Gauntlet

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Ashlee
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Gauntlet

Post by Ashlee »

Karlee Orton: Uncle Adam, are we almost there?

Adam glanced in the rearview mirror of the rented SUV to see the little girl he considered family swinging her legs while seated in the back. She'd turned 5 in November, so she was still in preschool, some private Montessori thing that rich people could afford. She was still small enough to need a booster seat, and she caught Adam's eyes in the mirror.

Adam Copeland: Just a little longer.

Nicole Orton: Here, sweetheart. Let's turn on a movie. We'll be there before it's even over.

Adam kept his eyes on the road as Nicole leaned forward to grab an iPad out of her bag. Karlee's booster seat was in the middle of the bench seat, and her mother, Nicole, sat to her left. Her dad, Randy, was to her right dozing lightly. They'd been up early traveling from their last appearance to this one, which was why Trish was on Adam's right, wrapped up in her own coat, sleeping deeply in the front passenger seat. Nicole slipped a pair of child sized headphones over Karlee's head, and started the movie for her.

Adam Copeland: She getting too restless?

Nicole Orton: No, I think she's okay. If she needs to be entertained I'll wake up, Randy.

Adam chuckled at that, and glanced over at Trish.

Nicole Orton: It's cold. Will you make it a little warmer back here?

Adam reached forward toward the temperature console to adjust the on board thermostat.

Adam Copeland: I was just thinking the same thing.

Adam turned the knob, and glanced back in the mirror one more time. He thought this might be the first holiday season in a long string of them where he felt truly at peace.

Ninety minutes later, Adam was pulling into the parking lot at the Legacy Arena where Warfare was going to air live tonight. He was permitted into the private garage based on recognition, which was always a nice perk. Randy and Trish had both been roused when the vehicle started to slow down, and Adam pulled into a parking space. Then began a well choreographed process of getting Karlee's coat on, and unloading bags. The five of them were on their way to the entrance. Someone held the door open for them, and runners were immediately taking some bags and telling the ladies where the locker room was, and telling Randy and Adam that Paul Heyman and Wes wanted to meet with them for some brief production notes. Karlee told Randy and Adam goodbye, and they were headed down the hallway being led by a production assistant to wherever Wes and Paul were waiting for them.

Adam Copeland: They asked to see both of us?

Production Assistant: Yes, they were very specific. Both of you. Together.

Adam sighed a little, then Randy spoke under his breath.

Randy Orton: Together again, huh?

Adam Copeland: Wouldn't miss it.

Randy Orton: How we doin'?

Adam Copeland: Same as always.

Randy Orton: That bad, huh?

Adam waited a beat.

Adam Copeland: Do you want to go to see Rise of Skywalker tomorrow night?

Randy Orton: Yes. Yes, I do. (OOC: That was a Return of the Jedi ref. Look it up lol)

Adam chuckled as they came to a stop in front a door with the a piece of paper stuck to the door. It read, "Production Staff Only". The assistant knocked, and together Adam and Randy went inside.

-------


The scene opened inside of the empty arena, and Edge was leaning against the ropes of the already assembled ring.

Edge: They say there's no place like home for the holidays. Which is why you're finding me here. Because as we make our way toward Christmas Eve of Destruction, there's no place I'd rather be. Because this ring has been my home for twenty years.

Tonight, I fight against five other men for the opportunity to become the EBWF World Champion. And the last loser even gets a reward. No, seriously. The stipulations of this match say that the last man to be pinned gets a shot at Randy Orton. Sounds fun.


Edge chuckled to himself.

Edge: More and more I'm being made to fight for my position here in EBWF, when I earned my place a long, long time ago. When I beat John Cena for the EBWF World Championship and relegated him to the clearance bin I was lauded for my heroism. And now we have a weak minded, pity party, Drama King for a champion. And as if it that weren't bad enough, I have to deal with the outright disrespect of fighting Tommaso Ciampa and Bobby Lashley for a chance at the main event at Christmas Eve of Destruction? Has everyone around here lost their damn minds?!

He looked into the camera, and tilted his head.

Edge: Maybe they have. Maybe they want to keep EBWF floundering in mediocrity. It's been a long, long time since I was champion. It's been a long time since I've competed in a gauntlet match. And as I'm sure my opponents will be all too happy to tell you, I'm no spring chicken. But I'm still cock of the walk.

He smirked.

Edge: Because I'm going to be depended on to make all of you care about this match, I get to open this match by embarrassing Tommaso Ciampa. Once a wrestler with so much promise. Once thought to be the future of EBWF, and instead, he settled in to collect his paychecks and be nothing special. Should go back to the indies, kid. Maybe I'll help you out and send you there myself. After all, I think you should be paid what you're worth. $50 a show should cover it.

After I beat Ciampa I'll get my hands on that doofus, Bobby Lashley. He hangs out with a pretty insane cast of characters, which I have to admit... I find a little strange. That he'd even need everyone's favorite drunk uncle, Bob Holly, and their miniature hype man, Lio Rush is... kinda like the odd couple. Or the ugliest threesome God hath wrought, I can't decide. Lashley has shown promise. But like Ciampa, he's out of his depth here. There's no beating the talent in this match. Not for Bobby Lashley.

With Lashley dispatched, I'll have to face Tommy End. Finally, a little competition. Not adequate competition, but competition none the less. I don't really understand how you've risen to legendary status here in EBWF. Probably Zahra Schreiber, cause let's face it, she's super hot. Yeah, it's probably because you hang out with her. You're a marginally good wrestler. Your voice puts me to sleep, and I really don't "get" it, but you know... fine. We'll come out here, and put on a good show and after I pin you I'll be greeted by one of the greatest entrances in wrestling history.

Chris Jericho, ladies and gentlemen. The very cornerstone of EBWF. If EBWF were a house, he'd be the support wall going straight down the middle. If EBWF were the President of the United States, he'd be the Secret Service. If EBWF were a religion, he'd be its God. We've all heard the rumors. Maybe the ratings are a little down. Maybe the dirt sheets are a little critical of the program. That's always when Chris Jericho comes around. To save the day, right? Is that what you've been sent to do? Not today, Chris. Because I have to get passed you to get to The Miz.

And Miz, I have to get passed you to get to Aiden English. Beating Miz shouldn't be so hard. He's been a different man since he married his lovely bride. One of the most formidable men in EBWF history, now just a whipped, kept married man. I shouldn't be surprised. I've always known he wasn't very bright. He's let AJ Styles turn on him half a dozen times. So Miz, good news. I plan on winning this thing, so that means that you are going to go to Christmas Eve of Destruction and get your ass by Randy Orton. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal!

There's a spear under the tree for all of you gentlemen. And for me? A shot at the EBWF World Championship. Tonight on Warfare, expect the unexpected.


Edge wiggled his eyebrows with a grin as the scene faded to the EBWF logo.
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