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heyits-kk · 4 years

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One Door Closes, The Devil Opens Another

Chapter 1

Summary: How does one enter an elevator in New York and end up in LA, specifically Lucifer Morningstar's elevator? I have no idea, but I need to find out and enlist the help of the devil himself.

AO3 | FFN

Life in New York isn't as grand and magical as it is in shows and movies. Yes, there are moments, like the holidays, and specific areas that have a feeling of wonder, but honestly it's mainly for tourists. At the same time, growing up here makes you appreciate the little nuances of the city finding hidden gems along the way. New York is still the place I’d rather be than anywhere else. That's how I feel about it, Kate, a twenty-eight year old woman currently pushing her way through the onslaught of people trying to make an appointment. I’m only about two minutes away, but sadly ten minutes late.

"Why did they have to choose such a busy area?" I mumble to myself while trying to fix my dark brown, almost black, straightened hair. Giving up and I decide to pull it up into a high ponytail. "And why during rush hour of all times!?" I exclaim.

I reach the building at Union Square and luckily catch the elevator. While going up to the tenth floor, I check that my equipment is okay from all the jostling earlier. Sighing in relief, I smile to myself and rejoice, "Great, now to work some magic!"

Three hours later and I’m all alone packing up my things ready to leave after having a smooth session with the client. Usually it wouldn't take long to put everything away, but for someone who's five feet juggling a lot of cumbersome items and exhausted, it's a bit more time consuming, not that I mind. I’m not someone who likes to be social all the time, I’m definitely an introvert. After having to be professional and chatty for so long, I can now recharge my batteries in the quiet.

The only sound in the empty studio is the slight hum and ticking of the pipes from the central heating. Complimenting the sound are lights dancing on the ceiling as cars pass the side of the building. Plus, in this alone time, I can freely sing to myself without worry of any judging ears. So, I start a playlist from Spotify on the phone and get lost in the music as I finish up.

Another ten minutes goes by and I pack the last few things neatly in the bags. At the same moment of me taking a sip of water, a slow song starts to play, a love song. Usually I loves slow songs, but after the session today with the couple, seeing them so in love with each other, it just makes me sigh. "One day..." I quietly say to myself. When it comes to the romance department, I’m a romantic, but fail horribly at it and I just don't try anymore. I tell my friends that I don't care and it’s fine, but as I see them with their partners of many years now getting engaged, I can't lie anymore. No matter how enjoyable it is to have that alone time, it doesn't mean I want it to be all the time. Shaking my head to get rid of those thoughts I tell myself sternly, "No need to think about that now. My time will come...there's no rush."

I stop the song before it finishes and assume that I'll be met with silence again, but that's not the case. Surprised, I turn to the window noticing that it's now raining heavily. Moving closer to the huge windows, I jump seeing a flash in the dark sky followed by a loud booming rumble.

"Are you kidding me?" I moan throwing my head back. I turn to the three large bags that were hauled here earlier today. "There's no way I can take these in the rain. I mean, they say the bags are waterproof...but I'm not risking it." I contemplate for a moment and fiddle with the two rings on my right hand, before deciding the only thing I can do at the moment. Putting on my jacket, getting my phone and grabbing my backpack, I head to the elevator. I step in and press the button for the lobby.

"I'll just ask for them to hold it and pick it up tomorrow, that should be fine." I remark while playing with the rings again and looking at the numbers slowly descending. Checking the time, it's 11pm. Sighing I mumble, "Maybe I can still rewatch at least one episode of Lucifer with some ice cream before bed." I smile thinking about the show. It's been one of my favorite shows recently. I’ve already binged the whole series and even saw a tiny clip of Lucifer guest starring in a CW show that aired recently. I’m definitely excited to see what happens in series five, but until then I'll rewatch the previous seasons.

The elevator dings and I step out into the lobby. I shuffle over to the doorman and ask, "I have equipment that I can’t take with me in the rain. Is it possible for me to leave it here and pick it up in the morning?"

"What floor is it on?" He asks me with a tired expression.

"It's on floor ten, the studio." I quickly respond.

The doorman sighs before saying, "That's fine by me, but come early or your stuff may not be there when you come back."

"Thank you so much! I'll make sure to be here as soon as the building opens. Have a good night." I respond happily. The doorman does a quick nod and goes back to his computer.

I then escort myself out of the building and into the rain. There wasn't supposed to be any rain today, but now it's a full-on heavy downpour. Sadly, I get soaked in a matter of seconds because an umbrella was not needed earlier today. Hurrying down the block, I stop halfway digging into my pocket for a Metro card only to find out the keys to my apartment aren’t there. With a loud groan, I turn around and rush back into the building.

Expecting to still see the doorman at his station since it’s only been a minute, I surprisingly see there’s no one in the lobby, not even the janitor. Thinking to myself, 'Okay...weird. I like the quiet, but not this eerie vibe going on. Let me just quickly get my keys before I'm locked in this building.' I scramble quickly to the elevator and tap my foot impatiently waiting for it. Glancing out the glass doors, the storm somehow gets worse. From the corner of my eye I see something flicker near the elevator, but as I turn my head back nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Finally, the elevator opens and I jump inside. Everything goes smoothly until the second floor, where the elevator light blinks. Again I fidget with my rings getting nervous, thinking, ‘Please don't let me get stuck in here.' Once the elevator passes the fifth floor, it jerks to a halt.

"No no no no!" I exclaim with my back against the wall. There's a moment of silence in the air and just as I start to relax a little, the light starts to flicker rapidly. "No! What the hell is going on!? Help! Help!" I shout in a panic. The elevator starts to shake and I fall to the floor. There’s nothing to do but hug my knees thinking, 'It's going to fall! I'm going to die! I was just going to get my keys and go home! Why me!?’ I sob as the shaking continues, 'Help me please! Help...'

Opening my eyes, I squint through the flashing lights and notice the elevator walls seem different, like they're glowing. I hesitantly reach out my hand to touch the wall and in that moment, the lights slow their erratic behavior. 'They're....gold? But, it was gray before. How?' I ponder. The shaking also stops and I slowly get to my feet glancing around now. 'It wasn't this big before.' stating to myself. From the corner of my eye, I spot the elevator buttons have changed as well. There are way more floors and at the bottom there’s a keypad.

Completely confused I question, "Where the hell am I?" As if someone is listening to me, the door opens. However, it just leads to more confusion and now panic. As soon as I stumble out, something large flies right in front of my eyes and crashes into, what looks to be in the millisecond I saw in the dark lit room, shelves of glass bottles. On reflex, I close my eyes and throw my arms up to shield myself from the flying shards. Suddenly, I hear the crunching of the glass and a groan that's not my own. Upon hearing footsteps slowly approaching and a voice that I somehow recognize, I immediately lift my head directing my eyes towards the sounds.

"You justify it all, don't you?" remarks the man with a posh sounding English accent in a tailored suit. He grabs a tall muscular man that got up from where the glass shelves were before by the neck. I can only stare in utter shock thinking, 'That's...not...possible.'

The well-dressed man goes on clearly agitated, "Claim it's all done in the name of our father, but... it's for your sake, brother. And they call me the prideful one."

"Enough!" someone yells from the left side of me. The two men and I turn our heads towards the female voice. Before I’m even able to begin processing what is happening, the female continues, "I'm the pawn. You both used me." She approaches the men and pulls out two curved daggers from her back as she hisses out, "You know what? Here. Kill each other." The woman slams both the daggers down onto a table in front of her and marches back to the stairs leading downward. The woman pauses a moment and adds dryly, "By the way..." She points her finger directly at me lazily. This snaps me out of the daze I was in and reminds me just how nervous I am at the moment. The woman’s eyes linger on me with a straight face stating, "...you have an audience."

She then disappears down the stairs while I feel two sets of eyes now directly on me. Slowly, I peek over at the men and they are in fact staring at me with confusion and wide eyes. The tailored man releases his grip from the muscular one and starts advancing my way slowly.

"Well, hello. Who are you supposed to be and what business do you have with me?" He says with a tight smile clearly not in the mood. I try to stutter out anything, but with my mind blank and throat dry, no words come out. The man insists more annoyed, "Well?"

As he moves closer, I lift my arms instinctively, but when I do, all it results in is pain. I was already lightheaded with feeling overwhelmed with what has been going on, but presently I have a feeling it was actually for a different reason. Peering down at the source of the pain, I stare at the torn and blood-soaked sleeves of my jacket. Slowly turning my arms, there's glass shards on the back of them.

From the horrifying experience of the elevator to the scene I just witnessed with the men and woman. Of course to top it all off with the shock of my injuries, it's too much. I start to take rapid short breaths with my eyes flashing up to the man in front of me who now wears a slight bit of concern on his face. He starts to fade from my vision and then my knees give out. Instead of feeling the impact of the glass covered floor, I feel a set of arms catch me.

"Bloody hell." I hear the English man curse under his breath. I muster up what I could to lift my head and try to utter something to the man gazing down with some anticipation.

All I can mutter before blacking out is, "Tom?"

The first thing that grabs my attention when slowly waking up is that it’s dark which suggests that it’s still nighttime. I try to lift my body, but quickly fails because of a stinging sensation. However, from that little bit of movement, I gathered some information of my whereabouts. My hands feel again what I’m laying on and it’s the texture of silk. I think to myself, ‘I don’t have anything silky in my apartment.’

With an attempt number two, now anticipating the ache, I successfully bring myself up into a sitting position. I take a moment to glance down at my arms to reveal they’re bandaged and the source of the pain. Shaking my head slightly and blinking a few times allows me to get my eyes adjusted to the dark just enough to figure out my location. The room is definitely big along with the bed I’m in. ‘Okay, am I in a luxury suite at a hospital, if they have something like that? Or maybe some rich philanthropist saved me from the falling elevator and I’m now at their penthouse. If neither of the two, then I have no idea and I should probably get out fast.’ Before fully leaving the bed, I’m stopped with the realization that something or things are missing on my person. ‘Where are my clothes!?’ I shout internally. With a new sense of alertness and energy, I jump out of the bed onto the cold wooden floors. Gathering the large sheet that was used to cover me, I try to wrap it around myself the best that I can. Continuing my thoughts, ‘There is no way this situation is good. My arms are bandaged and I’m naked! I have to get out of here.’

Perpendicular and off to the left of me there was a large open alcove. Bunching the bottom of the sheets so I don’t trip, I tiptoe silently. As I get closer, there’s a muffled voice, maybe two. They’re almost clear when I arrive at the edge of the alcove.

“What about her?” says a man with a deep voice. It triggers something in me, like I somehow have heard the voice before, but I brush it off to focus back on the task at hand. It’s not until I hear the other person that I freeze and I stop breathing for a moment.

“Ah right, the girl. Well, I’ll deal with that, brother.” comes a reply from a man with an English accent. I involuntarily let out a small gasp and hurriedly cover my mouth. It’s too quiet and they most likely heard me. I press my back against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut in hopes I wasn’t caught. I relax a little when the other guy adds mumbling, “And just when I thought I could have quiet evening after the night I had.”

The deep voice responds, “Just don’t scare her.” Suddenly there's a noise that sounds like a gust of wind.

Resting my head against the wall I remove my hand from my mouth and finally take the time to process the information. It’s coming back, what happened to me and why I blacked out. I think to myself, ‘I went back to get my keys, the elevator shook and I thought I was going to die…maybe I did? Or maybe I’m in a coma? Or it could be an elaborate prank? Those are the only ways this can make sense, how I’m here now…in this place…with them…with him.’ My thoughts are interrupted by a loud voice.

“Are you going to stand there all night pretending you’re invisible?” he asks.

Before hesitantly creeping out from behind the alcove I take a deep breath to try to control my nerves that have rapidly bubbled to the surface. I grip the sheets tightly as if they’re my lifeline to not fainting again as I finally take in the location. I’m definitely in a large penthouse, but this one is surprisingly all too familiar. The elevator door, the library, the balcony, the piano, and the bedroom I was previously in. The only difference is the smashed up bar area. To top it all off is the man who it belongs to, standing up from the leather chair with a glass of expensive whiskey in his hands. This is the Lux penthouse and the man right in front of me is Lucifer Morningstar.

I attempt to gather my thoughts, ‘I…but how…he’s…no cameras…this can’t be real.’ I must have looked dumbfounded staring at everything because Lucifer speaks again.

“Yes, I know this place is impressive, well excluding the bar. Sorry about the mess…and your arms. Good thing you humans have good reflexes or that would have been your face.” Lucifer says nonchalantly while taking a sip of his whiskey. I peel my eyes away from gazing at everything to look down at my arms with my hands gripping hard on the bed sheet, which then reminds me I’m still naked.

“My clothes.” I squeak out since my throat is in dire need of something to drink.

Lucifer casually states, “They’re hanging up in my bedroom. I couldn’t let you on my bed when you were soaking wet in them.”

My expression turns to shock and I ask, “Did you—”

“No, I had Maze take your clothes off.” He interrupts rolling his eyes. Lucifer then scoffs, “I have enough decency to not strip someone when they’re unconscious.” I let out a small sigh of relief, but at the same time think, ‘Maze isn’t that innocent…’ Lucifer then continues, “Anyway, enough with the small talk. I need some answers.”

I nod trying to clear my scratchy throat with no luck, so I ask him, “Do you have anything to drink?” He ponders for a moment then gestures me to sit on his leather couch.

As I shuffle over and sit, he moves towards the pile of broken glass at the bar. As Lucifer rummages through the mess, I suddenly have a thought, ‘So…there are no cameras, I can feel pain so it’s not a dream and it doesn’t make sense that this is what happens to me if I died. A coma is the most logical reasoning, but…what if this is actually real? It’s hard to believe it is because how? How did I get here? Why me? And…should I tell Lucifer or any of them they’re a show? That they’re fictional to me?’ I get pulled out of my thoughts with a glass being waved in my face. Taking a hand away from the vice grip I have on the bed sheet I grab it. My fingers ever so slightly touch his during the transfer and I jump a little at the contact. ‘Okay, so this can’t be a coma. I don’t think it can…feel this real if it was. I don’t know. I’ve never been in one before, but…it’s a gut feeling.’ I conclude to myself. I take a sip of the contents in the glass without even looking and immediately regret it coughing.

“Sorry, I know it’s not right to give alcohol to minors, but it’s all I had that wasn’t completely shattered. Besides, it looks like you need it.” Lucifer says as he takes a seat on the chair across from me crossing his legs. I take another swig now expecting the taste of whiskey and it’s much better. Then I let his words sink in thinking, ‘Every...time.’

I sigh responding, “I’m not a minor…I’m twenty-eight.”

“Oh well now you could’ve fooled me with your height alone. Anyway, now we’re getting somewhere! Finally some information!” Lucifer says light-heartedly with a grin and continues, “So how about a name?”

“Kate Perkins.” I tell him.

He nods gently and says, “So, Kate Perkins, why did you come to my penthouse dripping wet from head to toe when there wasn’t a drop of rain earlier that day? I mean, unless you fell into a pool?” I knew the question was coming, but what I didn’t expect was him referring to the events as “that day.”

“Isn’t it the same night?” I ask him confused.

He chuckles replying, “Oh no darling, you were out for quite a while and a lot happened when you were out.”

I hesitantly ask, “How long was I out?”

“All that…” Lucifer points to the bar continuing, “…was last night.” He takes a sip of whiskey while adding, “You actually weren’t in my bed until about an hour ago.”

“What do you mean?” I ask even more confused.

Now Lucifer scoffs leaning forward to pour more whiskey for himself saying, “If you must know, after you fainted I got framed for murder, and had to run from the police with the help of my brother. He for some reason brought you with us and after visiting my therapist to hideout, we left you with her to tend to your injuries.” If I wasn’t familiar with the show, I would be figuring out a way to run from him. However, this gave me helpful information in terms of my situation. ‘If I’m remembering correctly, that’s part of what happened in an episode…excluding me. I’m not sure which one, but…is this really going to play out like the show?’ Lucifer then adds, "I brought you back after I settled everything because I have questions. So, let’s continue shall we? Why did you come looking for me?”

Without even thinking about my answer I blurt out, “I wasn’t.”

“Then what was your purpose for coming here?” he asks. This time I take a moment and think, ‘I guess I’ll just tell him…but not everything.’

I respond truthfully, “I don��t know.”

Lucifer downs his drink then sighs clearly getting agitated and orders, “Elaborate.”

I take a deep breath staring at my hand while fidgeting with my rings and explain, “I’m from New York. Last night, I was there, in a building cleaning up from a photoshoot. When I finished it was raining.” I pause and correct myself, “No…it was a huge storm. I left my equipment and went down the elevator then left the building. I got soaked because I didn't bring an umbrella, but there was no storm scheduled for that day.” I glance over at Lucifer to see him listening, but gesturing me to get to the point. I sigh and speak again, “I left my apartment keys and went back to get them. It was odd going back because the lobby, that had at least three people, including the doorman, were suddenly gone.”

“Probably clocked out early.” Lucifer chimes in.

“No! I was gone for not even a minute and it was deserted!” I exclaim getting a little too emotional and it grabs Lucifer’s attention. I calm down and continue explaining, “Anyway, um…I had to go back to the studio, it was on the tenth floor. The light on the elevator started flickering when I reached the second floor, but I just thought it was because of the storm.” I chuckle thinking how stupid I was for that thought. Getting to the main part I grip the sheet tightly and then say, “It’s not until I got to the fifth floor that suddenly the lights went crazy and the elevator shook violently which made me fall to the ground.” I take a deep breath and mutter, ”I…I thought I was going to...”

I must have paused for too long because Lucifer asks, “What happened?”

I grasp my drink taking a sip and say, “I don’t know how to make it seem like I’m not crazy, but the elevator changed. The one I was in had small gray walls with the floors going up to fourteen. Then right before my eyes, the walls were gold, it was bigger and had more thirty floors with a keypad. The door opens and I see you choke-holding someone.” I take a breath and finish, “That’s what happened to me and I don’t understand.” Finally I lift my head to see Lucifer was no longer sitting in the chair, but by the balcony with his back to me.

There’s a period of silence before he speaks, “So, essentially you’re telling me that you transported from New York to here through elevators and you don’t know how or why?”

I give him a simple yes getting up and mumble, “Do you believe me?”

Somehow he hears and responds, “Yes, but it might not be as simple as you transporting across the country.” He huffs and steps out onto his balcony. ‘Yea, I know that’s true because I wouldn’t be talking to you if that was the case.’ I remark to myself. I proceed to follow him outside hanging back a little and watch as he lights a cigarette. After taking a long drag, he informs me, “There are such things as other worlds, specifically Earth and you my dear…” He turns to me and states, “…somehow jumped from yours to this one.” I remember the small CW clip of him that hinted about other Earths, but never thought it applied to real life.

The only logical response is asking, “How do I get back?”

Apparently this makes Lucifer laugh and say, “Oh darling, for me it’s simple, but for you humans, I have no clue.” He notices my silence and clears his throat adding, “But if you got here, you can probably get back.” I ponder for a good second before I make a decision I will most likely regret. I ask myself, ‘Should I really do this?’ With no other options, I walk up next to Lucifer a few feet away, lean on the railing and stare out at the view.

“Can you help me?” I mutter quickly.

He turns his gaze towards me, responding, “What was that?”

I take a deep breath and repeat, “Can you help me find a way to get back?”

“Are you asking for a favor?” he asks smirking.

“Yes.” I tell him. Expecting Lucifer to give me his hand to make it official, I lift my own up, but surprisingly that’s not the case.

Instead he says, “Before we make a deal, I have a few more questions.”

I’m curious about what else he wants to know and ask, “What else is there?”

“Well you my dear have been acting odd.” He accuses turning fully towards me. Before I can ask him what he means, Lucifer continues, “Ever since you’ve woken up, you have not asked me about your current whereabouts, question as to why I call people “humans,” and you just fully accepted that there’s more than one Earth. Furthermore, you have not even asked me for my name. The only thing you did ask me was how long you slept and for a drink.” I try to keep my composure when he moved closer until he towered over me while he spoke. ‘Okay…I’m in trouble. Telling him that his life is a television show and he’s fictional on my Earth would not be a good idea. I need to think of something fast, but he’ll know when I’m lying.’ I internally panic.

My thoughts are put on hold when Lucifer looks directly into my eyes and asks, “Tell me Ms. Perkins, what is it that you—” I interrupt him by tearing my eyes away and turning back towards the view of Los Angeles. ‘Oh no no! He is not going to do that to me! I have no idea what I’ll say. I might spill the truth to him, so I can’t risk it.’ I mull over while glancing over to Lucifer from the corner of my eye. He’s clearly annoyed that I pulled away before he finished.

“Well that’s because…” I start lingering a little before I continue, “…I just experienced this weird phenomenon in an elevator that I can’t explain and you seem to have the answer. I decided I’m just going to accept anything else that’s odd because why fight something I can’t control in this moment?” I then add, “Also, it looks like I'm in Los Angeles and after you asked for my name, I assumed you would introduce yourself.” Hoping that relieves his suspicion of me, I peer back over to Lucifer. He adjusts his suit and stands a little straighter.

He holds out his hand and once I hesitantly grasp it, he smirks introducing himself, “Lucifer Morningstar.” I’m unsure if he fully trusts me, but I’ll take it as a good sign. ‘I have to be more careful with how I act around him from now on.’ I make a mental note.

“Lucifer? Meaning—” I say acting the way he’s expecting me to.

He let’s go of my hand and finishes, “The Devil.” Even though I’ve watched him have this interaction on the show a number of times, it feels different. When it was on the show, I liked seeing the reaction of the person and I smiled. However, with Lucifer addressing it to me, with the smirk he always has on his face, it’s a bit unsettling. It’s not a show anymore. This is the actual devil standing in front of me. However, I do have an idea, ‘I've always wanted to mess with him and shake him up a bit when it came to this.’

“So…what would you like me to call you?” I ask him casually and before he responds I finish with, “Beelzebub? Satan? Lord of Darkness?” The only sign I see of Lucifer being caught off-guard by response is the slightest eye twitch.

He chuckles and says with a tight smile, “Firstly, it’s usually prince, not lord. And secondly, again you don’t seem to be…surprised with the fact that I just told you I’m the devil. Do you think I'm lying? Because the devil never lies.”

“Well, like I said before…I’ve already had strange things happen to me. It actually makes sense with the explanation you gave me about multiple Earths. I would think the devil is the one to know about things like that.” I reply to him. There’s an unexpected silence which causes me to look over at Lucifer only to find him staring at me with a puzzled expression. “What?” I ask him.

“So, you believe me, yet you’re not afraid?” he questions.

I confirm, “Yea,” and explain, “you haven’t given me a reason to be afraid. I mean, the situation, especially waking up without clothes, scares me, but you’ve actually been kind of helpful.” My outside response is different from what I’m thinking, ‘Plus, it helps that I knew who you were beforehand.’

Lucifer clears his throat and speaks, “Right well,” he puts out the cigarette and holds his hand out announcing, “I’ll help you get back to your Earth, but I’ll require a favor from you whenever I choose to use it.” This is what the night has been leading up to, making a deal with the devil.

I lock on to his hand, take a deep breath, and shakily take his in mine saying, “Okay, it’s a deal.”

“Great!” Lucifer chimes while turning to go back inside, “We’ll meet and start first thing tomorrow, it’s been a long day.” I follow behind, but stop with the realization I have nowhere to go.

Feeling stupid, I stammer out, “I need another favor.”

Lucifer spins on his heels and scoffs, “Honestly, we haven’t even fulfilled our first agreement.”

“I need a place to stay.” I mumble embarrassed.

He pretends to not hear me and jokes, “Sorry what was that? You need a face to sit on?”

“What!? No!” I shout taken aback. Recovering from his comment, I repeat louder, “I need a place to stay.”

He laughs, “Yep, heard you the first time.”

I include, “Just until I can get my own place temporarily.”

Grabbing his whiskey glass to finish the last bit he says, “Fine! You can stay here until you get yourself sorted out.” Lucifer puts his glass down on the piano making his way to his bedroom.

I exclaim, “Thank you!”

“Yes, yes. I’m mainly doing it to keep an eye on you. Anyway, it’s been a long day.” He says turning to me on the steps and points to another alcove on the same side of his room. “Guest room is down the hall and to the left, further down to the right is the washroom.” He informs me. Before I can comment, he says quickly, “Good? Okay, night.” He retreated into the room afterwards leaving me alone in the main room.

Not knowing what else to do and feeling awkward alone in Lucifer's penthouse, I head down the hall he mentioned. ‘This area was never shown in the show, I’m kind of curious with how it looks.’ I wonder with a hint of excitement. Reaching the door, I open it and surprisingly it’s like Lucifer’s room. The only difference is it’s smaller, the bed sheets are white, no stone carved walls, and it doesn’t have Lucifer’s things. I immediately make haste towards the bed and flop down on my back.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully let this sink in.” I whisper, “I just made a deal with Lucifer Morningstar in…no…clothes.” Hopping out of the bed hoping I can get my clothes before he falls asleep, I hurry to the door and open it, but crash into something. I move back to discover it’s a torso, specifically Lucifer’s.

“You left your clothes in my room.” He smirks amused and adds, “Second time I’m saying that to someone who I haven’t slept with first.”

I snatch the clothes from his hand embarrassed and stutter out, “Thanks.”

Right before I shut the door, he stops me and says, “One more thing.”

“What?” I ask tiredly.

“Why did you call me Tom?” he inquires with curiosity.

“What?” I ask again, but more awake now.

Lucifer explains, “Right before you fainted, you looked at me and said “Tom?””

I reply fast, “I don’t know.” I attempt to close the door again and he stops me a second time.

With a stern expression he says, “You do know. Why?” I think, ‘Oh no…I can’t tell him. Unless…’

I respond, “I thought you were someone else that I know.”

Lucifer examines my face for a second then smirks, “Well, he must be quite handsome.” I sigh finally closing the door in his face and through the door hear him chuckle, “Have a good night, Ms. Perkins!”

Dragging my feet to the bed, I fall face first this time. That wasn’t the best decision because my arms scream out in pain and I immediately turn over. Lifting my arms to fully examine them, I sigh clearly exhausted physically and emotionally. ‘I’ll figure more things out tomorrow like where I’m at in terms of the show and if it does play out like the show, what I should or shouldn’t do. I dealt with enough right now.’ I decide for myself and also think, ‘At least I know how to get around revealing too much to Lucifer. Don’t lie, but be vague with my answers. Hopefully I can keep up the act and nothing bad happened. I just don't know if I can handle him.’ After that, I drift off to sleep with one more thought, ‘But seriously...Lucifer Morningstar is actually real.’

Thanks for reading! I don't know how long this story will be, but look forward to more of it! I hope you're enjoying it so far!

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finalproblem · 7 years

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Ye Olde TFP Reaction Poste

“A Gift to Friends and Hate-Readers Alike”

I promised I’d do this post this weekend, so I am. But fair warning that this is going to be much more about me than about the actual episode.

It will also be at least 2/3 longer than it should’ve been.

I think some people are assuming they know what my reaction to that episode was. That I’m really upset or hate the show now or something. But that’s not true. My primary feeling is exactly the one I said it was a week ago: I feel tired. I am tired.

To give a little bit of context, I decided pre-TFP sp0iler lockdown time was a good chance to update my About page. So I did.

I hadn’t looked at the page in a long time (hence the update), but here’s what it said at the top:

This is the blog I write about the BBC/PBS television drama Sherlock when I am half-asleep. (WHY IS THAT ALWAYS STILL TRUE EVERY TIME I UPDATE THIS PAGE?)

I realized that was still true. Yet again. Which is why it’s still on the page.

So to be perfectly, 100% clear, I was tired going into this thing.

And I knew it. Which is why I was really hopeful about the show finally wrapping some things up--or beginning to move toward wrapping things up--in episode 3 like the writers implied on multiple occasions.

I like it a lot here, and I don’t regret anything about having this as a hobby. But I do also have other skills and commitments and interests that I don’t discuss here since this is a single-topic blog. Plotlines maybe kinda sorta starting to get wrapped up felt like a great opportunity for some mental crop rotation, if you get what I mean.

That’s not to say I was going to pack it in and leave fandom. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.

But, like... I’ve been here doing this on Tumblr for 5 years. I’ve had a few gaps, sure, but I’ve been more consistently posting about Sherlock and only Sherlock than just about anyone reading this during that time. (Don’t yell, I said almost anyone.) It’s healthy to change things up sometimes. Or to borrow a creepier turn of phrase... “If Tumblr fandom is a balance sheet--well, I believe I’m in credit!”

So I was ready to see the big “story we’ve been telling from the beginning. A story about to reach its climax” whatever-it-was and then take that opportunity to free up a little space in my brain attic.

And then I actually watched The Final Problem.

Did I hate the episode?

No.

But it takes a lot to get me to hate something fictional. (This is also covered on my About page.)

You know that saying, though? “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.” It’s more like that.

TFP is a giant bowl of indifference stew for me.

And I say that while allowing--as I always, always have--that this story belongs to the writers and they get to do whatever they want with it. This is not the first, “well, that’s not how I would’ve done it” moment for me, either. If I ragequit every time that happened, I wouldn’t have even made it to The Great Game.

I also say that knowing full well many people LOVE the things I am indifferent to about this episode. And if you got just what you wanted here, I am genuinely happy for you! That’s great! That’s a rare thing in fandom life. Enjoy it. (Enjoy it the way I enjoy canon Holmes retiring alone with bees, which I think is fantastic and makes all the sense even though I’m aware almost everyone else here thinks it’s a terrible tragedy.)

But with those disclaimers in place, here is an incomplete list of stuff I am very, very indifferent to:

A secret third Holmes sibling

A single childhood trauma being the primary driver for a complex adult’s personality

Redbeard being anything other than a sweet doggy

Angst in general

Kids getting murdered

Whatever was being expressed about mental illness

Mind control

Random characters dying a whole lot so that main characters can avoid any real damage

Jim Moriarty secretly being anyone else’s pawn the whole time

Big solves coming out of info that was mostly hidden from the audience

Having Sherlock and John in 221B forever with nothing ever changing (I was ready for them to blow something up this series if they needed to, or barely escape blowing it up if they wanted to, but I didn’t expect the result to be “blow it up but put everything back exactly how it was.” I mean, I can appreciate the possible canon reference there to the magically non-harmful fire in the original story, but this ended up a little on the nose with the voiceover and everything.)

Horror movie format

The horror movie thing is probably the closest to an actual “nope” there. It may sound weird since I’m obviously cool with watching murder mysteries, but horror typically doesn’t sit well with me and that aspect alone will make it harder to rewatch the episode and therefore less fun. (Again, I only say this for me. Personally. There is nothing wrong with anyone else being into horror. You do you.)

I could maybe have talked myself into getting on board with the “oh, this is all about what Sherlock would’ve been like if he didn’t have a friend” analysis angle, but then I think about how Sherlock did have a friend and that friend was murdered and how Mycroft (allegedly) doesn’t have friends and is not murdering anyone (and in fact is less murdery than previously anticipated) and end up annoyed about how there’s no real control group and what a badly designed experiment this was. So that doesn’t really help.

It’s definitely not a shipping issue for me, because I don’t ship anything in this show and never have.

And it’s not really a characterization issue because I am a canon-reading Doylist and have long-since become used to not giving a crap about that. (The exception being if characterization is an intentional clue in a mystery, but we’ll come back to that eventually. Maybe.)

And it’s not really about my theories being wrong because--and I know, I KNOW this will sound like such an asshole thing to say, but there’s no way around saying it--technically they aren’t wrong yet. Sure, maybe specific theories I had about this episode that I came up with in the week before it were wrong, but not the ones I really care about that I’ve had for up to 5 years. I mean, you are totally free to interpret this episode as proving me completely wrong about everything. That’s fine. But, for example, saying “Jim recorded some video clips for Eurus” is not actually disproving my theory about what was going on with the “Miss me?” messages. They certainly seemed to want to lead viewers to assume that, but then why not just come out and say it if that’s the answer? Why be coy? (Especially when they’ve left contradicting clues in other episodes of this very series.)

This is where we get to the true heart of the matter. And the part where it becomes even more relevant that I’m tired.

Because they’ve done this to me before. Magically skipped through and managed to neither prove nor disprove any of the theories I’ve been waiting for resolution on. So on the one hand, I probably shouldn’t be surprised.

Which makes it all the more exhausting that the honest truth is...

Deep down...

I still think they’re going somewhere with this.

AND I GET IT, now a bunch of you are looking at me like I’m

Zoidberg: Amy, take off these rubber bands and I'll show you how normal I am! Amy: Fool me seven times, shame on you. Fool me eight or more times, shame on me.

Which is probably fair enough, because that’s how I feel, too.

But the rarely-pure-and-never-simple truth is I think there’s more to all of this plotwise than it seemed like there was. The same pieces of the mystery I cared about are still open. It’s not so much that I hope that’s the case, because again--I was really and truly looking forward to the freedom that would come from being either definitively right or wrong.

The reason I nicknamed this episode The Patience Grenade is because that’s how it felt. Like they were trying to blow up my patience.

Wait for answers? Don’t get answers. But get just enough hints that you walk away believing there still might be answers coming. At some indefinite point in the future. If the show even continues. Which no one is promising it will.

Meanwhile, the entire episode will be themed around the idea that if someone has you trapped in a twisted game, the best option is to refuse to play.

Tick tick tick tick... BOOM.

(It also doesn’t help that I usually adopt the final featured pop song of each series as a theme song to put on loop while I write up theories and such, and this time the one they chose starts with the lyrics: “I want to break free / I want to break free / I want to break free from your lies / You're so self satisfied I don't need you / I've got to break free / God knows, God knows I want to break free.” SALT IN THE WOUND, MUCH?)

If this was back when I just watched the show and didn’t talk to anyone about it, it would be one thing. But now I do talk about it? Almost every day? And short of deciding to storm out of here, which again is not my plan or goal... How do I get through the next few weeks or months or years?

I’m not going to lie and say I loved the last episode.

But I’m also not going to lie and say I think all semblance of plot is irretrievably off the rails or that the writers are just bashing randomly on a keyboard to come up with this.

And the one specific theory I’m most interested in post-TFP is... um... Short of some kind of hail mary play from the writers in the near future that gets rid of the “oh no, there are no more loose ends” business and starts other fans thinking in the same direction as me, it’s one that I know is going to sound kind of unhinged in a way that’s beyond anything I’ve posted before just because of its nature.

Which leaves me in a really awkward place, fandom-wise.

Because now I get to be looked at as the person who is being negative about the show AND SIMULTANEOUSLY as the person who is naively believing the writers aren’t totally clueless or stringing us along with no goal in sight AS WELL AS the person who even a lot of the remaining theory-type-people are likely to think is chasing ghosts. So basically there is nothing I can do that won’t have some camp rolling their eyes at me. (Unless I want to only post Hudders gifs from now on. Which, believe me, is tempting. But there still aren’t quite enough of them to pull it off.)

I guess my answer is to follow the same advice I’d give to someone else--it’s my blog and my hobby. I should do what entertains me.

Which, for the record, will be pretty much the same thing as always. If you find anything that I do on this blog in the near future a radical departure, the fact is you probably haven’t looked back far enough in my blog archives to understand how I work.

1) I will acknowledge plot holes and inconsistencies and poke some fun and indulge in some fandom crack posts.

This is not hating the show or attacking the writers. You can certainly decide it’s not the kind of thing you want to see on your dash and unfollow me. But from my side, it’s all in the spirit of believing the writers are actually building to something and trying to figure out what that something is. Plus, for the record, I poke fun at ACD canon even though I love it. As do Sherlock’s writers. It’s okay to be a fan of something in ways other than writing essays about how great every aspect of it is.

2) I will post theories, and just try not to worry too much if they sound kind of out there. (Which they will this time. They will.)

Theories are how I have fun with this show. And if you read or write fanfiction (like most of the fans on this site) but somehow feel it’s worthwhile to scoff at a theory I write up and point out that you think I’m wasting my time... Maybe stop first and think about why one interpretive/transformative fan activity that entertains me is a bigger waste of time than the interpretive/transformative fan activity you prefer. Because it doesn’t freaking matter, y’all. This is my designated hobby time, and writing up a fan theory--even one you think is super-duper-wrong--isn’t changing anything about how much I am or am not trying to do worthwhile things or save the world with the rest of my time. I simply have a marginally different hobby than you do.

And just to make one little adjustment because it was coming anyway...

3) I’m not going to rush.

If they can patience-grenade me and not guarantee anything will ever be resolved beyond this episode, I get to let myself take my sweet time getting my ideas out of my head this go-round. I have fun with this stuff, but I’ve got a lot of other stuff in my life that needs to be attended to soon. (And some of it’s actually more fun.)

Remember The Empty Hearse? That was a tiring time. Sherlock “explained” how he survived the fall, but a small handful of us were like... “No, that actually makes no sense?” We slowly made our case, and by a few weeks ago, it was probably more common than not for someone I bumped into in fandom space to be on board and believe that we still hadn’t seen the true fall solution. (Though I do expect those numbers to readjust again now that the writers are claiming everything’s all wrapped up, the end.)

To me, The Final Problem feels most like The Empty Hearse. Only I know it’s going to be waaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy more of a tiring slog to change anybody else’s mind about what happened there. Or at least to get anyone on the same page as me since I’ll be living in my own little rapidly-shrinking theory bubble. Luckily, my primary goal is to entertain myself rather than convince others, but even figuring out where I stand now that the show has dumped in memory-inhibiting drugs and mind control at the last minute is going to be more of a slog than usual.

So slog it I will, but I’m not going to hurry. Or even promise to make sense for a good long time. If ever. I’m not going anywhere just yet, but I’m not signing up to make myself more tired either.

If you’re cool with all that, we carry on as always.

If not, then you know what to do.

xoxo

203 notes · View notes

smallreferencepools · 7 years

Text

2017 Royal Rumble Fantasy Booking

Heya folks!

So, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m a bit of a fan of the pro graps! Yes, I love me some professional wrestling, and I love this time of year, because my favorite match on the professional wrestling calendar is right around the corner: the Royal Rumble. Yes, Mad Vince’s Muscle ‘n’ Bustle Factory is gearing up for the Road to Wrestlemania, and the third match on the card main event will be set this Sunday, in San Antonio, Texas! It’s gonna be a good time.

Now, I had planned on getting myself hyped into a stupor by rewatching the 2001 Rumble and seeing Kane absolutely trash some fools, but then a friend of mine decided to do a little experiment of writing. So, @becomingmyinnerdemons, I heard you. I read your booking. And I’m intrigued. But you know what?

I can do it better.

We get our rules spiel from Lilian Garcia, and the crowd is buzzing for #1...

WHOAH OH-OH-OH! WHOAH OH-OH-OH! WHOAH OH-OH-OH! WHOAH OH-OH-OH! LET’S GO!

Yes, at #1 it’s Sami Zayn! The Underdog from the Underground skanks his way down to the ring, full of fire and ready to prove himself against all those naysayers who got a concussion and forgot the last three years of his damn career. He’s bouncing on his heels, and we get our second entrant...

BREAK THE WALLS DOWN!

At #2, the United States Champion and fellow Canadian Chris Jericho! Fresh off of being freed from the shark cage that had been dangling over the ring and sporting a truly obscene scarf, he struts down to the ring, shouting about how he’ll eliminate Zayn on behalf of his best friend Kevin Owens. C’est la vie.

The bell rings, and we get some good stuff between Jericho and Zayn, trading holds back and forth, Zayn breaking out some soft lucha and Jericho being insulting. We get a relative stalemate, leading to #3...

LU-CHA! LU-CHA! LU-CHA! LU-CHA!

Out comes Kalisto, who earned a spot in the Rumble by winning a Fatal Four-Way tag team match earlier in the night alongside Apollo Crews, beating out the Golden Truth, Bo Dallas and Titus O’Neil, and the Usos! He gets in there and we get some fast-ish paced stuff between the three, including a nice lucha sequence between Zayn and Kalisto. Still no eliminations, though, as we get to #4...

I’M HERE TO SHOW THE WORLD, I’M HERE TO SHOW THE WORLD! COME OOOOOOONNNNNN! BRING IT ON!

Hi, he’s Dolph Ziggler, and he immediately gets into the ring and picks up where he left off by kicking the absolute MICKEY out of Kalisto! Superkick for him! Superkick for Zayn! Goes for a Zig Zag on Jericho, Jericho grabs the ropes to block, and Ziggler charges into a Codebreaker from Jericho! Some more fun times happen, and we get #5...

“AWWWWWWWWWW SAN ANTONIOOOOOOOOOO! DON’T YOU DAAAAAARE BE SOWAH! CLLLLLAP! FOR YOUR FUTURE UNIVERSAL CHAMPS, AND FEEEEEEL THE POWAAAAAHHHH!”

IT’S A NEW DAY, YES IT IS!

Yes, it’s the New Day! Specifically, it’s Xavier Woods! Xavier comes barreling down to the ring, springboarding over the top and engaging in that fun flippy offense! Good times, but no eliminations yet. Kind of sparse stuff in the early going.

[Still In: Zayn, Jericho, Kalisto, Ziggler, Woods]

It’s a delightful time, isn’t it? Why yes, yes it is. That takes us to #6...

AAAAAAWESOOOOME!

We’ve had a lot of fun flippy stuff, so here’s The Miz to ruin our days. Miz struts down to the ring and is generally slimy and disreputable at his opponents. Hey, Miz is a jerk and we hate him! Also, Woods eats a Skull-Crushing Finale. Miz gets a nice “standing tall” moment when the clock ticks down to #7...

*wee woo wee woo wee woo wee woo* (SOD OFF)

Hey look! It’s a guy who can provide a physical threat, one half of the Raw Tag Team Champions (because yes, they’ve retained), it’s Cesaro! Cesaro gets to do his thing, including a spot where he hits a Very European Uppercut on a springboarding Kalisto. We’ve got 7 men in the ring now. You’d think we’d be due a ring-clearing at some point in the near future. Not right now, though. Right now, we get...

*whimsy and orchestra!*

At #8, it’s the Extraordinary Gentleman, Jack Gallagher! Remember, the second G is silent. Jack, however, is not. He connects with a few guys, including a headbutt that flattens Cesaro and his corner dropkick on Miz. What about that clearinghouse, though? Who could possibly—

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUNNN!

...oh. Yeah. I suppose Braun Strowman will do for #9. Clothesline for Cesaro! Big boot for Gallagher! Big boot for Jericho! First up to try to stop Braun is Kalisto. He kicks at his legs a few times, tries a good lucha thing...and eats a running powerslam to the outside for our first elimination of the match. Whoops.

Kalisto is eliminated (Braun Strowman - powerslam)

Who’s next? Why, it’s Sami Zayn! They throw some bombs at each other, and Braun levels him with a big boot. That gives Xavier Woods an opening to try to leap on him. Xavier gets snapmared off, caught with both hands, and choke-tossed into the ropes! A clothesline later, and there goes one-third of the New Day.

Xavier Woods is eliminated (Braun Strowman - clothesline)

Jack Gallagher squares off with Braun, challenging him to the gentlemanly game of fisticuffs! The weird ex-swamp cultist is confused. He’s even more confused when this tiny guy headbutts him! Him! Braun Strowman! However, Gallagher’s dazed, too, and it causes him to misjudge as he charges Braun and gets headed over the top rope and to the floor. Boo hiss, big man!

Jack Gallagher is eliminated (Braun Strowman - countered charge)

Dolph Ziggler’s next, and he throws a superkick! Braun’s staggered! A second! Staggers some more! Ziggler leaps, looking for his anti-gravity DDT...and Braun hurls him off into the corner! But the clock is tickin’ down, and we’ve come to number...

TEN.

Yeah, you knew I was gonna do it. Tye Dillinger enters the Rumble at the number he was born to enter at, and San Antonio goes NUTS. Tye enters, and stares down Braun Strowman. There’s a big stare-down, and Dillinger gets a few big shots on Braun before he gets leveled by another clothesline. Well, we gotta do what we gotta do.

[Still In The Ring: Zayn, Jericho, Ziggler, Miz, Cesaro, Strowman, Dillinger]

The ring does the “gang up on the big man” spot with Strowman, getting most of them shoved off or headbutted away. Cesaro, though, squares off with Strowman, and in a typically Cesaro (that is, mind-blowing) show of strength, scoop slams the big man! Miz quickly tries to rush Cesaro for an elimination, and that doesn’t quite work, as we get #11...

*mandolin noises*

“MY NAME! IS ENZO! AMORE! AND I AM A CERTIFIED G! AND A BONAFIDE STUD! AND YOU CAN’T! TEACH! THAT! AND THIS RIGHT HERE, THIS IS BIIIIG CASS! AND HE’S SEVEN FOOT TALL! AND YOU CAN’T! TEACH! THAT! BADA BOOM, REALEST GUYS IN THE ROOM! HOW YOU DOIN’?”

Yes, it’s Big Cass! Finally, someone who’s billed as a big man! We get the “Him Big”-off between Cass and Strowman, with Cass coming out on top after a big boot. He picks up the big man and tries to heave him over the top, but Miz and Ziggler are there to try to pick the bones! Cass fights elimination, Braun having been conveniently dropped...and Tye Dillinger runs over and flips the whole mess over the top! Cass is straddling the top rope, Ziggler is clutching the ropes, and Miz?

The Miz is eliminated (Tye Dillinger - thrown over the top)

And he is FUUUUURIOUS. So furious that he reaches up and yanks Dillinger over the top with him to deliver a beating! BOO THAT MAN! BOO THAT TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE MAN!

Tye Dillinger is eliminated (The Miz - terrible sportsmanship)

Cass has managed to recover, as have Ziggler and Braun. Cass slugs away at Braun, delivering the Empire Elbow and bouncing up with a “HOW YOU DOIIIIIN’?” as #12′s music hits...

Русев удря! Русев мачка!

Here comes the Bulgarian Fruit Brute, Rusev! Well, you know who Rusev doesn’t like? Big Cass! Let ‘em have it! Meanwhile, Braun is pulling himself up in the corner. You know what that means? HELLUVA KICK! But he’s still going! You know what else that means? HELLUVA KICK! Strowman’s staggered towards the ropes! Cesaro nails a running European uppercut! Jericho hits a enzuigiri! A superkick from Ziggler! A third Helluva Kick! Zayn rushes to try to eliminate Braun! Ziggler’s not an idiot, so he joins him! Jericho’s still in this thing! He piles on! Cesaro! Four men, lots of big strikes, aaaand THERE GOES THE BIG MAN! Everyone takes a moment to catch their breath.

Braun Strowman is eliminated (Zayn/Jericho/Ziggler/Cesaro - gang warfare)

Lucky #13 is coming down...

DEH! *bass noises*

Yes, it’s the Wyatt Family’s first member tonight, Bray Wyatt. First on the docket? Big clothesline for Jericho! Corner avalanche for Zayn! Ziggler manages to push him off when he goes for a Sister Abigail, but this turns into another avalanche on Cesaro! Rusev goes for a jumping superkick, dodged, URANAGE! San Antonio is turning into the Wyatt Compound, Maggle, ah love it! Ziggler charges Wyatt, looking for that DDT of his again, and gets set back on his feet for SISTER ABIGAIL! Bray goes to hurl him over the top. Ziggler lands on on the apron, though...until he’s drilled with a huge clothesline that sends him spiraling head over heels to the floor!

Dolph Ziggler is eliminated (Wyatt - clothesline)

Bray cackles maniacally, turning around and facing off with Big Cass. Wyatt and Cass jaw at each other, and start swapping right hands. Wyatt staggers back from a big blow, but ducks under the boot and hits a big flying shot to the back of Cass’s head. Rusev sees his opening and runs in, dumping Cass over the top rope to a chorus of boos!

Big Cass is eliminated (Rusev - opportunism)

Rusev gets back up, shouting loudly, and turns around to stare down Wyatt! The two men begin trading shots again, and knock each other down off of a double clothesline in time for #14...

WEEEEEEEELLLLLLL...

Well, it’s the Big Show! The big man walks down to the ring and gets into a gross display of size. Chop in the corner for Jericho! Chokeslam for Wyatt! Knockout Punch for Rusev! He goes for a Knockout Punch on Cesaro, but Cesaro ducks it, running underneath, and hits a springboard European uppercut on Show! Cesaro staggers the big man and thinks “well, let’s try that again!” He does, and manages to drop the big man! Cesaro’s got him by the legs, and WE MIGHT BE GOIN’ A-SWINGIN’!

...or Rusev could superkick him straight in the teeth too, I guess. Rusev loves ruining our fun, doesn’t he? It’s a good thing that when he goes for a charge on Sami Zayn, it gets turned into a Blue Thunder Bomb! Zayn staggers to his feet and gets clubbed from behind by Jericho! He drinks in the boos, beckoning to the ramp, as we get #15′s music...

*synthesizer noises*

Holy hell, guys, it’s Jake “the Snake” Roberts! Listen to the ovation! It is THUNDEROUS in the Alamodome! Jericho and Roberts square off, and Jake volleys a few punches into Jericho! One! Two! Three! Short-arm clothesline! Roberts signals for the DDT, but Rusev breaks it up...only to eat a kneelift and finally, after thirty years of waiting, we get a DDT in the Rumble!

[Still in the Ring: Zayn, Jericho, Cesaro, Rusev, Wyatt, Show, Roberts]

Jake continues working over Jericho in time for #16′s music to hit...

*angry guitar noises*

Well, here comes the pain! Brock Lesnar comes Brock Lesnaring down the ramp, and immediately bowls over Roberts with a clothesline that sends him over the top!

Jake Roberts is eliminated (Lesnar - clothesline)

Now that the retiree is out of here, it’s SUPLEX CITY TIIIIIME! Germans for everybody! One for Jericho, one for Rusev, one for Wyatt, one for Zayn, TWO for Zayn, one for Cesaro, and hey, Big Show’s getting to his feet, WORLD’S LARGEST F5! Out ya go, big man, thanks for playing!

Big Show is eliminated (Lesnar - F5)

Jericho goes for a Codebreaker on Lesnar as he turns around, and Lesnar catches him, lifting him up and into an F5 as well! Rusev roars and charges Lesnar, who sidesteps him and sends him into the corner! Another German for Rusev! Brock is on a tear! Who can slow him down? Will #17 be the man to do it?

WE DON’T GET HYPE, WE STAY HYPED!

...dammit, Mojo Rawley. He gets in the ring, hyping himself up across from Lesnar, and charges with a shoulder tackle...that is no-sold. Another! ...also no-sold. A third! ...caught into a belly-to-belly suplex! Pray for Mojo, folks. Not that you get to pray much, since he’s promptly flung over the top rope.

Mojo Rawley is eliminated (Lesnar - survival of the fittest)

Lesnar’s back up, and we get a staredown with Cesaro that should hopefully pop the crowd. They trade some big shots, and Cesaro actually manages to get out of a F5 attempt and yanks him into a stalling gutwrench suplex! Cesaro goes for the Neutralizer, but Rusev cuts him off again with a running superkick! Dammit, guys! Alright, #18 better be worth our time...

*upbeat brassy theme*

Well hey, Apollo Crews isn’t perfect, but he’s something. Apollo gets into the ring and actually starts trading shots with Rusev. Lesnar keeps picking his spot, casually walking through and leveling whoever he pleases. Not much happens in this ninety seconds, and #19′s time has come...

IT’S A NEW DAY, YES IT IS!

Hey, it’s our second member of the New Day! This time, it’s Kofi Kingston! Kofi springboards right over onto Brock Lesnar...and gets caught! GERMAN SUPLEX OVER THE TOP ROPE! But Big E catches him to break his fall! Big E marches around to the other side of the ring, placing Kingston on the apron, and Kofi springboards back in...Cesaro catches him as he jumps with a leaping European uppercut! Big E catches him AGAIN! Another side of the apron! Running superkick from Rusev! ANOTHER catch! The referees are getting cross now. Big E sets Kofi back on the ring steps to ponder his situation as he goes to the back. He stands back up, cracking his knuckles, and is walking back up the steps as #20′s music hits...

*crashing slide guitar*

After Tuesday night, Luke Harper was the last person Bray Wyatt wanted to see. Right now? Kofi’s that person, as Harper cracks him with a big boot that sends him careening off the stairs before he’s even entered the match!

Kofi Kingston is eliminated (Harper - bad timing)

Harper slides into the ring and immediately drills Wyatt with a kneelift/discus lariat combination! Poor bastard. Harper gets his staredown with Lesnar as well, trading shots and actually taking him off his feet with a running big boot! Well done, Luke Harper! Good for you! Now we wait for #21...

[Still in the Ring: Zayn, Jericho, Cesaro, Rusev, Wyatt, Lesnar, Crews, Harper]

*bagpipes intensify*

The other half of the Raw Tag Team Champions enters next, as Sheamus runs down to start dealing out a few beatings! Down goes Jericho! Down goes Zayn! Down goes Crews! Down almost goes Cesaro! The two partners bicker, but they duck a Harper-Rusev double team and respond with stereo European uppercuts! Harper decks Cesaro on the rebound with a discus clothesline, and Sheamus pairs off with Rusev in the corner. Man, there are a lot of people in right now, aren’t there?

*cue the chants*

#22 is Goldberg, and the entire Rumble stops as he makes his way down to the ring...eyes locked on one man. Goldberg gets into the ring, staring down Lesnar...and Chris Jericho charges Goldberg! Big mistake. Goldberg counter-charges with a spear, and he wins that one, picking up Jericho’s lifeless corpse and finally tossing the #2 entrant.

Chris Jericho is eliminated (Goldberg - being Da Man)

Not to be outdone, Lesnar rips Apollo Crews out of the corner, hauling him up for an F5, and plants him before tossing the poor man.

Apollo Crews is eliminated (Lesnar - one-upsmanship)

Lesnar and Goldberg finally get to trading shots, and the Rumble revives around them. Rusev and Cesaro get into a tussle on the ropes, and Sheamus rushes over to help...but in the process, only “helps” eliminate both men!

Rusev is eliminated (Cesaro and Sheamus - teamwork) Cesaro is eliminated (Sheamus - “teamwork”)

Cesaro is, to put it mildly, not happy at what happened. Sheamus just shrugs, turning back into the melee as we await #23...

IT’S A NEW DAY, YES IT IS!

Big E dashes down to the ring, noticeably deflated by the absence of Kofi Kingston. Xavier Woods and Francesca II are back out for moral support, so that’s something, right?

Right?

Anyway, Big E doles out a few belly-to-belly throws, including one to Harper and one to Lesnar. E gets up and stares down Goldberg, hopefully to a good reaction? The two big men trade shots before Lesnar uses it as a chance to blindside Goldberg. The two legends trade shots again before Lesnar goes low, giving him the opportunity to hoist him up for an F5. As Goldberg stands back up, Lesnar manages to heave him over the top to the boos of the audience.

Goldberg is eliminated (Lesnar - shot to the nads)

Lesnar’s about to turn to deal with someone else when Goldberg slides back into the ring, drilling Lesnar with another spear! The Rumble stops again so Goldberg can hoist Lesnar up and drop him with the Jackhammer. Even with that advantage, we still get #24 before he rises...

*growly guitar*

Hey, look! It’s the Intercontinental Champion, Dean Ambrose! He doesn’t like Brock Lesnar, ‘cause he remembers last year! Dean goes after ol’ Brock with a vengeance, nailing him with his patented flailing offense. We’re starting to get into privileged territory here, and Sheamus gets knocked for a loop with a rebound lariat! Zayn gets taken down on an exchange with Harper, and out comes #25...

*motorcycle noises*

Aw hell, it’s Baron Corbin. Corbin immediately comes in and hauls Sami Zayn in for the End of Days, before doing what we all knew would happen but didn’t want to hear...wait, what? He hung on? Well, damn.

[Still in the Ring: Zayn, Wyatt, Lesnar, Harper, Sheamus, Big E, Ambrose, Corbin]

Corbin and Lesnar get a nice trading shots sequence, circulating through the men in the ring. Brock gets flattened just in time for the appearance of #26...

*Godzilla noises*

Holy crap, guys, it’s Samoa Joe! Joe makes a beeline for the ring, and...yep, another staredown. Wait, no staredown. Joe just goes after Lesnar, hauling him up to the top rope and drilling him with the Muscle Buster! Joe hurls Lesnar over the top rope, much to the shock of...well, EVERYONE!

Brock Lesnar is eliminated (Joe - his intent to kill you)

The ring is in something of a state of shock, until Lesnar, in a rage, re-enters the ring and returns the favor that was dealt to him by Goldberg, dropping Joe with a lariat, a F5, and a throw over the ropes. Damn.

Samoa Joe is eliminated (Lesnar - treachery)

Our remaining seven competitors square off, with Ambrose dueling with Corbin, Sheamus, Big E, and Zayn tangoing...oh no, Luke Harper’s spotted Bray Wyatt. Harper’s closing in on Wyatt...what’s he going to do?

I HEAR VOICES IN MY HEAD, THEY COUNSEL ME, THEY UNDERSTAND, THEY TALK TO ME...

At lucky #27, it’s Randy Orton! Orton slides into the ring and immediately doles out an RKO to Harper! Wyatt and Orton pick up the carcass of Harper, moving to eliminate him...but Sheamus gets sent into them from behind, causing what was supposed to be a single elimination to turn into our second Sheamus-induced double elimination of the match!

Luke Harper is eliminated (Wyatt and Orton - family tactics) Bray Wyatt is eliminated (Orton - “teamwork”)

There’s some anger, as you might expect, but Orton’s promises to win it “for the Family” seem to have placated his creepy swamp self-help guru. He promptly adds to the weight of things with an RKO to Sheamus! RKO to Ambrose! RKO to Big E! RKO to Zayn! RKO to Corb—NO! Countered into the End of Days! What a spot that you can’t see yet! Corbin is standing tall! Here comes #28!

*gong*

That’s right, kiddos, it’s the Undertaker. And guess what presents he brought for naughty children? Chokeslams! That’s one for you, and one for you, and one for Big E, and a clothesline over the top for you!

Big E is eliminated (Undertaker - clothesline)

Well dang! Corbin and Undertaker get a striking exchange that actually makes the young wolf look good, but ultimately the Deadman is fresher, and that makes the difference here, as Taker drills him with a chokeslam. Sheamus gets into the mix as well, but he eats a chokeslam over the top rope and to the floor.

Sheamus is eliminated (Undertaker - get off his lawn)

Finally, Orton gets that elusive RKO on the Deadman, and manages a pose...in time for the Deadman to sit up. Well, dammit. A flattening for you, Randall, and one more for Sami in time for #29...

*heartbeat, fans going apeshit*

Yup. That’s right. It’s Finn Balor. And the people love it. Finn Balor. The Undertaker. Demon versus Deadman. And here...we...go! Shots back and forth, big moves, chokeslam countered into a Sling Blade, Coup de Grace! But Corbin is right there to flatten Balor with a clothesline and get the biggest heat he could for eliminating the biggest legend in the match!

The Undertaker is eliminated (Corbin - heelish bastardry)

Balor gets reeled in for another End of Days, but counters THAT into a Sling Blade just in time for #30...

*descending strings, fans losing their damnable minds*

The final entrant is a man who’s been synonymous with missed chances in NXT, but Hideo Itami seems fired up tonight! He charges down to the ring, laying into Baron Corbin with reckless abandon, capping it with a vicious roundhouse kick! Balor walks over, high-fiving Itami. Itami takes his hand, shaking it...then holds on. He fixes his gaze on Balor, and for the hard microphone, he shouts “I KNOW WHAT YOU DID!”

And with that, he reels in Balor and delivers the damnedest Go 2 Sleep of his entire North American career. Balor crumples like a sack of flour, and Itami hurls him over the top rope, taking himself out in his reckless abandon.

Finn Balor is eliminated (Itami - Go 2 Sleep) Hideo Itami is eliminated (Himself - sweet, sweet revenge)

[Final Four: Sami Zayn, Dean Ambrose, Baron Corbin, Randy Orton]

We are down to the Final Four. Three Smackdown guys, one Raw guy. Ambrose hurls himself at Corbin, because he’s nuts, and Orton takes on Sami Zayn, because he’s smart. They trade shots, but Zayn is on spaghetti legs. Orton goes for the RKO...BUT IT GETS COUNTERED! BLUE THUNDER BOMB! Ambrose goes for the Dirty Deeds...COUNTERED INTO THE END OF DAYS! Simultaneous eliminations!

Randy Orton is eliminated (Zayn - Blue Thunder Bomb) Dean Ambrose is eliminated (Corbin - End of Days)

[FINAL TWO: Sami Zayn, Baron Corbin]

Corbin turns around to see Sami utterly dead in the corner. He walks over, grabbing him by the hair, and paintbrushes him with a slap. Corbin slugs Sami a few times, whipping him off the ropes and going for the Deep Six...WHICH SAMI COUNTERS INTO A FLYING HEADSCISSORS! Sami lands on his knees, Corbin staggers to the ropes...

He has that look in his eyes.

Sami Zayn can feel it.

And two seconds later, so can the entire Alamodome.

Baron Corbin is eliminated (Zayn - Helluva Kick)

WHOAH OH-OH-OH! WHOAH OH-OH-OH! LET’S GO!

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner of the 2017 Royal Rumble...Sami Zayn!”

So...yeah. I’d have Sami go Iron Man to win it all. Why? Because it’s been a long time since we had a Royal Rumble winner that everyone could really get behind and cheer. It’s been a long time since we had a Royal Rumble winner that made people...happy. And if there’s one thing Sami Zayn can do, it’s make people happy.

That’s how I’d book the 2017 Royal Rumble. Comments? Suggestions? Want to tell me my booking makes Vince Russo look like Vince Russo thinks he looks? My inbox is open. Thanks for reading!

#WWE #fantasy booking

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