Denver, Colorado. Local Bar.
Dustin Runnels: Not to say I told you so... But...
Ken's fist clenched the jar of beer and he nodded. Dustin was right... He had been right all along, but for some reason he hadn't say a thing... Until now. But why?
Ken Anderson: I know... I know... You saw this coming didn't you?
Dustin shrugged, they had been having beers in this Denver bar for the past couple of hours, and it took them this long to get to the topic at hand, Ken's actual situation within EBWF...
Dustin Runnels: Yeah.
Ken knew it.
Ken Anderson: Why didn't you say a thing about it?
Dustin took a sip of his beer and sighed.
Dustin Runnels: You know, you had so many ideas going on... You wanted us to have the belts, you wanted us to be relevant again... But...
Ken felt himself growing inpatient.
Ken Anderson: But what?
Awkward, hard as concrete silence. Dustin opened his mouth, no words came out.
Dustin Runnels: Comedy acts aren't exactly where management look for future main eventers... I thought I had learned that lesson in the nineties. You have a lot of potential Ken, but just... Not like this. On top of that, I think I'm wrestling on loaned time.
Ken Anderson: Loaned time? You haven't had a match in months...
Dustin Runnels: Exactly! Do you think I will be able to get back into the ring anytime soon with my shoulder as it is? If you ask me, Goldust is holding Ken Back. Sure, sometimes we're very funny... But that's not going to take you to the World Title... Ken I've seen the way you check that belt out, I've seen the little glow on your eyes when you see it on the EBWF magazine, on TV... Ken you want it badly, and deep down inside I know you have what it takes to get it.
Ken Anderson: Woah... Wait a minute... Are you saying...?
Ken dropped the jar handle and looked at his friend, who took a painfully slow nod.
Dustin Runnels: Yes. I have actually given it a whole lot of thought, I've considered as much alternatives as I could and... In the end I think it might be better if I take a step aside from the ring.
Silence again, not even a sip of beer would take away the bitter taste of Ken's mouth.
Ken Anderson: Really?
Dustin Runnels: Yeah... You know, I was at the doctor.
Ken nodded.
Ken Anderson: What did he say?
Dustin Runnels: Rotor cuff...
Ken Anderson: Torn?
Dustin Runnels: It's been torn for a while now... Been working through a bit of pain, but it was supposed to heal on it's own if I rested my arm for a few months... Still nothing. Now I might have to need surgery.
Ken Anderson: How bad is it?
Dustin Runnels: 6 months minimum.
It was huge stone after huge stone dropping down his esophagus... He was just waiting for his wife to text him next to tell her their dog died and that she was leaving. He still tried to support him
Ken Anderson: Sorry to hear that... I know this business runs on your veins.
Dustin Runnels: Don't worry... Been thinking about it for a while... You know Ken, I've had my fill of being in the ring... I know I was born to make this, but now I am trying to figure out how to still get the best of it with a broken shoulder and without risking my neck on a ring.
Ken nodded.
Ken Anderson: Yeah... You know I've given it a lot of thought as well. After being a transitional champion, what else is left for me? I think we've pretty much done all we could do with Mr. Kennedy, know what I mean?
Dustin Runnels: Yeah, you know... We all could use a bit of a scramble, and I think that loss Mr. Kennedy took to Paul London two weeks ago is more than perfect for a change...
Ken Anderson: You think?
Dustin Runnels: I'm sure of it...
Ken Anderson: What about you?
Dustin Runnels: What about what?
Ken Anderson: What are you going to do?
Dustin Runnels: I'll figure something out... You focus on your rematch clause against Paul London, I have a feeling you guys will lock horns at the pay per view... We need a fresh start, we need to get you back on track...
EBWF.NET EXCLUSIVE PROMO.
The scene opened up in some sort of foyer... Kinda old looking french inn Foyer, ever played Luigi's Mansion? -I know this isn't a Trenty Roleplay but still. Lights are dim, thunder and lightning on the outside of the house... A tall figure dressed in black slowly opens a door and enters the room... Not wasting any time he proceeds to a set of wooden stairs... Black pants, black long sleeved T-shirt and a black long leather coat with black sunglasses -At night, cause cool people wear sunglasses during night time. As lightning struck the outsides of the house, the jolt of white light lit up the man's face... It was the blonde Loudmouth from Green Bay... With a serious facial expression he walked up the stairs and turned a right into a room. Inside the room another figure awaited for him concealed in the shadows, his back turned to Ken.
Goldpheus: At last...
The mysterious man turned around, and still in the dark, motioned for a chair right next to Ken Kennedy... The tall figure moved towards another chair right in front of it... Sitting down and shedding some light on his face. Fingers entwined, resting under his chin, a black leather long coat over his gold and black jumpsuit... Between them a small tea table with a glass of water.
Goldpheus: As you might have guessed by now... I am Goldpheus.
Ken looked at the man attentively.
Goldpheus: I imagine right now you're feeling a bit like Alice... Tumbling down the rabbit hole. I have seen you Mr...
Mr. Kennedy: How did you...
Goldpheus: There'd be time for answers. Right now I can see it in your eyes... You have the eyes of a man who accepts what he sees, but who deep down inside is longing for awakening... You're here looking for answers, I'm about to give them to you.
Ken looked at the man rather suspiciously.
Goldpheus: Do you believe in Fate, Ken?
Ken squinted his eyes a little...
Mr. Kennedy: I don't, I believe one must build a path as he walks day by day...
Goldpheus smiled and nodded.
Goldpheus: Couldn't expect less from you... Let me tell you, Ken. Everything is not lost, you're not stuck in a dead end... I can feel you are repressed, I can feel you want to be freed. Do you know what I'm talking about?
Ken nodded.
Mr. Kennedy: Kayfabe?
Goldpheus smiled.
Goldpheus: Would you like to know what it is?
With a couple of nods of his head, barely noticable though, Ken replied to Goldpheus.
Goldpheus: Kayfabe is everywhere... All around us... Even now in this very room... You can see it when you watch EBWF TV, when you cut a promo... You can feel it when you are in the ring, when you bust someone open with a chair... It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth...
Mr. Kennedy: What truth?
Goldpheus: That you're a slave Ken. Like everyone else you were born into bondage... Put into a prison that you can touch, smell or taste... A prison for your mind.
Ken sat awestruck at the statements by Goldpheus.
Goldpheus: Whenever you see talented people like Brodus Clay, Zack Ryder or Curt Hawkins not getting the push they deserve despite having the ablities to succeed in this business... That's kayfabe working. When you see someone unbeatable like Goldberg... That's kayfabe working. However, no one can be told what Kayfabe is... You'll have to see it from yourself.
Goldpheus leaned in to whisper.
Goldpheus: This is your last chance... There's no turning back.
Out of his pocket, Goldpheus takes out a small case, opening it and taking it's contents in each of his hands, closing his fists. He extends his left hand first... Opening his palm to show Ken a blue capsule.
Goldpheus: You take the blue pill... The story ends here, you wake up in your bed believing whatever you want to believe in... You will continue with your life of funny gags and anal jokes with your friend who follows you around...
His other palm opened to show a red pill.
Goldpheus: You take the red pill... You stay in Wonderland and find out how far the rabbit hole really goes. All I'm offering is a chance for you to decide... A chance you haven't been given in quite a while...
With little to no hesitation, Ken reached out and took the red pill between his thumb and index... Putting it between his lips, he grabbed the glass of water from the top of the table and gulped down the pill. Goldpheus stood up.
Goldpheus: Follow me...
Ken tried to stand up and follow, but trip fell onto the ground on his back. Goldpheus knelt before him and removed his sunglasses, he seemed knocked out cold. Goldpheus rocked his shoulders back and forth to wake him up.
Goldpheus: Ken? Ken? Ken? Can you hear me Ken?
Some woman dressed in leather broke into the room and saw the scene.
Woman: Something wrong?
Goldpheus: He passed out... He needs to rest... Please accomodate MR. ANDERSON on a bed until he's ready to depart... He's on his way... After all, he is the CHOSEN ONE.
Ken opened his eyes a little mouthing out a tiny "M... M...Mi....Mister..."
Mr. Anderson: Anderson...
Goldpheus smirked and the scene faded to black.
THE PEPSI ARENA - EBWF AFTERMATH - APRIL 29TH.
The Scene opened up as a camera panned up someone's feet on to his jeans and black leather jacket... Gum in mouth, crystal clear blue eyes and a sphinx like facial expression, former Intercontinental champion, Ken Anderson. The crowd cheered for him haven't seeing him in a few weeks after Paul London chalked off a victory against him and became the new intercontinental champion. Not a word has been said about the match, what he'd do next or what his thoughts were at the moment concerning Paul London and their upcoming pay per view match... He walked along the backstage area being followed by a camera when he was stopped by Michael Cole. His intentions to interview him were more than clear... Mic on his hand and right in front of his path... Ken hadn't lock eyes with the interviewer... Who doubted about beginning his work.
Michael Cole: Mr. Anderson... We haven't heard from you in weeks and the EBWF Universe is dying to know what's on your mind after what happened a couple of weeks...
Mr. Anderson: What's done is done Cole...
He moved his chin up a bit and nodded, looking over Cole's shoulder.
Mr. Anderson: This is a jungle afterwards isn't it? Made of elastic vines and a canvas. Dreams are made, dreams are broken... Some of us have had more dreams broken than made out there? DAMN RIGHT ABOUT THAT... But still here I am, ready to go out there and do what needs to be done...
Ken gave a few chews on his bubblegum a couple of times.
Mr. Anderson: Do you know something? I've watched the tape over and over again at home... I've sat and watched me and that moronic stoner go at it... Back and forth... Back and forth... And something bothered me... No, it wasn't the way he levered himself on the ropes to beat me. No, it wasn't his skanky girl's perfume all over the arena... Do you want to know what bothered me? The fact that Paul London was right on his reading about me... In the end I was a fierce lion lacking teeth to go into battle, he foresaw it and took his time... He beat me.
He moved his head in a brief nod. Anderson followed up by a slow clapping on his hands.
Mr. Anderson: Kudos... Congratulations... He got into my head, messed it up, shattered all my dreams and hopes... Shattered what I stood for in the EBWF Universe... In a single match. Not many can brag about doing so much damage in a single match without any weapons or screwing up a move... Paul London destroyed me two weeks ago... He brought me to my knees before God and the EBWF fans... And I had to take it like a man.
Michael Cole: Mr. Anderson, has anything changed since your match?
Mr. Anderson: Of course it has Cole... As I was telling you, I sat and reviewed my recent matches... Coming to the conclusion Paul London was right about me... But don't get me wrong. The fact that some moronic, lunatic, delusional pot head made a right appreciation about me and hit me where it hurts doesn't mean he would do it a second time Cole... I might be a cheese head, but I'm not that dumb... A lot has changed.
Michael Cole: Paul London will most likely continue toying with your mind, playing tricks to enrage you and irate you, like he learnt to do from his mentor... Brian Kendrick.
Mr. Anderson: I know Michael, I know he might come out and mock me, trick me into a trap so he can take the chance and beat me for good... But rest assured that is not going to happen tonight. Tonight I came here to settle a score, and by settling a score I mean from man to man... I'm not that mindless looneybird who would go balls to the wall on a match with him without a plan of action... Don't let marijuana fool you Cole, the guy is clever as a fox, traitorous as a hyena, and venomous like a cobra... Unluckily for him this Green Bay redneck, hockey, gum chewing asshole says it's open season...
Michael Cole: By Settling a score you mean regaining your title belt?
Ken genuinely shrugged and turned his head to a side.
Mr. Anderson: ...Or sending him to the Intensive care unit along with his boyfriend. I'm bigger than a belt Cole... I have been relevant to this place by pulling out all sort of monkey business and crazy antics you could think off... That was my conclusion after watching my last match with Paul London five thousand and five ####ing one times... I was a clown, and I had a fair amount of respect among fans and co-workers... Now Imagine if I took things seriously... The thought makes more than one of my co-worker's knees to shake, I know.
Ken snatched the microphone away from Cole and planted a hand on his face, shoving him out of the scene.
Mr. Anderson: So... Another interesting conclusion was... If Paul London was to mess with MY HEAD... What would he do if there was NO HEAD TO MESS WITH? Could he twist madness even furthermore? Could he feed this beast he created even more? I wouldn't recommend it... Because I have been absent during the whole time he and his puny little pals have tried to run this business by bullying people and pushing them around... Sometimes all it takes is a small taste of his own medicine. For some Texan cowboy? Being hogtied like cattle and shown who the boss really is... Wasn't that what he wanted?
Ken shrugged again, getting closer to the camera.
Mr. Anderson: Wasn't that what you wanted? Didn't you say publicly you wanted to see the real Ken Anderson? You apparently were sick of the simple minded... boring... outdated... loser! AND I'M USING THE EXACT SAME WORDS YOU USED, PAULIE. I can't assure I will... As you said "rise to the heights of a World Champion", and let's be honest... As much as I like to talk...
Ken shrugged yet again, looking up and smiling for a brief moment.
Mr. Anderson: I'm not in a position to demand a World Title shot... I would say I don't even deserve the rematch for the Intercontinental Title either... You see, I don't like being handed things... I want things the hard way, so this match between you and me? I didn't ask for it... It's on my contract, the rematch clause... Call me a lucky bastard if you want... But this is an opportunity I will not let slip... You and I we have some unfinished business...
He rubbed his head, trying to figure out what he wanted to say properly.
Mr. Anderson: What I'm trying to say is... I'm facing you tonight and I don't give a rat's ass about your title... All I want to do tonight is please you Paulie! Because as a former Intercontinental Champion I know it can be a pain in the neck to find a good opponent to make the evening of these people worthy... No wonder why I came across you and your baby blue Aladdin attire or whatever you're wearing to the ring these days! Your rant last time went on and on... New Intercontinental champion... BLAH BLAH BLAH... No Competition.... BLAH BLAH BLAH... Bring prestige back to the title... BLAH BLAH BLAH... You said how much you wanted to make the Intecontinental title relevant and all that jack...
Ken moved his hand as if it talked, mimicking Paul London's rant.
Mr. Anderson: I never thought I'd ever say this, but the time for talking is OVER. You wanted competition, you wanted evolution, you wanted aggression... Paulie you asked for all of this! I hope you remind your exact words when you're laying down, dazed and confused, hopefully in a pool of your own blood as I rise above you... I'm really hoping that happens tonight, because that way not only I will teach you a lesson worth it's weight in gold about choosing words carefully... I will also will be able to do what I wasn't able to do last time we met... No, not beating you... No, not leaving the ring with the Intercontinental title... PROVING YOU WRONG. Last week, you were right... I was down in the dumps, I had lost my north... This week however... Tsk. Tsk. You couldn't be more wrong if you're thinking you will go inside that ring with a peroxide jester once again... I think it's quite funny, because this sudden change on my way of seeing things was thanks to you... And now you will be the first one to witness how much I mean what I told you Paulie...
Ken chuckled a little.
Mr. Anderson: You will wish you had never even crossed my path, you will curse the day you went in front of a camera and broke me completely... You and your people will be the ones to witness this new me... I promise! Paulie I promise I will move earth and heaven to make the Midnight Gang to pay for everything they have done to people in EBWF and me... How, are you asking? Well, I might sign for an appointment with your beloved and retired Doctor... I might pay a visit to the Harley Quinn wannabe you used to hang out with... Hell! I might even go visit Mr. Kendrick in his hospital room and make sure his stay lengthens one week for every shattered dream and every tear dropped by innocent people... Twisted? Perhaps. Evil? I don't know... It is what I learned from you and your people Paulie... Nothing more, nothing less... But I wouldn't want you to grow feeling uneasy for your boyfriend... As I wouldn't want you to feel left out... Tonight it's about you! Just like you said you wanted it to be... Against that ruthless, reckless, complex, evolved individual you longed to match up against! Careful what you wish for Paulie... Careful! I'll meet you in the ring...
Ken smirked and dropped the microphone, staring at the camera with the mocking smirk as the scene faded.
