~The shot opens on a close-up of a doorway, which has painted on it "No Back Entry Allowed". Someone has scrawled in a message underneath it: "No Anal. Bummer." We can hear the sounds of sirens in the distance, slowly coming closer. The door suddenly slams open, as a trio comes stumbling out. We quickly see that it's Peter Vaughn, his half-sister Sammy Mitchell, and his half-brother Thomas Hill. Peter and Sammy have Thomas supported between them, as he looks barely conscious. All three are sporting some new wounds, likely received in their recent bar fight. Surprisingly, though, both Peter and Sammy are all smiles as he hurry around the side.~
Sammy Mitchell: I'm parked just around here.
Peter Vaughn: Glad you drove. We need to get the hell out of here. I don't really need the XWF management worrying about me again.
Sammy Mitchell: Yeah, but there's one problem...
Peter Vaughn: What's that?
~The two come up to Sammy's truck, which appears to be a smaller model than Peter's cherished "Gabriela". Part of the size difference appears to be the lack of any back seats in the truck. Sammy nods that way, then nods back to the silent Thomas. Peter figures it out pretty quickly.~
Peter Vaughn: Ahhh, I see. Well, it's not really that much of an issue...
Sammy Mitchell: It's not?
~As soon as they reach the truck, Peter reaches down and hauls Thomas up, using a burst of strength to push him over the edge and into the bed of the truck. He crashes down, out of sight, with a loud thud. Sammy looks surprisingly over at Peter, who just shrugs. The sirens get even louder, so Sammy shrugs and hurries around to the driver's side, leaping in. Peter does the same on the passenger side, with the truck pulling out just as the police cars begin to arrive. Peter looks over his shoulder through the back window, nodding in appreciation.~
Peter Vaughn: They made pretty good time.
Sammy Mitchell: Well, I think the owner was pretty insistent on the phone once you knocked out his bartender.
Peter Vaughn: Hey now, that was nowhere near my fault! Bartenders are taught to keep their heads down during fights like this. How could I know he'd suddenly pop up like a prairie dog when I launched that mug at the big guy?
Sammy Mitchell: Hope his medical bills aren't too bad.
Peter Vaughn: Eh, he'll live. I left a good tip.
~Sammy looks over at Peter, who seems to be completely serious about the tip. He likely did leave behind a stack of bills, although who knows how much will go towards damages. Sammy shakes her head.~
Sammy Mitchell: Okay, I admit it. I think you're crazier than me.
Peter Vaughn: If you believe the rumors, I'm crazier than everyone... or I'm the only sane one here.
~Vaughn shrugs, looking out the back window again. For a second, we see Thomas sitting up, holding his head in confusion. But the truck takes a quick right turn, slamming Thomas back down out of sight. We cut away.~
I'm not usually one to run away from a fight, even if that fight has already concluded. But sometimes you just have to pick your shots, you know?
I'm sure you can appreciate it, Mr. Gothbar. It'd suck if one of us didn't show up for the March Madness Tournament contest, wouldn't it? I'm really looking forward to this one. It'd be a huge shame to have it end in any other way than a pinfall or submission. After all, I need every victory to feel like some sort of monumental event, and I'm already behind due to facing Calypso in the first round. I can't really afford for this one to be a disappointment as well.
So let's talk about your mental health, Gothy Boy.
I heard your talk about people thinking you're a lunatic, and you know what? I've been there. You may not have seen the videos of me back in OCW, but, uh, yeah, I went a little certifiable for a while. Even I can admit that to myself. It really took me getting in the groove and finding a good balance to keep the success going with a better sanity rating, and truthfully, many would say I'm not all the way there yet. I kind of prefer it that way, if I'm being honest.
So here's what I need you to do, Gotham: I need you to stop choking yourself and listen to me very carefully:
Sanity is overrated.
You can own your insanity and make it work for you. You can channel it straight back into your wrestling and really rip and shred everyone that's in your way. You can get back to being what you think you are, a top veteran of the sport. It's just going to take some work, Gothy, and it won't come immediately.
Now, of course, I'll be using all of this against you in our tournament match. Who WOULDN'T want to play some mind games with an unstable lunatic like yourself? But I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Gumball. For all my comments I've made about you... I DO actually see you as worthy competition. I mean, the bar was easy to clear, but that doesn't change the fact that it's true.
When I pin you right in the center of the ring, nobody's going to be saying "Oh, we saw that coming, that win was obviously going to happen." I mean, maybe SOME of them should be saying that, but they won't be. No, it'll be a combination of "Damn, I thought Goth could take him" and "What an upset!"
Now, those people are idiots, but they will be saying that afterwards, and you should be proud of that, Gooch, they DO have a high opinion of you, and frankly, so do I. In the end, I think you'll find a way to get to that success in the XWF. It's just going to take you a little while longer, because the tournament isn't going to be the way.
So after I wipe the mat with the back of your head, once again justifying that "mop" pun everyone loves to throw out around me, spend some time to concentrate that fractured sanity of yours into a true force and get back into the challenges. I'd love to see you fully focused and going against Flynn or Nickles. I truly believe you're going to climb that XWF ladder and make your way up to some success, finally, after so long...
But you beating me at Warfare? That's just crazy.
~The truck makes the turn into the bus station parking lot, eventually coming to a stop near the entrance. Peter gets out, rubbing a sore spot where a joker got in a lucky punch. Once the adrenaline wears off, you start feeling every nick and sore, just like after a wrestling match. Sammy gets out from the other side, shaking her head.~
Sammy Mitchell: You know, I can still take you guys back to your hotel. I don't mind the drive.
Peter Vaughn: Nah, we'll be fine. You don't have to worry about it. Just help me get the dead weight out of the back of your truck.
~Sammy scoffs at Peter's attitude, but goes around, unlocking the back. We see Thomas sitting up, breathing heavily.~
Thomas Hill: Where... where are we?
Peter Vaughn: C'mon, Thomas, we've got a bus to catch. The party's over for the night.
Thomas Hill: The last thing I remember... is that girl picking me up...
Peter Vaughn: Girl? That long-haired brute? He was a Thor-wannabe, not a girl...
Thomas Hill: Good... that makes it better...
~They drag Thomas out of the back, with Vaughn giving him a helpful arm as they turn towards the waiting area.~
Peter Vaughn: Well, it wasn't quite what we had planned, but I think I learned a lot mor about you, Sammy.
Sammy Mitchell: Same here, Petey. You definitely live up to your billing as a dangerous fighter. And you, Tommy? ... Well, I guess you can't help the blood you've got, right?
Thomas Hill: Huh? What do you mean by...
~Peter gives Thomas a quick shake, causing him to immediately wince in agony. Peter smirks, before reaching into a pocket and pulling out a bottle of Ibuprofen.~
Peter Vaughn: Here. Dry swallow a few of these, and maybe you'll survive.
~Thomas shakily works to get the bottle open, as Peter looks over at his half-sister, rolling his eyes.~
Peter Vaughn: The crazy thing is that his Mom is actually pretty tough, too. Alright, I'm going to get him home. We'll talk later... sis.
~Peter nods to Sammy, before turning and dragging Thomas towards the waiting terminal.~
Thomas Hill: You realize they sucker punched me, right? I would have fought back better if not for that...
Peter Vaughn: Uh huh. Just try to stay awake this time, Thomas, or you might find yourself up in the luggage rack on your way to Timbuktu if I feel like it.
Thomas Hill: You wouldn't do that to me? Oh, what am I saying, of COURSE you would...
~The two leave, even as Sammy heads back to her truck. As she gets in, she pulls out her cell phone and makes a quick call.~
Sammy Mitchell: Hey. Yeah, it's already over. I'm headed your way. Hmmm? No, the jury's still out, but I think I'm getting there. It's funny how much trust they put in a DNA document, isn't it? I'll see you soon.
~Sammy hangs up, throwing the phone aside, before driving off out of sight.~
Well, I suppose that about does it, boyo.
It's time to see if Gerrit van der Krift can stand against Peter Vaughn. Hell of an actual name, by the way. You really should just wrestle with that as your moniker. But I guess announcers would fuck it up. Plus, Goth's easier to write on a t-shirt.
Well, Gothy, we're going to see if your Gothic Nightmare can stand up against my Keyholder. We'll learn what's better, the Goth Drop or Revenged. Overall, we'll learn if you can find a way to dodge in time, or if you're taking the ultimate Plunge into the canvas.
Hey, if I knock you all the way through the ring, you'll be in darkness, right? So win/win for you.
It's going to be a furious contest, possibly the best of the night, at least in my unbiased view. Hell, after this match, as soon as you're back on your feet, you might have really gained some ground. In fact, I'm going to campaign for you to fight the Television Champion again.
Of course, that might be Jenny Myst again. That would suck for you, wouldn't it? Still, the third time's the charm, though, right? I'm sure you can take her, after all you've learned.
Maybe you'll even pick up some tips from me, given how I dismantle you on Warfare. I'll try to help expose your biggest weaknesses. I'll point out everywhere that needs improvement. Hey, it's worked for others. Look at Ned Kaye, who I beat the holy hell out of. He went on to unify some belts. An ass-kicking from me has proven to be beneficial.
Just take a look at your future, Gealt, and do take in that it's not completely bleak. It's just never going to be as bright as yours truly, the five-time World Champion and the soon-to-be-crowned March Madness 2023 winner.
Better luck next time, my CCPE compadre. See you on the dark side.
CWF Paramount Champion
GCWA Hardcore Champion
Outsiders Champion (x3)
OCW Craze Champion
OCW World Champion
TPW International Champion (First-Ever) (x2)
PW Valor World Heavyweight Champion
XWF Universal Champion
Level Up Game Genie Winner
XWF Supercontinental Champion