Yo, yo, yo everybody and welcome back ONCE again to the weird and wonderful life of the Austrian Death Machine himself, Arnold Braunschweiger!
That’s right, haha, it’s your boy The Narrator here after SIX LONG YEARS away from the game, and man, I admit I am JUST as surprised as you guys that they brought me back! I mean, this is Hollyweird yo, so the fact that I didn’t get re-cast in favour of a bigger name is like, mind blowing to me, it really is.
But here I am, my guys gals and everyone in between, ready to once again take you warmly by the hand and guide you through the madcap crazy world of the big man from Vienna!
So, where to begin…
I guess we get the admin outa the way, huh? So the big man… still big, still a man, and still signing my paycheques despite the fact I haven’t really been doing much for the last few years, so that’s a win for me right there. And he’s still kicking ass and taking names in Hollywood, which goes without saying as one of the biggest stars on the face of the planet!
Oh, and the biggest hell yeah moment? He kicked that annoying bitch April to the curb sometime in early twenty twenty one! She tried to take the Big Guy to the cleaners during the divorce, claiming she deserved half of everything, exactly as you’d expect when a gravy train stops calling at your station, but when the rest of The Dependables all went on record to claim they’d slept with that ho over the years she was married to big Arn, her case collapsed quicker than a House of Cards staring a disgraced ex-actor. Controversial reference to an industry douchebag? Check!
Obviously, The Dependables are still clanging and banging, too! With a new member, following the departure of that hottie Ms. Chase, but more on all of that later, given it’s kind of why we here, ain’t it?
In big news, Arnie’s kid from a previous marriage turned up a few years ago too, which you lot probably know all about already, assuming you were able to put two and two together while watching all that SCW programming as of late. But how about we do the movie thing and take things back a little and go into that in detail?
Insert Wayne’s world style transition right here… if we’ve got the budget for Mike and Dana that is.
Action!
Universal Studios Lot
Universal City
Studio City, CA
3rd February, 2024.
The deepest rainforest, foliage thick and drenched with droplets of condensation. A spectral mist hovers over the ground, swirling in the half light of a sunrise which barely breaks through the tree line.
In the background, birdsong fills the early morning air, as we move through the bush, coming to a rest in front of an ancient kapok tree, gnarled roots travelling outward across the ground from the base of the trunk, visible above the soil before disappearing far beneath, anchoring the ancient colossus to the ground.
The knotted rough texture of the trunk appears to begin to shift, and as if by the magic of movies, a figure appears, no longer masked by their absolute stillness against the trunk, the whites of their eyes a stark contrast to the gray-brown of the rough bark. Dried mud cracks across his body as Arnold Braunschweiger reaches for the strap on his shoulder, swinging the M27 rifle he carries around from his back to shoulder it.
Taking his first cautious step forward, Arnold steps from the tree, rifle still aimed in front of him as other figures appear from their own hiding places close by. Joined by Dependables members Jacques Cristophe Von Doome, Sly Mallone and Chuck Taurus, each carrying their own heavy weaponry apart from Taurus, who advances with his fists raised ready to tussle.
The four heroes slowly advance, taking slow cautious steps, attempting to avoid bringing attention to their presence as they stalk their target. Arnold, alert as ever, pauses in his conveyance, brings a hand up to halt the group, before bringing a single finger to his lips as if to tell them to be quiet as he nods his head in a direction off to their left.
“Sacre bleu mon ami, ZEM could have this entire area trapped in the boobies, we should take care!”
“Ey yo, they ain’t got no boobies over here, this is a rainforest. Boobies like, live at sea!”
“Monsier, I am meaning zat zey may have trapped boobies in preparation for our arrival! Zis is ZEM we are talking about, after all!”
“Ey yo, what are you talking about over here, I just told you they ain’t got no Boobies in the rainforest, they’re like, sea birds!”
“Will you idiots stahp?! THEM will hear us coming from a mile away if you keep bick-uh-ing like this!”
Confusion spreads across Sly Mallone’s face as he brings a finger up to his head to scratch at his chin, the cogs of his mind almost audible over the sounds of the deepest rainforest they find themselves in.
“Chuck Taurus thinks we should split into two groups. A pincer movement. Draw fire on the right, letting me sneak in on the left and let them get these hands!”
“Chuck is right owf coerse, we need to use the element of surprise. Jacques, Sly, you two go right, see if you can get to thaht choppa inside of the compound. We got the other way, sneak in through the—”
While there is little doubt that the plan from Arnold would have been an impeccable one, undoubtedly leading to our heroes saving the day, stopping THEM and rescuing any damsels in distress that should require as such, the remainder of it went unheard as the arrival of another man in the jungle brought it to a sudden and disappointing close.
“Sorry I’m late… nobody knocked on my trailer, I missed the call…”
Arnold, looking over the shoulder of the others, unleashed a furious eye roll which would have been enough to incapacitate at least three members of THEM by its self, as he mumbled something under his breath in German that went unheard by the others, before he lowered his rifle and turned to look around.
“CUT!”
The words come from the mouth of Arnold himself and the lights in the jungle suddenly flare with the brightness of a thousand suns as the floodlights of the studio overhead light up and a siren blares in the background to signify they are no longer rolling. The newcomer, for some reason wearing a dressing gown over the top of his jeans and t-shirt, sips from a Styrofoam coffee cup, puzzled about what’s happening around him as Arnold turns to look at him, looking a trifle miffed.
“Patrick, whaht are you doing? You do naht just walk onto a closed set as the cameras are rolling!”
“They’re not, they’re all standing still on those wheely tripod things, it’s why I walked over. When do we start?”
Propping his prop firearm against the trunk of the fake tree behind him, Jacques turns to face the younger Austrian.
“Monsieur, we had already started. Camera’s rolling is a turn used for when zee cameras are live and filming the scene being acted out in front of zem. You understand zis, non?”
Patrick’s face flushes with embarrassment but he nods in what he thinks is a casual manner, proving he has absolutely none of his fathers acting chops.
“Yeah, obviously I knew that. I was just joking around, clearly.”
“The set is naht a place for joking around, Patrick!”
“Alright, well pardon me for trying to lighten the mood on my first movie project, Father. I thought with your comedy chops that people may remember from films such as ‘Pre-School Cop’, ‘Whipper-Snapper’ and ‘Tinkle Half The Way’ that you may understand but I guess not!”
“I ahm perfectly capable of understahnding a joke Patrick, but every delay costs money. You don’t need to be on set until this ahfternoon. Okay guys, how about we take fifteen, huh?”
The mumbles of the crew behind the cameras and equipment seem to agree that it’s a good idea and Chuck Taurus, Sly Mallone and Jacques Cristophe Von Doome all nod before making their way over to their luxuriously comfortable chairs to the side of the set. Arnold walks towards his son and throws an arm around his shoulder, however.
“How about we take a wahlk, just you ahnd me.”
“Fine.”
Arnold, pulling out a cigar, pats his son on the shoulder reassuringly before confidently beginning to stride off set, leaving the younger Braunschweiger to follow in his wake. The lot outside is busy, with people generally milling around while others walk with purpose to the various sets within studio city. Smoke from his stogie circles above the head of the great Arnold Braunschweiger and those outside part like the red sea as he approaches, walking towards the ostentatious trailer which sits nearby.
Would you look at this guy, yo. Talk about some bick dick energy, am I right? Man, it’s easy to see why the big man been cooking in this industry for decades, he just has that aura, you know?
Like, he walks in a room and heads turn. Proper Hollyweird superstar status that b-list tv movie actors that you may see on SupremeCW programming could only DREAM about comparing to, know what I mean?
Anyway, what was I cutting in here for? Oh yeah, so to give some context and save time on exposition and all that jazz, big Paddy over there, wants to follow his pops into celebrity. Not acting per-se, he went to his daddy and said I know who you are and what you do, and I want that success too. Nice little “Pre-School Cop” reference for you there.
The problem is, while the Big Man may have had to earn his stripes in the business, he had the charm and charisma to make it. His kid? He’s got the surname, and that’s about it. And when he doesn’t truly even see the business AS his calling, it kind of spells disaster. Fortunately, pops isn’t as dumb as his friend Sly Mallone looks and he had an idea that may just help…
The door to Arnold’s trailer swings shut behind them as father and son enter the ostentatious hideaway from the rigors of the set when production wasn’t rolling. The inside was luxurious but impersonal, save for a life-sized cardboard cutout of Arnold himself, from his bodybuilding days, striking a pose, along with a couple of movie posters on the walls behind it which Arnold took in for a moment before turning to take a seat on the couch, watching as his son retrieved a water from the refrigerator and turned to look at his pops, who pointed at him with his lit cigar.
“If you truly wahnt to follow in my footsteps Patrick, you are going to hahve to learn the ins and outs of the business, sonny…”
“It was all a—”
“Come ahn junior, think about who you ahre dealing with, heeur; I know thaht wasn’t just a joke.”
“Okay, fine, I balls’d up, okay? But come on pops, this is my big debut!”
Puffing away at his stogie, Arnold could understand his sons overexcitement; it was a lifetime ago that he made his own big screen debut and he remembered how excited he was to film his first role, Cohen The Barbarian. In fact, he had been so excited on his first day of filming that he almost ran his stunt double through with his sword, and given it was a rubber prop sword, it was an impressive feat indeed. Blowing a few smoke circles, the older Braunschweiger gestured to the second sofa across from him and Patrick sat down with a sigh.
“When you told me you wahnted to follow me into the business, I was over thee moon, Junior. Ahnold and Patrick Braunschweiger, father and son, making moovees together. A new generation of fans with a new hero to idolise. My son. My flesh and blood.”
“That’s all I wanted too…”
“But now I ahm not sure if this is whaht you really DO wahnt, Patrick.”
With eyes wide in shock, a look of pained upset spreads across the face of Patrick which quickly turns to a defiant scowl.
“Then tell me what it is you think I DO want, Pops!”
“To be famous…”
The accusation hung in the air between the two, like a fart in an elevator, and the silence was heavy. Eventually though, Patrick signed and looked away, leaving his father to suspect that his feeling was on the money.
“There’s nothing wrong with thaht, Patrick. In fahct, thaht is basically what the younger generation wahnt, isn’t it? With their Youtubes and their Tiktoks, ha ha. In fahct, I saw this one tiktok the other day thaht—”
“Father, please, I don’t want a lecture about social media right now, okay? Is this your way of telling me that you don’t want me in the movie?”
Arnold looks a little taken back at his sons question and he quickly waves a hand that scatters cigar ash around the room as he tries to subdue his sons worries.
“Of course naht. Whahtever made you think thaht was whaht I was trying to say?”
“Well, you saying you don’t think I want to be an actor gave me a hint…”
“Alright smahrt ass, watch it with the quips, thahts my department. Look junior, whaht I’m saying is thaht maybe you’re thinking about the wrong line of work. Maybe following pops into the moovee business isn’t the cahlling for Patrick Braunschweiger!”
“Are you saying that you think I should follow you into the WRESTLING world?!”
“Bingo!”
A stab of his stogie punctuated his point perfectly before Arnold placed it between his teeth.
“I’m sure your scenes with Destiny would have been spellbinding sonny boy, but whaht if your true cahlling is something else entirely? I may be the Austrian Death Machine, but come ahn Patrick, I clearly cannot keep protecting Supreme Chahmpionship Wrestling from THEM forever… someone else has to step up and continue to ensure the safety of the professional wrestling world sooner or later!”
“Those bastards…”
The water bottle in Patrick’s hand is crumpled in his closed fist as he balls it in anger, water cascading to the floor of Arnold’s trailer with a thud.
“Maybe you’re right, pops… maybe my calling isn’t the fantasy world of Hollywood make believe. Maybe my calling is the deadly serious life or death world of Professional Wrestling!”
As if filled with a holy fire, Patrick pushes to his feet, bringing that same curled fist up to his chest as he looks up and off into the distance despite being confined inside of a trailer.
“Where nothing matters more than beating others, than winning matches and collecting championship gold. Where ego’s are stroked and coddles mollied. Where—”
Oooookay, gonna beep this little speech out, don’t want to rub the wrestling community up the wrong way, do we? But mark my words, dear viewers, as the great omniscient narrator, I can confirm it was an impassioned speech that would rouse even a corpse to rigidity! Boner joke, for the win.
Glowing with pride, Arnold stands up and pats his son on the shoulder, beaming.
“Thahts my boy! Obviously, we need to finish this moovee, but the MINUTE we wrap, we ahre going to get in thaht ring and do a whole SERIES of training montahges and get you into ass kicking form!”
“Every great movie needs a montage, pops! Just like every great training regime too!”
“Patrick, you son of a bitch!”
The dap between father and son that occurred in that moment was so loud, that the trailer rocked under the effects, far surpassing the one from Arnold’s movie “Marine” in 1995 between him and the character of Dillon played by Karl Weathered.
“Wait… did you just call Mom a bitch?”
“Um…”
And just like that my guys and gals, Patrick Braunschweiger the professional wrestler was born as an idea… an idea which went on to become a reality, which kind of catches us up to where you fine peeps are at! The fight against THEM, the desire to ignore a couple of muppets called Chris and Ryan or whatever the hell those two dumbasses are called. The hunt to save Destiny Page, who is FIIIIIINE, and the triumphant yearly return of The Dependables in Supreme Championship Wrestling along with it. What a time to be alive, am I right? Oh yeah!
Super-secret, extremely Dependable training facility
Hollywood Hills, CA
Summer 2025
“Ey yo, forty nine… Ey yo, fifty! Great job over here, kid!”
An extremely sweaty Patrick Braunschweiger collapses under the weight of Sly Mallone sat on his back, the fatigue of being put through his paces in the training facility owned by his father starting to catch up to him as Chuck Taurus offers his hand to the Italian American Stallion to remove him from the young Austrian.
The training has been tough. The preparation exhausting. The extra’s knocked unconscious numerous. But with the help of The Dependables, Patrick Braunschweiger had taken himself from absolute wrestling rookie to capable superstar in the making and while he looked done for at present thanks to having to lift the considerable bulk of Sly Mallone during his final round of push up’s, his spirit was not broken.
With a damsel in distress to find and the corrupt diabolical members of THEM to dispatch, along with members of Hollywood to embarrass, Patrick pushes himself to his feet and sweat glistening on every inch of his body, he stands tall within the secret dependable training facility and with hands on hips he asks:
“What’s next?”
“Monsieur, perhaps you should be thinking about taking a break, we have been here for eleven hours, zis is a little too much, non?”
“A break? Does the Terror of THEM take a break, Cristophe?!”
“It probably sleeps, oui…”
“Sleep is for the weak! Sleeping will not help us find Destiny, will it Cristophe? Or does she not matter in all of this?”
“Patrick, stahp. Of course Destiny matters, she is one of us, she is a member of The Dependables in the making. But wearing yourself out is naht going to help find her, is it?”
“Monsieur, we are making great sacrifices for your training, non? Your father, he has lost out on THREE movies to Wayne “The Block” Johnstone in the last six months, and Chuck hasn’t had a single Chuck Taurus fact written about him in at least nine. People have moved on!”
“Chuck Taurus is not happy that Chuck Taurus facts have been replaced by Dom Teller facts… the audacity!”
At the mention of the half brother of a certain Supreme Championship Wrestling retired superstar, all five members of The Dependables turn to look in a fourth wall breaking moment of clarity, right at the ‘camera’, shooting ‘give me a break’ expressions like something right out of The Office, before going back to what they were doing.
“Ey yo, Sly Mallone has been so focused on helping train you to help get Destiny Page back that he can’t remember the last time he even said the words over here, over here. So you better forget about it if you think we don’t care!”
“Okay, okay, okay, point taken but dammit, we need to do SOMETHING!”
In an outburst of anger, Patrick turns and punches the wall behind him, his fist not only putting a dent in the plaster but punching bricks literally out the wall in an explosion of dust and plaster, leaving a considerable hole in his fists wake. Sunlight streaks into the room from the hole now created in the room, which seems to dazzle Sly slightly as he shields his eyes, but he doesn’t need to do so for long as the faces of two individuals appear, blocking the sunlight as they peer inside…
The two masked lucha’s look around at the members of The Dependables, before looking at one another. El Grande Venti nods his head towards the inside of the room, and Grande nods in agreement before both turn back to look into the room.
“¿Café?”
As if by magic, the two Lucha’s both hold up cup holders, filled with disposable coffee cups, featuring their own coffee branding. The members of The Dependables look at each other and seem hesitent, before turning to look at the Lucha’s, all shaking their heads. The Lucha’s look at each other again, and once again both nod before turning back to the room.
“¿Gratis?”
This seems to make a difference and Sly, Von Doome and Chuck all walk over to the whole in the wall, suddenly far more interested in the offer. They take the cup holders from the Lucha’s before muttering their thanks. Sly offers cups to both Arnold and Patrick, but Patrick waves him away. The big man however, takes one happily.
“Enjoy! Adios!”
“Au revoir! I mean, uh... adios?”
And with that, the Lucha’s are gone, leaving only the hole in the wall again, sunlight once again streaming into the room. Rolling his eyes, Patrick turns away from the hole, as Sly can be seen trying to drag a large cabinet from several feet away, obviously wanting to cover up the evidence of Patrick’s displeasure. The cabinet screeches worse a Selina Frost promo and everyone is thankful when the hole is covered.
“This is pretty good coffee, non?”
“Ey yo, it ain’t the worse cup of Joe I’ve had over here, I gotta say.”
“Chuck Taurus likes the price.”
“Monsieur, we are in agreement, oui.”
Ignoring the conversation between the others, Arnold turns to his son, concern etched across the Big Austrian’s face.
“Patrick, we will save Destiny, you hahve my word.”
Patrick starts to pace, clearly full of anxious energy as he grinds his hands into one another. Eventually coming to a stop, he cracks his knuckles before turning to his father, fire lit behind his eyes.
“Then we better make damn sure I’m ready for when we do, Pops. Because when I get my hands on THEM, they’re going to wish they were called SOMEBODY ELSE!”
“Yes! Your first one liner Patrick! I ahm such a proud father right now!”
“Ey Yo, way to go over here, kid!”
“Monsieur, congratulations!”
“Chuck Taurus is impressed. Very impressed.”
With a roll of the eyes, Patrick ignores the fanfare and walks to the weight area, leaving the four members of The Dependables to stand there watching as he begins to deadlight a weight heavier than that of two Greg Cherry’s combined. A true feat indeed.
“Monsieur, what have we created…”
“Ey yo, a monster over here, clearly…”
“Boys, whaht we hahve here isn’t a monster… whaht we hahve here is a BEAST. He is ready, my boy is finally ready. And THEM do naht stand a chahnce!”
“Chuck Taurus has nothing to add. Chuck Taurus has things added to him. Wait.”
As the other action stars snigger between themselves, Arnold can only watch on as his son continues to impress him, pumping iron in a way that Arnold himself would have been proud of in his bodybuilding days. The determination, the refusal to give up, the dedication, it takes everything Arnold has not to cry in pride as Patrick goes through his reps, grunting with each lift and yelling out each time he drops the weights again. THEM had better not try and stand in his way, and the Hollywood brothers had better be ready for what is coming too. Because the rescue of Destiny Page? That is HIS destiny now. And nothing short of complete success is an option.
Our scene opens up first and foremost with an aerial view of the iconic and world famous Hollywood sign, a truly legendary and much celebrated symbol of an illustrious industry and also a golden generation in Americana. We then cut to the Hollywood walk of fame, a drone shot that zips along the row of stars, dodging tourists and passers by and star after star zooms by below. We then transition to outside of The TCL Chinese Theatre, another iconic location, a venue that has not only served as the location for numerous movie premieres, but has hosted the Academy awards on three separate occasions. Tourists mill around outside, posing for photos and buying various trinkets to memorialise their visit. And finally, we cut to a sound stage, The Dependables logo plastered across the backdrop as Arnold and Patrick Braunschweiger stand proudly in front of the camera.
“Halo there my friends… guess what?”
Arnold pauses, turning to look at his son, who rolls his eyes but gives the smallest of nods back to him. Grinning, Arnold turns back to the camera, which zooms in on him with perfect precision.
“I’M BACK!”
As the camera cuts to the wide shot, fireworks erupt from behind the set, a series of eruptions in red white and blue. Patrick, stoic and unmoved, simply grinds his palms together as Arnold enjoys the show until it reaches it’s final crescendo and silence falls over the room once more.
“Yes my friends, here I ahm, and as you know, I ahm not here alone. My son Patrick, my pride and joy, working alongside his Pops to take down the evils of THEM, who have undertaken possibly their most evil scheme yet, in the kidnahpping of SCW’s own Destiny Page!”
At the mention of Destiny’s name, Patrick cracks his fingers violently.
“But you can mahrk my words, my friends… The Dependables have never failed to rescue the girl and save the day, a Dependables moovee would naht be a Dependables moovee if the world wasn’t a better place as the end credits begin to roll, and unlike those superhero moovees, when those credits DO roll, the only thing you hahve to do is enjoy the kick ass rock music that is booming out of the speakers, because our stories do naht need extra titbits to keep you interested.
But this is not a moovee. The plight of Destiny Page and her whereabouts is naht a plot point or narrative device, it is real life, and a situation that we hahve to remedy!”
Patrick finally steps up next to his father, who graciously gives him the floor.
“I understand that you guys are probably watching this because you’re eagerly anticipating The Dependables versus Hollyweird… sorry, Hollywood… at Rise to Greatness in a few days’ time, and I definitely understand why you would be.
My father is one of the biggest movie stars on the face of the planet, and Arnold Braunschweiger returning is always going to bring about plenty of excitement—"
“Patrick stahp, there’s no need to brag.”
“I’m not bragging Pops, I’m stating a fact. Your back catalogue is responsible for some of the highest grosing returns in silver screen history, but this weekend is about far more than the flicks. It’s bigger than professional wrestling too, as much as I hate to say that.
It’s about one of our own that has fallen victim to those dastardly bastards in THEM, kidnapped because she chooses to fight for what is right, a free America and a free world! And unfortunately, while The Dependables were ready to track THEM down and ensure they paid for their crimes, we instead have to deal with a couple of Days of Our Lives dorks that think they’re A-Listers when the reality is that the only list they’re on is the shortlist for scooping the top prize at the Razzies this year!”
Arnold places a hand on his sons shoulder and Patrick concedes the floor.
“While my baby boy here wants to dismiss the work of our friends Chris and Ryan, I will leave him make the snide comments and the war of words and the he said she said drama.
I deal in one liners, not soliloquies, and far be it for me to tell anybody what to do… but my friends, I nee to make it clear that whaht these young up and comers need to realise is that experience is more than just age, but also proof thaht they know whaht they ahre doing.
There is a REASON that The Dependables hahve maintained the career that we hahve, and that is the fact that we succeed where others fail, we overcome hurdles that others fall at. In short. We are the stars, because we deliver at the box office consistently, without fail!”
On the backdrop, not at all ripped off from the Matrix franchise, a series of numbers begin to rain down from the air, though it isn’t a series of one’s and zero’s, but the box office take from the entire catalogue of not only Arnold’s movies, but the entire Dependables team. Hopefully the Wachowski’s don’t file a lawsuit, as Arnold is a big fan of their work.
“Boys, allow me to break some bad news for you… as much as you may believe we do, we do NOT need you. In fact, at EVERY step of the way, the two of you have got in our way and done little but DERAIL us in the task of rescuing Destiny from the evil clutches of THEM!
While we have done all we can to ensure the safety of SCW’s premier backstage talent, you have caused us headache after headache after headache on Breakdown since we turned up to save the day! If we wanted a headache, we would listen to a Stacy Kissinger album!
Whether you like it or not, we have been ahead of you every step of the way, but while we attempt to strike at the heart of the most evil organisation on the face of the planet that isn’t named the Republican party, the pair of you clamour to catch up and somehow manage to make a mess of things time and time again!”
“And while I find it honourable thaht you wish to find Destiny as much as we do, the fact remains thaht you lack the means, the resources and the skill to ensure her safe return! Something proven by the fact thaht you hahve baulked at every opportunity to make a DAMN bit of difference whenever THEM have turned up on tv!”
The jovial nature of Arnold disappears now as he takes a step closer to the camera and points a finger directly at the lens.
“Everything is a game to you, isn’t it boys? You’re blasé attitude to this entire situation in recent weeks is shameful, your spine is lacking and your balls hahve been proven to be non-existent, if your recent actions are anything to go by. And instead of standing back to learn something, to see how professionals deal with their work, you stick your noses in places they don’t belong! Well I ahm telling you now boys, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!
The Dependables did naht get to where they are by wallowing in self pity or pissing and moaning to any reporter that stands in front of us with a microphone in hand like we’re desperate for the publicity.
You think all publicity is good publicity? WRONG!
This has too end. It has to STAHP. At Rise To Greatness, our narratives cease to intertwine and the franchises go their own way, our story heading to the culmination of this story, with Destiny being returned, while you can ride off into the sunset to search out a new adventure, but listen carefully Chris, Ryan… you can consider this a deevorce, because while WE are the biggest draw in Hollywood, at Rise To Greatness, we END Hollywood’s involvement in this particular tale.
In Cohen The Barbarian, my character Cohen is asked an immortal question: what is best in life. And his answer?
‘To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.’
At Rise to Greatness, for one night, YOU are our enemies. Because you stop us from getting our hands on our REAL enemies, time after time. Night after night. You delay us, derail us, hamper us frahm doing what we should have been allowed to do from the START… rescue Destiny, and ensure she has the successful acting career that only WE can give her!”
Walking to his father, Patrick puts an arm around his shoulder and pats it gently, in a comforting way.
“It’s okay Pops, let off some steam, I’ll handle this from here.”
Arnold nods and takes a step back.
“Chris. Ryan. I know that right now, we are technically stepping into your world, inside of the squared circle.
My father, great as he has been in the ring, his first love is the movie business and it always will be. And until recently, few even knew who I was and I suspect that you probably thinks that gives you the edge this weekend. Maybe it does.
But do you have any idea how many training montages I have taken part in over the last year, since I made the choice to dedicate myself to professional wrestling? I have climbed more mountains than you can count, chased more chickens than Colonnal Sanders can pluch fry and serve. I’ve run up flights of steps in EVERY major city in North America and jumped on the spot with my arms raised in celebration atop of every last one of them!
I don’t just have one Hollywood icon behind my training; I have FOUR of them. A number twice the size of your IQ and two more braincells than the pair of you have to rub together on a good day! This Sunday… if it bleeds, then we can kill it. Kill your hopes of victory, kill your opportunity to ruin yet another opportunity to stop THEM and track down Destiny, and kill your dream of embarrassing The Dependables.
It's the final act gents… we’re about to wrap the entire production and the only thing left is to sign off with that snappy one liner that only a true action star can deliver. And as each and every single movie buff knows, my Pops is the KING of one liners, so to quote his hit movie ‘Final Adventure Hero’…”
Arnold steps up and glares directly down the lens of the camera, quirking a brow as he cocks his head to one side, and…
“No sequel for you!”
And with that, father and son stand side by side, striking a truly heroic pose together in front of the camera, waiting for the scene to fade. Only it doesn’t, and the pair begin to wonder what on earth is going on.
And then, out of nowhere, masked luchadores El Lucho Grande and El Lucho Venti rush the set, Venti carrying a clapper board in his hands, which he holds up to the camera with great excitement, clapping the board with a snap that echoes around the sound stage, with both brothers yelling out in unison.
“CUT!”/“CUT!”
The pair then turn and run away before either Braunschweiger can react and the two Austrian’s watch as the ‘Mexicans’ run away at speed, glaring after them before finally beginning to laugh and the scene finally fades to black.
