The scene opens inside what appears to be a pretty run down hole in the wall bar. The walls are old wooden log cabin style walls that’s been darkened over the years by way to much smoke. There's a few neon signs burning advertising different alcoholic beverages. In one corner is a juke box that looks to be out of the seventies. There's a couple of guys that look to be out of a movie audition for stereotypical truck driver standing off to another corner playing a game of billiards. The bar itself seems rather sparsely occupied, the truckers in the corner, a couple bar flies at the bar itself, a few other booths completely empty. The scene is disturbed as the door opens with a little jingle of a bell as in steps in The Cajun Sensation Tobias Devereaux, although he’s a bit dressed down compared to his usual attire. Dressed in blue jeans and a large leather jacket over a Judas Priest's black tee shirt, black boots, and his trademark hat. Tobias steps up to the corner stool at the bar, takes his hat off sitting it on the bar and has a seat. The bartender steps up as Tobias pulls from his jacket a pack of camel 100s and his zippo.
Tobias’ accent hidden slightly in his speech for some reason as he orders. The bartender goes over to make his drink as Tobias lights up his cigarette and takes a drag, placing the pack and zippo on the bar beside his hat. The bartender comes back promptly with his drink sitting it down infront of him.
Tobias reaches into his jeans and pulls out a hundred and slides it over to the bartender.
“For de drink, and if’n you can, some information.”
The bartenders’ eyes light up at the sight of the money as he slides it over into his own pocket.
“What you need to know friend?”
“Dere is dis fella by de name of Thomas Livingston. He spose to of been through this part recently. He’s about five foot nine, one eighty five, long black hair with brown eyes. He’s normally fond of these sort of establishments, long legged blondes, and causing a general ruckus wherever he goes. Would of been through here about a week or two ago.”
The bartender puts his hand on his chin scratching the little bit of scruff growing from the other days shave. He thinks for a moment before speaking.
“Yea, I think I know who you’re talking about, came in here talking a big game about himself. Said something about heading to Tulsa after some lady he met a while back in Nashville. Something about her going home after failing to become a singer or something.”
“Yea, he came in here drowning his sorrow, talked everybodies ear off for about three hours, then once he was good and liquored up tried to start a fight with Phil and Buck of there playing pool. Said they were hustling him in a game.”
“Dat sounds bout right. How long ago was dis?”
“Oh that was probably two...no three days ago.”
“Tanks, dat was a big help”
Tobias finishes his drink slowly between thanks and that was a big help. He sits the glass down on the table and stands up from the bar. Giving a bit of a stretch he grabs his smokes and slips them back into his pocket and grabs his hat. He takes about three steps towards the door before pivoting and looking back at the bartender.
“Sorry mon amie, dere was just one more ting real quick.”
As Tobias speaks his accent becomes slowly more pronounced again. As if all efforts to subdue it were taken away to let that deep creole shine. The bartender lifts his head slightly as Tobias speaks.
“I’s just wonderin if’n dat was so why his car be outside, or why de smell of blood be so thick in here? Yew knows now dat ole Tobias tink about it, I’s don’t tink I believes yew all dat much. Yew see I tink ole Thomas still here, maybe in dat dere back room. I tink he came in here to drown a sorrow as yew said, but didn’t realize what sort of place he walked into.”
The bartender is visible growing annoyed as Tobias speaks. Phil and Buck also seem to be perking up and have stopped their game. The two step forward the pool cues in their hands. The few other people at the bar all turn around towards Tobias as well, everyone's faces growing stern. Finally the bartender speaks.
“What sort of place is that?”
“Oh nutin too special, just yew everyday bar front for a nest of de living dead, dats all. However luckily for ole Thomas, Tobias is here to collect his remains and gain vengeance on dose dat done him wrong. At de families behest of course, and for my meage fee.”
The people at the bar all stand up as they sort of make this growl like noise. We note everyone in the building other than Tobias’ face distorts as a secondary set of teeth comes out in front of their normal teeth, these more jagged and almost shark like.
“Ah, see ole Tobias is right once again. Good to know I’s didn’t get all dressed up for nutin”
Tobias smirks as he reaches behind his back and pulls a large machete from under his jacket, slowly rolling his neck as his eyes light up slightly with his trademark smirk.
We cut to outside of the building as Tobias speaks. We watch from outside the building as we can hear loud thuds and crashing noises. There's a few flashes of light coming from the windows and under the door to go with loud boom like noises. The commotion goes on for about five to ten minutes. After which the area gets strangely quiet. A few more minutes pass by before Tobias comes out of the front door. He’s holding a wad of cash that he’s filing through counting before slipping it into his pocket. He pulls from his other pocket his pack of smokes and lights up a cigarette taking a drag off of it as he pulls out his cellphone. We see him click clack on it for a moment.
“Well one job done….oh and what’s dis, seems anutta job has come along. Dey want me and Loki to team up. Against de champs no less. Dat….dat could be interesting.”
Tobias smirks again as he heads out into the parking lot as we fade to black.
Edmonton, Alberta Canada
We’re shown a cafe, nothing really remarkable about it just your standard coffee and grease slinging shop. At a corner booth we see Tobias Devereaux who is dressed much more as we’re accustomed to seeing him. In a long sleeve crimson dress shirt and black slacks. There's a black leather trench coat folded neatly on the bench beside him with his fedora sat on top of that. He’s got a plate of what looks to be Poutine in front of him that he’s about half way through. A cup of steaming hot coffee can be noticed to the side as well. Suddenly Tobias’ lunch is disturbed as a gentleman sits down across from him.
“Good afternoon Mr. Deveraux.”
Tobias cuts his eyes up slowly at takes a good look at the man. He’s about six foot three approximately two hundred and eighty pounds of muscle. He’s dressed in a freshly pressed grey suit and tie combination. The ear piece though gives him away as some sort of security personnel. Tobias just nods and goes back to eating.
“I’ve been sent…”
“I’s know who sents yew, how is Christopher?”
“Mr. Saint James is well, he does however request your presence.”
“I’s currently indisposed, but howeva I’s free in bout thirty or so minutes.”
“Unfortunately Mr. St. James insists on your presence at a more prompt time than that Mr. Devereaux.”
“Je jure devant dieu si vous ne me laissez pas finir mon déjeuner.”
“English please Mr. Devereaux.”
“I said I’m coming….”
Tobias quickly takes a few more bites of his lunch before standing up. Grabbing his hat and coat he slides both on before walking towards the door.
“You can pay for de meal sense yews makin me leaves it cooyon”
The security gentleman stands up from the booth and tosses a few bills down onto the table. He follows quickly behind Tobias. As the two step out into the brisk cool canadian weather the gentleman motions towards a limo that's parked on the street not far from the cafe. Tobias nods and makes his way over to the vehicle. The gentleman opens the door for Tobias who takes off his hat as he ducks down into the back of the limo. The door closes after him as we hear the gentleman walk up to the passenger door to get in upfront. Sitting across from Tobias is his former tag team partner and on again off again friend Christopher St. James, god's gift to everything as it were.
“Yew summoned ole great and power St. ‘ames”
Tobias chuckles as Christopher just smirks in response. His pressed black suit and dark blue tie looking as though they cost more than most people make in a year at work. He pulls from his breast pocket a little envelope and tosses it over to the Cajun.
“Merry Christmas old friend.”
Tobias looks a little puzzled then smirks.
“Yew was always de opportunist. Let me guess, ole Milenko done paid yews to get him information on Loki and myself. Probably paid yew to get him into dis here position he finds himself in currently. Howevas yew see de possibility to get some funds out of me for tings I could use against ole Milenko if’n he decides to pull de ole brutus. Here I didn’t know if’n yew still cared after all dese years mon amie.”
“Well care is such a strong word Tobias. However we did run the roads for years together. We were Dirty Money Incorporated after all. You were the one who taught me about having contingencies upon contingencies. So why not bet on both horses in a race? Either way I win.”
Tobias just chuckles and takes the envelope sliding it into his jacket.
“Much obliged as always dere Christopher. Yew should really not be a stranger dough, just cause I left de business for a bit don’t mean we stopped being friends.”
“No Tobias, however one of us stopped pushing themselves and growing. I don’t stand still for no one anymore, not even friends.”
“Ah dat’s were yews wrong Christopher, we both kept growing, just yew grew into the shadows, and I like de lovely flower dat I am stretched out for de light.”
“Yet here you are playing thug for James Milenko all the same.”
“We’s all got our reasons mon amie, yew know dat betta den most”
“Whatever helps you at night Tobias, all I know is I sleep just fine in my big ole bed in my big ole mansion and I don’t play thug for nobody. I have people do that for me. Speaking of, we’re at your stop”
Christopher St. James taps on the window behind him as the limo stops. A moment later the door opens. Tobias nods politely to Christopher before stepping out of the back of the limo. Tobias gives a polite nod to the muscle opening the door as he looks around only to see they just circled the block and is still outside of the cafe. Tobias notes that his food is still on the table but the waitress is coming quickly to pick it up. He starts dashing back towards the cafe.
“Chere! Chere! Hold on Chere, I’s not done wit dat!”
The muscle just shakes his head before we fade to black.
So smokin aces eh? I can appreciate that sort of name, being a bit of a gambler in my life as well. Been known to keep an ace up my sleeve and one could call me James Milenko’s ace in the hole as it were. Of course that makes Loki the Joker aka the wildcard. Now when you put the two of us together it does create quite the interesting combination. You get the very thoughtful scheming manipulation of myself with the completely unpredictable nature that is the Jester. If able to mesh, well that could mean a heap of trouble for just about anybody. I don’t reckon there’s much better people to test that theory against than the champions of tag team wrestling here in the CWF.
From my limited understanding of the history around here you boys have been quite dominate in the division, only really being challenged by the forsaken, back before it was torn to pieces by ole Milenko. To be fair, he’s going to eventually do the same to you nice folk over there in the Glass Ceiling. Never did understand that name you picked out for the group. Glass Ceiling, it’s sort of the cap on someone reaching higher. Was it meant as you were keeping everyone else in the federation from reaching their full potential, or was it suppose to be some sort of metaphor about busting through that proverbial glass ceiling and grabbing that there brass ring as it were. Neither really matter at the moment because Loki’s scepter is about to shatter that glass in every which direction possible. Just best hope she doesn’t take the shards and try to get creative with your faces.
Now me personally, I have nothing against yall Duce and Freddy, other than you sound like a couple of dude bro names and I do detest dude bros. I can respect the dominance, I can respect the tag team name, hell I can respect Styles fighting twice in one night at Hellbound. At the end of the day though gentleman whether I respect you or not doesn’t really matter. I’m paid to do a job and this week that job is to assist one Loki Synn with systematically destroying you piece by piece to send a message.
Although it would be interesting if’n you were unable to defeat me and Loki, as the champions and all. It would certainly put this rather new team immediately into discussions for a title shot I would imagine. With James semi in charge now I’m actually surprised it isn’t already, but no matter, those will come. See if I’m being honest, I’m not a big fan of titles and such, I don’t care about the prestige and lineage that comes with them. I’m not interested in representing the brand as it were. However with titles come paydays and endorsements and those, well I do enjoy them. So bonus reasons to make this week rather difficult for the two of ya. Should be fun time had by all. Well depending on what you deem as fun, but certainly by my and Loki’s standards.
Until then gentleman, enjoy your relative peace, hold those titles closely, especially you freddy as well you’re already down one. Dream those wonderful dreams and remember the better days of before Hostility. For the takeover is coming, whether you like it or not.
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."