The People vs The United States Championship Deleted Scene
Nov 18, 2020 18:50:34 GMT -5
Orret the Match Writer and Howard Black like this
Post by Stuart Slane on Nov 18, 2020 18:50:34 GMT -5
OOC: Originally written to be part of my rp for the Clash 100 Battle Royal but didn't have room for it. Thought I could cannibalize it for Turmoil, but that won't work either. Figured I'd just post it here.
The Chickasaw County Sheriff and the Department of Social Services arrived unannounced at the Wilder Farm. They came without a warrant, which thankfully limited the scope of their inspection, but even so Stuart knew this supposed ‘wellness check’ could lead to disaster. The scheduled visits from the Office of Child Welfare and Attendance were daunting enough for Slane and his faux family. There were so many lies the children under scrutiny had to recall and regurgitate to the expectant authority figures. Children, who, before being brought into Camp Slane, lived lives of unimaginable hardships. Children, who, if their stories slipped even the slightest, could cause suspicion, further investigation, and ultimately exposure. And that would lead to the end of everything.
They were too young for such a burden.
These three were not only trying to keep themselves free, but their eleven fellow refugees. Yes, Stuart too, would suffer if it became known he was harboring undocumented minors, especially given the current political climate. He’d face federal felony indictments, and likely imprisonment. His time as a wrestler would definitely be over. Slane had a history of bullying and verbally abusing the children he led as a Scoutmaster, and who had given up custody of his own children after acknowledging they were better off without him. Reveal him as a ‘human trafficker’? And he was done.
But none of those consequences came close to what would happen to Stuart’s fourteen charges. They’d be taken into custody, separated, and caged like animals. Eventually all would likely be returned to their native countries. They’d be wards of the states they were originally fleeing from.
The punishment did not fit the crime.
All they needed, all Stuart was trying to give them, was a chance here, in the country he grew up believing was an endless well-spring of opportunity. You worked hard, you played fair, and you were rewarded.
His children abided by those rules. He had taught them. Stuart might not have been the most empathetic or nurturing of caregivers, but he knew how to make them citizens and survivors.
If only they were given that chance America was supposed to give everyone, they’d thrive.
Instead they spent their days living in fear. Every act, every decision, had to be scrutinized to ensure it would not draw attention to them. For the most part, the children performed their roles admirably. If anyone was shirking their duty it was keeping Camp Slane safe, it was Stuart himself for resuming his wrestling career. Circe had told him as much, and supported his decision to return anyway.
Circe Cicero was too good for him.
He stood in his kitchen, in his ridiculous “Wlibur Wilder” disguise, feeling a mixture of fear and embarrassment of being found out, of being the one responsible for the police poking around; of being the reason agents from Social Services were asking questions to the three children that were officially recognized by the state. False IDs and adoption papers, obtained at great cost, made them ‘legitimate’ in the eyes of the law.
Stuart was getting more than a little sick of the Law. And the rules. And the pompous, self-important authority figures that used them to hold people, his people, down.
He was tired of the excuses that these men and women were just doing their jobs; that the law was there to protect the weak and marginalized. It was not. It existed to maintain the status quo, and anyone willing to appraise the world as it currently was realized the status quo was unsustainable.
If they got out of this, Stuart decided, if the authorities left satisfied with the dog and pony show he and his children performed for them, they could no longer expect to live within the suffocating confines of the status quo in any capacity.
In the ‘real world’, that meant finding a safer location for Camp Slane, and a better way to meet its charges’ needs (both man and swine).
In the ‘unreal world’, that meant it was time for Stuart Slane to make a statement, and how fortunate for him he was being given the perfect venue to do so: a Battle Royal for the United States Championship at Monday Night Clash’s one hundredth episode.
All he would have to do was win.
Stuart Slane would win, because he was fighting for stakes far greater than any of his opponents.
Stuart Slane was fighting to remind institutions that they exist and possess power only because the people allow them to. If they do not meet their obligations they are to be challenged, and to make changes.
Action Wrestling was not meeting its obligations to Stuart.
His vow to destroy their precious United States Championship was the challenge.
And the change would come when he replaced it with a belt in line with his vision.
A title that honored His People: as small in number they may be.
“The People vs The United States Championship” Deleted Scene: People’s Exhibit A
The Chickasaw County Sheriff and the Department of Social Services arrived unannounced at the Wilder Farm. They came without a warrant, which thankfully limited the scope of their inspection, but even so Stuart knew this supposed ‘wellness check’ could lead to disaster. The scheduled visits from the Office of Child Welfare and Attendance were daunting enough for Slane and his faux family. There were so many lies the children under scrutiny had to recall and regurgitate to the expectant authority figures. Children, who, before being brought into Camp Slane, lived lives of unimaginable hardships. Children, who, if their stories slipped even the slightest, could cause suspicion, further investigation, and ultimately exposure. And that would lead to the end of everything.
They were too young for such a burden.
These three were not only trying to keep themselves free, but their eleven fellow refugees. Yes, Stuart too, would suffer if it became known he was harboring undocumented minors, especially given the current political climate. He’d face federal felony indictments, and likely imprisonment. His time as a wrestler would definitely be over. Slane had a history of bullying and verbally abusing the children he led as a Scoutmaster, and who had given up custody of his own children after acknowledging they were better off without him. Reveal him as a ‘human trafficker’? And he was done.
But none of those consequences came close to what would happen to Stuart’s fourteen charges. They’d be taken into custody, separated, and caged like animals. Eventually all would likely be returned to their native countries. They’d be wards of the states they were originally fleeing from.
The punishment did not fit the crime.
All they needed, all Stuart was trying to give them, was a chance here, in the country he grew up believing was an endless well-spring of opportunity. You worked hard, you played fair, and you were rewarded.
His children abided by those rules. He had taught them. Stuart might not have been the most empathetic or nurturing of caregivers, but he knew how to make them citizens and survivors.
If only they were given that chance America was supposed to give everyone, they’d thrive.
Instead they spent their days living in fear. Every act, every decision, had to be scrutinized to ensure it would not draw attention to them. For the most part, the children performed their roles admirably. If anyone was shirking their duty it was keeping Camp Slane safe, it was Stuart himself for resuming his wrestling career. Circe had told him as much, and supported his decision to return anyway.
Circe Cicero was too good for him.
He stood in his kitchen, in his ridiculous “Wlibur Wilder” disguise, feeling a mixture of fear and embarrassment of being found out, of being the one responsible for the police poking around; of being the reason agents from Social Services were asking questions to the three children that were officially recognized by the state. False IDs and adoption papers, obtained at great cost, made them ‘legitimate’ in the eyes of the law.
Stuart was getting more than a little sick of the Law. And the rules. And the pompous, self-important authority figures that used them to hold people, his people, down.
He was tired of the excuses that these men and women were just doing their jobs; that the law was there to protect the weak and marginalized. It was not. It existed to maintain the status quo, and anyone willing to appraise the world as it currently was realized the status quo was unsustainable.
If they got out of this, Stuart decided, if the authorities left satisfied with the dog and pony show he and his children performed for them, they could no longer expect to live within the suffocating confines of the status quo in any capacity.
In the ‘real world’, that meant finding a safer location for Camp Slane, and a better way to meet its charges’ needs (both man and swine).
In the ‘unreal world’, that meant it was time for Stuart Slane to make a statement, and how fortunate for him he was being given the perfect venue to do so: a Battle Royal for the United States Championship at Monday Night Clash’s one hundredth episode.
All he would have to do was win.
Stuart Slane would win, because he was fighting for stakes far greater than any of his opponents.
Stuart Slane was fighting to remind institutions that they exist and possess power only because the people allow them to. If they do not meet their obligations they are to be challenged, and to make changes.
Action Wrestling was not meeting its obligations to Stuart.
His vow to destroy their precious United States Championship was the challenge.
And the change would come when he replaced it with a belt in line with his vision.
A title that honored His People: as small in number they may be.