"Just Like Old Yeller"

Scene Number::001
Scene Location ::A Church
Status :: ON Camera

The scene opens up with something the WWE Universe isn't use to seeing. That being... a church. The windows were stained glass and depicted images of saintly figures and the miracles that were attached to their names. The faithful, true in heart believers, they would of known the names of those saints. They would not be strangers to those miracles that are now sculpted onto glass. Immortalized in the text that told their stories and in these windows... so long as nothing came along and shattered them. In a strange way, it was symbolic to think about how some prick with a rock in his hand could just come along and shatter these windows... one by one... how simply the beliefs of people can be purged from this world if you truly wished it. And this religion was no stranger to being both the persecuted and the persecutors at different times throughout history. Ironic, given how the man they worship claimed to be a promoter of peace, love, and goodwill towards men. He was the doorway, the only path that lead to 'The Father' as the script would have you believe.

Inside the church a warm light glowed; it was the flickering light of candles. Many, many candles so that the very light in the church pulsated and seemed to almost breath on its own. Causing shadows to dance on the walls and for the warming glow to expand to all corners of the room while shifting with the movements of those who are inside. Priests no doubt offering confession to guilt ridden teenagers for having sex out of wedlock or smoking some pot. The older folks, the husbands and wives, they no doubt had similar confessions of adultery, narcotics abuse, or whatever else those silly commandments say you shouldn't do. You know, the things that might accidentally send you to hell if you aint careful and yet somehow they always turn out to be the most fun. Yeah... those things. People flocked like sheep to places like this, places where they could come and be in awe of the indoctrination. They were impressed with the polished crucifixes and the oiled oak pews and hardwood floors. Everywhere you looked you could either see the judgmental eyes of Jesus Christ on you or the sympathetic face of the Virgin Marry- like she could see what you had done wrong even before you confessed it. Like a mother ashamed of her children and yet she still forgives them. How someone can manage to capture such an expression in a painting, a stained glass window or a statue was a bit inspiring- if you bought into that sort of thing. But for those who weren't drunk of guilt or religion, this wasn't the house of God. It was just another stone cathedral that took up property space. A pretty space filler, but still a space filler all the same.

That is why many of the self confessed 'heathens', those who would not be brain washed into a religion that tells you that forgiveness for a lifetime of ruthlessness is just a slight prayer on your deathbed away. The idea that someone could live a life of wickedness and simply confess before their heart stops to gain entrance into the splendor of Heaven; it left a bad taste in the mouths of some. To others it just proved how full of shit it all was. Just another means to control.

So the camera man decided to remain outside, filming the church from a distance. Not because he, too, was a Godless heathen; but because Godless heathens happened to be the people who called on his services. That is why he stood back, filming the church as a every so light snowfall begins to cascade from the sky down onto the world before. Giving the air a clean smell and whitewashing everything that dared to be outside and brace the elements.

That is where we would find them, Matt and Nick Jackson, huddled together as they sat on the cobblestone steps of the church. Their backs against the thick wooden doors and their shoulders and heads hunched down for warmth. They were smoking something, at first the camera man thought it was their warm breath fogging up in the air; but he caught them passing it between each other and whispering to themselves. It wasn't until the camera man got closer and closer- close enough that they could finally see him that The Young Bucks acknowledged that they were on camera. The boys were dressed in leather jackets, tattered blue jeans and they had on Bullet Club T-shirts. Always loyal to the end, these two. Nick cracked his neck a little as he set his eyes on the camera. Matt gripped his brother by the shoulder as the two decide to address the camera and the viewers that it brought along with it.

"You made it... it's about fuckin' time"

"No kidding, we are starting to freeze our balls off. I mean, who do you think we are? The Briscoe Brothers?"

Matt seemed to be in lively spirits, grinning slightly as he took another drag off of whatever it was that he was smoking. But Nick didn't seem nearly as lighthearted or as comical as his brother did. That was because this week it would be Nick Jackson of The Young Bucks who would be tested. And Nick looked eager to rise to the challenge. Nick kept it cool though as he spoke in a forced casual voice.

"If we were the Briscoe's that would mean we were missing teeth, screwing our cousins and getting our asses handed to us on a nightly basis every single time we stepped into the ring. So bro, tell me- do I still got all my teeth?"

Nick smiled wide and tilted his head back so Matt could see.

"All those pearly whites are accounted for. How about me, how is my grill looking?"

It was Nick's turn to scope out his brother's smile, and soon he fist bumped his brother in a reassuring gesture.

"Lookin' good, lookin' good. So, we got that covered. Next- and you know I hate to ask but you haven't been... you know, climbing the family tree, have you?"

This time the first bump was turned into a punch into Nick’s shoulder from his brother Matt, who clearly didn’t appreciate the question.

"DUDE! Hell no!- Ewww, just... no. The Jackson clan doesn't roll like that; we're not those OTHER brothers who should be tested before every match. We got standards, and part of those standards involves not drilling our own. I don't think Mark & Jay got the memo. But you know what that means, right? We only got one last thing to check"

Both Matt and Nick look over their own shoulders to check out their own asses. When they turn back to each other they high five as though what they saw was just that awesome that it merited that kind of a response. The Young Bucks were beyond pleased with themselves when it came to their backsides and how good they thought they looked.

"Oh yeah, still lookin' fine and more importantly... it's still attached to me. Guess that means it wasn't kicked off, no mud holes were stomped in it. You know what that means?"

Nick nodded as both he and Matt turned back to face the camera as they spoke. Matt taking a drag off of his joint one more time before flicking it out off of screen view so that he can put his cold hands into his coat pocket. Nick still looked a bit too worked up to have a chill as he spoek to the camera.

"It means that we are in the best possible position we can be in, in this company. That's because we are NOT the Briscoe Bitches! People haven't grown accustomed to watching us get the snot kicked out of us at every Smackdown show or every Pay Per View gig. The WWE Universe already knows better than that!- they know that The Young Bucks don't slip up, not like that! And damn sure not that badly. Honestly, stop and think about it. When was the last time you all seen Jay Briscoe as a threat? No, no, no- I aint talking about him MAKING threats, I am talking about him actually being one! About him having to back his shit up after he says it! Because when I stop to think about it... I'm not too sure when the last time Jay or Mark Briscoe were taken seriously. At lease not since we've shown up and changed the game. On the night The Young Bucks and Kenny Omega debuted in the World Wrestling Entertainment company- when we showed up at Summer Slam, that was the night Jay Briscoe went on to capture the European Title from... wait for it... wait for it... RAVEN! Jay Briscoe managed to scoop the strap up from Raven!"

Matt shakes his head as if this were not an accomplishment but rather something Briscoe should be ashamed of.

"A has been being dethroned by a 'Never Was'... now that's embarrassing. I imagine that is how it must feel to wake up and live in that piss pot of a town called Knoxville, Tennessee! Like your whole life was just 'A Nobody' beating 'A Jober'. Just day after day after day... if I can be real for a sec, I'd probably shoot myself if I had to call that bleak existence my life. No joke, just BANG! Out like a Von Erich! One of the surest ways of getting a Hall of Fame ring..."

Nick sighed.

"Easy bro, don't go giving those Briscoe Bumpkins any ideas. Once the WWE added The Bushwhackers to the Hall of Fame, it pretty much said they would accept anyone. And if you look at em, The Briscoe's are about twenty years away from BEING The Bushwhackers! Just a bunch of glorified curtain jerkers who never deserved what little spotlight they had! They were just a flash in the pan, that's all. They haven't really amounted to anything and they probably never will! That is why the people of Tennessee are behind Jay Briscoe, because they can relate to him. He is one of them, bathing in failure every chance he gets! And normally... no, MOSTLY!-it has been The Bullet Club that has been dishing it out! We are the ones who put both you and Mark on your asses in less than a month! We are the ones who stripped you of your title and your dignity! And once this little match of ours is over this week, we'll be the guys who go on to leave you in the dust of our careers! See, Jay & Mark, Smackdown might be a one stop trip for you two over active grease monkeys, but that isn't going happen to us! Not to me and Matt, in case you haven't noticed, we are moving on to bigger and better things! In fact, I want you two to take a good look because you are looking at the next World Tag Team Champions! And why are we going to be the next tag team Champs? Because we are the best! We are the best God damned tag team in this company! Not just on Smackdown, but in the entire WWE! They do not get any better than us! And if you don't believe you, why you don't you get into the ring with us Mark? Oh yeah, be my guest, hop on in! Come join the fun and we'll show you a side of the arena only Jay Briscoe has been seeing as of late. You get into the ring and you'll be looking at the ring lights, just like your brother did last week... and the week before that... and the week before that. Ha ha ha ha ha, and just like he is going to be gazing at those glowing bulbs again. Like it is the bright light at the end of a tunnel- like it is his stairway to heaven. But really, that light you see Jay, it isn't Heaven... it's the light of the Young Buck Express that is heading down the tracks to flatten you and your goofy little brother! We are coming to run your asses over, and we're not going to slow down when we do it! Jay, this match might be booked between you and me, but we both know it is bigger than that. This is about the future of the tag team divisions- the future of Smackdown and WWE itself! And Jay, that is a future is just too good for you and your brother. So it is on me to take you out, and lay you to rest"

Matt shakes his head and cuts his bro off.

"Our future isn't too good... it's actually"

Nick and Matt say it together


The Young Bucks throw up the Wolf pack salute and then turn it into the finger pistols and a couple of crotch chops as the scene fades to black. The church bells seem to chime on cue, like they were playing and ringing out... counting down the moments until Smackdown. Counting down the moments Jay Briscoe might have left before his world comes crashing down all around him.