The air is rank with the smell of popcorn and beer in the closed in viewing room of the Steve Parke Facility. John Carpenter's Vampires rolls on the viewing terminal set into the wall at the front of the room, and about halfway up the rows of seats, Chad HarZy and Ichabod sit laughing their asses off as if they shared some inside joke that threatened to split their sides. Beer cans litter the floor and there are snacks of every kind all over the trays that the seats are equipped with. The two men are obviously happy over the events that took place on Malice.
Well Chad, I hope you are satisfied with your victory, but it looks like this very week you have to face off against yet another girl. And not only a girl, but a vampyric chick at that. And I have my own vampire to slay this week. Why is it that wrestling these days is fraught with gothic vampire type wrestlers? Can no one be as original as to be just what they are? I mean hell, I don't jump in front of a camera and change myself. What you see is what you get with Ichabod, and I need no smoke or mirrors to make myself look good. But Judas, he uses that good ol' fashioned Hollywood magic to seem immortal, vampyric, and oblivious to pain. Guess what Judas, I was doing the oblivious to pain thing way before you knew what a gimmick was, so get your own gimmick. I'm tired of all these people trying to be me, trying to be what they aren't. Jesus Christ HarZy, what are you doing?
Chad, grinning, begins to speak, but his voice is horribly distorted by the fake vampire teeth he is wearing in his mouth. A slight spot of spittle dribbles down his chin, showing how difficult it is to actually look serious in these kinds of costumes.
I tfryan to geth inthide dah headth uff Chandthra. Ifs I thinkf likfe her, den I know I can beath her. She drinkfs bludth, buth I'm noth efen going to thinkf uff doing thath. You sthee, like you sthaidth, no wonth is orithnginal here. I don'th haf to drinkf bludth to geth inthide her headth. All I haf to thoo is identhify wif abouth haf the ithioths in dis fedth andth I will haf thisth whole gothic gimmick down path. Chandthra, you wanth to be nothithed in dis fedth, iths quithe eathee, sthop being dis gothic bithtch and justh be normal. Unthil then, be prepareth to justh be tothed aroundt like every other gotht perthon who comesth along and acths like they are differenth. Good luck on Sathurday, too, becauth I've dealth with your thype, hell we all haf, andt you are a dime a dothen.
Ichabod nods as the movie ends. He gets up and looks at Chad.
Well, these are hardcore matches, after all, so I think based upon what we have just seen we can easily decide what kinds of weapons to bring.
HarZy takes out the teeth and sets them on a table. He reaches to his right and brings up a bag, patting it with a cocky smile.
Already got you covered, Ichy. Check this out.
HarZy unzips the bag and pulls the items out slowly. Various wooden and metal stakes, crucifixes and crosses, vials of holy water, mini Bibles, church tracts, plenty of silver, and a crossbow with shafts soon litter the floor. Ichabod smiles slightly at the spread, then takes up one of the church tracts. He reads the cover with some interest.
"Ask and ye shall recieve..." Poor Judas, he believes this with all of his heart and yet gets nothing in return. Well Judas, you will get your redemption soon enough. You will be able to finally get your rest at my hands, and God, the Powers-At-Play, and especially Malachi won't be able to stop me. You have no idea what this tournament means to me. Last year I took out everyone that stood in my path until the very end. And I take nothing away from that man, Ti Konflict, because he won like a true champion. But this year, this year Judas, I will be going all the way. I will wear that crown and I will wear it well. I am the only person still around who saw that spectacle, that devestation last year, and I am the only one who truly knows how to prepare for it. So don't be alarmed or feel shortchanged this Saturday when your name is removed from the hat, because I am probably saving you a hell of a lot of humiliation by getting it over with early.
C'mon Ichy, lets go get some training in. Maybe we can watch some old reruns of Buffy and pick up a few new moves for our matches this Saturday.
The two men gather up the items back into the sack and HarZy slings it over his shoulder. Ichabod picks up a remote control and flips off the terminal, leaving the room in total blackness that is only broken briefly when the back door opens and the men slip out. The door opens back up a crack as Ichy steps back in the room to retrieve his beer. Through the darkness you can hear his voice.
Jecht, I know how you feel, lost, but determined to figure it all out. You are in for one hell of a bombshell, my friend. I know everything, but I won't tell you the whole story. I will leave you with this to mull over however... If I want to destroy you, why did I make sure you had the best medical attention, why did I make sure you were nursed back to health, why did I send you literature on the wrestling greats of days gone by? Before long you will realize that this is all one cold calculated game, and you are merely a pawn. Why am I playing? To help Darren? Cheapshots? Myself? All in due time Jecht, all in due time.
The crack of light appears once more and Ichy steps out for good.
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