Zombie vs Ricky Stanton

Off-Camera
Pellegrini House
New Orleans, LA

In the kitchen behind her, Agata Morielaz is in the kitchen taking the lasagna out of the oven and putting in garlic bread. Upstairs, we can hear Essential Carbajal and Valerie Morielaz giggling about something or another. Wendy Pellegrini is sitting in the living room, wireless keyboard on her lap, mouse on the arm of the chair, watching the Prison Break Match between Ricky Stanton and Solomon Cain from Mile High Spectacular 2 when Lexa Pellegrini walks in the door with their son J, J carrying a box all excited.

J: ZomMom! ZomMom!
Wendy Pellegrin: What’s up, little buddy?
J: Mom says your wedding pictures came in. Can we look at them?
Lexa Pellegrini: Why don’t you wash up first? Grandma made lasagna and it’s ready. Then we can look at the pictures together with Aunt Val.
J: Okay, Mom. Shall I let Val and Essie know about dinner? I know to knock first.

Wendy almost spits her drink out from laughing as Lexa goes red before hugging him.

Lexa Pellegrini: Go ahead and get them.
Agata Morielaz: What funny?
Wendy Pellegrin: Remember when I was with Colin years ago and you…

Agata closes her eyes and taps the edge of the counter, shaking her head, cursing in Italian under her breath.

Agata Morielaz: Say no more.
Wendy Pellegrin: He didn’t see anything like you did, but he had questions. Since then, he’s learned to knock before entering anywhere. Poor boy.

After a wonderful family dinner of lasagna, garlic bread and wine, and the dishes being cleaned in the dishwasher, everybody came to the living room and sat around a large square coffee table. J wanted to help unbox the album and a USB key so they would have a digital backup of everything. Agata sat in her favorite armchair, Val and Essentia on the floor opposite the couch, as Wendy and Lexa sat on the couch with J on the floor between them. Wendy traced a finger over the album cover, noticing both white lace and purple silk.

Wendy Pellegrin: Is this made from our dresses?
Lexa Pellegrini: Yep, I sent them swatches from both dresses to make the cover.
Wendy Pellegrin: It’s beautiful, babe. I think that’s one touch I’ll always remember, holding you in that dress when we had our first dance. It was a truly perfect moment.

Lexa leaned against Wendy’s arm, rubbing it.

Lexa Pellegrini: I do wish people saw this side of you more often.

As Lexa opened the cover, the first picture is the two of them showing off their rings as they kissed one another. Under their hands, J stood between them in his suit and mini leather jacket.

Lexa Pellegrini: I absolutely love this picture. And look how handsome our little man is!
J: Maybe I can be a Chrome Dragon someday.
Wendy Pellegrin: We’ll see. Mom isn’t a Shieldmaiden, though she gets special status being with me. Who knows, you get big and strong, and you just might.

Other pictures of the ceremony fill the next couple of pages until they get to the guest pictures. First one they see is Val and Essentia.

Valerie Morielaz: Look at my baby all cleaned up and prettified.
Essential Carbajal: I can say the same about you, mi amor.
Valerie Morielaz: You could, I love hearing it with a Colombian accent.
Essential Carbajal: Eres hermosa y te amo.

Valerie makes a show of melting into the floor as Essentia laughs at her before tickling her.

J: Aunt Val is silly.
Wendy Pellegrin: I think we all have our moments. Oh look, it’s Alejandra, Jackie and Angel. Definitely something in the water with you Carbajal girls.
Essential Carbajal: We are blessed, yes. You guys were as well, two generations at least.
J: Oh, I remember Jack. She’s small like me and Aunt Max.
Lexa Pellegrini: Speaking of Aunt Max…

The next page had more photos. Katrina Knox and Aoife Maguire, Becca and Saorise Maguire, Samantha Hamilton and Joseph Hunter, Maxine Pellegrini, and including one Wendy didn’t realize had been taken.

Wendy Pellegrin: Hey Moma, wanna explain this one?

Wendy holds the book up, and we see a picture of Agata in the arms of Wendy’s trainer and mentor, Anthony Scoletti.

Agata Morielaz: Never you mind. Tony was perfect gentleman that night, and we talk about me going up to New York soon to see him.
Wendy Pellegrin: You know what, Moma, you should go. I trust Tony completely, he was a friend of Dad’s, he took me under his wing. If any two people deserve each other more, it’s the two of you.
Agata Morielaz: Grazie Wendy. Penso che andrò a vederlo. Mi manca anche New York.
Wendy Pellegrin: I know you do, Moma.

When they turned the page, they came to a picture of Aerynn and Shonn Maguire. Wendy closed her eyes and laid her head back on the couch and bit her lip.

Essential Carbajal: What’s wrong, hermana?
Lexa Pellegrini: It’s Chaos and Malleus. We have the last-known picture of them together.
Agata Morielaz: Is that two that… Sono morti, vero?
Wendy Pellegrin: Sì. Invasione domestica.
J: I saw them leave early. She said she had to take care of something.

Wendy lifts her head and looks at J.

Wendy Pellegrin: You… what now?
J: Mmhmm. Aerynn was saying she hoped her twins grew up to be polite like me, then Shonn? Got a call on his phone, and then they left quickly.
Wendy Pellegrin: Did they say where?
J: Nope, just said for me to tell you congratulations and she’d see you soon, but something came up. Said something about children and left.

Wendy gets up and starts looking for her phone.

Lexa Pellegrini: Everything okay?
Wendy Pellegrin: Gotta call Bullet.



On-Camera
Zombie Compound
New Orleans, LA

Wendy Pellegrini is sitting on the edge of her weight bench, the bar holding about 400 pounds on its stands, toweling off from her workout. Her wife, Lexa, as always, films the workouts and the promos when Wendy decides to speak. It’s been a form of therapy for her. Use the anger to fuel her workouts, and use the repetitions to formulate her thoughts. She looks up at the camera and smiles at Lexa before looking at the camera, her mood sarcastic.

“Pretty. Ricky. Stanton. Or should I call you Pretty Ridiculous Standards because in all the time I’ve had the chance to get to know of you, you seem to lead a double life. Not as the ex-wrestler and now-CEO. No no no, more like the guy who tries to throw money at his problems to avoid having to deal with them, and the perennial loser when he has to get physical. Now, before you start puffing up your chest, rippling those abs, let’s look at the facts, shall we?

Let’s start with one Trent Forge Mitchell, hmm? You remember Forge, right? I’ll jog your memory, he was the guy you tried to step up to when your client couldn’t control her mouth. You got challenged to a match, you tried to buy Forge off, tried suckerpunching him and failing, and when the two of you ended up in a cage together, well I recall it was FORGE who won. That was your FIRST match in Mile High and you know, I watched it, I can tell you used to have more movement. You were clunky, a lot less fluid, and you came up short.”

Wendy gets up from the bench and starts taping up her wrists and fists.

“A year later, somewhat similar situation, this time with Solomon Cain. Someone who should have been an easier opponent, and Cain don’t take that as an insult. You tortured the man for weeks, tried to break the dog down and bring out some sort of demon. Was that supposed to be a heel turn? Didn’t you learn from Sam Hamilton about how these things could backfire on you? Thing is, you threw everything you had at Cain, even gave Cain the ability to choose the match, and you ended up in a literal prison, and at the end of the night, just like the year prior, you came up short again.”

Wendy walks over to a free-standing dummy, the top of it is an armless torso and on its head is a Ricky Stanton rubber mask. Even the shoulder had Sharpie marks on it to demonstrate Ricky’s tattoos, and from the way it was drawn, it was her son, J, who was responsible for the artwork. Wendy points at the shoulder, and we can hear Lexa from behind the camera laughing.
“Maybe you should have listened to your daughter… Justinia is it? And yet, you didn’t. Hell Osiris tried to knock some sense into you and you STILL had to believe you were this wrestling god who can beat anyone, own anyone, and yet now, here you are, zero and two in Mile High Wrestling. Tell me, Wrestling God, if I were to research your entire ten-year career, how many times will I have seen this same pattern come from you? Hmm?

When the FUCK are you going to get that you are not only PAST your prime, you never HAD a prime to pass?”

Lexa sees the look in her wife’s face and steps back as Wendy starts striking and kicking the Ricky dummy, with the last kick kicking the mask off the dummy and sending it flying.

“I’m getting this sense that you do the occasional wrestling fire for shits and giggles. You want to see how many buttons you can push for your own amusement. You did it to Forge, you did it to Cain, and you’ve been trying to do it to me. Notice how, unlike them, I’m NOT insulting you, Stanton? Ever wondered why?

It’s because I play the game better than you do. You keep drawing fire out of me to make a buck off of my name. All the while, any anger you draw out, I add it to how I can fuck with Tyke Index. Oh wait, you don’t know about that, do you? Of course not, you’re too busy with all these offices around the world doing whatever business you want people to believe. See, I’m onto you, Ricky.

Let me guess, you have this million-dollar tech company in your back pocket making sure all of the SE systems are safe, right? Problem there is that, with the bullshit you do, sometimes employees from within start seeing how the company is really run and start asking questions. Start thinking MAYBE there is a way to change the company from the inside. Great thing about the Shieldmaidens, we have contacts of our own who may or may not be working with one of your many employees as we speak. And do you think we will find? Money always comes from somewhere, Ricky, and it is never unlimited.

In layman's terms, Dick, I could potentially own YOU.”

Wendy kicks the dummy again, knocking it on its side before mounting it and slugging it a few times before getting up.

“Now, the world knows how you work, so let me enlighten you on how I work. I’m giving you a freebie here, pay attention. Let’s talk about Tyke Index, former HCW Champion, lost to a rookie in her debut match with Mile High. That rookie… is me. I’ve been in the business for a few years, but never in a company of this caliber until May of this year, so as of today, STILL hasn’t even been six months. Sorry, I probably lost you when I made you cry because I know you’ve never beat Tyke. You tried FOUR. FUCKING. TIMES. Me, I beat him twice.

Now, you know Tyke, the man isn’t very smart, he can be easily manipulated. When he lost to Skrabz the first time, boy got so fucked up, he remembered nothing of the match. Didn’t even realize he lost the Phoenix Championship. So, come the fatal fourway, seeing Tyke, Jansen and Solomon in that ring with me, I made a choice. I was already gunning to take you out at Black Magic, I’m the current reigning and defending ThrowDown Champion, I don’t NEED to face Skrabz right now. Jensen vs Skrabz would have stunk up the joint. Solomon vs Skrabz? Fuck, had you SEEN Solomon lately? I literally watched somebody tie his boots before the match because he was already fucking out of it. Now, I can respect Solomon, and I’m glad he’s getting the help he needs, and he would have stunk up a Skrabz match worse than Jansen.

So I took Jansen out the match, knowing Tyke would defeat Solomon. Tyke won himself a match with the Ultimate Champ one more time. So, how does a challenger get prepared mentally for a World Title match? Momentum. Come to find out Tyke is facing me again. So I got to thinking. I beat Tyke in a buried alive match. I beat Tyke in a tag match, I can’t beat him a third time and break his spirit. I want him bursting with pride as he faces Skrabz. So I went to Coke Mountain, and now Tyke gets to go to Black magic thinking he can do the impossible and beat Skrabz. Meanwhile, we ALL know Skrabz is going to ragdoll him again, and I will laugh and laugh and laugh. And stupid Tyke will be just as gullible, just as malliable mentally that I can rebuild him and send him right back into battle only to fall apart one more time.

And they say Chris Mosh is the Cold Hearted One?”

Wendy smirks as she glared into the camera.

“Ricky, I want you to get a good look at the trail of carnage around me. Tyke Index. Azurine Vebbins. Jensen Myrrh, Solomon Cain, my own sister and current Hardcore Champion Saorise ‘Psycho’ Maguire, Agustin Gates, Carlos Cruz, Raven Trueblood, stomped a mudhole through the lower midcard to get the shot at the very title I hold and elevated, the ThrowDown Championship.

What makes you think YOU can beat me? Experience? I researched you, I know your weakest points. I see the ring rust in you. I noticed you never tried to buy me out. Thing is, you know damn well I and the Shieldmaidens make you the most money in Mile High. Maybe you DID learn something from Sam a year ago in WWO about trying to cross us. And then you go and tow our bikes, screw me out of a battle royal win, put me through an oak table. Maybe the money isn’t there anymore? Or was I not to know that? I mean, I have no knowledge of Stanton Enterprise’s finances, Your Honor.

Until today, I have given you nothing to use against me. Nothing you can factually exploit, and that pisses you off more than anything. You’ve always found ways to gain control over your adversaries, even if you ultimately lose to them in the end because your end game is weak. Forge and Cain might have told you they don’t answer to anyone, but I won’t tell you the same.

I answer to very few, and none of them are you. I answer to my family, I answer to the Shieldmaidens, I answer to Robert Mack, and I answer to the fans. You could pull our show off your network and we’d get a better deal from a larger network within 24 hours. Fact is, whether you want to hear it or not, Rob is doing you a favor by allowing SE to show ThrowDown and our pay-per-views. You don’t own Rob and you don’t own Mile High or its roster. You’re just a guy in a suit with caviar dreams and a ground beef bank account and without US, you’d be dead broke.

I’m in your head now, Ricky, and it is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO… empty.”

Off-Camera
Maguire House
November 19th, 2019

A black Volkswagen Jetta pulls up in front of the home of Aerynn and Shonn Maguire. Strands of police tape still litter the perimeter, as the woman in the passenger seat shakes her head. As the camera pans closer, we can see the occupants of the Jetta. In the passenger seat is Wendy Pellegrini. The driver is her mentor and co-worker, Tony Scoletti.

Scoletti: Sure ya wanna do this, kid?
Wendy: I need to know for sure what happened.
Scoletti: We can’t go walkin’ into someone else’s place, not out of jurisdiction anyway.
Wendy: We’ll be fine. I talked to one of the detectives, plus I made some calls home. They’re granting us access.
Scoletti: Whatchu hopin’ to find?
Wendy: Whatever I can for Fi, Eef and Sorsh. They need some closure.

They get out of the car and are met by two other detectives.

Detective #1: Sorry, ma’am, can’t let you in.

Wendy and Scoletti pull out their NYPD badges and hold them up. The first detective is about to let them pass, the second older detective isn’t so moved.

Detective #2: Your badges don’t mean shit down here. Plus, I know you’re one of those biker bitches around here. Weren’t the two that died here part of them too?
Wendy: Listen… (looks at his badge) Donaldson? Call Dispatch, let them know you’re intercepting Deputy Chief Scoletti and Detective Stevens from doing their duties. We’ll wait.

The detective leans his head towards his radio.

Det. Donaldson: We have a disturbance at the Maguire residence. One of the damned Shieldmaidens thinks she’s NYPD… Stevens… badge number 2274… she’s accompanied by a DC Scoletti… yes, sir.

The detective pulls his collar away, his face and neck turning a few shades of red.

Det. Donaldson: Very well. Not sure what you expect to find. Home invasions happen. We were asked to stick around on orders. Not exactly sure why.
Wendy: Pretty sure I know who the orders came from. Thank you.

The two pass Donaldson, who watches Scoletti and makes a face, which Scoletti thankfully didn’t see. As Wendy walks around the place, she notices how clean everything is and half-smirks at the job that was done in the house.

Scoletti: Whatcha seein’?
Wendy: Eef, Banshee, she used to tell me how much of a clean freak they were. She wasn’t exaggerating. I want to check out the master bedroom, maybe I can find something of theirs to give Eef and Sorsh tomorrow at... the funeral.

Scoletti walks to her but Wendy shakes her head.

Wendy: I’m fine. It’s… it fucking sucks. They were at our fucking wedding the day before and now...

Wendy extends her arms, motioning around the house and towards the cops outside.

Wendy: Now they’re gone. Haven’t accepted that yet. Lexa’s seen me cry, J… J I try to protect. He’s only 10, he doesn’t need this. But he heard them talking at the wedding. He watched them leave. He knows they’re gone but not entirely how, and I can’t bring myself to tell him. I don’t need him worrying about me, you know?
Scoletti: Ya ain’t always been a family type, but this is part of that. Ya can’t lie to him. Ya dad lied to you, a lot. Ya didn’t know until ya donned the blue yourself. Ya want your boy to have to do the same?

Wendy’s chin starts to shake as she bites her lip, trying to glare at Scoletti through watered eyes.

Wendy: No. He doesn’t need the life I had. Lexa’s was rough enough. I’ll tell him eventually about what happened. What have you noticed so far?
Scoletti: Hinge on the door was replaced recently, suggests blunt force to the door, forced entry. Paint variations on the wall suggest a quick cover up. Scuff marks on the stairs suggest numerous boot tracks, rubber soles heading upstairs.

Wendy nods, and makes a mental note of that, before heading upstairs. She notices a closet door slightly askew and opens it and stops herself for a second before opening it. On a shelf is a book she pulls down and thumbs through, and starts to cry.

Wendy: Found a photo album. Must be easily ten years old. Kinda funny seeing the four of them together, so fresh-faced. Sorsh had a full head of hair. Eef wasn’t born with all those tattoos. I think they’d like to have this.
Scoletti: Don’t let the guys outside see you with it, they’ll think you’re tampering.
Wendy: Far as they’re concerned, it was a simple invasion. Hell, fat ass out there looked like he didn’t even want to be there. He raises a stink, I’ll threaten to sick the girls on him. He already don’t like us.
Scoletti: You’re definitely Agata’s daughter. (laughs)

Wendy looks under the bed, and outside of Scoletti’s view, finds something and sticks it in her bra, before pulling up a pair of slippers.

Wendy: Wondered what that was. Alright, think I have what I was looking for. And, I have to ask. You and Mom? Really?
Scoletti: Are you actually that surprised?
Wendy: No, but if you hurt her, I will hurt you.

Scoletti laughs and puts his hand on Wendy’s shoulder.

Scoletti: Just remember who trains who.

Wendy rolls her eyes and places a hand on Scoletti’s shoulder in return, her hand tiny in comparison before heading back out. They nod to the officers on the way out and get back into the car with no difficulties.

Wendy: Just remember who hired who. Though, if anyone should be with Mom, I’d glad it’s you. You’ll be there tomorrow, right?
Scoletti: Yeah, Agata asked I come down, she worries about you and Val. Her girl, Essentia, runs with you as well, right?
Wendy: Yeah, kinda odd to see my sister dating one of the bosses, but it works. She’s staying with us now, Val and I convinced her to move in.
Scoletti: What about your other issue? The temper?
Wendy: Working on it. When I’m home, I’m alright. Once I know it’s go time, and I get training and get ready to wrestle, it gets away from me. Been lucky so far, but it’s chapped a few peoples’ asses.
Scoletti: I know this ain’t helpin’ ya, too. Ya gotta tone it down, it’ll get you in more shit than you need. Then you’ll start trainin’ harder and workin’ yourself up even more and ya don’t need that circle.

Wendy closes her eyes and inhales and exhales slowly.

Wendy: I’ll get there, I have to.
Scoletti: Ain’t just you to worry about anymore, kid. You’re married, got a kid. Got a good life goin’ but ya still got that cop mentality. Ya trust very few, got ya father’s ballbustin’ attitude, and eventually that’ll come apart on ya and ya won’t know what to do. That’s what kills cops.
Wendy: How did you do it?
Scoletti: Took a job bein’ a legal bounty hunter for a friend’s daughter. Even started trainin’ her in hopes she learns from experience and smartens up.

While Scoletti drove, Wendy leaned over and laid her head on his arm, like a daughter to a father.

Wendy: Thank you, for everything.
Scoletti: Ain’t no trouble, kid. Just remember one thing, alright? I might be a little older, but ya ain’t gotta be the only one tryin’ to protect your own. Ya can let go, enjoy what you got. Ya got me, your mother is a smart and strong woman. Val’s on the right path to be great, as are you. And ya got a little extra muscle backin’ ya girls up.
Wendy: Does that mean J should call you Grandpa?

Scoletti laughs and smiles his crooked smile.

Scoletti: Ya know, I’d like that. That’d be three now. Maria had twins a few years ago.
Wendy: I think last time you told me anything about Maria was when she was pregnant. Alright, new rule. Seeing as you’re family, you gotta keep me in the loop about shit, you got me?
Scoletti: Done.

----------------------------------------------------

On-Camera
Early-morning November 21st, 2019
Abandoned Jail
Location Undetermined

We see our resident Zombie sitting on the concrete slab where a bed once lay inside an old jail cell. The toilet and sink long been removed, graffiti all over the walls, even the door of the cell was unhinged. From outside the cell, the camera sat on its tripod, casting the only light that can be seen in the cell.

“Rick, I came here today because I wanted to experience a moment in your life that occurred recently. For those who missed it, at the end of the last ThrowDown, the members of the Coven jumped us Shieldmaidens in a very bloody brawl, and our network executive slash wannabe wrestler, Ricky Stanton, tried to get the jump on me again and at the end of it all, poor Ricky got led away by the boys in blue to cool off for awhile. It’s an image that will stay with me for a long time and it brings me great joy in remembering it.

Now, you see, the image of Ricky going to jail was great enough, but then, he had to make the experience even more comical for us. It seems Mr. Big Shot, King of Wrestling, Mr. Money… is afraid of these little guys.”

Wendy picks up a rat and strokes its little head and puts him down as it scurries off.

“This piece of information completely destroyed my belief that big guys weren’t afraid of rats. But then I realize Ricky is no Michael Clarke Duncan so I shouldn’t compare the two. At least when Duncan talked, you can believe what he says. Ricky is just, well, a legend in his own head.

I know, I’ve been in the man’s head for a few weeks, I can say with all honestly I’m right.”

Wendy gets up and starts pacing the cell.

“In a former life, I used to put people in places like this. Men and women who went sometimes years believing they committed the perfect crime until evidence proved otherwise, and they landed here for the remainder of their days. It's a cold place, it's a hard place, and it was where they belonged.

But you, Ricky, you don't belong here. Yet. I could have let you stewed in a place like this, with the rats and noise and lack of privacy, but I didn't push it. I just wanted you to have a taste of normalcy. I wanted you to experience the power I have first-hand. See, your power is putting people through tables, trying to buy people and influence. My power comes from a simple snap of my fingers. Like…"

Wendy snaps her fingers and suddenly the scene changes to a candy manufacturing plant. She looks around, surprised, and picks up a bulk bag of red M&Ms and shrugs.

"Well shit, guess you know what I'm getting you for Christmas. Hang on, let's try that again, shall we?"

Wendy snaps her fingers again and suddenly the scene changes again to get old stomping grounds, her old indie company in New York City where she's standing in a wrestling ring with a coat rack where her Shieldmaidens kutte hangs. She puts on the kutte and walks over across the mat and picks up her MHW ThrowDown Title and places it on her shoulder.

"This is where my power comes from, Ricky. Not a snap of my fingers, but from the colors on my back and the title you see before you.

Thing is, this match means nothing to you, does it? It doesn't, because win or lose, you're making money. The worse I beat you, the higher the buyrate. Thing is, this match means everything to me. It means one more win closer to the ultimate goal. It means one more log to the wood pile to burn.

It means proving one more time that this company doesn't run on your money, but on the success and prominence of the Shieldmaidens. I can lay the title down, gather up all the Maidens and leave this company and make just as much elsewhere and what would you have? Absolutely nothing. You see where I'm going with this?

Osiris already forsake you to Cain. Stanton Enterprises may have your name but they have no confidence in you. They'd probably replace you with a robot and drop their stress levels by 80%. The thing is, they're used to your failures. Your ability to talk a big game and choke like the Bills. Come Sunday, in our house of New Orleans, I have one more trick up my sleeve."

Wendy smirks at the camera and lifts her hand again.

"I'm going to make you disappear. And it'll be sooooooooo… magical. Who's in your head?"

Wendy snaps her fingers again as the screen goes black.