The Title of My Second RP Goes Here

RAVEN: … are… are we going too far here?

I stand in the middle of the largest locker room we could find, the rest of Legacy scattered around me. Noah Jackson is in the corner, his face flushed as he huffs and puffs to fill balloons, tying off the base of each one and tossing them into a pile on the floor. Shawn Warstein stands next to me, arms folded over his chest as he shakes his head.

WARSTEIN: No. No we are not.

Jackson Hart stands on a small step stool, the end of a long banner in his hand as he tears off a piece of tape and secures it high up on the wall. He climbs down from the step stool, stepping back to join Shawn and I as we admire the banner.

RAVEN: Are you sure? This feels…

WARSTEIN: Awesome?

RAVEN: … it feels like a lot…

HART: Like a sneeze, only better? That’s called an orgasm, James.

I shake my head, unable to pry my eyes off the large custom made banner.

“BON VOYAGE, MACK! HAVE FUN IN PRISON… AGAIN…”

Shawn and Jackson bump fists, happy with the decorations as Noah gathers a bunch of inflated balloons in his arms and begins to wander the room taping them up on the walls.

RAVEN: Mack O’Connor is not going to find this funny.

WARSTEIN: Good. He shouldn’t. This isn’t a joke, it’s a sincere gesture of goodwill between colleagues. We’re throwing the man a going away party, what’s funny about that?

Noah Jackson drops his armful of balloons, scattering them across the floor as he stomps his way over to the rest of us.

NOAH: Hold on, cunts. I didn’t sign up for a sincere gesture of goodwill between colleagues. I signed up to roast that bald cunt before he gets locked up with the rest of the skin headed cunts again.

RAVEN: Really hitting the c-word heavy today, huh buddy?

Noah suddenly looks at the floor, crestfallen.

NOAH: Twitter suspended me again. I need an outlet.

Shawn wraps an arm around Noah’s shoulder, shooting me a scowl.

WARSTEIN: Good job, dick. You made Noah sad.

There’s a knock on the locker room door, and Noah’s face brightens up immediately. He rushes over to the door and throws it open wildly, revealing Deanna Barrows standing in the hallway. Noah once more looks crestfallen.

NOAH: I thought you were the stripper I called for. Unless…?

DEANNA: I’m not a stripper, Noah.

WARSTEIN: What are you doing here?

DEANNA: Prepping for the show. The maintenance staff told me you guys were here. Why? What the hell is all of this?

Noah points proudly at the banner hanging on the wall, and Deanna's jaw drops slightly as she reads it silently. She looks at each of us, but settles on Jackson.

DEANNA: Is this a joke?

HART: No. I believe Shawn called it a sincere gesture of goodwill between colleagues…

She shoots disapproving daggers at him with her eyes, and Jackson shrugs sheepishly.

HART: What? It’s a going away party…

Deanna turns her attention to me, her tone deadly serious.

DEANNA: Do NOT let Mack O’Connor see any of this, especially not before the match. I’m not joking. It will not end well, and it will not be contained to the ring.

RAVEN: I’m not afraid of Mack, Deanna.

DEANNA: Don’t dismiss him either. I’m telling you, as someone that knows what she’s talking about, this match at Righteous Rumble needs to happen. If it doesn’t-

RAVEN: I know, Deanna, Jesus! The match is going to happen. You think I’m going to get someone to walk him in here five minutes before our match, and he’s going to attack me here? Give me more credit than that. This whole thing is just a set for a video we’re shooting, Mack will never see it.

She studies my face for a few moments, then finally satisfied, nods and turns to leave.

DEANNA: I have to get back to work. Everyone else ready for the Rumble? Anyone need anything from me?

Noah, Jackson Hart and Shawn all nod their heads to assure her that they’re ready.

DEANNA: I’ll touch base with you guys later. Don’t do anything too crazy in here, please, this place will hammer the company with fines if anything is damaged.

She disappears down the hallway and out of sight, Noah Jackson shutting the door behind her and turning to the rest of the group with a devilish grin.

NOAH: So the plan is to bring this Mack cunt here five minutes before the match and jump him if he gets crazy, right?

WARSTEIN: It probably is now. Yeah.

RAVEN: No! No no, I knew it, this is all too much. It’s a bad idea. Pack all this shit up and get it out of here, we’re not doing this.

The three other members of Legacy shake their heads in disappointment. Shawn puts a hand on my shoulder, looking me in my eyes.

WARSTEIN: Don’t let Deanna get in your head. Try to put yourself in Macks shoes. You just lost to the best wrestler in GCWA history. You don’t get your title back. Your winning streak is suddenly a losing skid. You’re going… back… to prison… life as you know it is over… wouldn’t you want someone to throw you a party?

I roll my eyes.

NOAH: It’s not just tearing down a banner and the balloons, cunt! I have deliveries coming! I bought orange jumpsuits for each of us, so Mack would feel like he’s surrounded by his friends back at the cell block. There’s an ice cream cake with files drawn all over it in icing! There’s a stripper coming!

HART: Why the hell would you order a stripper for a “going away party” like this?

NOAH: No, the stripper is for me you thick cunt.

I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation.

RAVEN: I don’t care! I don’t give a shit about a stripper or an ice cream cake! Pack all of this shit up, we’re not doing it! It’s stupid and more trouble than it’s worth! FUCK IT!

Noah, Jackson and Shawn are all quiet. They’re not used to this sort of behaviour from me. I’m nervous, I’m on edge, and they can all read me like a book. Can they fucking blame me, though? It’s one thing to prepare yourself for a 30-man rumble that nobody will fault you for if you lose. It’s another thing to prepare yourself for a top notch star like Mack O’Connor when literally the entire roster expects you to win and in dominant fashion.

They couldn’t possibly fathom the mental strain.

NOAH: Pack it up, cunts. You heard the man. It’s clear James has been shaken to his core by Prison Mack, and lacks the testicular fortitude to follow through on this going away party.

Hang on a fucking second!

RAVEN: How do you know about Prison Mack?!

NOAH: Well, you told Betsy, and Betsy told step-mum, and she called me and told me not to tell dad.

WARSTEIN: I’m sorry, who pray tell is Prison Mack?

NOAH: Oh! Well James had this dream where he was locked up in jail with Mack O’Connor, and apparently Mack scared the PISS outta him! Apparently he threatened James with a bunch of stuff, like that Josh Allen cunt breaking his leg.

Shawn strokes his chin thoughtfully.

WARSTEIN: That would work for me. I have to play against Allen in my fantasy league.

RAVEN: Take that back! Leave Josh Allen out of this! Don’t you put that evil on me, Ricky Bobby!

HART: Damn. Prison Mack actually DOES have you shook.

RAVEN: PRISON MACK DOES NOT HAVE ME SHOOK! Prison Mack isn’t even real! Since when do we take what Noah says seriously?

WARSTEIN: I take what Atty and Betsy say pretty seriously, soooo…

I shake my head.

RAVEN: I can’t believe this.

NOAH: I can’t believe you think I won’t mash your face up against the wall, beeeeeyotch!

RAVEN: Whoa, whoa! Cool it, man!

NOAH: I’m sorry! That’s just how we talk in the joint, cunt!

I walk away from the three of them, stomping on several loose balloons to pop them and tearing the banner down off the wall. Noah makes his way over, placing a hand on my shoulder.

NOAH: Seriously, I can fight this Prison Mack guy for you. Fighting a dream is probably close to fighting a ghost.

HART: That’s nice of you, Noah. Now James only has to worry about the real Mack beating the ever loving shit out of him.

RAVEN: Shut the FUCK up.

There’s another knock on the locker room door. Noah rushes over to open it, this time revealing a man in a leather jacket and leading a donkey on a leash. Noah’s eyes light up with excitement.

RAVEN: NOBODY EVER LET NOAH PLAN ANOTHER PARTY!

HART: SHUT IT DOWN!

WARSTEIN: EVERYBODY OUT!

FADE

TO

BLACK

---

There is such a thing as low hanging fruit, I will acknowledge that.

However, I expect you to acknowledge that there are also deserts where no fruit exists and one must use whatever meager scraps they can find to try and make a meal.

“Wah, James said the same things everyone else says about me! Wah, James talked about how inactive I was instead of focusing on my other traits!”

Are you that dense, Mack? Have you totally missed the point? In order for there to be other stuff for us to talk about… you’d have had to… I don’t know… been here and doing stuff? Your absence as a leader for this company was noticed. The void at the top of the card was clear. The defining trait of your legacy was your fucking laziness, Mack. The thing you are remembered for is not being here to give the fans some fucking memories.

You know it.

You argue it BECAUSE you know it and you’re scrubbing and scrubbing to get that stench off of you.

Be more transparent, Mack. You complain about me telling you things about yourself that you’ve heard before? You did nothing but tell me things about you THAT I SAID! “Yes, I guess if you break it down, I’m a pawn” “Yeah, you’re the king” “Yikes, losing to Lissie was definitely embarrassing” “It does hurt to be forgotten so quickly…”

BUT I FART IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF YOU MENTIONING THAT I WORKED SIX SHOWS IN SIX MONTHS!

I’ll give you credit, though. Regurgitating my material scored higher with the critics than just telling everyone you’re ready for me to run a train on you. It’s cool. I get it. This shit is hard, especially when the only promos you’ve been cutting lately have been on Dean in the laundry detail and Marco in the license plate stamping plant.

You are a pawn, Mack, because you have a pawns way of thinking. The king is useless? The king can only hide? Sure, when handled by some peon maybe. A king can take any piece on the board, which makes him as deadly as any other, but he is only as successful and aggressive as the other pieces around him allow him to be. I do not sit back and hide. I have brought the fight to you since the moment you interrupted my coronation. I do not use others to do what I can’t on my own, I’ve already beaten everyone!

I’m adding you to the list this weekend.

“Yes Raven, I know you’re beating me and retaining your championship this weekend”

This fucking agreeable bastard.

You want the Raven train? Fine, but first I’m strapping some TNT to your chest to blast a tunnel through the mountain. Let me agree with something you said, yes, I was awarded the championship. I was awarded the championship because I was the top candidate, and not one of these people stepped up to present a case that I wasn’t.

You should have stayed in your cell, Mack. This will not end how you think it will.

There’s a reason you’re forgotten. There’s a reason I’m the G.O.A.T.

You’ll see.

Fear the Raven… Forevermore...