NLWF's Sexual Revolution (Explanations III)

by Chuck Matthews July 18th 2009, 11:42 pm

The old couple ran a general store, and lived on the floor above. It was a nice setup. During the day, they would operate the store, selling little odds and ends to people passing through. On the floor above, they had the house. It was one floor, and just big enough to accommodate the man, his wife, and their granddaughter, Bridget.

Bridget...She was always a sweet girl. She was eighteen at the time. Two years older than Chuck. She was always there for him. For the few months it took him to recover, she sat by his bedside. She brought him food. She changed his bandages. They shared a room. At first, Bridget had given up her bed for Chuck to sleep in until he got better. Once Chuck recovered, and the family invited him to remain with them, they bought another bed, which they set up at the other end of the room. Bridget slept there from that point on. She always confided in Chuck. He never knew whether she meant to or not. When she had a problem, she would sit by Chuck's bed, and just talk. About life, about her problems, about everything. It didn't matter whether he was listening or not; in fact, more than one occasion, Chuck was sleeping when she came in, only to wake up mid-story, hearing about what happened to her that day. Chuck enjoyed it. He liked the attention she gave him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than to hear her voice, a foot away from him, whispering words of encouragement, or telling him "The scar's healing up just fine." He loved her.

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7 Years Ago........
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It was a year after the incident at Valeo Manor. Chuck had been fully healed for the last nine months. He could walk, run, work out...Everything a normal sixteen-year-old boy could do. The scar was there, as it would be for the rest of his life. Chuck usually hid it beneath the waistband of his pants. Now, he was with Bridget. For the past couple of months the two had been inseparable. Bridget and Chuck. Chuck and Bridget. Always. The relationship seemed sudden to her friends. One day, she brought him along on a trip with her friends. They didn't like him too much. He was "too young" to be hanging out with a bunch of high school seniors. Then, they felt replaced.

"Here comes Bridget! Oh...she's with that Matthews kid again..."

Chuck was still skinny. He had gotten much bigger over the past year, as lifting and helping around the store had built him up a bit. But compared to the athletic types Bridget usually hung out with, Chuck was always the smallest by a considerable amount. The guys of the group didn't like him. He didn't fit in with the football, the baseball, the basketball stars of the group.

Today, though, there were no friends. Bridget and Chuck were walking down the sidewalk, arm in arm. It was a nice day. Average. Partly cloudy skies. 70 degrees. Typical day. The two conversed deeply, in a conversation they obviously didn't want anyone else to hear, judging by their hushed voices.

Bridget: "I don't know, Chuck."

Chuck: "Oh, come on. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Bridget: "I don't know. Something just feels weird about the whole thing."

Chuck: "What did Melissa say?"

Bridget: "She thinks it's disgusting. But then again, we know how she thinks."

Chuck: "Figures. Dumb whore."

Bridget giggles and slaps Chuck's arm.

Bridget: "Chuck!"

Chuck laughs.

Chuck: "Seriously, though. Why not this time? What's wrong?"

Bridget: "I feel...I feel like soemthing's going wrong. Like we're always being watched, you know?"

Chuck: "You've been like that ever since I told you about my family. You're paranoid, Bridget. There's nothing to worry about. Trust me."

Bridget: "Chuck..."

Chuck: "And besides...you know you loved it anyway."

Bridget smiles sheepishly. She gets close, and whispers in Chuck's ear.

Bridget: "You think I loved it..."

Bridget kisses Chuck's cheek, and breaks away from him, walking on ahead, and looking over her shoulder. Chuck shakes his head.

Chuck: "Get back here."

She giggles, and runs off. Chuck breaks into a run, chasing her. Without warning, she cuts off the sidewalk, charging through the woods. Chuck follows, dodging branches and trees as he runs. He hears her laughing ahead, and follows her voice through the dense trees. Then he crashes. Chuck breaks out of the woods, onto their street. He smashes into Bridget, who has suddenly stopped. The two tumble to the ground. Bridget stands, trancelike, staring ahead. Chuck looks at what she is staring at.

Chuck: "Oh my god..."

The store and the house is ahead, but it doesn't look good. Smoke billows up from the building. The windows are blown out, and the shop looks charred, as if a bomb had gone off inside. Bridget and Chuck race towards the building. Chuck's stomach drops in his stomach as he runs, afraid of what he may find inside.

Chuck tries to open the front door of the shop. Even the combined efforts of Bridget and Chuck can't get it open. Chuck climbs cautiously through a broken window, Bridget close behind.

Bridget: "No..."

She points to the floor, where a trail of blood drops sits. Tears begin to fill her eyes as she runs upstairs. Chuck follows. They burst into the room of the older couple. Bridget screams, and immediately breaks into sobs. Both lie, dead. Bullet wounds and blood are scattered across both bodies. The man has his arm around his wife.

Chuck: "He was shot downstairs. He must've come up to be with her."

Bridget is crying. Chuck wraps his arm around her shoulder. He whispers to her.

Chuck: "We need to go. Call the police."

Bridget wipes her eyes.

Bridget: "You go, Chuck. I...I need a few more minutes. Please."

Chuck nods, and leaves the room, heading downstairs. A car screeches outside. Chuck looks out the window. Immediately, his gut wrenches in cold fury. James and Paul sit in a red convertible outside, grinning widely.

Chuck: "You did this..."

James laughs at Chuck's infuriated expression.

James Matthews: "It's all business, bro!"

Paul pulls a grenade from the car and pulls the pin.

Paul Matthews: "Uncle Frank sends his regards, Charlie!"

Chuck's eyes widen as Paul launches the grenade. Chuck watches it soar through the air and through the broken window. The tires squeal as James speeds off. A few clinks are heard as the grenade skitters across the floor in the store.

Chuck: "No..."

The explosion rocks the building. From inside, Bridget's scream pierces the air. Chuck stares at the building, his heart pounding loudly. Chuck slowly begins to relax, and steps toward the building to check the damage. Then a rumbling noise is heard, soft at first, then getting louder. The entire building crumbles.

Chuck: "BRIDGET!"

The top floor collapses into the first. Chuck drops to his knees, watching everything come crashing down.

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"Moving on to return match three. Five men, one winner. Among my opponents this week is one of my best friends, a man I can't stand, a man that bugs me, and a man I really don't have an opinion of.

Brenton Cyrus. We've had a lot of history. And I mean, a lot. We've been best friends, closer than brothers. Now, for the third time, we're opponents. Know who comes to mind right now? Frank Hart. Yeah, Frank Hart, the guy who was tag team champ for a day.

Hear me out. Frank and I have fought twice. And both times, I lost. Just like you. At New Era, we fought. I lost. At King of the Throne, we fought. I lost. The difference between you and Frank? Frank beat me one-on-one. Why is this relevant? Because whether it was a free-for-all match or not, I've still never been able to beat you. That changes on Sunday. Will I pin you? Doubtful. Will I win anyway? I sure as hell plan on it. Just like next week. Will I pin Frank Hart? Who cares? Will I win next week? I'll do everything in my power to do so.

Cyrus, you and I had one big altercation. One. Given, that altercation led to my leaving Salvation. What did you do? You went to Legacy andfound a friend in Mexican Samurai. Why? Of all the people you could've chosen to replace Chuck Matthews, you chose Samurai? And how did that go? Because last I checked, you two have been at each other's throats. You guys had a mild level of success...or, at least, you did, and Samurai sucked up the spotlight like a parasite. Let's face it, bud. Salvation was your greatest success. You'll never find anyone that can do the things I've done.

Speaking of failure teammates, let's move on to the man that just kind of bugs me. Mexican Samurai. Samurai, I don't have much to say to you right now. I have next week for that. I will call you the biggest god-damn hipocrite I've ever met. Why? Because you were the man that constantly accused me of "riding the coattails of Brenton Cyrus." Which, if you think about it...is all you've really done for the last month. You sat like a pedophile, watching Cyrus like he was an underage girl. And as soon as he was alone, you jumped on him and tried to rape his career by sucking on his success. Dumb, overrated piece of shit.

Shadow Demon? I didn't have any opinion of you before Direct Hit, and I don't have much more afterward. You beat me. Nice job. Now, like I said, shut me up, and win again next week. Maybe then I can take you seriously. Shadow Demon: The man who's lost more chances at the world title than anyone else in NLWF.

Then there's Aaron O'Shea. I really don't like you. Why? Because all you do is talk, and honestly, I'm getting really sick and tired of hearing your voice. You remember the last time you fought me? Not when you fought Hazard, that's another issue. I mean Chuck Matthews vs Aaron O'Shea. Remember that match? How did that end? Oh! That's right, I kicked your ass to Legacy. And where did you go from there? You called yourself Rated R and picked up some chick I used to fuck on Saturday nights. Now you're the No Limit champ. Fas Fact Aaron: I held that belt before you. Anyone else see a pattern here? Aaron O'Shea is just a trash collector for all my old shit. He sleeps with the old women I used to fuck, and now he holds the titles I already brought prestige to. Know what that means Aaron? It means you aren't gonna win next week. Why? Because I haven't won the Universal Title yet! Which means I haven't left any trash for you to pick up. Bummer. You're the man of a million nicknames? Here's one more. "Chuck's Trash Collector" Aaron O'Shea.

The next two weeks, I am a man on a mission. I've been overlooked. Out of my spotlight. I'm done. I'm taking my fucking spotlight back. I'm cementing my legacy. It's time for a new era in NLWF. The Matthews Era. Let NLWF's Sexual Revolution begin."