Author: admin

*VB is seen on horseback, galloping through the dry red outback. He is wearing full cowboy gear, from the big hat down to the boots and spurs. A coiled whip hangs loosely from his side. Since his exile 5 years ago, Vinnie Balboa has become a true bushman. He makes a living by taking up various contracts – anything from treasure hunts, to robbery and mercenary work. He lives on the fringes – a wild animal, untamed and unrestricted. Panoramic shot of VB galloping towards a moving train*

VB (Yelling at horse): YAAAHHH FITBIT, YAAHHH… FASTER FITBIT!

*The horse is catching up to the train. VB is clearly about to board, and rob the train*

*Fitbit stumbles. Vinnie Balboa comes off the beast, rolling in the dust. The train speeds off into the horizon. Vinnie Balboa is furious *

VB: uhh you let me down, Fitbit. How you gonna throw me off like that

*VB removes his whip from his belt. He begins to whip Fitbit. Fitbit kicks Vinnie Balboa in the groin*

VB: (voice is high-pitched) ARRGGHHH NOOO !! MA GROIN !!

*A fury begins to swell within Vinnie Balboa. He drops the whip, and raises his fists. Rightcross, uppercut, jab jab, hook straight right. He throws a chain combo at his horse Fitbit, who counters with another kick. Vinnie Balboa cops another hit to his groin*

VB (Tears of pain streaming from his eyes): MA GROIN !! AAADRIIIANNN

*Fitbit gallops away. Vinnie Balboa lies in fetal position in the dirt, clutching his groin*

*Cue sad music. Panoramic shot of Vinnie Balboa, lying alone in the dirt. He is miles from civilisation, in full cowboy kit and covered in dirt…clutching his groin. The sun sets, and he is lying in darkness.*

*Cue flashbacks of Vinnie Balboa’s life. Angada Angada….His bar fight…the waitress…. Adrian….Brucie…. Angel of Death…… His time at BAN…..the Judge sentencing him….Fitbit’s well aimed kick to the groin*

* The sun has set, and it is pitch black*

*Sad music swells. Fade in an old photograph of Vinnie Balboa, in his glory days… In the photograph, he is smiling.*

 

Up Next: Galactic Fighter

2 years have passed since Vinnie Balboa’s street fight, and subsequent conviction. He has been in a high security prison, honing his body and mind. Eating steaks, lifting weights and reading Women’s Weekly (sadly the only literature provided to prisoners, due to budget cuts)

*Opening shot of the interior prison – it’s dark and dingy. The cell doors are bars, and prisoners are kept 2 to a cell. A permanent cloud of cigarette smoke lingers in the humid air.*

*Bird’s eye of the Yard. It is a large concrete yard, surrounded by high electrified fence and multiple guard towers. All the men are in orange jumpsuits. Some are lifting weights, some are playing basketball. Some are smoking cigarettes and some are simply enjoying the sunny weather and blue skies.*

*Vinnie is alone in the, pumping a benchpress. A large black man breaks away from his group of homies, and approaches Vinnie. Camera zoom.*

Blackman: You finished, G.I Joe. Gimme that benchpress nigga

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): I ain’t done

Blackman: You about to be done, nigga! MOVE befo’ I cut that ass up!!

*The loud voices have attracted the attention of Blackman’s crew (5 black men), who are now looking over from across the yard.*

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Why don’t you, uh, go back to your pals there, uh ok? They look like they missin’ you

Blackman: The fuck? You back-talking me boy?

*Blackman’s crew approaches. All 6 Black men are staring at Vinnie Balboa aggressively*

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Oh, hey, look at this. It’s a party! Which one of you got the beers. C’mon boys, can’t have a party without beer

Blackman: ‘BOYS’ ? FUCKIN –

*the men surround Vinnie Balboa. A brief scuffle ensues, before guards swarm the yard and break up the fight*

 

*Guards are dragging away the blacks. The prison is now in lockdown. Men are filing back into their cells. A lone guard approaches Vinnie’s cell. He is an old man with thinning white hair and kind eyes*

Guard: Vinnie Balboa, what happened in the yard yesterday

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Uhh I dunno Brucie. Just a little party with the boys, you know?

Brucie: Yea, you know how that goes… you ‘party’ with them niggers, you die.. or worse

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Don’t worry about it Brucie, I uh, I can take care of myself

Brucie: Alright Vinnie.. You’ve stayed outta trouble so far – even stayed away from the organised prison fights – I just don’t wanna see you fuck it all up

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): I appreciate this Brucie. You’ve been like a father to me in this cage for the past couple years. I won’t fuck up again,I promise.

Brucie: Alright Vinnie, alright. I came here to warn you, them niggers you pissed off have put a contract on your head. A carton of smokes for the crew that kills ya

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech):Anyone bite?

Brucie: …The Mexicans. They’ve taken the contract Vinnie. You’re in trouble, you know how those gangbanging latinos are. I’ve seen them do things that’d make any decent man si –

*Vinnie Balboa interrupts*

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Brucie, let it be Brucie. Tell me one thing, though. Just this one thing

Brucie: What is it my boy

Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech):They only put up one carton? I’m worth more than that Brucie, you know. At least 3 cartons of smokes *grins*

Brucie: shut the fuck up and go to sleep, you silly son of a bitch

*Both men laugh*

 

*Vinnie Balboa is asleep. Prison lights are out. A lone stranger is seen sneaking through the shadows. Flashes of moonlight illuminate his tattooed skin. ‘LOCO MAFIOSO’ across the chest … “HOMBRE 21^st STREET ESES” across the shoulders…A portrait of the Virgin Mary Tattooed across his back. She is weeping red tears, a forlorn look on her face. Beneath her portrait, are tatted the words “Angel De La Muerta’ – Angel of Death.*

*Angel of Death enters Vinnie Balboas cell – he has a key. He holds a small knife, which glimmers in the darkness. He approaches Vinnie Balboa, and leans close to the sleeping fighter…*

Angel of Death: *whispers* Mary Mother of God, forgive me…

 

Up Next – The Escape

Several years had gone by. The fights of yesterday were old and forgotten news. The outside world had grown into a distant memory to Vinnie. The world had turned its back on him and he had turned his back on the world. The prison cell was his home now, the prison itself his oasis. He had grown accustom with the confines of its grey, mossy walls. The prisoners were now his family. His violent and often murderous… family.

On the outside world, his fighting had lacked discipline and distractions of the world had weakened Vinnie’s resolve. Defeats had only played further mind games on him in such scenarios. In here, he had dedicated the last 4 years of his life to crafting his body into a finely tuned weapon. The books strengthened his mind, the weights his body and the environment his overall toughness.

Routine and blindness of the outside world gave Vinnie the discipline he needed. Yet this day, something unusual had occurred. Vinnie had a visitor. Not once had Vinnie had a visitor in his 4 year stay thus far. This moment that would forever be etched as the beginning of a far grander sequence of events.

Vinnie was escorted by two unfit, rotund guards talking about their “soccer” game, and how their player had clearly been injured. It disgusted Vinnie, what did a sport of sissies know of injury. He was escorted into a small interrogation room, where he was met by a rather portly brown man behind a small wooden desk.

“That will do guards, he poses no further threat to me.” Said the mystery man. Vinnie maliciously smiled at the sheer arrogance.

“My name is Shabz. Shabz Patan. I currently manage the Heavy weight champion of the world and have for the last 3 years. I’m also a fight promoter, the best…and have I got an event planned. I have come here to this prison to secure my final 2 prized fighters for the greatest world tournament the world will ever see.”

He placed a sheet of paper on the table. It appeared to be a list of 6 names so far.

“Eight Entrants. Each as deadly at the last.” The fat man proclaimed. They were all supposedly famed fighters from the last decade, reaching some level of success across the globe. Each a specialist fighter in their own art form. Shabz verbalized the list as Vinnie ran through it.

1. “Habaz “Anger Management” Valentine”
2. “Garas “The General” Garikipati III”
3. “Adusius “Black Bird” Bandarias”
4. “Prasadh “Angada Angada” Mohanadhasan”
5. “Papa Geppi “the Brother Bather” Ho”

“And the reigning Champion of the world…A man with no equal and unchallenged for past 3 years…

He took his crown by crushing the former champ, Prasadh “Angada Angada” Mohanadhasan, in a savage beatdown – the thought of which makes people cringe even to this day.”, Bellowed Shabz enthusiastically,

6. “KD “The Ascended”, “The Beast of the Jungle”, “The RICH!!!” and “Pet rat of Shabz”.

Two names on that list held meaning to Vinnie. Vengeance…was being offered up on a pedestal. Prasadh…Garas…His blood rose at the thought of the confrontation .

“Your reputation precedes you on the outside still, Vinnie”, Said Shabz, “I want you to be one of my fighters. You have history with two of these great fighters. A grudge match many on the outside have longed for” Stated Shabz.

Vinnie paused. Flashes of his weeping Ex-wife coursed through his memory, along with a premature end to his championship bout. Standing over Garas victoriously before being sentenced in here for a decade. A life long forgotten had been given new life.

As Vinnie sat in the waiting room, he felt an urge to break the over-indulgent fight promoter’s face. His chubby, smug facial features. His rosy, bulbous cheeks. Those perfectly round spectacles. On a normal day, Vinnie would have broken this fat buffoon.  Unfortunately, this was no longer an ordinary day. Redemption was being granted for himself – if he would but reach for it. Vinnie just then noticed that something was amiss. Even should he agree, they would be one fighter short. He would be the seventh…with the eighth being from here. No one was left though. Not since the old days more than 3 years ago with his bitter prison rivalry – with “Casimiro ”The Portuguese” “.  But he had been missing for the last year. They say the guards beat him to death, but there was never any evidence of it.

Vinnie’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. The Fight Promoter had piqued captured his interest and would therefore not be beaten to a pulp. Who else in this prison would be capable of standing toe to toe with the reigning champ. This…”KD” fellow? With Vinnie himself? The answer came as swiftly as the question.

The door slowly opened, and a figure made himself known to the room. It took but a glance for fear to spread to Vinnie’s gut. What hidden monstrosity had his own domain hidden from him, all these years… this mystery fighter…!?

“It…can’t be…!?” gasped Vinnie in shock, as his eyes widened and remained unblinking.

 

Up Next: The Eighth Warrior

His velvety, brown eyes pierced deep into Vinnie. It was as though they had the hunger to feast on Vinnie’s soul. Their stony gaze filled with the desire to feed off infinity itself.

His eccentric appearance only further confirmed his identity. Atop his head was a hollowed out half-watermelon which he donned as an unholy crown. A white towel was tied around his neck, draping down his back as a cape with a crude yellow spray painted insignia – The Big McDonalds golden arches – “M”. His t-shirt was far too small for his girth and could only reach as far as a few centimetres below his teets. His rotund belly practically reached his knees – making it seem like he wasn’t wearing any form of leg wear. His beard was rugged and strong, the hair on his head dishevelled and other-worldly. He had the distinct cologne consisting of sandalwood, citrus and most identifiably of all – Big Mac sauce.

His appearance would have been almost comical, if not for his obvious destructive capacity and barbaric history in the ring. He had a post-match ritual of placing two McDonald’s cheese burger patties on the eyes of his fallen victims to mark their defeat. His personalized method of marking his conquered territory.

But one day he simply vanished off the face of the earth. As the years went by, his name was heard less and less, until only hush whispers of his greatness were whispered in only the most loyal of circles. The cult-like group that still remained loyal were known as the “Holy Covenant of Cheese”. Rumour had it that he had gone insane and been locked up in a mental asylum in some far off country long ago.

Vinnie was drawn back into reality when Shabz spoke.

“Saralax “The all-consuming” Kulanburger…,” Said Shabz in equal awe as Vinnie, his voice trembling in introducing the entrant who needed no introduction, “Is the eighth and final fighter. His reputation as-“.

Vinnie interrupted him before he wasted more words, “I know all about the man…the legend. They say he vanished, years before I even began fighting…” . His opponents suffered from horrific fates far worse than death itself. Words could not do justice to those who had fallen across his path. Could Vinnie really fight in a tournament with this mass of pure monstrosity…? No there could be nothing to get in the way of his vengeance.

“Nice to meecha, Gobba’. Didn’t know them Peeps’ outside still knew me name” Said Saralax in a hearty, country voice.

“Name is Vinnie, Sir. You were known as one of the best on the outside. Meeting you in person, is both glorious… and horrifying…”

“Sir?! Gobba’, You best be watchn’ them words. I like my peeps strong and arrogant. Like young Leelz over here used to be. Get in here Leelz!” Retorted Saralax.

He saw Saralax gripping a metal leash which was still attached to something behind the door. Vinnie had heard rumours of what Saralax did to his strongest foes. The frightful fate of the foes he dominated into become…his “Leelz”. His own personal pet dog to stay bound to him until another stronger foe piqued his interest.

“Leelz” was the name he would give to the foes that really challenged him, before falling at his feet. The arrogant foes were the ones Saralax enjoyed the most to bend to his will. The crawling man’s face was fully covered by a black latex mask – providing no eye sockets for any sight. He was on his hands and knees crawling blindly through the door. He had on a knee pads and gloves along with black latex shorts. No shirt. Leelz struggled to find its owners legs and hugged them submissively. There were bruises and whip marks all over the man’s back, a sign of his training.

Rumour had it that whenever “Leelz” misbehaved in front of company, the two would often disappear for weeks on end. Whenever questioned on the disappearance – He would say the most ominous words a man could ever hear. “Leelz needed a walk…”

Vinnie’s heart skipped a beat. He eyes a familiar tattoo on the man’s upper arm. That of a man carrying the corpse of his fallen love…This “Leelz”…it was Casimiro “The Portuguese”. That tattoo was unmistakeable. This was Vinnie’s long term rival that disappeared a year ago. Was this the horrific fate that had met him…

Vinnie trembled at the fate that hat met his nemesis. A Fate worse than death, that was. Shabz on the other hand grinned smugly. Almost… knowingly. This promoter enraged Vinnie to his very core. “Well…if you agree. The both of you will be released today. The tournament is 4 months from today, on the 13^th of May. You’ll have to leave your fellow prisoner behind, Saralax”.

Saralax cursed some jibberish-based obscenities.

However, in both their eyes burned an unyielding fury for the opportunity that had arisen. It was decided, and Shabz smiled before leaving without words. The response was written on their faces.

Vinnie and Saralax were released into the world with a 4 month window before the great tournament. 4 Months to prepare for their destiny. Both looked at each other, knowing their connection to the real world had been severed long ago. What good was separating?

Vinnie recalled distant memories of his training at Mick’s gym, where the now deceased old man had spoken of an old friend. A master martial artist who had escaped the material world to a jungle near their already out-of-the-way prison.

The mysterious recluse and acclaimed Cat-worshipper. Santiago, the Cat Sage and Feline-Fu master.

Perhaps there, the unusual duo would find a way to prepare…

 

Up Next: The Reclusive Cat Sage – The Rigorous Training Begins

“Well Gobba’, I tell ya’. I’m gob smacked what we is’ to do for the next 4 months aye” Said Saralax as he snacked on a cheeseburger.  The two of them had been wandering through the woods for 4 days now, and supplies were running low. Saralax pounded down the final remnant of his arsenal of cheeseburgers that he had packed for the journey. Vinnie hadn’t eaten in the last day. Chances of finding this great fighting sage the two had set out to were growing slim. But just as their hope was waning thin – on a looming sunset, it happened. They both sensed an ancient, natural energy approaching them. Insects were magnetised and moving in the direction of this energy at their feet, birds flying in circles in the sky. Animals peered out of their bushy homes, as if a companion of the forest was approaching. A man emerged.

His bushy, black hair was as wild as the jungle itself. His beard had not been tended to in many years. He had a stocky physique and was slightly below average height. His clothes were a little dishevelled. He was holding a crudely carved spear in one hand and a small cat in the other. The latter of which gave away his identity.  This Great Cat Sage that Saralax and Vinnie had sought out had emerged from the shadows at long last.

“Kneel…my sons, and Introduce myself to you, I will” he muttered in a low, raspy voice. It was as though he had expected them. They both collapsed to their knees, largely from exhaustion. “Santiago, Am I. Santiago Dharmatilake. In this jungle, long have I trained.  If it is power you seek, Speak the reasons for why…” he continued.

Saralax was the first to respond to Santiago’s question.

“Jeez Louis, Gobba’. I barely understood yee.  I want Maccas, is what I want. I want Maccas and to find me a new Leelz. That Bastard Shabz, He took my precious Leelz. Oi Gobba’, where is the closest Maccas roun’ here anywhere aye??”

“Know not, what this “Gobba”  and “Maccas” you speak of is. Santiago, am I. Know nothing, you do – large one. Meditate on your goal, you must. Your true purpose, come to you then it will”

It seemed that Saralax was without words. McDonalds did not exist in the deserted jungles far from society. Surely, this news did not surprise him thought Vinnie to himself. But the look of pure bafflement meant that was apparently not the case. He looked completely forlorn and quivering at the prospect of training without the one thing on this earth that truly completed him.

“Fukn’ LeBron!” Saralax cursed in rage.

Vinnie was the second to respond to the Cat Sage.

“Long have I heard tales of your greatness, O-great Cat Sage. My purpose in pursuing greater strength is to destroy my enemies. All who have mocked me, shall by crushed by the weight of my vengeance…” Said Vinnie, emblazoned by the passion of both vengeance and the humiliation of his staggeringly brief defeats.

“Vengeance…,”muttered the Cat Sage…,”Maccas?…Leelz…?”.

The wise old Jungle man then stood in silence, as if in deep contemplation. The small cat randomly purred in his arms. He began stroking it gently, caressing it with a touch that revealed a true bond between the two. Something that seemed much stronger than a bond between man and pet. The small cat’s eyes looked on their guests quizzically, than back at the Cat Sage. “Worthy, the two of you may not be. However, Your Sensei I will be. But much you have to learn”.

Both Saralax and Vinnie were still kneeling before this mysterious Feline hermit. He was as the stories had described. “Only The Great Goddess Missy, can guide humanity to salvation. And…should she see it fit, give us the power to vanquish our foes. The two of you shall train under her will – and I shall serve as her hands.”

“Sensei Santiago…” The two warriors spoke respectfully. He nodded at them, and continued to stroke his cat. And stroke it well he did…

~

The Training that ensued in the following months was difficult and trying. Sensei Santiago first set the two of them to catch his cat, Missy, which proved to be a more difficult than expected in a jungle. She was nimble and wary. It took each of them an entire month before they were agile enough for the task.

They lived initiailly off high protein cat-food and water. Saralax was already looking leaner and fitter within a week. He hated it. “Fkn’ LeBron” He’d always say. Who or what this LeBron was, neither Santiago nor Vinnie knew. Perhaps too many years secluded from the real world meant missing such meanings.

The two eventually learned to hunt their own food in the jungle through sheer necessity. Their skills in nature were growing and their primal spirit was coming to life. They often sparred against one another at night to further improve their combat skills. Sadly for young Vinnie, Saralax was a truly indomitable foe. His sheer size made him invulnerable to any real damage. The end result was always the same. Saralax would sit on Vinnie and crush him half to death. It was weight training…in a far more horrific form.

Learning the art of Feline-Fu was a different ball game altogether. It involved a lot of sudden pouncing, heavy evasion and utilising ones natural abilities. Their nails were long and sharpened to slash at foes. They drank some “tonic” concocted by Sensei Santiago which he called “Missy’s Blessing”. Neither Saralax nor Vinnie wanted to further clarify what that meant and contained. The taste was horrific enough to give them vivid ideas.

They continued sparred against each other, and two on one against their teacher. Little by little, the two warriors became stronger and faster.

~

3 months of training time had passed. A month remained. Both Saralax and Vinnie had grown immensely in this time. Speed, strength and stamina were on a new level. They had even sparred against the sensei on an even fighting ground individually now. As a reward, their sensei agreed to show them one final move he had withheld from them thus far.

Sensei Santiago had brought them by a tranquil waterfall hidden somewhere in the depths of their new home. It felt like the harmonic centre of the jungle. He bode them to wait patiently and sat on the ground, in a meditative stance. His eyes closed and he sat there for a good 7 minutes in perfect silence. It felt like the winds around them had grown stronger. The water was moving faster in the waterfall. The grass was blowing all around their sensei…what was he doing? The environment around them seemed like it was coming to life.

His eyes suddenly opened.

Santiago had whiskers protruding from his face. His eyes had become similar to that of his cat. His body had grown slightly hairier and his ears seemed sharpened, again much like a cat. He purred softly, and Missy purred with him. Saralax laughed. Vinnie also smirked, but something was twisting in his stomach. His instincts were acting up. He was…afraid.

“Feline…Mode!” Whispered Santiago softly. Both Saralax and Vinnie were unsure how to react, but before they could even blink – their teacher had closed the 10 metre gap between them and sunk his fists into each of their guts. They could barely see him move…and the force of the punch was the most pain Vinnie had ever felt in his life…

 

Up Next: 4 Months Later – The 8 warriors assemble

His thick, rosy, bulbous cheeks were the tell-tale result of a life lived of overindulgent tendencies. His perfectly round spectacles added an air of cunning to his demeanour.  He was at the top of the food chain. The Alpha Dog.  Shabz – the Greatest entertainer in the world. The creator of all fighting spectacles. Trainer and Manager of the current champion. He was the King and this was his throne room. He looked down upon his magnificent Island, from within the comfort of his penthouse, at the final preparations being made. The grand Fighting Arena was almost complete, and the groundstaff were ensuring all was in order. Whatever the result, the money Shabz stood to gain would be a sizeable chunk. Afterall, which of these low life’s could stand against the current champion. Shabz had become a legend in his own mind, and was blissfully deaf to the savage background sounds coming from the room behind him…The Champions “Training” room.

Voice 1:“Feel the burn…burn the feeling.” *Whip*

Voice 2: “RICH!!” *whip*

Voice 1: “Feel the burn…burn the feeling” *whip*

Voice 2: “Beast!!” *whip*

…The exact same phrases and sound of a harsh bull-ship crackling into human flesh continued for hours.

Shabz had forged a monster from the depths of hell itself, completely void of all pain. 4 months of intense conditioning, and the champion would be his very own Frankenstein. The boat with the 7 guest fighters soon came into sight. Shabz sipped on a glass of red wine, a grin devoid of all humanity etched into the contour lines of his face, knowing in truth that the fate of those to arrive was set in stone.

~

Young Habaz hopped off the small row boat. A gentle stranger had freely agreed to commandeer him to the island. Though he did seem a little afraid of Habaz for some reason. People always seemed to be disillusioned into thinking Habaz would snap in a haze of violent fury if a request was refused. Personally, he believed he was one of the kindest guys there was around.

He had missed the main ship which the other fighters caught, and was quite visibly upset though. Habaz was often upset. He then proceeded to walk up to the great arena, which was said to be atop the one and only mountain on the small island. As he made his gradual way up to the apex of the mountain, the air became difficult to breath and stung his lungs.

He was the last of the seven fighters to arrive. There was quite a congregation surrounding most of the fighters, though the fighters themselves seemed in a world of their own – calm and focussed. A tall, very dark man seemed to be dancing elegantly with ear phones in his ears.

A muscular, short Asian man was bathing a smaller Asian man in a nearby lake with greater than normal attention to detail.

An overly fat man and a muscular tall man were kneeling in front of a dishevelled looking hobo, who was holding and gently caressing a cat in his arms. The Fat man was also surrounded by people wearing McDonalds work-wear and offering up cheeseburgers to the fat man to consume, a sentiment which he contently obliged.

These were the best the world had to offer?!

“Bunch of Weirdos! The lot of em’” Spat Habaz, completely disgusted. He was getting upset again. These fighters were a joke. Only two among the seven seemed like they belonged, apart from Habaz himself of course who made three. A tall, thin man with a serious glint in his eye and the number “23” on the back of his singlet. And then him…

The Former Champion. Prasadh “Angada Angada” Mohanadhasan. He was sitting cross legged. Alone, not a supporter in his midst. His eyes burned with a fire Habaz understood too well. The familiar giant Carrot insignia on his jacket gave away his identity to onlookers who spoke in excited and hush whispers. Habaz would be honoured to fight either of these two fighters, but the rest disgusted him. Where was the current champ though?! Habaz was upset.

“Welcome…Acclaimed Fighters from across the globe. Thank you for agreeing to participate in my tournament. It is time for the draw, to find out who your first opponent will be.” Bellowed Shabz from the nearby Speaker. The Fighters arose as if out of a deep slumber…It was time.

~

Each was to pick a numbered ball from a cubic enclosed box when called upon. Vinnie was nervous, but excited. His training with Saralax and the Cat Sage had prepared him to achieving the best possible outcome, but what if his opponent was the mighty Saralax himself? Only fate would decide though.

The small stadium crowd consisted of only the wealthiest in the world. While the event was televised world-wide, only the world’s best were invited by Shabz to experience his tournament live. And gamblers everywhere were keeping a close eye on the draw to define the odds.

A portly Announcer stepped up to a Cubic box. “When I Call your name, step up and pick your ball. That will have a number upon it which will dictate who and when you fight. Mr Balboa!” He Said.

Vinnie was first. “Dammit!” he cursed to himself. He walked up to the announcer and put his hand in to feel out the contents of the cube. He pulled out a Ball. #3 stared back at him.

Saralax drew # 6, much to Vinnie’s relief as only the Finals would force their confrontation.  The Champion was still missing but drew #8 – He would be the last fighter in round 1. Vinnie was, yet again, the first to be matched up with an opponent. The tall, Dark Dancer drew #4. He wore a white suit and a single white glove on his right hand.

“Hee hee hee. You’re gonna be hit by…your gonna be hit by…a Smooooth Criminal” Sang Adusius Banderias, pointing his white gloved index finger at Vinnie. For that moment, Vinnie Balboa transformed the man he used to be – Simple-minded and hot-headed.

“Uhh…I don’t think so… you Bastard!” he said as he quickly closed the gap between them and took a wild hook at Adusius. However, the Black bird poetically danced right around the Hook.

“She told me her name…was Vinnie Jean; as she caused a scene”, Adusius continued singing, “People always told me be careful of what you do , And don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts”.

“What did you call me! I Ain’t no woman!” Roared Vinnie Balboa, before completely getting consumed with white hot rage. Next thing he remembered was being completely subdued by the full weight of Saralax pinning him down.

“Hee hee hee…” Sang Adusius as he moonwalked off, fully aware of the moral victory of getting under his opponents skin.

Tension was all over the area now. With all the numbers now drawn, things were getting interesting.

Habaz was getting upset again at his opponent. His fists were clenched, and he started towards the Asian man who had clearly been mouthing off.

“Look here you Bastard! I don’t have any interest in bathing your little brother. I don’t know where that deranged thought came into that little pee-wee head of yours – but you best abandon it” said Habaz vehemently. Papa Geppi brandished the towel he had previously used to dry off his brother.

The Little brother looked on teary eyed at his older brother trying so hard to defend the honour and right of bathing him. “I bathe my Brother. Me and only me! I saw you eyeing us in the lake, but the only way you can bathe my brother…is if you go through me…” retorted Papa Geppi.

Habaz had limited patience for delusional fools. He was the first in line to fight, and why waste an unnecessary build up to a pre-determined result. He pulled out a bottle of malt liquor, and took a big deep swig. His eyes grew red, his speech slurred. But his drunken movements were poetic, and purposeful. Geppi was annihilated in a single unstoppable blow.

The first victim of the tournament had fallen before it even began. Papa Geppi was knocked into a coma and his brother lay weeping into his towel…

Throughout the drama…only one man remained stoic. The former Champion.

For his very first match, was a chance at redemption…

 

Up Next: An Origin Story – Prasadh Angada and the Amazonian Women of Eastwood

*Vinnie is a student at an all boys’ school. The scene begins with him strolling confidently into a crowded school cafeteria.. he makes his way to the end of the line*

*A group of 5 chatting boys join the line behind Vinnie. Vinnie glances in their direction, irritated by their loud chatting. 2 minutes later, he begins to lose his patience..*

Vinnie B: Ay. Why don’t ya keep it down, this is a public place, you know. You ain’t the only ones in this line, is alls I’m sayin’.

Jimmy (the leader): Why don’t you suck me off, Vinnie?

*The group of boys begin to laugh loudly*

Vinnie B: oh ha-ha, good joke Jimmy. That’s funny, you know… let’s just keep the volume down a bit, I ain’t havin’ such a good day y’know

Jimmy: What’s the matter Vinnie? Did your boyfriend breakup with you

*Boys laugh loudly… the whole cafeteria is looking over, some people are laughing along*

Vinnie B: Don’t do that, Jimmy.. you’re making me… angry… I don’t do so good when, I uhh… get angry.
I’m tryin’ here Jimmy, I really am. You ain’t gonna make me be bad and do bad things.. not me, no

*Vinnie has a flashback of his last school fight… the teachers have threatened to expel him for repeated acts of violence, and he is determined not to fight*

 

*Jimmy is at the front of the line. He orders a meal. As he is leaving the line, he smiles at his mates and pours a carton of milk on Vinnie Balboa’s head*

*Vinnie Balboa instantly lashes out with a wild right hook, connecting with Jimmy’s jaw. Jimmy crumples to the ground, as his 4 mates gather in a circular formation around Vinnie*
*All the students in the cafeteria are now chanting, ‘FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT*

Vinnie B: I don’t gotta do this. I ain’t a bad guy, let’s leave the fight here guys

*the boys attack in formation, wildly beating Vinnie. The teachers swarm into the cafe*

Teacher 1: BREAK IT UP BOYS, VINNIE!!! NOOOOO VINNIE DON”T DO IT

*Vinnie is in the grips of a powerful rage. The boys continue to beat him, but there is no pain. A white hot rage courses through him, numbing his body and mind. In the grips of his madness, he feels an inexplicable sense of joyous excitement..
He’s back. The true Vinnie Balboa is back*

*The teachers are pulling the boys apart. Vinnie Balboa explodes into action. The chanting of the crowds echoing in his ears… FIGHT FIGHT*

*Vinnie is throwing punches. He has lost control. The boys are trying to fight back, but Vinnie Balboa is in fine form. His attacks are swift, accurate, well timed and extremely forceful.*

Vinnie Balboa (yelling in a frenzy): OOOOOOOOOOOOO!! I AM VINNIE BALBOA… DON’T… MAKE…. ME …. ANGRY

*Vinnie Balboa is in the principals office. He is expelled. He stands without expression, slips on his black leather jacket and strolls out into the streets… as he leaves, he sees a small sign above a decrepit old building…. “MICKEY’S BOXING GYM”. He walks in*

 

Up Next – Back to the main story – The fight

A crowd has formed to watch the fight outside the bar.  The maid is amongst the crowd, watching anxiously…

*the crowd is electric. Police have been paid off, and are turning a blind eye to the organised fight between Garas and Vinnie Balboa. Bets are being placed amongst the crowd.*
*Vinnie stands at the centre of the makeshift ring, shirtless. Loud music plays as an entourage of 4 blacked out Mercedes rolls up. Garas steps out the backseat, all his boys behind him. Garas enters the ring*

*Vinnie Balboa stares at Garas, focussed but angry. Garas looks cool, calm, confident…*

Referee: ok boys… no gloves, no blood rule, no rounds fighting. We fight til one man can no longer continue. Got it?

Vinnie B: Got it

Garas: …

Referee: Ok, FIGHT!!!

*A street fight begins. After numerous blows are exchanged, both men are bloody and bruised, but continue to fight. Vinnie Balboa has a broken rib, and fractured wrist*

*Vinnie B falls, and Garas gets on top of him, beating him relentlessly. Vinnie B is seemingly finished. The crowd is chanting*

Garas whispers to a semi-conscious Vinnie Balboa.

*Vinnie begins to have flashbacks… his childhood. His father picks him up from a well.. ‘ why do we fall, Vinnie? So we can learn to pick ourselves up’*
*His adulthood…his mother smiles gently at him…’Remember, Kal-El-Balboa, you will be a god to them, my son*
*Vinnie’s flashbacks intensify, as Garas continues to smash his face in…*
*Flashbacks of training at the gym…finally, a flashback of his wife. Smiling gently. Adrian…*

*Vinnie begins to sit up, blood and tears streaming down his face*
He clamps clamps a hand around Garas’ neck and begins to pulverise his face with intensely powerful straight right hand punches.
The crowd is surging. Blood, sweat and tears stream from Vinnies face, staining the pavement a blackish red.

Vinnie B: “AAAADRRIAANNNN!!!”

*Vinnie B stands, victorious. The maid runs over and tries to hug him. Overcome with adrenaline and the ‘thrill of the fight’, Vinnie B knocks her out with a right hook. Police swarm, and Vinnie B is sent to prison for an undisclosed period of time.*

*Ending scene: Vinnie Balboa sits in his cell, quietly reading. Outside his cell, inmates and guards are gathered in a circle, as 2 men fight brutally…prison fights…they are cheering… Vinnie glances up from his book, only briefly, to observe the brawl. He continues reading.*

 

And now, YOU choose the story.

Is a hit being placed on Vinnie Balboa? Choose the Escape Arc.

Or is Vinnie Balboa given the chance of a lifetime to resurrect his career? Choose the Tournament arc.

You’re in control. Choose wisely.

*It has been 5 years since Vinnies defeat in the ring. His humiliation caused his marriage to fall apart, and led him to a life of alcoholism – wandering from bar to bar, drinking liquor, harassing women and fighting”*

*Vinnie is sitting at a quiet, dusty bar. It is dimly lit, and an attractive blonde maid is polishing beer mugs behind the bar.*

Vinnie B: Give me another beer
Maid: I think you’ve had enough, darling. Matter of fact, I’m just about to close this place up. Why don’t you go home and sleep it off, its 2am
Vinnie B: I ain’t got no home… it’s not home without you *smiling drunkenly*

Maid: Don’t you tease me now, Vinnie Balboa! *smiles*

*Vinnie gets up to leave, draining his last shot of whisky. He stands and walks out of the bar, into the empty city streets. In the distance, a dog barks. Vinnie walks over to his mustang, and climbs in drunkenly… as he’s fumbling with the keys, he hears a woman’s scream from the alley behind the bar. He stumbles into the alley, to find the maid being attacked by a group of 3 men…*

Vinnie B: *approaching the scene* HEY! Why don’t you leave her alone.

Man1: Don’t try be a hero old man, you could get hurt out here

Vinnie B: I’ll take my chances… hey listen up, I want you all to get outta here. And don’t come back, ok?

*Maid is weeping*

*the 3 men converge on Vinnie Balboa*

Man 2: You shoulda walked away. Now I’m gonna have to break your face

*Man 2 attacks Vinnie, stepping in and throwing a jab. Vinnie slips the jab and counters with a 1-2 jab straight righthand. Man 2 crumples to the ground, knocked out*

*Man 1 swings at Vinnie, Vinnie ducks it and counters with an uppercut. Man 1 stumbles back, and Vinnie opens up, throwing a 4 punch combination. Man 1 collapses, bloody and KOed*

Vinnie B (to Man 3): You sure you wanna stick around, tough guy?

Man 3: Those 2… that wasn’t a fair fight.

Vinnie: 2 on 1? You’re right, your friends were cowards. I don’t take too good to cowards, picking on this nice lady here

Man 3: that’s not what I meant… you’re a trained boxer. I can see it in your technique. How about you try me

*Man 3 assumes a boxing stance, and throws a jab. VB dodges it, but gets collected by a right hand. Both men continue to fight, throwing brutal combinations. Vinnie B gets knocked down. Man 3 stands over him, triumphant*

Man 3: you’re a washed up drunk.

Vinnie B: …

Man 3: rematch. You win, I leave the girl alone. I win, and we come back here every night til she gives me what I want *smiles*

Maid: NO VINNIE! DON’T DO IT VINNIE BALBOA!!

Vinnie B: … you got it, guy. All’s I need is a time and place. I win, you leave the girl alone. It’s a deal.

Man 3: the name’s ‘Garas’. Remember it, Vinnie Balboa.

*Fade out*
*Begin montage of Vinnie B training. He’s in the gym, lifting weights and jogging through the city streets.*

 

Up Next – A prelude: Vinnie Balboa Begins

Vinay (in gruff, Rocky style speech): I dunno, sometimes I just gotta fight… I didn’t ask to be like this, it’s how I was made

*Initiate Training sequence – Vinay lifting weights, drinking protein shakes and jogging in grey tracksuit.. Eye of the Tiger plays*

Vinay’s Wifey: You gotta stop this baby. I can’t see you get hurt anymore

Vinay (in gruff, Rocky style speech ): I can’t give up fighting. Not for you, not for nobody.. It’s all I got, Adrian. It’s all I can ever be.. I’m not smart, like regular people. I’m not pretty, like you. But in that ring, I feel like I can make miracles happen. It’s my one chance to make people happy – to make YOU happy

Vinay’s Wifey: Don’t talk like that baby, PLEASE DON’T.  *Starts to weep*

*Cue sad music – montage of Vinay looking sad yet determined. Skipping rope, training shirtless in the woods*

 

Press conference scene
Vinay is in a suit, talking to a large number of reporters at a press conference. An unnamed man begins to taunt Vinay.
Vinay get’s upset, and a scuffle ensues. He is restrained, yet visibly angry.

Vinay (in gruff, Rocky style speech… slurring his words with rage ): You wanna fight me? You’re all talk, your mouth won’t do anything for you in the ring. C’mon you, I’ll fix you up !!
Vinay’s wifey is weeping.

*Fade out*

 

Title Fight scene
Announcer: Ladiessss and Gentlemmennn.. Tonight’s challenger, all the way from SYDNEY AUSTRALIA… Mumbai born, Sydney raised, self-proclaimed “Vinay the Great”, aka. Vingeta, *CROWD CHEERING WILDLY* aka. Vinnus, aka. Vingina, aka. Binchi, aka THE BINCH

Entrance music plays loudly, as Vinay struts towards.

Vinay steps into the ring, as thousands of fans cheer.
He throws off his robe, to reveal a well – oiled body.

He begins to shadow box, warming up.

Announcer: And now, the heavy-weight champion of the world… the man who needs no introduction, PRRRRRASAADDHHHHHH  “AKA. ANGADA ANGADA ANGADA” MOOOHAANNAAADHAASAAANNNNN

*Prasadh runs into the ring, and the bell immediately tolls. The round has begun. Prasadh launches a straight right hand, and Vinay is knocked down. The fight is over within the first 0.5 seconds of the first round, setting a new boxing record and solidifying Vinay’s less than glamourous Legacy in the sport.*

*Vinay’s Wifey weeps*

 

Up Next – Bar Fighter