AMA Brian Zewbowski v. Brandon Roberts

[Kross Rhodes]

AMA GRAND CHAMPIONSHIP
Gold Rush Tournament
Opening Round Match
Brian Zewbowski v. Brandon Roberts

Deadlines
❂ Remember that role-plays are to be received no later than 11:59 PM EST on Tuesday, June 29th, 2021.

 

[Vegeta]

Fade in, Last Man Standing had just ended, Brandon Roberts sits backstage as other wrestlers can be heard in the background talking, he sighs to himself with a bit of a smile, you can tell that tonight didn't fully go as planned as he stands up, tossing his bag over his shoulder and heads out of the Locker Room, as the scene fades out slowly.

On the screen you see "Moments After the Gold Rush Brackets are released" as it slowly fades back in, Brandon Roberts can be seen looking at his phone as he looks over the matches, seeing that he had to face Brian Zewbowski in the opening round. He chuckled a little bit before pushing his hair back and the scene transitions to him standing outside looking around at how peaceful everything was, not looking into the camera as he started to talk.

Brandon Roberts: You know, they say that moments like this are a once in a life time thing, there can only be one first, only one person can rise to the top of that tall mountain top of success. Throughout history they have been plenty of first, and all of them go down in history books as someone people all over the world remember. You got the first man to walk on the moon, you got the first men to fly, the first prime minister of Canada, all of them everyone of them are in history books, everyone of them the first to do something GREAT. Now it's time for me to put my name in the history books, it's time for me to rise up to the challenge before me, and etch my name in history as the FIRST AMA Champion.

Brandon finally turns towards the camera, a small little smile on his face as he laughs.

Brandon Roberts: Now you see, when it came to Last Man Standing, and it came to the Battle Royal, my goal, it wasn't to win, because I don't need that stupid Number 1 Contender thing to fall back on, I don't need that safety net, because quite frankly I'm better than anyone else in this whole deal. My goal however, I did fail at, my goal going into that match was to make sure Mr Sanders didn't walk away with that honor, and where he does have to share it, that still is a failure on my part. So now my goal is to make sure he can't even use that right, to make sure he not only loses the Gold Rush, but he loses his career as well. Because you see when you have the touch of someone from the Great White North, you have this power inside of you that no one else in this world can even fathom. Rather it's America, Japan, Mexico, England, YOU NAME IT! It fails in comparisons to Canada. So the only other people in this whole deal who even have a shadow of a chance to win besides myself, is my fellow Canadians. Because each, and every single of us is bred for this business, it's almost as if we was made in a lab because we do this better than ANYONE else can even dream of doing, can even come close to doing.

Brandon Roberts then walks over towards a sit, pouring himself some of the Finest Canadian Whiskey money can buy as he starts to sip on it and smiled.

Brandon Roberts: Which brings me to my opponent for the first round of this tournament. Brian Zewbowski, a man who's quite frankly not all there int he head. A man who doesn't measure up. The only problem with him is, that you never truly know who you're going to get, and that's fine with me, because it doesn't matter to me if he's this bitch of a man Brian Zewbowski, or if he's Humanity, the results will be the same, THE WINNER OF THE MATCH, GOD'S GIFT TO CANADA, THE TRUE CANADIAN HERO, CANADA'S GREATEST EXPORT, BRANDON ROBERTS! Because you see, there is no way some punk from the state of Minnesota is going to beat me. A state that knows all about failing, a state that knows all about coming CLOSE to greatness, but never being able to grab that brass ring and run with it.

Pouring himself some more Whiskey, Brandon shakes his head he drinks on it more.

Brandon Roberts: So Brian, you bring every last thing you have, bring your heart, your soul, your fight, your courage, your LAST BREATH! Wrap it all up on a nice little gift, put a bow on top and get ready for the FIGHT of your life, and get ready to come up just a little short on your goal. I'll see you in Charlotte..

The scene fading out as a countdown clock is seen, counting down to the match.
​

 

[Bobby Barrows]

"If I am mad, it is mercy!"
- H.P. Lovecraft

Part III:
Cast Them Into Hell

St. Matthew's Holy Catholic Church, Sleepy Oak, Minnesota, July 12, 2045

*We open in the holy diocese of Sleepy Oak, St. Matthew's Holy Catholic Church, a neo-Gothic chapel constructed in the late 20th century by the Catholic arch-diocese of St.Paul-Minnesota. Here we see a familiar gentleman worn in his priestly garments, Father Patrick Remus enter through the doors of the church. Father Remus's face looks gaunt, shocked, and he is sweating profusely. To the average viewer, it would appear the intense Minnesota heat is getting to the Father. There is much normal church business being done inside, a few prayers made by singular worshippers, confessionals are open, and several nuns are here as well. Father Remus slowly walks through this crowd, to enter the back halls to his office, but he is stopped by a voice.*
​

???: Father Remus! I didn't see you come in.

*Remus nervously twists around to face the voice approaching him. It is a young-ish lady, a woman of the cloth. This nun appears to be in her 20's, impressionable, and full of fervor. This is Sister Anne.*
​

Sister Anne: Father, you look like you've seen a ghost! Are you alright?

Father Remus: Worry not, my child, I- just returned from visiting a friend.

Sister Anne: It wouldn't happen to be that Brian Zewbowski person, right?

*Father Remus nervously wipes the sweat from his brow.*
​

Father Remus: W-why yes, of course.

Sister Anne: Interesting, Father. Is he as interesting as the other nuns say he is?

Father Remus: What do- what do they know about Mr. Zewbowski?

Sister Anne: Oh they tell me lots of stuff. They say he's possessed by a demon and that he is one of those occultist types.

Father Remus: Well- I- I wouldn't believe everything you hear, my child! Brian is... someone of great interest indeed.

Sister Anne: Is that so, Father! I'd love to visit him with you and see for myself some time if that's alright with you.

*Father Remus nods quietly, he isn't sure how to respond to this. Sister Anne is a lovely person, but her youth and naivete could lead her to be swayed by Brian's talk of madness. All he knows is that he needs to leave this conversation.*​

Father Remus: Yes- Of course... sometime soon. If you may excuse me, my child, I have some business to take care of.

Sister Anne: Of course, Father!

*Father Remus excuses himself and heads to his office. Once inside he sighs and wipes more sweat from his face. He goes to his desk and sits down, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. He slowly reaches down into his desk and pulls out a few texts, seemingly written in Latin. Father Remus quietly reads them and ponders to himself, muttering aloud.*
​

Father Remus: Dear Father in Heaven... could such a thing really exist... Ammar?

*Father Remus tries to remember what he was told today by Brian, in that asylum. He tries to chalk it up to crazy talk from a man who needs help but with that book, the Mundi Deglutiens, and Brian's... other half, he cannot stop thinking that there's a real possibility that it's... real. What was it Brian had told him...?*​

Harvey Brenton's Office, Sleepy Oak, Minnesota, April 30, 2021 *We return to the office space of one Harvey Brenton, a man of Humanity's past, and one who Brian had met previously, though in another world... The two of Brian/Humanity and Harvey are gathered around his desk, the Mundi Deglutiens, a vile book of death and destruction placed in the center of the table.*​ Harvey Brenton: Well, Brian, what has Mortis told you, exactly? Brian: I have to admit, not a damn thing. I don’t even know what Mortis is? Harvey: Shocking, Mortis being intentionally vague. *Brian's face warps into that of the visage known as Humanity, or in this case, Mortis. Brian's blue eyes shift to a dark brown, and his face grows harder. A more stern and calloused expression grows on the face, signifying that Humanity is in control now. Brian and he switch off control for when they wish to speak.*​ Humanity: I’m not sure I appreciate the insinuation. *Harvey shakes his head and merely continues, ignoring the vague threat of whatever it is inside Brian.*​ Harvey: Listen, Brian; that thing inside you, this other person: Mortis. Mortis is what he’s called- they call him many other things throughout history: Death, the Grim Reaper, Thanatos, Morta, Osiris, Nergal, Hel… but he is Primus Mortis, the “First Death”. You have in you, for all intents and purposes, an eldritch monstrosity of death. *To Harvey's own surprise, Brian merely nods and shrugs.*​ Brian: Well I knew that much; have you seen what I’ve been through with him? Harvey: You’re… not surprised? Brian: No, I’m not surprised. I’m a wrestler, Harvey, he’s put my body through things that would kill a normal man just for fun. Humanity: He’s not wrong. I did it for pleasure too. *Harvey is slightly repulsed at Humanity for that statement and shudders.*​ Harvey: I didn’t need to hear that part, Mortis. *Brian taps down on the book, Mundi Deglutiens, trying to move the conversation along.*​ Brian: So what does he have to do with this book? Harvey: I’m getting to that- Mundi Deglutiens, we call it. Have you ever heard of Ammar before today? *Brian pauses and thinks to himself. He has heard of Ammar once before, in that place...*​ Brian: As a matter of fact- Yes, from you. In that destroyed library. Harvey: I see- What do you know about Ammar? Brian: Not a damn thing. You and… Mortis… keep going on about this thing and nobody ever explains any of it. Harvey: Well, since Mortis is too stubborn to talk about it, perhaps I will. *Harvey sighs and lights up a cigarette, he takes a few puffs from it and rubs his eyes before proceeding to spin a yarn of what exactly is going on. Brian anxiously listens in, as his curiosity compels him to continue to stay.*​ Harvey: They say it was born from the nothingness of the mawing universe. A creation of destruction. This thing, a world-eating planetary beast of endless corruption. According to ancient religious texts, this Ammar was an angel; it was an angel of destruction. This angel fell into the sin of gluttony, its appetite for destruction too powerful. God had to stop it from devouring its creation of Earth and man. God pulled Ammar from the universe and had pulled it from the expanse of everything into the crushing pit of nothingness. There Ammar lay, in a dimension where nothing lives, but nothing dies. That’s… the Abrahamic story, at least. *There's a tense moment of silence for Brian to process everything that he's heard. He starts to speak slowly.*​ Brian: So we’re fighting an angel? Humanity: Hardly. Ammar is no angel, that’s for sure. Just a hungry bastard. How do I know this? Well- it’s my sibling. *Brian bursts out laughing nervously, completely shocked by what his other half just said.*​ Brian: It’s your what!? Humanity: Sibling. We’re born from the same miasmic being. I call it a sibling because, well, we really don’t have a gender, either of us. Gender is a human construct to us; it doesn’t really exist anyways. *Harvey, being a man from the 1940s, doesn't agree with that, but isn't willing to fight a literal personification of death over it.*​ Harvey: Er… sure. Anyways, Brian, we’re not fighting an angel here. It’s far… less angelic than you think. Humanity: If you saw what Ammar really looked like, you humans would all probably die of fright. Just know he’s something akin to… what is that called, “Hellstar Remina”? Brian: … The Junji Ito story? Humanity: Yeah… I might have given him a little inspiration for that. How else do you think he’s such a good author? *Harvey looks on confused and isn't sure what they're talking about.*​ Harvey: I’ve never heard of this Ito fella. Humanity: He’s Japan’s Lovecraft. Harvey: Gotcha. *Harvey nods his head then, and Brian just stares off into the distance.*​ Brian: So we’re talking- a giant planet that eats other planets… Humanity: More or less. It doesn’t just eat whole planets. Stars. Galaxies. Hell, the only reason you’re all still alive is that it tried to eat a black hole. Needless to say, it failed, miserably. Now it’s stuck in a pocket dimension where he is neither alive nor dead. Even then, in that expanse of nothingness, he’s begun to devour the nothingness and gain his power back so that he may one day escape. To do so, at the advent of humanity's rise as an intelligent species, Ammar did something that I’ve done in the past. He made a smaller copy of himself; a vessel, so to speak. Brian: So… he made someone like me carry him around inside his head? *Harvey puffs from his cigarette and shakes his head at this statement.**​ Harvey: Not quite. I’ve met his vessel more than a few times. Ammar’s power is so great that he could mentally project and create an entire human out of nothingness. Brian, have you ever heard the name Ammar Abd Al-Allahmayit? Brian: I have never heard anyone by that name. Harvey: It’s an Arabic name. Originated from the 9th Century; it means, “Long-Lived Servant of the Dead God”. Humanity: Ammar isn’t the most clever of folks, I’ll tell you that at least. Harvey: I have met Allahmayit. Not only have I met him, but I’ve also fought against him. The reason you had to travel to another world to procure the Mundi Deglutiens, was because I destroyed it before he could free Ammar from his prison. He changes his name, and his appearance every few decades to throw off suspicion. Last I knew… he was Calvin Bullard, a professor of Semitic Languages at Sleepy Oak University. He used this job as a cover to reproach and collect more ancient texts to rebuild the Mundi Deglutiens from scratch. I shot him in the head four years ago. Brian: So we’re safe right? Harvey: That didn’t kill him. I’ve been shooting him and trying to kill him since… 1948. *There's an exasperated expression on Brian's face, as he cannot quite believe what he's even hearing. This man, who looks barely over forty, has been trying to kill the same person since the 1940s!?*​ Brian: Wait, hold on, how old are you? Harvey: Age no longer matters with me. If you must know though… I was born in 1922. Brian: You’re telling me you’re 99 years old? Harvey: 98, actually, I was born in October. Brian: I have heard it all now- You hear that!? We’re talking to an old ass man who still looks like he’s in his forties! Humanity: Does that surprise you? I gave him his agelessness. *Brian has so many questions now. Not only is there an all-devouring god, the personification of death, but immortality is real and can be given away like candy. This leads to his next question.*​ Brian: I- Wait. Does that mean I’m ageless? Harvey: Let’s hope not. Immortality fucking sucks, friend. *Brian stands up quickly and just smacks the desk in front of him. Too much information and not enough actual answers.*​ Brian: Can we please just get to the point! What does all of this mean!? If this Ammar Abd Al-whatsit fella is still alive and looking to get *that* book, why the fuck are we bringing it to this world!? Just leave it in the other world! Humanity: You would think it’s just that simple, Brian. Did you ever think for one second that because we can move through time and dimensions, he could too? Brian: I- Well- Th-then why don’t we just light this book on fire and be done with it- Problem solved right? Harvey: Hardly. We can’t just solve it by burning it. To prove his point, Harvey pulls a lighter out of his jacket, and flips it on, resting the flame under the book. As if by some magic, the book refuses the flame, not even darkening from the intense heat of it. When Harvey puts the lighter back in his jacket, he presents the book, completely unharmed.​ Harvey: Normal flame doesn’t do jack shit to it. Brian: It’s a magical book, I get it. So how exactly do we destroy it? Harvey: We’re going to have to perform a ritual to destroy it. Humanity: It’s called the Ritual of Destruction. Remember, Ammar is a being of destruction, Brian. The only way to destroy it is to pay a tribute of destruction through ritual… It’s ironic, in a way. We’re siblings, two sides of the same coin, but the biggest difference between us is that I represent the graceful nature of death, and he, the destructive nature of death. Brian: Graceful nature, my ass. You put my body through hell and tore me a new one just for fun. Humanity: Trust me, Brian, if it comes between Ammar and myself, you’re going to wish I continued to put your body through that. *Harvey frowns at the bickering duo and claps his hands together to get their attention.*​ Harvey: If you two are done… I would like to hold onto this book for a while. It will be safe under my protection here. I must ask that you two help me, however. Before we can do the ritual, there are a few things here in Sleepy Oak that are of importance. Brian: Is it about these missing kids? *Brian points to the notes strewn about the wall: newspaper clippings, articles, and documents regarding the sudden disappearance of 14 children in the Sleepy Oak Forest in 1957. Harvey sighs as if he's remembering all about that case and how it still haunts him today.*​ Harvey: That- is just one of them. I’m not asking for much, but if we’re going to get the ritual done as soon as possible, these have to be done first. They’re linked to Ammar and his cult- I just know it is. *Brian reaches his hand out to meet Harvey's own, and the two slowly shake hands. Brian feels a piece of regret for what he feels is a mistake here. Perhaps he should just... run. Is this really worth it? After everything he's heard, can he really stand by and try to fight forces he barely even understands? There is this great feeling in the pit of his stomach as he shakes Harvey's hand... it's a feeling that moves men and ends civilizations: dread.*​ Brian: It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, do I. Very well, Harvey, I will help you.

Bojangles Coliseum, Charlotte, North Carolina, July 6, 2021 *Backstage we see Brian stretching in the locker room. Out of nowhere Sarah DuBois appears and taps Brian on the shoulder. He jumps right out of his boots almost, and shakes his head.​ Brian: Jesus, stop scaring me like that. Sarah: Brian, you're always so jumpy. I think I'm gonna keep doing it! ​ *Sarah grins teasingly at Brian and pokes his side to get him a little more jumpy.*​ Brian: Thanks. I *really* appreciate that. Sarah: Are you sure you're really ready for this? Considering how your last two matches have gone? ​ *Sarah look on inquisitively to Brian to check his response.*​ Brian: Honestly. I don't know. I... haven't really been myself lately. There's a lot on my mind. Sarah: Let me guess, it was that visit months ago. Brian: I don't know. Lately, I feel... dread. ​ *Brian's feeling at the pit of his stomach is that of utter dread. That word again. It's a symptom of Ammar's influence. The cannibal god of destruction. Brian never mentioned this to Sarah however. It would be too much for her to handle.* Sarah: Dread? What is that supposed to mean? Brian: You wouldn't understand. This dread, it's overwhelming. There are forces at work here that I just can't understand, and yet I have to deal with them? Sarah: You're being too hard on yourself, Brian. Knowing you, you'll be able to overcome anything if you put your mind to it. Brian: ... and suppose I lose my mind attempting to overcome it?​ ​ *A sudden slap comes out of nowehere as Sarah stares daggers into the man she supports day in and day out. The man who she has feelings for, the man she respects. To see him in such a pitiful state pisses her off.*​ Sarah: Brian! We're talking about the AMA Championship here. If you keep spending your time wallowing in self-pity, you're never going to be a champion. Think about it. You're gonna walk in there with Brandon Roberts and make a complete ass of yourself because you can't even focus on what makes you happy. It's all about that god damn book and your obsession with your alter ego. Can't you ever learn to just let it go? Ignore it for one fleeting moment and *win*? ​ *There's a tense moment of silence. Sarah turns her back to Brian angrily, as Brian sighs in frustration and rubs his eyes. He finishes and nods his head as if he finally came to understand something.*​ Brian: ... Perhaps you're right. This is an important tournament that I'm a part of. If I let this dread take over me now, I'll never achieve what I want. My personal desire is to win. I must become the first AMA Champion, even if I must move the heavens and the earth. ​ *Sarah whips around and smacks Brian on the arm with a grin. Brian can't help but smile at Sarah. There's no way he can say no to her when she's like that.*​ Sarah: That's the spirit! Just when you think you're down and out when you don't know if you can believe in yourself any longer, just remember Brian: "Don't believe in yourself. Believe in the me that believes in you!" Brian: Brandon Roberts won't know what hit him. Let's go win ourselves a tournament. ​ - Later That Night - *Brian stands backstage in the interview area by himself, he's looking into the camera with a focused glare written across his face. He rubs his hands together and starts to speak.* ​ Brian: So here we are. AMA Wrestling has begun its tournament to crown a champion and they've chosen me as one of the combatants. How fitting. Now I admit, I've been off my game the last few weeks, personal problems getting in the way of my focus. Rest assured, I have to overcome those and prepare for the *now*. Namely, my first opponent in this tournament, Brandon Roberts. Roberts, I'm gonna be totally honest, you're a good wrestler. You know your way around the ring better than most folks who have ever laced up a pair of boots, but your attitude and ego are what keep you down. You talk a big game, you and your other Canadian friends who gloat about the glory of the Maple Leaf. ​ *Brian laughs and shakes his head.*​ Brian: Listen hard, and listen good, Roberts. I want you, and the other goons to know one thing; I was cordial in the past, even interested in what you had to say, but not anymore. Selfishness and ego are traits that I never have associated with the people of Canada. You see, when I think of Canada, I think of brethren by culture. Minnesotans and Canadians have a hardy similarity between the two. Roberts, you on the other hand, and the other goons in this company are nothing but over-zealous morons. Step into the ring with me tonight Brandon, and the only Maple Leaf there will be the Maple Leaf Rag when you lose. ​ *Brian snaps his fingers, like that. His face warps and the color of his eyes change. We're in the presence of his other half, Humanity. His stern expression gives off an intense stare. Those eyes of his are so cold, so dilated. As if they're piercing past the camera and into the soul of the viewer. This is what it's like to stand before him.*​ Humanity: Now I said that you were a good wrestler, and I'm not about to back down on that statement. However, you cannot claim to be God's Gift to anything when you haven't beaten the best. I assure you, Brandon, I'll give you my best, and if you beat me, only then can you ever claim to be God's Gift, because you'll have beaten a God then. See you tonight; better bring your brown pants when I'm done with you.​