The arena crew was just clearing the last of the carnage held over from the previous ladder match, six people sure to have left a mark on more than just the audience, but the ringside, as well. While some people took the opportunity to find a bathroom or concession stand, others waited in their seats, rewarded by a surprising dose of base that was accompanied by a springy dose of treble. Intrigued, many in the audience looked towards the stage and ramp, interest piqued by the peculiar music.
JR: "Well, now, I wonder what this is about, King?"
King: "Your guess is as good as mine, J.R.! I take that back, you'll NEVER guess as good as me! But I have no idea!"
JR: "Well, that's no surprise to me, King, but for once, I agree with you."
The first verse of the chorus was drowned out by the sudden rumble of a motorcycle engine, a lone headlight shining through the access tunnel into the arena. Excited by the turn of events, some people in the audience cheered as the light grew larger and more luminescent, an effect of the rider's approach into the arena proper. A black chassis, chrome pipes pumping thunderous noise, the bike maneuvered onto the entrance ramp, it's passenger hidden by a package of ebony racing gloves, leather jacket, and racing helmet.
King: "You think this guy got lost on his way to the biker rally, JR? It IS Las Vegas - doesn't anyone have a hoop of fire for him to jump through?!"
JR: "I'm as perplexed as you are, King, but I'm interested to see where this is going. Who is this mysterious guest making his way into the MGM Arena?"
King: "All that leather, maybe he's one of the Village People!"
JR: "You're the village idiot, King."
Having put down the kickstand after riding out to ringside, the broad-shouldered figure stepped off the motorcycle and approached the ring steps, picking up a microphone left on the apron by a nearby ring hand. Ducking underneath the top rope, the helmeted character walked out towards the middle of the mat, looking out towards the crowd and the hard camera for a moment as the music died and the applause died to a dull thrum. Slowly, the figure tugged at the fingertips of his gloves, tossing them to the WWF:G logo beneath him, revealing his hands.
Taped hands.
JR: "Could it be?!"
King: "Oh, no!"
The crowd started to get more excited now, the cheering beginning to escalate as the figure lifted off the racing helmet and tossed it away, revealing his face. Despite the chinstrap beard, the features were unmistakable. The shaggy, black hair...the muddy brown eyes, the bronzed complexion distinctive of his Native American ancestry. It was Salem Croft, letting out a triumphant roar as he tugged his jacket open, leaning back to feel the pop from the crowd wash over him as he exposed the white Superman logo emblazoned on his black t-shirt underneath.
JR: "IT IS! He's BACK, King! The M.W. Deuce has returned to the WWFG!"
King: "Good grief! More like the M.W. Don't! I never liked that guy! Hey, you two have something in common, JR! Heheh!"
JR: "How about you try closing your big mouth for a minute so we can listen to what HE has to say, King."
Sure enough, Salem was now looking more subdued from his sudden howl a moment earlier, having soaked enough of the moment as the fans chanted 'WELCOME BACK!' to him. Standing in the middle of the ring, Croft stared down at his feet as he lifted the mic up, speaking quietly into the stick.
"It's...been a while since I've been here. Really been here, I mean...really felt like I had something to prove. It all started for me in this very ring. My career, what it's been, never would've happened if it weren't for the WWFG and the fans I made debuting here."
Looking up and around him for a second, Salem collected his thoughts as the crowd applauded, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"For that, I'm grateful - but when I first came here, I wanted competition, not cheers. I didn't care what people thought of me. I wasn't out to make friends. But no matter how far you think you can get on your own...it gets crazy, on the road. Day in, day out, different cities every day. Never the same crowd twice. You find out new things about yourself and the people around you all the time. You make friends...and enemies. Somewhere along the way, the politics of it all killed my spirit. They say, 'Take the throne to act, and the throne acts upon you'. Well, that's absolutely true. When I took over this company, it was to take it in a new direction...but in the end, I lost sight of the direction I was heading in. Before long, I got tired of the bullshit. I'd seen the ugly underbelly of the industry, and my passion... just started to die out. So I left...but the itch didn't fade away. Not by a long shot..."
Letting his words sink in with the audience, Salem slowly started to pace along the ropes, looking down at the middle distance in front of his feet as he walked.
"...So, I went back to the gym in Indy. I hunted deer with family in Louisville. I got into some bar fights in Nashville. Took on some street fights in Atlanta. I garaged the tour bus, paid my driver a nice severance package, sold a lot of the junk I've collected with the money I didn't need, and put some back for my nephew to go to college and not fall into the same habits his uncle has. Habits like looking for underground fight clubs as I drive from city to city. Habits like bare-knuckle brawling in back alleys to find my edge, sharpening it in cages and parking garages and moldy basements, beating people into the ground with just my hands, my feet, and my desire to take all that pain, all that frustration, all that weight I've carried on my back for all this time and channel it into strength...so I could one day come back here, and become WWFG World Heavyweight Champion."
The crowd popped loudly at the soft-spoken but emotional monologue, Salem catching his breath a moment while looking down, too distracted by his thoughts to process the warm fan reception.
"Because try as I might to get away from this place, as much as I want to leave it all behind...I want to fight that much more...and I've got unfinished business. Here lately, lists are pretty popular in wrestling. People write them on napkins and clipboards, well...I've got a list of my own. Right up here." He said, tapping his temple with the index finger on his empty hand. "A list of people I have scores to settle with...people like Cartwright, who spoiled my Money in the Bank cash-in. But also people I feel I just need to fight...people like the person I'm calling out right now, one-on-one...a man by the name of 'Lone Wolf' Lauri Henry."
The crowd started to chant 'YES!' at this bold challenge, but Salem cut them off quickly after the brief pause.
"I'm not talking about Karen cross-dressing, either...though, if she's interested, I'm sure I could make it work." He teased, winking to the camera before facing the stage. "But Lauri, you and I have circled 'round each other since I got here...we both smell blood in the air every time we cross paths...well, I'm calling you out. It's time we finally do this, but make no mistake - I'm not challenging you to a match, Henry...I'm challenging you to a dog fight. I'm challenging you to see if you've still got one last war in you...see if you're willing to bust me in my chops for real instead of just talking about it. So, whaddya say, Lauri? Are you gonna give me what I want?" Salem asked, extending his arms out to either side in a questioning gesture. As the crowd grew louder, Salem tilted the mic back in his direction.
"Are you going to give the PEOPLE what THEY want?!" He asked again, holding the microphone up above his head, the audience on their feet and yelling in approval and anticipation.
JR: "What a stunning turn of events as Salem Croft, the former CEO of the company, the Most Wanted Man in Wrestling, has just returned and picked a fight with the 'Lone Wolf' Lauri Henry! This Las Vegas crowd is on their feet tonight!"
King: "Well, they better sit back down, JR, and Salem better go on home if he knows what's good for him! Hes barking up the wrong tree this time!"
Salem lowered his microphone and spread his arms out, revealing more of the white Superman logo as he watched and waited for a potential reaction from his desired opponent.
