Brass Dysfunction

The scene cuts to the Bitter Siblings in the Walker Family training room. Lance is training Vincent, whilst Terra and Allen watch from outside of the ring.

Terra: So, I win my debut match, but it's you that gets a chance at the TV Title? What kind of bollocks is Spencer on?

Allen: Well, I basically forced this upon him, after Jack and I had some words on social media. You should try it sometime. It's quite fun.

Terra: I'd rather not whine and complain my way to a title win. Unlike you, I actually want to earn my championships.

Allen: Suit yourself.

Lance trips up Vince and scoops him up for a pin attempt. He grabs hold of his tights for leverage.

Lance: 1, 2, 3, and you lose again, Vinny. Come on now. You can do better than that!

Vincent: That's not fair! You grabbed my tights.

Lance: Not everyone plays fair, Vinny! Either work your way around it, or stoop to their level. Now come on, you donut. Again.

Lance and Vince lock up as the Bitter Siblings continue to converse.

Terra: So who's your opponent again?

Allen: Just some jobber named Jimmy. His nickname has something to do with rambling. Which he won't get to do much of once he gets a taste of a brass knuckle sandwich to the jaw.

Vincent: My hand was on the rope!

Lance: Doesn't matter. I didn't see it. If the ref doesn't see it, then it doesn't count. Again!

Terra: Sounds like a cake walk. Though I'm not sure it'll be the same once you actually face the Television Champion. Depending on who wins at Killing Floor.

Allen: Oh please. It's between a former gay pornstar and a luchador that came back for another 15 minutes of fame. Neither of them are on my level.

Terra: Do you think your friend Jack is going to retain the title?

Lance: Eyes everywhere, Vinny. Like a graceful halibut.

Vincent: Egh…

Allen: He's not my friend. I didn't join UCI to make friends. Whether he retains or not is irrelevant. I'm going to win either way, and I'm going to face him either way as well. Just so I can “crack” his armor of self righteousness.

Terra: Bloody hell, this is a battle of who has the biggest ego…

Lance: Again!

Vincent: I know, I know...

Allen: And I guarantee you that I'll win.

Terra: Yes, because that's something to be proud of…

Lance: Again, Vince.

Allen: Oi, oi. Hold on just a moment.

Allen gets in the ring, eyeing his brother Vince.

Allen: You ok with reffing, pops?

Lance: This isn't what Vince agreed to, Allen.

Vincent: No, dad. It's okay.

Lance: … Alright, fine. Terra, hand me a ref shirt.

Terra goes to the ringside table and grabs a ref shirt. She tosses it over to her father.

Terra: This is a bad idea, guys. You know how Allen and I get when we're in the squared circle.

Vincent: This is the type of situation I have to prepare myself for, is it not?

Allen: Just ring the damn bell, Terra.

*DING DING DING*

Allen sticks his hand out to gesture a test of strength. Once Vince accepts, he receives a kick to the gut by Allen. Allen, however, doesn't let go of Vincent's hand.

Allen: Oh, come on, little Vinny. Know your opponent. Even if I were to have a test of strength against you, I would've won, due to my size advantage. This is just much quicker, and much more fun.

Terra: Allen, don't.

Allen: Piss off.

Allen wrenches his brother's wrist and arm backwards, bending him backwards.

Lance: Allen. You've made your point. Let go of him.

Vincent: Agh… is… is that all you have?

Allen smirks at his stubborn brother. He pushes his chin up, forcing his head to touch the mat. He pushes his free hand to the mat with his boot and then quickly stomps on it, finally letting Vince free afterwards.

Lance: Allen, what do you think you're doing!?

Allen: Making a statement! It was game over as soon as you grabbed my hand, Vinny. Let's see how well you recover.

Vincent grunts a bit as he slowly staggers over to his feet, using the ropes to help him up.

Vincent: I'm… I'm ok.

Vince puts his arms up in a fighting position.

Vincent: I can persevere.

Allen laughs maniacally before gesturing Vince to come at him. Vince charges, only to be met by Allen grabbing his nose. Vince grasps for air.

Lance: That's your brother, you lettuce filled donkey!

Allen ignores Lance, but let's go of Vince's nose, mocking him with a “Got Your Nose!” gesture. Vince falls for this and goes for a clothesline. Allen ducks, and hits a curiously hard sucker punch. Vince is lying on the mat, knocked out from the punch.

Lance: Have you gone mad!? You hit your own brother with brass knuckles!?

Allen: That's the name of the game, pops. Did you get all of that, Terra?

He points at Terra, who's holding up her smartphone horizontally.

Terra: Yeah, but don't ask me to be happy about it.

Allen grabs his unconscious brother by the strap of his singlet. Lance is irate at this point.

Lance: That's your brother, Alle-

Allen: Shut up and let me speak!

Lance grits his teeth and steps back a bit.

Allen: This is a message to all of UCI. This is just a small taste of what happens when you put me up against lesser talent. People that don't deserve to be within the same ring as me. This? This was after one single brass knuckle jab to my own brother.

He points to Vince’s bruising, bloody face with a smirk.

Allen: Just imagine when I have two brass knuckles that I get to use as I damn well please? To someone I don't give a bloody damn about, no less. Here's a spoiler… our good friend Ramblin’ Jimmy is going to have to retire after I’ve beaten him to a bloody pulp. Everyone wants to root for a jobber, simply because they don't like me. They don't like what I have to say, and they don't like my methods. Well I don't give a goddamn what any of you think. I've arrived to UCI to make everyone in that locker room my bitch! First, Good ol’ Jimmy, then I'll take out both Payaso and Jacky Boy as well. One by one, I'll take out anyone I damn well please. Everyone wants to act like I just do whatever this old sob next to me wants…

Lance takes offense to that, and steps towards his son. Allen throws Vince at him to throw him off. Lance puts Vince down and goes after Allen, only to be met with a brass knuckle.

Terra: Allen, what the fuck was that!?

Allen: I'm the damn Bitter King! I'm the god of wrestling! I will not be made to look like a fool any longer! UCI… you've been warned.

Allen looks down at his knocked out family members and smirks. Terra stops the recording and goes in the ring to tend to them.

Terra: What the hell, Allen!? You really have gone mad, haven't you?

Allen: They'll be alright. Jimmy, however, will be another story.

Allen rolls out of the ring and takes the phone that Terra recorded the footage with.

Allen: You want to be taken seriously, Terra? You have to go through drastic measures. Family be damned. If you can even call them that.

Allen walks off, leaving Terra alone to help her family members.