The Cab Driver and the H.U.S.T.L.E.R... Hustla!
Feb 17, 2022 23:03:57 GMT -5
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Post by Douglas Crane on Feb 17, 2022 23:03:57 GMT -5
Douglas Crane drives a yellow cab down the streets of New York City, talking the ear off his passenger in the back, a wall street type man who clearly wants no part of Crane’s ramblings.
The last time we saw this version of Crane was a few days before his Christmas’ eve match with John Blade, a match many herald as an instant Christmas classic. Then, Crane was dropping himself off at Rockefeller Plaza and despite arguing with himself about ‘going back’ and ‘waiting his turn’, the Cab Driver ignored himself and drove off. We assume that the Crane that got dropped off is who we now know as the Grappler.
The well-dressed man clears his throat a few times as he reads the Financial Times, hoping to get Crane to get the hint and shut up, but Crane either ignores him or legit doesn’t hear him and continues.
Crane: Real talk? I have nothing against LeeAnn Morgan; my initial attack on her was nothing personal, you see? Yeah, it was all about getting what I wanted, and she was in my way of that, dead ass. But she clearly took it personal as she attacked me before our match even got started, hoping to get the advantage on me. Yeah, she ratchet like that it seems but no matter, once the bell rung and the match got going, I was able to do what I do best. Yeah, wasn’t easy by any means, she has a strong grip know what I mean? But I couldn’t go on a losing skid you dig? I had to stop the bleedin’ and bounce right back. I took everything she had to offer, but in the end, she went limp just like anyone else who gets caught in our trap.
The man tries to say something, but Crane looks at him with his piercing blue eyes through the rear-view mirror and the man shuts up and goes back to his newspaper.
Crane: BUT it seems that upper management are willing to reward someone despite a losing effort. They saw the good fight she put up and thought that was enough for her to still get the same shot I am getting at the Warrior Rising championship. I guess I gotta give it to her, yeah, she’s tough, and she did beat up Diana pretty damn good, our match was close, so fine, she belongs. I can appreciate that, I mean, I barely lost to TJ Thompson, he got lucky if we’re honest, but I lost, and they still gave me a second chance. So, whatever, now not only does Casanova have to worry about us and that Gallagher woman, but Morgan as well. I just hope she realizes that the outcome at the pay per view will be no different than what happened at the Path of Tyrants, just another loss on her book. Hey, speaking of books, you good at what you do? I got a little money I want to invest and…
Crane takes his eyes off the road, turning his head towards the man who rolls his eyes and is forced to put down his paper. He is about to retort when his eyes grow wide in horror as he points towards the front. Crane turns to see himself on the road, except, this is the one they refer to as The Monstrosity… The one that wears the red leather apron, red gloves and sports a meat cleaver or two, depending on his mood. He’s also the one that screams for his release during his matches… Cab Crane hits the breaks but then releases them knowing he wasn’t going to be able to stop in time and then swerves just as the monstrosity swings the cleaver at him, nearly missing his head through the open driver side window, but able to cut through the seatbelt. Crane tries to regain control of the cab, but can’t, and he crashes into half a brick wall and the display window of a small jewelry store. The Monstrosity makes his way over and peeks inside, seeing the passenger knocked out but the Cab Driver is not in. The Monstrosity walks around and notices the windshield is busted and the Cab Driver laying on top of some now broken mannequins, with jewelry and glass scattered all over the place. White and red lights flash inside the store as a siren sound. The Cab Driver open his eyes and looks up and see his tormentor coming for him.
The Cab Driver: You just couldn’t let me be?
Not your turn.
The Cab Driver: I never get a turn!
Because we are meant to be more than a pathetic ‘cab driver.’
The Cab Driver: I am not pathetic! I matter!
Not anymore!
The Cab Driver: I was born just like you, I deserve to be-
You were never meant to be born; you were never meant to get out… Since you won’t obey, the valet has checked you out of your room, permanently…
For once, we see fear in the eyes of Crane, which is very hard to imagine since we never see him this vulnerable.
The Cab Driver: No, please, please. Okay, I’ll go back! I’ll go back!
Too late.
And with that, The Monstrosity brings down the meat cleaver right between the Cab Driver’s eyes. His body begins to twitch like crazy and then Crane stomps on the cleaver, driving it further into his skull and the body goes limp. Crane then begins searching the Cab Driver and finds what he is looking for: a hotel key. Sirens are heard approaching fast and Crane retrieves his cleaver after a little effort and begins to leave but then notices a pair of peridot earrings, large, gorgeous on gold hooks. He grabs them, looks at the price tag and nods approvingly.
These are beautiful, our little one will love them.
He takes the earrings and leaves the store just as multiple police vehicles arrive. Many officers rush the scene, guns drawn and quickly study the area but are baffled to not find anyone there, inside the car or otherwise, but also that most of the jewelry, scattered as it may be, all seems there.
Well, almost.
Crane snaps out of his trance, finding himself once again at another session with the psychiatrist. Crane looks confused as he is standing in front of the window, having no idea how he got there.
Crane: Yes? I think so… now.
Crane turns to look back at the shrink even more confused.
Which Crane? What do you mean? There is only one of me.
No, last I remember I was driving down the Santa Monica boulevard in my brand-new convertible, thinking about my match at the pay per view with Betsy Gallagher, LeeAnne and of course, a man I am definitely intrigued by in Casanova English. My, what a name!
How dare you! Only my enemies call me that, they mock me for how I am, what I am despite being filthy rich and knowing I can literally own them. So, tell me doctor, is that why I am here? For you to mock me? Are you one of my enemies?
Who is they?
Oh, yes, him I’ve heard of. The man has the potential to be a wrestling mega star, but he only cares about what happens between the ropes, nothing else.
Too many of us out, doctor I don’t understand what you are talking about.
No, you’re wrong, I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine. I am ready to go into The Crowning II pay per view and “crown” myself as the new Warrior Rising champion. Sure, my opponents are many, but I know one already too well, been there and done that as they say when it comes to LeeAnn Morgan. By the way, she has been rather quiet these last few weeks you know doctor. I have many correspondents at my disposal that I pay good money to so they can go and get the scoop on my opponents and possible opponents, but they haven’t gotten me much on her. Last time we heard from here was on January 19th, and while we had our good fight a week or so later, afterwards, she was once again quiet… No response or retort for being defeated by me… No reaction to still being given a chance the Warrior Rising title, being placed in a major pay per view… nothing. I know I haven’t been in this promotion long, but that is not like her at all. Maybe she’s the one you should be reaching out to help doctor, sounds like she may be going through something. Me on the other hand, look at me doctor, look at me in my 5-thousand-dollar 3-piece suit. These thousand-dollar pair of loafers, no one who looks as good as me, who feels as good as me can have that type of disorder, it’s just not possible. So do like I said and reach out to Morgan, you know, someone who really needs your help.
Again, it’s not possible... It’s not… I am me, the only me.
Douglas starts to breath heavily and then seems to struggle for breath at the same time, as if it was being choked. He reaches for his throat as he falls to floor and the doctor, who we still can’t see who it is, kneels in front of him.
Crane appears to no longer be choking and his breathing starts to normalize. He looks up at the doctor.
What… did... he, say?
The doctor is reluctant to answer.
WHAT DID HE SAY?!
Douglas smiles and someone else answers.
100 percent doctor… It means the hunt has begun doc, one down, many more to go! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
It’s late at night, in a back alley somewhere, a group of men play dice by a fire coming from a metal barrel. They are drinking beer, throwing dollar bills around, joking around and having a good time despite the crappy conditions they seem to be in and around. One of those men, surprisingly, is Douglas Crane, who is wearing thorn jeans, a colorful hoodie and Carhartt beanie. He is the one that has the most cash in his hands, and not only singles but all denominations. He throws the dice, hits an 11 and collects more cash.
Crane: Looks like lady luck is on my side tonight fellas! First, I win my big match against LeeAnne Morgan, earn my shot at the Uprising Warrior title and to boot, I’m taking yall’s money.
Man: Yo whatever man, roll the dice, you ain’t hitting 7 or 11 again. Double up, let’s go.
Crane: Alright bet.
All 4 players throw money down; Crane grabs the dice and shoots them at the wall. The dice bounce off and come to a stop at 5 and a 2; Crane smirks, his buddies, not so much.
Man: Son of a bitch!
Crane: I can’t lose tonight; hopefully at the pay per view I won’t lose either against Betsy Gallagher and -.
Man: Ain’t nobody cares about no damn pay per view or a stupid title or who you are fighting!
The man stands up, reaches inside his pants and pulls out a gun. The other two men want no part of this and quickly run off. Crane stands up slowly and puts his hands up.
Crane: Why you gotta be like that man? I’m just trying to celebrate my big win with cha… Want to tell you about my fatal four-way match, it’s a big deal for me… We boys man, and besides, it’s just a game, we’re just having fun out playa.
Man: Nah, you having fun taking all our money, and pretending to talk in a slang you have no idea how to use! You a wrestler, right? So, you don’t need this money right here and if you beat that Betsy chick you get even more money, so why you need to come hustle us for money huh?
Crane: I’m a hustla baby.
Man: STOP IT! You ain’t no hustla cracka, I’m a hustla, H-U-S-T-L-E-R, hustla! I don’t mess around and you about to find out if you don’t step off. Actually, nah, what you gonna do to avoid getting your ass capped is give me all that dough in your hand, whatever money you got in your pockets, and your wallet too.
Before Crane can answer or even think about handing stuff off, a motorcycle comes roaring into the alley. Both look towards it as it comes to a stop some 5 yards from them. The rider parks it, turns off the light and while the man with the gun doesn’t quite pick up who he is, Crane recognizes him right away. He then elbows the man on the face and quickly grabs the gun from him.
Crane: Take the cream and run.
The man holds his bloody nose in pain but analyzes what Crane just said, he looks at him and then at the unknown biker and then quickly grabs the cash on the ground and runs off. Crane points the gun at the biker who is slowly approaching him, once he gets close enough to the fire, he realizes it is him, The Monstrosity. Hustler Crane points the gun at him.
Crane: That’s close enough foo’, whatcha doing here?
Came to send you back.
Crane: I ain’t going back mofo! I like being out!
It’s not your turn.
Crane: It never is partna! I’m tired of waiting for ya’ll to pass me the baton! Look what happened because I came out? We won the match! We earn that title shot!
I won us the match, you had nothing to do with it. You weren’t even there.
Crane: Hell yeah I was!
No, you only showed up to take the cash like you always do. Well, no more, The Valet has made the call, there are too many of us out now, we’re too unstable, it’s affecting us not only mentally but inside the ring we love. We got by LeeAnn but now we not only got her again, but also Gallagher and the champ himself… We can’t have this happening during our title match against English, we won’t stand a chance; he’s not like anyone we have faced before. If we want to get what we believe is ours, we must defeat him and it won't be easy. We need to be perfect in every way if we want to do what nobody else has been able to do up to now. The man is methodical not only in the way he carries himself but what he does in the ring. He is a psychotic artist inside and out of it and on top of that, he is not very pleasant at all from what I have seen. He uses many tactics to defeat his opponents, many tools, but I think the sharpest and best tool Mr. English has at his disposal is his tongue. If we are able to calm our mind, make our brain whole, we can keep him out of our head long enough where he has no choice but to beat us physically and it is there where I know we have the advantage over him. You have seen Mr. English, he doesn't look like much, and probably looked a little decent at some point in his life but all the smoking he does has eaten away at his life, at his body, at his soul... But not his mind, again, he is as sharp as they come and if we want to match wits with him we must be whole. We can't be many, we can't be legion, we must be one... The one to destroy Casanova English once and for all... The one to pin him to the mat if we have to, not Morgan or Gallaher, but him. He is the one that must go down! And I much rather hold his tiny little head in between my arms and put him to sleep permanently. Do you understand now? Before we can eliminate our opponents in the ring, we, no, I must eliminated all of you. The Valet has made the ruling, you have been checked out, permanently.
Crane: Ha! Yeah right! I am out to gets mine, I’m out to get that shinning Warrior Rising title for me, myself and I and I’m not gonna let the boogey man stop me. The others may fear your ass, but I don’t fear no man and I’m not afraid to look over my shoulder or to sleep at night because you may come for me. I don’t care what The Valet says, he can’t revoke my key.
Crane flashes his meat cleaver, and the flames from the fire reflect on it. The Hustler just laughs.
Crane: You bring a knife to a gun fight beastie… You is a fool!
Hustla Crane pulls the trigger a couple of times but The Monstrosity shows Matrix like reflexes and brings the meat cleaver up just in time, causing the bullets to bounce off it, one ricocheting off the wall and ending up right in between The Hustler’s eyes. He drops to his knees, never taking his eyes off ‘the boogeyman’ and then drops to the floor, dead. Crane walks over to confirm his kill, kneels and searches his pockets until he finds a hotel room key. As he grabs it, a man’s voice comes from behind him.
Man: Hey, what’s going on over there?
The man uses a flashlight and as he makes his way over and gets closer, we see that it is a police officer and his partner. As they arrive at the scene, they don’t find Crane, either of them. Just a dead hobo with a single gunshot wound to the head. They look at each other confused, wondering what the hell just happened.
Crane stands at the top the building, looking down at the alley.
Two down, more to go, but before we do that, Casanova English reign must come to end, and I know Betsy Gallagher is not the one to do it, she has tried and failed. LeeAnn Morgan couldn't get past us then, she won't get past us now... This is what we have been after from day one, it's always been about this championship so with all due respect Casanova, we will be the ones that bring your reign to an end.
The last time we saw this version of Crane was a few days before his Christmas’ eve match with John Blade, a match many herald as an instant Christmas classic. Then, Crane was dropping himself off at Rockefeller Plaza and despite arguing with himself about ‘going back’ and ‘waiting his turn’, the Cab Driver ignored himself and drove off. We assume that the Crane that got dropped off is who we now know as the Grappler.
The well-dressed man clears his throat a few times as he reads the Financial Times, hoping to get Crane to get the hint and shut up, but Crane either ignores him or legit doesn’t hear him and continues.
Crane: Real talk? I have nothing against LeeAnn Morgan; my initial attack on her was nothing personal, you see? Yeah, it was all about getting what I wanted, and she was in my way of that, dead ass. But she clearly took it personal as she attacked me before our match even got started, hoping to get the advantage on me. Yeah, she ratchet like that it seems but no matter, once the bell rung and the match got going, I was able to do what I do best. Yeah, wasn’t easy by any means, she has a strong grip know what I mean? But I couldn’t go on a losing skid you dig? I had to stop the bleedin’ and bounce right back. I took everything she had to offer, but in the end, she went limp just like anyone else who gets caught in our trap.
The man tries to say something, but Crane looks at him with his piercing blue eyes through the rear-view mirror and the man shuts up and goes back to his newspaper.
Crane: BUT it seems that upper management are willing to reward someone despite a losing effort. They saw the good fight she put up and thought that was enough for her to still get the same shot I am getting at the Warrior Rising championship. I guess I gotta give it to her, yeah, she’s tough, and she did beat up Diana pretty damn good, our match was close, so fine, she belongs. I can appreciate that, I mean, I barely lost to TJ Thompson, he got lucky if we’re honest, but I lost, and they still gave me a second chance. So, whatever, now not only does Casanova have to worry about us and that Gallagher woman, but Morgan as well. I just hope she realizes that the outcome at the pay per view will be no different than what happened at the Path of Tyrants, just another loss on her book. Hey, speaking of books, you good at what you do? I got a little money I want to invest and…
Crane takes his eyes off the road, turning his head towards the man who rolls his eyes and is forced to put down his paper. He is about to retort when his eyes grow wide in horror as he points towards the front. Crane turns to see himself on the road, except, this is the one they refer to as The Monstrosity… The one that wears the red leather apron, red gloves and sports a meat cleaver or two, depending on his mood. He’s also the one that screams for his release during his matches… Cab Crane hits the breaks but then releases them knowing he wasn’t going to be able to stop in time and then swerves just as the monstrosity swings the cleaver at him, nearly missing his head through the open driver side window, but able to cut through the seatbelt. Crane tries to regain control of the cab, but can’t, and he crashes into half a brick wall and the display window of a small jewelry store. The Monstrosity makes his way over and peeks inside, seeing the passenger knocked out but the Cab Driver is not in. The Monstrosity walks around and notices the windshield is busted and the Cab Driver laying on top of some now broken mannequins, with jewelry and glass scattered all over the place. White and red lights flash inside the store as a siren sound. The Cab Driver open his eyes and looks up and see his tormentor coming for him.
The Cab Driver: You just couldn’t let me be?
Not your turn.
The Cab Driver: I never get a turn!
Because we are meant to be more than a pathetic ‘cab driver.’
The Cab Driver: I am not pathetic! I matter!
Not anymore!
The Cab Driver: I was born just like you, I deserve to be-
You were never meant to be born; you were never meant to get out… Since you won’t obey, the valet has checked you out of your room, permanently…
For once, we see fear in the eyes of Crane, which is very hard to imagine since we never see him this vulnerable.
The Cab Driver: No, please, please. Okay, I’ll go back! I’ll go back!
Too late.
And with that, The Monstrosity brings down the meat cleaver right between the Cab Driver’s eyes. His body begins to twitch like crazy and then Crane stomps on the cleaver, driving it further into his skull and the body goes limp. Crane then begins searching the Cab Driver and finds what he is looking for: a hotel key. Sirens are heard approaching fast and Crane retrieves his cleaver after a little effort and begins to leave but then notices a pair of peridot earrings, large, gorgeous on gold hooks. He grabs them, looks at the price tag and nods approvingly.
These are beautiful, our little one will love them.
He takes the earrings and leaves the store just as multiple police vehicles arrive. Many officers rush the scene, guns drawn and quickly study the area but are baffled to not find anyone there, inside the car or otherwise, but also that most of the jewelry, scattered as it may be, all seems there.
Well, almost.
Mr. Crane? Are you with me?
Crane snaps out of his trance, finding himself once again at another session with the psychiatrist. Crane looks confused as he is standing in front of the window, having no idea how he got there.
Crane: Yes? I think so… now.
Now? Did you just switch on me, which Crane am I talking to?
Crane turns to look back at the shrink even more confused.
Which Crane? What do you mean? There is only one of me.
Oh no, did we regress? Douglas, do you know why you are here?
No, last I remember I was driving down the Santa Monica boulevard in my brand-new convertible, thinking about my match at the pay per view with Betsy Gallagher, LeeAnne and of course, a man I am definitely intrigued by in Casanova English. My, what a name!
Convertible, eh? I see, The Rich Ricardo has arrived.
How dare you! Only my enemies call me that, they mock me for how I am, what I am despite being filthy rich and knowing I can literally own them. So, tell me doctor, is that why I am here? For you to mock me? Are you one of my enemies?
No, far from it, I am trying to help you, all of you. They just told me you were one of the ones that ‘got out’.
Who is they?
Please have a seat. Do you know The Grappler?
Oh, yes, him I’ve heard of. The man has the potential to be a wrestling mega star, but he only cares about what happens between the ropes, nothing else.
Well, he was just telling me about your big win and your scheduled title match at the pay per view, and about not doing that well in Project Honor lately and crediting that to there being too many of you out.
Too many of us out, doctor I don’t understand what you are talking about.
You are sick Douglas, you have a multiple personality disorder, and when I say multiple, that is putting it mildly. We have only had a few sessions, but so far, I got at least 7 personalities and from what The Grappler tells me, that’s but a fraction of your fractured mind.
No, you’re wrong, I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine. I am ready to go into The Crowning II pay per view and “crown” myself as the new Warrior Rising champion. Sure, my opponents are many, but I know one already too well, been there and done that as they say when it comes to LeeAnn Morgan. By the way, she has been rather quiet these last few weeks you know doctor. I have many correspondents at my disposal that I pay good money to so they can go and get the scoop on my opponents and possible opponents, but they haven’t gotten me much on her. Last time we heard from here was on January 19th, and while we had our good fight a week or so later, afterwards, she was once again quiet… No response or retort for being defeated by me… No reaction to still being given a chance the Warrior Rising title, being placed in a major pay per view… nothing. I know I haven’t been in this promotion long, but that is not like her at all. Maybe she’s the one you should be reaching out to help doctor, sounds like she may be going through something. Me on the other hand, look at me doctor, look at me in my 5-thousand-dollar 3-piece suit. These thousand-dollar pair of loafers, no one who looks as good as me, who feels as good as me can have that type of disorder, it’s just not possible. So do like I said and reach out to Morgan, you know, someone who really needs your help.
Sadly it is, and I am looking at you Douglas, you are not wearing any of that, but your mind sees only what it wants to see in this very moment. What makes your case unique is that while some of you know you have a problem, some of you don’t… On top of that, some of you acknowledge there being many of you, while others who admit being sick, have no idea who the others are. I know I said fractured earlier, but honestly, your mind is more like shattered glass; each broken piece representing a different you.
Again, it’s not possible... It’s not… I am me, the only me.
Douglas starts to breath heavily and then seems to struggle for breath at the same time, as if it was being choked. He reaches for his throat as he falls to floor and the doctor, who we still can’t see who it is, kneels in front of him.
Mr. Crane, please stay with me! Stay focus on this personality please, I can’t help you if you keep switching on me. I’m afraid of what you may do to yourself after what the grappler told me.
Crane appears to no longer be choking and his breathing starts to normalize. He looks up at the doctor.
What… did... he, say?
The doctor is reluctant to answer.
WHAT DID HE SAY?!
He said that “The Valet” had released ‘him’ completely and revoked the hotel keys of all those that got out without permission. I asked him what he meant by all of that, who was The Valet, keys to what hotel? What did they mean, but then he zoned out, and when he snapped out of it, you came out… Does any of this make any sense to you?
Douglas smiles and someone else answers.
100 percent doctor… It means the hunt has begun doc, one down, many more to go! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
It’s late at night, in a back alley somewhere, a group of men play dice by a fire coming from a metal barrel. They are drinking beer, throwing dollar bills around, joking around and having a good time despite the crappy conditions they seem to be in and around. One of those men, surprisingly, is Douglas Crane, who is wearing thorn jeans, a colorful hoodie and Carhartt beanie. He is the one that has the most cash in his hands, and not only singles but all denominations. He throws the dice, hits an 11 and collects more cash.
Crane: Looks like lady luck is on my side tonight fellas! First, I win my big match against LeeAnne Morgan, earn my shot at the Uprising Warrior title and to boot, I’m taking yall’s money.
Man: Yo whatever man, roll the dice, you ain’t hitting 7 or 11 again. Double up, let’s go.
Crane: Alright bet.
All 4 players throw money down; Crane grabs the dice and shoots them at the wall. The dice bounce off and come to a stop at 5 and a 2; Crane smirks, his buddies, not so much.
Man: Son of a bitch!
Crane: I can’t lose tonight; hopefully at the pay per view I won’t lose either against Betsy Gallagher and -.
Man: Ain’t nobody cares about no damn pay per view or a stupid title or who you are fighting!
The man stands up, reaches inside his pants and pulls out a gun. The other two men want no part of this and quickly run off. Crane stands up slowly and puts his hands up.
Crane: Why you gotta be like that man? I’m just trying to celebrate my big win with cha… Want to tell you about my fatal four-way match, it’s a big deal for me… We boys man, and besides, it’s just a game, we’re just having fun out playa.
Man: Nah, you having fun taking all our money, and pretending to talk in a slang you have no idea how to use! You a wrestler, right? So, you don’t need this money right here and if you beat that Betsy chick you get even more money, so why you need to come hustle us for money huh?
Crane: I’m a hustla baby.
Man: STOP IT! You ain’t no hustla cracka, I’m a hustla, H-U-S-T-L-E-R, hustla! I don’t mess around and you about to find out if you don’t step off. Actually, nah, what you gonna do to avoid getting your ass capped is give me all that dough in your hand, whatever money you got in your pockets, and your wallet too.
Before Crane can answer or even think about handing stuff off, a motorcycle comes roaring into the alley. Both look towards it as it comes to a stop some 5 yards from them. The rider parks it, turns off the light and while the man with the gun doesn’t quite pick up who he is, Crane recognizes him right away. He then elbows the man on the face and quickly grabs the gun from him.
Crane: Take the cream and run.
The man holds his bloody nose in pain but analyzes what Crane just said, he looks at him and then at the unknown biker and then quickly grabs the cash on the ground and runs off. Crane points the gun at the biker who is slowly approaching him, once he gets close enough to the fire, he realizes it is him, The Monstrosity. Hustler Crane points the gun at him.
Crane: That’s close enough foo’, whatcha doing here?
Came to send you back.
Crane: I ain’t going back mofo! I like being out!
It’s not your turn.
Crane: It never is partna! I’m tired of waiting for ya’ll to pass me the baton! Look what happened because I came out? We won the match! We earn that title shot!
I won us the match, you had nothing to do with it. You weren’t even there.
Crane: Hell yeah I was!
No, you only showed up to take the cash like you always do. Well, no more, The Valet has made the call, there are too many of us out now, we’re too unstable, it’s affecting us not only mentally but inside the ring we love. We got by LeeAnn but now we not only got her again, but also Gallagher and the champ himself… We can’t have this happening during our title match against English, we won’t stand a chance; he’s not like anyone we have faced before. If we want to get what we believe is ours, we must defeat him and it won't be easy. We need to be perfect in every way if we want to do what nobody else has been able to do up to now. The man is methodical not only in the way he carries himself but what he does in the ring. He is a psychotic artist inside and out of it and on top of that, he is not very pleasant at all from what I have seen. He uses many tactics to defeat his opponents, many tools, but I think the sharpest and best tool Mr. English has at his disposal is his tongue. If we are able to calm our mind, make our brain whole, we can keep him out of our head long enough where he has no choice but to beat us physically and it is there where I know we have the advantage over him. You have seen Mr. English, he doesn't look like much, and probably looked a little decent at some point in his life but all the smoking he does has eaten away at his life, at his body, at his soul... But not his mind, again, he is as sharp as they come and if we want to match wits with him we must be whole. We can't be many, we can't be legion, we must be one... The one to destroy Casanova English once and for all... The one to pin him to the mat if we have to, not Morgan or Gallaher, but him. He is the one that must go down! And I much rather hold his tiny little head in between my arms and put him to sleep permanently. Do you understand now? Before we can eliminate our opponents in the ring, we, no, I must eliminated all of you. The Valet has made the ruling, you have been checked out, permanently.
Crane: Ha! Yeah right! I am out to gets mine, I’m out to get that shinning Warrior Rising title for me, myself and I and I’m not gonna let the boogey man stop me. The others may fear your ass, but I don’t fear no man and I’m not afraid to look over my shoulder or to sleep at night because you may come for me. I don’t care what The Valet says, he can’t revoke my key.
Crane flashes his meat cleaver, and the flames from the fire reflect on it. The Hustler just laughs.
Crane: You bring a knife to a gun fight beastie… You is a fool!
Hustla Crane pulls the trigger a couple of times but The Monstrosity shows Matrix like reflexes and brings the meat cleaver up just in time, causing the bullets to bounce off it, one ricocheting off the wall and ending up right in between The Hustler’s eyes. He drops to his knees, never taking his eyes off ‘the boogeyman’ and then drops to the floor, dead. Crane walks over to confirm his kill, kneels and searches his pockets until he finds a hotel room key. As he grabs it, a man’s voice comes from behind him.
Man: Hey, what’s going on over there?
The man uses a flashlight and as he makes his way over and gets closer, we see that it is a police officer and his partner. As they arrive at the scene, they don’t find Crane, either of them. Just a dead hobo with a single gunshot wound to the head. They look at each other confused, wondering what the hell just happened.
Crane stands at the top the building, looking down at the alley.
Two down, more to go, but before we do that, Casanova English reign must come to end, and I know Betsy Gallagher is not the one to do it, she has tried and failed. LeeAnn Morgan couldn't get past us then, she won't get past us now... This is what we have been after from day one, it's always been about this championship so with all due respect Casanova, we will be the ones that bring your reign to an end.
