Cry Havoc

==============================
"Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception."
-Carl Sagan
==============================
*Welcome back, True Believers! We fade from a blank black screen to a significantly less blank black screen. Like, a good portion of our view is still an inky black, but it's now peppered with twinkling pinpricks of light. No, you didn't hit your head, but you are seeing stars right now. A shitload of 'em. It's truly a magnificent view, and one that doesn't require a lot of description, beyond "space; the final frontier". We only have a moment to enjoy the starscape, though, before the entrance of my favourite Red Eye Jedi(and yours too, you can admit it), The Omega Man, Jay Omega. Los Hombre Omeguloso takes a position in the center of the screen, and leans back against the starry void, or rather, the large window separating him from said void.*

JAY OMEGA: Where do I even start? I'll be honest; I have no idea what I'm doing at this point. We're a little more than a week away from the team-based Pay Per View War Games, and thus far, my team has been incommunicado. Shit, even my hyper-advanced AI is having a hard time tracking down Vagabond, and while I could easily find Sidney Grey and Centurion by dropping in on Anarchy, I really don't like slumming it on the B show. Pretty sure if I make one more Anarchy appearance, I'm contractually obligated to have a match; no thanks.

*As is par for the course for one of these promos, Jay pulls out a blunt, and sparks up with a flare from his gold Zippo.*

JAY OMEGA: A good many people would likely be upset to find themselves in my current situation; radio silent teammates and a first round match up against Crash Rodriguez, someone I haven't seen in the ring yet, Isaiah King, a guy who earned my respect after beating me in a hard fought battle, Mark Flynn, current X-Treme Champion and a man who whooped me good last year, and Ned Kaye, who is the only one of these guys I have a win over. And I don't know if I should even count that, because he wasn't himself at the time.

*Omega hits the blunt like it owes him money, and exhales a thick haze, a deep purple in color. As he does so, Jay puts on an exaggerated expression of apprehension.*

JAY OMEGA: So yeah, not off to a great start.

*Jay smirks at the camera, and takes another haul from the blunt.*

JAY OMEGA: Unless you're me. See, this is the kind of scenario I live for; outnumbered, outgunned, with little to no hope of victory. Call me crazy, many have, but there's just no substitute for the rush I get when I know I'm in for a good scrap. And with the caliber of opponents I've got right away, let alone whoever else I might or might not face later in the evening, and no guarantee of teamwork from my quote-unquote "partners", well…this is shaping up to be my favourite match thus far in my XWF career. I don't have to worry about waiting to be tagged in, I don't have to worry about someone else shitting the bed and losing the match for me, and I'll eventually have four opponents to clash with at once.

*Another purple cloud of smoke is added to the growing haze, giving a slight violet tint to our view.*

JAY OMEGA: That's right, I'm lookin' to throw myself into the mix with alla y'all at the same time. At most, I'll have to wait twelve minutes to get my wish, and you'd best believe I fully intend to do so. Am I likely to win in this scenario? Not at all. I told Sid and Centurion I could hit the ring with just Vagabond at my side, and still have even odds; that number decreases slightly if I remove him from the equation, but hey, the odds are rarely in my favour, and that's the way I likes it. Makes the victory that much sweeter if I can pull it off.

*Omega gives a casual shrug before drawing on the blunt again.*

JAY OMEGA: But again, that's not too likely. I mean, I know literally nothing about how Crash conducts himself in the ring, beyond what sparse information is provided in his official roster entry. Dude's a complete wildcard, completely impossible to predict, and not just because his bio says so. I've got a slight size advantage though, so when in doubt; smash. I mean, I could stand here and flap my lips, try and run him down, but to what end? I'd just make myself look like a jackass who was throwin' out random shit an' seein' what sticks. Who knows? Crash might even turn out to be the best scrapper on the team, and give me the fight of a lifetime. One can only hope, eh?

*Omega takes another hit from the blunt, the purple haze in the room much more noticeable now.*

JAY OMEGA: As for Isaiah King, well, it wasn't all that long ago that we tangled over a shot at the TV title, which anyone can tell you Isaiah won; both the contendership and the title. I could pull out the old chestnut about how lightning never strikes the same place twice, but that saying is bullshit; a single lightning bolt is actually multiple lightning strikes happening so fast you can only see one. Thanks for that info, Nicky. I've got a lot of respect for Isaiah because, like me, he's got a warrior's soul, but, while fleet of foot and fierce of fist, King is no lightning bolt. I won't be so foolish as to say that I have his number this time around, but with the benefit of experience, I have a much better understanding of how to handle him. Again, not a guarantee of victory, because he's got that same experience with me. The difference is, he's likely to fall back on what worked last time, while I know I have to try alternate approaches. Adapt and overcome, that's the nature of survival.

*Jay fills his lungs, then looks up and slightly to his left at the sound of a door sliding open. Omega then quirks an eyebrow in a mixture of surprise and confusion.*

JAY OMEGA: What in the Nine Hells of Baytoar is this happy horseshit?

*The cause of The Omega Man's confurprision enters the scene; a misshapen gorilla carrying a boot decorated to vaguely resemble a barrel. Clearly a costume, presumably worn by Alex Richards.*

ALEX RICHARDS: It's my outfit for War Games; I'm gonna be your team's mascot!

JAY OMEGA: Yeah, that's not happening.

ALEX RICHARDS: When I found out I hadn't signed my contract in time to be considered for War Games, I went apeshit; I'm not monkeying around here, Jay. I've already got the big and drunk parts down, just give me a chance; I've been practicing my Kong Fu and everything!

JAY OMEGA: I can't believe you thought this would be an acceptable idea. You know kaiju are huge, right? Like, easily fifty feet tall? You're a big dude, Alex, but you're not kaiju big.

ALEX RICHARDS: I see; you're saying if I can get Nicky to figure out a way to make me fifty feet tall, you'll let me be the mascot. I'm on it!

*Alex pivots and darts away at a speed belied by his size, disappearing before Jay can give voice to the objection that's painted on his face.*

JAY OMEGA: Hoo boy, no way that's gonna end in anything but disaster. And on the subject of disaster, let's talk about my failed run at the tag titles last year, when I was trounced by Mark Flynn, and the dearly departed North Korean War Criminal, may he rest in whatever communist afterlife he went to.

*Omega bows his head in a moment of silent remembrance, then levels his gaze and takes several small, rapid tokes from the blunt to rekindle the ember.*

JAY OMEGA: So yeah, last year, I tried to capture the XWF Tag Team Championships while partnered with a variant of myself from an alternate reality. One chosen by the fanbase here. And they chose to pair me up with a stay at home dad who hadn't set foot in a wrestling ring in nearly twenty years. Not that the zombie or the pacifist would have been much better, though I imagine Zombie-Me would at least be able to fight. But I'm not gonna throw poor Jim under the bus like that; I was in the match, too, I was equally responsible for that loss. So what's changed since then? Well, Flynn went solo and became an extremely dominant Universal Champion for a while. He's also made great strides in his efforts to reduce the XWF's carbon footprint, by promoting cleaner, greener kickouts.

*Jay takes another lungful of potent pot smoke, the added cloud thickening the haze enough to partially obscure his features.*

JAY OMEGA: Me? Well, we don't need Mark to be the Stats Guy to know that my win-loss record ain't nothin' to brag about, and there was a point in my career when that would have bothered me to no end. But these days, I'm just here for the thrill of the fight; rising up to the challenge of our rivals. And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the– no, hang on. Holy shit this is some good weed.

*Omega inhales a greedy lungful of pot smoke, but holds it just a little too long, and goes into a short coughing fit that doubles him over. Once The Omega Man regains his composure, he takes a measurably smaller hit.*

JAY OMEGA: Where was I? Greensleeves, Loser, Eye of the Tiger… Right, right. I'm not ashamed to admit my failures; XWF has some of the best competition I've seen in my travels through the multiverse, and I've been to a world where people are literal wrestling machines. Like Robo-Gravy, but, y'know, good at wrestling. I'm not ashamed of those failures, because that's how we better ourselves. I've taken lessons from my two consecutive losses to Mark, and learned from them; I can honestly say I'm a better man today than I was a year ago, and I'm rarin' to give Flynn a much harder fight than I did the last time we threw hands.

*Jay takes a final hit of the blunt, then wets his thumb and forefinger with his tongue, before pinching the burning end of the bud to crush the embers, hissing as he burns his thumb.*

JAY OMEGA: I expect a clean fight from Mark; now that he's a good guy, he wouldn't dream of resorting to underhanded tactics. I don't understand why everybody acts like he's still a conniving, backstabbing pile of shit; the man's good, now; I say let bygones be bygones. The entertainment industry is full of instant redemption stories, and the Law of Inverse Assholery - different from an inverted asshole, do not put that in a Google image search - states that Mark Flynn must now be just as much a good guy as he was a douchecanoe beforehand. Sorry people, these are just the facts; I don't make them up. Well, not all of them, anyway.

*Omega looks around for somewhere to put the roach, shrugs, and stuffs it in his pocket.*

JAY OMEGA: Last, but probably not least, the captain of team Good-Boi, Ned Kaye. I just can't bring myself to be mad at him, y'know? He's just so wholesome. And no, I'm not pretending to confuse him with Flanders this time; he's genuinely a good dude. Maybe a bit of a try-hard, but a good dude nonetheless. Now, the last time we tangled, I was a little busy having my bell rung by a Deified Hammer and a Kneetoriious at the same time to pick up on it, but going back and watching the tape, I've noticed that you've got a couple of tells when you're going for specific kicks; the way you lead off with your left for a spinning heel kick, or the way you flex your right knee just so before a superkick. These are little quirks you need to watch for, and train yourself out of, or else people could take advantage of them. People like me, for instance; I am planning to fight all four of you at once, after all, so I'm going to need to seize every advantage I can, so long as it's within the boundaries of the rules. And as long as none of your teammates *fakecough*MarkFlynn*fakecough* "forget" that good guys don't cheat, I won't either.

*Jay casts a wandering eye about the room, taking in the hazy conditions.*

JAY OMEGA: Fuck, I should probably vent this room before I set off the fire suppression system again. Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back.

*The video freezes, and we clock wipe to Omega reclining against the armrest of an oddly-spotted, brown leather couch, set against a glossy white wall, under a framed landscape portrait of an alien forest in hues of blue.*

JAY OMEGA: Knowing that Ned's arsenal relies heavily on his leg work, that's clearly the go-to strategy for wearing the Notorious N.E.D. down. I'm not a master mat technician, but I'm no slouch in that department either; I'm not sure if this War Games match is linfall only, or if submission eliminations are viable, but if it's the latter, we'll, I'm gonna make it a personal goal to make Ned Kaye tap out. Why? Mostly because I imagine just punching and kicking the lot of you is gonna get boring, and I'm trying not to expend too much energy, seeing as how I plan to go on to the survivor's match in the main event.

*The Omega Man chuckles, and rolls his eyes in self-deprecation.*

JAY OMEGA: I know, I know; wishful thinking. But you can't let your dreams be dreams. Intellectually, I know that my odds of going all the way to the main event, while relying solely on myself, are pretty slim. But we are creatures of instinct, and my instincts are telling me that I've got what it takes not just to survive, but to thrive in this event. The wild flow of a chaotic battle, the unorthodox combination of foes, the unique environment; it's almost tailor made to my tastes.

*Jay gives a nonchalant shrug and tilts his head to the right.*

JAY OMEGA: Gentlemen, I can't tell you why Sidney selected the team members she did; she's obviously stroking a massive hate-boner for Centurion, and picking Vagabond was clearly just adding insult to injury after she stole his spot as team captain. Based on what I've seen so far, it will take a small miracle for Drunky Kong to function as anything even remotely resembling a team. I can't even really tell you why she chose me, aside from the fact that I did her a favour some months ago. But it's lucky for her that she did, because while I am many things, above all else, I'm a survivor.

*Omega shifts his eyes from left to right a few times.*

JAY OMEGA: Don't, uh, don't let the fact that I've died twice confuse you on that last part; those were extenuating circumstances, and technically not me. Personally, I've lived through some shit that would kill a Terminator.

*Jay breathes on the fingernails of his left hand, and buffs them against his shirt in a gesture of self-assured arrogance.*

JAY OMEGA: I can't guarantee that the Good-Bois will be brought to heel, but I can guarantee that I'm gonna put everything I've got into making the attempt. And there's always the infinitesimal chance the other three members of my team can be convinced to at least not try to kill each other for one night. Vagabond should be easy enough to get on board, if I can figure out where in the bush he's hanging out this week. I'm gonna show up at the Tokyo Dome ready to rock, regardless of whether or not my team is willing to roll with me. But in the meantime, I'm gonna keep trying to get Sidney on the horn, see if she's willing to parlay. Plan for the worst, hope for the best.

*Omega looks down at his left forearm, and begins tapping at the tablet strapped to his arm.*

JAY OMEGA: All right, we'll, that's my contractual obligation fulfilled; tune in next week for more of this train wreck. Later, folks. … Hey, Dani, Jay Omega again. I know getting Sidney to actually listen is damn near impossible, and I'm sure you're trying your best. Just please, for the love of Xor, do whatever you have to do to get her to call me back. Also, you and I should totally have dinner soon, let me show you a good time.

*The Omega Man glances up at the camera, and does a double take.*

JAY OMEGA: Shit, I thought I turned that off. Let's try that again. Later, folks!

*This time Jay makes the "cut" motion as he finishes speaking, and the scene fades to black.*