Family Ties P1 - Vs. SuMa
Nov 30, 2021 10:53:02 GMT -5
Greg T.O.M, Drew Archyle, and 2 more like this
Post by Peter Vaughn on Nov 30, 2021 10:53:02 GMT -5
~The picture slowly comes into focus, allowing us to see a dark, dingy sewer setting. The water is dribbling down the center of the tunnel, a disgusting mix of, well, it's better not speculating what's in that greenish fluid. The camera turns to the right, showing someone slowly walking through the pipe entrance. Peter Vaughn steps through, straining slightly at the weight around his shoulders. It appears to be a person, judging by the size and distribution, although there's no obvious movement. Vaughn walks on, trudging forward, as we begin to blur out again.~
I'm sure some of you are now wondering: what is Peter Vaughn doing in such a dark place, carrying an unconscious or dead body? Well, we'll get to that, don't you worry. It's a funny story, actually. You'll enjoy it.
But first, I want to talk about a monster. A boogeyman. A force of unnatural intensity. A man who can always reach the items on the top shelf in the grocery store. You've been called all these things and more, Supreme Machine. You have a reputation for destruction, which I have to admit, I admire. Who doesn't want to see bloodshed and violence when it comes to wrestling? Well, maybe less when it's your own. I'm sure I'm going to be 'donating to the blood bank' once again on Friday, SuMa. Being in a No Disqualification match with someone like you, it's pretty much guaranteed. But I hope you won't make the same mistake that so many others have made, assuming that just because your mother is a certified saint for pushing someone your size out her birthing canal, that means you're going to win.
You see, I'm no stranger to the hardcore life. I just beat the ever living hell out of Drew Archyle in the XWF, defeating him in a Broom Closet Brawl. He used a screwdriver on my forehead, gouging me. He smashed a glass bottle in my face. Honestly, it's amazing that I still have my dashing good looks after that one. But I still came out victorious. And you know why? Because I come into every contest with a winning strategy. For you, the strategy seems clear, both from what others have said and what's obvious: the secret to beating you is to take out those tree trunks you've got for legs. Hmmm, I wonder if they'd let me bring an actual axe to the ring. Probably not, so we'll have to keep that "tree trunk" analogy a little less literal.
But there will be plenty of other weapons for me to chop you down, SuMa. Agreeing to a No Disqualification match with me was not the most intelligent decision. Any item of violence I can find now, I can use. I can take Mike Knox's suggestion and stick you in a burning car. I could run you over with the car, come to think of it. Or even an eighteen-wheeler. And it would all be legal. As will be anyone else who happens to show up for the brawl. Do you have any other allies, SuMa? No, I believe you're mostly a Quasimodo who fights on its own, who doesn't need anyone else's help. Yeah. That can backfire spectacularly, you know. Especially this week.
~We cut to an earlier time, where we see the sign for the Dallas Police Department. The camera moves inside, taking us to the right, where we see Peter Vaughn currently talking with a police detective. What's going on? Well, you should probably listen and find out.~
Detective Brooks: Thank you again for coming in, Mr. Vaughn. From what I've been told, you've had a rough year so far family-wise.
Peter Vaughn: That would be an understatement, Detective Brooks. What with my father passing away earlier this year...
~A flashback overtakes us for a few seconds, showing Peter as he's standing on the edge of a cliff with his wheelchair-bound father, looking down into the dark depths of the lake far below. His father reaching out towards him...~
Peter Vaughn: And then finding out my mother was still alive, but only after I'm told she's missing...
~Another flashback, showing a terrified woman crawling away from Vaughn, begging for mercy from the son she left behind years before...~
Peter Vaughn: And now to find out my own life could be in danger because of her.
Detective Brooks: Again, I don't know that for sure. But the rumors have been strong enough that I thought you should be informed. Word on the street is that your mother had taken out some... questionable loans in the year before her disappearance. It seems likely to me that she took the money and ran, considering they're still searching for her. I don't know if she'll ever be found.
Peter Vaughn: It seems unlikely, doesn't it?
Detective Brooks: Yes, well... we can still hope, right?
~The detective looks questioningly towards Vaughn, who waits a second before nodding.~
Peter Vaughn: I may not forgive her for abandoning my father & I the way she did, but I would still like to meet her again someday.
Detective Brooks: Anyhow, the guys who gave her the loan, they're not the sort to just walk away when the money disappears. They're looking for someone to collect from. That's where you come in.
Peter Vaughn: So you think, because I'm a successful wrestler now, they're going to be sending their leg-breakers after me? They're more than welcome to try.
~Vaughn pats his side, where his completely legal firearm is holstered. After all, we're in Texas. If you're not packing, it looks strange.~
Detective Brooks: Well, it can never hurt to have a head's up, right? I just want to make sure you and your brother are careful in the coming months.
Peter Vaughn: I'm sure we'll... be... brother? What do you mean?
Detective Brooks: Your brother. Thomas. Well, I guess he'd be your half-brother, wouldn't he, ha ha... Mr. Vaughn?
~The detective's skills immediately help him realize that Vaughn had no idea he had another family member, as Vaughn has paled considerably. He leans against the nearby wall.~
Detective Brooks: I'm sorry, I really thought you knew...
Peter Vaughn: I... I have a brother?
~Vaughn rests his head against the wall for a moment, hiding his face from the confused detective. As Brooks turns to signal to a nearby officer to bring some water, we can see Vaughn's fist tightly clenched above his head. It's shaking.~
Ooooh, the drama!
Can you feel the tension building yet, SuMa? I certainly can. My main goal ever since leaving OCW has been to once again become a champion. The TPW International Title has stayed in my dreams ever since Marshall revealed it. It would look so damn good wrapped around my waist, something I could say about other things as well, but we'll leave that for another time. What matters, SuMa, is that I can't let your monstrous body odor & sausage-like fingers on those gigantic hands stop me from my ultimate achievement: becoming a multi-fed champion.
It's going to happen. I'm going to become the TPW International Champion, the XWF Universal Champion, and any others I choose to hold. The name Peter Vaughn will be up in the stars, alongside men like James Raven (#HailRaven), Alias, Xavier Lux, and more. The Exiles plan to have all the gold in TPW. If I have to spike your eyes to move on, I'll do it. If I have to use an industrial-strength wood chipper to be victorious, I'm not above it. I'll do... WHATEVER... it takes to get past you, Bizarro. Because everything is legal. Nothing is off the table. The table itself will probably be used. You get the idea.
The point is, nobody is unbeatable. Everyone has a weak point, be it their brains, their sloth-like speed, or their body's inability to function after too much blood is lost. I will find whatever weak points I have to, SuMa, in order to put you down. I will exploit them for all they're worth, until you're a mumbling, semi-conscious beast ready to be put to sleep. And it's not even going to be personal. I actually like you, and the chaos you bring to the ring. But when it comes to being in my path to the top, well, you're just going to have to take the Plunge just like everyone else.
~We find ourselves on a street corner of the city, seemingly near sunset, as the shadows are starting to take over the block. We appear to be looking over someone's shoulder as a man steps out of an apartment complex across the street. The man walks casually down the steps, tightening the jacket around his body. He's a handsome fella, but there's also something definitely familiar about him. The camera pulls back slightly, showing that Peter Vaughn is watching him.~
Peter Vaughn: I see you got blessed with the looks, Thomas. Of course you did.
~The man, Thomas, heads down the street, as Peter makes his move. He starts to hurry across, but he's not headed for his brother. Instead, he's going towards another man, who was just putting out a cigarette and beginning to pursue Thomas. The man has clearly been impatiently waiting for Thomas to show, as he reaches into his pocket for something.~
Peter Vaughn: Phil! Hey, Phil! What's up?
~This stops the thug in his tracks, as he removes his hand from his pocket and turns back to Vaughn.~
Thug: Who da hell is Phil? You've got the wrong damn...
~The dart flies, sticking into the side of the man's neck. He grasps at it in disbelief, stuttering as he starts towards Vaughn, but he only makes it a few feet before dropping. Vaughn looks down on him with a curious expression.~
Peter Vaughn: So the darts work on gorillas AND humans. Good to know. Glad I kept some for souvenirs.
~Vaughn leans over to start hauling the man up to his shoulders, not an easy proposition as Vaughn's not a musclebound freak like SuMa. He manages to get him up, though, and starts walking away in the opposite direction from where Thomas went.~
~The picture comes back into view from the thug's perspective, as we see him taking a few slaps to the face from Peter Vaughn. The man wakes up, as we stop with the "movie" camera work and just see things from the side. The thug looks around, at first furious, then showing a little more fear as he realizes that he must be underground. Vaughn smiles at him. It's not pleasant.~
Peter Vaughn: So you like the place? It used to be where an old friend of mine stayed. He called himself Xtreme. I don't exactly know what's happened to him, actually, but since he's not here, I thought we could use his digs, y'know? So... you work for the mysterious loan shark.
~This is not a question, it's a statement of fact, and the thug has no answer, anyway. Vaughn continues.~
Peter Vaughn: Here's the message I want you to take back to your boss. Thomas is no longer to be bothered by you dickless wonders anymore. He's protected. You want to go after someone who has money? I should obviously be the first choice, and hey, maybe I'll even pay you guys when you get to be too annoying. Maybe not.
~Vaughn has a knife in his hands now, twiddling it between his fingers. The thug is transfixed on it, looking like the terror is getting the best of him. It's probably best not to focus on what's dripping underneath the chair.~
Peter Vaughn: The point is that you... will... not... mess... with... my... family.
~With each space, Vaughn has cut away part of the thug's shirt, exposing his chest and ribs underneath. So far, no blood has been spilled, although from the tears coming from the thug's eyes, you'd expect something to have landed.~
Peter Vaughn: Thomas doesn't deserve this. But you... you just might. Either way, I want to be able to send the full message, don't I?
Thug: It was just a job! Please man! I'll leave him alone!
Peter Vaughn: I know you will. I just need to make sure your boss knows as well.
~The camera pans away, not showing us anymore, as the thug keeps sputtering, begging for his life. Will he keep it? It's certainly possible. There's no proof that Peter Vaughn is a murderer, after all. As far as we know. The picture slowly fades out.~
