[Alexagogo]

Singles Match
Scott Nash Strader vs. Lucious Starr
Special Guest Referee Meghan Nash Strader

[andre]

Hair of the Dog




Last part off camera.



Malibu, California

[The scene opens in Malibu, on a beautiful beach front house. Three motorcycles are in the drive-way shaded by palm trees. One is Scott Nash Strader’s, the other two unknown at this second. Strader steps out the front door and is followed by two men. One man standing maybe about 6’5 wearing the infamous Mongols MC vest, moves over to a vacant Harley. The other man, a bit shorter at 5’9, but built like a brick shit house, moves over to the other and his vest is that of the Outlaw MC. Strader gives them a boy scout salute as they roar off out of Malibu. Strader looks over at a black Ford Crown Victoria parked down the street and gives it the finger before moving back inside. We flip to the inside. It’s much like Charlie Harper’s house, but is darker, with Bandido paraphernalia on the walls. Strader steps outside onto his back deck and looks out at the Pacific Ocean bouncing up on the shore. The sun is beginning to set.

Strader is dressed in his normal attire of black boots, blue jeans, his denim Bandido vest, and a black long sleeved t-shirt that reads “God forgives, Bandido’s don’t” on the front. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it up with the snap of his fingers that were holding a match book. The sweet sickly smell of sulfur enters Scott’s senses as he takes a deep drag. He exhales at the camera, as Harold holds it steady. Scott runs his left hand through his long blonde hair and smiles through his heavy five o’clock shadow.]

SNS: “It’s been awhile since Harold here has recorded a rant of the one and only Scott Nash Strader. I’ve got to say, I’ve kind of missed it you know. Coming out here every week and tearing some idiot a new asshole. Win or lose, I always made sure the prick or cunt had a mark to remember me by. When you look at Engel’s back, you remember when I pressed him up against the burning cage at London’s Burning. Look at the PWA’s World Champion… I’m responsible for at least half a dozen of her scars. Although the integrity scar Riona recently got goes to Stripper Extraordinaire Marina Blue. ”

“I could go on and on through the all-time roster, but right now my focus is upon this group that calls themselves The Order of Chaos. Every member of that God forsaken stable is on my hit list. Mazakazu and Maya were the first to feel my wrath. I went easy on them Kalis, can’t say my girls will as well, but if they step out line again in my war path towards you I will permanently end their careers. Next on my docket though is Shadow Starr.”

“A name like Lucious belongs on a guy like Morgan Freeman, or maybe even Ledge. You’re not the caliber that either of these men has set. You are the gum on the bottom of my boot. You are the dog shit the fat bald guy picks up while walking his shiatsu. You’re nothing but a whining bitch. When’s the last time you won a fucking match? Wasn’t it against Jacob Collins of all people? I mean my daughters have kicked your ass so many damn times over the past almost hundred days of their glorious tag team title run it’s got to start to bring your confidence level down. Even your run with Viktor Stone didn’t last near as long as my girls have.”

[A drag and a slow exhale through the nostrils.]

SNS: “You haven’t beaten a Strader yet, including my dear cousin Bronx Williams. You never will, and your losing streak continues this week when we go one on one. You know it, I know it. I requested this match from the other Board of Directors, and they were all too happy to oblige when I said I would payroll the Advertising and Marketing department for the rest of the year. See no matter how much more you think you have then me you’re an even bigger idiot then thought.”

“Not only am I the executor of estate to the entire Strader empire, I also am the owner of LAS Entertainment the largest hip hop and rap record company in North America and Europe. Would a racist be a part of such a thing? Naw I didn’t think so. Also, my time in Columbia also really helped the unlimited amount of money in my bank account.”

“Shadow, you decided after trying to cheat my daughters out of a win to brutally attack my daughter Meghan. What did you think that outcome would be? Fairies and Sugar Plums out of my ass?”

[Another drag and exhale. Scott grabs a MGD from an ice bucket beside him. He pops the top using the railing. He takes a drink, and continues on.]

SNS: “You are going to be a great warm up for when I face your almighty leader. See you’ve pissed off so many people Shadow Starr. You went and pissed all over the place. My family, my friend Lisa Seldon, and countless others and you will pay. When I’m done with your sorry ass, Danielson is next. He’ll get the chance to get ready for me after he sees what I’m going to do to you, and maybe get the fuck out of dodge before it’s his turn.”

“After you two… it’s Simon Kalis.”

[Scott takes another swig and sets the beer on the railing of his deck. He slides his left hand across his chest under his right arm. He smokes with his right.]

SNS: “Kalis. It’s truly amazing how you can make yourself look like an uneducated fool. You call me a racist prick, yet its widely documented my best friend is a black man by the name of Makaveli The Don. Another close friend of mine, Staff Sergeant Steele is also a black man. I don’t view men by race you arrogant fuck, I view them by their worth, and you are a failed government project and general waste of skin. Apparently other non-brainwashed Kalis’ think this as well.”

“You’re also a fucking hypocrite. You go to say “Scott has his Bandido’s, I have my nigga’s mother fucker”, then I let you know I will be ready for your gang banging lowlife Compton scum, and you proclaim temporary peace. Some of my brothers yes, believe white rules. Others don’t. The three motorcycle clubs that WILL be in attendance on Monday have members of the Hispanic race. We’re sorry if your too media indulged with your views on, but do some thinking before you speak you fucking idiot. Don’t write a cheque your ass can’t cash.”

“I was raised in London, Ontario Canada. While you were entering kindergarten, I was working for the A.o.A. snapping necks and taking names. Claim your balls deep, claim you’re the toughest son of a bitch there is. Remember when Matthew Engel tried to have me put away in the states, but they had to extradite me to Canada? That’s because I’m a bad man Simon. I gave up my diplomatic immunity after I iced that little snitch in Prison while serving out that bullshit sentence that got me there in the first place. Now I plan all worldwide bike runs as the National Road Captain, and am the President of the Washington Nomad Chapter.”

“Another thing Simon, maybe you should do a little research on me and my wives. My oldest child Meghan, her mother died at birth. Elizabeth and I were twenty year old lovers, and she left us too early. Then my beautiful my twins, Tamika and John’s mother just passed recently from battling breast cancer. My first wife died trying to save mine and my brother Payton’s, lives and ended up getting killed in the process by the woman Meghan just took out of active competition at Out of Control. I’ve done my grieving Simon. I accepted the fates of the women in my life.”

“A tombstone? It’s nothing but a material item. It’s not your dead wife. Your wife’s memory is what you make of it Kalis, not what someone sells at a funeral home. My wife Amy? She’s been gone for a long time now but I don’t need material things to remember her. I have my love for her. Same with Lisa. I miss both my wives Kalis. On the same token, if one of your gangbanging butt buddies even breathes on my girls, or even in my direction… I will find the most tragic gangbanger you got, and end his life. Then there will be bloodshed. Also, make sure to keep your should’ve been aborted children and Hell & High Water in line.”

[Scott takes a final drag before flicking his cigarette away.]

SNS: “Come Rampage, yes that’s right I said Rampage bitch, you’re gonna see why your messing with a son of a bitch. Don’t believe me? My mother would eat you alive.”

[Scott motions for the camera to stop rolling. Scott hands a roll of fifties to Harold, who skips off quite happily. A big man comes out around the corner and we see it’s the Nomad Vice President Rocket. Rocket looks at Strader as he cracks open a beer for himself.]

SNS: “How are the boys handling the alliance with the Mongols and Outlaws?”

Rocket: “As long as it’s not Red & White they are down for whatever it takes.”

[Strader nods as he lights another cigarette.]

SNS: “The strength of this alliance will weaken once Kalis is taken care of, I promise that. Plus El Presidente will only allow this for so long.”

Rocket: “Whatever happens boss, us brothers are behind you.”

[Strader tips his beer bottle towards Rocket, as they clank the necks of the bottles together.]

[Lucious Starr]

Viktor Stone got it. Meghan Nash Strader got it. And last week, Mark “Chamelion” Sommers even got it. This week, the legendary Scott Nash Strader gets the one thing few have had the displeasure of experiencing: complete and utter destruction.

The scene fades in on the image of the Order of Chaos flag, draped casually over a desecrated wall. We have a very short view of the entire scene, which does not yet reveal the identity of the voice. The camera pans a bit each way, but does not find the source at it continues.

Scott Nash Strader. Simon Kalis tried to bring you back with threats, and Jethro Hayes tried using respect. But I never wanted to bring you back. I never intended on bringing a washed-up piece of trash like you back into the federation that the Order is working so hard to bring back to glory. I never wanted to push some old has-been to the point that he feels he must drop his cane long enough to try and look tough against me. But since your little girls can’t defend themselves, I suppose that’s what I am forced to accept; that no matter who it is you came to face, I am the one responsible for your return to the ring. Simon, forgive me, my friend. This was never my intention.

As we continue searching our short view for the source of the voice, a figure walks onto the set. We first see the form of a lead pipe, then the hand holding it, and finally the full form of Lucious Starr as he enters, wearing a sickening grin upon his face. He sits on a lounge chair, tilting back a bit as he taps his free hand with the pipe.

Scott, I trust you have been watching us since your leave of PWA. I’m sure you saw the annihilation of one Viktor Stone at Who’s The Man?, and his subsequent departure of the PWA. I’m positive that you watched as I utterly obliterated Laura Estella’s leg at Out Of Control, and placed her on the injured list. I am happy to know that you watched as I took this very pipe I hold now, raise it high over my head, and drop it onto your poor little girl’s head. And I take pride in how I uncovered that turnbuckle, lifting Meghan onto my shoulders, and dropped her face-first into that turnbuckle with the Hell’s Wrath. And last week, Strader… last week, Mark Sommers made the mistake of crossing me. Last week, Chamelion had the nerve to tell me I would not be receiving my World Championship opportunity at the Summer Sizzler. Well, it turns out he was right: I won’t receive my title shot as long as he’s around to stop me. This is why I made DAMN sure that he wouldn’t be around to stop me. I beat the hell out of Mark Sommers with this same pipe, and that power crazed bastard will be in the hospital far beyond my title win at the Sizzler. But you want to come at me this week, try to tear my opportunity away from me, and take vengeance for your precious little girl. Unfortunately, Mr. Strader, I am not one to be fucked with. Viktor Stone fucked with me, and I beat him to a point where he was forced to leave the business. Laura Estella fucked with me, and I put her on the injured list. Lisa Seldon fucked with me, and now she has the most twisted, determined son of a bitch in the business breathing down her neck as her superior. Meghan and Tamika fucked with me, and look what happened to Meghan. And Mark Sommers, the Chamelion, fucked with me. And he, much like Laura, is now on the injured list until God knows when, and when he returns, I will be more than happy to throw the World Championship in his face.

Lucious stops for a moment, allowing all this to sink in. He takes a deep breath as he ponders, turning to the camera as he prepares to continue.

I have been screwed over more times than I care to have been. Throwing me into a handicap match and making it no-DQ is going to be a piece of cake. And I understand that Meghan is SUPPOSED to be a fair and balanced referee for this match, but… well, after that shot I gave her a few weeks back, she’s anything but balanced now. So allow me to fill you in on exactly what’s going to happen, Scott. I’m going to step into that ring this week against an old, washed-up piece of Mexican garbage. I’m going to take this lead pipe and blow your last good knee out. Then, when Meghan tries to save you, I’m going to give her yet another shot to the head, this time she won’t be so lucky to appear at the next show for an interview. And when another official is forced to come to ringside to stop my annihilation of the both of you, I’ll take the time to drop one foot onto your chest, smirking with pride as he counts…

1…

2…

3…

And I will reign victorious over not one, but two Straders at Chaos. And all the while, you and Meghan will be forced to deal with the fact that two Straders didn’t have the power to overcome the single most exciting superstar on the roster. It is when you both wake up in the hospital, your beds side-by-side, wondering what the hell hit you, when you will realize that you will both be lucky to walk again, let alone wrestle.

Lucious looks dead into the camera, a grim look in his face. He breathes deeply as the camera closes in on his face, the ferocity in his tone like none heard before.

Chamelion thought this was some kind of game, Strader, and he ended up in the hospital. You are making a mistake by requesting this match, and you are looking at possibly the most heinous of any beating I’ve dished out yet. You will not make it out of Chaos on your own legs, Strader, I promise you that. And if I am kind enough to leave anything of you for Kalis at the Sizzler, you’d better believe it will be just enough to punish you further. This is not the place for you or your little fuck buddies, Scott. This is not the time. What this is, Scott, is the moment that the fans have been waiting to pass in the Age of Chaos. The greatest talents of their time, colliding in the ring, looking for supremacy. Unfortunately, old man, you are well past your prime and far too outranked to last against me. This Sunday, Scott Nash Strader, you are in charge of your own destiny. You can back away, realizing the threat not only to your health, but to your career in general. Or, you can choose to fight a losing battle as you slowly but surely fall to the powers of Hades. It’s your call, Strader. Back off and survive to fight another day… or fail miserably to return to action against the greatest force this company- this BUSINESS- has ever known. This Sunday, Scott, you will find out firsthand why All Hail…

The camera zooms out, finding Lucious saluting in Order of Chaos fashion.

The Order Of Chaos.

Lucious walks off-screen, the camera back to full view of the OoC flag. We begin to fade, but are quickly pulled back in as Lucious jumps in front of the camera.

See you Sunday, bitch.

Lucious laughs heinously as the camera fades… to… black…

[andre]

Crush'Em




[It’s really quite incredible how angry Shadow Starr makes people here in the PWA. He has one of the worst records this company has seen in ages, and yet still believes he is the cat’s ass. Matthew Engel earned that title long ago. Our scene is back at the Malibu home of Scott Nash Strader. Rocket is back in Washington handling the day to day operations while Strader focuses on his match Monday night against Shadow Starr. Strader sits on his couch; a canopy hangs behind him with the sword wielding gun toting Fat Mexican in the centre. He is dressed similarly to the last time we saw him, but he doesn’t have his cut on. In fact, he has a jack knife in his hand and he is removing the patches from his cut. We see a brand new leather vest also sitting on the table with a sewing kit. Strader acknowledges the camera as it begins to roll. Scott works on removing his patches as he speaks occasionally looking at the camera.]

SNS: “Utter destruction was RPM 2’s main event. Utter Destruction was Unsanctioned 2009 main event. You have not done anything close to utter destruction. If that were true Meghan wouldn’t be alright, and Chamelion would be dead. You’re a pathetic loser Shadow Starr. Soon you will realize this.”

[Scott places the top rocker on his new cut, and begins working on the centre patch.]

SNS: “I’m in a kind of shock with your words Shadow. Kalis has publically stated bringing Scott Nash Strader back equals rating, yet you don’t agree. Kalis knows I’m not a washed has been and that’s why he so desperately sought me out for a match. It’s a wonder you haven’t been removed from the Order like the Southern Hero Jethro Hayes. See I’ve done something neither of you two idiots have accomplished and that’s becoming the PWA World Heavyweight Champion, and much like Laura Estella, I had my title stripped of me. Granted, Laura’s stripping was just for her health, but mine wasn’t. It was Robinson trying to steal the title back for himself.”

“I also never got my rematch for the title. You on the other hand have had multiple chances and have failed each and every single time. You’ve also failed at the chances at regaining the tag team titles from my girls. If this were an Xbox game you would have just received the Epic Fail Achievement. It’s also amazing how you have an undeserved sense of pride and worth. Your worse than Kevin Federline, but at least he fucked Britney Spears.”

“I came back to wrestle Jethro Hayes originally. Things changed when Kalis ordered war on my family. Hayes and I will have our respect match once I’m done with you fucking idiots. My girls can take care of themselves. They can fight their own battles, and they have against your Order of Chaos, beating multiple combinations including you and your dick-bag leader. It’s one thing to be arrogant, it’s another to be arrogant while totally ignoring facts altogether like you have.”

“I can admit when I’ve lost. I lost quite a bit here in my last run in the PWA, but at least I’m remembered for taking people to the limit. On the other side of the coin, I’ve also beaten some of the best and meanest here in the PWA ranging from Chamelion to Bronx Williams to Deacon Frost to Kindred and Matthew Engel. Sure, the World title match you were in against Laura was a fine match. Was it anywhere near London’s Burning, Good vs Evil, or Unsanctioned? Hell no. What bothers you is that a man who is forty five years old is going to destroy you in front of Kalis’ inner city street scum and the entire PWA fan base. Just like my daughters have done three times to you already, and my cousin Bronx did just last week. It’s too bad the tHE bROTHERS rEAPER aren’t around anymore, then you could see all my family kick your ass.”

[Scott places the Fat Mexican on his new cut, along with the 1%er diamond patch.]

SNS: “Those things you are oh so positive about? Just proves you’re a fucking idiot. Do you think I care what you did to Stone? That piece of trash was too scared to even wrestle me and sat out his shot at the world title. So don’t get to fucking high on yourself. I did however witness what you did to Meghan, and no one messes with my little girl. She will get her own justice on you soon, don’t you worry, but in the mean time I’m going to fuck you up not just for that, but being dumb enough to follow Kalis.”

“Like I said before, if you truly took out Chamelion he would be dead. I’ve known that devious son of a bitch for almost a decade and no matter how many times you put him down, he will come back and bite you in the ass. I look forward to the day that happens. As I’m sure he is going to enjoy watching me kick your ass all over the PWA ring. Oh and Laura’s knee was already fucked up douche bag. How many times do you have to be told that you bull headed fucking idiot?”

“You haven’t been screwed over either. You just suck at what you do. Sure, when you came into the PWA, I remember cause I was around, you had some potential. But somewhere, somewhere down the line to right now you became a few cans short of a six pack. You became a faggot wearing face paint to get noticed. How did I get noticed? By snapping necks and taking names. You’re getting noticed as the biggest douche to ever grace the PWA and this is a place that Rob Robinson has been a part of for the last decade. More recently Hunter Sullivan as well. Difference being they actually can win titles.”

[Scott places the bottom and side rockers on the new cut. He flips over his denim cut and removes his Nat. Road Captain Patch, and his Nomad President’s Patch. He begins to sew the top rocker onto his new leather cut.]

SNS: “You actually think you are going to walk out of this match with a win, and an advantage over Vulgar Display of Power. That’s not the case fucker. I’m going to drop you on your fucking head with The Finishing Touch, and then pick you up for The Memory Remains. That memory? Will be knowing you have lost to every active Strader in the business today. Cleanly. That will sting, I know it will.”

“I’ve never once backed down from a fight. Ask Matthew Engel. Ask Nightmare. Ask the entire roster that I picked through at Rumble in The Bronx two years in a row. You are going to realize the only threat to someone’s health is yours. I’m going to crush your ego and your fucking neck you little prick. You have fucked with the biggest, baddest, meanest, most evil son of a bitch the Strader family can offer up.”

“This MONDAY you fucking idiot, you will see why oh so many years ago I rode into the AOWF and took over this community, and why all who Hail the Order are nothing but a bunch of pathetic losers destined for a mass suicide cult. Not because the end of the world is upon, but because you are fucking losers.”

[Scott gives the camera the middle finger as he sneers the infamous family sneer.]

SNS: “God forgives Shadow Starr… Scott Nash Strader doesn’t.”

[Lucious Starr]

For someone who throws such words as “moron” and “Idiot” around, Strader isn’t such a bright one. Unfortunately, it appears that his miniscule count of brain cells will be beaten out of him this Monday night.

The scene fades in on Lucious Starr, who stands in the middle of what appears to be a demolished building. He paces the scene, surveying the destruction as he walks. He takes a deep breath, continuing as he paces.

You keep calling me Shadow, Scott; despite the fact that even your “close friend” Lisa Seldon has realized that this is not my name. Much like yourself, that name is something that is in the past, and should stay in the past. You don’t seem to realize that time has passed, things have changed, and nothing is quite as it seems anymore. Years ago, you were a top dog, a brand name in the business, a World Champion. But now… now, you’re a washed-up piece of wrestling trash who confuses his facts. But that’s fine; I have no problem setting you straight.

Lucious takes a seat on the remains of what appears to be a column, dust settling around the post. Lucious turns to the camera, stern.

You see, Scott, Simon Kalis did indeed think you would bring ratings. A ring legend, a former World Champion, returning to the ring… On paper, that’s every federation’s dream ratings booster. Unfortunately, this particular idea has gone totally awry, as you have come back not for one match against the Redneck Reject Jethro Hayes, but for the destruction of the greatest compilation of athletes to date- the Order of Chaos. And not only have you targeted Simon Kalis, but you have made the distinct error of targeting the most twisted and determined son of a bitch in the business today, Lucious Starr. Scott Nash Strader, you have failed to make a true statement, as your in-ring comeback will barely make it past this Monday. And I’ll be more than happy to leave just enough left over for Simon Kalis to utterly and completely destroy you and your legacy at Summer Sizzler.

Lucious pauses, a sickening grin on his face. He stands, taking in a deep breath as he attempts to switch gears. He then turns to the camera, leaning against a part of a wall before continuing.

You also fail to realize that someone of my aptitude may have more than Chamelion’s ultimate defeat in mind. You think I WANTED to put Chamelion out forever? You fool; that was far from my plans. You see, Strader, the only thing better than bringing a legend back to the ring is bringing down the entire ruling party. Chamelion has been taken out just long enough for me to lay claim to the Undisputed World’s Heavyweight Championship, the one thing he and Lisa Seldon both are trying to keep me away from. But after I claim the title, Chamelion will return in an attempt to take it from me, at which point I will succeed in not only establishing myself as a true champion, but also as the sole greatest power in the PWA today. Chamelion has only recently left the ring; I defeated him mere months ago at Genesis X. Meanwhile, the last time you were in the ring, at least memorably, was early last year after Mark cost you the World Championship against Matt Engel. Which seemed like a set-up then, but after Matthew Engel bitched his way back into the PWA after losing a retirement match at RPM II, we can all see that either it was the biggest set-up of all time… or you were just a has-been before you even left. Face it, Strader. Your daughters are all that’s left of the Strader name, and they couldn’t defend themselves. That’s why Jethro Hayes had to step in and help them take the Tag Team Championships at RPM II. That’s why those damn sluts of yours had to suck off Joe BoXer to get into the match in the first place. But I digress. Mark Sommers is going to find himself in a very interesting position when he comes back to Lucious Starr as this brand’s World Champion. And he’s going to regret having to step into the ring with me in a failed effort to remove the strap from my waist.

Lucious breathes in deeply, sorting his thoughts. He pushes himself off the wall, pacing the rubble. Soon, he comes across something that doesn’t match the rest of the scene; a statue that must have been placed here after the building’s destruction. A statue of Scott Nash Strader, holding the World Championship. Lucious shakes his head, turning to the camera.

What is it that makes the name Strader so important, anyhow? Is it the titles that you have accumulated through your career? Is it the effort you brought to every match, endearing your name and face into the hearts of every fan? Or was it that Scott Nash Strader did the one thing that few have failed to accomplish, and retire when he got ahead? I honestly don’t know how to answer that, Scott. I mean, your daughters have only been champions for a few months now, but then again, they haven’t had much in the way of a title defense for quite some time. So they are arguably the worst Tag Team Champions to date, and we’re talking about a line of champs that include Hunter Sullivan. Hell, at least Hunter defended those things more than once every two months, and he managed to keep them intact. Meanwhile, your girls have one title defense since becoming the champions, and they manage to defend them against Corey “I Don’t Know When To Quit” Lazarus and Hiro “I’m talented but not up to par” Takawa. And while they won by a fluke again a few weeks ago, Meghan failed to defend herself against a shot to the head and a Hell’s Wrath into an exposed turnbuckle. So you tell me who is left to continue the Strader legacy. Obviously not your little whore daughters, they barely managed to arouse Joe long enough to get a title shot. And with their only defense against a fellow washed-up legend and an indy upstart, they haven’t faced much in the way of competition. Your “beloved” cousin Bronx already stated his hatred of you and your bloodline, so I know he’s not going to prolong it. So you decide that since your daughters aren’t up to the task and your cousin doesn’t give a shit, you’d better step up. Too bad; I honestly thought the Strader name would retire when the Cowgirls were shoved out, and your family name might survive their horrible excuse for a run. But no, you had to come back, much like the Phoenix, and ruin everything your career once stood for. Now, you have the opportunity to walk into the ring, get your ass handed to you, and leave with a name that is now tarnished by your failure to understand the meaning of “retired”. You talk so ill of Robinson, yet you make his mistake? What does that make you, Strader?

Lucious picks up a bat, the words “in-ring return” written across it in marker. He smashes the statue with this bat, walking over the pieces as he finds himself peering over the edge of a balcony. He turns back, wrapping up.

Bottom line, Strader, is that this is your end. By stepping into the ring with me on Chaos, you sign your own death warrant. No disqualification means I am completely blameless for breaking every bone in your body and breaking your spirit while I’m at it. No disqualification means that I am free to destroy you, your daughters, your legacy, and your future without remorse and without repercussion. This Monday, Scott, you will learn why it can only be disastrous to fuck with the Fury of Hades. This Monday, Strader, you will learn why so many…

The camera closes in, Lucious wearing the look of untamed fury.

Fear…
The…
Shadows.

Lucious turns, jumping off the balcony as the camera pans the scene. It cuts over the edge, Lucious has disappeared and only one ominous message remains…

Monday Night Chaos.
Scott Nash Strader.
Legend Returns to Dust.

[andre]

Go To Hell



Whisky-A-GoGo, Sunset Strip


[The scene this time is the Whisky-A-GoGo. A lot of famous bands have started here from The Doors to Motley Crue. Scott Nash Strader sits up on the top level, overlooking the Alice Cooper cover band named Only Women Bleed on stage. Strader is without the new cut he was working on, but Strader follows rules sometimes at certain establishments. His attire is the same, black boots, blue jeans with chaps currently done up by a Bandido belt buckle, and a black VDP t-shirt. He takes a swig of his MGD as he begins to speak.]




SNS: “SHADOW Starr go back and watch my first promo, and you’ll understand why I refuse to call you Lucious. Oh and by the way, they all call you Luscious shithead so get over it. You really shouldn’t throw rocks when you live in a glass house imbecile. There’s a new one for ya! Go to dictionary.com and figure that one out.”




[Scott chuckles as Meghan Nash Strader appears on our screen and sits beside him. She has black boots on too, tight black jeans, a white belt and white blouse with the top slightly open. Her long black hair is curled today as it falls over her shoulders. Meghan has a MGD too and takes a drink.]




SNS: “I left this business Shadow, because I had nothing left to prove. I showed the PWA and the world that years ago. I have over twenty titles to my name son. In my last run here I took out the unbeatable man Kindred, and I nearly killed Matthew Engel on a few occasions. I’ve done stuff in this business, and I still can. You get to be the first to feel my wrath back inside the ring. You are my warm up to Danielson next week, and Simon at Sizzler. Not to mention you irritate the piss out of me and I just want to fuck you right up.”




MNS: “You said it dad, I’ve already beaten this guy on three separate occasions. He just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t realize his career is a sinking ship, and he’s the biggest hypocrite of all. SHADOW, how can you try and diminish the Cowgirls Tag Team run? When we beat two teams to earn them in one match, the second match ended because I caved Ai Mei Montrose’s head in, and the third we beat PWA Hall of Famer and Hiro to keep them. How many times did you defend those titles asshole?”




[Scott smiles at his daughter. The look of utter disgust and hatred in her eyes reminds him of him, back then and currently. Scary.]




SNS: “I will say this though; at least you got the date right for our match this time. Put down the crack pipe fucknut.”




MNS: “Starr, I want you to know, that I’m going to be a fair official…"




[The devils smile.]




MNS: “… and call this right down the middle. I won’t interject. This is a NO Disqualification match, so really I’m here for the TKO, submission or pin-fall. I have beaten you so many times in the past month it’s becoming monotonous, dictionary.com if you don’t know Starr. So I have no interest in getting involved physically. I’m there also to make sure you don’t try and pull a fast one, but dad is old…”




[A punch to her old mans shoulder.]




MNS: “… naw I’m just kidding you aren’t anywhere near as a good as my father. This washed up has been is going to make you look like a putts. Starr, marks my words you will pay for trying to cheat my sister and I, and you will pay for the lead pipe. I promise you that you herpes riddled twat.”




SNS: “She’s right you know Shadow. You are a herpes riddled twat. I don’t believe you have any idea of the strategy of war. You attack anything that moves. At least your leader is a calculated man. You’re a man on roid rage. Maybe you should be drug tested. When you took out Chamelion you believed he be would out for a long while. Same with Meghan. Meghan’s already proved you wrong, and Sommers will too. You think the BOD is going to stand for another BOD attacking the CEO and OWNER of the company? Good luck with that one you fucking buffoon.”




“You talk a lot about how my daughters blew Joe BoXeR when they signed their new contracts. The fact is, like Meghan here, and my other daughter Tamika have pointed out… the division was in small, and they destroyed every team on it. Besides you fucking idiot, they had to beat another team to get the fucking shot in the first place you fucking moronic piece of idiotic shit. By you saying they are shit, then what the fuck would you call yourself? That could be truest thing you’ve said about yourself being lower then shit, even if you didn’t come out and directly say it. Show’s on one level you know the truth. You aren’t going to become this brands World Champion because you are the worst athlete on the roster.”




“You irritate the fuck out of me Shadow. You make me want to put holes in walls. But I haven’t. Why? Cause I’m saving that for crushing your fucking skull Monday night Shadow. I’m going to bring you to a near death experience. Hopefully you don’t make it out, but that would be asking too much. But when you do finally get up on Monday, after the dust has settled and I’ve shoved my boot so far up your ass your grandma can feel it in hell, you will realize I was one monster you should’ve left alone.”




“I will show you why, I’m still more a threat to the roster then you ever will be shithead. When people reminisce about the time you got your ass handed to you by an ‘old man’ they’ll remember who did it. Scott Nash Strader did it. I left this career to ride with my brothers in arms, the Bandido’s. I didn’t leave cause I was ahead in my career. My countless titles prove my worth. When this is all over and I’ve spread the Order of Chaos’ blood all over the walls I will be back riding at the front of the pack with my brothers. You? Will still be getting your ass handed to you by my daughters.”




“Bandido Forever, Forever Bandido. That’s my creed. I live in that world. You have no idea what you’re walking into bitch. My family has dealt with your kind before. You’re nothing but scum. You won’t take out the legacy of the Strader name. You won’t ever be able to take out the Cowgirls as they have proved that three times already. You won’t be responsible for anything but trying to make me sign a death warrant and realizing it’s your name on it.”




[A hearty swig of beer from Scott as Meghan has stopped paying attention and is watching the band on stage.]




SNS: “Fear The Shadows? Son, I am the shadows and you just walked into my dark alley. God Forgives.”




“Scott Nash Strader doesn’t.”

[Lucious Starr]

Wow, Scott. Getting your daughter into your promo... a real family moment… almost brought a damn tear to my eye. Oh, not because of the emotions from watching you two, it’s just that two ugly, pathetic excuses for wrestlers such as you make me sick to my stomach, and my eyes well up a smidge right before I puke.

The scene opens up on Lucious Starr, who sits on the bank of a slow moving river. He skips a rock across the still water, watching it as it finishes its path and sinks to the bottom of the river. He turns, looking sternly into the camera.

Seriously, do I need to keep going over this? Because I swear, Tyson and Bomber probably would have gotten that one faster than you, and I think they’re slightly retarded. Meghan and Tamika didn’t belong in the Tag Team Championship match, and they sure as hell didn’t win them on their own merits. Joe BoXer got himself sucked off, put those two in an unnecessary contender’s match, and then booked them against two guys who were going through hell and frankly didn’t care at the time. And at Revolutions Per Minute II, either after selling them nude pics or sucking them off, too, Bubba and Jethro HELPED the Cowgirls nab the titles. And if you REALLY want to go over your title defenses… let’s see, Corey Lazarus, who seems to retire and come back more often than Matthew Engel, and Hiro Takawa, who hasn’t proved whether he’s more than a Jackie Chan wannabe. Seriously? I defended those titles against Chamelion and Gareth Evans, a team I’m sure are twice the athletes those Frontline II Turbo geeks are, and I don’t bother bragging about them half the time. And if I remember correctly, you two have yet to defend those titles against myself and Danielson two-on-two… so before you start talking more shit than you are, put your money where your damn mouth is.

Lucious shakes his head, scowling. He picks up another rock, again skipping it across the water. He turns back, breathing in deeply before he continues.

You know, Scott, somehow we keep landing on the subject of Matthew Engel. Tell you what, I’m going to do us both a favor and, much like most of the west coast has with your daughters, smother this thing. You ALMOST killed Engel. But you couldn’t get the job done. My guess is that either of your ex wives could have told us that much. You got so far, did so much… but unlike Jethro, you just couldn’t get it done. And we all know what happened after Jethro ended Engel’s career. For you, I’ll recap, seeing as you’re a total moron. Engel came back, pissed like a little bitch, and sued the PWA to allow him to finish out his contract. Too bad, much like you and Rob, Engel just can’t face the music. You’re all in the same boat now- old, washed up, and so damn diluted by your past accomplishments that you can’t see the threat right in front of you.

Lucious stands, pacing the bank. He stops as a blue jay flies past, admiring the bird. He turns back to the camera as he continues walking, addressing his opponent.

You see, Scott, I’ve been in your position. A man with a band, looking for glory, knowing his future is sealed. Unfortunately, my little band of friends was an in-ring group, and eventually the call of gold tore us apart. As of now, I am the sole remaining member under contract in the business, so I must do my best to represent the group. And while in the past I allowed many things to cloud my judgment, I am no longer held back by my own fears of being great. There is nothing stopping me from being the greatest talent the world has ever seen… and you will find this out firsthand on Monday. You see, Scott, I am not some rookie with a chip on my shoulder; I’m an established player with more cards up my sleeve than a Vegas magician. You think that being part of some little group of bikers makes you bad? I’ll show you what the fuck bad is when I break every goddamn bone in your body. I’ll show you what the hell it means to be a “Bandido” when I beat your brains in for an hour and a half before finally ending your comeback prematurely. Fuck you, fuck your Bandidos, and fuck your little bullshit games. I am your worst nightmare, you old bastard, and I will make you wish our match was just a nightmare. Your horror will only begin on Monday, Strader, but it will haunt you until you take that pistol to your head and end the terror.

Lucious stops, looking down into the river. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, turning back to the camera. His face is twisted, as a mental patient without his meds.

You will have no defenses. Meghan won’t help you, because I will annihilate her as well. Your Bandidos won’t help you; they’ll be too busy nursing the wounds that the Order has so graciously bestowed upon them. Lisa won’t help you; she’ll be too busy thinking up the next way to screw me over to realize what the hell I’ve done. You’re all alone, Strader, and I will make full use of every weapon in my arsenal to obliterate you. This isn’t going to be a match, Strader. It’s going to be something much worse…

The camera zooms in on Lucious’ face, his eyes burn with rage.

It’s going to be a massacre.

Lucious turns, walking down the river bank. The camera pans the scene, following the steady flow of the stream as we fade… to… black…