Burrell/Bishop/Griffith/Rowell vs Rockwell/ELITE

[Ryan Cooke]

Eight man tag action, good luck to all!

[teamelite]

"Hey Daniel, I'm not sure that's a good idea, man."

[Daniel Corey, of Team ELITE fame, was in the middle of a kegstand in the backyard of his parents' home in Brockton, Massachusetts. His younger, heavyset brother, Matty, was holding the Openweight Tag Team Champion's legs. Corey's gray and navy Dustin Pedroia jersey was hanging down around his pecs and his navy and gold Nike basketball shorts were creeping towards his thighs as he went to town on the keg.]

"Dude, I can't hold you up much longer, hurry up!"

[Daniel ignored the complaints of his younger brother, a recent graduate of Massasoit Community College. Matty, dressed in a black t-shirt and blue jeans, winced in pain as he struggled to hold his older brother up.]

"Oh shit!"

[His legs broke free of his brother's grasp and Daniel Corey fell to the green grass. He grabbed at his lower back as he got to his feet and pushed his brother's chest with his free hand.]

Daniel: You idiot, I was going for a record!



Rodriguez: Man, this party is gay.

[Corey shrugged his shoulders, half heartedly agreeing with C-Rod, as he sat down beside them on the table.]

Corey: Family obligations, you know? It's not every day your nerd assed younger brother graduates from community college. And yes, before you get all "Why didn't he go to MIT?" on me, shut it. My parents couldn't afford the tuition.

[Butler nodded his head in approval, as he just looked on, trying to figure out what two women he wanted to conquer next. The women in the Corey family tree are not the worst looking women, but Big Chris has had worse looking women in his bed.]

Rodriguez: We should be training, instead of doing this. We have the huge eight man tag team match and you and Chris have Blaine and Cochrane. This week is going to be huge, so why are we wasting our time here?

[Corey smirked at the mentioning of the upcoming matches. He needed to focus his attention back to the business at hand. As he was about to speak up, two of Corey's female cousins, both about five eleven in height, brown hair and dressed in some tight clothes that left little to the imagination, smiled at Butler.]

Corey: Chris, Carlos... this... these are my cousins Ramona and Janice.

Janice: What are you buff guys doing here?

[Rodriguez cringed slightly at the gross view before him.]

Rodriguez: We're... uhh... friends of Daniel's.

[Butler nodded his head in agreement, looking both women up and down.]

Corey: Girls, we're about to leave. Thanks for being polite.

[Corey and Rodriguez both stand up and begin to leave, as Butler takes one last look at the girls, before shaking his head and leaving with his partners.]

Rodriguez: Man, your family is weird.

[Team ELITE left the yard, together, to possibly go train for their upcoming matches.]

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"C.J. Rowell, he's washed up."

"Demetrius Burrell is nothing special, just a bland champion."

"Dusty Griffith and Garret Bishop, just hacks."

"Colby Blaine, just a hot piece of ass."

"Adrien Cochrane, loser!"

[Daniel Corey stood before a Team ELITE logoed backdrop. Yes, TE is so badass now they get their own travelling backdrop. Forget the PPW or II lame backdrops, they're global now, baby!]

"You bunch of wastes of space deserve no limelight from us. That list I just laid out, it down right sucks. The best tag team in the world is stating that you all deserve to be shot in the face right and put out of your miseries.

"We have busted our asses since day one to get to where we are right now, and I'll be damned if we let any of you slow us down. Noth the has been, not the useless tag teams, not the paper champions of the world, none of you. You will not stop the hussle."

[Corey gripped his Openweight Tag Team Title belt with his left hand as he sneered at the camera.]

"The uncrowned World Tag Team Champions, Team ELITE. The single greatest tag team in the history of this business, Team ELITE. The future of this industry has three names to it, Daniel Corey, Chris Butler and Carlos Rodriguez.

"The future is now, because we are here to rule the industry. We will be on top of the world, by hook or by crook."

[Corey sauntered closer to the camera.]

"We refuse to be ignored any longer."

[Black.]

[rockwell]

[We open to the silhouette of a man with his back to the camera, sitting in a chair, watching films on a projection screen. He's clearly been at the concession stand--the dark outline of a tub of popcorn is tucked into his right arm, and the unmistakable shape of a bottle of beer dangles precariously from his left. On screen, two wrestlers circle each other. One stumbles slightly, and the second takes a shot, snags the first one's tights and rolls him onto the mat.]

Man: Old tapes are always nice for scouting your next opponent.

[The voice of the man matches that of the man securing a pin on-screen: Jake Rockwell.]

Rockwell: Even if it's just to refresh your memory on how you beat him last month.

[On-screen, the referee counts: one... two.... three! Rockwell rolls out of the ring and shrugs his shoulders as Dusty Griffith rolls to his knee.]

Rockwell: One down, three to go.

[Rockwell sips his beer, and continues to speak with his back turned to the camera.]

Rockwell: I don't know where Shanahan found his inspiration for this for this eight-man tag match. I'm with Team ELITE, huh? Last time I remember talking to them was at the Showdown after-party. We were taking turns buying rounds, but there's three of them so it went in my favor, and by the end we were laughing and slapping each other's backs. I hope I didn't get signed up for Team ELITE somehow. Who knows, I would have agreed to anything at that point.

[Rockwell pauses.]

Rockwell: I have got to stop my post-match victory drink tradition.

[Sip.]

Rockwell: As for our four opponents, Dusty Griffith is just a rerun. Then we have his tag team partner, Garret Bishop. Well, I already beat Griffith. I'll assume his little tag buddy's hovering at that same marginal talent level and write him off, too.

[On-screen we see a second match. It's the same footage from Redemption that Rockwell played two weeks ago at Showdown: the PPW Heavyweight Championship match between then-champ C.J. Rowell and Demetrius Burrell.]

Rockwell: Funny, isn't it? The tag champs are write-offs, just like the big guy, our PPW Heavyweight champion, opponent number three,

[Burrell is making a comeback, but Rowell counters his F-Bomb into a half-nelson suplex.]

Rockwell: You know, I've watched this a hundred times now, and I still can't help but thinking he's got you, kid.

[The referee counts, but Burrell kicks out.]

Rockwell: [sips beer] And now...

[Rockwell tips his bottle to the screen, as it were a toast.]

Rockwell: ...pinfall by misadventure!

[Back on-screen, Burrell has broken the count, and Rowell cannot believe it! He picks up Burrell now and goes for another half-nelson suplex, but Burrell shifts his momentum in the air and lands on top of Rowell!]

Rockwell: Luck can win a match, kid. Sometimes luck can win a title. But luck doesn't hold out. And your luck's been burning a hole in your pocket. Non-title matches. No-contests. Now you get a week off--no titles on the line in an eight-man tag, are there?

[Rockwell takes a big swig of his beer, then turns around halfway, exposing a profile view of his face to the camera for the first time. He's smirking.]

Rockwell: Hell, I could pin you dead in the middle of the ring, clean, but you'd still be able to call yourself the champ. Imagine that.

[Rockwell turns back to the screen as it transitions to a third match. C.J. Rowell is still in the ring, but he looks about ten years younger.]

Rockwell: And speaking of flukes, here we've got our final, and most interesting opponent. C.J.'s the only guy around here--aside from my old buddy Ramsey, of course--who's been kicking around long enough to have wrestled with me before. In fact, I dug up an old classic. Let's go back about nine years, to the Pacific Northwest.

[Rowell circles his opponent, and as the camera swivels around the ring we see a young Jake Rockwell handing a title belt over to a referee.]

Rockwell: Now, C.J. may say he doesn't remember this. But pull up the PPW roster. Look at his bio.

[Rockwell pops a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth, then turns to the camera again.]

Rockwell: Nine years later, and the Pacific Northwest Wrestling Oregon State title is still on that bastard's resume.

[The bell rings, and the on-screen video clips cut ahead to Rowell laying on the mat. Rockwell comes off the ropes and shoots up for a leaping knee drop.]

Rockwell: It's funny that you're tagging with the guy who took your title, C.J., seeing as how...

[Rowell was able to escape at the last second, causing Rockwell to hit the mat hard, a pop was heard through out the arena, and Rockwell shrieked in pain.]

Rockwell: ...you've both seen your share of flukes.

[Rowell barely hints at a figure-four and Rockwell is tapping.]

Rockwell: [rubbing right knee] Second time I fractured that damn thing.

[The match clips run to an end, but Rockwell remains facing the black screen, back to the camera.]

Rockwell: Hmm. Rowell gets one over on me, and you get one over on Rowell. Well, kid, I have to say I don't like my position on the fluke food chain very much. Maybe you can even get a win over me before our big title match. Hell, I'll even give you a tip.

[Rockwell slaps his right leg.]

Rockwell: Go for the knee.

[Rockwell shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth and starts laughing, kernels flying from his mouth. He begins rolling the matches again from the top as the camera fades to black.]

[demetrius]

"There is something about a man that keeps calling you out that turns your buttons. You can do everything in your power to try and ignore it the words that are being said about you, but you can't your blood starts to boil and you want nothing more then to shut the guy up and prove that what he is saying is wrong. Which is the way I feel about Jake Rockwell. I want to get my hands on him and shut him up for good and prove to the world that I am not a joke more importantly prove to Rockwell that I am the real deal."

( We open to Demetrius Burrell putting the rest of his wrestling gear into his bag, he feels a hand touch his shoulder and he looks back and it is his wife Tasha, she smiles at him and he nods.)

"Are you all ready for the show hun?"

(Demetrius nods again.)

"Yeah, I have everything ready to go. I don't think I have been this pumped for a match in a very long time."

(Tasha cocks an eyebrow.)

"Why is that baby?"

(Demetrius smirks now.)

"I finally have the chance to shut that old man up, and show him what the Main Attraction is all about."

(Tasha nods.)

"Well that makes perfect sense, but remember baby there are others in this match and not just him. Besides what makes you think he is going to get in the ring with you? He might just sit on the apron and watch and try to get into your head even more then he already has."

(Demetrius's smirks turns into a full blown smile now.)

"That isn't Rockwell's style baby, he has been sitting here for months now running his mouth, and if I know him like I think I do by now he is going to try to get in the ring with me and beat me as fast as he can to prove his point."

(Tasha nods.)

"You could very well be right."

"Oh I am right I would bet my career on it."

(Tasha sighs.)

"Now don't go saying anything stupid like that Dee."

(Demetrius chuckles.)

"I'm just saying he wants to be right so bad that he is going to get in there and try to beat me, but what he isn't counting on is that I am ready for him. I have finally seen some tapes and I know how Rockwell works. So when the time comes I am going to be ready and I am going to take his old ass out."

"Just make sure your extra careful baby he is going to have Team Elite on his side and we both know that those two idiots like to play it dirty."

(Demetrius nods.)

"I know, I am fully aware of that but I have Dusty and Bishop on my side so I don't know for sure I won't have anything to worry about."

(Tasha frowns before letting out a small sigh.)

"You also have to worry about teaming with Rowell, you can't really forget about the history you two have."

(Demetrius nods.)

"I haven't forgotten about C.J. what you have to realize Tasha is Rowell wants to get his hands on Team Elite, they took away his chance to become the champion again. So he is out for blood, I know I don't have to worry about him. He has my back and for this night I have his as well. We are all going to work as a unit and we will get the job done I can promise you that."

(Tasha nods.)

"Ok, I'll have faith."

"Good, that's all I ask. Besides I got this babe, I got this."

(Demetrius puts the rest of his gear into his bag. He zips it up and the scene)

FADES TO BLACK

[teamelite]

"I never thought I'd see this day. Not only do I get teamed up with Demetrius Burrell, but I'm also facing an arch nemesis just fresh out of the mothballs of the pro wrestling history books, Jake Rockwell."

[C.J. Rowell stood before the Pure Pro Wrestling backdrop. He was a simple man now, fighting the fight for revenge. He did not need any lavish things around him, no pretty backdrops, fast cars, easy women, none of that. Just his pride and his rage were needed.]

"Demetrius, I'm proud of what you've done with that belt, man. You have done good things since you took it from me, and I applaud that. Granted, I'm still not exactly thrilled with losing the belt in the first place, but hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?

"But since day one, you've been haunted by another scarecrow in the wrestling business' closet, a man known as Jake Rockwell. It has been six years since that name has echoed through an arena of fans that mattered, nevermind the little high schools and carnival shows. That name does ring a bell with me, as he and I went to war nine years ago over, including that match he so elegantly showcased between us."

[Rowell looked average nowadays, with a pair of black jeans, white sneakers and an all black polo on. He was not dressed as a "cocky champion" like the last time we saw him on PPW television.]

"I believe the word he's been using is 'fluke'. Fluke this, fluke that, he's a big fan of the old finisher... one, two, three deal. If he gets beat by a school boy roll up or a sunset flip, he's been cheated out of his match. He wants to win or lose, definitively.

"Last time I saw him, he knew all about losing definitively. I snapped his knee, not that it snapped on its own and he just couldn't handle the pain. He failed at a comeback after recuperating and probably still has his retinas burned from counting all the ceiling lights in the Pacific Northwest."

[The former champion looks into the camera.]

"Jake, I'm not even worried about you. While you were off binge drinking and chasing bearded women from Portland to Atlanta, I was off winning world titles. I was off making a ton of money, raising my family and giving back to this business. Where were you? Where were you when I began to mold the next generation.?

"Granted, I'm kicking myself now for mentoring Team ELITE, but I made them who they are. They learned what they could from me, saw that I was on borrowed time, in their minds, and tried carried out a mutiny. Where were you when I molded Ryan Storm into what he was? Where was the "Hardcore Icon" Jake Rockwell when Michael Lennox and I were criss-crossing American soil giving all the fans a show each and every night?"

[Rowell cocked a grin.]

"You were wishing, praying, hoping that one day your little knee wouldn't hurt so bad. You were trying to get yourself back into shape, working that beer belly back into a set of toned abs. You were wishing you could be what I was. I eclipsed you in the year 2000, then you fell off.

"And now, now you can deal with those ingrateful pieces of garbage you'll call your partners. But in the end, the side of good will prevail. Burrell knows I'm not there for him, so we're okay. Griffith and Bishop? I had a chat with them when I was over in Tokyo for the S-Pro show a while back, we're cool. We all have one goal, and that's to eliminate the vermin."

[The grin wore out its welcome and disappeared into a determined face.]

"And that's you four pieces of shit."

[Black.]