The scene opens on a bustling, yet mostly empty arena. Stagehands mill about like worker ants struggling to get the hive suitable for the queen. A half constructed titantron sits at the top of a modest stage, almost ready to display memories that have yet to be made: History that has yet to be Created. Underneath all of that stands a young man. His face is chiseled - well defined for someone his age - and sculpted mostly by the beard that resides on it. His body is covered up with a black slash grey hoodie and a pair of worn in jeans...but you can see his brown eyes staring down at the workers putting together the ring for the upcoming event: the debut of IOPW's Gathering of the Order.
"Is it everything you dreamed it would be, Evan?" a handsome man in his mid forties asked the young kid with the brown eyes.
Evan took a moment to respond. He was still letting the reality of the situation sink in. The International Order of Professional Wrestling - a brand new wrestling federation - was about to hit THE MOST prime time TV. Evan Caliban, as he was known in the wrestling mythos, was excited to be a forerunner of the company.
All of it felt absolutely perfect.
The way he looked at it, anybody can be a PART of history...but to stand apart as a catalyst, a Creator of history, was something else entirely. A smile cracked upon Evan's handsome mug as the thought bounced around inside his cranium. He turned to the man who addressed him - Kyle Mathic, the Commissioner of IOPW - and answered his question.
"It's even more than I imagined", Evan replied with that same smile still plastered on his face.
"Then you're in for a real surprise when the money starts rollin' in, kiddo! Ticket sales, merchandise, action figures! I can already smell the money!" Kyle smiled mostly sincere, but you can tell there was a hint of subversive greed behind it.
Evan didn't care though. He knew that Kyle Mathic was part of the machine, and the machine was all about the money. Money was a unnecessary byproduct of what he did for a living. Sure, it was nice to eat every once in a while, but wrestling - to him at least - had never been about dollar signs. It had never been about fancy cars and houses. It was never about merchandise, action figures, and all that bullshit. To him, wrestling had always been about cementing his own legacy in this world. In Evan's mind, the only thing that was certain in your life was inevitable death: the rest of it was what you made of it.
As Evan was about to walk down the ramp towards the ring, a slender man in a suit with a bald patch on the tip of his noggin walked up to Mathic and got his attention with a pat on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, Mr. Mathic...we have Smith on the line. He's ready to talk."
Kyle arm pumped and his face contorted like he was about to shit a gold brick.
"YES! THAT'S FUCKING MONEY!" Mathic yelled, which garnered the attention of a few of the worker ants. They shook their heads, readjusted their hard hats, and went back to grinding.
"Evan!" Kyle said while pointing in Evan's direction "My man, I'll catch you later! We got some big game fishing to do...but I'll see you in a few days. Get ready for your debut kid! This is gonne be BIG!!!"
And with that, Kyle and the slender suit man turned to leave. Evan didn't even have time to wave before they were behind the tron and out of sight. Evan shrugged his shoulders, walked down the ramp, and stood next to the ring. He let his hand slide along the canvas, getting a feel for his new home. He hopped up on the apron and moved to step through the ropes -
"Heya! Ya might wanna watch out! It's not safe in there just yet!" one of the hardhats yelled at him.
"It never is..." Evan replied with a smile.
He stepped into the ring, and was instantly transported to a different world.
He was in front of thousands, all chanting his name:
"CAL-UH-BAN! CAL-UH-BAN! CAL-UH-BAN!" they cheered. Evan's chest roared as his hand was raised in victory for a match yet to be contested!
"HERE'S YOUR NEW IOPW WORLDS HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...EVAAAAN CAL-UUUUUUH-BAAAAAAAN!"
Evan stood in the ring, raising his hands up - to the beffudlement of the workers - taking in the moment as the scene fades to black.
Subject: "Creationist" 
Thu Apr 30, 2015 5:50 pm