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Author Topic: The Four Aces  (Read 582 times)

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Offline Arizona's Most Wanted

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The Four Aces
« on: June 15, 2017, 03:56:00 AM »
The scene that unfolds in front of your television screens is one straight out of an old western movie. There's an old style saloon hustlin and bustlin with men gambling away their savings and drinking what's left of it into oblivion. The bartender stood at the back of the room behind the bar looks right out of a movie with his cowboy hat and suspenders. The piano man plays a jaunty tune that all the waitresses dance to as they hand out new pitchers of beer to the patrons.


The music changes, as it does, to something more dark and ominous, as the double doors to the saloon swing open and a real live cowboy steps through the door,  scowl on his face as he power walks inside. He's carrying a pouch, seemingly full of coins, as he staunchly walks up to a round table near the back of the bar. Once he's reached his destination he takes the pouch and slams it down onto the table in front of one of the patrons seated at the table. The second man angrily glances up at the first, hand twisting the sides of his twirly moustache.

Second man: Welllllll, well well, if it ain't ol' Goodie Gumdrops the would-be sheriff right here in our backyard, boys! And what, pray tell, brings you here tonight ol' boy?

The second man, still seated at the table, sneers up at 'Goodie' with fake politeness.

"Goodie Gumdrops": ...Really? Goodie Gumdrops are you fuckin- I... I mean-

 I'm here because you, uh, Johnny Badman, yeah! I'm here because this here town ain't big enough for the both of us and I think it's high time we do somethin' about it.

"Johnny Badman" almost breaks character trying not to laugh at the awful name given to him, but instead he just rolls his eyes, still twirling his twirly moustache.

Badman: Is that so eh? And what do ya think you're gonna do about that, eh?

"Goodie" points to the coin pouch again, before pulling up a chair and sitting himself at the table.

Gumdrops: We're gonna play a game of cards, you and me. Highest hand win, loser leaves town.

Badman: Pffffhah! And why should I agree to a sad deal like that, eh? I can get rid'a you easier just by killin' ya. What's in it for me?

"Goodie" just grins.

Gumdrops: That pouch is my buy in. But it ain't all I got. You win, I give you the rest. And buddy, I got a lot. Most of its meant to be yours, last I remembered.

"Johnny Badman" sneers even more. Still twirling his moustache. After a long, slow moment, he nods his head.

Badman: Lenny, get the good cards, see?

Lenny: Right boss!

Lenny hands a deck of cards to 'Johnny Badman,' who shuffles and cuts the deck, then passes cards out to everyone around the table.

Badman: Ante up, boys.

Everyone does so. Eventually, the round gets down to just "Goodie Gumdrops" and "Johnny Badman" as the last players left.

Gumdrops: Check.

Badman: Call.

"Johnny Badman's" sneer turns into a shit eating grin as he puts his cards down. Straight Flush. And the house 'Oooooooooh's.

Badman: Hah! Beat that, see!?

But "Goodie Gumdrops" is ready for this. He places his hand down, slowly, making as big a show of it as he can. And when he places four Aces down, one of each suit, the entire room gasps in shock.

Gumdrops: Four Aces. Read 'em and weep.

Badman: You cheated!

"Johnny Badman" shouts as he jumps to his feet, not caring that half the deck suddenly falls out of his pockets.

Gumdrops: You're not really one to talk about cheatin', pops.

"Johnny Badman" just sneers again. Still twirling his twirly moustache, he angrily points at his rival.

Badman: Get him, boys!

The 'boys' shove over the poker table and the entire place erupts in chaos. "Goodie Gumdrops" takes it in style, reaching for the twin pistols in his holsters. He fires right at the same time as the 'boys' do, but as they do the screen turns slow-motion and cuts to black. The last shot of the Four Aces laying on the floor under "Johnny Badman's feet.


If you like to gamble, I tell you I'm your man,
You win some, lose some, it's all the same to me,
The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say,
I don't share your greed, the only card I need is

The Ace Of Spades

Fade in to your hero and mine, Adrian Tanner Junior. He is standing in front of a row of porta-potties, and judging by the lack of anyone else around, and the stars above in the night sky, it's probably pretty late at night.

Adrian: I was originally gonna do this in front of a weed field but- I felt this was a better fit.

He chuckles to himself, reaching into his pocket to pull out a playing card. One of the same Aces from the intro, this one the ace of spades.

Adrian: The Ace of Spades is traditionally, the highest card in a deck. Wikipedia also says it's the 'Death card' but we're gonna ignore that part for now and focus on the former.

The highest card in the deck would insinuate its the strongest card, or the one holding the most power or wealth, and you'd think that would go to Bronx but in this case I'm using it for Cashe.


Because Jason Cashe already knows what it's like to be 4CW Champion. Jason Cashe has done this more than any of us, even in this very match. So while Bronx is the 4CW Champion going into this match and certainly a top favorite to walk out of it still being so, Cashe, to me, is the biggest threat.

He takes the card between two fingers, rolling it back and forth between all his fingers.

Adrian: Well, maybe 'biggest threat' isn't the right words to use but he's the one with the most experience. The one who's been to the top of that 4CW hill more than any of us.  He's the one who knows how to get there- and stay there.

Unlike say, his cousin.

He smirks at the camera, taking his eyes away from the playing card being threaded between his fingers for only a second.

Adrian: Cashe is the spade. The trump card. If anyone could realistically take that title from Bronx on any given day- despite what Dakota thinks- It's Cashe. Behind the poop explosions and CrAaAaAzZzZzZzZyYyYyYyYy mask shenanigans is a guy who might not be book smart, but he's... street smart? I guess? That's not really what I'm lookin' for but its all I can think of at the moment. He's smarter than your av-er-age bear, Booboo! Just not... in the actual smarts department. But see what Cashe IS, is tricky.

Anyone else shits their pants on live television and as soon as they're backstage they're running for the first attempt to throw themselves in front of traffic. But Cashe? Cashe embraced that shit. Cashe owned that shit! It was Just Another Day to Cashe. That's how he gets you.

He snaps the fingers on his non card-holding hand together.

Adrian: He makes you think he's this goofball who smoked a little too much weed and what the fuck is he even doing this week? And then when you're questioning just what the fuck you even signed up for, he's dropping you into unconsciousness with the UTI or the Mark of Jason!

He snaps them again.

Adrian: Just like that.

I stood across the ring from Jason Cashe and I looked into his eyes and I saw no fear. I looked in Bronx's eyes the same way a few months ago and I can't say the same thing. Cashe doesn't play the game the way we do, he doesn't dance to the same beat we do.

So you might say it makes it that much sweeter that I beat the trickster at his own game, in his own 'home turf.'

The smirk is a full shit-eating grin now.

Adrian: I outsmarted the tRoUbLeD oNe by using his own game against him. I didn't go in with any sort of real strategy. I just did what I needed to, and though it earned me some boos- I walked away with the W.

Just like I said I would, by the way.

A wink to the camera for those keeping track at home.

Adrian: At Ante Up, Jason Cashe is the biggest threat, or at least the one the three of us should be worried about the most because he doesn't play by anyone's rules, he barely plays by his own rules.

At Ante Up Jason Cashe is gonna go into this match relying on his experience and unorthodox style and mentality and he's gonna expect it to lead him to the promised land and yet another 4CW Championship.

At Ante Up Cashe is gonna go in to this match thinking we all expect him to do A when he's really gonna do B and fuck us all up, son! Because he's the sheezy for-reeezy!

At Ante Up I'm gonna skip past A or B and just jump directly to C. Just like this week, I'm gonna outfox the fox, out trick the trickster and knock his ass the fuck down as long or as many times as it takes to make sure that I, not he, walk out as the NEW 4CW Champion.

He stops spinning the card between his fingers. Walking to the side of one of the porta-potties he picks up a small red lighter. He opens one of the porta-potties up, backing up slightly because of the smell, and turns to the camera again. Lighter in one hand, card in the other.

Adrian: Ante Up is not going to be your night, Cashe. It will not be a return to the old guard. It will not be a new day for the Last Original. At Ante Up, just like this past week... I'm gonna make your chances of winning go out-

He takes the lighter, lights the end of the playing card, and tosses it into the porta-potty shutting the door super quick.

Adrian: -With a bang.

A loud 'POP' sound follows from inside the porta-potty and suddenly the entire row of porta-potties explode with LOUD popping sounds, shit leaking out of the doors and walls. The camera cutting out to the sight of the Arizona Assassin, holding his nose and grinning at the camera.


We re-open again, this time in a scene right out of Alice in Wonderland. The Queen of Hearts' tea-cup party was at one time in full effect, but now looks run down, and, if we're being honest, a tad bit scary. Is that spilled tea on the little cushion on the table or something else. Do we want to know? Probably not.

It's a sight that would be fitting for a king who lost his 'heart.'

No matter how we feel about the surroundings, your hero and mine, Adrian Tanner Junior, isn't sweating it as he sits at one of the too-small seats, sipping tea from a too-small cup.

Adrian: Mmm, that's good tea.

He shakes his head, placing the cup down.

Adrian: Hear ye, Hear ye! Good folks of 4CWland! The King hath lost his heart! Wherever could it be, we so verily wonder!

As he says this, he places a hand against his forehead and gazes around the area for a long moment before sitting back in his chair.

Adrian: Methinks the King lost a lot more than just his 'heart' when that 'horrible peasant; Jair Hopkins beat him like the redheaded stepchild he secretly wishes he was.

He shakes his head.

Adrian: Fuck's sake Dakota, you're supposed to be The Butcher. You're supposed to be this horrible boogeyman that rapes and plunders all he sees just because he CAN!

And yet all I've seen from you are parlor tricks and using the follies of other men to push you along your own misguided campaign.

He takes another sip from the too-small tea cup.

Adrian: I hear all these stories, all these tales told on twitter and in the locker room. the horror stories of stepping into the ring, let alone a locker room, with THE BUTCHER! And I've imagined the ways in which I'd one day get to experience that. I've waited for the day I got the chance to stand toe to toe with the 4CW Boogeyman-

Another sip.

Adrian: -And laugh in his face.

Not that the old you wouldn't have scared the shit outta me like the old you scared the shit outta most people. No you absolutely would've. The old you.

But here's the thing. A friend once said to me: If Death ever comes your way and won't let you pass, make sure you scream right back in his face.

At Ante Up, I'm gonna scream in Death's face. Because the old you scared the shit outta me, Dakota. But the current you, is like a puppy learning to bark for the first time.  It just ain't the same, nah'mean?

He pushes the too-small chair back and puts his feet up on the too-small table, almost smashing it underneath his weight. But it holds.

Adrian: When Jair Hopkins beat you he didn't just take your heart. He took your dignity.

When he set you on fire he took away what made you scary. He beat the boogeyman.

At Ante Up, I'm just gonna beat you.

He smirks, putting his hands up behind his head.

Adrian: But that's gonna be enough.

For now.

He picks up the too-small tea cup again, taking another fake sip from it before throwing it high into the air. It lands on the ground next to him with a sick 'crack'ing sound, breaking evenly right down the middle of the cup, right on the Heart, now split in two, as we fade.


We open up again to the inside of what looks like a coal mine. Adrian is pushing a minecart full of coal out of a tunnel, his clothes and face covered with soot. He sets the cart down then wipes his face, wiping the excess sweat and soot off of it before turning to the camera.

Adrian: I chose diamonds for Bronx not just because he's a Wallace Kid and a Daddy's boy-

He grins.

Adrian: -But because out of the four of us it fit him more than me... at least for the time being.

See diamonds aren't just a 'girls best friend,' diamonds are pieces of rock and coal like this-

He holds up a piece of coal from the minecart.

Adrian: -that are forged in fire and lava  before you get what you see in the movies and TV ads. They have to go through high temperatures and even higher pressures before they become the shiny sparkly jewel rich people everywhere love to use to flaunt their fake wealth to everyone who'll listen.

And that's kinda like Bronx.

He tosses the piece of coal back in the cart.

Adrian: When Bronx came back and, well, fell flat on his face in his first actual, real outing -hellllooooo Gen Now Six Man- the entire world should've been asking themselves 'does he really have it? is he really as good as he says he is.'

Instead, the entire world went 'lol nvm he's got this' but that's besides the point.

He rolls his eyes.

Adrian: The point is, much like a diamond, Bronx had a LOT of pressure on himself when it came to the South Beach Brawl Cup, Second Chance Edition. I didn't believe he could do it. I honestly did not think he would pull it off. I'd heard all the naysayers- 'oh he's just saving himself for the cup, this isn't him REALLY trying. You'll see!' And I admit, I saw!

I saw firsthand.

He sighs, wiping more soot off his face.

Adrian: I saw first-hand what Bronx WAS capable of.

When he tries.

He 'hmph's to himself.

Adrian: BUT- I also saw what Bronx is capable of, first hand!, when he's... let's say... not about it.

Images of Bronx and Lauryn flaming out in spectacular fashion fly by the screen.

Adrian: The question is, that I pose to you fine gentlemen here today is- which Bronx are we gonna see at Ante Up? Are we gonna see the diamond forged in fire and flame that can take anyone on their best day...

Or are we gonna see the lump of coal that knows when he's beat and just accepts it and gives the half-assiests of tries?

I've seen both. I'd like to see the former instead of the latter but man you can't ever tell with ol' Bronxy V!

Half-assed thumbs up.

Adrian: Although I suppose, in the end it doesn't matter which side we see of Bronx. I let you get under my skin once, I let you make me underestimate you once.

I don't make that mistake twice.

South Beach was your redemption. Your time to finally prove you are who and what you say you are.

I've been proving *I* am who and what I say am I from the very fucking start!

But at Ante Up, I'm going to prove that what I said the last time is true this time.

That when it comes down to you versus me, on even playing field? Me not taking you for granted? Me knowing your tricks? Knowing your plays?

It's ALWAYS me.

He picks up another piece of coal, rolling it around in his fingers.

Adrian: I guess we'll see...


Back at the saloon from the intro, where we find Adrian, sitting in a chair next to the turned over table from the intro surveying the carnage that took place off screen. He reaches down towards the four aces on the ground, picking up the ace of clubs.

Adrian: The 'intellectual' merits for the ace of clubs are someone who's smart and creative. Someone who's brilliant, who's a lover AND a fighter- And I am all of those things but no, I chose clubs for me because when little kids look at a deck of cards they always gravitate towards what they think is a clover until you tell 'em otherwise.

Clovers are generally a sign of luck and let's face it, that's everyone and their mother's gonna focus on with this match and me. I was the 'lucky one,' me beating Steve and Amber Ryan and That Other Guy was a fluke, I don't belong here and blah blah fucking blah!

He hops up out of his seat, throwing his hands up in anger.

Adrian: That's what all ya'll are gonna jump on. I don't belong here, I'm the one guy in the match who's never held the 4CW Championship, I lost to Bronx in the first round of the SBB cup!

Get fuckin' over it.

He stares directly into the camera.

Adrian: 'Cause I'm fucking here, and I'm here to fucking stay. I don't look at luck as a bad thing. Luck has followed me all throughout my career, sometimes hindering me, sometimes helping me. I wouldn't be half of who I am without luck.

But neither would any of you fucks.

He shrugs as if to say 'its true.'

Adrian: And I'm gonna take that luck, and I am going to shove it down each and every single one of your fuckin' throats until I, and ONLY I, stand atop that mount the NEEEEEEEW 4CW Heavyweight. Champion.

He punctuates every word with a nod of his head,

Adrian: And when I do, it's not gonna be luck that leads to me standing over three broken, bloody bodies.

He makes a gun with one hand, getting way too close to the camera with it.

Adrian: It's gonna be because you, and the rest of this goddamn company, will finally understand that I.

Am that.




Adrian: And don't you fuckin' forget it.

Fade to GOLD.