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| **The scene opens to the foyer of the Windermere, Florida home of the CWF
World Heavyweight Champion 'The Nitemare' Rob Osbourne. The blinds are
closed and the heavy curtains are pulled shut. The only light in the room is
that coming from the computer he is seated in front of. Looking very
unkempt, Osbourne has a five o'clock shadow and his hair is visibly dirty
and in need a of a washing. He is clad in a stained wife beater and a pair
of workout shorts. The garbage can next to the desk is running over with
empty Heineken bottles and fast food wrappers. Osbourne is leaning in
staring hard at the screen as an avatar looking very much like him runs
across a desert terrain. The front door opens and he cringes and holds up
his hand to block the bright Florida sunshine. Christina Danky-Osbourne
stands there staring at the site before her in disbelief** Christina: No, no, don't get up'I've got the luggage myself. NRO: Shut the fucking door already, you're killing me. Christina: Oh'you don't know the half of it pal. What the fuck Rob? The house is trashed'YOU'RE trashed. You didn't pick me up or even send a car for me at the airport'you've got a title defense in three days and you don't look like you've moved from that chair since you got back from losing to Pledge'. NRO: Three days? Three days?!?! Holy shit'is it Wednesday already? Christina: Oh my God. Have you been sitting here getting drunk and stoned playing video games for two weeks?!? You haven't prepared to defend the world title against the former champion, a man who is over seven feet tall and over five hundred pounds? Come on Rob'. NRO: Not preparing? Are you insane? I have been preparing for two solid weeks. Look at my avatar'he's leveling so fast I don't think there'll be a single Warrior that will be able to take him soon. I mean if he thinks his Human Warrior is any match for my Blood Elf Death Knight he's sadly mistaken. I mean, it's one of only a few classes that can really tank without a shield. Christina: WHAT?!?! NRO: Well'the last promo I saw of his he was flying around by the magic of his hammer, bringing justice to the mountain plains of Juhutenheizendinger, casting spells and battling the minions of his enemies. Then I saw that commercial with Ozzy about the prince of darkness, you know the one' Christina: The one for that stupid fucking dork game? NRO: One and the same. WoW. Christina: Yeah, wow is right. How gay. NRO: No, WoW as in World of Warcraft. I had to go to Best Buy and replace the flat panel when I threw the world title into it in a tantrum. Anyway, I walk past this display about this stupid fucking game and one of the cartoon characters on the box looks mysteriously like our resident Nordic Numbskull. I pick up the box and start reading it and some jack-off from the Geek Squad comes up and starts rapping to me about this game. Long story short, he never ONCE recognized me or made a fuss, it was kind of cool actually. He convinced me to buy the game. **Christina looks around the desk and there are several 'World of Warcraft' boxes. She picks them up and looks at Rob with an odd look.** Christina: Ok, I'll bite, why are there this many different boxes? NRO: Well, you see, those are expansion packs. This dork was telling me all about the game, and I didn't want to scare him into reality with my situation, so I described Magnus to him and he said it was a Human Warrior that was pretty uber, whatever the hell that means. He suggested getting the most recent expansion and grinding to the new playable character the Blood Elf'. Christina: Wait a minute. So you mean to tell me that to prepare to defend your title to a man twice your size by playing a fucking computer game? NRO: Not just A computer game babe'.this is THE computer game, I mean seriously, ten million people can't be wrong. And you know what? When I started playing'it was so much fun. I haven't really moved from the PC in two weeks give or take. Christina: What the fuck is wrong with you? NRO: What's wrong with me? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!? Are you fucking kidding me? I find out my whole life is a lie and that the man I saw as my mentor is really my father and that Pledge is his bastard kid too'and then Pledge turns on me to help Mark Fucking Xamin of all people. Then you go on one of your little 'business trips' and leave me alone in my darkest time in twenty years and to top it all off my fucking kid, my pride and joy, my everything, declares he wants nothing to do with me but will gladly let me pay his medical bills. What's wrong with me? What's NOT wrong with me Christina? Christina: Listen'.I can't do anything about Pledge or the CWF'I can talk to Bobby but he's enough like you that we both know that will just backfire on us both'as for my business trip, I really don't appreciate the connotation in your voice, but I was in fact in the UK working very diligently to get a European branch of PWN off the ground. It is done and I am back now. NRO: Well la dee fucking da, I'm so happy that your perfect existence wasn't effected by the shit storm that is my life. Christina: You know what? Fuck you. You want to just lay here and feel sorry for yourself? You want to turn into some douche bag playing computer games all the time? NRO: It isn't JUST a game, it's an MMORPG. Christina: Fine. Whatever. This just isn't the Rob Osbourne I fell in love with and married. NRO: Oh yeah? Well, don't the door hit you in the ass on the way out. Chrstina: I don't think you understand Rob, I don't want to leave you, I want you to get your shit together and be 'The Nitemare'. Not some fucking stoner waste of life who does nothing but sit around moping about how tough things are wasting away playing video games and eating junk food. You worked for the last year to be where you are at right now and this is how you are going to handle it? By Adams'ing out? NRO: What? Christina: You heard me. You're no different than Adams. His little Shock Value gig went south, you bested him, then Magnus Thunder bested him and he went and sunk into a black hole somewhere. NRO: How does that make me like him? Christina: Well, I guess you're right'he at least tried to defend the title against Magnus. You're giving up and the opening bell hasn't even rung. NRO: Wow' Christina: Oh will you fucking stop about the stupid game already? NRO: No, I meant wow as in wow because I hadn't looked at it like that. **Osbourne's head drops into his hands and he sits in silence for a moment as tears stream down his wife's face. He looks up after several minutes and speaks.** NRO: You're right. About all of it. I can't Adams out and just disappear and I certainly can't Paul Blair it and just get beat over and over and over and over and OVER again. And I can't take the Pledge's route - my ass just can't handle that. Limited schedule, tagging with curtain jerkers, doing the bidding of Mark Xamin, losing and dignity and respect that I may have once had. No. You're right as usual. I'm gonna go take a shower and shave this shit off of my face. Be here when I get done? Christina: No, but I will be upstairs waiting for you'. **Osbourne heads to the bathroom and cleans himself up then heads into the bedroom as the door slams shut. Several hours later he emerges dressed in a black suit with a purple shirt opened at the tom, hair pulled back into a pony tail and trademark Oakley frogskin shades on the bridge of his nose. He kisses Christina and races down the stairs, hops in the GT500 and heads to the airport where he drives the car into the access hatch. As the plane lifts off he is flipping on the digital uplink to PWN studios to cut his promo for Showdown.** NRO: I want to talk directly to the man who I will be facing off with this Saturday night. Mr. Magnus Q. Thunder. It's time to put your money where your mouth is champ. Wait, my bad, you're not the champ - I AM. I know that stings you Magnadoodle. I know it pains you to watch the replays of me defeating you for the title. I also know you are probably watching that video over and over, feeding off of the emotions that it swells up in the pit of your being. I can feel your anger. It makes you stronger'gives you focus. It puts fire in your belly'but is it enough? Am I going to sit here and tell you how I am going to obliterate you? Not at all. Am I going to tell you how pathetic you are and how your entire persona is the laughing stock of the CWF Locker Room? I would never be so crass. Am I going to mock you and your penitent ways? Never. Am I going to come to that ring Saturday night with more drive, purpose, and ambition than you have seen in this era of the CWF? Abso-mother fucking-lutely. Magnus, I think your problem is that you have placed yourself on such a pedestal that you can no longer realize when it is that you are talking out of your ass. I believe the old saying was 'you can't see the forest for the tree's.' But I digress. This Saturday the time for talking will be over. The time for idle threats and cheap shots will have passed. It'll just be me and you. David and Goliath. I've got my slingshot and three smooth stones ready to go, however, if that fails, I can always cast Rune Tap, Mark of Blood and Hysteria and follow it up with a Threat of Thassarian and see how well you hold up to that, you big mythical retard. There is but one thing I will guarantee for this match'and that is me walking out of Showdown STILL Your CWF World Heavyweight Champion. And Magnus, you can take that to the bank. The Blood bank. **Osbourne flips off the digital uplink and checks in with his pilot. They are about to land at Laguardia airport in New York City when Rob has a faint thought and he calls the pilot back'** Pilot: Yes sir Mr. Osbourne? NRO: Hey man, I just had a quick question. Why are we in New York? Pilot: Well, I thought this was where your big title defense was taking place sir. NRO: Who gave you the flight plan? I don't even know where the show is taking place' Pilot: Let me see here'.it looks like your brother logged the flight plan about two weeks ago sir. I had assumed you had looked it over and approved it. You always do. NRO: SHIT! I've been a little off the last few weeks man. Fucking A. Pilot: Where are we supposed to be sir? NRO: That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question then isn't it? Pilot: Orders sir? NRO: Orders? Dude'I don't even know where we are supposed to be. I don't know'fly casually. Pilot: Uhm'.okay. Flying casually. Though you may want to get on the horn and figure it out, I can only fly casually for about another hour before we crash casually from lack of fuel. NRO: I tell you what, put down at Laguardia then find yourself a way home. You're fired smart ass. Pilot: You can't do that. This isn't my fault. NRO: (sarcastically imitating the pilot) 'This isn't my fault!' Fuck off. I hate whiners. This IS your fault. You accepted a flight plan without my signature on it AND you initiated that flight plan without double checking with me before take off. Wait a minute' **Osbourne receives a text message on his LG Incite and immediately begins cursing wildly. The pane has stopped and the pilot has just emerged from the cockpit streaking towards Osbourne in a fit of rage. The pilot lunges at him but he just catches him in mid flight and Badd Dreams him to the deck.** NRO: You fucking idiot. The show is in California. I sure hope Pledge paid you well to pull this little stunt. Moron. **Osbourne exits the plane as he calls the terminal security offices. Minutes later a car pulls up and two armed guards remove the still unconscious pilot from the craft as Osbourne heads in to the airport. He meanders up to the Pilot's Lounge, typically off limits to civilians, but Osbourne knows some people who know some people and he walks in after swiping his black card. Several pilots awaiting orders are milling about playing card games or watching the news. Seated at the juice bar are two wiry looking older men. Osbourne saddled up next to one of them and strikes up a conversation.** NRO: So, any of you boys looking for a job? Pilot #1: Depends on the pay. Pilot #2: Speak for yourself Jerry, I need work. What's the gig? NRO: My private pilot. Pilot #1: And who the hell are you? Pilot #2: Uhm'what rock do you live under Jerry? This guy is one of the most famous professional wrestler's to ever put on a pair of tights. Pilot #1: Bubba, if you seriously think I would know a professional wrestler when I see one, you are as stupid as this guy is to think he can just waltz into the Pilot's Lounge and hire a pilot on a whim. NRO: Bubba it is? You're hired. Jerry, what's your annual salary? Pilot #1: Not that it's any of your business, but its around a hundred and twenty-five thousand. NRO: Awesome. Bubba, how does two-ninety a year sound? Pilot #2: Are you serious Mr. Osbourne? Pilot #1: Wait'.Osbourne'as in Rob Osbourne? Pilot #2: I thought you didn't know any wrestler's? Pilot #1: Well, I don't not really. But Rob Osbourne is one of the most successful entrepreneur's of my generation. The guy owns the MGM Grand in Vegas, half of Manhattan, most of Nashville, and a good chunk of Orlando. Not to mention his wife is owns a cable television network' NRO: And you can tell your kids and your grandkids that your fucking stupidity not only cost you a job working for me, but you can also tell them about the gash in your head I gave you and how you were never right after I scrambled your brains with that Badd Dream I gave you. Pilot #1: Wha- **Osbourne kicks the man in the stomach then proceeds to flatten his cranium on the floor of the Pilot's Lounge. As security rushes in, Osbourne and Bubba slip out and head back to the plane.** NRO: Okay, so let me lay down some ground rules for you. I don't fly everyday. I usually fly once a week to wherever it is we are having our show. Sometimes I will get a wild hair up my ass and want to go on a quick trip. I'm a smart ass and filthy rich, so I don't really have much candor about me. I smoke too much and I drink too much. I can get quite belligerent and be a bit of an asshole. But the money is good and the hours are better. Now get this bird moving, we need to be in L.A. like two hours ago. **The Nitemare heads into the aft portion of the plane as Bubba fires up the engines and goes through his pre-flight checklist. As he does, Osbourne's LG Incite rings.** NRO: Hello? Speaking. What? No, I don't have any idea who you are. My father told you to call me? My faqther's been dead for...oh wait, you mean Jimmy Blast? Right. Go on. Really? You don't say? Well, that IS interesting. Thanks for the tip. I appreciate it. Pilot: We're good to go Mr. Osbourne, just let me know when you are ready and we can lift off. NRO: Slight change of plans. Meeting in L.A. is postponed until after Showdown. We need to get to Ohio as quickly as we can. How fast can you get to Cinci? Pilot: Fairly quickly sir, shall I plot a course change and submit it or just veer off in flight? NRO: Whatever floats your boat hotshot, I just need to be at my....dad's...by morning. God that's going to take some getting used to. Let's get out of here. **Osbourne stretches out on the couch as the pilot goes back to the cockpit and the plane lifts off. An hour and a half later the plane touches down in Ohio, as it does, the back cargo hatch opens and the black GT500 rolls out and then speeds past it towards the home of Jimmy Blast. As Osbourne pulls into the long driveway lined with trees that seems to go on forever a sense of irony hits him. He loved everything about this property. It must be genetic tastes. Must have been the reason he and Blast always seemed to like the same things, the same type of women, the same drinks, the same flavored dum-dum lolipops. Root beer. Ah yes, there had been a time when Osbourne wouldn't have been seen without the root beer dum-dum sticking out of his mouth. Not now though. He wasn't that same cocky kid he used to be. What was he now? What HAD he become? He had been trying to follow in his father's foot steps...but being the prick Joe osbourne had always been hadn't really came naturally to him. He had to work on it. The tactician, the business prowess, all signs of the Blaster. Joe Osbourne was an alcoholic who cheated on his wife and gambled away most of his money at the track. Jimmy Blast was an alcoholic who was techincally saavy and a shrewd business man, owning a chain of restaraunts in the greater Cincinatti area. It all started making sense. Pledge HAD been like their father. He had bucked his inner voice and tried to be like the man he THOUGHT was his father. As he saw the Blaster standing near the front door and it dawned on him that it was time to change who he was. It was time to re-write his story and redeem his legacy. He gets out of the car and hugs his father. They head inside and their is a full CWF camera crew waiting with spotlights and mics set-up. Osbourne sits down and a stage hand fits him with a mic. The Blaster takes a seat opposite him and they check the mic that he was alreayd wearing. A director asks them if they are ready to go and then yells 3....2....and motions with his index finger and points to Blast as the light on the camera turns green.** JJB: Ladies and gentlmen of the CWF. MY people. It is with great pride that I am here with you tonight. You all were great to me and have treated me like a King for several years since my retirement from the ring. I still get CWF fan mail and I still seem to be mentioned quite frequently. Not bad for an old man who has been out of the game for over a decade huh? But my name has been showing up much more frequently here as of late. It appears my secret is out. I fathered not one but two illegitimate children. One was a fling, a horny ring groupie in Rochester, but the other was a woman I dearly loved for man years. She was the wife of my tag team partner, Joe "The Crippler" Osbourne. This man I have played out to be my heir to my legacy in the ring, unknown to anyone but me and his mother, was really the heir to my everything. The last few weeks have been the best of my years. I'm getting a little long in the tooth and know my twilight is well upon me. To have both of my boys know that I love them and have been so proud of both of them for so very long that I wanted the world to here this. I am sorry Robbie. I really, really am. NRO: Blaster....pops...old man..... JJB: Knock it off hauss. NRO: Seriously. I had a revelation. I am going to dedicate this title run to you Blaster. I intend to break Paul Blair's record that he hold for longest reign. Magnus Thunde,r if you think for one fraction of an iota of a milisecond that you stand a snowballs chance in hell of taking me out without a fight you are sadly, SADLY mistaken. I have the genetic pedigree of greatness. You're a freak in a Thor costume that needs to switch to decaf and lay off of the comic books. Saturday night Magnus Thunder, like your Messiah you will realize that flesh...bones...they hurt when broken...and they bleed. The flesh can be wracked with pain, but the spirit may endur. I doubt not your spirit Magnus, it's your flesh that can't handle what I am going to do to you. I am going to show you what I mean when I say that Life....is....paiN!! **FTB** |
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