Saving Professional Wrestling

We open with the sound of a maniacal laugh echoing throughout a hollow, dark room. The only source of light comes from a single desk lamp place upon a oak wood desk. The Superjock of VOW himself sits on top of this desk. The light illuminates his body so we can barely see his face on the screen. He wears a simple black polo shirt and jean shorts as he strokes the scruff on his chin. He shakes his head slightly before he starts clapping. 

Brett Carson: Bravo! Congratulations, Ryan Omega...You got me, Ryan! You caught me red handed, Mr. DWO! 

Carson chuckles uncontrollably as he clutches his stomach.

Brett Carson: IT WAS ME, RYAN! IT WAS ME ALL ALONG! You did it...You fucking did it.

The laughter slowly dies down and his smile disappears to a face of no expression or emotion. 

Brett Carson: Aren't you just the hero, Mega? You see...I'm a man of my word. I made a promise that I would end Patrick Kay Anthony by the end of the night. I thought I did the job with the assault during his match but a little birdy told me later on that Peeks was ready to leave the building on two feet. So I had a little help from my Mazda RX-8 after the show was over. PKA is done. Kaput. And you can thank me for it...

Carson strikes his chest with his middle finger and index finger as he takes a short pause. He stifles a short chuckle as he continues speaking

Brett Carson: But you know, I bet Ryan Omega must be really pleased with himself. He's gotten a lot accomplished in a matter of one night. He's covered ground on what was once his match with Edward Myers, he's made matches but most of all he's proven that he's a coward. A man who hides behind his wife, who hides behind the likes of Vanessa, Stacy Jones and Seifer Black...that is Ryan Omega. 

He flexes his cheeks with a mighty scowl, if he didn't have some respect for his home...he would follow that scowl with a gruesome shot of spit. 

Brett Carson: It's no wonder Steve hired you, for you and him...are one in the same. You both are abusers of power and cowardly human beings who hide behind their authority. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic...

The disdain he has for Ryan and Stefan is quite clear in the tone of his voice. Pure hatred can be felt from the pitch in his normally silky voice. 

Brett Carson: It appears Ryan's "punished" me with a little bit of a  gift. He's handed...practically given two of his close friends two out of the four spots in this upcoming Xcel Championship match. Vanessa and Stacy Jones are those two friends. Two ladies who have plenty in common...Bisexuality...Friendship with Ryan Omega...and doing diddly squat to actually earn a title match. 

Brett simply shrugs his shoulders, a scowl covers his face for a moment. 

Brett Carson: But you know what, with VOW, I expect that. I've been in the ring with Vanessa and Stacy before, I've beaten Stacy and as for Vanessa...

He goes silent for a moment, for his match with Vanessa is one of the plenty matches where he came out on the losing end. His left eye twitches slightly as he balls up both his fists for a moment before sighing and working to calm himself down.

Brett Carson: ...She's the only person in this match who's beaten me. I'm not one to forget, V... Keep that in the back of your psychotic mind. Then that leaves the dark horse in the match...a silent figure who's controlled by a quote unquote mistress in Lillith Lovecraft, he is Scott Knight. 

Carson rubs the back of his neck as he sits quietly now in the darkness. 

Brett Carson: You know...that reminds me of a funny little useless fact that I found out the other day...

Brett hops off the table and walks off camera...The lights in the room slowly increase as we now see that it is indeed a study room of sorts. Brett walks back on with a black leather leash in his hand. The collar has silver studs all around it while the leash itself is made of metal chain. He dangles it in front of the camera...

Brett Carson: I know riddles are Eddie's thing but I figured that now would be a better time than any other to go for one myself...Now it's a simple one so I won't give you too long to figure it out... What does Scott Knight and a Pitbull have in common? Hmm? Guess! Winner gets a gold star. 

He clutches the collar tightly in his grasp with one hand while the other holds the end of the chain. He has a shit-eating grin on his face now as he leans in towards the camera.

Brett Carson: Don't know? Really? Bah, that doesn't really surprise me...but not to worry...as usual I'm here to be your saving grace. What do they both have in common? They both need to be kept on this here collar and leash on a 24/7 basis...or else they don't get their doggy treats and do get a smack on their tail.

Carson swats downwards at the air, to gesture at a smacking of a invisible tail.

Brett Carson: But you see, this dog collar not only represents the slavery that Knight is suffering but it works for representation of Vanessa and Stacy Jones too...They are both tied up by anchors so to speak. Vanessa has been for years I hear...by Dawn Ashby, by Matt Slater and recently by some other boy toy and of course Stacy is tied up metaphorically and probably physically by her bimbo, Tayla.

A young voice from behind the camera begins to giggle as Brett winces at the sound of her voice. It's clear the cameragirl is his recent burden, Morgan Goldward. 

Morgan: Oooohh...kinky!

Brett winces again at the sound of the young teen. He sighs heavily, almost a growl as he shakes his head in disbelief...disbelief that people have glittered the minds of teenagers with immature, perversed thoughts. He shakes off the distraction and continues on.

Brett Carson: I don't have a collar wrapped around my neck and I never will have a collar wrapped around my neck because unlike Vanessa, Stacy and Scott...I'm a professional who needs no guidance. I'm not a lost puppy. Morgan isn't my voice or my manager...she doesn't hold me down...she can hardly hold my pinky down for fucks sake. 

Once again the voice from behind the camera is heard, this time with a scoff. 

Brett Carson: But what separates me from them is that I have nothing that's holding me back...Vanessa has her demons to deal with, Scott Knight and Stacy Jones have each other to deal with...Me? I got rid of my problems. No more PKA, no more Bronx Goldie...NO...MORE...LOSSES.

He leans forward and gets right in the lens of the camera as it takes a moment for the screen to focus. He begins to whisper into the camera...

 Brett Carson: I challenge you to find me someone who wants that Xcel Championship more than I do. Find someone who will work hard enough for that title...I have more to lose here than ever before because if I lose then we are guaranteed a disgraceful champion. 

He leans back again, once again sitting on top of the desk.

Brett Carson: Nothing is going to stop me from walking out of the University of Minnesota Armory, the 2nd ever Xcel Champion! Not the powerhouse Scott Knight, not the ever so evasive Vanessa and not the intelligent ring warrior, Stacy Jones...The only way any of them have a shot in hell of beating me come September the 11th is if they get on my fucking level..

Carson sneers as he grits out his catchphrase. The determination on his face is one we haven't seen for a long, long time. One that's certainly going to cause problems for his opponents when it's time to go to war. 

And with that the scene fades out to the banner for Armed and Dangerous.

 

The mellow voice of young Morgan Goldward is heard as she dances around in the living room of Brett's home, in accordance to the beat of the song playing. She's donning a war helmet as well as camouflage attire, khaki shorts, camo shirt etc etc. It appears that there is two streaks of either black paint or mud drawn directly under her eyes.  She's all prepped up for Armed and Dangerous tomorrow night.

She sings along to the words, thrusting her hips occasionally to the beat of the chorus. 

"WAR! HUH! YEAH! WHHHAAT IS IT GOOD FOR? ABSOLUTELY NOTHIN! SING IT WITH ME NOW, BRETT!" She sings in a thick, manly accent, similar to the one of the singer of the song. 

Carson himself waltzes in to the living room. A look of disdain and shock at the sexual gestures that this 16 year old is pulling. He sneers before walking over to his DVD player and pushes down on the power button, thus cutting off the music. Despite the music stopping Morgan continues to hip thrust for a moment until it finally occurs to her that she's dancing to no music. 

"What the firetruck, Brettykins? Not a fan of Edwin Starr?" She throws her arm out and stretches her neck to the right in an awkward manner (mimicking the "Confused Black Girl"). 

"Get rid of that damn look...You know damn well that I'm preparing for the match tomorrow night. I need quiet Morgan. Silence. No noise. Zip." For the last synonym for silence he simply throws up a "O" sign using his hand. 

"Bah humbug! You're more than prepared, meathead..." She thinks for a moment, biting the nail of her index finger, "...take a chill pill, Bill...uhh...don't fret, Brett?...JEAH!" She fist pumps at her little rhyme she came up with on the spot, making sure she follows the fist pump with a little twirl. 

Carson groans in frustration at the irritating combination of innocence and density that makes up the daughter of the infamous yet just as irritating, Bronx Goldie. From behind Brett's girlfriend of a few months, Jevica Bradshaw wraps her arms around his waist from the side. 

"Aww, cut her some slack, bub. She's enjoying her childhood and innocence. Let her do her thing, babe..." She peacefully defends the trouble making teenager. 

Brett shakes his head at his girlfriend defending the 'nonsense', "She's 16, pretty damn sure she's past being a child..."

Jevica chuckles and shakes her head at Brett's bitter patriarch like lecturing. She walks over and throws an arm around the war-ready Morgan, squeezing her tight, "Don't you worry about him, kiddo. He's just grumpy..." She smiles, eyeing Brett who scoffs slightly before he goes to head back to the peaceful land of his study room. 

Just as he turns around though, his ears pick up a rather soft rattling on his front door. He raises an eyebrow slightly...

"Jev, you expecting someone?!" He raises his voice as he begins to walk back around to the living room, as he turns the corner he finds Morgan has already opened the door. 

"Hi..." She quietly mumbles as Jevica steps up behind her to see who stands outside the house. 

"Hello...Is uh Brett Carson here?" The voice outside the house monotonously asks...

Brett's eyes widen but isn't there for long as anger and annoyance quickly overcome the usually grumpy human being. He sneers at the sound of the familiar voice. Jevica slightly nods before opening the door wider and stepping back allowing the person to step in. In walks a familiar face, a face that Brett hasn't seen or spoken to in a few months. 

"What are you doing here?" He mutters, barely loud enough for everyone in the room to here. 

The man is known to most as Brett's older brother Simon returns the rather unmannerly greeting with a simple, genuine smile. 

"Rumor going around that my baby bro just so happens to be wrestling a championship match on the night of 9/11...So I figured I might pay you a visit and uh...wish you luck I suppose." He nods with a little smirk, Morgan has a rather confused look on her face. 

"This is your brother?" She inquires, puzzled. 

Brett ignores her question and remains glassy-eyed on his brother...a brother that he has a lot of disdain for. 

"Jevica...Could you please take Morgan for a walk to the park or something? Go get groceries from the supermarket or something..." Carson instructs as Simon simply scoffs and shakes his head. It's clear to him that Brett is forcing away his family (more or less) from diving into the life that Brett's rather ashamed of. 

Jevica nods her head before leading Morgan out the door. Morgan of course resists for a moment but Jevica pushes her on. Brett looks down at his carpet for a moment as he waits until the sound of Jevica starting the car and driving off is heard. It's then he looks up towards his own blood with the same glare in his eyes. 

"I'll ask again, Simon...What are you doing here? Can't pay the apartment rent? Money? Your last faggot dump you? Loneliness? What do you want?" Brett gruffly utters out, the tone in his voice suggests that he's not pleased with the silent arrival of his brother. 

Simon runs his hand through the brown hair on his head, "Fuck you...You know I hate that fucking word and you still use it and no...Henry and I are still together..." Simon smirks slightly, "...he anals me every night." He purposefully uses homosexual terms in order to mess with the head of his brother. 

Carson winces before pointing out the door, "You came to wish me luck. Thank you. I don't need luck but thank you. I don't need you and...your faggotry bothering up my mind, door is that way, Simon." Brett grimaces as he closes his eyes in mere pain of those images entering his mind, a mind that really should be focused on his match.

Simon doesn't head that way...instead he moves on over to sitting down on one of the armchairs in Brett's living room. Brett sighs heavily...

"So...I hear you're facing two bisexual chicks.." He grins, purposefully acting smart just to torment his brother, "...How's that going for ya?" He chuckles at the thought of Brett having to face two people who's sexuality is of a direction that Brett practically despises. 

Carson sneers once more, figuring that Simon isn't going to be leaving anytime soon, "It was going well until you joined and reminded me of that disgraceful fact." 

"May I ask how that two women being bisexual is disgraceful of any way?" Simon challenges, astounded by the asshole like nature that his brother possesses. 

Brett scowls slightly as he bitterly replies, "The vision of a champion..." 

He strikes his chest with his index and middle finger, repeating himself, "MY vision of a champion isn't someone like you for example. A homosexual, eccentric like yourself...like Vanessa and like Stacy are not the right image of a PROFESSIONAL wrestling champion." He emphasizes on the word 'professional' as he sits down on an arm chair across from Simon before continuing...

 "The right image is an athlete, an athlete with a skilled and practiced mind, an athlete who doesn't spit on the professionalism of this industry...an athlete like...me. I'm someone who won't disgrace the title...hell, I'm someone that won't disgrace the sport with such unprofessional, immature suggestions towards forms of sex, sorts of suggestions that VOW would dare allow to be caught on camera and then produced so the world can see." He scoffs at the last comment, "PG-14, my ass." 

"But why does their sexuality have anything to do with being a damn champion? Ian Thorpe is gay, he was a great champion of the Olympics...Why not Vanessa or this Stacy chick?" Simon follows up, equaling the bitterness of his brother in his continuous questioning. 

Brett doesn't hesitate to reply, "Because then people who are just like them will think that their sexual escapades won't taint, won't disgrace the professional part of whatever profession they are in...yet alone the one I picked my career to be." Once again he strikes his chest...

 "I won't let them taint this Xcel Championship and what it represents...I refuse to stand by and watch this company be led by a 'champion' who gets cheered on by the perverse male or, dare I say, female demographic because they suggest on a weekly basis that they are going to get down with another female wrestler in the company."

"The last I checked...there isn't a hero who gets his or her popularity because the reveal to the town that they're banging another superhero...that isn't an attribute the fan's hero should have, Simon... that's not the right way to be champion..." Brett continues to ramble on as Simon's anger starts to fade. Carson is passionate about this...truly passionate, "I want the audience to see hard working heroes like me...who actually have a voice for themselves, unlike Scott Knight, and who know how to represent the company... as the best wrestler in the world." 

That's the first time Carson has really thrown out the term, 'best wrestler in the world'. That's the youngsters goal...to be the very best and to save wrestling from brutal, barbaric violence along with adult themes that hide up the art in the sport. 

"I can't let two whores like Stacy and Vanessa hold that championship...It'd be spitting in the face of the hard working, technical wrestlers of the past and it'd be spitting in my face. That's why two women being gay bothers me...because they are brandishing the professionalism of wrestling. I'm not talking bloody, gore wrestling...I'm talking about grappling, catch-as-catch can...shit, you wouldn't know a damn thing about." Brett finishes off his passionate ramble. Simon is taken aback by Brett's heated words. 

"Basically, your philosophy is that gay people shit on professionalism in sports? Is that what you're saying?" Simon begins the get up out of the chair. 

"What I'm saying is that this sport is ridiculed enough as it is for the vile blood it produces. I'm saving it from being even more ridiculed by a society that doesn't necessarily appreciate homosexual people...I appreciate the visit." Brett comments one last time, eyeing his elder brother with the same glassy eye from before. Simon shakes his head in fury before making his way to the door...

"And FYI...That gay ass Australian fucker hasn't won a medal since coming out." Brett refers to the Ian Thorpe comment that Simon made from earlier as his brother slams the front door behind him. 

Brett runs his hand through his hair...he wasn't lying to Simon. All that was his true feelings...Brett was passionate about pure wrestling. Goodness knows what he might do if Vanessa, Scott or Stacy beat him. 

Will they beat him? Or will he finally give VOW the 'right' champion he's been talking about for months? Stay Tuned.