> Stop Trying (Main Event II)

[Lord Blake]

Lord Blake is a rare pop of orange in the sea of crimson and navy that makes up the Ole Miss tailgate party. He walks through the mass of people, red Solo cup in hand, proudly displaying his Auburn colors. He might be crucified for being here wearing the enemy’s uniform if it wasn’t for the fact he walked alongside Aiden Van’t Hoff, known around Oxford, Mississippi as a huge booster of Ole Miss athletics. Anyone with Hoff is basically untouchable, even if they are decked out in the opposing team’s colors. It's a good thing they aren't giving the Auburn guy any shit right now because Lord is not in the mood to hear it.

“C’mon Blake, your girl isn't home this weekend anyway. Not like you’d be doing anything else. Like, since when do I have convince you to go to an Auburn game?”

Lord's eyes shift suspiciously around him; he knows he is deep in enemy territory right now.

“Yeah well, Rave ain't too happy with me right now. But just like her, I should be getting ready for my match next week in RS…” His voice trails off as he remembers present company used to be employed by the organization he is Championing. Still a sore subject. “I mean, this isn't just another match, Hoff. No one has ever fuckin’ annoyed me like Violent Intent and the Mean Girls. I'm the goddamn Champion of the company but no one acts like it. On Thursday I put an end to any claim either of them think they have to my belt. I dispel this notion that they are rightful champions and then I'm through with them. Trust me.”

⏪

Lord barged into Jimmie Barrassi’s office, the Supreme Championship over his shoulder, interrupting a cell phone conversation. Lord loudly cleared his throat and Jimmie slowly turned to look at his visitor.

“Let me call you back…” 

“After this, I'm finished, Jimmie. Put your foot down with Delise, whatever you have to do, but know this: after ScreamFest I'm done with Archer and Chaos. As long as I hold this belt, neither of them gets a shot at it. I don't know how many times I have beat them, but ScreamFest is the last time. Make it so I have to pin 'em both to win, whatever - I want to leave no doubt in their minds.”

He looked his boss dead in the eye.

“They need to stop trying.”

⏩

Aiden slaps the ass of a crimson-clad co-ed as he walks by her. She swings around, ready to be offended but when she sees it's Aiden Van't Hoff, she blushes and winks at him. With the ass firmly slapped, he refocuses on his buddy.

“I don't think it'll be that easy getting rid of them. That's because you treat ‘em like dirt, rummy. When you do that you can't be surprised that they stick forever on the bottom of your boot.”

Lord swallows a mouthful of rumcola and shakes his head.

“I have to. I can't keep dealing with them. I'm just starting to get good at this. You know exactly what I'm dealing with in this match. You've faced Archer one-on-one and when you prepared like this,” he motions around at the college football kick off party, “you weren't able to beat him. I'm in Oxford, I can't even roll Toomer's after Auburn kills Ole Miss.”

Lord seems to have hit a nerve with Aiden, because he rubs his jaw as if he's just been slapped.

“Right. This from a guy who shouldn't even be RSW Champion right now for breaking the rules of his match.”

“What are you talking about?”

⏪

Cell phone video, taken last Thursday night from the front row of the Arena during Vendetta. Not wanting to watch Raven take a beating from his tag team partner, Lord turned his back to the action. The fan with the video lens trained on him gave him play-by-play of Raven’s battle and extended his beer can out to him. Lord took the can, chugged the rest of its contents, flattened the can against his forehead and slid back into the ring.

Cut to the end of the match from the same camera and angle. Lord laid Archer out with a Silver Bullet and immediately fell to a knee, gripping his inner thigh. The camera fan stood up and yelled across the barrier to his new friend.

“LORD! ARE YOU ALRIGHT? WILL YOU BE ABLE TO CONTINUE??”

Lord nodded to the fan, giving him his assurance that the injury wouldn’t be serious. Before he knew it, Raven soared across the ring and landed on Emma elbow-first. He tried to stand, but his leg wouldn’t allow him (not that he would have moved quickly to break up the pin.) Raven got the three count and immediately rushed into his arms.

⏩

Aiden shakes his head.

“Never mind. Just, we're at the game. Lighten up.”

Lord's eyes narrow at Hoff.

“Lighten up? You saw what Mondae did to Archer, right? Knocked fuckin’ loopy. Would've done the same to me, if it wasn't for Rave! This match isn't exactly up my alley, Hoff. Anything I possibly can, I've taken care of already…”

⏪

Lord pushed his way into the office of Drew Hale, the central figure in the security of the Arena. With Drew nowhere to be seen, he walked up to the security guard currently on duty, carrying a staple gun and a stack of flyers.

“Brian, remember the time I pulled some strings and got you into Monarch on a Friday night? I’m calling in that favor. You see the people on this poster?”

Lord staples a flyer to the LED screen of Brian's computer monitor.

“The second you see them cross this building's threshold I want you to jump on them and use as many people as it takes to kick them right back out. Tell Drew that Jimmie wants a completely fair main event and these two are going to screw that all up. Cover every point of entry; wouldn't put it past them to crawl through the vents to get in. Got it?”

Brian nods as Lord turns to leave. Without him blocking the poster we see the subjects of Lord's precaution: the Blackwood's.

⏩

Lord gets a refreshed Solo cup from a nearby tent and finds Aiden in the crowd again.

“Listen, 'preciate everything here today Hoff. This is just the most important match I've had yet. There's too much to consider. I can't even count on Mondae using her technical and grappling abilities - this is No Holds Barred and she doesn't even use those skills at the best of times. Archer's endurance and stamina will be spent easily when he has to split his focus. This comes down to who is most resilient and recovers quickest while the other two are down and at that we're all equals.

“This is RSW's Great War and I intend to win it.”

Lord Blake drains his Solo cup and tosses it into the trash, a pop of orange in a sea of crimson and navy.