DEFIANCE Wrestling | A Favoured Saints Company

Title: Spit Some Game
Featuring: Python
Date: Just After DefTV 39
Location: All Star Sports Bar, Baltimore, MD

Python:
Woah, dude, are you filming right now?

Voice of Fan 1:
Yeah, is that ok?

[The image on the flip-phone camera falters a bit as its owner moves to shut it off, but Python just grins and dismisses the kid's anxiety with a wave of his hand.]

Python:
Yeah, no worries. I just need to make sure I don't, like, slip a nip or anything.

[The small group of people around the bar laugh comfortably while Python flags down the bartender for another round of drinks. It's about an hour after the chaotic events of Defiance TV 39, and the battered but good-spirited young superstar is hanging out at Baltimore's All Star Sports Bar with several dozen fans he just personally bailed out of jail. Their crime? Saving his ass. Python winces as he raises a fresh beer. A sea of glasses rise around him in response and the general chatter quiets down.]

Python:
To you guys! Without whom my shoulder would not currently be attached enough to lift this glass over my head. Huzzah!

Fans:
HUZZAH!

[Everyone throws back a swig of their drinks and the bar is once again filled with laughter and cheers.]

Fan 2:
You sure you don't need anyone else to look at that shoulder, man? We can take you to a hospital or something.

Python:
Nah, nah... I've sat on a barstool with much worse.

Fan 3:
So you'll be good to go for Ascension?

Python:
Good as ever, my friend.

[A nearby group of guys trades high fives. The fan with the camera swings around for a better view of the former world champion.]

Voice of Fan 1:
Hey, Python! Spit some game on the world title match!

Python:
...spit some game?

Voice of Fan 1:
Yeah, you know. Talk some trash. Rip your opponents.

Python:
I don't think "spit some game" means what you think it means. Pretty sure it's for picking up chicks.

[The young fan's buddies share a laugh at his expense, but he's not in the least bit discouraged.]

Voice of Fan 1:
Whatever, I'm drunk. Come on, it'll be sick! I'll post it on YouTube.

[Python can't help but chuckle at this. He sets down his drink and turns to face the camera with mock reluctance.]

Python:
Alright, alright. What do you want me to talk about?

Fan 4:
Cancer Jiles!

Fan 2:
The other guys in the match!

Voice of Fan 1:
Why you're gonna win the fucking world title at Ascension!

Fans:
YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

[Python leans forward on his stool, glancing around the rowdy bar before setting his jaw and focusing his attention on the camera. He's made the decision to go ahead and do this.]

Python:
Alright, it's like this. I have all the respect in the world for Cancer Jiles. He's a hell of an athlete and the very definition of a chill guy. But this isn't a time for ferns and sunglasses. This is a time for leadership. Now more than ever, Defiance needs a champion who's going to lead by example. Someone who's going to lift the company on his back and carry it out of the valley and back up to the top of the mountain where it fucking belongs. Make no mistake, Cancer Jiles is the COOLest person I know and I'll have his back ten times out of ten. But he's not the champion we need today. So who is?

[The unspoken element of presentation has fallen over the room, and with it comes a breath-catching hush. These people have been watching Python address his opponents on TV for longer than they can ever remember. Tonight, he's doing it three feet in front of their faces.]

Python:
In this business, you need to be able to look at the big picture. If you can't do that, you're beat before you've even finished lacing up your boots. But shit, man. Sometimes you need to just take a minute and deal with what's in front of you. Kai Scott is brilliant. He's a general, they say. A mastermind. King of the big picture. All of these things are true. But he's not a world champion caliber wrestler, not anymore. The big picture alone will only get you so far, Kai. When you're in the ring with four guys at the top of the game, the big picture isn't going to beat us for you. It's not going to climb the ladder for you, and it's sure as hell not going to win you a world championship. Claira St Sure, Diane Parker, the Untouchables... these should be the last people on your mind right now. You have much bigger problems on your plate. You need to deal with me. Edward White. Cancer fucking Jiles. And, yeah... even Dentari.

[A shake of the head from Python as he mentions the littlest mob boss sends a light ripple of laughter through the bar.]

Python:
Whatever scheme you're cooking in that prodigious brain of yours... pack it up, seal it tight, and bury it. Save it for another time. Whatever outside factors, pawns, and variables you may be considering, they're all irrelevant. While you're looking two steps ahead, I'm going to knock your teeth out your ass before we even fucking get there.

Fans:
Oooooooooooooh.

Python:
Speaking of people I've already pinned since I've been back in Defiance... Edward White, ya old shit.

[This verbal jab draws woops and hollers from the young superstar's small audience.]

Python:
How can you possibly expect to win this match? What are you going to do, buy the ref? Buy the ring? Buy the ladders? Buy the belt? Buy the arena? Buy the world? If I sound redundant and annoying, consider it an accurate representation of how it feels on our end to have to deal with your fucking existence in this federation on a day to day basis.

[The bar crowd is now worked into a light frenzy, becoming a background soundscape of cheers and whistles as a much larger audience might in an arena. Python steadily raises his voice over the noise as his intensity grows.]

Python:
I feel like there are less wrestlers in this match than there are politicians. What a collection of cowards. Between White's hired hands, Alceo Dentari and the Corleone family, and Kai Scott's endless parade of bullshit, it's like a three ring god damn circus. Like, how do I even prepare for this match? I've been watching less tapes of old matches and working out and doing more packing of my Ladder War emergency survival kit. I've got my flashlight in case Edward White pays the crew to kill the lights. Got my bullet proof vest in case Dentari's mob comes out shootin'. Got my personal Totem in case Kai Scott pulls an Inception-like plot twist out of his ass and I can't tell if life is real or not. Yeah, I've got all you bastards covered. There's going to be nowhere to run, no teammates or master plans to hide behind. I don't care how clever you are, there's nothing any of you can pull out of your sleeves at Ascension that I won't rip out of your hands and shove back down your throat. All of the games, the tricks, and the bullshit stops now. The simple truth is, when you look where it counts, none of you fuckers hold a candle to me. Defiance is better than you. Its fans are better than you. And I swear I'm not leaving Ascension without the world championship, because it's about god damn time somebody gives this company what it deserves.

Fans:
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Voice of Fan 1:
SHOULD I SLAM THE PHONE SHUT FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT!!??

Python:
FUCK YEAH SLAM THE PHONE SH-

[Cut.]