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Scene One: Doomed. Is. Theory. 

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[x] 1/30/20 [x]  

 
 

It was a drafty afternoon in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The few leaves that've fallen from the trees had rained down into the streets cracks, and the wind had started dying down. Within all of this,  a figure in a hoodie appeared, having his hands deep in his front pockets, and stepped off a sidewalk and onto a cross walk. There were no cars, which let him go through with no problem. His walk was slow, taking it's time to get from point a to point b. Point b being a fence. The camera followed him by the side, only showing his right side. His hand, nails painted black, slipped out of the hoodie, and began to glide against the fence next to him.

 

Often times in this... sport... the term, vanilla midget, is thrown around.

 

The man's face isn't shown yet, but his scruffy jaw is. The canine teeth were sharp, being exposed as he grinned.

 

"You don't have it, kid", is something men of my stature has been forced to hear time and time again. Just because I'm not some jacked, 6'ft'3 body builder. When you ask what "It" is... you're pointed to a man, such as Austin Theory. A man with good looks, a chiseled body, and a catchphrase to put on a shirt... THAT is "it", says these wrestling Gods...

 

The man stopped in his tracks, turning to face the camera. Our view slowly rises, but the man bows his head. Still, his hood was up, obscuring his face.

 

But don't let that fool you... marketing doesn't mean you're a good wrestler. Your Instagram likes are worthless, and those nights you spend in the gym to gain muscle doesn't compare to what I have. What is needed for this sport... scratch that... this world... and that's heart. Jimmy Jacobs. Is. All. Heart.

 

The Emo Warrior's head picked up. His eyeliner was obscured from the rain that had just passed, leaving trickles of black lines travel down his face. His face was that of determination.

 

I see you already, Theory. With your grin, looking down on me. You think to yourself, you'll steamroll right through the little guy, huh? Heh... that's something I bet a lot of people are thinking.I've gotten use to that, and as a matter of fact, I've made it my career to prove jerks like you wrong. The people think there's no way you could lose to a guy like me. I might be 179 pounds, and I might not have the flashiest moves, but I have the determination, and the ultimate prize to win. I might just be 169 some odd pounds, but for the love and adoration of Lacey, I march into that ring with the heart, of a 300 pound man.

Jimmy, determined in his message, took his fist and beat his chest once, keeping it there as he continued.

For her, there are no limits. Already, I've showcased that in Solid Gold Wrestling. If she says "Jimmy... Jump!", in her angelic voice, I ask how high. If she asks me to compete in a match, where I may die...

Suddenly, transparent red static hits the screen, showing Jacobs, covered in blood, on his knees in the middle of the ring, yelling "LACEEEEEEYYYYYYYYY!", before going back to him, looking down at the grass beneath him with an open mouth smile, snapping back to reality to look back at the camera.

Then, I'd accept my death with a smile. Because you see, a soldier fights for a cause greater then himself. To fight for Lacey, is worth more then any war. Lacey has given me the one thing I've needed in my entire life; a purpose. Everyday, I pray to whatever deity may be up there in the sky, and thank them for their greatest creation, and letting me love them! The day I met Lacey, was the day I swore I'd make her a happy woman. What you and Mandy Rose represent... is oppression.

Jacobs shook his head, biting his lip, trying to process his words.

I look at the two of you... "the perfect couple", some might say, and shake my head. There is no love... no intamacy.... just two plastic bodies trying to take the spotlight. Lacey... she's beautiful... what's beautiful about her, is how real she is, no matter if it might hurt my feelings. You two, are the wrestling equivelent of Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, and that is something I dispise. As someone who has made it his mission in life to impress the woman of my dreams, it is disgraceful and downright PUTRID that you've joined this COMPANY!

Jacobs voice picked up during the last sentence. Realizing this, he hushed up, looking shocked a bit, as he let the silence take over. He finally flipped the hood back, brushing his hands back against his hair, as he took a deep breath.

 

But, soon enough, I'll have my hands on you. I get it man... I get it... you're a rich kid... been there, done that... but that just eats you away. It makes you forget you have to FIGHT for the things you love. My father... well... he was a federal judge... made a lot of money... but that didn't make me happy. Nothing he gave me could ever put a smile on my face. I was fed with a silver spoon... I didn't know what true hapiness was until Lacey came along... so, consider that my mission, to make you appreciate what you have... because sooner or later...

 

His hand reached down into his pocket, slowly pulling out a railroad spike. He looked at it in his fist, clutching at it.

You'll lose what you have... so take a good, long look at your pretty face one last time... because I'm going to carve Lacey's name into your forehead, and make you the Theory of A Dead Man, for her...

 

Jacobs' hand turned over, leaving his fingers to grab at the blunt end, and point the point straight to the camera, as the static cut us away from Jacobs.

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Scene One:Pep Talk

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[x] 2/1/20 [x] 

It was just 7 more days until Total Destruction. The media had been blowing up over Infiltration. From the shocking reveal of the "mole" in the Championship Comittee, too the outstanding matches put on by the roster, the company's look was at an all time high. One of those people that weren't advertised as a moving force in the company, was Jimmy Jacobs. It was an uneventful debut for The Emo Warrior, as he was the one to be pinned in a Deathmatch at Card Subject To Change. While most competitors are busy lifting weights, training in the ring, or dieting, Jimmy Jacobs was busy couting change at a bar.

Jimmy...

 

It's cool babe. I got this... let's see... carry the one... subtract five... uh...

 

JUST GIVE THE MONEY TO ME! YOU'RE STUPID!

 

Yoink. Lacey grabbed the money and started counting it out in frustration. Jimmy looked down at his hands on the bar, while the bartender looked at Lacey with a smile. Lacey finally got done counting it and gave it to him.

 

Ugh, you can leave now.

 

She was disgusted he even thought she existed, let alone look at her. He left, not wanting the wrath of Lacey. She rubbed her temple, stressed out of her mind, while Jimmy confidently piped up.

 

So uh, Lacey, big event comin' up eh? Been awhile since I've competed.

 

I still don't know how you, of all the people in that match, cried over a book getting ripped up.

 

...It's still hurtful.

 

Anyway, yeah, Jimmy, yeah, it has been awhile. That's why I need you to win, big time.

 

Oh?

 

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbow on the bar as he reached for his drink. It, of course, had a bendy straw.

I've got moles in the system, and from what I'm hearing, they're trying to put that Austin Theory kid in the main event scene.

 

Can't blame 'em... I mean, he's alright.

 

It's his body. He looks like a wrestler, you don't. Do you know what they're trying to make you out to be?

 

A man who defends his wo-

 

A jobber, Jimmy. Jobber Jimmy Jacobs is what they're calling you.

 

WHAT! THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS! Jimmy Jacobs is not a jobber!

 

You record says otherwise.

 

Jacobs looked like he was about to reply, but Lacey countered it with a look saying "try me". He knew he was bested in that confrontation.

 

And if you don't win, we don't make money. Specifically, I don't make money.

 

But-

 

NO, HEY... no butts, you need to be kicking butts, and you haven't. I don't want to hire anyone else. You're the cheapest option I've found.

 

...But the most valuable, rig-

 

Shut the fuck up. J-i-m-m-y, you need to focus on the matches, not me. I like having you around for one thing; you get things done. Before SGW, you were killing it, now, what happened? Where's that drive? Where's that... that...

 

Lacey, flustered at this point, was trying to sound out a word with the "L" letter. Jacobs was about to cry, but seeing this, he was smiling like a kid on Christmas.

 

Loooooooveeeeee~?

 

Ugh.... yeah, that.... where's it at, huh?

 

Lacey, disgusted with the idea of loving a loser like Jacobs chugged back her drink.

 

I'm not making excuse, I promise. But, ya know, it's been awhile since I've done this. Trust me, I would've loved to have won the Elevation Title on my first night but... it was a lot... but I promise, with all of my heart, for you, I'll make sure I write those wrongs with win, after win, after win.

 

...Ya know? Sometimes, you're alright Jimmy.

 

Jacobs eyes were wide, his goofy grin, and his hands shaking in pure ecstacy.

 

Realllyyyyyy~?

 

Yes.

 

For realllsieeeees~?

 

I'm five seconds away from smashing you over the head with this beer glass.

 

Thanks~<3

 

Lacey shrugged. She wasn't smiling, but she knew she couldn't be harsh on the poor guy 24/7. It just wasn't going to get results. Jacobs, of course, was hoping he did the right thing. This was the first sign of affection in weeks between the two. Just as Jacobs was about to say something, he crossed his legs, and his face went red.

 

Oh uh, wow. This beer really goes *HIC*... goes to ya-*HIC-ugh... I'll be in the little men's room...

 

TMI, you're GROSS.

 

Jimmy was quick to hop off the bar stool, waddiling with his legs cross through the crowd. It was a busy day at the bar, and Lacey tuned out the noise, sighing as she spinned in her chair to watch the TV. SGW was still popping off as the top sport in the world, and she shook her head in grief.

 

WELLDY-FUCKIN'-WELLINGTON-THE-FUCKIN'-3RD. IF IT ISN'T THE "LOVELY" LACEY. LET ME TELL YOU WHO WAS LOVELY. THE QUEEN OF EXTREME, FRANCINE! NOW THERE WAS A LADY!

 

As if a ghost had come to haunt Lacey, she looked to her right, startled at the obnoxious voice, seeing "The Franchise", SGW Backstage Interviewer, Shane Douglas was sitting in the chair, looking at her dead in the eye with a microphone in hand, while wearing a t-shirt that has Adam Cole's face plastered all over it.

 

HOW COULD YOU CALL YOURSELF LOVELY WHEN YOU TORTURE A PUSSY WHIPPED EMO LIKE JIMMY JACOBS?

 

Woah woah woah, excuse me? Why do you have a microphone?

 

THAT'S CLASSIFIED INFORMATION.

 

Could you STOP yelling?

 

HELL NO. ANSWER THE QUESTION GOD DAMN IT.

 

Why I oughta... fine... you really wanna know why I bully Jimmy?

 

NO, TELL ME HOW ADAM COLE WASHES HIMSELF IN THE MORNING!

 

...

 

YES, TELL ME ABOUT JIMMOTHY.

Lacey rolled her eyes, sighing as she crossed her arms.

 

Look at the other managers in SGW. They're soft. They're too, supportive. I mean, Keanu Reeves is a manager here, and he's the nicest man alive. Do you know what that creates? Soft clients.

 

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU IMPLYING? I WAS ALWAYS HARD AROUND FRANCINE!

 

The few residents sitting next to them looked at them oddly, scooting away. Lacey looked at him in disgust, mortified at the filth coming out of his mouth.

 

Jesus... I don't get paid enough for this, anyway, my point is, I'm offering something different. When you work with me, you work for a woman that looks to get the job done. Jimmy? He's soft, but I make him a killer in that ring. He loves me, which is, disgusting, but it's a hell of a motivation. What can I say? I'm simply smarter then the rest.

 

She gave off a cocky smile, seeming sure of herself, as Shane looked at her, dead in the eyes.

 

WELL LET ME FUCKIN' TELL YOU SOMETHIN'- IF JIMMY JUMPIN' FUCKIN' JACOBS AIN'T NAMED ADAM COLE, HE AIN'T SHIT! AND HE'LL NEVER BE SHIT, BUT SHIT! DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE ABSOLUTELY TRICKED THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMITTEE? HOLY FUCK! I NEARLY BURSTED A FUCKIN' NUT SEEING HIM PIN THAT FUCKIN' VIPER! I! I! ADAM COLE BAY-BAY! ADAM COLE BAY-BAY! A-A-A-AAHHH! AHHHHHHHH! GAAAAAAAAH!

 

Suddenly, as he talked more and more, The Franchise's face became red and his veins popped from his neck. His mouth began to foam, and he fell backwards! Busting his ass on the floor! It wasn't a seizure, but he was still pumping his fists in the air. Lacey looked down at him, dumbfounded.

 

Are... are you... huh...

 

As she's about to ask if he's alive, there's a toilet flush coming from the bathroom, as Jimmy walks out, his eyes closed, humming "The Ballad of Lacey", until he accidentally steps on The Franchise.

 

Huh, the floor feels weird.

 

GUHHHHH! ECK... ECK....

 

Little did he know he was on the throat of Douglas, who slowly passed out from the amount of excitement. He could be heard snoring, but Jacobs was oblivious.

 

I am NOT getting blamed for murder.

Jacobs, still not looking down, hopped off of Shane, and took Lacey by the hand, getting ready to kiss it, but she swiped it back like it was her purse.

 

Babe, the only thing you kill, is my doubt that I'm a loser~

She physically cringed.

...I work with idiots...

 

Just then, the sound of a guitar could be heard. Lacey looked at Jimmy with a mean look, thinking he paid off some marachi band to play some sappy love song, but Jacobs put his hands up, shaking his head.

 

We meet once again, Mr & Mrs. Jacobs.

 

In frame came a tall, bulky man. Decorated in scarves, a beard, and some long hair, he played a slow melody on his guitar. Lacey looked like she was about to vomit.

 

We're NOT married.

 

Give it a few years~<3

 

Ah... a hopeless romantic chasing after a ruthless buisness woman then? Such an obession is unhealthy.

 

You got that right.

 

What!? No!

 

Jacobs, who had the height disadvantage, stepped up to the man known as Elias, putting his hands on his hips, and pouted at him.

 

Me and Lacey are lovers! The power couple! Match of The Year!

 

Doesn't ring a bell.

 

Gah! The nerve!

 

Elias' expression was that of a man who didn't seem to care, especially for something as petty as Jacobs' love life. He stopped his guitar playing, took his hand and fished out a few bucks, slapping it on the bar. The bartender collected it with greed, still avoiding eye contact with Lacey, who watched the future tag partners with her arms crossed. 

 

Whiskey, and one for my friend here.

 

What're you even doing here? Can't you see I'm trying to enjoy a drink with the lady?

 

No comment.

 

Elias shook his head, almost dissapointed by Jimmy's naive attitude, as he took a seat next to Lacey, strumming his guitar along.

 

Pittsburgh is my home, love-man. Even a drifter finds his way back to where the wind set him off on his journey. I'd've thought you'd known about your tag team partner better.

 

The only thing he knows is how to paint his nails and hit people.

 

Hmm...

 

The bartender was back, setting two things of whiskey on the bar. Jimmy grumbled, staring daggers into Elias.

 

I know plenty of things, like how you broke my guitar.

 

God, you're so petty.

 

For that, I apologize. I'm not a fan of destroying such great pieces of work, but men such as Zack Sabre Jr.? I make an exception.

 

That's who you need to be be focused on, Jimmy. Not Elias.

 

But-

 

No buts.

 

Elias sighed at Jimmy's testimony to not work with him, shaking his head as he took a chug of the whiskey. He wiped his face when he was done, and looked at Jimmy up and down.

 

Son, let me tell you something. I'll be upfront, and honest about it; I don't like ya. I don't like how you wrestle, how you obsess over a woman, or how you talk, but I do appreciate your resiliance. Every whisper has it's own flow, just like every song's got it's own rhythm, so trust me when I say, you're a weird song. But, every note can be tweaked to improve said song, and that's where I come in. Me and you? We got the same enemies. As annoying as we might be to one another, the fact is, our oppisition is much, much worse.

 

Jimmy, not sure how to reply, looked to Lacey, who nodded in agreement.

 

There's of course, two sides of this tale, Jimmy. On one side, we beat these Zack Sabre Jr. and Austin Theory so bad they don't know if the Earth is flat or round, or, we lose, and have that on our SGW records forever. I need the money to get from town to town, ya' understand? So, we need to win. I've been runnin' low lately, and I can't have my reputation as a musician ruined. I'm sure your, ladyfriend here, doesn't want to lose money neither.

 

 Not in the slightest.

 

Of course! But, how can I trust you?

 

Elias looked at him for a moment dumbfounded, but chuckled.

 

Guess you'll have to put it on faith.

 

Faith was a cruel mistress to Jacobs... he looked down at the floor, deep in thought, but sighed. He didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

 

Well, if it's all the same to you two, let's shake on it. To a fufilling partnership!

 

Elias nodded humblely at Lacey, then looked to Jacobs, reaching out his hands. Jacobs looked at it in disgust, but Lacey with one quick swift to the calf made sure he shook it.

 

Alright! Lacey's Angels is back in action!

 

She put her hand over the two, making it offical. Jacobs was left hopping on one leg as they let go, looking miserable.

 

Now then... as for Shane Douglas' corpse?

 

He's just sleeping, I promise.

 

...That's what they all say.

 

Huh? Oh. Wow, how'd he get there?

 

The camera reered down to Douglas, who was still sleeping like a baby, putting his thumb in his mouth, and throwing his hand up like Adam Cole.

 

Adam-Fuckin'-Cole...Bay-Baaaay....