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Peter Vaughn · (02-07-2023)

The Road So Far:

Leopards, Vultures, & Monkeys: A Zoological Mystery

Spiders, Snakes, & Worms: A Mystery Solved

~Our view slowly opens up on a dark, dreary-looking evening in Texas. The wind is blowing fiercely, sending some leaves flying through the air like paper airplanes tossed by an invisible hand. Winter has once again come to Dallas, chilling the air all around us. The picture slowly moves to the side, showing us what looks like a cemetery shot... complete with a man in a long overcoat standing near a grave.~

[Image: gravesite.png]

~The camera slowly maneuvers around, getting closer to the person in question. We can now see the familiar face of Peter Vaughn, even as he lifts a bottle of Yellow Rose up to take a drink. His eyes look oddly hollow, as if he's been battling with some demons this evening. After a few more moments, as the wind blows all around him, Vaughn takes one more sip before he steps forward towards the grave in front of him. He stares down at the tombstone, deep in thought, before finally speaking.~

Peter Vaughn: Is it true, Dad? Is it true??

~Vaughn leans down, glaring at the tombstone, as his father's name is illuminated by a quick flash in the sky, the sign of an oncoming storm. The son puts his hand on the grave, waiting for an answer that will likely never come, at least not in the way he would expect, as we slowly cut away.~

Two Hours Earlier

~The weather still appears to be getting bleak, but the daylight is still finding a way to slip through the cracks as we look out the window of the house we're in. The camera moves away from the view, focusing on the two individuals inside what appears to be a modern kitchen. On one side, we see a woman we're well acquainted with: Angela Hill, the long-absent mother of one Peter Vaughn. On the other side, under the sink, we can hear the sounds of work being done, as two legs are sticking out, dressed in the distinctive coveralls that many servicemen wear. Angela moves closer, peering as if to look down the sink from above.~

Angela Hill: How's it going?

~There's a final "clink" inside, as Peter Vaughn pushes himself out to look upwards.~

Peter Vaughn: Never ask a real plumber that. They'll immediately tell you it's a disaster and will cost hundreds more.

~Vaughn gets to his feet, dusting himself off. He reaches over, running the water, which is immediately flowing. Angela, smiling, steps in, putting her hand under it.~

Angela Hill: Thank goodness. I was tired of washing the dishes in the bathroom. It's not very sanitary, you know.

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. So... are we going to keep stalling, wasting my time when I could be off training for my match against Veronica Strader? Or are you going to tell me why I'm actually here?

~Peter steps away, using a towel to clean off his hands, as Angela looks back, confused.~

Angela Hill: You need another reason? I told you, I was...

Peter Vaughn: From what Thomas has told me in the past, you have handymen on retainer for easy fixes like this. It was barely worth my time, changing out that p-trap. Therefore, there's another reason you wanted me here. So spit it out.

~Peter glances over at his mother, letting a little annoyance show. There still hasn't been a full rekindling of emotions between Peter and Angela, who left Peter & his father when Peter was just a boy. Despite Angela coming back into his life, Peter still hasn't found any reason to forgive her for her actions, leaving him while going on to create a new family elsewhere. Angela sighs, realizing that she still can't get anything past her son.~

Angela Hill: Okay, Peter. It's about your brother.

Peter Vaughn: My half-brother, you mean?

~Peter learned about his half-brother, Thomas, last year, born to Angela & Matthew Hill years after her departure from the Vaughn family. The two have, reluctantly, come together, working on various projects together, but it's still unclear how much Peter accepts him as family, even now.~

Angela Hill: Peter... your BROTHER hasn't been doing that well lately. Did he tell you he lost his job last month due to layoffs?

~Peter looks up, a little startled. It's clear that Thomas had never said a word.~

Peter Vaughn: ... I thought he seemed a little down the other day. He was browsing those online websites, searching for something to amuse him. Guess I should have realized something was up.

Angela Hill: I know he's done a lot of work for you, Peter, at your ranch. Yet you've never given him a salary for it. Why do you think that is?

Peter Vaughn: I.... well, he never asked for one. He always volunteered.

Angela Hill: And so you didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

Peter Vaughn: No, it's not like that...

~Angela gets up, moving off to the side as she changes out the dish towels, putting a clean one in place of the one that Peter dirtied up. She takes it over to the laundry room, putting it on the washer, before looking back at her son.~

Angela Hill: It would mean a lot to me if you'd help your brother out. I know... I know you won't do it for me. But you should really consider doing it for him.

~Peter opens his mouth to respond, but decides to close it again, turning away. Angela sighs, knowing that there's still a wall between them that might never be brought down. As she turns away as well, moving back to the sink, the door to the side opens, with Thomas Hill rushing in. He hurries over to his mother, apparently not seeing Peter off to the side.~

Thomas Hill: Mom! You'll never believe what I just discovered!!

Angela Hill: Calm down, Thomas. Remember, strokes can run in our family.

~Thomas seems too excited, however, as he flails a piece of paper in front of her. It's folded, as if having just come out of an envelope.~

Thomas Hill: You see, I sent away for one of those Ancestry DNA tests, and the results finally came back!

Peter Vaughn: Why are you wasting your money on things like that? Or was this before you lost your job?

~Thomas nearly falls over when he spins around, completely startled by Peter's presence there. His face pales, as he immediately lowers the results as he takes in his half-brother.~

Thomas Hill: P-Peter! What are you doing... here.... wait... Mom? Did you tell him about...

Angela Hill: Peter deserved to know, Tommy.

Thomas Hill: Oh, but... it's just a temporary set-back, Peter, I swear. I'm going to resolve it, no worries...

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, you are... by coming to work with my ranch full-time. Enough of this volunteer shit.

~Thomas looks shocked, as Peter walks over to him. He puts a hand on Thomas' shoulder, squeezing it just to the edge of it being painful.~

Peter Vaughn: I need guys I can trust. You've proven that you fit the bill, at least so far. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't hire you. What do you think?

Thomas Hill: I... I... of course I can... I mean, how much?

~Peter smirks, not surprised by the question. He has been known as a bit of a penny-pincher in the past.~

Peter Vaughn: We'll work out the details, don't worry. Now what's got you so excited about this test?

~Before Thomas even knows what's happening, Peter plucks the sheets of paper from him, glancing at them. Thomas, surprisingly, tries to grab them back, instinctively snatching at them, but Peter is able to step away in time.~

Thomas Hill: It's nothing, Peter! Just... just a waste of money, like you said, right?

Peter Vaughn: Uh huh... that's not what you were saying... earlier...

~Peter's voice trails off, as he reads the part of the sheet that appears to be highlighted. He then looks up, his eyes like daggers as he glares over at Angela. Thomas lowers his head, even as Angela can't help but take a step back.~

Angela Hill: What is it??

Peter Vaughn: Apparently... the test found three living close-blood relatives to Thomas. It found you. It found me. And... it found a sister.

~Angela's eyes widen in shock. She glances over at Thomas, who doesn't look up, then back at the steel glare from Peter.~

Angela Hill: Now, hold on. You two are the only kids I've ever pushed out, and believe me, I remember both of those days. There haven't been any more.

Peter Vaughn: DNA doesn't lie, at least according to every detective show I've seen.

Thomas Hill: It's, umm... it's not what you think, Peter.

~Thomas finally forces himself to look up, staring at his now-puzzled half-brother.~

Thomas Hill: The test... shows connections throughout the family tree. So it showed a 50% match between you and I... and then found another 50% match between... you and her...

Peter Vaughn: Wait... you're saying...

~Peter rereads the note, realizing that Thomas is correct. He looks up again in disbelief, as Thomas slowly nods.~

Thomas Hill: You don't have the same mother, Peter... you have the same father.

~Peter runs a hand to the back of his neck, absolutely stunned, as Angela gasps, realizing the truth. We slowly cut away.~

For some, family is the greatest connection to have in the world. For me, it's always been more of a distraction than anything.

I can't say I haven't admired some families from afar, however, and one of those has always been the Strader family. I mean, how could you not? They were always out there, in your face, continuing the family legacy of destruction and domination. You look down that list, and you see some of the toughest fighters in the world. Many of them have shown they're willing to do just about anything to win, something I've always admired about them.

Somehow, the timing has never worked out for a Strader and myself to face off. I've missed out on confrontations so much with them, due to various unimaginable circumstances, they were becoming my second "White Whale" behind James Raven, who I finally was able to crush at CCPE Vs. The World. I was beginning to lose faith that I would ever get to fight one of them.

Then I heard through the grapevine that Veronica Strader was talking about potential retirement, and I knew the window was closing. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't have the Strader question never answered for me, leaving it only in the field of imagination and dreams.

Yes, Veronica. I've been dreaming about you. As an opponent. As a challenge. As a Strader.

You were going to walk off into that sunset, never to return. Never to lock up with me, never to get tossed over the top rope by me, never to get bodyslammed by me. I just... I couldn't take it.

I pushed Chris Page to make it happen, and he worked his magic. And here we are, ready to face off against all odds at the Denzel Porter Invitational, a dream match for the ages. Sure, maybe the higher-ups don't believe that. Maybe that want to promote Raion vs. Corey as the match of the night, believing in that hero worship that gets the kids all giddy in anticipation. But we know the truth, Ronnie.

We know that our match is going to be the show-stealer of the entire event.

I know you're getting close to the end of your time here, Ronnie, just as I've reached my peak. But I think you've still got one incredible performance left in you. I believe it so much, I'm coming into the DPI with all guns locked and loaded. I'm going to come at you with everything I've got, because you deserve no less than facing me at my best.

That means I'm not going to hold back in any way. If I end up cracking a shoulder out of alignment or fracturing some ribs, well, that's just what happens when two of the top athletes get together to rumble. And I'm at the top right now, Ronnie. I've torn through all challenges in the WGWF to become the World Champion there, tossing out every opponent in the West Coast Rumble. I rolled to the all-time victory at the World Series of Wrestling, showcasing myself as the best in the world. I stomped on "The Goat" and went on to win CCPE vs. The World for my team, pinning poor Jackie Sullivan's shoulders to the mat for the 1-2-3.

I've basically done it all in 2023, and we're only into February.

That said, I'm not satisfied. I'll never rest when there's another war to be had, as I'm expecting to see from you. I want you to bring the Veronica Strader who tore up the OCW Transatlantic division for nearly a year... not the one who ended up losing the title to... Dangerous Dan. How did that even happen, anyway? Even when I was a goofy jobber in the GCWA, I could beat Dan. Did he really improve that much? Or were you just too tired to care?

I honestly don't know, and I don't care. Just leave that Ronnie at home and bring the one that's worth a damn to the competition, because I want you at your BEST.

So channel it up one more time, Ronnie. Bring out your Veronicasaults and your Strader-Styles. Load up your Blackened and your Veronicutter. Fire up your best moves, and I'll meet them with the Keyholder, the Insult To Injury, and The Revenged. I want the crowd to see all of our best maneuvers, stunning them with everything that we can pull off inside that ring and out.

Whoever gets their hand raised at the end of the night, I want it to be WORTH EVERYTHING to that wrestler. Because if you let me down, if you come in showing that you've never fully recovered from that drop you took off the roof of the TD Center... well, I'll be extremely disappointed in you. And I guess I'd have to seek out other Straders.

Don't make me do that. Face me at your best.

And if you give me everything you've got, and you still end up taking the Plunge, just remember: it was a war that your family can be proud of.

~We find ourselves back in the graveyard, where Peter Vaughn is kneeling now in front of his father's tombstone, staring at it.~

Peter Vaughn: So who was it, Father? Was it someone in the apartment complex, who you met during your time mopping their floors? Was it a random hook-up during one of those nights when you didn't come home, when you said you were out earning extra money somewhere? Or was it possibly someone I knew?

~Peter shakes his head, his expression full of frustration and confusion.~

Peter Vaughn: Did you even know, Dad, that I had a sister out there? Would you have told me if you did?

~There's no answer. None is expected. Peter slowly straightens up, still looking completely lost, something you don't see often from the renowned Mechanic of the wrestling world. He finishes off his Yellow Rose, raising up the bottle as if to smash it on the tombstone. After a few seconds, though, he controls himself, lowering the bottle and putting it back into the six-pack to the side. Even at a moment like this, he can't bring himself to make a mess.~

Peter Vaughn: I've spent so long... hating Mom... for what she did to us. Now I have to wonder... if I've been blaming the wrong person all along... I guess we'll see, won't we, Dad?

~As always, a cemetery continues to be one of the quietest places in the world. Peter gets to his feet, looking back at the tombstone once more.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm planning to face one of the top families in wrestling soon, Dad. I've done all I can to make the name "Vaughn" ring out as a force to be reckoned with, doing it on my own all this time. I thought maybe, in some way, I was bringing you some honor and respect. Now I wonder... if I just need to focus on my own success, leaving family out of it... or if family needs to be more of a factor than I've ever considered it...

~Peter takes a deep breath, sobering himself the best he can. He picks up his trash and brings it with him, headed for the parking lot of the cemetery. As he gets there, the headlights flash, and the door opens, with a worried Thomas Hill stepping out.~

Thomas Hill: Are... are you okay, Peter?

Peter Vaughn: I'm never okay, Thomas. I thought you knew that by now.

~Peter launches the bottles into the nearby trash can, where we hear a satisfying shattering of glass. He turns back, walking over to the passenger side of the car. Thomas looks over the top at him, still concerned.~

Thomas Hill: What's the next move, brother?

~Peter stops, glancing over the car's roof at Thomas.~

Peter Vaughn: The next move is obvious, Thomas. We find her. We find my sister.

~Peter gets into the car, slamming the door shut. Thomas takes an extra moment, looking around and wondering if they're making the right choice, before getting in as well. The car pulls out, leaving the cemetery behind, as we get a final view of it... and the slight whispers of the spirits that still dwell there.~

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