[PWX] Paris In Flames


The lower east side is a jukebox
Playing the dead man’s crescendo
The needle is a vector
An intersection that we all must cross
A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls



“I hate this city. I hate everything this city stands for. The façade this place has, the dream it’s built of being a place of dreams, of hope, of love, of romance. This city has a darkside-and right now, this city’s dark side is the only thing that appeals to me. Every place, every body, every thing has demons. There are parts of this city that hides its demons, and puts up a wall of romanticism to block it out. There are parts of this city-that like me-embraces them.”

SCENE: Small dive bar, Paris, France.

[Rain is pouring outside, a downpour. It sounds like the apocalypse outside. We open in a dingly, dimly lit tavern in the lower slums of Paris, France. The barkeep is flipping through the channels-and comes across and advertisement for PWX Adrenaline at the Zenith.]

Barkeep: Ah, dirty wrasslin’

[He turns his head, and see’s James Silkk slumped in the corner. He is smoking a cigarette-in between sips of bourbon. The barkeep recognizes him.]

Barkeep: Aye, you’re one of them aren’t ya? You’re that Silkk guy aren’t ya? One of them ‘wrestlers’

[He adds the air quotes with his fingers, alluding to the sports predetermined nature. Silkk ignores him-gazing into the shadows.]

Barkeep: What? You not gon answer me? Tough guy. Hey everybody, this here fake wrassler is a tough guy!

[A man from across the bar perks his head up and smiles. He cracks his knuckles and walks over to them.]

Patron: A tough guy huh? Whats his name?

Barkeep: I think he’s that Silkk guy on the wrestling show…

Patron: Be a real shame is somebody fucked him up before their big show tomorrow, wouldn’t it?

[James gets up, and throws his black peacoat on. He throws a couple dollars on the table and begins to walk away.]

Patron: Aye, I never said you could go kid.

[The man takes a swing at James-who instinctively ducks and plants him in the back of the head with an elbow. He throws him into a jukebox-shattering the glass, before dropping him face first on the floor with a Dream Killer-knocking him unconscious.  He gets up and turns to the barkeep.]

James Silkk: About as fake as your city. Here.

[He throws some money on the counter.]

James Silkk: This should cover the jukebox.

[He goes to walk away, and stops, turning back to the barkeep-all while looking at the man on the floor.]

James Silkk: He probably has a concussion. Here, this should pay for his ER visit.

[He throws some more money on the counter, and throws his hood up-walking out the door. He walks into the rain-and looks at the lit up skyline just down the hill.]

James Silkk: The cancer is almost as bad here…

[His phone rings, and he pulls it out-seeing Nikki Lee’s picture on the caller ID.]

James Silkk: Not tonight, not here, not in this city.

[He ignores the call, and begins to walk down the sidewalk, heading downtown.]



We all sing the songs of separation
And we watch our lives
Bleed out through our hands
That’s how it was on the first day
When we saw Paris in flames.

[The scene fades in on the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the entire city. The city is ablaze with light, destroying shadows in every corner.]

James Silkk: From here, from this view-Paris looks proper, the way it should be. Set ablaze in a fire that would make Devil’s Night look like a fucking barbeque. This city is a plague, a disease, a false idol promoting a fallacy of an idea. Have I ever mentioned I hate this fucking city?

[He pauses, stepping out from the shadows-and leaning on the railing.]

James Silkk: You know what they say about throwing a penny off the Sears Tower in Chicago? Wonder what’d happen if I threw one off of here. Probably something very fun…..

[His phone rings again, he pulls it out and sends the call to voicemail.]

James Silkk: Not tonight Nikki…not tonight.

[He sighs and gazes over the skyline.]

James Silkk: This city represents the pain I went through with the marriage. We spent a week and change here, in Paris-on our honey moon. All the while-I was being sucked dry-literally and figuratively if you know what I mean-by a redheaded seductress named Marisol Hawkes. A mistake I do not intend on making again.

[He pauses, and lights up another cigarette.]

James Silkk: There is no time for romance anymore, no time for these false ideals of happiness and joy. Everything will come to light soon enough-and than all the pain I’ve been feeling? It will be unleashed on the world.

[He pauses once more, throwing his half smoked cigarette over the railing.]

James Silkk: I hope that doesn’t land in some gas or something…that would be…terrible…of course…

[He says in a very sarcastic tone-before letting out a chuckle.]

James Silkk: Why wait though? Why not give the world, the public, my adoring fans a taste of whats to come. A glimpse into the future. Tomorrow night-right over there at Le Zenith, I team up with Noah Hanson, the Hollywood Star, the man people apparently mistake for Shia Lebouf………these same people-also have an IQ about on par with their shoe size, because I think Noah looks more like Nic Cage personally…but I digress.

[He smiles, still gazing at the lights across the city.]

James Silkk: Noah it’s funny actually. You and I have never been in the ring at the same time-not as opponents, not as partners. One Night In Paris-that will all change, and trust me-we won’t need night vision to see what’s going on. One Night in Paris? The Abstract and the Lady Killer will team up, to face Nighthawk and Shadoe Rage.

[He pauses again, smiling.]

James Silkk: Shadoe Rage and I have a date with destiny. We have a meeting of the minds at Hostile Takeover. You see-back at No Limits, he secured himself a chance at the Evolution Championship-the title that I had just taken from Damien Frost not even an hour prior.  He won that shot just by not being the first person thrown out of the ring. No, that honor went to Ryan Kidd-who let’s face it. Deserved it.

[He smiles again-pausing for a moment.]

James Silkk: Shadoe Rage, last week you managed to score a victory over me. This week? You will not be so lucky. All my rage, all my hatred of this city-will be pushed out onto you. If Nighthawk gets in my way, I will kill his dreams too-but I’ll be honest. I give approximately zero fucks about him. Tomorrow night sir, it’s about you and Me. It’s about leveling the playing field before we clash in Tokyo.  Tomorrow night Shadoe-you will see what will happen when you’ve pissed off the Evolution Champion. I promise that.

[He chuckles, now turning and leaning toward the railing.]

James Silkk: Everything I have ever said has had a purpose, when I tell you that things will become clear in time-than believe me-they will. I have kept every promise I have made since returning to this company. Now as I stand before you, the Evolution Champion, I will make another. Tomorrow night, when the four of us step into the ring for the first time-you will see an explosion, one that will hopefully engulf Paris…in flames. Shadoe Rage, you have been warned. Nighthawk, you have been warned. Even my partner-Noah Hanson, you too have been warned. The time is coming-and your fate..will be mine to decide….

[He smiles as we fade to black.]


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