Fatal Four Way Roulette

January 25, 2012
Bowels of the CajunDome 
 

Scene opens up in a dusty basement looking like room with a singular dim light beaming down on a hooded and bound person. The hooded person is wearing dirty, torn clothes, possibly from being in a recent fight. A few muffled sounds come from the hooded person, but obvious screams for help are not heard. A booming voice begins to speak from behind the hooded person.

??: What you have here is a person who doesn’t deserve to live, a man who has given up on his life; a man whose life will be shorter than the sum of some aborted fetuses. However, his life story, the cause of his demise is of no concern to you for he is just a player in a larger game. What you should be concerned about is me.

The man behind the voice walks forward and most of his features is captured by the dim light. The dim light reveals the person to be Lance Invictus!

Lance: Now, normally you’d see my faithful sidekick Ian with me, however, he felt that playing games with this young man was going too far. So, instead he decided to go laugh at Katrina Victims. Those poor souls didn’t know how to swim, tsk tsk. 

Lance walks to the side of the person, still slightly visible in the dim, flickering light.

Lance: Now, to switch topics. This week, I’ve been ever so lucky to advance to a Fatal Four Way match against Darkness, Gunnar Granderson and Max Siegel to determine who will fight against Blaine Evans and an undetermined person to determine who will be the new #1 contender for the IWA Championship Belt. Let me say, being the only other rookie left in the Invitational is a great honor and one that no one can take away from me, but I’m not happy with stopping here, not by a long shot. 

Lance smiles wryly then moves back to his previous position as the camera angle changes with him.

Lance: My apologies for digressing. I know what you’re thinking; ‘What does the hooded man have to do with playing a game and the fatal four way?’ I’m glad you didn’t ask, but I knew what you were thinking. I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Lance takes off the hood from the man sitting to his right to reveal what appears to be a homeless drunk. The drunk’s hair is a mess; his unsettled face is caked with blood and dirt.

Lance: This is a homeless person who has nothing to live for and has graciously volunteered for this after a few games of Edward Fourtyhands. 

Drunk: |BLEEP| your Step-Uncle duck!

Lance looks down on the drunk and slaps him.

Lance: Oh, hobo won’t you learn when you’ve been bested? 

Lance transitions back to the subject at hand.

Lance: Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted; this game we’re going to play is very similar to the Fatal Four Way. Oh, what game you ask? I was afraid you’d never ask me!

Lance pulls a single action Colt 45 from behind his back with his right hand.
Lance: We are going to play a game the world likes to call Russian Roulette. You see, Russian Roulette is similar to a game me and a few of my closest associates are going to be playing on the 27th. See, when you add a third or fourth or more competitors to a wrestling match you’re increasing the odds of a random person winning the event, regardless of their skill level kind of like Russian Roulette. Where this differentiates from Russian Roulette is that wrestlers with a higher skill level still retain the highest percentage of victory, it still isn’t a lock they will win like in a singles competition mind you. Regardless of the minor difference, this is always a fun game to play assuming you’re the winner or loser, dependent on which side of the table you sit. So let’s start with the first round!

Lance pulls the hammer back on the single action revolver.

Lance: There are 5 bullets loaded in this gun and one empty chamber. When competing in this Fatal Four Way, if you match up with someone you can dominate, that’s essentially getting the empty chamber in Russian Roulette, while if you don’t match up well with the other person, that’s more than self explanatory. Going into the match I can only speculate which competitor I can match up with well. Yes, my experience in professional wrestling can tell me the types of personnel I will match up well with, but that’s not a guarantee until I step in the ring and find out for myself. Now, there is only one man in this Fatal Four Way whom I believe has the talent that could potentially beat me and that is…

Lance opens the cylinder showing the 5 loaded bullets and one empty chamber. He pauses for a second and spins the cylinder fast enough for a moment before slamming it shut and point’s it at the hobo’s head. The hobo becomes slightly more agitated as the gun is placed against his temple. Lance pulls the trigger and a hollow CLICK echoes throughout the basement. The hobo lets out a sigh of relief.

Lance: …Darkness. You are a man who claims that I do not truly deserve to continue on within this tournament, but hell, what do you know? You’ve been one of the men that Max Siegel has referenced when he said the WWX has allowed a many man tarnish the reputation and distinction of WWX. After last week’s Ravage, I don’t know if there is a man more deserving to advance in this tournament other than me. I walked out of the Main Event of Ravage after besting the IWA World Champion and the Dark Druid. For that, I DESERVE respect. Will you give me said respect? Unlikely. You heavily believe that I am cahoots with James Ranger and if that’s not the case, I bet you think I am in cahoots with someone else. Here’s a little secret, I am in cahoots with no one. My talent with a small amount of luck a few weeks ago has gotten me to this point. Know this; no one person has beaten me twice. Anyone who has gotten the upper hand on me the very first time I’ve avenged my loss the second time around. You’ve become a cancer to the WWX in your year here and I’m taking it upon myself to excise you to relieve the pressure from those below you and Lipton’s ass. Enjoy watching me on Aftershock, |BLEEP|.

Lance opens the cylinder again and spins it and slams it back into the revolver. He puts the revolver up to his head and unflinchingly pulls the trigger to another hollow CLICK. 

Lance: I have no fear going into this. Some of the biggest names are no longer in it, especially my match. However, a man of smaller stature is still left. A man who has recently lost gold in Gunnar Granderson. Gunnar, let me be the first to console you on your loss of the International Title. I realize you weren’t talented enough to keep it long term, but you know how some people prefer to see the pretty faces on the lesser titles at times. I’ve noticed that you have a fear that your size is a disadvantage in this match. You’re completely right to think that you’re at a distinct advantage. Hell, to make this even come Fury, I’ll let you concentrate on trying to pin Max Siegel and not me. 

Lance waives around his gun to the unhappiness of the hobo.

Lance: Also, Gunnar, you seem to be sitting on your ass and not getting out and preparing for this match. Yes, watching film is a great resource, but when you get to this point in the tournament, people are likely to change up what they do. However, I do feel as if only watching film will be detrimental to your chances in this match. Let me get this straight, you choose to live in Bellmawr at this time, closer to your training gym where you can prepare for the match, but because it’s raining, you can’t go running. So what you’re saying is that you can’t go running inside your gym? Either it’s a pretty bad gym, which explains for your lack of a championship around your waist or you’re flat out lazy right now. Then again, I don’t blame you for not going out on a bad day in Camden County. I wouldn’t touch that county, or your fiancé, with a ten foot pool. Just realize this, the longer you sit on your ass and do nothing, the more the others around you will evolve and advance farther than you. 

The now familiar sound of the cylinder opening is heard followed by the spinning and slamming of it shut rings out through the empty basement. The hobo has begun to sweat profusely as Lance points the gun at the hobo’s temple again. Another hollow click indicates that the hobo is allowed to live for at least a few more uncomfortable minutes.

Lance: So far so good, wouldn’t you say?

A sadistic smile appears on Lance’s face as he continues.

Lance: Now we have the oh-so poetic Max Siegel who appears like a ghost out of thin air. Seriously Max, where the hell have you been? If there ever was a person that Darkness should argue that has received preferential treatment, it should be you! Come on, what have you had, one maybe two matches? I don’t see how your little work in this tournament allows you to be thrust into the late stages of it. If I was Ranger, I’d open up a segment on Ravage and have you do a weekly show from the Walk of Fame every week, because outside of apparently not wrestling, the only thing you’re good at is romanticizing about Hollywood. Give me a break, seriously.

Lance quickly draws the Colt 45 again and goes through the motion of spinning the cylinder and then points it at the hobo’s head. This surprises the hobo as it was supposed to be pointed at Lance’s head. 

Lance: Sometimes there are curveballs in these Fatal Four Ways. 

Lance pulls the trigger and BOOM! The gun fires and blows the hobo’s brains out the opposite side of his head and into the darkness that surrounds the pair. 

Lance: If you’re not prepared for curveballs, things like that happen. Also, there seems to be something that my competitors aren’t picking up on. There is a wild card in the name of Blaine Evans. Do they not notice that he is the special referee? If there was ever a time for a special referee to NOT be impartial, it’s during the match he is officiating. Straight up, he can pick the weakest member of the group, *COUGH*SIEGEL*COUGH* and favor his officiating in his direction so he advances. If no one else noticed this possibility, you DESERVE not to advance and you DESERVE not having a title around your waist. Blaine, listen to me, if you at all don’t call this down the middle, so help me god; I will crush you and any hope you in having a fruitful career here in WWX.

Lance pauses.

Lance: One last thing to all my competitors; do realize that you have no shot in this Fatal Four Way because I am just flat out better than all of you!

Fade to black.