TheDeanAmbrose.
This was the twitter handle of the current EBWF World Champion. Despite having numerous followers he had yet to post a single message. It was collecting dust. Most every superstar on the active roster, and even some that weren't, were very prolific in their use of the social media tool. There were some exceptions, such as CM Punk, but even he had his bursts of activity. EBWF as a company seemed to thrive on a performers in-ring persona as much as their real life activities. 27 year old Johnathan Good, more commonly known as Dean Ambrose, was one of the few exceptions to that rule. Virtually nothing about his off-camera life was known.
Currently he was engaged in a brief meeting with EBWF's Executive Vice President of Talent Relations: Stephanie McMahon. Someone he was weary in speaking with after her rumored involvement in the build to WrestleMania. Namely having Punk and Christian swap the World Title two weeks before the show without giving one of the performers a heads up. This kind of thing made him severely doubt her worth in her current role. He sat across from her in a small, makeshift office during a Warfare event while Vince McMahon's daughter remained behind a desk. A baseball cap covered most of his face as he went out of his way to look as inconspicuous as possible when the camera's weren't on.
Stephanie McMahon: Alright, sir, I won't take up too much of your time. This is just to let you know that the board of directors are really enthusiastic about what you've done so far. Your work is great, we love your promo's and your matches are always off the charts. Colby is great fit with you and we think Joe Anoa'i is really going to adjust well in his role with you two. But we think maybe as World Champion you could get your name out there a little more. Take advantage of social media.
He looked up just slightly from underneath the brim of his hat.
Dean Ambrose: I'll explain it to you like this. Wrestling is really dumb, right? I mean it's fucking stupid when you really think about it.
Stephanie was slightly taken aback but slowly nodded to get the superstar to explain his point.
Dean Ambrose: Guys in there underwear making mean faces. But you would be amazed by how many people come to me in airports, when they recognize me, and ask me why I'm trying to end the EBWF. If I'm on twitter all day, talking about what kind of sandwich I ate, it sort of ruins that mystique. It's got a certain degree of realism to it, an edge. That's why I didn't want to do the Slammies, not because I wasn't appreciative, but I think it hurts the vibe. I mean, everyone knows Undertaker isn't really dead but he doesn't do public appearances because it would look weird. And if I make tweets in character I'm just going to look like an idiot.
Stephanie McMahon: I suppose it makes sense when you think about it that way.
Dean Ambrose: That and I don't need my personal life out there. I saw what happened to CM Punk and his girlfriend and all that shit with Cena I'm not trying to do that. Guys like Miz want the whole world to know who they're dating, and that's cool for him, but not for me.
It looked as though the gears were starting to turn in Stephanie's head.
Stephanie McMahon: I do understand. We'll think of different ways to market you three. We'll come up with something fresh. Speaking of Miz, this is your second singles main event match at a pay per view. Both of your styles might clash a bit but we're looking for big results.
He had worked with Mike plenty of times in the past. When he began to think about, he had probably worked with Miz or AJ Styles the most out of anyone on the roster, almost immediately being tossed into the tag team division with them.
Dean Ambrose: You don't have anything to worry about. I've worked Miz plenty times. What we've built with The Shield is going to make the crowd hot for every near fall. They want to see me lose, whether it's against Miz or anyone else. It's easy. We've already got it made. I'm not here to be a lower card guy. I want to run this place, alright? This is going to be the best match Miz is going to have all year and everyone is going to make money.
Despite only being with the company for a brief amount of time, he saw very little reason not to command respect for himself. He knew he was good and they knew it as well. They weren't just going to hand this kind of push to someone they didn't have complete faith in. His rookie year was probably one of the best the EBWF had ever seen and there was no room for a lack of confidence or any wasted movements. It wasn't arrogance. Just hunger.
Stephanie McMahon: That's what we like to here. Is there anything you need from us? Anything at all?
Silence filled the room. One request did slip into his mind after giving it some thought.
Dean Ambrose: I need some helicopters.
-----
Spinning rotors cut through the chilly night air in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Numerous, solid black crafts landed in a field that's location was known only to a select few. It looked like the kind of place conspiracy theorists might swear alien abductions would take place. Or where unsavory mafia types might dump bodies of those who had wronged them. Members of The Shield had departed from the helicopters and assembled in a drill formation. Side to side, arms folded at their sides, statuesque. All dressed entirely in black outfits, mostly indistinguishable from one another in that regard. The dropping temperature may have been on their minds but they had far more pressing matters to concern themselves with. Amongst this lineup were a few exceptions who stood in their own, individual spots, independent of the mob.
Seth Rollins, the constant collaborator with the groups leader. He was almost wraith like in his stance as his long hair hung in front of his face and blew about in the wind. His lanky frame was motionless and that made him look even more like a lifeless ghost.
Also present was the large, dark haired man who had made a startling impact at Warfare by spearing The Miz into oblivion. His right arm was covered in a Samoan tribal sleeve tattoo and he struck an incredibly imposing sight.
And at the forefront was World Champion Dean Ambrose. His hair was in a state of disarray from the gusts of winds the twirling blades had produced but it's not as if being cosmetically appealing ever crossed his mind. His gold title was held tightly by it's strap and drug along the ground. Despite the championship's lineage, Ambrose had stated on numerous occasion's that it meant absolutely nothing to him.
Dean Ambrose: We have..a lot of business to take care of..some..persistent issues that are just..
The champ maneuvered his fingers about in the air as if he was literally trying to grasp the idea and strangle it.
Dean Ambrose: ..gnawing away at me. But first I need to introduce someone that Miz got to meet real up close and personal Monday Night. I've told everyone that there were members of The Shield that are ready to be brought up to the forefront and this man is one of them. State your name.
The camera panned to the grim, serious man with his arms folded over his chest.
Roman Reigns: Roman Reigns.
His voice was deep, booming and commanded respect.
Dean Ambrose: And just why exactly..are you apart of The Shield? Hm?
Roman Reigns: I'm a member of the Anoa'i family. Deep heritage in the wrestling business. Yokozuna. Rikishi. My father is Sika of The Wild Samoans. A hall of famer. The Rock is my "cousin".
Dean Ambrose: So just why in the world would you want to join up with a group that is trying to tear down everything your family is known for?
Roman Reigns: My brother..
A tinge of disgust could heard forming within the newest members of The Shield's voice.
Roman Reigns: ..is also a wrestler. He dressed up like a clown and degraded himself for Vince McMahon.
Ambrose nodded along at each of Reigns' very direct and impact words.
Dean Ambrose: Literally went out in front of a live, television audience in front of millions of people with "SHIT" written across his chest.
Roman Reigns: My father pill addicted drunk. Who eventually only stuck around to get enough money for his next fix. I had to see things a child shouldn't have to see all because of pro wrestling.
Dean Ambrose: ..And..ah..what about The Rock? ..What about "The People's Champ"?
Roman Reigns: ..the less said the better. Pro wrestling made my entire life a struggle. Something most people wouldn't understand. So when I turn on the television and I see someone like The Miz out there treating it all like it's some kind of game..
Reigns' neck turned sharply to the side and his face began to tense up. Audience's have only seen him in action for a brief couple of moments but it already looked as though he was capable of an enormous amount of punishment.
Roman Reigns: ..again..the less said..the better.
Ambrose turned away from the group's muscle and spread his arms in an eagle-like formation.
Dean Ambrose: It's all a common theme. Lives ruined by this so-called "sport". This is another man who will put his body on the line for this cause. Another man who will fight for what we all believe and allow himself to be ravaged if necessary. Another fearless and..
Ambrose stopped himself and held up a finger, waving it about slowly while turning towards his line up of soldiers in a manner that probably caused a sense of dread for many of them.
Dean Ambrose: ..wait..wait..I guess..I can't say that, can I? Because everyone here..
He aimed his fingers like a pistol at the man who took orders from him.
Dean Ambrose: ..doesn't exactly fit that description. I honestly thought I had selected a pretty good team. I thought all of you had drive and will and some actual heart. I thought all of you would sacrifice yourselves for the good of the cause no matter what kind of pressure you were under. I mean, hey, take me for example. The Miz had me cornered with a steel chair and did you see me begging, whimpering, or pleading? NOPE. Granted, despite that fire in his eyes, I'm one hundred percent positive he didn't have the balls to smash my brains out anyway..the fact still remains. I was fighting and clawing to get back to my feet and that's exactly what I expect out of you. But I'm not getting that, AM I?
He began to look closer into the faces of some of the assembled men who didn't dare do anything other than stare a path forward.
Dean Ambrose: John Cena cornered one of you and you cracked. You made yourselves, myself, and most importantly, The Shield, look like a pack of cowards.
Mockingly, he began to imitate the voice of the member who Cena had threatened a few weeks ago in an exaggerated and pathetic tone.
Dean Ambrose: "I wasn't even there, Mr. Cena! I didn't attack you!" ..Really just disgusting. Do you want to know the proper response? Huh? He should have spit in Cena's face no matter what he was threatened with. As a matter of fact..where is that guy? Anyone? ..Anyone seen him?
Ambrose snatched one of the lackies by the chin and drew in threateningly close, it was obvious his temper was ticking away, before Rollins spoke up.
Seth Rollins: I have something arranged for that one.
The champion pushed the minion's face away without looking at him and gave a quick nod.
Dean Ambrose: Tops.
Walking along the line, Ambrose stopped in front of a random member. A bald guy with a beard who looked like he would easily fit in with a biker gang.
Dean Ambrose: Let me ask you a question. Answer it with truth and honesty because I'll be able to tell if you're lying. It's really a very simple question. ..Are..you..afraid..of John Cena?
Shield Member: ...
There was some hesitation and Ambrose cupped one of his ears while leaning a little closer.
Dean Ambrose: You're going to have to speak up.
Shield Member: Yes.
He finally managed to sputter out. A look of complete understanding appeared on Dean's face as he nodded in understanding. Appreciative of the honest answer. Before the look switched to a nasty scowl and he turned his back.
Dean Ambrose: Reigns. Spear this fucker.
The bald man's eyes turned enormous and before he could even think about reacting, Roman Reigns had very nearly speared him straight out of his combat boots. The rest of the line up backed away at the abrupt and unpredictable result of the pop quiz.
Dean Ambrose: Pathetic.
Ambrose stepped in front of another brute who was decked out from head to toe in black. A shaggy haired guy with large arms and a nice physique that was even obvious underneath all of his gear.
Dean Ambrose: Are YOU..afraid of John Cena?
Shield Member: No.
Dean Ambrose: Are you..afraid of The Miz?
He nearly scoffed at the question being posed to him.
Shield Member: Hell no.
Dean Ambrose: What would you do if Miz cornered you with a steel chair?
Shield Member: Spit right in his face.
This apparently was not the response that Dean was looking for as he rolled his eyes and turned his back to the man.
Dean Ambrose: Rollins.
A plastic bag was forced over the man's head, courtesy of Rollins. A very normal, every day object. But it looked far more threatening when it cut off your air and formed around your face. The guy was trying to scream but was unable to and the attempt probably was making his oxygen run out quicker. He passed out rather quickly and fell onto his knee's and then flat onto his face. Rollins dropped to a kneeling position beside him and looked extremely interested in this result. The remaining line up, however, were not feeling so optimisic.
Dean Ambrose: The correct answer was to bite his off nose and spit it back in his face.
Seth Rollins: He's claustrophoic. That was a panic attack. Never gets old.
Dean Ambrose: Well, now that we all know the score, we can continue with business. Namely Death Before Dishonor. Which is exactly what I was just talking about. Death. Before. Dishonor. Because I would much rather die, I WELCOME IT, than lower myself by losing to Michael Mizanin. ..This..this is the guy? This is the white knight that's going to stop us? THE MIZ? This is the guy that is carrying everyone's hopes and dreams up on his shoulders? Something is very, very wrong with this picture. Only a moron would follow The Miz into battle and it's become very clear that this roster is composed of nothing but that..
He begins to smirk as he finds his next point to be infinitely amusing.
Dean Ambrose: Chris Jericho walks out to the ring and says that the roster needs to be unified in order to stop us. And that's very true. But they CAN'T unify themselves because they're all too busy being cool "anti-heroes" and projecting their worthless images to actually rally together. See, we don't have that problem. We all have one goal, one mission, and we have been extremely successful so far. All of these superstars, these entertainers..when panic starts setting in..and one dares to get just a little bit more of the spotlight..they'll eat each other. Their ego's won't allow THE MIZ to be the one who put an end to all of this. They all want that same misguided glory. It's laughable. A bad joke. That even with everything at stake, they still can't work together.
Ambrose looked entirely smug but in his mind he had seen very little from his opposition to believe otherwise.
Dean Ambrose: Rated RKO don't care if this company goes under. They only care about Randy's wife. ..Give me a god damn break. It's so nice that she keeps both of their balls in her purse but the truth is she really isn't even all that hot and she doesn't have a personality so I don't see the big deal. It goes without saying that she's also a soul sucking, lifeless monster. But Edge and Orton revealed the first kink in our armor! ..No, no, no. I don't think so. Pure. Luck. And carrying around those Tag Team Titles? Not going to stop us from getting our hands on the only Ikeda still leavin their slime trail around this company. And if it wasn't for someone, A CERTAIN SOMEONE, they wouldn't be walking right now.
Simply tossing the World Title aside, Ambrose drops to his knee's as the camera comes in closer.
Dean Ambrose: Sean Waltman. I want to speak directly to you when I pose this question. You were a part of "The Cliq", right? Shawn Michaels, Scott Hall? This is something only you can answer. Why is it that just about all of you drug addled wastes of life get SO CLOSE to ODing but you WON'T DIE?! Hall's obituary has been written for years and the only thing that saved Shawn..heh..well..the power of Christ compelled him..
He folded his hands over the thick, black vest over his attire and made light of HBK's religious turn.
Dean Ambrose: Maybe you should ask Shawn to start praying for you too, Waltman. Because you're going to need it for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Also. Congratulations. You actually uttered the phrase "Sean Waltman impersonator" for the very first time in recorded history. ..Is that what you think this is about? This is NOT a "wrasslin'" invasion! We're NOT the nWo and we don't claim to be! We have a purpose. What did you hasbeens ever do? What? You spray painted things? Pointed to your crotches?
Ambrose held a hand over his mouth in feigned a shocked and appauled expression.
Dean Ambrose: Oh! You say "fuck" a lot! You're so edgy! "Fuck everyone", right? Oooh. Sounds like a team player to me. Your time for everything you've done, every atrocity you've committed, is coming very soon. But not before The Miz.
That intense train of thought and expression remained etched on the leader of The Shield's face as he rose back up to his feet.
Dean Ambrose: When you think of The Miz you don't usually think "intense" or "ruthless". They don't spring to mind. I typically think "pussy". "Hollywood". "Soft." I don't think there's a single living person who would be afraid of The Miz if he came waltzing into a bar. There's nothing even remotely intimidating about him. And I guarantee you that's exactly what Brian Kendrick thought when Miz beat him for the World Title. In fact, The Miz has won almost every title this company has to offer. ..Despite..his outward appearance..he's somehow tougher than he looks. But for some reason I don't think anyone actually has any faith in him. It might possibly be because every time I've ever been in a ring with Miz, every time I've ever been in a FIGHT with him, I've left him laying. Or it might also be..
Momentarily his voice trailed off while he started scratching at the side of his face.
Dean Ambrose: ..because Chris Jericho believes that the only way Miz can beat me is if he has the entire roster surrounding the ring! I don't exactly understand the logic here.
That slowly ticking temper was beginning to boil over.
Dean Ambrose: Did I NEED anyone else when I won the Royal Rumble?! Did I need any help beating CM Punk at WrestleMania?! Did anyone have to help me when I beat Chris Jericho so badly he could barely walk out of the arena?! Do you really think SURROUNDING me is going to help?! Cornering me is just going to make me fight harder and it's only going to make Miz's failure even more resounding. The sweetest part about all of this is going to be looking out into that sea of dead eyes when I'm still a champion. When I'm even closer to sending this company into complete and utter oblivion. It doesn't matter how much Miz pumps himself up, no matter how big of a fiery speech he delivers, he is not enough to end this. He's hiding behind his stupid, horrible jokes because he isn't capable of being a man and admitting that what we're building is too much for him to even come close to touching.
It wasn't difficult to question the mental health of the reigning champion as he was starting to venture into complete psycho territory.
Dean Ambrose: Arrogant, useless bastard. When I first showed up, Miz did the whole tired "who are you?" routine. He underestimated me and overlooked me. Yeah, but I bet that son of a bitch couldn't forget my name if he tried now!
Those memories were very fresh in the mind of the 6'4'' Cinncinatti native. He had fought Miz on numerous occasion's since arriving and he had sought to punish The Miz at every turn for his perceived pompous attitude towards him.
Dean Ambrose: He's claiming no one is going to remember THIS in a month? No one is going to remember The Shield?! Miz isn't going to remember how he got to the arena or what he had for breakfast after I crack his skull open! I hope it's so scary, so horrific, that whatever pours out scars EVERYONE circling that ring!
Almost in a lunacy fringe, Ambrose smoothed his palm along his face and pushed his hair further into his face, his breathing also began to pick up.
Dean Ambrose: I understand. I never thought this was going to be easy. I knew I was in for a struggle. These pack of demons are trying to steal this title from me by unscrupulous means. I'm not shocked. Hah, I know why they hate me. Not just because what I'm trying to do. But because of what I've already done. It's ironic. I HATE pro wrestling but I've already got a career that they salivate over! I am THE best thing that's ever been in an EBWF ring! In a few months I've won a Royal Rumble, Tag Titles, a World title, I MAIN EVENTED WrestleMania! I KILLED WrestleMania! Miz and his Trilogy couldn't do that. Orton and Edge couldn't do that. Waltman and his nWo couldn't do it. But it means nothing to me! NOTHING!
A sombre laugh finished his sentence.
Dean Ambrose: The only thing I care about is justice and justice for The Miz is going to be swift and unrelenting. The Doomsday clock keeps ticking. Believe that. Believe in The Shield.
With the two men Reigns and Rollins had incapacitated earlier still laying lifeless in the background, the scene suddenly cut to static.
