What Happens When You Can't Up The Ante Any More?

-=- The camera is focused on an EWA calendar hanging on a wall. The month displayed is October, and the EWA superstar featured this month is “Tricky” Tiki Tortez. Printed below his picture are the words “Trick or Treat!!!” The days are crossed off one by one, leading up to today, October 25th. The camera swings to the left, revealing the room to be Nomad’s “office” in his New York City penthouse. There’s a desk in the center of the room with a Dell computer, a suit of armor in the corner to the left, a carved wooden chair with red velvet upholstery in the next corner, a 27-inch Sony Wega TV on a large stand in the third corner, and another suit of armor in the last corner. As far as people go, the room is empty -=-

The back of my hand, Cody.

-=- The camera swings over to the doorway in the wall between the chair and the TV. Nomad is standing in it, leaning against the frame. The lights from the New York City skyline are bright behind him, showing Nomad only in silhouette -=-

I know you like the back of my hand. I’ve been with this company for over three years, and never has anyone been more of a thorn in my side than you. I fought TNT time and time again, I put my body through more punishment against him than some wrestlers take in a lifetime. And yet he doesn’t compare to YOU. I’ve fought you every now and then over the years. Match here, match there. But then suddenly you decided to make kicking my ass your mission in life. For the last two months, you have hounded me like you’re on a fucking holy war. You steal my title, you wreck my car, you RUIN MY LIFE. Well I’ve got news for you Cody.

-=- Nomad begins walking into the room -=-

IT’S OVER.

-=- Nomad walks over to the desk and sits in the fine wooden chair. We can see now that he’s wearing a vintage Cody Covington shirt. He leans back, and brings his legs up. His paratrooper-issue steel-toe stomping boots slam onto his desk,
legs crossed -=-

I’ve given you enough chances to dethrone me. This Sunday at Hellacious Halloween 3 is your last shot. If you don’t beat me now, you never will, because you’ll never get a chance. Sorry, buddy, but it was written into the fine print of the contract you signed for the match. And just to prevent your lawyers from having a field day....should you somehow score a victory this Sunday and take my title, I don’t get a rematch. So it’s all on the line. Put up or shut up. Just the way I like it. And now that the stage is set, let’s move on.

-=- Nomad gestures to the calendar hanging on the wall above his head -=-

It’s almost Halloween, Cody. You’ve got a choice ahead of you. Trick....or treat? It’s a simple choice, really. Choose trick, and I whip your sorry ass for as long as it takes to win that match and exile you from my life forever. Choose treat, and you can simply withdraw from the match and save yourself the pain. It’s your call, though I think I know what you’ll pick. I may hate your guts, but you’re not the quitting type. So it looks like what you choose as your trick....will be MY treat. I am going to take great pleasure in dismantling you, Cody. Make no mistake about it. You made the sorry mistake of letting me choose the stipulation for our match, and now the deck is stacked in my favor.

We’re fighting in my city. On my home turf. You’ll be put-up in some sorry hotel, still groggy from jet lag, whereas I get to spend Saturday night here, in my own bed. And not only that, but it’s an Ascent to Armageddon match. MY MATCH. Not only did I invent it in order to take MY Glass Match to a whole new level, but I’ve already fought in one. May 21st, 2000, in Shreveport, Louisianna. Me and Dino Delsante. Was it brutal? Yes. Will our match this Sunday be just as brutal? Don’t worry, it’ll be moreso. Did I beat Dino? Yes. Will I beat you this Sunday? You’re damn right. I’ve been in Glass Matches, I’ve been in ladder matches, I’ve been in Hell on Earth matches, I’ve been in triple-decker cage matches, I’ve even been in fucking Hair Salon matches. And my winning streak is still running strong. I’m the uncrowned king of gimmick matches, Cody, and this Sunday you’re gonna’ find out why.

-=- Nomad stands up and walks out of the room. The camera follows him as he walks out onto his favorite part of his penthouse, the balcony -=-

From up here I can see everything. If I look out I can see the skyline, a smattering of buildings. If I look across the street I can see a couple “consumating their love”. And if I look straight down I can see a cabbie stopping to pick up a rich prick in a suit. The one thing I can’t see, from here or anywhere else, is the future. No one knows what’s going to happen tomorrow, or even five seconds from now. But I must be fucking clairvoyant, because I know for damn sure what the outcome of our match will be.

-=- Nomad turns and faces the camera -=-

I hope you’re not too attached to your wrestling career, Cody, because this Sunday I’m going to take it away. Kiss your independent mobility goodbye. In the first Ascent to Armageddon match I knocked Dino Delsante off the ladder, forty feet to the ground. I’m not about to go that easy on you. You pushed me too far. You’ve taken too much away from me already. So at Hellacious Halloween, I’m going to take EVERYTHING away from you. But in a display of humanitarianism, I will give one thing to you in exchange. YOUR JOURNEY’S END.

-=- Nomad turns around and looks out upon the city as the camera feed cuts off -=-