HH 2010: Doug vs Ase (SH Title Hell On Earth)

[Ben Jacobs]

Post RPs Below.

RP LIMIT:
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10 pt. rp bonus for your 1st rp that is posted before 4pm (board time) on Tuesday, March 30th and scores 50 or higher.

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Saturday, April 3rd @ 11:59pm (board time)

MATCH & SEGMENT DEADLINE:

[/u]
Monday, April 5th @ 10am (board time)[/center]

[Alexander Rose]

Begin transmission...

*crackle crackle*The video of *crackle* Doug Gavelon standing over a beaten Ase *crackle* with the Southern *crackle* Heritage title after the Old School Cage Match *crackle* plays, breaking to static randomly and *crackle* irradically, it fades to snow.

*crackle* The video of Gavelon retaining the *crackle* Southern Heritage title *crackle crackle* in the Iron Man match breaks through the snow. A defeated *crackle* look is on Ase's face as he favors his ribs against the guardrail. The video breaks away to snow violently.

*crackle crackle* The video of Vash violently *crackle* and dominately pinning Ase in *crackle* the middle of the ring is shown, also broken up by static. It is thrown into snow, then the screen cuts to black.

...

Slowly, as if watching a Polaroid develop, an image slowly comes into focus. As the black fades away, it is replaced by bright white, and when that begins to dissipate, we see an image of the "Hell on Earth" cell match. The image comes fully into focus, then appears to be continuing the focus harder, and the image begins to shake violently, and and then it- *crackle*


Begin scene: Monday, March 29th, 1:45AM EST. Atlantic City, NJ.

Rain pours down in buckets in the darkness outside Ase's Atlantic City home. Ase is seated outside on the second floor balcony, flood lights illuminating the balcony. Wearing a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans, Ase stares out into the darkness that on a clear night would produce a beautiful view of the water and the city and casinos beyond it. Instead, the view is just blackness. Ase takes a long drink out of a bottle of Irish whiskey labeled The Knot. He slowly cracks his neck to the side, producing a series of pops. A half-smoked cigarette lays in the glass ashtray beside his chair. Without acknowledging the camera, Ase begins to speak.

Ase: In six days time, one of two things will come to pass. Either Ase will once again be wearing the Southern Heritate strap, or Doug Gavelon will have finally pinned me in the middle of ring, and will send me to wrestling Valhalla, where the greatest warriors go after their time has passed. The RCW fans are all up in arms about this. That this will change the landscape of the RCW forever. That it's quite possible that RCW would not be the same without Ase. For me, nothing will change. Exactly one week from now, I will be sitting on this balcony, with a bottle of this here fine Irish whiskey, and smoking my cigarette, looking out onto my birthplace. The only variable is whether I will be doing this with the title on my lap on not. Gavelon thinks he will deal me the final deathblow if he ends my career at 30. A fact I'd like him to continue believing. Because quite simply, I've lived without being in the ring before, and I can do it again. Doug, as we have all plainly seen, cannot live without that belt. It's become such an obsession to him, that he allowed his poor little girlfriend to become on innocent bystander in our war.

Ase cracks a smirk, as if remembering something funny. After a long drag of his cigarette, and another splash of whiskey, Ase let's everybody in on the joke.

Ase: Doug, now that you are clearheaded, and not boiling over in rage, do you not see that I played you just like a fiddle? Did you think I didn't know every single thing there is to know about you? Like how you always leave your locker room door cracked slightly, and your pregnant girlfriend listens from inside when she's in the arena to your promos? Did you think that mace shot was for you? That Ase made a tragic mistake, and your girlfriend and you baby paid the price? You're wrong, Doug. YOU made the mistake, and they paid the price. And now you will pay the price. The contract allowed for two stipulations, one for each of us. You could have named anything you wanted, being champion, and I of course had the disadvantage of the second stipulation. So, I played your emotions against you. And I in the end got to choose the grounds of our match. And I chose MY world. A match that I had some tinkering in developing. A match that I've warped and twisted into my own match, one sadly RCW will have yet to see. And most importantly, Gavelon, a match I have NEVER lost. A cell match is custom-made for a man like me. And for all your talk and bravado, you just don't have that mean streak in you anymore to hold your own in my playground.

Ase slow stands up, still not looking toward the camera, and rests his arms against the ivory colored railing of the balcony. Ase lights another cigarette and exhales a large cloud of smoke out into the rain, and watches as raindrops cut through it.

Ase:Look around you, Doug. Your whole Army has fallen to pieces. You have a defector who is helping a sworn enemy tear your group apart. They are all riddled with injuries. And now, you're going to be cut off from them, locked inside enemy territory with a man you have yet to truly vanquish. Not all defeats are total, Doug. And you have yet to win a total victory over me. On Sunday, we get to see exactly what you have against me. Not against me or Phil, not against me or Hollywood. But, against Ase, and Ase alone. Locked away from all allies. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And what is the quickest way to destory an amry, Doug? You weed out and assassinate the leaders. It's been done for centuries. I have Creed to thank for taking out Sipes for me. Leaving only you. And once I emphatically defeat you, all the fans, and all your allies will see your weakness, and see you are not a fit leader. And I will have for the most part taken everything from you in one fell swoop. Because all your greatness and the gifts you have right now stem solely from your confidence in yourself. When I shatter that confidence, you'll see things falling away all around you. Your confidence in your ability to take care of your family is what keeps Tiffany around. Watch as you slowly grow apart. Your confidence in being a leader is what keeps your Army with you. Watch as they begins to realize they don't need you to be in command of them, and that they can make their own decisions. And your belt is solely tied to your confidence that you can defeat me. That will be the instant change, Doug. I will shatter your confidence in yourself and take you belt at the same time.

Ase cracks another smirk, almost imagining the moment already.

Ase: And, if I fail... If I fail, I return here, to this home, and I relax. No big ceremony, no pomp and circumstance. If you defeat me at Hog Heaven, on RCW's biggest stage, with all the world watching, then I will fade out of RCW like a puff of smoke in a windstorm. I can live with it. The question is, Doug, now that you have had a chance to let the anger subside, can you live with what you will lose? You will deny all I say, but the seeds of doubt are already there, Doug. You know everything I have said is in the realm of possibility. Can you handle the idea of losing everything you know and love over a match? Or were you outsmarted on the grandest of scales? In a time when everybody believes my confidence should be the one of shaky ground, I know more than ever I can defeat you, and I know you can't pin me, Doug, and no man has ever made me tap out. So as you can clearly see, I have the confidence I need in this match, and I have the confidence that should I lose, my career may be over, but my life will continue.

The sliding glass door is heard from behind Ase. Tarja steps out from the house in a long purple bathrobe.

Tarja: It's late, darling. Why not come inside out of this horrible weather?

Ase turns, and leans against the balcony, facing his wife.

Ase: This match is important, dear. You know I can never just sleep away the week before an important match.

Tarja approaches Ase, who opens his arms and embraces Tarja

Tarja: I wasn't particularly speaking of sleeping, my darling. And I do believe you did tell me you weren't going to become overly obsessed with this match, because you won either way.

Ase: Nothing would be better than staying here spending all the time in the world with you, but I also didn't set all this up just to lay down for Doug either. I'm not just going to kill my career without giving the hardest fight ever seen.

Tarja: Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less. But, instead of sitting out here in the cold and rain, why not come inside and focus on the match tomorrow.

Ase: I've got a lot of things running through my-

Tarja grabs Ase by the back of the head, and kisses him deeply and passionately. Eventually they break the kiss, and Tarja smirks up at Ase.

Tarja: Remember, I know more than a few ways to clear your mind.

Ase: One of the benefits of being married for so long.

Ase lifts Tarja up into his arms, and walks back into his house.

::FADE TO BLACK::

[Doug Gavelon]

3/24/10
Fayetteville, Arkansas
******************

[Backstage at the Hog Heaven Hype Show, an EMT is checking on the still-dazed Tiffany; sitting on a folding chair; dealing with the effects of a mace attack by Ase. Suddenly, the door bursts open and Doug Gavelon comes storming in. He kneels down next to Tiffany and puts his hands on either side of her face.]

DG: Are you okay? Do you think you have a concussion or anything?

[Tiffany just smiles at him.]

Tiffany: I’m fine, Doug. All I got was a bad bump on the head.

[Doug looks down at Tiffany’s swollen belly; her left hand rolling over it. Sensing Doug’s thoughts the female EMT puts his fears to rest.]

EMT: I just checked and the baby’s perfectly fine. He even gave a little kick just to drive home the point.

[Doug chuckles before looking up at Tiffany.]

DG: You see: I told you it’s a boy.

[Tiffany just shakes her head as she looks down at her stomach.]

Tiffany: We’ll have to see about that in a month or so.

[Doug takes a deep breath as a serious look returns to his face.]

DG: So are you sure you’re okay?

Tiffany: I’m fine! You should start worrying about Ase. I saw your confrontation with him and Hell on Earth won’t be easy.

DG: Preparing.

[Tiffany looks at Doug in a confused state.]

Tiffany: I’m sorry?

DG: You said I should start worrying about Ase; I’ll prepare for him; I’ll study him but I’ll never worry about him.

[Tiffany’s smile shines brightly again.]

Tiffany: I’m glad to hear that. Now go get to work! I’ll be along in a little while.

[Doug nods his head forward before standing up and walking to the door. He turns back and looks at Tiffany.]

DG: Are you sure you’re fine?

Tiffany: I’m perfect, honey, now go start training.

[Doug smiles and nods his head; closing the door behind him as he leaves.]

~With less than a week to go until Doug’s most dangerous title defense, many in the media are starting to wonder if Doug can handle the pressure that comes with being champion. He has a baby on the way; he has two comrades permanently injured with a third competing in a very dangerous match at Hog Heaven; he has a madman waiting for him inside a demonic cell. Things seem to be at their worst for the Burning Hammer. However, as Doug prepares for his match and Wacko Carl for his, little can disrupt the pleasant mood in which Doug finds himself.~

3/30/10
Memphis, Tennessee
*****************

[At the local YMCA, Doug and his last remaining 7DA member Wacko Carl tone their bodies and minds in the weight room. Doug, calm but extremely focused, bench presses the weight over him with relative ease. Meanwhile, on the squat machine, Carl continually yells out in furious anger as he does rep after rep. As Doug finishes his set, he looks over and sees Carl having some difficulty lifting the bar up for a final time. Doug leaps up from the bench, rushes over to him and helps Carl set the bar back on its rest holds. Despite the exhaustion, Carl yells out again before turning around and punching the wall as hard as he can; screaming again as pain shoots through the same hand.]

DG: Great, I think you just broke your hand. What other handicaps are you planning for yourself? Are you going to pull a Gus Frerotte and jam your neck doing the same thing?

[Carl, still shaking his hand in a vigorous motion, bores a hole through Doug.]

WC: Oh, shut up, Doug! I’d break every bone in my body if it meant putting that fat, drunken b*st*rd six feet under. He wanted to prove a point? Well, I’ll make a point to kick his a** all over that g****n building! I’m going to get him, that wh*re and that pipsqueak son of a b*tch back for what happened to Beavis.

[Doug goes to move in closer towards Carl. Carl gets defensive but Doug puts his hands up as if to say “just calm down, man” before motioning towards the hand. Carl puts his injured hand out as Doug inspects it. He runs his fingers over every portion of it; finding where the trigger points are that bring pain to Carl’s face. When Carl barely grimaces, Doug nods his head in an almost relieved action.]

DG: It isn’t broken but it’ll be sore as hell for awhile.

WC: We both know that bumps and bruises in this sport are more than normal: they’re expected.

[Doug nods again as he releases Carl’s hand; allowing the former tag champion to massage it. Doug puts his right arm on Carl’s shoulder.]

DG: Listen, I know how important this match is but you have to let this whole ordeal with Beavis go. That knee was bound to go out sooner than later. You just can’t tear an ACL and expect two Cortisone shots a day to fix it up.

[Carl just lowers his head.]

WC: But you don’t understand: I was there, Doug. HJ blindsided me and forced me to watch while that…animal…just destroyed what was left of Beavis’s knee. I mean, when you see your partner, your best friend, go through so terrible of suffering that it puts him out of the profession that he loves and you know that all you could do was sit and watch…

[Carl puts his good hand to his face as the emotions start to flood through him. Doug continues to comfort him by patting him on the back. Finally, Carl wipes at his eyes and looks back up at Doug.]

WC: I mean, it just kills you inside. Hell, you know what I mean: you just went through the same thing with Tiffany.

DG: Yeah but Tiff only had a slight lump on her head the next day and nothing more. Did I get angry about it? Of course I did; anyone would. But after I went to the back and checked on her, I realized that my anger was being overshadowed by something else…joy.

[Carl looks at Doug with a look of surprise as Doug lets out an equally surprised chuckle.]

DG: I was overjoyed to know that I will have Ase trapped in a cell with me at the pay-per-view. Not only do I get to send him packing back to Jersey but I get to do so in his own environment; his own match; his home.

[Carl just looks away and can’t help but laugh.]

WC: Man, I wish I had your kind of confidence.

DG: It isn’t just confidence; it’s the determination that I won’t ever let that lunatic end up as champion again.

WC: He does have a point though: you haven’t gotten a fall on him yet.

DG: Yes, that’s very true. But the last I checked, he doesn’t have a fall on me either.

WC: Hmmm, good point. What about this attitude he has going on now? Do you think he’s really as reserved as he says he is?

DG: Are you asking if I think he doesn’t care about winning the belt again?

[Carl nods his head.]

DG: If he really didn’t care one way or another, if he wasn’t as concerned with being the champion as I am, it would explain why he put his career on the line. However, I think I know him better than that…even if he won’t admit it. He wants me to believe that I’m the only one who cares about the Southern Heritage Title in this match; that it really isn’t important; a useless trinket in my arsenal. But the truth is that being the champion consumes him. He knew what it was like to be champion…and just as quickly had that joy taken away. He’s been fighting back to this moment for nearly two…years. If he doesn’t want the belt, the glory of being champion and the knowledge that he can beat me then he should’ve never came back from his sabbatical; saved everyone a lot of trouble putting time and energy into him.

[As Doug finishes his thought, a knock comes at the door. Doug walks over and opens up; discovering a camera crew waiting for him. He nods to them and puts a finger up to indicate that he’ll be just a minute more. He turns back for a moment to look at Carl.]

DG: The camera crew’s here; I’ll be back soon enough. Just keep working out the kinks, man.

WC: Yeah, I’ll do just that.

[Doug closes the door behind him and looks to the crew.]

DG: Thanks for coming.

Camera man: Hey, no problem, champ. So where do you want to do this?

DG: Let’s go into the locker room; leave Carl alone for a moment.

Camera man: Alright, that’ll work.

[Doug and the camera crew make their way into the locker room. Doug moves over next to one of the walls as the crew sets up. They finally finish and begin the countdown; the director reaches zero; the record light flashes red; Doug begins his title defense. Despite the opponent being Ase, Doug still has a slight smirk on his face.]

DG: Well, folks, it’s quite apparent that the 7 Day Army isn’t what it used to be. We have Nate Sipes, my beloved cousin, laid up in a hospital bed with a halo around his head; we have Extreme Beavis going through surgery after surgery to repair an already destroyed knee; Tiffany is out of action until she brings forth my next generation into this world; Carl is beside himself with grief. Yet, despite it all, I’ve never felt better; more focused; more determined in my life.

[Doug crosses his arms as he continues.]

DG: Ase, I’m sure you’re still reveling in the fact that you got to me; that you managed to make me lose me cool. Obviously, it doesn’t happen often so allow me to give you a congratulatory thumbs up.

[Doug puts both arms out and raises both of his thumbs.]

[After a few moments, Doug lowers his arms; putting his hands against his sides.]

DG: Sure, I got angry…but then I got even. If you had the gall to attempt a sneak attack on me then I would return the gesture. The only difference is, I took a piece out of you; not the other way around. I did to you, even for so brief a moment, what you had so joyously done to others for so long during your career. In a way, I gave you a taste of what’s to come at Hog Heaven: me beating you at your own game.

[Doug’s smile grows wider as he flicks his head back; moving the loose strains of hair out of his face.]

DG: You know, I love how everyone I run into says that “this all came together thanks to my master plan.” Phil said it when he took off his B*st*rdo mask; Hollywood believed as much when the Iron Man Match came about; now, you want to say that all of this went according to plan. So, Ase, you threw your mace directly at me but somehow meant it for Tiffany on the other side of a door. Then, you came out and allowed me to kick your a** and show that you’re not as indestructible as you claim to be. Finally, you give me an extra, steel weapon for our rematch and this is supposed to somehow scare me? Ase, I couldn’t think of anything better than slamming you all day long, head-first, against that cell and put you through Hell on Earth. Like I said already, I have no problem beating you at your own game and I will do so come Hog Heaven. Hell, I’ve been hoping to get you back inside a cage ever since I won the belt just so I could prove who would win inside the twisted steel when the name of the game is “pinfall or submission” and not a climbing contest.

[Doug runs his right hand over his goatee; contemplating the thoughts expressed by Ase during his recent promo. After doing so, he again lowers his hand and looking back into the camera.]

DG: You know, I also think it’s quite interesting that you can live without being the champion again; that I’m supposedly the only one obsessed with holding the Southern Heritage Title. If that’s the case, Ase, then why compete in all those main events, as you love to point out? Why not just take a few weeks off and buck authority? Why put yourself through so much if your goal wasn’t to be back on top? No, Ase…you want this title…

[Doug reaches into a locker and pulls out a duffel bag; setting it on the bench next to him.]

DG: …you want this title as much as any and every other hungry challenger in the world wants it…

[Doug unzips the bag.]

DG: …desires it…

[He moves several objects out of the way within the bag.]

DG: …craves it…

[Finally, he pulls out the Southern Heritage Title and holds it up in front of the camera.]

DG: …needs to hold it as much as I do. You want this belt, Ase…

[Doug lowers the belt and slings it over his right shoulder.]

DG: …but you’ll never hold it again. You’ll fade away just like all athletes whose prime is long gone. What’s that you say? You just beat Mikey at the last pay-per-view? I know, Ase, but, with all due respect to Mikey as he’s one of the all-time greats, Mikey isn’t a top contender for the Southern Heritage Title and hasn’t been considered as such for a very long time. You think beating Creed Michaels impresses me? The only reason we’re talking about him is because of what happened to Nate. No, Creed is the pro wrestling equivalent of Clay Guida: Guida’s a talented mixed martial artist who can pull off impressive wins and get people talking. However, when he takes a step up in competition, he falls back to Earth as a vanquished foe. Nowadays, his fans have to make a case on why he should be on the main card when all signs point to a curtain jerker spot for such a person. And then there’s Carl. Once again, I don’t mean to take anything away from my 7DA cohort but he’s a tag team wrestler. You know it, I know it and all the fans know it. Carl can do well in singles competition but he’ll never reach the top.

[Having just spoken those words, Doug takes a deep breath before he continues.]

DG: Honestly, Ase, I don’t think you want this title…you NEED it. You need to take the title from me one more time so that your name doesn’t fade from everyone’s memory till the day you wind up in the Circle of Legends. Everyone made so big a deal when it was you, Jeffrey Hollywood and I in the Iron Man Match on how you two were former Southern Heritage Champions in your own rights but do you truly think your title reign is something to be proud of? To hold up as a tribute for the grandchildren someday? Let’s try to keep some truth in this, Ase: you were a placeholder champion; pure and simple. A bridge between the bureaucracy of Phil and the pomp and flare of Hollywood. The only “name” opponent you had between your win and loss of the belt was Seth Parker: hardly a world class athlete when all matters are concerned. And only one of your matches was for the title: your loss to Jeffrey Hollywood. Your reign was nothing of note and nothing that shall be hailed as any sort of breakthrough for years to come. So, Ase, before you go bragging about how much you don’t need it, look deep into your blackened soul and look upon the fact that you need this. If you don’t win, then you’ll become an irrelevant part of wrestling’s past. People will look on your career highlights like they do on the likes of Henry W. Miller, Bulk Logan and Havoc: mild wonderment but no true interest. That’s right, Ase: you need it…

[Doug smiles as he shakes his head.]

DG: …but you won’t get it. No, you’ll lose in Hell on Earth, you’ll go back to Jersey, get drunk every night on your alcohol and sleep with your wife until the time comes when she stops you and says “I’m sorry, dear, but you’re just not good enough for me anymore. Just like at Hog Heaven against Doug, you’ve failed me once again.”

[Doug looks off screen as another thought shoots through his mind. He soon looks back to the camera; a look of even greater determination in his eyes.]

DG: I’m also glad you finally admitted that you have had your shoulders put to the mat for a count of three. It hasn’t happened often and you’ve often neglected to admit it when cutting these promos about being a “perfect weapon” but it has happened. I believe Mikey did it in less than 60 seconds during one occasion and then again to Vash in the SCC. You’ve also lost by submission to Mikey but, of course, that was due to your…concerned…caring…wife…throwing in the towel. That’s why, I’m here to tell you that I don’t want to pin you, Ase. No, if this is to be your last night in RCW then I want to end any doubt to the result and have you actually quit. I want to have you experience so much pain that you’re forced to smack the mat with your hand as hard as you can, look to me and say “Doug, I give up. I can’t take anymore. You’ve beaten me.” Don’t get me wrong; if I drop you on your head with the Burning Hammer and your unconscious body is flat on the mat, I will take the win…but I won’t be satisfied. No, Ase, once we get into that cell, I want to show that as soon as we lock up, you’re being set up…for Slow Death.

[Doug readjusts the belt as he concludes the promo.]

DG: Ase, if this truly means nothing to you; if you have no real desire to be champion then you’ll soon get your wish. This title won’t be leaving my side any time soon and it will take much better a man than you to take it from me. Ase, at the end of Hog Heaven, you’ll have to bare witness to only one man standing victorious…the Burning Hammer…Doug Gavelon.

[The camera cuts and Doug shakes the hands of the crew before placing the belt back into the bag; putting it back into the locker; padlocking it before leaving. He returns to the weight room to find Carl waiting for him.]

WC: Everything all set?

DG: Absolutely.

WC: So, do you want to fill me in on this new submission move of yours?

DG: Later. Right now, we need to get some work in. We BOTH have a big match at the pay-per-view.

WC: We sure do…I wonder if HJ or Ase is ready for it?

DG: We’ll soon find out.

[As Carl moves back to the squat machine, Doug moves onto the leg press. Both men continue the preparations for the biggest show in RCW history...and a turning point in the lives for both of them.]

[Alexander Rose]

Begin Trasmission...

Begin Scene: Time, Date, Location logged: Wednsday, March 31st, 2010 8:15AM EST. The Law Offices of Carpathia, Goldberg, and Fauts- Somewhere outside Atlantic City, NJ.

We come into the scene with Ase, Tarja seated on one side of a large dark oak wood desk. On the other side is a man in a three piece suit, complete with a bright red power tie. Ase, dressed in a pair of black pants, a white button up shirt, and a dark blue dress jacket, is leaned back in his chair with a relaxed look on his face. Tarja, in a black sphagetti strap dress, is seated upright with her hands folded on the desk. The man on the other side leans forward, looking over paperwork. He sighs deeply and looks up at Ase with a concerned look on his face.

Nicolae Carpathia: I looked over everything, and it all looks in order. Are you sure you want to do this?

Ase: Cut the crap, Nicolae, you know I wouldn't be here if I weren't serious. Does everything work out or not?

Nicolae Carpathia: Well, with you current assets- stocks, merchandise royalties, and your other income, you'll be fine. Add in Tarja's income, and barring tragedy, you'll have nothing to worry about. I gotta say, you were pretty smart with your money.

Ase smirks at Carpathia.

Ase: Yeah, somebody taught me valuable lessons a couple years ago.

Carpathia nods back at Ase.

Nicolae Carpathia: If I may make a suggestion, though- I would try to sell the house in California. You never use it, and it's eating up a couple thousand in mortgage payments.

Ase looks confused.

Ase: Carpathia, that's the house Nicole got in the divorce. Your sister's living there, you know I can't sell it out from underneath her. Hell, you did your damnedest to make sure I couldn't. What's your angle?

Nicolae lifts his hands up in a "you got me" pose, cracking a wide smile.

Nicolae Carpathia: Again, you're too smart with your money for me to trick you. Nicole's getting remarried, Ice-

Ase: It's Ase now.

Nicolae Carpathia: Pwah! Don't give me that. I've known you as Ice Kold for near on a decade, you can change your gimmick and name all you want for the TV cameras, but I'm your lawyer, and I know you've never changed.

A brief silence sits between the three, before Tarja speaks up.

Tarja: So, you said Nic's getting remarried?

The smile returns to Carpathia's face.

Nicolae Carpathia: That's right, guys. Engaged to some big shot wrestling promoter from New York. They're getting married in about three months, and Nicole's gonna move to New York with him. So, keeping up the house for her won't be necessary any longer.

Ase sits back in his chair with a look of contemplation.

Ase: Nicole getting remarried. Honestly didn't think I'd see the day. After everything that happened between us, I didn't think she's find somebody else. It's good to see her finally moving on though. So she doesn't want to keep the house? I mean, she loved that house more than anything. Almost bankrupted me for that house.

Nicolae Carpathia: But it was YOUR house, Ice. Yours and hers. She wants to move on, and if she lives in that house, you'll still be there, constantly, whenever she's in that house. As your lawyer, I'm telling you to sell because financially it'll benefit you greatly. As your friend, I'm telling you to sell the house to give my sister a fresh start on a new life.

Ase rubs his hand over his nearly-shaven head.

Ase: A fresh start... That's not a bad idea, Nicolae. Set it up to sell both the California house and the Atlantic City house.

Both Nicolae and Tarja's head whip to Ase.

Nicolae Carpathia: WHAT?!

Tarja:WHAT?!

A wide smile cracks across Ase's face.

Ase: A fresh start. It's a brilliant idea. Do it, Carpathia. I'll be in touch.

End Scene.

...

Begin Scene: Friday, April 2nd, 2010 10am EST. Ase's home outside Atlantic City. Ase, dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt is in what looks to be a bedroom. Only, there's nothing left in the room except a couple of cardboard boxes taped shut. Ase stands in comtemplation looking over the room. A brief smile comes to his face as Tarja walks in from the hallway.

Tarja: It looks like the only things left are in here. I really can't believe you're letting this house go. It was your parents house. You grew up in this house.

Ase: Yeah, but Nicolae said something about a fresh start. Thats not too bad an idea, to be honest. We've still got your place in Helsinki, and I've been looking into moving closer to Philadelphia anyway. Me and K never see each other anymore. I'd like to see my nieces and newphew some more before they get too old and cool to hang out with their old boring uncle anymore.

Tarja: Darling, do you really think this is it for your career? I mean, you almost seem like your setting up your whole life for retirement, instead of preparing to be a champion.

Ase: I'm preparing to make things better in my life. Yeah, I can't say for certain that in two nights time Doug won't best me. It could happen. Right now, everybody in the world looks to me as the underdog. I'm not going to be completely caught off guard if come Monday morning, I've got no matches to look toward, no title defenses, no promos to cut. I've got to make sure the possibility that I'll have other things to do instead of wrestling are there. That's why I'm selling the house. We have no friends here in Jersey, Tarj. No family. It's just us, in our little hiding spot away from the cameras, away from the fans, and away from the world. Everybody in Helsinki knows who you are, but wrestling isn't that big in Finland, so I can hide out there. I've let things in my life slip away because of wrestling. My relationship w/ K and his kids. My family. You. Hell, Hollywood just took Heather out to dinner this week for a date. When's the last time we did anything together out in public that didn't involve this damned business?

Tarja walks up to Ase, and places a hand on his arm.

Tarja: You sound like you want to retire. Then why not just do it? Why set this whole thing up with Doug if all you really want is the peace and quiet?

A dark smirk comes across Ase's face.

Ase: You think I could just walk away? This is my life. Sometimes I hate it more than anything, but it's all I've known for 14 years. I forced myself into this corner because I've lost that passion for the ring I used to have. Yeah, me and Mikey stole the whole show at High Stakes, but it wasn't anything like the Three Rings of Pain match a couple years ago. I would have never lost two seperate matches to Gavelon for the title belt two years ago. I think Doug himself even said I didn't have the passion to be champion anymore. I'll either find it in Hell, or I'll give it up. Either way, I win though, I made damn sure of that.

Tarja smiles affectionatly up at Ase. Ase leans over and gives her a kiss on the forehead, and pulls her in close with an embrace. "I Came to Play" by Downstait plays from seemingly nowhere as Ase pulls out a cell phone. He looks at his wife and smirks.

Ase: This song would make a great entrance theme, don't you think?

Ase slides the phone open.

Ase: What's the news, Nicolae? ... You can be a son of a b*tch sometimes, you know that? Why didn't you just tell me that in the office? ... Yeah, yeah, I guess you still can get things by me every now and then. ... I already agreed to sell the houses, I don't care if you buy one of them or not. Write up the paperwork, let's get this done.

Ase slides the phone shut and places it in his pocket. Tarja give him an inquisitive look.

Ase: Carpathia wants to buy the California house. Probably his intention from the moment his sister told him she was getting married.

Tarja: He's got a practice here in Jersey, what on earth would he need a California house for?

Ase: Maybe everybody needs a fresh start. Who knows? Who cares? We sold both houses in less than a week in this economy. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

Ase quickly checks his watch.

Ase: Ahh, gotta get to that appointment. Let's go.

Ase grabs a box, stacks it onto another box, and walks out. Tarja grabs the remaining box and follows behind. The picture remains for several seconds on the now completely bare and empty bedroom.

End Scene.

Begin Scene: Friday, April 2nd, 2010 12:03pm EST. Undisclosed location somewhere in Somer's Point, NJ. Ase stands, now dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, and an RCW Perfect Weapon T-shirt, with his arms crossed against a white painted brick wall. The RCW camera crew opens the door, and Melvin Gates walks in.

Melvin Gates: I'm not so sure about this.

Ase: Just set up the equipment, and shut up until you're told otherwise.

Ase gives a menacing look toward Gates and the crew, who suddenly double-time setting up the interview equipment. Ase pushes himself off the wall with his shoulders and takes a seat next to Melvin, who looks increasingly nervous.

Melvin Gates: I'm... uh, ready when you are.

Ase: Let's do this.

The man the behind the camera counts down on his fingers from. He gets to zero and points to Melvin.

Melvin Gates: Welcome, RCW fans, I'm Melvin Gates, and I'm here with the number one contender for the RCW Southern Heritage Championship, RCW's own Perfect Weapon, Ase.

Ase, apparently at this time supposed to acknowledge the camera, remains silent, staring a hole through the Gates.

Melvin Gates: *clears throat audibly* Ahem. Yes, well, Ase, my first question has to be- you've never used the RCW interviewing crew before to make promos, why now, right before Hog Heaven?

Ase: I'm glad you asked that, Gates. The reason is really simple. Gavelon goes on and on and on with his twenty minute promos, while mine normally take ten to fifthteen tops. And it got me thinking- why? How does Gavelon be so long-winded? And it occured to me- when I cut promos, it's me, or me and Tarja. When Doug cuts promos, he has his whole Seven Day Army making cameos, Tiffany, then he finally cuts a promo, sometimes with a guy like you feeding him questions. I can be pretty long-winded as everybody knows, but even I can only talk to myself in front of camera for so long. Doug's got you to stretch out the minutes when it's not cameo after cameo of every person Doug's ever met giving their input on his match, so I figured I'd show Doug that anybody can sit there and talk forever with a professional question asker sitting next to them.

Melvin Gates: That's a very... interesting view on things, and maybe a good idea if you want your TV time and Doug's to be equal. My next question, Ase, is that there are rumors flying that you are preparing for a life after wrestling. Does this mean you aren't confident about taking the title from Doug inside Hell on Earth?

Ase outright laughs in Melvin's face.

Ase: You, the fans, and most importantly Doug Gavelon would LOVE if that were the case. But the answer is no, Gates. The old saying goes hope for the best, prepare for the worst. You wouldn't walk into AJ Supreme or Ben Jacobs' office and quit without another job lined up or some arrangements made, right?

Melvin Gates: Well, I would guess not-

Ase: Exactly. I did what I needed to do to make sure my life continues if somehow Doug defeats me. The chances are slim. Doug won't ever admit it, but I got him- hook, line, and sinker. He thought he'd compare me to Phil who always has a master plan. Not exactly, Doug, I never claimed to intentionally lose matches and that everything went according to plan. I knocked your little piece of a** on the floor and set you off. Yeah, I expect you to attack me. I expected it to be a little more face-to-face though. I didn't think you had the testicular fortitude to attack me from behind. So you got me there. And I anticipated you blowing your stipulation on something inconsequential, like No Holds Barred or something idiotic. Instead you're going to try and take my career. So you caught me off guard with that. But I still got what I wanted from the whole operation- I've got you in MY match, Doug. I don't know if you've ever been in a cell match, but as I've already stated, I'm an innovator of this match. I've been in five standard cell matches in my career, and three more of my variations of this match. Eight cell matches, Doug. Nobody has EVER been in more in the world. And I've NEVER lost. I solely can claim possession of this match.

Melvin Gates: Doug Gavelon seems focused completely on this match, while you've claimed he has other things intruding. He proceeded to claim the same about you.

Ase pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, exhaling deeply in the direction of Melvin, who coughs and waves his hand in front of him.

Melvin Gates: We normally don't allow smoking during interviews, Ase.

Ase: That's why you guys came to me in my location, not yours in the Boys and Girls Club. I can smoke here if I damn well please.

Ase blows smoke in Melvin's face again, causing him to cough more.

Ase: Alright, I won't do that again. But yeah, Gates, you're right. Doug tried to do the rebound technique. He basically took what I said, and reversed it and said it about me. Original, Doug. But, fact of the matter is- you're not focused, Doug. You've got a cousin in the hospital with a halo around his freaking head. A brilliant piece of work by Creed if I do say so myself. You've got a friend undergoing lots of surgery to repair what's left of his knee. Your other buddy, Wacko, is trying to break his own hand in "preparation" for his sever ass-whooping and hospital bed next to his buddy and your cousin. Your girl's about to bring your devil-spawn into this world. And again, all the while, in the back your mind, always there, is that voice telling you Ase is going to shatter your confidence, and it's all going to go away. Everything you've worked for will fall to pieces before you. And you think you're focused? Doug, we know each other better than that. The cage match- you were focused. The Iron Man Match- you were more than focused. But then, everything was on the fringes of your mind. Creed and Nate had just started their fued. You all had belts by the end of the Cage match. You're girl was pregnant, but not ready to pop yet. Now, Doug, it's all right there, in your face, everywhere you look. Your Army is obliterated. Your girlfriend's water is ready to break any minute. And you don't get the luxury of pinning Hollywood to escape me this time.

Melvin Gates: Another question on everybody's mind is one Doug put out there too- do you really not care about the title? Is this really just an elaborate way to retire?

Ase smirks darkly before inhaling on his cigarette again.

Ase: It's simple, Gates. I want that belt more than anything in the world. But, being faced with a possibility of never wrestling again, I've also stared down the belly the that beast, and I saw it's not the end of the world. It'll suck, certainly, never being able to compete again, but the good and the bad of the situation cancel each other out. I'm in a perfect state of calm about this, Melvin. If I win, I become Southern Heritage Champion once again. If I lose, I get more time with my family, my kids, my wife. I get time to persue other endevours. Hell, maybe I'll give Boyd a run for his money being a color commentator. The point is, while Doug had no positive is he loses this match, I've found the positive if I lose. So, unlike others facing retirement might be freaking out, overtraining, overthinking, overplanning, I'm confident in my abilities to defeat Doug. A couple hundred more reps on the weights, a couple sparring rounds, or sit-ups or push-ups aren't going to change the outcome of this match either way. The better wrestler will walk out of Hog Heaven with the strap, and the other won't. I turned this into a win-win situation for me. Doug can't claim that. So he can continue to make his baseless claims that I'm worried, that my whole life will fall apart losing this match, and continue to hide my claims about you being true by throwing them back at me. I've got you, Doug. If you just admit it, you'll have a lot less to worry about Sunday.

Melvin Gates: Doug went on to go down your list of losses in RCW. He claimed Mikey pinned you and made you submit-

Ase: Mikey did no such thing. We and Mikey have faced each other a total of four times. All three falls of the Three Rings of Pain match, and the Razorback Lockdown match. Mikey holds a single fall against me, wrapping my legs around the ringpost until my wife threw in the towel. Fact of the matter is- I'd STILL be wrapped around that post, never giving up, if my wife hadn't thought past the first fall. Mikey's never pinned me, ever. Vash did give me my first and my only pinfall loss in RCW, Doug. Keep your facts straight.

Melvin Gates: It's well known you have never tapped out in your career. Gavelon wants to end your career making you tap out.

Again Ase laughs out loud.

Ase: And people in Haiti and Chile don't want to live on fault lines. Not a whole lot can be done about that. Gavelon, I've faced men that were ten times the mat technicians you are, and they couldn't make me tap out. All of a sudden YOU want to make me tap out? You might as well aspire to be able fly, or lift buildings. You've got a better chance of flying a space shuttle with no training. I can break out any submission hold you can think of, Doug. I've mastered them all. You show me a submission, I can show you a way out of them. You show me something new, and I'll have it figured out in less than a minute. Doug, you've got a shot at this match if you stick to your game. You're in my world. You decide to play MY game in MY world, you're as good as finished. That's just some professional advice. I personally would LOVE to utterly embarass you in the submission realm. And I will if you try to play games with me, Doug. Like I said, stick to what you do. Don't try to be something that you are not. And you are NOT a submission wrestler.

Melvin Gates: I can't disagree with that, Ase. There aren't many people as well versed in submission tactics like you. But, again, you didn't really answer my question before, can you really let this all go without holding the Southern Heritage title again? Doug definately downplayed your career, saying not having the belt again will make you be viewed... "with mild wonderment but no true interest."

Ase cracks his neck to the side, and adjusts his position on the seat.

Ase: God, these chairs are uncomfortable. How do you guys do this all the time? Geez. But to answer your question, Melvin, what is one more title? I've held titles upon titles in my career. Again, I retired from AJPW undefeated Deathmatch champion. Nobody in the world can claim that but me. I defended the Deathmatch title in AJPW... the DEATHMATCH title, a record 38 times in a one year span. The guy with the second most title defenses- FOUR! This is of course going back 12 or 13 years. So Doug, mild wonderment? No true interest? Doug, I'm one of the hottest properties in the business today. I fend off promotors from all over on a weekly basis. Everybody has a true interest in me now. So, you keep living in this fantasy world that RCW is the be-all end-all of wrestling. It's the big thing today, but ten years ago, it wasn't even a thought. 5 years ago it was probably an inkling of AJs. 10 years ago I was tearing Mexico apart luchador by luchador. So, in the real world, Doug, I am the hottest thing of the 2000's. Guys like you, who strive to be the best for maybe five years, and maybe spend a year or two on top, are quickly dismissed and forgotten. I've been the top main eventer in the business since I started. And if you retire me in two days, I'll have been the main eventer from start to finish. I won't be that sixty year old who comes back out of retirement every year for a big show and wrestlers on the undercard. So, I'll go out in the main event, if I go out at all.

Melvin Gates: So, Ase, any final thoughts before you step into the ring with Doug in just two days?

Ase: Yes. Doug Gavelon, you may continue spouting off about some new submission hold, and how you'll never let go of the title, and that you have this determination. But the FACT of the matter is this- you're scared. You put on a big show in front of your girlfriend and your only remaining ally in the business, and in front of the cameras. But when you're alone, and you think nobody knows, you quake in your boots. Your confidence is gone, Doug. And it terrifies you. And you hide that terror for fear that it'll become reality. If you only acknowledge it when you are alone, you can convince yourself it's just nightmares. It's just nerves. But in two days time, Doug, you'll have to face your fears. And inside the Hell on Earth cell, you'll have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. A chained link cell will surround both of us, Doug, and all your nightmares will come to life.

Ase stands up and looks down into the camera.

Ase: But there's good news, Doug. After I beat you in the middle of the ring at Hog Heaven, next week is Southern Dynamite, and you'll get to start all over again. You'll get a fresh start. And trust me, Doug- win, lose, or draw, you WILL need a fresh start. Because I'm taking a piece of you on Sunday. You won't be walking out of Hog Heaven, I assure you of that. You may end my career, but I'm taking a piece of your soul with me on my way out. You, Doug Gavelon, will walk into that cell on Sunday. But you will walk out changed forever. See you in Hell, Doug.

Ase walks away, leaving the crew to clean up their equipment.

::FADE TO BLACK::

[Doug Gavelon]

~Not many can go through what RCW Southern Heritage Champion Doug Gavelon has gone through and retain their sanity. However, Doug has not only been able to keep the constant trials and tribulations of his friends and family at the back of his mind but has kept his focus set on his main two goals: retain his championship…and retire Ase. As the day draws near wherein Doug will be able to achieve these goals, it’s important that he gain precious rest in between his preparations. With the excitement of the possible outcome of the match, Doug finds that rest as a minor hindrance in an overall wonderful experience.~

4/2/10
Memphis, Tennessee
*****************

[While Doug has remained in tip top shape, the same cannot be said for the only other active 7 Day Army member. Doug is driving back to his hotel after visiting Carl in the local ER. But still, not even this latest attack on his friend can make Doug upset. If anything, it only brings more humor into his continually insanity-filled life. This crosses his mind as he makes his way down the highway.]

~This is really starting to get ridiculous. Nate’s neck’s broken; Beavis’s knee’s destroyed; Carl’s head’s all fouled up. I mean, it’s almost tragic if all of them happening together wasn’t so funny. “The mighty 7DA goes down to a string of injuries.” Thank G*d I only have to deal with Ase. Honestly, I don’t know or care if that’s sarcasm because I’m just ready to take this a**hole down a notch. Hell, a notch? I’ll take him all the way to the bottom of the spectrum on Sunday. If he tries to block out past wins even before our match, I wonder what he’ll have to do to block out this match. I mean, when you claim to be a “perfect weapon” and you not only lose a match but also lose your shot at a title, your career, in your own supposed home and you tap out on top of that, how do you go on living? Good thing I heard that he’s selling his homes in the U.S. because I don’t know what the laws are in Finland but I know that suicide attempts in this country can land you in jail. I guess he’s just covering all bases once the weight of this loss tears him down. He can talk all that crap he wants to about not caring but I can tell something’s different about him. He’s going through the motions; he’s saying what people expect him to say; he has no fire; no passion; no fury. I have all three in abundance and that spells his doom Sunday.~

[Doug pulls into the parking lot and just as suddenly, his phone rings. He looks down at his phone and the picture that appears reveals the source.]

[Doug pushes the button to hear his beloved on speaker.]

DG: Hey babe.

Tiffany: Hey honey. Where are you?

DG: I just finished for the day. I’m going back to my room right now.

Tiffany: You’d better be; I find out you’re chasing some non-impregnated skirt down there and Ase will be the least of your worries.

[Doug laughs as he puts the car in park; grabbing his duffel bag with his free hand and exiting the car. He continues his conversation as he enters the Holiday Inn.]

DG: You don’t have to worry about that; all of my workouts are happening in the gym.

Tiffany: Is that before or after you let Carl get beaten down?

[Doug rolls his eyes.]

DG: Hey, if the d*mn door’s locked, there’s nothing I can do. Besides, Carl’s doing fine and you know he’s going to beat that overweight false deity.

Tiffany: I sure hope so. So, seriously, how is training going?

DG: Awesome; it’s something I’ve been doing since junior high so I know exactly how to train for a match…no matter how psychotic the match may be.

Tiffany: None of that seems to matter to Ase. He seems to think you’re wasting your time.

DG: Yeah, that’s coming from a guy whose only training has been sticking a cigarette in his mouth or lifting a whiskey bottle up. Seriously, if he doesn’t sweat himself into a stroke at the pay-per-view, it’ll be anything short of a miracle.

[Doug reaches the elevator and presses the button for the top floor suites.]

Tiffany: So do you really think you can make him tap?

DG: …or die trying.

[The silence on the other line tells Doug that his joke wasn’t what Tiffany wanted to hear.]

DG: Look, I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe in it. Besides, if it doesn’t work, I always have my other finishers to fall back on. One way or another, I’m retiring that miserable pr*ck.

[The sigh from the other end seems to echo in Doug’s ear.]

Tiffany: I just wish I could be there with you, baby; I miss you.

DG: I miss you, too. Don’t worry: I’ll be home by Monday night, safe and sound, and wrap my arms around you so tight that the baby will have to kick just to get some air.

[Doug finally gets a laugh out of Tiffany; taking the worries out of her mind. The elevator reaches his floor and Doug walks through the hallway to his room.]

DG: Alright, I’m just going to chill out in my room, honey.

Tiffany: Okay, call me tomorrow then, sweetie.

DG: I will. Love you, Tiff.

Tiffany: I love you, too, Doug.

DG: Bye.

Tiffany: Bye.

[Doug puts his phone back into his pocket as he places his keycard into the slot and enters his room; closing the door behind him. He admires the features of his room as he realizes that he’s truly made it back.]

~It only took a World Title loss, two trips to the DL and a complete redemption in the eyes of all of my friends and family but I’ve finally made it back to the top. Thankfully, I haven’t had to break anyone in half to do it this time. Well…as of yet. The weekend’s still a long one.~

[Doug sets his bag on the floor before walking over to the couch and opening up his briefcase. He pulls out his laptop and camcorder. He sets the laptop on the coffee table and turns it on before setting up the camera on the TV. He then sits back on the couch and types something into the computer before turning his attention back to the camera.]

DG: There’s an old saying which reads “the truth shall set you free.” Truth is a very powerful entity. It can wipe away a person’s shame; it can show the difference between right and wrong; it can prove, once and for all, the real way of the world and debunk any claim to the contrary by a delinquent despot. Ase, I’m glad you denied your pinfall loss to Mikey. Obviously, I hoped that you would’ve had enough class to admit that once, just once against the most psychotic mute on God’s green earth, you got careless and your shoulders hit the mat.

[Doug shrugs his shoulders; expressing indifference as if to say “Oh well, so much for that.”]

DG: But still, it wasn’t shocking that you would talk only about the “major” encounters: the Three Rings of Pain and Razorback Lockdown. It’s funny how people, especially pompous, gothic windbags, love to omit their greatest failures; even when called out on it. Therefore, I’ve taken it upon myself to show such a failure to the entire world. Not possible, you say? Well, thankfully for the internet and a certain free video site, it’s not only possible but stone cold fact.

[Doug turns the laptop towards the camera so that the website’s logo can be seen.]

[Doug then reaches around and presses the link to a video named “SD 12: Mikey vs. Ase.” Before he hits play, he turns back to the camera for a moment.]

DG: I don’t think I have to explain that this video, although brief, is extremely violent. Of course, since all of you are familiar with a deranged ring general such as Ase, it’ll come as no shock.

[Doug clicks on the play button and the video begins. Mikey is shown being attacked from behind by Ase; Tarja holding off En Fuego with a lead pipe. The action continues as Doug speaks.]

DG: Sneak attack, huh, Ase? Once again, not exactly a shock but it is surprising that I managed to surprise you with my attack at the hype show. How quickly people can forget the actions of the past. I’m sure you’ll remember that during your Ice Kold days in World Pro, I was on top of the world as the most important champion at that time. In order to do that, I not only attacked but seriously injured the likes of Slayback, Havoc, Creed Londos, Henry W. Miller, and Lucca Altieri in order to get to that mountaintop. That’s why it meant so much to me to have won the Southern Heritage Title, THE most prestigious title in wrestling today, without having to leave a path of destruction in my wake; to have played by the rules and come out on top; to give the fans, my friends and family a champion they can be proud of. However, don’t believe for a moment that I’ve forgotten how to unleash the beast inside. Certainly, it’s been awhile but all that’s done is given me more time to control him…and made him even hungrier for blood. I’m sure you’ll soon find that out in Hell on Earth, Ase, when I turn your face into hamburger.

[Doug turns back to the computer and the screen now shows Tarja screaming at Ase who soon nails Killotus on Mikey on the floor.]

DG: There it is: the Killotus; the supposed be all, end all of finishers. All Ase has to do now is roll Mikey into the ring and get the pin, right? Ase should have this match all but finished. Granted, the bell hasn’t rung yet because Ase can never beat someone in a straight up setting but still, for all intents and purposes, this match is over.

[Finally, the result of the match is shown: Mikey hitting a small package on Ase for the 1-2-3.]

DG: It appears that I was right: the match was over…for Ase. He allowed himself to get distracted and no matter the condition of Mikey’s body or mind, that’s a mistake you can’t afford to the crafty mute.

[Doug smiles as he slowly closes the laptop. After doing so, he rests his arms on his lap and locks his fingers together.]

DG: So, Ase, what excuses do you have for that one? En Fuego’s massive girth too much for you to worry about Mikey? Tarja’s leash not snug enough around your neck? Frankly, it’s all nonsense and you know that; deep down; beneath the idiotic ideals of grandeur. Quite frankly, all I’ve heard from you during our private, little war the past year has been excuse after excuse. [in a whiny, almost neurotic, voice] “Oh, my foot got caught! My mace didn’t land right! I was out of the ring! You guys kept double teaming me! I was too tired! My shoelace was untied!”

[Doug rolls his eyes and a look of annoyance appears on his face as he moves back to his regular speaking voice.]

DG: It’s all a bunch of garbage, Ase. You had a chance to climb out of the Old School Cage but you found the need to try one last pot shot against me. Doubting my resolve was your first mistake. Then, you, Hollywood and I fought for an entire hour where I was the one who got the only fall in that classic encounter. Of course, going into that match, you bragged yourself up and how no one could match your conditioning. However, at the end of the day, I was standing victorious in the ring and you were lying face down on the floor; exhausted; defeated; weak; with thunderous applause for the result by the fans on that night. I mean, I find it truly amusing that you always talk about how I’ve never “truly” beaten you. But let me ask you something: when was the last time you got a win over me? When was the last time you forced my shoulders to the mat? When did you ever make me tap? The truth is that, over five years and two organizations, you’ve NEVER beaten me, Ase. Period. I’ve been just one step ahead of you at each and every turn. When you were starting up in World Pro, I was already on top. When I came here with you as the established star, suddenly all the talk amongst the fans was the “triumphant return of Doug Gavelon.” When you were at the top of the heap, people were admiring my run as Natural Champion. When you were returning, looking for Phil and Hollywood’s blood, people were mesmerized by my return and dissection of the Family of Extreme…especially Havoc. Now, in our last encounter at Hog Heaven, the people will talk about how I finally defanged the beast known as Ase and sent him on his way back to Finland. Once again, the fans will put me in the spotlight because I represent all that is noble and good in an otherwise dark and dingy organization; filled with narcissists, rogues and pathological liars such as yourself, Ase. By beating you at Hog Heaven, I will reinforce the values for which I stand and for which every “normal” human being also stands.

[Doug flicks his hair back as he smiles again.]

DG: I’ve also heard through the grapevine that your selling your American properties and are set on living in Helsinki. Leaving California is one thing as they’re one earthquake away from being the next Lost City of Atlantis. But leaving New Jersey which has been your notorious place of residence for so long is a very interesting matter. I mean, I’m sure you expected many people to shed a tear when you leave that place but the truth is that every mafia boss and Guido in the entire state will be happy to see a sad sack like you go. Jersey’s a terrible place to visit, let alone live, and the only time they find even an inkling of happiness is when they accomplish something on the sporting field. The Devils have been contenders, if not champions, for the past twenty years now; the transported New York Giants have at least won a championship as of late; the Jets can at least try to keep pace with the evolving sports world. But Ase, the truth is that you’re like the New Jersey Nets basketball team. Sure, you’ve risen to several prominent moments but you’ve been unable to evolve like the teams around you and have suffered because of that. You’ve seen so much failure this past year that it only became natural for you to put up or shut up; win the big one or leave forever. Still, you will find the greatest of disappointments in Hell on Earth and like the Nets, you’ll move onto an even greater place of unimportance. The Nets can at least say that they’ll be in a portion of New York; you can say that you live in a country many people don’t even realize still exists.

[Doug chuckles as he remembers something that he discovered in his research on Ase for this match.]

DG: In fact, people won’t even have to call you Ase anymore. I mean, why would they have to or want to? You won’t be a perfect weapon or even a pro wrestler anymore once Sunday rolls around. You’ll be back to being plain, old Timothy McGehean. You’ll be able to mix in with anyone on the sidewalk as your former glory continues to slide further and further away. Only you will remember you, Timothy. Just like these constant claims of being Deathmatch champion. Is that supposed to impress anyone? That you’ve beaten a bunch of beer-bellied, half brain cell carrying, scar infested delinquents that nobody’s ever heard of for an organization that hasn’t existed for nearly a decade? Do you think anyone cares what you’ve accomplished south of the border? If you do then you’re no better than Chris Sinclair; constantly bragging up his time in Mexico as Falcon. We all know what happened to him when he tried to mess with me: victory after victory for me; disappointment, shame and retirement for him. Hell, it seems that any Anglo can go down to Mexico and be an instant star. The only problem is that all of this “success” that you’ve had doesn’t mean a d*mn when you have to compete against the best in the world; nestled in this grand, North American empire. And really, since you’ve been on the main stage in the top two organizations of the past five years, can you really tell me that you’ve beaten better competition than me? I’ve beaten the likes of Grendel…Slayback…Henry W. Miller who actually won something in World Pro…the same goes for Firebomb…the Phil…Jeffrey Hollywood…Eno Redrum…the list goes on and on. You can praise up yourself on how you defeated Mikey…but that’s just one man. While you’ve been busy destroying one human being, I’ve been busy dissecting two organizations around you, Timothy. So, Timothy, go ahead and brag yourself up on what you WERE ten years ago because at Hog Heaven, everyone will just remember that you WERE another notch in my belt as Southern Heritage Champion.

[Doug licks his lips as he takes the smile away for the moment.]

DG: You seem to try and bother me by even mocking my promo style; saying I take too long and include too many people when preparing for them. The truth is that you’re trying to break me down because you’re upset with your misfortunes. I mean, besides Tarja, who can you truly say that you consider a close, true friend? You have a niece and nephew but how often do you actually see them? I know your lawyer loves to take advantage of you in anyway that he can. In fact, if I read the report right, he’s the one who’s leading the bidding on your California house. Then, you see me with all of my loved ones as well as the unending adoration of the fans and it tears you up inside. Even at your highest peak of interest in AJPW, all you could get was recognition from the smart marks in the chat rooms and in the dirt sheets. People didn’t cheer you; show their respect for you; indicate that they even considered loving you during your time in any arena. Why? Because you found the need to treat them like dirt and they returned the favor in kind. Come full circle, a decade later, and you’re still that lonely, little boy looking for someone to pat you on the back and say “Good job.” Timothy, I’ll be the one to do that…but not in the way you expect. I’ll pat you on the back before motioning to the exit. You’re time will be over and it’ll be time for someone else to get their shot at my title. You’ll be able to go home, have children with your woman and hope to God that he can at least look you in the eye with respect…instead of everyone else who looks at you with disdain and pity. As for the style of my promo, at least I give something different to the people instead of recycling the same gothic style that can be heard by anyone in a deep, dark dungeon. Really, the only differences between you and Creed Michaels are hairstyle and size of entourage.

[Doug laughs for a moment and enjoys the fact that he can find something to laugh about Creed. He quickly composes himself; wiping at his face with his right hand.]

DG: However, when it comes to length, if something important needs to be said then I say it. Still, allow me to sum things up with this simple statement: I’m going to beat you, Timothy; in your own match, by the one measure with which you’ve never been beaten, and end your career; leaving you staring up at the RCW Southern Heritage Champion…Doug Gavelon.

[Doug stands up, walks over and turns off the camera. He then proceeds into his bedroom as the moonlight starts to shine through the curtains. He removes his shirt and goes to work on his boots. Suddenly, he stops and starts to vigorously shake his feet back and forth; a huge smile on his face.]

~Now that I’m off camera, I guess I’d better start “shaking in my boots” like Ase said. I am soooooooo afraid of him, after all.~

[Doug bursts out laughing as he finishes removing his boots. He strips down to his underwear before turning the lights off and slinging the covers over him. As his eyes close on another day, one last thought crosses his mind.]

~Will see who’s scared of who once I get him in that cage.~