Nowinski opened his hotel room door, looking at the luxurious bed. He sat down on it, turning on the TV. He hardly had time to watch anything before there was a knock on his door. He opened it, and stared at someone much bigger than him. Anonymous raised his silenced pistol, and fired.
***
People would claim that they saw a huge man toting a body bag down out of the lobby. Others would say they saw him throw the body in the back of a truck. Some said they saw the body dumped at the side of a highway, but those weren't talking about the same thing. Anonymous climbed into the back of the trailer, and banged on the side. Enigma climbed in the driver's seat of the cab, and started up the engine. He pulled the truck out onto the active highway, waiting for his brother to finally shut that Harvard bitch up.
***
Nowinski heard the rushing air, and opened his eyes. He felt his chest, which had a small hole similar to one made by a hypodermic needle in it. "Cameras rolling, Nowinski." Someone said.
"What the hell's going on?" He looked around him. He heard a loud chopping sound above him, and he was in a dark room-like area. He didn't know it, but he was in the cargo area of a Chinook, a military helicopter. He was way up in the air, the large cargo bay door wide open. All that was needed was a little air pocket, and the Chinook would tilt. He didn't have on a parachute, and he would quickly fall out and die.
"You're doing a promo for a pay-per-view, remember?"
Nowinski thought he vaguely remembered something about it, so he went along with it. "What do I say?"
"You're supposed to talk about how much better it is to think through everything diplomatically rather than be a gun-toting soldier and blah blah blah." The camera guy said.
Suddenly Nowinski realized this was his chance to hit it big in the WWE. Every memory he had of being exposed for bribing his way through Harvard disappeared from his mind. "Ok. Let's start this again." The camera guy rewound the tape, and started taping again.
He pointed at Nowinski, which took a while for him to see it in the dark lights. "Many people think that the way of the common man to hit it big in this country is to go the way of the soldier. But look at me. I'm not a soldier, I'm a Harvard graduate."
"I thought you bribed your way through that." Anonymous said in the shadows. Nowinski looked over at him in terror as the juggernaut ran out of the shadows and speared him. They both plummeted to the ground, Anonymous laughing at him. Then Nowinski woke up.
***
He looked around him, and realized he was in the trailer of a truck, all alone. He looked at the wide-open loading doors, and saw traffic speeding along behind him. "What the hell are they doing?" He asked himself.
"Driving, shit head. What else?" He turned around slowly, and saw Anonymous' large frame. Anonymous speared him, similar to in his dream. Nowinski hit the pavement hard, hearing the skin on his back burning from the friction. Anonymous had slammed him so hard that he actually went through the pavement and through the highway and down towards the interstate below. Anonymous hit the pavement before Nowinski, surprisingly, by going full-delta. He shifted around so he laded on his feet, and waited for Nowinski to get within his range.
Anonymous did a roundhouse kick as Nowinski plummeted to the ground, sending his body flying into the center-divider. Anonymous looked up at the bright lights of oncoming traffic, and looked at his brother who was in the driver's seat of the truck that was now coming at him. Anonymous jumped up into the air, and landed on the hood. He made his way over to the passenger's side door, and climbed into it.
***
The following morning, Nowinski was wheeled into Vince's office. "I quit." He tried to say, but it ended up sounding warped, as he couldn't move any part of his body.
"Let me guess. Enigma." Vince said.
"No." Nowinski responded.
"Anonymous?" Vince asked.
"No." Nowinski replied.
"Who did it then?" Vince was both curious and worried.
"Both."
