TCK Promo - Infinity #6 - Fortress of Entertainment

Match Six – Main Event

Infinity Purity Championship

Fatal-Four-Way Match

The Copycat Kid vs. Jamo vs. James Jameson vs. Jordan Casanova

Dramatis personæ

The Copycat Kid – Imitative, educated professional-wrestler, and decision-maker within Infinity City, has definitive links to being the Chief Operating Officer of Infinity Wrestling.

The Jameson Kid – TCK’s parody of Mr. Entertainment James Jameson, a favorite persona of the Copycat, with the ability to underplay and marginalize his opponents.

The Jamo Kid – TCK’s parody of Infinity’s Grimm Reaper, and ultimate legend, Jamo.

Wesley Hanks – The host of ‘Wesley Hanks Tonight’, a show with few viewers, but packed with Infinity’s greatest guests, not the brightest bulb in the pack.

Alan Gordon – The comedic sidekick of Wesley Hanks, an overweight individual whose wit is only as quick as his appetite is to surface.

Blair Mitchell – The personal assistant and ring announcer for Joey Harding’s alter ego James Jameson, a woman built for television, very sassy, and a member of the Agency.

The Imitation Girl – An unknown entity within the Infinity City, a possible accomplice to the COO, and definitely has links to being a female.

Mr. Osman – The head of the Battle Zone Network, a former boxer, and a man who has a deep hatred of Murray Muir, and resentment towards TCK following Immortalis. 

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Fortress (noun)

Definition 1

a) A military stronghold, especially a strongly fortified town.

b) A place or source of refuge or support.

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ACT I – Masquerade of the Nightmare

“… don’t forget to catch Martial Law weeknights on a Thursday, only on the Battle Zone Network.”

Returning from their second commercial intermission, by way of the logo that indicates that indeed the ad-break has come to a close… Wesley Hanks and Alan Gordon sit bookending the contents of the camera’s view – cue typical, jazz instrumental, cue audience applause, cue swooping camera, cue close-up on our host…

Wesley Hanks:
“Thank you, thank you, settle down, we are back!”

Alan Gordon:
“We got some new viewers, a record-setting twenty two.”

Wesley Hanks:
“Alan why don’t just shut up again, your boring everyone with your stats and numbers, you even look like a chubby accountant I once knew.”

Alan Gordon:

“Shucks, I’m blushing. All twenty two viewers can now watch my face burn up in glee. Who we got on tonight then Wes?”

Wesley Hanks:

“Wouldn’t believe it, I still can’t. She’s hot too; you’ might want to stay away from this one Alan. We’ve seen here on Infinity Monday’s alongside current Harmony Champion James Jameson…she is the one and only, the fiery… Blair Mitchell…”

… cue the typical jazz instrumental cover of the Infinity Mondays theme song – a KoRn cover is actually used this time… Cue the aforementioned woman, dressed in a Patron Saints of Wresting T-Shirt with the Harmony Championship around her waist – too big for her, but it did leave her chest raised and even bustier – the perfect image of the Agency.  Below said hoodie was the showing of designer jeans and long flowing black hair that was meant to capture viewers in the net of widespread appeal. Ms Mitchell takes the applause with all the imitative-appreciation that you’d expect from a person who was use to this kind of energetic environment. With haste, she goes over the carpeted floor and up the steps to the ever-demanding podium of Wesley Hanks in his castle of false importance… Wesley Hanks greets Blair with the usual hugs and kisses, smiles and tilted heads… They sit almost synchronised…They sit almost as if they were mirrors…

Wesley Hanks

Welcome to the show Laura, thank you for coming on. I promise I’ll keep Alan in check around you.

The camera pans out to Alan who is pretending not to be smitten…hiding his face with his hands…Blair completely ignores him and focuses on Wesley Hanks…the reaction get a moderate reaction from the crowd at best…

Blair Mitchell

No, thank you for accepting the Agency’s invitation. I am glad to be representing them tonight.

Wesley Hanks

So Blair Mitchell, last week we had Laura on the show, Joey Harding’s assistant. Am I to believe that you are James Jameson’s announcer and assistant?

Blair Mitchell

Wow, you’ve really done your research Wesley, you must be so proud. But to answer your question, yes, I am Jameson’s assistant…but that word ‘assistant’ is only half of what I would say I am. ‘Companion’ is a much better word.

Wesley Hanks

Looks like we got some fireworks in the Agency, so are you two an item then. Of course, you might be saving yourself for Alan.

Blair Mitchell

Hardly, I won’t even recognise your sidekick’s existence. Myself and Jameson go everywhere together, we are partners, not lovers you shallow minded…creep.

Wesley Hanks

Hardly the time and place for that, and on my show? You’re lucky you’re so beautiful that I’ll let you stay. But in all seriousness I have a question about Jameson…it come in from a fan. Alan would you read out the tweet they asked the show.

Alan picks up the computer tablet; Blair still refuses to look him in the eye. She plays with the ends of her hair and sits only listening to the fans question…

Alan Gordon

“Hey @WesleyHanksOfficial can you ask Blair how she can walk next to an alter ego, but slates @TheCopycatKid for being ‘lame’ and ‘childish’ #BlairBitchell”

Wesley Hanks

How do you respond to that awful hashtag?

Alan Gordon

Wait; there are tonnes more, all with the #BlairBitchell hashtag. From @SammyKinghanIWF “Two gimmicks who have never stepped in the ring together do so at the next show. They should both be fired. I joke, I’m not part of the BZN. I #BlairBitchell’d it.”

Alan passes over the tablet to Wesley Hanks who reads a few of his own…

Wesley Hanks

From @Booty_Drop…”Dat bitch ass hoe #BlairBitchell talking trash about da hood, I will slap her up if she comes on ma show. #BootyInCharge” We have another from @TheRealGooch, stating “Who is John Charismatic? #BlairBitchell”

After having heard enough Blair takes control of the situation, her ears ringing with the noise of stale humour and opinions from people barely able to put together a sentence…

Blair Mitchell

This is highly unprofessional! People are entitled to their opinions, Jameson has his own identity…the different is that TCK merely steals others personalities.

Wesley Hanks

The Copycat Kid has been on the form of his life, he hasn’t been defeated as of yet in Infinity, he took Adrian to the limit in a draw, he pulled out a stunning victory against Murray Muir, and he beat the undefeated Neal Powers at the last Infinity Mondays. He’s obviously doing something right.

Alan Gordon

I can copy to this.

Blair Mitchell

The Chief of Operations has tried to run the Patron Saints out of town. We are here to put a stop to his insane antics and provide the best television product we can. The Saints are coming Wesley, and they are now one step closer to being exactly what this City needs.

Wesley Hanks

Do you think that the alliance between Casanova and Jameson are enough to take down TCK, or will they become just another footnote on his list to keeping his job in the Infinity Wrestling Federation?

Blair Mitchell

I bought a clip with me; maybe you’d like to hear from the man himself before you make up your mind.

Wesley Hanks

Then let’s roll the clip.

The lights completely dim in the studio as a man standing inside the centre of the Infinity Arena appears as just a small dot in the distance…standing in the middle of the ring…a narrative of the voice of James Jameson appears, from everything he has ever said in Infinity…a montage of words…mixed with the image of James Jameson in the middle of the ring. When it focused on the man in the ring it was indeed James Jameson, or was it? The voice was different, the shape of the face slightly off, but the attire and appearance of James Jameson completely perfect. Wesley Hanks and Alan Gordon watched the clip without knowing the difference between the real James Jameson, and the illusive parody forever known as The Jameson Kid…the form TCK used as a method of stripping down an opponent to their very basics…

The Jameson Kid

Swearing is bad you know… it makes for bad television…classless speech used by mind-numbing people who lack the vocabulary to function in a normal conversation. Eggs are also bad too… far too much protein, unless you plan on putting on weight…then they are good. You know… everyone heard the saints had arrived… and they watched us take down that not so entertaining duo Over Rated… and ironically… they were over rated. Me and Casanova are the top brand… Dolce & Gabbana… to their knockoff pig urine… we are Walkers to their Walmart best buy knock off value snacks… anything we can be compared to with any other team is just unacceptable…we are always one step above anyone and anything. No matter what we are up against… we always look better. We have been given the opportunity to stand tall against The Copycat Kid… supposed legend… but I remember him… he stood down from his role after he couldn’t hack it… he begged Robert Stevens to take over where he had failed… and yet, we are asked why we don’t trust him. History exists for a reason… to be remembered… and all I remember is how TCK abandoned the world and cursed us with Aaron Destiny… I said last week that Over Rated were bad creative… and I still stand by that… but at the top of the pile we have the so called genius of Infinity in the opposite corner, the Imitation Hero… he, and he alone, is the mastermind of bad creative… and the saints refuse to stand for that… we won’t let history repeat itself. So yeah… me and Casanova are going to be the ones who make sure that this knock off product will be left on the shelf of inferiority by the end of the next Infinity Mondays… just as he wants to be seen… an imitation… and not the real thing. He is, or never will be as classy as we are… and throughout all the tests he put us through he sees us as what we truly are… harmony… and he hates us for it…because that is all we are… harmony. Like any good product I am only good for one thing… but The Copycat Kid is good enough to be all of them… if my product is harmony… and his is purity… what are we? Mr Media is harmony… and I will struggle finding my footing against harmony… after all… history is to be remembered… I remember the first week… Matt Rydell, he had already written it. Patron Saints don’t belong where the word ‘purity’ comes into effect… two men who stand for entertainment, who stand as burning lights in this City we loathe… should never hold the mantle of purity… perhaps that is why we failed the first time… and why history will repeat itself… I am your life… I am television… I am only… harmony.

Xoxo

The cameras return…and Blair Mitchell is nowhere to be seen. Alan Gordon and Wesley Hanks look confused at their guest’s sudden departure. The segment runs out of time and runs into an impromptu commercial…

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Entertainment (noun)

Definition

a) The act or art of entertaining or state of being entertained

b) An act, production, etc., that entertains; diversion; amusement

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ACT II – The Mitchell Girl

Leaving the set of the Wesley Hanks Tonight show was going as planned, there was a car parked around back waiting to pick up Blair Mitchell. With Blair Holmes on the run from the Infinity P.D. it was anyone’s guess as to the type of suspected ambusher could be out lurking in the streets of the Infinity City. Blair had her bag, and her senses about her. But, she was acting a bit out of character. She was making sure nobody watched her leave through the dressing room area, bringing little to no attention about herself as she kept her head down walking pass several make up and dressing room attendants. It was busy so her quick exit went off without fail. Taking a precautious look around the final corridor Blair went through a fire escape expecting a car to be their waiting for her. She cursed under her breath, the car hadn’t arrived.

Something else had though.

In the split second her guard dropped she was attacked by an identical lookalike, a perfect reflection of her. She was thrust against the wall as he head bounced off it, Blair turned to face…well, and there is no other way of saying it except…Blair Mitchell.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” The attacking Blair got a good look at the defenders face as she turned around after hitting the wall.

“I didn’t think you’d get out of that lock, I’m impressed Blair. I only took you for a pretty smile and loud voice.” The other Blair said, and by her tone, not the real one. The real one was the attacker, the one with enough reason to be so aggressive.

“I heard and saw it all, you’ve ruined me…look at what you’ve done!” The real Blair Mitchell was venting enough rage to see smoke extrude her body.

The real Blair Mitchell had every right to attack and scream at the imposter, she felt violated and confused looking at the mock up standing before her. So perfectly detailed to look like her in every way, chest size, lip type, the slight bend to the right of her nose, a freckle underneath her right eye. All the anger inside of her made her viscously angry, she lunged at the imposter and went about taking her out for good.

The two Blair Mitchells fought and tussled, pulling at each other’s hair and slashing with their claw like hands, viscous and sharp to the point. The Blair who aggressed slapped the paranoid one and caught her with her long razor sharp nails, oddly though no blood was drawn, nothing at all. A soft pink-flesh tear only remained, saying that Blair didn’t think it looked natural. She tackled the bleed-less Blair Mitchell to the floor and yanks at her hair, pulling out several layers of extensions and a sown in wig implant. Underneath was the short and strained signs of tattered white hair. The real Blair Mitchell had found her Copycat.

“Wait, wait…I recognise you!” The real Blair Mitchell commented on the truth of the person who had locked her up and taken her very identity. “Everyone thought you had joined him after Stevens’ death. What are you doing in this City?”

None of this made sense to Blair Mitchell, this wasn’t The Copycat Kid, as the unknown female peeled away more skin it was ever more obvious who this was. A woman who once existed in their realm, now back from whatever rock she had called home for the past few years.

“I was invited. War is coming, Blair. Leadership of the coming struggle will fall to one man; I was part of the plan to ensure that it remained just the way it is.” The imitation Blair spoke, now in a completely different tone of voice, much more natural to whom she really was.

“Who invited you? Was it Destiny, where is he now?!” Blair screamed to know, the warning that the Patron Saints were coming may have been a prelude to greater things.

“Nowhere this City can find him. But he has been here, watching, catching up on old faces. He weaves between the worlds fingers, untouchable. My invitation was courtesy of the imitation hero, and your Patron Saints are coming becoming quite the headache to him.” The fake Blair revealed startling truths, and of her allegiance to TCK. The man of Infinite possibilities has delivered a critical blow to the media campaign of the Patron Saints, and he had a new weapon to use in his ever expanding arsenal.

“Of all the times to return, you choose now. When I return to the Agency they’ll be coming after you, and the damned Copycat. Soon enough my peers will all see the face, and know the name of…” Blair said backing further away from The Imitation Girl.

“Uh-uh…don’t say the name, never say my name.  I am the unturning, the impervious one, I am the constant factor. Undefeated, unrivalled, and now where I belong. The Agency’s version of the Saints will crumble as the last one did; it is in your interests to lose to TCK, without him in the company the Battle Zone Network will target all members of the roster who feel independent of their influence, the men who hate the Infinity City and feel the need to rebel against it. Jameson and Casanova are at the top of that very list, if you don’t believe me why don’t you go and ask Lana Parker or Mr Osman. They don’t care about ratings, they care about control. You need TCK to win that match, or this war will turn into a bloodbath you will drown in. But here is the catch…the reason why you will leave here and pretend like nothing happened…deep down the Agency knows this. You’ve built something beautiful with the Copycat, and it can only exist if he is in motion with the rest of the machine. Purity has never meant so much to this federation, and your careers, which is why you’ll return to the Agency and forget my name, or that I was ever here. He is not your enemy, Blair. He is the fortress holding this place upright, and the reason why Jameson and Casanova will accept his reign as only necessary.” The Imitation Girl spoke softly, but with dread. She was reaching out to Blair who saw the crazy logic in her words.

A black sedan pulled up next to the two girls, out stepped The Copycat Kid from the back seat, he wore his grey suit and stood beside The Imitation Girl, helping her up from the floor. She looked a mess, scraggy hair, ripped clothes, she received a mauling from Blair Mitchell. The glow of purple from the Copycats eyes still meant he was infatuated with the symbol of Murray Muir. TCK was halfway helping TIG into the car, when Blair had only last thing to say.

“Wait Ari-” She said before TCK closed the door on The Imitation Girl now safely in the sedan and interrupting her. TCK would finish this bizarre exchange with a few words of his own.

“Never…call her by her real name. Pass on my regards to the Saints for me; and smile Blair…they’ll love to know you did one hell of a job in that interview. Tell them I’ll be waiting for them, I’ll be the one holding the shield for this City in my ring. Copy That.”

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Fair (adverb)

Definition

a) Without cheating or trying to achieve unjust advantage

b) To high degree.

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ACT III – A Reapers Command

*The Jamo Kid sits on the legendary bone throne, confiscated from the real Jamo following his loss at Immortalis, his wager for Singularity. With his head down he just sits and talks. That is all he does, he does not need to do anything else. The message of the Grimm Reaper is final and absolute, and without question.*

The Jamo Kid: The original version of this flawless copy once said, “I'm a man who wants to save this wrestling show to make the best for this company to the top.” Am I anything else? People have promised their revenge on me, but what extent have their false promises laid claim to the goldmine of victory. I stand resolute atop the roster, better than every man, a destiny more potent than that of the Gate to Fate. My opponents better be prepared for the fight of their life, they will damn near be killed when they up against my legend.

*TJK mindfully smiles and laughs to himself, confident of the upcoming squash match at Infinity #6.*

The Jamo Kid: Every fan has been right to criticise my actions, but they have not had to deal with the Battle Zone Network. They would rather mould us into tools than fighters, and that grinds me to the very core. It really, really, pisses me off. Jordan and James walk around the locker room thinking they are special, they are…but in one way, more than the definition that spells out ‘something important’. They’ll get punished by the Grimm Reaper, decimated until they have been squashed by the fist much larger than theirs. They share that Harmony Championship like a bunch of homosexuals, both batting for the same team. I’ll dominate them, and then they go cry and cradle each other as their wounds heal, they’ll probably do it together, and in the same bed.

*Alone in the room he dreams of people chanting for the spear. Spear, spear, spear.*

The Jamo Kid: That only leaves the Copycat, and to which I stand facing a brick wall made of mirrors. In the distance I think I see what it me, but it is him, a man with no face. While the queers hide in the dark with no defense except one measly belt, the real Jamo is conflicted with the most bitter of interests. First it to uphold the banner of Purity and allow The Copycat Kid to have his vengeance, where Imitation Devil and Grimm Reaper stand allied atop the roster. Or does he take the other route…complete domination. Choices, choices. All that I know is this, come the next Infinity the Grimm Reaper will still be staring at himself in the mirror. He’ll see strength, resilience, a stronghold unbreakable. Perhaps then Jamo will realise he cannot defeat him, but join him in the light of Purity…as his friend, his ally, behind the defences of the red shield, inside the Fortress.

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Reaper (noun)

Definition

a) A person or machine that harvests a crop.

b) (Myth/Legend/Fable) The grim reaper death

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ACT IV – The Wonderful Land of Oz

Mr Osman and The Copycat Kid had many encounters before, all of which they existed on the same page. But a temporary white flag had been given by both sides of this boiling conflict. Too much tension, too fast. The place of the meet was at the Battle Zone Network’s Headquarters on the corner of Threshold Crossing, a mere block away from the Infinity Arena. One side of a giant oak table was Mr Osman and a lawyer either side of him, opposite him was a normally dressed TCK, albeit he still had the purple contact lenses in imitation of Murray Muir. On the table he placed the Infinity Purity Championship, the very matter of concern of which they had relented and chose to have this emergency meeting.

“May I begin now?” The stern Mr Osman asked, trying to be polite, unlike the COO sitting before him Oz barely had the acting ability to get himself out of lying so blatantly with his face.

“Yes, we will. I see you brought with you some backup from Derrida and Valquist, but heed my warning that some vulture-sharks in their nicely pressed suits will not add half the intimidation you want them to.” TCK replied, moving straight to the point of the lawyers present.

“They are here for no such thing. But would you rather it is them, than the actual Derrida and Valquist? They’re like you; they can wrestle, but without all the glamour of your imitative art. I think that is what we need right now, less showboating, and more clear heads. Personally, I don’t think yours has ever seen a bright day.” Mr Osman was quick to release his true emotions in front of The Copycat Kid, his voice raised, his hands squeezed tightly together into a ball, there were white tension marks on his black hands he was holding them so tightly.

“This has gone on long enough; you should be made an example out of. The trust and confidence we put into you was not repaid with the same respects. Infinite possibilities do not happen from thin air, they are made, and we are their providers. There were times kings would execute subjects for betrayal, how those times were much simpler.” Oz continued.

“I’d be a liar if I didn’t uphold the promise we made to our stars, and viewers.” TCK said, remaining perfectly calm and still in the lion’s den. “We had everything, and then you imposed that ridiculous PG14 rating, I could equally argue that you thought we’d be reckless, and that is why you have come to these ends. Your stubbornness has created an army of men and women who want to break that one rule.”

“Listen to yourself, your deluded. Do you really believe in the definition of infinity?” Oz retaliated, at an ever louder pitch.

“I do. Anyone can become anything.” TCK replied humbled by his task at proving that.

“That is coming from the man who barely knows how to be himself!” Mr Osman took it to a personal level with TCK this time. “Look at you, fake hair, fake eye colour, fake face, fake sincerity, fake everything, fake…fake…fake. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is real to you is it? Just gimmicks and translations of your own twisted universe.”

“Congratulations, you probably did a better shoot on me just then than my upcoming opponents could every dream of speaking.” TCK made a quip about Oz’s choice of words.

“I didn’t choose these men to face you because of their inability to deconstruct you verbally; no…I chose them because I know that they can physically hurt you. Sure, at first this was about having you fired, but if you here to stay I might as well make a show out of it and watch you thrashed about like a fish caught in the jaws of a shark.” Osman showed a much more bitter and evil side to his demeanour.

“Just because you think that by pitting me against Jamo, a man who came to my aid, and the Saints, two men of whom I’ve had plenty the history with doesn’t quite solve your problem. And that problem is you Osman, you want things done your way…but they can’t be done that way because you are closed off to the idea about infinity. You had your dream taken away from you, you were told you could never fight again; it hurt you and burned you deep. Every morning you remember what the world took from you…but not what it gave you.” TCK responded to Osman’s threats, this time with his own personal touch.

“I hate you Copycat,” He said, basically growling in rage. “All you needed to do was admit you were wrong, sign the papers, and become part of my administration. After Monday you’ll be exiled from this City, I’ll even drag you out myself.” Mr Osman rescinded his offer on the cards for TCK, but he already knew that would be his likely response.

“Not to sound ignorant, but what makes you think that I had completely forgotten about the challenge you have presented me? But it seems as if you and your administration have forgotten the crucial parts of history…wherever there is weakness in a character to expose, I’ll be there. Quite honestly, I am honoured that you believe only three men are capable of making sense of me, Oz.” TCK now sounded legitimately happy.

“There it is…that…that ego! You believe so highly of yourself that you can carry this federation on your two shoulders, alone. You want to be everything, and seen by everyone. I am going to watch you break, it will bring me some peace of mind after what you have put us all through.” Mr Osman stated as he stood up, trying to stand over the Infinity COO.

The Copycat Kid rose to his feet to not give Osman the satisfaction of looking down on him. TCK was not afraid of Osman, but as he picked up and placed the Purity Championship around his shoulder it was a bold statement that he wasn’t going to be bullied by a man attempting to display his superiority.

“Ego? If only you knew who I once was, I am who I am because of that word. I became something I was not, and it ruined me, just like when you were made to retire. You became bitter and resentful to the world, and I left behind the identity I had once been accustomed to. I have no choice but to be the man of infinite possibilities, if not who, then what will become of the City I created? No Casanova, no Jameson, and no Jamo can copy the feats I will accomplish as the defender of infinity. And you know what I like best, the reason you are so angry Oz. In your wonderful world I am the chaos you cannot control, and it boils you up because you know in two weeks we’ll be right back to square one. You’ll still be pent up with anger; I’ll still be telling you to accept that I am going nowhere. Copy that.”

Ended

TCK Promo - Infinity #5 - 'Blood Symbol'

Main Event Match Six

Singles Match – Infinity Purity Championship

Neal Powers(c) vs. The Copycat Kid

Dramatis personæ

The Copycat Kid – Imitative, educated professional-wrestler, and decision-maker within Infinity City, has definitive links to being the Chief Operating Officer of Infinity Wrestling. Currently still impersonating Murray Muir.

Neal Powers – Cunning, twisted lead of Infinity City’s ‘The Blood Family’, and current Infinity Purity Champion. Neal is largely unknown, an enigma to Infinity, and wants his family to rule the City.

Panik – Neal Power’s number two in his family, and a loyal servant man-tool used to impose his will on Powers enemies.

Sin & Havok – The latest additions to Neal Power’s Blood Family. Both masked, brutal individuals, with no regard for life except of Powers himself.

Damien Muir– Uncle of Murray Muir, and a high-ranking member of the Infinity City Mob. The Copycat is undefeated against him in matches.

The Jameson Kid – A parody of Mr. Entertainment James Jameson, a favorite persona of the Copycat, with the ability to underplay and marginalize his opponents.

Horatio Williams – Psychiatrist of the Trinity Ward, a medical triage specializing in help for those who need a listening ear, also the brother to Logan Williams.

Oria Valquist – A fifty five year old black man who is in charge of running the legal firm Derrida & Valquist in the heart of the Infinity City. He has a deep disdain of non-technical wrestling.

Mr. Osman – The head of the Battle Zone Network, a former boxer, and a man who has a deep hatred of Murray Muir, and resentment towards TCK following Immortalis.

Blood (noun)

Definition 1

a) The red liquid that circulates in the arteries and veins of humans and other vertebrate animals, carrying oxygen to and carbon dioxide from the issues of the body.

b) Violence involving bloodshed

ACT I – The Bloody Ordeal

Another evening, another triage of patients, another day like the last. Most normal people could say that, but Horatio Williams of late had dealt with a different kind of clientele. Mob bosses, mobsters, Copycat COO’s, enlightened lawyer turned wrestler, and now this. Three weeks ago he was hospitalised by Murray Muir for revealing to the infamous imitator all of his deep and dark secrets. Three weeks ago he thought that that his torment was over. How wrong Horatio was.

Neal Powers circled him slowly with a baseball bat in hand; Horatio was tied to a wooden chair in his office after he was attacked by his three accomplices in the Blood Family.

Panik, Sin, and Havok. Three men who took the form of demonic monsters.

All three loyal to the purity of the Blood Family.

Neal was wearing a clay mask that shrouded his face from view, Horatio had own mask…but one made of cuts and bruises that made him indistinguishable compared to the moment they walked in. Horatio couldn’t answer their question. “Who was The Copycat Kid?”

Neal was determined to unlock the origins of the man in charge of the Infinity City, and he was certain that Horatio Williams knew after it was public knowledge he impersonated Murray Muir to gain access to him most personal information.

“You’re not helping yourself, whelp.” Neal said to Horatio, waving the baseball bat in front of him. He squirmed, afraid of being hit again by him.

“I don’t know the answer, I am telling the truth.” He said quietly, out of breath, the drops of blood running from his nose and mouth. He much preferred Murray who left after the attack.

“At this stage you can at least care to guess as to the identity of a man who is my boss, your boss, everyone’s boss. We know so little about him, where he came from, everything. Care to share?” Neal suggested an alternative; Panik looked into Horatio’s eyes which reinforced the need to at least say something before he was beaten by Neal’s right hand man again.

“He was around long before the Bebo Wrestling Network, the entire network closed. Most of the men faded into obscurity…the others are here in the City or scattered around the world wrestling at independents. It would take years to search for someone who knew anything…and the two people that do know of his origins, are well…unobtainable. One was buried, the other fled following the moment of the firsts death.” Horatio said, but not revealing any new information.

“We know that, you are reminding us of facts we already are aware of. What else!” Neal startled him by hitting his chair with the baseball bat.

“Ok, ok!” He said terrified, focusing his mind to what he knew about The Copycat Kid. “He is…he is…much more different than I learnt. I barely could tell him from Murray, but as I said earlier after that I did some digging into him. He had followed a pattern throughout the years before his own obscurity when Destiny rose to prominence, and he seems to have retained that same important pattern. He does not copy, the name, his gimmick…it is just a rouse. He does not copy, he absorbs, in limitless amounts. There is no depth to the levels he would go, which indicated his lack of human empathy. In my…in my…opinion, his ability to process emotion is unique, and unlike the tendencies that form psychopaths. I believe we will never know who he truly was until he is ready to show the world for himself, not through suppression from your…family. All I know is that he is searching for something, and he is leeching onto the very essence of life to find it, but my guess is that you will never find that motivation. Knowing his method, and finding its weakness, is all you can hope for. What can he take from you Neal?” Horatio answered as truthfully as he could.

Neal seemed satisfied with the answer given; he took off the clay mask on his face and put it on a defenceless Horatio Williams who quivered after seeing the true face of Neal Powers. Covered in black, white, and red face-paint it was another mask away from the real self of Neal. Horatio watched as through the masked he walked up to Panik and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, ready to issue the next set of orders.

“Panik…go tell him the poisoned blood of this family will be too much to handle, and by no means get physical with him. We’ll leave that showcase for all to see.”

Panik nodded and as Neal took his hand off him he quickly departed the office as all three turned their attention to Horatio Williams in the chair. Neal pointed up, signalling to take him out of the chair. With their grotesque hands Sin and Havok cut the bindings that held him in the chair and lifted him up so he was slumping towards the floor, weakened.

“That only leaves you.” Neal wiped the blood from underneath his mouth, and onto his jacket.

“Remove him from my sight, I will grant him the kindness of a quick end. He has seen enough, let us put this poor soul out of the misery of his life shall we?” He directed Sin and Havok towards the window as he struggled amidst their huge size, but to no avail. Neal watched with a smile as they were manhandling Horatio Williams.

“No!” Horatio screamed as he was lunged out of his office window. “Noooo!”

A splash was heard which surprised Power’s subservient members of the Blood Family.

“How did you know there would be a pool outside?” Sin asked regarding the survival of Horatio Williams.

“I didn’t.” Neal stated boldly as he left the office.

ACT II – Vengeance unto Rebellion

“Dammit!” Mr Osman shouted in the large office of Oria Valquist, the man in charge of legal firm Derrida and Valquist. “Damn the Copycat, damn that goon Murray Muir, and damn to hell Neal Powers.”

“I can see that this is more to do with much more than the Chief Operating Officer of Infinity Wrestling, Oz. Tell me…what is the part that stings the most?” Oria replied.

“They don’t know how to keep a promise. Infinity is beneath us, what that Copycat thinks he is double crossing me at Immortalis?!” He bellowed at Oria again, of whom tried to stay patiently calm with his friend of over thirty years.

Oria Valquist went over to a fine wooden cabinet and took out a glass bottle with a deep brown liquid sloshing around inside. He also grabbed two small tumbler glasses and poured two generous amounts, one for him, one for Mr Osman. He placed it down on the table where he was sitting.

“This should take the edge on your tension.” Oria recommended he drink the scotch.

“I don’t drink.” He said begrudgingly, looking at the drink with little appeal.

Oria nudged it further to Mr. Osman, “Every now and then you need to know when to let up, you need a cool head to see through the next part of the plan. You cannot risk tightening up into a tight ball of tension; you’ll become a time-bomb to only yourself and the BZN.”

“Desperate times, I guess.” Mr Osman took the drink and downed it in one; he squirmed as the warming nectar slowly trickled down his throat.

Oria Valquist joined him, he watched Oz cough as he couldn’t handle the drink. Oria then brought up the documents he had drafted up following the end to Immortalis, and the match between Murray Muir and The Copycat Kid that saw the COO use Muir as the template for Infinite possibilities…a massive middle finger to the Battle Zone Network’s tightening rules around the Infinity Wrestling brand.

“Here they are,” he sat down at the opposite side of the table, he slid over the documents. Mr Osman opened the documents; his lip flickered with the faint sign of a smile on his black face.

“This should be everything you need to condemn the Copycat and have him removed from television.” Oria continued.

As Mr Osman was reading more of the document more of his smile was forming until it was a full faced grin. He seemed satisfied with the documents, and he looked at Oria for confirmation.

“Spell this out in plain English for me, what grounds do I have over the Copycat?” Mr Osman asked, his mood more mellow and contented after his mind put at ease by Oria.

“TCK has breached his contract with the BZN. By impeaching on the PGTV rating you have set for your network the Infinity Wrestling Federation has on several occasions breached multiple clauses of the contract. Neal Powers…Murray Muir…The Copycat…Matt Rydell, even Taylor Westfall. The definition you need to remember is this; ‘failing to perform any term of a contract, written or oral, without a legitimate legal excuse. This may include not completing a job, not paying in full or on time, failure to deliver all the goods, substituting inferior or significantly different goods, not providing a bond when required, being late without excuse, or any act which shows the party will not complete the work…the anticipatory breach. A breach of contract is one of the most common causes of law suits for damages and/or court-ordered “specific performance" of the contract.”

“This is almost too perfect.” Mr Osman was resolute in his decision, it genuinely made him happy.

“And…your plan?” Oria asked plain and simple.

“TCK will not have a job by the end of the working day; there is nothing that can prevent this court order from going through. Nothing.”

Oria and Mr Osman departed on good terms with Oria, after sharing one more drink with him. He returned home and Mr Osman sat in contemplation for the rest of the evening in front of the television, he had filed the court order with the right legal parties and any moment now TCK was going to get the order in his office to depart immediately. All Osman was waiting for was the phone-call to tell him the good news. About quarter to nine in the evening the night before Infinity #5 he got the phone-call, but he was surprised when it was Oria Valquist calling him instead of the courts judge.

“Oria…how are you this evening, only good news I hope.” Mr Osman hoped for.

“Oz, don’t get mad with what I am about to tell you. I went to personally hand TCK the court order, something happened when we was there. He was waiting for us; he had an iron clad contract stating that he is next in line to face Neal Powers for the Purity Championship on tomorrow’s show. We had to throw out the charges against him.”

“What the…how…the…Oria I swear to god you better have some answers for me.” Mr Osman’s foul tempered mood returned, everything he had worked for, ruined.

“He won the Infinity City poll for recommending our senior referee…the Copycat now has free reign to pick the ringmaster of Infinity Wrestling; I wish the news could be better.” Oria said, and then he hung up. Even he didn’t want to incur the wrath of his good friend, or find out what he had to say.

Mr Osman was left contemplating, but now for different reasons. This time his choice to drink was voluntary, the one chance he had to remove the biggest thorn in his side brought to an abrupt end. Osman thought Telis Reye would never get a single vote in any Infinity poll, he thought it was a joke. But now the times had changed, and Telis Reye was the senior official…and the man who put him on the pedestal…The Copycat Kid…was no free to roam, and make one final effort to prove that he was the character of infinite possibilities. The upcoming match with Neal Powers wasn’t the source of his anger and frustration; it was because he hated himself for a decision he made when Infinity started. Osman signed on TCK because he believed the imitation hero was capable to handle anything, and deal with any situation. Osman instantly regretted the decision to allow TCK leadership of Infinity, his confidence in TCK to defeat Neal Powers was the source of his anger. One match would lead to many more, and then to greater horizons, golden horizons. Mr Osman now needed a new plan. 

ACT III – The Jameson Harmony Kid, The Blood Family Kid

The Jameson Kid was in the centre of the Infinity Arena, the heart of the Infinity City, slap bang in the centre of the iconic ring. Alone, and dressed in the imitation of Mr Entertainment James Jameson…the close rival and current Harmony Champion, the implication of The Jameson Kid imitation was used to ground a character using metaphorical references to compare and contrast a character to their background to highlight the man making the case, in this one it was the imitator himself. He had a replica of the Harmony Championship with him, perhaps the second belt that rightfully belonged with Jordan Casanova…perhaps not, perhaps like him it was only an imitation copy…like the real, but much different.

Not a single word was heard by another soul, the imitation hero was in his ring, and in the building he helped craft with his own fractured mind in the dream of infinity possibilities. He was purity in the City, its architect, and everything true for what it stood for.

“Neal Powers…now there’s a name we can talk about for hours, the man behind the Blood Family currently running amok in Infinity. The mob looking for its territorial nesting grounds, the place to store their guns, and their growing numbers. You know, I remember the old Neal Powers as something much different entirely, before Blood Family, the man who never held a single UBW title…the one who refused to leave the premises of UBW over the War At The Rumble crisis, so embattled and in belief that he was one of the many unintentionally harmed…like genuinely innocent people who are actually willing to hurt other innocent to prove their innocence, I know, how confusing, but so true. Neal was just, well, Neal…nothing wrong, but not bad about him either. He faded in and out, had his moments, and lived among what was the best of the best. And now we have this Neal, hungry, and driven…like a super villain with a new dastardly plan to take over the world, I like this Neal. He now tells the Battle Zone Network where to shove their papers, and knows how to put such talented stars such as Matt Rydell and Craig Anderson on the verge of jobbers pit…we haven’t seen that kind of ruthless domination in the path of success since…dare I say it, Aaron Destiny. So power hungry, he, like Aaron, had a group committed to taking over everything, he had many, he aligned himself as their leader to be the greatest of what was known as second generation…triumphant, and still triumphant…like great products and brands that will always be around. Microsoft, Colgate, Cadbury’s chocolate, toilet paper, bottled water, and the giant Coca Cola. Some of these things are nice and simple because they are nice and simple…no complications. We are still here, and we have all changed, and Neal’s change has been like that of our current world champions…formerly never thought good enough to hold the top tier belt…but suddenly, give the man enough hunger, passion, and ability, and he can achieve anything. Neal sits on a bloody throne, one step away from the great golden chalice that exists in purgatory. Neal Powers resembles the essence of Destiny, a man whose gimmick revolved around darkness, brutality…and truth. Neal, like Aaron…was a man faced with the reality of evil, and accepted it into his life’s path to cross through the eternal gate to fate. Neal is one step away from his should-be Bebomania moment, the crown everyone sought. He is the Joker plotting his final move to kill the Batman, the African dictator planning one final barbaric genocide of his people, the antihero Sting in a WCW. Baseball bat and all. Neal’s Power is absolute; he is everything we need him to be.

What I…want him to be.

Powerful…strong…pure.

Neal resembled what was once greatness, the must see asset on television. He may have his Blood Family, on his search for the illusive gate to fate. Question is…for him to answer…is whether or not the imitation hero has already crossed through for himself, into the void, where purity was born, where harmony was born, to a place that transcended him. What if the foundation of the Infinity City was built upon the bricks of something much more than an idea, a hope and dream, what we see to believe is only half the story. What if everything had been built from the same inevitability that everyone once knew as…fate?”

Xoxo

ACT IV – Calm the Fire

00:30 at the Infinity Harbour was cold in November. The air was light, but seen through the exhalation of air. Damien Muir was dressed in a long brown coat, fedora style ash coloured hat, and gloves that covered everything but his fingers. He stood motionless and saw a man in a leather jacket with messy brown hair looking deep into the water, the skinny jeans and tattoos made it a dead giveaway that it was his nephew, Murray Muir. As Damien approached Murray who was leaning over the rail in silent thought he spoke to Damien, and after he listened properly he didn’t know if this was shock or surprise overcoming him at once.

“I feel guilty for Frank, for what I did.” Murray said warm heartedly.

Murray turned around, and to the surprise, and shock, of Murray. The battered and dimpled faced Murray was absent. In his place a man of perfect complexion sporting light stubble and the purple eyes that made Murray so infamous.

“For Christ’s sake you again,” Damien Muir said with ample surprise. “How do you keep getting me to meet you like this?” Damien asked as he looked the synthetic Muir in the fake eye.

“This is no act. And this is my City.” The imitation Murray replied.

“Where is Murray?” Damien then replied, thinking his real nephew could be in some kind of real danger. Wouldn’t have been the first time he’d have got a similar call to a quiet location, tricked into believing Murray was actually going to be there.

“Safe, as usual. I took care of the original copy after the encounter at Immortalis. His form, our form, ascended in the City. He made as a great sacrifice in the display of infinite possibilities. You should be so bloody proud of me right now.” The parody version had Murray’s same tone, and poor etiquette for the English language.

“You?!” Damien bellowed, now frustrated.

“Whose else is here to thank? I saved our jobs, our bloody places in the train-wreck of a City. Some gratitude wouldn’t be hard to give…but do not misinterpret my kindness as fucking weakness, uncle.” The imposter Murray gave chills down Damien’s back.

Murray puts on a set on dusters whilst he had his hands inside his pockets, in case TCK blew like he did with Murray at Immortalis. No member of the Muir family will ever learn to trust a member of the initiative that has been the brainchild of these great places and federations, it started with UIBW and now Infinity. He recognises that the imitator in particular, the one also behind the crazed menace that was Destiny was even less trustworthy than Robert Stevens, bless his soul. Did the death drive the Copycat into denial, into overdrive to ignore the casualty that occurred? He didn’t say any of to his face but Damien was thinking it, but couldn’t risk an attack by TCK. He instead kept on track with the conversation, not to give anything away.

“The real Murray is no ‘original copy’…listen to yourself Copycat…your delusion, you are more haunted than I first ever imagined. Murray, my real nephew was right about you. You’re nothing inside, he called you fucked up and I’d always seen it in you, how long will this masquerade go on before we see what hides behind the façade of limitless costumes and phoney persona’s.” Damien said in anger, but also in pity of the Infinity COO who had no real identity of his own, like the water over the harbour it was cold, meaningless, and empty. Only reflections were cast when you looked into it, he could see why the Copycat came here to meet with him.

Damien cautiously walked towards ‘Murray’; he gripped the dusters in his pocket tightly and saw the twinkle of the purple eye, a fake purple eye. There was tension on Damien’s end of things, but not the imitators, he was calm and composed. Damien knew why TCK was going ahead with this plan for Purity…in anticipation for his battle with Neal Powers…TCK saw Murray as a symbol of purity in the Infinity City, something different that it needed. Perhaps this was a blessing for his nephew, a way to immortalise him.

“What do you see in the water, Murray?” He addressed his question to the part of TCK that was in his imitative mode.

“A reflection of my own, the mirror image of what it will take to become the Purity Champion. That bastard Neal Powers contains not a single ounce of Purity in his body; his ideal is to dominate, by his hand alone. He’s a fucking idiot if he believes he can stop me, or us.” ‘Murray’ replied sincerely, and hopefully.

“What is your plan for Telis Reye?” Damien then asked. Obviously the Copycat had a plan, maybe he’d use Telis as the next stage of a much greater plan.

“He will be there for this City; he’ll have a part to play.” He replied, turning to face the water once more. Looking down at his reflection.

Damien felt something off about this setting; he felt another presence lingering nearby. He swiftly turned around and saw a hulking seven foot framed man staring at him. He was masked; his black scraggy hair was draped over one shoulder. This was Panik, and he was wearing a long black leather coat with tears all over it, but then again he was entirely cast into shadow from the lights behind him. Only an eerie white silhouette highlighted the colossal figure that put Damien on edge.

“He isn’t here to attack us.” The imitation hero tried to put Damien’s mind at rest, the Boss took out the knuckle duster.

TCK knew that the Blood Family were going to

“You can never be too sure!” Damien stood with his arm stretched out, like an animal making itself bigger to intimidate their pursuing predator.

“I can see now that those were not intended for the Blood Family.” The Copycat said of Murray’s choice of weapon.

“Then you know why I can never trust you, Copycat. Your blend of chaos has only brought me and my family ruin.” Damien defended his decision to come armed, still weary that Panik had not said a single word yet.

“Calm down Damo, the Panik before you is under orders. Neal doesn’t want to make an example of me just yet; I brought you here to show you the true underbelly of the City, and the type of war we are fighting. Powers wants an audience for my ritual execution, and this is one of the last places he will find one, his illustration of power depends on recognition…and that is why I idolize your nephew, old friend. Murray is pure; he doesn’t need the judgment of others to be something that we all need.” TCK said, and this time there was no accent, no gimmick, he spoke to Damien as the infinity COO, an uncharacteristic break from his usual demeanour.

Panik remained in place, as he addressed Damien Muir first. “Citizen of the City, move aside so I can address the brainchild of this domain.”

Damien moved begrudgingly to the side so Panik had a direct line of sight for the Infinity Coo who still had his back turned to the Blood Family’s right arm.

Panik continued speaking, his voice malevolent and focused, with ample confidence in his chosen words. “You’ve chosen a battle eclipsing even yourself, until this point our paths have not crossed within Infinity, and master Powers has his concerns over the intent of Telis Reye.  Your symbolism is strange, but one we can understand. We know that your greatest strength is your absence of personality. Copycat, you are of but spirit and ghost, hollow. You’ll cling to the essence of life and feast upon it; you are a parasite living off the success of others. The taste of pure blood on your lips will change you, the flavour will overwhelm you and make you sick…you’ll finally be defeated by your own insatiable lust to consume the world around you. No amount of help can calm the fire of my family, until the hollow void of your existence is filled with a palate of red, wholesome purity.”

Panik turned around and disappeared into the night. He was not seen again by the eyes of the Infinity COO until the main event of Infinity #5. Damien released the grip on his knuckle duster and placed it on his pocket as he walked over to TCK who had allowed Panik to relay his message without retaliation. Muir placed his hands around the cold railings; the fingertips of his hands were freezing cold to the touch.

“If my nephew is threatened because of your decision to emulate him then I will be coming for you, and next time a duster is the last thing I’ll bring.” Damien warned TCK, protecting his family.

“Murray will be fine, like the blood family he relishes the chance to perpetuate violence through bloodshed.” TCK replied.

“You really don’t like the Blood Family, do you?” Damien wanted to understand TCK’s strange behaviour. He would get his answer, and be surprised by it.

“Neal has no interest in peace, he has sights higher than the red shield, and it is his passageway to the golden throne. I fear Adrian Flynn is too far from being the Hero needed to stop this family. Neal Powers will trigger an even greater problem with the BZN, one that I cannot stop. I am all that stands between this City and its bloody demise.”

Damien stood with The Copycat Kid looking into the reflection of the water, so calming and dark it was soothing and made them at peace. Damien had no answer for TCK, just acceptance that Copycat was not the man everyone made him out to be. One day the world would be there to find out what was below the water, just like the pure indiscriminate reflection staring him back in the face the imitation hero was only ever interpreted on the smallest skin deep level. What lies beneath frightened him, if there was anything there to begin with.

Ended.