Tom Sawyer would be jumping up and down in front of the camera, if Untouchable had gone according to plan. Or even had gone some way he wanted it to. Instead, Tommy Sawyer ended up being irrelevant and a joke in the eyes of some of his wrestlin' idols. Not exactly the most inspirational debut onto DEFIANCE pay-per-view. But it was a whole new day, and Tom was booked in a match.

So, he sits in the promo area of the Faces of Death Training Temple. Behind him, a banner with the FoD logo. (Banned in 47 countries!) To his right, a Ficus. Because there's always a Ficus plant.. Tom's butt was planted on a steel chair and he was slowly toying with an oblong piece of gold, turning it over and over between two hands. He wasn't dressed up a-tall, wearing just a Faces of Death tee-shirt and sweatpants, his long blonde tied into a tight ponytail.

“Untouchable was supposed to be my big crowning moment of glory. I came back to DEFIANCE to combat a threat. I armored myself up to take this threat head-on. I got myself an army to fight this threat. I risked my livelihood, my body, my sanity and my life to combat that threat. And...”

Well. You saw.

Tom didn't look up, didn't take his eyes off the ultimate symbol of his failure. The smashed Macho Coin.

“So, this is a brand new day. The past... Jeez, eight months? They're in the past.”

Tom took a deep breath, inclined his head to bring those closed eyes up to the sky, and let the breath out, pursing his lips to blow a stream of breath up n' away. Sending the angels their tribute.

“In the past. Wasted. All that work, up in smoke.”

Tom's lip curled in a flash of irritation, but once again, he simply took another breath in... A long four-count of breath in, a hold of it for a moment, and then a deep, toecurling exhale.

“So. New day. The Untouchables lost their power and their titles. No more Tag Trios, no more World Championship. And I've got a whole new challenge ahead of me.”

Tom finally opened his eyes, turning fully to face the camera. His usual dazzling grin wasn't on his lips, and he looked a bit more... tired than he would have, back in the hyperactive Foreshadowing days. But there was definitely some of the Old Tom there.

Geddit, like that fuckin' guy who was like a hundred. Oh ho ho, in-jokes.

“Python. Former World Wrestling Alliance Double Crown Champ. Former World Wrestling Alliance World Heavyweight Champion. Former OLW World Champ... The list goes on. I could list accolades and impressive wins for a long, long time. And I wouldn't be doing Python any justice. He...”

Tom gives the faintest hint of a smile.

“You... deserve someone to praise you for the better part of a day and a half, or until his voice gives out. And that still wouldn't do you any credit. You are, were, and will continue to be an inspiration, Python. You prove to all the big, strong guys that us smaller dudes can hang. You prove to all the musclemen, all the giants, all the powerhouses that us small guys should never be counted out.”

Tom went to exhale, gave a soft chuckle, and an honest, earnest grin. His eyes flicked downward, and he ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it back.

“I'll be the first to admit that I'm pretty sure DEFIANCE took a chance on me because of your success. Sure, I was in a tag team, so it wasn't a risky chance... And I bet Dane thought that the Foreshadowing was just gonna be a job team to the stars. But here we are today.”

Tom licked his lips, glancing up at the camera.

“Here is where most people cutting a promo would insert a “but”. No butts here, Python. You're way more accomplished than me in singles competition, and you're a former World Champ. I've got a few big wins to my name, but... You're beyond beyond, man.”

Tom ran his tongue over the upper row of his teeth, behind his lips. His eyes flicked down and to the right, as he considered.

“Am I gonna go out there, focused on a loss? No. Of course not.”

The kid glanced back up, and scooted the chair a bit closer to the camera.

“But here's the thing, Python. Pro wrestlers always talk about need. They need something. Their needs outweigh their opponent's. Need need need. Always with the needs. Bronson Box NEEDS Dan Ryan's title, to prove that he's better than Ryan to all the doubters. Sam Turner NEEDS to kick Chance Von Crank's face in, to prove that he's still got it. Eugene Dewey NEEDS to beat Jeremy Knyte, to prove that he's an improved man. Seth Stratton NEEDS a job, so he NEEDS to beat Buffalo Slater.”

Tom swallowed hard. This was the difficult part.

“I need something from you, Python. I NEED you...”

Tom lifted one arm, pointing his index finger towards... Well, what he imagined was the ring. In this case, it was towards the ring, but the ring was in Mechanicville, in this case.

“To bring it. You remember the kind of effort you brought to the ring when you won the WWA World Title. You remember the kind of energy you had to summon up to win the OLW World Title. You remember how much you had to be willing to do to capture the Double Crown. I need that. I need you to be willing to pull out every stop, Python.”

Tom swallowed, eyes wanting to be everywhere except on the camera, before finally manning the fuck up and looking back at the camera.

“All I've gotten recently is people who want to put me in the ground, or make their mark off of me. Heidi would be content to have my skin hanging from her bedroom wall. Curtis Penn NEEDED to beat me and the Good Fight to make himself and his team a force to be reckoned with. Claira NEEDED momentum on her way to the FIST.”

Tom gave a firm shake of his head, clenching both fists and shaking 'em before his chest.

“I need you to help me, Python. I... It's not only that I can't get it done anymore. I'm not sure if I can even get it started, anymore. It feels like there's not a person in this company that hasn't had their way with me, put me out with whatever move of theirs hits hardest and took a win from me. It feels like I've had everything sucked out of me with some kind of evil machine...”

Tom's voice faltered a bit, and he looked down, both hands coming up to his face. He ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, clenching his eyes shut as he did so. Tom's hands kept going, yanking the hairband out of his ponytail. With the elastic moving around his wrist, Tom shook his hair out, hands helping to shake the mass of blonde free.

“I've been held down by the machine of this industry for too long, Python. I've let myself get all emotionally invested in the business part, and been turning a blind eye to the rest of it. So, whether he intended it to be or not, Eric Dane gave me a gift with this match.”

Tom looked up to the camera, a half-crazed grin appearing on his lips, as he jabbed a finger at the camera.

“I think you're the only person who I could have a match with... And make all this work again. This is supposed to be about entertaining the fans. Doing the right thing. Finding a way to have fun, even in a deadly serious combat.”

Tom turned that hand around, finger clenching into a fist. Somewhere in that hand, Tom's knuckle popped.

“If I were against just about anyone else on the roster, this would have to be about legacies, winstreaks, momentum, future title opportunities... Everyone else 'round here is either so much my bro that I wouldn't want to have to pop 'im one...”

IE: Eugene. Tom'd gladly fight anyone else, and it'd be more of a... actual fight. Eugene? That... brought with it a whole bunch of issues. Like being one's Brogan. Kro-Bro.

“Or will want to lay me out like I'm dead. You? I think this can be some sort of... spectacular, Python. But we're not gonna get there with me at half-throttle, skipping a cylinder and running on dirty gas. The break offered by not wrestling at Untouchable has given me time to heal. I've been doing all sorts of stretches and stuff, and I'm back to my old flexibility. I've been working on my cardio, I've been building my strength... With your help, Python?”

Tom gave a little bit of a lilting grin. There was usually some kind of look to Tom that the lad's... unique viewpoint on life had left him a bit twisted. Or maybe Heidi had knocked a screw loose in his head, heart, or soul. Or maybe Jeff's betrayal had, back in the original Danejob. It was especially evident now that Tom was reaching for that one shining hope.

“With your help, we can do something big.”

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