Post by Michael on Jul 17, 2016 13:22:39 GMT -6
“Are you sure this is a good idea boss? They barely let our scouts leave alive. They told us not to come back.”
The scene opens up in almost complete darkness, the little bit of light that can be seen is from a nearby set of torches. The facial features of UCI’s Michael can just faintly be made out as he lowers a set of binoculars. How well those binoculars work in the darkness remains to be seen. He turns to a man standing beside him, a rifle slung over his shoulder. A man who carries himself like a solider, with a look of determination giving him away as the man who just spoke.
Michael turns and looks back towards the direction he was looking as the camera moves around behind him, showing a brightly lit location out in the distance. Even from this distance, mainly due to the light, we can just make out that it’s the ruins of a city. This city is far more lit up than the Ruins of New York City have appeared to be. Michael finally speaks.
“We’ve come this far, Josh. Look at it. We can’t just drive all the way out here, find out that Chicago really exists and then go back home,” Michael says.
“What if they were not bluffing though? We could walk in there and be slaughtered. Where would the people back in the Harbor be without us?” Josh asks.
Michael puts a hand on Josh’s shoulder and looks him directly in the eyes.
“Look, I know these past few years have been all about survival and doing what will keep us alive, but I have so many questions and I believe Chicago has the answers,” Michael answers.
Josh starts to say something, but then sighs, before finally responding.
“You really think you’re going to find some place here called UCI?” asks Josh.
Michael takes his hand off Josh’s shoulder and shrugs.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Michael says.
Michael walks over a couple of feet and looks down, revealing them to be on top of a cliff. Far down below, campfires can be seen on the other side of the cliff from the city. A bunch of bikes and several trucks and a big van are pulled off to the side of a dirt road. Michael puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles real loud. A whistle is returned from someone below. One by one the fires go out. Michael turns and signals to Josh and a couple of other men who appear nearby, also carrying rifles over their shoulders. The other two men grab torches and the four men start walking down a path as the area below goes from silence to the sound of engines revving up.
The camera switches back to the top of the cliff, looking towards the direction of the city as words crawl across the bottom left portion of the screen:
2946 PA
Ruins of Chicago
Outskirts
The scene switches to a short time later. The road is bathed in the headlights of a dozen bikes, 3 trucks, and the big van in the center. The view goes to inside the van where we see a random man in the driver’s seat and Michael in the passenger’s seat. The occupants in the van sway back and forth as the van fails to miss most of the potholes in the dilapidated road, a condition expected after nearly a decade of neglect. The driver glances at Michael.
“So, homes, you think this means that Chicago wasn’t hit by a nuke? Wouldn’t it be gone and destroyed like some of the other cities we’ve heard about? Or is it lit up like this because of radiation?” the man asks.
“I’m not sure, Javier. I don’t think this is lit up by radiation though. This looks like electricity although I’m not sure how that’s even possible,” Michael responds.
“Did the scouts say if the men were mutated or look like they had been radiated?” Javier asks.
Michael shakes his head no.
“No, they didn’t notice any physical deformities, but they did say the men were psychotic. They don’t know how or why they were let go,” Michael says.
The two men go back to silence as the convoy grows ever closer to the city. A few minutes later, one of the lead bikes hits his brakes as do several others. The whole convoy of vehicles slows down to a halt. Michael squints over the light of the headlights as he looks towards one of the lead bikes. The biker gets off of his bike and walks forward. A couple of vehicles can be seen just outside the headlights. The biker walks back to the other bikes with him and says something. They get off their bikes as well and hurry towards the wreckage. The lead biker walks back and says something to one of the people in the truck before jogging up to the van, on the passenger side. Michael leans out the window as the man walks up.
“Sir, there’s a couple of cars down the road. We’re getting them off the road so we can keep goin—“ says the man but he stops as he is cut off when someone yells something from the front. The man at Michael’s door turns and yells back up front.
“There’s what?” he asks.
One of the men at the cars yells back but Michael can’t catch the words clearly enough. He turns to the man at his door who has a confused look on his face as he looks back at Michael.
“He says there’s bodies in the cars. It looks like they were traveling here, but why would the---“
The man is cut off mid-sentence as his head explodes followed by the echo of a rifle shot from out in the darkness. Michael jumps as blood and brain matter splash him and the seat he’s sitting on. Suddenly the bikes, trucks and van are drowned in light as headlights light up on both sides of the vehicles. Michael covers his eyes, blinded by all the headlights.
Rifles are unslung from the shoulders of their owners but it does no good as each of the headlights on both sides hide shooters and bullets start flying. Javier grabs Michael before he can react and shoves him toward the back of the van. Their van is armored but the pair still jump as the sound of bullets pinging and denting the van itself can be heard outside. The two trucks each had a gun mounted on the back, but no one was manning them nor were they apparently able to be as the sound of them is never heard.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, but yet what seemed like hours, the gunfire stops and muffled shouting can be heard. Countless sets of footsteps can be heard in the area and the occasional firing of a rifle. Eventually, several sets of footsteps can be heard right outside the van. Javier gulps loudly and Michael lays there, his eyes wide as they hear the back door of the van being pulled open. The headlights from the bikes behind them blinds Michael and Javier, keeping them from seeing who is standing there. A gruff-sounding voice finally breaks the silence.
“Which one of you is the leader?” the voice asks.
Javier does not hesitate as he pulls a revolver out of his pocket. Before he is able to aim it, a loud crack is heard from a pistol coming from the light and Javier slumps back to the floor of the van.
“Well, I guess that answers it,” the voice says.
Michael’s world goes black as he passes out.
Sometime later, Michael comes to, but he can see nothing. Not because it’s dark, but because he has a blindfold on. He moves his hands, but to no avail as he feels the chains wrapped tightly around them. He hears people screaming and yelling all around him as rock music blasts out in the distance from loudspeakers. Guttural screams and cheers are also heard around him as he is lead up some kind of path. Despite the blindfold, the light in the area is so bright that he can partially see through it, just barely making out figures in front of him and to his sides. He tries to look behind him but is shoved forward and looks back up front as he tries to keep his balance.
A short while later, Michael sees less and less silhouettes around him, yet the cheers are louder than before. The ground goes from gravel and cement to a combination of grass and dirt underneath Michael’s feet. Suddenly a hand reaches out and grabs the chains around his hands and stops him from moving anymore.
“Take the blindfold off,” a voice says behind him.
Another hand reaches up and yanks the blindfold off. Light floods Michael’s eyes and he squints and blinks, rubbing at them with one of his hands, which are still chained together. Michael is standing in the middle of a giant sports stadium. His eyes stop on the billboard. It’s for a college. University of Chicago, only all the letters are not lit up. The only letters lit up are the U, C, and I.
“Welcome to UCI, Michael,” the voice says.
Michael turns around quickly, a mixed look of surprise and confusion on his face at someone here knowing his name. He turns and looks right at a man he never expected to see here. Michael backs up a few steps as he looks even more confused, as he is standing just mere feet away from “The Mayor” David Sanchez. Not the normal Sanchez that is seen on Overload or in the past in wrestling, but a slightly more deranged, psychotic looking Sanchez.
“S-S-Sanchez?!?” Michael exclaims in surprise.
Michael is floored as a heavy hand decks him on the side of the head, sending him sprawling. Spots enter his vision as he shakes his head, but continues laying there as David Sanchez smacks the man who hit him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid oaf?” Sanchez says, eyes wide.
The man slinks away out of range of David Sanchez, not answering the obviously rhetorical question. David Sanchez turns back to Michael, his arms spread wide, gesturing to the arena they are inside of.
“Sorry about that, Michael. You see there are cer----“
Michael doesn’t hear the rest as he finally blacks out once more, this time to a combination of both the pain from the blow as well as the obvious mind fuck of a moment he has just experienced.
====================
“Bro, these memes are hilarious! Check this one out!”
The scene opens up with Michael and David seated at a table backstage in the Value City Arena in Columbus, Ohio, site of this week’s Overload. David has a cell phone in his hand and he tilts it towards Michael, who looks like he has just woken up. David is showing him an image on the screen of Madea talking about Pokemon. David’s grin fades when he sees Michael shrugging.
“I don’t get these me-mes. Who is she and what is a pokerman? Are those the things everyone is chasing around all the time on their phones?” Michael asks with a look of confusion on his face.
“No, it’s memes, not me-mes, and it’s Pokemon. How can you not know about this?” David asks, confused.
Michael waves his arms around as he responds.
“Hello? Post Apocalyptic guy? No cell phones or Pokemon in my world,” Michael says matter-of-factly.
“Oh yeah, duh, bro. I keep forgetting about that,” David responds.
“So why are we looking at Pokemon and memes anyway, what does this have to do with tonight?” Michael asks.
David puts the phone down and turns to Michael.
“Dude, bro, it’s all about your opponent. You gotta get inside his head. You gotta get in his world, man. He’s one of those leet haxor gamer dudes and shit,” David explains.
“Leet what? This is so confusing! Why can’t someone be from a post-apocalyptic world or be a Violare?” Michael asks, confused.
“A Vio-what?” David looks at Michael, both giving each other confused looks. David turns back to his phone finally while Michael stands up and starts walking down the hall. He looks at the camera.
“So against the wishes and advice of some of my friends here, mainly David, I took a break last week and told the management not to book me. David told me it was a bad idea because of the momentum I’m on. My win streak continued once again. I now possess wins over David Sanchez, the current Rising Stars champion, Alex Richards, Kyle Kemp, and as of my last match…Jay Omega. Anyone who still doubts me and whether or not I can compete here in UCI should be slowly starting to lose the doubts they once had.
This week I’m up against another guy with only a first name: Luke. Luke, the Plagueson of Nurgle. I’m not even sure what either of those things are, nor do I know who Luke even is. With the help of David and this Internet thing, I have done some research on the history of Luke. No, not Luke of UCI, but the history of Lukes in general. Luke of Biblical fame. The companion of Paul, one of the four Gospels of the Bible. Luke Skywalker, one of the most famous Jedi to ever live. Luke, Cool Hand Luke, some guy that was a famous prisoner. Then there’s apparently some Carolina Panther football player named Luke as well, but Luke of UCI. Luke of e-wrestling, when I look you up, I find nothing of importance. Honestly, I find nothing on you at all.
Ordinary men would look at this as an easy win, an easy opportunity. They would look at this as a guaranteed win and not even prepare for the match. They wouldn’t even give it a second thought, but then again as we’ve seen during my UCI career thus far, that isn’t always the wisest choice. Ask the current Rising Stars champion, David Sanchez, how smart it is to dismiss a newcomer, someone who can’t be easily searched on the Internet. What happened to him when he underestimated me?”
Michael spreads his arms, grinning.
“He lost. So Mr. Plagueson of Nurgle. Mr. Dirty Dick Death Machine, don’t expect the same level of dismissal from me. I want to continue this momentum, this win streak I am on. I want to ride the wave of momentum all the way to Beachmania when I get a title shot at either the TV title or the Rising Stars championship. The way to accomplish that seems to be through you, Luke. A man from Biblical times, a famous prisoner, a famous football player, a famous Jedi, the Plagueson of Nurgle, it won’t matter which Luke walks down that aisle when your music hits. I, Michael, will once again continue on here in UCI victorious."
The scene fades to black.
The scene opens up in almost complete darkness, the little bit of light that can be seen is from a nearby set of torches. The facial features of UCI’s Michael can just faintly be made out as he lowers a set of binoculars. How well those binoculars work in the darkness remains to be seen. He turns to a man standing beside him, a rifle slung over his shoulder. A man who carries himself like a solider, with a look of determination giving him away as the man who just spoke.
Michael turns and looks back towards the direction he was looking as the camera moves around behind him, showing a brightly lit location out in the distance. Even from this distance, mainly due to the light, we can just make out that it’s the ruins of a city. This city is far more lit up than the Ruins of New York City have appeared to be. Michael finally speaks.
“We’ve come this far, Josh. Look at it. We can’t just drive all the way out here, find out that Chicago really exists and then go back home,” Michael says.
“What if they were not bluffing though? We could walk in there and be slaughtered. Where would the people back in the Harbor be without us?” Josh asks.
Michael puts a hand on Josh’s shoulder and looks him directly in the eyes.
“Look, I know these past few years have been all about survival and doing what will keep us alive, but I have so many questions and I believe Chicago has the answers,” Michael answers.
Josh starts to say something, but then sighs, before finally responding.
“You really think you’re going to find some place here called UCI?” asks Josh.
Michael takes his hand off Josh’s shoulder and shrugs.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Michael says.
Michael walks over a couple of feet and looks down, revealing them to be on top of a cliff. Far down below, campfires can be seen on the other side of the cliff from the city. A bunch of bikes and several trucks and a big van are pulled off to the side of a dirt road. Michael puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles real loud. A whistle is returned from someone below. One by one the fires go out. Michael turns and signals to Josh and a couple of other men who appear nearby, also carrying rifles over their shoulders. The other two men grab torches and the four men start walking down a path as the area below goes from silence to the sound of engines revving up.
The camera switches back to the top of the cliff, looking towards the direction of the city as words crawl across the bottom left portion of the screen:
2946 PA
Ruins of Chicago
Outskirts
The scene switches to a short time later. The road is bathed in the headlights of a dozen bikes, 3 trucks, and the big van in the center. The view goes to inside the van where we see a random man in the driver’s seat and Michael in the passenger’s seat. The occupants in the van sway back and forth as the van fails to miss most of the potholes in the dilapidated road, a condition expected after nearly a decade of neglect. The driver glances at Michael.
“So, homes, you think this means that Chicago wasn’t hit by a nuke? Wouldn’t it be gone and destroyed like some of the other cities we’ve heard about? Or is it lit up like this because of radiation?” the man asks.
“I’m not sure, Javier. I don’t think this is lit up by radiation though. This looks like electricity although I’m not sure how that’s even possible,” Michael responds.
“Did the scouts say if the men were mutated or look like they had been radiated?” Javier asks.
Michael shakes his head no.
“No, they didn’t notice any physical deformities, but they did say the men were psychotic. They don’t know how or why they were let go,” Michael says.
The two men go back to silence as the convoy grows ever closer to the city. A few minutes later, one of the lead bikes hits his brakes as do several others. The whole convoy of vehicles slows down to a halt. Michael squints over the light of the headlights as he looks towards one of the lead bikes. The biker gets off of his bike and walks forward. A couple of vehicles can be seen just outside the headlights. The biker walks back to the other bikes with him and says something. They get off their bikes as well and hurry towards the wreckage. The lead biker walks back and says something to one of the people in the truck before jogging up to the van, on the passenger side. Michael leans out the window as the man walks up.
“Sir, there’s a couple of cars down the road. We’re getting them off the road so we can keep goin—“ says the man but he stops as he is cut off when someone yells something from the front. The man at Michael’s door turns and yells back up front.
“There’s what?” he asks.
One of the men at the cars yells back but Michael can’t catch the words clearly enough. He turns to the man at his door who has a confused look on his face as he looks back at Michael.
“He says there’s bodies in the cars. It looks like they were traveling here, but why would the---“
The man is cut off mid-sentence as his head explodes followed by the echo of a rifle shot from out in the darkness. Michael jumps as blood and brain matter splash him and the seat he’s sitting on. Suddenly the bikes, trucks and van are drowned in light as headlights light up on both sides of the vehicles. Michael covers his eyes, blinded by all the headlights.
Rifles are unslung from the shoulders of their owners but it does no good as each of the headlights on both sides hide shooters and bullets start flying. Javier grabs Michael before he can react and shoves him toward the back of the van. Their van is armored but the pair still jump as the sound of bullets pinging and denting the van itself can be heard outside. The two trucks each had a gun mounted on the back, but no one was manning them nor were they apparently able to be as the sound of them is never heard.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, but yet what seemed like hours, the gunfire stops and muffled shouting can be heard. Countless sets of footsteps can be heard in the area and the occasional firing of a rifle. Eventually, several sets of footsteps can be heard right outside the van. Javier gulps loudly and Michael lays there, his eyes wide as they hear the back door of the van being pulled open. The headlights from the bikes behind them blinds Michael and Javier, keeping them from seeing who is standing there. A gruff-sounding voice finally breaks the silence.
“Which one of you is the leader?” the voice asks.
Javier does not hesitate as he pulls a revolver out of his pocket. Before he is able to aim it, a loud crack is heard from a pistol coming from the light and Javier slumps back to the floor of the van.
“Well, I guess that answers it,” the voice says.
Michael’s world goes black as he passes out.
Sometime later, Michael comes to, but he can see nothing. Not because it’s dark, but because he has a blindfold on. He moves his hands, but to no avail as he feels the chains wrapped tightly around them. He hears people screaming and yelling all around him as rock music blasts out in the distance from loudspeakers. Guttural screams and cheers are also heard around him as he is lead up some kind of path. Despite the blindfold, the light in the area is so bright that he can partially see through it, just barely making out figures in front of him and to his sides. He tries to look behind him but is shoved forward and looks back up front as he tries to keep his balance.
A short while later, Michael sees less and less silhouettes around him, yet the cheers are louder than before. The ground goes from gravel and cement to a combination of grass and dirt underneath Michael’s feet. Suddenly a hand reaches out and grabs the chains around his hands and stops him from moving anymore.
“Take the blindfold off,” a voice says behind him.
Another hand reaches up and yanks the blindfold off. Light floods Michael’s eyes and he squints and blinks, rubbing at them with one of his hands, which are still chained together. Michael is standing in the middle of a giant sports stadium. His eyes stop on the billboard. It’s for a college. University of Chicago, only all the letters are not lit up. The only letters lit up are the U, C, and I.
“Welcome to UCI, Michael,” the voice says.
Michael turns around quickly, a mixed look of surprise and confusion on his face at someone here knowing his name. He turns and looks right at a man he never expected to see here. Michael backs up a few steps as he looks even more confused, as he is standing just mere feet away from “The Mayor” David Sanchez. Not the normal Sanchez that is seen on Overload or in the past in wrestling, but a slightly more deranged, psychotic looking Sanchez.
“S-S-Sanchez?!?” Michael exclaims in surprise.
Michael is floored as a heavy hand decks him on the side of the head, sending him sprawling. Spots enter his vision as he shakes his head, but continues laying there as David Sanchez smacks the man who hit him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid oaf?” Sanchez says, eyes wide.
The man slinks away out of range of David Sanchez, not answering the obviously rhetorical question. David Sanchez turns back to Michael, his arms spread wide, gesturing to the arena they are inside of.
“Sorry about that, Michael. You see there are cer----“
Michael doesn’t hear the rest as he finally blacks out once more, this time to a combination of both the pain from the blow as well as the obvious mind fuck of a moment he has just experienced.
====================
“Bro, these memes are hilarious! Check this one out!”
The scene opens up with Michael and David seated at a table backstage in the Value City Arena in Columbus, Ohio, site of this week’s Overload. David has a cell phone in his hand and he tilts it towards Michael, who looks like he has just woken up. David is showing him an image on the screen of Madea talking about Pokemon. David’s grin fades when he sees Michael shrugging.
“I don’t get these me-mes. Who is she and what is a pokerman? Are those the things everyone is chasing around all the time on their phones?” Michael asks with a look of confusion on his face.
“No, it’s memes, not me-mes, and it’s Pokemon. How can you not know about this?” David asks, confused.
Michael waves his arms around as he responds.
“Hello? Post Apocalyptic guy? No cell phones or Pokemon in my world,” Michael says matter-of-factly.
“Oh yeah, duh, bro. I keep forgetting about that,” David responds.
“So why are we looking at Pokemon and memes anyway, what does this have to do with tonight?” Michael asks.
David puts the phone down and turns to Michael.
“Dude, bro, it’s all about your opponent. You gotta get inside his head. You gotta get in his world, man. He’s one of those leet haxor gamer dudes and shit,” David explains.
“Leet what? This is so confusing! Why can’t someone be from a post-apocalyptic world or be a Violare?” Michael asks, confused.
“A Vio-what?” David looks at Michael, both giving each other confused looks. David turns back to his phone finally while Michael stands up and starts walking down the hall. He looks at the camera.
“So against the wishes and advice of some of my friends here, mainly David, I took a break last week and told the management not to book me. David told me it was a bad idea because of the momentum I’m on. My win streak continued once again. I now possess wins over David Sanchez, the current Rising Stars champion, Alex Richards, Kyle Kemp, and as of my last match…Jay Omega. Anyone who still doubts me and whether or not I can compete here in UCI should be slowly starting to lose the doubts they once had.
This week I’m up against another guy with only a first name: Luke. Luke, the Plagueson of Nurgle. I’m not even sure what either of those things are, nor do I know who Luke even is. With the help of David and this Internet thing, I have done some research on the history of Luke. No, not Luke of UCI, but the history of Lukes in general. Luke of Biblical fame. The companion of Paul, one of the four Gospels of the Bible. Luke Skywalker, one of the most famous Jedi to ever live. Luke, Cool Hand Luke, some guy that was a famous prisoner. Then there’s apparently some Carolina Panther football player named Luke as well, but Luke of UCI. Luke of e-wrestling, when I look you up, I find nothing of importance. Honestly, I find nothing on you at all.
Ordinary men would look at this as an easy win, an easy opportunity. They would look at this as a guaranteed win and not even prepare for the match. They wouldn’t even give it a second thought, but then again as we’ve seen during my UCI career thus far, that isn’t always the wisest choice. Ask the current Rising Stars champion, David Sanchez, how smart it is to dismiss a newcomer, someone who can’t be easily searched on the Internet. What happened to him when he underestimated me?”
Michael spreads his arms, grinning.
“He lost. So Mr. Plagueson of Nurgle. Mr. Dirty Dick Death Machine, don’t expect the same level of dismissal from me. I want to continue this momentum, this win streak I am on. I want to ride the wave of momentum all the way to Beachmania when I get a title shot at either the TV title or the Rising Stars championship. The way to accomplish that seems to be through you, Luke. A man from Biblical times, a famous prisoner, a famous football player, a famous Jedi, the Plagueson of Nurgle, it won’t matter which Luke walks down that aisle when your music hits. I, Michael, will once again continue on here in UCI victorious."
The scene fades to black.
