ANARCHY: Main Event, Vince McMahon vs Joey the Bastard

[Joey The Bastard]

Main Event: Vince McMahon vs Joey the Bastard

Career vs Company

Street Fight







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RP Below

[Joey The Bastard]

The rain poured down heavily on Joey's father's beaten up two-door Cutlass Supreme as they traveled down Highway 99 out in the farm lands of the Fraser Valley in southern British Columbia, Canada. It was a miserable day, and Joey's mood matched that. Misery. For Joey knew exactly why he and his father were making this trek in the latest torrential downfall that had stricken the unlucky residents of the Lower Mainland. But, they all knew what they were getting themselves in to when they decided to call this place their home. Vancouver and it's surrounding areas is situated in, to put it properly, a coniferous rain forest, and the whole damn region was pulling it's weight in terms of coming through with expectations. Rain, rain, and more fucking rain. All day every day. Summer couldn't get here any sooner.

Joey's father had been working as a stable hand at one of the farms along Highway 99. His job entailed various duties - letting the horses out for the day, putting them back in at night, feeding them, cleaning them, and generally looking after their well-being. But the part of the job that Joey's father hated the most was the constant stepping in horse shit every time he took a step. He knew there was horse shit everywhere, and he would watch where he stepped on a regular basis, but it seemed like whenever he forgot for one split second - he had to quickly run to stop a horse from trying to escape, or something made him stumble - a big, fat, steaming pile of horse turds would somehow position itself right under his rubber boot.

The other part that Joey's father hated about the job, and this goes to prove that he isn't completely heartless, was how if a horse became lame, it was Joey's father's job to take care of it. That doesn't mean cleaning up the wound or setting the bone back in to place either. These were race horses, and if a leg got broken or gashed and the horse couldn't run anymore, it was useless. It needed to be destroyed. This was never fun for Joey's father. He wasn't an evil man. He was an asshole, sure, but killing was never one of his top five things to do on a Friday night with the boys while downing a few cold ones.

The crack of a can of Molson Canadian being opened broke Joey's train of thought as he looked away from the the rain stricken driver-side window to look at his father. He was downing that beer like he had done so many times before. If there were a time for Joey to understand his father's drinking, now could be that time. It takes a lot of a man to take a life, but it takes much more from a man to force another to take one as well. But, Joey didn't understand as he looked at his father with contempt as he finished the beer and tossed the can down on the floor in front of Joey's feet. His father reached back behind Joey's seat without taking his eyes off of the road or even slowing down to grab another beer. He opened that one and started sucking back the sweet nectar that was inside.

Joey knew what his father did at his job. He was 10 years old now, he wasn't clueless. Dad would come home stinking of horse shit and alcohol, a little bit of blood splattered on his coveralls. Joey knew why he was being dragged along on this horrid day. His father had to kill another useless horse. But, what Joey didn't know is that he was the one who would be doing the killing.

***

"Get the gun out of the back." Joey's father barked back at him while walking toward the stable. He stumbled a little bit as he dodged a pile of fun left there courtesy of Mr. Ed himself. Joey leaned the seat forward and reached in to the backseat. An old school double barrel shotgun was what he was looking for, and an old school double barrel shotgun was hard to miss. He took it in his hands and struggled with positioning it properly to get it out of the car.

"Come on! We don't have all fuckin' day!" his father yelled using a stick to pry shit off of the bottom of his boot. Must have gotten distracted.

Joey got the gun out and jogged toward his father. Joey had a nice little escape from reality as he hopped and dodged the many horse patties blocking his path like a soldier running through a mine field. He got to his father and his father snatched the gun out of his hands.

"Quit fuckin' around!" he snapped with a sneer on his face. "This thing is loaded dumbass. You wanna get your self killed? Or even worse, kill me?"

"No sir."

"Get inside. Let's get this over with." his father said as he pushed Joey in the back to get him inside. Joey stumbled but didn't fall. That was something he didn't want to do. He could just imagine the ridicule that would be thrown his way for something so small. It was best to indeed get this over with and get the hell out of here. Dad could go back to his study and drink himself in to the grave, and Joey could go watch some WWF Superstars. Oh shit, what time was it? Is it noon yet? No, it couldn't be. They left the house at 9:37am and it's Saturday. It only takes about twenty minutes to get to the stable from home on a day with minimal traffic.

"I said come here, stupid!" his father yelled from across the stable.

Joey snapped back in to the here and now and walked over. Inside one of the stable compartments, a beautiful brown horse lay beside a pile of hay. The sadness in the horse's eyes caught Joey by surprise. They were so human-like. "What type of horse is -"

"Does it really fuckin' matter?" his father interrupted. "Look at his leg. It's fucked!"

Joey looked down at the horses leg and almost let out a gasp. The leg was gashed just under the knee. Bone was sticking out and dried blood covered the lower part of the leg. The deal-breaker was that the wound had started to fester. There was no coming back from this injury for this horse. Joey could see that clearly. He knew that this was the end for this horse, and as Joey looked in to the eyes of the horse again, Joey realized that the horse knew it, too. The horse looked at Joey, it's eyes filled with sadness, but Joey soon noticed a look of hope in the horse. It was like like the horse knew that the pain would soon come to an end. The suffering would soon be over. The horse almost looked to be become a little bit happy, or at least welcoming the idea of a shotgun pressed up against it's head. Joey admired the horse for it's strength. There was nothing that any body could do. It was like a cancer patient coming to terms with their fate and showing the strength to accept it. They have to be strong, and most of the time, they are stronger than the ones who must watch them decay. They do it for their family. They lead by example. Could the horse tell that Joey was sad? Was the horse being strong the help ease Joey through this tough task? There was no possible way to tell for sure, but Joey liked to think so.

"Take the fucking gun." his father said slowly, as if he had been trying to get Joey to take it for some time now. "Now!"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean take the fucking gun, put it up to it's fucking head, and pull the fucking trigger!" His father said in disbelief. "It's not rocket science!"

Joey took the gun from his father. He walked in to the 12 by 12 compartment to the horse. He started to shake like crazy. "I can't do it!"

"You can do it, and you will do it, dammit!" his father said, not in the slightest bit empathizing with his son. "How do you ever expect to become a man if you can't do what needs to be done?"

"But it can't fight back!"

"The horse is suffering! It doesn't want to fight. It wants to die! The damn horse doesn't have the means to take it's own life so we have to do it for him." And then his father took a long sip of beer before adding, "You're doing it a favor."

Joey looked in to the horses eyes again and they seemed to agree with his father. "It's okay, he's right." they said. "I want to die." Tears started to run down Joey's face as he lifted the barrel of the gun up and pressed it against the forehead of the horse. The horse didn't flinch. It just stared at Joey. Joey hesitated a little and that further angered his father.

"Come on, man, it's easy! Just do it." he annoyingly said in between gulps of beer. "The horse is useless now anyway. He's just gonna take up space and resources that could be used on healthy horses."

Joey looked back at his father with hatred. He imagined himself turning the gun on his old man and blowing his fucking head clean off, but instead he turned back to the horse. Joey started to sob.

"Do it!"

Joey looked in to the horses eyes one last time.

"Do it! Kill the damn thing!"

Tears poured down Joey's face as the eyes said, "Thank you."

"Do it you fucking pussy!"

BLAM!


***


The scene opens up inside the bowels of the building for tonight's Thy WWE: Anarchy. The precise location is of no importance but we see Joey the Bastard sitting in a corner of the darkened room with his forearms rested on his knees. A way he used to had sat during his many sleepless nights on the streets. The two walls that connected behind him were cold, hard concrete walls and in a time like this, seemed to comfort The Bastard. He looks in to the camera, and begins to speak.


JTB: I, just like you, Vince, have been backed in to a corner. Both of our lives are on the line tonight, and both of us agree that it is for the greater good. You want me gone from Thy WWE, and I want you gone, and make no mistake about it, by the end of tonight, one of us will be just that... gone. But, Vince, you already had your time as the most powerful man in this industry. You did some great things for all of us. You brought us the most compelling product any of us have ever seen. But that was decades ago. For years you have been putting out garbage, insulting the fans' intelligence with bogus stories and horrible booking decisions. The time has come for a change. The time has come for a genesis. You see, you are no longer relevant in this industry anymore, and, in fact, you are no longer useful. You need to be put down, Vince.


You've become lame, old man. And what do we do with something that has lost it's usefulness? We get rid of it. Tonight is the night where I rid the wrestling world of one Vincent Kennedy McMahon, and I'm not just doing this for me, or the guys and girls in the back, Vince. I'm also doing this for the fans. They may not know it yet, but this is for the best. You may refuse to except the fact that you're doing more harm than good, but Vince, I'm doing this for you as well. You're suffering, I can see that. You don't have the courage to end it all, but I do. You gave me the opportunity of a lifetime when you signed me to Thy WWE, and the least I could do to repay you is to put you out of your misery. It's sad that you just can't accept that... we just don't need you anymore. You're too old. Just let go. It's over.


And, with your back up against the wall like me, you have resorted to desperate measures to ensure that you survive. You managed to manipulate my friends in to turning their backs on me. You gave Blackman more money and now he works for you instead of me. That's fine. I don't need them. I never needed any of them. Except Triana, and you took her away from me. You're in a bad place full of fear and regret, I understand that, so you have your son-in-law and your puppet, Blade, backing you tonight. I have nobody! I've always had nobody! And if you think that that changes anything than you must be more senile than any of us realize! I have to beat you, Vince. I NEED TO BEAT YOU! Because if I can't beat you, a seventy year old fossil, than what different am I than you? I'd be the useless one! I'd be the lame horse that needed to be taken out back and Old Yellered. And if this is to be my very last night in Thy WWE, then it may as well be my last night on this whole damn planet!


Because, Vince, if you lose, you still have your millions. You still have your mansion. You still have your family! If I lose... I HAVE NOTHING! Losing is not an option for Joey the Bastard. The future of this business depends on Joey the Bastard beating you tonight, because face it, with out me around, this place just wouldn't be the same. It would just be so... empty. I'm not Jacob Senn, but I damn sure am the savior of this company. And I'm not Blade LaVigne, but after all is said and done, and everyone has come to accept the gift that I have given to this company by ridding it of Vince McMahon, you will all thank me. ALL OF YOU! Every last one of you...


There's the curb, Vince...


BITE IT!


The Bastard starts to laugh as the camera backs away. The farther the camera gets from JTB, the louder and more maniacal his laughter gets until he is in a full blown hysterical fit. The scene fades to black as all we can hear is the piercing laughter from Joey the Bastard. A hysterical laughter. Haunting. Insane in every sense of the word.

[Vince McMahon]

“Owning fewer keys opens more doors.” ― Alex Morritt
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The scene opens up in the office of Thy WWE's owner, Vince McMahon. Vince is sitting in his chair behind a desk. The desk has what you would expect a office desk to have on it, from a computer and a stack of papers and folders. In front of his desk is two chairs. One is empty but the only chair is sitting none other than the Thy WWE Champion, Blade LaVigne.
Vince is in his normal suite and Blade is in black sweat pants and a black and red Thy WWE t-shirt.

The Thy WWE title rest on his shoulder as the two continue their conversation.

VINCE MCMAHON
You know, as the damn owner of this company, I shouldn't have to wrestle anyone.
I shouldn't have to prove anything to anyone, not even Joey the Bastard. You hear what I am saying?

Vince looks at Blade looking for a response. Blade begins to speak.

BLADE LAVIGNE
I hear what you're saying Vince but this is not your normal situation.
I can take care of the New Age on my own but they won't go away unless they get what they want.
They would rather join together and force you to give them more power and more opportunities instead of just earning everything.


VINCE MCMAHON
Well I'm not going to give out free handouts. In this company, you work hard for what you want. You win your matches and you don't complain.
Just look at you and every other former world champions, they came out week in and week out, continued to prove themselves and earned their stripes.
Joey the Bastard is a great competitor and he will find himself as champion sooner or later but he didn't have to bring it this far.

BLADE LAVIGNE
I respect Joey as a competitor but this New Age group of his, is just ridiculous for sure.
I mean, I didn't need a group to win my title. I'm living proof that you can make anything happen with hard work and passion.

VINCE MCMAHON
You are totally correct.

Blade takes his cell phone out of his pocket and looks at it to check the time. Blade places the phone back into his pocket and begins to speak.

BLADE LAVIGNE
Anyways, you ready for the match against Joey?

VINCE MCMAHON
Erm..

Vince looks at the computer screen, just ignoring the question. Blade stares at him, looking for a response.

BLADE LAVIGNE
 Umm...Did you hear what I just asked?

VINCE MCMAHON
Oh sorry, what was the question?

BLADE LAVIGNE
You know what I asked. Are you ready for your match against Joey at Anarchy?

VINCE MCMAHON
Didn't we just discuss this, I don't think I should have to wrestle anyone. I'm the damn owner of this company.
I've built this company from ground up! It's not even important! Why? You think I should actually wrestle him?

Vince McMahon begins to chuckles and stares at Blade, looking for the right answer.

BLADE LAVIGNE
I think you should....I think this is important and ignoring it will just lead to something worse.

Vince's chuckle fades instantly and a look of disappointment appears on his face as he speaks.

VINCE MCMAHON
You know I stand no chance against him right?
Do you want me to lose this company?
If he beats me and takes over, he'll make your life a living hell until he gets the Thy WWE title!
I can't go through with this!

BLADE LAVIGNE
Listen, Triple H and I will be at ringside. We will make sure you don't lose. There is nothing to worry about.
And if you do, somehow lose, I am fully confident in my ability to take down every member of the New Age and you'll be back as owner in no time.
 And if you don't wrestle him, you never know what they'll try and do.
Your best bet is to wrestle him, Triple H and I will make sure you win and we can move on from this New Age era.

Nothing to worry about Vince.

VINCE MCMAHON
Nothing to worry about...?

BLADE LAVIGNE
Yes. Nothing to worry about.

VINCE MCMAHON
Alright, I trust you. I hope you're right....

I hope you're right.

Vince McMahon and Blade LaVigne stand up from the chairs. Blade places the Thy WWE title on his shoulder. Vince and Blade shakes hands and Blade turns around and walks off of view.
We hear a door open and shut. The look of worry comes onto Vince's face. Vince then shakes his head and puts on a smile for the camera.
The scene fades to black as the Thy WWE logo appears on the screen.

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Joey and I talked and he will have a RP posted by Friday (12/18)