LORD OF THE RING: IMPACT BATTLE 2005
November 6 & 7, 11:54 PM to 12:16 AM
We find Josh Carter standing outside the Azadi Stadium, the site of XWF Lord of the Ring 2005. Two men dressed informally block his entrance and begin shouting at him in a native language as he hangs his head in dismay. He turns away and punches a nearby wall, as well as kicking dust into the air.
"PSYKOTIC": Are you effing kidding me!? These mutated baboons won't even let me into this damned arena. I need to scout my friggin' surroundings for when I own the Impact Roster. Nothing, I mean nothing is going to stop me, but these two fuckups think THEY can!? That's BS, man.
Tehran Man: Sir, you need pass to get into arena. We let no strange person into the arena. Please show pass and enter.
"PSYKOTIC": Dude, do you know who I am? I'm "PSYKOTIC" JOSH CARTER, an XWF superstar! And you're some dirt fuck trying to restrict my access to this place? On NOVEMBER 27, I WILL OWN THIS PLACE, dude! XWF...Lord....of....The...Ring...
Tehran Man: Oh! You XWF man. You get in. Enter.
"PSYKOTIC": Thank GOD.
Josh Carter enters through the pathway and emerges from the other side in a vast, open arena full of seats from the ground up. He stares ahead of him as he envisions the Lord of the Ring stage, the set, the ring and the wrestlers inside. He walks forward to the center of the open floor and raises his arms. Dropping them after inhaling the Azadi Stadium air, he puts his hands in his pockets. The camera tightens in on him as his gaze shifts to the lens.
"PSYKOTIC": Iran. Never been here. All I know is, it's a letter off from Iraq. This place has been awesome so far. And this arena is quite possibly the pinnacle of the sporting world here in Iran. Dozens of events go down here each year, of which I have no idea about. But I'm sure it's a great place. But let me tell you about a place I love. Me. Not these Irans, not the Scots, and not the Irish. I love AMERICA. The good old red, white, and blue. I've been away from home for too long and it's become tiresome. The same roads traveled every day until it's time for a new country. Nothing like AMERICA, where every city is diverse and no road is like another. I was born in AMERICA, raised in AMERICA, and by God I hope to DIE in AMERICA. Sure, I'm standing in the middle of a sporting venue in Iran, but dammit I'm entitled to an opinion. No country in the WORLD matches the prestige of the USA. I'm not keen on the exact date, but by the time XWF programming returns to the United States of AMERICA, Josh Carter will either be on ANARCHY or he'll be the Television Champion. Dig that, bitch.
Two Tehran men close in on Josh Carter, with curious looks on their faces. Josh finds a curious look of his own, slowly removing his hands from his jacket pockets.
"PSYKOTIC": Hold up, dudes. Why the hell are you getting so close to me? I didn't do a damn thing wrong and you know it. So please get your AKs and shoot at some other white guy. Please.
Tehran Man 1: Sir, we just want autograph. You big XWF star, yes?
Tehran Man 2: Yes. You big in wrestling. You beat DOCTOR BADD and PROTOTYPE, and next week you beat JENSEN KENT. Do beat JENSEN KENT we no like.
Josh stares at them and backs away slowly. He pulls out a sharpie and a picture of himself (*The Hell?*) and autographs it, handing it to the first Tehran Man. He smirks, slowly backing away before sprinting to the stairwell between the seats of the arena.
"PSYKOTIC": Jesus they scared me. Notice, I used JESUS and not ALLAH. Because I'm from AMERICA. That's how we roll. Nothing is more exhilarating than fighting in front of thousands and thousands of people in your home city, state, country, whatever. My HOME is AMERICA and I plan to keep it there. So be ready, AMERICA, I know you're watching. When "PSYKOTIC" steps on AMERICAN soil again, it will be a spectacle. I could ramble about AMERICA for days but I won't. I need to focus on Lord of the Ring. Granted I won't be in this year's big match, but I sure as hell will be fighting to get into the big leagues. A shot at ANARCHY is the prize on the line here for the IMPACT LOTR contest. Something I thought I'd never even hear in the same sentence as my name is ANARCHY. That used to be the flagship show but ever since the brand reformation, I think it's become just something to bide the time on Thursday Nights. But if I can win this thing and move to ANARCHY, you can rest assured that I will no longer linger in the ring and just trapse around like an old dog, but I'll fight like a polished hammer, a well-oiled machine, hell, I'll take it to the big names. But there is one man I'd like to face. MR. AMAZING, VINCENT JAMISON. I know you're a well-seasoned wrestler in XWF, but every dog has to die someday. Maybe I'll be the one to do it for you. You're an awesome wrestler but I think I could bring myself to equivalency with you. But enough about that...
Josh Carter has reached the top of the arena stairwell, and now sees a small gathering of people below, some already scaling the steps to reach him. He shakes his head and runs down the aisle, skipping over rows of chairs as he made his way east through the arena seating. He found himself cut off as two more people appeared at both possible exits. He slumps down in a nearby chair and rubs his forehead.
"PSYKOTIC": See, AMERICANS don't do this. AMERICANS ask nicely for an autograph or a photo with you. But no, these foreigners, they all storm you like a fresh meal, because they don't get many of those either. Maybe if one of these kooks had asked me I'd have gladly given, but no, they have to try and TAKE. And THAT PISSES ME OFF. I can't wait to return to home soil where the green grass stays green and Uncle Sam points at you all the time. It's about freakin' time we left these foreign countries of poverty and returned to the lap of luxury in AMERICA. And although it might not be soon, it'll be a HELL of a Homecoming. So peace. I'm JOSH CARTER, your #1 FAN CHOICE for the WINNER of the IMPACT LOTR CONTEST.
The group of Iranians gather around Josh, but just as soon as they do a few stumble to the ground and Josh begins jumping aisles and stepping over the backs of chairs to get to the floor of the arena. Four guards begin yelling in a foreign language and gunshots are heard. Josh whistles loudly and barrels through the two Tehran men he got past earlier, as they pull out pistols and fire at him. Josh hops on the dirtbike he used to get here, but cannot get it fired up. More gunshots and Josh winces in pain as a bullet pierces his left ankle. Three more shots, followed by the sound of a dirtbike engine and Josh burns rubber, flipping the Tehran/Iranian people off before squealing his tires again. The LORD OF THE RING logo graces the screen as it fades to black.
