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Peter Vaughn · (03-18-2023)

~The picture slowly comes up on a digital clock. We see the clock change, going to 7:00pm, but nothing seems to happen with it. The camera slowly moves up, showing that we're inside a truck. A very special truck, actually. Gabriela is her name, for reasons we still don't know. She's the treasured ride of one Peter Vaughn, who is currently sitting in the driver's seat. The engine appears to be off, however, as he's just sitting there, staring out the window at a small neighborhood in front of him. In particular, he seems focused on one particular house, studying it with some intensity. He puts a hand on the doorhandle, ready to get out, but then stops. It's not the first time he's done this. It probably won't be the last, as he looks upwards with some frustration.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn it, Peter. What's the problem? This shouldn't be that hard!

~Vaughn shakes his head, then pulls out his phone, checking the photo currently displayed on it. It shows Vaughn standing next to his newly discovered half-sister, Sammy, who is all smiles in the shot. Vaughn, for his part, never seems to smile that much for photos.~

Peter Vaughn: We just need to talk to her... that's all... we just need to talk this out...

~He sits back in the truck, focusing on Sammy's smile, then picturing it melting away, the way it did when Sammy saw him angrily confront those fans at the Spurs game. They deserved to be handed their asses, but for Sammy, he had pulled back... but not enough. They talked it out later, but there was still a wall that had developed between the two since then. Sammy hadn't been returning Vaughn's calls lately. That's what had brought Vaughn out tonight, parked in front of her house. But now that he was there... he couldn't decide what to do.~

Peter Vaughn: ... I could just leave. It shouldn't matter that much. I just met her a month ago. She's just another person I'd have to take care of. I should head back home. I should.

~Vaughn reaches out, grabbing the gear shift. But again, he hesitates, his hand slowly coming back down. It's very rare to see this kind of indecision from Vaughn, who's known for making rash decisions without much forethought. But today, for some reason, it's different. He doesn't know why... he can't comprehend it, really... but he knows that it is.~

Peter Vaughn: If only she'd respond to a text...

~He gets his phone again, pulling up the text messages, showing a few questions innocuously sent to Sammy with no response. He starts typing up a new one, trying to figure out the best way to phrase things to get a response. That's when there's a bang at the truck window, startling him. He looks up, seeing Sammy standing there, a small smile crossing her face due to frightening him. He rolls down the window.~

Peter Vaughn: Ummm... Hi, Sammy.

Sammy Mitchell: I got tired of waiting for you to make up your mind. Also, the Neighborhood Watch is already focused on you, so the police wouldn't be too much further away, anyway. C'mon, let's go inside.

~Sammy turns and walks away, heading towards her house, as Vaughn takes a deep breath before rolling the window back up.~

Peter Vaughn: ... This wouldn't have happened if you responded to your texts...

~Vaughn gets out, locking up the truck, before following Sammy inside.~

Family always makes things complicated.

I really couldn't tell you why this is an issue with me. Even when I found out about Thomas, I was able to insult him easily. I don't know what's so different about Sammy, honestly. Maybe it's because she's so much younger than me. Maybe it's because I've been watching what an absolute dumpster fire Sidney Grey's family has become, and it's got me thinking about not screwing things up that badly.

Seriously, Sidney, you've really shit the bed there, which makes sense why your family doesn't want to be there with you. Nobody likes the smell of shit, not even janitors.

Still, I shouldn't spend too much time talking about Sid before I discuss my true Final Four opponent, Mr. Noah Jackson. Congrats, Noel, you made it farther than anyone would have dared dream. Let's face it, Thaddeus Duke is almost always going to be greater than you, but even superstars slip up now and again.

Course, Nickles slipped up, too, denying me my rematch with him. And Jenny slipped up, but then, she's pretty good at that. Oh, and Gravy blew it, too. Man, your division was stacked. So how the FUCK did someone like you get through? Have you finally realized your potential, Noah, after so many years of being a misplaced, insane bum on the XWF roster? Or has it just been a run of coincidences that should have taken you to Vegas and won you a free ticket to a magic show?

Maybe then you could disappear.

I kid, Noisy, truly. It's a hell of a run you've put forward, as not a single person had you making it this far. You weren't supposed to get out of the first round, really. So maybe you're on a path of divine intervention, or maybe you're just the luckiest SOB on the face of the planet.

Whatever it is, that run ends at the Pay-Per-View, because you need more than luck and fate to beat someone like me. Just ask Calypso, Goth, and Raion Kido, the golden boy who was supposed to win the tournament this year. You know everyone was saying that, right? Welp... just call Kido the Purdue of the XWF, because he blew his shot like a virgin on prom night, and now you will, too.

It's going to be a humiliating hard-break stop for you, Noisy, as The Mechanic is dead-set on reaching the finals of the tournament. I'm going to browbeat you across the ring, incinerate you with a rapid series of high-skilled maneuvers, and then eradicate you with some Revenged topped with a Plunge into extinction.

Am I speaking too high level for you, Noy? I don't want to lose your concentration, I know it isn't easy for you to stay focused with that attention span of yours. Look, let me just speak in your language for a second, so that I can get my point across to you.

"Hey, cunt!

You're a shitty cunt.

What a mother-fucking cunt.

Cunt! Cunt! Cunt!

You fucking suck, cunt."

There. I hope that got the point across.

By the way, speaking of family, your mother or father ever think about washing your mouth out with soap? It might have helped you in the long run. Spare the rod, get an illiterate son, I suppose. They really let you down overall, didn't they?

But that's family for you.

~We're inside Sammy's house now, a small but decent home for her to live. Vaughn is already examining the kitchen, having popped the bottom doors underneath the sink open to inspect the plumbing. Sammy is behind him, sighing as she watches him nod, tapping one of the pipes.~

Peter Vaughn: Not bad workmanship, but with a couple of upgrades, we could make this disposal here able to devour a broomstick without much trouble. Er, that is, if that's something you would want.

Sammy Mitchell: ... Who would want that? Why would I EVER have a reason to get rid of a broomstick that way?

Peter Vaughn: Well, I mean, it was just an example....

~Vaughn coughs, then straightens up, turning back to Sammy, who just shakes her head.~

Sammy Mitchell: So, should we talk about what brought you all the way to 10 feet from my home, where you sat for an hour?

Peter Vaughn: It was more like 40 minutes.

Sammy Mitchell: Peter...

~Vaughn lets out a breath before continuing, as he's still not been able to really get his thoughts all in order yet.~

Peter Vaughn: Look... ever since what happened at the game... I feel like you don't see me the same way. And you didn't respond to your phone, but I wasn't sure if that meant give you time, or if that meant I should come over and talk to you, brother to sister. Really, I'm new to all of this.

Sammy Mitchell: And I'm not?

~Sammy shrugs, then looks to the side for a moment. She has been avoiding him, and apparently now is the time to tell him why.~

Sammy Mitchell: There are things about me, Peter, that... well, there's no reason for you to know about them. But... when you lashed out at those fans... when you threatened to take their heads off... it brought back some bad memories.

~Confused, Vaughn leans against the refrigerator, waiting for her to continue.~

Sammy Mitchell: You see, I was... in a relationship with this guy, Josh Bingham. I met him in college. He seemed like the perfect guy for me. He was smart, handsome, and seemed to have a good sense of humor. But then, when we got... closer... he became a different person. He had a temper, just like you, Peter. And one night, he got... physical.

~Sammy's voice cracks slightly on the word "physical", as if just talking about it was forcing her to relive it. Vaughn has straightened up now, his face going dark, as he realizes what she means by this.~

Sammy Mitchell: After that night... he swore to me that he would change. But that's what they all say, I guess. He didn't change. And I took it for far longer than I should have, before I kicked him out for good. But in some ways... he'll be with me the rest of my life.

~Vaughn steps towards Sammy, as if thinking about trying to comfort her. But he's not equipped. He stays there, three feet away, as Sammy sniffles for a second before dabbing a tissue at her eyes.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean...

Sammy Mitchell: I know, Peter. But when you reacted like that... well, I won't say that it didn't affect me. Anger is... dangerous, Peter. As I said, it's something you need to work on. And I need to work on how it makes me feel, because I shouldn't disconnect from you like that.

Peter Vaughn: No, Sammy, don't worry about it. I just didn't understand. But I'm going to work on my... issues, when I'm around you. I'll do my best to control myself fully, to keep you from going through anything like this again. I won't bring it around you. I swear.

~Vaughn seems sincere, but Sammy doesn't seem to appreciate the specific nature of Vaughn's promise.~

Sammy Mitchell: It shouldn't just be around me, Peter. You have to learn to control your rage all the time, not just when you're visiting your half-sister. That means at your ranch, in Dallas, and even in the ring.

~Vaughn raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk coming across his face.~

Peter Vaughn: You don't realize how impossible your request is, Sammy. Rage is my fuel in the wrestling world.

~After a second, Vaughn's smirk develops into more of a grin.~

Peter Vaughn: Then again, you never know. Miracles do happen.

~Sammy, still fighting off her own emotions, manages a grin of her own. The two turn, with Vaughn wanting to see the rest of the house, as we cut away.~

So once I'm done dispatching with Mr. Jackson (Noah, if you're nasty, and damn, is he nasty), we'll be getting to the true contest of the March Madness Pay-Per-View. But herein lies the question: who will it be?

Could Sid G continue to be the underwhelming overachiever who will have to fight and win in two matches before we even get to the finals? By the time she finishes getting tongue-tied with Tommy, hammered by HGH, and knocked around by Ned, would Sid even have anything left? Hell, in that case, I hope Neddie kicks your ass, Sid, because I don't want the main event to be a total shitshow.

Yeah, I know technically Flynn is the main event, but he's facing Bourbon, and who even knows if he'll show up or not?

I mean, I'm sure Grey-zie has something going for her. She's made it this far. But damn, compared to everyone else, she's basically done a cakewalk in this tournament! Hell, she only had to beat Jay Omega in the Elite Eight. JAY. OMEGA. At least I faced multiple former world champions in my run to get here. Greyzo had the full blessing of the Wheel behind her, and it could get her Anarchic Ass to the finals.

But let's face it. Everyone would rather see Kaye vs. Vaughn.

Oh, I'm pulling for you, Neddie. I've watched as you've made so many changes in your life since I throttled you at Relentless. I bet you still have nightmares of that match, don't you? Sorry about that. I tend to have that kind of effect on people. But hey, you turned things around in a hurry. You even got to face Charlie Nickles after he stopped giving a fuck about wrestling again and won yourself that Supercontinental Title. Then you even unified it, hey, good for you.

Then you got your ass handed to you by Chris Page. Yeah. Been there. It's not pleasant.

But you're showing your yo-yo tendencies once again by making it through the tournament. You proved your ruthlessness by breaking your Saga boy, Buster. You proved you don't care about the fans when you humiliated Angie. You showed that you're willing to stomp on new talents' throats by breaking Dionysus.

Damn it, man, I'm proud of you.

That doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you, though. I still want to be the one holding the trophy at the end. I've made it to the end before. I won the PWV Roth Invitational Tournament. I took over the WGWF West Coast Rumble. But the XWF March Madness tournament? That's something special. That's something for the memoirs later in life. And I want it, Neddy.

I want it so bad, I'm not going to worry about what I have to do to anyone who stands in front of me, and that includes you. This could be a career-maker, Neds, but it could also be a career-ender. If your spine gets disconnected during the chaos that I'll bring to this contest, well, I might feel a tiny bit bad about it later... but I'm going to win this tournament, even if it's over your dead or mangled body.

Take that as a warning for you guys too, No-ahh, Siddy... you're facing a man who is looking to absolutely fuck up his adversaries and set a mark in the record books.

There is nothing I won't do... to achieve my goals.

Nothing.

So somebody be sure to wake up Noah for his scheduled ass-whooping at the PPV, as I crush his dreams just like I'll crush his ribs when I land on him. After that, I'll find out who the lucky bastard or bitch is that I face in the finals. But in the end, it won't matter if Slippery Sid or Needle-Nosed Ned gets there to face me.

I'll annihilate them all. Jackson, Grey, & Kaye.

Sounds like a second-rate law firm, doesn't it? Hope they control their civil suits after the devastation I bring upon them.

You'll all be taking the Plunge. Believe it.

~We see Vaughn stepping out the front door of Sammy's house, nodding back to her.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously, I'll get you the name of a few subcontractors. They do great work, and they owe me a favor or two. We'll have your house running perfectly in no time.

Sammy Mitchell: You don't have to do that, Peter. My house is quite fine the way it is. You don't need to 'earn' my favor back or anything.

Peter Vaughn: It's not about that. I just want to make sure my half-sister is living life right.

Sammy Mitchell: Uh huh. Next time, call ahead, and we'll go and get a meal with Thomas instead of you bursting into my partially-cleaned home.

Peter Vaughn: Next time, answer your phone, and I will.

~Sammy lets out a snort of laughter before shutting the door, as Vaughn heads for his truck. Immediately, his smile fades away, as he gets out his phone and presses a few buttons. We hear it ringing, as he approaches the truck.~

Bill Sykes: Hello, Mr. Vaughn. I haven't heard from you in a while. What can the Custodial Coalition do for you tonight?

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to need a favor from you, Bill.

Bill Sykes: Anything you need, Mr. Vaughn.

~Vaughn glances back at his sister's house, before opening the truck door and getting inside.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm going to need every bit of information we can find on a "Joshua Bingham". He went to college at TCU, but that's about all I know.

Bill Sykes: Well, I'm sure we can come up with something. Why do you need to find him?

Peter Vaughn: Because I found out tonight that he has a debt to pay... and I'm the one to make him pay it.

~Vaughn's hands tighten on the steering wheel, as we can see the fury running through him once again, at the thought of someone laying their hands on his new half-sister. It's almost uncontrollable, as he was barely able to keep it hidden from Sammy. She wouldn't understand... the need for vengeance. We fade away.~

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