Riot 1/12 - MAIN EVENT - D. Russow vs. C. Page

Riot 1/12 - MAIN EVENT - D. Russow vs. C. Page Jan 7, 2023 5:36:30 GMT -5

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Post by ccp on Jan 7, 2023 5:36:30 GMT -5

Wednesday, January 4, 2023
Page-Wolf Estate, Las Vegas, Nevada

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“Are you packed?”

The soft, sweet tone of Candice Wolf-Page opens our scene at the Page-Wolf Estate on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Nevada as we see Candice zipping up her suitcase on top of the king-sized bed next to Chris’s empty bag.

CANDICE WOLF PAGE: CHRIS!?!?!

Sweet tone is gone as Candice screams out for her husband's attention.

CHRIS PAGE: I’m coming, I’m coming.

Chris Page enters the bedroom of the hallway in a white tank top and black gym shorts to see Candice standing in front of his empty suitcase on the bed. Her arms are crossed across her chest while in a red silk robe secured loosely around her waist with a not-too-pleased look in her eyes.

CHRIS PAGE: Uh oh.

I know that fucking look. My bride is not to be trifled with.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: I mean, aren’t we supposed to be heading to Ireland?

Candice asks with intent in her tone.

CHRIS PAGE: Well, yeah.

Before Chris can go any further Candice asks.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: It requires a suitcase to be packed, you know this… right?

Chris giggles under his breath causing Candice to respond.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: I don’t see anything funny about you not being ready to go.

CHRIS PAGE: Babe, the show isn’t for another week.

The response has Candice uncross her arms while asking.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: You told me Thursday.

CHRIS PAGE: I told you next Thursday, the 12th.

A sly smirk appears on the face of CCP as he then continues.

CHRIS PAGE: We are leaving in three days; now I know I’ve been known to procrastinate but damn! I didn’t know I needed to be ready this far in advance.

I’m sure there might be a few of you that have fucking clue who I am or what kind of weight I carry, shame on you, yet this seems about just as good of a time as any to introduce myself to those unfamiliar. Throughout 2022 I’m the guy that traveled across the entire industry because owners of companies know who the real needle mover in the business is. I’m the guy that has headlined or been in a featured spot on every Supershow card that’s been put together since February of last year. I’m the guy that has made a career out of being one of the more controversial talents around, and I’m the guy that started CCPE by bringing the best of the best that have laced boots together and continued the very domination across the globe that I started. I’ve kicked off two successful podcasts with Down The Rabbit Hole and Smoke Sessions. I’m married to arguably a gal that is equally as successful with the Velvet Rabbits in Manhattan, Las Vegas, and Greece in Candice Wolf-Page, and when it comes to dirty words known as “lists” I’m ranked as an MVP and a Universal Talent. Oh yeah, did I mention I run my federation too?

My name is Chris Page.

For thirty-two years I’ve been a part of professional wrestling starting at the bottom and working my way to the top where I’ve stood on this mountain for twenty of those glorious years. I exude confidence with every step I take while looking for that one moment of weakness to pound like a tiger stalking its prey in the deepest, darkest part of the jungle. I’ve never been accused of being a nice guy between those ropes, or in this instance in this Pub, and honestly can give two flying fucks who will be standing across from me because the result was never in question the mere moment I struck pen to paper and made Star Stormz the happiest little lady on the planet. I’ll be the first to admit that I was wondering what took her so long to pick up that phone and make that call? Maybe it’s because I don’t show up for cheap? Maybe it’s because of the reputation that I carry behind that curtain, or maybe she was just out of the loop for the last sixteen months when I single-handedly transformed our industry.

Alas, here we are.

The contract is signed.

The private jet is full.

Dublin, Ireland is the destination.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Hmmm.

CHRIS PAGE: I don’t blame you for getting ancy when you really sit back and think about just how busy we’ve both been over the last several months with the Rabbit Greece on your side of the coin and the relaunch of the WGWF and getting through the first Pay-Per-View event.

We consider ourselves as Professional Wrestling’s power couple. You’ll be hard-pressed to find another couple that has opened so many doors for so many people in our outside adventures. We’ve both found our shares of success, and we’re both looked at in high regard, but the reality is we both get each other. It’s a rare trait, truly.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Well damn.

CHRIS PAGE: It’s nothing to get bent about, babe. We have plenty of time.

____________________

I would say that I know everything there is to know about you, Daniel. The little research I’ve done on you and your background tells me everything that I need to know. They say how you’re raised as a kid turns you into what you’ve become as an adult. Growing up in the foster system is never easy… but neither is fucking life. You’re not the first that I’ve tangled with that’s had a shitty childhood and that very childhood turned them into monsters. But I hate to be the bearer of bad news… While growing up in the system is pretty shitty, so is being thrown to the great white shark who roams the Professional Wrestling waters and happens to go by the name of Chris Page.

Let me be clear.

Do I think this is going to be a walk in the park? Absolutely not.

Guys like you who get opportunities to stand opposite Legendary Icons such as myself means that you’re putting the petal to the metal and going full speed ahead because if you’re a smart guy you know this opportunity doesn’t come around every fucking day. My mere presence alone is enough to drive the very best out of anyone I’m dealing with, and you sir, you’re not going to be an exception as long as you don’t shit the bed or crumble under the pressure to deliver like so many others who found themselves in the very same spot as you do now.

Growing up might have been the drizzling shits, fighting Chris Page is a thousand times worse.

… and that’s what this is, it’s a fight.

There isn’t going to be any catch-as-catch-can style of moves, no instant classic that I’m accustomed to drawing anytime my name appears on the marquee. It’s going to be a goddamn war the mere moment that referee calls for the fight to begin. I will be all over you like a freaking spider monkey, like white on rice, like stank on shit, kid. I was winning World Titles when you were growing pubs, I was headlining Madison Square Garden, the Tokyo Dome, O2 Arena, and all points in between while you were losing your discovering the female body, and I’ve wasted more money on spilled liquor than you’ve made in your career.

When Chris Page comes to town the WORLD knows that the straw that stirs the drink has just hit town.

We’re going to find out just how much of a fight you’ve got in you, aren’t we?

____________________

Friday, January 6, 2023
Final approach, Dublin, Ireland

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

The scene opens aboard one of CCP’s private jets…

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Candice lays on the couch watching re-runs of Reno 9-1-1 while Chris sits in the connected chair smoking a blunt while answering a few last-minute text messages.

CHRIS PAGE: How the fuck did I let you talk me into coming to Ireland a week early?

Candice tilts her head from the television over to Chris where she looks him in the eyes, and without saying a word while flashing a seductive smile Chris simply nods his head in approval.

CHRIS PAGE: Never mind, I remember.

Chris passes the blunt over to Candice when over the sound system a voice from the pilot is heard breaking in.

“We are on our final approach, Mr. Page. Please fasten your seatbelts.”

Chris fastens his across his waist while Candice gets up from a laying position and buckles a belt built into the leather couch. Candice takes a pull from the blunt as she asks.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: I never asked why you got involved in a Pub Brawl.

CHRIS PAGE: It wasn’t my choice, I assure you… but it turns out I’m still a pretty hot commodity. Apex Star Stormz made the overture, coughed up the cheddar, and alas we are here.

The reality of the situation is more in tune with giving back to a profession that has given me so much over the last three decades. I was always a big fish in a small pond before I broke out and changed the narrative of what it means to be a traveling commodity in our industry. Not everybody can maintain the tireless schedule of making sometimes up to four towns a week, not everybody can deal with the pressure that comes along with backing your play because, in our line of work, it’s EASY to claim to be the best… it’s a horse of a different color to step out and bet on yourself. I bet on myself and hit the goddamn jackpot.

But now I must do it all over again.

Every organization is different as the landscape changes seemingly on a daily basis.

CHRIS PAGE: We are walking into a Main Event in a company I’ve never competed in.

Stormz is smart.

CHRIS PAGE: Against a chap that I’ve only gotten a little bit of information on but enough to do some damage with.

Candice hits the blunt once again before passing it to Chris. The jet is heard touching down upon the runway as the loud scraping of the tires striking the asphalt is audible.

CHRIS PAGE: But the biggest reason I elected to take this on was to get a free vacation for you.

Chris hits the blunt, inhaling deeply while making eye contact with Candice and giving her a wink.

CHRIS PAGE: Truth is between the Rabbit on your side and the WGWF, CCPE, and CCPE vs The World event at the end of the month we’ve both been burning the candles at both ends. I didn’t expect you to convince me to come this early, but you and your witchy ways.

A sly smirk from Chris as the private jet coasts to a stop.

CHRIS PAGE: I figured since we’re here early we could scout some Pubs to get the lay of the land. I’m not a huge fan of walking into a situation unprepared.

It’s like the ears of a dog shooting straight up in the air from Candice upon hearing Chris’s last sentence.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

CHRIS PAGE: I think I am saying what you think I think I said.

There is a moment of silence before Candice throws her arms and hands up in the air while screaming out at the top of her lungs causing Chris to jump back into his seat. Suddenly the side door to Chris’s jet opens and is flooded by eight automatic weapon-toting individuals with black tactical gear, helmets with tinted lens with guns pointed at Professional Wrestling’s power couple. Candice’s arms are up and so are Chris’s, burning blunt in his left hand. The figures create a path for two middle-aged white gentlemen to board the jet; both in suits with black vests covering their white dress shirts.

“Chris Page?”

Both of the gentlemen pivot their eyes to the burning blunt in Chris’s left hand.

“My name is Declan James and my partner’s name is Liam Cain. We represent Interpol, and I think it’s safe to say that you will be coming with us.”

Declan states with a thick Irish accent as one of the gunmen motions for him to stand. Chris slowly unbuckles his belt with his right hand and begins to get out of his seat. Chris then asks while still holding the blunt.

CHRIS PAGE: Can I at least hit it one more time?

___________________

For fifteen years you’ve been lacing those boots and trying to create an epic moment that you can look back upon and remind yourself of the time that you made it. That time is here and now if it hasn’t hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. What I don’t want you to do is fool yourself into thinking that you can outfight me. Sure, I’m an old fuck, but I would like to direct you to my past over the last year. I spent four months training myself for the biggest Deathmatch of my career back at the Cannabis Cup; I was smacked with light tubes, set on fire, put through glass tables, shed buckets of blood, and yet when the smoke cleared and the dust settled the old fuck was left standing.

I pride myself on outwrestling the younger generation while making it look easy.

… but this old dog has plenty of new tricks when it comes to a no holds barred throwdown like we are walking into come Riot.

Any and everything inside the Pub that’s not nailed down is going to be used as an instrument of destruction. Nah man, it’s not going to be easy by any means for either of us. What it’s going to boil down to is who is willing to sacrifice the most, who can absorb the pain and suffering, and who is going to dig down to the deepest, darkest places when it matters. Well, if you’re a betting man… the smart money is on yours truly.

____________________

Saturday, January 6, 2023
Garda Síochána Headquarters, Dublin, Ireland

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Candice was leaning back against the passenger side door of a black limousine parked outside the Interpol Headquarters in Dublin, Ireland at the Garda Síochána with her eyes directed at a blue door on the front side of the building that swings open where a completely disheveled Chris Page emerges with his white dress shirt half untucked and misbuttoned, his luscious locks in need of some serious attention, his dress slacks have rips on each leg in various parts. Candice lowers her Gucci shades on the brim of her nose.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: What the hell did they do to you in there?

She asks upon Chris’s slow approach that is only rivaled by that of a walk of shame.

CHRIS PAGE: Don’t ask.

Chris responds as he walks through the black gate and to the street side where Candice raises her shades back up over her eyes.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Do you at least know who was responsible for trying to drop the dime on you?

Chris finally reaches his wife when he answers.

CHRIS PAGE: I do.

Chris firmly states while opening the door to the limo and getting inside. He is followed by Candice who gives one more turn toward the Interpol Dublin Headquarters giving it the middle finger and then follows Page inside where she closes the door behind her. We fade into the back of the limo where we find Chris running his left hand over the top of his scalp through what was once a gorgeous mane.

CHRIS PAGE: They legitimately thought that I was smuggling weed into Dublin. I’m like dude, why smuggle what’s readily available? That’s just fucking stupid.

Chris rolls his eyes at the mere thought of the outlandish allegations while he continues.

CHRIS PAGE: They held me until they searched every inch of our jet and when they came up empty they were forced to release me.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Where the hell did they have you? You look like shit.

Chris turns his body toward Candice, pushing himself back up against the back driver’s side door as he overdramatically responds.

CHRIS PAGE: Babe it was terrible! It was a small, cramped, hole-in-the-wall holding cell with no shower, one toilet that I wouldn’t take a shit sitting on if my life depended on it, absolutely NO TV, no cell phone, ZERO communication with the outside world!

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: That sounds horrible!

CHRIS PAGE: Yeah, it was a holding cell.

Chris starts to ease his back off the door and he starts to get himself together.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Who on earth would want to put you through something like that?

I mean, if we’re being honest, probably half of our industry. It’s not a huge secrete that I haven’t made a lot of friends throughout my career, but I’ll take solace in the fact that the friends I do have will kick your friend's asses any day of the week… twice on Sunday. The list of peeps scorned is five miles long, but ask me if I give two shits? Ask me if I allow the negativity from bitter talents that WISH they have the clout that I carry with just a wave of my index finger. For fucks sake I sit at the table of the Professional Wrestling Illuminati for fucks sake!

I’m unkillable.

CHRIS PAGE: You’d think that it might have been that bitter fuck Theo Pryce, or maybe it could have been Griffin Hawkins or any of twenty different people all looking for an axe to grind… but it wasn’t.

Candice quickly follows up with suspense echoing in her tone.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Well? Who was it?!?!?

CHRIS PAGE: Someone with the last name of Russow, that’s all I overheard.

Candice follows up while connecting the dots.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Wait.

She pauses.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Aren’t you supposed to be fighting someone with that same last name?

Candice inquires which brings a wink from Chris Page followed by.

CHRIS PAGE: Hit the nail on the head.

I’m not going to say that it was you, Daniel. I do find it awful to suspect that someone with an identical last name would try to not only embarrass me but force me to sit in conditions that are anything less than five stars! Do you know WHO THE FUCK I AM!?!?!?! Just for argument's sake, we’re going to pretend that it wasn’t anyone you know or even you… That doesn’t mean that I can’t pretend. That doesn’t mean that I can’t use it to further fuel the passion and desire to show up on your turf, in your company, to kick your ass six ways from Sunday to the degree that the old man that abandoned you as an infant will wish he wore a goddamn rubber. I don’t take too kindly to being forced into living conditions better suited for someone like you let alone allowing you to ride my coattails to a Main Event slot in your own company. Now is the time that I step up to the plate and show you and everyone else in PWS-Apex why I am who I am!

CHRIS PAGE: The truth is it could have been anyone because I just overheard it. I’m so heated that we lost a day.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: I know something that will cheer you up.

Chris makes an awkward facial expression while exclaiming.

CHRIS PAGE: EW! Not until I shower. I have to wash the poverty off me.

Candice snatches her shades from her face while Chris snickers under his breath in a feeble attempt to play off the statement.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: First and foremost if I want it you’re going to give it to me, secondly, you’re lucky that wasn’t what I was suggesting.

A state of confusion graces the face of Chris as he inquires.

CHRIS PAGE: What are you suggesting? Do I even want to know?

An evil smirk graces the face of Candice Wolf-Page.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Aren’t you involved in a Pub Brawl?

Reluctantly Chris answers.

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Do you happen to know which one?

The reluctance on deepens with Chris’s tone as he answers.

CHRIS PAGE: No.

The mystery is still in question as to the battlefield that has been selected for this battle to commence. I’m sure the secrecy is in question because I’m not going to lie, if I knew I’d be doing some scouting.

CANDICE WOLF-Page: Well then… I know what we HAVE to do.

Candice lowers the privacy window gaining the attention of the driver.

“Yes, mam?”

CANDICE WOLF-PAGE: Two words.

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____________________

The time is drawing upon us, Mr. Russow.

How does it feel knowing the sand in your hourglass is running out? There is nothing I like more than embarrassing talents on their own turf. I hope that I’ve gotten not only yours but the rest of the roster. What’s to stop me from coming back? What’s to stop me from not only punking out this bastard but setting my sights on something a bit more tangible? I’ve always been the kind of guy that sinks his teeth into shiny gold belts; currently, I’ve got a collection going, and it’s always looking for some more company.

… I’m not saying I’ll do it by any means, I’m saying the opportunity might present itself.

Gotta crawl before you walk, right?

I have my incentives. The only thing I’m waiting for is the word to throw hands.

___________________

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