Strike First
Jul 24, 2022 21:47:20 GMT -5
Plethora the Perilous, Tamika Strader, and 1 more like this
Post by Marcus Welsh on Jul 24, 2022 21:47:20 GMT -5
~We cut to Marcus Welsh seated inside a small motel room in Oklahoma City. He’s alone, leaning back in a chair with his feet propped atop the tiny ‘work’ desk fixed into the wall. He stares at his phone~
“OCW has joined PWA. OCW will air on HOTv! OCW is now aligned with HOW…”
~Welsh slides the video back to the beginning. He watches it over and over and over. He repeats the same three letters several times over~
“HOW” “HOW “HOW” “HOW”
~He tosses his phone over his shoulder. It bounces atop the firm, uncomfortable motel mattress. Welsh swings his legs around and stands, sliding the blinds open, staring out the window into a dark, empty lot. A ‘Dollar General’ sign glitching in the background. A customer walks out, past a homeless dude...he kicks the homeless dude in the face before the bum can hit him up for money. The violence doesn’t bother Welsh~
“eMpire. Invasion. Destruction.”
~He glances down, pressing his forehead against the glass~
“What have we done?”
~Pausing, his mind runs wild. Buyer’s remorse. Second thoughts. There’s no turning back now. It’s too public. It’s too ‘out there’. To back out would result in certain ruin. He looks up, staring at that Dollar General sign and then down at the customer stealing what money the homeless man has on him~
“We need to strike first.”
--------
~Bob Grenier marches through a broken neighborhood in the lower end of Oklahoma City. JAM G follows behind, hands in his pockets. Yelling from one house. Screaming from another. This place is a hellscape. Grenier pauses. He looks down at an address. Most of it is weathered away. But, being a man who’s used to visiting shit holes, he’s able to decipher. This is the place. He kicks the gate open, sending it flying from its hinges~
“C’mon, JAM. This is the place.”
“Uhh, I’ll hang back…”
“The fuck you will. Let’s go.”
~JAM remains hesitant. He hasn’t fully grasped the courage necessary to equal the status of someone like Bob Grenier. They reach the front door of this dilapidated abode. It’d fall to the ground if gravity had more initiative. Grenier shoves the door open and peeks inside. A figure stands in the dark~
“I appreciate the act but it’s a bit much these days, don’t ya think?”
~Grenier pulls out a wad of cash with one hand and clinches his fist with the other. Just in case. The figure steps from the shadows. It’s a familiar face~
“Welsh?”
~Marcus Welsh it is~
“Bob.”
“I knew things were tough but...selling weed in Oklahoma City? Fuck.”
~Welsh rolls his eyes~
“I’m not selling weed, Bob. I’m...I’m selling a deal. I’m offering you fame and the chance at revenge.”
~The fame part doesn’t really interest Bob. The revenge aspect, however...that’s another story~
“You remember HOW?”
~That’s all Welsh has to say. Bob reaches out and grabs JAM G, bringing him up to his side~
“We’re in.”
---------
~It’s Tallahassee, Florida and, yes, it’s fuckin hot. The door to a one-bedroom apartment is wide open, letting nature’s AC breathe some freshness into the stale confines that house one of wrestling’s forgotten monsters. Warrick Hill leans against the doorway, his back to the outside. His eyes on TV, watching porn. He’s got a slice of day-old pizza in his hand, gnawing and chewing away. His apartment rests on the second floor. A cheap prostitute catches him and calls out~
“You bored?”
“Go away, hooker.”
~She shrugs and heads off. Warrick re-enters his shitty apartment, reaching for a room temperature beer before taking a massive piss. A box in the corner of the bathroom, behind the toilet holds all his wrestling trophies and news clippings. The guy still gives a shit. His phone rings. He grumbles, reaching into his board shorts, removing a flip phone~
“Yea.”
~Warrick nods. The voice on the other end sounds like Marcus Welsh~
“Me? Oh, I’m great. Never better.”
~He listens some more~
“Wait...hold up. Did you say HOW?”
~His demeanor changes. The previously flippant exterior gives way to something more sinister. Staring into the box of trophies, he sees an old HOW contract with what appears to be piss staining the pages~
“One condition.”
~Warrick waits for an objection. The voice on the other end offers none~
“My brother. He owes me.”
~Warrick nods. He clips his phone shut, pulls his shorts up, and flushes~
--------
~The Woods of Elderdom. A place where eager larpers can pretend to do magical things. We sort our way through the foliage and quiet until a voice corrupts. Following its trail, we reach THE WIZARD. He’s standing, preaching his words of WIZARDLY advice to a group of younger people...all over 18, of course~
“Now, you younglings. Listen to my magical words and prepare thyselves for the grandest of journeys for the Woods of Elderdom is full of tricks and treasure!”
~His hat is big and goofy. His beard is obviously fake and shitty. But what isn’t phony, what isn’t stupid is his 6’9 height and 300+ frame. He’s a big, menacing body handled by a fantasy nerd~
“And now, repeat after me...the night is dark and full…”
“Clarence!”
~A break in the ridiculously stupid teachings of The Wizard. The students turn and stare. The Wizard raises the brim of his giant hat, his eyes peering into the woods~
“Who dare interrupteth these divine teachings and speaketh that name? I AM THE WIZARD!”
“Yea, and I’m Captain Kirk from Star Wars.”
~One of the students takes offense~
“That’s so wrong on so many levels...you see…”
~Warrick kicks the guy in the face, knocking him out. The rest scramble. The Wizard, despite standing nearly half a foot taller, looks down at his older brother, fear in his eyes~
“Warrick.”
“Bro, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Mom should have laid off the fuckin drugs when you were in her stomach.”
“Why are you here?”
“I need you.”
“Yea? Well, I’m busy, as you can see...I’ve got to take this youngling to the hospital. You probably fractured his face.”
“Cool. Let someone else do that. Because what we’re about do is, like, way more important.”
“Pass.”
“You owe me.”
~The Wizard does not object. Instead, he gives Warrick that ‘oh shit’ look~
“Yep, all that money I sank into your stupid movie that never finished production? Yea, you’re gonna get all that back for me.”
“What do you need me to do.”
~The Wizard relents. A debt is a debt~
---------
~Monday night. Marcus Welsh stands with Bob Grenier and JAM G in a packed parking lot. The noise of hustle and excitement bubbles behind them. Bob’s finishing off a fat joint of the Grenier Kush while JAM G waits around, anxiously~
“They’re late.”
“Relax. They’re coming.”
~Welsh does his best to keep the irritable Grenier relaxed. A van pulls up. It’s white and it’s weird. It parks near Welsh. The doors open and out step Warrick and The Wizard~
“Could you have picked something creepier?”
~Bob mocks the van~
“Is this what passes for ‘talent’ these days?”
~Warrick returns, getting in Grenier’s face. JAM and Wizard hold their respective allies back. Welsh interrupts the tension~
“Guys, save that energy for the common enemy. We’re all here for one goal. One purpose. To pay back a debt. To get some revenge.”
~Bob looks at Warrick. Warrick back at Bob. They bump fists. A common enemy can make friends out of just about anyone~
“Great. Now, let’s get to work.”
~Welsh leads the four men toward the noise. Our view pans out to reveal the HOW logo plastered across a venue in Tulsa, Oklahoma~
---------------
Sunday Evening. HOW's Chaos
THE BEST ENDING
Byrd immediately jumps up and turns immediately towards the entrance ramp along with the rest of the crowd as they hear the GOD of HOW’s theme song hitting the PA entrance.
Clay looks around him and the cameras capture as we see the EPU surround the ring.
Joe Hoffman: There is literally NO WHERE for Kostoff to escape here. The EPU have the ring surrounded. We know Kostoff is NOT under a mask as he is literally still lying in the middle of the ring. Man oh man I would hate to be Kostoff right now.
UNDEAD continues to play on the PA but there is still no sight of the GOD of HOW.
Joe Hoffman: Wait….what is going on here?
Very quickly four members of the EPU slide into the ring and surround Kostoff….and inadvertently….Clay Byrd.
The HOTv champion turns and sees that he is caught in the middle of the EPU men.
With UNDEAD continuing to play over the PA system the EPU jump into motion.
The four men DO NOT attack Kostoff but instead go directly for the HOTv Champion. The member of the Highwaymen quickly knocks two of the men off of him and then a second wave of EPU agents rush into the ring and begin beating down Byrd.
The crowd erupts into cheers as cameras quickly pivot to show Bergman, Solex and Harrison all rushing down the entrance ramp.
They are quickly cut off by several members of the EPU and they begin brawling on the entrance ramp.
Back in the ring we see one of the agents lift Byrd up with the help of some other EPU agents and he drives Byrd down hard to the canvas with a musclebuster.
Four members of the EPU stand tall over Byrd as we turn back towards the entrance ramp where we see the Highwaymen start to get the upper hand on the EPU but that is short lived.
WHACK
WHACK
WHACK
Joe Hoffman: THE BOARD!!!!!!!!
Stronk, Jace and America stand tall over the fallen Highwaymen….dented steel chairs in their hands.
We see them smiling and they point towards the ring.
The EPU agents slowly take off their helmets and the crowd is immediately in shock.
Joe Hoffman: BOB GRENEIR. JAM G. WARRICK HILL. THE WIZARD. OCW JUST TOOK OUT OUR HIGH OCTANE TELEVISION CHAMPION AND THE BOARD JUST LAID WASTE TO THE HIGHWAYMEN AND WE ARE OUTTA TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The screen goes to black as we see the Board and OCW smiling at each other as they stand tall.
“OCW has joined PWA. OCW will air on HOTv! OCW is now aligned with HOW…”
~Welsh slides the video back to the beginning. He watches it over and over and over. He repeats the same three letters several times over~
“HOW” “HOW “HOW” “HOW”
~He tosses his phone over his shoulder. It bounces atop the firm, uncomfortable motel mattress. Welsh swings his legs around and stands, sliding the blinds open, staring out the window into a dark, empty lot. A ‘Dollar General’ sign glitching in the background. A customer walks out, past a homeless dude...he kicks the homeless dude in the face before the bum can hit him up for money. The violence doesn’t bother Welsh~
“eMpire. Invasion. Destruction.”
~He glances down, pressing his forehead against the glass~
“What have we done?”
~Pausing, his mind runs wild. Buyer’s remorse. Second thoughts. There’s no turning back now. It’s too public. It’s too ‘out there’. To back out would result in certain ruin. He looks up, staring at that Dollar General sign and then down at the customer stealing what money the homeless man has on him~
“We need to strike first.”
--------
~Bob Grenier marches through a broken neighborhood in the lower end of Oklahoma City. JAM G follows behind, hands in his pockets. Yelling from one house. Screaming from another. This place is a hellscape. Grenier pauses. He looks down at an address. Most of it is weathered away. But, being a man who’s used to visiting shit holes, he’s able to decipher. This is the place. He kicks the gate open, sending it flying from its hinges~
“C’mon, JAM. This is the place.”
“Uhh, I’ll hang back…”
“The fuck you will. Let’s go.”
~JAM remains hesitant. He hasn’t fully grasped the courage necessary to equal the status of someone like Bob Grenier. They reach the front door of this dilapidated abode. It’d fall to the ground if gravity had more initiative. Grenier shoves the door open and peeks inside. A figure stands in the dark~
“I appreciate the act but it’s a bit much these days, don’t ya think?”
~Grenier pulls out a wad of cash with one hand and clinches his fist with the other. Just in case. The figure steps from the shadows. It’s a familiar face~
“Welsh?”
~Marcus Welsh it is~
“Bob.”
“I knew things were tough but...selling weed in Oklahoma City? Fuck.”
~Welsh rolls his eyes~
“I’m not selling weed, Bob. I’m...I’m selling a deal. I’m offering you fame and the chance at revenge.”
~The fame part doesn’t really interest Bob. The revenge aspect, however...that’s another story~
“You remember HOW?”
~That’s all Welsh has to say. Bob reaches out and grabs JAM G, bringing him up to his side~
“We’re in.”
---------
~It’s Tallahassee, Florida and, yes, it’s fuckin hot. The door to a one-bedroom apartment is wide open, letting nature’s AC breathe some freshness into the stale confines that house one of wrestling’s forgotten monsters. Warrick Hill leans against the doorway, his back to the outside. His eyes on TV, watching porn. He’s got a slice of day-old pizza in his hand, gnawing and chewing away. His apartment rests on the second floor. A cheap prostitute catches him and calls out~
“You bored?”
“Go away, hooker.”
~She shrugs and heads off. Warrick re-enters his shitty apartment, reaching for a room temperature beer before taking a massive piss. A box in the corner of the bathroom, behind the toilet holds all his wrestling trophies and news clippings. The guy still gives a shit. His phone rings. He grumbles, reaching into his board shorts, removing a flip phone~
“Yea.”
~Warrick nods. The voice on the other end sounds like Marcus Welsh~
“Me? Oh, I’m great. Never better.”
~He listens some more~
“Wait...hold up. Did you say HOW?”
~His demeanor changes. The previously flippant exterior gives way to something more sinister. Staring into the box of trophies, he sees an old HOW contract with what appears to be piss staining the pages~
“One condition.”
~Warrick waits for an objection. The voice on the other end offers none~
“My brother. He owes me.”
~Warrick nods. He clips his phone shut, pulls his shorts up, and flushes~
--------
~The Woods of Elderdom. A place where eager larpers can pretend to do magical things. We sort our way through the foliage and quiet until a voice corrupts. Following its trail, we reach THE WIZARD. He’s standing, preaching his words of WIZARDLY advice to a group of younger people...all over 18, of course~
“Now, you younglings. Listen to my magical words and prepare thyselves for the grandest of journeys for the Woods of Elderdom is full of tricks and treasure!”
~His hat is big and goofy. His beard is obviously fake and shitty. But what isn’t phony, what isn’t stupid is his 6’9 height and 300+ frame. He’s a big, menacing body handled by a fantasy nerd~
“And now, repeat after me...the night is dark and full…”
“Clarence!”
~A break in the ridiculously stupid teachings of The Wizard. The students turn and stare. The Wizard raises the brim of his giant hat, his eyes peering into the woods~
“Who dare interrupteth these divine teachings and speaketh that name? I AM THE WIZARD!”
“Yea, and I’m Captain Kirk from Star Wars.”
~One of the students takes offense~
“That’s so wrong on so many levels...you see…”
~Warrick kicks the guy in the face, knocking him out. The rest scramble. The Wizard, despite standing nearly half a foot taller, looks down at his older brother, fear in his eyes~
“Warrick.”
“Bro, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Mom should have laid off the fuckin drugs when you were in her stomach.”
“Why are you here?”
“I need you.”
“Yea? Well, I’m busy, as you can see...I’ve got to take this youngling to the hospital. You probably fractured his face.”
“Cool. Let someone else do that. Because what we’re about do is, like, way more important.”
“Pass.”
“You owe me.”
~The Wizard does not object. Instead, he gives Warrick that ‘oh shit’ look~
“Yep, all that money I sank into your stupid movie that never finished production? Yea, you’re gonna get all that back for me.”
“What do you need me to do.”
~The Wizard relents. A debt is a debt~
---------
~Monday night. Marcus Welsh stands with Bob Grenier and JAM G in a packed parking lot. The noise of hustle and excitement bubbles behind them. Bob’s finishing off a fat joint of the Grenier Kush while JAM G waits around, anxiously~
“They’re late.”
“Relax. They’re coming.”
~Welsh does his best to keep the irritable Grenier relaxed. A van pulls up. It’s white and it’s weird. It parks near Welsh. The doors open and out step Warrick and The Wizard~
“Could you have picked something creepier?”
~Bob mocks the van~
“Is this what passes for ‘talent’ these days?”
~Warrick returns, getting in Grenier’s face. JAM and Wizard hold their respective allies back. Welsh interrupts the tension~
“Guys, save that energy for the common enemy. We’re all here for one goal. One purpose. To pay back a debt. To get some revenge.”
~Bob looks at Warrick. Warrick back at Bob. They bump fists. A common enemy can make friends out of just about anyone~
“Great. Now, let’s get to work.”
~Welsh leads the four men toward the noise. Our view pans out to reveal the HOW logo plastered across a venue in Tulsa, Oklahoma~
---------------
Sunday Evening. HOW's Chaos
THE BEST ENDING
Byrd immediately jumps up and turns immediately towards the entrance ramp along with the rest of the crowd as they hear the GOD of HOW’s theme song hitting the PA entrance.
Clay looks around him and the cameras capture as we see the EPU surround the ring.
Joe Hoffman: There is literally NO WHERE for Kostoff to escape here. The EPU have the ring surrounded. We know Kostoff is NOT under a mask as he is literally still lying in the middle of the ring. Man oh man I would hate to be Kostoff right now.
UNDEAD continues to play on the PA but there is still no sight of the GOD of HOW.
Joe Hoffman: Wait….what is going on here?
Very quickly four members of the EPU slide into the ring and surround Kostoff….and inadvertently….Clay Byrd.
The HOTv champion turns and sees that he is caught in the middle of the EPU men.
With UNDEAD continuing to play over the PA system the EPU jump into motion.
The four men DO NOT attack Kostoff but instead go directly for the HOTv Champion. The member of the Highwaymen quickly knocks two of the men off of him and then a second wave of EPU agents rush into the ring and begin beating down Byrd.
The crowd erupts into cheers as cameras quickly pivot to show Bergman, Solex and Harrison all rushing down the entrance ramp.
They are quickly cut off by several members of the EPU and they begin brawling on the entrance ramp.
Back in the ring we see one of the agents lift Byrd up with the help of some other EPU agents and he drives Byrd down hard to the canvas with a musclebuster.
Four members of the EPU stand tall over Byrd as we turn back towards the entrance ramp where we see the Highwaymen start to get the upper hand on the EPU but that is short lived.
WHACK
WHACK
WHACK
Joe Hoffman: THE BOARD!!!!!!!!
Stronk, Jace and America stand tall over the fallen Highwaymen….dented steel chairs in their hands.
We see them smiling and they point towards the ring.
The EPU agents slowly take off their helmets and the crowd is immediately in shock.
Joe Hoffman: BOB GRENEIR. JAM G. WARRICK HILL. THE WIZARD. OCW JUST TOOK OUT OUR HIGH OCTANE TELEVISION CHAMPION AND THE BOARD JUST LAID WASTE TO THE HIGHWAYMEN AND WE ARE OUTTA TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The screen goes to black as we see the Board and OCW smiling at each other as they stand tall.
