“My Grandfather used to always tell me that we were our own worst critics… that no one could break us down as effectively or as easily as we could break ourselves down. That stuck with me, you know? Because here I am on another God-forsaken losing streak, and somehow, in some way, it’s not my opponents getting into my head. It’s me. It’s like in the time I’ve been competing in the ring, I have never suffered from THIS much of a dry spell. It’s getting to the point where I’m left having to ask myself…
Do I even deserve to call myself “The All-Star” anymore?”
– Gavin Taylor, April 23, 2021
“If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make the change.”
– Batman
MONDAY, APRIL 26, 2021
10:00 AM
The scene opens up inside the office of Ava St. Claire, sole owner of the St. Claire Management Agency, and the Agent of one “All-Star” Gavin Taylor. And over the course of the weekend, Ava has found herself in an unfortunate position. She is there because last Thursday, April 22, her client lost on Breakdown. Now it’s public knowledge that Gavin Taylor’s win-loss record recently has been a little more in the red than the black. His last victory… his last victory of note… came on January 24, 2021 – little over three months ago. For three months since, Gavin Taylor has talked the talk. He has fallen to the likes of Owen Cruze, David Helms, Xander Valentine, Adam Allocco, and now Jordan Majors. Being on the consistent losing end would be enough to get into the head of anybody, but the All-Star? Gavin is renowned for his obnoxious ability to brush aside setbacks and move forward. But how much longer would he be able to do that? Ava, for all of her resources, was trying to keep Gavin afloat, trying to keep him from losing sight of his goals. But as the losses mounted, that task became taller by the day.
So as she sat in her office, joined only by the A.S.S. -. that is the All-Star Security force of Gavin Taylor, brothers Jack and Karl Barker, she didn’t even think about questioning the obvious. Looking at the brothers, she simply sighs.
“He’s dancing in the abandoned warehouse again, isn’t he?” Ava asks dryly. Jack and Karl can only shrug, though they suspect that her suspicions are correct; that Gavin is, in fact, dancing in the abandoned warehouse again a la Kevin Bacon in Footloose. Ava only sighs, sitting back in her chair., She reaches into her desk and pulls out a bottle of expensive brandy and a single glass. Popping the top off the bottle, she begins to pour herself a glass before looking up at the brothers. “What?”
“Drinking this early, Miss St. Claire?” Jack asks. Karl nods along, wagging his finger. “Don’t you know that you ain’t supposed to crack into the good stuff til noon?”
“Yeah, it’s like an unwritten law,” Karl adds. Ava smirks sarcastically before taking a drink.
“Do you guys know what it’s like to have to deal with a client like Gavin?” she asks, half-facetiously. Standing up, she takes another drink before setting the glass on her desk. “Gavin is petulant. He’s moody. He’s damn-near impossible to read. When he’s on a role, he’s one of the most obnoxious men I have ever known in my life and believe me, I have been with a lot of obnoxious men in my life. When he’s on a cold streak… because he doesn’t want to call them “losing” streaks – they have to be cold streaks… but when he’s on cold streaks, he becomes distant, withdrawn, and next to impossible to reason with. He says he has “his process”, but won’t share with fucking anybody what exactly that Goddamn process actually is. And then he drops off the face of the fucking Earth to blow off some steam by dancing in a warehouse which is probably the most blatant rip off of Footloose I have ever seen! So you know what? I’m sorry if I don’t feel like babysitting a man in his thirties through a cold streak because no one ever told him that whenever someone wins, someone has to lose. And I’m fucking sorry if I feel like having a glass of brandy at 10 in the fucking morning because I don’t know how else to cope with this entire situation! Fuck!”
Jack looks at Karl. Karl looks at Jack.
“Should we…” Jack begins.
“…maybe go?” Karl ends.
“No,” Ava says, sighing again. She rests her hands on her desk, holding herself up as she hangs her head. “No, you shouldn’t go. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have popped off on you two like that. I’m just under a lot of pressure lately, and with this Network bullshit breathing down my neck, I don’t know what to do.”
“That Network thing doesn’t sit right with us either,” Karl mentions casually. “Like, why did they decide to suddenly come to Gavin now after all these years?”
“Yeah, are there some ulterior motives or something?” Jack adds in. “And what’s with the blonde missy that they wanna saddle us with?”
“I’d give her the time of day, if you know what I mean,” Karl laughs as he and Jack begin playfully shoving to indicate that the two brothers do, in fact, know what Karl means. But Ava shakes her head.
“No, you guys are right, strange as it seems,” Ava admits. “I don’t like any of this. I mean, I get the idea of working in television and being subject to the whims of the employer, but this is going beyond a typical employer/employee relationship. They’re wanting to craft his public image with some blonde arm candy and staged public appearances? That’s an Agent’s job. And it’s not like Gavin to just roll over and let something like this happen.”
“So you are suspicious?” Jack asks. Ava nods her head.
“I’ve been suspicious since day one,” Ava confirms. Jack and Karl high five each other as if Ava’s confirmation means anything more than what she said on the surface. “I just don’t think we have any legal recourse right now. I’ve been reviewing the contract with our lawyers and it doesn’t seem to have any exit clause built into it. Gavin would have to drive the Network to cancel his contract while forgiving his debts, and from the sounds of this Corbeau, that’s just not happening any time soon.”
“So then what do we do?” Karl asks innocently. Ava sits back down, taking her glass and having another swallow.
“We find a way in,” Ava says, shrugging her shoulder. “We find a way to plant our own seeds inside The Network to figure out what’s really going on. We see if we can wade through the mindless meandering bullshit that’s been thrust upon Gavin to find some sort of meaning behind what is happening. We just can’t let this go away… it…”
BZZT!
The door to Ava’s office opens, with her assistant Violet Appleby popping her head in. Ava casually slides her brandy out of sight as she looks over at the young woman.
“Ms. St. Claire,” she begins. “There’s a…”
Violet hesitates. She has to lean back out of the door and mutter something before popping her head back in.
“Sofi de Fabiani here to see you?”
Ava looks back confused.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had any appointments,” she responds, now very careful to get the brandy back in her desk before standing up. She flattens some wrinkles down the front of her blouse as Jack and Karl remain inconspicuously seated. She looks over to them. “Guys? This is official business, so…”
A tall, statuesque blonde woman passes through the door. Ava instantly recognizes the young woman as the Network-assigned confidante to Gavin Taylor. Confidently, Sofi strides over towards Ava’s desk, standing with a smirk on her face.
“They can remain,” she says. “This does concern them too, after all.”
Jack and Karl, who had halfway risen to their feet, look to each other and shrug in stereo, sitting back down. Ava remains at her desk as the door closes behind Sofi.
“Oh,” she says, attempting to guard her resentment and recent alcohol consumption as she sits back down. “Well, to what do we owe this… pleasure then?”
“Relax, I come in peace,” Sofi says, striding around the chair in front of the desk and taking her own seat. She crosses one leg over the other, resting her hands on her knees as she looks to Ava before glancing around the office. “Cute setup here.”
“I’m sorry,” Ava says, attempting to mask any hostility. She puts on an almost convincing fake smile as she tilts her head. “How can I help you?”
“It’s not about how you can help me,” Sofi responds, shaking her head. “It’s about your client.”
This piques Ava’s attention. She sits up a little straighter, her hands pressing a little more firmly on the desk. She leans forward, almost as if she was instinctively ready to pounce in defense of Gavin Taylor. Sofi raises an eyebrow/
“What is this?” she says, shaking her head. “Why do you look like you’re going to dive over this desk and throttle me?”
“What about Gavin?” Ava asks straight-forward. “Is he in some kind of trouble? Do you know something we should know?”
“Imminent danger? Not that I’m aware,” Sofi says, shaking her head. “But I do believe Michel Corbeau’s plan to utilize him are insufficient and fueled more on professional and personal jealousy than anything else.”
“What do you mean?” Ava asks.
“Well… it began way back in 2010…” Sofi begins. “And a party that that he attended…”
JANUARY 13, 2010
The Baltimore, Maryland home of Chloe Barnes
11:30 PM
It was a World Championship celebration. Chloe Barnes, after having been denied the SWA World Championship many times over the years, was celebrating finally eclipsing those who held her down and earned the biggest prize in the land.
Is this the same Chloe who ended up marrying Donovan Kayl?
The very same, but please don’t interrupt my story. It’s very rude.
Sorry…
Anyway, Michel was invited to the party as part of the “Everyone’s invited to the party” provisions. Seriously. Everyone got invited to that party… well, except for the people who held Chloe back at that time. They weren’t invited, but why would they have wanted to be there anyway? Michel went as a representative of the Network, which aired CWF Television at the time. It was there that he saw her.
Chloe?”
No… well, yes, but no. Madison Chase, the youngest daughter of wrestling super-promoter, Broderick Chase. She was invited to the party specifically, and as soon as he saw her, he was smitten. If he had a ring in his pocket that night, God knows he might have actually proposed. So he tried to strike up a conversation.
“Hey,” he said to her, trying to be casual. He didn’t know what kind of men she went for, but she was apparently dating this Rage Blackwolf guy. He wasn’t at the party, though, so he thought he had a shot. But Maddie… she wasn’t interested.
Did she say “I’m not interested”?
Not in so many words.
“As if!” was more her speed. But that wasn’t the end of the story. It was 2010. We were still a few years off of the Me Too movement, and men, especially those in positions of power – and even though Michel hadn’t ascended to his current heights, being the son of the Network President did afford it’s perks – weren’t exactly motivated to take “no” and leave it as is. So he kept trying to talk to her. Kept trying to get her attention.
“Nice shirt,” he remarked, but Maddie took that differently.
“OMG are you staring at my chest!?” She wasn’t subtle in her rejections. But every time she would send him off, every time he would come back with a new, slightly different tactic. He wanted to be her Urkel.
Her what?
You know… “I’m wearing you down”. But Madison was tough. Finally, Michel found a tactic that he was sure would work. He would invite Madison onto his private jet and take her there. Again, this was eleven years ago… the world wasn’t ready for any kind of opposition to these tactics from powerful men. But he never got the chance. As he was making approach, he saw Madison heavily flirting with Gavin Taylor. He didn’t make another approach, and when he saw that Gavin had taken her to his private jet, and learned that they joined the Mile High Club that night, he was livid. He’d spend the next ten years attempting to figure out how to get his revenge against Gavin. It didn’t help that within three years, Gavin was employed by The Network on a lucrative co-promotion deal. He still wanted Madison, and would do whatever he had to in order to get her.
Back to the present…
“So he’s doin’ this ’cause he couldn’t get laid?” Jack Barker interjects from the sofa.
“If he was so powerful, why didn’t he just get a hooker?” Karl asks the next logical question.
“Please, bro,” Jack responds, nudging his brother. “Have you seen Baltimore hookers?”
“True story!” Karl laughs, and the brothers share a fist bump. Ava and Sofi both give Gavin blank expressions before snapping out of it. Ava looks to Sofi.
“That’s a very convincing story,” she begins, still not entirely trusting the blonde woman. “But why should we believe you? For all we know, you were sent here to tell us this story to throw us off the scent of what’s actually going on.”
“You’re an intelligent woman, Ava,” Sofi begins, her voice softening. “Do you really believe that I would break away from Michel to tell you this if it wasn’t true?”
“I don’t know you very well,” Ava correctly points out. “I do know that I didn’t get where I am by blindly believing any story that came across my eyes. Can you give me any proof?”
“Unfortunately, all I have is my word,” Sofi says as she shakes her head. “And who am I? Just another blonde bimbo making an accusation against a powerful man pertaining to a story that doesn’t involve me.”
“And how exactly did you learn of this story anyway?” Ava asks, still trying to make sense of everything she heard. “Did Michel just tell you?”
“Yes, actually,” Sofi says. “When he informed me that I would be assigned to be a companion to the All-Star, he relayed a sanitized version of this story to me… saying that he could have given her a better life than Gavin has.”
“I believe her, Ava,” Jack says. They look to Karl, who nods his head in agreement.
“And why are you even telling us this?” Ava asks. “You could have latched onto this assignment the whole way and gone with Gavin to the top. Why are you jeopardizing your placement?”
“I know you don’t trust me,” Sofi says, tilting her head slightly. “But Gavin’s not a bad person. He doesn’t deserve to have his life manipulated the way Michel wants to. And when this Network association blows up, I don’t want to be thrown out with the bathwater, so to speak. Because while he may be in a slump or a cold spell, someone like me can learn an awful lot about dealing with the press or managing yourself in situations that go sideways from someone like Gavin. I don’t want to lose that, and if telling you what I know means I have even a small chance to keep it beyond the end of this, well… you know what I know.”
Ava looks Sofi in the eyes, seeing only sincerity in the blues. She looks over to Jack and Karl. Karl, who has apparently still been paying attention, gives Ava a thumb up. Jack drifted down to his cell phone, scrolling through Twitter before Karl nudges him. Jack snaps back to life and gives an enthusiastic thumb up as well. Ava nods.
“Okay,” Ava says, standing in front of the woman. Sofi stands as well, not wanting to be stood over. “You’re in, Sofi. You can help us work through the mud of what The Network is doing to Gavin. But be warned: Betray us, or betray Gavin, and I won’t hesitate to see you blacklisted through the entire country. Understood?”
Sofi nods her head. Ava nods back in response… and an alliance is set.
THURSDAY, APRIL 29, 2021
1:30 PM
Gavin Taylor has been obsessed with correcting whatever flaws may have crept into his in-ring performances. Five consecutive losses… even against former World Champions like Owen Cruze and David Helms, or former contenders like Jordan Majors… have taken their toll on the psyche of the man known the world over as “All-Star”. Gavin competes with wireless electrodes stickered to his chest, which monitor his heartrate and other vital signs as he spars with a variety of hired hands. These individuals come in varying sizes, as Gavin is looking to keep in shape against a variety of styles.
“Again!” Gavin barks out at the crowd, prompting another man to climb into the ring with him. The man charges, swinging a cumbersome arm towards the All-Star, but Gavin has it well-scouted, ducking under it and, upon rebounding off the ropes, connecting with his own Gavin Taylor Lariat, turning the man inside out as he crashes to the mat. Gavin pushes him out of the ring. “Come on… is this the best you can do? I need a challenge here!”
“Mr. Taylor,” a familiar voice echoes out from behind Gavin. The All-Star’s eyes close as he knows exactly who’s behind him.
“Corbeau,” he says with all the contempt he could muster… clearly we’re talking about a relationship that is starting to border on Seinfeld and Newman levels here. “Take five, guys.”
The group sparring with Gavin begin to disperse, and Gavin removes the electrode probes from his chest, passing them off to a technician as he walks from the ring. Moving to the benches, he grabs a bottle of water, all the while Michel Corbeau had followed him around the training center.
“This is a private gym, Corbeau,” Gavin points out. “How’d you get in?”
“Oh, you’ll find that any doorman worth his weight answers to a few Presidents,” Corbeau chuckles, rubbing his fingers together. Gavin simply rolls his eyes, attempting to ignore the impotent boasts of his technical-boss.
“What do you want?” Gavin sharply asks. “I’m off this week with the SCW show this weekend. Big match, you know?”
“Yes, I heard,” Michel nods his head. “Bree Lancaster… that’s a big fish in the pond you’re about to tangle with. A veritable Moby Dick.”
“I don’t think she’d appreciate you talking about her like she’s some whale,” Gavin smirks. The idea had passed through his head to anonymously get that knowledge to Bree – she would likely raise hell and send Corbeau hiding so deep that this Network experiment would fall apart.
“Very drole, All-Star,” Michel says with a haughty head shake of derision. “But you and I both know what this means. This is a big opportunity for you. Former World Champion. But then… this isn’t the first time you’ve taken on a former World Champion, is it?”
“Again,” Gavin reiterates. “What do you want? I don’t have time to wax poetic with you.”
“That is quite alright with me, Mr. Taylor,” Michel responds. There is a sense of hostility between the two, through Corbeau would never admit it and is slightly better at covering that fact with the veneer of professionalism – something he wasn’t certain Gavin could even spell. “I’m actually here to discuss business with you.”
“It’s my week off,” Gavin reminds him. “Again, big match.”
“I know, but this isn’t Network-related,” Michel moves around, pushing Gavin’s belongings to the side as he sits down on the bench. Gavin shakes his head as he pats his forehead of sweat. “Your performance on the Network has been adequate, Gavin. But it’s your performance in the ring that we’re concerned about it.”
“Join the club,” Gavin says cynically, taking a drink of water.
“As a representative of The Network, we tend to expect a certain level of excellence from you.” Michel continues, starting to seek out the right buttons to press. “And so far, while you defeated three competitors in January, you haven’t exactly excelled lately, have you?”
“It’s a cold streak,” Gavin remarks in an effort to dismiss the criticism. “It happens to all great athletes. You would know that if you were one.”
“Yes, I’m sure I would,” Michel laughs, an act that Gavin finds rather obnoxious. Still, he bites his tongue. “But we’re not exactly talking about a cold streak. It seems that you go on these cyclical runs. You have times where you are very good, and times when you are… well… this.”
“And what’s that supposed to me?” Gavin begins getting defensive. Michel puts his hands up in an effort to satiate the All-Star.
“I don’t mean to offend you, Gavin,” Michel responds ingenuously. He totally meant to offend Gavin, and Gavin himself recognized that. “It’s just that… well, I’m thinking my predecessor, September Mills, may have been blinded by a hot streak from you and signed you to an inappropriate deal given your performance history.”
“My performance history is fine!” Gavin again remains defensive. “You think it’s easy? You try stepping in the ring with Xander Valentine. I’ll donate to your funeral costs myself.”
“No thank you,” Michel laughs again, bringing Gavin’s blood to a low simmer. “I know my limitations and accept them. You, however, you bark this tale that you’re a “main event” guy, and then when you’re given the opportunity to prove it, with all due respect, you choke.”
Gavin heard the words and had no response. He secretly wanted to tell Xander Valentine that this pencil-neck geek thought Gavin’s loss to him was just a choke job, that Xander had no bearing, but Gavin didn’t relish the prospect of sharing a hospital room with this man, as Xander would not take such a comment lightly.
“You see, Gavin, you’re supposed to be “The All-Star,” Michel keeps digging the knife, twisting it ever so slightly. Gavin shifts uncomfortably. “But All-Stars tend to win Championships, don’t they? All-Stars are able to carry themselves, lift themselves up and above adversity, and keep moving forward. You hit adversity and WHAM! You’re stuck at the wall. Not very All-Star-like of you, is it?”
“What do you want?” Gavin responds in a hushed tone, his patience wearing incredibly thin at the moment. “I’m very busy.”
“Yes, I’m sure you are, and I’ll let you get back to this soon enough,” Michel dismisses Gavin’s “busy” claim. “It’s my goal here to alleviate some of the pressures you might be feeling. Because I know how difficult this must be for you to go out there week after week and call yourself “The All-Star”, only to lose. That, my friend…”
“We’re not friends,” Gavin says slightly over his breath, but not enough to deter Michel from continuing his thought.
“…is why I’m prepared to help you out,” he finishes. Gavin laughs.
“You? Help me out?” Gavin wasn’t sure just how much he should laugh at that thought, or how serious Michel was. But still, the Network suit nods his head, resistant to any sort of derision from “The All-Star”.
“Yes, Gavin, I believe I can help you out,” Michel says. “I have discovered a way that we can wipe your debt to the Network clean. No more pressers. No more confidants… although Sofi has taken quite the shine to you, even telling your friends about “my plan”.”
Michel laughs. Gavin turns his head towards him, raising an eyebrow.
“No more you?” he asks. Michel nods in the affirmative.
“No more me,” he responds.
“What do I have to do?” Gavin asks again. “You’re not going to make me a hired gun to get gambling debts, are you? Or a drug runner? I have a reputation to maintain, and getting caught up in that…”
“No, no,” Michel responds. “Nothing illegal. This is about taking the weight off your shoulders, freeing you of your Network obligations, and giving you a new lease on life. And all you have to do…”
“Yeah?” Gavin is ready to hear what Michel wants…
“… is sign over your trademarks to me,” Michel grins a wide grin. Gavin appears confused…
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning that The Network,” Michel begins to explain. “Or, more accurately, I would own the name “All-Star”. You would be able to continue using it, if you feel you’re even worthy of the name today, but any residuals, any profits, any sort of monetary advantage that would come from the name would be instantly signed over to me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Gavin remarks, going to stand to return to his training.
“Is it, though?” Michel questions. “How much longer can you keep this façade alive, Gavin? You’re already on a losing streak…”
“Cold streak!” Gavin snaps back.
“Whatever,” Michel responds, dismissing Gavin’s preferred term. “How much longer can you carry the weight of being a master athlete, born with God-given talents that make you “better” than your opposition, while continually falling at the feet of said opposition? How much longer can you honestly say you are “The All-Star” before someone out there calls you out on the fact that right now, in 2021, you can’t buy yourself a fucking win!? Gavin, I’m offering you a chance to escape that vice that is binding you. I’m offering to take the All-Star moniker from your portfolio. I’m offering to let you use it afterwards out of the goodness of my heart because, deep down, you know that this slump is going to continue. And how long until it begins to set in outside of the ring? In Network-approved operations? In your personal life? In the bedroom?”
“Enough!” Gavin snaps at Michel, standing over him. “And what? You “graciously” let me use my name, and if I don’t perform to “your” specific requirements, you strip it from me and name someone else “The All-Star”?”
“Well, yeah,” Michel nods. “Pretty much. If you’re not profitable to my expectations, I’d have every right to do that.”
“No deal,” Gavin waves him off, going to return to his training.
“Think about this, Gavin,” Michel responds while not moving from his bench. Gavin lets out an exasperated noise, turning to face him again. “You’re not going to be able to fool them forever. You keep calling yourself “The All-Star”, but eventually you’re going to be exposed because you’re not an All-Star, not really. You’re a solid hand, no doubt. A workhorse? Sure. Those are things you can’t quite put on t-shirts, I know, but that’s more who you are today than “The All-Star”. I’m offering a way for you to save face, embrace your new role in your chosen career, and free yourself of this apparent weight we’ve placed on your shoulders. Otherwise, I’ll keep using you… I’ll get every last cent out of you that I am entitled and leave you drained and empty. I’ll give you twenty four hours to decide for sure… but Gavin, if I was you, I’d take the offer. “The All-Star” name, or whatever this is.”
Gavin is rendered speechless, possibly for the first time in his life. Michel Corbeau rises from his seat and strolls past Gavin whistling a careless tune as he moves on by. Gavin can only remain where he stands as the obnoxious Network representative leaves…
“If I’m not “The All-Star”, then who exactly is Gavin Taylor?
When I started in my career, I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know who I wanted to be. I debuted in the Wrestling Association of Mexico under the alias of “Rock Strongbow”. Part of me didn’t want to be found out. If the professional wrestling thing didn’t pan out, I could go back to America and find another line of work in my real name – something like broadcasting or Hollywood… something where I could put my natural charm and charisma to work for me. But the wrestling thing not only panned out, but I was able to take on my own name… “Gavin Taylor”… and register trademarks so that even when I wasn’t in the ring, I could still be bringing in money through merchandise and advertising and other avenues. It was brilliant. I was brilliant. And ever since then, for the last thirteen years, I have been “The All-Star”. Other names have come since those days, and my passive income has grown exponentially, but one thing I’ve always had is that. Whenever I get to the ring, the people expect The All-Star! It has become so much more to me than a moniker over the last decade-plus. It has become a representation of who I am as a man. It’s gone so far that there are times that I don’t know where “The All-Star” ends and where “Gavin Taylor” begins.
Long and short, if I’m not the All-Star, I don’t know who I am.
Like right now.
I’ll be the first person to tell you that since my utterly dominating victory over Katie Steward, Holly Adams, and Polly Playtime back in January, I haven’t been the All-Star that comes as advertised. Has my game suffered? Not particularly… I don’t want to take anything away from the five people that have managed to get one over on me these past three months. SCW as it is happens to be the most stacked roster, top-to-bottom, in wrestling. The most talented roster in the world is right here, so there should be no shame in falling to last minute mistakes costing me. After all, I have kept pace with everyone I’ve been up against… don’t believe me? Watch the matches again. There’s no match in this stretch where Gavin Taylor was “totally outclassed”. I have proven time and time again that I do belong in an SCW ring, and no one h ad better damn well tell me any different. The only thing I haven’t been getting are the W’s.
Because in this company, one mistake can mean the difference between a win and a loss.
And look, I don’t want to say that I’d absolutely have won those matches if I hadn’t made those mistakes, but I think the idea that Gavin Taylor has somehow lost a steps are a tad premature. And there is nothing that Gavin Taylor does that is “premature”. Because even though I’m on a five match cold streak… even though I’m working through a few kinks to remove those mistakes from my game so I can continue on the road to the top, let there be no doubt in anybody’s mind that Gavin Taylor is, in fact, on his way up the ladder in SCW. No doubt. Not even a passing question. You want evidence of that? Look at what they have me doing at Be Careful What You Wish For.
Gavin Taylor. Bree Lancaster. A match that would main event any wrestling company in the world… hell, the universe. Bree wants to show the world that she should still be World Champion today, and if it weren’t for Ace Marshall’s charity case gauntlet title match, she would be. I understand Bree’s frustration, too… believe me. To watch someone else parade around with something that you worked so hard to achieve… something that you put so much blood, sweat, and tears into acquiring in the first place…
I get it more than you might think.
For Bree Lancaster, this is an opportunity to show that she still belongs on top of the mountain here in SCW, the most talented company in the world. For Gavin Taylor, it’s a chance to show that I belong there period! I hear the rumblings. I know what people say about me. I know that there are those who don’t believe in the All-Star even now! Even after I took Xander Valentine farther than he’d been taking at any point of his United States Championship run, one that would now be OVER had it not been for him luckily catching me with the Fade to Black. Xander escaped with the Championship last month, but make no mistake… I was the one who actually won the night because I walked away from the arena under my own power… Xander limped. He limped out of the building and still I don’t get the respect for what I’m capable of!
Shit!
What I said before the last Breakdown… when I said I needed the win on that night… well, I still need the win. But now it’s not as much about breaking this cold spell. But I know I’m not going to get the respect that I know I deserve unless I finally can convert my words into wins. And since there’s no Supreme Championship Wrestling Twitter Championship… yet… I can only do that in the ring.
And so we come to this… Gavin Taylor. Bree Lancaster. One on one inside the ring. A match that could main event anywhere in the known universe. Bree, I want you to know that I don’t dislike you. I respect you. I admire you. I respect and admire you because unlike some the SCW roster, you’re not averse to just saying what you think. You’re not going to dive into petty, dismissive bullshit of a Katie Steward or have to politically align yourself to try and stay relevant like Syren. You are who you are. I’m cool with that. But I’m Gavin fucking Taylor. I can’t let respect or admiration cloud my judgment and distract me from what needs to be done. I have been living in the shadow of my expectations for far too long, and it’s time I break free from that shadow and start to take what’s expected of me. And if that means going all out against someone I respect and admire? Well, you’ll understand.
And at Be Careful… I’m not going to keep saying the full name… at Be Careful, I’m going to show that I am as good as I say I am. I’m going to prove that I am a premier athlete… that I am a Champion in waiting… because I am Gavin Taylor…
THE All-Star!”
FRIDAY, APRIL 30, 2021
2:17PM
Michel Corbeau sits in his limousine, his laptop open on his lap (conveniently) as he reads some news from Twitter. Bemused by what he sees, he shakes his head, and as he does that the phone echoes throughout the back of the limo. Smiling, Corbeau presses a button on his center console.
“Hello?” he asks.
“No deal, Corbeau,” the voice of Gavin Taylor says through the limo.
“Who is this?” Michel raises an eyebrow at the abrupt sound of the All-Star’s voice in the limo.
“I know who I am,” Gavin responds, still not answering the direct question. “I’m the All-Star. That’s not just a moniker. That’s not just a wrestling gimmick, Michel. That’s who I am. That’s who I am inside, something you would never understand. And the name isn’t for sale. No amount of money you could give me will change that.”
“You’re making a huge mistake, Mr. Taylor,” Michel shakes his head, having figured out who was on the other end of the phone. “You could be free of this.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gavin responds. “Having you out of my life would be a nice treat, but the man that would be left there isn’t me. You wanted resolve? You wanted to know what I was made of? It’s this. I’m working off my debt the honest way… not your way.”
“So be it,” Michel remarks, pressing the button to disconnect the phone. Sighing, he looks back to his laptop. The camera pans around to see what he was reading on the laptop…
PRINCIPAL PHOTOGRAPHY BEGINS IN SASKATCHEWAN FOR NEW DEPENDABLES FILM
Michel smirks, dialing the phone through his console again. The phone rings and after a few, there’s a pickup.
“Hello, Valerie?” he says. “Get me a plane ticket to Regina, Saskatchewan. I have an old flame to visit.”
He smirks as he hangs up the phone, thinking about what he might say to the “old flame” when he gets to Saskatchewan, and the scene goes black.
"The All-Star" Gavin Taylor 