Avaris, Egypt. Near the start of the sixteenth dynasty.
A circle is outlined in the sand. Men, women, and children in kind all near it edges, their voices forming a dull roar. They stand on boxes and they hold each other skyward, watching, waiting--and above them all, at the very back, the pharaoh sits.
"You know, by now, who he is." Umi's voice comes over the scene, narrating as a distinct figure pushes his way through the crowd. "...But do you wish to know who he was?"
The vantage point obscures the man's face, revealing only that he's gigantic. Stepping into the open circle, he engages a muscular but substantially shorter opponent in physical combat--throwing his enemy with ease, every maneuver eliciting a heightened pitch from the gathered masses.
"The truth is that the answer does not change. He was a warrior. He always has been. Always will be."
The titan drags the exhibition out for the pleasure of the crowd. It's not unlike the wrestling of the modern day, the assembled fanbase screaming his name when at last he stands triumphant.
"That is why I chose him.
...One of the numerous reasons why I chose him."
"A pugilist so beloved by the commoners, they'd have given him the throne. That was the running joke--a playful remark that contorted and mutated as it spread, as these things tend to do. It sounded more earnest, more sincere... more threatening, by the time it reached the ear of the pharaoh."
Inaros is lead in shackles to the pharaoh's chambers. He is held at the point of spears, and forced onto his knees.
"The pharaoh would not be usurped. He would not be surpassed. He would not live in another's shadow, not even in jest. He was vain, but he was not without a sense of humor himself--he made an offer to those that so loved their warrior. Inaros had the strength of at least ten men and thus, was worth ten men. If but ten willing and able men would step forward for their favorite combatant... they could receive punishment in place of Inaros. Their hero would be spared.
Not one man volunteered. Not one among the weak and cowardly took the offer. The people so eager to watch him, to bask in his glory, to live vicariously through his victories... they would not dare give their own worthless lives to save him. They refused. Inaros was betrayed by the populace he'd given so much to entertain."
It takes a literal mob, a small army of the pharaoh's guards to drag him. He fights them the entire way, kicking, punching, shouting--but his destination is unavoidable. He is brought to a chamber deep beneath the earth where, by dim candle light, both tools and ritual are prepared.
"He was accused of treason against the pharaoh, and the pharaoh was a agent of the gods. Thus, what awaited Inaros was the worst of fates, one reserved only for blasphemers--a black malediction, a curse that followed even beyond the grave. He would never truly rest. He could never truly die, only wait in agony between the folds--trapped, perpetually, between this life and the next for all eternity."
His hands are bound. He is forced into the sarcophagus. As one priest begins to read the forbidden rites, another retrieves the first of the tools to be used--a rusted device with which to remove the perpetrator's tongue.
"...Or until someone, leveraging the nature of the curse,
deemed to rescue him."
Las Vegas, Nevada. Today.
She sits, alone, in the back of a limousine. She reclines on rich black leather, a glass half full of gin and Dubbonet cradled in one hand. The frantic lights of a Las Vegas highway soar past her through tinted windows, but the ride is smooth, and a placid smile rests across her lips.
Despite the air of elitism and the professional aura her surroundings exude, Umi isn't dressed for business. Well... not traditional business. She's garbed in her usual ringside attire, tan skin hardly obscured by thin white robes reminiscent of a high priestess'. Gaudy, golden jewelry weighs her down in no short supply. Her long legs are crossed tightly as she leans back... her free hand resting atop the Book of the Dead beside her.
"It seems as though we've made it, Mr. Svarro," she begins. She drags the words out somewhat, but otherwise seems to waste no time in addressing the camera. "The Crown of the King Cobra tournament finals. A position envied by many and a status few can claim, a competitor must truly prove themselves capable to reach these fabled shores. ...Though some prove themselves more than others, don't they?"
The smile heightens, and not in a manner one hopes for.
"On his journey for the Crown, Inaros battled the likes of William Neilson--a boy overflowing with untapped potential, an upstart with the drive and the unmitigated gall to make a mummy bleed. Next, Inaros subdued Andrew Jones de Morales, one of the most talented and prolific practitioners of lucha libre walking this earth. Last, but certainly not least, Inaros defeated Lisa Seldon--a woman who, if I've not miscounted, is a champion in five other promotions and may well be an undiagnosed sociopath."
Umi takes a small sip of her drink. The smile fades, fast and hard.
"But what about you, Mr. Svarro? What obstacles has your road lead you toward? You commenced your little adventure with Danny Colt, a wrestler you admitted to knowing absolutely nothing about, yet still overcame with relative ease. Being generous, one could suggest that you're just that good. Being anything else, one would put the blame squarely on your hapless victim for not measuring up. You followed up by beating Kaelan Laughlin. ...A possessed or perhaps brainwashed Kaelan Laughlin, I'll admit to having trouble keeping up with that sordid affair, but you did still pin her--regardless of context, yes?
And with only a smidgen of assistance from Rachelle LeRoux.
...and a steel chair."
Umi subtly shrugs her shoulders, swirling the glass in her hand. She pauses, if only for effect.
"I can give credit for clever, Mr. Svarro. Being resourceful, doing whatever you deem necessary... that all I can appreciate. Having someone else do everything in your match, however--tsk tsk, Mr. Svarro. Were I a teacher, we'd be discussing this after class. Nonetheless, you advanced to the semi-finals and there awaited your rival of sorts, a foe familiar with your shenanigans in one Finn Whelan. ...A man who, by your admission, has mostly mediocre matches. A man who, in your own words Mr. Svarro, alternates between lengthy vacations and losing streaks, a man who took years to win a single championship. That, that was the greatest test you've faced thus far. That was your next-to-final round."
Umi takes a bolder gulp from her glass before leaning forward, her face almost pressing into the camera's lens. Her gaze narrows, the smile showing no hint of returning.
"Let me be clear, Mikey. I fear whatever outrageous luck has afforded you this success. I fear whatever contract you inked, be it with fey or the devil himself, that has granted you a spot in the finals of this tournament. I fear the possibility that the divine are playing some bewildering prank on Union Battleground, and that you are but the punchline waiting to play out. I fear a number of things, Mr. Svarro, but nowhere on my list is any facet particular to your person. I have absolutely zero concerns regarding you, only the circumstances under which you, YOU of all the pathetic creatures crawling the surface of this world, would be the last thing standing between Inaros and the prize he so rightfully deserves."
She sits back. She takes one last, lengthy drink, finishing the glass... and the limo slowly eases to a halt. Umi, with perhaps less care than one would advise, shoves her emptied container into a nearby cup holder and scoops her book into her arms.
"You're a filthy handed shyster, Mr. Svarro. You're a fly-by-night con artist with a penchant for smelling the right place and predicting the right time. You're a gambler, and like all gamblers you can only win so long as the cards hold out. I'm worried that, at worst, you may end up selling me a timeshare--but your chicanery will not, CANnot steal you a genuine victory, not this round. You pride yourself on mind games--so please. I implore you. I beg you to attempt such foolishness on Inaros. I would delight in seeing how far such an endeavor takes you. Make an effort to get beneath his rotted skin, try your damndest to get into his ancient head. Really put your back into it, Mr. Svarro, it would be the most entertaining moment of your career."
The door is opened for her. Her chauffeur is a large, fit man in a gray suit... and sporting a black silk mask, adorned with a golden Egyptian eye. Another figure accompanies him, almost identical both in attire and in physique. The two of them, with gloved hands, help Umi step gracefully from the vehicle; her high heels click against the pavement as she walks toward a massive casino... a humorously, or perhaps appropriately, 'ancient Egyptian' themed casino. Approaching a reconstruction of a pharaohs' towering tomb (easily 30 stories tall), the men that accompany her hold open the glass front doors. The camera trails just ahead as Umi enters.
"You have said one thing, however, that caught my attention--one single snippet of interest in all the self-serving feculence you've spouted these past months. Union Battleground needs a villain; that was what you told Mr. Whelan. They say that a stopped clock is right twice per day, and in that statement you did seem to stumble across your chosen hour."
Against the casino's backdrop of fake palm trees and plastic sphinxes, Umi doesn't stand out all that much--indeed, her usually anachronistic garb blends in perfectly with the faux Egyptian aesthetic. Nonetheless, she and her masked guards seem to catch the attention of the resident staff. Security, waitresses, and table games dealers alike cast her a nervous glance, watching intently as she passes through the building. She has to practically shout to be heard over the ringing of slot machines, but she manages to maintain a calm demeanor even when raising her voice.
"You may very well, somehow, have a point Mr. Svarro. Union Battleground does need more than simply... a role model, or a hero to aspire to. This tournament has brought out the competitive spirit of some of the greatest wrestlers in the world. The allure of the Crown of the King Cobra has drawn combatants from all walks of life like a moth to the flame, and having watched them... I've judged their best is simply inadequate."
Umi reaches another set of doors, toward the back of the facility. One of her accompanying servants takes out a badge, swiping it by a nearby card reader. They open the doors for Umi, and the three step into a quieter, back-of-house hallway. They continue through the inner workings of the casino.
"All the desire, all the passion in the world could not elevate these mortal men to the level of Inaros. No. They need more than a figurehead to guide them, they need an adversary to push them. They need an impassible mountain, that they may have the chance to climb impossible heights. This business needs a weight beneath which all will rise, stronger and taller than ever before... or be crushed beneath. Those with potential, those with the heart of a fighter will ascend, challengers to something greater. Those without will perish in the sun."
Umi turns, and the guards that flank her push open a last set of large double doors. She makes her way into what looks like a boardroom--a lengthy table positioned down its center, a massive screen at its far end. Umi waits, patiently, as one of her assistants lies flat upon the carpeted floor. The other joins him, sinking to his hands and knees. Umi, high heels and all, walks up their bodies as though they were a staircase for her benefit... using them to nonchalantly climb up onto the long table. Her pace slows, a grin steadily creeping across her face as she walks its length.
"I don't mean you, of course. Union Battleground requires someone more noble, more impressive. You're the wrestling equivalent of a raccoon, combing through the trash under the cover of darkness. No, what this world demands is someone powerful, someone unstoppable, a seven foot tall force of nature unaffected by greed, or ego, or other paltry afflictions of the living mind. Union Battleground is in desperate need of an entity pure, untarnished by petty grudges or soap opera dramatics. The world of wrestling needs, NEEDS someone mythical, a wrestler god-like both in stature and in deed... and a wrestler with someone brilliant in his corner. A manager that knows leadership. A manager with vision. A manager with both authority and vast resources at her disposal."
Umi stops, standing in the dead center of the elongated table. As the camera pans backward, it reveals that the room is packed--executives and pitbosses and shareholders and all other manner of men in collared shirts and neckties... each and every one of them wearing the black mask and the golden eye. They stand up straight, facing her, entranced by her every word. Umi's light smile escalates, twisting into something viler, something sinister.
"How does one afford repeated expeditions to Egypt? How does an individual pay for a crew with which to unearth an ancient tome, and how does she manage to obtain an entire, fully intact and very specific mummy? How does a young woman without so much as a public last name get a relatively unknown wrestler booked in a tournament as prestigious and in demand as the Crown of the King Cobra? Why, she'd need to be a multi-millionaire, at minimum--perhaps a looming silhouette secretly pulling the strings of a major entertainment company. ...If one feels obligated to speculate."
Umi hoists the Book of the Dead high.
Every masked figure in the room, in complete sync, takes a knee.
"Do you understand, Mr. Svarro? You're a huckster, a gambler, and your poker face is commendable... but this particular deck was stacked from the beginning. You lost this tournament the moment I signed Inaros' name to Union Battleground. The house wins, eventually--it always does, and at this juncture... I am the house. On February 24th, for an audience of ten thousand people live and countless more watching at home... your last hand will be dealt, Mr. Svarro, and it will be dealt by Inaros.
What once was can be again."
With identical cadence and perfect timing, at least a dozen voices all throughout the room repeat her in an echoing monotone.
What once was can be again.
Umi lowers the book, her eyes staring deep into the viewer.
"It shall. You are not the antagonist this company so badly seeks, Mr. Svarro.
Post by Mikey Svarro on Feb 19, 2019 23:52:57 GMT -5
"Don't Stop Me Now"
A small flame from a torch lights the scene, but it's ridiculously hard to see anything. You can hear the wind whistling through some kind of corridor, and the sound of insects running up the walls sends shivers right down your spine. A second later, Mikey Svarro's face comes right into the full view, looking terrified. Of course, Svarro isn't decked out in his usual attire of some kind of suit or leisure wear. Instead, he's in some sort of 1920's adventure clothing. Picture Indiana Jones, complete with hat and overalls, white shirt. It's Svarro that's holding the torch, moving along the dusty corridor. As he moves along, you can vaguely make out that the walls actually appear to be made out of dirt. Svarro turns the corner, a crunching sound follows. He makes a disgusted face, bringing the torch to the floor and revealing he's stepped on some sort of roach. A scarab? Well that's beyond strange. Mikey stands up again, bringing his hand a bit too close to the top of the torch, burning his hand.
He drops the torch and the flame quickly goes out, leaving the scene in complete darkness. There's a small whimper, obviously from Svarro himself as he stands there, not knowing what to do. It takes about three seconds, and a few unknown sounds, followed by some flicking. Suddenly the torch is re-ignited. This time, Mikey's face is in full view of the camera. He's not playing up his role anymore, but rather, staring into the lens.
“Oh how far the mighty fall."
He smirks, finding it hard not to let out a chuckle as he continued on down the dirt corridor.
“Seems like just the other day we were starting this tournament, the hype circulating around Crown of the King Cobra, competitors from all around the world coming to try their hand. Let's not be honest here, each person entering thought they stood at least somewhat of a chance, and most thought they'd be able to make it to the end. Even with all the egos around, there were certainly fan favorites, and those that others thought would surely end up in the finals.
But out of all the names upon the list, nobody thought Mikey Svarro would be able to make it to the end. Not even you, Umi, thought that I'd be the one across the ring from Inaros when everything was all said and done. I join you all to have a nice long laugh with me though. Laugh at the fact that I was the one who proved them all wrong, that I was the one telling each and every one of you I'd be standing here. However, nobody chose to listen to me. Instead, you put your faith into names such as Kaelan Laughlin, into a name like Finn Whelan. All to watch them crash and burn. Again, I join you all to laugh along with me, because not only did they crash and burn, but I was the one that took away their chance. The Voice of Wrestling is the one that made sure they weren't going to win in the end. ME!"
Svarro gets a little too excited and yells out the last word, causing an echo that fills the dirt chambers he's walking in. He stops in his tracks, waiting for the echo to stop before continuing.
"Even Lisa Seldon herself was caught saying she could see either Kaelan or Finn getting their hand raised, the Crown of the King Cobra Championship fastened around their waist. But hell no! You're not ever going to see that, and you can go ahead and thank me for that one."
Stroking his chin, "That's why I'm not the least bit frightened to go up against this mummy freak in the finals of Crown of the King Cobra."
He shrugs, brushing his shoulder off. As if he knew the people would be expecting a different reaction out of him.
"Do you understand how many times the deck has been stacked up against me? Do you understand how many times the rest of the world has watched on and expected me to fail? More than anything, I'm positive the rest of Union Battleground is certain that I'm going to shit my pants in the main event on February 24th. I'm going to be looking across the ring at that giant, rotting, carcass and I'm going to be wondering just what the hell I've gotten myself into. Without a doubt, I'm going to have to fight the urge to run, I'm going to have to fight the urge to not burst into tears. Inaros is more than just a scary dude, he's a damn monster. Like a legit monster that really has no place in a wrestling ring but for some reason, UB wants to subject their wrestlers to the craziest shit I've ever seen. NOBODY should be forced to be in a ring with Inaros, or that crazy bitch, Umi, for that matter. This entire thing is straight out of some horror film where I'm supposed to be the next victim! What the hell! There's no way in hell that you'd find me WILLINGLY in a match with that freak of nature..."
A short pause, shaking his head with eyes full of awe.
"But then again, the odds have never been in my favor, have they? I mean, in my mind the odds are ALWAYS in my favor, the the rest of Union Battleground is just too stupid to bet on my side. Sucks for them, because they would have made a shit ton of money by now if they would have just listened to me. I've slid my way to the final round, against some of the biggest names in wrestling today, and you people have the audacity to even think about betting against me? I'm now sitting at a firm five and Oh record within these walls, never once have I been beaten, and each time everyone expected to see me fall.
I've said it before and I'll continue saying it until I'm blue in the face, because you people just don't get it. This business is more than just who can fight the hardest, more than who can outwrestle their opponent. I've always held the belief that we're in the age where intelligence reigns supreme, and Mikey Svarro being in the finals is simple proof of that. Why else would I be the one competing for the Crown of the King Cobra Championship inside Boardwalk Hall?"
He waited, as if he was expecting the someone to answer him, before giving a facial expression as if he had proved someone wrong. Even though we ALL know there ain't nobody around to give him any sort of answer.
"By hook or by crook, that's how it goes, right? Each time I've heard about how the rest of my opponents just don't matter, how they couldn't cut it, so there's a slim chance that Umi isn't going to say the same. A VERY slim chance that Umi isn't going to try discrediting me completely, because most people don't see what I do as skillful. That's fine, Umi can talk all she wants, because I never really listen to her anyway. I just watch those tits bounce up and down as she moves her mouth. That's all she's really going to be good for anyways by the time this tournament is all said and done. She can take her damn book, and shove it right up her ass!"
Svarro sticks his tongue out to the camera, before his smirk turned sly, thinking about Umi's ass.
"Because there's another glaring reason as to why I KNOW I'm going to win that belt. Not only do I consider myself the SMARTEST man in wrestling today, fully capable of outsmarting those two, but we also find ourselves in some sort of blockbuster movie. A fact that ALL other Crown of the King Cobra participants have failed to touch upon.
Don't get me wrong, I fully believe that Inaros is undead. I fully believe that Umi, being the crazy bitch that she is, summoned some dead guy from the depths of Ancient Egypt to do her bidding. Now, why she chose to have him wrestle and attempt to capture a championship is beyond me - but I believe she's just psycho enough to do it. I mean, we HAVE all seen The Mummy franchise right? We all know how vengeful those damn mummys can be!"
Nodding his head up and down, Svarro's tone is hard to pinpoint whether he's being sarcastic or not. Surprisingly, there seems to be hints that he's actually being serious for once.
"But just like the Mummy, just because you're undead doesn't mean that you can not die again. Unfortunately for you Inaros, I happen to be your Brenden Fraser."
CLICK CLICK. The sound is the mechanics within your mind turning and you finally understanding why Mikey is dressed up like Indiana Jones, or, better yet, dressed up like Rick O'Connell. OH SHIT! That's right, Mikey DOES look like he's Rick O'Connell. Of course, the sounds is actually audible, as Svarro steps upon some hidden stone on the bottom of the floor, causing the wall to his right to slide open!
"Now, I'm not talking about that lame ass remake they came out with a couple years ago. I didn't even go see it, I have no clue what kind of significance it really holds within the actual franchise, but y'all know which ones I'm talking about. The REAL Mummy franchise that started in 1999! The one that had The Rock as the Scorpion King in the second one, yeah that one! As you can see, wrestling has held a spot deep within the heart of Ancient Egypt for quite some time. It wouldn't even surprise me if they found out the Olympics actually started in Ancient Egypt, and Inaros was vying for a spot as the top champion. I'd believe it - however, there's always going to be a Rick O'Connell out there to thwart the plans of the Mummy, no matter what the hell they're after. Be that the Crown of the King Cobra Championship, resurrecting his beloved queen, or if you're after my very soul, you're not getting your hands on ANY of them."
Mikey steps into the hidden room, revealing a tomb within the center of the room. There's several torches around the hidden room, giving off more light than we've seen during the entire promo so far. He walks around it slowly, making sure not to step on any more hidden stones within the floor. We're not trying to have a SECOND undead motherfucker wandering around Union. That's for fuckin' sure.
"For those that have no idea what I'm talking about, I'll give you the briefest synopsis possible. The Mummy strides in at the beginning of every movie and spends most of the film claiming any soul he wants. He tears through the roster - of actors - and takes anything and everything he wants. But by the time we're coming to a close, in the last few minutes of the movie when he's finally going to make good on all he's said he'd accomplish - he fails. The Mummy never actually completes what he sets out to do, just as Inaros and Umi may have gone through each competitor to this point, gotten all the way to the finals, only to be thwarted by yours truly."
Without warning, the top of the tomb begins to move a bit, causing Svarro's eyes to shoot open. A second later and the small movement has upgraded to shaking. NOPE, Svarros' not having any of that. He tosses his torch on top of the tomb, before running around the room and tossing down each and every torch in sight. He's trying to burn this mother down!
"You were a formidable duo, a sign of pure evil that struck fear into the hearts of each and every competitor on your side of the bracket, but you were never going to win this one. You may be bigger than me, stronger than me, older than me for sure, but I knew this year was going to be mine for the taking, and that's why I chose THIS year instead of last. The truth is it was over the moment I signed up for this damn thing."
It's clear that he's angered the Egyptian Gods, they're not happy at all! As the fire starts to spread around the tomb, Svarro runs out of the secret room and back down the way he came. The entire place is shaking now, as he sprints down the corridor, rocks falling behind him, closing off the path he came from, and fire engulfing it. As he runs, "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen starts playing in the background.
There's no stoppin' meeee! I'm burnin' through the sky YEAH! 200 degrees that's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit! I'm travelin' at the speed of light! I wanna make a supersonic man outta you! Don't stop me now!...
Svarro baseball slides through the smallest opening as the rocks CRASH from above his head, narrowly missing him, as he slides right out into the light of day!
Now outside, it's easy to see that he was in some sort of large pyramid, that's now on fire. Mikey stands up, brushing himself off from the dirt and chuckling a bit.
"I've done every little thing within my power to make sure it's me who ended up in the finals. I've made it possible for myself to do away with anyone that's stood in my way, and maybe on paper you've got me beat, but I've also proven that means jack SHIT around here. Sure, you've got some sort of power upon your side, but you'd be doing me a disservice to deny that I've obviously got some sort of power upon my side, as well. 'Somehow' I've skated by each time, and even in moment where I've got my ass kicked, I've still walked away with the win when it mattered most. I've got all the momentum I've ever needed, and you're going to fall just like the rest. I didn't enter this thing to fail at the last second, I entered this thing to see it through until the end, even if I've gotta beat a supernatural son of a bitch to do it. Union Battleground needs a scumbag villan to show them the way, to be someone real! I'm not just saying that because you're a mummy, but I'm also saying these role model types are nothing more than fake. Union needs an average person that blurs the lines between right and wrong, not a walking corpse. You may fill people with terror, like Will, AJ, Lisa...but February 24th in front of Atlantic City...and the rest of Union Battleground, Mikey Svarro WILL be your next Crown of the King Cobra Champion!"
He slides a cigarette into his mouth, whipping on his trusty pair of shades, the fight of the pyramid burning down still behind him.
Gunnar Graves: Results up, LO 32 card up, Production Script up. Enjoy!
Feb 24, 2019 23:29:08 GMT -5
Nathan Turner: I'll fill out the feedback tonight 👍
Feb 25, 2019 12:12:32 GMT -5
Nathan Turner: apparently dark purple doesn't work with bbc code, lol
Mar 2, 2019 17:03:10 GMT -5
Cletus Franklin: Okay, I just posted my debut roleplay for Lights Out
Mar 4, 2019 23:25:06 GMT -5
Cletus Franklin: looking forward to the results
Mar 4, 2019 23:25:13 GMT -5
Gunnar Graves: I don’t like being THAT guy, but the sooner we get segments sent in the sooner I can map out the show and get the ball rolling.
Mar 5, 2019 23:08:53 GMT -5
Gunnar Graves: Also, this is the first show in a long time where we didn’t have any no shows! That’s awesome! 👏
Mar 5, 2019 23:09:36 GMT -5
BrotherLavender: Gunnar, I sent you my segment.
Mar 6, 2019 20:08:05 GMT -5
Gunnar Graves: I got it man thank you!
Mar 6, 2019 22:40:54 GMT -5
Gunnar Graves: Was waiting for some final touches on the show last night, but unfortunately still waiting. I’ll have the show and new card up tonight regardless. Sorry for the delay boys and girls
Mar 9, 2019 14:32:28 GMT -5