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Posts : 2467
Join date : 2010-10-09
Location : London, England

PostSubject: CXA REUNION SHOW - PART 5   Fri Apr 01, 2011 1:11 pm

The scene cuts to the area of the O2 complex outside of the main arena, to the newly opened KFC restaurant in the covered Entertainment Avenue area no less! A bruised David Erin is sat at a table rubbing his head. Erin watches people from the window walking around outside in the main arena corridor. As he looks down to admire his Endurance trophy, an old man in a suit approaches KFC and enters through the door.

Bat-sense tingling, David Erin looks up.

"Jeeves! Why are you here?"

"Ha! I got a bit lost on my way to the gents. Kind of glad I did!"

David Erin tries to get up but Jeeves is on him fast. He pummels Erin with hard shots causing Erin to cover up. Jeeves yanks the trophy from Erin's resisting hands, snapping one of the handles, and then beats Erin around the back of the head a few times with it until he's motionless.

Jeeves then looks around.

"Right, now which way back to my seat?"

He turns and walks off.

We move to a shot of a backstage corridor, and immediately a shot of a man in jeans walking through it. The camera slowly pans up to reveal Rob Arnold, wearing a red shirt underneath a black pinstripe jacket. He walks down looking contented yet assured ready of his match later with My-Ron Novaar, allowing for a small smile to hit the corner of his mouth.

As he approaches the end however, he stops still. The smile fades and his complexion quickly becomes a frown. Arnold looks from left to right slowly, as if he were to cross a road, before looking up towards the ceiling. It was as if he could sense something, or somebody. Finally, with a look of displeasure, he opens his mouth.

“I know you’re here, Reaper.” He utters in a low growl. “You haven’t lost your flair for the dramatic, have you?”

Arnold turns slowly and waits. From a crevice to his right there is a slow bit of movement, which soon emerges from the darkness as The Reaper, David Shand. Shand is wearing a hand tailored black suit that cost more than some of the ring technicians made in a year, and a blue shirt open at the collar. His black leather shoes shine in the garish light, and his eyes are covered in a pair of sunglasses. He slowly reaches up to removes these, casting a perhaps sarcastic “I’m impressed” look in Rob’s direction as he comes out to face him, stopping about five feet short of where Arnold is standing.

Rob’s expression is fairly unchanged, he doesn’t look pleased to see Shand at all, not that he ever is. The last time he saw Shand was five years ago in Manhattan, when he was deceived into believing the Reaper was crippled. Rob resented this to start with, as at the time he thought he had broken ground with Shand, the reality was he hadn’t, which made their anger and distaste for each other grow.

Shand however, doesn’t seem particularly bothered either way. Despite his harsh words about Arnold just a while ago at the press conference, he shows no sign of aggression. Of course, things have moved on since then, but even so, his expression gives nothing away. For a man just a couple of hours away from a 90 minute match, he seems remarkably relaxed.

“Either you’re losing you’re touch, or I’m getting better at this.” Rob opens with.

“And how would you have me respond, Robert. I’ll give you the credit that you’re getting better at this to inflate your ego, shall I?” Retorts Shand.

“So David, tell me,” begins Rob, ignoring the jibe, “do you still crave on me fearing you? Or are you over that?” Rob sarcastically quips.

Shand allows himself a small laugh “Well that depends, are you still frightened?” Shand smirks.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, not for me anymore.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve said that before,” Shand responds cuttingly.

“This isn’t 2006, David.” Rob has made a point of not moving an inch.

“You’re quite right Rob, it isn’t, however if it was, I might actually have given you a better chance of beating My-Ron.”

“Oh David please, you’re appeasing him?” Alluding to the fact he calls him “My-Ron” rather than “Myron”.

“Robert, you are smarter than that. Surely you realise I always have. It’s been more fun that way. Letting him think he’s in control of things whilst pulling the strings ever tighter.”

They both chuckle at this.

“Yes well it doesn’t matter to you really, does it?” Rob comments “I’ve heard very well of what you’ve been up to, I’m impressed.”

“Well…” Before Shand can continue Rob cuts him off.

“I mean, if there was ever a moment of action that proved me right, well thank you David.” Rob smirks. “I mean, look at you, and then look back at me, they say actions speak louder than words, and look at that, you did exactly to your brother as I would have.”

“Now Now Robert” responds Shand, still keeping his tone tending toward amused sarcasm “You don’t have the knowledge to comment on that situation. In fact, I go further, you don’t have the right”.

“I never do, but why let it stop me?” Arnold continues the cocky offensive.

Shand consider this for a moment “Hmm, I wonder, is it your life goal to make me want to ruin your life?” Shand retorts.

“I’ll repeat, this isn’t 2006, I don’t buy into your headgames so much any more, mainly because I’ve become much more like you, you’re not the only family man that dabbles in business.”

“Oh, so you’re copying me once again?” Shand stifles a laugh.

“You’d like to have your personal homage, I know, but you know damn well it’s called making a living.”

Shand’s can barely contain his smile “Yes, but that’s all it is, isn’t it? A living. A middle management position - tell me, how many years do you have to do and how many dozen Manchester United shirts do you have to sell before the company car gets upgraded from a Focus to a 3 series?”

“Cheap joke, David”

“Cheap job, Robert. Don’t compare yourself to me - either in the business world or the professional wrestling one. In either measure...” Shand pauses and holds up his hand to indicate the size difference between them “You come up a little bit short”

“As much as I hate Novaar, he was right about you.”

“Myron Fox hasn’t been right about anything to do with me for 15 years and he isn’t about to have some epiphany now. He knows nothing, and he’s being played now just like he’s always been. You honestly think I didn’t anticipate news getting back to him of my meeting with Matthew. Its all part of a bigger game. Fox is just a pawn”

Rob think about this for a second. He’d like to ask more, but doesn’t want to give Shand the satisfaction of knowing he has piqued his interest. Instead, he changes tack.

“So David, do you think you can beat Chio?”

“Robert, you really don’t need to ask. Look, I know Chris is your friend. I’m not going to stand here and rubbish him. I took this match because I know how good he can be. If he comes ready tonight, it will be a good match. But he can’t win. Now, enough about my match. I’m assuming you think you’ll walk all over My-Ron tonight, your lack of respect has shown that.”

“Lack of respect?” Rob looks genuinely offended. “Oh David, this is where you never understand me. Tell me, when did I ever say I didn’t respect him? Sure, I never said I did respect him, but when have I ever given anybody verbal respect?”

Shand raises an eyebrow and Rob goes on.

“Look, I respect the majority of people I get in the ring with, I may not ever say, but I do. We both know that you don’t have to like somebody to respect somebody.”

Rob takes a step towards Shand, somewhat deliberately.

“ I mean, I damn near hate you, but I respect you. I’d like to think it’s the same back…”

There’s a deliberate pause, and Rob slowly, very slowly raises his hand to the Reaper in offer of a handshake.

Shand looks down and then back at Arnold, before slowly accepting the handshake.

“Good luck tonight David, I know Chris. You’ll need it.” Says Arnold.

A wolfish smile crosses Shand’s face “Yes, and I know My-ron far better. I know how pissed off he is right now. So will you, Arnold.” Responds Shand

Both look to let go, but change their mind.

“Just so we’re clear. Don’t think that this changes a damn thing though Reaper.” Sneers Rob.

Shand shakes his head

“Oh I wouldn’t for a moment - seeing you brood like a twelve year old each time gives me enough to smile about for weeks, don’t stop doing that.”

With that, both smirk, and go opposite ways.

[CXA Production Note: At this point in proceedings, the live crowd was treated to the Women’s cage match. However, a technical fault prevents us bringing you this match now on the PPV broadcast. All those who ordered the PPV will be able to see this match in its entirety at a later date free of charge, and as a token of goodwill, will also receive a CXA Reunion t-shirt, and Mike Rocket action figure.]

As the cage slowly rises back to the ceiling, the cameras switch to a shot of the door of the gents, of all things! The door opens and Jeeves, the Hardcore Butler, steps out. He is still carrying the battered lump of silver that is the 24/7 Endurance trophy. He looks to the right for potential attackers, but unfortunately for him, one pops up from his left. It's Hard Fucking Core! After time to recuperate from the previous beating he took earlier, HFC looks in way better condition. Brandishing a chair, he swings it and wraps it around Jeeves’ head as he turns around. The Hardcore Butler crumples to the floor.

"Regret having a piss now don't you, old man!?"

HFC stamps on Jeeves a few times.

"Beat up my mate will you? Asshole!"

HFC finishes putting the boots in and his eye catches the Endurance trophy.

"So this is this infamous trophy!" he comments sarcastically “Well worth £25,000 of anyone’s money!”

He scoops it up in his hand and inspects the mangled, crushed, bent, blood-splattered "trophy" and walks off carrying it.

We go back to ringside

I'm not climbing to the top of the mountain. I am the damn mountain!
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