Monday Night Rage Live Broadcast
“Welcome to a sold-out Toyota Center in Houston, Texas. This is Monday Night Rage!” Jude Paul says, practically cut off by a heavy drum beat paired with sounds of a distorted guitar.
Within moments, a man stalks out from backstage, rolling his neck from side to side. He stands at the top of the ramp, taking in the crowd’s reaction, before his lips curl into a sickening smile. Grady Chandler.
“I never thought I’d see the day when ‘The Lunatic’ Grady Chandler was back on my television screen, Jude,” Scott Harrington says to his counterpart.
“You’re not the only one. I don’t think anyone expected him to make his return, especially not Wolf Bennett. If you remember, Grady attacked Wolf after his match last week against Knox Sterling.”
“What better way to make your presence known?” Scott chuckles. “Maybe tonight we’ll find out why he attacked the number one contender for the EWE Championship.”
“I think we can make an educated guess on that, Scott.”
Boos overtake the arena, and Grady stands center stage.
He wears a proud smirk as he rewatches the damage he caused last Monday.
When he lifts his hand to his ear, Grady chuckles as the sounds of displeasure amplify to a near-deafening level.
He begs them to continue, beckoning them with his free hand, and they do.
A few even hurl insults at him from behind the safety of the barrier.
Those people are his favorite. He thrives in this environment, where the observers are hostile—bitter because he showed them how weak their hero is.
“I know what you’re all thinking,” Grady says into the microphone, and it earns another round of boos. He laughs.
Tonight is going to be one of those nights.
“I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could he do that to Wolf Bennett?’ And the answer is simple: Because I can. And because you people have allowed frauds and impostors to take over my ring. You’ve been lied to, manipulated, and deceived.”
Grady scoffs. “It’s not your fault. You’re only doing as you’re told.
You see what they want you to see, and you feel what they want you to feel.
You’re part of a system that tells you who to cheer for before you even know their name.
Everything is manufactured to be the way they want it.
But know this: I have never once lied to you.
I have always been truthful with you. Honest about who I am.
Another chorus of boos.
“Two years ago, I was pushed out by the very same man you call Gladiator, and I’ve been forced to sit by and watch as you crown him a hero…
a warrior…a champion.” Grady practically spits the word, and a restless energy flows through the crowd.
“A gladiator is supposed to be a symbol of strength, a man of honor.” A dark chuckle escapes him, and he runs his tongue over his top teeth with an open grin.
“Wolf Bennett is none of that! And you know what the best part is? Everyone in the back knows the truth. Everyone. But they’re all too scared to speak up.
They don’t want to be the one who calls out one of the boss’s favorites, because that puts a target on their back. ”
The Lunatic begins to pace again, combing a hand through his hair over and over. “You see, I know the man behind the mask. I know Wolf Bennett, and he is nothing more than a product. Handcrafted and made to inspire you, to make you believe in something that doesn’t even exist!”
He stops abruptly and looks down at the crowd, at a boy in the front row wearing a Wolf Bennett T-shirt.
“A perfect example is this kid, right here,” Grady says, pointing at the boy.
“He believes every word, every pose, every victory, because that’s what he’s been told to do.
What you’ve all been told to do, and you’ve bought into it…
hook, line, and sinker.” Leaning over the top rope, Grady stares the boy down and, in a condescending tone, says, “Sorry to be the one to break it to you, kid, but your ‘hero’ is nothing more than a fraud. A real gladiator, a real warrior, doesn’t need an audience.
He doesn’t need praise or gold. All he needs is freedom, and he will fight to get that.
He does not bend the knee to become the thing he claims to fight against.”
Grady stares straight into the camera. “Wolf Bennett, you claim to fight for honor, but where is the honor in becoming the thing you swore to eradicate, Gladiator?”
“That’s a lovely speech, Grady.” Theo Rafferty, the General Manager of Monday Night Rage, steps out from backstage. His face is pulled into a tight line, unimpressed. “But this isn’t a session, and we’re not your therapists.”
“Oh, look, everyone: Theo Rafferty! Another prime example of what I’m talking about.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “You done?”
“For now.” Grady grins, staring up the ramp as he leans on the ropes.
“Good, because I think we’ve all heard enough, and it’s time to put your money where your mouth is,” Theo says, and Grady tilts his head to the side, intrigued.
“This Sunday at Paradise City, Colin Ryker is scheduled to go one-on-one with ‘The Gladiator’ Wolf Bennett in a cage match, and now…” Theo pauses, a smile splitting across his lips. “So are you.”
“You think this is the answer?” Grady shouts. “You think adding me to their match like some afterthought will shut me up? You’re wrong!”
“You wanted to be seen, Grady? Congratulations, you’ve got my attention.”