[Foreword] I stood in the middle of that ring, feeling the warmth of my own blood leaking its way down my flesh. The crowd was silent as I stood with the hardcore title in my grasp for just a few more seconds. I stared at it long and hard, as if to bid it a final farewell. I handed the belt over and swallowed my pride, shaking the hand of the man who had just cleanly defeated me.
I felt a sense of relief down inside me. The streak and reign as hardcore champion was over, but everything seemed okay. At first I didn’t understand it, but as the seconds passed, I knew. I knew that I had just passed the torch to the future….
[Scene] The scene opens in the men’s locker room of the Arrowhead Pond arena, the site that just held Chaos Heat Zone’s Hell To Pay PPV. Josh Sutton is struggling to keep himself standing as he looks into the mirror. A face covered with cuts and dried-blood stares back. The look brings back tons of memories that force Sutton to shut his eyes in wincing pain. A paramedic walks into the room and Sutton hobbles over to a folding chair, taking a well-needed seat. The paramedic has the ritualistic bottle of Nu-Skin in his possession as he walks around Sutton, surveying his list of injuries. The medic comes to a certain cut and ‘tsk-tsks’.
Paramedic: Seems I’ve finally found one that the miraculous Nu-Skin can’t fix. We’re going to need to stitch that up, Mr. Sutton.
Sutton: What the hell are you standing there explaining it to me for? Go get the thread and fix me up, doc.
Paramedic: Alright, I need to get my equipment real quick. Try not to aggravate the cut, Josh. It’s a real angry gash.
[Scene] The paramedic exits the room and Sutton sighs. He reaches up to his forehead and runs his fingers along a line of cuts. He finds the large wound and pushes his finger into it. He pulls it out quickly and lets out a muffled scream.
Sutton: I guess that’s what they mean by ‘angry’. Well, the fans certainly can’t go home saying they didn’t get their money’s worth. I just wish I was going home tonight with the Hardcore title. Going into this match I had all the momentum going for me. Then Hardcore Hulin picks up some key victories and he too has a load of momentum rolling behind him. It was like a battle of tidal waves in contrast. The two biggest, baddest in the ocean. One of them has to fall first, and tonight the first to fall was me.
Sutton: I’m not going to be like a lot of the other boys in the back. I’m not going to sit here and whine, piss, bitch, and moan about exacting revenge on Hardcore Hulin. I’m not going to sit here and claim I got screwed or lost to a fluke. No, I’m going to sit here with my face covered in a crimson mess, swallow my pride and flat out tell you I was one-upped by a better wrestler on this night. But if you think for a second, even a split fucking second that this is going to slow me down, you’re wrong. Because even more so now than before I’m pumped.
[Scene] The paramedic re-enters the room carrying two warm wash clothes, disinfectant, and items to stitch Sutton’s gaping hole. After the cleansing, he goes about stitching, finishing the job up relatively quick. Sutton sends him off with an inappropriate gesture, smirking in the medic’s spiteful look.
Sutton: Those guys are paid way more than they’re worth. But that’s beside the point.
[Scene] There’s a knock at the door. Before Sutton even has time to answer it bursts open. Dan ‘Fearinhell’ Baker emerges into the room ecstatic with a half-crumpled paper in his hand. He runs up to Sutton, almost knocking him from his seat.
Fearinhell: I have unbelievable news for you, champ!
Sutton: Former champion, Danny, former champion.
Fearinhell: That’s what I’m here for! If you play your cards right, you’re gonna be the champ again.
Sutton: They gave me a rematch with Hulin?
Fearinhell: No, it’s better than that.
Sutton: Well, spill it jackass.
Fearinhell: Well, apparently Vincent Lyger suffered a career-halting injury. It’s going to put him on the shelf for an undetermined amount of time.
Sutton: Yeah, get to the fucking point already.
Fearinhell: Man, Helms signed a match between J Stevenson and yourself. The winner will be crowned the new United States champion.
Sutton: Are you fucking kidding me.
[Scene] Sutton buries his face into his hands, sighing.
Fearinhell: What, wait… You mean you aren’t happy?
Sutton: No, I’m not happy, you dolt. I just endured the most brutal, pain-inducing match of my stay here in Chaos Heat Zone. I’m in a shit load of pain right now, Dan. And you’re bursting in here with a half-erection waving around a piece of paper like a God damn lunatic. You’re giving me a fucking headache on top of the one I already have.
Fearinhell: I understand that. But this is the chance you’ve been waiting for, Josh. You’re moving up the ladder.
Sutton: Look, let’s get the hell out of this dump.
Fearinhell: Good idea, Vic is waiting for us back at the hotel.
Sutton: Victor’s back eh? Maybe I can regain my full focus now. Ah well, on to the next chapter.
[Scene] Sutton and Fearinhell continue their conversation as they walk out of the locker room, down a corridor until finally disappearing out the back exit of the arena. The scene begins to fade to black.