There was a growing queue of fans outside Norfolk Scope Arena, waving homemade banners and screaming as Steve's car drove past. Even with the tinted window, the fans knew exactly who was riding in the limousine by the custom plates; 'ST1NG'. Only hours earlier, Steve had been been sat in an intimidating, large boardroom at Time Warner HQ in New York. Instead of his signature black and white singlet, he was wearing his best business suit. As were the other four members of the secret consortium; Randall Poffo, Lawrence Pfohl, Dallas Page and Robert Huffman. But the world knew them as Macho Man "Randy Savage", Lex Luger, Diamond Dallas Page and Booker-T.
It was on the 31st of July, 2000 taping of Monday Nitro that gave birth to the consortium. Steve was standing backstage, watching the next nail in WCW's coffin being hammered in. When Sting was the star in WCW's hay day, the company stood for real wrestling. Sure, there were moments where gimmicks were pushed hard, such as The Yeti, Robocop, and even the Shockmaster. But nothing like this. Steve held his head as he watched the bell ring to start the Viagra on a pole match. This was just another awful idea in a long string of ridiculous ones.
The company was dying and everyone in the locker room could see it. So Steve left notes for three of his friends to meet him outside the arena at the end of the show. Luger, Page and Booker headed outside separately, as instructed on the note. Steve was waiting by the dumpsters, when they all gathered one-by-one.
"What's up, Steve?" asked Booker.
"Yeah. Why all this secrecy?" asked Page.
"We all know what's happening to this place." said Steve. "The ship is sinking and we are all going down with it."
"We're getting paid, aren't we?" asked Luger.
"But for how long?" asked Steve.
"What ya mean, man?" asked Booker
"They have put WCW up for sale." said Steve.
"What?! Why?" asked Page.
"Why?! Are you kidding me, Page? Did you not see that shit hole of a match they had on tonight? For god sake, Viagra on a freakin' pole match!"
"We hate this too, man." said Booker "Russo is running the show and nobody can stop em."
"We can." said Sting.
"How?" asked Booker.
"I know how much they're selling the promotion for." said Steve, handing a photocopied piece of paper. The guys took a look and were shocked to see how low the company was valued. "I think we should buy the promotion."
"What?! You want us to buy a dead horse?" laughed Luger.
"No. I want to save the horse before it dies. I could buy the company on my own if I wanted but I can't run it by myself. Plus, if we split it four ways, we decrease the risk on our investment." said Sting.
"Not four. Five." They didn't have to turn around to know who spoke in the shadows. The distinct low and rough voice could only belong to one man; Macho Man "Randy Savage". And like that, the consortium was formed.
They put their bid in and had kept their trips to Time Warner a secret from everyone else. Especially Eric Bischoff and Vince Russo. The consortium had been there many times before, but all five knew this meeting was going to be the big one. The make it or break it meetings. They were sat along one side of a long oak table, silently facing six empty seats on the other side. Some of the guys were staring through the large windows, admiring the view of the Big Apple, and some simply looked down at the table. Out of all of them, Randy was probably the least nervous. But then again, not many people could say they had seen him nervous.
"Are you guys going to talk or what?" asked Randy.
"What do you want to talk about?" asked Steve.
"I don't know. Baseball, girls, the weather. I don't give a shit. This silence is driving me crazy."
"I think it's too late for that." chuckled Luger.
"Don't you get started with me, you little shit." said Randy.
"Why did we have to bring him along, Steve?" asked Luger.
"Guys! Cut it out! We're all feeling on edge." said Steve. "But we are this close to changing things. It won't be long till..."
That was when the suits walked into the boardroom. Unlike the consortium, all in mismatched colours, the Warner team all wore the same navy blue suits. They settled into their seats after shaking their guests' hands.
"Thank you all for joining us. I'm Rebecca Gregory." said the only female in the team, who was clearly the leader. "We have finally gone over the contracts and have decided to take you up on the offer."
"Really?" said Page.
"And our last set of terms?" asked Booker.
"We agreed to them." replied Rebecca, with a smile. She was handed the contract by the colleague sitting next to her, placed it on the table and slid it towards Steve. He quickly began skimming the contract. "Don't worry about reading it now, take your time to consult your lawyer before signing it."
"You could've mailed the contract to us. Why call us all the way here?" asked Randy.
"Mr. Poffo, if I may." interjected the man at the other end of the table. "My name is Andrew Wight. The issue we've had with WCW so far is that none of us know anything about the business you are in."
"Wrestling. It's called Wrestling." said Randy.
"Exactly! It is that passion that we want you to bring to the table. I have been a huge fan of wrestling since I was a child. We believe this is a moment to celebrate. We have every faith that WCW will be a lot more profitable in your capable hands."
All five of the men left the corporate building leaving behind all anxiety they felt in that boardroom. As they headed to the airport, they were laughing and celebrating their win in their rental car. Steve was driving while the rest were ecstatic.
"We've done it!" said Page. "We own WCW!"
"I told you there was nothing to worry about." said Booker.
"Guys we can't celebrate yet. We've got to get the contract checked out. Make sure it's kosher." said Steve.
"Yeah, maybe they want to screw us through some legal mumbo jumbo." said Randy.
"But this is much better than where we were before. They shot us down on everything we had put forward. I thought they called us to reject our offer." said Luger.
"I'll get Jim to check out the contract and once he's given me the green light, we sign. Are we all clear on that?" asked Steve. They all agreed.
They caught their flight and when they reached Norfolk, Jim was waiting to receive them all. Jim was not only Steve's lawyer, but also one of his closest friend. They had agreed to take separate cars to the arena, to avoid suspicion. Jim rode with Steve, to take a closer look at the contract. The twenty-minute ride was just enough time, but the whole ride, Steve was waiting with his fingers crossed. They were entering the car park when Jim finally turned the last page in the contract.
"Well?" asked Steve.
"She was right when she said it was all ok." said Jim, taking off his glasses.
"So?"
"You just need to sign and you will be a twenty percent owner of World Championship Wrestling."
Steve slammed his fist on the seat beside him and let out a very loud "Whoop!". But he had to put on his poker face as he walked through backstage, passing several of his unsuspecting peers. He met the rest of the consortium in the locker room and gave them the good news. Randy was the first to sign the contract, then Luger, Booker and Page. When it was Steve's turn to sign, he handed it back to Page. They all looked at one another in confusion. Was he having second thoughts before he had signed the contact? Steve began to get changed out of his shirt and trousers for his black singlet with two white scorpions on either side of his legs. He took the face paint out his bag and began his transformation from Steve Borden to the Stinger.
"You got a match tonight?" asked Randy.
"No." replied Sting.
"Then why you getting ready?" asked Booker.
"I need to do something before I sign that contract." said Steve, putting on his black, leather trench coat.
The pyrotechnics were going off as Monday Nitro kicked off to a packed arena in Norfolk, Virginia. The energetic title music pumping loud out of the arena speakers over the capacity crowd's cheers.
"Coming live to you from Norfolk, Virginia. This is WCW Monday Nitro! We've got an action packed programme tonight with our amazing WCW superstars. I'm Tony Schiavone here with Mark Madden. Mark, we are only two weeks away from WCW Uncensored. How excited are you for it?"
"Excited doesn't begin to describe how I am feeling." said Madden. "We've got Hulkamania facing the Nature Boy. To be frank, Flair can't wait to get his hands on Hogan. I don't envy him."
Before Schiavone could continue the back and forth that colour commentary thrived on, Sting walked out of the black curtain and on the ramp leading to the ring. Instead of the cymbal crashes leading into his theme music, he came out to the resounding ovation from the fans.
"What the hell?" Shiavone's voice had lost the volume and energy from his intro. The confusion was clear in his voice. "What's going on?" Sting had walked down the ramp and was approaching the ring.
"It looks like the Stinger is coming out." replied Madden. Sting climbed the steel steps.
"I can see that! But why?"
"We're about to find out." replied Madden. Sting was now stood in the middle of the ring, reaching over the ropes as he asked for a microphone from the ring announcer.
"How are we doing Norfolk, Virginiaaaa!" said Sting, receiving a loud cheer from the crowd. "This town is so close to my heart. It was here that Starrcade was produced under WCW. The first pay-per-view WCW produced. It was twelve years ago here that I won the NWA World Tag Team Championship." The crowd sent out another wave of cheers. "WCW was a wrestling institution! It was where aspiring young wrestlers came to learn the ropes and become superstars." Sting lowered the microphone as the crowd continued to cheer him on with chants of 'WCW'.
"But the WCW I knew and loved... YOU knew and loved has turned into a freak show. There's a locker room full of talented guys back there who get looked over in favour of shit like Viagra on a pole match." A combination of laughter and boos echoed throughout the arena. "Do you want..."
The boos became louder as Vince Russo stepped out onto the tron, walking aggressively as his shouting was inaudible over the crowds resentment. He snatched a microphone from the announcer and entered through the ropes.
"Who the hell do you think you are? Coming out here and running your mouth." spat Russo. But the crowd that was cheering only seconds ago, was now jeering. "WCW was a dinosaur of a promotion before I came here. I saved WCW!"
"Saved WCW? You prostituted the WCW title to the highest bidder. YOU have made a mockery of every single person on the roster. Not ANYMORE!" said Sting. "And you asked who the hell I am?" Sting pulled out the contract from the inside pocket of his trench coat. He took the pen clipped on the papers and signed the contract. He threw the pen and held up the contract to Russo's face. "I am the new part owner of WCW! In other words, I am your BOSS!" The crowd was louder than ever before. They grew louder seeing Russo's face drop.
"What?! OH MY GOD! Ladies and gentlemen, this is not part of the scheduled show. We are as surprised as you are." Schiavone shouted over the crowd.
"Things are going to change here from now on. And my first act as your boss is going to be this." The crowd went absolutely quiet, eager to hear what's going to come next. "Vince Russo... YOU... ARE... FIRED!" The crowd erupted for the final time, drowning out Russo's protests. "Get this piece of trash out of my ring!" And as though they were waiting for it, security ran out instantly and hauled Russo out of the ring. The crowd laughed as he kicked and screamed out of the ring, leaving Sting to take in the energy in the Norfolk Scope Arena, welcoming in the new era for WCW.
Meanwhile, in Time Warner HQ, Andrew stood by the water cooler, dispensing ice cold water into a plastic cup. A roar of laughter caught his attention emanating from a meeting room, with the door ajar. He watched Rebecca, his boss, sitting on the table holding a glass of whiskey in her hand.
"Can you believe that meathead? Who the hell wears a bandana with a suit?" she laughed.
"Meathead?" whispered Andrew.
"It was a stroke of genius, though. We've been trying to find a reason to drop WCW. What better way than letting the inmates run the prison?" said a man, hidden from Andrew's line of vision.
"Exactly! What do they know about running a business? I give them two months. Vince McMahon is itching to take WCW and when he does, the price tag will be bigger and we will be richer." laughed Rebecca. The deal that Andrew thought they had offered was an honest effort to save a legacy, but realised it was just dirty politics. Although he was employed by Time Warner, he couldn't help but feel he had just betrayed the wrestlers who he had looked up to.
