, then climbs up to the roof. Now, had this been any other schmo, you'd likely now be seeing a bunch of booze-filled, macho 20-something males attacking Tony momentarily. However, given that this is one of the performers tonight, and a somewhat better than mediocre one at that, the students chant "15 Packs" as Tony attempts to get their attention.

Santos: Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen! Hey! Guys! Girls!

The students continue to chant "15 Packs."

Santos: Hey! I don't actually smoke 15 packs of cigarettes a day! Don't you know this?! Who made you believe this was true?? Jon Plex?? That fucker is too stupid to realize that, when he thinks he's talking to Michael Phelps, he's really talking to a fucking basketball hoop, and you're gonna believe him??

The students continue to chant "15 Packs," but this time with even more intensity. Tony looks down at this and snarls.

Santos: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

The liquored-up kids laugh, then break out in to applause. They have successfully moved Tony Santos to his trademark bouts of anger and cursing.

Santos: Thank you. Guys! Gals! I have a very serious issue here, and I'm hoping that you can help me out here. You know that tonight is Monday Night Madness, right? You know, XWF? That's why you're getting drunk at 11 o'clock Central Time on a Monday, right? Okay, maybe you'd be doing so one way or another, but I'm just going to assume that's why you're here. With that in mind, I really, really need your help!

See, tonight, I'm supposed to fight this newcomer, Brodie Tyler! A man with a name so fucking vanilla that he'd likely fit perfectly in one of your fist pumping, chest thumping fraternities... but no matter! The problem is... I can't find him! Have any of you seen him?!

Some of the kids shake their heads while others have already gone back to drinking, ignoring Tony in the process.

Santos: Well, shit.

Tony hops off of the truck, his newly-stolen Nikes (to replace the shoes he lost in the alleyway in Boston) slamming against the pavement.

Santos: Come with me, Mr. Cameraman. We're gonna find this son of a bitch and make sure he makes it to the ring tonight! He will show up, or I'll be forced to chain smoke right in the middle of that ring for the five minutes it would've otherwise taken me to put this smiling fuck away.

Tony waves the cameraman along as he runs along the pavement. The cameraman attempts to keep up with a surprisingly quick Tony. Wasn't he a habitual smoker? Didn't that affect his ability to run or perform any form of physical activity for a long period of time? How was he doing this? How was he 2-0 in his return to the XWF?

Oh right, he faced Peter Gilmour and Jon Plex.

Tony reaches a garbage can and immediately pokes his head inside.

Santos: Brodie? Brodie?! You in here, man?

No response. Tony lifts the garbage can above his head, then empties its contents on to the ground.

Santos: God damn it, Brodie. God damn it!!!

Tony drops to his knees and sifts through the trash on the ground. He looks inside of a Cracker Jack box, peers through a sticky bun wrapper, and empties the contents of a Dasani water bottle. Nothing.

Santos: Brodie, I can't do this bullshit all day! I have training to take care of!

Tony gets up. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he looks around the parking lot, looking for any clue as to where Brodie Tyler could be.

Santos: Come on, Brodie! You can't be too hard to find. Don't you always have that stupid fucking smile on your face? Isn't that your catchphrase? Someone who's apparently so well known for such a stupid god damn trait better have teeth that provide a beacon for the world to see. Does your smile release your bat symbol? Wait, do you fight crime?! Are you off fighting crime?! Is that why we haven't heard from you since the Madness card was posted? Sure, I did see you chastising some members of the XWF roster for baiting Peter Gilmour in to a verbal shouting match, but maybe that's why we haven't heard a peep from you. You're off saving some damsel in distress! Untying some barbie doll from train tracks! Maybe even racially profiling some Pakistani and assuming he's about to firebomb a local Wawa.

Wait, did I just hear something?

Just then, Tony stops what he's doing and looks toward the source of the noise (of which nothing was audible to the cameraman or audience).

Santos: Hot damn, there he is! Let's get him, Mr. Cameraman!

Santos runs off again, and the cameraman struggles to keep pace. Making their way to the other side of the parking lot, they spot a... colorful... object. Leaning against the corner of the lot, it has what are bright red pants, yellow and blue shoes, and a blue vest. Its head is white with red hair. Its face looks to be a multitude of colors.

Santos: Is that? Is that you, Brodie? Brodie???

No response from the "thing." Tony bends over slightly, then starts slowly gliding toward this thing.

Santos: Brodie? Brodie, please answer me if that is you? It sure looks like you...

Still no response. Tony bends over a little more. He squints at the object, observing it from afar. Then he decides to go in for the kill. He rushes the object, grabs it by its vest, and picks it up. As Tony lifts it in the air and towards the camera, it's obvious that this is a clown doll.

Santos: Brodie! It is you. You bastard! You could've just told me you were busy readying yourself to entertain the local children of Houston! There was no need to hide from me at all! I would've completely understood your lack of response. Sure, I would've taken it as cowardice, as I have done nonetheless, but you would've certainly looked like less of a little bitch if you had at least told me of your plans! Gosh, this is so rude of you! A courtesy call or email would've sufficed, Brodie. Brodie? Are you okay?

No response. This is a clown doll, so, well, obviously there would be no response.

Santos: Well, Brodie, if you must be like that, then... off you go.

Tony hangs the clown doll over the ledge, then lets it fall in to the oncoming traffic below. Tony shakes his head in disappointment as he watches the doll get run over by a SUV. Tony turns back toward the camera.

Santos: Brodie Tyler. Brodie freaking Tyler. Where have you been? You sure as hell aren't in Houston, Texas. Or if you are, your balls sure aren't. Are you afraid of me, Brodie? Are you afraid that, should you attempt to smack me down with any bits of hatred and vitriol, that I'll spit them back in your face with venom that will blind you? Blinding you to the world that you've become so familiar with? The world that has allowed you to walk around, spewing shitty catchphrases against pathetic competition? A world too afraid to call you out for how worthless and utterly insignificant you truly are?

Well hot damn, Brodie Tyler, if that's what you were thinking, you hit the nail smack dab on the head! See, Brodie, I'm glad you had a nice debut for yourself... I really am. It seemed to go over swimmingly for you. However, the only reason you survived your first week here has to do entirely with the fact that only 50% of the participants in that match were competent enough to focus on the task at hand, while the other half could barely put their pants on right, let alone compete in a wrestling match. Hell, you weren't even supposed to partner with Arryn Connolly. You and her just happened to be able to stand without breaking an ankle, so that incompetent piece of garbage Archie Lawson had no choice but to put you two together. Why? So that he could save two of the four participants in that match from humiliating themselves, rather than one, should you and Arryn have been pitted on separate teams. Now?

Now you face me. And now you're scared. Why are you scared? Because I'm talented enough to twist you around like a fucking pretzel, and hateful enough not to care about ending your time here before it really began. I don't blame you for these fears you hold, Brodie, I really don't. I'm a major league player, and you're nothing more than a Single A wannabe who's hoping to get back on a bunch of luck and a stupid fucking catchphrase. A catchphrase that I did better, god damn it. You don't even have something that makes you stand out there!

Two weeks ago, I told Peter Gilmour to show up. I told him to give me some semblance of a fight, and he did. You wanna know why he did? Because he's too fucking stupid to accept what would happen to him when he stepped in that ring with me. And he got exactly what was coming to him. So, my question to you is...

Will you show up? Are you smart enough to stay at home and watch me make a mockery out of your name right in the middle of the Toyota Center? Or will you be dumb enough to step through those ropes, and take a Santos Stretch that will rip you in two?

Tony smiles at the camera.

Santos: Heh, you won't show up. Maybe I should give you more credit than you likely deserve! You're smart enough to realize that you have no chance in hell of beating me, so you're simply AWOL and hoping the powers that be in the XWF, who just so happen to be beating each others without mercy in our main event, brush it off as you taking a sick day, or are too concussed after their match to even remember that you didn't show up.

Heh, you're a smart man. Now do me a favor, if you're watching this...

SMILE!

The scene fades to black.

September 2013 and May 2019 Star of the Month
1x Hart Champion
1x Television Champion
1x Xtreme Champion