The crowd of people packed into the stadium has been anticipating this moment for the past several hours. The matches and bouts they’ve seen thus far have been thrilling, but they all really came for just one match. A massive cage made of steel beams and red chains begins its slow descent from the ceiling. The crowd roars so loud the commentator’s voices can hardly be heard over the din.
(“Well, the moment has finally arrived.”
“Yes, indeed, Matt! It’s been one hell of a pay-per-view card already, but this Hell On The Hill main event match-up has ‘instant classic’ written all over it. I can’t wait for this one!”
“By the sound of it, neither can the crowd here.”
“Yeah, it has that sort of ‘big fight feel’ to it, doesn’t it? A bit of a David and Goliath vibe. They’re not exactly evenly matched, after all.”
“I see why you say that, Luke, I really do. But I don’t think you’re giving this new version of J.C. enough credit. This is no longer The Carpenter’s Son. This is The Teacher. He’s a new man. If you look around here, he’s already got the crowd on his side. The people have been hungry for something new, something different, and he might just be it.”
“Look, hopes and dreams and good-feelings can only get you so far. Have you SEEN The Accuser? He’s not just a regular man. He’s a freaking beast. He’s superhuman. And his mind-games are just as effective as his brute strength. I think a lot of people are going to very disappointed at the end of tonight.”)
A voiceover for The Teacher’s new entrance music says “HE WILL BE YOUR TEACHER!” as a full symphony plays Pomp and Circumstance. J.C. makes his way onto the entrance ramp. A ring-announcer calls out above the crowd: “The following is a Hell On The Hill no-holds barred match scheduled for one fall. In this match there are no count-outs, no disqualifications, no pin-falls, and no escapes. The only way to win is by submission or knock-out. Introducing the challenger, ‘The Teacher,’ J.C.!”
The crowd roars as J.C. walks up to the cage, gives it a wary look, shakes his head, and steps through the door into the ring inside.
The music changes suddenly to the screaming metal of The Accuser’s entrance music.
“And his opponent, the reigning and defending champion, The Accuser!” The ring announcer gives an appropriate level of growl to the end of The Accuser’s name, matching the daunting energy he brings forth with him onto the stage. Boos abound throughout the audience.
(“See, Matt, that right there - that larger-than-life man marching to the ring with that look on his face - is why I worry about how this is going to go for J.C. How can anyone bet against the sheer power and force of The Accuser?”
“He certainly is intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be The Teacher tonight, that’s for sure.”)
The Accuser casually tosses his title belt to an official standing near the entrance to the cage. He enters the cage, the door is locked, and the bell rings to start the match.
Before the echo of the bell ringing throughout the arena can fully fade, The Accuser pounces. The Teacher is thrown to the ground and The Accuser pummels him with heavy blows.
(“This fight may be over before it even gets started.”
“I don’t want to say I told you so, but it’s not looking great for The Teacher.”)
As quickly as he attacked, The Accuser stands up and retreats to his corner. He shouts across the ring at The Teacher. “Go on, get up. I’ll back off and give you a fair fight. Get up, teacher-man.” J.C. slowly and cautiously rises to his feet. The crowd cheers as he does so, but their cheers are quickly thwarted as The Accuser approaches and puts J.C. into a vicious headlock.
“You want to be a hero, huh? You want to upset the balance of power? You want to be some disruptor of the status quo?” The Accuser growls each question louder and angrier than the one before it. The official approaches, watching closely to see if J.C. has passed out. Just before he does, The Accuser releases him to the ground and, again, returns to his corner. He relaxes there, sipping casually from a bottle of water as he watches J.C. gasp for air.
(“He’s just toying with J.C. at this point. Like a cat playing with a mouse. He wants to send a message. He wants The Teacher to suffer.”)
As J.C. once again gets to his feet, The Accuser walks back over and just decks him with a devastating uppercut. J.C. is knocked to his feet once again. The Accuser walks back to his corner and crouches casually sipping his water. He looks like a lion waiting to attack.
As J.C. gets to his feet a third time, The Accuser walks over and slowly dumps the water onto J.C.’s head.
“Oh, I’m sorry, were you thirsty, little boy?” The Accuser mocks. “Well, here’s the thing. THEY,” he points to the audience, “seem to think you’re some son of a god. Me? I think you’re just another son of a bitch!” He crushes the water bottle and hands it to J.C. “But I’ll give you a chance to prove me wrong. If you really are some god’s son, work your little magic trick and refill that bottle. Go on, prove you’re the son of a god. PROVE IT!”
Spit flies in J.C.’s face as The Accuser screams these last words.Something in The Teacher’s demeanor changes as he wipes it away. He stands up straight, barely coming to the massive Accuser’s chest, puts his shoulders back, and says in a deadly serious tone: “It takes a hell of a lot more than food and water for a true life to be lived.” The Teacher begins to advance toward The Accuser. The Accuser seems caught off guard by this and retreats a step backward. “It takes a fire in HERE,” J.C. says, slapping his chest. “It takes SPIRIT! It takes HEART! It takes LOVE!” The crowd roars.
(“I’d be careful if I were J.C. I don’t know that goading The Accuser on like this is a good idea.”)
The Teacher continues, “And you don’t know a damn thing about ANY of that.” And with that he rears back his hand and hits The Accuser across the chin with a hard right hook.
The Accuser doesn’t budge.
(“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh, indeed, Matt. The Accuser wasn’t even phased by that!”
“I think all that did was piss him off even more.”)
The Accuser stares at The Teacher for a moment before grabbing him by the throat. He drags J.C., kicking and flailing, toward the door of the cage. “OPEN IT!” He bellows at the official. The official does as The Accuser says and gives the simmering giant a wide berth.
The Accuser tosses J.C. out the door and to the ground with one hand and steps out over the ropes and to the floor after him. He yanks J.C. to his feet and shoves him against the side of the cage. He rakes The Teacher’s face back and forth against the chain. The audience cringes and cries out in unison. And then, as he has the whole match, The Accuser suddenly stops. More mind games. He pats J.C. on the shoulder in a mockingly friendly manner, gives him a one-handed push toward the cage, points to the top, looks J.C. in the eye and says in a cold voice, “Climb.” J.C. looks up toward the top of the cage, and then back toward The Accuser, blocking any other chance for escape. He has no choice. He begins to climb.
(“I do NOT like the look of this, Luke. I don’t like this at all.”)
J.C. arrives at the top and takes as much of a defensive position as he can standing high atop the cage. But once again The Accuser gets the upper-hand, picking him up and throwing him down hard onto the unforgiving steel beams.
(“J.C., just stay down, man. Just stay down. Live to fight another day.”)
The Accuser kicks J.C. closer and closer to the edge of the cage.
(“Come on, now, don’t do this, Accuser! Don’t do this!”
“He might actually kill him if he throws him from up there! I can’t watch this.”)
The Accuser gives him one final kick, sending J.C. toppling over the edge of the cage. There are gasps and screams from the audience looking on, and a deafening cheer as J.C. manages to cling to the edge of the cage just in time to stop his fall. The Accuser looks positively disgusted. He kneels down so he’s face-to-face with J.C.
(“Anyone else getting a strong Lion King vibe here?”)
The Accuser snarls at J.C. and says “If your new daddy really is a god, go ahead and let go and see if he comes to your rescue. Or are you too scared, teacher-man? Scared to be found out as a fraud?”
Somehow, The Teacher musters up just enough strength to swing his body to the right and, in a stunning move of agility and speed, kick The Accuser square in the head knocking him to his back. The Teacher climbs back up to the top of the cage and lands fist after fist on the fallen Accuser.
(“Can you believe what we’re seeing? After all he’s been through, this man just doesn’t know when to quit!”
“I don’t think he knows HOW to quit, Luke!”
“This could be it! This could be his opportunity.”)
The Teacher’s flurry of blows grows faster and more frantic as he yells. “You think I’m stupid?! I might believe in miracles, but I also know that you don’t dare tempt fate if you don’t have to, dumbass.” And then, J.C. backs off, just as The Accuser has so many times to this point. He retreats and stands tall with his arms spread wide. The crowd loses their minds screaming and cheering. A fan in the front row waves a homemade sign that says, “THEY GONNA LEARN TODAY,” calling back to the first time the audience was introduced to The Teacher.
(“My, how the tables have turned.”
“Yes, but for how long?”)
The Accuser gets to his feet. He’s absolutely irate. He runs toward The Teacher and tries to tackle him, but J.C. saw it coming. He steps out of the way. The Accuser frantically clings to the cage to stop his fall. He gets up again, even more enraged. He’s starting to turn red with his fury. As he goes in for another choke-hold, J.C. ducks and sweeps his leg out from under him causing The Accuser to fall hard into the chains and steel. J.C. continues to wail on The Accuser. The audience loves it.
(“I can’t believe what we’re seeing out of J.C. People had never even HEARD of this guy two weeks ago.”
“Well they certainly know his name now!”)
As the wave of blows continues from J.C., The Accuser manages to roll over just enough to land a kick directly between The Teacher’s legs. He immediately collapses in pain. The crowd boos louder than they have all night. And that’s saying a lot given the level of outrage they had at The Baptizer’s devastating loss to The Fairy earlier in the night.
(“Oh no! That’s it. That’s gotta do it. J.C.’s done for.”
“Not like this. Not like this.”
“Honestly, that was a move of pure desperation on The Accuser’s part. He’s asking himself what he has to do to keep J.C. down for a 10-count right about now.”)
The Accuser hoists J.C. to his feet. He stares down at him and places one hand around J.C.’s neck. “You put up a good fight tonight, teacher-man. I’ll admit that. You’re better than I expected. So I’ll make you a deal. But this is only a one-time offer and you’ve got about three seconds to make up your mind. You hear me?”
He squeezes J.C.’s neck a little tighter. J.C.’s eyes grow a little wider.
“In a few seconds I’m going to let you go,” The Accuser says walking toward the edge of the cage once again, bringing The Teacher with him. “Now, you’ve got two options. Option one, I let you go and you take a knee, and this nice referee down there counts to ten while you let everyone here know that I’M your new daddy. Option two, I throw you off this cage through that announcers’ table down there, and your career is over before it begins.”
(“What did he just say, Matt?”
“Luke, we gotta go. We need to move right now. He’s not playing around. Hurry!”)
“They know I’m serious. Look!” The Accuser turns J.C.’s head down toward the table where Luke and Matt are scrambling to get out of the way. “They know I’ll do it. Those are your only two options. Make your choice.... my son.” The Accuser sneers these last two words with sadistic sarcasm. And then he lets J.C. go.
“Make your choice, boy,” The Accuser says. “All you have to do is kneel before your new daddy. Three....”
J.C. looks around. The audience starts chanting “No! No! No!”
“Two....”
(“Just take the knee, J.C. Save yourself, for god sake!”)
“One....”
The Accuser walks toward J.C. “Time’s up. Kneel or die.”
“I kneel to nobody but my Creator!” J.C. says. “So, no. I will not bow before you. Not today, Satan!” As he screams this The Accuser lunges toward him. J.C. ducks under his reaching arms. The Accuser falls from the cage through the announcers’ table below, smashing it to pieces.
“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” The audience chants, drowning out the referee’s counting.
“One.... Two.... Three....”
(“The referee is counting! The referee just needs to get to ten and J.C. wins this match and the title! Luke, do you believe in miracles now?! DO YOU BELIEVE?!”)
“Four.... Five.... Six....”
J.C. has begun his slow climb down the cage. He is banged up and bruised and bloodied from the battle. This last bit of effort seems to have taken all his reserves. He stumbles coming off the cage.
“Seven.... Eight.... Nine....”
J.C. stands wearily to his feet looking at the still unmoving Accuser. He half grimaces in pain and half smiles in victory, knowing that there’s no way his opponent is going to get to his feet before the ten count. He knows he’s won this battle as the referee, the announcers, and the audience all scream to make it official, “TEN!” The arena erupts in joyous cheers. Strangers hug each other in the stands, children weep tears of happiness, grown men turn giddy as school girls.
(“HE DID IT! HE DID IT! OH MY GOD HE DID IT! HE DEFEATED THE UNDEFEATABLE!”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but goddammit, Matt, you were right.”)
A bell rings amidst the chaos. The ring announcer, microphone in hand, and the referee approach The Teacher. The referee raises J.C.’s hand in the air as he hands him the shiny title belt. “And NEW champion of the world, ‘The Teacher’ J.C.!” As soon as the announcement is over, J.C. collapses to the ground. Medical teams surround both J.C. and The Accuser, tending to their wounds.
(“What a battle we just witnessed. This is monumental. This is historic. This is going to be a game changer.”)
To be continued....