Conefinement, Chuck Matthews Style.

Cameraman: “Chuck! How’s it going?”

Chuck looks at the camera and grins. Behind him, a guard unlocks the handcuffs and removes the chains that shackle him. Chuck rubs his wrists, where the cuffs were digging into his skin.

Chuck Matthews: “Alright. What’s going on?”

Cameraman: “I took the camera and decided to be the first man to capture Chuck after confinement. Feeling alright?”

Chuck Matthews: “Hungry as hell. Let’s grab some food.”

Cameraman: “Awesome.”

Twenty Minutes Later……

Cameraman: “So…How was the last 24 hours?”

Chuck Matthews: “Well, the first two were alright. Then it was boring as shit.”

Cameraman: “What happened?”

Chuck grins.

Chuck Matthews: “Crazy shit, man…”




A nightstick comes in contact with the back of Chuck's head. Chuck stumbles forward, his brain rattled.

Chuck Matthews: "Easy, guys. No need for such hostility!"

Guard: "Shoulda thought about that before ya speared me mate, aye?"

Chuck Matthews: "Hey. You guys come up to me with tasers and shit, yeah, I'm gonna be a bit nervous."

Guard: "We 'ave strict orders. Gotta get ya locked up."

Chuck Matthews: "I know that. We all got the announcement."

The guard and Chuck reach a heavy steel door. Slowly, the guard unlocks it and opens the door.

Guard: "Alright, in ya go."

Chuck bows his head slightly.

Chuck Matthews: "You wanna take the chains off?"

The guard groans, and reluctantly unlocks the handcuffs, tossing them into the room. He makes a motion to shove Chuck in.

Chuck Matthews: "Whoa, wait!"

The guard stops, and rolls his eyes.

Guard: "What?"

Chuck looks into the space behind the guard. He watches a young woman slip in the room behind the guard's back.

Chuck Matthews: "Forgot."

The guard sneers, and cracks the nightstick at Chuck's back again. Chuck stumbles into the room.

Guard: "See you tomarra, Chuck!"

The guard slams the door and walks off, laughing. Chuck is in total darkness.

Chuck Matthews: "You here?"

He hears a whisper right next to his ear.

Woman: "Hey."

Chuck jumps.

Chuck Matthews: "Christ! It's dark..."

Chuck waves his hand in front of his face. He can't make out the shape of his own hand.

Woman: "Chuck? Where are you?"

Chuck Matthews: "YOU CAN'T SEE ME!"

There's a long silence.

Chuck Matthews: "Sorry. I felt the sudden urge to say that. No idea why. I think O'Shea's down the hall."

Woman: "Whatever, Chuck."

Chuck Matthews: "You see my gym bag anywhere?"

Woman: "I don't see anything."

Chuck Matthews: "Wow, you’re a lot of fucking help. It‘s like asking Alison Williams how to spell Mercedes..."

Woman: “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

Chuck Matthews: “Obviously. The effort was obviously wasted on you. Now you want to help me or not?”

He hears the woman sigh. In a moment, He feels her right up against him.

Woman: "Oh! Here you are..."

Chuck shakes his head. He feels her hand on his cheek, her fingers rubbing his facial hair.

Woman: "What is...Oh, I think I know..."

She giggles. Chuck opens his mouth to respond. The woman runs her hand down Chuck's nose. Chuck hears her whisper to herself.

Woman: "I always heard he was bigger than this...We'll make it work..."

Chuck feels her hand start pulling at his face.

Chuck Matthews: "WHAT THE FUCK."

The woman screams.

Woman: "Was that..."

Chuck Matthews: "That was my nose, you dumb bitch!"

Chuck tries to shake his head clean of the memory of the handjob of the face. He focuses, instead, of trying to find his gym bag. Chuck shuffles around until he finds the bag. He digs through it quickly, until he finds what he's looking for.

Suddenly a dim light fills the room. Chuck holds his cell phone above his head, illuminating the small room.

Woman: "Are you supposed to have that?"

Chuck laughs.

Chuck Matthews: "No. But Australians aren't exactly known for their efficiency, you know. They never searched the bag."

The woman stares.

Woman: "I'm Australian!"

Chuck Matthews: "And you snuck into a dark room where you'll be trapped for 24 hours. My point exactly."

The woman's voice gets very seductive.

Woman: "You said over the phone you would get lonely. I hate to see a man with an ego as...."

The woman looks down Chuck's body.

Woman: "Big...as yours be all alone."

Chuck stares at her.

Chuck Matthews: "Oh...that's not creepy at all....."

Chuck stands up and takes a look around. The room is very small. In one corner, there's the toilet. Against the opposite wall is a mattress. That's it.

Chuck Matthews: "They sure know how to take care of us in NLWF."

Chuck slumps onto the mattress. A cloud of dust springs up. Chuck watches it disperse into the air. The woman lays down next to Chuck, resting her arm across his cheat. She whispers in his ear.

Woman: "Are you ready, Chuck?"

Chuck is too busy punching numbers into his phone to pay attention.

Woman: "I'll show you what 'down under' really means..."

Chuck hears the ring. Again. The woman unzips his pants.

Brenton Cyrus: "Hello?"

Chuck Matthews: "What's up, man! You'll never guess where I am!"

Brenton Cyrus: "Aren't you supposed to be in confinement?"

Chuck Matthews: ".....Fine. Lucky guess."

Chuck laughs.

Brenton Cyrus: "How are you calling me?"

Chuck Matthews: "With a phone. HA!"

Chuck breaks into more laughter. Cyrus apparently, is not amused.

Brenton Cyrus: "How did you get a phone? It's supposed to be solitary!"

Chuck Matthews: "It really wasn't hard. See, I put my phone in my gym bag. And they never bothered to search it. So...I'm here, talking to you."

Woman: "Who are you talking to?"

Chuck holds his hand over the receiver.

Chuck Matthews: "Cyrus. Shut up."

Woman: "Tell him I said hi!"

Chuck Matthews: "I don't even know your name!"

Woman: "Amanda."

Chuck shakes his head, and talks into the phone.

Chuck Matthews: "Amanda says hi."

Brenton Cyrus: "Who's Amanda?"

Chuck Matthews: "I don't know, but I don't think she's ever done this before..."

Amanda: "I heard that!"

On the other end, Cyrus laughs.

Brenton Cyrus: "You're crazy, Chuck."

There's silence for a moment.

Chuck Matthews: "So...what're you up to?"

Brenton Cyrus: "I was filming my One Moment to Remember documentry. Hold on one second."

Chuck hears voices at the other end, but can't distinguish them.

Brenton Cyrus: "Back."

Chuck Matthews: "Welcome back."

Amanda: "Wha wa he 'ooing?"

Chuck looks down at her.

Chuck Matthews: "I don't know how shit works in Australia, but in America, we don't talk with our mouths full."

Brenton laughs loudly.

Chuck Matthews: "Dumb bitch."

Brenton Cyrus: "Remind me to give you a trophy later."

Chuck laughs.

Brenton Cyrus: “I have a problem, man.”

Chuck Matthews: “What’s up?”

Brenton Cyrus: “Well…it’s like this. I’m here with Alison while Aaron’s in confinement. And…Man, I want to have sex with her. But I don’t know. It’s Aaron’s girlfriend, you know?”

Chuck Matthews: “Whoa. Stop. Rule number one. What happens outside of America stays outside of America. We’re in Australia, bro. It’s not cheating here.”

Brenton Cyrus: “I don’t follow your logic.”

Chuck Matthews: “You don’t need to. Trust me, I know about all these little rules and tricks. Really, I- OUCH!”

Chuck kicks Amanda in the head, as she has just bitten on his dick.

Chuck Matthews: “That’s not sexy, that just hurts!”

Brenton Cyrus: “What the fuck?”

Chuck Matthews: “Dumb whore bit me. Sorry. Anyway…It’s not cheating in Australia. In fact, it’s not cheating anywhere outside the US. So you’re safe for the rest of the month!”

Brenton Cyrus: "Whatever you say…Well hey, I gotta get working on this documentary, man. I guess I'll talk to you later. It was nice talking to you bro."

Chuck Matthews: "Damn...Alright. See ya man."

Chuck hangs up, and rests the phone by the mattress. The light goes out, and the room is thrown into total darkness again. He looks down at Amanda, who's still going to work.

Chuck Matthews: "Seriously. Have you ever done this before?"

Amanda: "Of course I have! They say I'm really good, too."

It suddenly dawns on Chuck why he's never seen any Australian porn flicks.

Ten Minutes Later...

The room is alive with the sounds of panting, moaning, and chains rattling.

Amanda: "Do you hear that?"

Chuck pulls out for a minute, and listens.

Chuck Matthews: "Yeah....What is that?"

Amanda: "It's creepy."

Chuck shakes his head and covers his ears with his hands.

Chuck Matthews: "It's horrible! What the fuck!"

The sound gets louder and louder, until it might as well be coming from the next room over.

"I divorced that crazy bitch call me Kevin Federline
Its obvious that he'll be confident till the death of him
The ground shall break I shall bury him, bury him
I know one day, they gotta bury him
but I lock my casket tight baby, so I dont let the devil in.
People its just me and myself, yeah bitch, Im goin loose cannon.
you can get to fuckin Led Zepelin

Niggas is bitches, bitches, I think they full of estrogen
and we hold court take your life out of settlement
Yes Im the best, and no I aint positive, Im definite
I know Confidence cause I invented it
This is James Shark, James Motherfuckin Shark, the new testament
And Im God and this is what I bless them with

Bitch Im me, Im me, Im me, Im me, Im me
Baby, so who you?, your not me, your not me
and I know that aint fair, but I dont care
Im a mothafuckin confident millionaire
I know that aint fair, but I dont care”

Amanda: “Is he…singing?”

Chuck Matthews: “I think so…”

Amanda: “It’s horrible!”

Chuck Matthews: “I know!”

Amanda: “Who is that?”

Chuck Matthews: “I think it’s Shark…”

There is a short silence.

Amanda: “Don’t you fight him Sunday?”

Chuck Matthews: “Yeah.”

Amanda: “Are you nervous?”

Chuck Matthews: “Nah. I stand by what I said before. James Shark is just irritating. He called me a ‘horny bastard,’ as if it was some big deal. But…isn’t that obvious? I mean, when you’re a Sex Icon, you kinda need to be ready for it at any time. Just because he can’t get it up…”

Amanda laughs. She gets on top of Chuck, and they pick up where they left off before they were so rudely interrupted by Shark’s song.

In the Guard Post…

One of the guards walks in to the monitoring room. Security footage is rolling in each of the cells, to ensure nothing happens to the wrestlers and that they don’t try and escape. At a chair in front of all the screens is a second guard, who doesn’t realize he now has company.

Guard 1: “What’re ya doing?”

The second guard quickly pulls his hand out of his pants.

Guard 2: “Nothing! I was…uh…Keeping an eye on the screens, as ordered.”

The first guard catches sight of the footage from Chuck’s room. The green light of the night vision camera shows Chuck and a young Australian woman fucking on the small mattress.

Guard 1: “How did she get in there?”

Guard 2: “Who cares? It’s great to watch.”

Guard 1: “You’re disgusting.”

The second guard shakes his head.

Guard 2: “Naw, mate. THIS is disgusting.”

The guard hit’s a button, which pulls up the view of Aaron’s room. Aaron is laying on the mattress, looking at a magazine.

Guard 1: “Is he…?”

Guard 2: “Yeah.”

Guard 1: “What the fuck is wrong with these guys?”

Back in Chuck’s Room…

Amanda and Chuck are lying, naked, on the mattress. Amanda rests her arm and head on Chuck’s chest.

Amanda: “You’re my favorite to win.”

Chuck Matthews: “Yeah…I get that a lot.”

Amanda: “You aren’t worried at all?”

Chuck Matthews: “Why would I be?”

Amanda: “Nine other guys in the match? Sounds tough.”

Chuck Matthews: “It’s no problem.”

Amanda: “Well, that’s a lot of people. Plus, Frank Hart’s in the match-”

Chuck Matthews: “You don’t think I can win, do you?”

Amanda: “Of course I do! I’m just saying…”

Chuck gets up and pulls his pants on.

Amanda: “Oh, come on, Chuck, don’t do this. I was just pointing out the facts.”

Chuck Matthews: “You can go now.”

Amanda gets up. Without warning, Chuck begins pounding on the cell door.

Chuck Matthews: “THERE’S SOMEONE IN HERE!!!”

The door flies open, flooding the room with light. Chuck rubs his eyes. He hears a thud, and the woman scream. She’s been smacked with a nightstick.

Amanda: “I hate you, Chuck Matthews! I hope you lose on Sunday!”

The guards smack her again, and shove her out of the room.

Chuck Matthews: “Wait!”

The guards stop for a moment. Amanda slowly gets to her feet. She throws a punch at Chuck as he comes near, but misses entirely. Chuck grabs her face. Fear washes over her. Chuck suddenly smiles.

Chuck Matthews: “See you after the show, Amanda.”

He winks, then kisses her, leaving her shocked and disgusted. As he is about to turn away, Amanda does the unthinkable. Her hand shoots out, and grabs hold.

Chuck Matthews: “Whoa!”

She squeezes, and Chuck keels over. A loud crack is heard as a nightstick beats her over the head, and she lets go. Chuck cradles his injured balls as he hobbles back into the room. He catches sight of Amanda’s clothes as the door swings shut, leaving him, once again, in darkness. Chuck takes a seat.

Chuck Matthews: “I’m bored.”

As if on cue, his phone rings. Chuck looks at the caller ID. He doesn’t even bother to pick up.

Chuck Matthews: “Fuck that, I’m not talking to Rick Christian.”

Thirty seconds later, the tone sounds, signaling that Chuck has a new voicemail.

Chuck Matthews: “Stupid Rick.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chuck and the Cameraman laugh.

Cameraman: “That’s the Sex Icon at his finest, Ladies and Gentlemen. Even when he’s supposed to be alone, He gets more pussy than you.”

Chuck Matthews: “Oh, the story wasn’t over.”

Cameraman: “What else happened?”

Chuck pulls a tape recorder from his back pocket.

Cameraman: “What’s up with…”

Chuck holds his hand up.

Chuck Matthews: “I decided to do a little bit of reflecting. Take a listen.”

Chuck hits ‘play’ on the tape recorder. His voice comes through the small speaker.

Chuck Matthews Recording: “So here I am in confinement. First few hours went by great. Got some sex in. Watched a woman get beat. Talked to my buddy Brenton. Ignored a call from Rick. Good day so far. I’ve been thinking about the match. Nine guys, in the ring with me, all for the Universal Title.

Mexican Samurai, Kristofer Kaos, Demetrius Randall…All great competitors, yes…But all are men I see as no real threat. I’ve beaten Kaos before, and I truly think I’ll have no problem doing it again. Mexican Samurai…Nothing but a leech. He’s been Universal champion twice. Yes, twice. Does anyone remember the first time? No. Why? Because he was the most unconvincing champion since Tails won the World Heavyweight championship. Hell, Samurai said it himself. He had that title on a fluke. Nobody, not even himself, saw him as a real champion. The second reign? Let’s be honest. Mexican Samurai won the title the same way he claims I reached all my success: Riding the coattail of Brenton Cyrus. Finally, there’s Demetrius Randall. A great competitor in his own right. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely earned his spot when he won the title at Simple Survival. But remember how he got that opportunity. Chance. Pure dumb luck. I disappeared, I missed my shot, and he took it. Simple Survival was supposed to be MY night. It was MY show. MY title. And it was stolen from me! Not this time. Fuck you, Demetrius Randall. Get the fuck out of the way. I’m not giving you my spot just yet.

Jamean Jaxon. He seems like a good guy. I believe I’ve said that before. I respect him. Why? Because he knows when he’s in over his head. He wants to make his mark, and he’s going about it the right way. He realizes he isn’t going to win. All he wants is to make a lasting impression. Show everyone that he can roll with the big boys. He doesn’t get a big head. He doesn’t go on about how great he is. He comes in, says what he wants to do, gives himself a reasonable goal, and runs with it. Jamean, I know you’re going to get your ass kicked in this match. But at least you aren’t a bitch. Good on you.

James Shark. He’s like the Jamean Jaxon Anti-Christ. While Jaxon knows when he’s in over his head, Shark doesn’t shut the fuck up. EVER. Not only that, but he trashes everyone. Aaron, me, Jaxon, even brenton Cyrus. Does he realize Cyrus isn’t even in this match? James Shark is the ‘confident’ superstar. Confident this, confident that, I knocked this guy out, I can knock that guy out too. Chuck got lucky, Aaron doesn’t stand a chance, blah blah blah. Shark, you got talent. You know it. I know it. Everyone and their fucking dog knows it. The thing is, you aren’t good enough. You got the ego, now all you need is the skill to back it up. Until you do something worth noting, I suggest you shut the fuck up and watch as the real leaders of the locker room show you how its done.

Notorious K.I.D. At this point, I ask why you’re in the match. Then I remember. ‘Oh, he beat Delirium and took his spot.’ And that begs the question: ‘Why was Delirium even in the match to begin with?’ While some questions may never be answered, I can tell you: Delirium or KID, it isn’t going to get in my way. KID describes himself as a High-Flyer. A risk-taker. Isn’t this that skinny black dude that got his ass kicked by James Shark a while back? Somewhere down the line, he went white, and now he considers himself a contender? Sounds like somebody’s been riding the White Supremacy train a little too long. I have no doubt in my mind that he’s the future, and someday, he’ll have his time. But not now. This is Matthews’s Era. NLWF’s Sexual Revolution. Best of luck to Notorious KID in the Junior Heavyweight Title run. I picked him for a reason. I hope he doesn’t let me down.

Frank Hart. A man I’ve had nothing but respect for ever since we stole the show at Joe Santiago’s Hall of Fame Induction. Frank Hart vs. Chuck Matthews II…Eh. I had a lot to worry about…you know, like the fact that I never thought I would be wrestling again. Can you cut me some fucking slack? But fine, you won that too. So to Frank Hart, I’m 0-2. I get it. Frank Hart seems to have stalked me ever since, appearing and only making his name known when it means embarrassing me. It’s done. This is not Johnny Styles and Brenton Cyrus. It’s not some one-sided bullshit. You beat me twice. Take those wins and run with em. You’re in the same boat as Randall. You got your little niche in history at Simple Survival because you capitalized on my absence. Don’t bother bragging about it. You weren’t the only winner that night. Frank, I have nothing to say to you anymore. All I have going into this thing against you is the confidence that the third time will be the charm. The humiliation at the hands of Hart is over and done. Sunday, I break out of the slump, and show everyone that I’m back and I’m better than ever. Even good enough to beat you.

Death Angel. This is a match we’ve been dying to have. Sort of. I don’t think we ever dreamed the first time we met in the ring to be in a stack of three cages, with eight other guys, all fighting for the Universal Championship. Nevertheless, here we are. I hold the Global Annihilation Championship, a belt that Death-Angel held right before me. I won it against his little bitch, who was going to be in this match. But things didn’t work out. Death Angel has had some real nerve. See, after my little screw-up with Hazard, he had the audacity to tell me I was a failure. Isn’t that kind of calling the kettle black? You know what I think when I think of failure? I think of a man by the name of Shayne Wolf, surrendering his No Limit Title to a young stud named Chuck Matthews so he could go chase the Universal Title. Shayne won the title, and lost it in SEVEN DAYS. Meanwhile, Chuck went on to hold his title for a whopping 62 days. Ouch. You want to talk about failure, Death, look at Shayne Wolf. The man who made me a success, but couldn’t do it for himself. I bet you regret chasing that Universal title now, don’t you? Now that you’ve seen how much more I accomplished when you dropped me the No Limits title? That could’ve been you, Angel. But you threw it away.

You said I was an idiot for what I did as Hazard. Why? Because I threw away a title shot to do it? When you’re as powerful and as important to this federation as I am, you can get away with anything. Including sending yourself packing for a month. Did you notice? I threw away my chance a greatness, a chance most others would kill to have. You thought I was crazy. But as soon as I came back, what happened? I got that chance right back. You know why you thought I was stupid to do that? Because had it been you in my shoes, it would have been nothing short of career suicide. When was the last time you were a serious contender for a world title? Wargames? Get used to it Death. You will always be the biggest failure compared to me. Thank you, for making my career.

Aaron O’Shea. There aren’t a whole lot of people in the world that I hate. Hate is not a word I just throw around. When it comes to people I really don’t like? Or people I could definitely do without? You’re at the top of the list. Why? Because you have this idea that you’re some big deal. But what have you accomplished? You won the No Limit title from Swan Lee? Oh, that’s nice. Did you know I hold the record for longest No Limit title reign? You were awarded the tag team title by Brenton Cyrus. Congratulations, you’re in the same league as Jake Stunner and Death Angel. You won the Proving Grounds Title. Who remembers Proving Grounds? Nobody. So you went and changed the name to the ‘Rated R Title’ and began the ‘Rated R Era.’ Alright…That’s insanely boring. And I’m not the only one who thinks so! I just happen to have my phone on me…”

Chuck pauses the recording and takes his phone out of his pocket. He begins flipping through old texts. He finds a picture message someone sent to him a few weeks back.

Chuck Matthews: “Take a look at this…”



The cameraman laughs loudly, getting a good shot of the image. Chuck hits ‘play’ once again.

Chuck Matthews Recording: “You see, Aaron? You’re boring. You have a girlfriend that fucks everything that moves. Oh, by the way? I was the best. Aaron, you’re the kind of guy I look at and wonder ‘how do you live like that?’ Do you go to bed at night and convince yourself that you’re a success? You’re nothing. You always have been nothing, and as long as I’m here to beat you, you always will be nothing. So when we go on our World War Tour, we’ll be stopping in Dublin. You can crawl back to your pathetic existence before you came to NLWF, and I can continue my time in NLWF as the best. You know I’ve been giving you loads of nicknames, Aaron. Here’s one last name. Aaron O’Shea: Abortion Survivor.”

Chuck hit’s the ‘stop’ button, and slips the recorder into his pocket.

Cameraman: “Abortion Survivor! Brilliant!”

Chuck grins.

Chuck Matthews: “Thanks. I thought so too. I’m ready for this, man. I really am.”

Cameraman: “Sure as hell sounds like it. You know, I really have to ask you. I know this is your first real shot at the Universal title, but what’s your motivation? I mean…Why the sudden intensity? We didn’t see this last month…what’s going on?”

Chuck is silent for a moment as he thinks things over.

Chuck Matthews: “My big night was postponed a month. Simple Survival was my supposed to be it. That was supposed to be my night, my time to shine. It didn’t happen. So we come to this. But…you know what’s interesting? I like it better this way. What could be better to seal my spot in history than a match of this caliber, with this much on the line? Think about it. I will become Universal Champion. I will have the biggest moment of my career. I will defeat nine other men, including my greatest nemeses in Frank Hart, Aaron O’Shea, Mexican Samurai, and James Shark. I will win one of the most brutal matches in NLWF history. And I’ll do it all in one historic night, one historic match. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. It’s time I took what belongs to me. I’ve worked for nearly SEVEN MONTHS. Seven months for me to take the fucking spotlight, show everyone why I’m the best. I refuse to let has-beens like Hart and Kaos, or cocky little shits like Shark and O’Shea take my spot. I’m back for a reason: To win the Universal Title and cement my legacy. I’m on a mission. May God be with the man to get in my way.”

Cameraman: “That’s awesome. Well, listen, I gotta get going, but it was great talking to you, and I wish you the best of luck in your championship match.”

Chuck shakes the cameraman’s hand, and the shot slowly fades out.