Act II - The Revelation

When in the right hands, the magician is able to make ‘the big reveal’ to the audience and show them what they cannot possibly believe. It is the trick that will keep an audience thinking about you long after the show has ended.

The trick itself builds to the revelation, where all attention must be focused For this, a minimalist stage should be set for the act.

————— [ Ryōgoku Kokugikan, Sumida, Tokyo, Japan ] —————

Showtime!

We find Sally Talfourd standing star-eyed beside the gorilla position. There is a wave of sounds - of screaming, of cheering, of excitement - crashing every moment. It’s a monstrous noise, the kind of noise that’s intimidating to the uninitiated.

And this Sally Talfourd certainly is that. 2003 and she’s in the early years of her career. A year and some on her new path, she had the honour and the privilege of being brought to Japan for the annual independent showcase that JNPW puts on. A way to showcase the best ‘up-and-commers’ in America here in Japan. For Sally, she is here with her state-side tag team partner (and storyline brother) Doug Talfourd. He (the much more experienced of the two) is busy warming up, not quite caught up in the atmosphere of it all.

Whatever match is happening comes to an end with a roar of the crowd. There’s clearly a sign of approval as to the winner - little did Sally know it was a former hero of the company getting one last victory for the ‘old days’. It’s not long before the vanquished opponent pushes through the curtains, brushing aside the trainer and the attendant assigned to them. Sweat, blood, and defeat run down the man’s face, and Sally can’t help but stare.

It’s a defeat she hasn't yet had to wipe from her face. Sally is in that part of her career where things are carefree and fun, that period right after you get your big break when a local guy figures he could do worse and before that time where enough people get in your ear and say that you could actually make something of this.

And then … that ‘something’ burst through the curtains. The source of all those cheers, no sign of defeat here. This was a man shining with success. With renown. With ‘the future’ written all over him. Sally can’t stop herself from staring. This man, a gentleman in all regards, shakes the hands of the attendants and the trainers around him, poses for a pair of photos, and then, as the hubbub fades, rests in a seat, cracking the seal of a water bottle.

“Hot out there,” the man known as Chris Strike says, looking at the bottle before taking half the bottle in one go.

Sally looks around and sees that, shockingly, he’s talking to her. She has to suppress a giggle, “It’s hot in here.”

Chris can’t help but let out a laugh, wiping his face as cover for giving Sally a look-over just to see who this is, “You up next?”

“Ummm … yes? No? I … I’m lost in all this,” Sally hides her face in embarrassment with both her hands, “I’m sorry! This is my first time here.”

Strike stands up, taking a towel and wiping his face again, “Well, take one of these,” He shakes his bottle, “You’re going to need it.”

And, with that, Strike parts, heading off to clean himself up and get ready for his return to the states to his ascent of GSB. Sally watches after him for as long as it takes for the crowd to capture her once more.

Ended, an encounter that alludes to a future that, well, no one could have known then. Or maybe they could? Maybe the keen-eyed wrestling fan who could see, in both of them, that special thing that would allow them to become some of the biggest names in the business.

But here was a meeting that was not important. A shared night, a shared moment, a random encounter that will form the beginning of many later conversations that begin:

“Hey, remember the time first time we met? At that JNPW show?”

————— [ Rupp Arena, Lexington, Kentucky ] —————

“Well done tonight!”

Sally, walking alone in a poorly-lit and near-empty carpark, is (of course) startled by the man’s voice that echoes all around. She looks up, clenching a fist (you know, just in case), trying to see who it is that’s shadowed her out here. Then she spots him, leaning up against one of the few cards.

She smiles.

“What are you still doing here? I thought they sent curtain-jerkers home early!”

There’s a laugh and Chris Strike pushes himself of the card. Sally’s walk speeds up and the two meet with a hug.

“How was my first appearance?”

Sally steps back with a smile, “It was alright. I guess Asylum will have another show next week.” She pull her hair behind both ears, all of a sudden mindful that she’s dressed in her worst gym gear. “I still can’t believe you’re here in APW … and that it took you this long to even come and speak to me!”

Sally jabs Chris across the chest, who feigns an injury, “I hope the security cameras got that, because that’s going to be a workers compensation claim.”

“I expected nothing less,” Sally starts a slow walk towards her car, Chris not far behind her. Eventually Sally loads up her car then meets Chris as he rests up on the hood. “So, what are your plans?”

Chris looks a little taken aback, “What? For tonight?”

“What? No!” Sally laughs, “I mean for your time here - for APW and Asylum? Have you got a goal? A strategy? Something you want to do.”

“I’ve got plans,” Chris smiles a smile of self-confidence,”Things I’m working on. Why are you asking?”

“Well,” Sally just shrugs, “You know, I’ve got plans and stuff as well. And, you know, when I heard you had arrived … I don’t know …”

“You have a new plan?”

“So to speak … it’s a group; the best on Asylum. It would be called the Pillars,” Sally tempers her excitement here, “But we should talk about it later.”

Strike is confused, “Fair enough.”

“I’ll have my people call your people,” Sally grins, “And we’ll get them to set up a dinner or something.”

“Let’s just keep it casual, Miss Talfourd. Maybe a lunch somewhere?”

Sally looks down, still smiling, “Lunch, brunch, dinner … whatever. We should just talk about stuff,” Sally gets a confused look all of a sudden, “What’s the meal called between lunch and dinner?”

“Supper?”

“No no, that’s after …” Sally’s really thinking hard here; you can hear the gears, “Afternoon tea?”

“What if you drink coffee?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make much sense … anyway,” Sally looks around, and pushes off the car, “We’ve got to go, man. I am dying for a shower and a nice, warm bed.”

“Ugh, don’t start talking about that,” Strike begins to shuffle away from the car, “It makes waiting out here for you seem all the more painful!”

“Well, you know, you got beat up in that match, kids,” Sally shoots him a wink, “You’ll get there some day.”

“Hah, thanks.”

Another moment between the two. And, again, one that would eventually lead the two to draw closer and closer together. The Pillars, their run in APW with the likes of Keaton Saint and TJ … it was a stage set for greatness. Of course, circumstances ended up preventing that greatness, but still: It was a shared experience between these two rising stars.

Before Strike can get all the way back to his car, it’s Sally’s turn to catch his attention.

“Hey Chris! Remember the time first time we met? At that JNPW show? Who’d have thought we’d be here now!?”

————— [ RIMAC Arena, San Diego, California ] —————

It’s the end of another successful Exodus show, but not the end of the evening. Sally has extended her Exodus winning streak to 7 after disposing of Wulf Erikson (you remember him, right?), but that’s the last thing she’s thinking of. News has floated through that Chris Strike has made his way to Exodus Pro as well, making his Exodus debut appearance. That’s what has Sally occupied - a secret that her friend has managed to keep from her.

“HEY YOU!”

Sally finally spots her target and, before he can even react to her (or even brace for impact) she all but tackles him, spilling his bags and hers.

“You just couldn’t keep away from me, huh?” Sally steps back with the brightest smile (a memory from a more innocent time), “First APW, now Exodus?”

Chris laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah, you’re right. I just needed to keep on making you life a nightmare.”

Sally starts gathering up her things, “Well, between you and me and all of Exodus … you’ve made the right choice. Exodus is the place to be. Leagues ahead of that other place. Everyone here is, like, the best, Chris! I mean, everyone is just awesome to be around. I take it you know Jon, yeah?”

“Yes, Jon and I have a history of sorts,” Chris needs to start gathering his own thing now.

“Oh, wow, that’s great! He brought me in too,” Sally lets out a little giggle, “His whole ‘death’ thing, Weapon, stuff like that. But I guess I didn’t need a reason though. I mean, when Jon Collins asks you for a favour …”

Sally doesn’t need to finish that. Strike nods in agreement and then gestures to the direction he was trying to go before Sally assaulted him. The two continue on, their smalltalk taking up the most of the conversation and the time. However, as is normal in this wrestling business, things take a more serious turn.

“So what’s your plan here in Exodus?” Strike taps the tag team title belt that Sally so proudly displays over her shoulder, “How long are you and Andreas planning on keeping these?”

“Hahaha, oh, you know - forever!” Sally lets out a lovely laugh, “No, we’re just so lucky to have them. I mean, I’m lucky to have mine. Andreas … well, he could have whatever he wants. He’s so great, maybe the best I’ve ever been with. In the ring, there’s just something about him, you know? Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him,” Is that a slight tinge of jealousy in Strike’s voice? “You two make a good pair. Don’t sell yourself short though - it’s the Turks who are champions. That’s two of you. You’re not some half-rate wrestler getting carried by Andreas.”

Sally forces Chris to stop and puts a hand up on his shoulder, “Really? You mean it?”

“Of course,” Strike pats Sally on her shoulder, “If I know anything …”

“It’s that I’m good?”

“Yeah.”

“Great?”

“Yeah, I’d say that too.”

“Better than you?”

“Well …” Strike smirks as he turns to walk away, “Let’s not go too far.”

Sally frowns at him, then rushes to catch up, “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you one day.”

“I look forward to that day, my dear,” Strike smiles now, “Whenever we’re in the ring together, it’s a dream.”

“Wait, what? You dream about me?” Sally feigns indignation, “That’s pretty creepy Chris. Like, who tells someone that?”

Strike is caught off-guard, “Well … wait … no, what I mean was.”

“No no, it’s ok … I guess,” It’s Sally’s turn to walk ahead of Strike, “I mean, I've known you had the hots for me ever since we first met. Remember the time first time we met? At that JNPW show? I sensed a spark then and there," Sally can't help but let out a giggle and a smile, "Don't worry - It’ll be our little secret. ”

If that was the serious part of things, Strike would have no idea how to describe this next question, “No, but seriously: What are you doing here in Exodus?”

Sally doesn’t answer immediately. At the time, we could have said she’s not got an answer to this question yet. But, with hindsight, we now know she’s not ready to actually reveal her true intentions. Nevertheless, it’s not like her to completely lie to her friend.

“I guess it’s because of Jon,” Sally seems genuinely confused as she says this, “I mean, he asked me. It was all so secret and everything. He needed help and now it’s turned into this. And despite what everyone says, I don’t think Exodus is safe yet. There’s always a threat to the place and, well, someone needs to defend what’s right."

“That’s very noble of you, Sally,” Strike manages to catch her eye, “But I’d expect nothing less.”

Sally smiles, “Well, now that you’re here, I know that we’ll all will be safe.

————— [ Korakuen Hall, Tokyo, Japan ] —————

Breathing heavily, WEAPON eventually places Sally Talfourd on the announcers’ table, climbing up on it and keeping himself steady as he glances up at the skies, mask torn in parts but nowhere near enough to reveal his identity. He eventually takes one deep breath and screams out a few words caught by the cameras:

“YOU’RE NEXT, FUROR!!!!”

Seth Ericson: Oh no…

WEAPON brings Sally up, whispering something to her …


… in specific before he lifts Talfourd up into an Argentine backbreaker position, holding her there for a moment before lifting her off his shoulders and jumping off the table, letting the Gods & Monsters member fall straight through the table with the falling reverse DDT after leaping into the air, Sally’s body crashing through the table as the crowd in Korakuen goes ballistic for the impact!

Dick Morosi: MEGAFLARE!!!!!

Seth Ericson: Talfourd is out! And so is the Japanese announce table that we paid EXTRA on to be brought in!

Dick Morosi: Do not be mistaken, folks, by hook and crook, Sally Talfourd beat the Fail-Safe Program tonight…but WEAPON may have very well made good on his promise to take her out!

————— [ RIMAC Arena, San Diego, California ] —————

So here we are, Chris. Face-to-face, again.

The second act of the Last Magician, and what a show-stealing performance ours will be! Usually they save the best for last. It seems that this show of mine isn’t quite like anything seen before. Of course, there will be some exceptions to the expectations, but the expectation should not ever be the standard performance.

No, the Last Magician is putting on the show that will she will be remembered for. The show that will bring back the magic to the ring. The show that, when it is all over, will be the one thing she is remembered for.

For you see, Chris, my last performance reminded me of something. It reminded me of who I am, of what I can do, of what all this means to me. It reminded me of where I came from, where I’ve been, and it gave me an idea of where I want to go. The show must go on, as they say. And you and I will continue this show together.

As we have always done.

What does that mean?

You know what it means, by trusted assistant (if I could call you that for this one week).

With all the remembering and the nostalgia that the 1-2-3 brought back to me on the stage last time, I continued to see your face time and time again. I remembered myself as a starry-eyed debutant to the big show - engrossed and encapsulated by the show. I felt young and alive and able to do anything after defeating Kevin last time around. It took me back to the first time we ever met.

Remember the time first time we met? At that JNPW show? We first crossed paths, and though it was nothing then - it was the prelude to the great show that we will now put on. Who could have known that from then to now, we would be so entwined?

There are so few people I can say ‘shared’ my career with me, Chris, but you are one of them. There is a select few names that I can say have threaded their story in with mine, and there are fewer even still whose names are still being spoken about.

You’ve outlasted the most of them, Chris. I am honoured to share this stage with you.

Leila Farrahi … Keaton Saint … Lester Only … Jon Collins … you’ve outlasted them all, Christopher. These are names that are some sort of showtime family to me - an eclectic bunch, I will grant you that. But you … you’re the person who is still in the ring, who is still stealing shows, who is still winning belts.

You have outlasted them all, Chris. I look at you with the love and wonder and astonishment that is attached to all that. My mind is clear on this, and I have no doubt or hesitation in saying this:

You are one of the greatest of all times.

You are, Chris. Your longevity, your skills, your prestige. It’s what stands you above and beyond everyone who has ever crossed paths with me. You might not have the records of some of those names, or the reputation of those names, or even the long list of belts that they have. But they are products of a different era. And era when status was built up through all those things.

But you, Chris … you are the product of the new era. You are a legend of the new generation. You are the icon of today. You have survived, you have pushed through, you have remained. And, for that, you deserve all the recognition that you will get.

At this point, you must be asking why I am talking about all this?

Because you’re at a turning point, Chris. I can see it in you.

I can see it by the things you do, by the things you say, by the things you think. You are at a turning point for which every step you take away from that person you were … the pain tho come back increases. There is always a way to come back - there is always a way to redeem yourself. But the pain and the trials and the tribulation that you have to go through for it just grows and grows and grows.

Look at me, Chris: I have to go through it all for the pain I caused. For all the hurt I gave out, I have to take it ten-fold. For all the destruction I caused, I have to repair ten-fold. And for all those people I tried to corrupt, I need to save twice as many.

I guess that saving you would go a long way to my rehabilitation. A show with you that reawakens and rejoins you to us. A performance that reminds and invigorates you to return to us. An act that is unrivalled and unmatchable to bring you back into the light.

You’re not a bad guy, Chris. You’re not evil. You’re not the foil to Exodus. You are Chris Strike, the man forged in perseverance, conditioned by success, and followed by greatness.

The only language you speak is wrestling. And it’s not the slang, unintelligible wrestling of the brawlers and the beaters. No no no. It’s the sophisticated … refined … polished language of wrestling. The kind of wrestling we both excel at The kind of wrestling we both love. The kind of wrestling that we are unmatched in.

That’s your language, Chris. And that’s the language I will use to speak to you tonight.

Your saving is not done through words and speeches. Your saving is done what one might call the old fashioned way. But taking the competition to you in the ring. By standing up against what you perceive and reveal to your own eyes that what you think isn’t true.

This is the Revelation, Chris. This act of ours is the Revelation. But it’s not for the audience, for the fans, for the onlookers. It’s for you, Chris. This revelation is for you.

The world is not against you, Chris. There is still hope and good and things worth fighting for. You know this. You knew this when you came to us as Weapon. You knew that there was some good in me still, that I was worth fighting to.

You brought the competition to me. You stood up against me. You tried to pull the wool from my eyes and show me the truth of it all. I guess you could say our roles are reversed this time because, well, that’s what I intend to do to you.

Answer me this: You look at Exodus and what do you see? You look at your world and what do you see? You look at me and what do you see?

Whatever your answers are (and I know what they are, Chris, so connected we are) I know they are wrong. They are wrong now because you’re not you. You’re not the man that I saw shrouded in success and potential that night.

Remember the time first time we met? At that JNPW show?

What would that Chris Strike say to you now? Despite everything you’ve been through, what would he say about what you’re doing to yourself. You talk about death and destruction. You carry a world title and the weight of the world with it. You have lost that direction, that inspiration that I’ve seen time and time again. The same way I lost it, you’re losing it.

You’ve lost that connection with the crowd, with the fans, with the lifeblood of our sport. Why? Why have you turned on the people who have never once turned on you. This viciousness in action and words … it’s wrong.

I’m going to show you, tonight. I’m going to show you that you’re wrong. That the fans are worth fighting for. That the fans are there for you, not against you. That Exodus is strong and growing stronger. That anger and hate will lead you to ruin.

I will stand across from you with the fans who want you back.

I will stand across from you with the love that I have for you.

I will stand across from you … but not with you, Chris.

I cannot condone what you’re doing here. I’ve tried my hand at it and I know it only leads to self-sacrifice and loss. Your obsession with the trivial … I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. I’ve died by it. Now I’m reborn with the knowledge that it will not lead anywhere good. And I can help you avoid all that Chris.

But you don’t have to trust me words. You just have to experience our match. To win against me … well, you know what you need to do. You have to give up all these pretensions and these unhealthy preoccupations. You have to focus on me, on us, on our match. No Christian Kane. No world title. No Exodus as a whole.

For that moment, Exodus is just you and me. You will need to focus, to read, to learn and to adapt. Lats week you said ‘Evolve or Die’. This week I say it back to you. You know what a match is with me. We’ve had them enough. But let’s remember that in none of those matches have you ever been able to find what it takes to defeat me. My act has always been that little bit more magic than yours. That might feed your fire, it might burn you inside, it might drive you further. But with this new attitude you have … this new War Machine that you pretend to be … you know that’s not what it will take to beat me.

You know that anyone who has managed to beat me has been able to channel everything that you’ve thrown away. Heels, faces, tweeners … it’s never mattered what type of person they are. It’s only ever mattered what they brought to the ring. The less, the better. You, my friend, are bringing way too much to the ring. You have lost your focus, you inner tranquility, that resounding peace that made you the great Chris Strike. You’re consumed with hate and rage and that disease that corrupted me some time ago. You have all the weight of a world title on your shoulders and that isn’t conducive to the kind of fluidity and movement and grace that you need in a match with me.

If you had been Weapon once more, I would be glad to lose this match. Back then you were fighting for what’s right. You were standing up for the downtrodden. You were defending something worth defending. And in amongst all that, you were unbeatable in spirit and mind. Yes, I won our last match, but you were the victor at the end of that night. You ruined my body and, eventually, that would lead to my end. You know this. You know exactly how the ‘right’ pushed you to great feats of strength, to dazzling displays of wonder, to amazing achievements. You know that feeling that drives a person who is doing what they do for the right reason.

And you know that you’ve lost that feeling. You know that, now, you don’t feel that burning desire, that defe down drive to fight for what’s right and good and honourable. You are preoccupied with the showmanship of a lesser performer, not the performer you truly are. You are putting on a cheap and forgettable show while others around you are remaking themselves to be bigger and greater and more deserving of the spotlight. I guess what I’m saying is that while you might be the world champion right now … there are others readying themselves to steal the spotlight from you.

That should be what drives you, Chris. Not these petty questions and answers that you seek. It’s sad and (unfortunately) pathetic to see how far you come. But I care for you enough to end it, my friend. I care for you so much that I want you to remain world champion, remain on top of Exodus, continue to be the great wrestler and entertainer and showman that you are. I’m not the jealous type anymore, Chris. I’m not the kind of person who wants to tear a man down because he has been great. Even less so given that we are friends. A true friend wants to see another succeed in what they do.

You’re not succeeding, Chris.

It’s time for someone to wake you up and put you back on the path to success.

I will do that, Chris.

I will do that for me.

I will do that for you.