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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
The return of The Rock after seven long years. The blistering promo exchange between The Great One and the God King. And, most importantly, the shocking, violent arrival of Chris Jericho the Painmaker, who had brutally attacked The Rock out of pure, unadulterated vengeance against Sandro Zhang.
The fans held up hundreds of handmade signs, painting a clear picture of the fractured allegiance of the audience. "FINALLY!", "GOD KING RULES", "THE PAINMAKER IS REAL", and "SANDRO FEARS ROCKY".
As the clock struck 8:00 PM Eastern, the signature WWE intro package rolled, instantly followed by the deafening, explosive crack of the opening pyrotechnics. Huge pillars of fire shot from the entrance stage, illuminating the frenzied Harrisburg crowd.
The camera dynamically swept across the sea of cheering, screaming fans, taking in the chaotic energy of the arena before quickly cutting down to the ringside commentary table.
Michael Cole, Jerry "The King" Lawler, and John Bradshaw Layfield sat ready, their headsets on, prepared to guide the viewers through the madness.
"Welcome, everyone, to Monday Night RAW!" Michael Cole shouted, a massive grin on his face, practically having to scream into his headset to be heard over the noise of the Pennsylvania crowd. "We are coming to you live from a sold out Giant Center in Harrisburg, and gentlemen, I don't think my heart rate has returned to normal since we went off the air seven days ago!"
"I am right there with you, Michael!" Lawler cheered, adjusting his crown. "Last week at Madison Square Garden was one of the most shocking, unpredictable nights in the history of this business! The landscape of the WWE was turned completely upside down!"
"It was an absolute travesty, is what it was!" JBL immediately interrupted, his voice booming with irate, unhinged indignation. "We were supposed to be celebrating the greatest achievement in the history of sports entertainment! The God King, Sandro Zhang, stood in the center of the Mecca as the first ever Triple Crown Champion! It was a holy moment! And it was completely ruined by two selfish, washed up relics desperate for a shred of relevancy!"
"John, you cannot seriously be calling The Rock a relic!" Cole argued passionately, pointing a pen at his broadcast partner. "We are talking about The Great One! The most electrifying man in all of sports entertainment! He returned to the WWE after seven long years to challenge Sandro Zhang for either the WWE or the World Heavyweight Championship at WrestleMania!"
"He abandoned us, Michael!" JBL roared, his face turning a familiar, angry shade of red. "Dwayne Johnson took his ball and went to Hollywood seven years ago! He turned his back on the WWE Universe! And now, suddenly, he wants to come back? Let me tell you exactly why he's back! His latest movies flopped at the box office! The Hollywood elite don't want him anymore, so he comes crawling back to the island of relevancy, hoping to steal some clout and get a rub from the most famous, powerful man on the planet, the God King Sandro Zhang!"
"That is complete and utter nonsense!" Lawler shot back, disgusted by the narrative. "The Rock is a global icon! He came back because he saw an arrogant, entitled tyrant holding the company hostage, and he decided to step up for the people!"
"Oh, please!" JBL scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "And what about that other parasitic hanger on? Chris Jericho? The so called 'Painmaker'?"
JBL spat the nickname like it tasted foul. "He sneaks into the building like a coward, turns the lights off, and attacks a man from behind with a baseball bat! And then he has the absolute audacity to stand on the stage and threaten the God King? He challenged Sandro to either a 'No Holds Barred Match' or an 'I Quit' match at the Royal Rumble? It's pathetic!"
"It's psychological warfare, John!" Cole corrected him. "Jericho told Sandro that if he doesn't give him a one on one title match at the Rumble, he will win the thirty man match himself, and he will make the Undisputed System live in constant fear every single time the lights go out between now and WrestleMania! He is playing mind games with the champion!"
"The God King doesn't play games!" JBL bellowed, standing halfway up out of his chair. "Sandro told him exactly where to stick his ultimatum! Sandro told that painted freak that the Undisputed System are the ones who make lives a living hell! Jericho should have stayed fired! If he shows his face tonight, Wade Barret, Drew McIntyre, Big E, and Ryback are going to break him in half!"
"Well, gentlemen, we are going to find out exactly where the chips fall right now," Cole said, his voice dropping into a serious, dramatic register. "Because we are not wasting any time tonight. We are kicking things off with the man who laid down the ultimate challenge last week!"
The commentary desk fell silent as an undeniable, electric anticipation washed over the Harrisburg crowd.
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice echoed through the arena PA system, repeating a phrase that sent chills down the spine of every wrestling fan in the building.
"IF YOU SMELLLLLLLLLLL..."
The Harrisburg crowd absolutely exploded. It wasn't MSG, but the pop was still deafening.
"...WHAT THE ROCK... IS COOKING!"
The fast paced, legendary instrumental beat of The Rock's entrance theme hit the speakers. The pop was absolutely earth shattering. The Giant Center practically shook on its foundations as eighteen thousand fans leaped out of their seats.
The Great One stepped out from behind the curtain. He wasn't limping. He wasn't showing any lingering effects from the brutal baseball bat shot he had taken to the ribs last week. He wore a pristine $500 silk shirt, dark slacks, and his signature sunglasses. He walked with a swagger, a magnetic, undeniable charisma that completely commanded the attention of every single pair of eyes in the building.
He stopped at the top of the ramp, soaking in the adulation, slowly removing his sunglasses. He smirked, pointing out into the crowd, before power walking down the long steel ramp. He slapped hands with the fans in the front row, slid effortlessly under the bottom rope, and immediately sprinted to the near turnbuckle.
The Rock climbed the ropes, throwing one arm high into the air, soaking in the flashing cameras and the absolute roar of the Harrisburg faithful. He jumped down, crossed the ring, and mounted the opposite turnbuckle, repeating the iconic pose.
A ringside assistant quickly handed a microphone through the ropes. The Rock took it, stepping down to the center of the canvas. The music slowly faded out, leaving only the raw, unedited, deafening noise of the live audience.
"ROCKY! ROCKY! ROCKY! ROCKY!"
The Rock stood perfectly still in the center of the ring. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, literally smelling the electricity in the air. He let the chant wash over him for a full sixty seconds, masterful in his control of the crowd's pacing. He slowly raised the microphone to his lips, but just before he spoke, he paused, a small, knowing smile crossing his face, teasing the audience.
The crowd cheered louder, begging him to speak.
Finally, The Rock brought the mic to his mouth, his voice echoing with that unmistakable, booming cadence.
"Finally..." The Rock began, pausing as the crowd practically vibrated with anticipation. "...The Rock... has come back... to Harrisburg!"
The roar of approval was instantaneous. The Rock paced back and forth, holding the microphone down by his side for a moment, letting the pop settle. When he raised it again, his expression had shifted from triumphant joy to absolute, razor sharp focus.
"Now, The Rock is out here tonight, looking around this beautiful building, looking at all of your faces, and The Rock is feeling good," he said, his voice smooth and dripping with confidence. "But The Rock knows that last week in New York City, things got a little... complicated."
The Rock stopped pacing, planting his feet in the center of the ring, addressing the hard camera directly.
"You see, last week, The Rock came home," he declared. "The Rock stood on that stage, and he looked a spoiled, arrogant, entitled little boy named Sandro Zhang dead in his eyes. And The Rock told him exactly how it was going to be. The Rock told the 'God King' that he was entering the Royal Rumble, that he was going to throw twenty nine other jabronis over the top rope, and that he was going to take the WWE Championship or the World Heavyweight Championship at WrestleMania!"
The crowd cheered loudly at the reminder of the massive challenge.
"And The Rock meant every single word of it," he continued, his tone growing intense. "But apparently, while The Rock was laying down the law, somebody else decided they wanted to cut the line. The Rock was standing on that stage, and suddenly, the lights go out. The Rock thinks to himself, 'Oh boy, somebody forgot to pay the electric bill at Madison Square Garden.' But then, BAM!"
The Rock slapped his hand against his own chest to mimic the impact.
"The Rock gets hit in the back from out of nowhere," he said, shaking his head, a dark scowl forming on his features. "The lights come back on, and The Rock is laying on the steel grate, looking up at a guy wearing a cheap leather jacket, a ridiculous hat, and a black mask with two white crosses painted on it like he's trying out for a bad Halloween movie."
The Rock scoffed, leaning forward over the top rope, his voice dripping with absolute condescension.
"Chris Jericho," The Rock said, addressing the Painmaker directly. "The Rock knows exactly who you are. The Rock has whipped your candy ass all over God's green earth in the past, and The Rock has no problem doing it again. You want to call yourself the 'Painmaker'? You want to wear greasepaint and sneak around in the dark with a baseball bat like a total pussy?!"
The Rock's voice escalated to a booming shout, the anger finally bleeding through the charisma.
"Let The Rock explain something to you, Y2-Cheap! When you hit The Rock from behind, you didn't make a statement! You made a mistake! The biggest mistake of your entire life! You don't sneak attack The Great One! If you have a problem with The Rock, you walk your boots down this ramp, you step into this ring like a man, and you look The Rock in the eye before he shines up his boot, turns it sideways, and sticks it straight up your painted candy ass!"
The crowd went absolutely ballistic. The Rock was firing on all cylinders, tearing down the aura of the Painmaker with classic, unrelenting Attitude Era trash talk.
But he wasn't finished. The Rock spun around, pointing a finger toward the backstage area where he knew the Undisputed System was watching.
"And as for you, Sandro," The Rock sneered, seamlessly shifting his target. "The Rock heard what you had to say last week. The Rock heard you standing in this ring, hiding behind your human shields, telling Chris Jericho that he had to get in line behind The Rock. You stood out here, wrapped in your little fur coat, holding all those titles your daddy bought for you, acting like you're the baddest man on the planet. You said you aren't afraid of anybody."
The Rock started to slowly pace the ring again, a dangerous, mocking smile returning to his face.
"Well, The Rock is going to call your bluff, tough guy," The Rock challenged, his voice echoing through the silent, captivated arena. "You say you're the God King. You say you run this empire. Well, the People's Champion is standing right here in the middle of your ring. Right now. Live in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. And The Rock isn't asking you to wait for the Royal Rumble. The Rock isn't asking you to wait for WrestleMania."
The Rock stopped dead center, throwing his arms wide open, inviting the confrontation.
"The Rock is calling you out right now, Sandro! Bring your crown. Bring your little scepter. Bring your entire collection of generic, heavy breathing security guards! March your candy ass down this ramp, step into this ring, and let's see if the God King actually has the grapefruits to look The Great One in the eye when the lights are on right here in the middle of this ring!"
The Rock lowered the microphone, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with an intense, undeniable fire as he stared relentlessly at the entrance curtain, waiting for the Triple Crown Champion to answer the call.
The Harrisburg crowd was on its feet, completely unified in a deafening roar of anticipation. They wanted to see the God King. They wanted to see the collision of eras right here, right now, on Monday Night RAW.
"The challenge has been issued!" Cole screamed over the noise, leaning forward in his chair. "The Rock is calling out Sandro Zhang! He wants the God King in the center of the ring!"
"He's asking for a death wish, Michael!" JBL yelled, but even he sounded slightly nervous, his eyes glued to the stage. "You don't just demand an audience with the Triple Crown Champion! You have to earn it!"
"Well, the door is wide open, John!" Lawler countered, a massive grin on his face. "Let's see if the God King is going to walk through it, or if he's going to hide behind his golden gates!"
Ten seconds passed. The curtain remained perfectly still.
Twenty seconds passed. The silence stretched, becoming awkward, then tense.
The fans, realizing that the God King was apparently ignoring the direct challenge of the biggest star in the industry, quickly turned their anticipation into venomous hostility. A chant began to ripple through the arena, starting softly in the upper decks before cascading down to the floor seats, growing louder and more unified with every passing second.
"COWARD! COWARD! COWARD! COWARD!"
The Rock stood in the center of the ring, a disappointed, mocking smirk spreading across his face. He shook his head, raising the microphone back to his lips.
"Well, well, well," The Rock said, his voice dripping with condescension. "It looks like the 'God King' is nothing more than a—"
Before The Rock could finish his insult, the arena was plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
The crowd's chant instantly morphed into a massive, collective gasp.
"Here we go again!" Cole yelled over the darkness. "Who is it this time?!"
Instead of the screeching electrical interference from the previous week, a heavy, distorted, incredibly dark guitar riff began to play. It was entirely unfamiliar to the WWE Universe, a slow, grinding, heavy metal dirge that felt suffocating and oppressive. It was the song "Judas", performed by Chris Jericho's own band, Fozzy.
The arena lights slowly pulsed back to life, but they weren't the bright, colorful television lights. They were harsh, stark white spotlights cutting through a thick layer of artificial fog rolling out from the entrance stage.
The reaction from the crowd was a chaotic, confused mixture of cheers and boos. For over a decade, the WWE Universe had been conditioned to erupt whenever they heard the countdown and the opening chords of "Break the Walls Down". This new entrance music was unsettling, signaling that the man walking out from the curtain was no longer the flamboyant rock star they had known.
Chris Jericho stepped through the fog. He was dressed in the full, terrifying regalia of the Painmaker. He wore the heavy, spiked black leather jacket, the wide brimmed black fedora pulled low over his eyes, and his face was smeared with the chaotic, black greasepaint. He didn't carry the baseball bat this time, but his hands were taped like a bare knuckle fighter.
"The Painmaker has arrived!" Lawler exclaimed, genuinely unnerved by the visual. "And he is walking straight into the lion's den!"
"Good!" JBL barked. "Let The Rock tear him apart! Two relics fighting over scraps while the God King watches from his throne!"
Jericho walked slowly down the long steel ramp. He didn't look at the crowd. He didn't acknowledge the boos or the cheers. His eyes were locked entirely on The Rock, who was standing in the center of the ring, watching the slow approach with a mixture of amusement and readiness.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 21 (2011)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, 1x WWE United States Champion, 1x WWE Champion, & 1x World Heavyweight Champion
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner, 1x Mr. Money In The Bank, Youngest WWE Champion, PWI Top 500 (No.1) - 2010, & 1x KOTR (2010)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0