==========
January 26th, 2020
Chicago, Illinois
Off Camera
==========
He could feel the eyes of everyone upon him,
judging him, as if he had made a mistake. He could feel the eyes of those
backstage at the United Center here in Chicago, Illinois questioning his
judgment, as if he were to blame for his team’s loss. “The Assassin”
Clyde Sutter knows better. Sutter knows
that despite their looks and their judgment that he is not to blame. No, he did not lose this Trios Buy In
opportunity; he places the blame entirely upon the shoulders of his teammates;
Konrad Raab, Aaron Blackbourne, and Owen Cruze…
...but especially Konrad. The old fucker got
beat. He was the who got pinned.
Konrad’s utter incompetence cost Clyde Sutter a golden opportunity that may
never come his way again. Now the next stage of Trios is coming, the
draft, one of which will be the choice of the winning team captains and the other
being a random drawing. Either way, The Assassin must rely on luck and
luck alone to get placed on a Trios team.
He doesn’t expect to be chosen by any of the team captains, because they
are idiots.
Dumb fucks, the lot of them! They do not have
vision! They do not have imagination and
most importantly none of the eight captains has the balls to do what is
necessary to win. None of them will willingly pick him. They will pick their best friends. Their buddies. And then he will have to rely on the random draw. Needless to say, “The Assassin” is not happy
about this turn of events…
“MASON!”
No, he is not happy one bit. His angry gait,
the way he storms angrily through the backstage area of the United Center tells
of the story of a rampaging monster looking for his prey. Sutter can feel
the judgmental eyes upon him but he does his best to ignore them. They are unimportant and irrelevant to
him. He only wants to see Mason, to take
his anger and frustrations out upon Mason Van Stanton. Someone must pay
and he can’t seem to find any of his stupid tag team partners from earlier in
the night, so Van Stanton will have to do.
“Where the fuck did you go, Mason?!”
The Assassin shouts angrily at the top of his lungs, hoping to get his agent’s
attention, wherever he may be lurking. He pauses to give Van Stanton time
to respond but after hearing nothing he shouts again, louder this time. “Mason!”
“Looking for someone, mate?”
That voice is familiar but it isn’t Mason’s.
This beautiful feminine voice is unmistakable. A smirk forms upon
Sutter’s lips. He was not expecting this
particular visitor, someone who had been attempting to avoid him for a long
time now. Was it cowardice?
Fear? Doesn’t matter. Now Glory Braddock sits on a stool still in
her wrestling gear, watching with a smug smirk on her lovely face. She
seems confident enough to harass him now.
Taking his anger out on her may be even better than taking it out on Van
Stanton.
“What ya want, bitch?”
Sutter snarls angrily as he marches closer to the blonde bombshell. Glory
just chuckles and shakes her head.
“Things didn’t go the way you had hoped, did they?”
“What’s it to ya?! I held my own! I did my job!”
“So it was everyone else’s fault then?” Braddock
asks, arching her brow out of curiosity. Sutter snidely smirks and nods
his head.
“Now yer getting it!”
“Bloody hell you’re thick…” Braddock’s
voice trails off.
“Wanna repeat that, bitch?!”
Sutter is smirking no more. He is angry yet again, as evidenced by his
scowl. Glory hops up off of the stool and approaches Sutter.
Neither backs down. They glare at one
another.
“Take it from someone who has actually WON a Trios
Tournament, you win these bloody things as a team and you lose them as a team.”
“I get that! But what you don’t seem to get
is that my TEAM fucking sucked!”
“Oh really? And you were so great, is that
it?”
“Yeah...that’s right…”
The British Bombshell shakes her head in disbelief.
“Bloody hell, Clyde. Your team had some great talent...well, most of your
team had great talent, including you...you have a ton of untapped potential and
trust me, I know. You were a part of my school, so I know. What you lack…”
She reaches out and touches his forehead “...is
right up here.”
“Huh?” Sutter
asks curiously, seemingly lost on what Glory is implying. She rolls her
eyes.
“You are dense. You are an idiot. You
do not think things through, strategize, or make any plans of any sort.
You just go out there and your plan is to beat people up but you do not have
any plans on HOW to beat people up.”
“The fuck are you talking about?!” The
Assassin exclaims angrily. “There is no thought required! You just go
out there and kick their fucking heads in!”
Braddock smirks knowingly. “And that right
there, Clyde, is why you lost. You cannot just march into that ring and
fight without a plan. You need a plan, you need a strategy, you need...”
“Blah, blah, blah…” Sutter
rolls his eyes “...that’s the same boring shit Sophie kept spewing.”
Sophie was once the head trainer of The Braddock
Wrestling School. Sophie still does assist in training the students but
on a part-time basis. Sophie was the head trainer when Clyde Sutter was
at the school. Sophie is also Glory
Braddock’s best friend.
“It isn’t bullshit, it is the truth. You
can’t win without a proper strategy.” Braddock
pauses but then shrugs her shoulders. “But what do I care? Go ahead
and screw up your career. Ruin it
and send it to hell, not in a blaze of glory but with a whimper. People
like you do not belong in this sport.”
That statement, about how Sutter does not belong in
this sport, is not arrogant in the same way she has said it to others.
This is more vile, more personal. The
Assassin can sense this and while it does set him off he decides to pay her
back by pushing the buttons of The British Bombshell. And Sutter knows
just exactly what buttons to push.
“Awww, I’m hurt. You’re not still sore about
how me and your daughter split, are ya?” He
sneers, knowing that bringing this situation up will trigger Braddock’s
anger. Sure enough, it does, as her eyes light up with rage.
“Do not talk about my daughter you piece of
garbage!”
“Women. Ya’ll are nothing but a good
lay. Objects.” He chuckles lightly but then shakes his
head. “Not Melinda, she was more. Ya raised her well, Glory. We coulda took on the world and kicked its
ass, her and I. But she has too much of your bullshit running through her
veins. But don’t worry…”
The Assassin winks “...Melinda was damn fine in
bed. Gives great blows.”
If Sutter wants to enrage Glory, to push her
buttons, then he did just that. Instead of slapping the taste out of his
mouth, The British Bombshell balls up her fist and blasts him in the jaw with a
right cross. This staggers the bigger man backward. Braddock braces herself for an onslaught but
Sutter just chuckles nastily as he rubs his jaw.
“Nice right hand ya got there.”
“I should have you arrested you piece of shit!”
Glory exclaims angrily.
“But ya can’t! Because you know just as well
as I do that everything Melinda and I did was consensual.”
“Says you. I think she’s just afraid to
testify. Afraid to come forward.”
“How the fuck is she afraid to come forward against
me?” Sutter asks with a snicker, looking somewhat
astonished. “No one likes me, Glory. If I fell off the face of the
earth not a damn soul would miss me. She would be perfectly safe
testifying against me with the lies you’re spewing. Unless…”
The Assassin’s voice trails off, then a smirk forms
upon his face as he begins to realize the truth of the matter “...Melinda
has confirmed that everything we did together we consensual, didn’t she?”
Glory glares angrily. If looks could kill,
The Assassin would be dead. Still, The British Bombshell doesn’t say a
word. Sutter finally remarks. “I
thought so.”
“Gloat all you want, mate, but understand that I
will not rest until you are right where you belong; in a cage, like the animal
that you are, and not out there in MY wrestling ring! The evidence will
be there, even if I have to make it up!”
“Tell Melinda I said hello…”
Sutter remarks with a wink.
“Go to hell!” Glory
snarls as she turns and storms away angrily. The Assassin is
pleased. He may not have won his Trios
Buy In tonight but at least he enjoyed this interaction with his old mentor
Glory Braddock. He pushed all of the right buttons, pissed her off, and
now she’s running away. It feels good to
intimidate a legend.
Legend. Pffft…
The Assassin hears footsteps approaching from
behind. He turns and spots the familiar figure of his agent, Mason Van
Stanton, standing there not too far away. Sutter looks on quizzically at
Van Stanton.
“How much of that did ya hear?”
“All of it.” Mason
says with a disappointed sigh as he approaches his client. “As much as I may
dislike the entire Braddock family, the fact is that they are a very powerful
and influential family. They have pull and connections everywhere.”
“So?!”
“So, what I am saying is that it is not wise to
provoke her.”
Sutter snickers nastily, shaking his head. “See,
this is why you pencil neck suits piss me the fuck off, Mason. You’re
hypocrites, the lot of you.” He points a finger at Van Stanton. “You
yourself provoked her by becoming my agent and getting me into this wrestling
business, despite her best efforts to blackball me.”
“Correct, but that is all I intended to do. I
was finished. You, you keep poking the
bear. Eventually that bear will maim you, especially if you continue
threatening her family.”
“I didn’t threaten her damn family.” Sutter
remarks.
“Speaking of the Braddock family, I need an answer
to this question; and I need you to be completely honest with me.”
“What?!”
“Did you sexually assault Melinda Braddock?”
As if Clyde Sutter was not angry enough before due
to the loss he suffered earlier tonight, this question from Mason Van Stanton
just sets him off even further. Sutter reaches out and snatches Van
Stanton by his shirt collar and jerks him up close, to where the two are nose
to nose.
“Are you seriously asking me that?!”
“Clyde...Mr. Sutter...please, I cannot help you
unless you play as a member of this team right here, and so I need to know the
truth. Did you sexually assault her?
Yes or no?”
“NO!”
Sutter angrily lets go of his grip upon Van
Stanton. “Like I told Braddock, it was all consensual.”
“Well for your sake I hope you are telling the
truth.”
“Oh what’s wrong, Mason? Ya don’t believe me
now?!”
“You do not exactly have a sparkling record when it
comes to women, Mr. Sutter, or need I remind you as to why you have to attend a
psychiatrist?”
Sutter growls angrily upon being reminded of
this. Clyde Sutter had hooked up with Anna Davis, the daughter of a
wealthy businessman Mason knew. Sutter introduced Anna to his world, the
world of the streets. He ruined her with
drugs, sex, and lots of partying. Her family agreed not to press charges
if he never saw her again, if he left her alone. That was just the tip of the iceberg,
though. Sutter would dump Anna by leaving her on the side of the road,
not knowing and not caring whether or not she got home safe. Now to stay away from the possibility of
charges being pressed against him, he has to see a psychiatrist. What The
Assassin doesn’t realize is that this is mostly Mason Van Stanton’s idea. The crooked agent is always looking out for
himself and himself alone, now he hopes that these psychiatric sessions will
provide him with an opening to protect himself from prosecution in the event
that Clyde Sutter does get into some serious trouble.
“I hear ya, Mason…”
Sutter says quietly “...I hear ya…”
“Good. Now then, tonight may not have ended
the way you had hoped but there is still light at the end of the tunnel.”
“How ya figure that?” Sutter
asks in a demanding tone.
“You performed well out there, Mr. Sutter. There
are eight Trios team captains and I am certain that not all of them will be
foolish enough to just pick their friends. Someone will see your talent
for what it is and choose you for their team.
And if I have to pull a few strings as well, then so be it. But I
will do whatever I have to in order to ensure you get on a Trios team.”
The Assassin nods his head approvingly. “Sounds
good. You make that happen, you make sure I get on a Trios team, because
I want to win a Trios contract and shock the world. My time is now.”
==========
January 31st, 2020
Raleigh, North Carolina
Off Camera
==========
He is not crazy. He is not fucking crazy!
Yet “The Assassin” Clyde Sutter finds himself
pacing angrily in the office of a psychiatrist headquartered in Raleigh, North
Carolina. This is all part of Mason Van Stanton’s plan to protect Sutter
from potential prosecution. And yet here
again lies the hypocrisy. Mason is just
as much a criminal as Mason and yet he is considered a legitimate
businessman. Meanwhile Sutter has to come meet with a psychiatrist
because he is viewed as a danger to society and mentally unbalanced.
The office is plain in its decor, with solid cream
colored walls and a wine colored plush carpeting on the floor. There is a
nice, comfortable black leather sofa against a wall that faces a large brown
oak desk. There is a nameplate on the
desk that reads “Fairground”...
...Sutter sneers angrily. Whoever this bitch
is, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a damn. This is all a waste of his time. His
time is being wasted right now, this very moment, as he is being kept waiting
on this psychiatrist’s arrival. Where the hell is she? Why is she keeping him waiting? Lucky for Sutter, the wait is not much
longer.
The Assassin hears the doorknob to the office
turning. He turns in time to see the door open and he watches a brown
haired woman walks in in a green blaze, white blouse, matching green skirt and
pumps. She smiles politely at Sutter but The Assassin has no plans to be
polite. None whatsoever.
“Hello, my name is Teresa Fairground. You
must be Clyde Sutter?” The psychiatrist holds out her hand
but Sutter just looks down at it and then into her eyes. He refuses the
handshake, instead sneering at her.
“Yeah, that’s me. This better be worth it,
because I don’t want to be here.”
“I appreciate the honesty, Mr. Sutter; this session
is already off to a good start.” She
motions to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
“I’d rather stand if ya don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself.” She
shrugs as she approaches her desk and sits down in the comfortable black
leather rolling chair. “Although this could be long. Are you certain
you do not wish to sit down?”
“It builds endurance.”
Sutter answers in a sarcastic tone.
Fairground takes in a deep breath before sighing
out of frustration. “Mr. Sutter, are you going to take this seriously?”
“Not planning on it.”
He remarks with a chuckle.
“That is not wise. If what your agent tells
me is true, you need my help in order to keep you out of a potential criminal
charge.”
Mason Van Stanton spilled the beans on Clyde
Sutter’s actions? What else could he have said? This revelation was enough to set off The
Assassin. “What the hell did that jackass say?!”
“He spoke of your...issues with women, he spoke of
a Rebecca, an Anna, and a Melinda by name but did not go into specifics.
He also mentioned potential drug use.”
“That piece of shit…”
Sutter growls angrily.
“Mr. Sutter, I have no intentions of letting any of
this go outside of this room. Anything and everything that you say here
stays with me. But you have to
cooperate. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand,” he
nods his head “I understand because that’s the same song and dance I get
from Mason all the fucking time. And I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve
told him before; I’m not afraid of jail.
I’ve seen worse and experienced worse in my lifetime.”
“But now you have a good life. You are a
professional wrestler, living the dream. Do you want to put all of that
at risk?” She asks curiously with a raised eyebrow.
Sutter stares angrily at the psychiatrist before finally conceding with a shake
of his head.
“No…”
“I thought not.” She
motions to the sofa again. “Now please, sit down. Let’s talk.”
Sutter sighs as he approaches the sofa and sits
down. The psychiatrist nods her head, smiling confidently. “Good, so
let’s begin with your family.”
“That’ll be a short conversation.”
“Hmmm?”
“I got none!” Sutter
exclaims.
“You do not know who your parents are?”
“No.” He
shakes his head. “My earliest memories are from an orphanage. I ran
away at eighteen and lived on the streets on my own ever since. I lived
on the streets even when I was training at The Braddock Wrestling School
learning to be a wrestler. All I knew was how to beat people up because
that’s what I was good at. I had to
fight to survive and I knew I could make a living hurting people. I
thought that dream was gone when Glory Braddock kicked me out of the school but
then Mason Van Stanton came into my life.
He put me up in that nice apartment in Raleigh. The rest is
history...a history I know nothing of…”
“Very interesting. So your very existence is
a blank slate? You know nothing of your true background.”
“That’s what I just said.”
Sutter snarls.
“Have you ever considered who your parents may have
been?” Fairground asks curiously.
“No, and quite honestly I do not give a damn.
They abandoned me, so what do I fucking care?”
“That could be the source of all of your anger, Mr.
Sutter. You are angry at being abandoned by the people who were supposed
to care for you and love you and raise you, so you are taking that anger out on
the rest of the world. Perhaps finding out who your family really is and
why they abandoned you could help heal those still open wounds?”
“Maybe, maybe not?” Sutter
shrugs his shoulders. “I really don’t give a damn.”
“Well I do. As a matter of fact, I will make
a note of this to Mr. Van Stanton; he has considerably more contacts than I do,
he may be able to assist us in tracking down your family.”
“Why should I care about my damn family?!
They abandoned me!”
“It may help, Mr. Sutter…”
==========
On Camera
==========
The camera begins recording in what appears to be a
back alley. The lightning is poor, just good enough for this promo to air
and just good enough to see that this place is dirty, and not the kind of place
you want to hang around for too long. A few moments later Mason Van
Stanton emerges into view, flanked by his client, “The Assassin” Clyde
Sutter. The two individuals are a
contrast to one another with Mason in a black and white suit looking nice and
crisp, very well done, whereas Sutter is wearing denim jeans, black boots, no
shirt, and a long black trenchcoat.
“Behold my client! Behold The Assassin!
Behold Clyde Sutter!” Mason Van Stanton motions with a
grandiose wave to Sutter, who just stands there, staring stoically, almost
glaring into the camera. Van Stanton just chuckles. “First of all, to
show that there are no hard feelings and that my client and myself are truly
good sportsmen, we would like to congratulate Selena Frost, Marie Jones, Jay
Gold, and that other guy...what is his name again…”
“Doormat.” Sutter
remarks coldly.
“Oh, yes, of course. Tommy ‘Doormat’
Valentine. Congratulations on your victory at Day of Infamy. My
client and I would also like to congratulate Jordan Majors, Ace Marshall,
Kelsai Adamson-Mason, and Peyton Rice for their victory. All eight of you
truly earned the right to captain the Trios teams this year. Congratulations!”
Van Stanton begins to applaud
enthusiastically. Sutter does not move a muscle. “Secondly, as a piece
of advice to the eight captains I would suggest that you pay attention to what
my client does this week on Breakdown to Tommy Valentine. What you will
all quickly realize is that if my client’s team had only followed his lead,
then things would have been different.
My client is a true leader, a man among men, and a monster who will run
through the entire Trios field by himself if he has to, but he will bring two
of you along with him on this journey, because he is benevolent like that.”
Mason Van Stanton winks as he steps aside.
Clyde Sutter now takes center stage. “Mason is right, Day of Infamy woulda
been very different had my...partners... just done things my way.
Unfortunately it was not to be.”
Sutter shakes his head angrily. “I was put with
three goodie-goodie punk ass bitches. Owen Cruze, Aaron Blackbourne,
Konrad Raab, not any of you had the damn guts to do what was necessary to get
the job done. Someone like me, I have the killer instinct not only to
kick the living shit out of my opponents if I have to but to rip their damn
throats out if need be. You weren’t willing to reach out and take
it. Now I have to rely on luck? Worse yet, I have to rely on one of the eight
team captains being smart enough to realize that I am their golden ticket to a
Trios Tournament win? Frankly, I do not put much stock in the
intelligence of the buffoons choosing the teams. They’ll pick their friends. Their buddies.”
He pats himself on the chest. “Thus it is my job
to prove to the eight of you that won that you NEED me. And I can think
of no better way to prove that than to kick the crap out of one team captain in
particular, namely ‘The Doormat’ Tommy Valentine. Or maybe I should just
call you Kandis’s bitch because that’s all ya are. Anyone who thinks that team is an equal
partnership is a dumbass or just plain blind to the reality that is staring at you.
What I see when I see you ugly mug staring at me is a puny, whiny, pathetic
little bitch. You are her whipping
boy. You are at her beck and call. She ripped your balls off and put them in a
jaw that sits on her mantle. You’re not even a real man anymore. You’re a little boy who needs his ass kicked
right back into reality and I am just the man to do it.”
“This is going to be little more than sparring for
me. I don’t expect you to put forth much of a fight, boy. Championship gold isn’t on the line, thus you
got no reason to actually put forth any real effort. And Kandis isn’t
there to hold your damn hand along the way.
It’s just you and me, one on one.
It’s you and The Assassin. You
will serve your purpose, though, Tommy. I can tell ya that much. You will serve your purpose because your
purpose is to make me look good. And I
will look pretty damn good by burying your fucking ass in Portland!”
Sutter steps away. Van Stanton resumes his
position in the center. He smirks knowingly. “There you have it,
ladies and gentlemen, my client Clyde Sutter is going to fight Tommy Valentine
on Breakdown and he will use Valentine, a multi-time former champion in SCW, to
make an example. He will make an example out of Tommy by destroying him,
by leaving him in a complete and utter mess.
So to the other seven team captains, watch what happens to Tommy, and
then make your decision wisely.”
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