Broadcast begins. The lights come up in the huge TWF arena. Nobody knows what to expect and who will be present. All of a sudden, the arena becomes a mass of flashing red and white light, as War, the entrance music of the Real Deal, blasts through the arena. The audience erupt en masse in a show of respect, not knowing if they should cheer or boo this TWF Legend. Then the big man himself appears from behind the curtain, and purposefully strides to the ring as his entrance video plays behind him, smiling all the way. He carries a clipboard and a pen, dressed in suit and tie. The lights sweep the TWF ring, as Real Deal enters through the ropes, and salutes the crowd with his trademark hand gesture. He looks extremely pleased as he reaches for the microphone. As he does this, his music fades. After looking out at the huge audience for a few moments, he composes himself and removes his shades before addressing the audience.
“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Eric Bischoff. (Pauses, and smiles.) No, no, no, no, I’m only kidding. I am the Real Deal Simon Prior. And for all of you who haven’t realised, I am the own…. Well, I’m in charge of this company – the TWF. Now, I’ve got to be honest with you all, but I don’t have a clue what’s going to happen tonight. I have no idea who’s backstage, whether the lights are working, or whatever. All I know is, I’m here, and as a result, tonight’s gonna be fun. (Crowd cheers). So, hope you enjoy the night, not that it matters to me. In fact, I couldn’t care less. Now, play my NEW music!”
Megadeth’s Symphony of Destruction blasts through the arena, as the crowd look excited, yet confused. Deal leaves, ignoring the fans as he goes up the ramp and to the backstage area.
The camera is roaming backstage. We see Flake Spitzenkörper walking in through the arena entrance with a sports bag. He looks up and smiles as he realises there is a camera focused on him. Interviewer Craig Brooks approaches him, and asks: “Excuse me… sir. Are you a new addition to the roster?” – Flake looks at him oddly, and Brooks repeats his question: “Are you a new addition to the TWF wrestling roster?” before replying with: “Ja, ich bin achtzehn Jahre alt, und ich liebe dich.” Brooks looks on confused, as Flake carries on into the arena, blindly.
Cut to an office. Deal is acting like the famous Vince McMahon whilst talking on the phone. He says: “Just make sure you’re here. No, you’re not HHH. It’s a new start, a new company, a new beginning. Don’t worry, I have no intention of using cheap WWE rip-offs.”
When Deal has put the phone down, interviewer Adam Cresswell asks: “Real Deal, what’s happening tonight? Will there be any match-ups. Is there any news whatsoever, sir?” Deal replies: “Yes, there will be matches shortly. As of this moment, I am announcing that there will be a tournament, the winner of which will become the first ever TWF Champion. The only problem is that I need another three superstars to take part. Therefore, I ask that any potential entrants into this tournament come forward, as I need to induct them before the end of the show, otherwise the tournament will not take place.”
As Real Deal finishes his speech, Flake enters the office, rudely walking in without knocking. Deal: “Ah, you must be Flake Spits…. Swallows… er….” Flake says: “Spitzenkörper. Ich liebe dich und du riechst so gut.” Deal looks confused, then welcomes him, and says “You can have a match tonight, and I will find you a suitable opponent. I’ll call you when it’s time. Now you go get ready, ‘oil up,’ whatever. I’m off to the ring to make some huge announcements.”
Deal’s music (Symphony of Destruction) hits, and Deal enters the arena, and once again steps into the ring, again taking the microphone.
“Okay, I’m back, and I have a few big announcements, so let’s get on with it. As you now know, there will be a tournament for the TWF title. And guess what? As the greatest champion ever in TWF history… I am the first entrant into the tournament. And as the first competitor, if there are no further entrants, then I’ll just have to award the title to myself. If anyone else is interested, they should come forward now.”
As Deal signs the contract, we see Flake enter, much to the surprise of the Real Deal. Flake gingerly enters the ring, looking more like a rabbit caught in headlights rather than a feared German grappler. He approaches Deal, takes the contract and signs it, without even looking at Deal. As he is signing, Deal’s mobile rings. He looks at the crowd, and then Flake, smiling slightly, before moving the microphone to his face. Speaking into the phone and the mike, he says: “Oh, great, you’re here. I’ll introduce you now. Yeah, they’ve already got your music sorted, so just come on out. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome a new superstar in the TWF… Neil VAYNE.” Vayne enters with music (Disturbed, Down With The Sickness), cocky-looking and self-assured. He enters the ring, barging past Flake, who is just standing in the middle of the ring, watching. Vayne proceeds to sign the tournament contract. Deal then asks: “Well, does anyone else wish to enter my little tournament? If you do, then you’ve got… let’s say, THREE MINUTES. No, only joking.” He looks towards the ramp, but nothing happens. “Oh well, there is still some time left, so therefore I think I’ll go ahead and announce the first match of the New Era – Flake VS Vayne. And I will be the guest referee. Now get out my ring.” Symphony of Destruction hits, and they all depart, Flake lingering slightly, not knowing what to do.
Cut to backstage, where we see Huge Greenburger come in through the back door. Brooks asks him, incredulous: “I didn’t know you had a contract here still?” Greenburger: “I haven’t. I’m here to see Vince.” Brooks: “Don’t you know that there is no Vince McMahon. The company is owned by Adam Phillips, and Real Deal is currently in charge.” Greenburger: “No he ain’t, Vince is in charge.” Brooks: “THERE IS NO VINCE!” Greenburger runs off crying, and bumps into Real Deal just as Deal gets back to his office from the ring. Stood just outside the office, Greenburger starts begging for his job. Real Deal: “No, you fat freak. How’d you get in here anyway?” Greenburger runs off, shouting from a distance: “I’m gonna get my daddy!” Deal, shouting: “JERRY LAWLER ISN’T YOUR DAD, YOU PRICK – IT WAS A STORYLINE!” He sighs, and enters his office, shutting the door behind him.
Deal sits down (sighing), and is about to sip on his cup of coffee, when there is a knock at his door. He sighs again, and says: “Who is it now? Geez. Come in.” Two detectives enter, and interview Deal about the whereabouts of Fallen Angel. Deal: “I have absolutely no idea. I haven’t seen him since The Rock died. I’m sorry, I can’t help you now, I’m busy.” There is another knock at the door, as Deal sighs once more, but then realises that it is Vayne. He smiles sinisterly, and lets him in. One of the detectives approaches Vayne and says: “Hey, I know you, you’re..er… HHH, right?” Vayne: “I AM NOT HHH!” Detective: “Oh, sorry. Do you know the whereabouts of Fallen Angel?” Vayne: “Fallen Who?” Detective: “Okay, we can see you guys are busy, we’ll come back later.” Vayne waits for the detectives to leave, before asking Deal: “Seeing as I’m a huge superstar and future TWF Champion, I’ve got a question that I’d like answering: I was just wondering… I presume that a certain person won’t be involved in the TWF anymore? You know, that guy with the long hair, the beard. You know. He’s not gonna be showing up, is he?” He looks slightly nervous, and looks toward the office door. Deal: “No, I’ve tried to contact the person in question without success. However, the person in question was a peace loving tree hugging, upholstery laying, Gardeners World Watch wuss, and never deserved to be in the TWF. So don’t worry.” Vayne leaves, satisfied with this explanation. Deal leans back in his seat, and closes his eyes.
Flake is seen with sound and lighting manager, Scott Kennedy, attempting to explain how his music works.
Flake: “In der spiel, eins, und zwei fur der untergehen. Ja?”
Kennedy: I have no idea what you’re on about. I don’t speak German.”
Flake: (Trying to explain) “Eins – Rein, Zwei, Raus. Rein, Raus. Rein, Raus.”
Flake motions backwards and forwards.
Kennedy: “Oh, I get you. That’s a Rammstein song. Cool. Okay, no problem, Mr Spitzen-blabble-throatache-corper.
Flake looks pleased, and stands there for a few seconds, smiling stupidly, before realising that he has explained things as well as possible, and no longer needs to be there. He moves away, and towards the entrance curtain.
We cut to the arena, and see the crowd reach fever point, as Zwitter by Rammstein plays over the speakers, and Flake enters, amidst several red, black and yellow firework explosions as the drums kick in. Flake slithers under the bottom rope, and starts doing stretches in the ring. His music fades, and Down With The Sickness starts, with Vayne entering (purple and blue lights). As soon as he gets into the ring, he goes face to face with Flake, who attempts to push him away and resume his stretching. As the pushing and arguing continues, Symphony of Destruction hits and the Real Deal jogs to the ring in a referee’s shirt. He quickly indicates for the match to begin.
Match: Vayne VS Flake (Real Deal Guest referee)
Vayne and Flake lock-up, and go back and forth for 10 minutes, neither gaining a significant advantage. Both perform an array of technically impressive manoeuvres. At one point, Flake attempts his top rope lionsault finishing manoeuvre, but misses it, allowing Vayne to get a near three-count. Shortly afterwards, as Deal is apparently distracted by an invisible force, Vayne hits Flake with a low-blow, and another near-three count follows. Flake protests that it was an illegal manoeuvre. But Deal pushes Flake to the floor, with Flake banging his head on the way down. As Flake is temporarily stunned, Vayne does a shooting star press off the top turnbuckle, and picks up the victory following a suspiciously speedy count from Real Deal. Immediately following his victory, Vayne starts pounding on the dazed Flake. Real Deal takes the microphone, and states:
“I amaze myself sometimes with my brilliance. Congratulations, Vayne, on such a well-fought victory, but… I’m in such a good mood, I have decided that seeing as nobody else has come forward for the tournament, that I have no other choice than to present myself with the TWF Championship next Friday on Fuel.”
He takes hold of the tournament sheet, and as he prepares to rip it up, a sudden unusual noise begins to emanate from the arena speakers. As the noise becomes louder, we hear a high screaming voice singing “Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesurrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeectionnnnnnnn”. Shortly thereafter, heavy guitars kick in, and the arena lights go evil, with varying shades of red. Reaper enters and stands in the entranceway, as Deal looks on, stunned, and a look of concern comes across his face, with an air of ambivalence. Reaper slowly walks to the ring, and enters, as Vayne and Deal stand frozen in shock. He stares at them for a few moments, before knocking them both to the ground with menacing right forearm shots to the head. Real Deal falls out of the ring, but leaves the contract and pen in the middle of the ring. Reaper picks up the contract and signs it, before pounding Vayne into the ground with his Insider Edge Drop finishing manoeuvre. As Resurrection continues blazing over the speakers, he signals the crowd, who go ballistic as Fuel goes off the air.