Post by Sidney J. Warwick on Dec 2, 2018 23:54:34 GMT -5
(We are in the Heathrow Airport in London, England. As with any major international airport, the hallways are overflowing with weary travelers. Among them we see the Action Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, Sidney J. Warwick, standing several inches taller than the average man and with broad, powerful shoulders that set him apart from the rest of the crowd. The champion is clearly looking for his gate, as he is dressed comfortably for travel and pulls a wheeled carry-on suitcase behind him. As Warwick darts in and out among other airline passengers, a loud, heavily-accented voice can be heard ringing out above the hustle and bustle of Heathrow.)
Voice: Sidney! Mr. Warwick! Sidney!
(Given that he is not one of the more popular members of the Action Wrestling roster, SJW is surprised to hear what he assumes to be a fan calling out to him, so he stops and looks for the source of the noise, whereas a wrestler more used to the fanbase's adulation might just ignore the calls and move along.
When he looks over his shoulder, he sees one slightly familiar face among the teeming masses.)
Sidney: Chauncey Bucksworth?
(The voice in fact belongs to Chauncey Bucksworth III, the BBC Three presenter who interviewed Warwick just prior to his recent successful title defense at the Turmoili pay per view. Sidney seems confused about the appearance by the television host. Bucksworth runs up to Warwick, and the two begin to converse as a stream of travelers is forced to dodge and weave around them.)
Sidney: What a coincidence that we would run into each other here. Where are you travelling to?
Chauncey: Actually, Sidney, I'm not flyin' anywhere. I came here to see you.
Sidney: You came here to see me? About what?
Chauncey: Well, I just wanted to let you know that I have some family members who live in the Boston area, and I'm going to be visitin' 'em 'ere in a bit for Christmas. I thought maybe if you were gonna be on the east coast 'round then we could meet up an' 'ave a pint or somethin'.
Sidney: I'm not quite sure where Action Wrestling will be sending me around that time yet - they're notoriously bad about letting us know about our bookings in advance - but, sure, look me up if you're in the area. Besides, I . . .
(Before SJW can finish his sentence, he is interrupted by a buzzing sensation on his wrist, as his Apple Watch alerts him that there is an incoming call on his iPhone X, which he fishes out of his fanny pack. Yes, he's wearing a fanny pack, because he's a professional wrestler.)
Sidney: If you'll excuse me, I need to take this. It's the office, so it's likely to be about my next match.
(Warwick, in fact, proceeds to take the call. He does much more listening than he does talking, a rarity for him. As the conversation goes on, he looks more and more withdrawn.)
Sidney: All right, then. Fourteen person tag match. I suppose I can do that. Goodbye.
(The champion hangs up his phone.)
Sidney: Well, that sure is something . . . first this company has the Beach Crew quadruple team me so that Wade Moor - their chosen one - can win the Wrestler of the Year tournament. Then they have me defend my championship against not one but two opponents on pay per view. Now, they've booked me into what is bound to be a chaotic match with over a dozen competitors all while that damned All In briefcase hanging over my head like the proverbial Sword of Damocles. This is practically the perfect setup for me to lose my championship, all without being booked into an official title match.
And for course they're doing all of this after I decided to spend an extra week touring Europe to relax after the first successful World Title defense of my career. They're going to want me to work extra hard to promote that match, despite having virtually no time to do it.
Chauncey: Well, 'ow much time do ya 'ave before ya flight leaves?
(Sidney looks back to his Apple Watch.)
Sidney: About thirty minutes.
Chauncey: I'd be glad to 'elp you. If you want, we can just record some footage wit' me phone, an' all make sure it gets passed along to the powers that be in AW. We'd just 'ave to make sure that we do it quickly.
Sidney: So I've got thirteen wrestlers to run down in less than thirty minutes? I've done crazier things. Let's go.
(Our view switches from the two men having a conversation to Sidney sitting in profile at a table at a Subway in the airport terminal. Subway: Eat Fresh. He is clearly being filmed on Chauncey's phone.)
Sidney: December 3. Las Vegas, Nevada. Monday Night Clash. Fourteen of Action Wrestling's top stars enter the ring together for what is likely to be a bona fide donnybrook. This may be a match featuring two teams of seven, but let's be honest here for a moment. Nobody on these teams chose to be a part of them. Yes, there are some established factions in the mix, but the factions are teaming with individuals that they would normally prefer not to team with, and the competitors who exist completely outside of those factions - like yours truly, for example - want absolutely no part of this encounter.
Thus, in some ways, I feel as though I have thirteen opponents as opposed to seven opponents and six partners. I feel that way in particular because any one of these individuals could be the one who, intentionally or not, could be the one who sets up Mr. Ryan Lockhart's latest effort to steal the Action Wrestling World Championship from around my waist.
With thirteen other individuals in the ring, any one of whom could bring an end of the downfall of the greatest accomplishment of my career, I feel that it is only appropriate that I address each and every one of them here, though I only have a limited amount of time in which to do it.
Here goes.
Spencer Adams . . . the man who calls who calls himself "The Antidote," though I'm not certain what of society's ills he feels he is curing. Mr. Adams, you and the rest of your crew in Fight Smart saved me from a recent cash-in attempt by Ryan Lockhart, though I have to ask myself whether that save was intentional or whether I just happened to benefit from other circumstances. Whether intentional or not, you owed me that save, Mr. Adams. You are the man who currently holds the record for AW's longest World Title reign, but ask yourself a question, Spencer: Would you have had that epic title run without me?
Think about it. Who was your backup? Who was your muscle? Who was the one that ran interference for you time and time and time again?
Can't think of it? Let me remind you . . . it was the man in the mask.
Kyle Kemp . . . Kemp is the definition of the white, heterosexual, cisgender man who continually burns out but still gets opportunity after opportunity because of his whiteness, heterosexuality, and cis-ness. He's the Mark Wahlberg of professional wrestling, somebody who has managed to build a career off of looking pretty and being inoffensive to racist suburban soccer moms all while having only the minimum amount of talent necessary in order to compete at a high level. Mr. Kemp, you and I are on the same side of the ring this week, and what I'll need you to do in order to guarantee our success is to sit back and listen to my direction. I think that I might be able to guide you through this one.
Lincoln Kuechly . . . Lincoln seems like a man always looking for an opportunity to break out of the pack and make a name for himself, but the problem is that he's put himself into a situation in his stable in which he is always going to be the third banana, because the authority within this promotion is always going to promote Fight Smart around Spencer Adams, and they are always going to let Kyle Kemp, for all of his failings, be the first runner up. Mr. Kuechly, of all the names on my roster of partners, I am the happiest to see you there, because your time being a glorified manservant for the rest of Fight Smart means that you know how to be a role player, and your role this week is to make sure that our team takes home the victory.
Karlie Nash . . . Karlie, Karlie, Karlie. You spent weeks if not months complaining about how referees were out to get you, kvetching about being screwed over and being unable to get a fair shake. Then, Turmoil happened, and I pinned you clean as a sheet in the middle of the ring. What did that tell you, Karlie? Did you finally get it through your head that the problem might be you and not just the officiating? The thing is that you have always had the tools to be a major star in this industry, but you've gotten into your own head and prevented your own success, most recently hanging around with this pathetic breeder Nikki Vaughn and trying to become a tag team wrestler when we both know your ego will never allow it. Help me out on Monday, Karlie, and I might just help you in turn by making sure your career trajectory reverses.
L Verez . . . Speaking of people who I defeated at turmoil, here's the woman who thought that everybody would be taking this belt off of me. Yes, it's the TRANS IN SPACE herself, L Verez. L, based on the online reaction to our match, some of your fans have a gripe with how I defeated you, essentially saying that I "stole" the pinfall that you set up over Karlie Nash. I'm sure that Gravedigger and Torture, booking geniuses that they are, will use that to book a rematch between the two of us down the road, whether involving Karlie Nash again or not. So, don't worry, if you truly are the better wrestler, you'll have your opportunity to prove it again in the not-too-distant future. Forget about that for the time being, though. What I want you to focus on is the fact that we are teaming with Fight Smart here, with Spencer Adams, one of the two cis men who Action Wrestling decided that they were going to make the main event of Turmoil over us, even though we were wrestling for the World Heavyweight Championship. Remember that, L. Remember how cast aside it made you feel. It's time for you and I to take those feelings of hurt and channel them into something constructive, like outperforming Spencer Adams in this tag team match where he is our partner. Let's do it, L.
Andre Aquarius . . . Andre, I have to say that I don't know too much about you as a competitor. You were on your way out the door as I was on my way in back in the WCF, and, in Action Wrestling, you've been more of a sidepiece for Fight Smart than you have an actual competitor. I hope that you've been hitting the gym, and I hope that you've knocked off any ring rust that has no doubt accumulated. If that's not the case and you put me in a position where I lose my championship, so help me non-existent god, I will make it my personal mission to ensure that you are made even less relevant than you have been by acting as the Flava Flav to Spencer Adams' Chuck D.
And now, we move on to the opposition.
Craig Lewis . . . I have absolutely no idea who you are, but your name alone makes it sound as though you should be sitting in the fifth row with a couple of your illegitimate children and a jumbo-sized popcorn, not in the ring with the biggest stars that this industry has to offer.
Alexander Pasternak . . . his name is Alexander Pasternak . . . and there's a million things he hasn't done . . . but I hope you don't wait. I hope you don't wait. The reason I hope you don't wait is that, despite having a hot return to professional wrestling recently with the newly reformed Beach Crew, Mr. Pasternak may be one of this promotions biggest wash-outs, and I'm not even going to apologize for stealing your stable's gimmick of making lame beach puns with that one. Alex, your return was a real nice declaration, but welcome to the present, A-Dub is running a real promotion. That means, like it or not, you're going to throw away your shot, just as you've done with every single opportunity that you've been handed over the last few years.
Jared Holmes . . . much like Andrew Aquarius, we've got another WCF has been now playing manager in AW. Mr. Holes refers to himself as "The King in Yellow" these days, and he's attempting to lead a violent uprising with the Breach Crew. I hope that Mr. Holmes has been watching the news, because there's been another violent uprising lead by men in yellow unfolding in the streets of France over the last several weeks, as the working-class Yellow Vest movement attempts to protest additional motor fuel taxation. Yes, that's right, I'm comparing a professional wrestling stable to a political movement in France. What are you going to do about it? Here's my point, Mr. Holmes. You need to watch the Yellow Vests, and you need to watch closely. Occasionally, there is an insurgency that is effective and brings about the change that it intends to. France's own history proves that. However, more often than not, the existing power structure squashes that insurgency flat and does it very efficiently. As much as I like to say that I represent change within the professional wrestling industry, you could argue that holding the championship that I do makes me part of the establishment, and this part of the establishment fully intends to crush your insurgency flat.
Ryan Lockhart . . . you've attempted to cash in on me at least twice now. However, despite your efforts, I still have the World Title belt. Well, I don't actually have it right now. It's in my checked luggage, but you know what I mean. To use a metaphor from another sport, cashing in a briefcase like the one that you have is supposed to be the pro wrestling equivalent of sinking in undefended layup in basketball. Yes, I am still a bit concerned that the chaotic circumstances that are likely to arise in this fourteen-person match will give Mr. Lockhart the best opportunity that he has had yet to become a World Champion, but I've not been impressed by the fact that you've tried and failed twice now, Ryan. It's becoming apparent that, left to your own devices, you simply will not have what it takes.
Wade Moor . . . I've heard what some fans have been saying about Wade Moor. They're saying that Wade Moor, the Wrestler of the Year, has Sidney J. Warwick's number. He knocked me out of that prestigious tournament, and he also was a key part of the conspiracy that forced me out of the WCF. With that track record, there has been speculation among fans that he may be the one to unseat me for this championship. Here's the thing, though, Mr. Moor. You've managed to get one up on me on a couple of different occasions now, but, every time that you have done that, you've had somebody helping you out. In the WCF, it was Stephen Singh and Dune. In Action Wrestling, it was the rest of your Beach Crew. You have yet to encounter me in a fair fight, and it's getting to the point that I wonder if you are terrified of doing so. When we meet each other this coming Monday night, it will be the closest thing that we have had to a fair fight yet, and I look forward to proving that, with all of your tricks and underhanded tactics removed from the equation, I am the better man.
Big John Frost . . . of course, this was the big shocker at Turmoil. Big John Frost returns alongside his former hated rival TFK in order to lay out all three competitors in the World Title match, immediately establishing TFK as a force in that division. Note what I said, Frost. I said that TFK was established as a force in the World Title division. You are nothing more than his backup, his muscle. You've essentially conceded that, despite all of your history and past battles, that TFK is the better man. You've tucked your tail in between your legs and are now nothing more than a glorified flunkie. Heck, you might as well just go ahead and downgrade yourself to the level of an Andre Aquarius or a Jared Holmes right now. You might only be a step or two over Craig Lewis, and I'm still not entirely certain who that is. You have managed to transform yourself into a non-factor, Mr. Frost.
Thaddeus Franklin King . . . otherwise known as TFK. Given Mr. Frost's track record, I know that you were the mastermind of that attack, TFK. I know that you're sending a message that you think you ought to be in the lofty position that I currently occupy. What have you done to earn it, though? Yes, you are a two-time United States Champion, but what that means to me is that you also LOST the United States Championship twice, and you lost again when you had to face Sam Kidsgrove in the United Kingdom. Just like Karlie Nash and L Verez, you're trying to position yourself as a World Title contender despite being on a losing streak coming in to the potential championship encounter. You can't "fail up" into being a World Champion. You have to have momentum on your side. I look forward to teaching you that in a singles match, and I'm going to give you a preview when we stand on opposite sides of the ring on this week's Clash.
(At the conclusion of this sentence, Warwick, who has been talking at a mile a minute in order to meet with his time constraints, deeply exhales and slumps back in his chair as Chauncey Bucksworth ends filming and steps out from behind his camera.)
Chauncey: That was excellent, Sid! I can't believe you pulled all that at so quickly an' jus' off the top o' your 'ead as well! Phenomenal!
Sidney: Thank you, Chauncey. I feel like I've already suffered from jet lag, and I haven't even gotten on to my plane yet. Speaking of which, I had better get back to the gate. They're sure to announce boarding for my group any minute now.
Chauncey: Oh, well, OK then. I suppose I'll see you 'round Christmas, assuming that you're free.
Sidney: Yes, I suppose so. Wait a minute . . . earlier you said you were here in the airport, but you weren't flying anywhere.
Chauncey: That's right.
Sidney: You're not flying anywhere, but you ran up to me when I was through the gate. How did you get through security and the gate if you weren't a ticketed passenger on one of the flights?
Chauncey: Oh, well . . . uhhh . . .
(Chauncey is clearly nervous and begins fidgeting with a piece of paper that he has removed from his pocket which falls out of his hands and on to the table. Warwick quickly grabs and examines it.)
Sidney: This is an airline ticket to Oslo. One way. Are you sure that you're not going anywhere?
Chauncey: I'm . . . not.
Sidney: You're sure? Then what are you doing this this ticket?
Chauncey: Well, you see, I wanted to get ta' ya before ya left the country but by the time I got 'ere you'd already made it through security, so I jus' bought the first ticket that I could to get through an' have a conversation wit' ya is all.
Sidney: You . . . bought a ticket to Oslo just so that you could talk to me?
Chauncey: . . . yes.
Sidney: And you don't plan to actually fly to Oslo.
Chauncey: No.
Sidney: You're an odd man, Chauncey Bucksworth.
(Bucksworth looks dejected.)
Sidney: But I'll see you in a few weeks in Boston.
(A glimmer of hope appears in Chauncey Bucksworth's eyes as Sidney Warwick gets up, pulls out the handle of his rollaway carry-on, and begins walking towards his gate. Our scene fades to black.)
Voice: Sidney! Mr. Warwick! Sidney!
(Given that he is not one of the more popular members of the Action Wrestling roster, SJW is surprised to hear what he assumes to be a fan calling out to him, so he stops and looks for the source of the noise, whereas a wrestler more used to the fanbase's adulation might just ignore the calls and move along.
When he looks over his shoulder, he sees one slightly familiar face among the teeming masses.)
Sidney: Chauncey Bucksworth?
(The voice in fact belongs to Chauncey Bucksworth III, the BBC Three presenter who interviewed Warwick just prior to his recent successful title defense at the Turmoili pay per view. Sidney seems confused about the appearance by the television host. Bucksworth runs up to Warwick, and the two begin to converse as a stream of travelers is forced to dodge and weave around them.)
Sidney: What a coincidence that we would run into each other here. Where are you travelling to?
Chauncey: Actually, Sidney, I'm not flyin' anywhere. I came here to see you.
Sidney: You came here to see me? About what?
Chauncey: Well, I just wanted to let you know that I have some family members who live in the Boston area, and I'm going to be visitin' 'em 'ere in a bit for Christmas. I thought maybe if you were gonna be on the east coast 'round then we could meet up an' 'ave a pint or somethin'.
Sidney: I'm not quite sure where Action Wrestling will be sending me around that time yet - they're notoriously bad about letting us know about our bookings in advance - but, sure, look me up if you're in the area. Besides, I . . .
(Before SJW can finish his sentence, he is interrupted by a buzzing sensation on his wrist, as his Apple Watch alerts him that there is an incoming call on his iPhone X, which he fishes out of his fanny pack. Yes, he's wearing a fanny pack, because he's a professional wrestler.)
Sidney: If you'll excuse me, I need to take this. It's the office, so it's likely to be about my next match.
(Warwick, in fact, proceeds to take the call. He does much more listening than he does talking, a rarity for him. As the conversation goes on, he looks more and more withdrawn.)
Sidney: All right, then. Fourteen person tag match. I suppose I can do that. Goodbye.
(The champion hangs up his phone.)
Sidney: Well, that sure is something . . . first this company has the Beach Crew quadruple team me so that Wade Moor - their chosen one - can win the Wrestler of the Year tournament. Then they have me defend my championship against not one but two opponents on pay per view. Now, they've booked me into what is bound to be a chaotic match with over a dozen competitors all while that damned All In briefcase hanging over my head like the proverbial Sword of Damocles. This is practically the perfect setup for me to lose my championship, all without being booked into an official title match.
And for course they're doing all of this after I decided to spend an extra week touring Europe to relax after the first successful World Title defense of my career. They're going to want me to work extra hard to promote that match, despite having virtually no time to do it.
Chauncey: Well, 'ow much time do ya 'ave before ya flight leaves?
(Sidney looks back to his Apple Watch.)
Sidney: About thirty minutes.
Chauncey: I'd be glad to 'elp you. If you want, we can just record some footage wit' me phone, an' all make sure it gets passed along to the powers that be in AW. We'd just 'ave to make sure that we do it quickly.
Sidney: So I've got thirteen wrestlers to run down in less than thirty minutes? I've done crazier things. Let's go.
(Our view switches from the two men having a conversation to Sidney sitting in profile at a table at a Subway in the airport terminal. Subway: Eat Fresh. He is clearly being filmed on Chauncey's phone.)
Sidney: December 3. Las Vegas, Nevada. Monday Night Clash. Fourteen of Action Wrestling's top stars enter the ring together for what is likely to be a bona fide donnybrook. This may be a match featuring two teams of seven, but let's be honest here for a moment. Nobody on these teams chose to be a part of them. Yes, there are some established factions in the mix, but the factions are teaming with individuals that they would normally prefer not to team with, and the competitors who exist completely outside of those factions - like yours truly, for example - want absolutely no part of this encounter.
Thus, in some ways, I feel as though I have thirteen opponents as opposed to seven opponents and six partners. I feel that way in particular because any one of these individuals could be the one who, intentionally or not, could be the one who sets up Mr. Ryan Lockhart's latest effort to steal the Action Wrestling World Championship from around my waist.
With thirteen other individuals in the ring, any one of whom could bring an end of the downfall of the greatest accomplishment of my career, I feel that it is only appropriate that I address each and every one of them here, though I only have a limited amount of time in which to do it.
Here goes.
Spencer Adams . . . the man who calls who calls himself "The Antidote," though I'm not certain what of society's ills he feels he is curing. Mr. Adams, you and the rest of your crew in Fight Smart saved me from a recent cash-in attempt by Ryan Lockhart, though I have to ask myself whether that save was intentional or whether I just happened to benefit from other circumstances. Whether intentional or not, you owed me that save, Mr. Adams. You are the man who currently holds the record for AW's longest World Title reign, but ask yourself a question, Spencer: Would you have had that epic title run without me?
Think about it. Who was your backup? Who was your muscle? Who was the one that ran interference for you time and time and time again?
Can't think of it? Let me remind you . . . it was the man in the mask.
Kyle Kemp . . . Kemp is the definition of the white, heterosexual, cisgender man who continually burns out but still gets opportunity after opportunity because of his whiteness, heterosexuality, and cis-ness. He's the Mark Wahlberg of professional wrestling, somebody who has managed to build a career off of looking pretty and being inoffensive to racist suburban soccer moms all while having only the minimum amount of talent necessary in order to compete at a high level. Mr. Kemp, you and I are on the same side of the ring this week, and what I'll need you to do in order to guarantee our success is to sit back and listen to my direction. I think that I might be able to guide you through this one.
Lincoln Kuechly . . . Lincoln seems like a man always looking for an opportunity to break out of the pack and make a name for himself, but the problem is that he's put himself into a situation in his stable in which he is always going to be the third banana, because the authority within this promotion is always going to promote Fight Smart around Spencer Adams, and they are always going to let Kyle Kemp, for all of his failings, be the first runner up. Mr. Kuechly, of all the names on my roster of partners, I am the happiest to see you there, because your time being a glorified manservant for the rest of Fight Smart means that you know how to be a role player, and your role this week is to make sure that our team takes home the victory.
Karlie Nash . . . Karlie, Karlie, Karlie. You spent weeks if not months complaining about how referees were out to get you, kvetching about being screwed over and being unable to get a fair shake. Then, Turmoil happened, and I pinned you clean as a sheet in the middle of the ring. What did that tell you, Karlie? Did you finally get it through your head that the problem might be you and not just the officiating? The thing is that you have always had the tools to be a major star in this industry, but you've gotten into your own head and prevented your own success, most recently hanging around with this pathetic breeder Nikki Vaughn and trying to become a tag team wrestler when we both know your ego will never allow it. Help me out on Monday, Karlie, and I might just help you in turn by making sure your career trajectory reverses.
L Verez . . . Speaking of people who I defeated at turmoil, here's the woman who thought that everybody would be taking this belt off of me. Yes, it's the TRANS IN SPACE herself, L Verez. L, based on the online reaction to our match, some of your fans have a gripe with how I defeated you, essentially saying that I "stole" the pinfall that you set up over Karlie Nash. I'm sure that Gravedigger and Torture, booking geniuses that they are, will use that to book a rematch between the two of us down the road, whether involving Karlie Nash again or not. So, don't worry, if you truly are the better wrestler, you'll have your opportunity to prove it again in the not-too-distant future. Forget about that for the time being, though. What I want you to focus on is the fact that we are teaming with Fight Smart here, with Spencer Adams, one of the two cis men who Action Wrestling decided that they were going to make the main event of Turmoil over us, even though we were wrestling for the World Heavyweight Championship. Remember that, L. Remember how cast aside it made you feel. It's time for you and I to take those feelings of hurt and channel them into something constructive, like outperforming Spencer Adams in this tag team match where he is our partner. Let's do it, L.
Andre Aquarius . . . Andre, I have to say that I don't know too much about you as a competitor. You were on your way out the door as I was on my way in back in the WCF, and, in Action Wrestling, you've been more of a sidepiece for Fight Smart than you have an actual competitor. I hope that you've been hitting the gym, and I hope that you've knocked off any ring rust that has no doubt accumulated. If that's not the case and you put me in a position where I lose my championship, so help me non-existent god, I will make it my personal mission to ensure that you are made even less relevant than you have been by acting as the Flava Flav to Spencer Adams' Chuck D.
And now, we move on to the opposition.
Craig Lewis . . . I have absolutely no idea who you are, but your name alone makes it sound as though you should be sitting in the fifth row with a couple of your illegitimate children and a jumbo-sized popcorn, not in the ring with the biggest stars that this industry has to offer.
Alexander Pasternak . . . his name is Alexander Pasternak . . . and there's a million things he hasn't done . . . but I hope you don't wait. I hope you don't wait. The reason I hope you don't wait is that, despite having a hot return to professional wrestling recently with the newly reformed Beach Crew, Mr. Pasternak may be one of this promotions biggest wash-outs, and I'm not even going to apologize for stealing your stable's gimmick of making lame beach puns with that one. Alex, your return was a real nice declaration, but welcome to the present, A-Dub is running a real promotion. That means, like it or not, you're going to throw away your shot, just as you've done with every single opportunity that you've been handed over the last few years.
Jared Holmes . . . much like Andrew Aquarius, we've got another WCF has been now playing manager in AW. Mr. Holes refers to himself as "The King in Yellow" these days, and he's attempting to lead a violent uprising with the Breach Crew. I hope that Mr. Holmes has been watching the news, because there's been another violent uprising lead by men in yellow unfolding in the streets of France over the last several weeks, as the working-class Yellow Vest movement attempts to protest additional motor fuel taxation. Yes, that's right, I'm comparing a professional wrestling stable to a political movement in France. What are you going to do about it? Here's my point, Mr. Holmes. You need to watch the Yellow Vests, and you need to watch closely. Occasionally, there is an insurgency that is effective and brings about the change that it intends to. France's own history proves that. However, more often than not, the existing power structure squashes that insurgency flat and does it very efficiently. As much as I like to say that I represent change within the professional wrestling industry, you could argue that holding the championship that I do makes me part of the establishment, and this part of the establishment fully intends to crush your insurgency flat.
Ryan Lockhart . . . you've attempted to cash in on me at least twice now. However, despite your efforts, I still have the World Title belt. Well, I don't actually have it right now. It's in my checked luggage, but you know what I mean. To use a metaphor from another sport, cashing in a briefcase like the one that you have is supposed to be the pro wrestling equivalent of sinking in undefended layup in basketball. Yes, I am still a bit concerned that the chaotic circumstances that are likely to arise in this fourteen-person match will give Mr. Lockhart the best opportunity that he has had yet to become a World Champion, but I've not been impressed by the fact that you've tried and failed twice now, Ryan. It's becoming apparent that, left to your own devices, you simply will not have what it takes.
Wade Moor . . . I've heard what some fans have been saying about Wade Moor. They're saying that Wade Moor, the Wrestler of the Year, has Sidney J. Warwick's number. He knocked me out of that prestigious tournament, and he also was a key part of the conspiracy that forced me out of the WCF. With that track record, there has been speculation among fans that he may be the one to unseat me for this championship. Here's the thing, though, Mr. Moor. You've managed to get one up on me on a couple of different occasions now, but, every time that you have done that, you've had somebody helping you out. In the WCF, it was Stephen Singh and Dune. In Action Wrestling, it was the rest of your Beach Crew. You have yet to encounter me in a fair fight, and it's getting to the point that I wonder if you are terrified of doing so. When we meet each other this coming Monday night, it will be the closest thing that we have had to a fair fight yet, and I look forward to proving that, with all of your tricks and underhanded tactics removed from the equation, I am the better man.
Big John Frost . . . of course, this was the big shocker at Turmoil. Big John Frost returns alongside his former hated rival TFK in order to lay out all three competitors in the World Title match, immediately establishing TFK as a force in that division. Note what I said, Frost. I said that TFK was established as a force in the World Title division. You are nothing more than his backup, his muscle. You've essentially conceded that, despite all of your history and past battles, that TFK is the better man. You've tucked your tail in between your legs and are now nothing more than a glorified flunkie. Heck, you might as well just go ahead and downgrade yourself to the level of an Andre Aquarius or a Jared Holmes right now. You might only be a step or two over Craig Lewis, and I'm still not entirely certain who that is. You have managed to transform yourself into a non-factor, Mr. Frost.
Thaddeus Franklin King . . . otherwise known as TFK. Given Mr. Frost's track record, I know that you were the mastermind of that attack, TFK. I know that you're sending a message that you think you ought to be in the lofty position that I currently occupy. What have you done to earn it, though? Yes, you are a two-time United States Champion, but what that means to me is that you also LOST the United States Championship twice, and you lost again when you had to face Sam Kidsgrove in the United Kingdom. Just like Karlie Nash and L Verez, you're trying to position yourself as a World Title contender despite being on a losing streak coming in to the potential championship encounter. You can't "fail up" into being a World Champion. You have to have momentum on your side. I look forward to teaching you that in a singles match, and I'm going to give you a preview when we stand on opposite sides of the ring on this week's Clash.
(At the conclusion of this sentence, Warwick, who has been talking at a mile a minute in order to meet with his time constraints, deeply exhales and slumps back in his chair as Chauncey Bucksworth ends filming and steps out from behind his camera.)
Chauncey: That was excellent, Sid! I can't believe you pulled all that at so quickly an' jus' off the top o' your 'ead as well! Phenomenal!
Sidney: Thank you, Chauncey. I feel like I've already suffered from jet lag, and I haven't even gotten on to my plane yet. Speaking of which, I had better get back to the gate. They're sure to announce boarding for my group any minute now.
Chauncey: Oh, well, OK then. I suppose I'll see you 'round Christmas, assuming that you're free.
Sidney: Yes, I suppose so. Wait a minute . . . earlier you said you were here in the airport, but you weren't flying anywhere.
Chauncey: That's right.
Sidney: You're not flying anywhere, but you ran up to me when I was through the gate. How did you get through security and the gate if you weren't a ticketed passenger on one of the flights?
Chauncey: Oh, well . . . uhhh . . .
(Chauncey is clearly nervous and begins fidgeting with a piece of paper that he has removed from his pocket which falls out of his hands and on to the table. Warwick quickly grabs and examines it.)
Sidney: This is an airline ticket to Oslo. One way. Are you sure that you're not going anywhere?
Chauncey: I'm . . . not.
Sidney: You're sure? Then what are you doing this this ticket?
Chauncey: Well, you see, I wanted to get ta' ya before ya left the country but by the time I got 'ere you'd already made it through security, so I jus' bought the first ticket that I could to get through an' have a conversation wit' ya is all.
Sidney: You . . . bought a ticket to Oslo just so that you could talk to me?
Chauncey: . . . yes.
Sidney: And you don't plan to actually fly to Oslo.
Chauncey: No.
Sidney: You're an odd man, Chauncey Bucksworth.
(Bucksworth looks dejected.)
Sidney: But I'll see you in a few weeks in Boston.
(A glimmer of hope appears in Chauncey Bucksworth's eyes as Sidney Warwick gets up, pulls out the handle of his rollaway carry-on, and begins walking towards his gate. Our scene fades to black.)