On The Move

The scene opens up on a bright morning inside of Tristan Bales office, the curtains are open letting in the sun fill the room reflecting off the white furniture. In the last several days he had had his office renovated and restored after it had been destroyed and it was now looking better than it did before. Bale had also looked better than he had in several days as the pressure from the FBI wasn’t as strong and the whole story seemed to take a backseat to other new stories in the news...It was still a huge story and people cared about - who wouldn’t care about big time criminals on the loose? Tristan sat there at his desk with a glass of Grey Goose, he knew it was too early to be drinking as he looked on at the clear liquid in the glass...He sat it down on his desk and moved it to the side when his phone began to ring - he pushed the speakerphone button and answered. It was Jaymz that came through on the other end, Tristan asked him how things were going and Jaymz replied "We got the mess at home cleaned up." Tristan smiled and told Jaymz "good" as he pushed the off button.. He kicked back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. ..Everything was going to be ok; he thought. ...But there was still a long way to go before this mess was over with..(scene fades out)

The television feed cuts back in but only this time there was no sunlight as there was moments ago..The scene opens up to a dreary hallway; the musty smell of the damp, dark concrete blocks that lined the walls were growing mildew. The smell of staleness hung in the air.. but there was something else, a smell that didn’t belong down here in the musty hallway. It was the smell of burnt flesh - the smell that makes your stomach turn and want to vomit.. It hung in the air and created a nauseous odor that would make most men puke. The cameraman turned down the hallway and we could see the individual lights suspended from the ceiling blocks dripping with moisture. Some of the lights swayed back and forth a bit causing the light to bounce from one side to the next moving shapes and shadows all across the hallway. The hall was long and curved to the right at the end...But there was something down the hall, a figure slumped over with its head tilted to the right side.. The closer the cameraman came the figure came into a clearer view, ..his fingers were twitching and there was something about the mans face, it was a bright red color that seemed solid like plastic - not liquid. But it gave way around his ears where the pale skin color came back around the redness... It appeared that his skin had been ripped from his face as it dangled in pieces from the side of his face and lay in chunks on the ground...His eyes were wide open, there was no choice for them to be open as there were no eye lids on the man; only the solid dried blood that looked like dried concrete.. His eyes were bloodshot red, glossy and held the look of intense pain and terror; and it was almost as if there was life in those eyes - as if they could still see and were still screaming in pain inside, begging for help that would go unheard.

The man wore a nice suit with a symbol sewed on the right breast with a name under it, Jackson. Another Government Agent Official and he had gotten too close for his own good. Footsteps came from around the end of the hallway and got quieter with each step..The cameraman went to the end of the damp hallway keeping his own feet as quiet as possible..He came to the end of the hall where it took a right and went that way. More lights lit another long stretch of concrete tunnel and two figures could be seen walking down, one much taller than the other; they both had long jackets that swept the ground as they walked..One footfall after another echoing back as they walked slow and steady down the stretch...As they walked under the down-hanging lights the bulbs lit up brighter and gave off a buzzing sound one by one as they walked under them.. Startled, the cameraman lurched back as the light above him shattered, followed by the next one, then the next, and the next.. They shattered one by one darkening the tunnel..Only one light remained at the end and both men came to a stop - the light lit up bright and buzzed and the whole fixture shook. The shorter man, not short - but not as tall as the other turned his head back down the dark tunnel... His eyes were white and rolled like liquid clouds, his face was unclear as his hair hung in his face. The light shattered and the hallway tunnel went dark, ..and the footsteps continued to quietly fade away into the distance...


There was a rusty creaking noise as the bolt unlatched with a slamming noise inside the door. The bottom of the door scraped across the concrete and a dim glow lit the room. There were pipes covering every wall and one single light in the center of the small room; Jaymz and Sin stepped inside and looked around the room and a moment later they found what they were looking for. Back in the corner there was moment, a clearing of the throat. The two men never said a word as a lighter flicked from the corner and seconds later the glow of a cigarette appeared as if it was floating, it brightened then fell back down a few feet.. Smoke came from the corner and floated up in the stale room with no circulation. Sin turned around and went back to close the huge steel door, again it scrapped across the concrete and echoed all throughout the brick room filled with piping. The bolt locked with a thud and Sin turned back around and took his place next to Jaymz. The person in the corner took a few drags off the cigarette taking his time, knowing that neither of these men would speak until He spoke to them. He flicked his cigarette across the room, it flew past Jaymz and landed on the floor, the cherry busted into pieces leaving red dots on the floor that quickly disappeared.

His voice was raspy and he tried to keep quiet; his voice held the tone of authority and demand, “How close were they?”

“They were here…They didn't know that you were in here, but they were close.” Jaymz’ deep voice echoed throughout the small room. Sin looked up at him with that “lower your voice” look.

“We need to end this, boys. I'm tired of sitting around like I was in a FUCKIN JAIL CELL!!” His voice rang off the walls and seemed to make the room tremor. Jaymz lowered his head as Sin stared on at the corner.

Sin looked on at the figure in the corner, “your gonna be in jail cell if you don't keep that damn voice down, understand?”

The figure jumped up and the chair crashed to the ground, he stayed in the darkness, “I don't know much about you – and I don't know how you got into that prison..but you don't ever, ….ever, speak to me that way. Your not the one hiding in every corner and crevice to escape, to be free. ..Speak to me like that again and I’ll have Jaymz finish you off right here.”

Jaymz kept his head lowered, he was put in a bad position between old and new friends and it was a situation that he didn't want to be in “…I wont do it.”

The voice came from the corner again sounding shocked and pissed off, “..Excuse me!?”

“I said that I wont do it. ..Sin is one of us – you would still be in jail if it wasn't for him”

The voice in the corner calmed down a little and for a moment he said nothing at all, “..I see how it is. If that's the way it has to be – then fine. I need my thoughts, I want both of you to leave..I’ll be out shortly..”

Jaymz turned away and went back to the door, once again he opened it and walked out. ..He looked back and saw Sin still facing the figure in the corner, he reached back inside and grabbed Sin by the arm. A grin came over Sins face as he never took his eyes off the figure, the figure that he could see as if it was clear as day. Jaymz pulled him out of the room and locked the door again. With all the shattered lights Sin led the way back with Jaymz keeping a hand on his back for guidance as they left the undisclosed location

Anyone can be ignorant and at times we all are as we make mistakes here or there…But I have come to the conclusion that Derek Von Erick lives his life as ignorant.. Why you ask? Its because of the things that he spouts off in every promo.. Hes comes up with off the wall shit and things that are just plain wrong. ..Mistakes can be excused, but every time you show your face on TV? No, that's when you live your life as ignorant.. ..So where should I start? Well, we’ll start with the fact that Derek Von Erick seemed to have forgotten to set his Tivo to record my first promo; hes runnin around telling everyone that I'm scared because “I haven't shown my face.” I guess that if Erick would pay a little more attention he would have seem that Ive put a promo on TV just two days ago – but he lives in that ignorant world of his and didn't even bother to check and see if I have aired one…well, that was his first mistake. If he cant even pay attention to a TV schedule then how is he going to keep his attention on the match when step into the ring? Is he going to be too busy worrying about the crowds reaction, or how his appearance is on that day? Erick, what is wrong with you? Do you have a selective memory when it comes to this business? Where in the hell do you get off telling me that I'm scared of you? Why would I be scared of you? Wouldn’t it be that I'm confident in my skills going into this match since Crazy J and I have already beat you and your sorryass little friend?

..What is there to be scared of? Your superhuman skills in the ring? Your amazing abilities to forget that we've already had a match? Let me tell you something Erick, your at the bottom of the GWA and that's just the place for you. People don't come to Anarchy to see you, people don't cheer for you and who would want to buy your merchandise? You see Erick, people fill the arena to see Zero Tolerance, they come to see us destroy anyone who dare stand against us in the ring.. And almost every single time the bell rings for the match to begin – were the ones that come out on top. ..but I guess that you didn't learn that the first time did you? Oh, and Erick – spare me the cheezy clichés about David and Goliath because Ive heard it nine thousand times and every single person that has compared themselves to that has come up on the losing end of the match. Come up with something original, something like: how I'm going up against the GWA’s only dyslexic child that they hired to be a wrestler… Yes Erick, that's what I think of you because that's about what your wrestling skills in the ring have shown me. I think its funny how you claim that you can hold me down in the ring or fly all around me – yet, why didn't you do that the first time? Were you just being a sandbagger and waiting for this chance to take my Title from me? You can believe what you like, tell yourself that your better – tell that bitch you hang with about the skills that you possess because she might be the only one that believes you.

I do think that you’re a little obsessed with me though, or just a little jealous of my good looks. You keep on bringing up the scars on my face as if that won the title for me, like Feight fell down on the canvas and I pinned him just because I have scars. ..Not all of these came from these type of matches; the first scars came from my time in the military as I happened to be in a few of the wrong places at the wrong times. My looks don't win these matches for me Erick; and you can call me an overrated Giant or whatever you feel like but the world knows the difference between real talent, me; and wannabes – like you. The world say me put an end to Feights reign as Extreme Champion and now its time they see what I can do when I have to defend it. You just happen to be the unlucky one this week, you get to be the one that I make an example of. “flying high” makes you extreme? So you like to jump off the turnbuckles? That makes you extreme? Please, Erick, stop talking …you make a fool of yourself everytime you open your mouth and don't you see that people laugh at you for saying things like that? Being an Extreme Champion isnt about “flying High”; its about showcasing what you can do in a singles match using outside objects…Its about showing your pain threshold and how much you can take when you own blood is being spilled in the ring. Its about brutally beating someone when they fuck up and taking the advantage.

You don't have a fuckin clue as to what an Extreme Match is about but I guess this will be your first time, and the last time that you stand against the Extreme Champion. So you’re the leader of “ New Extreme Order”…Who do you lead? Hell, I thought it was pointless when Harper called himself the leader of Revolution, but you? ..Your the leader of what? …A tree house? Who do you lead in this group of yours? Fitzgerald? Oh please, that guy is a bigger laugh than you are. But if you were a leader, then wouldn’t you need more than one person to lead? And you can be a Dawg all you want, …for all I care you can be a cat, fish or a fuckin parakeet because in the end it isnt going to make a difference in the outcome of this match. Somehow you managed to get a shot at this title before Hudson and some other people and after this match they’ll be thankful they didn't stand against me in my first ever GWA Extreme Title defense. Erick, you question my moves and my skills, so I suppose that you didn't learn the last time? Your ignorance is showing again as you ask when the last time I used a submission hold… Didn't you see my last match? Didn't you see that I had Feight held up in the air by his neck with one hand – carrying him all over the ring showing him to the world cutting off his air supply? No, I guess you didn't see that and you may not consider that a “submission” hold, but it was…but what does that have to do with anything? Because I don't use submission holds that often makes me “less Extreme?” …How fuckin stupid are you Erick? You bitch about my finisher and how “old” is it, ..

well isnt an Inverted Figure Four old to? Yeah it is, so whats your point? I didn't really see where your going with it other than you WILL feel the Silence an you will see how powerful it is. Erick, all you can do is try and piss me off with your lame attempts at talking shit about everything you can come up with associated with me.. Like Oklahoma. Ok, I was born there – but none of my family is from there, ..so again – whats your point with all the Inbred talk? Was that suppose to be funny? ..for one it wasn't, it was really lame; and also if you want to look at “inbreeding” then you need to step over to West Virginia and that's quite a ways from Oklahoma. But it doesn’t matter Erick, its just you sad attempt to talk shit and piss me off but instead you come off looking like a fool, and even more so when this “Okie” slaughters your sorry ass in the ring come this Anarchy.