Post by gzavadak on Sept 26, 2013 22:19:40 GMT -5
Ever since he first stepped into a professional wrestling ring in 2008, the Reverend Jerry Matthews had always had to deal with any number of lecherous personalities. Whether it was against alcoholic womanizers like “Tantalyzing” Tommy Young, “The Golden Boy” Dan Stein, and EXODUS Pro International Johnny Cannon, or media whores like “The Paparazzi Princess” Madison Chase and the author of the Book of Harmony, Justin Harmony, or those who chose to sleep with members of the same sex and those who supported them like Rachel Robinson, Aurora Rose and Joshua Curtis, the number of sinners he had encountered was seemingly endless. Of course, some of the battles turned out far better than others, and many of these heathens were at least made to contemplate the wisdom of the choices they had made in the past. But, now, he faced a foe like no other that he had before in “The Aussie Psycho” Curtis Wilkes.
While the good Reverend’s victories were numerous, none of his opponents had clung so tightly to their ideals as Wilkes had when he came out two weeks ago on Saturday Night Rapture and actually had the nerve to demand an apology from a man who was similarly steadfast in his beliefs. But, rest assured, one of the members of the Elite learned exactly what happens when you demand an apology from a fanatic in the form of a spine that was rendered little more than a twisted wreck following a chair shot from Deacon Jeremiah and PCW’s resident preacher’s patented flying headbutt. Yet, in what was hardly a surprise, Wilkes fired another verbal cannonade in this fiery, ongoing conflict.
When Jerry Matthews had initially called out Curtis Wilkes a month ago to get in line for what he felt he was entitled to, a shot at the PCW World Heavyweight title, he knew that it would be no easy task. Because unlike a vast majority of the names listed above, Curtis was more than capable of bringing it in the ring. A former World Champion, and an active PCW Hall of Famer. Clearly, this was a matter that would demand all of the Jerry’s attention until it finally came to a head.
However, not everything always goes according to plan. Distractions can take many forms, and a familiar face from his past was ready to once again reappear to push her own agenda onto the holy man. And with a tag match against both members of the Elite so close on the horizon, her timing couldn’t have been worse for the Reverend.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As hard as it may be to believe for some, there had been a time when the Reverend Jerry Matthews and his now estranged ex-wife Felicia had been quite the happy couple. Shortly after the death of his father, the young Matthews had found himself without a home. Still in high school, there was no possible avenue that the young man could find to keep up with the mortgage, utilities and the rest of the bills.
Despite this unfortunate turn of events, Jerry had done the best job he could’ve to put up a normal appearance. But, try as he could, he could never summon the mental strength to keep everything bottled up. It didn’t help that he had nothing that could even faintly resemble a support structure. His father had been an only child, and both of the elder Matthews’s parents had passed away long ago. And his mother’s family had made increasingly fewer appearances ever since his mother had passed away three years prior, succumbing to a long bout with leukemia. While they did make a token appearance at Angelo’s funeral, they had little to no interest in making sure that young Jerry was taken care of. Perhaps it had been because they disapproved of her choice in a marital match. After all, Angelo was nothing more than a poor schmuck who labored away in a coal mine for chump change.
The first few months following his father’s funeral had been the worst. He took to sleeping in whichever shelter would take him on that given night, relegated to the alleys of Birmingham when there were no such vacancies to be found. All of his possessions were confined to a single, battered suitcase his father had used whenever he could get time away to take the family on vacation. This was no way for anyone to live, especially a 16-year-old.
He made it to school whenever he could, but his attendance was hardly consistent and his grades began to suffer as a result. The young teenager had begun to wonder whether he could make it through the plight that was placed in front of him, going so far as to contemplate ending it all. After all, who would’ve even noticed his disappearance? With every passing day, his mood grew increasingly darker. He found himself unable to take solace in anything that he had previously enjoyed. There was no end in sight.
That is, until that one fateful day. For whatever reason, Jerry had summoned the strength and wherewithal to make it to classes that day. He sat in the far back corner of the classroom, struggling to pay attention to any of the subject matter. But, a knock at the door came that captured his attention.
And, in she walked. Felicia Davis was new to Birmingham, her family having just moved into the city as her father had just taken a new executive position with contracting firm Brasfield and Gorrie. She was wearing a bright white sundress that day, leaving her youthful and curvaceous figure on full display. The teacher had introduced her to the class as a new student, and after initial pleasantries were exchanged, she was told to find a seat. Given that Jerry was rather oblivious to his surroundings at that moment, he hadn’t even noticed that the only empty desk left in the classroom was to his immediate right. The young brunette took that seat, and thus started the path that helped shape Jerry into the man he would become.
Quickly, Jerry began to take notice of his new classmate. It seemed that he might’ve finally found something capable of taking his attention away from the all of the grief he had been working so hard to repress. He couldn’t help but think of her on any given occasion, but there was one problem: he found himself utterly incapable of finding the nerve to say a single word to her. Even a simple ‘hello’ seemed to be ever the monumental of tasks. Plus, what business would a girl like her, someone from the upper class, have talking with a homeless schlub like himself.
Thus, there weren’t words capable of quantifying the shock he experienced when, out of the corner of his eye, she flashed him a smile as the bell rang signaling the end of class. He found himself too busy wondering if he was seeing things to say anything to her yet again as she sauntered up the aisle and exited the classroom. Surely, he thought, he must’ve been losing his mind. And he disregarded the incident. But then, the next day, she repeated the same gesture. Jerry had noticed the second smile, and walking home that day, he finally came to the conclusion that he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least greet her the next day.
The next day came, and finally, Jerry finally had his first conversation with the girl that would eventually walk the aisle and become Mrs. Matthews. The more they talked, the greater his infatuation became. She possessed a very sharp wit, and had all kinds of jokes. It wasn’t long before he found himself taking her out on a Friday night for a pizza. Unfortunately, he had neglected one big flaw in his plans for courtship: when, if ever, would a proper time come to tell her the truth about his situation. About the tragic murder of his father, his constant struggle to find food to eat and a place to lay his head. Undoubtedly, to him, such a harsh reality would be something that her poor mind could never hope to comprehend. She would run screaming home, tell her father of the homeless vagrant she sat next to in class, and would never speak to him again.
After unofficially dating for three or four months, Jerry finally let it fly. The young couple took a long walk to the cemetery, and Jerry had shown her his father’s final resting place. He told her the grisly sight that he had witnessed, his father lying in a growing crimson pool while his murderer took what little money he found in Angelo’s wallet, and how he was only scared off when Jerry came running from the kitchen wielding a butcher knife. And, of how he had no one he could count on, aside from her. That was the moment he chose to confess his love for her, and that she deserved to know every hard truth he had experienced over the past year.
Unbeknownst to Jerry, Felicia was fully capable of surprises. Once he had wrapped up his tragic tale, she immediately grabbed onto him in a passionate embrace. For the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, Matthews felt safe. In her arms, he was invincible, and nothing could hurt him. Given his newfound inner strength, he planted a peck on her cheek, and she returned the gesture.
Not only did she shower him with seemingly boundless love, but she went further. Jerry found himself meeting her father. While he was initially intimidated by the wealthy man who seemed to ooze professionalism, it didn’t take long to get into the man’s good graces. So much so, that when Felicia shared Jerry’s tale with him, the man offered the future Reverend his guest bedroom. Jerry couldn’t find the words to express his thanks, for no longer would he have to scrounge in trash cans for food scraps, or go days on end without a hot shower. And even with all that Felicia and her family had done for him, none of them really ever realized the foremost impact they had on young Jerry. They had served to restore his faith in his fellow man. And, to him, that was the greatest gift he’d ever been given.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene opens to the pastoral offices of Birmingham First Baptist Church. The curtains are drawn open and the blinds pulled up, revealing a picturesque Indian summer afternoon as the trees have begun to turn to the fiery oranges and reds that come with the time of year. But, instead of the office’s usual occupant, behind the desk is none other than Felicia Matthews-Davis. She has her feet kicked up on her ex-husband’s desk as she leans back heavily in his chair. She is rhythmically tapping her right hand on the desk, her fingernails emanating a constant clacking. She seems to be enjoying the view through the window, so much so that she doesn’t notice her ex walk into his office and immediately freeze up in anger at the sight of her. He greets her with obvious disgust.
Jerry Matthews: Felicia, just what do you think you’re doing?
Felicia snaps to attention and directs her gaze to the masked pastor.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: Easy, love. Just trying to comprehend what it’s like to spend the day in the shoes of the infamous Reverend Matthews.
Her tone does little to hide her thinly veiled sarcasm.
Jerry Matthews: Don’t tell me you’re still here to hound me about the alimony you’re rightly “entitled” too. Like I told you before, that ship has sailed.
Felicia hardly seems thrilled at the good Reverend’s most recent snub of the County Court’s holding.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: You insolent son of a bitch. I’ve given you opportunity after opportunity to rectify how you’ve wronged me. The next time you see me, I’ll be with my attorney. I plan on taking you for all you have, and when I’m finished chewing you up and spitting you out, you’ll be lucky if any other church in this country would be foolish enough to hire you.
The preacher man is silent for a few moments as he heavily contemplates his former lover’s threat. Needless to say, his response surprises her.
Jerry Matthews: Go ahead, hon. I know your father will make sure that you get a top-flight attorney, and that nothing short of my surrender to your demands will satisfy you. But, if you’re dumb enough to think for even one second that I’ll allow you to intimidate me, I truly do feel sorry for you.
Rather than shooting more of her venom at him, she simply raises from her seat behind the desk and passes by her ex-husband.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: I really hoped that this time you would at least contemplate being sensible. Nevertheless, expect to hear from my attorney within the next few weeks. Lawyer up, babe, you’re going to need it.
She goes for the office door, but before she can exit, Jerry asks her one last question.
Jerry Matthews: Felicia, where did it all go wrong? You can’t deny that we once had something special.
Felicia proceeds to reach for the door, but does provide an answer.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: If you really find yourself having to ask that question after all these years, Jerry, then you truly are dimmer than I thought. Undoubtedly, once I did love you with all of my heart, but that time is past, and you only have yourself to blame. Take care.
Felicia exits the office, leaving Matthews alone. Abruptly, he reaches for his computer and picks it up over his head. The computer visibly protests, as sparks fly as its various wires become disconnected from their respective outlets, but the rabid fanatic can’t be stopped. He hurls the computer through the window, as shards of glass scatter all over the floor. The camera focuses in on the good Reverend who is huffing and puffing heavily. All of the hairs on his arms are standing on end, and he begins to shake uncontrollably as the scene fades to black.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene opens to the backstage area of the Xcel Energy Center, ironically where Deacon Jeremiah had cut a promo just a few days before. Behind the same pulpit stands “The Evangelist” Jerry Matthews, wearing his usual white cotton suit and symbolic facial mask. He has a Bible open on the top of the pulpit, and he appears to be studying it very attentively until he looks up and notices the presence of the PCW camera crew.
Jerry Matthews: Greetings to all of you, my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. On this day, despite a rather unpleasant visit from the biggest Jezebel to ever walk this earth, my ministry continues to expand and experience unparalleled levels of success in Premium Championship Wrestling. To no one’s surprise, once again I proved how vast my superiority over Draven Logan Kennedy really is. It was a match that I requested to prove a point, and that was that I never needed the help of Deacon Jeremiah and Kai to bury Draven alive. That match was meant to further establish my laundry list of accomplishments when I held the Platinum Championship for over six months. Not that I needed to, because there is no way that the length of my reign or my number of defenses will ever be surpassed. Just as I prophesied after I defeated Draven at Struggle for Power III. Lord, I offer you thanks.
The good Reverend makes the sign of the cross over himself with his left arm.
Jerry Matthews: But, before I dismantled Draven and tore him limb from limb before yet another of his enemies made him aware of when his next downfall will occur, I targeted another certain PCW Hall of Famer and former PCW World Heavyweight Champion in “The Aussie Psycho” Curtis Wilkes. You see, I never had any intention of apologizing to Curtis when I walked down that aisle two weeks ago in Milwaukee. And that’s because there will never be a set of circumstances where a card carrying man of God like myself will ever bend the knee to the will of a godless, atheistic heathen like Wilkes. And, not only did the Deacon and I succeed in severely injuring his back, but we also dealt a healthy blow to his pride when he went into his eventual loss against Smith Jones at well below one hundred percent.
The preacher man begins to laugh to himself.
Jerry Matthews: Curtis, repeatedly and incessantly, you refer to yourself as one of the Elite, always feeling the need to substantiate your accomplishments by telling the fans and the rest of the locker room how much better you and Yoshiru Long are than all of them. But, unlike the rest of them, Curtis, I’ve been paying careful attention to your exploits of late. I’ve noticed how the losses have begun to pile up. How you managed to put Brytain Montgomery on the map this summer when she defeated you as a nameless rookie. How you lost to “The Lethal Latina” Danielle Lopez when you clashed in a non-title contest. And, more recently when Smith Jones managed to defeat both you and Yoshiru in consecutive weeks. To me, it seems that the once precious diamond that was the Elite is beginning to lose some of its famous luster.
“And yet, you refuse to recognize the ultimate cause for your recent failures. I have no doubt you still have the abilities that have earned your career so much recognition. But, despite these recent setbacks, you continue to cling to the obviously false notion that there is no God, that you alone are responsible for controlling your decisions and, ultimately, your fate. As I’ve proven time and time again against scores of opponents, this couldn’t be further from the case. Why else would I have had so much success in my year plus in PCW? It is because I have more than earned my place in the Lord’s favor, I serve as an officer in his earthly army in the war on sin and sinners alike unquestioningly. And I have been rewarded accordingly.”
“And, now, I can’t help but salivate at my latest reward. The chance to make a statement to the entire PCW roster, and to PCW management that I more than deserve what my resume rightly entitles me to, and that is a shot at the PCW World Heavyweight Championship. A chance to show that the time of PCW’s old guard is fast coming to an end. To show that godless atheists have no business make delusional claims of greatness any longer. Curtis, Yoshiru, say your prayers, because in St. Paul, a duo shrouded in the divine armor of the Lord will be across the ring and from both of you. Allow yourselves to come to the realization that you have never faced an opponent like me, the Reverend Jerry Matthews. I’m not Mariano Fernandez. I’m not Israel Steele. I’m not Draven Logan Kennedy. And I’m not Danielle Lopez or James Baker. I am the good Reverend, the man who will roll over both of you with all the force of a steamroller, and show you what it means to mess with the One Most High and Almighty. The Word of the Lord, Thanks Be to God.”
With that, “The Evangelist” picks up his Bible and closes it. He then makes the sign of the cross over him once again, and bows his head for a moment of prayer as the scene slowly fades to black.
While the good Reverend’s victories were numerous, none of his opponents had clung so tightly to their ideals as Wilkes had when he came out two weeks ago on Saturday Night Rapture and actually had the nerve to demand an apology from a man who was similarly steadfast in his beliefs. But, rest assured, one of the members of the Elite learned exactly what happens when you demand an apology from a fanatic in the form of a spine that was rendered little more than a twisted wreck following a chair shot from Deacon Jeremiah and PCW’s resident preacher’s patented flying headbutt. Yet, in what was hardly a surprise, Wilkes fired another verbal cannonade in this fiery, ongoing conflict.
When Jerry Matthews had initially called out Curtis Wilkes a month ago to get in line for what he felt he was entitled to, a shot at the PCW World Heavyweight title, he knew that it would be no easy task. Because unlike a vast majority of the names listed above, Curtis was more than capable of bringing it in the ring. A former World Champion, and an active PCW Hall of Famer. Clearly, this was a matter that would demand all of the Jerry’s attention until it finally came to a head.
However, not everything always goes according to plan. Distractions can take many forms, and a familiar face from his past was ready to once again reappear to push her own agenda onto the holy man. And with a tag match against both members of the Elite so close on the horizon, her timing couldn’t have been worse for the Reverend.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As hard as it may be to believe for some, there had been a time when the Reverend Jerry Matthews and his now estranged ex-wife Felicia had been quite the happy couple. Shortly after the death of his father, the young Matthews had found himself without a home. Still in high school, there was no possible avenue that the young man could find to keep up with the mortgage, utilities and the rest of the bills.
Despite this unfortunate turn of events, Jerry had done the best job he could’ve to put up a normal appearance. But, try as he could, he could never summon the mental strength to keep everything bottled up. It didn’t help that he had nothing that could even faintly resemble a support structure. His father had been an only child, and both of the elder Matthews’s parents had passed away long ago. And his mother’s family had made increasingly fewer appearances ever since his mother had passed away three years prior, succumbing to a long bout with leukemia. While they did make a token appearance at Angelo’s funeral, they had little to no interest in making sure that young Jerry was taken care of. Perhaps it had been because they disapproved of her choice in a marital match. After all, Angelo was nothing more than a poor schmuck who labored away in a coal mine for chump change.
The first few months following his father’s funeral had been the worst. He took to sleeping in whichever shelter would take him on that given night, relegated to the alleys of Birmingham when there were no such vacancies to be found. All of his possessions were confined to a single, battered suitcase his father had used whenever he could get time away to take the family on vacation. This was no way for anyone to live, especially a 16-year-old.
He made it to school whenever he could, but his attendance was hardly consistent and his grades began to suffer as a result. The young teenager had begun to wonder whether he could make it through the plight that was placed in front of him, going so far as to contemplate ending it all. After all, who would’ve even noticed his disappearance? With every passing day, his mood grew increasingly darker. He found himself unable to take solace in anything that he had previously enjoyed. There was no end in sight.
That is, until that one fateful day. For whatever reason, Jerry had summoned the strength and wherewithal to make it to classes that day. He sat in the far back corner of the classroom, struggling to pay attention to any of the subject matter. But, a knock at the door came that captured his attention.
And, in she walked. Felicia Davis was new to Birmingham, her family having just moved into the city as her father had just taken a new executive position with contracting firm Brasfield and Gorrie. She was wearing a bright white sundress that day, leaving her youthful and curvaceous figure on full display. The teacher had introduced her to the class as a new student, and after initial pleasantries were exchanged, she was told to find a seat. Given that Jerry was rather oblivious to his surroundings at that moment, he hadn’t even noticed that the only empty desk left in the classroom was to his immediate right. The young brunette took that seat, and thus started the path that helped shape Jerry into the man he would become.
Quickly, Jerry began to take notice of his new classmate. It seemed that he might’ve finally found something capable of taking his attention away from the all of the grief he had been working so hard to repress. He couldn’t help but think of her on any given occasion, but there was one problem: he found himself utterly incapable of finding the nerve to say a single word to her. Even a simple ‘hello’ seemed to be ever the monumental of tasks. Plus, what business would a girl like her, someone from the upper class, have talking with a homeless schlub like himself.
Thus, there weren’t words capable of quantifying the shock he experienced when, out of the corner of his eye, she flashed him a smile as the bell rang signaling the end of class. He found himself too busy wondering if he was seeing things to say anything to her yet again as she sauntered up the aisle and exited the classroom. Surely, he thought, he must’ve been losing his mind. And he disregarded the incident. But then, the next day, she repeated the same gesture. Jerry had noticed the second smile, and walking home that day, he finally came to the conclusion that he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least greet her the next day.
The next day came, and finally, Jerry finally had his first conversation with the girl that would eventually walk the aisle and become Mrs. Matthews. The more they talked, the greater his infatuation became. She possessed a very sharp wit, and had all kinds of jokes. It wasn’t long before he found himself taking her out on a Friday night for a pizza. Unfortunately, he had neglected one big flaw in his plans for courtship: when, if ever, would a proper time come to tell her the truth about his situation. About the tragic murder of his father, his constant struggle to find food to eat and a place to lay his head. Undoubtedly, to him, such a harsh reality would be something that her poor mind could never hope to comprehend. She would run screaming home, tell her father of the homeless vagrant she sat next to in class, and would never speak to him again.
After unofficially dating for three or four months, Jerry finally let it fly. The young couple took a long walk to the cemetery, and Jerry had shown her his father’s final resting place. He told her the grisly sight that he had witnessed, his father lying in a growing crimson pool while his murderer took what little money he found in Angelo’s wallet, and how he was only scared off when Jerry came running from the kitchen wielding a butcher knife. And, of how he had no one he could count on, aside from her. That was the moment he chose to confess his love for her, and that she deserved to know every hard truth he had experienced over the past year.
Unbeknownst to Jerry, Felicia was fully capable of surprises. Once he had wrapped up his tragic tale, she immediately grabbed onto him in a passionate embrace. For the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, Matthews felt safe. In her arms, he was invincible, and nothing could hurt him. Given his newfound inner strength, he planted a peck on her cheek, and she returned the gesture.
Not only did she shower him with seemingly boundless love, but she went further. Jerry found himself meeting her father. While he was initially intimidated by the wealthy man who seemed to ooze professionalism, it didn’t take long to get into the man’s good graces. So much so, that when Felicia shared Jerry’s tale with him, the man offered the future Reverend his guest bedroom. Jerry couldn’t find the words to express his thanks, for no longer would he have to scrounge in trash cans for food scraps, or go days on end without a hot shower. And even with all that Felicia and her family had done for him, none of them really ever realized the foremost impact they had on young Jerry. They had served to restore his faith in his fellow man. And, to him, that was the greatest gift he’d ever been given.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene opens to the pastoral offices of Birmingham First Baptist Church. The curtains are drawn open and the blinds pulled up, revealing a picturesque Indian summer afternoon as the trees have begun to turn to the fiery oranges and reds that come with the time of year. But, instead of the office’s usual occupant, behind the desk is none other than Felicia Matthews-Davis. She has her feet kicked up on her ex-husband’s desk as she leans back heavily in his chair. She is rhythmically tapping her right hand on the desk, her fingernails emanating a constant clacking. She seems to be enjoying the view through the window, so much so that she doesn’t notice her ex walk into his office and immediately freeze up in anger at the sight of her. He greets her with obvious disgust.
Jerry Matthews: Felicia, just what do you think you’re doing?
Felicia snaps to attention and directs her gaze to the masked pastor.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: Easy, love. Just trying to comprehend what it’s like to spend the day in the shoes of the infamous Reverend Matthews.
Her tone does little to hide her thinly veiled sarcasm.
Jerry Matthews: Don’t tell me you’re still here to hound me about the alimony you’re rightly “entitled” too. Like I told you before, that ship has sailed.
Felicia hardly seems thrilled at the good Reverend’s most recent snub of the County Court’s holding.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: You insolent son of a bitch. I’ve given you opportunity after opportunity to rectify how you’ve wronged me. The next time you see me, I’ll be with my attorney. I plan on taking you for all you have, and when I’m finished chewing you up and spitting you out, you’ll be lucky if any other church in this country would be foolish enough to hire you.
The preacher man is silent for a few moments as he heavily contemplates his former lover’s threat. Needless to say, his response surprises her.
Jerry Matthews: Go ahead, hon. I know your father will make sure that you get a top-flight attorney, and that nothing short of my surrender to your demands will satisfy you. But, if you’re dumb enough to think for even one second that I’ll allow you to intimidate me, I truly do feel sorry for you.
Rather than shooting more of her venom at him, she simply raises from her seat behind the desk and passes by her ex-husband.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: I really hoped that this time you would at least contemplate being sensible. Nevertheless, expect to hear from my attorney within the next few weeks. Lawyer up, babe, you’re going to need it.
She goes for the office door, but before she can exit, Jerry asks her one last question.
Jerry Matthews: Felicia, where did it all go wrong? You can’t deny that we once had something special.
Felicia proceeds to reach for the door, but does provide an answer.
Felicia Matthews-Davis: If you really find yourself having to ask that question after all these years, Jerry, then you truly are dimmer than I thought. Undoubtedly, once I did love you with all of my heart, but that time is past, and you only have yourself to blame. Take care.
Felicia exits the office, leaving Matthews alone. Abruptly, he reaches for his computer and picks it up over his head. The computer visibly protests, as sparks fly as its various wires become disconnected from their respective outlets, but the rabid fanatic can’t be stopped. He hurls the computer through the window, as shards of glass scatter all over the floor. The camera focuses in on the good Reverend who is huffing and puffing heavily. All of the hairs on his arms are standing on end, and he begins to shake uncontrollably as the scene fades to black.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene opens to the backstage area of the Xcel Energy Center, ironically where Deacon Jeremiah had cut a promo just a few days before. Behind the same pulpit stands “The Evangelist” Jerry Matthews, wearing his usual white cotton suit and symbolic facial mask. He has a Bible open on the top of the pulpit, and he appears to be studying it very attentively until he looks up and notices the presence of the PCW camera crew.
Jerry Matthews: Greetings to all of you, my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. On this day, despite a rather unpleasant visit from the biggest Jezebel to ever walk this earth, my ministry continues to expand and experience unparalleled levels of success in Premium Championship Wrestling. To no one’s surprise, once again I proved how vast my superiority over Draven Logan Kennedy really is. It was a match that I requested to prove a point, and that was that I never needed the help of Deacon Jeremiah and Kai to bury Draven alive. That match was meant to further establish my laundry list of accomplishments when I held the Platinum Championship for over six months. Not that I needed to, because there is no way that the length of my reign or my number of defenses will ever be surpassed. Just as I prophesied after I defeated Draven at Struggle for Power III. Lord, I offer you thanks.
The good Reverend makes the sign of the cross over himself with his left arm.
Jerry Matthews: But, before I dismantled Draven and tore him limb from limb before yet another of his enemies made him aware of when his next downfall will occur, I targeted another certain PCW Hall of Famer and former PCW World Heavyweight Champion in “The Aussie Psycho” Curtis Wilkes. You see, I never had any intention of apologizing to Curtis when I walked down that aisle two weeks ago in Milwaukee. And that’s because there will never be a set of circumstances where a card carrying man of God like myself will ever bend the knee to the will of a godless, atheistic heathen like Wilkes. And, not only did the Deacon and I succeed in severely injuring his back, but we also dealt a healthy blow to his pride when he went into his eventual loss against Smith Jones at well below one hundred percent.
The preacher man begins to laugh to himself.
Jerry Matthews: Curtis, repeatedly and incessantly, you refer to yourself as one of the Elite, always feeling the need to substantiate your accomplishments by telling the fans and the rest of the locker room how much better you and Yoshiru Long are than all of them. But, unlike the rest of them, Curtis, I’ve been paying careful attention to your exploits of late. I’ve noticed how the losses have begun to pile up. How you managed to put Brytain Montgomery on the map this summer when she defeated you as a nameless rookie. How you lost to “The Lethal Latina” Danielle Lopez when you clashed in a non-title contest. And, more recently when Smith Jones managed to defeat both you and Yoshiru in consecutive weeks. To me, it seems that the once precious diamond that was the Elite is beginning to lose some of its famous luster.
“And yet, you refuse to recognize the ultimate cause for your recent failures. I have no doubt you still have the abilities that have earned your career so much recognition. But, despite these recent setbacks, you continue to cling to the obviously false notion that there is no God, that you alone are responsible for controlling your decisions and, ultimately, your fate. As I’ve proven time and time again against scores of opponents, this couldn’t be further from the case. Why else would I have had so much success in my year plus in PCW? It is because I have more than earned my place in the Lord’s favor, I serve as an officer in his earthly army in the war on sin and sinners alike unquestioningly. And I have been rewarded accordingly.”
“And, now, I can’t help but salivate at my latest reward. The chance to make a statement to the entire PCW roster, and to PCW management that I more than deserve what my resume rightly entitles me to, and that is a shot at the PCW World Heavyweight Championship. A chance to show that the time of PCW’s old guard is fast coming to an end. To show that godless atheists have no business make delusional claims of greatness any longer. Curtis, Yoshiru, say your prayers, because in St. Paul, a duo shrouded in the divine armor of the Lord will be across the ring and from both of you. Allow yourselves to come to the realization that you have never faced an opponent like me, the Reverend Jerry Matthews. I’m not Mariano Fernandez. I’m not Israel Steele. I’m not Draven Logan Kennedy. And I’m not Danielle Lopez or James Baker. I am the good Reverend, the man who will roll over both of you with all the force of a steamroller, and show you what it means to mess with the One Most High and Almighty. The Word of the Lord, Thanks Be to God.”
With that, “The Evangelist” picks up his Bible and closes it. He then makes the sign of the cross over him once again, and bows his head for a moment of prayer as the scene slowly fades to black.