TV Championship match

[The Assassin]

1 of 2
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April 16th, 2025
Birmingham, England
Off Camera
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He may be without the SCW Television Championship after taking the loss to Chris Lawler on Breakdown, but “The Assassin” Clyde Sutter has not lost faith in Fate. Fate, he believes, has its plan for him and his career going forward. In fact, The Assassin’s belief in Fate is only further cemented with news of what CHBK has planned for the fans choice edition of Breakdown on May 1st. The Television Championship, initially having been fought over by Ryan LeCavalier, Adam Brock, and Clyde Sutter, now is in the possession of Chris Lawler. The fans will get the opportunity to decide how this four way entanglement will end. Who will get the chance to fight for the championship and which two will get the opportunity to settle an old score? A fan vote between Adam Brock, Ryan LeCavalier, and Clyde Sutter will determine which of the three will challenge Lawler for the championship while the other two compete one on one. Yes, this is being billed as Fan’s Choice and yes, the fans may get to vote, they may believe their voices are being heard, but in the mind of Clyde Sutter the ultimate deciding factor and the only real voice here is that of Fate. Fate will decide if he gets the opportunity to regain his Television Title in a rematch with Lawler. Fate will decide if Sutter will have to settle for taking down and ending a bitter rivalry with Brock or LeCavalier instead. And, quite frankly, The Assassin would be happy either way. His mission is to do the will of Fate.

After losing the championship, Sutter did not waste any further time stateside. Instead he booked a flight back to his hometown of Birmingham, England. One would think that after the constant harassment he has been receiving from his sister, Lilith Sutter, that The Assassin would want to put as much distance as possible between himself and his sister. But Lilith has been trying desperately to get The Assassin to lose control of his temper, knowing that if he goes into rage mode again that he risks losing all of the precious connections that keep him sane; namely, his girlfriend Melinda Braddock. Clyde knows that Lilith’s endgame is to somehow gain control over him and to do that she needs to split up himself and Melinda. He has taken every necessary step imaginable to prevent her mind games. He has even started seeing a therapist again and, upon the suggestion of the therapist, he took on a father figure, Henry Van Stanton, his step-father, thinking that a larger support system will provide him with a stronger wall around his mind to keep Lilith’s influence out of the way. But Clyde fears that this solution is far too simple for such a complicated and complex problem. He fears that Lilith is planning, or may already have perpetrated, further acts to potentially try and get to him. He refuses to be taken by surprise by his sister again and this is what brings him back to his home in Birmingham, England. He is seeking answers the only way he knows how…from the streets.

Birmingham at night was a symphony of grime and smoke; this was the bad part of town and consisted of crumbling red brick warehouses, their soot-stained faces catching what little light filtered down from flickering street lamps. Rainwater from an earlier storm pooled in uneven patches along cobblestone streets, reflecting fractured fragments of yellow light like broken glass. The wind blew low and steady, threading through alleyways and skeletal iron scaffolding, whistling secrets only the rats and the desperate understood. The scent of old oil and rust filled the air, mingling with something fouler. Somewhere in the distance, a train screamed its way along unseen tracks, its wail lost amid the occasional bark of a dog or the slam of a door. Life persisted here, in the cracks between progress and poverty. It breathed through muffled arguments behind boarded windows, in the shadows of hunched figures warming their hands over trash fires. It was a part of the city most people ignored until it reached out and reminded them why they should’ve stayed away.

Clyde Sutter moved through it like he belonged because, in some ways, he did. For most of his life, this was all he knew. He grew up fighting to survive on these streets. He got in trouble as a drug enforcer here on these streets. He was tall, well-built, his frame casting a long silhouette against the puddled street. His long black hair was tied back in a low, neat tail, strands clinging to the sides of his face where the mist and sweat had settled in. He wore a thick, black overcoat made of waxed canvas, the shoulders broad and stiff against his frame. Beneath it, dark woolen trousers and scuffed leather boots marked him as a man who moved more than he rested. His gloved hands remained deep in his pockets, but even at rest he gave the impression of coiled tension. His coat shifted as he walked past a cluster of flickering neon signs buzzing above a boarded pub. The blue and red glow bathed him in pulsing light, giving brief glimpses of the black shirt beneath his coat, unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a faded silver chain. His expression was unreadable, half-hidden in shadow, jaw tense, eyes sharp and always scanning. A man like him didn’t walk here without reason. He had a purpose.

He paused under a rusting iron awning. His breath curled into the air, white and ghostlike. He listened, not just to the sounds, but to the silences between them. Something was shifting in the night. That was when the stranger appeared. He emerged from the far end of the street like a shadow peeling itself from the brick. Shorter than Clyde by at least half a foot, the figure was wiry, almost boyish, though the way he moved. casual, yet deliberate, hinted at a confidence that belied his frame. His hair was cropped short, almost military style, and his eyes were too sharp for someone his age, glinting like the edge of a blade under the streetlamp’s dying glow. He wore a fitted brown leather jacket, a faded green hoodie and black jeans clung to a narrow frame, the fabric thin and damp from the earlier rain. A knife hilt poked from his belt, half-hidden beneath the jacket, and there was a barely noticeable bulge beneath his right sleeve, suggesting another tool of persuasion tucked out of sight. He walked toward Clyde with a lazy gait, hands in his jacket pockets, mouth curled in a half-smile that could’ve meant trouble or amusement, or both. The stranger didn’t speak right away. He just stopped a few feet away and tilted his head, studying Clyde like a puzzle box he’d already decided he could crack.

“It’s about time, Joseph.” Clyde snarls with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Do you have any idea how long I have been waiting on your sorry ass to get here?”

“Hey, you know me, lad, I like to make a grand appearance.” Joey snickers.

“Yes, your charisma was always a nuisance.” Sutter remarks. “Understand, Joseph, that your desire to make an entrance is bothersome. You operate on my time, Joseph. Remember that. I have a schedule to keep. You, on the other hand, have all the time in the world.”

“Bloody hell, mate, like you have anywhere you gotta be, huh?”

“Quite the contrary, I actually am a busy man these days.” Sutter grins. “I am not the same man you once knew.”

“Don’t I know it!” The tension seemingly breaks out of nowhere. Joey approaches and embraces Clyde in a tight, brotherly hug. Sutter accepts the hug graciously. “God damn, man, it has been way too long!”

“It has, indeed, Joseph. It has been too long.”

“Joey.” He corrects him. “Quit the Joseph garbage. You may be a made man now but you came from the streets. You always will be from the streets, my man. So yeah, it’s Joey.”

“Fair enough…Joey.” Clyde sighs. “I admit, it is good to be back here.”

“Why? Do you miss the old life?”

“Not at all.” Sutter shakes his head. “It serves as a reminder of what I once was and of the person I do not wish to be again.”

“I can’t blame ya there, mate.” Joey chuckles. “I’ve been following your career and, I gotta admit, I’m impressed with your turnaround. You were a drug enforcer, drug user, you and I used to cause all sorts of hell in these streets of Birmingham. Yet now look at ya! You’re a successful wrestler!”

“Not what your definition of successful is…”

“You’re too humble, Clyde.” Joey remarks. “You were in Millennium Wrestling and was a Television Champ and Riot Champ. You were Global Championship Wrestling and was a Tag Team Champ. Now you’re in Supreme Championship Wrestling and you’re their Television Champion!”

“Shows how much YOU pay attention, Joey.” Clyde sneers. “I lost the championship.”

“Wait, what? To that Chris Lawler bloke?” Joey asks. He sighs. “So what? I missed an episode! But it’s no biggie! You’ll get it back!” He pats Sutter on the back. “I believe in you, mate!”

“It is true, an opportunity to regain the championship is there…” Sutter’s voice trails off momentarily “...but it is all up in the air, in the hands of Fate. Or as management wants to put it, up to the choice of the fans. I have to rely on the fans to decide to choose whether or not I get to win my title back.”

“That’s bullocks.” Joey shakes his head. “What do those idiots know?”

“What they know does not matter. My trust is in Fate.”

“Alright now, Clyde, drop that cryptic fate talk.” Joey snickers. “That’s the one part of your career that annoys me!” Joey smirks. “I annoyed you by being late…you annoyed me with your talk about fate…we’re even!”

“We’re hardly even, Joey.”

“Sure we are.” He smirks as he wraps an arm around his shoulders. “So tell me, my man, what REALLY brings you back to the mean streets? I don’t suppose I could interest you in some action for old times sake?”

This mere suggestion, the implication, that Sutter might be here to resume his old life on the streets as a drug enforcer nearly causes him to snap. He roughly pushes Joey away. The Assassin backs him up with his imposing, intimidating presence.

“I assure you, Joey, I am NOT here to resume my old life. I do NOT CARE to relive my old life.”

“Whoa, calm down, mate…” Joey seems to get the idea that he might have pushed Clyde’s buttons, that he may have pushed him too far. Clyde grabs Joey by his shirt collar.

“Do you understand, Joey? I am NOT here to relive my past. I am trying desperately to forget my past.”

“Yeah, I get it, mate but…” he nervously chuckles “...if you want to forget your past, then why are you HERE? With ME of all people?”

The Assassin stares deep into Joey’s eyes. He can sense the fear. He has frightened his old friend. Sutter, realizing he almost lost control again, steps back a few steps, which causes Joey to settle down as well.

“I need information.” Clyde remarks and then points at Joey. “And you always seemed to have had the best connections to every piece of the seedy underworld in this city. If anyone can get me the information I need, it would be you.”

“Oh well…thanks?” Joey looks rather confused. “But, uh, mate, you’ve been living it up in the United States lately. What could ya possibly need to know about the old homeplace?”

“Do you really want to ask questions?” Sutter reaches into his pocket and produces a wad of cash. He hands it to Joey, who takes it and quickly looks at it, almost as if counting it mentally. Joey’s eyes grow wide as he goes through each bill. He immediately stuffs the cash into his coat pocket and then looks up at Sutter.

“Damn, mate! That’s a lot of cash!”

“Indeed it is.” The Assassin nods his head.

“But you’re just a wrestler!” Joey exclaims. “Where are ya getting this much cash?!”

“I am not doing anything illegal if THAT crosses your mind.” Sutter states. “I get paid very well for what I do for a very wealthy individual.”

“Oh I get it.” Joey smirks. “So you’re still an enforcer, just not a drug enforcer. A mercenary who works for the highest bidder.”

“Shut up.” The Assassin snarls angrily. “Just answer this question…is that enough?”

“Yeah.” Joey nods his head. “But it makes me wonder…why exactly am I getting paid this much?”

“What did I just tell you about asking questions?”

“That’s a lot of money, mate.” Joey states. “That makes me think this is dangerous.”

“You always had good intuition.” Clyde nods his head.

“So it IS dangerous?”

“Not necessarily.” He states, shaking his head. “Just very…complicated. Complex.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Joey nods his head. “So what do I need to about this complex job of yours?”

“Someone has been giving me some grief the past several months. The harassment has become unbearable and I do not have any reason to believe that she is going to stop.”

“She?” Joey arches his brow. “Sounds like a real winner to me!”

“You have no idea.” Sutter rolls his eyes. “For reasons that I would rather NOT discuss with you, she seems intent to ruin the relationship I have with my beloved…with my Melinda…”

“Oh ya mean the drop dead gorgeous looker that accompanies you to the ring?” Joey whistles. “Now that is a nice piece of ass!” That statement sets Clyde off and he turns to growl fiercely at Joey.

“Do NOT call Melinda that!”

“Hey, sorry, mate, I didn’t mean anything by it!” Joey backs up.

“Consider it a warning.” The Assassin snarls. “Needless to say, Melinda’s story is the one you need to hear. Before she and I became an item, she was dating a young man named Archie Van Stanton.”

“Oh yeah? How close were they?”

“Close.” He nods his head. “He was clean cut, polite, wealthy…”

“So everything you’re not?” Joey says with a smirk on his face. Instantly he realizes that he may have insulted Clyde again and backs up. But The Assassin snickers which puts Joey at ease.

“Yes…you could put it that way. Nevertheless, Archie and Melinda were very close. They were engaged to be married.”

“Oh.” Joey furrows his brow. “So wait a sec, if they were going to be married, how did that end and you two become a thing?”

“Archie and Melinda were victims of a drive by shooting.” Sutter says stoically. “Melinda survived. Archie did not.”

“Oh…damn…” Joey sighs “...lucky you?”

“I want you to do everything you can, use all of your resources, do as much digging and research as you can, to learn whatever you can about this shooting. Was it random or was there a target? If there was a target who was the target? Who was behind the shooting? Find out anything and everything you can and report back to me.”

“I suppose I can do that.” Joey says. “But, uh, just out of curiosity, is this for your own knowledge or for Melinda’s?”

“Both.” Sutter answers. “This case has gone unsolved for years and my love deserves answers. But I do have a suspicion that it could have a connection to me.”

“Fair enough.” Joey nods his head. “Where did the shooting take place?”

“Miami.”

“Whoa, hold up, buddy…Florida?” Joey asks, sounding shocked. “You DO know that my connections are ENGLISH not AMERICAN, right?”

“You will find that there is enough cash to fund you a trip to America, in case your investigation leads you that way, but as I said, I have a suspicion that this could connect to me, and thus you may feel free to begin your investigation right here in London using your…English connections.”

“You’re right. This does sound complicated.” Joey smirks. “I might need more money.”

“I promise more money if you get me the answers I need.” The Assassin says coldly.

“That’s good enough for me.” He extends his hand. “It’s great doing business with you again, mate.”

The Assassin accepts his handshake and smiles back at his old friend.

“Yes, indeed it is.”

The old friends embrace one more time in one more hug. After breaking the embrace they turn and go their separate ways. A nervous smile forms on the face of The Assassin as he walks back into the dimly lit Birmingham night; he is hopeful that, with Joey’s help, he can get the information he needs. Melinda Braddock was once in love with Archie Van Stanton and deserves to know the truth about why she and Archie were targeted. But he has a stake in this as well. She may claim that she is trying to legitimate her business, but Sutter knows that his sister’s business is currently organized crime, and Archie Van Stanton has a connection to the Sutter’s through Autumn Van Stanton, Clyde and Archie’s biological mother, making them half-brothers. Is it possible that Lilith took him out? Did she order the hit? And if it was her, was she really targeting Archie or did she target Melinda? This is the answer he wants to know.

He knows that he can rely on Joey to do this job. Joey is good at digging up dirt. Which means Sutter can now turn his entire focus and attention on the Fan’s Choice edition of Breakdown. This has nothing to do with Fan’s Choice. This is the choice of Fate. Will Fate give Sutter one more opportunity to regain the Television Title or does Fate want him to end either Adam Brock or Ryan LeCavalier? The Assassin does not care which path Fate has chosen for him. He eagerly awaits the task that Fate has given him for Breakdown and whoever his opponent will be, their Fate is sealed.